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#aizawa shouta x you
xothatnerdykid · 7 months
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what's love got to do with it?
The students and teachers alike at UA High can't help but notice the strange behavior of the typically stern and stoic teacher of Class 1-A. They come up with all sorts of theories but soon discover the even more surprising truth: Aizawa-sensei is simply falling in love. Fluffy Aizawa x fem!reader drabble. SFW. 2,828 words.
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The way everyone looks at him when he walks in, you’d think he’d grown a second head or something.
Aizawa glances up from his phone after reading a sweet little text from you, greeting him good morning and wishing him a good day at work, only to find every student's wide-eyed, unblinking attention focused solely on him.
One second, they were all happily chattering, and then, the next…
"Hmm? What?" He asks his class offhandedly, throwing his things on the table and taking his usual seat.
But instead of answering him, the whole room erupts into a whispered frenzy.
"Did you see that? Did he just...?"
"No way! Must have been a trick of the light or something."
"What the heck? I feel so unnerved. Llike we just spotted a UFO or there’s been a glitch in the matrix."
“You guys saw it too, right? Are we all just collectively hallucinating?”
"Oi!" He calls their attention. "Would anyone care to tell me what it is exactly that's gotten all of you so worked up this morning?"
Stunned silence falls over Class 1-A again, and Aizawa can’t help but cross his arms and sigh. “Iida? Yaoyorozu? What’s going on?”
He doesn’t miss the way the class president and vice-president exchange a hesitant look before Iida answers him. 
“Apologies, sensei!” He hastily gets up to bow. “I will personally make sure everyone quiets down.” He zooms around the room and gestures frantically at his noisy classmates to settle down.
Bemused by their commotion, Aizawa observes them all carefully. What could’ve caused such a stir? He wonders. And why are they all so reluctant to tell him? Did he have a piece of spinach in his teeth or something? A quick glance downwards tells him he didn’t forget to wear pants or shoes or anything, so what was it?
“If I may, sensei?” Yaoyorozu raises her hand and he nods at her. “I think everyone was just a little distracted by your change in demeanor today."
He furrows his eyebrows at the young girl. "What change?"
"Well, we’ve never seen you smile before. Or at least, not like that.”
He blinks in surprise. He’d been smiling when he walked into class this morning? "What about it?"
"Well, sir," Iida adds, taking his seat once everyone's finally settled down. "It's quite an uncommon sight. Naturally, they were taken aback."
“You usually only smile when you’re giving us a tough time in exams or training exercises, sensei.”
The corners of Aizawa’s mouth twitch upwards at that, which he quickly covers up with a small cough. “Well, enough of that. Let’s get on with today’s lesson, shall we?”
Everyone straightens up to listen as their homeroom teacher goes over a few important announcements. And although he isn’t smiling anymore, Class 1-A doesn't miss the way his usually sharp gaze has grown soft and almost...fond as he speaks to them.
As soon as the homeroom bell rings, Aizawa dismisses them with an absent-minded wave of his hand and takes out his phone to text you: Do I really never smile?
You smile when you’re rounding up bad guys sometimes. You reply almost right away. Or when you see a cat.
He chuckles. Apparently I also do it when I’m torturing my students. Then…Or when I’m texting you.
You send back a little cat emoji, and the grin you get after reading that doesn't leave your face for the rest of the day.
_________________________________________
“Shouta! Helloooo? I said Earth to Shouta?” Kayama waves her hand in Aizawa’s face.
It seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in. “Sorry, what?” He blinks up at her.
She gives Yamada a look. “What’s with him today?”
“Dunno,” he shrugs, then turns to his friend. “Hey buddy, didn’t get any sleep again last night or something?”
You could say that, Aizawa thinks to himself with a smirk, then hastily scolds his features into their usually stoic expression. “No. Why?”
Kayama raises an eyebrow at him. “You've just been acting a little...off. Distracted, maybe?”
"Nothing to worry about," Aizawa reassures them, dismissing their concerns with a wave of his hand. He goes back to observing his students closely in the hopes of them moving past the subject, but Kayama and Yamada aren’t convinced. Anyone looking at him could tell something was different today.
“Sensei?” Kirishima hesitantly calls out to him. “I’m having a little trouble with my balance. Could you show me that move again?”
Aizawa nods, and everyone’s jaw just about drops to the floor when he demonstrates the proper stance with uncharacteristic patience. 
"Remember to be mindful of where you shift your weight," He guides Kirishima through the motions with a supportive tone, a stark departure from his normally gruff and no-nonsense approach. "And keep your focus. You'll get it."
Kirishima does as he’s told and looks to his teacher for feedback.
"No, adjust your stance a bit like this. Yes, that's it. Great improvement," Aizawa says, offering a rare compliment. 
Flabbergasted, the red-haired boy manages a stuttering, "Th-Thank you, sensei," before Aizawa moves on to help the next student. 
Observing everything from afar, Kayama leans over to Yamada and whispers, “He didn’t get a concussion on that last mission, did he? I've never seen him like this."
“Check what was in his coffee a while ago. And if he still has more — oof, it was just a joke!”
_________________________________________
“Okay, enough is enough!” Mina bursts into the room, dramatically crying. “I have to know!”
“Know what?” Kirishima asks as the others start to gather around her.
“What’s going on with Aizawa sensei? I saw him on the way here — he’s wearing a buttoned up shirt.”
There’s a collective gasp.
“Are you sure?” Momo asks.
Mina nods frantically. “And it was freshly pressed, too!”
Another round of gasps.
“And his hair was tied up!” The pink girl all but weeps, throwing herself onto the nearest desk.
“What do you think is going on with him?” Deku rubs his chin thoughtfully.
“He’s been acting so weird lately!” Uraraka whines.
As if on cue, Aizawa walks in. “Good morning, class,” he greets them without his usual gruffness.
Everyone hurries back to their seats, but Mina leans over to grab Kaminari’s sleeve, screaming under her breath, “He said good morning!”
“Look at his eyes!” He points frantically. “No puffy, dark circles or redness at all! He actually looks well-rested for once!”
“That’s where I draw the line!” Kirishima almost slams his fist on his desk. “We have to get to the bottom of this.”
Sero joins them, “Do you think Mic sensei and Midnight sensei know anything?”
Kaminari shrugs, “It’s worth asking.”
“Maybe Aizawa sensei has a secret twin and he’s pulling a prank on us?” Deku contemplates.
Uraraka shakes her head, “Sensei? Pulling a prank? I doubt it. What if there’s a new teacher at UA with a shape-shifting quirk?”
“Or Shinsou brainwashed him into being in a good mood?” Jirou chimes in.
As they huddle and murmur, Todoroki and Tokoyami shoot them curious glances, and Iida has to shush them discreetly. 
They snap back to attention every time Aizawa faces them, pretending to listen to the lesson. But as soon as their sensei turns away again, the room buzzes with whispered speculation. 
And though he acts none the wiser, seemingly engrossed in the topic they're supposed to be discussing, Aizawa can't help his amusement listening to their outlandish theories. A small, smug part of him relishes stoking the fires of their confusion. 
He knew he'd have some explaining to do, but for now, he’s more than happy to just let  them wonder.
_________________________________________
“Oh, look who finally decided to show up!” is the first thing Mic says when he spots him. The colorful cocktail in his hand is practically empty, but he happily sips the fun loopy straw for whatever dredges he can anyway.
“Are you going to make me regret it?” Aizawa grumbles, taking his seat next to his friends.
But Mic and Midnight just snicker, unfazed. They’ve had years to get used to his grumpiness after all (and a few drinks to put them in a better mood). 
"We have to admit, Aizawa," Midnight smirks up at him. "We had an ulterior motive for asking you to come hang out tonight."
"Don't you always?" He deadpans, lazily chewing at the gyoza they ordered without him. Although he doesn’t show it, he’s pleased to see there’s already a whiskey neat waiting on the table for him. 
Midnight rolls her eyes as she slides it over to him, "Yeah, but aside from just getting you to lighten up as usual."
"And getting you to sing karaoke with us, which I still can't believe—"
"You promised me we'd never talk about it again,” Aizawa groans as he rubs his hand over his face. “And that you'd never let me get that drunk again.”
"Awww, come on, buddy," Yamada slings his arm around him. "What's the point of having a good story you can't tell?"
"Fine, but I'll deny it, so no one will believe you anyway."
"I don’t know,” Midnight sing-songs, swirling her margarita in its glass. “With the way you’ve been acting lately, they just might.”
He frowns at her. “Meaning?”
Mic grins, leaning forward with an impish glint in his eye, "Meaning we heard you've been keeping secrets from us, Aizawa."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh really? Then would you care to tell us why you’ve been smiling so much lately?”
“Or who you’ve been trying to look nice for?”
Realizing they weren’t going to let this go easily, Aizawa sighs and takes a deep sip of his whiskey, the familiar warmth sliding down his throat. He's not one to discuss his personal life openly, even with his close friends, but there's something about their teasing that doesn't quite irk him tonight.
Aizawa tilts his head slightly, thoughtfully. "I'm just...happy, I suppose."
“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
“Come on, buddy, you can tell us!” Mic nudges him playfully. 
“We want to know what’s got our favorite grump acting like a—" Midnight’s hands quickly fly up to cover her gasp. 
“Like a what?” Mic gives her a puzzled look, but Aizawa’s shoulders tense up at the glint in her eyes. That look usually meant very bad things for him. 
“Like a lovesick puppy!” She grabs Mic’s arm, excitedly slapping it before shaking Aizawa’s shoulders and squealing into his ear. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re in love!”
Aizawa chokes on his drink, and Mic pats him on the back to ease his coughing fit.
"Real smooth, Kayama,” he teases her.
"Sorry, but I couldn't resist," Midnight pouts, the twinkle of amusement still shining bright in her eyes.
Aizawa wipes his mouth and sets his glass down with a sigh. “Well, if you must know…There is…someone I’ve been spending time with.”
"Someone!" His friends chorus, delighted.
Mic nudges him gently. “Well? Don’t leave us in suspense!”
"Who is it? Do we know them?" Midnight leans forward, giggling.
Aizawa looks down at his glass for a moment, contemplating how much he should reveal. Although he feels a little overwhelmed by their excitement and their scrutiny, he also secretly relishes the joy of sharing this part of his life with his closest friends. 
It feels good, he thinks, to be around them and to know that they care so much about him. And though he’s never been one to discuss his personal affairs, he trusts these two enough to share the parts of himself he usually kept guarded. 
Seeing the expectant looks on their faces, eagerly awaiting his answer, Aizawa's ears turn the faintest shade of red. 
“Do you want to meet her?” 
_________________________________________
"Had a fun night?" You greet your boyfriend with a hug when he shows up at your door well past a reasonable hour.
You don't miss the small smile on his face when he takes off his shoes. "Actually, I did. But Yamada and Kayama were pretty insistent on meeting you." 
"You told them about me?" you respond, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. 
He nods, not quite meeting your gaze. "I think they'd like you."
"Really?" You plop down on the couch with him and stretch your legs atop his lap. 
"Yeah," He gently grazes your thigh. "They were wondering why I've been acting so differently lately."
"Like what?"
"Apparently I'm smiling more and acting nicer and" — He air quotes — “Stopped looking homeless."
You laugh. "And what did you say?"
He shrugs, “That I guess my girlfriend just makes me really happy.”
“Awww,” you pat his cheek playfully. “What’s next? You gonna tell me you’re in love with me or something?”
"Yes? I thought it was obvious?"
"What?" Your heart skips a beat at his nonchalant admission.
“Hmm?” He looks over, and seeing the evident surprise on your face makes Aizawa chuckle. "I thought I'd been making it pretty clear, but I suppose I should say it outright. Yes, I'm in love with you."
Your heart flutters at his words, a warmth spreading through you. "Well, for someone who's known for being so straightforward, you sure took your time saying that."
He brushes a strand of hair from your face and leaves a soft, lingering kiss on your temple. “I’ll say it as many times as you want to hear it, baby.”
You lean in closer, your lips almost touching his. “Alright,” you look up at him with a sleepy smile and half-lidded eyes. “I’m waiting.”
"I love you," he whispers, his voice low and tender. He places a gentle kiss on your nose. “I love you,” and then another on your cheeks…“I love you.” Before gently brushing his lips against yours, cupping your jaw so you can’t help but gaze deeply into his dark, smoky eyes before he finally closes the distance between you.
“Mhhm.” You smile, contentment washing over you like a gentle wave. "I love you, too, baby."
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tired-teacher-blog · 29 days
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Over the years following his early retirement, Aizawa has developed a dad bod.
He is no longer the pale and lanky man you've fallen in love with– all these years ago, and his once prominent dark circles and tired demeanor are long gone and replaced with a more relaxed aura.
You love the little changes he's unknowingly flaunting: the soft tummy protruding under his shirt, the thickness of his strong arms and thighs, the healthy glow adorning his rounder cheeks, and most of all, that cute plumpy butt filling out his bottoms perfectly.
You can never help the heat pooling into the pit of your belly when seeing him dressed lightly, and you get consumed by an uncontrollabe desire to strip him off of whatever sleepwear highlighting his seductive frame at the moment.
That hungry look in your eyes does not go unnoticed as he knows you too well to miss it, and gladly grants your undeclared wish without a second thought.
With an amused smirk on his face, he kneels down between your legs and pushes in slowly while watching the way you breathlessly utter his name and run your hands over his plump chest, and it's a heavenly view that you cannot get tired of seeing, although you really want to feel him pressed against you as well.
You desperatly claw at his forearms demanding to have him closer, and encase him in your embrace when he finally is.
His thrusts quicken and his lips devour yours in a sloppy kiss, while your nails rake his broad shoulders and travel lower and lower until reaching his bum and clutching onto the luscious buttocks you so much adore, squeezing his fleshy globes to mimic the erratic pace of his hips.
He goes mad everytime you do that, singing your praises and grunting promises of making you lose your mind soon.
His words and relentless plunges are what drive you over the edge with a broken cry of how good he's making you feel, and he follows suit in a matter of seconds, stuffing you full of his milky seeds before collapsing onto your quivering body with a soft "I love you" whispered to your ear..
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Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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4izawas · 6 months
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╰─▸ ❝ 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬. 𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚.
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. // “If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you.”
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: my hero academia | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: shouta aizawa/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 9.30k.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: age gap, previously established relationship, jealousy, canon typical harrassment, heavy miss joke bashing, death threats, fem reader, villain reader, possessive reader, reader is just a bad person chat idk what else u want me to say, discussions of trauma ( but aizawa refuses to call it that ), morally ambiguous aizawa, ngl he’s also not a great person but he’s hot so it’s okay, villain/hero, femdom, maledom, teasing, biting, nipple sucking, oral sex, slight choking, switch reader, switch aizawa, dacryphilia, fingering, pussy slapping, tit slapping, spitting, creampies, daddy kink, marking, hickeys, also a cat, tko = tofu knockout, class 1-a are little shits.
𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: kinktober fourrrr !! hnngggg aizawa is always a must <33 and ngl? fucking hate miss joke so we gon bash <3
— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!
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“C’mon, Eraser, just one date! Just one!”
“No means no, Joke — we’re in the middle of a fucking job, so leave me alone and do your part,” Shouta mutters just loud enough flr her to hear with nothing short of sheer annoyance in his voice as he overlooks the streets and back alleys surrounding a building in east Fukuoka just past midnight that night. The Smile Hero, Miss Joke, stood at his right shoulder; due to a necessary team up at the request of the Commission upon Hawks’ request for backup to assist in breaking up a newly discovered human trafficking ring, the duo were paired up and sent to the rooftops for out-of-sight assistance, where Eraserhead could use his quirk without the risk of interruption as the team below entered the building. 
Well. Almost without that risk. 
“Oh, don’t be that way, Eraser, at this point us meeting up all the time’s gotta be fate!” she laughs quietly, grinning brightly at him. He grumbles a little to himself, but doesn’t turn away from where he was glancing around below for any threats that could potentially fall upon the strike team moving through the halls of the building, their locations revealed by the large windows.
More of Joke’s chatter drones on in his ears, and Shouta fights off the annoyed growl that threatened to escape him; why couldn’t it have been Hizashi he was paired with so he’d have backup? At least Hizashi knew how to be quiet and professional, what with his hero persona just being a face for the public — and it wasn’t as if Miss Joke didn’t know how to do her job, she actually did it very well, she just ceased to properly function whenever he was a part of the picture for some reason. Hizashi and Nemuri had both thought it was funny at first, but that was years ago, before it had become an actual problem. 
Shouta tenses up when an overly-familiar hand squeezes his shoulder, and he grits his teeth. “Stop touching me,” he snaps lowly. “For God’s sake, Joke, be fucking professional.”
Miss Joke sighs. “I never see you outside of the rare team up for work, Eraser, what do you expect?”
“I expect you to keep your hands to yourself and for you to do your job,” he says coldly, shaking off her hand. She sighs again, this time in a more dramatic way. 
“Nothing’s gonna happen up here!” She mutters, “We’ve been up here for an hour. They aren’t going to patrol this area, and if they weren’t we should have moved.”
“This is the best vantage point for me to see as much of the building as possible,” he replies, silently relieved that she’s actually discussing the job and not some aspect of his body. 
A groan follows his words, and then a startled curse. He turns in time to catch sight of her grappling with a much larger man with a fly mutation quirk, something he couldn’t cancel. Spitting out a curse of his own under his breath, he leaps into the fray to help as three more men starm the roof. “Neither of you should be up here!” One snarls. “This is private property — you’re trespassing.”
“Shut up,” is all Shouta says, and the fight starts. He leaves Joke to the man with the fly quirk and takes on two of the three other men, the third standing back and watching as Shouta doles out his fair share of bruises while receiving plenty of his own. Once he’s almost completely handled his pair, he sees the third guy make his move from the corner of his eye, his musculature growing as he activates his quirk. Activating his own, Shouta turns his body to brace for the impending impact that would come with the guy jumping at him. A low grunt escapes him as the air is knocked out of him, and as he locks eyes with his new opponent he distantly hears Joke let out an angry shriek after likely taking a particularly harsh hit. One of the guys Shouta had been fighting had abandoned him to go join the fly guy in fighting Joke, so she likely had her own hands full and wouldn’t be able to help in any way — not that he needed it. The only really talented fighter out of the four enemies on the roof was the last man to join the fray, and Shouta could handle him. With a few skillful throws of his capture weapon, Shouta’s more or less finished up his end of the fight. 
A sharp cry from Miss  Joke practically yanks his attention from his opponent so he can look at her, and he finds her on her back against the roof with one of the men with their thick hands around her throat; she’s clearly struggling to breathe. The other man is unconscious, but unbound. A tiny shot of worry races through Shouta’s veins. 
The brief moment that he’d looked away was more than enough for the unnamed enemy to re-engage his strength quirk, and the man burst from the slightly loosened confines of Shouta’s scarf, throwing his entire weight at him. With a surprised shout, he’s thrown faster than he’d expected over to Joke. The man on top of her leaps to the side just before Shouta slams into her, and for a moment the world turns end over end before they’re falling from the roof of the ten story building. 
It takes a second for Shouta to right himself, but before they hit the ground he’s able to wrap one arm around Joke while the other throws his scarf at an overhang on the building he’d been scoping. It catches as intended and they drop to the ground safely, Shouta stumbling a little with the added weight of Joke clinging to him. He can hear the men on the roof opposite them snarling angrily, fixing themselves up and shouting threats against their lives. While they do, the team that had rushed into the building begins filing out, handcuffed traffickers in hand and victims being led out by a few officers. The shouting on the roof silences almost immediately. 
“You alright, Eraser?” It’s Hawks that asks after appearing over his left shoulder with a bound, angry looking man in hand and dangling as the massive red wings on the pro hero beat against the air; the Number Two tilts his head to the side slightly in curiosity while his golden eyes flash in concern as he asks. 
“On the roof,” is all Shouta says, getting straight to the point. “Four men, all working for the ring inside.” Hawks’ pupils narrow to sharp slits, and a dozen feathers zip into the air and over to the roof Shouta had nodded his head towards. Loud yelling and shouts fill the air, followed by shrieks as the feathers binding the men bring them down to the ground. They’re quickly apprehended by the police force assisting the pros in the bust, and all at once the entire event is over. The human trafficking ring that Shouta himself had been focused on bringing down for nearly four years now was destroyed, and all current victims were safe. 
He wishes he could sigh in relief, but there’s an annoying weight on his shoulder. 
“Get off of me, Joke, the danger’s over and this is incredibly unprofessional,” he growls, noticing the way people were staring; he rubs at his eyes to soothe the ever-present burning that came with his quirk use, especially now after the USJ incident; the scar on his face aches at the memory.  
“But something could happen!” Miss Joke exclaims, clinging tighter to him and looking up at him like what he’d said was crazy. “More could be waiting — and I haven’t even gotten to make you laugh yet or agree to that date.”
“You won’t get to do either, now get the fuck off of me!” He snarls, practically tearing her from his side and stepping away. She looks hurt, but he can’t bring himself to care. He was done being nice — clearly it wasn’t working. 
“But Aizawa—!” she starts to whine, but he cuts her off. 
“It’s Eraserhead. You have no right to call me anything else.” With that he storms off, disappearing into the darkness of a nearby alley before making his way through the shadows. All he can think about is the shower waiting for him when he gets home and how filthy he felt having Joke’s hands on his chest and shoulders. It’s why he’s taken by surprise when a heavy figure pushes him into the wall and binds his hands with his own weapon. 
Instinctively he struggles, snarling out a quick threat before the familiar scent of a perfume he’d bought himself reaches his nose, and he relaxes. 
“Evening, Eraserhead,” you murmur lowly, eyes narrowed in displeasure as you look over him, and inwardly he groans. Judging from the tone of your voice, you’d seen all of Joke’s behavior,  but had heard none of what he’d said. You had to have been out of range. 
It didn’t surprise him; Shouta knew you were fond of keeping a watchful eye over him or Hizashi or Nemuri whenever on of them was on a mission like this. You’d have accompanied any of them, Shouta especially ( and tonight of all night most definitely ), but that would have been a foolish decision on your part and everyone who knew you personally would not have been pleased with any possible outcome that followed.
A known villain like yourself would have been swiftly arrested by any police officer or pro hero that didn’t know your civilian identity — and only the three aforementioned people did. 
“It isn’t what you think,” he says tiredly, and a bitter laugh escapes you. Shouta winces; you were hurt. 
“Isn’t that what they all say?” you ask coldly, and Shouta does not reply. He’s too busy staring at the slight tremble in your chin and the way your eyes are getting slightly wetter. 
God. Joke really did have to fuck up everything.
He sighs. “I mean it. It isn’t what it looked like.” You look at him, pondering the denial; Shouta wasn’t a liar. Not once throughout the years you’d known him had he lied to you, even when he’d been after you to arrest you before the two of you had started dating. 
Fine. 
You narrow your eyes. “Talk.”
So he does. He admits to the harassment, to Joke ignoring boundaries and not caring about how many times he’s requested she leave him be. He talks and explains and confesses to things he’d kept secret from you for years, and it takes over half an hour. Over the course of his explanations, the grip you’d had on him goes from a deadly one to one so loose he can barely feel it. The spots would bruise, but he’d wear them with pride as he did any other marks you gave him; you’d not meant to hurt him, and he’d be damned if he let you get into your head about how tight your grip had been. 
By the time he’s finished, you’re shaking — not from the cold, he knows, but from ill-concealed rage. 
“So you’re telling me that you told her to get off of you and to stop touching… and she didn’t?” Your face has been swiftly schooled into an impassive blank canvas, a look he hasn’t seen in years and therefore can no longer read. Hesitantly, he nods, and your eyes flash with an anger he’d not seen since Nemuri was kidnapped by a sex trafficking ring three years back. “And this has been going on for years, but you haven’t told me until now because you thought it would strain the relationship.” Another nod. Your eyes narrow. “Noted. She’ll be on the news tonight.”
You release him from his binds and disappear, scaling the wall and racing across the rooftop. Shouta barely has time to think, but he doesn’t have to in order to follow you, quickly catching you and standing in your way of getting to Joke’s usual patrol route.
“No, you can’t kill her. Not tonight,” he says warningly, and you look angry. 
“You told her to stop and she didn’t. You've told her to stop for years. She doesn’t listen, and she thinks it’s okay. Heroes won’t ever do anything, Shouta, you know that.” The venomous tone you’re sporting  is unmatched, and if Shouta hadn’t known you as well as he does, he’d think it was aimed at him; thankfully he’s known you for years. That being said, he did know that, and honestly it stung a little. 
“I can handle it tonight.” The poison in your voice has transformed into the thickest, most sweet honey as you tempt him. Your eyes are soft, your gaze gooey and only possibly described as sticky sweet. “It could all be over, baby — she’d never bother you again.”
It’s tempting. More tempting than a pro hero should ever allow — but Shouta’s never been the kind of man to balk in the face of the wicked and condemn them for their actions without thought. He was not a good man, and  he doubted there ever was one — he was kind, he was wise, and he was gentle when required, but if he was as good as society deemed the word, he would have turned you in five years ago when the two of you met and he’d captured you after you’d murdered three men. Instead he’d been attracted to you, and a game of cat and mouse had started between the two of you that only ended when he’d caught you again and taken you in an alleyway. 
“That’s wrong,” he murmurs, hands shaky as his heart rate quickens; god, you were so fucking sexy when you promised to murder for him. 
“I never implied that it was right,” you admit casually. For a moment silence stretches out between the two of you, Shouta once again pondering the offer you’d made, then he shakes his head again. 
“No. Not tonight. I don’t feel like scrubbing blood out of the bathroom again,” he says tiredly, and you pout. 
“It’s never usually mine,” you grouse, crossing your arms and turning to look away. 
“And you know how happy that makes me,” he replies warmly, “But I want to be able to hold you and go to sleep tonight without the looming pressure of scrubbing the bathroom in the morning; you know how Hizashi is with blood, and he wanted to go out for breakfast tomorrow before work.”
You let out a wordless grumble, still not looking at him. He searches what parts of your face he can see with the angle you’re turned, and jumps a little when you look at him with nothing but promises of death in your eyes as he lets you push him against the wall again. “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. 
“If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you,” he promises while pressing slow kisses along your bare skin, biting at your neck and drawing a whimper from your lips. He grins against you. “Go back to the apartment and let me finish my patrol so I can get the hell home and fuck your dumb little brains out, kitten.” A shaky moan falls from your lips and you push your ass back against him. 
“Or you could just fuck me here?” you offer hopefully, your eyes glittering darkly with a newfound interest he knows all too well. “Please Daddy, I’m so wet for you-” A sharp smack to your ass makes you cry out. 
“You fuckin’ heard me, brat — go home.”
With a growled huff, you tug yourself free from his grip, still pouting. Shouta raises an eyebrow; your next move was yours to make. Would you defy him and go after Joke, or would you listen and go home? Either decision would be preferable, and if he was honest he wouldn’t mind you doing what you pleased to Joke tonight as long as you didn’t track blood into the apartment, but why would he admit that now?
You huff again, and promptly disappear into the inky blackness — away from the direction of Joke’s patrol route, and Shouta barely fights off an amused chuckle. 
You always were such a good girl for him. 
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When Shouta finally gets home at half past four, the apartment is dark. He can smell the scent of food from his favorite takeout place, though the initial strength of it is soft and faded, and the soft hum of the television in the bedroom keys him in on where you’ve retreated to.  Toeing off his boots, he wanders into the bedroom, rubbing at the back of his neck as he takes in the sight of you curled up in the bed you shared with him, surrounded by pillows with the little grey cat you and he had taken off the streets curled up in your lap, dozing. Shouta sighs; as calm as he was now, Shouta knew damn well the little monster you’d for some reason named Tofu was going to slap him for no fucking reason later, so he thanked whoever was listening that the little guy was napping right now so he could take a break and wash off all the filth from tonight’s bust and patrol. 
He wanders into the bathroom, stripping down to the clothes he wore beneath his hero uniform and kicking the black mass of cloth towards the laundry hamper; the urge to piss was far greater than any need to pick them up off the floor right away. 
After finishing up, he hops into the shower, eager to rid himself of the grime he’d collected overnight, and once he’s done he makes his way back into the bedroom, lazily toweling himself dry before moving to the dressed to pull out a pair of sweatpants.  
“What are you watching?” he asks you quietly as he puts them on, and you shrug. 
“I don’t know,” you reply, and he raises an eyebrow. 
“You don’t know?”
“No, I haven’t been paying much attention,” you admit quietly, gently playing with Tofu’s tail; he keeps dozing, unbothered. “I’ve had a lot to think about.”
Suddenly the warmth Shouta had felt like he’d sucked in from the shower disappeared, leaving him cold and nervous. You’d had several hours to think about everything he’d told you, and he worried that you were mad at him now. Admittedly he’d technically lied for a long time, keeping secrets from you and not telling you how he felt about Joke for years, so he really couldn’t blame you for being upset with him, even just a little ( or a lot ). The only comfort was that you were still here — because Shouta knew you. If you were going to leave him, you wouldn’t have been in the apartment when he’d returned. Just like you’d first entered it all those years ago, so would you leave it should you choose to abandon the relationship: quickly, silently, and without any reasons to raise suspicion. 
Thinking about it, Shouta didn’t even know if you’d take Tofu if the two of you separated. How would that work?
“We aren’t separating, and I’m not leaving you,” you say tiredly, and Shouta fights off the urge to kick himself; he’d spoken out loud without meaning to. 
You sigh. “That being said, I do want to know why you didn’t tell me.” Shouta tries to repeat what he’d told you, but you look away. “The truth, Shouta. Not the excuse you made before.”
Silence. 
It takes a moment, but finally Shouta just drifts to the bed and sits down on his side with his back to you, looking down at his hands. “Shame,” he finally whispers, and you look at him with a confused gaze. “I just… how could I admit that I couldn’t get her to stop when I’m a pro hero?” Your eyes turn soft and understanding, and he continues in a tone of disgust, refusing to look at you. “I feel so weak. I’m a grown man and I couldn’t fucking stop her — I can’t stop her. I already know the next time we cross paths she’ll be the same. Nothing will change, and I’ll always be… stuck.”
A second silence overtakes you both. You say nothing, only watching the way his shoulders have a slight tremble, before moving Tofu and kicking back the thick layers of blankets, crawling on your hands and knees over to him. He doesn’t look up at you, still staring at his own hands as you cup his head in yours and move his head up so you can see his face. 
He still doesn’t lock eyes with you. 
“Shouta,” you murmur softly. “Look at me.” He makes no attempt to move. “Please?” He does as asked, and you smile softly. “There’s that handsome face,” you murmur, your voice as warm as his morning coffee, and he scoffs. 
“Don’t coddle me,” he mutters, and you grin, not missing the way his lips quirk up in a soft, blatantly fond smile.
“If I don’t, who will?” you ask teasingly, and his tiny smile widens ever so slightly. You grab one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as you sit back on your calves, and your sweet smile twists. “Besides, haven’t I made it obvious to you? You’re mine. Nothing’s gonna change that, Sho, and no one is going to be able to take you away from me.” A murderous gleam flickers in your eyes, and Shouta finally looks up at you just in time to catch it. 
His shoulders droop as he relaxes, his muscles losing the tension he’d built up tonight. Somehow, despite the very clear ( though unvoiced ) notion of just what you could and would do if someone tried to take him from you would normally frighten someone else, he felt at ease. 
His eyes close and he relaxes into your touch as you creep close again, this time straddling his thighs while holding him close; he lets his head fall to rest on your chest, and he sighs from the comfort. “Do I need to spell it out?” You whisper softly to him as you lean down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his stubbled jaw, your hands roaming over his shoulders in a way that has him tensing up for an entirely different reason. 
“Maybe — Maybe you do,” he whispers shakily, tilting his head just enough for you to get to that special, ever-so-sensitive spot that you knew had his cock twitching. You laugh softly, your teeth lightly scratching along his heated skin, and he shakes a little as he fights off the urge to move. 
You gently push him back to rest against the stack of pillows you kept on the bed, and his head falls back in pleasure as you purr out a warm, gooey, “M…” against the base of his throat. Laving your tongue across the skin there, you feel him swallow hard, and you laugh lowly again, your voice thick and sweet like syrup as you continue with a simple, “I…” before moving down to his chest. From the corner of your eye you see one of his hands fist in the sheets, and you fight off yet another chuckle as you slip your way down his body before stopping at your next target: one of his dark, hardened nipples. You don’t hesitate to take it into your mouth, your hot tongue circling the sensitive flesh in a way that has his upper body trembling. It presses hard into the soft, wet pad of your tongue, and the breathy sighs falling from his lips as you lavish it in attention while twisting the other amuse you. Grinning slightly, you take it between your front teeth and tug at it a bit, relishing the sharp whine and stuttered moan he lets out from the feeling; his chest had always been so sensitive. “N,” you say, drifting down yet again. Your fingernails dig ever so slightly into his skin and follow the rest of your body down, scratching across his sensitive nipples and leaving him whimpering louder than before. You finally still before your prize, thick and heavy and hard and hidden from you, and you breathe out a wanting, “E…” as you curl your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and pull them down slowly to reveal the tip of his dripping cock. 
Eyes glittering eagerly, you draw his sweatpants down further, releasing the rest of his length as well as his balls, and you gaze at the way it bobs up to slap against the skin of his stomach. His balls are fat and heavy, and you swallow the drool that’s accumulated in your mouth before taking his cock in one hand, slightly turning your head to the side, and tracing a thick line from his balls to his drooling tip with your tongue. A choked noise is ripped from his throat, and you press your tongue against the sensitive spot under his head and lap at it softly before purring a pleased, “Mine.”
It takes a moment, but as his thighs tremble around your head and his breathing gets heavier and heavier, Shouta finally manages to reply. “Yours,” he whispers, and your grin turns wicked with anticipation.
“Yeah, you’re all mine,” you murmur to yourself before taking his cock into your mouth again, this time sucking lazily at the tip until Shouta’s shaking. Looking up at his messy figure above you, you soak in the picture of his heavy breathing and his squeezed-shut eyes as he falls to pieces beneath your touch. Splaying out your fingers, you run your hands across his thighs as you work your way down to the thick, dark curls around the base of his cock. Your fingernails scratch at his sensitive skin, and his thighs quake as you finally fully nestle his cock in your throat, your nose buried in his pubes. He’s clean, as always, and he’s used your favorite body wash; Shouta lets out low noises of pleasure as you slowly begin to bob your head along his length, sending it down your throat then pulling off it all over again until he’s sitting up, his stomach rolling ever so slightly as he stares down at you while panting. 
“Fu-uck, wait, I-!” he moans, instinctively bucking up into your mouth. You laugh a little around him while languidly sucking at his cock, and he groans deep and hard from the feeling of the vibrations before fisting his hand around your throat and tugging you up. “Y’gotta — Y’gotta stop, I’ll cum,” he grunts, holding you up by your neck. You use one thumb to swipe at a smear of pre on your cheek before sticking it in your mouth to suck it clean. 
“That’s the point, Sho,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I want it.”
“And you’ll get it,” he replies with a growl before yanking you up so you’re laying on top of him before rolling you over onto your back with him hovering over you. “Only you’ll be taking it in this tight cunt of yours, so I hope you’re ready.”
He watches the way your pupils blow ever so slightly, and his tongue darts out to wet his slightly chapped lips as you gaze up at him with soft, gooey eyes. With a grin you ask, “Well Daddy? I thought you were going to fuck me?”
A warm hand comes up and gently grips the column of your throat, and your eyes widen slightly as Shouta leans down with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Do you really want to tempt fate tonight, sweetheart?” he asks coldly, a wicked smile on his face, and your legs spread a little in response. 
“I don’t feel anything,” you purr teasingly, “Don’t tell me it’s already in?”
Without warning, his free hand claps down onto your already sensitive pussy and you let out a choked howl, eyes wide with surprise. During your quick reaction he’d buried his face in your chest, sucking and biting at whatever he could get into his mouth as the hand that had just slapped your cunt gently begins to toy with it soothingly, cooling the stinging and causing a tightness to start building in your belly. 
Shouta was no stranger to the sweet spots scattered across your body and eagerly took advantage of each and every one, biting down on sensitive flesh as his fingers gently eased inside of you and began feeling around inside — teasing, of course, considering he knew where the most sensitive spots were inside of you and he purposefully kept himself from touching them. His thumb runs rough, lazy circles on your clit, and you start rolling your hips up into his hands as he worms his way down the bed, finally releasing your throat. You’re practically dripping now, a small wet spot forming on the sheet below you as your juices roll down past his hands and the curve of your ass to puddle on the bed before soaking onto the fabric. Shouta bites aggressively at your inner thigh, and you whine sharply and reach down to take his hair in your hands, tightly fisting your fingers in it as you needily tug his head toward your center. He just laughs and shakes you loose, slapping your thigh to usher a new cry from your lips before taking his thumb off of your clit so he can use his now free hand to slowly play with the sensitive bundle of nerves and focus his other hand entirely on fitting a third finger inside your sopping wet hole, watching greedily as your cunt swallows them up. 
You’re openly moaning now, sharp cries and whimpers falling from your lips as he curls his fingers and starts playing with an especially swollen, especially sensitive stretch of flesh inside that has you nearly writhing. You can’t stop yourself from rutting your hips up into his touch, however, when that free hand starts making hard, fast circles over your clit at the same time as his curled fingers piston in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace that has you wailing. “O-Oh god, Shouta, please!” You faintly hear him let out a breathless laugh, but you’re too busy gripping the sheets with one hand and your pillow with the other while thrusting your hips in time with each borderline violent press of his thick fingers inside that you barely even make note of it. 
“C’mon now, sweetheart, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls lowly, an excited glint in his eyes as the sounds of your cries changing in pitch signals that you’re about to cum all over his fingers. God, he wants to lap it up like a cat drinking milk; tasting you was always a favorite pastime. He rolls his hips against the mattress, grinding his aching cock between it and his hips and chokes down a shaky whine of his own as spikes of pleasure shoot through him. “Gonna cum for Daddy?”
“Yes! Yes! P-Please, Daddy, let me cum!” you beg shrilly, your entire body shaking. “Please, wanna cum, gotta cum, feels s’good-!”
Shouta knows that if he looked up at you he’d see little tears beginning to gather along your waterline, glittering in the low light like the most precious diamonds, and the thought has him groaning and grinding against the bed harder. “Y-Yeah,” he moans lowly, “Cum for Daddy, baby, cum for Daddy…”
Your cunt tightens around the three fingers he has buried inside you up to his palm, and he replaces his hand on your clit with his mouth, roughly sucking and lapping at it in a way that has you screeching. Your legs fly up to lock around his head and he lets them, enjoying the tight squeeze of both them and your cunt as you fall apart in his mouth and on his fingers.  “That’s right, sweetheart, just like that,” he moans into your pussy, licking up all of the shocks of wetness that had started dripping down his hand as you came. 
Above him, you’re in tatters, your entire body trembling in a seemingly never-ending spasm. Your eyes have rolled back, and you thoughtlessly clench your thighs around your boyfriend’s head as a means of keeping him in place, desperate to keep coming until you’re screaming.  “G-God, oh god — Fuck, Daddy, p-please-!”
Shouta groans into you like a drunken man into a half-empty bottle, and slowly eases up on the movements of his fingers as your thighs slowly loosen. He doesn’t stop circling your sensitive clit with his tongue, though, until you weakly push him away with one foot. Finally he comes up, though, hair wild and face from the nose down soaked in your cum. In the faint light from the television his chin shines, and your heart thumps heavily in your chest as he climbs up the bed as well as the length of your body before slotting himself between your legs, pressing his wet mouth against yours and initiating a heated kiss that leaves you own taste smeared across your lips and in your mouth. His stubble scratches across your cheeks and chin roughly, and you moan into his mouth from both the feeling as well as the feel of his tongue in your mouth. 
As the two of you kiss, you allow your hands to wander across his chest and shoulders and around his waist and back, feeling the way he rolled his hips against you and ground his hard cock against your messy cunt and loving it. With each rough rut the head of his cock caught on your clit and left you a moaning whore beneath him — as if he was much better in his place above you. 
“Lemme fuck you, please,” he begs weakly, rutting against you desperately, “Please, please — God, I wanna fuck you so fucking bad, sweetheart, please-!”
“Y-Yeah, fuck me!” You gasp, “N-Need it, Sho, need your cock!”
“Fuck yeah, gonna fuck you so good — God you’re so fuckin’ wet, so perfect…” Shouta rambles, fumbling with pressing his cock inside. Gone is the sadistic man who’d lain between your legs taking you apart, and in his place is a man who had already fallen apart at the promise of getting to force his cock inside.
Sitting up, you watch as he uses one trembling hand to press his cock against you, letting out a whimper when it pops inside. The following roll of his hips that buries his length to the base inside you has you letting out a shaky cry; you let your head fall back onto the pillows, your thighs trembling as you boyfriend pulls out then presses inside all over again, quickly building up a rhythm that has the headboard banging against your wall hard enough to have the decorations hanging on it start to shake. In the back of your mind you thank anyone listening that no one had moved into the apartment next to yours yet, and felt a little guilty for whoever would inevitably take up the space. 
“F-Fuck — oh god, Daddy, please-!” you whimper, letting out a shriek as a hand cracks across the fat of your tits, the sensitive flesh stinging sharply as tears spring up in your eyes, threatening to roll down your cheeks in a never-ending river showing off the pain and pleasure Shouta was putting you through. The feeling of his cock inside of you leaves you trembling, the heavy drag so fucking good and perfect. It leaves you so very full and pleased that when he roughly fucks against your cervix it punches a sharp gasp out of you, the feeling lmost too much alk at once. You cry out for him, a soaking mess, and he moans into the base of your throat as he keeps his quick pace steady and rough, using your cunt like the little hole of his to fuck that it is and seeking his own pleasure like a starving man does food. 
“Oh god, Sho, please!” you wail, tits shaking from each brutal roll of his hips. You throw one leg over his waist as he grunts into your throat, and he wraps an arm under it and hoists it over his shoulder, the position only serving to allow him to bully his cock even deeper inside than before. Tears spring up in your eyes as his head slams against yet again against your sensitive cervix, and you could almost swear that he’d have worked his way into your womb with how rough he was being if that had been possible. Unfortunately it wasn’t, and when he laughs at the fucked out expression on your face it just triggers full tears, which well up quickly in your eyes becore beginning tk roll down your cheeks and temples, fucking ul your makeuo in a way you know will drive him fucking crazy. 
“Th-That’s right baby, cry for Daddy!” Shouta moans, gazing down at the tears and mascara streaking down your face hungrily, “What a good fuckin’ girl, crying on that dick — feels that fuckin’ good, huh?” 
Your nails dig into his back, scratching near-bloody lines across his skin as you struggle to hold onto him; he growls with each deep scratch. “Y-Yeah!” you sob, trying to speak but unable to get much out as he practically destroys you. “F-Fuck, Daddy, c-can’t think — it’s too hard, too hard to th-think when you’re mixing up my insides-!” 
“You can take it,” he growls in response, eyes and hair wild as he starts losing himself to the pleasure. “You can fuckin’ take it, can fuckin’ take this cock — c’mon baby, you’re my good little whore, aren’t you? Gonna take this fat fuckin’ cock like a big girl and milk me dry?” 
You wail, completely overwhelmed in only the best way as that ever-familiar knot begins to tie itself up in your lower belly, nodding wordlessly as his thrusts just get rougher and rougher. Your jaw falls open from the pleasure, you eye crossing and eyelashes fluttering, and he spits a fat glob of spit onto your mouth and watches gleefully as you immediately swallow it down. His own eyes roll back at the sight coupled with the sudden feeling of your pussy starting to clench, and he moans out a low, “That’s it sweetheart, cum again for me — cum again for Daddy, cum on my cock!” and relishes the sharp sobs you let out, your pussy spasming around his thick lemgth nd your body shaking in his grip. You cling to him, desperate and needy, and he groans hard as his pace gets messy and loses fluidity as he gets closer and closer, then finally starts cumming. 
“Oh g-god, oh fuck-!” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shuts as he fucks intk you messily, filling you with rope after rope of thick heat until he’s left twitching weakly inside of you. He eases to a stop and the two of you lay tangled up like that for a moment before he carefully pulls out. A mixture of his cum amd yours pours out of your hoel, and the sight makes his spent cock twitch twice before he uses the same  fingers he’d used to stretch you open to press it back inside once, twice, then one more time, less coming out each time before he stands on shaky knees and starts slowly working his way to the side of the bed to walk to the bathroom that stops with your hand curled around his wrist. 
“S-Stay,” you whine plaintively, a soft pout on your face and tears still in your eyes. “Don’t go, stay.”
“I gotta clean us up, honey,” Shouta murmurs softly, eyes fond and warm, and he smiles slightly when you shake your head and deepen the pout. 
“No. Tomorrow.” Your voice leaves no room for argument. “Stay.”
With an affectionate sigh, Shouta nods. “Okay. Tomorrow,” he murmurs, getting back in bed with you. You both worm your way into comfortable positions under the blankets and slot yourselves together, content to cuddle until the two of you fell asleep and inevitably drifted to your previously appropriated sides of the bed. 
The television, still on, drones monotonously in the background as the two of you lay there together, some late night program that neither of you care about playing as you bask in a shared afterglow. Shouta loves moments like this; they’re always so soft and perfect in ways he never thought he’d get — and yet here you were. 
He snatches up the remote and changes the channel a few times before finally muttering to himself and turning it off completely. His stomach grumbles a little, and he considers running to the kitchen for his food, but decides against it until you gently prod him away. 
“Go eat,” you mumble, having heard his stomach. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
He huffs out yet another fond laugh and pads into the kitchen, followed swiftly by Tofu, who had long since disappeared from the bedroom when their ‘activities’ had started. He grabs a fork while passing the silverware drawer then  reaches the fridge and opens it, searching through it lazily for a moment before finding his containers of takeout and snatching one up, digging into the chicken pasta hungrily. Several sharp pricks tickle against either side of his left ankle, and he nearly drops the container at the slightly painful feeling before looking down. 
“Tofu, you fucking bastard, let go of my fucking ankle!” he hisses, and the cat looks up at him through wide eyes for a second before turning and biting the back of his ankle hard. “You fuckin’— get off, you little shit!” The cat just growls around its mouthful of his Achilles tendon, and Shouta shakes his leg a little to try and loosen it to no avail, ultimately tossing his food back in the fridge after shoving several more bites in his mouth so he can reach down and snatch up the furry attacker. The cat writhes in his grip, but Shouta refuses to let go and eventually the tiny bastard goes limo in acceptance, and Shouta gets to go back to his food. The cat swipes at a thick piece of chicken, but Shouta puts the fork out of reach just in time. “No fuckin’ way; maybe if you’d not been a little asshole you could have had some, but you decided to be a little shit and bite me. No chicken for you, and I’m telling Mom.”
The cat meows plaintively, and Shouta shakes his head. “Nope, face the consequences of your actions and suffer.” A screech from the cat gets no response, and Shouta quickly finished up his pasta before tossing the box in the trash and closing the fridge; he had more food, but he wasn’t hungry enough to eat them right now, so they could wait until tomorrow. 
He pads back into the bedroom, finding his sleepy girlfriend scrolling through her phone through half lidded eyes. He drops the cat onto the bed and it sprints to her, curling up at her hip on her side of the bed, and he says deadpan, “Your little monster ambushed me.”
You scoff playfully, picking Tofu uo by the armpits and shaking him ever so slightly. “Tofu would never, he’s just a baby,” you purr, laughing a little as he bats at your face with nothing but fluff — a literal sharp contrast to how he’d dug his claws and teeth into Shouta in the kitchen. 
“He’s got you completely fooled, I can’t believe it,” Shouta says, shaking his head and smiling as he climbs into bed next to you. You press close, craving the feeling of his skin against yours, and he worms around until he’s comfortable. A simple silence falls between the two of you, Shouta melting into the mattress just like he’d craved since the night had started.
You’re the one to break the silence. 
“I hate her,” you mumble quietly, drawing invisible pictures on his bare chest with your index finger. You hear him hum in acknowledgment beneath you, then one of those big hands cups the back of your head. 
“I know you do,” is his reply, and you sniff a little and nuzzle closer to him. 
“It isn’t fair,” you pout. “She gets to put her hands all over you even though you don’t like it and no one bats an eye, even when you ask her to stop.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he croons softly, trying to calm you down from the inevitable fit you would have, but this doesn't comfort you. “I have you to make it all better.”
You push yourself up some so you can look at him, your lip jutting out in a vicious pout that he’d already heard in your voice. “You shouldn’t have to handle it, Shouta,” you say seriously. “She should fucking listen when you say no.”
Shouta just nods. “I agree,” he replies gently. “But she won’t change. We both know that.”
You shrug. “Then she’ll die,” you say simply, eyes dark and filling with the beginnings of bloodlust. Shouta hums a little yet again and seemingly ponders this, then nods again. 
“…Hmm. If that’s what you want, it’s fine by me,” he says simply, clutching you tightly. You scoff. 
“I wasn’t asking permission.”
“I wasn’t giving it,” he replies, recognizing the teasing tone. He presses back into the mattress with a sigh and allows all the tension to leave his body, relaxing into the bed he shared with you. You nuzzle against him again, and he hums happily at the contact and closes his eyes as the smoky edges of sleep flicker around in his mind. He can feel one of your hands playing with his hair, your fingers running through it and gently working out the knots. 
God, he was exhausted. 
“Sleep, Sho,” you murmur softly, pressing one hand to his cheek. He smiles faintly and leans into your touch as you smile back at him tenderly, and everything fades into a blissful silence. 
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A weight on his chest and a soft paw slapping his nose is what rouses Shouta from the deep sleep he’d been in, and he blearily opens his eyes to the sight of Tofu sitting on him smacking him across the face — just like every morning. 
Who needs an alarm clock when you have a cat?
Shouta groans and sits up, stretching and ignoring the annoyed mrrp! his cat lets out when forced to hop down. Glancing to your side of the bed, he smiles softly at the sight of you with wild hair and drool dripping down your chin with one hand thrown over your head, and he leans down and nuzzles you affectionately. You hum softly and slowly blink awake, your first sight of the day being him bumping his nose against yours. 
You grin. “Hi,” you whisper, and he grins back. 
“Hi,” he murmurs, and you giggle. You glance at the clock and then smile eagerly, a sudden lusty look in your eye. 
“Think we could have a quickie this morning before you go to class, Sensei?” you purr, and he groans and lets his head thump against your shoulder, closing his eyes. 
“If you were anyone else, that wouldn’t have been so fucking sexy,” he mumbles, and you giggle before pressing a quick series of kisses to his stubbly jaw. 
“Well, Sensei?” you ask playfully, and he looks at you with dark eyes. “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?”
He grins wickedly and doesn’t respond, instead jumping you and pressing you into the mattress. You accidentally let out a gleeful shriek as he begins to lave open-mouthed kisses across your skin, suckling at your skin long enough to leave marks alongside the bruises from last night. 
He pulls away, lips slightly swollen, and locks eyes with you, smiling breathlessly. “I’m gonna take you apart,” he says proudly, and over the next hour he does just that before padding off into the bathroom for another shower, leaving you spread out on the bed with a racing heart. Your entire body feels like a bowl of mush, and as the sounds of him showering in the bathroom reach your ears you groan, forcing yourself to move. You’d wanted to make him a bento this morning, and you damn well were going to. 
It’s done by the time he leaves the bedroom, fully dressed in his hero uniform, and you’re resting on the sectional with Tofu dozing on your lap and one of your several computers on hand. Shouta doesn’t want to know what you’re looking at so excitedly and pointedly ignores the screen as he dips down and catches your lips with his, kissing you deeply. 
“I’ll see you tonight, I don’t have patrol tonight,” he mumbles against your lips before kissing you again. You smile softly and nod. 
“Okay hun. Oh, and don’t forget your lunch on the kitchen counter!” youncall, and he grunts a response. He heads to the kitchen and grabs his keys and a coat as well as his capture weapon, and during all of this Tofu wakes up. The cat darts off of your lap and into your kitchen and then, judging from the choked screech your boyfriend lets out, proceeds to jump the man and start biting. 
“Fucking why, Tofu?!”
You giggle softly and call the cat, and the little menace bounces back to you as if he’d not done anything wrong, curling up in your lap and starting to purr happily. Shouta grumbles the entire way out the door, and then he’s leaving, and you’re still giggling. Hizashi was at the door, ready to grab breakfast with Shouta as expected, and he calls out a quick greeting and says ‘hello’ to Tofu before setting out with your boyfriend, letting the house fall silent. 
You grin and get back to work. 
Hours later you’re hungry, so you put your… less than legal work to the side and head to the kitchen, leaving Tofu asleep on the couch. As you go in, you pause, glancing at the end of the corner of the kitchen counter where the bento you’d made Shouta sits. At first you’re annoyed, but then you grin; he must have put it down in the struggle for his life when he went head on against the cat. 
Grabbing a pretty pink and white handkerchief, you wrap the large box up so you can hold it by handkerchief loops and begin making your way to U.A. School, buying yourself lunch along the way ( Because honestly? You deserved it. ). It takes around an hour, but eventually you make it, and after a few more minutes you manage to weasel your way inside and begin your trek through the halls to Class 1-A’s room. 
Ahead of you is a familiar white bundle of fur wrapped up in a small suit, and you giggle softly to yourself.  “Hello, Nedzu!” you greet brightly through a grin that mimicked a shark's predatory smile. The stoat ahead of you freezes, then turns quickly and responds in kind, his small black eyes shining darkly as the two of you — a frequent pair online when it came to tearing down certain aspects of hero society — coem to meet in the hallway. 
“Hello! What brings you to U.A. today?” he asks kindly, walking beside you as you continue on your way,  and you laugh genuinely. 
“Shouta forgot his lunch at home, I was just bringing it to him,” you explain with ease, and he nods. 
“Oh, how kind!” he replies, and smiles again while narrowing his eyes. “Though next time we will have to get you a security access card; it won’t do to have unannounced guests slipping in and out of the school!” Though the two of you could be considered ‘friends’, the slight warning was clear; while he wasn’t upset with you for coming in, he’d have preferred to not have a weakness in security that you could take advantage of enough to enter the school undetected.
Oh well. He’d patch the ‘hole’ and you’d find a new way to worm yourself in until the security system was sl tightly woven a drop of water couldn’t seep through. That was the entire purpose of this game, after all. 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” is the only response you give, and it seems to please him enough. The rest of your walk to Shouta’s classroom is spent in interesting conversation, various subjects coming and going until finally you reach the classroom door. 
“Well, this is your stop!” Nedzu says brightly. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thank you!” you call kindly as he disappears around a corner, and you knock then enter. 
All eyes lock on you as you come in, and out of all of them the only ones that don’t shine with confusion are your boyfriend’s. He stands from his chair and strides over to you quickly, an eyebrow raised, and growls quietly in a tone many ( but not you ) would consider harsh, “Now you know damn well you aren't supposed to come here — do you realize how many people there are here who could identify you?” 
You just smile brightly. “You left your bento on the kitchen counter!” you say, and he pauses for a moment and looks down at the pink bundle. 
“…Oh,” he mumbles simply, then nods. “Thank you, then.”
“You’re welcome,” you smile, and he turns to put it on the desk then pauses. You tilt your head to the side curiously, still ignoring the twenty pairs of eyes on the pair of you, as he turns around. 
“How the hell did you get in?” Shouta asks, both curious and confused, but you just giggle and give him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. 
“That’s a secret for me and Nedzu to know, honey,” you say sweetly, then disappear out the door. Aizawa stares after you, then sighs. 
“Well fuck,” he mutters. “That’s a match made in hell; god, why did I introduce those two to each other?” He turns and faces the sea of children he’d momentarily forgotten he had, and freezes. For a moment he fears they’ve recognized her, but then he registers that all twenty of his stupid children are grinning like the little devil spawns they are, and he fights off the urge to groan. “Why me, god?”
“Aizawa-Sensei has a girlfriend!” Ashido shrieks excitedly, and his entire Hell Class devolves into excited banter and rambling, endless questions pouring his way from all twenty, even the handful he trusted to be the quiet ones. 
“Why didn’t you tell us about your girlfriend, Sensei?!” Ashido asks, mimicked afterwards by nearly twenty voices. 
“Is she our new mom?” Kaminari asks, glancing at Kirishima through a grin that was brightly returned. The entire class giggles at the question. 
“Sensei has a girlfriend! Sensei has a girlfriend!” comes a random cheer from seemingly nowhere, likely Hagakure, and Shouta collapses into his chair with his face buried into his hands as twenty voices pummel him with question after question and the shrieks never end. 
“This. This is why I never told you,” he grumbles in response to Ashido, and the entire class devolves into more giggles and talking. Shouta sighs; it was only Monday. 
This was panning out to be a long week. 
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𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
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k4vehrtz · 7 months
Text
STARBOY
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-> Pairing: shōta aizawa / sub! (trans) male reader
-> Request: yes / no
-> Word Count: 1K (roughly)
➷...Summary: shō offers a helping hand (more like mouth) when you're in need.
-> Notes: not the fic that was meant to be posted this week but seeing as that one is yet to be completed i thought i would post this request in the meantime!
➷...Content Warnings: vaginal descriptions, use of the word cunt, mentions of testosterone, exhibition, age gap (though not specified, both are adults), coach/athlete trope(?), oral (reader receiving), squirting, being caught masturbating, biting, at some point it is implied that shō may have a negative reaction to the reader being trans but he does not. if i miss anything let me know.
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“You've got to be—holy shit, this can’t be real.” He grunts, his voice a gravelly whisper amongst the sound of sneakers frantically shuffling across the court. Jesus. His free hand immediately goes to his mess of black hair, strumming his calloused fingers through the stray strands clinging to his sweaty forehead.
It’s a lost cause — it’s all a fucking lost cause. This team is the last nail in the coffin that was Shōta Aizawa’s career as an athlete.
The corners of his lips can’t help but curl upwards at that thought. An athlete? Maybe some ridiculously delusional part of himself still had a shred of his youthful shamelessness. He is, and has been, a disgrace for quite some time now.
His days of being a household name are long gone. You’ve taken his place now, haven’t you? You’re a good player, a team player, and not too hard on the eyes either.
Shō’s had his eyes on you for a while now. You’ve come a long way since he first saw you handing out water bottles to the members of your team. Now you’re destroying his team on the court. It takes every ounce of self-control in him to not laugh. Funny how the world works, right?
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 Shōta Aizawa prides himself on how mature he is. He’s not going to pick a fight with you. You’re half his age for crying out loud. He’s above that because he’s incredibly mature; As most people his age would be.
So, it’s purely coincidental that he’s in the same locker room as you. He just happened to take a wrong turn when attempting to find his team. As their coach, it’s his duty to comfort them after such a…horrific loss. But accidents happen and he couldn’t just waltz in here without conversing with you. What if you misunderstood and painted him out to be some kind of pervert? It’s only right that he makes small talk.
But the words that were at the tip of his tongue disappeared in an instant. Perhaps his critical thinking skills have gone along with it. Well, this is quite the turn of events, isn’t it?
“…In all my years of playing this damn game,” He cocks his head sideways, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I’ve never found it remotely arousing.” He says pointedly, clicking his tongue. Your skin warms.
You open and close your mouth once, twice, and then a third time but no words slide past those ridiculously beautiful lips of yours. Shō doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s staring. “Each to their own,” He shrugs and you want nothing more than the floor to swallow you whole.
“I…” You start, scrambling to find the right words to say. But in a situation like this, what could you say? The coach of the opposing team just walked in on you with your hands down your pants. Not a good look.
“Wh–What are you even doing in here, first of all?” You counter, fighting a heated blush as you not-so-discreetly pull your hand out of your shorts. Fingers coated in your arousal fluid.
Silence, then a moment later he deadpans, “Got lost, and then walked in on you…doing whatever it is that you were doing.” And before you can stop yourself, “It’s the testosterone, I can’t help it, alright?” you dig yourself into a deeper hole.
Shō blinks at you, once, twice, and then a third time. It’s like you’re taking turns leaving one another speechless. Before his mouth forms something of an ‘O’ shape. You grimace, bracing yourself for this embarrassing situation to take an even worse turn. But it doesn’t.
“Jesus,” He curses, more so to himself, and then takes a deep breath. “I can leave so you can finish—” He stops himself, sounding embarrassed, “…or I can help you with that problem of yours.”
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“Go—You can go ahead,” you say, swallowing hard. Everyone has their needs, you remind yourself.
Shō’s gaze meets yours momentarily, silently requesting your approval once more. You nod, turning your head to the side as you lay on one of the benches, your legs spread. Dripping cunt on full display.
He lowers his face in between your legs without hesitation, warm breath tickling your sensitive thighs. As his teeth gently graze the fat of your thighs. He takes his time, gently nipping at your thighs before trailing light kisses up either one. Stopping just short of your drooling hole.
It’s torture, really. The way he alternates between light kisses, gentle nips, and then full-on sucking hickeys onto your inner thighs. Always stopping short of your cunt.
The rough pads of his fingers dig into the skin of your hips as he holds you in place. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. His tongue lapped at your thighs covered in arousal fluid. It’s like he’s never tasted anything sweeter and you squirm, utterly embarrassed. Embarrassed by how wet it makes you; Embarrassed by the sounds you’re both making.
After what felt like hours—You don’t know, you’ve lost track of time. His mouth moves from your thighs to your glistening labia. He presses a kiss to your outer lips, taking his time to spread them, before licking a fat stripe over your labia. You feel yourself tremble, biting down on your lower lip to stifle your moans. There are still people outside. But you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make it all the more exciting.
And then it happens without warning — his tongue breaches your entrance. Your eyes flutter closed, and you knit your brows together when you feel him squeezing your clit in between the rough pads of his fingers. It’s all so perfect. He’s dragged this out for far too long.
He’s so good to you. Your legs are shaking but he holds you in place with one hand as he laps at your sopping-wet cunt like it’s his last meal. You can feel your orgasm creep up on you and oh when it does, you’re squirting. Spraying your juices all over his face, and he doesn’t protest in the slightest. He pulls away, lips quirking, and licks what’s left on his face contently.
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lovebeatriceplz · 2 months
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Baby it's cold outside 🌧️
Aizawa x reader
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Summary: It's a rainy/ cold day and he's trying to convince you to stay in.
Note: I live in a country where it doesn't snow so I'm not even gonna try and write about it😭. We do have a cold front rn so i can write based on that. This is short.
Normally the sun would have been peeking out a little by now. But as your eyes flutter open it still appears to be dark. The clock on your wall, however, tells a different story. Attempting to sit up you find yourself held back by something...or rather someone. You lift up to blanket to reveal Aizawa's arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your stomach, not really planning to let go anytime soon.
His hair was somewhat disheveled. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, the only time his brain isn't overworking. You didn't really want to wake him, but you had things to do. In a soft, gentle manner you trace the scare on his cheek, he responds with a soft hum, leaning into your touch. "Love? Zawa wake up" you whisper. He grunts.
Sighing you start to untangle yourself from your husband's grasp. He opens one of his eyes, tightening his grip. "where are you going anyways? Didn't you watch the forecast..." He murmurs, falling back into a slumber.
"no... C'mon i still have to go to work". You sit up fully in the bed. He looks up at you. "can't we just stay in this morning, please?" He was hard to resist no doubt. Planting a kiss on his forehead you distract him long enough to slip out of the bed. You hear him groan "seriously?" He calls out. You were already heading down the hallway.
The cold floor causes you scurry quickly to the bathroom. The freezing air making you shiver. It was cold.
A cold shower was definitely a no no. As you wait for the water to warm up you sit on the edge of the tub, springing up immediately. The sink, the towels, the railings, the fricking door knob, was everything just freezing cold. You were beginning to reconsider your lovers pleas.
Actually getting ready wasn't any easier. Not when he was looking at you like that, studying every inch or your body, silently begging you to come back to him. "you're not making it through that door" he mumbles, turning his back to you and making a cave with the pillows. "i love you too" you tease, blowing him a kiss.
Standing in the door way you shiver, looking out you could hardly see anything because of the thick fog. You close the door, standing there and wondering if you should call a cab or risk it and walk in those conditions.
Large, scarred hands wrap around your waist, pulling you close as hot breath hits your neck, warming you up instantly. "You're a stubborn brat y'know that?" He murmurs into the back of your neck.
His fingers slither into your skirt, fiddling with the waist band of your underwear, causing you to chuckle out of nervousness "and you're a bad influence" you retort. He hums softly, intertwining his hands with one of yours "just for today, i promise".
And with that he's luring you back into the bed room, planting kisses all over and leaving markings on your neck. You decide to send a text to your boss later, they'll understand.
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bakubabes-princess · 7 months
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~ Kinktober Day 5 - Shouta Aizawa ~
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A/N: And we're showing up on day five to remind everyone that we're still hanging on. If you want to find all of the other collaboration pieces that have come out so far check out the masterlist link below. The taglist is open until October 25th so feel free to asked to be tagged in the pieces, but remember age must be in bio or easily found on your blog to be added to the taglist! We'll be headed back to bring you another piece on day 13. 👏
Genre: One-Shot
Kink: Wall Sex
Word Count: 1.3k
TW: smut, unprotected sex, 18+ content, xfem!Reader, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, daddy kink, pet name (kitten), offensive language (swearing), minors dni
Kinktober Masterlist 🎃
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The Hero Gala was something that Shouta Aizawa absolutely loathed every single year. Getting dressed up and going to spend the evening with the heroes that he had to spend time with every single day whether he was at work or on patrol? Not for him. But this year was just a little bit easier with you by his side. Having someone to help him keep himself from going crazy when everyone wouldn’t leave him alone was the only way he was going to survive the night.
You rest your hand on his chest, feeling his tense nature before he had even spoken a word to you. “Shouta…” His arm wrapped around you instinctively at the sound of his name, pulling you close to his side as heroes surrounded. Everyone had just finished the speeches part of the event so now it was time for them to hit the dance floor. Another thing that Shouta Aizawa was not about. “Don’t worry, my love.” You clutched his suit jacket a little and kissed his cheek. “I won’t make you dance. I know that that’s not something you’re ever happy to do.”
Shouta place his hand over yours and rubbed gently. “It’s not a big deal darling. I can handle it.” He clearled his throat and looked around the room, catching someone in particular coming that he really didn’t want to have to deal with. “Why don’t we go and get a drink or something?”
You noticed the urgency in his voice and acted quickly. “I have a better idea, Shouta.” You took his hand and dragged him, confusion painting his face as you made your way toward the restrooms. “I know how to kill two birds with one stone. I’ve got an idea to make your night go a little easier.”
Once you were in the hallway that led to the restrooms you grabbed the front of his suit jacket, pushing him back against the wall. “There’s no one around here and it looks like the restroom is open.” You placed your hand to the side of his neck and pressed a kiss to it, nipping with your teeth. “So how about we avoid the heroes and calm those nerves of yours at the same time?”
Shouta’s eyes widened and a small smirk tugged at his lips, his eyes darting back to the dance floor and then to the restroom door before he pushed it open with his foot. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. I’ve always known that pretty little head of yours was too smart of it’s own good.”
You squealed a little and led the way in, his hands grasping your hips before the door even finished closing. Shouta pulled you back toward the door, locking it before pushing you up against the wall. His hands wandered every inch of your body, balling the bottom of your dress up as he moved it out of his way. “Sh-Shouta…” You whimpered as you felt his finger slowly moving over your legs, pushing between them in search of a small piece of fabric that seemed to be missing. You nipped at his jawline and gave him a wicked grin. “I’m not wearing any, just for you.”
A growl sounded from deep in his chest as his hand pushed up between your legs, his fingers sliding against your folds. You gasped a little at the sudden pleasure, his fingers now plunging into you. There was a deep rasp on his voice as he let his desire overwhelm him. “Look at you, we haven’t even been in here for a very long and your thighs are dripping. Such a needy girl just for daddy, huh?”
You nodded, unable to make out proper words as his fingers fucked in and out of you, his free hand pulling one leg up so that he could get a better angle. Every little whine that poured from your mouth made his finger move impossibly faster, curling perfectly inside your walls until he just couldn’t take it anymore. The feeling of your pooling slick against his digits made him long more and more for just a little taste of that perfect pussy against his now throbbing cock.
Shouta pulled his fingers away and tugged his pants down his legs, lifting you from the ground with ease and pushing your back against the wall. His fingers slid between your legs one more time as he coated them in your cum, using it to lube himself up as he teased the tip of his cock against your tight hole. “F-fuck, Sho. Please, I n-need it.”
Your pleading made him jump into action, it had always been enough to drive him crazy when you put that lewd little tone in your words. Shouta pushed himself into your core, keeping a slow pace as he used his upper body strength to hoist you up and down over his cock to match the movement of his hips. “So fucking tight… god damn it, angel.”
Your arms wrapped around his neck as you sunk your teeth into your lip harshly, trying not to give anything away as you heard people talking outside the door. Every rut of his hips made it harder and harder as you bit into your lips more, nearly drawing blood. The euphoria that coursed through you as you realized just how hard it was to keep others from knowing was unlike anything the two of you had ever had. You had never experienced something like this with him before, you had never actually done anything outside of the comfort of your home.
Shouta placed his head in the crook of your neck, shockwaves of pleasure hitting every inch of his figure as he used your skin to muffle his grunting. Your walls were closing around him, he could feel you tightening with every roll of his hips, every drop of your body onto him. Your head dropped back against the wall as he sunk his teeth in your neck, a small shriek of ecstasy leaving you. His voice was deep as he grabbed your chin in his hand. “Uh, uh, better be quiet or we’re gonna get caught before we can finish this up.” He squeezed and placed his lips to yours, his tongue darting into your mouth as you moaned against him. “Now why don’t you do what I know you can and let go on me, darling.”
That was all it took. Your cunt convulsed around him, something about that dark, deep tone in his voice made the floodgates break. You sunk your teeth into your lips harsher than you had before to hold back the string of moans that wanted to break free from you, a slew of curses just barely audible as you came all over his shaft.
Shouta smiled devilishly as he continued to pounded into you, letting you ride out your high for as long as possible before he emptied himself out inside of your walls. You grabbed onto him tightly, watching the bliss on his face as he came down from his own high. Shouta lifted you from him and placed your feet back on the ground, running the back of his hand over his chin. “That’s my good, kitten.”
You leaned into his hand and gave him love drunk eyes, feeling his other hand help you bring you dress back down your legs. You placed a hand on his chest and took his tie in your other, helping him straighten it out. “I-I don’t know if I can go back out there just yet Sho. I can barely stand up.”
He chuckled at you and shook his head. “Well darling, we’ve been holding up the bathroom for far too long. I’ll peek my head out while you do what you need to and make sure no one's around. But we’ve gotta free this thing up.” Shouta stepped toward the door and gripped the handle, smirking before he turned back to you. “Better get moving, my love.”
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Taglist: @bakubabes-tatakae @cherriluvs35
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©2023 bakubabes-princess, please do not repost/modify without my permission, please do not use my work as ASMR without my permission
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alienaiver · 1 month
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Rugged
Aizawa Shouta x GN!reader
warnings: quirk-induced amnesia, canon minor character death (major in my heart tho), spoilers for... season 5 and forth? to be safe wordcount: 4.9k content: confessions, first kiss, fluff, sfw, no use of y/n, pro hero reader but quirk is unspecified, canon compliant, genderneutral reader, poc!friendly reader, body positive reader, hurt/comfort in like the mildest sense, soft love, amnesia situation, friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, started as a meme turned into something serious, something about cats, unbeta'd, flashbacks to high school days
notes: this is so embarassing to admit but i only came up with this story bcos of that tiktok/insta reel (link is a tiktok as thats where i could find the source material) about having a type that's 'rugged'. it was supposed to just turn into a little joke on that and... uh, ykno suddenly i was almost 5k deep into a childhood friends to lovers, ..ya my brain had a VISION alrighty!!!!! please enjoy a one-eyed kitty, one-eyed aizawa and interrupted confessions!
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Aizawa’s leaning forward on the desk, meticulously writing down an exact copy of your notes from English Literature that he missed yesterday due to being in the infirmary… again. He’s always known that becoming a Pro Hero with a non-physical quirk would be tough, but he didn’t imagine landing himself in a hospital bed as often as he does. He’s bulking up nicely, but he feels beaten black and blue every other day and it’s… exhausting.
Rewarding, but exhausting nonetheless. He’s momentarily disturbed as a chair is being dragged across the floor, screeching away before haphazardly thrown next to the desk, wrong side facing it, and Yamada throwing himself onto it, arms leaning on the backrest. He says your name in a sing-song voice – your given name, has he no shame? - and steals a peek of you from over the rim of his glasses. You rest your head in your palm and smile at him, “what’s up?” you ask, and he hums as if he’s thinking deeply about something. Aizawa’s got a bad feeling about whatever subject he’s about to bring up; ever since he appointed himself Aizawa’s wing man, the pestering’s both been non-stop and non-discreet.
Aizawa keeps his face buried in the notes, purposefully removing himself from the conversation.
“What’s your type?” Yamada asks and Aizawa has to hold back a facepalm. You simply giggle and play with the zipper from your pencil case before you answer, “hmm, I’m not sure. But with all due respect, I know it’s not you,” you tease him and he straightens his back in mock-surprise, the conversation’s one you’ve had before. He takes a hand to his chest, “what? Not me? Well you’re not my type either!” the shriek in which he yells is a little too loud, his quirk still a little too unmanageable when he gets excited – he winces as the rest of the class turn their heads. You simply laugh and bite your lower lip. Aizawa steals a look at you through his bangs, admiring the glimmer in your eyes.
“Yeah, I’m sorry ‘Zashi, I truly am, but… you’re just not… rugged enough.”
“What? I’m so rugged. I can be rugged!”
“Look at you, you’re not rugged,” you laugh as you gesture vaguely to… all of him. He takes offense as he puffs up his chest, “how am I not rugged? Because I’m not wearing a flannel in 80 degree weather?”
You hide your face in your hand as you try to contain your laughter, “yeah, sure, whatever… but look at you now. You fly off the handle like that, you’re too angry.”
“That’s a very rugged thing to do!”
“No, it’s really not.”
Aizawa has been saddled with the two of you for almost two semesters now, and he’s still not entirely used to the way you joke around. In the beginning he was always worried about you fighting and not getting along and he’d stare at you both with wide eyes like a startled cat and hope you’d settle down soon. You always did, laughing like the greatest joke was just told.
You lean forward on the table to bark out a laughter deep from your stomach, momentarily blocking the view of your notes that Aizawa’s copying. He lets out a soundless grunt at you being so close and pulls away in surprise when he accidentally smell your shampoo. He wants to lean forward again, to commit the scent to memory, but you’re already straightened back up, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye, “you don’t even want me, Hizashi, why is this always so important to you?”
This makes Aizawa freeze, terrified that Yamada will accidentally tell his secret to you. But Yamada simply crosses his arms, puffs up his cheeks and nods, “you’re right, I don’t. But I want you to want me. I’m the entire package.”
You laugh and shake your head, letting your arm fall onto the desk in defeat. “Sure then, ‘Zashi. I want you. Badly. More than anything. Please go out with me.” your face is as flat as Aizawa’s can be, and Yamada smiles proudly, “no thank you.”
Aizawa’s startled out of grading papers when his personal phone starts ringing next to him on the desk, the screen much too bright for the darkened room he’s situated in. It’s an unknown caller, which makes him hesitant at first but since it’s well past office hours, he knows it won’t be a salesman of any sort.
He bites his lower lip before he picks up.
“Aizawa speaking.”
“Ah, good evening. I apologize for contacting you at this hour, however, you are written down as the emergency contact for…” he apologetically butchers the pronunciation of your name, but gets your hero name correctly, “this is Aizawa Shouta, right?” the person on the other end confirms, and Aizawa nods before he verbally comes up with an answer.
“Well, it’s just that…” he explains your situation precariously, advising Aizawa to just come down to the station if he’s able, since someone will need to escort you home. He makes sure to remind Aizawa that you have two more emergency contacts on file in case he’s not available, but after getting the location, he’s already up from the chair before he’s hung up with the poor officer dealing with you.
From the call he knows you’re neither mortally wounded or in any kind of distress. You were on patrol when you encountered two villains. One of them turned out to have an amnesia quirk, and now you were stuck at the precinct, not entirely sure where your apartment is located. The officer informed Aizawa that you seemed calm and collected but that the last date you remember was well over 10 years ago even if you haven’t age-regressed in any way.
When he arrives, the officer leads him to one of the offices, profusely apologizing and thanking him at the same time. He’ll never really get used to the way newly appointed officers act around Pro Heroes.
Even if all facts and rationale tells Aizawa that you’re fine, he still grips the door handle way too tight, throwing open the door and evidently scaring the shit out of you, sprawled out on the couch with an ice bag on your knee. You spew out some profanities as you sit up. Aizawa immediately calms down as he sees you alive and well. He thanks the officer and agrees with the officer to sit down and talk with you before taking you home. He bows before he closes the door and looks back at you.
“I already gave a statement – was anything missing?” you ask, resting your hands neatly on your thighs. Aizawa shakes his head, “I came to pick you up – they informed you about which of the emergency contacts to call, right?”
Realization seems to travel across your features as Aizawa masks the sting he feels. Instinctively you reach out, but ultimately pull your hands back, “Aizawa?”
For a split second he lets his emotion show on his face – the way you say his last name instead of his given name, but he’s quick to hide it again. He nods and sits down on one of the chairs on the other side of the coffee table, “I was informed that your memory’s been wiped.”
You nod and look at the floor, “yeah. They took in the villains and interrogated them. It seems it’ll wear off in five to seven hours, but until then I’m stuck with my first work study as my most recent memory. I don’t feel like high school me, though, it’s just like there’s an empty gap in my timeline and not an age-related kind of thing. I can’t remember what has happened since then, but cognitively speaking, I’m still myself.”
Aizawa breathes in sharply, “well, that’s a relief. I have enough students to take care of,” he dryly jokes and the way your eyes widen make him self-conscious. He shouldn’t have made the joke he thinks as he shrinks in on himself.
“You’re a teacher?”
The way you ask betrays your emotions all too clearly and Aizawa holds back a snort. If the last of his personality you remember is high school, he gets why you struggle with the image of him taking care of the budding youth.
“A homeroom teacher, actually.”
Whatever preconceptions you had initially seems to dissipate and you smile proudly, “that’s amazing.”
You haven’t commented on his appearance; besides the moment where you didn’t recognize him, you don’t seem all too taken aback by his lack of eye and prosthetic leg. He’s relieved.
“You ready to go?” he asks, patting his lap with his palms before bracing himself to get up. You get up too and stretch your arms over your head, waiting for that satisfying pop, but it never comes. Annoyed, you let your arms falls and Aizawa smiles at you.
He leads you out of the room and as you put on the jacket he came with, he thanks the officers for their work with some polite back and forth and a bow.
The trip back is quiet as you seem to just take in your surroundings. You stop by your Agency to grab your personal items and civilian clothes that you left behind before your patrol. Luckily the offices are mostly cleared out, so you don’t have to ‘meet’ everyone and Aizawa gets out of explaining everything to everyone.
“Do you want me to escort you to your place? Or do you want to come to mine?”
The question is straight-forward and innocent; you sleep over so often that Aizawa’s spare futon has simply been dubbed your futon, but you seem taken aback, eyes wide and mouth agape. For a moment Aizawa’s blind to the confusion before he remembers.
“Sorry, you sleep over at my place a lot since it’s close to your work. I thought you might also like to see Benben.”
Your eyes that had seemed so tired ever since he arrived, lights up in recollection and excitement, “Benben’s alive and well?” you ask, absentmindedly leaning into Aizawa’s space in your joy. He struggles not to lean back reflectively.
“Yeah, she’s living with me now. She’s becoming old, though. But you’re still her favorite human, so she’d be happy to see you too.”
You giggle into your palm, clearly trying to picture Benben. She was a stray that you and Aizawa started to feed your leftover lunches to back during your first year at U.A. She was also one of the reasons you even started bonding with the stoic classmate. When you talk about the name Benben, a very bad nickname based off of bento, you always laugh and tease Aizawa about his cat-naming skills. While he defends himself in front of Yamada – the man with a habit of getting out his childish side – he never once argues against you on that subject.
Next to Aizawa, you clear your throat right as he’s about to unlock his front door. He’s been polite enough to not comment on the level of staring you’ve done ever since he picked you up, but it seems to be getting too much for yourself. He smiles at you gently, like he’s communicating with a lost child, and the smile makes you act before you can think too long about the action. Aizawa’s breath hitches and whole body freezes when your cold fingertips reach the skin of his cheeks. Your eyes look at him like they’re searching for something, and shortly after your palms make contact, your thumbs start traveling around his face, from his eyebrows to the slope of his nose and then a finger is being traced over the scar under his right eye. He can see all the questions fly through your head, the way you hold back from tracing the eye patch but stare at it like it’s not supposed to be there. He’s about to clear his throat when a thumb starts tracing his chapped lips before continuing down to his jawline, tickling his 5 o’clock shadow. As he tries to smile patiently at you, you mumble something under your breath that makes Aizawa’s heart stop for just a moment too long before racing at the same speeds as Yamada’s car when he’s late.
“It really is you… you’re just so…” you pause for a moment to swallow thickly and lick your lips, “…rugged.”
Not until you’ve had your (in Aizawa’s terms) grabby little fingers on every part of his face and given his heart an aneurysm with your words, does realization hit you. You seem to shrink and pull away to bow half-way a few times at him. Aizawa grumbles out a weak complaint about personal space and jingle the keys again to find the right one. No matter how advanced his work place is in terms of security and technology, he finds it unbelievable how many different types of keys he is expected carry for the school grounds alone. Logically, he’s aware that he’s fumbling due to your innocent advances but his brain’s not exactly acting calm and rational, so he furrows his brows and as he puts in the correct key, takes in a deep, calming breath.
When he motions for you to enter the apartment, he can’t help but observe you as you curiously peek around while you enter. You don’t toe off your shoes or step up from the genkan until the door behind him is locked and he gestures to the left pair of slippers in front of you. You let out a breath as you mumble, “sorry for intruding…” as if this isn’t your home away from home.
As Aizawa toes off his own shoes, he takes notice of your searching eyes. He jerks his head towards the living room, “she’s probably sleeping on the couch. She can’t hear very well anymore, so she doesn’t greet by the door.”
There’s a clear sort of heartbreak in your eyes that Aizawa recognizes, before you nod and walk in the direction of the living room. While your memory might be gone for the moment, it seems there’s muscle memory still intact as you purposefully step over the loose floorboard he always warns guests about. He smiles at that. Benben seems to spot you from her pillow on the couch because no sooner than you enter the room, he starts hearing the hoarse bleating of the senior kitty in there. She must’ve stayed up when Aizawa suddenly left, since it’s out of routine. She’s never been able to meow properly, which enchanted you since she first bleated at you for a bite of your convenience store-bought onigiri back when the two of you met her for the first time.
He hears you coo at her and can only imagine you both before he turns the other corner for his office to shut down the computer for the night. He quickly rejoins you and finds you with Benben on your lap, purring and headbutting your hands to her heart’s contents. When his eye travel higher to meet yours, he’s taken aback momentarily at the strained smile and wet eyes.
“She looks so loved.” you try to explain, and Aizawa can’t hold back the blush from the compliment. She does look loved now, a little on the fuller side (not by a lot, as her physical health is very important to Aizawa), her coat is shiny despite the coarseness that age brings, and she no longer has that stubborn eye infection it took Aizawa several years to treat out of her; she’s missing an eye now as a result, but she’s healthy.
You look around his living room, smiling and heaving in breaths at all the external proofs for her love; she has a pet staircase to both the windowsill, couch and the dining chair next to his; there are three different cat towers and several cat shelves for her to perch on although they’ve rarely been used for several years now. Aizawa can’t bear to take them down – what if she wants to go on one last adventure to the shelf highway he built for her close to the ceiling? It obviously wouldn’t be safe for her to do so, but robbing her of the options feels cruel to his heart.
When you pet her behind her ear and Aizawa situates himself on the floor pillow, you giggle, “you match.”
You’re referring to the missing eyes and while Aizawa takes no offense from the comment, he can’t help but snort at the straightforward observation. It’s very like you.
“How did you lose it?”
You don’t remove your eyes from Benben as you ask and from the shaky lilt to your voice, he knows you’re afraid of the answer. He’s afraid of telling you, too.
So much bad has happened during those years – you were there during his low points after, and asking that question is like removing the experiences you’ve shared. The grief you’ve suffered.
But he knows you want to know. Before he can answer, you continue, “can you tell me everything? About you… Oboro and Hizashi, too. I was informed it was only you, Hizashi and my mom on my emergency contact list. I know it’s not supposed to be miles long but… yeah…” you trail off and Aizawa’s grateful that you’re not looking at him. He’s not sure he’s able to control his face right now; and the emotion he’s showing wouldn’t be remotely close to soothing for you.
“Uh,” he jerks and clears his throat several times to stall, “when did you say your memory would be back?” he asks instead even if he’s aware of the answer.
You look up and hum thoughtfully, “they said five to seven hours around … two hours ago? So…” you count on your fingers and despite everything, Aizawa huffs out a soundless laugh, “three to five hours? Give or take.”
He inhales sharply. He can’t drive you off for that long, even if he used going to bed as an excuse. You’d just toss and turn in fear of what you’d come to remember.
So he tells you. He retells every painful memory with clear objectivity, pausing to let you process each one, seeing the light slowly dissipate in your eyes for every terrible incident. When he reaches present day, he inhales slowly and holds his breath for a moment to control his own emotions.
You’ve stopped petting Benben who’s sound asleep on your lap now, your hands hanging like lifeless limbs by your side. Aizawa then clears his throat, “you were scouted. In third year. ‘Zashi opened a radio station shortly after graduation. Oboro’s mom still invites us for hotpot for his birthday every year despite the mismatch in dish and weather,” you both laugh at that one – of course she insists on his favorite dish on such an important day. An image of the four of you huddled around, sweating over a pot of delicious food has you throwing your head back in sincere laughter, “you have a prodigy; you inspired me to take a pupil on as well, and he’s graduating this spring… I, uh… I use eye drops now.”
The last tidbit of information makes you turn your head so fast you almost get whiplash. Then, your expression turns stern, “didn’t I tell you! Didn’t I tell you to be careful!” you reprimand and he almost rolls his eye at you. Almost.
You shake your head at him and focus back on Benben, a little more color on you again as the mood has successfully shifted. He’s unsure if you’re pretending to be fine for his sake or if he actually succeeded in making you feel better, but he can’t stifle the yawn that comes out of him as soon as he feels relief.
You look up apologetically, “oh my God I’m so sorry, I’ve kept you up haven’t I? Please, you can just go to bed, I’ll be okay!”
Aizawa wants to argue but he also can’t fight the creaky ache he feels in his bones. He went straight from a night shift to school, napped in the teacher’s lounge and then home to grade papers. He’s dead-tired.
He gets up to carry his futon into the living room and set yours up in his bedroom. Usually, you sleep in the same, bare room as him and Benben, but he feels it might be too much for you without your memories, even if you sleep on separate futons with space in between. You make a joke about the futons but then, in a soft voice admit, “I think it’s nice you sleep on something accessible for Benben…” there’s a warm tone to your voice that makes him blush heavily before he pushes you out of his living room.
“I’ll sleep out here, you take the bedroom.”
You meekly argue about taking his bedroom, but he shuts you down in the same way he’s always done, and urges you to carry Benben in with you. You agree to have the door ajar in case Benben wants to walk around, and you bow your head when you bid him goodnight. Aizawa lets the light in the hallway stay on.
////
You wake up with a hitched breath and sweat on your brow, unsure when you managed to fall asleep. Disoriented, you take in Aizawa’s bedroom; you were supposed to sleep home tonight after your shift though, not to mention that Aizawa’s futon isn’t laid out next to yours. It takes you a moment to gather your bearings until it all comes back to you. You’d lost your memory.
You’d lost yourself. You hug your arms around you as the feeling of being lost still sits heavy in your body and makes you shiver. Seeing Aizawa was terrifying; you’d no idea of the obvious horrors he’d had to endure. You didn’t remember your best friend’s death.
For a moment you control your breathing, making yourself calm down as best as you’re able. It makes sense why Aizawa decided to sleep in the living room, if the last memory of him was a pimple-y teenager and not the gruff man he is today. You close your eyes and think back to right before you entered the apartment.
You roll onto your stomach and hide your face in your hands, letting out a drawn-out flustered groan. Without thinking, you kick your legs on the bedding to alleviate the embarrassment that’s coursing through you at your own actions. You’d just went all up in his face! The sensation of his stubble underneath your fingertips, his warm breath and his chapped but so, so kissable lips.
No!
You groan again, drowning in your one-sided misery of a crush. Your honed Pro Hero senses are completely dulled by your pining, so when Aizawa suddenly throws open the door and asks if you are alright, you screech as you lift your head from the pillow, “Shouta!”
“Shit, sorry, I heard you moving around so I thought you might have a nightmare,” he hurries to explain, secretly relieved to hear you say his given name again. He frowns when he can’t see your face with your back turned to him. Still frozen, you barely breathe before he continues, “...you are alright, right?”
Making a grimace and with no interest in facing him right now, you choke out “mhmyepdefinitelyeverythingsperfect!” in one single breath before you’re forced to inhale deeply. You hear Aizawa’s metallic foot as he walks towards your futon and hear the rustling of his clothes as he bends down in a squat next to you, “you don’t sound perfectly fine to me, though. Do you have a fever? Is it an aftershock from getting your memories back?”
Being the perfectly rational man that he is, he oversteps any boundaries to quickly check your temperature with his palm. Embarrassment can come after he’s made sure you’re okay.
You push his hand away weakly, still looking pointedly at the wall in front of you, letting out a strained laugh, “heehee, I’m just… you’re right, it must be an aftershock, right? Nothing else!”
He lets you swat his hand away without much resistance but stays where he is, letting the silence hang over you both for a minute. Suddenly, he croaks out all hoarse and desperate, “Just tell me if there’s anything, please.”
Your shoulders fall at the voice. Aizawa’s the opposite of having a heart on a sleeve, but you’ve been with him through enough tragedies to know he must be scared shitless right now. Whenever you or Yamada is even remotely bruised, he fusses over you in his own, annoyed way, until he finds you sufficiently healed. You sigh before you let your head fall back onto your pillow, a short moment to gather your thoughts and feelings before having to face him.
It must’ve been a lot for him, when you asked him to recount the years you’d momentarily lost. It would’ve been better to let it be, but he knew you so well and knew you wouldn’t let it go. Curiosity kills the cat, right?
With heavy and slow movement, you turn around so that you’re facing him, hoping your expression won’t betray your real emotions. You sigh and reach out for his hand. It’s shaking but as soon as your warm fingers make contact, he flinches before he relaxes.
Then, he grunts like he’s annoyed and chastises you for worrying him. You giggle, “I’m sorry, you’re tired, right?” you ask, knowing his schedule this week is packed. He usually leaves little wiggle room for emergencies, however many he encounters.
Before he can reply, you pull at his hand and he topples over, half on the futon and half on the floor, on his knees. You laugh and pull him even closer to you, hoping your beating heart isn’t as loud as it feels.
You and Aizawa have cuddled before; loneliness and grief has made you carve out comfort in each other, but nothing else have ever been spoken aloud. No kissing, no romantic notions to trace back to. Having a one-sided crush since high school feels deafening right now, when all the years travel back to you after what only amounts to a moment without them.
You want to tell him how you feel; losing your memories made you realize how much you’d like for him to comfort you with kisses if anything should ever happen; how you’d like for him to hold you without holding back.
He grumbles where his head is rested in your neck after he’s settled, but he makes no effort to move. You nuzzle into the mane of hair and breathe in his scent; it’s a lavender-scented shampoo that Yamada insists on buying for him. He never accepts it without complaining, but he also never showers without using it. There’s a spare in your bathroom, at the Agency’s bathroom and at his teacher’s dorm at U.A.
“Y’know, I was really surprised for a moment that you became a teacher.”
He makes no movement, but you know he’s listening.
“But as soon as I thought about it, it made perfect sense. You care so much it sometimes hurts to watch…”
You feel his fist tighten around your bedding, but he stays otherwise quiet still.
“You hurt watching me, too, right? How we both have a habit of bending over backwards for what we perceive is right.”
You start dragging your hands through his hair, letting out a sigh.
“I like that we know each other so well. I like how after so many years, you’re still right here in my arms…”
You pause as his upper arm snakes around you, a sharp exhale against your neck.
“You’ve never dated anyone. At least, not anyone you’d tell me about, so I have no idea where this will lead me to but,”
You take a moment to gather your nerves. There’s really no backing down now. Even if you regret it, your words have already given your feelings away; there’s nothing you can take back.
There’s nothing you want to take back.
You’re about to continue your confession when Aizawa pushes against your neck, his warm lips, soft despite the dryness, presses against your pulse point. You can hear your heartbeat so loud in your ear that the rustling of the sheets from Benben is indistinguishable to you, the only sensation you’re able to take in being Aizawa’s lips as they briefly pull away from your neck, only to push back higher up, closer to your jaw.
You whine and pout, but it’s shaky and without much force. You want to protest, scold him for interrupting you but suddenly he lifts his head to face you, and you’re faced with wide eyes and blown pupils. He steals a glance at your lips before he licks his own, pink tongue peeking out. You feel like a cornered prey, one that’s about to be devoured by a beast. When he hovers mere millimeters above your lips he pauses as if to ask for permission and the sigh you let out makes him know that everything’s okay. That everything he’s ever wanted, wished for, dreamed of, is real.
That losing your memory for a second made you desperate to make more meaningful ones.
And you kiss.
While curiosity did kill the cat, satisfaction definitely brought it back.
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plutopitou · 3 months
Text
The phantom
synopsis: reader has ability/quirk to travel to a state of limbo where the deceased reside. Mention of death, sad angst, like actually
Song: Let the light in - Lana Del Rey
I was crying like a baby writing this which has never happened to me before, still loved it sm
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His once calloused hand brushes past the crown of your head pushing back loose strays, focusing on the perfect structure of your features. He wanted a better look at just how beautiful you’ve gotten.
You grasp his large palm in yours, dragging to hold his wrist softly, “I missed you a lot recently..”
You felt the heat of his gaze scatter around your face, exhaling deeply from his nose; you knew he was deep in thought, it made your throat swell in sorrow. “You know what I said last time.” His voice was edging close to stern.
Your gaze narrows down at the polished floor, “Well I don’t know, I guess I couldn’t help myself this time.” Whispered from your lips.
Everything in the home was just as it was the last time you were here. The books along the shelf were untouched, the curtains the same color with the same creases, the counter dust-free- everything still remained dust-free.
“I haven’t been thinking straight lately. Himori’s been trying to force me out the house to do stuff like go for walks, cafe’s, see a movie..”
“Well it sounds like fun, y’know she’s just trying her hardest. The best you can do is try to enjoy it, sweetheart.” He assured softly.
Why did it feel like life was taunting you.
It was quiet.
Outside were birds singing its famous song, banding with the cicadas and wisps of the wind blowing past the limp branches of the weeped willow trees. It was picture perfect, the shade of blue sky with no rain in sight- just floating, pillowed clouds slow dancing around the air above you with no end in sight.
His aura near you felt warm and present.
Hot tears brimmed your lower lashes, your chest felt tight with a suffering ache trying to crawl its way out your stomach, stuck in your throat.
“I can’t enjoy it.” Your voice failed, words trembling out as your eyes meet his. “And you fucking know that.” You forced out in a choked sob.
His soul just didn’t know what to do.
He watches as what looked like months of built up resentment towards him sets free in this state of limbo he continues to wander in. You shouldn’t be back, yet he couldn’t blame you, either.
Your head fell low in your lap, shaking with grief and all he wanted to do was fall to his knees and say everything between you two was going to be alright.
He knew all you wanted to hear him say was he was not going anywhere.
But it wasn’t true.
He wanted you out of this phantom tale you weren’t supposed to be in and live your own life the way it was meant to be.
Both your attention turns to the rumbling in the far distance. The weather outside becomes grayer, the fluffy clouds swell in darkness, the trees swaying trying to brace itself for the incoming storm.
He faces you, his warm embrace wrapping around you like a childhood blanket.
It felt like time paused in a place there was no time. Your tears were swiped away by his thumb, palms grasping your cheeks in a desire no one could take away.
“I lived my life just to see you happy, you know that right?” He asks with attentiveness. You quickly nod holding back more tears. Your faces were a mere inch apart. Your eyes fluttered shut and felt yourself give and lean closer to him.
But he holds you still.
He grasps your palm holding it on your beating heart.
You both knew your presence was a disruption here. But fate is not something to be discriminatory, it was also cruel. And the emptiness you both felt knew that first hand.
“Don’t live your life for me anymore.” Your heart burns, letting your head fall on his shoulder to soak his shirt. “You can’t let this hold back from the life you should have. Nothing can take away what I remember, sweetheart. And you’re not someone I can forget.” He whispers.
The distraught in his voice was telling. He was holding it together by a thread, yet still he knew if he gave into what he wanted most, you’d continue to suffer in a rewritten timeline.
“I can’t forget you either.”
The sky grew darker.
Selfishly, he leaned to kiss your tear away, lips lingering on the side of your cheek like a phantom.
“Please. Don’t come back.” He murmured.
Your hand was left empty. The heat of his hold still lingering as you watch him walk out the door.
Your feet followed without telling them to, racing out the door behind him. The surroundings phased as you found yourself outside on the balcony of your shared apartment.
The wind chill blows past your hair as you walk back inside. Your framed photo together still lays on the desk, a thin layer of dust resting patiently. It’s only a memory.
You wipe it away and set it down, dust-free.
Wiping the last stray tear yourself, you walk out to find Himori.
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BNHA: Keigo, Bakugou, Aizawa
JJK: Geto, Gojo,
Part 2 prequel possible with a poll on which character i should base it on for a stronger plotline, stay tuned :/
Please follow, like and reblog ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄
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fairytsuk1 · 2 years
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Incubus aizawa????
in hindsight, it was a joke! something silly, something that wasn't actually meant to come to fruition!
your friends had come to you, eager smiles and mischievous thoughts as the exclaimed that the legendary "Aizawa" would only present himself on the days leading up to Halloween and you had to do the ritual.
"are you sure?" you feel anxiety thrumming in your neck as you stared at the supposed picture of the Incubus... he was pretty attractive.
huge muscles with wispy hair that gave him such a manly aura, horns that stuck like mountains out his head and black hair that was luscious in nature but you reckoned could wrap around you like snakes.
he shouldn't be hot, but he looks exactly your type and it's been a bit of a dry spell lately...
"yes, you just have to say it! he's totally your type right?" kimiko explains excitedly, sleepover pajamas pink and cute as she gets in your face, "you wanna fuck him right?"
embarrassment burns in your core as you sit in the middle facing the framed photo of Aizawa; clad in your own thigh-high socks. apparently he liked those, he sounded like a pervert to you.
"oh my god, just shut up so I can do the ritual!"
and then you shift anxiously before beginning to murmur, growing to a chant.
"my daemon Aizawa, i give myself up to you. I want you to devour me whole, and if I shall not please you..." your minds blanks and there's a helpful whisper from toga, "you may feed me to your beloved three-headed cat, insomnia."
and nothing happens.
"i told you it was stupid! it was never gonna work!"
sighs of disappointment ring out around the circle of girls, and none of you can hear the heavy steps of a daemon making his way through your apartment with tired eyes and donning an all-black outfit.
you're sleeping soundly, and you're still wearing his favorite outfit. normally, well, more like rarely; aizawa liked to feed these weak little mortals to his cat and call it a day.
dare he say it, you were too cute to be eaten. and so you awoke with a heavy feeling on your chest and slick dripping between your legs.
"you give yourself up for me? you're a dedicated one, huh? and i'm a pervert? that's a bit mean."
you can hardly breathe and you're not even sure you want to with the mass whose shoulder come out of your chest ghostly, "wha? wha's goin' on? are you...!"
and then he's rising, fog coming off him in billows of clouds that dose the room in a heavy haze. he's intoxicating, and you feel yourself mewl as he climbs out of your body and looks down at you.
you were right, hair as black as coals that could strangle you at any moment. but he doesn't kill you, he just grins.
"giving yourself up to me is a huge sacrifice."
"i didn't!"
"oh, but you did, my love. you did when you wore..." he snaps the band of your socks, "these. and when you said that chant of course. i was going to take your body the minute it happened."
his hand, cold and veiny wraps itself around your throat as his grin grows even wider, "and one more thing."
"daemon is too aged. call me daddy, and i'll make you cum so hard you'll think you're dead. okay?"
against your better judgement, you nod.
"good. now, let's see what's under these pretty panties hm?"
and you give yourself up wholly to him once again, you just hope he leaves your soul alone after he's done with you.
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xothatnerdykid · 7 months
Text
say yes to heaven (say yes to me)
Aizawa finds out you have a crush on him. Fluffy, slightly suggestive Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x reader drabble. Slight age gap, teaching assistant!reader. 1,937 words.
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"You know Y/N has a crush on you, right?"
You nearly choke at that, freezing up against the wall. You had been taking a phone call outside the faculty lounge when you overheard Yamada and Aizawa make their way inside, oblivious to your presence. 
"I thought I told you to drop it already, Hizashi," Aizawa grunts.
"Wait, you know?" A third voice, Nemuri, asks incredulously, followed by a noise that sounds suspiciously like Aizawa elbowing Yamada mid-laugh.
You feel your face heat up, mortified at their discussion. Of course Aizawa knew you had feelings for him, you all but slap yourself. How could he not when you clam up and turn into a stuttering mess whenever he’s around? 
You're well aware that plenty of the girls of Class 1-A (and even 1-B) harbor a not-so-secret crush on their sensei, and you're embarrassed to admit that you're not much better. You're always suddenly breathless and flustered to be near him.
Always a little too eager to help during training or classes. Always tripping over your words whenever he spoke to you. He must have tried to brush it off at first, but it just kept happening too many times for him to ignore.
"The only thing I know," Aizawa answers gruffly, "Is that this conversation is bordering on entirely inappropriate."
"What? Why? It's not like she's a student here or anything," Yamada retorts.
"She was, just a few years ago."
"Yeah, and now she's my teaching assistant," Nemuri counters.
But you can practically see Aizawa shake his head. "See? Same difference."
"Oh, lighten up! So you have a bit of an age gap—"
"I wouldn't call 8 years a bit of an age gap, Hizashi."
"Who cares about that? I think she could make you happy, Shouta, and you deserve to be happy."
“Now that I think about it," Nemuri adds. "You two would be good together. You need someone who can make you smile and stop being so serious all the time, and she..." She chuckles playfully. "For some unexpected reason, really likes that about you."
"Don't tell me you haven't at least thought about it?" Yamada teases. “I see the way you look at her, too, you know."
Nemuri squeals, "Just imagine, the two of you being all lovey-dovey. It'd be so cute!"
Your heart catches in your throat, but Aizawa is quick to interject.
"It doesn't matter. None of those things you said matter. To do anything about Y/N's feelings for me would be taking advantage of her."
"Fine," Nemuri huffs. "But the least you can do is talk to the poor girl about it. You can't keep giving her the cold shoulder forever."
There's a beat of silence before Aizawa dejectedly responds, "You’re right.” And you hear the door knob lock behind them.
______________________________________________________________
You pretend not to notice that Aizawa's awkwardly been standing behind you for almost five minutes now, hoping he'd eventually leave if you looked busy enough typing away on your laptop.
And he almost does. If it wasn't for Midnight and Mic, who you can see out of the corner of your eye, gesturing at him quietly but frantically to go on. 
Your heart races when he clears his throat. "Uh, Y/N, do you have a minute?"
"Um..." You consider saying no but can't think of a reason fast enough. So you take your time closing your laptop instead, bracing yourself. "Sure."
You get up from your seat and turn to face him, but neither of you can meet the other's gaze, which just makes everything feel all the more mortifying. 
"I'm aware of...Er, I mean...I apologize if I've seemed a little standoffish lately."
"You mean more than usual?" You smile weakly, trying for a bit of humor.
When you look up, you're surprised to see that his expression is serious but gentle. He almost smiles for a second before he seems to think better of it.
"It's been brought to my attention that you might…” He sighs, then starts over. “If I’ve ever given you the wrong impression, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention. I want you to know that I respect your feelings, but I think it’s best that we maintain a professional relationship."
“Of course! I-I never – You never – Um,” you swallow thickly, feeling your face burn up. “I agree.”
“Good. I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”
Like it could get any worse? You bite back the retort.
You take a deep breath, attempting to regain your composure, and plaster on another half-hearted smile. “It’s fine. We can move past it.”
“Glad to hear that.”
_________________________________________________________________________
But you do not, in fact, move past it. 
At least not for a few weeks. 
In the days that follow, you find that you can't shake off the conversation. The way he looked at you, the vulnerability in his voice — it all lingers in your mind. The air between you feels heavy with unspoken words and a shared discomfort. The many days at work that follow are filled with lingering silences punctuated with stilted conversations, and a constant awareness of each other’s presence.
Even more embarrassing is the fact that everyone seems to know about your unrequited and inappropriate crush now, if they didn’t already. You notice Mic and Midnight's sympathetic glances, All-Might's whispered concerns.
Their attempts to act normal around you are agonizingly obvious, so you make it a habit to be the first one to leave every afternoon and spend most of your days alone at your table, with your eyes glued to your laptop screen or your nose buried in a mountain of paperwork. 
So how, exactly, did you find yourself in this position? Alone with Shouta in his apartment and sitting in his lap with your fingers tangled in his hair and his tongue practically down your throat?
_________________________________________________________________________
Last thing you remembered, you were walking home when he suddenly fell into step beside you.
"Hi," you managed, giving him a weak smile. It must've been the first time you've ever been alone together since the talk. 
"Mind if I join you?" He tilted his head to ask, his hands in his pockets and looking as tired as ever. 
"Not at all," You tried to reply coolly, even though your heart just about dropped to the floor.
A familiar awkward silence fell upon both of you.
You bunch up your skirt in your fists, acutely aware of the way he’s looking at you. His usually stern face seemed almost…unsure. Finally, he broke the silence. "How have you been?”
“Oh, you know…” You waved your hand dismissively. “Just trying to get through each day.”
He nodded solemnly. “Listen, y/n, I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings last time we talked, because that’s the last thing I’d want.”
You shook your head. "No, not at all. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for the position I put you in."
"I just want you to know that...It's not that I don't..." He trailed off meaningfully, his eyes downcast. "I just don't think it would be appropriate or fair to you to pursue anything because...Your feelings for me…they’re not real.”
You felt your heart skip a beat. “What?” 
"I understand that you might be confused by...that the dynamics of our relationship might have clouded your judgement and made me seem…”
“Stop.” You level him with a fierce gaze and he does. You do your best to sound firm despite the sting of his words. “It’s one thing for you not to return my feelings. That I can understand. But don’t patronize me by telling me what I do or don’t feel. It’s clear that you think otherwise, but I’m not a child, Shouta.”
Aizawa, surprised by the intensity in your voice, leaned back slightly. He doesn't say anything, which gives you the courage to speak your mind, telling him off before you can think better of it.
“I don’t like you just because you’re older than me or I see you as some sort of authority figure. I like you because you care a lot but pretend you don’t. And it makes me want to get to know you more. I admire your dedication and hard work at being a hero and a teacher here.”
He looked at you thoughtfully for a few moments, then nodded, a flicker of realization crossing his features as he absorbed your words. “You're right. I shouldn't have assumed or tried to define your feelings for you. I apologize."
"Thank you."
"And as long as we’re sharing…” He rolled his sleeves up, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think you’re a child, you know. I think you’re intelligent and perfectly competent. In fact, I think you're amazing."
The irritation and hurt you felt just moments ago was quickly chased away by the warmth that spread within you at his surprising admission.
He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I was hesitant because I didn't want to take advantage of you, given our age gap—"
"It doesn't bother me," you said with newfound confidence, and he couldn't help but chuckle at your boldness.
"But maybe... I've been too cautious."
You tilted your head, smiling up at him softly, sweetly, like you used to. "What do you mean?" You asked even though you already knew, you just wanted to hear him say it.
He ran a hand through his hair again, rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous habit, you’ve noticed. "I mean, perhaps I've been so focused on maintaining professional boundaries that it's made me overlook the possibility of a genuine connection between us."
You bit the inside of your cheeks to keep from smiling any wider. "Are you saying...?"
He nodded, a hint of a blush tinting his face. "Would you consider having dinner with me tomorrow?"
_________________________________________________________________________
Fast forward to now, hours after dinner and one glass of wine too many, and you’ve somehow managed to muster up the courage to kiss him good night.
It catches him by surprise, but once he leans into it, he doesn’t let you pull away. He responds with an almost bruising eagerness, kissing you again, and again, and again, until you find yourself pressed up against the door of his apartment.
He jams his keys into the doorknob, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.
But instead of swinging the door open like you expected, he puts his hand up against it instead, next to your face, and presses his forehead against yours.
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” he says breathlessly, his eyes screwed shut.
You draw a steadying breath of your own. “Why not?”
“Because,” he drawls in that frustratingly raspy voice of his. The one so low and deep you could practically feel it vibrating against your own chest, echoing off the walls inside of you. “You do something to me…to my self-control…”
You swallow thickly. “Do I?”
He nods.
“Good.” You link your hands around his nape, pulling at some of the hair there, and smile against the crook of his neck. “Then the feeling’s mutual.”
He puts his hands on your waist, gingerly, cautiously. “Doesn’t make it rational.”
You kiss his jaw. ”Why does it need to be rational?” And then his cheek. ”We’re both adults.” And then gently bite his ear, whispering, “Why can’t we let ourselves want what we want?” 
“And are you sure…” He pulls away a little, his eyes still closed and his eyebrows furrowed. “This is what you want?” He finally opens his eyes to search yours, and his are so smoky and dark you feel as though you're falling through the night sky.
You take a moment to gather your thoughts, captivated by the intensity in his gaze.
"Yeah," you answer, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. "I'm sure."
His smirk is the last thing you see before your eyelids flutter closed and his lips are on yours again. 
He doesn’t waste another moment.
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tired-teacher-blog · 2 months
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So, Aizawa's neck is extremely sensitive. Yup I called it.
There is a reason why he conveniently keeps it wrapped in his capture weapon most of the time.
Finding out about it was purely coincidental, it was never your intention to brush your fingers along the pale skin when you reached out to tuck a loose strand behind his ear, you couldn't help it either, he looked breathtaking in a simple black tank top and similar colored sweatpants as he emerged after his evening shower.
What was meant to be an innocent gesture, soon turned into something else entirely when his breath suddenly hitched and goosebumps appeared where your fingers had touched.
It was a new and unexpected sight that triggered something within you, and you needed more of the sensation it had evoked..
_ "So even the incredible Mr Aizawa has a weakness like the rest of us huh?" you teased for the nth time as you tightened your grip on his wrists and pressed down on his throbbing bulge before diving in to suck another bright red spot on his once flawless neck, "you've kept it well hidden this far, I'm impressed."
It's no wonder to be frank, he has always been dominant and well guarded even with you, and it is unusual of him to show any sign of vulnerability, which is why you held on to this rare instant with all your might.
_ "Alright that's enough, you've had your fun haven't you?" he huffed in apparent annoyance but did nothing to stop you, and how easy would it have been for him to free himself of your clutches, had he truly wished to.
_ "Just a little more, please." you whined a plea and kissed his delicate skin again, relishing the strangled groans he so desperately sought to muffle.
_ "Whatever.." but his feigned indifference couldn't fool you.
How could it, when his restless hips unveiled his growing impatience for something more?
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Divider by : @/saradika
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4izawas · 4 months
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Could write a aizawa fic with a hybrid!reader? Like the shounya fics you wrote? I love those ones!
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𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐓)𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋! | 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮-𝐧𝐲𝐚.
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𝐂𝐖 ‼️ | hybrids, hybrid au, no quirks, catgirl reader, fem reader, shou-nya uno reverse ( ur the kitty now besties ! ), misunderstandings, aizawa is a big dumb dumb n didn’t research *all* cat hybrid behaviors so u get a lil pissy ngl, night shift security guard aizawa, rut cycles/in heat, creampies, biting, breeding kink, daddy & master kinks, use of ‘kitty’ as a pet name.
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“This’ll be your room,” Shouta grunts, opening the door to the guest bedroom in his apartment. “Used to be the guest, but you’re here to stay, so it’s all yours now. Decorate it however, I don’t really care.”
You blink owlishly into the dark room he’s offered you. It isn’t bad or small, it’s rather nice actually, but you were confused. Turning to look up at him, your bottom lip trembles a little as you ask, “B-But — I just got here, what did I do?”
“Huh?!” The noise he makes is filled with blatant confusion, but you don’t even register it as you clutch at your tail, upset. 
“What did I do wrong?” You ask again, eyes starting to water a little, and your new master starts looking a little uncomfortable; he never knew what to do when people cried. 
“Nothing!” he exclaims, starting to panic just a little. Why were you having such a visceral reaction to getting your own room?!
“Then why am I being punished?” you whine, eyes shimmering with tears, and he shakes his head and hands placatingly. 
“What?! You aren’t!” 
“But I’m — I’m supposed to s-sleep with you!” You hiccup, and Shouta can honestly say he doesn't know what to do. You’ve been in his apartment for less than half an hour and he’s already made you cry. How the fuck was he supposed to know hybrids slept with their owners? He’d never owned one before! Besides, aren't cats supposed to want their own space? That was the entire reason he allowed Hizashi and Nemuri to talk him into adopting a cat hybrid, eventually choosing a catgirl over a catboy after Nemuri showed him a picture of you cuddling your tail while sleeping that the hybrid shelter you’d come from had posted. 
“It’s not a punishment,” he says patiently, “I just want you to be able to have your own space.”
“But I won’t take up much room, I promise,” you say quietly, refusing to look at him. “I can be good — you won’t even know I’m there.”
Shouta sighs, then shakes his head. “No, you need your own room. I don’t want to share mine with you.” He knows he’s said the wrong thing when he sees your body stiffen, your fur puff up, and your ears flick back to pin themselves against your head, but what was wrong about it he doesn’t know. He reaches out a hand slowly, but you dodge it with an angry-sounding inhuman noise, and it startles him. 
“If you didn’t want me, why adopt me?” you ask coldly, shocking him, before stalking into your room and locking the door behind you. For the rest of the night until time for his patrol hits he tries to coax you out, but you refuse dinner and snacks and cuddles ( all the things that Nemuri and Hizashi had said could tempt you out when he’d texted them in a panic ), holing yourself up in your room and sticking it out until he’s forced to leave for his security job from midnight to five. When he gets back he finds an empty tin of cat hybrid-specific food in the trash, one of the dozen and a half tins that the shelter had sent him home with that he’d turned up his nose at and promptly decided to feed you real food instead of, alongside a freshly washed bowl and spoon drying on the counter rack. The plate he’d made for you is untouched on the counter, and likewise with the bag of cookies he’d tried to get you to come out with, and he groans. 
If it wasn’t obvious you were pissed with him before, it definitely was now. 
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“C’mon, please come out,” Shouta groans a week later. Seven days have passed, and he’s not even caught a glimpse of you since that first day, and he’s starting to worry. He knows you’re still in there, he’s heard you moving stuff around, and he knows you come out every now and then to snatch stuff because so many blankets are missing that it isn’t even funny anymore, but he doesn’t know what to do. Obviously he isn’t going to force his way inside your room, considering that would defeat the entire purpose of giving you your own space, but the nerves were starting to get to him. 
Honestly he might have sent an SOS to Nemuri had he not come home from his night shift later that night and found you lounging on the couch in front of the TV while some random true crime show played, your tail flicking back and forth idly as the narrator recounts a particularly grisly murder case. 
It’s a welcome surprise, seeing you out of your room, and he’s relieved — then startled when he goes to gently scratch one of your ears and you hiss at him, climbing onto the back of the far end of the couch and draping yourself there while giving him a warning look. He just blinks, shocked, before dropping the hand he’d still had raised, and retreats to the kitchen for a late snack. While he’s there he shoots off a text in the group chat telling Hizashi and Nemuri that you came out as well as what had happened, and when Nemuri jokes that you must really not like him now he groans quietly, because wasn’t she right? 
The next few days are the same, with him coming home to you lazing around the house and acting growly whenever he gets too close or brushes against you by accident. You’re at least eating more, though, considering he comes home nightly to find the meals he’s made you gone entirely without even leftovers remaining. Maybe a different man would be angry, but Shouta was just happy you were eating what he was making and that everything was falling into a lax routine that he could understand; like he’d thought before, cat hybrids weren’t unlike cats, so of course you’d get pissy now and then — it’s how cats are. 
And then he comes home, and you aren’t somewhere in the living room. His heart plummets as he worries that he’s somehow managed to fuck up again, but then a pained-sounding yowl reaches his ears and he rushes to your room in a panic. He’d not locked the door that night, overtired from a rough night’s sleep ( or lack thereof, really ) and if someone had broken in due to his stupidity and was hurting you —!
Throwing your door open with a call of your name on the tip of his tongue, he’s greeted by the sight of your slick, swollen pussy pointing directly at the door as you arch your back while on all fours and reach a hand under and between your legs to finger yourself, distressed mewls falling from your lips as they do nothing to satisfy you, and suddenly everything clicks into place for Shouta. You were in heat — meaning the week before you were in preheat, and therefore excessively hormonal. It would only be expected for your patience to fluctuate like the temperature just between summer and autumn.  
Stupid, stupid! He thinks, moving to back out of your room, but it’s too late since you’ve caught sight of him. A demanding screech falls from your mouth and he freezes, locking eyes with you as you pant open-mouthed before you whine, “M-Master, help me~!”
Unwittingly he feels his cock twitch in his uniform pants and his mouth fills with saliva. He can’t smell what could only be a desperately cloying heat scent to catboys, but the sight of his new ‘pet’ shaking her pussy at him was enough to spur him into stalking into the room carefully, slowly but surely peeling off his security uniform and freeing his more than half-hard cock from his underwear. He never tears his eyes from where you sway your ass back and forth on the bed in front of him, whining and calling for Master all the while. 
“‘M so hot, Master, please make it go away!” you moan while looking back at him over your shoulder with tear-filled eyes. Your watery gaze is what really gets him even closer, and when he places his hands on your bare hips he can feel how hot to the touch your skin is; it’s almost alarming, but you’re distracting him by rubbing your bare cunt against his crotch. “Wan’ it in me — fill me up, Master, I’ve been a good girl!”
“Have you?” he growls, gripping you by the hips tightly and yanking you back at the same time he rolls his hips into you, grinding your burning hot pussy against his cock and drawing a lewd meow from your lips. “Been bitchy all week, growling and hissing and swiping at me…”
“Sorry! I’m sorry!” you whine, sniffling. “Please fuck me, Master!” 
Shouta fists his hand around the base of your tail and tugs you up by it, pulling a yowl from you, while taking his cock by the base with his other hand and proceeding to rub it against your sopping wet cunt. His sensitive tip skips across your wanting entrance and rolls across your swollen clit, and he continues rutting his hips against you this way so he can coat his cock with a good amount of your slick before stuffing you full — but you’re impatient, and you want him now. 
“In me!” you demand, hiccuping out a tiny growl between your moaned sobs. “Put it in me!”
His hand, wet with your slick, darts forward at lighting speed and grips you by the chin in a borderline bruising grip as he turns you to face him. “You’ll get what I’ll give you when I give it to you,” he snarls, and a new gush of wetness coats his cock at his tone. 
“You’re s-so mean!” you wail, then shriek as his hand comes down across your bare ass in a brutal spank that leaves it stinging. 
“Don’t be a bad girl, kitty,” he croons mockingly, pressing a kiss to your jaw, and you tremble; the scratch of the stubble on his face got you even wetter. “You want Daddy to fuck you, don’t you?”
You just whimper and mewl, arching your back in what you hope is an obvious invitation, and thankfully Shouta can read desperate whores better than freshly adopted hybrids, because he knows that’s his cue to press inside, which he does. You let out a sharp, drawn out cry as he fills you up all at once, and he lets out a deep groan as your almost unbearably burning hot cunt wraps around him perfectly; he can hardly keep himself from starting to fuck you right away, but he manages to hold off until you start begging for him to move, which only takes a couple seconds. 
“M-Move, move-! Please!” you wail, pushing back against him to bury his cock as deep inside as it would go. “Fuck me!” Shouta doesn’t have to be told twice and immediately sets a brutal, unforgiving pace, his heavy balls slapping against you wetly with each rough thrust. His grip is bruising, and heavy moans escape through his gritted teeth. 
“Fuck, that’s good,” he grunts, releasing one of your hips to press it flat against the wall, stabilizing himself as practically tears you apart. 
“O-Oh! Oh, fuck — f-fuck, Daddy, you’re mixing up my i-insides!” you wail, claws digging into the bedding as you cry out for him. Mid-thrust his hand slips and his entire front plasters itself to your back, the arm that had slipped curling beneath your neck while the other wraps around your middle and he fucks into you like a man possessed. His moans and growls at your ear make your body tingle pleasantly  from your fingers to your toes, and you tremble beneath him as you begin to cry from the stimulation. 
“That’s a good kitty,” Shouta groans as you scratch at the bed in front of you, “Yeah, cry for Daddy—!”
“D-Daddy!” you hiccup through a wail, tears rolling down your cheeks as what of your tail that wasn’t pinned between your bodies lashes back and forth violently. “Bite, bite, bite!” you beg, tilting your head to the side to bare where the soft column of your throat met with your collarbone and shoulder; your jaw presses against his thick bicep, and other than his hands on your body and his cock in your cunt that’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Bite!” 
He doesn’t argue, biting down as he fucks into you and earning himself a high-pitched scream from you that he knows the neighbors heard; all he can do is mentally cross his fingers that they realize the context without being expressly told because he sure as fuck wasn’t going to pull out of your oerfect fucking cunt just to answer a noise complaint notice. 
“P-Please, Daddy!” you gasp, drool rolling down your chin. “Please, cum in me! Breed me! Fill me up, claim me on the inside too!”
Shouta lets out a shaky moan around his mouthful of your collarbone. God, you’re filthy. 
It doesn’t take much more time before you’re yowling again, and he isn’t sure why until he feels your cunt rhythmically spasming around his aching cock. His eyes roll back a little at the feeling, which is all it takes for him to start cumming with you. You can feel a pleasant warmth that you know is him start to fill your lower belly, and you let out another cry as you arch your back more as far as it’ll go while he keeps fucking you through both of your orgasms, all former coherency leaving you both as gibberish moans flm from your lips. It’s only once he stops cummung that he begins to ease to a stop before finally pulling out and rolling over to lay on his back, breathing hard. You immediately begin pressing the cum that was dripping from your cunt back inside, repeating the action a handful of times before licking your fingers clean and kissing him. 
The two of you kiss for a bit before you pull away to lay down for a second to rest between the heat waves, and during this rest he finally speaks again. “How long do — how long do your heats usually last, kitty?” Shouta asks through deep breaths, his heart pounding. You purr and curl up close to him, tail curling back and forth. 
“‘Least a week more,” you answer honestly, and he groans as one of your hands reaches down and starts stroking his cock back to full hardness.  “So hurry up ‘nd fuck me again, Daddy — I can’t cum without you being mean to me.”
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nykie-love-anime · 7 months
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Not A Mathematician
Y/N: Date of birth? Aizawa: November 8th, 1986 Y/N: Age? Aizawa: - staring at you in bewilderment - Aizawa: Can't you figure that out based on my date of birth? Y/N: I'm a hero Shouta, not a mathematician
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animeficsworld · 1 year
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Opposites Attract
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Aizawa Shouta x Reader
The two of you were so different.
Shouta was quiet and reserved while you were loud and outgoing. He hated to go out, you loved it.
He was a teacher while you worked for a big company, going from meeting to meeting while he slept in class.
And although you loved going out, and meeting new people, you loved Shouta more.
He was grumpy from time to time, he was lazy but at the same time, he was your everything.
When he announced that he will need to live with his students, you knew it would affect your life and marriage greatly.
You wanted to go with him, live with him at the school, but he couldn't agree.
Your house was close to your job, and he would never ask you to move out.
So, you stayed, but you started to miss him.
You missed your husband greatly. He wasn't there anymore when you arrived home. He wasn't rolling his eyes when you ordered food instead of letting him cook. He wasn't there to hold you during the nights.
You missed your husband greatly. He wasn't there anymore when you arrived home. He wasn't rolling his eyes when you ordered food instead of letting him cook. He wasn't there to hold you during the nights.
The two of you did meet a couple times and went on a couple dates, where you were able to tell him about your day and he did the same.
But it wasn't the same, you missed him every time you went home and he wasn't there. Even if you called him in the middle of the day, you just missed your husband.
What you ended up doing is that you decided to go to the principals office and ask if you could stay with Shouta in the school.
You were surprised to find out that the principle was actually really happy about your request, and you were allowed to move in within the next few days, now you just had to tell your husband.
But you decided that instead of telling him about it you're just going to surprise him. So after making sure that your home was secure, you left headed to your car and off to the school you went.
You stopped in front of the building which held all of the students from his class, 1-A.
You heard voices coming from inside, kids talking and you smiled before you got your bags and headed for the door.
You knocked on the door and a kind brown-haired girl opened it for you.
She smiled at you.
"Hi, my name is Aizawa Y/N. Is my husband here?" you asked her as she let you inside, you saw all the kids in there, all looking at you. "I asked the Principal, he allowed me to live here with all of you."
"Miss!" a boy ran up to you, you assumed he was Iida, you heard about him before. "It's nice to meet you! My name is Iida Tenya. Let me give you a quick tour."
"Oh, it's okay, I rather meet everyone." you put your bags down and looked around, they all started to walk over to you, introducing themselves and their quirks. They all mentioned how weird it was that their usually stoick and lazy teacher had you as a wife.
You noticed just how exepctional they all were. You were sitting at the table, still talking when the front door opened.
"I hope you all are already in bed." he stopped in his tracks as he saw you sitting at the table surrounded by the kids.
"Hi, Shouta."
"Y/N...what are you doing here?"
"I'm moving in. I asked the Principal who said yes. So, I'm meeting my new roommates."
You could tell he was happy. He didn't show it to his class, but you saw his eyes, you know him.
Soon, you two moved to your new bedroom.
"Oh, you even have a balcony! How nice." you said taking a look out when he came behind you and hugged you, with his head in the crook of your neck.
"I missed you."
"So did I, that's why I decided to move here. I couldn't sleep without you, Shouta."
He was a very affectionate and gentle person, mainly in private, as he liked to keep these kind of things to himself, but you appreciated it none the less.
Little did you know at the time, that it now only began, your life with class 1-A was only about to begin. And all it took was for the to realize just how good of a cook you were.
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smutsandetc · 2 months
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college professor!Shouta Aizawa x nerd!black coded!reader
yall... aizawa has me in such a choke hold.
*reader has a slight stutter and wears glasses
college professor!Shouta Aizawa x nerd!reader , slightly mean Aizawa , slight plot with smut , reader has a sense of fashion , FEMALE anatomy , public setting , sub/dub relationship (?) , humiliation , use of pet names (baby , girl) , LOTS of dirty talk , heavy overstimulation , HUGE size kink , crying (?) , mean / nice-soft Aizawa , After care!! , doggy style , squirting (if you squint) lmk if I missed anything ! Have fun reading<3
The class around you was pin-drop silent. Everyone was working on their own things, their work from this class or work from another class. but you?
You were clenching your thighs while staring at the tall, dark haired man. The way he gripped the pen that seemed to be too small for his veiny hands. The way his hair is now pulled back into a lazy bun at the base of his head, leaving only a few strands to shape his masculine face. His tired eyes scanned over the paper resting in front of him, on his dark wooden desk, seemingly to be memorizing it. Everything he did just turned you on.
You turned your head to look at the computer on the desk in front of you and your hand came up to mess with your brown braids, how are you going to get through his class.. especially when he looks like that?
Youre biting your glossed, plump lips even harder when you think about what he could do to you. How he would do you. Would he bend you over? Would he let you ride him or maybe suck him from under his desk? Your thoughts wander and so does your eyes. As you look up from you computer, you make eye contact with him. His tired eyes staring straight into your soul.
He makes you jolt in your seat and quickly look another way while adjusting your thick rimmed glasses. You gulp down a bit of spit and you clench your thighs together harder.
No way.
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At the end of your last class on a friday evening, Aizawa is passing out papers from earlier in the week. A few of the guys around you snicker and push each other around. The girls squeal and whisper about the handsome teacher, "Did you see the way he looked at me?" one of the girls said with a giggle.
"Hes so hot!" another said.
"The things I want to do to him-" one girl said before she was interrupted.
"Ladies, please." Aizawa said quietly as he past by them. He let out a great sigh, only confirming that he is sleep deprived or even stressed. Your breath hitches when he stops right next to you. The baby tee made your boobs push up a bit, making your cleavage more predominant. You reach up to push your glasses up a bit, while looking up, making eye contact with Aizawa.
"Please, see me after class." His rich deep voice sounds through out the now quiet room. His words catch you off guard, a- after class?
You immediately look don at the white sheet of paper and choke down a sob. At the corner of the paper, its marked with a fat, F, with a small frowny face. The breathe gets caught in your throat and it seems like your eyes has dried out. Youve never failed anything, anything!
W- what did I do wrong? How did I fail? I studied forever, I triple checked the problems and I used multiple flashcards! I studied, studied, and studied-
The ranting in your head gets cut off when he moves away from your desk and onto the person next to you. For the next thirty minutes of class seems to go by in slow motion. Youre stuck in your head, wondering how you failed this test. Youre the best at tests, the best under pressure. Youre at the top of the class, in the top 3 in the whole college and fucking top 10 in the state. What went wrong?
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The door was shut tightly when the last person walked out the classroom. The air around you seems tense and unsure. Your hands shake slightly when you see him sit back down at his desk, his bulging thighs flexing with every movement. His thick hands make the desk in general, look small.
You go to stand in front of his desk, "S- sir, I dont understand what I did wrong. I studied and studied for this test and I took extra time to make sure everything I got was right-"
"This is not about the test." He cuts you off with a roll of his eyes. He stares at you with his tied eyes, "Ive seen the way you looked at me," he said through clenched teeth.
His words makes you freeze in confusion and guilt. "Wha- what do you mean, sir?" you say in a small, timid voice, "I dont understand-"
"Whats there to be confused about?" He says as he stands up and makes his way toward the front of his desk, leaning against it. "You look like you want to eat me alive." He states.
The look across your face gives away any lie you try and hide. You shift from one foot to another. The mini skirt your wearing rides up a bit. "But sir-"
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"No- no more!" You squeal out loudly. The two thick fingers in you feel like a cock itself. The way your legs seem to tremble with every breath you take, the grip you have on the edge of the desk makes it seem like youve been here forever.
Aizawa stands tall behind you as your bent over his dark desk, your plump breasts giggle with every thrust and ass bouncing as you jerk against the desk. Aizawa has his sleeves roll up to his elbows as his hand and wrist are soaked with your fluids. "Just a little more, baby..." He mumbled under his breath as he stared into your body.
"I- I just want you..!" You gasped out as the coil inside snapped like a small, tight rubber band. Your thighs tremble as a loud whine ripped its way from your tight throat. Your manicured hands tighten around the edge of the desk and drool drops onto the darkend desk, dirting the paper reports.
"Would you look at that.." He breathed out with a small smirk on his lips as he watched you try and bring yourself back from the small euphoria you experienced. "Are you ready, baby? Can you handle me? Take all of me in this pretty cunt you have?" He said. He seemed to be ranting as he took off his belt and pulled off his pants and underwear. "You look gorgeous like this.. all ruined, just for me. You want me? You want me bad, baby?" He pulled his length from his underwear and stroked himself a bit, the tip was leaking precome like a faucet, making his hand wet.
The embarrassment made you heat up. His words, his dirty words made you want to dig a whole and lie in it. Your hands became even more sweaty and your breaths became deeper and harder. Is this really happening? Hes my crush!... My professor! What if someone comes in and sees us?! What is someone finds out?! What if-
Your thoughts come to an abrupt end once you feel him nudge your labia and start to press into your sticky, warm core. A surprised gasp came from your lips and you bit your tongue.
"Let me in, girl." He snaps at you, "Relax, now."
As the tip of his length begins to enter you, a loud whine exits your throat and a quick hand from the man behind you presses into your lips, silencing you. The thick rod finally breaches you and continues to press into you. The pure length and the pure thickness of his length knocks the breath out of you. "Mmmfp!!" The whine coming from you sounds purely painful.
Aizawa keeps pushing until hes rested upon your cervix, completely pass your g-spot. As he lets you get used to his big ass dick, he leans his head back, as he takes a deep breath. He takes one of the hands from your mouth and he rubs it on the small of your back. "Fuckkk, baby.." He groans out in pleasure, "Loosen up, Im right here.. Youre going to break me off, please." He says in his deep voice. His other hand, the one not on your back, goes to his mouth to gather saliva in his mouth and goes down to rub small circles on your clit, making you jump in place.
He puts pressure on that hand, on your back to get you to arch more into him, "Are you okay, baby?" He asks as he leans over you and puts his stubble riddled chin on your shoulder. With a small nod from you, he leans back up and with a sigh, he drags his hips out until his tip is just barely in there and thrusts back in. Hard.
Your toes curls in on themselves and your head falls onto the desk with a small thud. A sob rips from your throat as he pulls out again and ruts back into you. With every trust, with every swirl of his finger, with every grunt from his slightly bitten and dry lips, pushes and pushes you to the edge. "Youre so good for me, girl. Youre just made for me... This cunt is made for me. So tight, so warm, so wett.. Fuckk.." He groans out in your ear as he bends over you, his chest against your back, his pelvis pressed against your plump, dark ass as you spray your fluids all over him and his legs. He releases into your warm cunt as it spasms around him.
He takes a deep breath and he puts both his arms on either side of you on the desk and thrusts his hips into you one last time. "Ah!" You squeal out as he picks you up from behind after he pulled out and sets you on his lap. Your head lolls to his shoulder as you catch your breath.
Whimpers and whines still escape your throat as his warm, bigger hands wipe your body fluids away with a soft cloth and gently puts on your underwear and small skirt which was hanging slightly off your ankle. He then picks you up again and sets you on his desk, facing him. Your thighs are slightly quivering with every breath, his hands come from under his desk to your face as he cups your cheek. "Are you okay, baby?" He asks under his breath as he searches in your eyes for.. something.
You nod, biting your lip as you look up into his dark eyes, "Yes, professor. Im okay... That was really good." You nod as you keep eye contact with him.
"Good. Now-" He begins and taps you thigh to signal to get off his desk, "-off you go. We both have things to do." He says as he adjusts his neck tie and the belt of his pants while you pull down your baby tee and your tights. As you takes a seat at his desk, you take your bag and begin you make your way to the door, with wobbly legs. "Good bye sir, see you tomorrow-" You begin but stop as he gets your attention again,
"Wait- Dont forget your test." He reminds you sharply as he gestured to the end of his desk where your paper laid, untouched from your activities earlier. You walk back to grab the paper and you made eye-contact with him. His eyes giving off a playful look but the rest of his face was his usual nonchalance. "Have a good day, Ms. Y/N." He said and he looked back down at his computer. You made your way from his classroom and into the halls where the rest of the world was oblivious to the both of your actions.
As you look down at the paper, the big red letters in the top left corner of the paper read,
100% Good job.
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