#shouta aizawa x reader hard time trusting

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Yandere! Shouta Aizawa NSFW Profile

Yandere! Shouta Aizawa x fem! reader

Tw: mentions of dub-con, masturbation, stalking, kidnapping, voyeurism, toys, clothed sex, hair-pulling, this one is actually kind of soft and feels less yandere-y to me so sorry that this one is a little less creepy than normal, Shouta is a pleaser and lives for your praise, he gets off with a blanket you gifted him, very mild somnophilia, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 12K

HABITS

In general, Shouta isn’t that perpetually horny. He’s a busy man with constant stress weighing on his shoulders; working as a pro while being a full-time teacher leaves him drained during the few times he gets to relax, and it’s a lot of work to get himself hard, to get off, and to clean up afterwards.

It’s just not worth it to him – especially because it’s a bit sad to be left with just his fist and some low-grade, unrealistic porn as a man in his thirties, isn’t it?

He doesn’t have a partner, and hasn’t had one for quite some time – there was a girl a decade or so ago, but she didn’t last long, and the sex was subpar at best. And so, Shouta finds himself neglecting any sort of sexual activity most nights that he’s off work, not bothering to get himself all worked up and fuck away some of that pent up stress.

Except, then you show up.

His feelings for you form, and although it takes a long time for them to solidify, it takes an even longer time for them to turn lewd, any sort of sexual thought involving you not really taking root into he’s much further into his obsession.

This is for a few reasons – firstly, he just doesn’t have that high of a libido, and while seeing you naked when he’s watching from outside your window certainly gets him hot and bothered, he isn’t constantly fantasizing about bending you over and fucking you until you’re screaming his name.

(Not never, just not constantly – and at inopportune moments, sometimes. Moments where he really should be focused on the mountains of paperwork on his desk, not focused on how the desk is the perfect height for you to be standing on your tiptoes, ass poised out and your chest pressed against the hard wooden lacquer, your soft skin glistening in the dim light and your pretty thighs twitching and quivering as his fingers press deeper and deeper and deeper -)

Secondly, Shouta’s already feeling such crippling guilt regarding his infatuation with you that adding on overt sexual fantasies for you would push him too far. He already hates that he thinks of you constantly, that he’s always idly worrying about your safety, wanting to know your location and who you’re with and what you’re doing.

He already dislikes that he can’t stop himself from swinging by your apartment at the end of his patrols, making sure that you’re in your bed asleep, safe and sound and looking so fucking pretty in the moonlight. He doesn’t like how wrapped around your finger you have him, so how could he justify wringing himself dry to you, depraved fantasies running through his mind as he imagines the way you’d cream on his fingers, how you’d clench down on him so, so tightly when he fucks you just right?

Shouta can’t – it would breach too many protocols of trust, the friendship formed between the two of you precarious enough as it is with Shouta’s obsessive, disturbing feelings. He doesn’t think of you sexually, banishing every thought from his mind the moment it appears.

Or, at least, that’s what he wishes could be true – unfortunately, his hormones get the better of him sometimes, leaving him rolling around in his bed, cock painfully hard and his mind insistently flashing images of you changing behind his eyelids.

He’s embarrassed, more than anything, that he doesn’t have enough self control to successfully halt any lewd thoughts of you – it’s pathetic, really, because is he so desperate to touch you that he literally can’t stop himself?

Is he really so painfully, pitifully aroused by you that just the mere idea of you licking your lips or smiling at him can get him breathing hard, thankful for the bagginess of his pants?

He hates that the answer is yes, that his body is really that pent up and eager to get you under him, naked and soft and pretty, all for him and only him. It’s demoralizing, but Shouta only has so much restraint – he tries to hold out for as long as he can, really. He swears.

It’s torture at first, popping melatonin and chugging Nyquil, hoping he’ll be able to pass out and sleep off the horniness, but it never quite works. Instead, his dreams are full of you – on your knees, sucking him off so well that your cheeks are literally hollowing, drool spilling down your chin, a string of saliva and precum connecting your puffy lips to his swollen tip when you pull off for air.

He’ll dream of you on your hands and knees, peeking back at him with glassy eyes and biting your lip, clearly embarrassed as you ask him to touch me, please Shouta, I need you…

He always wakes up with soiled sheets, his entire pelvis sticky with now cold cum, and it becomes very, very difficult to look you in the eye that day, only able to conjure up the image of you all tied up in his scarf, your breasts perfectly framed and your thighs spread, slick covering them as you whine his name, desperate for him.

And though he tries to stave off, not letting himself actively fantasize about you sexually while he’s conscious, a particularly rough day of teaching and patrol have him giving up, throwing caution to the wind as he decides that he needs this, that a release is the only way he’ll be able to stay sane.

In the past, the few times he’s masturbated he’s always just fucked his fist, not needing anything too fancy. But for you, something about that feels disrespectful – it’s stupid and he knows it, but the idea of just thrusting into his hand over and over until he eventually spills all over his knuckles seems tacky, low-class, almost offensive to your image, like he’s tarnishing you and the way he idolizes you.

So, he relies on the next best thing he can scrounge up – you’d given him a blanket a few months ago, a birthday present that he’d tried desperately to cover his blush at receiving.

(Hizashi had pitched in, helping you decide which color and texture, having an expert’s opinion so that it would be perfect for the dark-haired man – a level of detail and attention to his desires that still, to this day, makes his heart flutter to think about. You cared, wanting him to be happy, and just that thought leaves his chest swelling with pride, his palms getting a bit clammy and his cheeks feeling too hot.)

He’s kept the blanket on his bed, using it every single night for the limited sleep he manages to get, making sure the material is always, always touching his body. It’s the only way he really feels close to you – the blanket was for him, sure, but you’d touched it, picked it out, held it in your arms while Shouta was dumbly gaping at you and struggling to utter out a strained thank you.

(If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can even smell you on the fabric – it’s not as good as if you were actually here with him, laying in his arms, touching him, but if he strains enough and pretends hard enough, there’s the faintest whiff of you.)

He’s gulping, throwing his uniform off and leaving it crumped up in the corner, before gently, daintily grabbing the edges of the neatly folded blanket (a stark contrast to the harsh pulling and tugging at his costume he’d thrown off moments earlier) and laying it out on the bed.

He lets out a shaky breath, gulping, before tying his hair back into a messy, low ponytail, excitement flitting through him because he’s really about to do it. He’s really about to touch himself to the thought of you, allowing himself to fully indulge in the fantasy that is you, the fantasy that is imagining the way you’d feel against his body, your lips against his own, your hands in his hair and your thighs around his waist.

He’s moving slow as he settles onto his knees on the bed, staring down at the blanket with furrowed brows. This isn’t quite right – the image of you laying before him, body nude and your legs clenched together in anticipation feels very, very right, but there’s something missing.

A thumb comes down to idly rub at the blanket, tracing small circles against the material as he wracks his brain. What’s missing? How can he make this feel like you, like it’s your body he’s touching, like it’s your perfect little cunt he’s fucking?

He’s not sure, but suddenly it hits him – your body, just as he’d been dreaming about.

The blanket doesn’t look enough like you – it’s two dimensional, flat and having no surface area to grip onto, nothing for him to fondle and touch and squeeze.

It needs to have more of your shape – quickly, methodically, he’s reaching down, grabbing handfuls of the blanket and bunching it up, forming a shape that vaguely resembles your torso. He’s careful to get the exact shape of your waist and hips, making sure to leave mounds of crumpled blanket to represent your breasts, even creating a little space between your thighs that represents something soft, something warm and wet and tight – your precious little pussy, something Shouta would literally kill to feel.

He gulps as he looks down at his work, the atmosphere suddenly seeming much thicker, heavier, hotter, because now, the solid colored blanket seems like you, at least having your body shape and your vague proportions. Aizawa lets his hand run down what would be your side, pausing right over your pretend hip.

Fuck, he mutters under his breath, before shifting forward slightly, letting his weight rest on his knees and one hand as he carefully guides his cock to the space between your crafted thighs.

He’d been careful to leave a fold in the fabric, a pouch of sorts – a place for him to push into, slowly spreading the two layers, trying to mimic the way your pretty lips would part for him, your walls sucking him and clenching him nice and tight, wanting to keep him inside and never let him pull out.

Shouta curses as he rubs his tip against the fabric, noting with a small, far-away sense of disdain that there’s precum smearing all along the fabric, certainly leaving a stain that he’ll have to scrub out later. His thumb comes up to gently swipe along where he imagines your cheek to be, even feeling phantom sensations of warmth, of softness, just as you’d be.

He leans down slowly, throat bobbing, before letting his eyes flutter closed, his lips pressing against the blanket – right where he imagines your own to be. The kiss is soft, gentle, heartfelt, his tongue flicking out to lick against the blanket material, groaning and wishing it was your own tongue meeting his, your own spit coating his lips.

As he gets closer, body inching further down until his chest pressed up against what’s supposed to be your breasts, he shuffles his hips forward, pushing past the fabric fold and into you. He groans, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against where he imagines yours to be, letting his eyes shut tight, nearly squeezing them closed as he slowly rocks his hips.

The friction of the blanket feels a bit strange, not how you’d feel, but it’s better than nothing – and it’s so, so very easy to imagine you instead; your warm, slick walls, the way you’d squeeze at him when he brushes up against your spot, the way your legs would wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles and pulling him in closer, begging him to go deeper. He sighs out, biting his lip and furrowing his brow, the pleasure slowly beginning to mount.

He imagines the way you’d moan his name – he bets you’d be airy, a soft sound that gets his hips stuttering ever so slightly because he knows the way his name would sound spilling from your lips would be heaven, the sultry Shouta upturned at the end as he fucks into you just the slightest bit faster.

His hips pick up their pace at the thought of you crying his name, back muscles flexing as he slowly gets faster and faster, the slow, sweet, intimate pace he’d set blown to dust in the wake of his thighs propelling him forward, hips flying and smacking into the blanket so quickly and harshly that the mattress is shaking, bedframe slightly pounding against the wall.

Shouta groans, low and deep, imagining the way you’d beg him to go faster Shouta please, please please please you feel s’good, wanna come for you! Memories of seeing you touch yourself flash behind his closed eyes, seeing the way your face screwed up in pleasure, how you gripped at your pillows and bucked your hips and trembled and arched your back and gasped and came –

Shouta’s chanting your name, his hips sinking into the fold of the blanket over and over, and quickly he’s bringing a thumb down to rub frantic, uneven circles where he imagines your clit to be, desperate to get you coming, wanting to time your orgasm with his.

Fuck, come for me baby, give it to me, god you’re s’damn tight fuuuck - !

His eyes fly open as spurts of warm, milky cum spray from his tip, getting all over the blanket and making his hips stutter and jerk, the sensation of coming in something leaving his arms feeling weak.

He’s panting, still saying your name under his breath, dark hair falling around his face as his thighs flex and clench, the last bits of cum dribbling from his tip and leaving him feeling spent. He can’t help but imagine the way you’d take him, if you’d thank him for giving him everything he has to offer, if you’d hold onto him until you both caught your breath, if your walls would still flutter and clench sporadically even after you’d come down from your high.

He closes his eyes again, heart practically in his throat as he leans down once more to kiss the blanket, tongue sneaking out and wet noises filling the room as spit and drool get slobbered all over the fabric.

He’s still out of breath, panting when he pulls back, but it’s not until he leans back onto his knees and takes a good look at the blanket that his high begins to fade, the reminder that you’re not really there making a sharp feeling dig into his gut.

He stares for a moment, before sighing, slowly pulling out of the blanket and grimacing when he feels cooling cum sliding across his cock, the white mess all over the material and smeared across his skin.

He brings a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes and sighing. What was he doing?

He’d just fucked a blanket – a gift, from you no less – while pretending it was you, his desperation to get you naked and in his grasp strong enough to make him lose him mind.

Pathetic, he was truly pathetic.

He’s ashamed as he throws the blanket into the laundry, hoping the cum stains will come out with all the bleach he’d thrown in alongside it, and as he chugs his coffee, deciding to get to school early and try to collect himself, Shouta can only sigh.

You make him such a fucking fool – a freak, perverted and creepy and gross, and as soon as he catches sight of you in the staff loungeroom, looking all pretty in your simple blouse and slacks, he knows he’s a lost cause, every bit of self-respect falling by the wayside.

 Because as soon as he looks at you, all he can think of is how you’d look underneath him, stuffed full of his cum and a dazed, fucked-out expression scrawled across your face. All he can think of is how you’d be absolutely perfect to sink his cock into – and as he darts off to the nearest restroom, desperately trying to get rid of the insistent, raging erection in his pants, he can only sigh, letting his head hang.

He really is a fucking creep.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS

Your thighs

Shouta isn’t one to sexualize women’s bodies. He’s a man with urges, sure, but he’s never had trouble separating sexual attraction from respect for his female friends, even for strangers in the streets. A body is a body, and they aren’t made to be stared at and ogled.

Except where you’re concerned, of course, because while Shouta tries his hardest to not sexualize every thought of you, it’s difficult to hold himself back when he’s so utterly attracted to every single part of you.

It’s hard to not fixate and stare and want when he looks at you, and so while he gives a valiant effort to not obsess over your figure in a less than innocent way, eventually he can’t help himself.

And Shouta discovers that while he loves every inch of you, there’s something about your thighs that drive him absolutely fucking crazy.

Maybe it’s their shape – pretty expanses of your skin that look perfect to grope and squeeze, the soft curves making him salivate in a way that feels almost predatory.

Maybe it’s the way they feel – your skin is so soft, especially if he moves his hands further up, between them, nearing somewhere warm and wet and throbbing.

Maybe it’s the way they feel when they’re around his waist, caging him in and keeping him right where he wants to be, and when they’re around his head?

(Don’t mention the instances where he’s orgasmed just from simply eating you out – it’s embarrassing, and while he won’t deny it, he will change the conversation and pray you don’t see the soft, barely-there pink blooming on his cheeks.)

Maybe it’s even the way you respond when he touches them – how you jump a little bit, his calloused hands feeling a bit cold as they skim along the sides, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs, a comforting finger brushing along the juncture of your legs and pelvic bone.

He’s not entirely sure, but one thing he does know is that just seeing your bare thighs is enough to get him gulping, his dark gaze struggling to move away as he watches the area jiggle and flex while you walk, every step you take only making him want you more and more.

Even before he’s stolen you away, he’s fantasizing about your thighs – he’s bought more pairs of stockings and thigh-highs than he’d care to admit, keeping them neatly organized in a specific drawer in his closet, often fingering the material and biting his lip.

(The image of you wearing them makes him drool, the idea of the top hem squeezing your thigh and making a little bulge appear right above the socks getting his hand wandering down his torso, his fingers making quick word of his belt buckle because fuuuck, would you keep them on while he throws your legs over his shoulders and absolutely destroys you?)

He’s always taking extra time and care to properly worship them when he’s got his head between your legs, letting his lips and tongue trail all along the soft skin, leaving teasing bite marks and hickeys and feeling the way you tremble under his touch because he’s so close yet so far from where you need him.

He’s always got a hand on your thighs when he’s fucking you, his fingers clutching and digging into the skin while he shuts his eyes tight and wills himself to last longer, to prolong the moment, to give you more more more, just like you deserve.

He just really, really likes your thighs, so don’t be surprised when he’s got his hand casually placed on one when you’re watching a movie together, his gaze purposefully not looking at you because you can’t see how flustered he is from touching your clothed thigh in a non-sexual context.

You can’t.

His hands

In general, Shouta lives to please you in bed. He’s by no means submissive (though he could be persuaded if you really, really wanted to be in charge for a night), but he’s a caring partner in every possible sense of the word – sex is about you, and any pleasure he gets from it is just a fun bonus.

And because of this, he takes every opportunity to learn new ways to please you, trying everything from teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, buying a collection of vibrators, even letting you grind against the expanse of his thigh.

But his favorite method by far is using his fingers on you. They’re thick, with scars and callouses dotting the rough skin, but they’re so gentle with you, always touching you like you’re something fragile and delicate and breakable. He's careful with you when he’s rubbing circles over your clit, the pressure consistent enough to feel good but not too hard, sometimes even teasing you. He’s gentle when he’s running his fingertips over your folds, occasionally dipping in just a hair to feel the warm wetness he wants so very badly to sink into.

(He often sucks in a short, nearly inaudible gasp when he does this, his Adam’s apple bobbing because god you’re wet, and he’ll pull back to lick off his fingers, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tastes you.)

He particularly enjoys fingering you – he’s dexterous, and he always goes slow and purposefully, learning quickly exactly where you like to be touched. He’ll angle the pads of his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl, his lip caught between his teeth as he watches your face twist up, hearing your pretty sighs and moans, feeling the way you clench around him, your hips twitching a bit as if to get him deeper, to get more of him. He keeps his pace sensual, the come-hither motion slow and controlled, all the while keeping his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, drawing shapes that stay just consistent enough to get you closer and closer.

All the while, the other hand is gently working at your clit, his fingers expertly getting the exact pressure and pattern you like, making your thighs twitch and your little gasps and mewls louder and more insistent.

And when he’s not actively working between your legs, Shouta’s always got his fingers pleasuring you in other ways – gently kneading at your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between a thumb and index finger, groping and squeezing at you like a man starved as his tongue flicks and sucks at your clit.

They’re grasping a handful of your thigh and squeezing reassuringly as he’s fucking you, his pace slow and deep, making sure you feel every possible inch of him as he folds you in half.

He’s even slipping a thumb against your tongue when you take a break to breath, your chest heaving and your fingers wrapped around his girth, a groan slipping from his lips because god, the sight of his precum dribbling down your chin is enough to get his cock twitching on its own. He’ll press down on your tongue, his lip caught between his teeth as you stare up at him, the sight indescribably erotic, a few praises falling from his mouth about how good you look, how pretty you are, how well you take care of him.

(All the while, he’s feeling you suck on his thumb, eagerly running your tongue along the skin and even swallowing around it to give the extra suction. Shouta curses under his breath, and suddenly stands, grabbing you by the hips and forcing you to bend over the chair he’d previously been sitting on, roughly spreading your legs and immediately diving in to lick and suck against your clit, a finger slipping inside of you because he just can’t not touch you after watching you drool all over him.)

He just likes to make you feel good, and while he enjoys pleasuring you with his mouth, nothing can beat the way you moan and shake when he’s working his fingers on you, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re incoherent, your poor body trembling, the only thing you can think of him him him.

DRIVE

Though you inspire more sexual desire and drive within him than he’s experienced for the last twenty years, Shouta is still not absolutely desperate to fuck you at all times.

Sure, the idea is nice – being intimate with you is something he craves, but nine times out of ten this intimacy takes the form of simply holding you. Sitting beside you with your head resting on his shoulder, a blanket covering the both of your bodies as you snore softly and cling to him in your sleep, showing that you feel safe with him, that you trust him to protect you.

(Shouta is normally able to keep his staring in check and not be too terribly overt with it, but in times like these he allows himself to openly gape at you, those dark eyes of his examining every detail of your face. Every small wrinkle, every hair and mole, even every lash and baby hair that frames your cheeks. You’re just too damn pretty, and like this he can commit every last detail to memory – as if he hadn’t already, as if he doesn’t sleep at night with your face dancing through his dreams, as if he sees flashes of you in everything he does. As if he isn’t thinking of you as unconsciously as he breaths.)

He generally imagines sleeping with you (and genuinely just sleeping – curling up with you in his arms and his face buried next to your neck, the scent of your body and shampoo filling his senses and making him breathe out something that walks the fine line between a sigh and a moan), the peacefulness and tranquility of just having you close to him in the safety of his protection and home.

It’s a type of intimacy that gets Shouta red in the face, the idea so domestic and taboo and foreign that he comes to crave this on a near constant basis, serving as motivation and a way to calm himself when his students are out of control or a villain is being particularly difficult.

But of course, Shouta is only a man, and men have needs – no matter how he tries to keep his obsession with you as innocent as it possibly can be, sexual thoughts trickle in through the cracks of his mental fortitude and leave him with a phantom wonder of how you’d taste – would you be sweet, like the jellies Hizashi had gotten him? Would you be rich and savory? He hopes you’d have a strong musk to you, a smell that he can breathe in and think of you, something that gets his salivating and his body growing hot and his fingers restless and his breath heavy and labored and god –

He’s hard before he knows it, immediately covering his face with his hands because it’s equal parts embarrassing and terrifying how easily you manage to affect him, just the simple thought of you getting his entire body on edge.

And so he eventually takes up masturbation with you in mind, feeling dirty and disgusting each time he recovers from his orgasmic high, making it more and more difficult to look you in the eye without thinking of all the depraved things he’d imagined doing with you mere hours before.

But Shouta thinks he can survive – sure, he wants to fuck you, needs to kiss you, has to see the face you make when you’re coming, but he can control himself. He won’t succumb to the urge to break into your (frustratingly poorly protected) apartment to run his fingers along your pretty skin and fuck his fist mere inches from your face, no matter how badly his body yells and begs him to. He won’t cross this boundary – it’s hypocritical to think of himself not as a pervert at this point, but it’s the only way he confidently resists you.

Except, then you go and force him into kidnapping you – and now you’re with him nearly all moments of the day, your scent in his bedroom (though he knows you never willingly enter there, and he doesn’t force you to), your body always just a heartbeat away, the idea of holding you and kissing much, much closer now.

And even with the constant temptation, Shouta manages to hold out – it’s torture, really, forcing himself to be a good man and giving you privacy, to not touch you, to not press himself against you and feel the contours of your body against his own, but it’s worth it to him. He can’t force anything – he doesn’t want to scare you, and he has this horrible, sneaking suspicion that if he propositioned you, you’d feel too afraid to say no.

And just the thought is enough motivation to keep him from touching you, to keep him celibate from you purely by his choice – even if it starts affecting him physically.

(He’d never, ever admit it to you, but his lust for you becomes so extreme that if he’s gone more than a week or so without having touched himself to the thought of you while you’re under his care, his cock starts physically hurting when he sees you, his hips involuntarily twitching when he hears your voice, his throat feeling dry and his cheeks blooming bright red because god, he’s never wanted to fuck something so bad.)

And so, Shouta forces himself to be an outstanding man – but no one can be alert every moment of every day, and it’s only a matter of time before you catch him in a moment of weakness. Because really, while Shouta was suffering, you were certainly undergoing a struggle of your own – you’ve been stuck with him for a few months at this point, trapped in his modest apartment with everything you could ever need with one glaring, important exception: human touch.

You don’t necessarily want to be physical with your kidnapper, but as the days pass and you slowly come to accept the fact that you won’t be escaping Eraserhead, things start changing. You’re still understandably frightened of him, worried that although he’s not harmed you in any way and hasn’t forced you into much aside from your captivity, he’ll show his true colors and make your life even more of a living hell.

But that doesn’t happen, Shouta staying that familiar presence you’ve become accustomed to; steady, quiet, consistent. Except the more days that pass, the more you start noticing other things about him – he’s strong, isn’t he? You see it when he walks from the bathroom to his bedroom with the towel tightly fastened at his waist, showing off the lean muscle of his arms and torso.

(He can feel your eyes sometimes, but tries not to dwell on what your staring at his naked chest could mean because getting his hopes up means getting them inevitably crushed.)

He’s awfully attentive, isn’t he? He listens when you speak, those dark eyes boring into you and your every wish – aside from escape – granted without so much as a complaint.

And sometimes, he’s a little attractive, isn’t he? In a rugged, man-ish way – a way that makes you gulp and press your thighs together a bit, because something about the stubble that coats his chin and the veins that litter his hands and forearms makes it difficult to breath correctly.

And then the daydreams start – little thoughts about how it would feel for those hands to touch you, for those lips to brush against your own, for his hair to tickle your neck as he hovers over you, his hips moving slowly and rhythmically against you, gruff grunts of your name filling the air between you.

They scare you at first, really, but soon you can’t stop yourself – you know it’s the lack of human contact that’s influencing you, but as time passes and you grow more desperate to know if he’s as attentive in bed as he is everywhere else, you’ll stop caring.

And Shouta can sense that something’s changing – he feels you watching him, notices the way your eyes follow him through a room, how you suck in the sharpest, smallest breath when he nears you, how you grow stiff when he has to flex a muscle in front of you to lift something heavy. Shouta knows that something is different – but it’s not until you grow brave one day that everything is confirmed.

It’d been a long, tiresome day for Shouta – his class had been especially rowdy today, with a simulation villain attack that the teachers participated in, and of course he’d ended up assigned to spar with Todoroki – meaning he’d been moving about, his muscles tired and sore from multiple hours of repetitive fighting. Then he’d had an extra patrol directly after, the villains particularly restless and causing more trouble than normal. Coupled with a nasty rainstorm that had him half freezing to death, Shouta wanted nothing more than to melt into bed, ideally with you beside him but knowing better than to wish for foolish things.

And when he’d stepped in the front door, you’d been waiting for him, sitting nervously on the couch. You’d stood up, but Shouta – despite feeling slightly more awake and alive at the sight of you, like normal – was still exhausted, already on the brink of unconsciousness as he gruffly greeted you. You looked nervous, twiddling your thumbs and biting your lip, but Shouta was too tired to properly ask about it, only mentally noting to check on you tomorrow.

Slumping towards his bedroom, he was abruptly stopped with you grabbed his hand, his entire body going rigid. Your voice was quiet when you asked him why he always seems to avoid touching you, asking if he didn’t want to, if he was repulsed by the idea of touching, if he was repulsed by you.

And Shouta, still half delirious with exhaustion, let the truth slip from his lips before he could help himself – explaining just how badly he craves to feel you, imagining you in every lewd position he can think of, noticing the way your pajama shirts sometimes grow tight when you sleep and roll over, exposing the outline of your breast and nipple and making him physically stop in his tracks and nearly drool like some horny teenager.

Every secret was spilling out of him, his voice still tired and coarse but making your jaw drop, the admission that he’s been fantasizing about making you a mess on his fingers and tongue and cock stunning you. You’d known Shouta harbored some sort of feelings for you, but this?

When he finishes detailing the fact that he regularly fucks his fist to the thought of you at least twice a week after you’ve fallen asleep, you release his hand, immediately missing the warmth of his skin.

Shouta rubs at his eyes, still not facing you, but muttering a small goodnight and retreating to his room, only realizing what’s happened the next morning. His hands shake and he bolts from his bed, his eyes wide and his heart racing, something horrible and feeling like shame and dread sitting in his chest because why the fuck had he told you that?

Facing you the next day has anxiety sitting in his every nerve, his actions jerky and on-edge, an he’d nearly bolted back to the safety of his room when he sawy you sitting at the kitchen table, but then you’d done something unexpected – you’d walked up to him, stood in silence for a moment, then grabbed his hand. Shouta had been confused, unable to ignore the way your hand fit into his own and the softness of your skin against his, but you’d not given him a chance to even ask questions – soon your lips were on his, and your hand had placed his on something warm and soft and squishy –

Shouta gasped against your lips, the feeling of your breast in his hand and your tongue swiping at his lips nearly making his knees buckle. He didn’t respond to your kiss for a few moments, forcing you to pull back and stare at him, something like worry and rejection reflected in your eyes, but it’s not until you whisper in a very small voice that he snaps out of his stupor.

I want you Shouta, and I know you want me.

You were in his bed moments later, his hands frantic and eager and shaking as he practically ripped off your borrowed pajamas, fingers moving fast and settling over every part of your body, seemingly unable to decide on where to stay.

It was rushed, desperation clouding both of your senses, but as Shouta threw your leg over his shoulder and pressed wet kisses against the juncture of your shoulder and neck, his whispered affirmations of his love for you only had you pulling him closer, adoration and shock and something so happy it nearly hurt filling his chest.

Perhaps, just perhaps, something in you loved him as he loved you.  

MAIN THREE KINKS

Clothed Sex

It’s about convenience for Shouta – he’s not lazy in the bedroom, but although he finds you irresistible and is normally willing to expend what very little energy he has on sex with you, he’s willing to take any shortcut he can.

Of course, sex with you in an ideal world sees the both of you completely nude, your bodies pressed as close together as physically possible so that not a breath of space lays between them. He likes being close to you, feeling every inch of you, the intimacy of it unmatched and making Shouta revel in the fact that you’re really there with him, that he’s really getting to touch you, that he’s really getting to kiss you and touch you and fuck you, just as he’s been fantasizing of for months.

But that said, there’s a strange allure to clothed sex – it’s taboo and a little dirty, something that makes him feel a little warm, his palms growing a bit sweaty because it could happen at any time. Whenever the mood strikes him or strikes you, he could simply unzip his pants, shuffle them down a bit and fish out his cock, and he'd be ready to go – already half-hard, the eager anticipation of your touch exciting him from nearly the moment you entered the room.

And it’s easy access to you, too – not that he’d ever take advantage of that fact, your consent still something he asks for every time he touches you. It’s easy to slip your panties to the side, sinking you down onto his lap as he groans and his head lolls back, the feeling of your warmth making his toes curl. He just likes how easy it all is – no time is wasted with struggling to get off your shirt or his pants, and the desperation to be inside you that always seems to overwhelm him at the most inconvenient of times can be attended to that much faster.

He just thinks there’s something so hot about it – he’ll specifically stock you with clothing to wear that makes this easy – flouncy skirts and shorts that make shoving everything to the side and bunching his fist into the cloth to get better leverage while he pounds into you.

He’ll get you tank tops and things that make fishing your breasts out of your top easy, so that they can freely hang and jiggle as he bounces you up and down on his lap, your nipples hardening and shivers racing down your spine as he flicks his tongue at one.

He’ll buy underwear that doesn’t chafe when he shoves it to the side, the pretty sight of lace against your skin making him feral, making him fuck into you harder and more frantically because you almost look like some sort of lewd present when you’re wearing that lingerie – like his very own present, the one thing in the world he wants more than anything else.

And he’ll wear clothing that makes this easy, too – pants that can be unzipped and boxers he can tuck underneath his balls, making sure that nothing gets in the way. And although having sex without clothes is much more common than with clothes, Shouta will surprise you and suddenly press up behind you in the kitchen, telling you that you look too good, that he can’t help himself, that he needs you, and has to fuck you right here, right now, I can’t wait.

And so when you nod, he’ll flip up that skirt of yours – the main culprit for the throbbing between his legs, of course, because the clear view of your legs and thighs makes his mouth water – and slip aside those panties, his cock already out and hard and dripping for you.

It’s spontaneous, more than anything, and it’s one of the only ways in which Shouta is a little carefree with sex – one of the only times that he isn’t serious, or at least as serious.

The main way Shouta likes to engage in clothed sex, though, is through cockwarming. He just likes being close to you – he’s touch-starved, and although he doesn’t have the energy to actually fuck you, he still wants to be inside you, to have your body against his, to have you near and be smelling your scent and hearing your voice.

And so, it’s not a rare occurrence to have him pull you into his arms on his modest leather couch, your frumpy sweatpants and t-shirt (both his, of course, a fact that isn’t lost on him – he will not be washing either of those items when they eventually are off your body) covering your form and his own loungewear covering his.

He’ll shuffle up behind you, pulling you against him so that he’s spooning you, and before long you’ll feel something poking at your ass – something hard and insistent, something that seems to be bobbing and moving every few moments.

Truthfully, Shouta couldn’t say what got him hard – perhaps it was just being with you, or maybe smelling you, or the sight of you in his clothes. It could be any number of things – but his breath hitches as you swallow and carefully tug down the hem of your sweatpants, pressing your exposed ass back against him.

He makes a sound like a low whistle, and then he’s fishing his cock out of his own pants, the tip already wet with precum as he shifts his hips to slip between your legs, propping your leg up over his so that he can push inside. He does so with a small groan, resting his forehead against your back, and he feels you clench down on him.

He’s content to lay there – the warmth of his clothing and from you almost too much, but seeing the way you snuggle deeper into the shirt sending something warm and hot and possessive through his chest. He’ll just pull you against him tighter, the slight shift making the both of you hiss at the small burst of pleasure. He’s content to fall asleep that way – relaxed, his cock still nestled inside of you and hard as a rock, the feeling of your cunt lulling him into dreams filled with you naked and moaning his name, all bouncing breasts and desperate hands and begs for more.

(Don’t be surprised, when this happens, to wake up feeling something dripping out of you – yes, it’s cum and yes, that wet dream was enough to get him there. Don’t mention it, either, because Shouta’s always disappointed that he wasn’t awake for it - after all, call him old-fashioned but finishing inside of you is arguably his favorite selfish part of sex.)

Overstimulation

Shouta is not a stingy lover. In the bedroom, he lives to see you enjoying yourself – it soothes this primal, horrible ache in his chest that yearns or your approval and happiness. A lot of his obsession is born out of a desire to please you and keep you happy and safe, and this translates into making absolutely sure you’re satisfied in every possible way between the sheets.

Sex isn’t really sex until you’ve had at least two orgasms, whether that be because of his fingers or tongue, and only then will he throw your pretty legs up over his shoulders, sinking into you with a sharp exhale and letting his face rest against your sternum as he wills himself to not get too excited, to keep his cool and not rut into you like wild animal. He wants you to enjoy sex with him – he craves intimacy with you and he needs you to crave it too, and he’s hopeful that by giving you the best attention and care in bed, you’ll be more inclined to kiss and hold him, to touch him and whisper those three little words in his ear.

(The three little words that make him gasp and shudder, cum immediately spurting out of his red, swollen tip, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto your thigh and the bedsheets tightly enough to keep himself grounded through the pleasure.)

And so, Shouta finds that there’s something darkly pleasing about being the one to get you orgasming, being the source of your pleasure – seeing your face twist up, your mouth forming that pretty ‘o’ and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Shouta develops a bit of a sick fascination with seeing just how often he can make you come for him, and from what. It stems from a good place; a genuine desire to make you happy and get you shaking with pleasure and incoherent enough that all you can say is his name.

 He likes to choose how you come – will it be his fingers? Will he draw pretty circles on the inside of your thighs, teasing you and feeling the way your breathing picks up a bit, a whine of his name telling him that you’re growing impatient, that you need more, that you need him?

He’ll get closer and closer to your folds, pressing a thumb against them and dipping in ever so slightly, the dull pleasure making you bite your lip, embarrassment eating you alive because it feels so dirty to be teased like this, to keep your legs so wide open for him, to feel the way his eyes are staring at you so fully and intensely, the adoration and lust swimming in those dark depths nearly too much for you handle.

He’ll press two fingers against your clit and get to work, rubbing with light pressure and slowly increasing it, feeling the way the nub gets harder and more swollen, fingers swiping down to collect a bit of your slick to make things easier, the pads of his fingers gliding along your sensitive skin and making your hips jump and twist.

He’ll use his other hand to finger you, rough calloused skin dragging against your walls and pressing right into the spot he knows you love – the one that makes your back arch up, your head pushing back against the pillow, your nails digging into the bedsheets and tangling through his hair. Working you through an orgasm with his fingers is his favorite and what you’ll most likely get – he gets a front row seat, watching with rapt attention as you fall apart for him, feeling the way your thighs tremble and close in around him when you’re right on the edge.

There’s this feeling of power, pride and desire making him light headed and only work harder at his ministrations, ignoring your yelps and gasps of overstimulation because he needs to see that again, to feel the way you clench down onto his fingers so tightly that he has to work to pull them out to thrust back in. You’re just so damn sexy, the sight of you laying before him with your pretty legs spread wide open making him swallow so hard you can hear it.

But of course, Shouta also loves using his mouth to get you off – pink lips attaching to your nipple, sucking and running his tongue over your areola to make you squirm, your little keens making his cock twitch against your thigh.

He’ll kiss at your hips, making a trail down to your clit, giving you little kitten licks while his eyes flick up to look at you, seeing the way you sigh and bite your lip, the rising and falling of your chest making him near feral.  

He wants to see you moan and writhe, to feel you grasping at him and needing him, and so his patience wears out and he dives between your legs, slick coating his nose and chin as he licks and sucks and thrusts his tongue against you, eyes closed in concentration and hair getting in his face but he doesn’t care – how can he, when you sound so pretty moaning his name like that?

How can he, when your thighs are clenching around his head and you’re just so fucking wet for him, showing him exactly how much he’s affecting you?

It's euphoric, and soon you’ll be crying out his name and creaming all over his lips, shaking in his grasp so hard that he has to hold you down by the hips to help you ride out the pleasure, the taste of you making him so hard that it hurts.

And god, there’s something about the way you respond to voice and his commands in bed that makes Shouta curse under his breath. You look up at him all wide-eyed, pleasure written across your face as you look to him for guidance, his voice gruff and thick with lust as he tells you to let go, come for me, want to see you come for me.

You immediately furrow your brows and bite your lip, grinding yourself harder against his fingers, feeling the pads of them brush against the spot that has you seeing stars, his name a prayer as you chant it over and over, only stopping to moan or gasp.

The sight is intoxicating, leaving Shouta gaping like a fish with parted lips and heavy breaths, staring at you like you’re something heavenly, divine, unable to tear his gaze away because he still can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re moaning his name, that you’re letting him touch you and oh, he knows what that change in your facial expression means, how you’re blinding grasping at him, how you’re stuttering out a rushed ‘m coming, Shouta ‘m coming fuck-!

Watching you come undone right before his eyes has Shouta’s cock throbbing, his hips subtly moving against your thigh because he needs friction, the sight of you and the knowledge that he made you this way nearly too much for him to bear.

And when you finally calm down, your breathing wild and your eyes a little glazed over, he’ll just swallow and quickly situate him hips between your legs, gripping himself at the base and impatiently prodding at your entrance, his words dark as he tells you that you’ve got another one in you, give it to me.

When he pushes in – slowly, so as not to hurt you – he lets out a groan, only muffled by the way he leans down to kiss you, feeling the way you tense up and eagerly return the gesture, wrapping your ankles around his waist and pulling him deeper, showing him that you need more more more if you’re going to finish like he wants you to.

And Shouta’s happy to oblige – snapping his hips into you until his muscles are sore and screaming, a thumb relentlessly toying with your clit, his lips against your neck and whispering praise tainted with curses.

He’s encouraging you to feel good, telling you to tell me how it – fuck, how it feels, you’re so goddamn tight, tell me how to fuck you – o-oh…

Because really, while he loves to get you coming and falling apart on his terms, Shouta’s pride flies out the window where you’re concerned – he’d do anything to get you clenching down on him and begging him to finish inside you.

Anything.

Voyeurism

Honestly, it’s a byproduct of having stalked you for such an extended period of time. Watching you was the only way to feel close to you – he wasn’t able to hold you and kiss you, to feel you and lay with you and make you whine his name, and becoming your shadow was the only possible substitution.

And even then, it wasn’t enough – all the guilt he harbors from watching you in your more intimate moments never fades, not even after years of having stolen you away, your pretty body and mind fully his to do as he pleases. He’s still ashamed, but some things he just simply can’t unlearn – and so, even once your sexual relationship begins, Shouta finds himself still utterly excited by the prospect of watching you pleasure yourself.

It’s dirty, horrible, something that makes him feel so guilty he can hardly stand it, but he can’t not stop and watch through the crack in your door when he hears what sounds suspiciously close to muffled whimpers.

He can’t not press his ear against the wooden door, closing his eyes and imagining what you’re doing to yourself – maybe you’re playing with that cute little clit, rubbing it in circles and biting your lip because it just feels so damn good, mimicking the way that Shouta works you up slowly and steadily, getting you so sensitive that your hips jump and twitch at just the slightest bit of pressure against your sensitive nerves.

(He’s had dreams about the way you taste – he thinks you’d be musky, something natural and strong and savory, a taste he wants in his mouth at all hours of the day. And the way you’d tremble and gush for him if it was his fingers and mouth toying with the nub, how you’d tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer and closer to you, needing as much of him as possible, needing him him him…)

Maybe you’re sinking your fingers inside of you, working up from one to three, stretching yourself out and imagining it’s him instead, that he’s the one filling you up and making your toes curl, that he’s the one causing all those pretty noises to fall from your lips.

(He knows just how much bigger his own fingers are – he’ll imagine the size difference, his eyes shutting tight when he thinks of how much more he can stretch you out, how much better he can make you feel, how the texture of his fingers must send pleasure up your spine in a way that your soft, comparatively dainty fingers can’t.)

Maybe you’re perched up on a pillow, straddling it with your cunt pressed snugly against the fabric, slick smearing across the cotton as you grind your hips back and forth, hunched over so that the angle is just right, imagining it’s him underneath you and it’s his thigh or cock you’re rubbing against.

(He’s had wet dreams about this sight, always hoping and fantasizing that you’re just so desperate for him that you’re imagining it’s his face you’re riding, his mind conjuring up the sound of your voice moaning out his name and telling him yes yes o-oh fuck yes, Shouta ‘s so good, you feel so good! He’d never seen you riding a pillow during all those months of stalking, but the idea’s just too graphic and wanton and lewd for him to not fantasize about, the idea satisfying the part of him that’s embarrassed and ashamed of just how badly he craves you – because surely if you’re humping some piece of cotton and pretending it’s him, then what does he have to be embarrassed about? Lots, really, but it makes him feel slightly better.)

Or maybe you’ve decided that you want something a little more physical, something to really mimic him – he’d seen you using your vibrator many, many times before he stole you away. His face always turned pink at the sight, his throat going dry and his grip on his capture weapon a little loose as he simply stared, the sight of your pretty body contorting and the plastic held against the crest of your pelvic bone making everything else fade away.

You’re so damn pretty – the way you moan and sigh, how your legs twitch, how your breasts sway and jiggle with every motion, making his fingers ache to reach out and squeeze, to knead and touch and grope, like some sort of pervert.

And this fantasy and mental image has stayed with him long after kidnapping you – once your physical relationship begins and Shouta no longer feels it would make you even more uncomfortable and scared of him, he’s buying you a replacement for that trusty vibrator you used to use to death. He’d left it on your nightstand one morning with a hasty note simply saying I’m gone a lot, I don’t want you to get lonely.

Of course, this is only half the truth – he does want you to be happy, and he doesn’t want you to grow resentful of the times when he’s too exhausted to give you proper sex. But of course, the unspoken portion of this gift is that he wants to watch you use said vibrator – and badly.

He wants to sit in a chair at the side of the bed, legs spread wide as he grips the base of his cock, absentmindedly squeezing at his balls while his dark eyes stay trained on your figure. He wants you to be spread out for him, perhaps a skimpy set of lingerie covering your pretty body (or perhaps none at all, if you’re comfortable with it) with your legs spread wide, the vibrator in your hand hovering against your clit. He wants to hear the steady, dull buzzing sound mixing with your whimpers, to see the way your body tenses up and you whine, feet flexing and shaky breaths slipping past your lips as you slowly work towards your high.

He wants to see the way you eventually grow impatient, changing the vibrator’s setting and immediately crying out, the feeling much more intense and making your orgasm hurtle towards you, getting slick all over the bedspread as you cry out his name and writhe.

And Shouta doesn’t want you to look at him – he doesn’t want you to acknowledge that he’s there. Ignore him, just as you would have back when he was simply watching from outside your window – he wants to watch you, not have a show be put on for him.

You’re just too pretty, and there’s something about watching you that gets him hard as rock, his fist twisting and flicking so quickly it’s nearly a blur as he watches you transition to fucking yourself with the toy, your cries loud and wanton as Shouta grunts and curses under his breath. He wants to finish with you this time, his hips thrusting against his hand in an effort to match the pace you’ve set for yourself. It’s a dirty secret of his, and while Shouta won’t force you into it, just know that he would love to catch you masturbating – just the sight of you pleasuring yourself is enough to get him hot under the collar immediately, hand rushing into his trousers to cup himself because god.

He just likes to watch you, and even during regular sex when he’s folded you in half, those eyes are alternating between watching your face, your bouncing breasts, and your cunt swallowing his cock again and again and again, his cheeks a rosy pink and a bead of sweat dripping from his brow.

You’re just too pretty, he can’t take it – how can he not immediately want to get something of his on you, staining your lovely skin and gorgeous face with his cum?

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE

Hair Pulling

But not on you – unless you like it, in which case he might consider but will only ever do it lightly. He doesn’t like causing pain in general, and would only be willing to do it in very specific scenarios – and even then, it will be as gently as he possibly can.

Rather, Shouta likes when you pull his hair – he doesn’t let most people touch it, and it’s a rare day that he actually runs a comb through it, so as a result his scalp is extremely sensitive. And so, when you tunnel your fingers through his dark locks and pull, Shouta audibly groans, the tingling pain sending pleasure racing down his spine.

There’s just something naughty about it – only you get to touch him like this, so only you get to run your fingers through his hair and tug at it.

He particularly likes when you pull it while he’s got his face between your legs. He likes how your fingers tunnel through it and scrape against his scalp, and he’ll often use it as an indicator of whether he’s doing a good job or not. If you pull often and hard, he knows he’s doing what he needs to do – he’ll keep the pace up and stay in that same spot, doing everything and anything in his power to keep you pulling at it, working through any pain in his jaw or tongue because he needs to make sure you’re feeling good even at his own expense.

When he’s got you perched on his face, your pretty thighs framing his head so that all he can smell and taste and feel is you, he likes to have you reach down and still pull lightly at the roots, your breasts squished together and nipples taut, the visual alongside your taste and the slight pain from his scalp making his eyes roll to the back of his head and precum dribble down his length.

When he’s hovering over you and thrusting into you, balls clapping against your ass and your legs wrapped around his waist, he likes to have you tug at his hair, moaning out and crying his name with each tug and letting his ego swell, each burst of light pain making his hips go harder, faster, deeper, anything to get you louder and clenching around him tighter.

Even when you’re just kissing – simple, innocent kisses full of smiles and his hands gripping you just ever so slightly, Shouta likes to have you running your hands through his hair and tugging lightly, keeping him on his toes and forcing his cock to life.

He just really, really likes to have you touch his hair – it’s something intimate and something he’ll only ever let you do, so really, you should count yourself lucky. Shouta sure does when he’s buried deep inside you, watching your face and feeling your hands in his hair as he gives you every last drop he has to offer.

Mirror Sex

In general, Shouta absolutely loves watching you in bed. He thinks you’re genuinely the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and when you’re gasping on his cock and moaning his name, you’re even prettier, even more breathtaking and lovely and perfect.

And while he prefers positions where he can see your face, he wants to be able to see your expressions always, even if he’s got you bent over while he presses his back to your chest and mounts you like some sort of wild animal.

And so, to solve this problem, Shouta invests in a modest, simple mirror that he keeps facing the end of your ‘shared’ bed – it’s roughly four feet tall and two feet wide, the perfect size so that when he’s got you on your hands and knees for him, your back arching and your arms threatening to give out, he can watch your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He’ll experiment with the pacing of his thrusts, going deeper and harder to see the way your brows scrunch up, how your jaw drops and the most depraved whine slips out of you, pride and arousal swelling in his chest because he made you make that noise.

He’ll go slower and keep his thrusts brushing against the spots that make you gasp just so that he can see the way your lips twitch.

He’ll speed up, fucking into you so fast that his balls slap lewdly against your ass, the noise filling the room alongside your pants and his groans, watching all the while how your eyes flutter and your back arches. He’ll sit you in his lap facing the mirror, spreading your legs and getting to work with his fingers curling and rubbing inside of you, a thumb circling your clit and his lips at your ear as he tells you to watch, pretty, see how good you look?

He’ll kiss a line from behind your ear, down your neck and over your shoulder, occasionally glancing up to the mirror to make sure you’re actively looking, whispering praises against your skin each time.

And he’ll bring you close to the mirror, too – sitting you only a foot away from the reflective surface, letting you get a nice view of Shouta’s favorite sight – your cunt, all spread out and wet, practically begging for something big, heavy, and throbbing to fill it, to stretch it out and make you see stars.

He’ll spread your lips, exposing your clenching hole, smiling at your reflection and making you tell him that you’re pretty, forcing you to grow comfortable with your body because he knows that it makes you insecure to see so much of yourself, and it drives him crazy.

He’ll even fuck you against the mirror – forcing you to watch your face from mere inches away, your hot breaths fogging up the glass, and he’ll make you come like that – holding your chin straight ahead and telling you to watch, sh-shit, watch, don’t take those fucking eyes off your face in a strained voice.

He just likes getting a good view of you during sex – you’re too pretty not to be seen, after all.  

BIGGEST FANTASY

In general, Shouta absolutely loves being intimate with you. While he’s no virgin, he doesn’t have an extensive amount of experience, and frankly he’s never been the biggest fan of sex – it’s too messy, too energy draining, and just a massive hassle.

However, when it’s with you, and when you moan his name just right and leave your nail marks down his back, Shouta will gladly strip his clothing at your beck and call, his lips already on yours before you can even finish your sentence.

And while he loves good, rough, passionate sex that’s full of smacking hips, gasps, moans and growls, there’s something to be said for slower, gentler sex, the kind that’s full of airy breaths and slow, meaningful kisses.

It’s the kind of sex where you can really feel him; every inch of him, the way his body covers yours as he hovers over you, the tickle of his hair against your jaw and neck as he buries his face in the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone, his hips rocking into yours and managing to grind against that one perfect spot that gets you sighing out a moan. It’s just more intimate this way, less of a wild, frantic race to get inside of you and more a slow, controlled love making, as embarrassed as he is to use to term.

Regardless, you’re most likely to get this type of sex from Shouta in two specific scenarios – the first of which being after a very long day, filled with a harrowing patrol where he maybe wasn’t able to save everyone, or things didn’t go according to plan. When this happens, he needs to just hold you, to feel you, to hear you whisper his name under your breath and tell him how good he feels, how he’s the best you’ve ever had, how he’s the only one you’ll ever want…

The second – and far more likely – scenario is in the early hours of the morning, when the sunlight is streaming into the modest apartment he keeps you in, your shared bed feeling warm with your bodies pressed against one another. Soft, sleepy morning sex is Shouta’s favorite, and something that he tries to incite as often as he possibly can.

There’s just something about it that gets him hot under the collar; maybe it’s the casualness of it all, the way it feels so natural, so human and so right, as if your bodies were made for each other. Maybe it’s the way it feels so intimate, like you’re both raw, yourselves in the most wonderful way.

Or maybe it’s the way you’re still just slightly sleepy, and you’re much more likely to be clingy at this time, touching him more and letting your real noises come out, not hindered by any shame or hate or embarrassment.

Regardless, Shouta loves it – so on the rare weekends where he’s off, expect to be woken up on the brink of an orgasm just as you deserve.

A yawn slips past Shouta’s lips, eyes peeling open and seeing the gray of his bedsheets. Everything is warm and soft, and as he shifts slightly, something moves next to him.

Nothing seems real for a few moments as he gazes down at you, your body curled up next to his own. It doesn’t feel real that you’re really here – in his bed without any clothing, happily sleeping without a care in the world. He swallows, something coming over him and moving him slowly – carefully – peel off the covers, moving down to where your legs slightly part.

He leans down, face mere inches away from the tufts of your pubic hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he inhales. You’re perfect – and as he gently pries your legs open further, Shouta can’t help but think of how often he’s fantasized about this very moment – how often he’s dreamt of what’s between your thighs, how he’d lay awake at night and press his fingers between two pillows, grinding his fingers against the cotton and pretending it was you, imagining how warm and wet you’d be for him.

He swallows, determination setting his brow as he lays onto his stomach, shuffling so that he can lightly lick at your inner thighs, eyes closing at the familiar taste of you. He takes his time, going slowly and softly, licking closer and closer to your pretty folds, eventually reaching them and licking his lips at the taste.

A thumb comes up to slowly press against your clit, knowing too much pressure would hurt and not warm your body up the way it needed. He continues his licks, before switching roles and starting to suckle at your clit as a finger dips between your folds, collecting the slick and rubbing it between his fingers.

Soon he’s pressing one inside, feeling the way your thighs twitch slightly, a small, sleepy moan ringing in his ears. God, you’re so damn perfect – even unconscious you’re enough to get his cock throbbing against the cotton sheets.

He keeps his pace slow, but as time passes you stir a bit, and when he hears your sleepy voice mumble out his name, Shouta curses, his fingers speeding up a bit.

That gets you more awake – soon your fingers are carding through his hair, sighs and murmurs of his name sounding like heaven.

“Mm, Shouta, that feels good…” You mumble, still dazed from waking up. Your hips are twitching now, a sign that the pleasure is slowly beginning to build.

Shouta groans against your cunt, the sound muffled.

Soon his fingers are picking up the pace again, his circles and licks at your clit growing more insistent, and the hands weaving through his hair start to tug – the sensation gets him humping at the bed for a moment, the morning glow still shining on you as he glances up at your face. You look like an angel – shining in the sunlight, your lips parted in a moan, head thrown back in pleasure.

Shouta pulls back for a moment, sending a kiss to your clit that makes your hips buck. He chuckles a bit, licking his lips.

“You’re so beautiful..” He whispers against your thigh, pressing open mouthed kisses against the skin. You hum at his compliment, and he watches as you smile, his breath practically punched out of his lungs.

“Shouta, you’re too good to me…” Your voice is soft, too, and soon he’s back to sucking at your clit, feeling the way your body jolts slightly, the pleasure making you sigh and swallow. He watches the movement of your throat.

“Feels good, mm yes, oh Shouta - just like that,” You start, eyes closed again, and Shouta finds himself abandoning the gentle pace he’d adopted, instead being more insistent, more pushy – suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get you coming on his fingers.

You gasp lightly at the new change in pace, grinding your hips to match the new stimulation, and it makes Shouta dizzy. How can you be so attractive? How can you look so perfect in this moment; in his bed, moaning his name, looking and tasting and smelling like his own personal slice of heaven?

It’s cheesy and he’s almost embarrassed, but tears prick at the corners of his eye.

Soon your gasps have turned to moans, and all too soon you warn him in a slurred voice that you’re coming, your back arching up off the mattress and your moans light and airy as you gush against his fingers, white coating all the way down his knuckles and onto his palms. It makes him choke a bit, the feeling of your cunt rhythmically clenching down on him and your chest heaving, and with a final lick to your clit that makes you jerk, he’s moving up to kiss you.

The kiss is slow, his tongue brushing against yours and wet sound filling the room, but Shouta doesn’t mind. How could he, when he’s never felt this relaxed before?

His eyes slowly open as he feels your fingers wrap around him, a thumb brushing along his tip to collect a bit of the wetness there.

“Shouta, let me make you feel good.” You tell him, your voice just a whisper.

He looks at you, his lips parted for a brief moment, before a small smile quirks up the corners of his mouth. “Why would you do that?”

You trace the line of his jaw with your free thumb. The slow strokes of his cock have him a bit distracted, but he hears every word you speak to him. “Because I love you.”

He swallows, the words making something feel tight in his throat.

You laugh a bit at his silence and the dumbstruck look on his face. “What? Do you not love me too?”

And to answer that, Shouta scoffs, leaning down to kiss you again as he grasps himself around the base, pulling himself away from you and pushing into you, feeling your sharp intake of breath against his lips.

His pace is slow, soft, like he’s trying to tell you something – hips moving slowly and deeply, letting you feel every inch of him. He kisses your neck as your head falls back, your eyes fluttering closed.

Pressing a kiss against your collarbone, Shouta smiles against your skin, a groan falling from his lips.

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

And he means it – you’ll don’t know half of the things he’s done for you, and as he squeezes at your breast and hears your soft moan, he knows he’ll never tell you.

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere aizawa #yandere eraserhead #bnha smut #mha smut #_bnha #_shouta aizawa #_lee's profiles

[hopelessromwriter]

Best Teacher

Aizawa shota x student reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff

It was a typical school day, and Aizawa Shouta had just finished teaching his last class of the day. As he walked out of the classroom, he noticed a student who should have been in class walking in the opposite direction. The student's head was down, and she seemed to be in a hurry.

"Hey, (l/n)!" Aizawa called out to you. "What are you doing out here? You should be in class."

You stopped and turned around to face him. You looked up at him with big, sad eyes.

"I'm sorry, Aizawa-sensei," you said quietly. "I just needed to get some fresh air."

Aizawa's concern was immediate. He had noticed that you had been absent from class more frequently than usual, and your grades had been slipping. He wondered if there was something going on that was causing you to act this way.

"Is everything okay?" he asked you gently. "You've been absent quite a bit lately, and your grades are suffering. Is there something going on that I should know about?"

You hesitated, but something about the way Aizawa was looking at you made you feel like you could trust him.

"I...I've been having some problems at home," you admitted. "It's been hard to focus on school lately."

Aizawa nodded, understandingly. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I'll figure it out."

Aizawa placed a hand on your shoulder, his expression softening. "I know it can be tough sometimes," he said. "But you don't have to go through it alone. If you ever need someone to talk to or if there's anything I can do to make things easier for you, please don't hesitate to come to me."

You looked up at him, eyes filling with tears. You had never had a teacher show such concern for your well-being before.

"Thank you, Aizawa-sensei," you said, your voice breaking a little. "I'll keep that in mind."

Aizawa smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that made him look kinder than ever.

"Just remember," he said. "You're not alone. And as your teacher, I'm always here to help you."

You nodded, feeling a sense of comfort that you hadn't felt in a long time. You turned and walked back towards the school building, feeling a little more hopeful than you had in a while.

Aizawa watched you go, feeling a sense of satisfaction that he had been able to help in some small way. As a teacher, he knew that his job was more than just teaching his students about the subject matter. It was also about making sure that they were okay and had the support they needed to succeed. And he was more than happy to do just that.

#bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #aizawa sensei #dadzawa #aizawa shouta #student reader #fluff #imagine #drabble #x reader

[ms-fandomgirl]

Violet Petrichor

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader

Words: 5,245 total (oneshot + epilogue)

Summary: When Shinsou Hitoshi was first born, his world was filled with magic and fantasy. When Shinsou Hitoshi was born a second time, he was plunged into a society of heroes, villains, and quirks. Now, on a hot summer’s day in a modern and very mundane world, Shinsou Hitoshi only had one goal in his third life: To meet you once again.

Genre: Modern AU (mentions of Fantasy AU and Pro Hero AU), Reincarnation AU, fluff, meet cute, Shinsou being in love, just a tiny bit of angst

Links: Epilogue | Masterlist | Ao3

People said time was linear. Shinsou scoffed at the thought. 

Time was a comforting blanket, a suffocating cloth, a living and breathing fiber interwoven with the threads of lives, hours, and minutes being layered one on top of another until it made a beautiful, messy tapestry. However, Shinsou didn’t consider himself a thread, or even a stitch, crafted with care.

 No, Shinsou was a snag, a small yet persistent imperfection in this tapestry of time, no matter how hard it tugged and pulled to close the gap. His eyes glinted with wisdom beyond his years, the edges of his smile flashed a little too sharp, but that’s what happens when you remember everything in this life and the ones before. At this point, his lives tied together to create one long string of memories and emotions, coarse and unyielding to the touch, but his all the same.

In this life, he was the owner of a quaint bookshop and cafe in the middle of Tokyo, a small bit of quiet in the raging storm of everyday life. However, if he closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of old parchment stained with ink and the earthy soil from the potted plants in the windowsill, he was back in the castle, pouring over volumes written in archaic languages as a disciple of the Royal Mage. Young, ambitious, and cunning, he could feel the hopes and dreams of his first life pass through his mind like specs of dust drifting in a patch of sunlight. He had wanted so much more than the hand he was dealt with, and he was determined to get it by any means necessary. 

  A chime rang through the shop, and Shinsou opened his eyes, squinting against the rush of hot summer air as it blew in with the customer. He raised his hand, a further greeting unnecessary as he took in the disgruntled man before him. A hunched figure with a permanent scowl on his face, Shinsou smiled to himself as he wandered over to where the man had collapsed on a worn sofa, extending an iced coffee with extra cream as a peace offering. The man grunted in thanks, swiping the drink and downing half of it in two gulps. 

Few things remained constant for Shinsou besides change, especially when it came to people. Yes, he often saw shadows of the past, friends and enemies alike, but they were different, always changed: A trusted companion turned cashier clerk, the village spinster turned loving grandmother. All achingly similar, yet far too different to put any real weight in them. 

However, there were some, a select few, who always seemed to come back, caught up on the snag he had created and refusing to let go. Shouta Aizawa was one of these people. Mentor through and through, he had taught Shinsou the intricacies of the magical arts, the perils of Pro-Heroes, and now, the ins-and-outs of prose and literature. 

Known as the harshest critic on campus, Professor Aizawa had the highest drop-rate out of any other teacher at U.A. University and often reduced his students to tears with his merciless grading. When Shinsou had announced that he wanted to double-major in Literature and Psychology, many had protested. His friends had warned him of all-nighters and crushed dreams, while random upperclassmen had sagely advised him to pick another area of study immediately. Shinsou was unperturbed. In fact, he was excited. The second he saw Aizawa’s gloomy face on the local news for the annual U.A. University charity gala, he knew he had to attend as though his life depended on it.   

It was rough at first; it always was. No matter the timeline, Aizawa was a master of tough love, and in this current world where frustrations couldn’t be taken out through hexes or quirk training, he was borderline sadistic. Failing grades, harsh words, and bitter coffee greeted Shinsou for his first class with the infamous Professor, but Shinsou did what he did best and persisted. He persisted because he knew that behind the vitriol lay a mentor with a guarded heart too big for one person who would support Shinsou no matter the circumstance, and because he thought that for fleeting moments, Aizawa knew this too.

He had never spoken about his pasts to his mentor, or anyone else, for that matter. Shinsou knew the fine line between being considered a dreamer and being considered for a mental hospital, and he tread it with practiced ease. Despite this, there were times that Aizawa seemed to know a little too much, even repeating familiar phrases and recalling minute details, almost daring Shinsou to ask, daring him to remember. 

Now was one of those times. Aizawa was waxing monologues about the shortcomings of his current class, laying particularly hard into a student named Kaminari who refused to acknowledge anything besides manga as “true literature.” Shinsou snickered to himself. Perhaps more things stayed the same than he had previously thought.  

“As much as I’m loathe to admit it, he has guts, and a surprisingly solid plan, for someone whose brain is otherwise as developed as a jellyfish,” Aizawa commented. His expression turned sour at the thought of having just praised one of his most idiotic students. Shinsou let him ruminate in his misery, knowing that he would have more to say. 

Aizawa sighed, expression clearing as he delivered the final blow. “There’s nothing crueler than letting someone chase their half-baked dreams.” His tired eyes cut to Shinsou, a ghost of a smile fluttering across his lips. “You of all people would know that.” 

And suddenly, Shinsou was lying face down in the dirt. A crisp autumn breeze whipped around the clearing, but it did nothing to cool the perspiration which covered his whole body in a thick sheen nor dry the frustrated tears which threatened to fall from his eyes. It was hopeless, he was hopeless. Writhing on the ground, he was tangled up in a capture weapon that had, so far, only served to capture himself - over, and over, and over.

  ‘Why had I even wanted to be a hero anyway?’ he thought before a tidal wave of guilt washed over him. Of course he knew why, but what if he actually couldn’t become a hero? What if this was the one timeline where he couldn’t meet - 

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Get up, I still have twenty minutes before I have to leave for my shift.” 

Shinsou remained motionless on the ground. The thought of getting up again just to fall was too much to bear. If that was the case, he might as well stay down here in the dirt, battered and bruised, where he belonged. 

Aizawa, the bane of his existence, didn’t let it happen. Hand fisting in his shirt, he hauled Shinsou up like a sack of potatoes, carrying him over to a nearby tree and dropping him in an ungraceful heap at the base.  

“What’s gotten into you? Don’t you want to be a hero?” he groused, prodding Shinsou with his shoe. 

“Of course I do,” Shinsou snapped. “I’m tired. Can’t a hero be tired for a day?” Tired was an understatement, he was exhausted, exhausted of this endless training, exhausted of being stuck on this endless plateau that just kept going and going and going. 

Aizawa squatted down next to him, and Shinsou let out a breath of relief at the apparent respite. However, his happiness was short-lived as Aizawa reached down to grab at the end of the capture weapon. Yanking it rough enough to spin Shinsou around several times, he again ended up face-first in the dirt as he was released from his bindings. 

“Listen here,” Aizawa began, voice so low that Shinsou had to strain to catch his words, “I’m not training you out of obligation or pity. I’m here because when I saw you in the sports festival, what I saw was potential. You’re young and ambitious, wanting to change a world that will resist you every step of the way. Someone with those dreams can’t afford to be ‘tired,’ to give up, unless you’ve changed your mind.” 

Shinsou was too stunned to speak, unused to his mentor’s praise, hidden as it was. He looked up at Aizawa who now stood, offering him a hand. 

“There’s nothing crueler than letting someone chase their half-baked dreams, so get up and prove me wrong.” Reaching out a shaky hand of his own, Shinsou grasped the offer of help. Standing once again, he reached for the capture weapon, and if his watering eyes were from more than the dirt he was covered in, neither man mentioned it. 

The ice rattled in Aizawa’s cup as he set it on a knitted coaster beside the couch, reclining like a king on his own personal throne. He turned his head to face Shinsou, expression losing all mirth until only steady determination remained. 

“That’s why I think you should apply for the open position at the University. You see things for how they are, like I do. Your mind and experience are unparalleled when you decide to put them to use, if you finally want to, that is.” 

As if the heavens agreed, a loud clap of thunder startled Shinsou out of whatever quip he was going to say, now distracted by the soft patter of water droplets falling onto the awning. 

“I’ll think about it,” he dismissed. “Rain?”  

Aizawa nodded in response. “Oboro cleaned behind his ears today.”

Oboro, the gigantic, fluffy cat who ruined Aizawa’s otherwise flawless dark aesthetic by leaving white hairs all over his pants. While the cat’s grooming habits would never be broadcasted on the weather channel, this explanation made as much sense to Shinsou as if someone gave him an in-depth meteorology lesson. 

Superstitions were hard to forget, especially when there was once a time when they weren’t superstitions at all. Therefore, he could hardly blame himself for noticing the little magics and signs left in an otherwise mundane world. Thankfully for him, Aizawa noticed them too, which made conversations like this commonplace between them. 

Unable to stop himself, Shinsou cracked open the window, letting the sound of rain and the smell of petrichor mingle with the warm tones of the shop. Aizawa curled up onto the couch, producing a thick anthology of fairy tales and ending all conversation. Days were often spent like this between them; Aizawa setting up camp in Serendipity Bookshop and Shinsou letting him, helping customers when needed and basking in the silent communion between two old souls.

Minutes passed into hours, and still the rain continued, veiling them to the outside and encasing them in a world all their own. It was nearing evening, and Shinsou was debating whether to close the shop early when a slight tinkle of the door chime alerted him to a new customer. He looked up, and his breath caught in his throat. Finally, it was you.

You, in a glittering gown of splendor, standing next to your father in the throne room, beauty shining brighter than the sunlight which poured through the stained glass windows above your head, making Shinsou squint up at you as he pledged his fealty to the kingdom as an apprentice warlock. 

You, hovering above his head and grinning with triumph as you apprehended villain after villain, looking like an angel of vengeance as you danced a deadly tango with your best friend, knowing that no one could stand a chance against the both of you.

You, slightly damp from the rain, eyes wide as you took in the cluttered shop with interest and growing even wider as they landed on the lavender-haired man before you. 

Shinsou knew without a doubt that he must look like a complete fool as he stared back at you, but he couldn’t help it, he never could. The sight of you after so long felt like the release of a long slow breath after an eternity of tension. 

He had been patient, meticulously biding his time until he could once again meet you, because he knew it would happen. You were the other constant, the other thread wound so tightly around Shinsou’s life that he couldn’t escape if he tried, not that he would ever want to. He didn’t know what kept you coming back. You never showed signs of remembrance, unlike Aizawa, although your personality and resemblance remained unchanged. He had gone on a brief stint of mad research after meeting you a second time, desperately trying to understand how you were here and how he could make you stay. Unsurprisingly, there were no books or articles which could advise him on the technicalities of befriending a past lover from your previous life.

  At this point, Shinsou merely assumed it was a byproduct of a time when magic was real. Between heavy breaths and stolen kisses in the cool of the night, some ancient oath must have been uttered up to the heavens, leaving the magic to work its blessing, or curse. 

Right now, Shinsou considered it a blessing, both that you were once again standing before him and that you didn’t remember the times before. While there might have been solace in knowing he wasn’t bearing the burden of time alone, there were things which he was glad you would never have to remember.

“Welcome to Serendipity Bookshop,” Shinsou said, leaning casually against the counter. “Is there something I can help you with?”

You squirmed under his gaze, obviously caught by surprise. 

“I was just trying to get out of the rain.” Wincing, you gave him an apologetic grin as you realized the harshness of your words. “I would love to look around, though! This is a charming shop. I can’t believe I’ve never noticed it on my way home.” 

Shinsou smiled, inwardly preening at the knowledge that you enjoyed this cozy little nook he had carved out for himself. Moving over to a set of tall cabinets above the small sink, he reached up, pulling down a black ceramic mug with two cat ears poking above the rim. 

“What would you like to drink?” he asked, motioning to the menu. 

You took a minute to contemplate the choices before walking in front of the counter yourself, leaning in to give your response like you were telling him a well-kept secret. “I’m awful at picking new things, and everything on this menu looks delicious. Make your favorite, and I’m sure I won’t be disappointed.” 

A challenge, to be sure, but one that Shinsou accepted with glee. Thankfully for him, he had years of experience aiding him in creating your perfect drink. In fact, the recipe for this particular concoction was one the two of you had created on a different rainy afternoon a lifetime ago: one medium roast latte with lavender syrup and two extra pumps of vanilla, because he knew you had a sweet tooth. 

Gently sliding the steaming mug over the counter, Shinsou watched as you took the first sip. Despite your best efforts, a small sigh of contentment escaped your lips, your eyelashes fluttering as you basked in the sweet-smelling steam wafting into your face and up to the rafters. 

“I love it,” you managed to say after taking two more sips. “Which one is it, and how much do I owe you?” 

You made to reach into your bag, but Shinsou stopped you with a quick shake of his head. “That one is the Violet Petrichor, and it’s on the house.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked, still clutching your bag uncertainty. 

“Positive,” Shinsou replied, “although if you insist on giving me something, your name would work quite well.”

You laughed at his attempts at flirting, giving your name with a sparkle in your eye, and Shinsou felt as though he were floating. He had forgotten how much he had missed that laugh. 

“Mine’s Shinsou Hitoshi,” he responded, answering your unspoken question. 

A moment of silence passed, then two, and then Shinsou began to get anxious. He always faltered here, knowing so much yet nothing at all. Should he speak first, or would you? You had told him in the past that you liked it when he took charge, but is that the case, especially right now? At last, the silence was broken by neither you, nor him, but Aizawa, who slowly stood from the couch, cracking his back before turning to the couple in front of him. 

A mystery to the general public, Aizawa was mostly considered a closed book, unable to be read. However, Shinsou had known the man long enough to understand every microexpression he tried to keep hidden, and he knew that the small, upward twitch of his eyebrow meant nothing but pure, unadulterated trouble. 

“Well,” Aizawa began, bringing his cup over to Shinsou, “it was good to see you Shinsou. Consider my offer.” 

That was fine, good even, and Shinsou thought he was almost off of the hook. Almost. Giving a small nod to you, the Professor pushed the door open, the sound of rain competing with his final words, but they were still easily distinguishable in the quiet bookshop. “I’ll leave you two love birds in peace now.”

A rosy blush bloomed on your cheeks, and Shinsou wondered if he had enough muscle memory left to strangle his mentor on the spot, capture weapon be damned. The door closed with a deafening click, and then it was only the two of you.

Shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, trying to fight off the blush he felt rising to his own cheeks. “Sorry. I would say he was having a bad day today, but I’m pretty sure that’s just every day of his life.”

You waved off his comment, and the tension dissolved. “No worries. That was Professor Aizawa, right?” 

Shinsou nodded. The surprise must have shown on his face because you continued, brows furrowed as though you were solving an extremely difficult puzzle. “I thought I recognized him. I took one of his classes as a Freshman, but it’s been a while now.”

That was news. “You went to U.A. University?” 

“Yeah, I graduated about three years ago. And you?” you responded, nodding to his right hand where the school signet glinted in the lamplight. 

Shinsou held up his hand, counting back the years on his fingers, “Coming up on six years now.”   

“We must have just missed each other. What are the odds that we’re meeting now?” Considering you had met him in every life previously, the odds were very good. Shinsou felt lucky at having such a stacked deck in his favor, at least when it came to you, although he was a little bitter about having missed you during his school years. He was a selfish man, and any moment without you in his life when you could have been there was time wasted.

“Guess it was Serendipity,” Shinsou said. He tried to keep the teasing lilt in his voice, it was a rather good pun afterall, but the words came out a bit too earnestly as he stared at you across the counter. 

“Lucky me then,” you replied, unaware of his inner struggle. You glanced out the window, frowning at the rain which was still pouring down. 

Shinsou followed your gaze. “I don’t think it’s going to stop anytime soon.”

You hummed in agreement, and a brilliant idea struck Shinsou like a lightning bolt. “You said you were headed home, right? I was about to close up shop, so I could walk you there if you’d like me to. I have an umbrella here in case of emergencies, and it’s big enough for two.” 

Shinsou sincerely hoped you would like him to walk you home, and he was rewarded with a beaming smile at the idea. 

“That’s so nice of you!” You faltered for a second, looking up at him bashfully. “I don’t want to cause you too much trouble though. My apartment is about two blocks East from here. Is that on your way?” 

Shinsou, in fact, lived three blocks West from the bookshop, but he would rather die than admit it right now. “Yeah, that’s no problem at all. Give me a couple of minutes to close up, and then we can head out.”

You nodded, asking if he needed any help. Shinsou declined, more than thrilled to simply have you in his presence as he did the chores which had now become second nature to him. Although the idea of being a professor himself did interest him, he was hesitant to leave the shop, especially now that it was the backdrop for your first encounter. He watched you idly skim your fingers across the spines of the books, pausing to greet your favorites like you were catching up with old friends. No, he wouldn’t be giving up Serenity Bookshop any time soon. 

Grabbing his keys from a drawer behind the counter, he hovered by the door, preparing himself for the onslaught of rain. “You ready?”

Your head popped out from the romance bookshelves, a sheepish grin on your face. “Yep!” 

Walking over to him, you forwent the umbrella handle he had extended to you, instead wrapping your hands around the crook of his arm. “This way we can both stay dry.”

Shinsou supposed your reasoning made logical sense, but that didn’t stop his heart from picking up tempo at your sudden proximity. “Of course.”

Locking the door and turning toward the direction you were pointing, Shinsou took up a leisurely pace, wanting to milk the moment for all it was worth. 

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “there’s a really good izakaya near my place that has the best yakisoba I’ve ever had. Maybe we could stop by there on our way home? My treat of course, as gratitude for the help and the drink.” 

There was a slight stutter in your words, but Shinsou quickly put any worries you had to rest, a wide smile stretching across his face. “I’d love that. It sounds perfect for a day like today.” 

And it did, truly. Shinsou couldn’t think of a more perfect way to end his day: You on his arm, laughing and speaking in a way that old friends would instead of newly acquainted strangers, headed to a restaurant where more stories and teasing looks could be exchanged like currency. Of course, this was closer to the truth than you would ever realize, but Shinsou knew, and he relished in it. In this moment, there were no knights and heroes, no villains and kings, just two people walking down a rainy sidewalk with the hovering prospect of something more and all the time in the world.   

A/N: Thanks for reading! Its style was a bit of an experiment for me, so any constructive comments are more than welcome. I'm working on links/formatting, so the Epilogue will be posted later tonight. Reblogs are appreciated, but please do not repost!

#ms fandomgirl writes #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinso x reader #shinso hitoshi #my hero x reader #my hero academia #shinsou x you #bnha x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinsou fluff

[softrozene]

There For You

Anonymous requested: Nice to see your taking requests again! I actually got into your aizawa inspired story recently and it is was so nice to see you bringing awareness to abuse in many forms. 🥺 It hit close to home. So I was wondering if I could get a platonic headcanons or scenarios of aizawa touya and hawks x fem reader? Just comfort/platonic feels of these men helping their friend (y/n) get back into routing after being sexually abused by someone close to them. I hope that's okay! If not don't worry about! thank you for your time! 🥺💞

m.m

Hey anon, first off, I apologize that this took so long. I had to make sure that it was up to my standards of the perfect comfort for the topic. Thank you for trusting me with it and I am so happy that my story is bringing awareness. Sad to hear it hit close to home though : ( I hope you are feeling much better! Enjoy lovely!

Aizawa, Dabi (Touya), and Hawks x Female Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Brief mentions of reader having gone through .sexual. abuse, PTSD, angst, mainly comfort, since dabi is a villain of course his will have a “hint” of murder toward the culprit, platonic friends trying to help reader out and:

*This is a completely serious topic and under no circumstances do I mean to romanticize the issue. Having gone through something similar this is meant for comfort to the anon and those who have also gone through something like this. Please know that you are so worthy and valid of love. You are also worthy of reaching out for help and getting it. Please do not let anyone else tell you otherwise.

Words: ~1,8k

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Aizawa Shouta:

Bonus headcanon really quick: Know for a fact that Aizawa would be the perfect friend in the situation. Since he is a pro hero and one that has a good sense of situations and what people have gone through, he would deal with this with the utmost delicacy. He will have your back constantly and make sure you know that you are valid no matter what that person did to you. He makes sure you know that and that you can talk to him at ANY time. Will also personally make sure that the person gets locked up for life and if not, he does believe in accidents for the better good if you catch my drift. Now on to the scenario.

This man has known that something has been going on with you for a while. Just the way you have been withdrawn more than recently has him worried. He does let you know that you can talk to him whenever and he would not judge you for anything, and of course, he is not surprised when you do not take up his offer. He has suspicions that it is something serious though so he may push on some days or back off completely on other days.

It is not until you break down crying and telling him what has happened and that the person who harmed you did some serious damage to you, does he get it. You were not only physically hurt, but you were emotionally and mentally hurt. Hearing this and finally understanding the severity of the situation… It was someone close to you. Someone you trusted.

It also makes sense to him why you waited to tell him. Women experiencing sexual abuse from someone they trusted… Well, it could be hard in general to bring it up to anyone, but you bringing it up to their hero male friend? He can imagine how nerve-wracking it could be. Imagine… and not know your true fear.

That alone doubles his anger in the situation. Aizawa however, is a rather calm man and you need it more than ever, so he lets you cry it all out and tell him everything. He lets you calm down as well before he goes over your options. He sets out on helping you get justice while being as cool-headed as possible.

Once all is done and said and the process of getting what you needed, that person paying for their crime, is when he goes beyond for you and makes sure you do not spiral into the bottomless pit that trauma can be and that most victims do fall too. He understands that it will be there, and you will have PTSD from it, but he will be there to be your rock.

He will validate all your feelings – especially the negative ones, promising you that they are all normal. He does give you a good amount of time to recover emotionally from everything before he gently ushers you back into your normal routine. There he knows, might be the most difficult part and he is patient for you. He lets you have space if you need it, reassurance when you need it, just everything to know that you are just as worthy as before it happened.

He helps you ease back into your everyday life and routine by joining you. He does not hover but is simply there just in case you need someone. Just a simple way of letting you know that he is there for you and will help you through this.

 Dabi (Todoroki Touya):

Bonus Headcanon: Okayyyy so let’s be honest here for a moment… Dabi is a villain and one with serious emotional apathy issues… So I imagine him hearing about this with someone he genuinely cares about would result in hurting that person that hurt them. Aka possible or definite murder. So, beware of that. Lol I think Dabi is neat. Anyway, because of his personal issues, if he has formed a connection with someone, he will take their issues very seriously as well. It is only right especially if they have done the same, he will also not back down on wanting to know what is up with them which leads us to the scenario.

The second Dabi set his eyes on you, he knew something was up. You, his best friend, were not the same bright woman who was almost always happy to see him. In fact… You may have forced a chirpy greeting to him, but he can see the nerves in you going crazy.

You are on edge, and since you have been such a good friend to him and vice versa, he does not like that. He has always made it clear you never have to be on edge around him. So he asks you immediately what the hell is wrong. No filter and with a serious gaze. It is that simple question that makes you spill. Especially since you know that he is a rather stubborn individual. So you tell him everything, on how someone you trusted and cared for has taken advantage of you. You don’t necessarily have to share all the details that make you sick to your stomach, because he gets the gist of it rather fast.

You can feel the heat from his quirk wanting to come out and fast. However, you are more surprised when he pulls you into a hug. Dabi does not hug people, so this is huge to you. You may feel bad, but you were honestly expecting him to tease you or say something vulgar but no, he is treating this seriously and that makes you feel a lot better.

After he makes sure that you are okay here and now, the first thing out of his mouth is asking who the hell did and where are they. Whether you tell him or not, he will find out who did that to you and where they are and with his connections with the League of Villains, he will hunt them down.

He may be a tad overprotective depending on how you are with handling this trauma. He does not leave your side, knowing himself how trauma can be. However, he does not push you to do your immediate routine. No, he is the one that lets you linger in bed all day if that is how you need to cope. He will just stick with you and make sure you get food in your stomach and stay hydrated.

He will turn into a huge couch potato and even watch the most feminine movies with you if that will make you feel better.

When you are ready to go back into your daily routine, he will be happy about it. Happy to know that you are feeling better enough to do the things you love to do or just your daily life. He is very encouraging and will hold back on any of his usual teasings until you initiate it. When he deems you fine, he will return to be the carefree Dabi and be less protective.

However, he does make sure that you are in terms of an A+ on your self-defense.

What he will not do while he is with you, is ask about what happened. He will let you talk on your own terms and will not push to know the details. He is more about avoidance if that is your way to go. Your trauma is yours, but he is there for you if you need it.

 Hawks (Takami Keigo):

Bonus Headcanon: Honestly, I think Keigo would be the one who wouldn’t suspect anything ONLY because of how busy his hero life is. He is very smart though, so he could figure it out fast and once he does, I imagine him acting in two ways: guilt for not knowing that his friend got hurt in a bad way, or being overprotective and trying to make up for it, possibly overbearing as well as justice-seeking for them.

“Hey, promise me you are okay?” Keigo asks giving puppy dog eyes to his best friend.

You smile. It reaches your eyes and he knows you mean it. “I promise I am okay as can be. Honestly, lately, I feel like you are the one that is not okay,” You admit.

Keigo flinches at this before nodding his head. He has been staying with you ever since he found out someone you trusted and cared for taking advantage of you. He seethed at first, demanding to find the person responsible and delivering his own personal justice if the commission would allow him until he remembered that it isn’t about what he wanted to do for you. It was about you and how you wanted to go on about your path for healing.

So, he did take a quick turn to just staying near you and always having his cellphone on when he was out doing hero work. He may be the Number Two hero know, but he has been trying to prioritize your friendship. With his workload, he tends to miss a lot, especially with how much work the commission gives him and expects of him which is why he has been acting out and asking if you are okay every so often.

You squeeze his hand, and he finally admits his guilt to you. “I am fine. I just feel awful that you couldn’t come tell me sooner. I would have dropped everything if you wanted to tell me. I-“

“That is exactly why I didn’t. You are a hero and a good one-“

“What hero can’t even protect his friends?” He asks a bit gloomy.

It is a new look on him. One you did not enjoy seeing so you smile. “Hey. I purposely didn’t tell you and it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you or anything. I do trust you. You are my best friend. It was my fault for not telling someone-“

“Do not ever blame yourself for what that scumbag did,” He states seriously.

You nod and continue, “What I mean to say is, you should not feel guilty either. It happened and it is in the past now. I am just grateful I have such a caring friend as you. You are really helping me know that I am loved and valued.”

Hearing that, he smiles and looks better. Your words do ring true as he recalls how the past few weeks of you telling him went. How he did find out who did it and what he has his fellow heroes do to make sure you got justice while he helped you. You were stuck in your home, living through nightmares, reliving that traumatic experience and he hated seeing you wake up crying. He used his past hero training to help you begin the healing process and now, he can see it is really paying off.

You have slowly started to go back to your daily life and though there have been some hiccups in that, it is progress, and he tells you even the smallest amount of progress is good for you. He is glad he could be there for you and help you heal because as his friend, you only deserve the best.

#softrozene writes #bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #dabi x reader #hawks x reader #fanfiction #scenarios #bnha fanfiction #bnha scenarios #comfort #platonic friendship #female reader

[ichor-and-symbiosis]

Spoiled. (Aizawa x f!Reader; NSFWish)

Commission for @whumperooni, thank you so much for your patience!

He smells you before he sees you. You are sure of it. Shouta can play hard to get all he wants. When the primal urge to be bred takes hold, your heady musk permeates every crevice of the apartment. It lingers like incense while you feverishly hunt down Shouta’s sweaty gym clothes to bolster your ever-growing nest of comforting items for when the heat truly renders you senseless.

Staying busy means staying sane. You frantically pace around the living room before your eyes settle on Shouta’s coat hung up on the rack. Wrapping yourself in the old fabric soothes you for a moment - until the dizzying scent of his pheromones begins to burn your lungs and sets your nerves on fire. The sudden sensation forces you to let go of the coat as you wobble and moan, clutching your head in your hands to keep yourself from palming at your soaked pussy. 

You can’t go on like this. Shouta needs to take responsibility for your needs. 

Your lustful fury gets you as far as opening the door to his study. Shouta merely covers the lower half of his face with his free hand while grading papers, pinching the bridge of his nose to assuage your onslaught of pheromones. His defiance should insult you, but the sight of his handsome rugged face concentrating on his work leaves a profound effect on you. He looks so attractive with his hair pulled back. Your fingers tingle with the need to feel those silky strands slip through your caress.

“I can’t concentrate with you stalking me in the doorway like that,” he drones, side-eyeing you as he quirks a brow. “Shirtless?” 

“I can’t wear a shirt, it hurts my nipples,” you whine, cupping your breasts and presenting the stiff buds for his viewing pleasure. “Please take care of me already, I can’t take it anymore!” 

“You’ll have to wait. I’m busy.”

“But my heat is starting and it’s only gonna get worse - “ 

“Suppressants are in the medicine cabinet.” 

You huff and pout at his stubbornness. “Shouta, stop being mean! You don’t need to grade that homework right this second. Don’t I smell good to you, baby?” 

He runs a hand through his hair as he sighs. “Your scent makes me want to fuck you until you can’t walk.” A whine escapes you immediately, and you shove a hand between your thighs without a care in the world for how ridiculous you look. Shouta’s eyes darken at the sight of your tits squished between your arms. 

You break through your lustful haze and take the opportunity to reel him in further. “Please, Shouta,” you softly say, so sweetly and with such tender yearning that it lights a spark of desire in his dark eyes. 

Shouta finally beckons you to him. He rises from his seat like he has all the time in the world, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms above his head as you come to stand beside him. Your fingers trail over his exposed abdomen for a moment before he snatches your hand away by the wrist. The hold is firm and commanding and you think you might die from this single expression of dominance. 

“Turn around and face the desk,” he instructs, spinning you for added measure in case you intended to be defiant again. 

Your stomach leans against the edge of his desk. Words on paper blur as you stare down at the source of your frustration. Shouta is not touching you anymore, and it sends your body into a frenzy. But his heat radiates along your back and his musk offers some sense of reassurance. Soon. You just have to endure this lesson in restraint. 

“Arms behind your back. Keep your wrists together.” 

You do as you are told, biting your lip to stifle any complaints while Shouta winds soft fabric around your elbows. Must be his capture weapon, you think, rubbing your thighs together as the firm pressure of the binds tighten around your skin. 

“Not too tight?” he asks.

“No, daddy.” 

The flutter that runs through you when his fingers touch your jaw is indescribable. You turn your head to look up at him, with wide and innocent eyes that drive Shouta wild. His stern gaze keeps you frozen in place as he tucks your hair behind your ear. “It’s sir, kitten.” You whimper when his fingers grip your chin. “You don’t call me daddy until I’ve bred you properly, understood?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Hmm.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “You’re more obedient than usual. My lovely girl wants it pretty bad, huh?” All you can do is nod and press yourself up against him. He allows it, hot hands running slowly up your sides as he stares down at you. His fingers pinch and tug on your sensitive nipples and you groan and shiver in anticipation.

“Get under the desk.”

You are on your knees in seconds. Shouta sits back down on his chair, scoots forward until your face is inches away from his crotch, and lowers his hand to pet your head. The caress feels so nice, so inviting, and you quickly lurch forward to start tonguing the fabric that hides his cock. But his fingers clamp down on your hair and tug you back. 

“I’ll give your pretty little mouth something to suck on while I work,” he murmurs. “Be patient.”

Before you have the chance to pout and whine, Shouta presents two thick fingers. The sound of writing silences any opposition. You wet your lips and press them to his fingertips. Your tongue peeks out for a quick lick, and the familiar masculine musk ignites your excitement anew. 

You close your eyes and get to moistening his fingers. The firmness, the thickness, the lovely taste sends your imagination spiraling. You trace every callus and scar and commit them to memory, yearning to feel their roughness on your sensitive body. Your lips kiss every inch of his fingers, even trailing along his knuckles, and when Shouta fidgets in his chair for a moment, your cunt throbs at his subtle break in self-discipline. 

The digits are warm and slick with your saliva, thoroughly ravaged by your hungry lips. You pop them into your mouth down to the first knuckle, puckering your soft lips around your prize. Your mind instantly conjures an innocent delusion - the taste and thickness reminds you of something else entirely.

Your toes curl in anticipation for what is to come later. The fantasy of his fat cock using your mouth for preparation makes you lewdly moan. You lick and suck his fingers as though it were his cock, slow and steady and making sure to hit the back of your throat without gagging. 

Shouta’s thighs are quivering. His breathing grows ragged and loud, and you can’t help imagining him panting and huffing and thrusting into you. Hips shift upward in time with your lips pulling away from his fingers. One kitty lick at his fingertips is all it takes for Shouta to pull away, to quickly throw his chair back and drag you out from beneath his desk. 

His lips are on yours before you can react to his rough handling. The thrill of having your hands tied while he grips you tightly against his heaving chest shoots a wave of dizzying euphoria through your addled mind. Your body lies limp in his hold, fully trusting your alpha’s desperation, and you nip and lick at his lips with needy moans until Shouta pulls back a hair's breadth away, one hand firmly wrapped around the hair at the nape of your neck as his wettened fingers seek out your drenched folds. 

“You are such a spoiled princess,” he breaths.

You smile, peck his soft lips, and Shouta whisks you off your feet without another glance at his workload. 

Spoiled princesses need to be dealt with in short order.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa/reader #aizawa shouta/reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa

[lixis-sin-cauldron]

Father Figure: Punishment [Eraser Head | Shouta Aizawa]

Rating: Explicit 18+ content MINORS DNI. Pairing: Shouta Aizawa (Eraser Head) X fem!reader Word Count: 4.4k Kinks and Warnings: noncon, pseudo-incest, slight somno, vaginal fingering, oral, vaginal sex, unsafe sex, creampie, abuse of trust, restraints, everything bad. Seriously. Aizawa is not a good dude in this.

Summary: Aizawa had taken you in and raised you, loved you. Fought off his urges for so long, but when he found out who you were hanging out with he couldn't control his anger. You just didn't get why he was upset, no matter how hard he tried to explain. If you refused to listen, to understand; he'd have to punish you until you did.

Notes: This fic was inspired by @shorkbrian​’s Aizawa fics – Father Figure part 1 and 2. Written with permission as a kind of 1.5 of what the first time Aizawa forced his stepdaughter was like. For an overall understanding of what the story between Aizawa and the reader is please read at least part one first, though it was the paragraph about the scene in part two that made me want to write this.

Links to the fics are here: Part One and Part Two

Can also be read on Ao3 here: Father Figure: Punishment Big thank you to the @dymphnasprose​ for beta reading this.

By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are actively consenting to see adult, and possibly disturbing, content; and in doing so, saying that you are of an age to see it, and that you’re emotionally capable of handling it. The tags and warnings there to ensure you are fully aware of what content you will encounter before reading, if you proceed knowing something will upset you - you did that to yourself and that is not my responsibility. [further info on this concept here] [and here] [and here]

It was a slow boil at first, Aizawa’s anger, since he wasn’t a man who got angry easily. Yet, when he saw you get out of the car after a day out, saw the ‘friends’ you’d spent the day with, saw you hug those boys goodbye. That they dare ever touch his daughter – well, he felt fury at that moment, barely restrained when you walked into the house.

He tried to make you understand. See how stupid and dangerous it was to be alone with them, how upset he was that you had kept the fact you had male friends secret from him. Even if you were grown up now, you were still weak and so innocent to how men think. You just didn’t get it, how much he worried about you.

How much he loved you.

His fingers tapped in an unsteady rhythm against the wood of his desk while he tried to calm down in his study. Tried to control himself like always did when it involved how he felt about you, but the fire inside was raging and refused to quiet.

How could you not tell him who you were with? Surround yourself with those beasts? He could still smell their stench on you after they hugged you.

A dark thought came to him, what if they had already had you? Spoiled you?

No, no. He knew that wasn’t possible. Not yet, you still felt the same. He would know, he could feel it. You were still pure, untouched… but for how much longer? How long until one or more of them thought they could try to taint you?

You were his baby girl, his darling. It was Aizawa who had taken you into his home. It was him who had raised you, taught you, cared for you like no one else ever could. He loved you more than air itself. After all he had done, he had earned you.

He had earned you.

He finally boiled over, standing so suddenly that his chair toppled over and clattered to the ground. If you wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t see he was right about those boys…

He’d make you understand.

You looked so angelic, nestled into piles of blankets on your bed in nothing but a nightshirt and panties; your chest raising up and down gently as you slept. His own chest swelled with love at the sight, wanting to slip in beside you and take you in his arms – it was one of his favorite things to do with you, napping together. Feeling your soft curves as he held you, your cute little ass pressing against him.

The fact you had never even noticed the hard-on he hid during those naps showed just how naïve you were to the world of men.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, heavy with sleep, as you felt your body shift and arms move. Aizawa came into focus, confusion at the sight of the man you called your stepfather.

“D-dad?” You muttered as you registered the man hovering over you. Your confusion slipped into panic as you noticed the tight grip he had on your wrists, wincing at the pain that came as he pressed them together against your headboard with one hand. “Dad! What-what are you doing?” you cried, struggling against the tight hold.

He shushed you, “It’s okay, sweetheart.” He purred, brushing away a few strands of hair that had clung to your lips in your sleep.

“Let go!” You were screaming now, twisting and turning in his hold. You tried to kick at him, but he was sitting on your waist, locking you in place so only the lower parts of your legs could flail around, failing to reach him.

“I’m almost done.”

You felt a soft material brush against your tender wrists, wrapping around them. You look up, trying to make out what it was in the darkness of the room. The shape of a long cord came into focus as your eyes adjusted to the dark, binding your wrists to one of the thick poles that decorate your headboard.

The binding tightened against your skin as Aizawa pulled it into a knot, locking your hands in place above you.

“Stop! Let me go!” You demanded again, trying to wrench your hands free.

“Stop,” he growled, grabbing your cheeks rough, forcing you to settle your gaze on him, “It’s just me, baby girl. Just Daddy.” He cooed; his harsh tone having disappeared as quickly as it came.

“W-why are you-? What are you doing?”

“As much as I want to feel your arms around me, I know it will be easier for both of us like this. I promise I’ll untie you when we’re done.”

“D-done? What are you talking about, what are you going to do?”

“I tried to make you understand before, but you just wouldn’t listen.” He shook his head; hand sliding from your face.

“This is about earlier? A-about my friends? I told you-”

“Just because you think you know them; doesn’t mean you do. I won’t let them taint you. I love you too much to let that happen.” He stroked your cheek gently as he spoke, a loving smile on his lips as he stared at you.

“I-I l-love you too, Dad. I’m sorry I upset you. I promise I’ll be careful around them and-”

“You don’t understand,” he growled again, shaking his head angrily, “but that’s okay. You don’t have to. I’m going to take care of you, that’s what Daddies do. They take care of their little girls.”

“You’re scaring me!” you cried, tears coming to your eyes as you started struggling against the weight of him on top of you, trying to throw him off.

A soft groan from him caused you to freeze, feeling something hard against your hips where he sat. “D-dad?” you whimpered.

His eyes were closed as he sighed through parted lips, slowly opening them and giving you a sweet smile as he came back from whatever headspace he had been in as you had struggled under him, “Nothing to worry about, Baby,” his placed his hands on your sides, fingers slipping under the fabric of your nightshirt, “I know this can be a scary thing, but I promise to make you feel so good. I’ll take my time with you, show you how much I love you.”

“N-no, d-don’t touch me.” You begged, trying to pull away from the touch, retreating into your bed to no avail.

His course hands glided up, dragging the shirt as he moved and exposing your skin. As he reached the soft mounds hidden beneath he pulled the shirt over them to bring them to view. He let out a long sigh at the sight.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect. Such cute, perky breasts.” He trailed a finger over a nipple, circling it.

“No, no, no,” you whimpered, deep sobs breaking between each rendition of the word, “please, no.”

Aizawa paused, bringing his hand to your face and brushing away tears from your cheek gently with his thumb, “Crocodile tears have never worked on me, remember? I know you don’t want to be in trouble, but this needs to happen. You need to understand. I’m the only one who really loves you, who has been there for you forever. The only man you’ll ever need.” He pressed his lips to yours as he finished speaking.

You bit him.

He reeled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and glancing to see if there was blood. There wasn’t but his lip throbbed from the attempt. He glared at you before slamming his palm into your shoulder and pressing you into the mattress.

Your head bobbed violently with the impact despite the pillow you rested on, mind swirling as you tried to regain your senses.

Aizawa sighed, eyes shut tight as he calmed himself.

“No more tantrums, sweetheart,” he cooed at her with a smile, calm once again, “if you keep acting up like this, I’ll have to take drastic steps to make sure you behave. Understand?”

Your Father had never been a violent man, all you had were happy memories of him but in this moment, seeing that twisted smile, your body was overcome with terror at just what he would do to you if you tried anything else.

“Yes.” Your reply was a whisper, barely audible.

“That’s my girl.” He kissed you again, mouth eagerly taking yours. You were as still as a rock at the touch.

His mouth drifted downwards, light kisses against your neck as he traveled.

Hiccups mixed into your sobs as they started again, realizing what he was doing – where he was going.

His journey took him exactly where you predicted, his scruffy chin rubbing against the soft flesh of your breast. You squirmed involuntarily at the feel of his breath on your nipple but remained in place from his hand still pressing into your shoulder.

You gave a whimper as he took the soft peak into his mouth; suck at it delicately, rolling his tongue around it. His free hand took perch on the other breast, kneading it and rolling the unattended nipple between his fingers.

A struggled gasp came from you at the stimulation. He hummed happily at the sound, blowing lightly and causing the point to tighten and become erect. He shifted his focus, taking the first breast in his hand after removing it from your shoulder and drawing the previously neglected one into his mouth to taste as well.

He remained like that for a short time, making sure to keep his attention balanced between the two; suckling and massaging. He ignored the soft sobs you emitted, the pleas and refusals, and instead enjoyed the shivers that he caused your body to have.

You didn’t want to feel the things he was doing, the strange ache at your core that Aizawa’s actions were building inside you. You hated it, you wanted to scream but didn’t, fearful of what he may do if you did.

He moaned, rubbing his cheek again one breast as he finally relented and took a deep breath, drawing in your scent. “See, Baby? See how good Daddy can make you feel? I’m the only one who can make you feel like this, because of how much I love you.”

“Y-yes, D-dad, I understand. Ar-are we done?” You sniffed, lips quivering as you spoke.

He gave a chuckle at that, “Of course not. I’m just getting started, sweetie. I’m so excited,” he started his soft pecks on your flesh again, starting between your breasts and trailing downwards along your stomach, “I’ve wanted to taste you for so, so long and now I get to.” He slid from his seat atop you, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear.

Legs suddenly free, you felt a new burst of energy and started kicking at him. It was a futile effort, he grabbed your thrashing limbs easily, holding them tightly in his strong grip and pressing them down so they laid flat.

You whimpered at the tight grip as he pressed into you.

“Now, now,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice as he stared you down, “I know you're nervous – I am too – but don’t be a brat or I may hurt you by mistake. You don’t want me to hurt you, do you? All I want is to make you feel good, make you realize Daddy is the only one you need in your life.”

The hand drifted away from your legs, hovering to see if you would act out again. You remained still, trembling as you looked away and buried your face into the curve of your arm, not wanting to see what else he planned to do.

He wouldn’t even let you have that small relief, pulling you back to face him, “Such a shy thing, but I want to see your face so don’t look away again.” No request of confirmation this time, just the threat of what would happen if you disobeyed him anymore.

Returning to the panties, he slid them off slowly, twisting them down your legs despite you pinning them together tightly in a last play of resistance. You gagged as you watched him bring the cloth to his nose, taking a long inhale and let out a staggered sigh. He stuffed the undies into his pocket carefully when he finished. You didn’t want to know why.

He didn’t seem to mind the way you pressed your legs together, simply pushing his hands between your knees and easily parting them with disciplined strength. His happy look faded as his eyes fell between your legs.

“Who?” He growled, seeing the hairless plain of your pussy.

“W-what?”

“Who the fuck are you making yourself so neat and clean for?” His voice was a controlled shout, but his eyes were full of rage that made you shrink.

“N-no one, I- I- I just like it like that-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He snapped, knowing your tells all too well, “Is it one of those boys from before? Have you let someone else see you? Touch you?”

The venom in the words sent renewed terror through you. What would he do if he thought you had been with someone else?

“No! No!” You screamed, “He hasn’t-”

“So, there is a boy.”

You had slipped up, said more than you meant to. “Y-yes,” you hiccupped, “b-but w-we haven’t… h-he hasn’t seen…”

He relaxed; knowing you were telling the truth as you trembled beneath him. His hand returned to your face, wiping away the tears and snot that dribbled down it, “Good. That’s good.” He praised, petting you softly before returning his focus to lower parts.

Aizawa tilted his head as his eyes studied you, a smirk slipping back to his face, “I like this, now that I know it’s something only I get to see.” A finger ran along the clean scape, dancing along the skin back and forth between your thighs, leaving goosebumps where he touched.

He moved, pulling your legs apart further and positioning himself between them, resting one over his shoulder. He easily slipped a finger between your folds with one hand while the other gripped your leg tightly in place over him, bracing you as you wiggled from the touch of him in your most intimate place.

“So pretty,” he purred, spreading your lips apart so he could see the silkiness inside. He sighed at the pure, untainted look of you, “Look at how eager you are to be played with.” His tongue ran up and along the part, causing you to cry out.

“No, no, please, no – Dad, please – don’t do this. Please.”

The words fell on deaf ears as he continued, savoring the taste of you as he explored further with his tongue, finding the cute nub under its hood at the top of your slit. It throbbed, reacting to the stimulation he had been forcing on your body. He twirled around it, watching you with dark eyes as you squirmed at the sensation.

He drew the nub into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, causing a loud moan to escape you as he worked it. He pulled back his head and released it, a pop emitting as he did so, “That’s right Baby, just relax into it.”

Before you could reply, denying the enjoyment and that the noise had just involuntarily come from you, he returned to the mound and began nursing at it, making your words cut before they even began as you whimpered and whined, fidgeting in his hold as he worked.

It became more difficult for you to hold back the noises as he intensified his focus, a finger slipping into you, massaging your insides; curling and twisting to find the points that caused the most response out of you. A slippery, squishy sound filling the darkroom as he sucked at and slipped in and out of you, mixed with your struggled moans, hiccups, and sobs.

As you became wetter, he slid another finger inside – relishing the gasp that came from you as he did so. He spread the two inside you wide, pushing against your velvet walls and stretching you. Working you as he twisted them, loosening the tight space in preparation. As he massaged you, he felt the walls constrict around his fingers, pressing them closed as you tightened with the orgasm.

He sucked at you eagerly as you came, tongue gliding along your opening and lapping up the juices while steadying you as your back arched and toes curled with the intense phenomenon.

Finally relenting, he let your leg fall to his side; straightening himself so he could take in the full view of you as you quivered, your hands locked in a death grip around the pole of the headboard that you were tied to, eyes glossy and wide as you tried to regain your senses.

“See? That’s how much Daddy cares for you. No immature boy would be so meticulous with you, making sure you were nice and ready for him before they rutted into you like some wild animal. No, a real man – one who loves you, like me - takes his time. Aren’t you glad that you don’t have to worry about anything, knowing Daddy will take care of his little girl?”

You gave no reply, just staring at him as you tried to understand why this was happening, your tears and sobs having stopped as your mind realized they were useless.

“Let’s clean you up,” he fussed, taking his shirt and sliding it off. First, he wiped his own face, then ran the fabric over your cheeks, clearing away the dry tears and mucus before finally wiping it gently over your inner thighs. “Look at you… so beautiful.” He stared at you longingly, taking in your disheveled form.

He brushed away the hair that had fallen over your face before taking your chin in his hand and leaning down for a kiss. It wasn’t a simple one this time either; his lips parted, pulling yours apart with them. His tongue slithered in, finding yours and twisting around it, sucking at it.

You tried not to think about the fact you could taste yourself.

“Let’s see…” Aizawa hummed, eyes studying you carefully after he withdrew.

You let your head fall back into the pillow, eyes to the ceiling as he contemplated. Hoping he was finally done.

“Ah, yes.” He lifted your hips, taking another pillow from elsewhere on the bed and sliding under you.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked, confused by the action.

He nodded, understanding the confusion, “A logical question. You see, it's important to elevate the hips, that way it's easier to move. Makes everything feel better.”

“F-feel better? What- Aren’t you done?”

“Of course not,” he purred, rubbing your thigh up and down, “I told you, sweetie, I’m not going to let anyone else have you. Your first time is supposed to be special, with someone you love and who loves you. Some hormonal boy would never be good enough for you.” He worked at his waist, unbuttoning it and sliding the zipper down as he spoke.

Your eyes went wide, and you started scooting away from him, “No, no, no – you can’t – this is-”

He held you in place, your legs spread open around his, “Now, none of that. I’ve told you plenty of times already. If you had just listened to me and stayed away from those animals… well, we’re past that now.”

He tugged the pants down, boxers with them, and took his dick in hand; stroking it as his eyes traveled along your exposed body, “I’ve dreamed of this for so long, held myself back – but you had to act up, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, looking away from him, not wanting to see him stroke himself or the raging hard-on he had.

“Don’t look away, remember?” He growled.

Your eyes snapped back to him, locking to his to both fulfill the command and do your best to avoid the rest of him.

“Good girl.”

“Please, Dad, please. I’m your daughter, remember? You-”

“You’re right,” he nodded in agreement. You started to smile, thinking you had gotten through, then he continued, “You’re my little girl. That means no one else gets to touch you, but me.” He growled, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked pussy.

You tried pleading more, screaming and begging him to stop, but those went silent with a whimper as he pressed inside you. At first, just the head entered, slow and steady, but the moment you enveloped him he lost the control he had and thrust hard, shoving every inch of him as deep as he could.

A slow exhale slipped between his parted lips as he felt you encompass him. “Finally…” he whispered, eyelids fluttering as he rested inside you. He gave a blissful smile, “See, baby? See how well you take me? It’s like you were made for me. It feels amazing, doesn’t it?” He seemed not to notice or care that you were shaking, your nails digging into the wood of the headboard as your body quivered at the sudden invasion.

He started rocking gently, hips slow as he moved. As he did, he continued to ramble; praising you and calling you his little girl, saying how good you felt. How he shouldn’t have waited so long for something you both wanted.

The gentle words turned to growls and harsh words as he started moving faster, the bed started to shake as he did. He went on and on about how you belonged to him and how dare some children think they could take you from him. That you just had to provoke him, make him act out, and have to punish you like this.

“Move your hips, sweetheart, it will make it feel even better.” He commanded, taking your hips in hand rocking him in time with his thrusts.

At first, you hated it, knowing he was right about how it did feel better. How with each plunge into you he did, the better you felt. Yet, as it continued, you fell into the feeling, letting it envelop you and help you slip away from the reality of what was happening.

He noticed. He noticed your muscles relaxed, your moans get louder as you took over from his guidance and rocked with him on your own.

“Yes, baby, just like that.” He growled in ecstasy, his arms wrapping around your body as he buried his face into your chest. He started pressing deeper, harder. Jack-rabbiting into you over and over, the pressure causing you to bounce against the mattress and press back into him, forcing cries and moans from you as you were overcome with the reactions he caused.

“That’s right, come for Daddy,” he purred, feeling you clench his cock tighter as you reached another peak. He slipped a hand down between your legs, his fingers rolling your clit to edge you closer.

You screamed as the wave rushed through you, the headboard rattling in your grip as you shook.

Aizawa didn’t slow despite this, pushing through the tightness of you and pounding into you further. Crying your name, praising you, and fawning over how amazing you felt.

You weren’t sure how long it kept going; time lost as he rocked in and out of you, playing with you and pushing you to orgasm again and again. Soon enough all that came from you whimpering moans as he continued, bringing you to another edge.

“Yes, yes, that’s my girl, come with me,” he moaned from his current position over you, your legs held around his waist as he sat on his legs and pumped into you.

He was finally going to finish, you realized. Thankful that it would soon end but then you considered what that meant.

“W-wait,” you stuttered, trying to remember how to speak, “don’t-” your words cut as he arched his back, rutting deeply into you and knocking the wind from your lungs.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to pull out. It’s our first time, I’m not wasting a single moment.” He stated, seeming to understand your intent but misinterpreting, as always, into what he wanted.

“No, no. Please, Daddy-” you begged as you felt your climax roll through you.

Aizawa reached his peak too, your calling out to him like that pushing him over his edge while you squeezed around him. He grunted, pressing as deeply inside of you as he could as he filled you. He rocked gently, forcing out what was left from the initial surge. Then he was still, his head hanging as it swayed back and forth. He set your legs down gently on the bed, releasing his hold on them.

Despite his warnings, you buried your face back into your arm, trying not to think about what he had just done - not wanting to be lucid enough yet to believe everything that was happening. You whimpered as he withdrew and tried pressing your legs shut in response, but he stopped you, holding them open.

Aizawa smiled, watching as your pussy pulsed and the thick, white liquid dribbled out of the tight little hole he had just been inside. Reaching into the pocket of his pants as they rested around his knees and he pulled out his phone, blinking at the bright light as it turned on before pressing the camera app and aiming at the sight before him.

“Look, see how amazing you made me feel?” He asked, shifting to lay beside her and showing her the photo he had taken.

You didn’t want to look but knew he would force you if you didn’t. You had thought your tears all dried up, but seeing the photo, you started crying again.

“Shhh. Shhh, it’s okay. I know, I know,” he cooed, setting the device down and petting your hair gently.

As he comforted you, he untied the binding of your wrists and let them fall. You didn’t try moving despite the freedom and just remained limp as he drew you into a loving embrace. “I know, the first time is overwhelming. So many new sensations, but Daddy made sure you were ready and took as much time as I could. That’s how much I love you, I wanted your first to feel amazing. The next time will feel even better as your body learns to work with me.” He rubbed a cheek against your hair as he spoke.

You trembled at the words he had spoken, the implications. You wanted to run, but you had nothing left so you just laid there in his embrace, dead-eyed as he continued whispering sweet nothings to you.

——Tag List ——

(Please check this post if you would like to be included!)

@underratedmage​ @tomurasprincess​ @elektraeriseros​ @lilleeboi​ @smolladyy​

#aizawa #yandere aizawa #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #mha #bnha #dark content #tw:incest #somno #abuse of trust #yandere #please advise me if i miss an important tag or tw #shorkbrian #sin #stepfather #stepdaughter #dont forget a reblog brings a smile to a face

[burnedbyshoto]

I really hate you

— Shinsou knows he shouldn’t trust villains. Especially villains who make his mind spin and stomach twist in joy. But there’s something about you that keeps him coming back for more.

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pairing: pro hero!shinsou hitoshi x villain fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, a little bit of juicy plot, pro hero!au, reader is a villain, betrayal, biting, marking, collaring, cursing, hate sex, rooftop sex, body liquids, angst

word count: 8,180

a/n: i like deception :) being a chem TA is pretty fun, except when im in lab for 8 am until 4 pm. listen,,, I also really liked this prompt I made last night because the one I had before wasn’t spicy enough for me anymore. I hope you enjoy though! like comment and share for the algorithm (jk been watching too many tikytokys)

kinktober day 8 main kink: collaring

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When the sun sets, and the moon is high in the sky, and the chill of the bitter cold winds raise ceaseless goosebumps on your arms, and the only people who are up are drunken businessmen and tiresome students, it is a common belief that this is when the freaks come out.

The freaks come out to play at night.

You are one of these freaks.

Heh.

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Shinsou nodded at his friends as he walked through the doors of the agency he worked at. Despite the power of his quirks ability, he was an underground hero (unless the ultra-rare occasion where they needed his quirk in the limelight); he was stationed within a large, well-known agency and was one of the founding heroes there at that. His ability to be hidden from the bright lights of the world were both easy and challenging; most of the world knew him as the kid from UA’s Sports Festival that went toe to toe with nearing number one Pro-Hero Deku. It both irked and embarrassed him when that event was brought up; on the one hand, it was true! He had nearly beat Midoriya during that final stage. Yet, on the other hand, their memories seemed to recall some crazy quirk-fueled fistfight where Midoriya had broken his entire body in the duration of their fight. 

‘No,’ he often found himself responding back to the gentlemen and ladies who would awe at his school-day adventures, ‘there was a fistfight, but Midoriya handled it without using his quirk except to snap him out of my quirk.’

They always looked embarrassingly horrified by their faulty memory when they pulled the clip up on Youtube, their bows quick in apology before they made off. 

But people recognizing him from that was rare as it gets, fortunately even with the large agency stapled to his alias, he was quite good at his job—a shadow in the night, an urgent whisper to the villain freaks who roamed the night.

“Ah, Shinsou-chan!” Kaminari pouted, his body draping over his purple-haired friend as Shinsou moved to change from his regular clothes into the black triple-weave kevlar of his hero suit. He had once sported a black cotton-like costume akin to Aizawa, but after many, many gun shootings and stabbing incidents, he figured he needed something sturdier. 

“What is it?” he asked, rising up from his bent position so that Kaminari couldn’t take advantage of his slouched form. 

Shinsou’s tired, purple eyes met the exhausted pair of Kaminari.

“Today was so hard,” Kaminari sighed, his lip still put into the stupid pout, and he slumped onto the bench behind Shinsou. His feet were spread before him, fingers drumming onto his directional equipment. “Since it’s winter, the night comes sooo much earlier now. I swear some weirdos really appear out of the woodworks when the night comes! Like just before I was going to make my way back here, I swear I saw Aizawa-sensei hanging out on the rooftops like some super-secret ninja, right?”

Shinsou frowned. He knew his mentor turned friend was actually on vacation at the moment in Hawaii. Something he thought, at the very least, was long overdue. 

“Aizawa is in Hawaii right now,” Shinsou quickly spoke, his hands buckling the belt on his pants, before moving to lace up his boots. 

“Oh fuck, I told Todoroki he was in Seoul,” Kaminari cursed, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead. 

“Good going, who knows what weird message or gift he’ll end up sending to Aizawa now,” Shinsou couldn’t help the small smirk from spreading on his face at that note.

After being accepted into the Hero Course over in UA, Shinsou couldn’t help but be initially disappointed when he was placed within Class 1-B — Class 2-B at that point — simply because his mentor was with Class 1-A. The initial disappointment didn’t last very long when he got to know the rest of Class 2-B better, and he saw that while 2-A possessed raw talent, 2-B were more well-defined with a much bigger take-no-shit mentality that he appreciated more. That and 2-A were being strangled by a new villain of the month far too often, and Shinsou just wanted nothing more than to graduate from high school. 

Still, his lack of enrollment in Class 2-A didn’t mean that he didn’t see the rambunctious, nearly intolerable group of twenty in class 2-A. As a matter of fact, he thought he saw them a bit more than he’d like. Aizawa was his mentor, so he understood seeing him around, but for some reason, 2-A was never too far away. As soon as Shinsou was admitted into the Hero Course and the two hero classes had weekly meals together, which meant that to him, just the slightest bit, 2-A felt like an unwanted, annoying, ugly stepchild.

So no, Shinsou could not tell you 2-A’s inside class jokes, but he knew a lot more about the forty other hero students than he’d ever like to admit. 

And through his knowledge, he knew that the ever so powerful Todoroki Shouto was an idiot, probably a bigger one than Kaminari.

“I hate that you call Aizawa-sensei just…” Kaminari trailed off, a disgusted shiver running down his spine as if it sickened him to remove the single formality.

“Aizawa,” Shinsou said once more.

“Stop.”

“Aizawa.”

“Hitoshi!”

“Aizawa.”

“PLEASE!”

“Shouta.”

Kaminari hit the floor, his chest heaving with fake, bitter sobs while Shinsou couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of his over-dramatic friend on the ground. He had to admit, Shouta felt weird on his tongue too.

“Stop making a huge deal about how Aizawa and I are closer than you are,” Shinsou half-joked half-told-the-truth.

He was more than well aware of his mentor’s former students trying to become even closer to their beloved homeroom teacher. All doing it in their own ways, all relatively unsuccessful because unknown to them (but not Shinsou), Aizawa already loved them all thoroughly, not that he’ll ever tell them.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO SHAVE OFF MITTENS FUR!”

Oh yeah, that had lost a lot of love points for Kaminari.

Sighing softly, Shinsou placed his newly replaced coiled capturing weapon around his shoulders, and his artificial vocal cords mask onto his chest until he was off on patrol.

“Why’d you think you saw Aizawa?” he asked again, trying to finish the conversation so that he could leave. It felt like it was going to be a long night if Kaminari confirmed where his thoughts were already trailing. 

“Hm?” Kaminari finally looked up from his puddle of tears on the floor, tears streaking all over his face, small charges of electricity humming off it. He blinked once, twice, his eyes shooting to the ceiling as if the answer was there before his fist came down to hit his open palm in a flash of realization. “Oh, I remember! There was this person, obviously not Aizawa-sensei, standing by the edge of a building watching everyone below. Hair whipping in the wind and his capturing weapon fluttering around them!”

Just as Shinsou thought.

“Where did you see her?”

“Her?!”

“Where, Kaminari?”

“Uh… well, I guess by Gramps convenience store. Don’t tell me this is some super sexy megafan of yours! Wait… do tell me, or… no, I’ll get jealous if you’re having rooftop sex with — eh?! where are you going?! Hitoshi?!”

“My shift started two minutes ago,” Shinsou explained, one of his hands lifting in a wave as he exited the locker room, his heart hammering quickly, knowing just who he was going to need to track down tonight.

…

..

.

It was dark.

Shinsou’s eyes squinting as he hopped from one rooftop onto the other, his capturing device assisting him in clearing the dooming crevice. He wasn’t exactly the most physically threatening, and unfortunately, that also meant he wasn’t exactly the greatest at parkour type movements, although he was getting better. Maybe had he started to ask for earlier shifts, where he would be out when the sun was, he could get better faster.

It was tricky with only the moonlight to guide him, but that’s what he could get at the moment.

As he scuffled through the gravel rooftop of one of the abandoned buildings, Shinsou found himself squinting at the figure in the distance. The one perched near what Kaminari oh so fondly refers to as Gramps convenience store.

He studied the form of the picture still person, noticing if it wasn’t for the slight wind through your hair and twisting capturing weapon around your neck, he would think you’re a statue. But he knows better now, he’s known better for quite some time now. 

“What’re you doing out here, y/l/n?” Shinsou found himself speaking the moment he stepped behind you, hands shoving into his pant pockets.

You didn’t move, nor did you respond, your body still completely still while peering down at the empty world fascinated on who knows what.

“Y/l—”

“How can I help ya, Mindjack-senpai?” you interrupted him, your gaze still not removed from the world below the building. “I hear it’s supposed to be a busy night tonight.”

Shinsou paused, his brows scrunching at your words.

It was plain to see to Heroes that you were a villain, you did what you wanted when you wanted, whatever the price, but if there was one thing Shinsou had learned with this rather weird cat and mouse game the two of you played time and time again was that you didn’t lie. 

What was happening?

“A busy night?” Shinsou questioned, his quirk still unactivated, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to Brainwash an answer out of you anyways. “Where at?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Hero?” you teased slowly, and Shinsou had to deny the way that the way your head finally turned to lock eyes with his made his stomach clench.

It meant nothing.

Nothing at all.

“You know what happens when you slight me,” Shinsou couldn’t help but warn, the bandages on his neck rising under his command. But your eyes blinked slowly, lips spreading into a lazy, cunning smile.

“And you know what happens when you underestimate me,” you returned, fingers gliding against his old weapon — yes, old weapon. Just two months ago, just before your last arrest, you had viciously stolen it from him, your foot crushing his vocal cords while you managed to pry the weapon from his broken fingers. “Anyways, Mindjack-senpai, it’s a bit unethical of you, a hero, to be threatening me in such a way! I’m just a poor girl waiting for the love of my life to show up.”

“And have they?”

You blink, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you nod, “I got him right where I want him.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Shinsou snapped despite the lick of warmth against his chest and cheeks. “I’ll have you arrested again.”

Now, this has you turning from the edge of the building, you sit on the ledge of the building, fingers supporting your head as you stare at him without fear. Shinsou really fucking hated how fast you riled him up.

“Arrested? But Mr. Mindjack-senpai, didn’t you know?” you ask, the taunt evident in your voice, the twinkle in your eye devastatingly bright. “I’m a changed woman. I’m what you call a hero now. You wouldn’t arrest an innocent heroine, could you?”

“You’re hardly innocent,” Shinsou responded back smoothly and deftly, not at all yet entirely impressed by you. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

He blamed his deep impressions of you on the stupid black and purple attire you wore.

“Well, you know as well as I do that I just got out, but I feel like except what happened two days ago, I’ve really changed,” you emptily promise, pushing off the ledge, sauntering closer to Shinsou until he felt the tip of your nose brush against his. “I’ll make sure to think about you whenever… bad feelings come up.”

He prays you don’t see the scarlet flush on his face.

You’re already back at the ledge when he blinks, and he watches you raise two fingers to your temple in a mock salute as you wink at him.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but two blocks east, seven blocks south from the heart of Tokyo is where you’ll find trouble,” you inform him, dropping the salute as you turn to run.

But Shinsou wants his damn weapon back.

“Y/l/n, wait!”

“Yes—?”

You froze at the ledge, your eyes spacing out, and Shinsou sighed, moving to collect his weapon from you until you suddenly dove off the building, a burst of cheerful laughter on your tongue.

“Oh, I forgot to tell ya!” you screamed from the next building over, your fingers threading through the alloy metal cloths. “I got some earbuds just for when you’re around! They make your voice into electrical signals just for me! So guess what?!”

Shinsou didn’t need you to complete that sentence in order for him to realize what you had just gotten your hands onto.

As long as you wore those, his quirk was useless against you.

Despite knowing that a villain held the key to his demise as a hero, he chuckled, running a hand through his short purple hair.

You really were something.

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Shinsou never took himself as an especially suspicious person.

He figured he had days where he was suspicious of some people the correct amount, especially when they had the most painted on emotions he’s ever seen. Some days he was overly trusting and blamed tight smiles on something acute to nerves. Without meaning to brag, he felt like he was healthily suspicious of people, unlike others he knew who wouldn’t dare to interact with anyone new or would spill their darkest secret to anyone who would listen.

But there was something entirely, conspicuously suspicious with how you were behaving.

Winter had long passed, the long winter nights and graveyard shifts of endless freak encounters had worn a hole in his patience and boots. The spring season was beginning to end, and the warm days and nights of summer were setting on his skin.

Six full months of you, the first-ever villain he had fought as a Pro Hero, the first-ever villain to have openly flirted with him and to have him flirt back, being suspiciously… kind. 

Every shift of his, he would find you waiting for him on one of the regular rooftops. Every time he would check in with the database to make sure you weren’t wanted for some crime to find that you were innocent. Every time he would feel pissed off because you wore those earbuds that rendered his quirk useless and you somehow mastered the capturing weapon within weeks.

Now Shinsou didn’t pout, he really didn’t, but there were moments where you would appear from behind him, finger swiping down his spine as you effortlessly twirled around him, a stupid sly grin on your face as you held onto the collar of his hero costume.

“Don’t pout, Mindjack-senpai, I’m here now,” you’d purr each and every time.

He loved the dangerous purr to your voice, the way your eyes hooded over, peering at him through your eyelashes, but he knew better. He had to know better. It wasn’t that villains were terrible people per se; he’d learned a lot of villains were just thoroughly sick of being mistreated (and he had wondered what would have happened if he had been denied from UA… would he be one?). He knew that for the most part, you were quite harmless, merely sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, living a life to your personal laws and rules.

It didn’t make you evil, merely dangerous.

But he had a job to do where even if it was justifiable to beat the ever-living shit out of your sister's abuser, nearly murdering him in rage and refusing to calm down when Shinsou had arrived on the scene with the use of his quirk didn't hold up well in court. It had started this long chain of events where you had absolutely hated him for a time as you were forced to stay overnight in a jailhouse. And many horrible days afterward where you performed what Shinsou had thought to be illegal actions only to find that no, they weren’t. As a matter of fact, entirely legal because Japan had yet to update their codes. 

Long after he had discovered this, you had returned to actual crime, your physical ability growing by leaps and bounds as he ran after you after catching you doing something dangerously illegal. Shinsou was a proud hero and was incredibly proud of the impact he made as a Pro Hero, but it was clear as day, even to him, that he often let you slip through his fingers. Like a child opening their cupped fingers and wondering why the water had left.

He wasn’t sure what it was about you that made him act this way, but he certainly didn’t wish to find out.

“So what’s on the schedule today, Mindjack-senpai?” you asked, appearing from the shadows of the rooftop, not scaring Shinsou in the slightest as this was always where you greeted him. “Are we saving the Prime Minister today? Stealing — I mean, protecting those stupid bedazzled eggs in the museum? Perhaps solving an unsolvable case?”

“Smooth,” Shinsou snarked, his tired purple eyes piercing through your bright ones that seemed undoubtedly excited. “How many times do I gotta tell you that there aren't that many actual case assignments? Besides, most team-ups happen in the morning when I’m asleep.”

“Being a hero is so boring!”

“You’re not a hero.”

“Am too!” Shinsou snorted, turning on his heel and began walking away, listening to your footsteps running after him to keep up with his long paces as you cried that out.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

Shinsou stopped, his eyebrow raised in slight forced annoyance but much more amusement, when you spun in front of him, hand on his chest, cheeks puffing with your heavy breathes.

“Look!”

Tilting his head back, Shinsou grunted when your phone was shoved in his face. “What is this?”

“Hero Commission Regulation Handbook, page fifty-four, Article three, sub-article twenty-three,” you chirped, turning your phone back to yourself so that you may read it correctly. “It states that besides attending hero school like a bunch of nerds, civilians have the option of securing internships with approved Pro Heroes and work side by side with them for six months! Once finishing their internships, said Pro Hero must simply sign my licensing papers and bam, a hero I’ll become.”

“And which sniveling hero did you get to do your dirty work?” Shinsou scoffed, not at all buying the notion that you of all people wanted to become a hero. A vigilante at best, an anti-hero much more realistically, and staying a villain as default.

“You,” you smirked, winking at him before turning on your heel and sauntering off, knowing full well the patterns of his routines. 

Shinsou sighed, but he let a familiar smirk fall on his face as he walked after you, enjoying the way you glanced back at him with your wide clear eyes. But that suspicious, gut feeling didn’t leave his core, no matter how sweet and beautiful he found your smile. 

“So, Mindjack-senpai, who are we apprehending today?”

“You want me to sign your paper this entire time, and you’ve been addressing me as senpai?” Shinsou commented, his weapon shooting off to a nearby building, snapping straight in his hand when it was ready. “Where are your manners? It’s Mindjack-sensei to you.”

He didn’t wait for your response, choosing to swing off the ledge of the building with no hesitation, but a part of him wished he could have heard the sound of your laugh he only seemed to hear through the streaming, far away air.

…

… 

While usually, Shinsou didn’t have actual cases during his patrols, this job, after all, was much more spontaneous than anything else, today was different.

Today was different altogether, really.

First off, he showed up to work when the sun was still up just to get his meeting intel down in time for him to be out on the scene in time. He had nodded plenty, silently taking in Creati’s information on the drug cartel they wanted to in the next few weeks take down for numerous charges. The creation of dangerous, illegal drugs, prostitution rings, robbery, and murder being the main ones. It was some bigger stuff, so they needed all the evidence they could get.

Shinsou stared at the faces of the more prominent names of the cartel, studying every crook, nanny, and scar on their faces as Creati simply ended with where they focused down onto where their drug creating facilities were at, but still needed confirmation. “They’re pretty difficult to get to without knowing where they are,” Creati admitted, handing him a GPS. “You’ll need this.” He would be the first to start evidence gathering; after all, his old classmates would begin tomorrow.

So he had left, going to the first hideout and finding out it was completely empty. Not a single spec of evidence remaining, not a secret door or trap to get him to where they could be hiding from sight.

So was the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Something sat weirdly in his stomach as he began walking towards the final one on his list, and he froze when he saw lights shifting and moving from around the building. Quickly, Shinsou hopped to higher grounds, his phone already out, ready to take pictures. He lay low to the rooftop, practically army crawling to get to place to place as he neared the windows on the rooftop, allowing him to peer in onto the building he was scouting to find precisely what he needed. 

The entire building was a drug production spot.

His eyes scanned the building floor, singling out ten of the twelve main heads on the cartel, and he smirked. Perfect.

“Whatcha doing here, Mindjack-sensei?” your voice whispered millimeters from his ear, and Shinsou bit his tongue harshly to keep the instinctual scream from ruining his covert operation.

He snapped his head over to you, eyes slightly furious, eyebrows knitted tightly as he looked to see you leaning toward him. You were in a different outfit today, completely black, drowning you out in the night. He blinked; even the capturing weapon he had still been unsuccessful in stealing back from you was pitch black.

“What’re you wearing?”

“Do you like it?” you asked, straightening up and twirling for him as if you were wearing a magnificent dress and not personally created ‘hero’ clothes. “Ah, I hoped you would! Sorry, I had to get rid of the purple. I just felt it made me look too cute, right? I know I can’t have villains falling for me like you had me falling for you!”

Shinsou did not blush, no he didn’t, “shut up.”

“So what are we looking for today?” you asked, pressing down onto the floor beside him. Your arm touching his as pressed your face towards the glass. “Is this a stakeout?”

“Less stakeout, more information gathering,” Shinsou grumbled, typing some needed notes onto a file on his phone. It seemed to him that there was plenty here for the drug making charges. “We’re trying to get their bigger names caught in the action.”

“Oh, I thought heroes just burst in whenever they wanted, that’s what they do in the movies. Plus, you always threaten me with being arrested with no evidence,” you giggle, shifting closer to the glass, smile wide on your face.

“After saying that, say goodbye to me signing off that paper of yours,” he grunted, slipping his phone back into his pocket while you scrunch your nose at him. Shinsou couldn’t help but stare at you as the palms of your hands supported your chin as you hummed some song he couldn’t recognize.

“Ne, Mindjack-sensei, did you get the big boss?” you asked, your finger pressed against the cold glass, and Shinsou frowned, returning his head to the glass.

Right where you were pointing was, in fact, the head of the cartel. He was horrendously scrawny, holding no sense of fear or malice, and Shinsou wondered what his quirk could be that he was in charge of an operation such as this one.

“Oh, his right-hand man came too! All twelve are here!” you cheered quietly as Shinsou took documentation on his phone, and that suspicious rock in his stomach finally made sense at this second.

“Y/l/n?” he asked, head turning toward yours, tired eyes glinting with emotions he didn’t know how to handle.

“Mhm?”

“How did you know there were twelve main members, and how’d they look like?”

Silence.

Shinsou’s lips pulled back into a snarl, his canines glinting as he locked eyes with yours that were wide with shock and disbelief.

“How’d you find me—?”

He watched you lean away from the glass, fingers shooting to your earpieces. And with the inkling of suspicion sprinting through his veins, the purple-haired hero still found that he moved too slow. 

BOOM!!!!

He blacked out when his body flew with the explosion.

...

..

.

Ringing.

Pain.

Numbness.

Shinsou could only hear ringing in his ears as soot and ashes fell down from the sky, falling on his body, coating his gaping, open mouth as he tried to breathe, trying to calm himself. Was he bleeding? Was he dying? Where was the explosion from? Were you okay?

His eyes blinked heavily, altogether so irregularly that Shinsou couldn’t help but feel he was out of his body when you reappeared in his sight. Your hand pressing to his cheeks sympathetically, eyes truly hurt as you shook your head, hand grabbing into his bloodied pocket to take his phone.

“I’m sorry,” your voice seemingly whispered, just loud enough for him to hear you through the ringing from the explosion. “You weren’t supposed to be here, Mindjack… these are the scumbags that hurt my friends and family. I couldn’t let them live. Plus… I didn't have a choice, they were competition.”

He spluttered, the warm goo of blood and saliva choking out of his mouth as he convulsed on the ground, his eyes watching as you went.

“See you later, hero.”

He tried to yell at you to come back, that you were a coward, a fucking menace that he would destroy the next time he saw you, but his voice failed to work. Nothing was working except his pain receptors, his heart that kept shoving blood into his lungs that he kept spitting up, but he saw flashing white and red lights as unconsciousness sank its jagged teeth into his neck.

An ambulance was here.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It took four months to recover from the accident.

His hearing had been fucked up. Not even medical quirks had managed to save his hearing entirely. But hey, it did get him the chance for Bakugou Katsuki to come to his room, called him pathetic, and showed off his own hearing aid that he had needed since his quirk had damaged his own hearing. Not to mention that for the past four months, he had been teaching him sign language just in case.

He wasn’t alone, it seemed.

But it was four months, and he had recovered fully.

The hearing aid he required in his left ear still made his ear ache in pain, and he found that he liked it much better shoved in the back of a draw than anything else. But he knew it was dangerous to be a hero without his full hearing. If it hadn’t been for Bakugou’s trial through this all and the help of Hatsume Mei to create a more appropriate hearing aid for heroes, he wasn’t sure if he would still be here — working that is.

But today — or well, night — was a new day, and he was going to push ahead. He could do this, no sweat, no problem. 

Well, that was until an all too familiar figure sat perched on a ledge on his usual route, legs swaying in the air as uncontrolled rage bubbled in his chest. It wasn’t entirely your fault, but a large part of Shinsou was embarrassed to have been caught up in all of this because of you. He had trusted you above all else even when his instincts yelled at him not to because he knew what it was like to be painted as a villain, and he had hoped by letting you in more, you would have changed. He thought you had.

But you hadn’t.

Not one bit.

…

…

You sat at the edge of the building, already having heard the loud crunch of Shinsou’s shoes against the gravel rooftop, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t know how to face him, how to tell him that you were both sorry that he got caught up in your schemes, but that you weren’t sorry for what you had done. Those bastards had it coming.

“Give me one good reason not to push you off the building,” Shinsou growled, probably much louder than he intended. 

Instead of answering, you shrugged.

You hadn’t brought the earbuds that would keep you from being immune to his quirk, and you slightly feared what would happen if you gave in to the whispers of his words. Would you blackout in a daze before coming back to normal only when placed in the prefectures jail? Would he actually attempt to kill you? You had no idea.

But you turned on the ledge, looking at his tired purple eyes that shook with his anger and betrayal. You had done a number on him.

“So, now you can’t seem to respond back to me?” he laughed bitterly, his teeth bared into a way too fierce smile, one that made your heart thump and sent a shiver down your spine. “What game do you think you’re playing?”

You still didn’t answer as you planted your feet back onto the rooftop and stood up, watching as his binds flared to life. Dancing and weaving around him in a dangerous coil of fabric, like a frilled dragon lion lizard extending its skin in a warning.

“Should’ve taken you down with that first time I found you,” he spat, his eyes narrowing as you took steps toward him, and the weapon seemed to snap at you. “Did your sister pull the same bullshit on him as you did me? Is that why he became ‘psycho?’”

Now that one nearly got the response out of you as fury thrummed through your veins as you were suddenly nose to nose. You couldn’t help it, but you knew there was no point in explaining your reasoning for doing what you did because he would never understand; he couldn’t. 

So as his eyes flashed dangerously from your eyes, his breathing coming down harshly against your upper lip, the hatred he had for you (that was probably reignited from a year ago and make it double) simmered between the air between you and him. You couldn’t resist.

Your lips pressed against his in a simmering hot kiss. 

Shinsou shoved you away, as quickly as you had pressed your mouth against his, but you were back on him before he could utter a word. Only that this time, he kissed you back with scalding, burning heat. 

You never really knew how much smaller you were to Shinsou until you were on the tips of your toes to kiss him, his hands practically burning you as they gripped onto your hips, pulling you so close there was hardly any room to breathe. His kiss was hateful, spiteful, and full of unspoken passion the two of you had never addressed during the period that was good. It had been so good, but he was a hero, he would never understand.

His teeth bit harshly onto your lower lip, and you hissed, your fingers burying into his hair and tugging at the root of his hair as his tongue came and pressed dangerously against yours. His tongue was hot against yours, he was undoubtedly much more hotblooded than you were, and with his emotions heightened, he exhausted what. 

Tongues clashed against one another, but it wasn’t even a battle of dominance; it was a battle to find who surrendered. There was to be no joy or excitement for whichever tongue prevailed, just the burning of the tears falling down your face and the acid taste on your tongue as he suckled on your pink muscle.

Your eyes were partially opened, watching his angry yet blank purple eyes meet yours, neither one of you allowing yourself to give in to the pure elation and sensation this was bringing. No, he wouldn’t allow it, and you wouldn’t have it.

The stubble of his beard scratched into your skin repetitively, feeling like sandpaper against your own skin as the kiss deepened, consuming the both of you on a whole new level as your crotches ground roughly against one another. Hisses and groans couldn’t stop pouring from your collective mouths, both of you hating yet craving more from this all. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he spoke to you like this, would he do something to you while you were like this? So when his massive, thick hand made contact with the underneath of your ass, scooping up your leg so that your covered cunt could now correctly grind into his hard cock, the weapon you stole from him a year ago bound around his neck, choking him, collaring him.

“I like my bitches chained up,” you mocked against his lips, but somehow, someway, Shinsou liked it. 

You groaned loudly at the way Shinsou gasped for air against the makeshift collar, your grin widening as you nodded your head, pulling away from his mouth as the grin became a smirk. “Didn’t think you wanted to talk when we were fucking?” you lied, teeth biting onto his lower lip and sucking on it as your hips oh so artfully bucked against his covered cock. You could feel the growing slick in your panties beginning to feel uncomfortable with the lack of proper friction, and your head lolled backward when he slammed your core against his, devilishly grinding against you.

He picked up your other leg and dropped the both of you to the floor, the uncomfortable gravel stone floor digging painfully into your back, but you could care less. Shinsou’s mouth was already back on your body, scratchy, scraping kisses placed on your neck, making you moan out, legs wrapping around his waist as you cant your hips upward to grind into him.

Unamused with the lack of his hands on your body, you took his arms that were planted at your shoulders and pressed his heavy palms on your breasts, avoiding the pissed look in his eyes as his teeth marked you painfully. You actually shrieked in pain. The feeling of his teeth tearing through the skin on your neck, while his finger kneaded and pulled at your covered breasts. It was unashamedly painful with how he played with your breasts. He seemed to grow happier with every sound of distress you made.

Fisting your hands back into his hair, you pulled him back to your face level, your eyes fluttered at the way his clothed erection carded perfectly between your sopping wet cunt. Blood stained his mouth, making his teeth slightly orange in tint, and you clicked your teeth in partial anger and pain as your neck throbbed. Slamming your lips back against his, you almost gagged at the taste of iron that soared through your senses as his tongue wasted no time to seek yours out. His lips and fingers were so ardent, manipulating your every body movement, cry of pain and pleasure as thrumming hatred for the stupid, stubborn hero above you still coursed through your veins. 

Sweat began to form at your temples as your lips gilded against his, your hips snapping up to meet his grinding hips, and an airy response keened from his mouth as you moaned loudly.

His incessantly grinding hips were making your legs shake with stimulation, your whines and whimpers for more opening like a flood gate as you finally stuck a hand between the two of you and shoved his pants to his knees. You dropped your legs from around his waist, and he assisted you in ripping your pants off from one side of your body, the fabric still clinging to your right leg, but you could hardly care. All you wanted was for him to plant his cock into your blazing heat and to fuck you, to claim you here on this rooftop that started and would end it all. You wanted him, his cock, and him.

“Fuck me,” you begged into his ear, and his back shivered with your words. You hooked your leg around his waist, carding his hot, throbbing cock against your soaked pussy, as you rolled your hips. “I want you to fuck me, fill me with his cock, and cum deep within me to show me just how much you fucking hate me.”

You cried out when his hand shot down to his cock to line it up with your squeezing, dripping hole, his mouth once again covering yours, kissing you aggressively, fueled with an emotion you could taste as bitter hatred. Your legs trembled as the tip of his cock continued to press against your entrance, not entirely entering it, not giving you friction to send you into a euphoric end. You could help the snarl that passed through your lips, your eyes angry beyond repair as the head of his cock continued to deny you. Whenever you tried to grind down, to force your walls around his cock, he went down with you, he wouldn’t allow it, and your cunt clenched against nothing as he gave you nothing.

Shinsou wheezes out a bitter chuckle, his hand raising his cock from between your soaked folds to slap his heavy, thick, and long length against your throbbing clit.

Hatred and desire soak your body, and you needily rub your clit against his cock, your hands shoving up his shirt to feel the scarred pattern of his back as you give him new ones that were produced by your nails.

“Don’t tease me, hero,” you snapped, fingers tearing into his skin to draw blood. “You fuck my pussy so good, right now, or I promise next time you’ll go out with that bomb too.”

That seems to do what you want because before those words settle on your nerves. His cock penetrates deeply within you, bottoming out entirely as your head thrashes back against the gravel of the floor, throbbing pain from that entirely ignorable because fuck, his cock was stretching you out. He was so thick, so fucking veiny that you could feel the pulsating veins on his cock pressing against your puffy, sensitive walls. You scream his name as the pleasure-filled pain pulses within you, your hips thrashing, wildly bucking in your attempt to calm from the sudden placement of his cock.

“Why are you so fucking big?” you splutter, a whining pitch to your voice as you clawed at his back, trying to separate your joined bodies but also trying to get even closer. “It’s so big, my walls feel like! Oh fuck, Shinsou, it feels like Imma split in two!”

It seems that Shinsou holds some great pride over those worse, because he growled deep in his chest, and his hips begin to fuck into you. It sends your hands to the base of his neck, clutching onto his skin with hope as you scream in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the wet squelches fill the air and tickle your ears. The head of his cock keeps dragging against your spongy wall, brushing over your g-spot over and over again as if he knew where it was, as if it was common knowledge as he fucked you further into the gravel floor. It didn’t even hurt anymore, your skin singing with joy as his cock fucked you stupid.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me!” you whined, and Shiinsou made an approving noise. 

He grunts as your cunt flutters and clenches around him, his balls hitting your skin in possibly bruising force and speed. And his pelvis crashing against your stings ever so slightly, but has you begging for more, sobbing for more.

Your vulgar words and moans are unstoppable at this point, your legs and thighs trembling as they are still circled around him, sometimes assisting you in coming up to meet his driving, drilling hips. You whine into his ear, your mouth pressing blind and sloppy kisses against his slick with sweat neck.

It’s when both his hands bring your hips up to him, his cock finally bottoming out entirely within you, does the most primal moan rip through your mouth. You convulse underneath him, trying to move as the head of his cock buries against your cervix, poking your womb with power and speed that has you swearing behind the blackness of your vision that this sensation brings. You can see the entire galaxy, the world lighting up when his cock leaves the thin wall, and you gasp, shocked that the heat and slick of your cunt is still going. You tremble underneath him, wordless cries pittering from your mouth while he bites on your earlobe.

You soon readjust to the numbing pleasure, the bruising pleasure, and pain that comes with his cock slamming against your cervix. The way that he thrusts up into you, stretching out your walls far more than you were ever used to.

 A pathetic cry escaped your lips when he rolled over so that you were now on top, your body bouncing as soon as it could against him. You keened and whined, feeling the top of his cock licking your cervix, and you spluttered.

“Fuck this angle, this angle and your cock!?” you stammered, fists curling into his collar as you rode him, his hips snapping up into yours with that same animalistic power and speed.

His pace is irreplicable, near maddening with every successive thrust of his hips. Each snap, each wet noise sends you close to the edge, your inner walls clenching and milking his length with greater power as your senseless cries fill the night sky. His grip on your waist will leave purple bruises later tonight, you just know it, but the fire in his eyes as you lock fazes is enough for you to be okay with it.

Its intensifying, deepening, fire erupting in your core as your cunt throbs.

Sweat, tears, and spit fall from your face, and Shinsou surges upward, kissing you with everything he can. It's a maddening escape of lust and need and hatred being exchanged, saliva spreading between you, covering your hot faces with slimy coldness, But you keep him close, your mouth drinking him in more, begging for more as your tongue sinks into his mouth.

His fingers rake down from your back. Past the curve of your clapping ass and onto your powerful thighs that helped in your action to claim his cock. Your joined mouths, both parted in silent screams, wordless begs for more, branding curses that spoke of his hatred for you, your hatred of his job.

Fuck this, fuck that, fuck, fuck, “fuck!”

You held each other impossibly close. Despite the barriers of shirts and armor separating your chests, you swore you could feel his hammering heart flush against your chest. A steady, consistent beat reminding you that this was a one-time thing, that this was yet another bomb with only one explosion to it.

“S-Shit!” his voice finally managed to escape from the makeshift collar, and you nearly sobbed at the sound of his gravelly, husky voice. 

You still hated him, you really hated him and his stupid deep voice. 

Your back arches as the control you had on collar suddenly slacks, as if you had never had it there, and his own noises of sex, of hatred, of pleasure fill and echo in your ear. You can hear him mumbling something in your ear, your head pathetically nodding, tears streaming down your face only you can’t seem to figure out why. The throbbing pressure in your stomach made you near uncomfortable as his cock sank and disappeared from your cunt, your walls' vice grip becoming tighter and tighter and tighter.

There’s vigor, untapped lust, pent up frustration as he rolls you both around, pushing you back into the gravel and dives his length into your wet, loud cunt without mercy. You were overworked, over thrilled, the pressure of your coming orgasm snapping into your every fiber of your being, your toes curling, and drool seeping from your lips as he growled. 

The noise seemed to resonate deeply in your own chest, and he pressed his sweaty forehead against yours, pathetic, needy noises escaping your lips as you stared into his angry, lusting eyes. And as he buried his teeth into your bottom lip, his nose scrunched in an aggressive snarl, he spoke with finality:

“Cum.”

You weren’t sure if you had suddenly fallen under the persuasion of his brainwash, or he just knew you were overfilled with pressure, but you went rigid in his hold, your eyes rolling backward, and your vision going white. You came in powerful waves, electric stimming vibrating through your entire body as your spongey, wet walls clamped around him, and Shinsou came in a guttural groan. His hips snapping into your with five last, robust, resounding thrusts until your trembling abdomen and thighs were stilled with his crushing weight.

 You could feel his hot cum pulsing and thriving deep within your cunt, and you panted heavily, your body feeling alarmingly weak as the both of you lay there. A puddle of cum, tears, drool, pain, longing, and hatred.

He lays on top of you, his chest heaving with his breathing, and you felt frozen beneath him. The pain of the gravel roof no longer adds to your pleasure but rather is stabbing you in pain. It’s quiet as you lay there.

He’s quiet.

You’re silent.

“Why’d you do it?” he asked suddenly, interrupting the silence that you hated.

“I can’t tell you,” you admit, voice thick and heavy with untold emotions.

“You know I’ll have to arrest you, right?” Shinsou spoke softly, but he didn’t move to capture you, and you didn’t move to run.

What was the point? It wasn’t as if there was ever a fighting chance for the both of you. The world would have never allowed it, so why bother?

“I don’t think you hate me enough to arrest me right now, sleep on it,” you softly chided, your eyes staring up into the universe, begging to know why they made you a freak?

“Not right now, you spent all my energy,” Shinsou admits, rising up from you, his soft cock removing itself from your humming core, and you looked away to keep from staring. “I really hate you though, y/l/n. I don’t like liars or pretenders.”

“Convince your cock of it next time,” you couldn’t help but fire back, your upper lip curling in your anger and hatred at the sound of his zipping pants.

Silence and a beat follow your words.

“I’ll tell you this now,” Shinsou spoke, turning on his heels, his tone was cold, distant, like a stranger who could care less for you. “Don’t let me see you again. If I do, I promise you, I’ll send your ass to Tartarus. We’re no longer on good terms.”

Anger, hatred, and fury course through your veins as you stand up, legs weak, but spirit wounded as you pull up your pants, uncaring of his cum leaking from your slit. 

“Don’t you dare show your face to me again! Next time I won’t save your fucking ass when I blow something up!” you snapped, the tears running down your face uncontrollable although your voice never gave it away. It didn’t have to though, he turned around one last time, and his eyes met yours, and the two of you glared and simmered. 

But, he didn’t bother to respond back as he disappeared into the shadows of the night sky.

You collapsed onto your knees, exhaustion finally catching up with you, and you realized his capturing weapon you had stolen was finally taken back by the rightful owner. You fell forward, the tears and silent sobs muffled by your bitten lip as you stayed on that rooftop for an hour. Crying like a freak.

Truth be told, you weren’t even sure if you ever hated him.

...

..

.

Incoming Text…

Incoming Text…

New Text Message Received!

From Unknown:      ↳ Good job, y/n. Phase one is complete.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

[a-pretty-nerd]

Your Favorite Bastard Men As Parents

Shigaraki, Aizawa, Shinsou, and Amajiki x pregnant reader headcannons!

ALL CHARACTERS ARE OF 👏 LEGAL 👏 AGE 👏 18+

A/N: This was bound to happen. If you follow me, you know I have a breeding kink, and YOU KNOW I'm a slut for some good x pregnant!reader content! So here's a few hcs for my favorite boys!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

1. Shouta Aizawa

Initial Reaction:

"That can't be right."

Denial.

It wasn't planned. He never even planned on settling down with anyone, much less having his own kids!

It's a wonder how you even ended up with him in the first place!

He's not super upset, he's not angry or afraid. He's just in disbelief.

Truly he doesn't even believe its real till he sees a sonogram and you're starting to show.

Pregnancy:

Aizawas an all or nothing dude. Once he feels how real things are getting, he's all in.

He stays up late doing research, books, parenting blogs, birthing videos. You name it, he's looked into it.

He worries about you constantly. He calls you from work every chance he gets a break.

He makes you eat uber healthy, gross green smoothies, stinky teas, anything and everything good for you and the baby.

It becomes a habit for him to reach over and run his hands over your belly. It's soothing for him.

Fatherhood:

A+ Dad.

Turns out being used to not getting enough sleep is perfect for parenthood.

He feels bad he doesn't spend more time home, even if he's plenty home.

He doesn't always understand his kid, but he'll always support them.

Very patient.

Catch this man asleep in the rocking chair with the baby passed out on his bare chest.

Ugh, so sweet. ❤

2. Hitoshi Shinsou

Initial Reaction:

"You can't be serious."

He scares you at first. Not because he's mad but because he looks void of emotion at first.

He's not mad. Actually, he doesn't know how to feel at first.

I imagine you wouldn't be activley trying, but you weren't against the idea.

He holds you close when he realizes he's frightened you. He smiles and rubs your back.

"This is incredible. I love you so much."

Pregnancy:

He's 100% lost.

Suddenly, he knows nothing and he's trying his hardest to help you.

Really, he'll do almost anything you ask.

He'll even try your strange cravings with you. Turns out peanut butter pickle sandwhiches aren't all that bad!

Shinsou is a body worship kind of guy and when you get pregnant...omg be prepared.

He LOVES the way you grow. When your belly gets big, he can't keep his hands off you. Not that he could before, how do you think you got pregnant in the first place? Damn.

Fatherhood:

Again, he's very lost.

But he's so determined to be a good dad.

He's amazing once he gets the hang of it. Really, he's great.

He loves, loves, LOVES his baby. He comes home every day so excited to see them.

Annoys his coworkers with baby pictures.

Imagine Shinsou doing baby talk. ❤

3. Tamaki Amajiki

Initial Reaction:

"What? Really!? Are you sure!? You're sure you're sure!?"

Nervous wreck.

Even if you were trying, he'd be nervous. Overjoyed, but nervous.

What if something went wrong? What if something happened to him at work? What of he couldn't be there for you?

He's excited, but so scared.

What if he's not a good enough dad?

He starts to become a little overbearing.

Pregnancy:

He worries about you constantly.

If anything, I mean ANYTHING goes wrong, he starts to doomsday prep.

He's always so quick to get you to the dr, the hospital, the midwife, whatever.

He's obsessed with your body though. The way you look all round and plump and so perfect. He's in love all over again.

He cried when he first heard the baby's heartbeat. Like, "it's just so fast and l-little."

Tries to be there for everything. Every dr appointment, every couples class, all of it.

He becomes a hermit. He doesn't wanna go anywhere or do anything. He just wants you, him, and the baby home and safe.

Fatherhood:

He cried so hard when he first held them.

So nervous but so determined.

He just wants to be a good dad so bad.

He's a bit of a push over. He spoils them rotten.

Cant stand to hear the baby cry. He rushes over even at the sound of fussing.

Gets to the crib faster than you most of the time.

He loves to sit in the rocking chair and feed the baby. Its very calming and it makes him feel like a good dad. ❤

4. Tomura Shigaraki

Initial Reaction:

"...What?"

Fear. Absolute utter terror.

He's petrified the moment the words, "I'm pregnant" leave your lips.

He's very quiet, his movements are slow, he looks calm, but he's shaking.

He doesn't know what to do or what to say.

He loves you, he truly does. You're the first person he truly respects and trusts and cares about. So why is he so afraid?

He doesn't know the first thing about babies, and becoming a father, the very figure he struggles with most, shakes him to his very core.

Pregnancy:

At first, he goes through the stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, but finally, he accepts.

He hides you away when you start to show. If anything were to happen, he needs to know the two of you would be safe. He visits, often, almost everyday. But he doesn't live with you.

There's apart of him that wants this. Wants the normalcy or a family. He wants a chance to redeem himself.

To be good at heart. He takes very good care of you. He's very specific about hiding the pregnancy from others.

At this rate he's the leader of an army, a movement, he can't risk you being involved in that anymore.

He loves being able to care for you. Something in him loves being so sweet and kind just for you. You're the only one he could ever love and trust this much.

Fatherhood:

When he first saw them, something snapped in him. Something so small and precious, he helped make that? Half of that, is him?

But they're so...perfect?

Even though he has full control of his decaying quirk at this point, he's afraid to hold the baby.

So for a while he'll only hold them close to his chest, tucked into his arm. He balls his hands into fists to be sure he doesn't touch them.

He's in shock and disbelief because he can't believe the baby is so perfect. At first he's convinced something is wrong with them. But as time goes on, he's reassured, they're fine.

He's constantly thinking about them. Constantly wanting to make them happy, to ease their crying, to soothe them.

It's heartwarming to watch him read to the baby. He reads to them, every night. ❤

#mha #Aizawa x reader #Aizawa x pregnant reader #Shouta Aizawa #Hitoshi Shinsou #Shinsou x reader #Shinsou x pregnant reader #Tamaki Amajiki #Amajiki x reader #Amajiki x pregnant reader #Tomura Shigaraki #Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki x pregnant reader

[retrogalwrites]

Aizawa Shouta x Yandere!fReader

Title: “Kiss me as if you are punching me” / view on ao3

summary: Aizawa is kidnapped by a villain obsessed with him, who hopes to finally make the hero hers.

Warnings: dubcon, coercion, unhealthy relationships, drugging, kidnapping, yandere reader, hate fucking from Aizawa's side, delusions, masochism 

Other contents: creampie, orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamic, spanking, rough sex, fingering, masturbation, name calling, a twist because i like twists

Words: 2917

When Aizawa opened his eyes, he was not surprised by the tight rope around his body that kept him viciously tied to a bulky chair. He had been held hostage before, more than once even, it just came with the job, you know?

However, typically, he'd expect some decaying dirty room, some dark, gloomy basement that smelled like shit, just the usual imagery you expect from situations like these.

Instead, his surprise—utter shock if you will—came from the smell of roses and cinnamon that filled his nostrils, the vibrant color red of opulent velvet wallpaper around him and fluffy carpet under his feet of matching color. The room was dimly lit by a varied array of candles carefully placed on expensive-looking furniture, even a fancy bed, it was a very girly and sensual atmosphere that completely crushed his usual expectations of being kidnapped by an enemy. It was one of those rare times that Aizawa felt at loss of words.

"Guess who~?"

Suddenly a saccharine voice, suggestive and obscene, called from behind as a pair of hands playfully covered his eyes. Aizawa froze, of course he knew that voice very well, he groaned at the feeling of round, soft breasts pressing against the back of his head, it gave him annoying goosebumps.

Of course he recognized that voice, even the feeling of your body. For months you had roamed the streets committing mostly petty crime with the sole purpose of getting the hero Eraserhead to chase after you, like some obsessed psycho. Like a little pest, you'd pop up to cause trouble while he was on his nightly rounds without fail, always dolled up, flaunting your assets like a harlot and provoking him shamelessly. Always boldly declaring your insane love for him before managing to slip away into the shadows...

It was such a bizarre case that other heroes had started to tease him about it, laughing about the femme fatale villain that had a crush on him. He despised it, your existence did nothing but to bring yet another thing for him to be tired and annoyed about.

At least, you were a low tier threat, basically harmless really, or so he thought. Being kidnapped by you was the last thing he had expected, and that only annoyed him more, the thought that he had underestimated the situation and how unhinged you really had been.

Aizawa uttered your name under his breath like a cursed word, and you giggled delighted against his ear.

"Yes, it's me~! As expected from my darling."

"Don't call me that." He refuted your pet-names as always, mustering his most stern voice to mask the fact he was still trying to process his own shortcomings that had lead him there. "What the hell is this?"

Removing your hands from his eyes, you remained behind him, placing them instead on his broad shoulders, reminding him of the lack of his scarf-his only offensive weapon- on them.

"Well, what does it look like? I abducted you, silly." You hummed amused, tone far too casual for his liking. But with your fingers digging into the muscle, massaging his soreness, he almost gave in and sighed in relief. "You've been playing so hard to get all this time, and trust me I do love the chase but...I just can't bear with it anymore."

"Then leave me alone." He managed to say instead, as he struggled on his seat, testing the tightness of the binding around him.

"No, can't do." You replied, fingers digging into his shoulders with a more vicious grip that made him wince. "How many times do I have to repeat myself? I love you so much, I need you so bad, I may just die."

"Then die." With a deep, angry tone, he growled. " I don't have time for none of this bullshit."

Of course, you only gushed excitedly, throwing your arms around his neck and embracing him from behind so lovingly, he could feel the heat of your body. "Oh baby, I love it when you are mean!"

"You're delusional." He said.

"Well, yes." You replied. "But I'm still going to get what I want."

As you pulled back, Aizawa felt the sharp tip of a blade pressed against the back of his neck, threatening to cut through if he didn't stay put. He broke into cold sweat.

"Open your mouth."

"..."

"Open your mouth or I'll cut your head off, I really don't want to do that, dear."

You had never threatened him like that before, he hesitated for a second before spitting back, expertly to not let his tumultuous feelings show.

"I'll bite your hand off."

"You know, I wouldn't mind if you did that." You giggled again. Aizawa  sighed deeply, feeling powerless against what was someone who clearly couldn't be reasoned with.

You took advantage of that to bring your fingers to his mouth, slipping inside two white pills before forcing his jaw shut with your hand so he'd have to swallow them. Aizawa tried to spit them out, but you weren't having none of it, in the end he had to swallow the dissolving drug into his system.

"What the hell...did you give me?!"

He demanded as soon as you let go of him, drool dribbling down his scruffy chin.

"Relax, it will make you feel good. I would never poison you, baby."

But it was a little too hard to believe you, of course. His silence said as much.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you...it's an aphrodisiac."

It was like you had actually stabbed him with that knife, the severity of your words weighing on him, an understanding of what you were planning to do with him filling the hero with dread that was almost as big as his self-hatred for having stupidly refused to take you as a bigger threat sooner.

With a soft, feminine laugh, twirling gracefully, you quickly moved around to stand in front of him.

Finally getting to properly look at you, Aizawa jaw almost dropped.

Dressed in a black nightie babydoll, all lace and ribbons, showing off the perfect curves of your body, supple skin of your breasts and nipples behind see-through fabric. The edges fluttered delicately just above your upper thighs, giving him full view of the crotchless panties you wore, your slit shamelessly displayed for him to see.

His body felt as though it was on fire, eyes glued to the glistening wetness already smeared over the pink skin of your folds, even more stickiness clinging to the skin of your inner thighs showing just how fucking wet you had to be.

It was work of the aphrodisiac, he realized, how his heart began racing madly in his chest with pumping blood, a dryness in his mouth and a heat in his abdomen that was making it hard to breath properly.

Aizawa's entire willpower worked harder it ever had just to try to look uninterested at the lewd sight of you. "Well, it sure is a shame you went through all this trouble for nothing."

You pouted at his comment almost childishly, something that gave him a sense of satisfaction despite his situation still being far from improving. But Aizawa had to remain calm, because knowing his colleagues, they would be out to look for him soon enough, all he had to do was to endure ...to endure...to endure what exactly? He still wasn't completely sure, and yet that only made him shiver with unwanted thrill.

"So you say, but you seem to be a little excited already."

Drawling your words, your eyes fixated on his crotch. He looked down as well and cringed, a bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, his cock swelling up simply by looking at your own depraved arousal. He reminded himself it wasn't his fault, it was the drug, he still could fight off the effects.

"You are pathetic, forcing yourself on someone like this." He said with a groan, because his hardening cock was starting to feel uncomfortably tight inside his pants. You rolled your eyes, and laughed.

"Oh no, I'm not going to do that."

Your answer, simple and honest, took him by surprise that Aizawa couldn't conceal.

"I'll simply stand here and enjoy myself, give you a little show. I won't touch you unless you ask me to, my darling."

Before he could respond, you were soon taking one step back from him. Standing on a pair of impractical high heels and stockings, Aizawa watched as you began to sway your hips side to side with hypnotic rhythm, the fluttering edges of the lacy babydoll bringing attention to the ripe shape of your plump thighs, he could even imagine grabbing them with his large hands...fuck, dealing with you would've been far easier from the very start if you weren't so infuriatingly gorgeous.

Aizawa groaned, lips tightly shut, refusing to give you any sort of satisfaction from this.

But as if you could read his mind, you turned around playfully to give him a full view of your backside. The roundness of your fat ass, perfect to grab and force against his aching cock and rut against until he was shooting his seed all over your asscheeks, fuck...his dirty thoughts kept pulling up.

Aizawa's throbbing erection twitched with need, and he tried to rub his thighs together for just a little bit of friction. You didn't notice it in that exact moment, because you were too busy leaning forward to show off your pussy at his hungry gaze, your fingers moving to the crotchless area of your panties to spread your folds with your fingers, giving him a perfect view of your pussy's tight hole.

Even with his dry eyes, he was having a hard time blinking, unable to part away from that obscene view. Your needy little hole so wet for him right there in full display, only a whore would have such little shame and modesty, a crazy whore like you.

Aizawa didn't realize his lip had started to bleed slightly from bitting it too hard.

"God, knowing you are looking at me makes me so excited, baby." You moaned softly, voice full of adoration, looking at him over your shoulder. "Like a dream come true."

Aizawa turned his head away just to try spite you, using his messy long hair to shield his vision, an attempt to dominate this bizarre game of yours, but uncaring to his resistance, you simply continued enjoying yourself for him to witness. Slowly, you slid one finger into your dripping cunt, your legs trembling as you moaned Aizawa's name outloud.

The fire in his blood was reaching a fever pitch, the sound so obscene of his name on your tongue, accompanied to the squelching noises of your finger pumping in and out your tight walls quickly had him looking back at your depraved little show.

As soon as you felt his gaze back on you, another finger was inserted, making yourself mewl dramatically with your back arching like a cat's, then a third finger testing the stretch of your hole around them. You were taking them so well, his breath hitched. Watching how you were fucking yourself like that ignited that primal urge in him to tackle you to the floor and replace those fingers with the thickness of his cock...

"Oh, Shouta...aahhh I love you so much...!!" You started mumbling, like begging, and it made him pitifully buck his hips into the air before he could stop himself.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Aizawa was losing his mind with the drugs maximizing his lust. His cock was so swollen and hard that it was painful, his balls begging to be emptied, just any sort of relief.

Another loud, slutty moan from you that turned into a cry, as your wobbly legs gave out and you slid onto the floor slowly, still fingering yourself you switched positions. Facing him with your legs spread as you sat on the floor, you continued fingering yourself. Now your free hand massaging your own breast, punching the nipple over the fabric of the top.

"I'm so close...ahh...." you panted, looking directly at him, your little pink tongue poking out your gaping mouth. "I'll let you go once I cum, promise."

That was what broke his control, the power of the aphrodisiac too strong to fight. In that moment Aizawa knew he had lost his sense of reason. He struggled violently against the binding rope, a gutural growl erupting from deep in his chest.

"Don't you dare finishing without my permission, you damn bitch."

The commanding tone, the brutality of his voice, you froze in place as you stared at him with wide eyes. He spoke again, glaring at you with unfiltered lust and anger he hadn't felt before. "Untie me now, I'm going to fuck you. That's what you want isn't it? Then bring your pussy over here."

The look on your face was of absolute delight, almost childish in excitement. Before he knew it, you had severed the ropes tying him to the chair with the knife you had kept tucked by the elastic of your stocking.

The sequence that followed happened so fast he barely registered it, when he roughly grabbed you by the arms with his freed hands, forcing you to drop the knife as he pushed you down onto the floor. Crawling on top, Aizawa crashed his mouth against yours, lips violently molding against yours in a desperate, almost animilastic imitation of a kiss, sloppily inserting his tongue into your eager mouth, and you returned the gesture in kind. By the time he realized what had happened, he was already rutting his erection against the gash of your pussy, groaning and whining at the delicious friction.

Breaking the kiss, leaving you with bruised lips, he plopped himself onto his knees and started unbuckling his pants, pulling out his cock that was red and raw, drooling precum like it was about to burst.

"Don't get it wrong, this is only because of your damn aphrodisiac..." He hissed above you, boring his smoldering gaze into yours, stroking his member in one hand.

Then, to his still surprise, you blurted out a hearty laugh. Deviously looking at him like the cat who got the cream.

"Oh, baby...that wasn't an aphrodisiac. It was just regular aspirin."

You admitted so honestly, and Aizawa couldn't do more than stare at you completely dumbstruck for a second. But only a second.

Immediately, you helped loudly as Aizawa unceremoniously turned you over, pulling your hips up so your perky ass was up in the air, and impaled you with his thick, hard cock in one brutal thrust. You cried again, face forced flush against the carpet floor by Aizawa's hand. His hips ruthlessly starting a furious peace, drilling himself into your tight walls without mercy.

"You...damn bitch...are you trying to make a fool of me?!"

Aizawa panted, hissing each syllable with every thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy mound over and over, the dry sound mixing with the wet squelching of your sex being abused.

"Apologize. Apologize for all the trouble you've caused me."

His other hand came down on your ass so hard, the stinging pain making you scream, leaving an raw imprint of his palm on your skin. And he hit you again, and again, as he fucked you relenthlessly.

"Yessss....I'm sorrryyy!!! I'm sorrryyy!!"

You moaned and cried, pain and pleasure too much to bear, words barely making sense. Tears streamed down your cheeks and yet the expression on your face couldn't be anything but pure happiness and adoration for Aizawa. "I love you so much darlin'...aaahh!!! I couldn't help myself!!"

You were so tight and snug inside, your slippery walks tightly squeezing his cock like you didn't want to ever let go of it, he could barely keep himself from cumming too soon with how fucking good you felt.

"You don't deserve to cum." He pushed himself against your back, her larger muscular frame easily pressing your entire body against the floor as he kept fucking you.

"Say it!"

"I...don't deserve to cum!!"

"I'm going to pump you full of my seed and you are going to be grateful for even that."

"Yesssss....!!!!"

Aizawa was soon shooting a heavy load into you, all that accumulated lust from all your teasing, all your annoying chase, all the undying love you proclaimed for him and he had no idea what to do with. He responded to your feelings the only way he knew how, and thick jets of white cum shoot into your womb, painting your walls with his semen until his balls stopped throbbing.

You were full of his cum, a babbling mess looking like you had seen heaven.

Aizawa wasn't sure himself, if he was in heaven or hell.

————

"Hey! Just got a call from the police, guess which wacky villainess is causing trouble downtown today?" The voice of Mic rang into the teacher lounge, peaking his head through he door.

"I don't want to guess." Aizawa muttered softly, quickly getting up on his feet and adjusting his googles, ready to head out. "I'll take care of it."

"Why, Shouta! If I didn't know better, I'd think ya rush to go see her quite a lot these days." A teasing smile, Mic tilted his head curiously. "Did something happen between you two?"

A pause, and the hero turned around to leave.

"Don't be ridiculous."

#aizawa thirst #aizawa x reader #tw dubcon #tw kidnapping #tw drugging #tw yandere

[dreamingofaizawa]

Leaving Him, Finding Her

Professor! Aizawa Shouta x Fem! Student! Reader

College AU

***18+ Fic***

If you are not 18 please make your way to the nearest exit, thank you and enjoy the rest of your day.

Warnings: smutty smut, HEAVY DADDY KINK, DD/LG dynamic, Daddy Dom Aizawa, complete sub reader, a temporary collar cuz I have a thing for collars (don’t come @ me, a real collar was too big a commitment to put in a forbidden hookup), praise kink in here, light oral (female receiving), bondage, shibari, unprotected sex, Aizawa being softer than a baby’s bottom, angst, fluff

Word count: 4.6 k

Author’s Note: Alright, ngl I cried writing the end to this cause I’m a little bitch when it comes to the softness after angst. Like, the only thing that makes me cry more than a sad ending is a happy one, and writing these scenes as they pley out is making me absolutely fucking weak. Also, my daddy and praise kinks are beaming, and so is my absolute love for aftercare. I’m lowkey super proud of this one, I’m a sucker for soft doms. 

Update: I'm editing it. Timestamp: 3:23 am Fri, May 14. (Very minimal) Editing completed: 4:20 am Fri, May 14.

Enjoy the read~

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He's beautiful. Ruggedly handsome in every way. Long, wavy, raven locks pulled into a slightly messy bun, revealing the scruff kept just barely tame on his strong jawline and chin. The dark circles under obsidian bloodshot eyes did nothing to steal from his allure. The scar under his eye and a frame too muscular for a simple college professor made you wonder what he’d done before lecturing in your physics class. It also had you wondering other things.

‘(y/l/n)’

What exactly did all that muscle look like? What did it feel like? Running your fingers down his neck and chest, trailing down his abdomen. Or crawling your hands up his legs, caressing his thick, muscled thighs. At night your thoughts ran rampant with images of your physics professor. A very naked professor, to be specific. And you had a title for him that you’d never want to reveal outside of your dorm bedroom.

‘Miss (y/l/n)’

What did he look like under the white dress shirt that was just slightly tight over his chest? And his pants that were fitted perfectly around his thick legs. You're experienced enough to know how submissive you are, and you wonder if he’d be a good dom, wonder if you could be a good enough sub for him. What did it feel like to have him bend you over his desk? Or tie you up as he ravaged your body? What did it feel like to let him have his way with you, to give him control…

“Miss (y/l/n)!”

You jump, immediately snapped back to reality, and recognize who had called your name. Your words came tumbling out without a second thought.

“Yes da-” you catch yourself, “Mr. Aizawa!... Yes, Mr. Aizawa?” Your face burned and your eyes shot wide at the fact that you’d nearly just called him the title from your fantasies. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice, and neither did any of your other classmates.

“If you aren’t paying attention perhaps the material is not challenging enough for you?” You swallow and shake your head.

“No, sir! I’m just a little tired, that’s all! I’ll be more attentive.” He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly unconvinced.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been distracted during class. See me during office hours.”

With that he continued with the lecture on centripetal force. You groan inwardly, though you only have yourself to blame.

Your grades hadn’t slipped, even if you were zoning out in class. Mr. Aizawa hit the nail on the head when he asked if the material wasn’t difficult enough for you. You’d studied physics before, it was simple for you, and you only needed to ask for notes from your classmates to be sure you did the work the way your professor wanted it to be done. The only reason you’d been enrolled in the class was because it was a requirement, and it was your last year so you had to take it. If it weren’t for your smoking hot professor you’d have hated every second you needed to sit in the lecture hall. He released the class, and you quickly packed up and left, not seeing the darkness in your professor’s eyes as he watched you leave.

It's dark by the time you still back onto campus, Mr. Aizawa’s office hours are strangely extremely late. There's no movement in the dark hallways, the only light coming from underneath Mr. Aizawa’s office door as you approach. The fact that the institution is large enough to give every teacher their own office is beginning to bother you, your overactive imagination getting the better of you.

After a breath, you knock lightly, answered by a muffled, 'Come in'. Another breath. You twist the handle and step into the office, and the man mumbles, 'Close the door behind you please'. You oblige, though your heart is beating out of your chest.

“You wanted to see me, professor?” He hums, eyes flicking up to you as he sets a red pen down on the desk.

“Yes, miss (y/l/n). You haven’t been paying attention in my lectures.” You look down at your hands clasped in front of you, nerves and shame beginning to eat at your resolve.

“I apologize, I’ve been tired lately,” you lie, sticking with your story from earlier.

“And yet you have one of the highest grades in the class.” You keep your eyes glued to your hands, which are now fidgeting nervously. The silence is beginning to nag at your mind, your nerves buzzing.

“I think you’re lying to me.” Your eyes widen momentarily, then you force a confused expression as you look up at your professor.

“I’m not sure what you mean…” He leans forward in his chair, his elbows holding his weight on his desk.

“I mean I think you’re distracted for other reasons. If you were struggling to sleep it would be evident. I’m a prime example,” he motions to his face. You bite the inside of your lip, your heart thumping loud in your ears.

“W-what other reasons would I be distracted?” He stands up and slowly makes his way around his desk, stopping mere inches in front of you. The close proximity has your breath shallowing and your heart pounding. You keep your eyes locked onto his, something akin to fear - no, maybe it's closer to obedience - not letting you look away. He narrows his eyes at you, a skeptical but knowing look.

“Don’t think I didn’t catch that little title you let slip in class earlier.” Your eyes blow wide, your breath hitching in your throat. He walked to the door, locked it and walked back to you, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“I d-don’t…” Your words fall short when he leans down, his breath hot on your ear and neck.

“Don’t lie. What was it you almost called me?” Your body shook, your breaths jagged, but you don't answer. At your silence, he nearly growled in your ear. His left arm snakes around your waist, pulling your body into his. His right hand comes up under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Answer me, kitten.” The commanding tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. You take a small breath before closing your eyes and answering.

“D-daddy. I...almost called you daddy.” He hums, the sound rumbling through your body.

“Open your eyes. Look at me.” You obey nearly instantly, swallowing as you meet his gaze. He let out a small sigh, words ghosted from his lips.

“Good girl.” The praise makes your entire body shudder, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Now, tell me why you would call your professor ‘daddy’ so automatically.” You felt your face burn, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your veins.

“I… I think about you… at night…” He tilts his head and quirks a brow, urging you to continue. Your voice is shaky, your eyes struggling to keep eye contact as you reveal your darkest secrets to the man at the center of them.

“I call you daddy when I’m alone in bed…”

“Or when you’re in the middle of a lecture.” You bite your bottom lip and nod as he finishes your sentence.

“Such a naughty little girl, aren’t you. What should you say when you do something wrong?” You swallow thickly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry.” His hand under your jaw turns and grips it hard, just enough to make you wince.

“I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes widen and your jaw quivers. Is he asking what you think he is?

“I-I’m sorry… Daddy." His grip on your jaw loosens as he turns your face to the side, leaning in and leaving a kiss under your ear.

“That's right. Such a good girl.” Your body shakes again, the feeling of his scruff on your cheek, his lips on your skin, and his voice in your ear, making your body react on its own.

“Do you have classes tomorrow, kitten?” You search your brain for the information he’s asking for, closing your eyes in concentration. After a few moments, you find the answer.

“N-no…” He pulls completely away from you, moving behind his desk and leaving you dazed. You watch, your body still recovering from whatever just happened, as he gathers his belongings. He holds the door open, turning to you.

“Come now kitten.” You blink at him, your mind trying to make sense of the situation. You follow him anyway, letting your body move on its own.

He’s a few steps ahead of you, and you follow him as he walks to his car, opening the passenger door. You get in, not quite able to question what’s happening, but trusting the man regardless. Soon the car pulls into a driveway, and you get out and follow the black haired man into the house, still dazed. His voice brings your attention to him, his hand under your chin again.

“Do you want this, kitten?” You nod.

“Use your voice, pretty girl.” God, hearing the praise is making your head spin.

“Yes. I want you Daddy.” His thumb strokes your cheek idly, grounding you in the moment.

“Good girl. Do you know what a safeword is?” You nod, the concept is more than familiar.

“Yes Daddy.”

“Do you have one?” Another nod.

“Gemini.” His hand lifts your chin gently as he leans down and slots his lips against yours. Your body relaxes, sinking into the kiss, focused on the sensations of his touch. His lips are soft, gentle, and his hands smooth down your back, landing on your hips.

He separates from you, looking down at your half-lidded eyes and blissed out state. You're already slipping into subspace. Your mind is floating, wanting to zero in on something. Anything. Your eyes aren’t quite focused, searching Aizawa’s face for a focal point. He recognizes that look. You need a platform to stand on, an anchor, and you need it desperately. He grabs your wrist and pulls you along behind him. He reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a small, but sturdy, black fabric choker. A play collar. Moving behind you, he loops it around you and clasped it at the back of your neck. When it's secure, he quickly moves in front of you and loops his finger under the material, giving a gentle tug. You shudder and take a deep breath, your eyes fluttering closed. It was enough. He hums, stroking your cheek gently.

“Is that better kitty?” You open your eyes to look up into his, and he swears there are hearts shining in them.

“Yes. Thank you daddy.” He pulls you into another kiss, this one more passionate. When his tongue licked at your lips you let your mouth fall open, his tongue searching the wet cavern fervently. He pulls away and tugs your sweater up over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room, doing the same with your bra. With your top half bare he pushes you backward until your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it. He leans over you, leaving soft kisses along your collarbones as he removes your jeans and panties.

Completely naked, he lets his eyes rake over your form laid out in front of him. A small, elated sigh rolls from his lips.

“So pretty, kitten.” Your eyes flutter closed from the praise.

“Thank you Daddy.” Aizawa groans and leans down to kiss and lick at your neck, letting his hands smooth over your hips and legs.

“Such a good girl. So obedient for Daddy.” He feels your body shiver beneath his fingers from that bit of praise. Getting up off the bed he reaches into a different drawer, pulling out three bundles of rope. Turning back to you, he gives a command.

“Middle of the bed, kitten. On your back, arms up.” At the order, you move, getting into the position he specified. 

He crawls over and begins to tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard, the rope secure, but not too tight to be uncomfortable. When he’s done with your wrists, he moves down to your legs. One by one, he lifts them and bends them at the knee, tying your ankle to your upper thigh, and spiraling the rope up to your knee, tying knots down one side and up the other in a beautiful leg tie. Finished with his task, he leans back to admire his work. You’re nearly purring. You know how much you love being restrained, and this man had made you into an artwork, laying out for his eyes, completely at his mercy. He can see the doe-eyes you're giving him, see how still you're being, how trusting you are of him to take care of you. And he loves it.

He moves between your legs, you automatically spread them to give him room, and he leans over, whispering against your lips.

“Such a good girl for me,” before giving you a soft kiss.

“Stay still for me, pretty thing.” He gets off the bed and swiftly undresses, returning to you. You sigh out, elated as your eyes trace down his toned body, drinking in the sight of thick corded muscle rippling under scarred skin. Your gaze lands on his already erect member, thick and long, a prominent vein running underneath. You’d imagined what he could look like, but reality far outshone your imagination. The sheer awe shone through in your voice.

“You’re beautiful.” His eyebrows raise slightly, surprised at your words. Leaning down, he kisses your neck sweetly.

“Thank you kitten. Now let me take care of you.” Back between your legs, he sits on his knees and kneads your breasts in his hands, pulling and tweaking your already hardened nipples, making you mewl. Your skin feels hot at his touch, your body relishing in the pleasure his fingers give you. He leans down and takes a bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking it before pulling off with a small pop and moving to the other, giving it the same treatment. Rough hands grope and knead down your body, giving appreciative squeezes at your hips, before smoothing his palms down your pelvis. He sits back on his heels and gazes at your glistening pussy, already dripping with arousal. Swiping a finger up your slit, he gathers the slick there and brings it up to his lips, sucking your juices off his finger with a groan.

“You taste so sweet kitty.” You respond with a mewl and another ‘thank you’. He takes his finger and slides it into your heat, and you sigh at the sensation as he pumps it slowly, before adding a second finger. The stretch is wonderful, and he begins to curl and scissor his fingers, searching. You let out a small moan and your back arches slightly off the bed when his fingers curl and hit that spongy spot inside you.

“There it is. Does that feel good kitty?” You nod, floating on bliss.

“Yes, Daddy, it feels good.” He hums and returns his attention back to the task at hand, increasing his pace as he pumps his fingers. His other hand comes up to your pelvis, and his mouth latches onto your clit. The stimulation has you gasping and squirming under his ministrations, and the hand on your pelvis holds you still.

He slips his fingers out and holds them to your lips, and you open your mouth to suck your essence off of them.

You can feel the coil in your belly tighten, winding up as Aizawa hits all the right spots inside you that has you softly moaning and straining against your bindings. Your wet walls are fluttering around his fingers, his tongue lashing at your puffy nub.

“I can feel you. Cum for me kitty.” He reattaches his mouth to your clit and sucks harshly, his fingers digging into that soft patch inside you, and your walls clamp down as you come apart, the muscles in your abdomen tensing and arching your back off the bed. Aizawa releases your clit, but keeps pumping his fingers, letting you ride out your high.

“Such a good girl, kitty.” He pulls your hips up onto his knees as he rubs his painfully hard cock up and down your core, gathering the slick on his shaft. You desperately want to feel him inside you, but you still yourself and hold back your begging mewls. Your resilience and need to be obedient and good for him makes Aizawa groan.

“I want to hear you, kitten. Every sound you need to make, I want to hear it.” He lines himself up with your slicked hole as you nod. With that he pushes his cock into you, and you mewl out at the delicious stretch he’s giving you. You’re both panting as he bottoms out inside you and holds still, allowing you to adjust to him.

“You’re so tight babygirl. Feels so good inside you.” He grips your hips and begins a slow pace, grinding into you, making you moan and squirm, but it’s not enough.

“Please Daddy, harder, please.” The near growl that escapes him has you reeling.

“Since you asked so nicely, kitten.” He pulls out almost completely before slamming into you and setting a brutal pace, and you’re moaning out loud, your voice a sinful melody in Aizawa’s ears. Your limbs are struggling against the restraints, tugging and flexing hard. Before you know it, that coil is tightening again, pulling taut in the pit of your stomach, searing white hot pleasure pooling like magma. Your walls are fluttering again, and Aizawa reaches down to rub tight circles onto your clit, urging you to come undone. He’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, and as you feel yourself coming to that edge his hips begin to stutter, making known he’s close too. He angles his hips and ruts into you, hitting your g-spot mercilessly, and you’re pushed off the edge, moaning loud, toes curling, cumming hard and clamping down on his cock. A few more strokes, and he pulls out as he’s cumming, covering your chest and belly in his hot, thick cum. 

You’re both panting as you come down from your highs, exhausted and spent. After a few minutes, Aizawa gets up and disappears behind a door, returning with a damp washcloth. He cleans his cum off of you and tosses the cloth into a hamper, before beginning to untie your legs. Once they’re both free, he slowly pulls them out and massages them, relieving the slightly cramped muscles, and you’re sighing gratefully as the tension in your body is released. He does the same with your arms as you lay there, your body weak. When he’s done, he puts a palm on your cheek, and you nuzzle into his touch, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“How are you feeling kitty?” You let the tears fall, the intensity of the night beginning to take a toll on your mind. He pulls your body into him, cradling you as you cry quietly, letting you ride out the emotions.

He rocks you in his arms, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering praises into your ear, until your cries subside into small hiccups. He leans back and looks down at you, nuzzling into his chest.

“You okay, (y/n)?” You nod and take deep breaths, relaxing in his arms.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” He hums and lifts you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom. He plugs the drain and turns the handle, letting the tub fill with warm water. As it fills, he holds you close and places soft kisses on your face and lips, showering you with affection. When the tub is full he turns off the tap and sinks down into the water, your back to his chest, and the warm water soothes your aching body. Aizawa grabs the soap and washes you, massaging you as he goes. He scrubs shampoo into your hair, fingers massaging into your scalp making you hum appreciatively. He washes himself, then drains the tub and turns on the shower head to rinse the both of you. 

When you’re all rinsed, he steps out and dries himself with a towel, before helping you out and wrapping you with a fluffy towel of your own. Dried off, you leave the towel on the counter, and Aizawa scoops you up again and lays you down on the bed. He disappears again for a minute, and reappears with a glass of ice water, giving it to you to drink and climbing into bed.

When you finish sipping at the water, you leave it on the bedside table. Before you can move to get your clothes back on, Aizawa pulls you back into his chest, spooning you with his warm body.

“Sleep,” he grunts into your ear. You're too tired to argue, so you relax in his hold and let the blackness take over your mind.

You wake up in your professor’s arms. You turn to look at him, admiring his sleeping face. His voice startles you.

“It’s not very polite to stare.” Your face heats a little and you look away, suddenly shy.

“S-sorry.” He pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck.

“It’s alright.” You sigh at the realization that this is going to end, that it has to end. You can’t share a bed with this man while you're his student, it could ruin both of you, moreso him. So you begin to move out of his arms, but he holds you tighter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You sigh, a tired, sad sound.

“This can’t continue, Mr. - ”

“Shouta.” You blink.

“What?” He grunts, clearly unbothered.

“Call me Shouta.” You swallow down the lump in your throat.

“Shouta...this…can’t become a thing. You know that.” You can feel his breath on your neck as he sighs, and he releases you from his hold. Silently, you dress yourself. You dare to take a look back at him before you leave.

“Thank you, Shouta. I wish things were a little bit different.” He nods, whether in agreement or understanding you aren't sure.

“I’ll see you in class in a few days, (y/n).” You give a soft smile, and leave.

____

The few months before graduation were agonizing. Having to see Shouta three times a week drove you absolutely mad, and when you finally graduated you were almost happy that you didn’t have to see him again. But it was just as painful not seeing him. Your mind was riddled with the dark haired man for months after graduating. You’d lay awake at night wondering if you made the right choice, wondering if somehow you two could have met more often and kept the rendezvous a secret. Often you found yourself letting a few stray tears fall, wishing you’d been able to stay in bed with Shouta longer that morning. You were miserable. And you knew it was because even if the only intimacy you’d shared was the best sex you ever had, you had fallen madly, hilariously in love with your college physics professor.

____

Shouta stared up at his ceiling for what felt like the millionth time. His mind is on you. Always you. After you graduated, he knew he’d never see you again. And it killed him. Nearly 6 months had gone by, and he's still stuck on you, on your body. On your obedience. On your beautiful face sitting in his lecture hall. He’d seen you on the first day, and he was entranced by you nearly instantly. You were extremely smart, and he loved that. But he was a professional, a professor. Your professor. And you were his student. So he buried that attraction he felt and made sure to never let you see how much he wanted you. He only noticed you dazing off during class because he’d glance at you more often than he’d like to admit. He let it go, simply because your grades remained high. But that day he just happened to ask the class a question, and when nobody answered, he went to you because he knew how intelligent you were.

But when your words slipped from your mouth, something in him snapped. He knew there were very few explanations for you to use that title, all of them being you were thinking of someone using it. And by the near instant speed of your response, he could guess who was on your mind. That night was pure bliss. He loved every moment, and never regretted it. Even as you thanked him and walked out of his house, even knowing he may never get to spend another night with you, he didn’t regret anything. He let you walk away because that was the best thing to do. After you graduated, he could approach you again, and he’d get you back. But he couldn’t find you. 

In the time since graduation he’d told his best friend and fellow professor Hizashi Yamada about the complex situation. Hizashi felt for him, knowing when Shouta fell, he fell hard, and the situation is a bad one. He was never judgemental, as he’d had his fair share of forbidden romances. The blonde would visit him in class often, bringing a fresh cup of coffee for his sulking friend. The loss was affecting him more than he liked to admit, and his sleeping habits were bad enough as it is. Hizashi’s visits were always welcome, and a nice distraction, even if they were short. But he was still hooked on you.

He's sick of feeling so defeated. He's tired of feeling so lovesick. He needs a distraction. He needs coffee. He got up and showered, and got ready to drive to the nearest cafe a mile down the road. As he stood in line to order his coffee, he let his eyes wander the cafe, drinking in the soft pastel colors on the walls. It reminds him of you. You’d always wear pastel sweaters. Once again, his mind drifted and landed on you. 

And so did his eyes.

____

You had a day off work today. Deciding you didn’t want to sit around the house and sulk like you usually do, you took a shower, got dressed, grabbed your keys, wallet, phone, and a book to read, and headed to the cafe on the corner two blocks from your apartment. Sitting in the plush seat of the booth with your hot mocha latte, you cracked the book open and dove in. You got lost in the words on the pages, your mind living in the adventure written in black ink. You were ripped from your imagination when a deep voice interrupted you.

“Do you mind if I join you, kitten?” Your eyes froze on the page, jaw clenched, heart beating out of your chest. You tore your eyes from the book and looked up at none other than Shouta Aizawa. 

You haven’t seen him in almost 6 months, and the man still plagued your thoughts. But the sheer joy you felt seeing him overtook you as tears fell from your eyes. Not even a moment later, you leapt from your seat and threw your arms around his shoulders. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight, afraid you’d slip from him again. You cry softly into his shoulder, letting yourself enjoy the moment with the man you know you love. You can’t help the words coming out of your mouth.

“I missed you so much, Shouta. I couldn’t stand not seeing you.” Somehow, he holds you tighter.

“I missed you too, kitten.” He reaches a hand up to pet your hair as he leans back, his dark eyes peering deep into your own.

“I’m here now. And you’re not my student anymore. So if you’d let me, I’d like to take you on a date.”

You freeze in place and look up at him, shocked at what you're hearing. You don’t know if he loves you the way you do him, but in this moment you know he has very real feelings for you. Like it's instinct, you lean in and kiss him passionately, letting your tears wash away the pain you felt ever since you left him that morning. When you broke away you were both breathless, and you nod your head frantically.

“I’d love to go on a date with you Shouta.” A genuine smile spreads across his face, a clear show of his happiness.

“Would you like to come back to my place?” You nod again, and grab your book and phone and follow him out to his car.

This time, you had no reason to leave.

This time, he had no reason to let you go.

This time, you’d stay.

#aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #professor aizawa #bnha college au #aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta

[mhathotfic]

Soft yan erasermic for the young pretty thing working at put your hands up radio -🐻

I think some head canons are in order here

Warnings: implied stalking, obsessive behaviors, non-descriptive age gap, soft yandere tendencies

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x reader x Hizashi Yamada

-I see them being together before meeting her

-They’ve obviously known each other sense forever ago and due to it they never really noticed their own problematic tendencies when it comes to love

-It wasn’t weird to stop certain people from getting close to the other

-Always being together and following each other’s every movement was perfectly natural and expected

-They saw it as being romantic and protective

-So the same behaviors was definitely extended towards her once they got used to them and started falling

-This didn’t start out as romantic interest

-It was genuinely just a friendly mentor/mentee relationship between mic and her at first

-He just wanted to help out a newbie and all that

-But their real cute

-Hard to ignore, really cute

-Soon enough he starts getting comfortable, starts watching for her more and giving her unprompted gifts just because

-He even starts missing her when she’s not right there

-He feels so guilty, he has a wonderful partner!

-Shouta has always been there for him, always understood him and loved him

-But it wasn’t like he wanted to leave him or cheat! He just wants them both

-He wants to share her with him, to a nice little life spoiling each other and taking care of the pretty young lady that waltzed into their lives

-So naturally he tells Shou about it after his shift

-And naturally he’s annoyed about it, at first at least

-He didn’t like the idea of sharing

-Especially not with a pretty little young thing that could easily steal Hizashi away from him

-But if he could keep an eye on them, make sure she wasn’t trying anything then he could be assured that he still had his husband and scare off the competition

-That’s out the window he meets her and she just radiates an energy that practically screams ‘naive and too trusting, someone please take care of me’ and suddenly he gets it

-She like a baby doll, a shiny new toy to play house with

-He can’t say he’s entirely on board yet, but he’s interested

-They start properly courting them slowly

-Invites to work lunches, then diners at theirs and casual flirting that they’re carful to keep as as vague as possible so it’s up to interpretation

-Soon enough it’s breakfast dates at hers after spending the night when she insisted it was too late to head on their own

-It’s ‘randomly’ running into them during a patrol or just grocery shopping

-It’s doing everything that they can to show themselves as potential the only options for partners

-Somewhere along the line Shouta falls just as hard for as Hizashi did

-Wanting just as badly to have them with and play a happy family with them and love them the only way they know how to

-And just around the same time their little darling wised up to them

-They’re pretty harmless though and if this was the trade off for a life of luxury and two handsome men that loved her then it wasn’t so bad

#nat chats #🐻 anon #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #yandere aizawa x reader #hizashi yamada ​x reader #hizashi ​​x reader #yamada x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #yandere present mic

[nasaty]

Vieux Carré

Shouta Aizawa x (she/her) reader. Angst, fluff, and smut! This is a choose your own ending! There are three separate endings and a few choices. 15 part series.

TW: Panic attack things. Ends up fine.

Ch. 5

The next morning, you found yourself thinking of him as you woke up. You picked up your phone and dialed his number.

“Hey Eraser. You around today?”

“Of course. I’ll make my self around for you.”

His deep voice made you shutter. God, he was such a flirt. Maybe he just does this to all women, or men, or anyone. Maybe he just does it to be an ass.

“I’m working again tonight if you and Hizashi want to come by later.” You offered.

“We’ll come before patrolling tonight this time so we don’t end up ditching you again.” You could practically hear him wink.

“Okay, well we don’t open until 6pm”

“That’s alright, we don’t patrol till 11 tonight anyway.”

“Damn that sucks. You really have no time to sleep.”

“Yeah…I only really sleep in between school and patrol…if you don’t count my naps in class,” he mumbled.

You giggled, “So you usually sleep around the time you’re going to come to the bar then? Will you be okay?”

“Oh yeah I’m always tired. It’s okay. I’ll have someone do a presentation in class tomorrow while I sleep.”

“HAH is that what thats for?”

“Absolutely, I don’t really trust anyone else to teach my kids for me.”

Somehow that seemed kind of sweet. Maybe recovery girl was right, he is a softy.

“So you really like teaching then?”

“Oh absolutely not.”

You cracked up. You could tell he was beaming on the other side of the phone.

“Well maybe I’ll get to hear about it tonight then.”

“We’ll see.” He brings back that playfulness again.

“I’ll talk to you later, Eraser.”

“Please, call me Shouta”

“Alright, Shouta, see you later tonight.”

“See you tonight, y/n.”

The sound of his voice saying your name made you feel warm.

~~~~~~

The evening came and you made your way to the bar. You flipped the sign over for the nth time in your life, and couple minutes later Hizashi and Shouta showed up followed by another woman.

She was tall with legs for days, dark hair down to her ass and was wearing a skin tight suit, visually differed quite a bit from the two men. She’s intimidatingly attractive and has a sultry look on her face. You couldn’t tell if you want to fuck her or be her.

“HEYYY y/n!!! This place is NEAT. Hope it’s okay that we brought a friend, she’s a hero too. Her name is Midnight.”

“So you guys travel in packs?” You joke.

Hizashi laughed loud and hard and smacked his knee. The other two chuckled and Shouta plugged his ear that was closest to Hizashi with his finger. You turned to Midnight.

“Nice to meet you Midnight, I’m y/n.” You held your hand out to shake.

“Please, call me Nemuri. Or anything you’d like, I’ll listen to you call me whatever you want-“ you blushed she turned your hand and pulled it to her to kiss it -

Shouta’s hand flew in and smacked Nemuris away. He rolled his eyes “Nemuri, keep yourself off of her please.” He looked even more tired that usual somehow.

“Oh I’m sure she doesn’t mind…” she winked at you, then leaned over to Hizashi. “Did you already call dibs or something?” She tries to ask him quietly. Hizashi opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted.

“Nemuri. She is a person.” Shouta breathed.

You giggle at their back and forth and change the subject, “What would you guys like to drink?”

Hizashi got some sort of fruity drink and Nemuri copied him. They had halfway downed it before you got to Shouta. Shouta said he didn’t need anything.

“Shouta come on, just because you were a shit last time doesnt mean you can’t have something today” you teased.

“LAST TIME?” Hizashi exclaimed.

“Oh so YOU called dibs.” Nemuri deduced looking at Shouta.

Shouta looked at them surprised and shrunk down in his seat, blush across his face. He was so shy around everyone else it was surprising he said so much to you.

“He showed up the other night and made himself a drink, it was pretty funny.” You told them.

They both turned to him with their jaws on the floor. He deserved this. You got put on the spot multiple times the other day and covered for him, so he could take a little teasing from his friends tonight.

“Daaaaamn Eraser, that’s bold!” Hizashi said.

As they were relentlessly teasing him, you looked over to Shouta and tried to determine what kind of drink he may like. Probably something with coffee in it for tonight.

You made him a White Russian and slid it over to him with a smirk. He mouthed a ‘thank you’ as they continued to berate him. You kept working as a couple other customers were in the bar, but the bar was never busy, especially on a cold night like this.

They spend time joking around and teasing, inviting you into conversation whenever there was a lull in work to do. They drank a few drinks and ended with some waters, paid out their tab and tipped generously.

“We gotta do this again sometime, y/n!” Nemuri says.

“Yeah next time let’s go somewhere where you don’t have to work!” Hizashi adds.

“See ya around” Shouta breathed as all three of them walked out.

You finished your shift at around 4am, later than usual but there were a few people hanging around late and you didn’t mind since you didn’t work the next day. You closed up, cleaned up, and went out the back door to walk home. You heard a voice from nowhere.

“Could I walk you home?” In the distance, Shouta emerged from the shadows. You jumped, it had reminded you of the night when you met and that villain attacked you.

“Shit Shouta…you scared the shit out of me…” You tried to calm down but your body disobeyed you and you started shaking.

“Heh I didn’t think I was that scary-“ He stopped and noticed your behavior. “Are you okay…?” He made his way towards you cautiously and gently.

“I….no…I don’t know...” your face went hot and tears stung your eyes. You sat on the ground to get your bearings. Your stomach twisted. Shouta ran over to you as you fell.

“Can I…?” He held his hands near each of your shoulders to ask permission to touch you but you nodded before he could even finish asking. He put his hands on either side of you and rubbed your arms up and down slowly, “it’s okay….everything is okay… I’m so sorry.”

You sat on the ground with your arms wrapped around yourself and tried to steady your breathing.

He pleaded. “Can I do anything to help? Do you want me to shut up?”

You shook your head no at both questions. He was actually helping just a little. It’d been a long time since you’d had a panic attack.

As you both sat on the ground outside the back of the bar in the dim light for a few minutes, he continued to soothe you with his words and held you in his arms.

After some time you calmed down a little and were able to speak, “We need to put a bell on you or something.”

He chuckled and gave you a pitiful smile. “I can live with that... What’s going on, do you want to talk about it?” He said as he pushed a hair away from your face.

You shake your head no, “I’m okay…thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course, it’s my job.” he winked.

“No it’s not.”

“No…it’s not. But I’ll do it anyway. Can I please give you a walk home?” He asked.

You appreciated that he asked to just walk with you rather than assuming or asking if you wanted assistance. Of course you didn’t want it, you didn’t want it to be necessary. But unfortunately it was as you had seen before.

“Yes please.”

He stood and held out his arms out to you to help you up.

“Are you good to walk?”

“Yeah… I think I’m fine.”

You started to walk home in still silence for a few minutes.

“…I thought you were on patrol? That’s not a long shift,” you asked.

“Hizashi and I overlap…and…I was worried about you.”

“What happened to ‘seems like you could handle it’?”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it.”

Damn. He actually listened to you.

“I…thank you.” You said.

“Anytime.” He offered. His voice was so pure and caring you could melt.

As you made it back to your house, he walked you to the door.

“We’ll have to do this again sometime. Well not …this specifically..just like-“

You laughed “I get it, Shouta.” He smiled.

On the porch, you gazed at each other softly for a moment, and somehow it wasn’t awkward. You realized that you want to kiss him. Badly.

“I…uh…” not knowing what to say, you just moved forward to lean against his chest and kiss him. Slow enough that he could step back if he didn’t want to, but, he didn’t step back.

He kissed very gently. His lips were slightly chapped but soft, and his stubble grazed against your chin. He reached up slowly to hold your face in his hand, resting his thumb on your jaw. You eventually pulled away.

He hummed. “…I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted, blushing and looking away.

“Do you want to come inside?” You said, turning and putting your keys in the lock. ‘Maybe I could’ve worded that differently’ you thought.

“I would, but ….I think you’re a little too fragile tonight. I don’t want to take advantage of your emotions like that. Maybe another night if you still want me to? Sorry if that’s….rude.”

“Thank you, Shouta.” You beamed.

“What did I do?” He sounded excited to have done some good.

“You’re just…sweet.”

He blushed and hummed happily.

“I’ll see you around, y/n. Call me if you need anything.”

“Goodnight Shouta.”

“Goodnight.”

Go to ch. 6

#aizawa fanfiction #aizawa x female reader #bnha aizawa #hizashi yamada #bnha #mha #nemuri kayama #aizawa slow burn #aizawa angst #aizawa smut #shouta aizawa

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ aizawa shouta x reader → “away”

summary: you had been gone all week on a mission with hawks and it gets to aizawa word count: 1.3k+ tags/warnings: light angst, happy ending, arguments a/n: this was requested by @winnies-headcannons​ , thank you!! it’s a challenge to write arguments and keep them in character

Aizawa Shouta was a rational man and a mature one at that. He wasn’t a teenager or even a young adult who was quick to jump to conclusions or act out emotions without thinking. But everyone had their moments.

Aizawa loved you and trusted you fully. When you said that he was the only one for you he believed you even if he couldn’t understand why you would pick an old man like him.

But it had been a bad week. You were both busy. He had his hands full with class 1A and on top of it, his hero work was especially troublesome. As a nice addition, he had been feeling depressed. What made it all the worse was you had been busy too.

You were a top ten hero, it was understandable that you’d be busy. Normally you made time to be home with him as much as possible but you had a lot going on. There was an important mission you had been on. That wasn’t his problem.

The issue is who you had the mission with. Hawks. You were both top ten heroes in their early twenties so it was only normal that you’d end up working together at times. Aizawa could deal with that, he trusted you but it had been a bad week.

It started with pictures of you and Hawks on the news, you had been taking a coffee break but the media saw it as the possible beginning of a new relationship. He wouldn’t blame you for the media, if anything it was his fault for wanting to avoid going public with your relationship. But Aizawa was still a man and seeing everyone get excited about you and Hawks being together upset him.

Then you had been working so much you weren’t even coming home and your texts were far and few between. He understood he had been on missions like that but it still hurt. It wasn’t your fault but he wanted you around, needed you even. But he had to be an adult and brush it aside. He didn’t expect you to drop your mission and put people in danger for his sake.

When you did call to check up on him he could hear Hawks in the background, teasing you and laughing. Interrupting the call, making you laugh and apologize for being distracted. Why did he hate how Hawks made you laugh? Aizawa wasn’t known for being funny but he loved it when he made a joke and it got a laugh from you. You had such a cute laugh. But Hawks doing the same made his stomach churn.

More photos found there way on the news and you looked so close to Hawks, nearly arm and arm as you laughed at something he said. Aizawa hated it, he hated this feeling he knew you would never cheat but seeing you with him made him realize that he couldn’t compare.

Hawks was your age, he was a high ranked hero, he wasn’t burdened with everything Aizawa was burdened with. He wasn’t scarred up or constantly napping to cope with his lifestyle. Hawks was better for you and that’s all he could think.

All week his thoughts terrorized him. All he could think about was Hawks and you. The pictures were burned into his head. The way he made you laugh. He was miserable.

“Baby, I’m home.” You said as you opened the front door, tossing your bag to the ground.

Finally, you were home but instead of the relief, he expected his bad mood only worsened. When he looked at you all he could think was you’d be better off with Hawks.

“You’re going to just throw your stuff around?” He asked in an annoyed tone. You looked at him taken aback by what he said.

“I’m sorry.” You said, grabbing the bag walking to the bedroom to put it there for the time being. “I’m just so tired.”

“Of course you are.” He said, not looking away from his book. “I’m sure Hawks kept you busy.”

You looked at him with your eyebrows pulled together. Walking to the couch he was sitting on, you sat down next to him. You expected him to pull you into a hug at the very least but he didn’t even look at you. It hurt your heart.

“Shouta, did I do something to upset you?” You asked cautiously. You hadn’t even been home all week.

“Why don’t you just run back to Hawks, I’m sure he can give you what you want.” He said to you in a biting tone.

You stared at him in disbelief. Hawks? Was he jealous of Hawks? You had just had an awful week on a rough mission where you lost people you were supposed to save and the one person you wanted to comfort you was accusing you of having feelings for someone else?

The tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. You just wanted to come home and hug Shouta, remind yourself that you were alive and he was alive. You wanted him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay, that you were still a good hero even if you didn’t save them all.

“I really missed you and I had a really hard week and all I wanted to do was come home to you and you’re accusing me of that?” Your watery eyes and broken tone tore him apart. “I-I thought you trusted me, what did I ever do to make you not trust me?”

The sight of your tears running down your face killed him and he felt like the worst person on the face of the planet. He did trust you, more than anyone. He didn’t actually think you did anything but his anxiety, his depression, made it so hard for him to not snap. He hated himself for saying that.

Now that he looked at you he could see how run down you looked, you had dark circles under your eyes, you had scratches and bruises all over, your eyes were already red before you started crying. He hadn’t even thought that you were suffering just as much as him if not more.

“Baby, no. I’m sorry.” He said pulling you into his embrace. Thankfully you didn’t push him away. He deserved it at this point. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

You shuttered in his arms, sobbing quietly. He ran his hand up and down your back like he knew you loved, pressing his forehead against your hair.

“I trust you more than anything, I know you would never do that.” He said. “I was having a bad week too, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry.”

Your cries calmed down and you pulled back looking at him.

“You know I would never.” You said, your tone still wobbly.

“I know, I know you wouldn’t.” He said, cupping your cheek in his hand. “I just kept seeing pictures of you together and everyone talking about what a perfect couple you’d be. I guess I started to think they were right, you shouldn’t waste your time with me.”

“Shouta, no one, I mean no one could ever compare to you.” You said in a serious tone. “Hawks is a fun guy but he gets on my nerves after a while. I’ve been dying to come home to you all week. You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, I know there’s no one else out there for me.” You told him.

Aizawa looked into your eyes, taking in your words. He knew they were true even if it was hard to believe it. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss against your lips.

“I’m sorry, can you forgive me?” He asked.

“Of course, Shouta. We all have our moments. We both know you’ve seen plenty of mine.” You teased.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” He asked, stroking your arm.

“Not right now, can you just hold me?” You asked.

Shouta pulled you into his arms, laying down on the couch. With a deep breath in unison, you both knew you were safe now. Things would be better now that you had each other close and whatever feelings from the week that had existed could slowly melt away in each other’s embrace.

taglist:  @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @softkatsuki @x0doodlebug0x @katsuhoee

#aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my writing #requests

[bakugohoex]

Idk your feelings but what about a student confiding in Aizawa about being part of LGBTQ? I'm not able to come out in my household because of my parents views, but it feels like Aizawa would be a good person to confide in.

”i’ll always support you”

pairing: platonic!shouta aizawa x platonic!gender neutral reader

cw: platonic!, angst, fluff

word count: 1000+

a/n: this is something different, i hope this is something you liked and i know it can be hard to be yourself when you’re hiding your sexuality from your parents, but i hope you know and anybody else who doesn't have support that i’m always here to talk and i will never discriminate against someone just because of there sexuality

summary:  in which you confide in your teacher about your sexuality and he brings you the support your parents never gave you

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

The sound of the class being dismissed filled the air; you’d have to go home. A home that didn’t feel like home, the stigma around your sexuality that you had been hiding for so long now. The mocking from your parents, the threats of even coming out had arisen in your household. Even with having gotten into the best school for becoming a pro hero, you’d thought it’d bring about your parents to be proud of you. But if you ever confessed about your true sexuality, the disgust and horror would erupt from them, even kicking you out. 

You were never yourself, even at school you were worried people would find out and relay it back to your parents. The fear of fighting villains was incomparable to your fear of coming out, you slowly packed your bags. You didn't want to be at home, you wanted a safe space and at the moment in time it felt like being alone in the room was it. 

“Y/n, class has ended.” Aizawa spoke in his sleeping bag, he wanted to leave as soon as he could. Knowing he could get in another nap before the meeting regarding the recent Hosu incident that had happened prior.

You couldn't admit it but being away from your house for the week, with a pro hero you had gotten comfortable enough with to act yourself had been relieving. Being out and helping the pro heroes had made you happy and you didn't have to try and hide your true self. You look at your teacher, he had been nice most of the time and you had been thinking about revealing it all to someone. 

He looked back at your small form, he always thought you’d become an amazing pro hero, with a quirk like yours and the smarts. He had hoped that you wouldn't become some unknown hero, he saw that you’d become better than him in a couple years. But seeing how your eyes were tense, the normal calm student he had seen for months now had become almost scared. “Y/n.” He repeated your name.

“Can I...can I tell you something?” Your stuttering had made the man get out of his sleeping bag, he walked towards you seeing how tears formed from your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He spoke quickly looking at you, “is everything okay?”

You turn to face him, he sees how you tried to wipe the tears away, trying to stop the sobs. “I...I…” You could barely breathe, heavy breaths just trying to form the words, but how could you tell him, would he react how your parents might? A prominent feeling in your chest made it harder to breathe, the confident person you were had been swept away and you became a scared child.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Aizawa directed you to the chair, making you sit down, you were weak, and he could see more tears form in your dull eyes. 

You felt yourself fidget more, your leg tapping away as your fingers played with each. He noticed how your lip quivered, bringing his hand to your shoulder to provide some comfort. “I...I don’t normally, cry, sorry sir.” You mutter as he gives you a saddened look.

“You don’t need to apologise for crying.” He tries to meet your gaze but even then, sitting opposite you, you felt scared, fearful even that he would send you away as an unknowing teen. “What’s going on?”

“I’m (insert sexuality).” You hiccupped out, the way he looked at you softly with a bright smile on his face.

“Were you worried about the class and I wouldn't accept you?” He questions rubbing your shoulder in familiar comfort. “Y/n, whoever you like, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to be an amazing pro hero one day.” 

You hadn't said a word, still anxious about it all. “Is there something more?” The Aizawa you had met on the first day, so filled with coldness and a lack of apathy. But now bringing you a comfort you hadn't gotten from your parents; he was providing you with the adult familiarity that you needed.

“My...my parents don’t…” You hesitated not knowing if you should even talk about family matters with him. You saw how he urged you to continue, wanting to hear your voice and how you felt surrounding it all. “They don’t accept that kind of thing.”

“Y/n.” He whispers softly, “the class and I will always support you, you know, that right?” It was comforting but you still felt on edge with it all. “You haven’t told your friends yet?”

You shake your head, how could you admit to him that you felt fearful of even telling your friends, people who you were supposed to trust. People who were supposed to support you and have your back. “I’d never pressure you to tell them, but just know that they’re reaction will be like mine, if you need to talk some more about this, we can talk about it tomorrow, your parents will be worried about you and it's summer break soon. Hopefully, you'll be more comfortable when we go on that training camp.” You nod grabbing your stuff.

Just as you walked out you heard your name again, “Y/n, your sexuality really doesn't change my opinion on you, I’ll always support you.”

It was something you needed to hear; he still saw you in the same way. You would always be the future pro hero that he had high hopes for. The tears stopped coming from your eyes as you walked out from the gates. You were happy to say the least but the sight that had stopped you in tracks was confusing. Midoriya, Iida, Todoroki and Ururaka all stood talking, you gave a confused look before Midoriya spoke, “we didn’t know how long you’d be, but we waited to walk home.”

You smiled at the group, Aizawa was right they would accept you. You were there friend after all, they’d bring you comfort that your parents would never give you. True friends wouldn’t go against you and mock you, hell even Bakugo would accept you and he hated everybody in general. “You guys didn’t have to wait for me.”

Ururaka was the one to speak next, “that’s what friends are for.” You smiled at the group as they beckoned for you to follow them all. Walking through the sunset with friends you knew would truly accept you for who you really were. 

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac

#shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #my hero academia #bakugohoex #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha #bnha shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader

[all-might-can-smash-me]

Motherly Instincts, Human Emotions, or Just a Quirk?

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x Reader

Summary: A feeling is haunting you and it seems to just get even more complicated as the number one hero Endeavor is now out of his hospitalization and the world is at an unease. Is it just your motherly instincts that you feel towards your beloved class 1-A? Is it just a normal occurrence of emotion within any person? Or is it your quirk now picking up something new that you can’t quite see yet?

What I listened to while writing: Detroit:Become Human soundtrack, especially Kara’s Theme.

We are finally here! The fifth season of our beloved My Hero Academia/Boku no Hero Academia has finally arrived! And with that also comes some writings! I’ve been swamped with my new busy schedule that comes along with being in cosmetology school, don't ever under estimate those students because we sure go through a lot each day! Please enjoy this short, on the whim writing for a humble celebration.

Masterlist / request info in master list

A chill had risen up your arms as your typed away at your computer, the hurried and petrified voice of the news caster raging out even if your tv was brought down to a hushed volume. 

“Number one hero Endeavor is is currently defeating a villain. Much damage has been caused to the area. No fatalities as of right now....” Though whatever they had left to speak out to all of Japan or even the whole world did not matter as your chair had clattered upon the ground as you reached for your house coat. the bright light of the hall blinding your eyes as wisps of hair that had fallen from your hair tie floated amongst the wind you created with your nervous steps down the stairs. Shoto had fallen to the ground and your colleague was already there hovering over the teen, the rest of the class either crowding their fellow classmate or staring in shock to the news blaring from the tv.

That day the world changed and not even the world’s most naïve person could ever deny such a thing.

“Here is your jacket, Shoto...” You spoke out softly as you stood in front of the boy, hands reaching to straighten out the collar, the young man only silently standing before you expressionless as usual. Though you could have sworn you felt a tremor. Whether it was you or him, that could be debatable. “Just remember the time we set, ok? If you feel uncomfortable don’t be afraid to just excuse yourself so Mr.Aizawa and I can bring you straight back to the dorms, they will understand that if you have too.” assuring you hoped your words would sound to the boy, but that forever blank expression only looked back to you. 

“Ok...” he softly spoke out, you nodding your head as you stepped out from his path.

“Ok” felt like the only appropriate response as you watched him step up to the house, disappearing behind the very daunting front door. 

You didn’t want to come off as one of those crazy conspiracist types who always had a foul theory about a hero, villain, and their families, but with your quirk helping you feel the atmosphere or vibe of people, places, or things, you couldn't help but silently be one. Shoto always carried something awful, something that made your heart become heavy despite his neutral expressions. It always perturbed you to no end. It wasn’t like you have never felt this before either. With your previous job being interviewing and helping rehabilitate “troubled” children and mentally stricken heroes and now being the counselor of UA, it was something that always came. What bothered you though was that it was coming from the son of the nation’s number one hero, a family that would seem normal to all of Japan and the entire world because, well, it was a family of a hero. A had on your shoulder made you snap out of your racing thoughts, now looking over your shoulder and to Aizawa.

“Are you ok?” He questioned, almost a bit awkwardly. You didn’t blame him, your reaction to the atmosphere around was probably strange and maybe even frightening. “I know your quirk can...”

“I’m just worried...” You spoke out with a sigh as rested a hand over his before moving away from his touch to lean against the hood of the car, hands now sitting in your lap as you twiddled your thumbs. “And I’ve been picking up something weird, but who knows, maybe its just that this house probably too damn old and spooky” you tried to joke with a meek laugh, though he only stared with a knowingly look, yet did not press any further. You had to be thankful for that, he sure knew when to back off sometimes, maybe not when it came to his own homeroom students, but for you? He did and you didn’t really care to know his reason for why like whether or not he thought you were too weak to handle it or some other seemingly offensive reason. “Shit!” You exclaimed as a fowl hiss came from the side walk in front of you. There a scared cat arched and puffed it’s body out, though Aizawa paid no mind with a lazy look as he calmly approached the cat, slowly reaching out a hand to let the feral beast sniff, quickly gaining his trust. You couldn't help but let out a giggle as the man scooped up the cat in his arms, now leaning against the car next to you where his hands loved up upon the cat’s dirty fur, his black hair falling to hide the sides of his face. Sometimes you would sit there and imagine what he would look like with that mane of his trimmed and tidied during the sleepless nights you shared playing card games, doing paperwork together, or doing a quick patrol around the dorm to check upon the beloved students of class 1-A. 

“Huh, you sure your quirk isn’t taming wild cats?” You teased as you reached a hand to give the old cat a scratch under his chin. The little chuckle that rumbled through rumbled through you before he began to speak.

“I wish, creating a cat sanctuary of street cats seems like the life best suited for me..” He spoke out lowly with the purrs of the cat. You knew he was joking however which brought a small lift to the corners of your lips. 

It didn’t take him much thought to know that something was still bothering you as the cat jumped from him arms to land back to the ground with what seemed to be a small meow of thanks as it ran off into the night only leaving behind the pesky cat hairs on his all black costume, but he didn’t mind at all. 

“Look at you, covered in cat hair...” Your voice came out in a whisper which you weren't aiming to do as you reached a hand to try to dust away the short hairs in vain, though his rough hands wrapped around yours in order to stop you, a knowing look upon his face. That look made you sigh as you retracted your hands from his.

That damn man. He knew when to not press about things like he did to others, but when it got to a certain point in his eyes, he always intervened. You were foolish enough to think you would be able to suppress and hide it enough in order to trick those fatigued eyes of his. Not this time, the feelings that plagued your heart and continued to poke at you were too strong and too bothersome. 

“Shoto always carried things such as sadness, anger, determination, trauma, just a lot more than I could swallow sometimes.” You began to explain, now looking up to the house watching the shadows dance across one of the windows lit up by the soft light within. “And this whole area is filled with so many bad things...but right now it kind of confuses me” You said as your eyebrows scrunched at the new shift. “Change is happening, which is normal to see in a person once they go through the proper treatment or therapy, but judging by how bad it was before, it is going to take a lot...” You said with a sigh, lowering your gaze from the house, trying your best to shut off the swarm of emotions before you and to end your reading, now looking to Aizawa. “It just saddens me, Shoto seems so aloof, but that boy has went through so much, I guess I’m just worried from him, scared for him..” You explained.

“Doesn’t make since why he would come back?” He asked softly, you only staring back up to him to roll that thought within your head before nodding your head. Aizawa only nodded his head back, his arm now reaching to wrap an arm around your dropping shoulders, you now leaning your head against his shoulder. The embrace was comforting and you appreciated his understanding, but you still had such an anxious feeling in your gut. 

“I know this world preaches forgiveness and for us to fix the wrongs we commit in our life, but even for me who helps those people forgive and seek forgiveness, its still hard to do it myself sometimes. It also goes to show that even a family like this can hold all these...foul things” You explained further as you looked p to the moths and bugs that swarmed the streetlight up above and soon past their mindless flight and to the dull stars above. The tears pulled at the brim of your eyes, your chin beginning to strain with the sensation that came with crying. “These kids are like my babies...” you soon shakily spoke out, fighting back the horrendous expression you knew would come too with your tears as you looked to Aizawa “And right now I can’t fight off this feeling in my gut ever since the Endeavor incident..” Your trembled whisper almost seemed fearful. 

A door slamming made Aizawa’s head snap to the source of the sound where the both of you sat in the silence, bodies tense as you waited. Finally with a deep sigh his body relaxed as he looked back to you, a hand reaching to brush away those tears that could move him to tears if he was off guard, though sometimes that wouldn’t even work and that would definitely not go past you. 

Your hands reach to cup the lower, stubbled half of his face upon seeing that familiar wetness gently pool in his eyes, but it was not enough to fall upon his cheeks and betray his wishes of not wanting to cry. You guessed you were not alone with these feelings

“I know...” He spoke out quietly with a sad smile. “We just have to prepare them as best as we can. Shoto, Izuku, Eri, Shinsou, all the others” Aizawa continued on as he was no fully turned to you, hands holding your upper arms, one of them moving away to reach for a piece of hair that was caught onto your sweater to pluck it off and let it float gently down into the darkness of the night. 

“But they are just kids...” 

“I know, but they chose this path, besides, they have already accomplished and achieved so much. Who knows, maybe whatever is coming will be another thing these students will once again defeat and make us adults look stupid again” Aizawa was trying to joke, trying to lift that melancholy looked that wrinkled your face, but it was no use. With a sigh he stood up straight, those warm hands of his sliding away as he opened the passenger door for you, those eyes seeming to look even more exhausted if that were even possible. “Come on, lets get the car started, its almost time to bring Shoto home.”

Motherly instincts, human emotions, a quirks power....was it simply not a good mix or was it simply something big was coming? How those thoughts came in typhoons within your mind as you sat in silence in there car. 

How you will never be able to figure that one out....

#shouta aizawa #bnha fanfiction #bnha aizawa #bnha eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #mha eraserhead #aizawa shouta headcanons #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa shouta #shota aizawa x reader #shota aizawa #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #my hero academia fic #boku no hero academia hawks #aizawa x y/n #aizawa shouta x you #eraserhead #ua high #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha shoto todoroki #bnha endeavour

[literatelogan]

I NEVER SAID FRIENDS

part thirty - i never said friends

masterlist | previous 

complete

pairing - shota aizawa x gn!reader

genre - fluff, angst, humor

summary - it’s your first year teaching at u.a. high school and you would be lying to say you weren’t intimidated. school is months away from starting but principal nezu has taken it upon himself to set you up for success. all of the teachers will be helping you onboard but shouta aizawa has been assigned to be your mentor. he hates this but does he hate you? yes. will he stop hating you? maybe.    

tws - pure fluff. mention of hotaka and mention of betrayal but very lightly.

a/n - thank you to my beta reader @freyafolkvangr​! EEEE okay there is a lot but also make sure you read until the end because there’s more texts at the end and they are pretty great so make sure you read themmmm. also more author’s notes above the tag list. 

The journey from your room to the little empty classroom that had become your private space with Shouta, well it felt like forever. Your heart felt like it was going to explode. Maybe you were blowing this out of proportion? I mean he had given you a lot of presents by now. He wouldn’t stop giving you presents. Usually, his surprises were presents, so that must be what it is, right? You rounded the hallway corner as you walked closer and closer to the classroom. What the two of you had initially thought was just an empty classroom, turned out to be the business law classroom. Explained why it was completely undecorated. Grab the doorknob. Just grab it. Your fingers hovered over it, scared of what was on the other side. 

The door opened without you and you were met with a wide smile from Shouta. “Darling.” He pulled you in and gave you a kiss on the forehead before closing the door. The room was not covered in balloons or flowers or anything extravagant, this realization had you letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. The tables were cleared away from a small bench that faced the window which let in a lovely amount of natural light. You sat down when Sho motioned for you too and he joined you. “Breathe.” Hey! That’s your line. “I’m not proposing. I know that’s what you’re thinking.” You gave him a small nod. “You have me nervous. This is the first surprise you’re giving me in person.” His arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him as he gazed out the window.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Shouta started. “I love you. I am in love with you. Excessively so. I am deeply, madly, crazily in love with you, Y/N.” His eyes shifted from the window to you and the look on his face implied so many emotions. Love, kindness, happiness but also some sadness and fear. Your hand cupped his cheek, fingers brushing through his scruff. “I love you too, Sho. You’re going to make me cry. I never thought I’d even consider loving someone again but you’re just so stubborn.” His lips brushed against yours as he leaned his forehead against yours, not kissing you yet just staying there for a minute.  You sniffled a little and he pulled back right away, immediately noticing a small teardrop forming in your eye. He quickly reached up to hold your face and wipe it away with his thumb. “Darling…I didn’t mean to make you cry…I-“ You shook your head as it rested in his hand. “Good tears, Sho.” 

The two of you sat there looking out the window for a while, just appreciating the silence with each other. The sun was setting outside and the pinkish-purple glow was coloring the room. Shouta took a deep breath and you looked over at him, he looked even more nervous than before. “There’s something else I need to say. So please let me talk. I just need to get the words out of my head.” You gave him a small smile and a nod, so he continued. “I knew I was pretty much doomed since we met. It only took a week or so before I had a crush on you and I don’t think I’ve ever actually had a real crush before.” Both of you chuckled at that. “When you told me about…. when you told me about Hotaka. When you told me what an idiot I was… and I said all of that. I meant every single word of it. The person you spend the rest of your life with will be the luckiest person on this planet.” He reached out and took both of your hands in his, pulling them to his lips and giving them little kisses. 

“With you, I’ve smiled more, laughed more, opened myself up like I haven’t in a very long time. I didn’t think anyone would be able to give me that. There you came into my life and it was like…you had been here all along. You make everything better.” His hands released yours as he moved to grab something out of his pocket. A small box. “I can’t imagine a future where I’m not spending the rest of my life with you. I know that right now isn’t the time to be discussing marriage but I want you to know I’m not going anywhere.” The box opened and showed two matching rings. They were clear with little pieces of something black and lines of sparkling gold. “I was looking for something to show that and I discovered what is called a promise ring. A promise that I am committed to you even if we aren’t ready for those steps.” His fingers picked up one of the rings and showed it to you. “I had them specially made. There are petals from the roses I gave you inside them. Now they will really last forever, just like my love for you. I promise to you that I will never stop loving you, Y/N. You have trusted me with your heart and I would sooner die than betray that trust. We will have moments of struggle and moments where we might fight but I will never stop loving you.” 

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion and you could feel your heartbeat in your fingertips as you reached out for the other ring and took it from the box, holding it up to his hand. “Shouta, I came to U.A. because I hoped that I would get a fresh start. I brought all of my trust issues and fears with me, though. I tried so hard to not love you. I fought it because I didn’t want to be hurt again. I didn’t want it to be real because I was scared. I’m not scared anymore.” You took his hand and slipped the ring onto his finger. “Shouta Aizawa, I promise that I will never stop loving you. If you will love me forever, I will love you forever and a day. I’ve never loved somebody the way I love you and I never will.” Shouta took your finger and slipped your ring onto it. 

As you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss he paused before leaning in to kiss you. “I love you, Y/N. God, it feels good to say it out loud.” He was in love with the laugh that fell from your lips. “I love you too, Shouta. Now can I kiss my darling?”

Your lips crashed together with so much feeling that another tear rolled down your cheek. As he held you in his arms, you knew that you would never have to worry about getting your heart broken again. You had found the one. The one. The one you would spend your entire life with. You never wanted to leave this embrace, this kiss, and you never had to.  You would never be alone again.

a/n - i wanted to say thank you to everyone who has read and hopefully enjoyed “i never said friends” this was definitely a labor of love. it’s my first full and completed fic in more than a decade and it’s my first smau. i hope you enjoyed this ending. there will be some more posts as they come to me and there will be an ending with tai soon. i’ll be doing routes for each character and a poly route depending who you ship most. also the ring would look similar to this because i feel like that can be gender neutral depending on preferred thickness and they could both wear well. but with the petals instead of the smokiness.

tag list:  @thatcutewerewolf​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​ @goodgodimaweirdperson​ @moon-spirit-yue​ @ravenkake​ @grungelovebug​ @freyafolkvangr​ @punicorn999​ @courtneypaigemartin​ @pasteldaze​ @therealwalmartjesus​ @ethylalcoholforfandoms​ @ineedmorefanfics​ @lunarentity​ @delightfully-anonymous​ @moremilkforkags​ @noonewouldlisten25​ @jazzylove​ @megalomango​​ @bluefaeriefury​​ @kizzannebaby​​ @thepuckishrogue​

#aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa x reader #aizawa x gn!reader #gn!reader #gender neutral #bnha #mha #reader insert #bnha smau #smau #mha smau #aizawa smau #smau: i never said friends #part thirty #fanfiction #literatelogan #literateloganworks