#sakuzawa

[unknees]

—It’s Gonna Be a Long Long Time Till Touchdown

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Chapter: one-shot

Beta: @flowershinobi

Read on [AO3]

It didn’t take an ounce of intelligence to tell how infatuated he was with their PE teacher. Even an idiot like Shirakumo could tell. The only one who couldn’t, of course, was said teacher herself.

“Are you okay, Aizawa-san?” 

He could feel his classmates' eyes on them. 

Aizawa wiped the sweat on his forehead coolly, pushing his hair back so he could see her watching him. He liked it when her green eyes focused on him. 

“Yeah,” he answered, shrugging when Sakura’s eyebrows furrowed deeper. “Really, Haruno sensei. I’m okay.”

“If you say so.” She didn’t sound convinced. Instead, she leaned closer into him and Aizawa’s breath hitched when he felt her calloused palms covering his eyes. “I’ll just fix you up a lil, yeah? So next time you can properly avoid my attacks.”

He exhaled, subtly took a deep breath of her, and held the sweet smell of strawberry and coffee in his lungs for a moment before he wrapped one hand around her small wrist. It never failed to fascinate him how such small hands could punch a hole into the ground.

He sighed dramatically and muttered, “I see them coming just fine.”

“Mhmm,” she agreed. Aizawa couldn’t see her but he could easily hear the teasing smile in her voice. “Of course. You have the sharpest eyes in our class. Yes, yes. Of course.”

When she pulled her hands back, he gave her a deadpan look that he knew would make her laugh. And laugh, she did. His heart soared.

“Fine. I’m sorry that I’m a worrywart. I guess it comes with my old age,” she said, smiling at him as she offered a hand to pull him up.

“You’re not old,” he said exasperatedly. His bigger hand looked good around her smaller one. “You’re 21.”

“Well, back where I come from, you rarely make it to your 20s.” She said it so casually, as though she wasn’t talking about death. “It makes me feel ancient, and—“ she looked up at the sky and smiled sadly “—a bit lonely.”

“Well,” he mimicked her tone, brain whirling with ideas to counter her next attacks, “you have me as your punching bag now. Not so lonely anymore.”

Sakura blinked at him and laughed. Her pink hair danced in his face distractingly as he felt a sharp chop under his chin. “You’re too slow.”

“Calculative,” he corrected, massaging the front of his neck. 

“Yeah, that!” She rolled her eyes, smiling. “While I, on the other hand, am not so patient!”

“Wow, no way.”

“Smartass,” she murmured as she flicked his forehead with a bit of force that he knew would leave a mark. “I’m gonna check on Yamada-san’s vocal cords now. He’s been screaming non-stop.”

“Tell him to watch out for your nasty chop then. I can’t feel my vocal cords,” he grumbled.

Sakura rolled her eyes again as she gave him a salute, leaving him alone to help Hizashi. He wondered, not for the first time, what her life was before she joined UA.

What was life for someone who wielded power that could either break you or fix you? Someone who refused to submit to being labeled a hero just to survive. Someone who could blend in seamlessly, as though she was a shadow, mind as sharp as her tongue, and quick with her wit.

Haruno Sakura was, by far, the strongest, most well-rounded person he had ever known. And he wasn’t even being biased.

Apart from her cringe dad jokes, of course. Even his infatuation couldn’t blind him and save her from that tragedy.

He watched as her thigh muscle flex when she kicked Hizashi across the field. His face heated up at the thought of those same thighs around his face.

“You’re drooling,” Shirakumo teased.

Aizawa blamed it completely on his rampaging hormones. “I’m not.”

“Uh huh.”

He took a long look at her laughing and patting Hizashi’s neck before he pulled his eyes off her. Shirakumo was watching him with that shit eating grin of his. He snarled, “Fuck off.”

“Holy shit, dude. You’re gone gone!” Shirakumo laughed, his cloud acting like a shield around him as Aizawa’s leg thrusted out toward where his head had been. “Just go ask her out! We’re 17. We’re basically done with UA.”

His friend didn’t get to finish as Sakura’s voice interrupted their conversation. And as it was when it came to her, Aizawa’s head turned intuitively to exactly where she was.

He ignored Shirakumo’s loud snort followed by a soft, “Whipped.”

“Alright, class!” Sakura smiled at them. “That’s it for today! Your internship placement will be announced tomorrow so,” she paused as she scanned them, and Aizawa’s heart jumped when her eyes landed on him—he swore her eyes stayed on him a second longer—“I guess, this will be our last class together for a while.”

Everyone wailed a chorus of No! And amidst all the bittersweet byes, there was Shirakumo yelling, “I love you, Haruno sensei! Don’t miss me and Aizawa too much!”

Sakura laughed and her eyes were full with mirth as they met his. “I promise I won’t miss you, Shirakumo-san. But Aizawa-san, on the other hand,” she winked at him, “I’m going to miss him  with every breath I take.”

He knew she was just teasing Shirakumo. But in that moment, Aizawa knew. He was, in fact, gone gone, just as his annoying friend had said.

The whole class shrieked excitedly for him. Sakura, bless her beautiful oblivious soul, looked at them in confusion. She cocked her head with her fists on her hips before she chuckled, shaking her head.

“So, anyway! It’s been a pleasure, you guys! Goodluck for your internship! Have a good rest tonight, kick ass, and keep doing lunges to stay in shape! It would be a—”

Aizawa closed his eyes and sighed.

“—big step forward!”

She was met with total silence.

“Get it?” Sakura, undeterred, lunged forward with a force that made a hole on the cemented ground. Snickering and snorting, she looked up at them excitedly. “Big step forward? Because lunge is where you position one leg forward like you’re taking a ‘big step forward’ that your center of gravity lowered due to the distance between your two feet!”

Gone, he thought, as everyone else left the gym with a groan, and suddenly he found her stupid joke charming. 

Fucking hormones.

“Cementoss is gonna be mad at you again, sensei,” he said offhandedly. He had to will his heartbeat to slow down when Sakura flipped her strawberry-scented hair and grinned at him.

“Cementoss won’t know it was me. He needs concrete evidence. Get it? Concrete—” 

“Goodbye, sensei.”

A Travesty, really.

“Honestly, her jokes aren’t that bad. It’s the asking and explaining that ruins it,” Shirakumo commented as they walked out the PE field.

He hummed in reply, glad that his hair was long enough to hide the heat rising in his cheeks.

“And, as I was saying before,” his friend continued, “we’re basically done. We gonna embark on our new journeys to whereever the fuck it’ll take us. Japan, USA, Beijing, Malaysia. We’re gonna be everywhere!

But Haruno sensei?” Shirakumo’s tone turned somber. Aizawa turned in surprise to find him smiling at him sadly. “We heard what the Principal told her. She can’t leave.”

Aizawa’s eyes widened. How had he forgotten the most important tidbit of information they'd gleaned the first time they saw Sakura? His eyes desperately searched for pink hair. And when he found her talking animatedly to Cementoss as he fixed the hole on the floor, Aizawa suddenly remembered—

Sunset. White curtains. Anesthetic infirmary smell. Pink. And green. As green as the Nara forest that he and his friends had visited on their first year’s summer trip.

Oh. Oh.

He’d been distracted.

“Haruno sensei’s gonna be stuck here in UA,” Shirakumo’s voice pulled him back to the present. “If you want more of this, if this is not just a simple high school crush. This might be your only chance.”

He searched for her again, and his blood rushed to his ears when he found her already watching him. Sakura grinned, waving at him and mouthing, “You okay?”

This might be your only chance.

Aizawa waved back at her and nodded his head. 

Sakura’s grin turned into a soft smile. One that he would add to the ‘Haruno Sakura’ folder in his head.

This might be your only chance.

He turned his back on her and caught up with Shirakumo. His friend’s brows raised before he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief when he saw his determined face. “You’re crazy.”

Maybe so, Aizawa thought, smirking.

There was lightness in his steps, a thrilling sensation that he couldn’t shake off. The same kind of exhilaration that he would get when he came across a stray cat to be adopted.

And just like with a stray cat, he would slowly and gently approach them. Carefully familiarize himself with and care for them until they grow attached. And it might take a while—days, weeks, months—but Aizawa was a patient man.

So, true. Maybe he was crazy. But, it wasn’t true that this would be his only chance.

He recalled the feeling of her breath against his skin, and squeezed his fists in his pocket harder.

Oh, yes. He was very patient.

#bnha #bnha fics #mha fics #aizawa shouta #aizawa fics #aizawa #haruno sakura #sakura #sakura fics #crossover #naruto #aizawa centric #bnha x naruto #aizawa x sakura #eraserhead #sakuzawa #mtouchdown

[fuckyeahlarcenciel-blog]

cute Sakura <3

#L'Arc~en~Ciel #Sakura #Sakuzawa

[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Omake 5: The adults Are Drunk

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#bnha #bnha smau #aizawa shouta #haruno sakura #aizawa fics #naruto #bnha x naruto #mha #naruto smau #eraserhead #taat #taat10 #sakuzawa

[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Omake 7: The Adults Are Parenting

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#bnha smau #bnha #aizawa shouta #haruno sakura #bnha x naruto #naruto #crossover #taat #taat14 #eraserhead #sakuzawa

[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Crossover: bnha x naruto

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Aizawa-centric

Summary: Of two adults that respect each other, support each other, and have each others' backs. Of two best friends on their way to become more.

The Adults Are Talking

Omake: The Adults Are Texting

The Adults Are Bunnies

Omake: The Adults Are IGers

The Adults Are Scared

Omake: The Adults Are Worried

The Adults Are Selfish

Omake: The Adults Are Having Fun

The Adults Are Wondrous

Omake: The Adults Are Drunk

The Adults Are Yearning

Omake: The Adults Are Creeping

The Adults Are Swaying

Omake: The Adults Are Parenting

The Adults Are Family

Omake: The Adults Are Festive

The Adults Are Together

Omake: The Adults Are Alright

The Adults Are Alright

Fin

[ao3] [masterlist] [The Adults Are Talking tag]

#bnha #mha #naruto #aizawa fics #aizawa shouta #haruno sakura #sakura fics #eraserhead #aizawa x sakura #aizawa centric #mtaat #main taat #taat #aizawa #sakura #sakuzawa

[unknees]

Please this is my Aizawa and Sakura in The Adults Are Talking.

#good boi aizawa #murder happy sakura #taat #sakura #aizawa #sakuzawa

[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Omake 1: The Adults Are Texting

Summary: omake — of the adults’ texting while they’re away from each other.

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#bnha #aizawa fics #sakura fics #aizawa x character #bnha smau #eraserhead #naruto #crossover #bnha x naruto #taat2 #taat #sakuzawa

[unknees]

High school Sakura and Aizawa. Where Haruno the president of Boxing Club fights (Aizawa: you mean flirts?) with Aizawa the president of Cheerleading Club for using the whole gym for their fancy routine.

“Just because you can do pretty twirl, doesn’t mean you have to take the whole court, Aizawa-san.”

“I’m sorry, Haruno-san. Can you repeat that? Your spandex shorts are very distracting.”

Sakura credit: piccrew // Aizawa credit: piccrew

#sakura #aizawa shouta #haruno sakura #aizawa #what do you mean aizawa is not into cheerleading???? #man a tap dancer and can do spiderman stunts!!! #my aizawa is always a simp for sakuras thighs #croosover #piccrew #sakuzawa

[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Omake: The Adults Are Alright

prev // next

#bnha smau #bnha #mha #aizawa shouta #aizawa fics #haruno sakura #sakura fics #smau #taat #sakuzawa #taat18

[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Omake 3: The Adults Are Worried

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#bnha smau #mha #bnha #aizawa shouta #aizawa centric #aixawa x sakura #Haruno sakura #aizawa fics #sakura fics #taat #taat6 #sakuzawa

[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Chapter 8: The Adults Are Family

Beta: @flowershinobi

Read on [ao3]

If Aizawa were to be honest to himself, he had no fucking clue how to mentor an impressionable 15 years old boy.

Being a teacher was one thing, but being a mentor—having to share his experience and wisdom exclusively to one person—was on a whole other level. A bigger responsibility. It felt more personal. So when he had taken Shinsou Hitoshi in, it was with the knowledge that he would always have Sakura with him along the ride. 

Like now, as he breathed in the fresh morning air and hummed along to birds chirping merrily. Sakura’s steady voice threw off his attempt at perfect harmonisation, but it was okay for him because she was offering supreme guidance to their student.

Ah, he thought as he strolled leisurely behind them, thank god for Sakura. 

“Wait, shisou,” Shinsou stopped walking, rubbing his eye with a hand before he turned to Sakura. “You’re telling me, I have to add weight on my ankles?”

“Like it’s hard?” Sakura smirked while kicking his ankle lightly. “Wrap them around here. Not too heavy. Just enough to put extra weight and tension.”

“But why?”

Sakura tapped his foot firmly against the ground with her foot as she started explaining, “See? You put your weight on your heel. That’s gonna fuck your legs up. You need to learn the foot strike patterns. Once you do, everything will come easier.

“Wearing weights while working out increases the overall strength of your glutes and hamstrings and calves. And you need strong legs and firm footing, especially for your fighting style: running, jumping, braking; your every move. Remember, perfect your basics.”

Shinsou nodded, tapping his foot from the heel, to flatly plant it on the ground, then tip toed. “I might twist my ankles, shishou.”

“Yeah, no shit? And it’s gonna be painful,” Sakura said, laughing when Shinsou gave her a miserable look. “You can do it. I won’t ask you to take on what you can’t. Besides,” she stretched her leg out between the high slit of her skirt and flexed her thigh. “You’re gonna have toned thighs. People dig that.” 

Aizawa let out a strangled groan. It was exhausting enough to act as though her red camisole wasn’t enticing, now he had to endure another form of torture that was her too-sexy-to-be-worn-during-the-day—or in public, as far as he was concerned—fitted skirt.

He simply shrugged when she caught him staring at her thighs, and checked her out again instead, head to toe, in a gesture that said, ‘Yes, I am staring, and what about it?’ He smirked as her cheeks reddened.

“An-anyway!” She narrowed her eyes at him before turning to Shinsou—who was staring at him in exasperation. “Let’s continue this talk during our training sesh, hm? We’re already here.”

Aizawa matched her strides as they walked into the hospital, noticing the sharp chill of the air conditioner had cause her to shiver. He moved closer to her and smiled when she instinctively leaned into him. 

“Where’s the rest of your skirt?” He teased.

Sakura huffed. “It was obstructing my movement so I ripped it off.”

He gave her another look over, forcing himself not to get distracted by her body, and realized that although symmetrical, the slits over both of her thighs were not purposeful. It was strong and sexy of her, and he offered her a nod of appreciation as he held the elevator door open. “Yes. It’s only logical.” He waited until the elevator moved before he continued. “Can’t say I’m complaining, either.”   

She rolled her eyes without saying a word. She didn’t need to. Her rosy cheeks were telling enough.

He leaned back against the wall to put a little distance between them. But, it didn't stop him from admiring her. One of her camisole straps had slipped from her shoulder, and it took everything in him not to moan at the sight of the dark material against her bare skin. 

He closed his eyes, taking a long breath as he counted to three, and prayed that Sakura would notice it and pull the strap back up herself by the time he opened his eyes.

But she didn’t. Of fucking course, she didn’t. And to make things worse, now he noticed how good she smelled, too. There was nothing new or mind blowing about it, but the familiarity of strawberries and coffee had always made him feel like he might lose his mind. At the moment, it was maddening. 

Fuck it, he thought. She was maddening. He took a second to study the light freckles scattered on her arm before he hooked the spaghetti strap with a finger back to its place. 

The chaste contact was electrifying. He wanted, needed, more of it. More of her. So instead of pulling back, his fingers trailed across the back of her shoulder blades, feeling her muscles flex under his exploration. He held his breath as he watched, mesmerised, by the instantaneous effect he had on her. How goosebumps covered her skin as she flushed, her breath quickening with every inhale.

He hummed, eyes sweeping down her back to admire her legs. “You’re right. People dig toned thighs.”

“Oh my god,” Shinsou interrupted, voice muffled as he covered his face with both hands, “Please, stop flirting in a confined area that has me in it. I don’t feel comfortable. At all.”

“Then leave?” Sakura said in confusion. Aizawa chuckled as he watched the nape of her neck turn crimson red. “We had a moment there, Toshi. Read the room!”

“What room?” He asked, equally confused as he waved his hands around. His cheeks were painted pink. “We’re literally in an elevator!”

Aizawa faded into the background, tucking his chin in the safety of his capture weapon. He was embarrassed to admit that he had completely forgotten about Shinsou's existence. It was always like that with Sakura. Like his surroundings blurred around him, reducing his field of vision—his world—to only her.

“Let’s move on, please. I wanna delete the whole thing from my brain.” Shinsou looked at them pleadingly as he walked backward out of the elevator. 

Sakura shook her head, falling into step beside Aizawa as they followed after his mentee. “He’s so dramatic.”

“He got that from you.”

“Excuse me?! That’s all you, sensei. I’ve always been calm and collected.”

No, he thought to himself. You’re never calm and collected. You’re feisty, always a roaring fire. Wild, alluring, and arousing. And I was caught, none the wiser: a simple minded moth that would always fall for the lure. But, before he could even attempt to put any of it into words, a new-looking nurse greeted them—which, in retrospect, he was grateful for the interaction, considering how sappy that line of thought was.

“Good morning. You must be the Aizawas.” He bowed to them, smiling ear to ear. 

“Oh?” He looked at Sakura and Shinsou to see them wearing polar opposite expressions. He had to hide his laugh with a cough.

Sakura’s bare skin went comically beet red at an alarming speed, eyes laser focused on the floor. He wondered how she would look blushing under him, trapped, with her eyes focused on nothing but him. 

“Yes. That's us,” Shinsou’s monotone voice startled him out of his wretched thoughts. He shifted his focus to his student and wasn’t even surprise to find his deadpan expression toward him. The look screamed ‘PATHETIC,’ and Aizawa didn’t have an argument to justify his indisputable pining. It was fucking pathetic. 

“Oh, I get it! Black and pink mixed together!” The nurse pointed at Shinsou happily, as though he just solved a mystery puzzle. “What a lovely family.”

Aizawa hummed thoughtfully, tossing the idea in his head: Aizawa Sakura, Aizawa Hitoshi,—he glanced at Eri’s door from the corner of his eye—Aizawa Eri. 

Not bad.

The nurse continued on, “Sensei got an emergency call from one of his patients so he asked me to wait for your arrival here, and—” he passed Eri’s folder to Sakura, leaning forward to whisper,  “—he told me the chief police asked him to pass this to Mrs. Aizawa, since she was also working on Eri-chan’s case on behalf of the police department. Said she would know better and it was all hush-hush.” 

Mrs. Aizawa gave him a serious look, though Aizawa couldn’t stop himself from snorting at the obvious mirth in her green eyes. “You’re right. It’s all hush-hush. Now, go. Scram! Tell the chief this: ‘woof woof, Mrs. Aizawa”—Aizawa’s heart skipped a beat—“has received the package, woof woof,’ word to word. Verbatim. You got it?”

“Yes ma’am yes! I’ll go make the phone call now!” 

“Must you torment the nurse?” Shinsou asked as they watched the eager nurse jogged to the staff room.

“Tormenting newbies is doctors' favourite way to pass time. All in good fun, though,” she laughed, pinning the folder under her armpit as she opened the door. “Good morning, Eri-chan! Everything’s good? Food’s good?”

He leaned sideways on the door, hands in pockets and a fond smile on his face as he watched Sakura check on Eri. Sakura was a great hero, strong and efficient. No one could deny that. But Aizawa had always loved seeing her being a medic. She seemed to shine the brightest when she was healing someone. Her assuring, kind smile, and her warm hands were enough to bring someone—him, really—out of death. 

“Stop,” Shinsou called from behind him. 

“What?” He asked, massaging his warming earlobe at being caught. Again.

“I said, stop,” he rolled his eyes, walking past him toward Eri and Sakura. “Sensei, you’re my mentor. Stop giving me secondhand embarrassment. Stay cool.”

“Yeah, see? This attitude?” He followed suit, digging into Shinsou’s pressure point so sharply that his student yelped. “That’s all Sakura.”

“What Sakura?” Sakura asked, combing Eri’s hair. Eri waved at him as he sat beside Sakura on the bed. “Shouta, there’s chairs.”

“Yeah, sensei. There’s two chairs for two people.” Shinsou patted the empty chair beside him.

“That bratty attitude. That’s from you.”

Sakura stared at Shinsou before she turned to him and scowled. “It’s unfair.”

“What?” He scooted closer, invading her personal space as he patted Eri’s head. 

“I’m saying, it’s unfair that he got your eyes. Why can’t he get my hair?”

“Uh…No, I don’t have his eyes.” Shinsou took out his phone and checked his eyes out before he looked up and met his. He blushed and muttered in disbelief, “There’s no way.”

“Yeah, you do. Stop hiding your smile, Toshi! We know Eraserhead is your favourite hero,” Sakura said sulkingly, twirling her hair. “You both have dead fish eyes. Why can’t you have pink hair?!”

“Dead—”

“It’s okay, Shinsou.” Aizawa smirked at Sakura, head inclined toward her. “Sakura said my eyes are pretty. And so is my face.”

“Oh my god.” Sakura pushed his face away as Shinsou groaned, “Just stop.”

“Eri has your eyes,” Aizawa commented, nodding toward Eri who was watching them with wide, curious eyes. 

“True. Round and owlish,” the older child said, pinching her cheek. Eri rubbed her red cheek and stuck her tongue out at him. Shinsou snorted, feeding her a slice of apple. “What a baby.”

“Shinsou,” Aizawa chastised him at the same time Sakura yelled, “You’re a baby!”

“I’m gonna tell Sakura-san on you,” Eri said between her chewing, “Sakura-san gonna woohoo—whoop your ass.”

Aizawa turned to the girl at the speed of light while Shinsou gasped and choked on his apple. “Where did you learn that from, Eri?”

“No one!” Sakura interjected, covering Eri’s mouth with her hand. “She learned that from no one!”

“This is one dysfunctional family,” Shinsou muttered, taking a long swig of water before he passed it to Eri. “Cleanse your mouth, Eri. Shishou is a bad influence.”

Eri took a big gulp, copying him before she asked him, “Why do you call Sakura-san shisou?”

“Because he’s a loser,” Sakura answered for him, laughing when Shinsou denied it in a small voice. “Calling both me and Shouta sensei is confusing. So I asked him to call me shisou. But he was an ass—“

Aizawa jabbed her ribs hard enough that her breath hitched. She glared at him as she corrected herself. “—assspiring child. So it’s only natural for him to have reservations about me being a competent enough teacher to behold the title shisou. 

It took a while, but it seems like I’ve earned the title now.” 

Shinsou huffed, his cheeks pinked as his shishou leaned across the bed to ruffle his hair. “It’s only logical.”

“Shouldn’t I be shisou, though? Since I am the official mentor?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he wiped Eri’s sticky cheek from the apple. 

“No,” both Sakura and Shinsou said at the same time, shaking their heads.

“Sorry, sensei. But…” he squeezed his eyes, seemingly trying to find the right words, “Aizawa-sensei just sounds right.”

“Mhmm, Aizawa-sensei sounds so cool. Just perfect for my favourite Aizawa-sensei,” Sakura agreed, tucking his hair behind his ear. 

The action caught him off-balance, his heart beat faster, pumping extra oxygen to his erratic brain. He met her eyes, and for a moment—mere seconds that felt like eternity—he could see what life could have been if it was shared with her. 

Aizawa Sakura, his mind supplied.

“Not bad,” he voiced out his earlier thought.

Sakura smiled, tracing his unshaven jawline. “What is?”

“Us.” 

Sakura paused her ministration, the tip of her finger teased the side of his neck, sending chills down his spine. Aizawa’s own fingers burnt as he grazed the underside of her thigh. And as it was whenever he was near her, his perception of his surroundings dimmed, reduced and shrunken to only the two of them. Only her.

“Sakura-san, can I call you shishou, too?” Eri’s question pulled him back to reality. He blinked and the hospital room slowly came back to focus. 

Sakura was still staring at him, the morning sun reflected in her beautiful green eyes; wide and awestruck. He noticed the pretty blush dusting the apple of her cheeks matched the light pink of her lips, and it took an immense will power to stop himself from capturing them with his.

Aizawa smirked instead, satisfied that she was as affected as him. He squeezed her thigh once before he stood up, keeping a distance. 

“Uh…” she started, blinking dumbly at him before she turned to Eri. “Uh, yes—yes, of course! It’d be an honour to be called shishou by Eri-chan.” 

Shinsou met his eyes from across the bed—one eyebrow raised knowingly. He narrowed his eyes at his student and said, “Please, shut the fuck up.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Eri repeated as she took a bite of her apple. 

The room was silent for a while, only the sound of Eri’s munching bounced against the four walls before all at once, Sakura screeched while Shinsou sighed into his chair.

“Oh my god! Eri, no!” Sakura covered the little girl's mouth with her hand, her fierce eyes staring dagger at him. It excited him more than it should have, all things considered. “Shouta, I swear you are the dumbest smart person in this family!”

“God, please save this family.” Aizawa just barely made out the sound of Shinsou's prayer behind Sakura's shrieking as he watched her lift Eri up. “Okay, new family rule. No bad words.”

“What are the bad words, shishou?” Eri asked innocently, one hand holding a slice of apple, another clutching a handful of Sakura’s hair. 

“You know,” Shinsou put up his fingers as he started listing down, “ass, buttcrack, fu—”

“Language,” Sakura and Aizawa admonished at the same time. 

“Eri said them, why can’t I say them?!”

“I said ‘shut the fuck up,’ shisou.” Eri hid her face from the two. Aizawa who stood behind Sakura could see her wobbly lips clearly. “Am I breaking the rule?”

“No,” Sakura answered quickly. “You said that before we made the rule. You’re good, baby.” She bounced Eri on her hip, reassuring her by stroking her back up and down. He stored the tenderness of her ‘baby’ in his memory.

“You, on the other hand,” she turned her focus toward the teenager, “100 laps as your warm up tomorrow! No excuses!”

Aizawa stepped back, leaning against the window as he watched them bicker back and forth. It warmed him to see even Eri butting in now and then, her little arms wound around Sakura’s neck like a lifeline as Sakura held her tiny body close.

Being a mentor to Shinsou was one of the big leaps he had made in his life. Never ever had he imagined taking any single person under his wing. He thought he would just spend the rest of his life as a teacher, collect enough savings and retire into a quiet city—might even pick up farming. 

Nara would be nice, he thought as he looked out the window, Sakura loved it there when we visited before. 

His thoughts halted as he turned to see that she still had Eri on her hip, like it was the most natural thing for her to do. The sight caused an unbelievable peacefulness to flow through him, filling him with hope and promise and assurance, and it caused his heart to flutter with contentment.

He had been scared, frightened, to fill into this role as both Shinsou and Eri’s guide, their guardian. A compass. 

He wouldn’t have entertained this if he was alone. But, that was the thing, Aizawa was never alone. 

Not since he had met Sakura. 

And now, as he watched her with the kids—their kids—he never expected to have, he couldn’t stop his brain from shifting into overdrive.

He would build them a house, big and traditional. With a garden to enjoy in the summer, and enough room for the kids. Maybe they could even build it together—the thought of Sakura with an electric screwdriver oddly excited him. 

He didn’t doubt that with her, he could do anything,—that she could do anything—even rope Shinsou into the project. It would be a good exercise for him. And Little Eri, too. She could start the garden while they built the house, and by the time they were done, her buds would be in bloom.

Yeah, he thought, smiling as he made up his mind, Nara would be perfect.

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#bnha #mha #aizawa shouta #haruno sakura #aizawa fics #sakura fics #naruto #aizawa x sakura #bnha x naruto #crossover fics #eraserhead #taat #taat15 #sakuzawa

[unknees]

“Shouta, get this green tie! It matches my eyes!”

you’re crazy if you think taat Aizawa won’t snatch the tie off her hand asap. Man is a simp. 😔

credit: piccrew

#Look at my bbs #aizawa shouta #haruno sakura #taat #these are my aizawa and sakura from my fic #croosover #sakura #aizawa #sakuzawa

[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Chapter 6: The Adults Are Yearning

Beta: @flowershinobi

Read on [ao3]

Aizawa opened his eyes to the beautiful orange sky. He hummed contentedly when the evening breeze hit his skin, blatantly ignoring the vibration of his phone, knowing it was one of the nurses looking for him. 

He had a lots of things to do: check on the kids, check on Eri, check on Togata’s psych after Nighteye’s death.

He took a long breath before he touched the side of his abdomen where a new scar would have been if Sakura hadn’t fixed him up earlier. He needed a moment.

“Do you want green tea or coffee? Or,” Sakura sat beside him on the bench as she pulled out a can of beer, “Beer?” 

He looked at her exasperatedly. “Sakura, did you just smuggle alcoholic drinks into the hospital?” 

“For you? Yeah. Anything for you,” she answered casually. Aizawa rubbed his face as he felt heat at the back of his neck. “So? Which one?”

“Beer.”

“That’s what I thought,” she winked, opening a can for him then for herself.

They looked at each other sombrely and made a toast. Aizawa closed his eyes and said, “For Sir Nighteye.”

“Sir Nighteye,” she followed. 

The evening sun cast long shadows on the ground. The slanting rays of the setting sun gave a warm orange tinge to the sky. The irony of seeing the disastrous aftermath on this beautiful day was not lost on him.

Aizawa looked at Sakura from the corner of his eye, watching enchantedly as her lashes created soft shadows against her cheeks. Her eyes pulled the entirety of him, moreso than the beautiful evening. They offered him solace and he greedily anchored himself in. 

He shifted his gaze to his hands wrapped around his beer and gratefully, selfishly, thought, I’m not dead. I’m with her. God, I’m alive and still breathing and I’m with her.

Sakura clunked his can with hers, jerking him back out of his survivor’s guilt. She took a sip before she asked quietly, “How are you holding up, Shouta?”

He laughed humorlessly as he looked back to the sky.  People died, kids were hurt. He survived. What a fucking shitty, beautiful day. And yet—

He leaned back and stretched his legs, letting out a long tired sigh. He took a moment to measure the distance between the sun and Venus before he tilted his head to her and smiled—no matter how small of a smile it was—because he was alive, breathing, and with her. 

And just being with her was enough to make him feel like he was holding up just fine. 

“Better now that you’re here,” he answered truthfully as he always did.

Sakura smiled back. Aizawa caught the way her eyes roved over his hair—she had a penchant for running her fingers through his hair, for dragging her nails across his scalp, he knew because he loved it—and how she clutched her beer tighter instead. “It’s been a long day.”

“Understatement of the year,” he added, laughing together with her. “I swear I’ve aged 10 years and the year hasn’t even finished yet.”

“You sure act like it.” She smirked when he nudged her foot with his. “The dead eyes gave it away.”

“I thought you said they’re pretty?” He teased.

“Mhmm. Never said they’re not.” She cleared her throat. “You’re pretty, too, ya know… your face.”

Fuck. That’s cute. He studied the distance between his hand and hers—so close despite the doubt trying to worm itself into him, making him realize why the distance between Venus and the sun had been so familiar: it was akin to the distance between him and his sun. Between the two of them. Close enough but never within reach.

But, as he eyed her slender fingers, Aizawa was overwhelmed by the fact that he could be closer to her. The knowledge had him possessed with the sudden onslaught desire to touch.

He could easily reach over and wrap his little finger around hers in response. And, as quickly as the thought formed in his head, he braced himself to do it. He even started a countdown in his head, psyching himself up.

Ten, nine, eight—

“Motherfucker,” he cursed when his phone vibrated again. He shook his head at her questioning look. “It’s gotta be one of the nurses.”

Sakura gave him an unimpressed look, putting her drink aside and pulling her hand further away—they were so fucking close—to cross her arms. “Shouta,” she started inquiringly, “what did you do?”

“Nothing! They just wanna make sure I’m okay. Physically and mentally.”

“I thought you’re done with your check ups?” She scooted toward him, her hands glowed in green as they hovered over his abdomen. “Your body is in perfect condition. Very fit and able.” She said matter of factly. Her face stoic as she nodded and continued, “Should be no problem in doing strenuous activity.”

Aizawa closed his eyes and prayed that she didn’t hear his pounding heart. She had to say that on purpose. There was no way a doctor would just randomly tell him that he was good to go for some fucking. He rubbed his face with one hand and pleaded, “Sakura, please.”

Her eyes crinkled and her whole face lit up as she bursted out laughing. Head thrown back as she snorted and wheezed. It was his favourite laugh of hers.

“It’s really not that funny,” he said lamely.

“It is quite funny if you get the context. Like, you’re so healthy you could easily lift my hand and hold them or crush them or whatever! But you didn’t. You won’t. So…” she shrugged, her laughter slowly fading, and Aizawa felt his heart break as her smile broke into what he could only describe as sadness.

He noticed Sakura was being extra cautious—she had been avoiding touching him these days. But this had to kill her, too, right? Because fuck he wanted to touch her so bad. It frustrated him to no end that he was the cause of this glaring distance between them. 

“Sakura,” he said as he placed his drink down and crouched in front of her knees, “Today is shit. The kids need me now, especially Togata. And, not even tryna be funny, I can literally feel Midoriya’s guilt seven floors below us.”

Sakura sighed as she bent down. She was so close that her hair fell forward, surrounding his face like a curtain, hiding them both from the world. “I know. I’m not taking you away from them. I just—“

“I know,” he cut her off, his head spinning from the shortened distance as he wrestled with not being able to reach for her hand when he had the chance. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a loser but, I chickened out. I freaked out.”

Sakura snorted and he watched in fascination as her sun-kissed cheeks coloured. His heart jumped a beat when her eyes met his. They were so close that he could see his yearning reflected in them while her breath brushed his cheeks. 

He cleared his throat. “It’s a shit day. And I—I know it’s a tired cliché but, I really wanna make it special.”

“Shouta,” she huffed, “we’ve been touching each other since forever. I don’t know why you gotta hold back.”

“You know why,” he said firmly, leaning into her and letting their foreheads touch. He swallowed her gasp as he repeated, tenderly, “you know why.”

This time when his phone vibrated, he got up to answer with a short, “One minute,” eyes never leaving hers.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket, shielding her from the sunset so all her attention would be on him.  “Let me make this special.”

She stared at him, eyes roaming his face as if she was looking for something, anything. Aizawa smirked as he recalled her earlier statement. “It’s a pretty face, I know.”

“Oh my god. Why are you so annoying?!” She covered her face. 

“What?” He chuckled when he heard her groan. “You said that yourself.”

She joined his laughter, shoving her hair back to show her red face before kicking his leg. “Ass.”

Aizawa smiled at her. “I'll see you later?”

“Mhmm.” Her hand made a shooing motion. “See you later.”

He stood at the door, capturing the exact moment when the last ray of the evening sun hit the horizon, giving the sky an orange pinkish shade.

It was a beautiful canvas—an oil painting or whatever the highest art there was—to see a beautiful sunset, to witness the day changing haloed Sakura’s silhouette.

“What are you staring at, sensei?” She teased, her voice was soft and full of fondness for him. 

Aizawa’s heart soared.

The fact that he did that to her humbled him. That she allowed him to do that to her. Just from something so simple, so insignificant, a touch. His touch—he gripped the doorknob tighter. 

“Thank you, Sakura.” 

Sakura didn’t question him. She understood. She always did. And Aizawa would always be grateful for that, for her. 

She rested her chin on her palm, chuckling. “Go, you big idiot.”

He chuckled, too, before saluting her and closing the door behind him. Really, it was such a beautiful shitty day.

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[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Chapter 9: The Adults Are Together

Beta: @flowershinobi

Read on [ao3]

The time has finally come. This one is for you, my ride or die, my fellow degenerate, @flowershinobi ♡

“And then?” 

“And thennn,” he drawled dramatically, earning a giggle from Sakura, “Hizashi said, ‘Why don’t I be your shishou, Eri-chan? I have better hair than Sakura.’ And Eri, bless her soul, she just stood still—“

“Just standing?”

“—so quietly, staring into his soul. It was so awkward that Hizashi’s only reply was a silent nod. He was silent, Sakura. The Present Mic rendered speechless by a kid.” 

His grip on his phone tightened as Sakura laughed boisterously. The crowded streets of Tokyo dulled to nothing around him. 

“That’s my baby,” she said, tender and proud. Aizawa felt as though he was alone in the busy street. Only him and his phone. His hiccup broke the moment. 

“I thought you’re not drunk, sensei?” She teased.

“Tipsy,” he corrected, stepping into the convenience store, “I’m at the konbini below. You need anything?”

“Just your company, Shouta.”

He smiled as he picked up her favourite caramel pudding. “Can’t wait to see you, too, Sakura.”

“Mhmm,” was her only answer, seemingly speechless. 

Aizawa smirked. “I’m coming up now. See you in a bit.”

“Faster!”

He laughed as he stepped into the elevator. “Hanging up now.”

“Mkay. Bye bye,” she said before she hung up. 

He hit the back of his head against the wall with a loud thud. Ever since he’d first heard her say baby, he hadn’t been able to rid himself of the memory. Baby, baby, baby—the sound had filled his head for days. Left him with an endless supply of thoughts and fed him fantasies he felt desperate to make real.

The tenderness of every moment she’d said it—so fond and full of love: He wanted it to be directed to him. He was…he was jealous of a child. His child. Their child. The thought left him groaning and laughing to himself. 

“Get your shit together, man,” he mumbled, willing himself to stop picturing her soft lips mouthing the word against his.

He nodded to himself as he made up his mind. He would talk to her. He hiccuped again. Tomorrow. When he was sober and put together.

He nodded to himself as he made up his mind. He would talk to her. He hiccuped again. Tomorrow. When he was sober and put together.

He nodded to himself as he made up his mind. He would talk to her. He hiccuped again. Tomorrow. When he was sober and put together.

“I’m home,” he sighed. The smell of curry filled his senses. “You cooked?”

“Takeaway,” she answered, walking out of the kitchen in his sweater and shorts. Her long, bare legs were on full display.

Yeah, he thought as he glared at her thighs, tomorrow needs to come faster.

“How was work?” He joined her at the dining table, passing the shopping bag to her. “Still bummed that you didn’t get to spend some time with us. Eri had a blast.”

“Tell me about it. I was so excited to play dress up with Eri-chan—oh, pudding!” She looked at him with her glittering eyes. “Thank you, Shouta! You’re the best!”

“Only the best for you.” He winked, but the moment was broken by another hiccup.

Sakura giggled, hiding her reddening cheeks behind the pudding. “Go freshen up. In the meantime—“ she took the lid off and moaned at the scent. Aizawa’s brain short circuited. “I’ll enjoy my pudding! Oh, and I filled the tub for you! Hot water with epsom salt and herbs and essential oil. And candles! For ambience! You deserve the relaxation, Shouta.”

He looked at her in awe. His joints cracked as he stood up, and a sore feeling overtook his body as he walked towards her was a clear indication that yes, he did deserve some relaxation. 

She huffed in protest when he squished her cheeks together. But all Aizawa could think of was how pretty she looked with her messy hair bun, and green eyes glaring at him annoyedly. How her breath tickled his skin, sending a keen tremor of excitement down his spine. How she smelled so fucking good, intoxicating and disorienting.

How lucky he was to have her.

“Thank you, baby. You’re a saint,” he murmured, kissing her pouty lips with a loud smack.

He straightened up, wondering why she looked so shocked before he hiccuped. “I’m gonna take a very long bath. My social battery is completely drained. First with the kids, then out drinking with the teachers.” 

Sakura didn’t say anything, instead, she continued to stare at him with her wide eyes. Aizawa’s brow furrowed confusedly for a moment before he let go and bopped her nose, smiling when her nose twitched. “Enjoy your pudding, Sakura,” he called as he walked away, a groan following as he pulled his shirt over his head on the way to the bathroom.

He dropped it in a pile of dirty clothes, the rest of his clothing quickly following as he eyed the scene she had set for him. It would be better if she was with him, but he would deal with that tomorrow.

He rinsed off his skin before climbing into the bath, chuckling to himself at the spillover. As he relaxed into the tub, he let out a contented sigh and sent his gratitude to the deities above for giving him the best part of his life: Sakura.

If nothing else—and there was, in fact everything else—, the girl could draw a good bath. A smirk curled the corners of his lips: His girl could draw a good bath.

He rolled his neck, feeling the tension on his shoulders gradually seeped away. This year had been wild. And he knew it would only get wilder. League of Villains, problematic kids who had no care for their own lives or his sanity, Eri and Shinsou. And he hadn’t even counted in school work. 

He let out a long, tired sigh as he leaned his head back, covering his eyes with a wet towel. Sakura was right. He deserved this. 

Just when he was about to fall asleep, the bathroom door was literally ripped off the hinge and he squealed, covering his chest with one hand, and his dignity with the small towel. “Son of a bitch! What the fuck, Sakura?!”

“You kissed me,” she mumbled in disbelief, eyes wide and wild, pinning him.

“Yeah, and?” He righted the towel as it floated away. “Now, get out!”

Shouta! You called me baby and you kissed me.”

He looked at her in confusion. “…I did?”

“You called me baby and you kissed me,” she repeated in a small voice, lacking her usual confidence but tinged with hope. “On the mouth.”

His eyes followed the movement of her lips, unable to fully comprehend whatever he was hearing. Dread coloured his face as it settled in. “…shit.”

“Shit?” Sakura looked at him, aghast. 

Aizawa groaned, submerged his head under the hot water and screamed to the gods because nothing, nothing had gone right in his life. 

He pulled his head out once his thoughts cleared up, scrubbing the water off his face before pushing his hair back. He turned to her, hand outstretched and said, “Come, Sakura.”

Aizawa kept his eyes on her, unblinking and patient, as Sakura stood at the doorway contemplating his hand before dropping the broken door in the hallway and finally taking a step toward him. He was just grateful it wasn’t his bathroom door. 

It was only when he had her hand in his that he let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. He slotted his fingers between hers, locking them together and pulling her to sit on the side of the tub. 

“For the record,” he started, kissing the back of her hand before he continued, “I really did try my best to make things special.”

“Well, clearly you didn’t try hard enough,” she muttered, studying their linked hands.

“Clearly,” he sarcastically agreed. “I just—you’re special to me and you deserve good things, special things. And I wanted so bad to give you that. But alas, god is a fucking menace. And one of drinking’s effects is brain shrinkage, so I guess that’s why I’ve been ruining my goddamn plans.”

He waited until she looked up at him before he lifted a wet hand and wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck as he pulled her to lean in closer. “Sakura.”

“Yes?” She whispered, her eyes traced his lips as he said her name before they met his again. 

Aizawa cradled her jaw with his free hand, pushing her stray hair back to the nape of her neck. The velvety feel of it against his palm made him delirious with the need to see her flushed and disheveled. So he freed them of her messy bun, closing his eyes as he greedily inhaled the sweet smell of her shampoo. “Do you have any idea how you’ve consumed my thoughts?”

“No.”

“No? Well, let me spell it out for you. I’ve had a very good day today. Had fun with the kids at the festival, had an after party with the staff. And yet, despite all the festivities and the fun of watching drunkasses embarrassing themselves, all I could think of was how it would be so fucking perfect to have you with me. To hold your hands, to have you close all the time.”

He pulled away enough to really look at her as his fingers slipped back into her hair and drew across her scalp. Her lips parted in response, his eyes following the action, completely enthralled by her. “…to kiss your lips.”

“Why don’t you, then?” She taunted, her voice just as quiet as his.

Dumbly, he asked, “Why don’t I what?”

“Kiss me. Make me yours.” 

“I’m planning for it tomorrow. But as it is with me, nothing goes as I planned.”

She pulled back, glaring at him with her pink cheeks and furrowed brows. “So should I leave and act surprised tomorrow, or what?”

He leaned back nonchalantly and shrugged. “If you can, yeah. I’d love for it to be a special moment for you, thank you very much.”

“Shouta, I swear—”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Not when he could taste warm caramel on her breath. Not when he could swallow each of her sweet gasps. Not when it dawned on him that finally, finally, he was kissing her. 

He pulled back, just far enough to meet her eyes, and whispered against her lips a secret that had been known by her and many others, “I love you.”

Sakura smiled, looking more relieved than surprised. She chuckled as she leaned into him again for another kiss. “I love you, too. Also,” she gave him another peck, “it’s been so long since I’ve kissed someone. Do I do the tongue now or…”

“Shut the fuck up.” He laughed and drew her toward him for a proper kiss.

He decided that he would get this right and kissed her the way he wanted their first kiss to be: slow and soft.

He was overwhelmed by an indescribable feeling, a sort of tenderness that he had been craving from her. It was such a pure moment. Perfect and tender.

Until Sakura swiveled her head, forcibly insisting him to part his lips further. The intensity set all his nerve—his whole being—thoroughly on fire. 

The feeling of her tongue against his blew his mind. So simultaneously dizzying and numbing that he didn’t notice her climb into the tub until she was clinging to him as though he was the only solid thing in the world. Aizawa understood, better than anyone ever would, because he felt tethered to her, too. Anchored together as their world turned upside down.

“Sakura,” he managed to gasp, “I’m naked.”

“I can tell,” she breathed out, biting his lower lip. “I can feel you.”

Aizawa moaned into her mouth as she ground herself against him. “This is very counterproductive, Sakura. I am the total opposite of relaxed.”

She chuckled, boldly meeting his eyes before she pulled his sweater over her head.

Aizawa, the cool-headed man he was, lost his mind at the sight of her peeling the thick, wet fabric overhead. She was so suddenly topless that it took a moment for his mind to really process what was happening. She was topless. On top of him. Straddling him, all wet and pretty. His question from weeks ago was finally answered at her reveal: Her blush did indeed travel down her whole body. 

And he wasn’t sure if he was any better or worse off for knowing it, though he knew he was being blessed either way. “God, I’m losing myself, it’s insane.”

She giggled, her dainty finger drawing circles on his chest. “Oh, no. Should I leave and wait until tomorrow?”

“You know what?” His fingers skimmed along her spine, smirking as he watched her arch into him from his touch. “I’d love to lose myself for a good while…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He ran his tongue over her lips, taking pleasure in the way her warm body molded against his. “You taste so sweet, baby.”

“Just for you, Shouta,” she breathed, and all at once he couldn’t think of anything but her.

He helped her out of her shorts in a daze, his mouth barely leaving hers between kisses, and when her bare hips were finally in position to sink down over his, Aizawa found himself gripping the warm, smooth skin at her waist.

She sucked in a breath at the feeling, and he decided he would kiss the pain away later—tomorrow, when he could take his time to count the bruises he was sure he’d leave on her body—because he wanted to pull more of those breathy sounds from her lips.

“Sakura,” he murmured, her name falling repeatedly from his lips as her heat wrapped around him. She was relentless, pinning him down as he helplessly watched her so exquisitely taking all of him in. He could understand nothing, think of nothing. Any thought or plan he’d been concocting left him at the feeling. The only thing that existed was them. 

It was maddening. It drove him insane. She drove him insane, and the acceptance of it left him moaning, his hips canting up to meet hers. He was not embarrassed to admit that she had turned him into a stuttering mess. “Fu—fuck. God. Sakura.”

Sakura rested her forehead against his, shaking as her hair fell over them. He hugged her close.

“Shouta.” Her breathing was quick and loud, and it did crazy things to his psyche. “I love you.”

Aizawa laughed, hands lifting to squish her cheeks together as he peppered her red face with wet kisses. “Nothing I plan goes accordingly, huh?”

She giggled, moaning as she rolled her hips over his. “N-nope. But, I’d say I prefer this over whatever you’ve planned.” She groaned when he brought his hand back to her hips, encouraging her to move back and forth languidly. “Like—mmh…Yeah. This is much better.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, watching her as she tried to keep her glassy eyes open. She trembled around him and he felt himself throbbing in response, his orgasm closer than he really wanted it to be. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Not when she looked so beautiful and blissed out atop him.

She owned his every action; and, all he could do was watch in awe as he panted, “Yeah. God, you’re so beautiful.”

Her chuckle echoed against the bathroom tiles, looking at him appreciatively as though he was the beautiful one. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re most welcome.” He bit her jaw softly, smiling as she sighed into him. “I have one small request, though.”

“Hm?”

He held her still. “Call me baby.”

She pulled back, eyes widened in surprise before she snorted and laughed with her head thrown back. Aizawa took the chance to bite the junction of her neck. The sudden attack had her throbbing around him, pulling a groan of pleasure from his stomach.

“Vixen,” he pinched her ass. “But seriously, I beseech you to call me baby.”

“You beseech—“ Sakura pushed his face away, chuckling. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah. But you like it.”

“I love it,” she admitted. “I do. I really do. And,” she tilted her head to the side, licking the side of his neck and biting his earlobe. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Okay. That’s it.” He stood up, holding her tight as he climbed out of the tub. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she rested her head on his shoulder, body shaking with laughter. “I’m done taking things slow. Let’s finish this in bed.”

“Not gonna wait till tomorrow, baby?” She teased, legs squeezing at his waist as he walked down the hall to her bedroom.

The feel of her body, so warm and wet and close to him, left his heart pounding in his chest. Positively giddy over the fact that everything he’s ever wanted was within his grasp- in his arms. 

“Baby, I’ll fuck you tomorrow, too. And the next day. Everyday, really. Who’s gonna stop me?” He joined in her laughter as he gently laid her down on her bed. 

He caressed her face, heart bursting with happiness when she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She was bare—they both were, literally and figuratively—flushed and soft and so beautiful. Her pink hair splayed around her, like a halo of freshly plucked petals.

She was a gift. He still couldn’t wrap it around his head how this was real. Because, how could someone like Sakura, so strong and full of blazing fire, be so docile? So willingly at his mercy?

He wondered if she felt it, too. If she felt the sweetness of the moment in the depth of her soul, too. If she too was wondering if this was real or not.

That this wasn’t a dream or a fantasy. 

“I love you, Shouta,” she said, opening her magnificent green eyes as she smiled at him fondly.

And that was it, wasn’t it? A simple truth. The simple truth. She loved him. She loved him.

Aizawa leaned down, squeezing his eyes closed and burying his face in her neck as emotions came at him like waves. His heart was so full of love that it might explode. It touched him. Overwhelmed him. So he kissed her, deep and long, grounding himself back into reality, moaning as he pushed back into her and smiled against her lips as they sighed in their shared warmth.

This was real. She was just as much his as he was hers. All of him. Always had been. “I love you, too, Sakura.”

Finally, finally: She was his.

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[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Omake 2: The Adults Are IGers

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[unknees]

—The Adults Are Talking

Aizawa Shouta x Haruno Sakura

Omake 6: The Adults Are Creeping

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#bnha #bnha smau #aizawa shouta #haruno sakura #aizawa fics #naruto #bnha x naruto #naruto smau #aizawa x sakura #mha #eraserhead #taat #taat12 #crossover fics #sakuzawa