#shouta aizawa imagine

[dabisbratz]

𝒮𝒲𝐸𝐸𝒯 𝒯𝒪𝒪𝒯𝐻 — shouta aizawa x male reader

w.c: 12.4k

warning: dbf!shouta, age gap, (sho in his early 40s, reader is 23), bottom!reader, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, feminization, mentions of gettin ‘knocked up’ regardless of anatomy, sneaking around, creampie, unprotected sex ( wear condoms ! ), praise/degradation, brat!reader, jealousy, mutual teasing, reader has an oral fixation, improper use of lollipops, mentions of exhibitionism, blowjobs, cumming untouched/hands free orgasm, ‘ taboo ’

sonny says..: not proof read, msorry !! did lotsa jumpin around while writin this. . . n five months later !! she’s all done !! ໒꒰ྀི⸝⸝T ˘ T⸝⸝꒱ྀི১ ♡ m’a lil rusty, forgive me !!

You’re back home for the summer.

Well— not entirely. You’re back at your family’s summer house for the season. Gifted from your grandparents, it teeters at the beginning of a beach, crystal sands and clear, blue waters that stretch out into the horizon. You’ve been looking forward to it since you’d graduated, even if it did come with a set of overbearing parents and a sinful amount of sunscreen.

The air is hot and thick, sticking uncomfortably to your skin through the windshield as you watch an everlasting stretch of greenery and trees pass you by. The road has stretched on for miles, every upcoming exit and street sign blending into one as each hour passes by. You’ve got the company of staticky radio stations and news outlets, spewing something nonsensical about sports, politics, car insurance. . . But it’s the trip you enjoy more than the destination. Traffic and all, you prefer it over the muggy air and parental scolding. Though, the beach is nice. . .

“You’re sure you’re taking the right route?” It’s your mother speaking, her voice crackling through the speakers of your car. You’re sure she’d smack you upside the head for the aggressive roll of your eyes in her. . . general direction, but she’s not exactly within eye-contact distance. Not for another five minutes, anyway.

“I’ve been doing this for years,” You have— it’s true. Though you’re only twenty-two, you’d driven this distance since you’d left for college. There’s a sound akin to the sucking of teeth through the radio, and you have half the mind to turn around and restart your road-trip all over again.

“Why’s there so much attitude in your voice?” Her cheerful, smiley voice suddenly sounds much more shrill, to your chagrin. You thrum your fingers along the leather of the steering wheel, biting back a long, drawn out groan.

“There isn’t any,” Gravel crackles under the weight of your rubber-tire car, snapping and popping into the air as it makes a smooth halt into the driveway. Shifting gears to park, the radio switches off with the twist of your keys. And, perhaps with more force than necessary, you’re slamming the door to your car and face to face with your mother. Her phone is still in hand, eyebrows pinched at the thought of her very own son hanging up on her. “. . . attitude, Ma.”

She hugs you with a squeal, ushering you up the stairs to your childhood ‘home.’ It’s almost exactly like you’d left it— save for a few recent porch decorations and repainted walls. You hope the years have been kind to it, with the irregular weather and constant pipe problems. Floorboards creak under your weight, welcoming you home after a few long years of studies. There’s an everlasting stream of bubbly speech behind you, your mom speaking, but there’s already so much to take in.

The air is fresh and salty, hints of beachy winds flowing upstream through the doorway. It smells like home, and looks like it too, as you situate your small duffel bag by the stairs that lead to the bedrooms. Your room. You hadn’t packed much— there was still a dresser overflowing with old clothes in your bedroom, after all. And now that you think about it, you should probably change into something more fitting for the weather.

“I know you just got here,” The sound of ice swirling against glass catches your attention, and you turn to face your mother. “But could you bring these out to your father?” She’s holding a tray of decorative glasses— or at least, you’d always thought they were— full of oblong ice and freshly squeezed lemonade. The glasses are stocky enough to adorn lollipops— one each, which are probably sickeningly sour. Topped with tiny, colorful umbrellas and intricate swirling straws. It’s almost like she’s trying to impress someone, with the way she’s put so much effort into the drink’s presentation.

Your lips curl to form a playful ‘no’, a boyish smile pulling at your cheeks when she huffs— as if she already knows what you’re about to do. So you shake your head instead, stealing the tray with one hand, “Let me change first.”

In hindsight, wearing clothes about. . four years too small wasn’t a great idea. The shorts that once fit you perfectly— before your growth spurt— are now much too short, like they’ve been tossed around in the laundry one too many times. You feel almost naked, moving the pink hem down with the shake of your legs.

Your mother insists they look just fine, a dramatic downturn to her lips as she rambles on and on about how fast her boy has grown up. Still, as you walk through the sliding glass doors parallel to the open patio, the sunlight bathing your legs does nothing but make you feel stuck under a rapidly growing spotlight.

It all clicks as you walk outside— the detailed drinks, the smell of barbecue and fresh coal. There is someone she’s trying to impress, someone other than your father. Maybe both of them. On a good day.

Wiping the bead of sweat from your brow, your eyes squint at the man in front of you. Around your dad’s age— maybe slightly younger, he stands at a whopping six foot something. There’s age in his face, and worry between his brows as if he’d spent most of his youth grimacing. His hair is long and black like charcoal, save for a few streaks of gray and a salt and pepper ensemble of stubble littering his chin and jaw. Two scars— forming a cross of sorts, one beneath his right eye, horizontal and thin. But the other is much longer, starting below his brow and ending at his cheekbone. It draws your eyes to a milky gray iris— heavily contrasting against the natural black-brown of his left one. It’s pretty, cloudy and almost pearlescent.

His silhouette— tall and thick, with broad shoulders that travel on and on as he crosses thick biceps over his thick chest. He’s standing in the way of the sun, and yet, it peeks through his long hair in small, short leaks. And, surprisingly, his waist is small in his black tank top. If you feel hot he must be scorching, draped in black— down to the beaded bracelet adorning his wrist. His hands— they’re big, maybe enough to cover the entirety of your face, curled into loose fists at his biceps.

And— right, you’re here to help, not gawk. But you can’t help it, shifting your weight from one leg to another as his intimidating gaze slowly sweeps you over. He’s like sex on legs, and if you can squint enough to get the sun out your eyes, you swear you can see the imprint of his cock through his black shorts.

“Uh,” You blink dumbly after introducing yourself, and suddenly the tray you’re holding is weightless. “Ma made these. I’m supposed to help. . . or something. . .”

“Or something.” The man echoes, but it’s quiet and you barely catch it. His voice is deep, way deeper than your own, rumbling in your ears and smooth like butter. Almost husky, with a dark edge to it as flames roar in his face. But it makes your father laugh, hearty and jubilant as he bounces over to where you stand. He gives you a small pat on the back as a greeting, ushering out a small, “son.”

The heat emitting off the grill is enough to make a grown man cry, but neither of you wince when you walk by it. Cold glasses of lemonade are handed out, fingers imprinted on cold condensation painting the surfaces of each glass as they’re passed around— one for you, one for your dad, another for him. You watch rivulets of water drip from his fingertips, down his wrist, past the collection of veins adorning his forearm.

“Mr. Aizawa,” There’s a beat of silence, but it’s quickly filled once you’ve been introduced. “World’s cruelest teacher.”

“Shouta Aizawa.” Is all he says, a correction of sorts, voice grumbly as his fingertips brush against your knuckles. Your eyes flicker down to where he’d touched you, his skin warm and inviting despite the roughness of his palms. You see now, that he’s accompanying your father, occasionally taking over when he walks back into the house every. . . five minutes or so.

“An old friend of mine, we go way back.” Your parents have an odd habit of rambling, it seems, because you and the handsome stranger make exasperated eye contact as your dad begins to reminisce on old memories. “You met him a few times— remember? He’ll be staying with us, so be respectful, you hear me?” His gaze seems to dip for a moment, down your lips and straight to the extra exposed skin of your thighs, then settle back to the ocean before you can comment.

But those five minutes must start now, because after a firm squeeze to your shoulder your father heads inside, leaving you alone with his. . . friend. He’s awfully quiet, busying himself as the patio door slides shut— occasionally sighing as he wipes away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. It’s obvious you’re staring, maybe a bit too hard, but he’s the best scene around, really. Even with the beach right behind him.

And maybe it’s wrong to think this way— but he’s hot. Old enough to be your dad and then some, sure, but it doesn’t make him any less attractive. He almost makes you nervous, the slow blink of his eyes as he pays you no mind.

“So you’re staying with us, huh?” You eye the juicy meat he’s been flipping for the last five minutes, golden brown and sizzling in the heat. It’s rather thick, soon to be lazily flattened by the tongs he's holding and— you can’t help but wonder. . . Is he good with his hands?

“Don’t make a habit of asking strange old men questions like that.” It’s not entirely clear if he’s serious or not, but he’s certainly assertive. Like a firm, guiding hand placed at the nape of your neck. Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, but before you can ask what he means, it clicks. You’d said it out loud, let it float into the air like an everyday, casual question. But Aizawa doesn’t seem exactly bothered, more passive (if anything), as he takes a swig of the fruity, sour concoction.

“You’re not strange.” Is what you conclude, slamming the tray down hard enough to rattle its contents, and the man notes your lack of regard. Even with a slight spill you don’t bother to clean, you’re already turning to walk off the patio and dig your toes into the hot sand before it can be mentioned— but not without plucking a lemon coated lollipop free from its icy enclosure of glass. There’s an arrangement of seashells hidden beneath the coarse mounds of the glimmering seaside. Different sizes and colors, different textures and shapes. Where some would scrape the soles of your feet, others would glide across them. But as a kid you’d liked the search for tiny crabs much more than the search for shells. Though you’re much older now, you’re not afraid to say you miss it.

“But I’m old?” Aizawa says, not too far behind you from where he stands. There’s a light glint of dry humor in his voice that sends butterflies down your throat and straight into your stomach.

“Yeah. Old enough.” Your small laughter is sweet, dancing in the air in a way that has Shouta nearly pressing his palm flat into the skillet— just to check if his heart is still beating. What do you mean by that, anyway?

There’s a divot where the tightness of your shorts dip into your skin, pressing against the plush skin of your ass whenever you bend over. Even as you’re upright, Shouta can’t stand to look for too long— you’re a real, proper, honest and genuine distraction. Yet here he is, watching you move around on your hands and knees, ass taut and round— shorts tight enough to show off the cute bulge of your balls from behind. And now that he’s really looking, it’s obvious you’re not wearing anything underneath.

He shakes his head, grunting to himself as he peels processed cheese free from its plastic packaging. You just met, that’s not right, you’re simply just minding your own.

“Ugh!” You share a groan, and for completely different reasons. Aizawa can’t help but watch you scramble in the sand, presumably after whatever sea-creature that had the pleasure to pinch you right on the finger. But you seem happy once it’s retrieved, stuck in the seclusion of its tiny shell as you hold it in your palm. From what he can see, you’re not much of a brat at all. Maybe your parents are just too hard on you. He’s always known them to be dramatics.

Still, he has half the mind to drag you over by your ankle, or maybe to press your handsome face into the sand while he fucks you from behind. Ever since you’d brought out that damned lemonade— tugging on the hem of the fabric as if you’d suddenly grown conscious of just how short they were— he’d been hard. And now he has to listen to you grunt and groan over the smallest of injuries. . . His best friend’s son, his presumed pride and joy.

He’s fucked.

From where he stands, slightly elevated, he can see the bulge of the sweet protruding from your cheeks, stuck afore your teeth. Cute, as it swishes from side to side, stuck in your mouth as your occupied fingers caress the diaphanous shell in the palm of your hand. Your lips move, puckered, around the sucker, curled and glossy with molten sugar— it’s hard to make out exactly what words your mouth forms, yet Shouta doesn’t think he’d be able to listen anyway.

Turns out the creature was a hermit crab.

Shouta learns this at dinner, the day’s hard work shared on plastic platters and glass

bottles in the middle of the beach. There’s a roaring flame between the four of you, it casts golden embers along your skin every so often, crackling into the air. Cicadas chirp with the night’s welcome, loud and joyful in retaliation to the silent, serene fireflies and settling ocean.

You’re all sipping on beers, some more than others, but it’s enough to loosen everyone up. Even Shouta, whose eyes look lidded with sleep the more he drinks. He’s not incoherent, he never is. If anything he’s observant. For one, you have an awful habit of holding onto this evening’s lollipop, it seems, as you have it situated between your fingers like a cigarette. Sometimes your grip around it tightens, like when your mother wraps her hand around his bicep, squeezing the flesh in small, sporadic rounds. And though neither of you want to say it, let alone think it— you’re jealous. That’s the second thing.

Even with Shouta’s knee brushing against your own, you can’t help it. He’s so warm, muscly legs pressed against your own in a manner that’s almost electrifying. You want it all to yourself, to suffocate in his heat and capable hands.

You zone out of the conversation, blinking at the fire with reserved eyes until a thick screwer pokes at the flesh of your shoulder, leaving behind a tiny dimple. Jet black hair invades your vision for a moment, smelling of faint seasalt and warm cologne, until you turn, “What?”

“You want chocolate on your marshmallow, right?” Your mother asks for him, squeezing a transparent bag of thick, soft marshmallows. It’s tossed to you in a flash, to which you catch, but not before stealing a glance at the man beside you. His jaw sets, poking out from the mass of stubble. Like she’d stolen a precious moment away.

“Right,” You mumble, stabbing the skewer through the excessive amount of sugar. The stick hovers above the fire, the sweet melting to a crisp, flaky brown. Sticky and gooey, it slowly begins to lose its form. Through all the conversation you can’t help but glance at the older man to your left, taking in the glow of yellow and orange caressing his tan skin. His silhouette is bold and broad, legs spread wide as he sits on a thick log. What was once brown turns a deep, dark charcoal. “Oh, shit! Fuck. I meant shoot, sorry.”

You’re not supposed to swear in front of your parents— Aizawa’s paternal intuition picks that up. But shoving the marshmallow into your mouth, even as it has yet to cool down, he doesn’t quite get. Either way, your expression. . . it’s sickeningly cute. It’s cute to watch you fumble. With lips pursed into a tight line, cheeks bitten and eyebrows pinched with apology despite how obviously uncomfortable you are with the piping, burnt sugar spreading along your tongue.

His heart could almost burst.

“You’re fine, kid.” Shouta’s voice is a gentle whisper, airy like the waves brushing against the shore. With his eyes caught on the sticky white lingering on your cheek, he's desperately aware you’re not a kid. The way you move and speak, the way you carry yourself. The way you suck on lollipops like they’re something else. He’s never been one for dirty jokes or subtle innuendos but. . . yeah, this is doing something to him. His fingers twitch with want, the desire to wipe it away and rub his thumb along your lips. He should really get it together.

And maybe the fact that he’s more worried about your parents being in the way than the fact that they’re your parents proves that.

But they’re pretty preoccupied, lost in conversation neither of you are exactly interested in. Whirling his own marshmallow, chocolate melts down its fluffy outside. It’s steaming, hot and fluffy after twirling around the fire. Looking at it now, it looks comically small in his large hands, much bigger than your own. His lips part, cool air leaving the ‘o’ shaped mold of his mouth as he blows on it with a low, “Here.”

There they go again, mouth open as your pink tongue covers your row of bottom teeth, Shouta doesn’t let go of the skewer despite the light squeezes you press along his knuckles. Instead he holds on tighter, lifting and reaching until the desert melts in your mouth and sticks to your lips. Messy on purpose, your heart plummets into your tummy when dark eyes watch marshmallow fluff pull away from between your teeth. Hungry, starving.

“I can do it myself.” You mumble, wondering if the heat prickling your skin is from the brush of his fingers against your own or the wilting fire.

“Can you?” His expression is tired and flat, but his voice tilts with blooming amusement. It’s odd, the way you’re so quick to shut him down. You almost respond more openly when you hear sneaky comments or listen to gossip— ‘that boy just doesn’t know what to stop,’ ‘why’s he such a smartass?’ — spoken about you directly by you.

“Yeah,” There’s a shine in your eye that isn’t just a product of the glowing fire. Mischievous, almost. “I don’t break that easily.”

Shouta could definitely take your dad in a fight. It’s the first thing that pops into mind as the two of you stand in the dark, dimly lit kitchen. Your parents had gone off to bed almost an hour ago, and with the clock approaching half past midnight, it leaves you two alone. So, yes, he’s considering who would win in a brawl because he can’t stop staring at his best friend’s son and his pretty, kissable lips.

They’re sheen with spit, your pink tongue licking them over as you scrub away yesterday’s dirt from the kitchen counter. It’s a noncommittal motion, your arms wiping suds and heavy contents of water along the granite surface. Yet you seem absolutely dead-set on getting that one stain. The stain that has your ass brushing against his side, bare skin rippling the harder, lazier, you scrub. Not that there’s even a stain to clean.

Yep. He’s fucked.

You suppose he should be focusing on the dishes— not that there’s much of those either— but his attention strays.

It carries him through the motion of leaning over, his body practically draping your own as you bend at the waist. Black hair again, wisps of it, lightly pressed against your back as he leans down, lips by the shell of your ear and an arm trapping you in. His cock is pressed right against the swell of your ass, and he may have to consider slipping it between his waistband.

“I think you got it.”

“Oh, really?” Your hips are moving again, side to side as you scrub shapes into nothing. “Double check for me?”

A low groan sounds behind you, big hands at your thighs that squeeze enough to have the plush skin bruised and tender in the morning. His hand travels, snaking up your thighs to meet the silky skin of your ass. Spread nicely with the way you’re bent over, warmth radiating off each globe as his thick pointer finger loops around the thin layer of pink cotton pressing against your balls.

It’d be so easy, perfect access to slip his thick cock into the warm, tight walls of your hole and pound you against the counter. You could sit on his dick for the whole day, drooling and dumb the more the head kisses your prostate again and again and again. Your Daddy could fuck you on your dad’s favorite sofa, make it squeal and whine under the weight of him filling your fucked-out and used cunt over and over.

Dark pupils blow wide as he pulls the fabric away, watching your hole flutter around nothing. He coos, sweet and deep. Just give him a minute, he’ll give you everything you need. Everything and more, until you’re a braindead fucktoy with glassy eyes and sticky, dripping holes. Until—

You’ve slipped past his arm, twisting as your growling stomach makes itself known. You inhale a quivering breath through your nose, eyes wide and expecting and waiting. His best friend’s son, wriggling and writhing under his palms, handsome face twisting as pearly teeth bite at your stout bottom lip.

He’s almost frustrated with himself, voice flat and distant when you puff out your cheeks. Forget a distraction— you’re a real, honest brat. “You’re still hungry.”

“I’m a growing man, Sho.” It’s almost consequential how your voice cracks, breathy and teetering the edge of a whine as he releases his grip on your body. Light from the fridge illuminates your silhouette in a yellow, halo-adjacent glow, and once again Shouta is staring a little too hard at his best friend’s son as he bends forward at the waist.

Aizawa weighs the juxtaposition between the middle of that sentence for a moment before his breath catches in your throat. Sho. You’d called him by a nickname, ten times sweeter than the candied fruit (grapes, are they?) you’re now sinking your teeth into. You’ve grown alright, and the proof stands hard, throbbing, and pressing against your shorts once you’ve returned to face him. It’s obvious your ploy with the fruit was just something to keep your mind off cumming in your cute, soft shorts— but he’d honestly have preferred to see that.

“I can see that.”

Rough palms press into your jaw— firm, but not aggressive, until fingers close and clasp at your cheeks. A dissolving layer of baby fat at your cheeks spills between his stern fingers, and you blink as the older man turns your face from left to right, then reverse. Seems he’s got a nasty habit of looking you over, breaking you down— bare bones. You still have enough room to chew, teeth grinding on the crystallized sugar with a hard and resounding crunch.

There’s always something in your mouth.

Dark eyes flicker to the lump appearing and disappearing in your throat as you swallow, sweet sugar dotting your lips, “You’re hard.”

“Yeah,” It earns a dark chuckle, though there’s not much light humor in it, “So are you.” His lips curl as he releases his grip, slow and lingering.

“Usually,” your gaze drops to his lips. “When two men,” Then up to his deep, dark eyes as you press against him, chest to chest. His cock twitches against the heat of your body, you can imagine it now— thick and pretty, curved upward with a sticky head and throbbing, heavy veins. “Make eachother. . . hard, they—”

A door slams upstairs, the air going still as your breath catches in your throat. As if that single disturbance has stolen all the oxygen in the world, your body goes rigid and stiff, and the sound of tired steps make their way descending down wooden stairs. The candied grapes are swapped for thick fingers, with light peppers of hair at the knuckles, and you can’t help but suck the seasalt right off.

“Behave.” He takes a single step back, dripping with indubitable authority that makes you feel light and airy. Ready to bend at his will with lazy eyelids and hazy eyes. It’s not a question, not a suggestion— it’s a demand.

“You’re still up,” Your father, shameless as he walks by the two of you with barely any coverings, makes a sleepy gesture in your general direction as he opens the fridge. “Both of you, huh?” He sounds faintly out of breath, and his skin sheen. The mental implications make you cringe, taking a step toward the characteristically nonchalant man who’d just stepped away from you.

Shouta’s eyes narrow.

“Don’t tell me I’m being replaced!” He’s always been a loud man, your father, but it seems tonight his one-too-many beers have finally caught up to him. It’s just a joke, the both of you know it, but you can’t help the prickle of heat poking at your throat. You’re pulled in by the back of your head, your father’s hand pressed against your hair as he holds you in a firm side-hug, “Rather Mr. Aizawa be your old man?”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Your smile is wide and tantalizing, heavy and dripping with something that has yet to be named. “Are you a good Daddy, Mr. Aizawa?”

Then, his eye twitches, “When I want to be.”

Your laugh is instantaneous and loud, an awkward thing that stretches into deep silence. There’s a lot of things you’d like Mr. Aizawa to be— rough, gentle, sweet, and mean. But your dad? It’s laughable, and couldn’t be farther from the truth. And sure, maybe the title you'd like to use on him sounds similar, but they’re most definitely not the same. If only he knew.

“I’m sure you’re the best,” He watches you smile, opposite ends of your mouth pulling at your cheeks in a motion that doesn’t quite meet your eyes— but it’s convincing enough. “Better than your other friends, right Dad?”

Shouta is avoiding you.

You know it, you can tell! He’s always gone nowadays— a couple weeks into your vacation and you can only count a mere handful of the times you remember seeing him. You’ve barely talked, barely stole a few glances here and there— he may as well have disappeared. He’s out somewhere, somewhere that involves your father, and the ocean, and his generously sized deck-boat. You don’t want to say it, but you know you’re the reason why. You’ve gone a bit overboard, perhaps, with the flirting. Ever since that night— even before then, it’d become a natural habit of yours to call the man Daddy.

And, now, he’s grown even closer to your parents because of it. Whenever you come down for breakfast they’ve already finished, leaving your plate in the microwave— as if you’d want cold, limp eggs and soggy, get charred bacon. You want to scream, really. There’s your mother, who leaves lingering touches and bats her eyelashes like some sort of schoolgirl. You feel almost evil for the rage that sears your blood— even more so when your first thought is she’s pushing fifty.

Then there’s your father. Who is and always will be, not if you can help it, closer to Shouta than you ever will be. They drink together a lot, the guest more in moderation, but it still hurts to see them laugh about old times— over, and over, and over again. Even when you’re the topic of conversation, despite your presence being completely ignored, it hurts. You’re right here.

So you mope, lounging around in your swim trunks. Your skin sticks to every surface, humid and thick as your mother complains to you about getting some sun, stepping out the house, then something about how you need to fix the look on your face. She says the warm rays on your skin will do you some good, the salty water of the sea against your body will toughen up your bones and loosen your muscles. But there’s really only one thing on your mind.

It trickles into about an hour and a half when Mr. Aizawa finally comes back. Your father too, you suppose, with flushed cheeks that only sake can replicate. It’s once you’ve been pulled outside and forced to stand in wet, thick sand that washes away from your feet with every sweep of the shore— that they return. Once the sun has begun to set, yet still bright enough to have your brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, they return.

“There’s my boy!” No one’s boy, actually. Your father shouts with an intoxicated wave, and the grimace on Shouta’s face is hidden behind his whipping hair as he slows the boat to a stop.

Or at least, you think so. It’s hard to see with the sun in your eyes, yellow and orange flakes of the gold star percolating your vision.

It dances along the surface of the ocean, pretty and shimmering the closer you step, the further you go, until you’re submerged in water from your knees—down. There’s a shout, something akin to a ‘catch!’, and you have barely any time to react to the ball that’s flying to you with an oddly precise amount of speed and velocity. You gasp, whipping your head back to catch the ball between two sea-soaked hands.

“What the hell?!” Your hands sting, pretty eyes blinking back at the two silhouettes in your vicinity. Mainly at Aizawa, who hasn’t even acknowledged you, let alone looked away from the resplendent horizon. And what’s so good about that? Of all things to look at— you’re right here! You don’t leave with the setting sun, nor do you only ever arrive with the rising one. You’re a constant, and you know you don’t hurt to look at.

So you throw the ball back, all your force behind it with a smug look on your face until it smacks Shouta in the leg— right in the center of his calf with a horrifying thump of a sound.

“Fuck,” You shout in horror, despite it all. Despite the desire to maul him the last few weeks, rushing forward into the water with the cutest tremor to your brows. “Fuck, okay, shit, my bad!”

And it seems you can’t move fast enough to wade through the rippling waves, where schools of tiny, nipping fish and textured shells had twirled and danced about through the currents of pellucid water. But Shouta seems just fine, almost as if he’d forgotten how to react to the feeling of getting punted with a ball at full force. He picks it up, waves it in his large palm, and throws it back. You can hear it tear through the air, just as it smacks you in the shoulder with so much force you don’t register it at first.

Numbness spreads along your arm, eyes blinking up at the older man who laughs. It’s quiet yet hearty, and not at all a pretty sound. It’s more contagious if anything, a wheeze of sorts, but your lips still curl into a petty frown regardless. You can make out a huff of “Your face!” broken up with laughter, biting back on his tongue.

“I’m not laughing.” You grumble, rubbing at your shoulder with faux diligence.

There’s an eerie smile on his face, enough to send shivers down your spine as water drapes your face and drips down your body— boat engine revving with ferocity as the men float off into the boarding dock— Aizawa’s presence arrives just as fast as it leaves.

You’re left to your devices, gawking as you process the last few minutes— his smile, your brattiness and stupidity, the way you’d only just noticed his prosthetic leg— at the mention you can feel miscellaneous fish brush against your own, scales shining through the transparent waters. You can’t help but smile too, wiping it away with the back of your water-draped forearm. Fuck.

It’s only been a month and you’re smitten. He’d left you in favor of your father again, and all you can do is giggle about it.

There’s not much you know about the man— now that you think about it. There’s been a brief drunken mention of him having kids of his own, a little girl, you think. Maybe a son? Despite his affliction for quiet, Aizawa looks as though there’s more he wants to say. To share, to tell. Your father must know it all, seeing as they grew up together, and part of you can’t help but feel a bit jealous.

Hmph.

“What’re you sulking for?” His voice has broken you out of a daydream, turning your body to look him in the eyes. The man of the hour— Shouta. You almost hate how quick you are to melt under his gaze, squaring your shoulders with the stability of poorly glued popsicle sticks.“That ball bounce off your head, too?”

“I’m not sulking.” You watch him walk around the perimeter of the shore, slow and calculating, with his hands balled up in the fabric of his black t-shirt. He pulls it overhead, tummy contracting and biceps rippling— it still manages to catch you by surprise, how much muscle he’s hiding under his baggy clothes. Your brain sets off a symphony of ooh’s and ahh’s, unable to tear your gaze from the light rise and fall of his chest.

Your eyes trail back up, past the bend of his collarbones, up the display of stubble on his throat— he’s staring right at you.

“Uh — I wasn’t. . anyway. . What’re you looking at?”

His lips twitch, briefly pressed together before relaxing as he steps into the cold water. He’s slow, hair rippling just as smooth as the ocean, the further he moves forward. And, despite that, he slowly curls a finger to and fro, as if he’s talking to a small kitten. “C’mere.”

You’re frowning when you trudge forward, hesitance in your step. “Mr. Aizawa,” you grumble, still something of a cute little sound, using the prefix your father introduced him with. Something about it makes Shouta’s frame stiffen— the title, or maybe the pettiness behind it. It’s not like you call him that when you’re in a particularly good mood. “You didn’t seem to want me around earlier.”

“Quiet,” He tuts, clicking his tongue as if he knows the game you’re playing. But despite the curt, clean-cut execution of his tone, his thumb finds your cheek with the same gentleness as a spring breeze. “Your parents were always around earlier.”

Oh.

You play off your surprise well enough, swatting his hand away with a deep grunt. Sure, it feels good. His hands on your skin— such rough palms that cover your body — but you’re not desperate. Not entirely, not even when he fixes the twist of your face with a quick look to your furrowed brows. You settle for a sigh, grumbling, “They don’t have shit to do with me.”

“You’re, what, twenty-five—“

“Twenty three.” You interject, almost proud you can correct him. Rivulets of water trail down your arms, and his gaze seems to follow its motion.

“Twenty three,” He echoes with something of a breathless sigh tilting his voice. For a moment you think it’s the interruption— he’ll work on it later. Maybe he’s been struck by just how much younger you really are. “They have everything to do with you. You’re still their kid, I doubt they’d be enthusiastic about leaving you alone with an older man. A stranger, at that.”

“But they did,” You look around, as if to prove your point. Shouta’s never been one for dramatics, let alone those fueled by snappy attitudes and rolling eyes, but it looks cute on you. Maybe even cuter if it were accompanied by tears. “They left us alone. . . Half naked. . . At a beach. . . Alone..”

“I get it. We’re alone,” Shouta’s voice has always been so deep, rumbly and tired and smooth in your ears but even more so when he’s irritated. “Drop the attitude.” It’s different in a way. Leaves no room for argument, though you still feel the overwhelming need to stomp your foot and keep on pressing. You can’t help the shudder, nor the goosebumps crawling up your thighs. It’s just so fun to push his buttons, to watch his passive face twist for a split second as he processes your words.

It’s not exactly hard when he allows it. Shouta lets you push until your heart’s content, only reprimanding you with a glance or cleared throat— and it’s almost eerie. You can’t help but feel

like you should be anticipating something, even as you stand flush against his thick body in lukewarm ocean water and he looks at you with contentment.

Then it occurs to you. . . He’s letting it build up.

“And you’re not a stranger, Mr. Aizawa.” Obviously you’re softening the blows, so he watches you step forward, arms crossed over his thick, plush chest. You’re just so cute, brushing past his overwhelming seriousness with a smile— albeit sly. He can’t stay mad forever. It’s not fair, how cute you are, with lips stretched out and teeth on display, with the apples of your cheeks rising, and the cutest little twinkle in your eye. He wants to kiss you. . . He wants to kiss you so bad it’s starting to hurt.

Especially when you lean forward, sunlight bouncing off the ocean surface and across your body— painting you in pretty, golden slivers of glow. Across your face, your chest, your stomach, your thighs. It’s been a while since he’s felt his skin against your own. Since he’s run his large, calloused hands along your body.

“What happened to ‘Daddy’?” He asks, absentmindedly.

“What?” You break his trance, looking down at yourself with a hint of something Shouta can’t quite place. Uncertainty, perhaps? Vulnerability, maybe. It’s odd, you usually prance around so confidently. You wear the tiniest— tightest— clothes known to man, have the smartest mouth, egg him on day in and day out.

That’s not it. You look smug. You’re playing him for a damn fool.

“Nothing.” Aizawa sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s wrong— it’s cliché, maybe even taboo. He wants to wipe that look off your face. He wants to kiss his best friend’s son stupid. The man he’d just shared parenting advice to, the man he’d spent years upon years of highschool, college, divorces, with. It’d been so innocent when he’d visit— maybe he should’ve never stopped. Maybe he shouldn’t have come back to see you in full bloom, so handsome and lithe and sweet.

“ ‘Nothing,’ ” You echo, snarky as you mimic the flat, detached tone of Shouta’s voice. If you weren’t sulking before you definitely are now, readying yourself to push past him like some spoiled brat who was just denied their favorite candy after being caught trying to steal it nonetheless. So He holds onto your bicep, squeezing the flesh as it flexes with your feeble attempt at struggling.

“Are you done yet? Or do you need a minute to calm down?” He shifts his weight, voice calm and level as he holds you still despite the straining. Not a single hair on him is out of place, his tranquility almost alarming.

“Let go, old man!” He has to ignore the rush of adrenaline the back and forth gives him— the way he has an incessant urge to squeeze your jaw just a bit tighter.

“Hey,” You watch his lips curl to coo, a tone somewhat akin to a parent shushing a fussy child. Your face is turned to face him directly, “How many times do I have to talk to you?” Then impossibly close as his warm breath pans over the expanse of your face, “What’d I say about the attitude?”

“I don’t care what you say about it.” Your face is squished against his palm as you go to squirm your way out of his hold, but with the way his head angles down toward your face— you can barely get the words to sound convincing. There’s a giggle in your voice, like you think his frustration is amusing.“You like it, don’t you? Forget strange, you’re dirty!”

He’s the only thing keeping you upright, eyes narrowed and lidded, “Stop fuckin’ playing with me, little boy.”

“Dad never lets me drive the boat,” Though the man can sense your whining from miles away, it still manages to catch him off guard. Shouta quirks a brow in questioning, hand hovering a polite foot away from your calf as you stand to walk along the wading boat floor. “Destroyed his last one when I was a kid,” (He doesn’t have to know you were actually nineteen when you did.) You speak in a tone that makes him think just maybe you consider it more your father’s fault than your own. “This one’s nicer anyway.”

“That’s wasteful.” Aizawa bites the inside of his cheek, brows furrowed into a familiar line. Had one of his kids done that it’d be a completely different story. Surely one they wouldn’t be proud of telling either. Through the corner of his eye he watches you dig into the cooler, scrabbling past the beer bottles and iced hennessy, to pull out an ice cream.

“To you,” You spare him a glance before finally plopping down in the passenger’s seat with much more force than necessary— especially when sitting on a boat. “I did him a favor.”

The cooler did a poor job— your ice cream is already melted and soft once it’s unwrapped. Thick, velvety cream that you lap up with your tongue dribbles down your knuckles. He should find it gross, but your pretty eyes flickering upward to meet his own as you take one long, slow lick up each bend of your fingers has done the complete opposite. Fuck. It’s hot— your sticky fingers and messy lips, your pinched brows and tiny, pleased whines.

If only it were his cock.

Shouta’s thick. Much thicker than your ice cream, he’s sure you’d feel a good stretch to your lips if you wrapped them around the head of his cock. You’d probably whine about how hard you have to try, how heavy it is on your tongue— how much it’s stuffing you full when it hasn’t even slid down your throat yet. You’d cry too, maybe, with drool slicking your chin and coating his dick in a pretty, shiny layer of thick saliva.

“Want some?” You lean uncomfortably forward, though your legs are over the arms of your seat and draped across Shouta’s lap. Already close, Shouta can smell the oreo on your tongue and vanilla cream by the corner of your lips. “You’re staring pretty hard.”

“Sit up,” The deflection is an answer in itself, yet the dark-haired man can’t find a reason to look away. “Before you hurt yourself.”

Instead, you take his wrist, thick and decorated with a long vein, to fiddle with his fingers. They’re long— healthy, strong, clipped haphazardly— big. He watches you split his fingers apart, lacing your free hand with his own— and though he remains with all five fingers up, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the urge to close them around your much smaller ones. Shouta clears his throat while you hum, lapping at your ice cream before pressing your lips against his knuckles, “Want you to hurt me instead.”

“Hush,” There’s a sharp intake of breath, dark lashes fluttering as multicolored eyes glance past your shoulder. It’s evident he wants to say more— in the way he shifts his weight to lean outward. “You hardly know me.”

Your foot nudges his upper thigh, pressing into the firm skin as the boat moves further toward the horizon. It feels more secluded that way.. Private, even. As if there’s only the two of you left on the dreamy island. Your face looks a bit exasperated, like you’ve never had to work so hard in your life, and he has to admit it— it’s cute.

“I know you grew up with my dad,” He ignores the venom behind your tongue as you mention your father, letting out a low hum of confirmation. “I know you have two kids— adopted, right?”

“Hitoshi and Eri.” He interjects, voice soft and fond. You’d never noticed it before, but now you’re acutely aware of the gentle presence of breeze and rippling waters. Shouta’s relaxed face is much sweeter, still creased with age but not quite as deep. The cute, pinched dips between his brows are gone, but you know how to bring it back.

“Lucky. Wish you were my Daddy instead,” Aizawa isn’t sure which word he���s more hung up on, nor how it's so easy for you to completely twist his words— but as much as it rushes to his cock, gets him twitching in his pants and throbbing all the way down his heavy shaft— he doesn’t like it. You talk entirely too much. With lips much too sweet and sheen with cream. With a tongue that flicks and presses against your teeth when you smile. With a pretty voice he could listen to, all day. Something that’d sound better through choking and gagging—ragged and crackly and used. Your lashes flutter, soft and gentle against your cheek. “How old is Hitoshi? My age? If he takes after you, then. . .You’re just—“

“Listen to me,” Perhaps it’s not very characteristic of him, but he just can’t stop. Shouta moves without thinking, pressing his fingers into your cheeks until your lips are puckered. “For as long as I’m here,” he offers a squeeze. “For as long as your father is here,” then another, “Turn. It. Off.”

Your face melts into something floaty and distant, the smirk melting right off your face into something much more preferable. His thumb is so close, so close to your pretty lips. You blink once— twice, even— before regressing back into a grin, lips pressing against his long fingers. Fucking brat.

“I’ll just have to hit up Hitoshi sometime, then.”

The persistent comment nearly knocks him over, straight off the boat and plummeting into the cerulean depths of the sea. Instead, Shouta finds it better to step on the gas. . . To ignore the prickling heat in his blood, to ignore the easy taptaptap-ing of your fingers against the screen of your phone. It’s so easy for you to say anything around him— like a deliberate disregard for his reaction. His fingers thrum against the tiller, then wrap around its leather exterior to squeeze, and he doesn’t miss (not even for a second) the glance you give him through the corner of your eye.

The silence is almost painful. The motor speaks for you, loud and rushed and heavy. Aizawa’s jaw sets, clenched at each chiseled edge. His eyebrows furrow deep, angry, and his lips remain tightly shut. You can’t help but stare, watching his hair whip in the wind, dreamy and mellifluous. Not a moment of eye contact is shared, and you feel yourself slinking back into the white leather of your chair for the first time this evening.

Come the wooden dock just adjacent to the shoreline, Shouta’s throwing away wrappers (they’re all yours) and unbuckling his seatbelt. Your arms cross, a pout heavy in your lips as your eyes flutter closed. . Almost as if you being unable to see him makes him unable to see you.

“C’mon, baby.” You both miss the nickname, and despite the tension, it feels so natural dripping from his tongue.

Still, you whine. Mind occupied by your nearly offset tantrum prior to getting back at the dock. “I’m staying outside.”

“You’ll get heatstroke.” Shouta sighs, stepping back to lift you into his arms not even a moment later. You consider it ironic, for a moment, he always wears black despite the scorching heat. Bent at the waist as he leans over the open inside of the boat to unbuckle your seatbelt, his face remains stoic as your arms flail and fly to push him away. Your pretty face morphs into a nasty scowl, grumbles and mumbles toppling from your lips— you’re embarrassed.

He sets you down on the creaking wood, hands placed steady at your waist and shoulder to keep you upright— in your feeble attempt at escapism, your last result was simply going limp.

You just won’t budge, standing planted at the end of the dock despite the tugs to your biceps, forearm— hands, wrists. Your last attempt at pushing him away ends up in stumbles, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stomp down the polished dock, eyes hardening with the contact of deep, dark pools in Aizawa’s irises.

You were holding hands.

It’s been days. You haven’t left your room in days. At first, Shouta doesn’t worry. He doesn’t think twice about it, doesn’t question why you don’t come downstairs. When he asks your parents about it it’s always the same thing— ‘That’s just how he is when he doesn’t get his way,’ or ‘He’ll come around.’ The more he asks, the mode suspicion, More questions, mostly wondering why he’s so enamored by their son— even if he had been closer to you when you were younger. But that was long ago, and you hardly remember.

And that isn’t even it.

He starts to worry, to feel bad, on day six. Not a single sound that even points to your presence. No creaking floorboards, no music playing from your old, antique and overpriced record player, no sounds of muffled laughter. It makes him feel out of his skin, like a bystander watching the inhabitants of this very beach house go about their day like nothing is wrong. But this wrong, so very wrong—

He wants you. His boy, his brat, his best friend’s son. It’s wrong and it’s taboo, but so help him, he yearns.

His feet had carried himself upstairs before his mind could, following after you a good half-hour later. You heard him on his way in, the shuffle of his slipper-clad feet from the outside of your door. Still, you’d made no effort to move, no effort to free yourself from the cocoon of your childhood blankets, no effort to open the door despite his gentle knocking.

“You ready to talk yet?” He was willing to brush it all aside. The pushing, the persistent flirting, the slight disregard for his feelings, the mentions of his son. Really, he was jealous. Maybe it’s unsavory for him to admit, maybe he shouldn’t think of his son as competition. And he knows, of course, there’s nothing there— he’s only ever competing with himself. He just can’t help it.

Maybe he’s a bit spoiled too.

“I don’t like being ignored.” Your voice was small, but he could still hear it through the door. He heard it all, every implication. His sweet boy, his spoiled brat. You froze, just briefly, before he let himself in. The door creaked slowly with its open and close, a gentle click of the lock as the air grew thick.

Your old bed is small and creaky. Almost as much as the underused floorboards, your old bedroom screams with just as much personality as it does neglect. There’s tiny figurines, posters, awards, memorabilia— but it’s all too clean. Even if it has collected dust, not a thing is out of place. Pristine. There’s a few scattered photos— awkward haircuts, familial pets, the works. . Unapologetically you, maybe when you were just a tad bit more naive— but you nonetheless. It even smells like you, just with a hint of sea salt and warm, summer-y vanilla. Shouta wants to bury his nose in it.

“None of my fancy college boyfriends liked it here, Maybe ‘Toshi would.” You shift your weight as Shouta sits at the edge of your bed, the springy mattress creaking ever so slightly. There’s something left unsaid between the small string of words— and it’s sour. Twists on Shouta’s tongue, like he’s bitten into old bread, and it’s not just the mention of past boyfriends. Sure, that’s not exactly what he’d call this. . . relationship, but it’s not like it’d feel wrong. And he’d certainly feel bitter if his son were in his shoes. “Guess my sheets weren’t silky enough. Can tell you what was, th—”

“I like it.” It’s simple. The admission— simple and sweet, like it’s obvious. Shouta watches your lips part for a moment, just to close again, like a fish out of water. You look so small when you’re caught off guard, glancing to the side and shifting your weight onto your palms as you sit in the comfy middle of your bed. He knows what you’re doing— redirecting the conversation by flirting (it does get his heart beating, he’ll admit it)— and it makes you seem softer, almost.

He watches you sniffle for a moment, a quiet sound as you shift your knees with exuberating coyness. Your eyebrows furrow, cheeks puffed into a pout because, “That's it? You just ‘ like ’ it?”

He’ll give it to you, you never give up. He’d been warned, he was skeptical, and he’s been proven wrong. And, in the brunette’s head, you’d tallied over three strikes. Perhaps he was being too lenient. And now, Shouta, the weak man that he is, simply wants to indulge.

“What else would I say?”

“That it’s nice,” You cock your head to the side. “That you’ve never seen a room so nice. Which m’sure is true, anyway. . Are you low income, Sho? I can’t imagine what it’s like being a single father of two— or one, since Hitoshi moved out forever ago.”

The older man takes a breath through his nose, and out through his mouth. Pretty irises flicker down to meet the rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. Then, like the tidal wave of emotion has washed away back into shore, his voice is level as he speaks, “You spoke to him.”

“You ignored me,” You say it as if it’s obvious, simple, that if you can’t have Shouta you’ll have to settle for the next best thing. And though it’s not entirely true, you only really stalked his social media to learn more about his father, you don’t think your heart can stomach seeing pride swell in Aizawa’s chest. “Wanted your attention, Daddy.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath through his teeth, cold air rattling the bones as he watches you stare up at him. Your eyes look softer, boyish, wider at this angle. His pink tongue darts over his equally pink lips, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

“Shh, sh, sh,” Shouta’s cock slips down your throat with a low grunt, the slippery walls clench around the fat head of his cock. Just as he imagined it, cutting off pretty whines and gasps, head bobbing back and forth— like you can’t tell whether it’s too much or too little. There’s a slight burn— the stretch of his thick, sticky cock nestled against your throat— but it feels good, heavy and throbbing in a way that makes your brain shut off so quickly you drool. It sticks to his shaft and slides down his balls, painting your chin in a syrupy-sweet layer of saliva, but you’re too far gone to wipe it away. Such a good boy.

He must’ve said it aloud, because there you are nodding, lazily bobbing your head as he grinds in and out of your mouth. There’s a loud, sticky sound coming from your throat, squelching and soaked, obscene in a way that makes you whimper around your heavy mouthful of cock. He’s quick to correct himself— you only ever seem to behave when you’re stuffed with his dick, and he can’t have you thinking your behavior is acceptable. With a grunt, deep and velvety, Aizawa pushes deeper into your mouth until you gag— tight throat convulsing and quivering around his shaft.

You slurp loudly, choking and gasping as you struggle to pull back. His balls hit your chin, heavy and sticky and so fucking good as tears stream down your face. You’re starting to get into it now, making a mess of yourself as you stick out your tongue to lick along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock, eyes focused on the rings of saliva holding you together. Shouta pulls out to let you breathe, his cock quickly liding upupup your throat and past your lips until all you can do is whine and lean forward, lips wet with spit as you chase after what you’ve been wanting for the past month.

“Stop fuckin’ moving. Let Daddy use your throat, wanna hear you cry on it,” The bulge of his fat cock shows in your throat, in and out, in and out, in and out.

You want to whine, to beat your fists against his thighs, and kick your feet— it’s all so much. He has you by the hair, big hand pulling and tugging, lifting you on and off his cock like a warm, tight fleshlight. You fail to bite back a growl, though it emits more as a cute, pathetic sound, glassy eyes focused on his cock being shoved down your hot, wet throat. It’s so easy to press your lips against the darkness of his pubes, to smear pre along your pouty lips and cheeks. His cock jumps in your mouth, thick and long and curved, leaking at the tip.

It’s hard to adjust to the stretch, sputtering and gagging with such cute, greedy sounds. You’re getting ahead of yourself, eager, tongue lapping at the achy underside of his dick, pressed against his balls. And, with a gasp, Shouta pulls out, huffs and unintelligible groans filling the air. The blushing head of his cock taps against your cheek. Once, twice, again and again. “C’mere.”

And yet, despite all that bark, your eyes barely make contact with the ones above you. Instead they trace the pulse of his shaft, how heavy his cock hangs between his legs, how it makes his long fingers almost smaller in comparison. The way pre dribbles from the tip, sticky and warm and oh, so inviting. It’s as if he can read your mind, knows how badly you miss the weight of his thick cock stretching your throat, “You can do better than that," and you almost can't believe it.

Better? Your eyes flicker to the saliva dripping from your chin, suddenly aware of the slick pre smeared across your pretty cheeks and the heavy pants leaving your lips. What gets better than this? You let him use your throat like a new fleshlight, cried on his cock and muffled the sounds in his pubes. Ignored the aching of your own cock just to focus on his own, absentmindedly bucking your hips into nothing, even if it made you look like a pathetic puppy. Fine— you can show him better. You can break him first.

You blink rapidly, tears clumped in your pretty eyelashes, lips parting to, indubitably, sass the older man. “What, need help gettin’ it up? Fuck you, can do it m—”

Prideful boy. Shouta will have to fix that.

“— I wasn’t asking.” You really fucked up now, eyes wide as you’re lifted up by your throat and manhandled into Shouta’s strong arms. He smells good, and just as strong, as your face is pressed into his chest and your tiny, tiny shorts are pushed past your thighs. The air is cold, it spreads goosebumps along your skin, and you’re sure Shouta can feel them along his palm as he grabs handfuls of your ass. He ignores your off guard ‘Hey! I wasn’t done!’, ignores the squirm of your waist, ignores your poor, weeping cock.

Being the smooth, calculated man that he is, you’d expect Aizawa to put a rhythm and pace to his spankings. But no, there’s nothing for you to latch onto but the bundles of his hair as he hands out sporadic, random, and hard smacks along each globe of your ass. There is no back and forth, no favoring one over the other— it’s just where he wants, when he wants. If he wants to watch your thighs convulse and jiggle beneath his heavy palm he will, and if he wants to smack your hands away from his wrists as you tug and tug— he will.

Shouta groans when you let out a particularly pathetic cry, biting your lip and whimpering into his warm skin. You can feel his big hands part your cheeks, squeezing the skin until it spills over each finger and your ass has turned tender and sensitive. He coos, feeling you squirm and wriggle against his hold, “S’it too much? Daddy’s poor baby.”

It shouldn’t sound so sweet coming from his lips, even when it’s condescending and rough, even when he’s cracking his palm down again and again despite your kicks and squeals.

But it does.

“Da—ddy. . !” your voice quivers, hips rocking to an uncoordinated tune. So little contact and yet it feels like so much, his hot palms against your warm skin. . . The tears rolling down your darling face. . . The way your cock throbs against your tummy, your mouth aches with emptiness, your hole twitches beneath the weight of his fingers. The thought makes you want to whine all over again, body squirming and trembling as he holds and kneads the flesh of your ass.

“Quiet. I should shove my fingers down your throat to shut you up,” Shouta murmurs, so unnecessarily mean, kissing the dampness of your forehead before his hand cracks down against your plush ass three, four, five more times. You try to keep up your resolve, pretty legs trembling and knuckles clenching— but it’s just so hard. Being a brat is easy— it’s fun— you’ll give up a few tears, cry and pout, get your way. Easy. So you won’t break and give him what he wants. He’ll have to work for it, get a taste of his own mean, mean medicine.

Delayed gratification.

Wet llips open to speak, something smug and almost smart, but it’s reduced to a wet moan. You feel it—fingers spreading apart the globes of your ass, and more cracking down between them, on your empty, pretty little hole. For a moment your brain slips out of your body, thoughts static and turned to mush, fuzzy and convulsing where you lay. You process the sound of hushing, the feeling of wetness, the sound of slick spit against your skin. . . Thick, merciless fingers rubbing and tapping and sliding against you.

“Oh, god,” You sob, eyes fluttering shut and eyebrows pinching the second more pressure builds and— oh, a finger slips inside. “Fingers— that’s, oh god..” Inching in slowly, rubbing against your velvety walls and so fucking slick you’re beginning to see stars. Whatever you had your mind set on earlier flies straight out the window, your brain short circuits as your sopping hole flutters around his fingers, sucking them in.

“Fuck, baby, look at you clench on Daddy’s fingers. Want Daddy to finger-fuck this cute little cunt silly?” If you could see his face you’re sure he’d be smiling— an eerie thing, eyes trained on his fingers getting sucked back into you. Such a needy boy. “C’mon, say it. Tell Daddy you want his big fingers in your sweet, greedy little pussy.”

You can’t help it, hole throbbing rhythmically along his long fingers, squelching and gushing with stickiness. The swell of your ass ripples as you wiggle your hips, rising and falling to grindgrindgrind. “Fuck me already, c’mon, old man.”

“That what your little ‘boyfriends’ do?” Your lip quivers— he hadn't even flinched at the sass— and instead used your own words against you. “Oh, baby. They didn’t give that little boycunt the attention he needed, hm? That why you throw so many tantrums?”

Your hand finds his wrist, fingers wrapping around thick and strong limp just enough to get his hand moving, trying to guide him deeper, faster, harder. He should reward bratty behavior, but the words spill from his mouth almost immediately, “That’s it, just needed something to fill you up, nice and full.”

It’s ironic— he says it just before pulling out his soaked fingers. And, at your nightstand, opens the drawer to retrieve lube. You watch him pause, eyes scanning the contents of the drawer until his lips quirk downward. Lollipop wrappers. An ungodly amount— you really went on a hunger strike because he ignored you? For six whole days?

“What am I gonna do with you.” He sighs, but grabs a sucker regardless, tearing open its pretty, pastel blue packaging to reveal its red, shiny hard candy. He pops the treat into his mouth, holds it on the right side with his teeth, and squirts a generous amount of lube over the globes of your ass. His hands slip and slide as he guides it around, watches it dribble down your thighs and relishes in the way your hole opens up for him, soaked and sticky.

Your eyebrows pinch, hips wiggling as he pulls the lollipop free from his mouth and directs it against your own, “Suck,” He murmurs, but it’s forced past your lips before you can process the demand. Here come more tears, burning your nose as you hiccup out a tiny, overwhelmed, “Daddy?”

“It’s okay, I’m here,” He coos, circling the pad of his thumb along the rim of your hole. Even as your feet instinctively kick, there’s no reaction from him, just a pleased hum. “Keep sucking, atta boy.”

His thumb feels like a lot, makes you squeal and shiver as he presses it inside, and something hot and wet accompanies it. That's good, the heat of his tongue licking and sucking at your throbbing rim, bubbly spit dribbling down his chin and caught in his stubble. One hand is focused on fucking your boyhole raw, till your brain goes numb and you’re incoherent. His palm presses into the small of your ass, tongue working hard until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and your mouth flies open in a silent scream. He takes the opportunity to snatch the lollipop back, keeps his tongue pressed against your walls until—

He trails the glossy sphere of the candy down to your sloppy little hole, nudging and prodding until he slowly works the lollipop inside. “You can take it,” He growls, eyes trained on your fucked-out face. He can feel it, the tightening of your balls, the way your hole aches and pulses with the treat inside you. “That’s it, sweet thing. Wanna make this pussy cum, give it t’me. Let Daddy have it..”

He murmurs, and suddenly, instead of the treat that he’s popping back into his mouth, there’s the head of his perfectly thick, so big, cock pressing against your slick, thoroughly fucked-out hole and—

Oh.

“Sweet.”

You sob into nothing, back arching and spongy walls clinging down on Shouta’s cock as it’s worked inch by inch into you and— you can’t fucking believe it. You fought for so long, put on a bratty attitude and stomped your feet. Why would you ever push Shouta and his cock away for so long? Your breaths are short. Tiny little gasps as his large hands grip your ankles, spreading your legs open to get a better view of the thick dick pumping you full. Your pretty little hole, sheen with spit and lube, exposed and on display for him and his cock. And, yeah, this is everything you’ve ever wanted and more. . . You want him to break you.

“You’re— fuck, you’re so gross, Daddy,” Shouta grits his teeth, “Ohh, havin’ your best friend’s son on your fat cock, fuckin’ my pussy so full. . !” You’re straight up babbling, cross-eyed as each thrust knocks coherent thoughts out your brain. A real, proper slut, desperately humping upupup to fuck yourself on his dick. With this position— knees to your ears and holes on display, you barely have the control to move— but it’s cute to watch you try anyway.

“Shut up and take it,” He rasps, voice deep and scratchy in a harsh whisper as his hips snap back and forth. “Don’t want mommy and daddy to hear their son calling someone else daddy, do you?”

“Daddy— Daddy, my pussy—“ You’re babbling, it’s all you can do since Shouta is all force with his thrusts; takes what he needs, feeds you his cock good and so, so deep. Over and over, you let out broken whines, desperate for it, looking down as best you can to watch your own cock bob and jump against your tummy, thighs sticky with spit and lube. You can hear the sound of your slutty, pathetic moans, the wet plaplaplap of skin, lube trailing and frothing between your bodies as Shouta fucks into you. You can’t stop twitching— your legs, your hole, your cock.

“This is Daddy’s pussy,” He corrects, angling his hips just right, the heat of his cock pressing against every special spot you’ve got. Every bundle of nerves, every silky, spongy wall you’ve got wrapped around him. “Just like that,” You’re gagging for it, pouty lips parting with open-mouthed pants as he continues to watch your hole tighten around his thick, veiny cock. He has to swallow down his own drool, reaching deeper into you, your body jerking back as he pounds, and pounds, and pounds. You may not be a good boy, but you’re a damn good slut.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh. . .” Your breath is caught in your throat, and if you could, you’d scream, your body tensing as your cock throbs and bounces, cum spraying across your bare chest — stickiness shooting out your spent cock until you’re twitching, handsfree and body set ablaze. Shouta shows no signs of stopping, instead keeping his cock inside you as he flips you around, eyes narrowed. He fucks you through it, watching more cum squirt from your cock, leaky hole milking him for all he’s got.

“Dumb sluts love cock, baby. S’that what you are?” His voice is a low purr, pressing your face into the mattress, watching your ass fall back onto his cock until he feels himself aching hard, hard enough to start cumming inside you.

“Yeah, mhmm,” You drool into your pillow, absentmindedly fucking yourself back onto him. You’re desperate to chase after it, the searing spiral of pressure growing in your stomach, tight hole bearing down on his cock. “Daddy’s slut, s’me!” For a minute you think you’ve passed out, everything going dark as you ride out his hard thrusts, offering tiny movements of your own, up and down to satiate the erratic spasming of your hole, to feel his balls slap against your thighs.

“Good sluts take Daddy’s cum,” Your eyes, so glassy and empty, is what gets him, groaning loud as he pumps a load inside you. “Take it, boy. Let Daddy knock you up.” It’s messy, and downright pornographic watching his cum leak out of you, just for him to fuck it back in with the head of his dick. Shouta’s cum starts to kiss your insides and spurt straight onto that small bundle of nerves— fuck, it’s so deep. His thrusts are erratic and sloppy, thick rope after thick rope frothing around his shaft as he fucks it deeper inside. You never want it to stop, not the groaning or moaning, not the filthy sounds, not the cum filling up your hole till you can’t move.

He ignores your needy, overstimulated whines when he pulls out completely, his spent cock hanging heavy between his thighs. Even when you’re limp and boneless, body trembling violently, you want more.

“Da— Da—ddy,” You sob, eyes squeezed shut as strong arms pull you up and into even stronger thighs. Sitting on his lap now, Shouta coos hums, basks in the sight of his pretty boy’s afterglow.

“Daddy’s here. I’m here, I got you.” He whispers into your shoulder, and that’s all you need to hear. The thought of his best friend melts away— you’re more than that. You’re not just his best friend’s son. . .

You’re Shouta’s boy.

Summer is coming to an end.

There’s a seasonal chill in the air and it’s getting dark in the early afternoon. The beach has switched its course, currents changing direction and fish disappearing from the shoreline. The weather is turning, branches are starting to grow bare and bloom in color, the wind picks up, and the clouds have yet to dissipate into the sky. . Shouta helps you pack, grumbles when you press chaste kisses against his skin the whole time— shuts down the stomps of your feet while you whine, “I don’t wanna leave.”

“Spring break,” Is all Shouta says, his mismatched eyes downcast in a way that highlights his long, pretty eyelashes. Then, voice barely audible, he whispers, “I don’t want you to, either.”

Your body visibly straightens, giddiness painting your boyish face as you smile wide and big. The older man almost regrets saying it, huffing with you lean impossible close to hug him tight. “Will you call me?”

“Whenever you want,” He says, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. You watch as he throws your large bag of lollipops into your carry-on backpack, but not before plucking a treat free from the others. “You know I will.”

And that’s all you need to hear.

#₊˚⊹♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 #mgonna be outta commission for 18-20 business weeks #kiddin. #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #shouta aizawa imagine #aizawa headcanons #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa imagine #aizawa smut #aizawa x reader #anime x male reader #x male reader smut #bnha x male reader #x male reader #x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #x sub male reader #aizawa x y/n #shouta x you #shouta x reader #mha x male reader #mha x trans reader #mha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x you #aizawa x you #aizawa x male reader

[tired-teacher-blog]

Over the years following his early retirement, Aizawa has developed a dad bod.

He is no longer the pale and lanky man you've fallen in love with– all these years ago, and his once prominent dark circles and tired demeanor are long gone and replaced with a more relaxed aura.

You love the little changes he's unknowingly flaunting: the soft tummy protruding under his shirt, the thickness of his strong arms and thighs, the healthy glow adorning his rounder cheeks, and most of all, that cute plumpy butt filling out his bottoms perfectly.

You can never help the heat pooling into the pit of your belly when seeing him dressed lightly, and you get consumed by an uncontrollabe desire to strip him off of whatever sleepwear highlighting his seductive frame at the moment.

That hungry look in your eyes does not go unnoticed as he knows you too well to miss it, and gladly grants your undeclared wish without a second thought.

With an amused smirk on his face, he kneels down between your legs and pushes in slowly while watching the way you breathlessly utter his name and run your hands over his plump chest, and it's a heavenly view that you cannot get tired of seeing, although you really want to feel him pressed against you as well.

You desperatly claw at his forearms demanding to have him closer, and encase him in your embrace when he finally is.

His thrusts quicken and his lips devour yours in a sloppy kiss, while your nails rake his broad shoulders and travel lower and lower until reaching his bum and clutching onto the luscious buttocks you so much adore, squeezing his fleshy globes to mimic the erratic pace of his hips.

He goes mad everytime you do that, singing your praises and grunting promises of making you lose your mind soon.

His words and relentless plunges are what drive you over the edge with a broken cry of how good he's making you feel, and he follows suit in a matter of seconds, stuffing you full of his milky seeds before collapsing onto your quivering body with a soft "I love you" whispered to your ear..

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

#aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota x you #aizawa shota smut #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa headcanons #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #aizawa shouta fluff #aizawa shouta imagine #aizawa imagine #aizawa fluff #aizawa shouta headcanons #shouta aizawa smut #shouta aizawa imagine #mha smut #bnha smut

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

♡︎𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚♡︎

Day 20 of Kinktober 2022

Summary: he's woken up with a delightful surprise.

Props to my beta reader for today @sasualblxd - thank you for your amazing help, ily!

348 words.

It's not the first time you've woken up before Shouta. It's also not the first time you've woken up horny and in need of his touch. But this is the first time you've acted on it.

He's joked before about you waking him up with a blowjob, but he's never pressured you for it, but that makes it all the more enticing.

You've been thinking on it for the past half hour while he sleeps peacefully beside you. He's consented, and you know for sure he would be delighted to wake up to this, so why not?

He's already half naked from a long night of fucking, but somehow you're still not satisfied, and you find yourself licking at his flaccid cock which you had slipped out of the confines of his boxer briefs.

Your hot, wet tongue trails up to his head and sucks there, and you pay no mind to the taste of him because thankfully, and contrary to popular belief, your husband does actually take pride in his hygiene.

Every shift of his body is monitored by your watchful eye as you wait for him to awaken, but even as his hips start to rock forward, his eyes still remain scruched shut and his body lax.

Slowly, you part from him, watching with a delighted smirk as his dick twitches, mourning the loss of your warmth, the head a desperate red.

Your pussy clenches around nothing as you manoeuvre on top of him, lowering yourself down and guiding yourself onto his waiting cock, and just like that, Shouta is woken by the intense warmth engulfing him whole and the weight on top of him.

An unhinged groan forces itself past his throat as he tilts his head back, hands instinctively shooting to caress the smooth, squishy skin of your hips. His rough fingers prod at your inner thighs, stroking along the wetness that rolls down to meet his pelvis, and he sighs contentedly at your excitement all while he thumbs your stretch marks to show them every bit of love they deserve.

"Good morning, baby~"

© 2022 not-your-fucking-kacchan

◃ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 ▹

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha #bnha fluff #bnha #bnha headcanons #aizawa x reader #bnha aizawa #mha aizawa #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x reader smut #aizawa smut #aizawa shouta #aizawa shota x you #shota smut #shouta aizawa imagine #shouta smut #bnha kinktober #notyourfuckingkacchan kinktober! #kinktober 2022 #kinktober

[certifiedjaeger]

Shouta knows that he loves you. He knows it in the way that he gets lightheaded whenever you look up at him from your book. He knows it in the way that his skin feels too hot whenever you hold onto his arm in the grocery store. He knows it in the way that he lets out a content sigh every time that he sees your clothes mixed together in the laundry. He knows it in the way that he smiles whenever your name pops up on his phone’s screen. And in the way that you grumble at him every time he wakes you in the morning to say his goodbyes.

Shouta knows that he loves you in the way that he feels his heart jump in his chest whenever his students are nosey and ask about you. He knows it in the way that your smile after three glasses of wine makes him feel like the drunk one. He knows it in the way that your made-up songs directed toward your cat are sometimes the best part of his day. He knows it in the way that you both know how the other takes their coffee. He knows it in the way that his name rolling off the tip of your tongue is the sweetest sound that he’s ever heard. And in the way that his hand instinctively reaches out for yours in the middle of the night.

Shouta knows that he loves you in the way that something always feels a bit off whenever you aren’t around. He knows it in the way that he cherishes how you hold him after he gets in from a long day of patrolling, and how he laughs when you refuse to let go of him after an even longer mission. He knows that he loves you in the way that he can’t imagine a life without you. He knows it in the way that he simply wishes to be by your side always.

Shouta knows that he loves you. He just hopes to god that you know it, too.

#shouta aizawa fluff #aizawa fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #shouta aizawa imagine #aizawa imagine #mha imagines #bnha imagines #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia fluff #my hero academia imagines #shota aizawa fluff #shota aizawa imagine #shota aizawa x reader #my writing

[zairene]

this wasn’t the first time you had to pick up shouta after a long night out. every morning afterwards he would claim that it was just one drink after another, then he just couldn’t hold himself back after that. he would also spend that morning apologizing for the fact that you had to take care of him because he decided to not take care of himself. that made him feel guilty. he felt that he owes you this.

yet he didn’t owe you anything. you understood why he would do it and you were never mad at him. you always encouraged him to go out with his friends and take a break from his heroic duties for once. sure, it was a hassle getting him into clothes that didn’t reek of alcohol, but at the end of the night, he would always end up in your arms and satisfied.

“you’re lucky i love you, shou.”

“mhmm. love you too.”

TAGLIST :: @kisamekiss @kisminarii @planetlunaa @mypimpademia @megurulvr

TAGLIST FORM

#[♩] irene’s works. #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #mha x black reader #my hero academia x black reader #mha imagines #mha drabbles #bnha x reader #bnha aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x black fem reader #shouta aizawa imagine #shouta aizawa x black reader #shouta aizawa x black fem reader

[nykie-love-anime]

Always Pet A Cat

“Hey ba…” you got cut of with Shota slamming the door shut. Mumbling to himself as he walked into the common area and fell face first into the couch.

“Hey what’s the matter baby?” You questioned your tired husband and teacher of the next generation of heroes. Aizawa just stayed quiet not wanting to take his emotions out on you.

“Come on love tell me what happened.” You tried again this time he sat up and looked at you with eyes so tired and tears starting to appear.

As soon as you saw that look you quickly sat on the couch and pulled him into a hug. Whispering that everything will be okay, that there is no need to worry. Aizawa let the first tear roll down causing your heart to break.

“What’s wrong baby. Please you can tell me anything.” You said quietly into his ear. He stayed silent only sniffling for a few minutes before muttering about class 1 A.

You had your fair share of dealing with them and all the shenanigans they get up to, but as you are highly pregnant - almost nine months - you decided to go on maternity leave. Not wanting to put any more stress on your body or the baby.

“What crap did they get up to now?” you questioned laying down Shota on your outstretched legs so you could play with his hair.

“First they decided to bubble wrap my whole desk and once that was off I saw they wrapped everything else in gift wrapping paper and if that was not bad they wrapped everything individually so I had to spend two hours unwrapping everything.” Aizawa said starting to get mad at the thought again.

“Then during lunch with Hizashi I broke my favourite mug that you got me of our wedding day.” You sighed as your husband continued. “Then I had to spend an hour detention with my class because of the shit they pulled.”

“I can always get a new one don’t worry hun.” You said smiling down at the man that you are going to spend the rest of your life with.

You rubbed his forehead and he nodded. “Because they are a bunch of little shits the Baku squad as you like to refer them as got so loud I got a headache. Thankfully Mic got there for the last hour so I could return here.”

Aizawa said turning on his side to rub your belly whispering to your unborn child to never be like his class, to be a good child and not a problem child. Causing you to let out a giggle.

“And to top it all off, when I got to the store to get the ingredients for tonight’s dinner I saw a kitten searching for their mother and it was so sad to see the little bundle all alone calling to its mother. But thank goodness the mother arrived before I could take it home.” He said with a smile.

“Well, that is good. At least it got back to its mom.” You said at suddenly smiling at your happy man. “Why don’t you go to the kitchen I have a small surprise waiting there for you.” You said to your loving husband.

As he got up you couldn’t help but smile as you struggled a bit to get up you really could not wait for a mini you or mini Shota running around. You and Sho wanted it to be a surprise for when you are giving birth but already had names for either gender.

As you are walking to the kitchen you heard a small meow and chuckled at your cat loving husband. Meaning he got his little gift you got this afternoon after Hizashi called.  

“It’s okay to be mad baby, when you feel like you are about to explode pet the kitten. When you’re sad rubs its little head and you will feel better.” You said smiling at your husband.

“Even when you’re happy just pet this little bundle of joy.” You said pointing at the British Shorthair kitten. “Always just pet the kitten and you will be happier.”

As you finished talking Shota pulled you into a hug as tightly as he can without squeezing your stomach to much. Whispering how much he loves you and how much he is going to spoil you tonight.

“Aww, she is so cute.” Whispered Aizawa as to not wake the sleeping kitten after spotting her pink collar on the kitchen table.

“Yeah, she is adorable.” You mumbled and smiled at the adorable look on your husband's face. “Now we just have to name her and not let the rest of your problem children or even Shinsou steal her.”

Shota just chuckled and looked at the sleeping kitty in his arms. “What about Lexa?” Hizashi questioned as he walked into the kitchen smiling at his friends after just getting back from detention.

“No. It has to be something cute.” Aizawa said looking at his best friend. All of you making serious thinking faces.

“Luna!” you and Mic exclaimed at the same time causing the loud blond to smile at you. “Yes. Little Luna. That will work.” Aizawa said looking at you and Mic. “Welcome to the family Luna.” Shota said with a grin on his face.

“There will be a lot of us but your are our little kitten. Just a fair warning the rest of them are super load.” Mumbled your husband at the small grey and white kitty causing you to smile.

“Thank you Y/N. She is wonderful.” Aizawa said giving you a small kiss going back to talking to little Luna.

Based on this image

Masterlist

#Eraserhead Needs a Raise #shouta aizawa #female reader #bnha x reader #shouta aizawa imagine #y/n x shouta #y/n #mha #y/n imagines #shota aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #reader x shouta aizawa #my hero academia #bnha #fem!reader #pregnant!reader #female!reader #fluff #aizawa shouta needs a hug #shouta aizawa is be a good dad #present mic #pregnant #y/n is pregnant #Aizawa Shouta Needs a Vacation #Aizawa Shouta Needs a Raise

[star-light-imagines]

ooOo may I request a Shota Aizawa x reader please? :p I was thinkin of the reader being apart of the League of Villains and they could have a quirk that allows them to seduce someone and have them under their little love spell for a short period of time. Could you whip up a story that has the reader seduce Aizawa but they decide to spare his life? (⌒▽⌒) tysm for reading!! You’re writing is awesome btw ;>

ੈ♡˳ Thank you for the request! I loved creating this, I hope you like it!

ੈ♡˳ Here's what I thought of for the Love Spell Quirk - The reader has the ability to fully seduce and control anyone by calling out to them or touching them. However, the reader must be within voice reach to ‘siren call’ them over. Touching makes the love spell affect stronger than just your voice, especially when in contact with bare skin.

Under Your Spell.

ᰔᩚ Includes- shota aizawa x reader. angst. comfort. seduction. kissing. makeout scene. slow burn (kind of). bonus content.

ᰔᩚ Warnings- gn! reader! Implied mature content! season 5 spoilers! kissing. heated makeout. hickey's. cursing. Implied emotional and physical childhood trauma.

ᰔᩚ Word Count- 7,197

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The sun slowly dips below the horizon, the sky turning a deep red and orange. The last rays of light disappear, leaving behind a darkening sky. A light wind caressed your skin as you sat on the edge of the abandoned rooftop, lost in your thoughts as you stared up at the sky above you. The wind picked up, blowing your hair ever so softly around your face. Your e/c eyes glanced downward as you looked out over the city skyline, the sun shining down on the people you saw below. 

You took a deep breath as you watched them from above, your eyebrows furrowed as you watched people with normal lives carry on around you. You knew it was impossible , but you couldn’t help the sense of longing for the normal life you never truly experienced. A family with unconditional love and support, who would smile happily and eat dinner together. Friends who would accept you as you were even with the quirk you possessed, as much as you longed for a place to truly belong in the light, you knew the darkness was the only one that truly welcomed you.  

Your e/c eyes closed as you lifted your face towards the sky, letting the breeze wash over you. In that moment, you let the memories that plagued your mind disappear with the wind.The felt as if it disappeared from your chest as you let out a deep sigh. The fiery glow of the sky had darkened as the stars began to twinkle and the moon casted a soft glow. 

SLAM!

The rooftop you had been occupying in silence was suddenly disturbed as the door obnoxiously slammed open. You glanced in the direction of the sound, Shigaraki stood there with his face twisted up in anger, deep red eyes leering at you. 

He paced towards you quickly, reaching a hand out to grasp your arm causing your body to tense. Four fingers gripped tightly onto your wrist and pulled you from the rooftop ledge. 

“What are you doing out here?!” He hissed. 

“Enjoying the sunset, did you want to join?” You offered, trying your best to calm the nerves that were going haywire under your skin. 

“Y/N! I already told you, you can’t be seen out in public!” 

“It’s not that big of a deal, If someone sees me..I can just use my quirk.” 

“That’s not the point. I'm the leader, you are supposed to listen to me!” He tilted his head slightly as his eyes darkened. “Maybe I should give you some motivation.” 

He raised the wrist he still had in his death grip, slowly moving the finger he was keeping away from you closer. Your eyebrows furrowed as he continued with his attempt at threatening you, the hairs on your arm stood on end at the fact his touch was leering closer. Bright e/c eyes met deep crimson red as the two of you continued the stare at each other, testing the boundaries of control. 

“Well, well… What’s going on up here?” A deep voice questioned suddenly. 

Shigaraki jerked his head in the direction of the voice while you peeked from the side of his figure, barely taking in the sight of the long trench coat and stapled patchwork skin. The hammering anxiety you felt flood your body moments ago, slipped away at the realization that Dabi had stepped onto the roof. 

Tsk! 

Shigaraki’s jaw clenched as he narrowed his eyes in frustration at the unwanted presence. He tossed your wrist out of his grip as he addressed him. “A lesson in what happens when you disobey orders.” 

“I don’t think you need another member in the group that’s missing an arm.” Dabi mocked.

“I think it’s worth the risk. Compress and y/n can have matching mechanical arms, how does that sound y/n?” 

Dabi’s flared turquoise eyes met your e/c eyes, his eyebrows knitted before he quickly relaxed his features and focused his attention back on their ‘leader’. He sighed as he lifted his shoulders upward, a sly smile making its way onto his lips. 

“Garaki needs y/n & I for a mission tonight.” 

“Why wasn’t I told about this?! Both of you stand out too much to be leaving the hideout right now!” 

“Take it up with him ‘leader’. All I know is we are supposed to gather intel on the Meta Liberation Army.”

Shigaraki’s jaw clenched as he gnashed his teeth together, frustration grew quickly into anger as his hand reached up to scratch at his neck rapidly. He mumbled under his breath, deep in thought as Dabi strode closer with lazy steps. 

“Fine! Whatever! Y/N, next time you don’t follow orders you will be getting a new accessory in place of an arm.” He ranted, before turning his eyes flashed towards Dabi once more. “You two don’t lead anyone back here! Kill anyone who tries to follow, UNDERSTAND?!” 

“Did you forget how long we’ve been doing this?” Dabi taunted. 

The two locked eyes as you watched them fight over dominance in silence, a smirk still etched on the patchwork lips. Shigaraki let out a deep sigh before he shook his head in defeat, turning and walking away. 

“I should have never let you two in the League! Just some cocky assholes, but I guess that makes sense seeing as Dabi recruited you.” He mumbled as we walked through the door. 

Dabi looked down at you, his smirk falling instantly as he lifted an eyebrow and he studied your facial expressions. 

“I thought I told you to not annoy Mr. Crusty Dusty right now, he’s going off on a power hunger streak since the Overhaul shit.”  

“I don’t like being grounded in a dark room all day, I just wanted to watch the sunset.” You explained, threading a hand through your hair.

“Do we really have a mission, or were you just saying that to save me?”

“Heh!” He scoffed, his turquoise eyes rolled playfully. 

“As if i would save your ass, if you really wanted to you could have had the hand freak on the floor sobbing the moment he grabbed you.” 

“That is true!” You giggled, the brightness returning to your e/c eyes. “Maybe I just wanted you to save me then.” 

“Haha, save your flirting for the target’s y/n. You’ll have better luck with them.” He smirked as he rolled his shoulders and continued. 

“We are splitting up for this one. Go to the location on the note, put some member’s under that little love spell of yours and gather intel.” 

“Yes, yes! I got it, I'm just excited to leave this place after weeks!” You said bubbly 

Dabi sighed, “Y/N, don’t do anything stupid.” 

“Awe! You’re being so mean, I never do anything stupid.. You must know by now that everything I do has a reason.” You said playfully as your e/c eyes darkened. 

“Whatever. It’s time to get out of here.” 

The darkness of the sky had slowly snuffed out the previously scattered vibrant hues that illuminated the city. The corner of your mouth quirked up as a sly smile found its way onto your lips, excitement glowed in your e/c eyes as you swiftly ran towards the rooftop edge. As your feet jumped from the edge, you playful whipped around in the air to turn towards the blue flame villain. You quickly sent a playful kiss at him before turning your body back around, your feet landing gracefully on the neighboring rooftop. 

‘Yes, I belong in the dark more than I ever did in the light.’

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You watched the Meta Liberation Army members walk in and out of the headquarters building, no one had noticed your presence from the tree branch you had stationed yourself on. A member had wandered off from his group of friends as he made his way closer to the forest, a cigarette nuzzled between his fingers. 

‘Perfect.’

The man had lit the cigarette, breathing in slowly with hunched shoulders before releasing the smoke with a tired sigh. Your eyes began to glow with a magenta hue as you watched your prey from afar, you felt your arms tingle from the buzz of your quirk activating. The anticipation made your thoughts race, not being able to use your quirk in the past few weeks had made you needier than you expected. You closed your eyes and focused, letting out a gentle breath as you began your siren call. 

“Awe, don’t leave me now.~” Your honeyed voice sang out. 

The man’s body tensed as he instantly stopped moving, his shoulders stiffened as you watched his eyes overcome with fear that he couldn’t control his actions. The cigarette fell from his lips, the sudden stop in movements, falling to the wet grass instantly killing the burning fire it held. 

You swiftly jumped down from the tree branch you were perched on, leaves danced around you with a gentle move of the wind as your feet gracefully landed on the ground. A pink blush dusted your cheeks as your skin burned with heat, a flushed blush crept towards your neck and down your chest as a visual side effect of your quirk. 

“Come play with me.~” You giggled out, your head tilting to the side as you extended a hand. 

He turned towards you, and once his eyes met yours they glazed over with the lovesick expression you had gotten all too sick of seeing. His face turned reddened as a blush instantly burned his cheeks, his tense muscles relaxing as he let go of all mental ability he had been fighting you off with. His long legs led him over to you quickly, eagerly taking your hand in his and you smiled slyly up at him. 

You led him deeper into the woods, your magenta glowing eyes surveying the area as you walked. Once you found a suitable spot for your needs, you released his hand from yours and turned towards him once more, giving him a once over to examine his looks. He wasn’t bad looking, the man was tall and mildly handsome with his dark brown hair and brown eyes. The man’s expression was glazed over with almost a look of hearts in his eyes as he awaited your next orders silently. 

“Tell me your name.~” 

“Kaito Yamada.” He answered immediately, a lopsided smile plastering itself onto his face as he continued to look at you. 

“ Hmm, Kaito-chan I want you to kneel for me.~” You called out playfully, a hand gently grazing across his bare shoulder as his skin instantly burned from your touch. 

His knees fell to the ground in front of you with a loud thud, the leaves crunching under him as he landed. You couldn’t help the smirk that twisted its way onto your lips, your eyes gleamed with amusement at how easy he was controlled by your love spell. You inched closer to his face, and noticed his face turning crimson as you sly whispered into his ear. 

“You're going to be a good boy and tell me everything I want to know.~” 

Kaito nodded his head eagerly at you and you gave him a sly smile of approval before your finger raked through his hair and pulled his head back slightly. Your magenta glowing eyes flared as you drew in a long breath, your hands glowed subtly as your other hand drifted towards his arm, playfully running your fingers up his bare arm before placing your hand on his chest. 

“What does the Meta Liberation Army want with the League of villains?” 

“The grand commander wants the League gone. They have become too well known and he wants to retake the spotlight the League of Villains has stolen.”

The smile on your lips grew at his words, a slight glint in your eyes appeared as you playfully fluttered your lashes at him. Your own flushed skin started to burn into a deep crimson as you focused more of your quirk into your hands. 

“Tell me more. ~” You urged, placing both your hands firmly on his shoulders.

“I’ll tell you anything and everything beautiful.” Kaito gushed with a lovesick voice. 

He shivered as you swiftly pushed him down to where his back hit the grass below, you straddled his hips as your magenta glowing eyes burned into his brown ones. A giggle escaped your lips as you listened to the man ramble on about the information about Re-Destro’s plans. 

‘So he wants to start a war out of petty jealousy. How childish.’ 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Katio’s body slumped over on the grass next to his forgotten pack of cigarettes, unconscious. You had carefully leared him back to where you found him, before commanding his mind to forget you and fall asleep. Had Dabi been with you, he would have just burned his body and disposed of it once you were done retrieving the intel. Even though you were all too capable of killing someone yourself, you preferred to not have to deal with the mess if you didn’t need to. 

Your e/c eyes peered over your shoulder at the faint sound of leaves rustling in the distance, adrenaline still pumped through your body as your veins burned with heat. The scarlet blush still crept along your skin, your warm hands turning a flushed shade from the usage of your quirk. You took in a sharp breath as you tried to slow your quickening heartbeat and the pounding drumming in your ears. 

The faint sound of rustling leaves made your eyes dart through the trees, your thoughts raced as you prepared yourself for someone to appear. Minutes passed as you waited, the anticipation of an attack dwindling down as you walked further into the wooded area to start the trek back to the hideout location. The outline of a shadowy figure perched on a branch caught your eye as you glanced towards the night sky, the hairs on your arms immediately rose from the awareness of their presence. Your eyes glanced back towards the glistening wet grass in the moonlight, you stilled your breathing as you focused your hearing on the unknown person watching you. 

When a moment passed and no action had been taken from the figure in the tree line, you had swiftly started walking forward once more. You maintained awareness of the person’s  presence as they continued to track you, while you acted as if you hadn’t caught a glimpse of them a moment before. They were determined to keep following you through the dense wooded area and kept your pace as you tried to lose them with trick turns, your eyes had landed on a clearing up ahead filled with wildflowers. Your e/c eyes sparkled as you quickly changed your direction and ran towards the field of flowers. 

Branches cracked loudly from above as the figure chased you, the person finally realizing that you had noticed their presence. Just as your feet touched the clearing, a gray scarf launched itself towards you, your body acted on reflex and barely missed being trapped in the fabric. The scarf rebounded towards its owner who stayed hidden in the tree line, your e/c eyes narrowed as the magenta hue started to glow once more. 

“I don’t like playing cat and mouse, stop hiding will you. ~” Your honeyed voice directed, but your eyes widened at the lack of movement. 

Your eyes had lost their magenta glow and your skin was no longer buzzing from the activation of your quirk. You bit your lip in thought before leaping gracefully, leaping backwards from the scarf that shot out at you, strategically moving far out of the capture weapon’s range before landing skillfully on your feet. 

Before entering the clearing you were under the impression that the figure following you was a member of the Meta Liberation Army, but the capture scarf and the loss of your quirk made it clear that the figure was someone else. Dabi had told you about his encounter with the Eraserhead hero before, and how his quirk had worked with the vague knowledge he had on it. Your mind raced as you tried to remember every bit of information you could on the pro hero, swiftly managing to dodge his scarf while moving around the field as you did. 

‘Why is Eraserhead here? It doesn’t make sense unless he knew I was going to be here or was also gathering intel on the Liberation Army.’ 

‘How long has he been watching me?’

‘That doesn’t matter right now , If i can’t shake him I’m going to have to stop this little game before I get caught.’

Eraserhead jumped down from his perch on the tree, landing harshly on the flowers beneath him. His black hair flowed off his shoulders as googles covered the barely noticeable glowing red eyes beneath. You both studied each other's movements as you gave him a once-over, considering you couldn't see most of his face due to the scarf and goggles, his physical build wasn’t too bad, actually it was great. 

He lunged towards you as the scarf flexed and shot through the air in your direction, you narrowly dodged as you continued to flip and elegantly move along the clearing. All the years you had taken in dance had come in handy for combat fighting as it gave you an advantage of speed and agility. You managed to get behind him but before you could stab with the knife you had borrowed from Toga, he had pivoted and quickly swung his leg at you. 

The kick hit your side and pushed you off balance as he grabbed the wrist holding the knife, however his movements left an opening for you to take advantage of. Your other hand reached for his goggles, ripping them off and throwing them far from the both of you, before swiping your free leg to hit his knees. The kick caused him to fall to the ground while releasing your arm in the process, the knife falling a few feet away as he landed on in the field of flowers. Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths from the sudden exercise session, you glanced down at the man before grabbing the scarf and binding it around his hands. 

“I usually like being the one tied up, but i’ll try it on you this once.”  You teased. 

He didn’t make a sound at your mocking as you gripped his shoulders and started to place him in a sitting position, you started to feel the buzzing sensation run over your skin once more. The magenta glow had returned to your eyes when you had pushed him to the ground, but due to the adrenaline you had just now started to notice your quirk reactivating. 

A smirk tugged at your lips. “I’ve caught the mouse, now what should I do with it? ~”

He grunted out in frustration, desperately trying to fight the effect your quirk had on him. Eraserhead fought against his own binding scarf as he shifted his arms around trying to get free. You watched his struggling figure from behind and couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. 

“I’ll do you a favor since you’ve been such a treat tonight. The only thing is you can’t use your quirk against me anymore.~” 

His shoulders tensed at your command, as you peered around to see his uncovered face. His raven black hair framed his face and hung just a bit below his shoulders, his black eyes were glaring at you with raging anger. You stood back up as you jutted out your hip, and placed a hand to rest on it as you let out a scoff. 

“Since you took away the ability to use my quirk, it’s only fair that I take away yours too.”

A vein popped out of his neck as he clenched his teeth at your words, still refusing to acknowledge you with a verbal response. Now that you were able to see him better he was extremely handsome and you couldn’t help but blush slightly as you looked away from his eyes. 

'The last person who was able to fight against my love spell this hard was years ago.’ 

You quickly regained your composure as you pushed the blush away, your magenta glowing e/c eyes looked back towards the man grumpily sitting in the grass surrounded by wildflowers. 

“Tell me your name handsome.~” Your voice sang out seductively as you leaned down to be eye level with him. 

His expression hardened as his body tensed reluctantly, he gnashed his teeth while the tips of his ears ever so slightly reddened. You giggled at the sight of him fighting against your quirk so listlessly which caused him to glance up at you while his brows drew together in confusion. You put your knees on the ground before him as your hand gently reached for his face, he flinched as you neared him trying to move his body away from your touch.

You sadly closed your eyes at the rejection before quickly reopening them, your fingers softly grazed his cheek before placing your full palm on his face. Your skin was burning from the contact against his, pink dusted your cheeks as a flush crept up your face. 

“Please tell me your name.~” 

“S-Shota Aizawa.” His rich raspy voice grunted out, his breathing became huskier. 

“Why were you following me Shota?~” You questioned while running your hand through his thick locks of hair. 

Aizawa bit his lip hard as the blush on his face deepend the more attention you gave him. His expression hardened as he continued to fight the effects you were having on him and he flashed his rageful black eyes towards you magenta hued e/c eyes. 

“It’s been a long time since someone was able to fight off my quirk as well as you are! I’m sorry but that just means I have to take things further.~” You apologized quickly before straddling his hips. 

He stiffened underneath you as you inched forward, your hands found his shoulders to keep you balanced as you moved your lips to the side of his face. You bit down on his earlobe teasingly, and his body jolted as he let a gasp escape him. The blush on his face had darkened and the flushed skin crept down towards his neck and ears. You leaned back to look him in the eyes, his pupils had become slightly hazed at your actions and you winked at him playfully. 

“I received Intel that members of the League of Villains were moving around the city. I trailed you all the way from the suburban area you passed through to get here. My plan was to keep following you until you led me to the rest of the LOV.” He sighed deeply as he rambled out the information. 

“Oh my! You went through all that trouble to follow me just to get caught…So unlucky.~” You teased while whispering into his ear. 

He grunted in response while his eyes watched your every move almost in anticipation of what you would do next. Compared to other people under your quirk, he still had good control of his mind and body which made your eyebrows scrunch together. You were already pushing your limits and if you were going to get more information out of the hero and get rid of him, you would have to exert yourself even more. 

“Who gave you the intel that I would be here?~” You asked sweetly, moving your lips ever so slightly towards his cheek as you placed gentle soft kisses down his jaw. 

“I-I can’t tell you that.” Aizawa pleaded, his eyes closed as he leaned further into your kisses. 

“How about you tell me what you know about me then?~” You added, leaning away from his face as you batted your lashes. 

He moved towards you as you leaned away, his breathing had become more strained and rapid. His skin was hot to the touch as he was not only trying to fight the effects of your seduction quirk controlling his mind, but also fighting the physical effects as well. 

“Y/N L/N, runaway teen from nine years ago. Your parents had assumed after a couple of months you had actually been kidnapped, and then after four years went by and there had still been no news of you, they eventually assumed you were dead.” He sighed while explaining, before continuing on. 

“It’s theorized you stayed under the radar, by using your quirk to seduce people and make them forget about you afterwards. The most you have done in the past nine years was steal money, food and a place to live from people, no murders or direct violence have been tied to you until recently. For some reason, you joined the League Of Villains instantly becoming one of the most notorious villains in the group. You're known for seducing your victims before torturing them and letting Dabi kill them.”  

You gave out a bitter laugh after he finished reciting the information he memorized from your folder. You pulled away from his body as his eyes darted to your figure retreating from him. A sad smile formed on your lips as your eyes glanced towards the night sky. His brows drew together as he took in your expression, he knew there was more to your story but there was no way he would find out about it unless it was from you. 

“I know you don’t want to be a villain.” Aizawa asserted. 

The magenta glow dwindled from your e/c eyes as you scoffed at the statement, you jerked your head towards him. The forced smile didn’t reach your eyes as you made eye contact with Shota, your eyebrows were knitted as you tried to force the memories plaguing your mind away into the little box you had pushed them in all those years ago. 

“I didn’t give you permission to talk again, now did I?” You scolded, not realizing that you had stopped using your quirk out while you focused on your past. 

“You don’t know what I want! Don’t act like I'm a lost kitten you can save.” You ranted angrily, your hand had reached out to his face as you raised his chin towards you. 

“You look lost to me. You definitely don’t look happy to use your quirk on me, or the guy from earlier. ” Aizawa stated softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Shut up!” You shouted as you released his chin quickly, and moved your legs so you could stop straddling the pro hero thighs. 

Aizawa’s hands moved towards you swiftly, before pushing you backwards towards the grass. He had gotten out of his own restraints long ago when he was still struggling against your quirk, he knew how to use his scarf the best and even if he was tied up with his own capture tool he had known how to escape it. Aizawa had pretended to remain constrained while he recited the intel you desired, planning what his next moves should be. 

Your eyes widened as your head hit the ground, wildflowers catching the corners of your eyes from your surroundings. His glowing red eyes beamed down at you, black hair lifting effortlessly from his shoulder. His hands were on each side of your head, his firm thighs straddling your hips effectively trapping you in place. 

“Shouldn’t have stopped using your quirk kitten! A real villain would have known not to get too comfortable.” Shota smirked triumphantly as he took control over the situation. 

You rolled your e/c eyes at him with annoyance.  “Really? Kitten? Can’t think of your own ideas?” 

“I couldn’t help myself, Kitten suits you too well.” He teased as he leaned closer, whispering softly into your ear. 

He noticed the deep scarlet blush that burned your cheeks and the way your lashes fluttered at his attempt at teasing you the same way you had teased him. His eyes trailed your face, burning every facial feature into his memory as he got lost in your eyes. 

“I’m a villain.” You whispered, out softly almost sadly. 

“You aren’t, not really. Not yet, if you stop now-” 

“I can’t!” You warned urgently. 

“Why can’t you?! What the fuck happened?!” He shouted. 

He slammed his hands on the ground by your head in anger, his glowing red eyes flared as his jaw clenched. He wanted to understand why after all these years, a runaway who was only using their quirk to live without being noticed by society had suddenly come out of the shadows and was intent on becoming a full blown villain. 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Your eyes glistened as you blinked back tears that were threatening to fall, after all these years you had never talked about your past. You never had someone ask and willingly listen to why you moved every six months to a new apartment paid for with the stolen money you would seduce out of strangers, or why you had left home at the age of sixteen content with living in the shadows rather than the wealthy home you left behind. 

Dabi was the first one who acted like a true friend towards you. You had found him one night four years ago, injured and hungry in an alleyway close to your home. You hadn’t thought twice about the situation before you brought him into your home, and took care of him until he could get back on his feet. 

Since then the patchwork villain would stop by often to check in, at first he would bring food as a way to not feel like he had to owe you anymore. Then he came over just to be in each other’s presence since you both knew how lonely it felt to be on the outside of society. However, the two of you never shared any personal backstories, he just makes sure to look out for you the same way you do for him, no questions asked.

Shota wanted to know you, really know you. He wanted to figure out who you were and it scared you and made your heart flutter slightly at the same time. You let out a harsh breath as a tear slipped out from your eye, Aizawa’s hand quickly reached over while he softly brushed the tear away with his thumb. 

“My parents had a quirk marriage with the hopes of having a child with a love spell quirk. They didn’t want me, they just wanted to use me for their business deals for their company and to dig up dirt on their enemies. I wasn’t anything but a tool for them.-” You paused, before continuing. 

“Growing up, the kids in school would be overly nice to be because or avoid me because of my quirk and my family. They were afraid I would put them under my spell and control them into loving me. Every kind gesture I ever received was out of fear that my family and I would somehow hurt them. But this isn’t what you really want to know right?- 

You want to know why I ran away and why I’m suddenly back in the limelight. Well when I was sixteen I overheard my parents agreeing to sell me, more specifically my body to a rival company CEO for a couple of months. I wasn’t shocked but I didn’t want to be forced into giving my body to a stranger just because of my parents plans, so I left. I met Dabi a few years ago and we have been looking out for each other, he came to me saying he needed help.” 

“I’m helping him, and when he doesn’t need me anymore I’ll fade back into the shadows.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you gave him the brief reasoning for your actions gliding over the more traumatic experiences throughout your childhood. The feeling of a warm hand glided across your cheek causing you to open your e/c eyes to meet the once glowing red, now black eyes above you. 

“Did he threaten you?” He questioned with narrowed eyes. 

“No, but why would you even care if he did.” You challegend back. 

A playful smirk touched his lips as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’re interesting.” 

“Interesting?” You repeated. 

“Very, not many people can keep my attention for this long.” 

There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you, your eyes slowly glanced towards his lips before slowly looking back towards his eyes while he trailed your glances and movements. Each of you waited for the other to make the first move, he leaned in closer and your heart pounded like a drum in your chest, fast and hot in anticipation of something — anything.

He brushed his lips softly against yours, in a passionate kiss that left you breathless. His kiss was gentle and yet passionate, sending a thrill through your body. You clung to him, returning his kiss with equal ardor. Your mouths explored each other hungrily, as you forgot everything else but the feel of his lips on yours. He finally broke the kiss, and you stared at him dazedly, your heart pounding in your chest.

His hands traveled to your neck, gently grazing his fingers over the exposed skin. Your body trembled from the contact of his hands and your breath quickened as he kissed his way from your jawline down to your collarbone, sucking harshly on the skin there. 

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, never wanting this moment to end. His kisses were a mixture of sweet and passionate, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. As he moved to continuing kissing your lips, you let out a soft moan of satisfaction.

His hands traveled to the back of your neck, pulling you towards him as he deepened the kiss. You buried your hands in his hair and his tongue danced with yours as he explored every inch of your mouth. You felt yourself giving into him, surrendering to the pleasure that his touch brought. 

Slowly, he pulled away, looking into your eyes with a hunger that made your heart race. Your lower lip quivered as you desperately wanted to pull him back in for a kiss, his body jolted from excitement as you flipped your position to where his back was on the ground and you were now straddling him. 

 His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as he watched you above him, your face descending down towards his neck with a playful glint in your e/c eyes. Aizawa’s jaw went slack upon feeling your fiery kisses leading down his neck until you found a spot that made him unexpectedly moan. You stop instantly, focusing on roughly kissing and sucking on that spot to leave a mark. 

“Now we have a matching set.” You teased breathlessly into his ear. 

His chest rumbled beneath you as he chuckled deeply, his expression soft as he glanced towards you. Your body tensed for a moment and he instantly caught on to the sudden change even though you quickly tried to hide it. 

“What’s wrong?” He questioned softly running his fingers through your hair. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Is it not already obvious? I'm under your spell.” He teased with a smirk.

“I'm being serious! I used my quirk on you earlier. Everything you are feeling, it might just be a left over effect from my love spell. This could all not be real, not what you really want.” You doubted, your brows knitted together as you spoke. 

“Your quirk didn’t have too much of an effect on me, I was able to fight it off. Besides, when I first saw you I wasn’t under your quirk and I had the same thoughts about then that I do now.” 

A bright smile formed on your lips as he reassured you, even if the back of your mind still doubted the authenticity of this moment. However, you heard the crackling of leaves and twigs far in the distance that distracted you from sharing in the happiness of the moment. 

Shota had opened his mouth to speak but you covered his mouth with your hand. Straining your ears, you continued to listen to the far off footsteps before you heard a deep voice call out.

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Dabi’s voice registered in your head and your eyes widened in shock. 

Your e/c eyes darted to Aizawa as you held a finger up to your lips and raced to stand up, pulling him with you. You adjusted your clothing quickly and tried to smooth out your tousled hair, while he moved to fix himself as well. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered quietly as he raised a brow at you questioningly. 

The magenta hue returned to your eyes as you kissed him once more, savoring every second you could before quickly pulling away from the stunned man before you. 

“Leave quickly, now. Don’t look back. Don’t stop until you get home.~” You desperately plead with him, he quickly leaves the area picking up his goggles and scarf as he dashed away from you. Leaving you all alone in the clearing. 

A few minutes passed by before Dabi’s figure appeared from the tree line, his trench coat grazing against the flowers as he walked towards you. 

“Y/N, what are you doing out here?” He asked. 

“I found it after gathering the Intel and couldn't resist stargazing for a moment.” You effortlessly lie, hoping it sounded convincing to the man beside you. 

He scoffed, before he let a chuckle escape his lips. “We were supposed to meet at the location I sent you an hour ago. You weren’t answering your phone so I figured you must have gotten caught and I would be forced to come save you.”

“Awe! See I knew you would come save me if you thought I was in trouble!” You giggled. 

“Whatever dumbass, did you find out anything?” 

“Yeah, did you?” 

“No, the location was a dud.” 

“Well, The grand commander of the Meta Liberation Army wants to start a war with the league of villains.” You stated boldly with a smirk playing on your lips. 

“HEH! Does he now? Tell me more."

╭┉┈◦ೋ•◦❥•◦

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Bonus Scene:

Dabi sat on the floor, his back leaning against the couch you were currently resting on. His fingers tapped relentlessly on his phone as he messaged back and forth with someone he was thinking about bringing into the league. 

Your eyes were glued to the book in your hands as you reread the same passage three times already. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything but the events that happened between you and the Eraserhead hero from last night, the kiss still tingling on your lips as you remembered it. You let out a harsh sigh as you threw the book to the floor, the sudden moment made Dabi’s eyes glance towards you with curiosity when you remembered something similar about him and Aizawa. 

“Dabi, I just remembered something.” You said with a smile as his eyes narrowed at you with fake annoyance. 

“What?” He grunted out as he glanced back at his phone when it buzzed in his hand. 

“Back when you were training me to fight, my quirk barely worked on you and it still doesn’t work on you too well. What do you think is the cause?” 

His fingers suddenly stopped typing as his shoulders stiffened, his turquoise eyes remained locked on the phone in his hands as he refused to look back at you. Dabi rolled his shoulders to let out the tension quickly before he let out a scoff at your question. 

“Tsk! You still don’t know why your quirk doesn’t work on me? Don’t worry you’ll figure it out someday, Doll.” He replied playfully.

“You're no help! What if my quirk doesn’t work on someone else during a fight, I want to get stronger.” 

His expression hardened as his steeled eyes locked with yours, his dyed black hair looming over his furrowed eyebrows. 

“Did your quirk not work on someone else? Who was it?” He quickly Interrogated, as he completely ignored his phone now continuously buzzing on the ground beside him. 

You glanced away from his serious expression, the mere thought of Shota had you struggling to keep the blush that threatened to creep up your face at bay. 

“No one. It’s just a hypothetical.”

He looked at you for a moment, studying your actions before he turned his attention back towards his phone and mumbled out. 

“Then you don’t have to work about it, it won’t happen with anyone else.” 

‘Everyone except Shota Aizawa.’ 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“ERASER!” Present Mic shouted as he slammed open the door to his room. 

Aizawa glared at him with tired eyes as he sat up from his bed, the late night had caused him to sleep in late the next morning. He rubbed the remaining bits of sleep out of his eyes as his childhood friend bounced around the room excitedly talking about different topics, his voice had drowned out in his ears over the years as he was able to pick out bits of important information from his ramblings. 

“I heard you went out on a mission last night to trail some members of the LOV, did you find the hideout?” He questioned. 

“No, they managed to get out of sight before I could follow them all the way there.” Aizawa skillfully lied. 

“Who were you even tracking anyways?!” He shouted, the excitement making him rise his voice. 

Aizawa hesitated for a moment, contemplating how much he could share of his passionate encounter with you. “Y/N L/N.”

“WHAT?! THE TEMPTRESS?!” 

“Temptress? Where did you get that?” 

“It’s been what the news is calling them lately, I guess Seductress was to spot on for them.” 

Aizawa swiftly got ready as his friend continued to rattle on about how the news picked such lame nicknames for people and why, before his hand reached for the door. 

“WOAH! Where are you going?! You just woke up, what could possibly have to do on a weekend that we don’t have classes on. “ 

“I found a lost kitten last night, but it ran away before I could bring it home.” Aizawa answered with a softened expression as his eyes glanced towards the ground. 

“You're going to go search for a kitten?” 

“Of course, I already decided it’s mine.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ A/N: I honestly wasn't planning to write such a heated make out scene, but I like how it turned out. Originally I did have a different backstory for the reader but it seemed to similar hawks, so I cut it.

Anyways, this was very fun to write! It's exciting to think about the quirks people send in with requests and how I can make them work into the story.

#aizawa imagine #aizawa headcanons #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #shota aizawa imagines #shota aizawa fanfiction #shota aizawa x reader #shota aizawa headcanons #shota aizawa x y/n #shota aizawa x you #aizawa fluff #shouta aizawa imagine #shouta aizawa headcanons #shouta aizawa fluff #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x y/n #shouta aizawa x you #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #eraserhead x you #eraserhead x y/n #eraserhead imagines #eraserhead headcanons #eraserhead fanfic #aizawa shota #aizawa shota x y/n #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota x you

[yuezodiaco]

Unveilings

First of all. You can find me as Pandorahero17 on AO3

Your boyfriend Aizawa notices that you haven't slept for several days. As the two of you have a heart-to-heart talk, you begin to talk about the support you give each other and something else.

You were sitting in your office working, grading homework that you had dropped off from the 1-A and 1-B students at A.U. Hero School, when suddenly you heard a light knock on the door. Aizawa was standing in the doorway of the room.

"You should be asleep by now," he said leaning against the door frame.

You looked at him before sighing and ignoring him as you turned your gaze back to the paper you were grading, the sound of footsteps followed the sound of the door closing. The man took your chin and made you look at his face.

"I need to finish grading" -With a sleepy voice you answered him.

"You're working too hard" -Said Aizawa still holding your chin and looking into your eyes with his irritated eyes, it would seem he was analyzing you, he let go of your chin before sighing and pulling away a bit- "Why are you working so hard" -He stated almost desperate for an answer.

You brought your hands to your face while gently rubbing your eyes- "Because I've been grading your work, it's all to help you, you've been too busy on missions you've been ordered to do and you haven't had a decent rest".

The red-haired man's expression turned friendly at your comment, he let out a slight chuckle before sighing and smiling a little.

"Why do I deserve to rest" - He asked raising an eyebrow looking at you as if there was a trick to your answer?

"Why? You're always guarding the city at night, you're an excellent teacher, you're also working and teaching the children" - Your voice comes out with tones of indignation - "And that's what I love about you." - The last you say with a soft tone towards the man.

"And what exactly do you love about me?" - Aizawa said smiling without looking away this time she spoke in a softer tone than usual. That question she asked you didn't seem like a trick, a trap or something like that, it seemed like she was genuinely asking you, her body was more relaxed, her shoulders were no longer tense, all that stress was suddenly gone.

Slowly you got up from the desk leaving everything there, you start to approach the red-haired man and hugged him- "Oh Shouta, I've known you since we were 16 years old" - You stand on your tiptoes to reach his face and start kissing him repeatedly all over his face. - "You are so protective, caring, understanding, an excellent hero and teacher" - You tell him between the kisses you give him.

Aizawa blushes at your words, he had heard them many times, but it was always different coming from you. The small soft kisses and the hug made him feel warm almost as if his body was getting warmer. He wrapped you in a hug and pulled you to himself before finely speaking.

"Is that all" -He expresses with his mocking tone, his grip on you tightened.

"Mmph"-You make a sound of affirmation as you let yourself be enveloped by his warmth. - "You're the best, baby."

"Mmph, you're the best, baby" - Aizawa said with a teasing tone in his voice. He pulled away from the embrace as he looked at you, his expression not really changed by the compliment. She smiled at you for a few seconds before she looked up and took your hand in hers and started walking towards the door. - "Why haven't you slept in two days" - The red-haired man asked you after a moment of walking in silence, He squeezed your hand to get your attention as he looked up at you waiting for the answer.

¨I know honey, I am your fabulous girlfriend" - you answer with a big smile, hearing again the question you explain why. - "I saw you so busy with the assignments you are given and I know that you then come very tired to grade the assignments you leave, so I decided to do it for you, but it seems to take me longer than expected. You make your class suffer with quite a bit of homework, but I understand your methods. - you mention mockingly.

Aizawa's expression became softer when he heard your answer, he was so used to people telling him that he needs to be less strict and that his students suffer because of it. For once, someone understood why he was like this, he was doing all this because he wanted to be the best possible teacher for his students.

"Well, they need to learn their lessons somehow so they can become good heroes someday" - Aizawa states with a small laugh on his face as he squeezed your hand. "Thank you for helping me."

"I don't see any flaw in your logic and I'll tell you a secret between us, I love to see them desperate when they ask for help with their homework" -You let out a small laugh as you remember a certain blond with an electricity quirk. - "No problem at all, love."

Aizawa rolled her eyes before giggling a little. - "So you like to see them suffer when they ask for help" -She said with a smirk on her face- "You're an evil being" -She laughed before looking towards you. - "I have to be hard on them to keep them from failing and becoming failures, after all, I want them to be their best. - He gave a small sigh before looking up at you and giving you a small kiss on the cheek- "Thank you for always being with me".

"It's a guilty pleasure" -You close your eyes as you feel Shouta's kiss- "For better or worse, sweetheart, but I think it's time to go to sleep, I think I'm going to start competing with your dark circles under your eyes and you, my love, need more sleep." -You grab his hand tightly to leave the office and go straight to their shared room.

Aizawa chuckled a bit as you spoke, maybe it's not so bad to make children suffer after all- "It's okay, they can keep suffering. I won't stop you from watching" -You managed to make him chuckle, he let you lead him to the bedroom before sighing and looking at you.

"Maybe I should quit my job and start being a househusband instead" - He joked, it seemed that he is finally starting to relax, the stress of days he had seemed to be gone, at least for now. I just wanted to be by your side right now.

The two of you enter your room, quickly changed and lay down on the bed- "Ah, then I'll buy you the best apron for my sexy boyfriend to welcome me back" -You exclaim excited- "God I already gave myself a mental picture, I think I'll have a wet dream" -You declare with amusement and insinuation.

The man's face turned completely red and he gave you a nervous laugh when you spoke frankly about your dreams. He gave you a playful little smack on your arm. - "That's not something to joke about, baby" - He commented teasingly, resting his head on his pillow to turn to you with his eyes closed as he waited for your response.

"Come on honey, if you put on the apron I'll put on the kitten lingerie you gave me on our anniversary" -You begin to settle on his chest. - "I think it's only fair, the outfit is brand new."

Aizawa commented laughing lightly when you made mention of the lingerie, with a slight blush on her face- "If you agree" -Commented with teasing in her voice, she opened her eyes, gave you a smile and kissed your forehead before speaking again- "Okay, but you can't make jokes when you wear it" -Exclaimed while stroking your long hair lightly with her hand.

"You're taking all the fun out of it" -You exclaimed with your eyes closed and letting yourself be petted- "Besides where did you get that tiny outfit from?"

"Well, I can't let you say something funny, we both know you'll make fun of me" -Aizawa chuckles lightly before his eyes widened comically at your question- "Where did I get the suit!"- He seemed surprised that you seemed to know, a slight blush came on his face- "You shouldn't have seen it!"

"If that were to become true, why did it mysteriously appear in my lingerie drawers?"-You exclaimed teasingly-"Is it that you wanted to see me in the lingerie on our last anniversary, with those tiny panties, tiny bra, with cat ears and tails?"-You opened your eyes without turning to your boyfriend.

Shouta's face turned completely red when you started describing the little outfit and yet he couldn't help but feel a bit excited and thrilled- "Maybe I did…" -He said with a hungry tone while looking at you with a playful and flirtatious expression on his face.

Following his game you started to say- "Mmm then we'll have to wait until the weekend when Eri goes out with the guys from your class, so we can debut the suit and maybe hopefully give Eri a baby brother" -You comment flirtatiously while caressing his chest."

Aizawa couldn't be more flushed, he felt nervous and excited as he watched you in the moonlight- "Excuse me what?"- Clearly nervous about this moment, he raises an eyebrow at you as his lips parted slightly.

"If you heard me that's good, if not, you'll have to wait until the weekend to find out what I told you" -with mockery you put yourself on the opposite side of him and cover yourself with your sheet- "He dreams very well, my love".

Aizawa started to feel sexually frustrated when you spoke teasingly, you were teasing him…but internally he liked it, he loved it when your his girlfriend teased him, even if it turned him on quite a bit- "And why should I listen to you?"-He exclaimed teasingly, he leaned closer to you when he spoke and started to nibble your ear playfully- "I think I prefer this more"-He gave you a slight choked laugh.

"Oh Shouta stop playing" -A soft moan came out of you- "I don't want our little girl to hear her parents having sex" -You start to give little sighs.

Shota smiles mischievously, he kissed your cheek and played teasingly with your nipple before he spoke again- "Well then you shouldn't have started playing…you know I'm flying crazy with you, love." -He exclaims as he leaned more over you, he kept giving you little kisses on your neck- "You know that if we keep this up I'm going to get you pregnant, right?"-His breathing was slowly intensifying.

"Shouta…If you get me pregnant you would make me very happy" -You were trying to moan softly.

Her face flushed again when you mentioned having a baby. That was something he never thought he would have because he was a hero, however, the idea intrigued him and made him feel happy, giving you a little kiss on your cheek and he placed you on your back while he settled between your legs, he leaned over you to whisper in your ear- "Is that what you want?" -I asked you lustfully while he started to play with your breasts.

"Yes" -With your voice full of assurance and love you said the following- "Yes, please fill me with your seed, baby, I need you." Shouta's face is completely happy. The words you said a moment ago were what he wanted to hear. His breathing started to become heavier with your affirmation. - "Okay, but on one condition" -I whisper to you. "Yes my love?" -You questioned.

"Marry me" -Aizawa whispered in your ear. There was no hint of mockery in his tone or a slight hint in his voice. He was completely serious about his proposal, he had been thinking about asking for your hand for so long and this seemed like the perfect time to finally bring it up.

"Yes" -You affirmed as you slowly covered your mouth with your hands and tears of happiness came out of your eyes, you began to nod your head repeatedly. - "Yes, yes I want to marry you, Shota."

Aizawa smiled softly and let out a small laugh. She wiped away your tears as she laughed, leaned over to you and gave you a small kiss on the lips.

"Oh, honey" -He said as he sat you on his lap and hugged you- "I never expected to make you cry like this" -He looked at you- "Are you happy?" he asked with a soft and comforting touch.

"God Shouta, you've made me the happiest woman" -You answered his hug and sobbed into his chest again- "I love you so much". "Well, it doesn't seem why you're sobbing now" -Shota mentions before chuckling lightly as he held you close to his chest. He hugged you back and sighed before speaking again. - "I love you too, sweetheart" -He said gently caressing your back, he smiled softly again and kissed your head before speaking again- "So, are you sure about marrying me now or…?" he asked with a slight teasing tone in his voice.

"Shh Shota, let me enjoy this moment" - Your voice came out a little hoarse but calm, as you gave him a light punch on arm. - "I love you."

"Can you make me a promise" -He asked you softly as his hand caressed your hair before he spoke- "Please stop working late" -He said with a soft tone of voice while kissing your forehead.

"Okay, I promise" -You say exhausted by this talk- "But you also have to promise to sleep with me and eat something more decent than your jellies, hey, I don't want my husband to get tired before giving me a baby.

Aizawa laughed lightly- "Don't worry love, I promise you everything you ask for" -He started kissing you again and pulling you closer. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with you right now. Just the fact that he could finally say you were his fiancée and future wife made his heart fill with a new warmth he had only felt twice, the first time when they became sweethearts, the second when they legally adopted Eri. When he spoke to you again, he did so in a soft voice. - "I love you" -With her tone of voice back to its normal state, her eyes had a gleam of happiness in them.

"I love you too" -You replied in your tired voice. - Goodnight sweetheart…-Slowly you began to drift off to sleep, but with a smile on your face.

The black-haired man hugged you as he watched you sleep, he was so happy to be able to call you his fiancée and future wife. All he wanted at this moment was just to have you close. He leaned in and gave you one last kiss before finally closing his eyes and falling asleep in your arms. His breaths became deep and even, as he slept, a sweet smile came over his face. A smile filled with the happiness of love for you.

I hope you like it, it's been a long time since I've done this. There is continuation with smut in Ao3 <3

#anime #bnha smut #aizawa x reader #bnha x reader #aizawa shouta #mha x reader #mha #bnha imagines #x female reader #mha aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #my hero academia aizawa #mha x you #aizawa smut #shouta aizawa imagine

[crepe-of-wrath]

Life is so unfair. Why has Aizawa never saved me from a fall from a great height by wrapping me in his binding cloth and pulling me toward him so that he can take me in his arms in a way reminiscent of an 80s romance novel cover?

(pssh, enough with your "he's an animated man who doesn't exist, you ridiculous woman" and your other rationales...let me wallow.)

#aizawa shouta #aizawa imagine #shouta aizawa imagine #bn

[dabisbratz]

SOFTSPOT — aizawa shouta x male reader

w.c: 3.3k

a/n: alternatively titled: sonny projects onto a reader insert for 3k+ words straight i’ll never get used to writing dirty talk. got carried away.. whoops..

genitalia terms: cock, dick, hole, boypussy, cunt

WARNING: amab reader, praise, degradation, spitting, dirty talk, crybaby!reader, himbo!reader, fingering, anal, nipple play, chest mentions, use of the words ‘tits’ in a mocking manner, dumbification, mutual masterbation, sadism, humiliation, creampie

“Shooo!” You whine, purely instinctual as you shove impulsively purchased gym-mats, equipment, and protein powder into the trunk of your car. Your pro-hero boyfriend isn’t even there, probably off on patrol somewhere, but you can’t help but call for him when you need help…. Even if it’s with a simple task. He’d offered you some exclusive time to workout at U.A’s gym, even after hours, but you preferred the public ones. More motivation that way, you’d put it. Your bottom lip quivers, plump and pouty as you open a jar of discolored powder. You inhale strongly, handsome face distorting in disgust. Ah, well, at least someone else got some good money off it.

Sweat clings to your forehead, sticky on your skin and clinging embarrassingly to your chest, your sleeveless hoodie soaked. It’s a bit uncomfortable, nothing you can’t manage, just a little colder in the winter air.

The trunk of your car slams, loud as you childishly stomp over to the driver’s seat, despite already forgetting what you were so upset about. You don’t pull out of the gym parking lot just yet, instead opening your phone to see if your boyfriend had found the time to respond to your post-gym selfies. The messages remain on read, and you know Shouta would never ignore you, but your eyes can’t help but water from the neglect. You miss him.

So, like any sensible boyfriend, you call him.

Shouta is a capable man; capable of many things. He can swing through the streets of Japan in the blink of an eye— in his sleep, even. He can knock out a villain in record time, with nothing but his fists and maybe an afternoon nap. He can pick you up right where you stand, lift your legs over your head and fuck you like you weigh nothing. But a simple text back is too much?

It rings once, twice…..a few more times, before you finally hear the gruff voice you’ve been yearning for. Instantly, your mood changes, glassy eyes dry within seconds and a large, genuine smile spilling down your face as you glance at yourself in the rearview mirror. “Hello?”

“Sho-Chan!” You beam, loud enough for anyone within a ten mile radius to hear your excitement. Wiggling in your seat, you squeeze your cellphone between your shoulder and ear, starting the car and setting off to go home. Aizawa makes a sound at that, low in his throat and it rumbles in your ear. Damn, if only you kept your earbuds in! “I missed you… a lot!”

“An old man like me?” You frown in response, Shouta isn’t even old. You shake your head profusely, even if he can’t see you, completely missing the rustling sounds in the background of the call. “…Surely you’ve found someone your old age good enough for you at that gym you like so much.”

“Wha— Don’t even joke like that!” You huff, body lurching forward at the red light you almost forgot to stop at. So mean, always pushing your buttons. Your seatbelt is snug against your chest, dipping between the pillowy skin of your pecs. He’d never admit it aloud, but it was most definitely Shouta’s favorite body part of yours, squishy and soft and thick. He’s always touching you there, his large, pale hands digging into the skin until it hurts. He chuckles, hearty but breathless, like he’s preoccupied. You bite your lip, worried. “Uh, Sho?”

As capable as he is, Shouta is also a very weak man. He’s weak for puppy eyes, big and blown out and teary. He’s weak for warm hands, with nails that scratch his back and massage it the following morning after. He’s weak for pictures of you, all smiles and teeth. He’s weak for crying, the sound of hiccups and sobs leaving his pretty boys’ mouth while he tries to fit a cock in his needy holes.

He can see it now, your eyes widening with worry and concern, tears threatening to fall down your face, your eyebrows knitted as you stare at the road ahead of you. With a dragged out sigh, Aizawa groans, mocking as he says: “Sho-Chan’s gonna need your help, baby.”

“Oh!” You’re good at that— very good, even. You’re always eager to help, especially if you’re helping Shouta. It’s the least he deserves, after all. You straighten up in your seat, though you’re already nearing the reserved parking space in front of his house. Seriously, you add, “Anything, I promise. M’almost home.”

There’s a groan on the other side, a spark traveling down your spine and straight to your cock in response. You know that groan, reserved for handjobs and particularly sloppy blowjobs— like when Shouta holds your head in his hands and uses your throat, burying his cock down to the hilt, until all you can taste is him, your nose buried in his dark happy trail and and curly pubes. He’s always been a bit too big for your mouth, instead opting to slap his cock on your tongue or across your cheek when your jaw started aching too much.

“Mhm, bet you are… Waitin’ for Sho to tell you what to do, sweetheart?” You hum in affirmation almost immediately, unbuckling your seatbelt and hopping out the car with a much hastier pace. The cold, outside air makes the hair on your neck stand, your nipples hardening. “Such a good boy. Why don’t you play with your nipples while you tell him how your day was.”

You pause where you stand, eyes widening as your cock twitches in your sweatpants, straining against the fabric. In public, no less, making a distinct print in your pants as you try to cover your erection with one hand. You let out an incredulous laugh, frantically surveying the area as Shouta huffs in your ear. His request isn’t exactly that, more like a command— because you just can’t tell him no.

“I- I worked out a lot,” Switching hands between covering your dickprint and holding your phone, you swallow hard and nod to yourself. Your hand trails up your side, then to your chest, where you gently massage the plush skin of your pecs. Your middle finger gently— slightly, swirls around the sensitive bud of your nipple, a small whimper forming in the back of your throat. “Bought some, um… Um.. Protein powder.”

But you can’t just sit there, not when Shouta is almost right in front of you, his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you, his cock down his throat— he’s right there, just a few steps and a single lock away. And, God, how you hope he takes care of you when you get there. There’s a guttural noise in your ear before it’s briefly cut off. your phone vibrating in your hand as Shouta hangs up, the front door swinging open before you can even knock.

“These tits,” Is the first thing Sho’ says, slamming the door behind you until you’re trapped between it and his tall body. You want to protest, to whine and stomp your feet because they’re certainly not tits, but your need to please is much stronger. Instead, you whine, your head falling forward as you melt in his hands. His hands roam your chest, calloused palms pushing them together obscenely. You squirm, pouting. “Could play with them all day. Would you like that, hm?”

He knows you would.

“Hear how wet my dick is? Fuck, you don’t even know what you do to me,” He’s overwhelming your senses, his stubble brushing against your chest as he takes a perky bud into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. Shouta’s no stranger to using his mouth— in fact, you might just share an oral fixation in common. Your eyes flutter closed, your knees buckling as he licks a flat, long stripe over your sensitive nipple. “Going stupid on me already?”

You shake your head, your cheeks puffed out as he looks up at you through his dark lashes, his equally dark bangs obstructing his vision. You’re so cute, huffing and puffing quietly as a wet patch grows on your pants, right where your tip leaks through your boxers. Your natural smell is stronger, and your chest is still glowing with sweat from your workout.

“Sho, listen I–”

Shouta’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw setting as his other hand rolls your unoccupied nipple between his fingers. Your mouth snaps shut. Staring back at him is too much for you, his eyes darkening the more you make contact. You feel like prey, and Aizawa is the unrelenting predator.

You blink away, a startled gasp leaving your lips when his strong hand grips your jaw and sets your gaze back on him. His smile is devious, his canines sharp and glinting under the ceiling lights. You can’t hold onto anything around you, not the doorknob or the doorframe, so you settle for Shouta’s sleeve, ballling your hand into a fist as he flicks your nipples to watch your tits jiggle in response. So embarrassing!

“Look at that, sweet boy, letting me use you how I want, letting me take what I want. Good boy.”

Your body feels warm as you keen— scorching hot, even— while Shouta chuckles at the sight, purring low in his chest. You love making Shouta happy- you live for it, love blooming in your chest as you nod along. You’re a good boy! Shouta’s good boy! He said it himself! You could feel the rumble of his voice in your sternum, where he was hunched over before lowering himself to remove your shoes, your pants, your hoodie.

Your boxers are ruined, almost like you had cum in your pants before he even thought of touching your cock. He swats your shy hands away from your crotch, cooing as flustered tears well in your eyes. Even with the fat crystals threatening to spill he can see your cock jump, especially when it lands right atop your belly button, a trail of sticky precum correcting you to your underwear. Such a crybaby.

“Spit on it.”

“I— Spit?” You blink once, twice, three more times as you try to process the demand. Your cock throbs, unbearably needy, as you look down at it. When you glance back up Shouta looks expectant, but patient as he watches you connect the dots. He does it first, untucking himself from his pants to spit down on his palm, then rubbing said spit into his big, veiny cock.

Ah.

It’s more pathetic than anything, your lips parting as you spit down on your cock. It’s more akin to drool, a long trail of spit slowly trailing down your lips and chin until it pools at your head. Wet and slick, your fingers twitch as you wrap your hand around your dick, toying with the slit just like Sho’ does. It feels better with his hands though, and you sigh impatiently. No one does it like he does,

“Need…need your hand.”

You need a lot of Shouta’s things these days. You need his fingers, deep inside your hole while he toys with your chest. You need his hand, warm and right and too good when he fists your cock. You need his dick, thick and barely able to pass the rim of your hole. It hits every spot just right, so big and so deep, sometimes accompanied by Shouta’s thumb if you’re feeling extra greedy. You need him to make decisions for you, when you’re too cockdrunk to remember your words. When you’re too stupid to decide anything for yourself.

You’re sure you’re crying by now— it feels like it, you can feel wet streaks on your face as Shouta takes his cock in his hand and rubs it against his own, heads squelching together and precum mixing together as you keen into his touch. His other hand, less dominant, reaches your neck, holding you steady against the door as you rut into his hand like a puppy. You hear yourself choke on a moan, a strangled and pathetic sound that has Aizawa’s dick twitching against yours. Loud and wet, your head falls back against the door with a quiet thump, much to your hero’s amusement.

There’s too much warmth; his hands, his fingers, his cock. You’re nodding along to nothing, eyes darting everywhere and nowhere all at once. Your body pulses, long strokes to your cock making you whine pitifully. Aizawa’s pupils are blown wide, his pink tongue darting over his equally pink lips as he watches you crumble in his hands, leaning into the hand around your throat. It snakes down your chest, lower against your belly button, and around your waist.

At this rate you’re going to explode.

His big, long fingers reach your ass, kneading the plush skin between fingers. You can feel him pulling your cheeks apart, his hands greedy and strong and harsh, when he lets go to place a hard smack to the exposed skin. Shouta laughs when you whine in return, squirming when he grabs your hip so hard it hurts.

You try so hard, proud of yourself as you try to warn Shouta of what’s coming next, of the cum about to shoot straight across your stomach, it takes every ounce of self control you have to scrape together the words you want to say— you have to say. His tight, wet grip has your toes curling, your balled fists reaching up for the dark bundles of hair draped along Aizawa’s shoulders. His middle finger, inching closer and closer to your rim.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck, m’gonna cum, waitwait, Shooo.”

“Mmm, hold on, sugar. Gonna get one out of you with my fingers in this cunt,” There’s something cold and sleek pressed against your taint, gradually warming up the more it circles your rim. There’s nowhere for you to go— forward is into Shouta’s arms, your cocks bumping together lewdly, backward are his fingers; long, thick, calloused and deep. You let out another hiccup, going with the latter of the two as his finger disappears inside you. Grunting along. Shouta’s fingers reach impossibly deep inside you first try, your hole swallowing him up with little resistance. “Did you fuck yourself before you got home? Shoved those needy fingers in your hole because you missed Sho-chan’s big dick pulsing inside your hole? T’aww.”

“Uh-huh, mhm, yeah,” Another mindless, breathless nod while in the back of your head you find yourself pouting. It’s not a cunt and you certainly don’t find that phrase hot at all! You move to nuzzle your forehead against his stubble, moaning out tiny sounds with each brush to your prostate. Shouta lets you drool on his shoulder, eyes squeezed right as you buck your hips into his. You’re sobbing into his ear, thighs trembling against the door as he spreads your cheeks apart, and cool air meets your hole. “Hmmph..”

“Turn around for me, show me where Daddy fucks you. Where his dick goes.” That’s a new one. But he’s right, it’s a perfect fit— even if it needs some prep. He fills you up just right, keeps you stuffed on his cock till all you can do is whine and cry, bounces you up and down until you’re both satisfied. You’re in love.

So you turn, dizzy and wobbly on your legs and unabashedly eager to be good for your lover. He keeps you upright if anything, basically manhandling you until you’re where he wants you, back arched against the door and your cheek squished below the peep-hole. Your hands travel down your chest, down to your hips where they swerve back, palms resting on the swell of your ass. A hungry, animalistic grin graces Shouta’s lips as he watches you spread your cheeks apart once more, the puffy hole winking back at him. You try to smile at him, messy-faced and dopey.

Cute.

There’s more spit now than you remember, warm and sloppy as Shouta rubs it into your hole. Your cock strains painfully, desperate for release, but somehow your overwhelming need to feel full is stronger. And full you’ll be, as Aizawa’s balls tighten, his cock sliding across the crack of your ass, then around your hole. There’s an obscene smack of the head against your rim, then the sound of Shouta sucking in a deep breath through his teeth.

“Shh. Let me in, let me in, baby.” His dick enters slowly, making you sniffle in response. You try your hardest to relax, to sit still and let Sho’ take you how he wants, but you can’t help it. He presses into your hole like he owns it, deep and heavy as his thighs meet the bottom of your backside.

“Take it like you were made for me.”

His balls slap against your own slow, at first, then quickly and sporadically increasing in speed at the expense of your throat. It’s almost like he’s fucking you there too, deep enough that you can taste his precum at the very back of your tongue. His strong arms wrap around your body, hands squeezing your large chest while you bat your wet eyelashes.

“Fuuck, you take it so well. Love watching that greedy fuckin’ hole suck me in. So fuckin’ wet n’ sloppy, ugh, such a good pocketpussy.”

Your rut against the door, pounding against it with each forward thrust, your cock threatening to spurt any second. Shouta’s grumbling something in your ear, something you can’t make out through the foggy haze, but you feel yourself tighten up in response anyway. You babble through your tears, wailing loud and incoherent and something along the lines of ‘I’m Sho’s good boy,’ but who’s keeping track.

“Too— hmm.. I can't.” Shouta’s hand caresses your cheek, curling into a lazily formed fist as he gently knocks a knuckle (though it’s more like the fat of his hand) against your forehead. He makes a sly comment about how hollow and empty your head sounds, a dark and rich laugh erupting from his mouth.

“S’it too much, honey? My dick’s just too much for that tiny little hole,” Your cock jumps against your tummy, twitching until it can’t anymore, cum shooting straight out your tip until you’re drooling on the door, eyes rolled behind your head as Shouta continues using you— you’d only gotten tighter, after all. “That’s too bad. Come on— you can take it, let me stuff it full. Bet you’re so proud of yourself too. Proud of that slutty fuckin’ boypussy.”

Your toes curl, thigh muscles clenching tight as Aizawa keeps you upright, lifting your boneless body up and down, his cock disappearing inside you. Even as he pulls out, your body pulls him right back in. But he’s clearly reaching his limit, his dick pulsating inside you with vigor as he spurts a thick, sticky load inside you around your rim.

He pulls out completely with a hiss, watching his cum slowly trickle out, thick globs collecting at the back of your thighs. He’s the only thing holding you up, your strong legs suddenly jello in his grasp. You make no effort to move, letting him manhandle you onto the couch. His hands are warm in contrast to the wet cloth you don’t remember him grabbing, but it feels good and cool against your skin.

“Sho-Chan..” You whine, not nearly as high in your throat as your moans. “Kiss me.”

#₊˚⊹♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 #aizawa shota smut #shouta aizawa imagine #bnha aizawa #aizawa x y/n #aizawa shota x y/n #aizawa x reader #aizawa imagine #anime x male reader #mha x male reader #bnha smut #x male reader #aizawa x you #aizawa x male reader #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x male reader #mha x y/n #bnha x m!reader smut #x male y/n #aizawa smut

[tired-teacher-blog]

So, Aizawa's neck is extremely sensitive. Yup I called it.

There is a reason why he conveniently keeps it wrapped in his capture weapon most of the time.

Finding out about it was purely coincidental, it was never your intention to brush your fingers along the pale skin when you reached out to tuck a loose strand behind his ear, you couldn't help it either, he looked breathtaking in a simple black tank top and similar colored sweatpants as he emerged after his evening shower.

What was meant to be an innocent gesture, soon turned into something else entirely when his breath suddenly hitched and goosebumps appeared where your fingers had touched.

It was a new and unexpected sight that triggered something within you, and you needed more of the sensation it had evoked..

_ "So even the incredible Mr Aizawa has a weakness like the rest of us huh?" you teased for the nth time as you tightened your grip on his wrists and pressed down on his throbbing bulge before diving in to suck another bright red spot on his once flawless neck, "you've kept it well hidden this far, I'm impressed."

It's no wonder to be frank, he has always been dominant and well guarded even with you, and it is unusual of him to show any sign of vulnerability, which is why you held on to this rare instant with all your might.

_ "Alright that's enough, you've had your fun haven't you?" he huffed in apparent annoyance but did nothing to stop you, and how easy would it have been for him to free himself of your clutches, had he truly wished to.

_ "Just a little more, please." you whined a plea and kissed his delicate skin again, relishing the strangled groans he so desperately sought to muffle.

_ "Whatever.." but his feigned indifference couldn't fool you.

How could it, when his restless hips unveiled his growing impatience for something more?

Divider by : @/saradika

#Assal! we'll have to talk more about this 😉 #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota x you #aizawa shota smut #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa headcanons #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #aizawa shouta fluff #aizawa shouta imagine #aizawa imagine #aizawa fluff #aizawa shouta headcanons #shouta aizawa smut #shouta aizawa imagine #mha fluff #bnha fluff

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

♡︎𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚♡︎

Day 8 of Kinktober 2022

Summary: you've been a little starved for attention since Shouta's been working more, so you tease him with a little pet name that drives him crazy.

Props to my beta reader for today @sasualblxd - thank you for your amazing help!

872 words.

Shouta had always been the type to take the lead in bed. You loved every second of it, and it helped to ease you into a more submissive headspace when he would be so gentle with you.

As of late, you've been craving your husband's touch, but since he's been so busy with the aftermath of yet another school-related disaster, he's had little to no free time. Little time for you.

Of course it was a little upsetting, but you would never let that get in the way of your love for him, and instead of letting yourself get torn up about it, you chose to help him in whatever ways you could. And now, he's back to his normal schedule and all has been dealt with. Finally.

Now, he gives you his full, undivided attention as a silent thank you. You revell in it.

This gives you the perfect opportunity to pounce. The second he walks through the door of your shared apartment you're immediately on him like a tiger to its prey. Tired, squinted eyes widen in surprise at the sudden feeling of your soft lips pressed against his own and your hips grinding flush against his, though he soon melts into your little "welcome home" gift.

"Did you have a good day at work, daddy?..."

Oh.

Oh.

He's going to enjoy this.

He catches you like you're some sort of fleeting butterfly, gently hugging you around the waist before you can turn fully around and skip away to the bedroom, his well-toned bicep fitting perfectly around the small of your waist like a jigsaw piece.

Soft, but itchy, ticklish black scruff ghosts over the tempting skin of your neck, and his baritone voice gives you delightful chills, setting your stomach alight.

"Daddy, huh?... You're pulling out all the stops. Have I left you unattended for too long, baby?..."

A sly giggle is all he receives from you as you manage to slip from his loose grip at your hips, fluttering pretty, mascara-painted lashes at him before disappearing down the hall and into the bedroom.

His bags are dropped unceremoniously to the floor just to the right of the door where his shoes are aimlessly flung, detailing his impatience. You don't have to wait even another second before your husband is back in your sights, and you in his.

The plain black clothes you were wearing when he first saw you earlier are now discarded, strewn across the floor haphazardly, leaving soft skin clad in only your nicest underwear, his favourite.

Now, your relationship with Shouta has evolved past the point of using nice underwear every day to impress him, but it's still nice to surprise him with something pretty every once in a while.

"What's brought this on, baby?"

"Nothin'... Just you."

If it was possible, he would fall even deeper in love with you at the sight of the enamoured gaze that you direct at him, and the image infront of him is something akin to a beautiful renaissance painting, depicting a beauty he's never seen in anyone but you.

Before long, he has you trapped between him and the bed, your legs tangled together and your arms held above your head. It was just too much to ask that he would be patient, and while you recover from the rush of being thrown onto the bed your neck is being marked up by sharp teeth that nip and tug at the skin.

He moans into your shoulder, hot breath fanning over the wet hickeys and raising the hairs on your body, giving you chills. It's been a little while since you and your husband have gotten this intimate, so you waste no time in swatting away his hands after they've trailed down to prod at your slick cunt through your underwear, wrapping strong, thick legs around his waist.

God, forgive you for being so impatient, but Shouta doesn't seem to mind even in the slightest judging from the low chuckle reverberating through his chest and the hand that loosens his belt and unzlips his fly.

He's already rock hard and weeping at the sight before him, his beautiful wife splayed out on the bed, desperate for his touch and dressed only in a lace bra and a tiny thong, which is easily slipped out of the way to make room for the impressive length belonging to your man.

"Tell me how much you want it. I want to hear you beg."

Who are you to decline? You've been aching for his attention for weeks, so now is not the time to get shy.

"Fuck! I want it, daddy! 'want it so bad! Wanna feel you inside me!"

That's all it takes for him to finally get impatient, forcing his cock between soaked pussy lips, precum already smearing against your hot walls.

The pleased wail that forces it's way from between your lips is like music to Shouta's ears, telling him just how good he is at pleasing you, and making you feel new heights of pleasure you've only ever imagined.

He can't think of a better way to spend the rest of his week, than to be buried inside of you, breeding your cunt all day long.

© 2022 not-your-fucking-kacchan

◃ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 ▹

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha headcanons #mha fluff #aizawa x reader #shoto aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #mha aizawa #aizawa x reader smut #aizawa shōta #aizawa smut #shouta aizawa imagine #aizawa shota x reader #bnha kinktober #notyourfuckingkacchan kinktober! #kinktober 2022 #kinktober

[aaakikoo]

could u do a uni professor aizawa and a student reader where she goes to a cafe that’s not well known sometimes and orders something and sits in the corner and just breaks down once in a while late at night (the cafe is 24/7). And on one of those nights her professor (aizawa) comes in and takes to her and tells her to let it all out on him and pretend she doesn’t know him.

GRADES

an -> this is shit but whatever lol, first time writing for Aizawa so, enjoy. (Long and outstretched and annoying)

another an -> a song I was listening to while writing, live love laugh, Lana del Rey🫶🏼.

paring -> s.aizawa x f!collage student reader

warnings -> cursing, crying, mentions of death, blood, (sleeping around?), tell me if I missed any!

———

“Alright, that’s for todays lecture, make sure to study see you after the weekend.” Your chemistry professor said as he closed his laptop and walked out the room.

The hall was filled with bunch of students, just like you who had each their dreams. You want to become a perfumer. You loved beautiful floral scents the most, you had your own collection of perfumes in your dorm, you just loved the idea of creating and smelling perfumes.

But things weren’t so easily for you lately.

“Hi y/n do you wanna join us? We are going to the corner store to get snacks then we are heading to the cinema!” One of your closet friends tapped you on your shoulder waiting for your replay as the rest of the group are looking at you.

“It’s fine Denki, maybe another time.” You smiled at him and waved the group off.

You headed back to your dorm to finish your assignments, they’ve been building up on you. You entered and shut the door, you took a quick shower and got ready to binge do 3 assignments so they can get off your shoulders.

Few hours later you finished, you decided to head the cafe shop you loved so much. It was peaceful place you where you could just let your mind run free.

It was a short walk too, as you entered the owner nodded while smiling at you, knowing you’re her most loyal customer. You smiled back and sat in the usual place.

It was nice to sit in a small cafe that doesn’t have many people. The owner came to you and placed an americano infront of you, “here you go, dear. Enjoy your drink.” She smiled and walked away.

“Thank you.” You said taking the drink and taking a small sip. You sighed as you realized that you had no more assignments on your shoulders anymore.

However, there has been something else on your mind.

Your family.

Ever since the attack that happened a year ago, things weren’t the same.

Before attending collage you were just in an ordinary high school. Heading back home after the last day of school, excited to tell your family that you had graduated.

On your way there was a lot of running in all directions, children crying, and loud noises. You didn’t know what was wrong until a man came to you and said, “run! There is a villain.” Your heart sank knowing that you were standing in your streets.

You ran home as fast as possible to see that your house was standing, you entered and nobody was there. You heard crying from the bathroom, you entered and saw your little brother shivering under the sink.

“What happened?” You asked and he was too traumatized to give you an answer. “Let’s go!” You carried him and ran out the house. As you were running down the streets with him, you saw a figure covered with blood on the road.

You quickly covered your brother’s eyes as you came closer the body, only to realize it was your own mother. You heart sank and your eyes widened at the sight.

No way right…

There is no fucking way…

She was covered in blood, head to toe. Grocery bags filled with previously fresh fruit now being covered in dark red liquid.

You couldn’t control your body as you had collapsed.

Few hours later you were in bed with your little brother right next to you in your room. You quickly covered his small frame and ran downstairs to see hero’s, policemen, and the ambulance outside your house.

You walked outside to see two paramedics carrying a figure on a stretcher, they had covered it with white sheets. It doesn’t require math to figure out who it was.

You couldn’t believe your eyes back then.

The ambulance drove away along with the hero’s.

The police shoved the villain inside their car and drove away as well.

You ran and hugged your father only for him to give you a cold stare. “Get back inside your room.” You didn’t mind him, you thought he would act this away. Traumatized by what happened probably, or that was what you thought until a few weeks after you caught him making out with another woman in your living room on the couch, the same place where your mother sat.

You haven’t spoke to him since, you’ve been living in the dorms and your brother had been with your grandparents since.

“Dear are you okay?” The sound of the old lady caught you off guard. “Yes I am okay.” You replied to her as she looked into your eyes.

“You spaced out so I thought something was wrong.” You shook your head at her statement. “Nothing is wrong, I’m just a little bit tired.” You assured her as you stood up from your seat.

You walked to the cashier and handed her money, “thank you, see you next time.” You waved and left the store heading back to your dorm.

You woke up the next day very late, but who cares it was a Saturday. You did some reading and you relaxed. You went to the mall to get a few things and on your Rey back, you saw your professor shopping.

He noticed you and gave you a gentle nod and you nodded back.

When you came back, you made yourself a simple dinner as you read for a bit more and headed to bed.

Sunday, the day after. You usually make it your study day. You got up, ate breakfast, took a quick shower, and turned on your laptop.

You did the usual, reading, taking notes, and finishing off a short assignment. You need to get the best grades for the final exams.

The day went by quickly and you headed to bed again. You woke the next day fresh, you made your way to the hall and it was emptied than the usual.

“Good morning.” Your professor said, and you replied back. “Morning Mr. Aizawa. Where is everyone?” You asked as he rubbed the middle of his eyesbrows. “Those brats are probably late.” You nodded and took a seat.

You couldn’t really focus during todays lecture that your professor had to call your name a few times. By the end of the day you were pretty tired. You decided to head to the only place where you could clear your mind.

As you made your way there the owner greeted you like usual and placed a cup of latte this time in front of you. “Thank you.” You told her and she smiled at you.

You opened your laptop and rewind todays lecture since you didn’t really pay attention.

After a little bit of reading and taking notes you felt confident that you are sure of the topic.

You closed your books and laptop as you started drinking from your coffee cup.

The door bell ringed alarming the lady that a new costumer entered her cafe, you looked up and to your surprise you saw your chemistry teacher entering.

The older man noticed you and made his way to you. “What are you doing here?” He asked you.

“I come here very often, it’s my favorite place.”

“Ah, I see. I see you did take some notes, that’s really good y/n.” He smiled and took a seat infront of you.

“I see that your grades have improved a lot since the mid terms. You’re working very hard on yourself but make sure to not overwork yourself.” He told you as the owner came and took his order.

You finished your drink just when the she served him his. “Get me another drink for her.” He told and she nodded.

“Ah thank you.” You said, “I really want to get the best grades and I want to graduate knowing I’ve achieved my dreams.”

“Big dreams huh? What’s on your mind lately.” He asked but before you could answer the owner came and gave your and your professor your orders as she muttered an “enjoy” and left.

“I Uhh, as I’ve said I want to graduate with the best grades and work my dream job.” You took a sip. “And I want to give my little brother the life he deserves.”

“Your little brother? May I ask, what is your purpose.” Your professor asked and your dad eyes trailed down the table.

“It’s because uh, our mother isn’t here anymore, because of a villain, she passed last year. And our father well, he, isn’t in the right state of mind at the moment, all he does is drinking and clubbing, and meeting young women.” You said as your eyes began to water.

“It’s been really hard to both focus on myself in school, work 2 part time jobs, and visit my brother who lives far away at our grandparents house every know and then. So I am overwhelmed by my entire situation.”

You left Aizawa speechless. The man didn’t know what to say.

“Y/n I must say your very strong, I can’t help but admire you.”

You started packing your stuff, “I’m sorry, I think I should leave. See you tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to me. You clearly have a lot on your mind, tell me and let me see if I can help you. Forget that I’m your professor right now, y/n.”

Just like that you started complaining about everything and everyone to your teacher, it felt weird that you shared private issues with your professor but you didn’t really care right now.

“How about I help you by moving your late Friday lecture to Tuesday afternoon. That way you can work your partime job without have to come to school after?” Your teacher suggested and you smiled.

“That would be nice.”

“I’ll move your Thursday early lecture to Monday, that way you only come to school for 3 days and you have both Thursday and Friday off, in addition to Saturday and Sunday. 3 days school, 4 days work and you can take from Thursday till Sunday off every once in a while to visit your brother, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds amazing, thank you so much.” You thanked the man again as he smiled.

You both looked out the window and it was beginning to rain. “I’ll drive you to the dorms, cmon.” He said.

As you got in the car you couldn’t help but admire it. It was so like him, both from the outside and the inside.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, I might get fired for driving you.” He said as he began driving.

“I won’t.”

A few minutes later you were in front of the student dorms, “have a goodnight y/n. See you tomorrow.”

.

#bnha x reader #mha #anime #bnha fanfiction #bnha headcannons #manga #bnha #aizawa shōta #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #aizawa shouta #bnha aizawa #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa x you #bakugou katsuki #shouta aizawa imagine #bnha shouta aizawa #shouta x you #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou

[theyscreamjade]

Shouta Aziawa body worshiping his wife after hearing the comments jealous ladies have said about her.

In My Eyes

「 Lemme say I've never ever thought I'd be making a Shouta Aizawa smut, It's one for the books. This is one for the books, I hope you like it! ෆ」

⊰ 18+! (Anyone who’s underaged will be blocked!)ও

↬ word count ᱺ 1.6k ෆ

↬ Disclaimer: Cursing, Sexual Acts, Body Shaming, Postpartum Depression.

A lot has changed. Everything isn’t the same anymore. With a rather reluctant and exhausted sigh, you placed the car in park and sat in the driver’s seat for a while. You gripped the steering wheel before bursting into tears, nearly sobbing as your soft cries became hurt screams. It was needed after the day you had.

You became one of UA’s newest teachers, replacing Midnight. It was an all-hands-on-deck situation and wasn’t the best for you. You just had your first kid, adopted another child, and married your fiancé. It’s been a rather..long long journey. You wiped your tears and composed yourself. It wasn’t the fact what happened to Midnight or immediately going back to school that was bothering you. Oh no…you handled and accepted her death already.

The only issue is…comments. Before you married Shouta, you were a hero. Destined for great things, a fighter, a motivator, and more. You were once skinny, slim, and flexible. Just as flexible as Mirko and that’s saying something. Once you were married and began settling with Shouta, you didn’t change…not until you become pregnant. The pregnancy was a breeze, with barely any morning sicknesses or anything, the downside was the fatty cravings and food you’d devour. Once you have birth to your son, your body adapted and popped into your motherhood body..which wasn’t the best idea.

Your body was thick, you had back fat, arm flaps, a double chin, a chubby tummy, thick thighs, wide hips, and breasts with a thick ass. Your originally size 6 dress size practically doubled and it wasn’t in a good way to others. Students hardly recognized you, teachers gossiped and ridiculed you, and postpartum depression was just increasing by the second. You felt numb, ugly..and undesirable.

“Kitten?” A voice said, snapping you back into reality. You blinked in confusion before you noticed you were in the bathroom, in a towel. You stood right in front of the sink with the water running, your toothbrush still naked in your hand. “You’ve been standing there for a few minutes. Is everything okay?” He asked, walking over to you. He placed his hand on your shoulder which made you jump without an exact reason. “I-I’m okay! I’m fine…I-I’m just going to check on the baby!” You lied, slipping past him towards the bedroom. You slapped on a robe and walked out. You zoned throughout the entire day, eating dinner, playing and acting..with your family and you can’t remember anything.

You peeked into the nursery, seeing the baby sleeping in his crib. He soft sighed and snores as he lay in his swaddle. You checked on Eri next, seeing her fast asleep while holding her Deku doll. You smiled at the sight of them before returning to your bedroom. Another restless night to work at the school again. “What’s wrong?” Shouta demanded, looking at you. “I-I’m fine. I just want to get some sleep…” you lied, not in the mood to argue. Not like as if you and he ever argued but you weren’t going to start now. You reached over to turn the bedroom lights off before something wrapped around your body.

With an easy tug, you were spinning toward Shouta’s arms. He hugged you tightly and rubbed your back. “Is what happened to Nemuri affecting you?” He asked, his hand touching the back of your head as you shook your head. “I-It’s not. It’s not that..” you admitted softly. Nemuri was an important part of your life and your hero life as well. She’s the reason why you and Shouta even started dating, she was this walking ball of confidence and sexual attraction. She barely had to do anything and guys were all over her but she loved herself. Whether she gained weight, lost weight, got bloated, or gathered acne on her skin. She owned it.

“Are you..still attracted to me?” You asked softly, resisting at first but you wanted to know. “What?” He questioned, looking down at you before you pushed him back. “Never mind, let’s go to bed.” You quickly spat, ready to drop the subject. “Kitten, what makes you think I’d not be attracted to you?” He questioned while you plugged your phone in before sitting on the bed with a soft thump. You stared at the wall for a second before hugging yourself. “Because…no one recognized who I am. Not a single student recognized me! All those pathetic teachers did nothing but gossip and talk shit about how I’ve let myself go! How I can’t do anything or even half the shit I could do!” You screamed in anger as tears streamed down your cheeks. “I-I’m not the same person you fell in love with…I’m not sexy, I’m not gorgeous or anything..” you said, trying your hardest to hold your sobs but failing terribly.

A pair of hands cupped each side of your face, holding your face in his hands as he lifted you to look into his eyes. He planted a few kisses on your face and lips, wiping your tears before he kissed you deeply. Tears still formed and streamed from your eyes as he eased you to the bed. His body is between your legs. “Shouta, W-“

“You’re right. You’re not the person I fell in love with…you’re more than that. You’re the person I married, the person I had a child and adopted another with. You were sexy before, you were gorgeous back then..but now, Kitten. You’re fucking libidinous. Every single day, you drive me fucking wild..you’re still pulchritudinous in every single way. You’re gorgeous, you’re still sexy, and there’s nothing that can ever change my damn mind.” He confessed, staring into your eyes. “I don’t care what I’ve got to do just to ensure and prove to you that you’re beautiful every day, I’ll do it..” he whispered, his lips inching closer to yours before they connected. “I love you, Kitten. I’ll never stop loving you..” He whispered against your lips, his hands opening your robe and exposing your body.

His lips immediately latched onto your breasts, sucking the nipple as soft moans escaped from you. Your toes curled with your walls throbbing with excitement. “S-Shouta..” you moaned out, excitement building between the two of you. It felt exactly how it did when you two first did it, or when you conceived your child on your wedding night. Nothing but magic, every single time. He always left you speechless. Your hair gripped his long strands of hair, moving with his head as he ate you out perfectly. His hands gripped your thighs as the thickness of them nearly folded around his fingers. “I-I-I’m close, I’m getting close!” You cried out to him, only to be ignored by him. He was a pleasure dom, after all. He never rests until you’re satisfied. Your back arched as he dove deeper, sucking harder on your clit until you finally climaxed.

Before you could even say a word, he slipped inside you. His eyes stared deep into yours and you knew instantly. It wasn’t just a quickie inside his sleeping bag, it wasn’t just a fast one before the kids returned from training or you gotta keep quiet so the kids won’t hear you two having sex. It was love, it was the sex you desired. Each thrust left you panting, begging, desiring more. It was the string that was once loose reconnecting again, you could feel his heart through his movements. How they never changed, regardless of how much your body has. He still loved you..just the way you were and it never stopped regardless of the position. Missionary, Doggy, Riding him, and cowgirl. Nothing changed.

It was reaching midnight, the bed sheets were tugged, pulled and some even popped from the corners. Pillows were scattered all over the floor, the blanket loosely over his body as he pounded you in his favorite position. Your hands gripped and scratched his back. You’ve came more than once, your mind was beyond blank which was possibly his plan. Shouta leaned close to you, taking your hands away from his back and pacing his fingers with yours as he placed his forehead over yours. Those eyes, the way he could see your soul..and still see more past that. “Say it, say you’re beautiful.” He demanded, feeling your walls clench him tightly. “I-I’m beautiful.” You stammered out, keeping your eyes on his. “Promise me you’ll tell me whenever you’re having doubts.” “I-I-I promise! I swear baby!” You moaned out, feeling the knot getting tighter as he pounded harder. His tip enters deep into your velvet, cum-covered walls. Each thrust pushed your legs back a bit further. “Who’s my beautiful fucking kitten?” He asked, feeling your body shake just as a wave crashed onto your system. In other words, you were cumming. “I-I am! I’m beautiful!” You cried out, loud enough for him to hear and possibly the whole neighborhood.

With a final deep thrust, he lay beside you and looked over at you. “How do you feel now?” He asked, turning towards you as he placed his hand on his cheek. “You could’ve just talked to me..or suggested a counselor.” You said in a joking tone, shuffling over into his arms. He chuckled and rubbed your back, his arms wrapping around your body. “This was more effective, besides…I needed help too.” He mumbled softly, kissing the top of your forehead. “…Shouta?” You asked softly. “Hm?” He replied, opening one eye and looking down at you. “Thank you…” you whispered, kissing his chest before his hand lifted your leg and placed it on his side. He pulled you as close as you could to him, kissing your shoulder and covering you completely. “I love you, Kitten.” He whispered, holding you as he could. He leaned close to your ear and whispered.

“There’s nothing that’ll ever change that.”

#mha #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #i hope you like this #bnha imagines #my hero academy fanfiction #shouta aizawa imagine #shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #bnha shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa smut #shouta aizawa x you #shouta aizawa fanart #eraser head #aizawa sensei #shouta aizawa headcanons

[daseindigital]

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa imagine #my hero academia