Aizawa Smut - Blog Posts

So hot...🍄🍠🌽🌭🍔

could u do an aizawa fic please ❤️

A/N: QJSJSJDJ i got a thing for old men so thank you anon for askinggg. There weren't much details as what to write so i just used my brain.

:Parings: aizawa x housewife!reader

`:warnings: cum buldge, dirty talk, nicknames, uhhhh this is not proofread, its basically porn, dumbfication, full nelson typa shi

summary: being the good housewife you are your husband, aizawa decides to fuck the shit outta you

Aizawa was a very traditional man, and a very good teacher. But somedays would just be straight bad. Izuku kept hurting himself during training, katsuki wouldn't stop cussing the other class out, denki kept short circuiting, mineta wouldn't stop bothering the girl and there was news that shigaraki would soon make an attack. So yes today was hectic.

Aizawa was a busy man, often too busy. You 2 have been married for some time now. You were a stay at home wife that loved cooking and you even had a blog. After your marriage aizawa insisted you stay home, he loved coming home to you, he loved that when he came home you would greet him wearing nothing but his shirt. He loved that you would cook him breakfast everyday and dote on him, he loved when you suprised him with new sets of lingerie. He loved when you got all traditional wearing your kimono and act like his wife. Something about that made him want to fuck you dumb for being so good to him. And he would.

Lately it has been a bit hard. He often comes home super late or just plain tired, you 2 didn't have the chance Lately to go out or even fuck like rabbits. But you didn't mind. All that matters is that he came home to you everynight. And tonight he came home again.

It was aroung 10:30 ish when he came home, tired, in pain.

"Welcome home darling"

You greeted him taking his coat and combat scarf. He looked drained today.

"Today was bad huh"

He walked behind you and wrapped his hands around your waist burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Want me to wash your hair today hmm? I made your favorite today too"

He hummed in response and let go of me heading to the bathroom. It was af if he was a zombie. Poor baby. After 5 minutes when you entered the bathroom he sat in the bathtub with his head hanging on the end, his eyes closed. You headed over to him sat behind the tub where his head was located, took some shampoo in your hand and started messaging his scalp. It was peacefull, nice and relaxing.

"I love you"

You heard him say.

"I love you too darling"

After your bath you sat on his lap and fed him the food. Afterwards you started doing the dishes, then you felt a pair of hands holding you by the waist.

"Darling? Need anything?"

You stopped and turned around to look at your husbands. His eyes had darkened, his breath was heavy, and his eyes filled with lust. You look down and notice the bulge on his pants. It has been a while since we have done something. He put his hands behind your head and pulled you in for a kiss talking in between them.

"Your so so good for me" kiss "such a good kitten" kiss "god i missed you" kiss "gonna pound you dumb hmm you want that don't you"

Aizawa is a very calm, respectful and amazing man, but when it came to you he threw all that out the window. He made you cum more times than you could count. You were on your stomach with your ass up feeling every vein and thrust. His hands were on your lower back, your eyes rolled back from how hard he was fucking you. He leaned down right next to your ear, put his hands on your lower stomach, he could feel the imprint of his cock entering.

"Such a good little slutty houswife for me. This is what you wanted right dont worry master is here for you. Soon you will be filled with my cum to the brim then your little cunny will be full hmm. Aww is my baby too dumb to awnser me its okay"

Suddenly you were flipped. You sat in his lap, his back again your chest. He took both of your legs and put you in a full nelson position. He plunged his cock in you again and hard. You swear at that moment you saw stars. He fucked you even deeper and harder making you unable to think, you were babbling his name over and over again moaning like a bitch in heat.

"Yes yes yes oh YESSSSS im soooo closeree pleaseeee"

He kept fucking you hard. He could also feel his high approaching.

"Its okay kitten cum for me"

And you did cum hard, screaming, eyes rolled back. You could feel his seed filling you up for the 4th time tonight. You looked down and saw that you had a prominent bulge from all his cum. It was heaven.

"Cant wait to see you pregnant"

A/N: my asks are open for question and requestss. also thank you guys so much for all the support on my last fic.

NSFW Alphabet (Aizawa Shouta)

(NSFW obviously, Demi/Ace-Spectrum!Aizawa, fem!Reader, chubby!Reader)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sleepy (no surprise there) and cuddly, very soft. He'll help you clean up, get you anything you may need in that moment, and then he'll pull you into his arms and close his eyes. His voice is a groggy murmur, speaking with you in his half-asleep state, not bothered if you want to talk for a while, but not exactly trying to stay up for it, either.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes to watch his hands press into your soft flesh, the way you look so delicate against his scarred body. He likes to brush his stubbled jaw along your tender neck, the lightest of shivers he gets from you after doing that.

He favors your waist, which he likes to grab and give a soft squeeze while passing you in the house. He likes your thighs, how they clench around his head as he goes down on you, like you need him there. He likes your upper arms, running the back of his knuckles up and down them as you spare a few moments to talk in the morning. Your body is so soft, it's precious, decadent, he's in awe that he's allowed to touch you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes cumming inside of you. It hits on some sort of primal need in him that he's never experienced with a previous partner. Just you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Midnight made a joke that you should try wearing cat ears in the bedroom and Shouta hasn't stopped thinking about it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He has experience, enough to know what he's doing and what he likes. But he's found with you he has a bigger sexual appetite and he's found out even more about himself than he has with previous partners. He's greatly expanded his knowledge.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes positions where he can see your face and watch your expressions, where he can crowd in close to you and be flush up against you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not necessarily either. He's soft with you, more open, he's not so stoic that there's no room for laughter in the bedroom.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn't really trim any of his body hair, down below included, if it really bothers you, he'll probably do some basic maintenance.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's all about the intimacy when it comes to sex with you. Before you, sex was scratching an itch, with you, sex is another expression of his feelings for you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Occasionally jerks off in the shower if he feels the need, very disinterested about it. He's gotten into mutual masturbation with you, he loves watching you play with yourself, the way you react to him watching you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Body worship. He could spend hours appreciating your body if he could, running his hands over your soft curves, pressing kisses to your sensitive skin. He also loves eating pussy, your pussy specifically. All of his most intense desires revolve around you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom or the living room couch, because the post-sex nap spot is right there and ready to go.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You do. Sometimes you'll do the most innocuous thing and it'll just cause desire to bloom in him. If you look to him, express your want for him, your need, he reacts instantly.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's not a fan of pain play, especially inflicting the pain. He might be willing to try bondage with you but he refuses to bring the capture weapon into the bedroom. It's a tool for his job, and he doesn't want to bring that into his intimate life.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves giving oral, he could spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs. There's nothing more intimate and satisfying than giving you pleasure in this way and he's made sure over the course of your relationship that he's damn good at it. Honestly, he doesn't even need to be reciprocated, this could be the extent of your activities for the night and he'd be a happy man.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It varies, he's very much willing to go at your desired pace. He gets a lot out of the pleasure he gives you, so if you want faster, slower etc that works for him as well.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn't prefer them, he likes taking his time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's open to new ideas but slow to voice his own curiosities. He can take risks if properly motivated.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Shouta's pretty much a one and done kind of guy, but he makes it last. He spends a lot of time on foreplay and he's pretty good at holding off on his own orgasm. He makes sure that you're satisfied.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have any toys for himself but he likes to use toys on you and he likes watching you use toys on yourself. He likes getting you new toys and helping you shop for them, and helping you test them out, of course.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can get in a teasing mood sometimes, but he caves so easily when you whine and beg.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not too loud, lots of rumbling groans and cut off swears. He checks in with you a lot, wanting to know how you feel, what you need.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's somewhere on the ace spectrum, maybe demi. He's desperately attracted to you, and it's because it's you. He'd never thought much of the curve of a person's waist, but the curve of your waist will often catch his attention. He doesn't really question it, he doesn't spend a lot of time pondering labels. He's happy with you and that's what's important.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's got a thick cock of average length, not much of a grower, what you see is what you get. He's got a lot of body hair, you'd think he has some sort of werewolf quirk, and a littering of scars all over from his dangerous job. Rugged. He's muscular, of course, after all the training, but he's got a little bit of softness to him still. He's not strict with his diet and his exercise isn't to achieve a particular form.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He's got a moderate sex drive, but even on nights where he's not in the mood to receive pleasure, he can readily be spurred in the mood to give it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Very quickly, and eagerly. It's one of his favorite parts of the whole ordeal.

(Let me know if you want to see me do this or the SFW Alphabet for other MHA characters. Feel free to drop me an ask for headcanons or drabbles.)

He can definitely teach me a few things in person (≧◡≦) (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

❥ SHOTA AIZAWA X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: cam girl!reader, former student/teacher relationship (but you're still his ~favorite~), praise, mutual masturbation, sex toys, use of "good girl", lots of dirty talk, aizawa is a pervert and we all know it

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“Look how far you’ve come.” Shota loves how you still tremble at his praise, fingers faltering on the screen. “Remember when you used to be so shy? And now you’re just spreading your pussy open for me.” 

His gaze follows every movement, breath in his throat as you part your labia and slide your fingers down your folds.

He really thought it was just a rumor that the young generation of heroes had taken to social media to make money. Less villains meant less pay, sure, but he never thought he’d find you on one of his favorite sites, using the body he trained to stuff yourself with toys.

“You were always one of my favorites. Always such a good girl.” 

“I’m still a good girl, Sensei. Promise.”

You prove your point by smearing your fingers over your clit, moaning as your hips buck.

“Yeah? Then show me your face, sweetheart. Wanna fist my cock to every inch of you.”

It’s so wrong. He feels like a dirty old fuck in his bedroom, sweats shoved down to his knees and his laptop screen glowing in the dark on the bed next to him. His camera faces the muscles of his chest, angled just perfectly so you can see the dark trail of hair that leads down to his cock. The frame captures the pump of his bicep as he strokes his dick, yet he leaves it up to your imagination to piece together what’s happening off screen. 

“Then you have to show me your face too, okay?” 

There’s the nervousness he’s used to hearing crackle in your sweet voice. Always so studious, so sweet, the most pleasant of all the brats to deal with. You only ever wanted to please. 

He knew it was you by your bedspread in the thumbnail to your page. You still have the same pillows you used to have at U.A., all plush and girly with a memorable stuffie tucked off to the side.

“Maybe next time,” he offers, watching your tits heave and nipples tighten as you debate fulfilling his request. 

Your camera lens is focused from the bottom of your bed, allowing him the perfect view from your spread thighs to your delicate collarbone. You never show your face, not to anyone, not even in one-on-one chat rooms. He read your rules, but he’s special—he’s no scary stranger, just a perverted sicko who wants to watch his former student fuck herself for him.

He shouldn’t be doing this. But god he can’t help himself. He’s seen you flourish as a pro hero, tight suits and bright smiles to the public, and all he’s ever thought about is how fucking pretty you must look naked. 

“Then at least show me your cock, Sensei.”

You have got to stop calling him that. Yet his cock throbs and leaks at the honorific. 

“Fine.”

His simple answer is enough to convince you. You sit up on your knees on the bed and lean forward, making his mouth water as your breasts fill his screen. 

Shota strangles his cock in his fist as all of you comes into view. You raise the camera high enough to show your whole bed from an upward angle, letting him leer at you from head to toe. 

“Atta girl.” He groans as you lean back against your pillows with one hand anxiously running a finger over your lips. You stare right at him through his laptop screen and it makes his balls swell. “I’ve missed your pretty face.”

He watches how his words make you press your already sticky thighs together, like his voice shot straight down to your cunt.

“Oh yeah? Have you missed me, too? Do you think about your old Sensei?”

Moaning, you’re unashamed to slide your hand down your stomach, spreading your thighs so you can relieve the ache he’s building between your legs. 

“Mhmm, I do. Right now I’m thinking about what your cock looks like.” 

He’d almost forgotten his promise. Shota looks down at his length, sucking in a deep breath at the sight of himself swollen and drooling for you. He pumps himself a few times just to feel the pleasure, to gain the courage to drag the laptop with his free hand just enough to bring his dick into the picture.

A sharp little gasp from you echoes into his room and he’s suddenly far too self-satisfied. He admires how you writhe on your bed, pulling your knees up so he can once again see the full image of your wet pussy. 

“You’re so big,” you whisper like you mean it, like you’re wishing you had his cock in your hand instead of his. 

“You think I’d fit inside you, hm?” 

You’re like a curious cat eyeing him across the screen, lashes fluttering as you glance him over from base to tip. You must have a screen set up right next to your camera because your gaze is still meeting his as your head bobs up and down with the way he strokes his cock. 

“I dunno,” you moan as you spread your legs wider, two fingers dipping to prod at your hole, “you’re bigger than my toys.”

“And I bet that little cunt is so tight. Put your fingers in and show me.”

You still listen so obediently, just like when you were his student. 

He thumbs the head of his cock as he watches you sink two fingers into yourself, the microphone picking up the wet squish of your cunt. Your belly tightens with pleasure as you start to pump the digits into your pussy, slow at first and then picking up pace as your bliss builds. 

“Tell me what you would want me to do to you if I was there.”

There’s no filter for him now, not with your messy cunt filling his screen and your hand now plucking at your nipple. 

You take a moment to think, pretty head falling back to the pillows as you moan for him.

“Always wanted to kiss you, Sensei. Want to feel your hands all over me, ah,” you press the palm of your hand against your clit as you talk, making you nearly whine between breaths, “and I’d want your cock in my mouth.”

“You like sucking dick, sweetheart?” 

He starts matching the pace of his fist to your fingers, picturing his cock sliding between your plush, parted lips.

“I like having my face fucked,” you admit and it makes him groan. 

His noise spurs you on, makes you grab your tit and squeeze as your fingers move faster. 

“I’d love to slide my cock past your sweet lips and into your throat. Want you to gag on it, spit running down your face as I take what I want.” 

“Yes, want you to take what you want from me. Want you to use me, fill me up and fuck me with that fat cock, Sensei.” 

He nearly chokes at your words, blushing at how filthy your mouth is. He pumps himself faster, picturing having your soft body in his lap, your sloppy cunt sinking down onto him. 

“How do you want me to fuck you?” 

The moan that sounds from his laptop is so lovely, the slick sound of your fingers in your pussy making him shiver. 

“I can show you?” you ask more than state, pausing to look straight into the camera feed. “With a toy, I mean. Y-you can pick.” 

God, you’re such a delightful little minx. Shota squeezes the base of his cock as the mental image of you fucking yourself on a toy nearly topples him over the edge. He doesn’t know how he will handle actually viewing it. 

“Get your biggest dildo. Let’s see how it compares to me.” 

Any ounce of guilt he feels fades when you return to your bed with a purple, silicone cock, long and thick but not nearly as fat as the throbbing flesh he holds in his hand. 

“Guess you weren’t lying, were you, sweetheart? I’ll be the biggest thing that little pussy has ever taken.” 

Shota doesn’t care if he’s stepping beyond the realm of hypotheticals—he’ll get his hands on you, one way or another, all in due time. 

“Wanna see how I want you to fuck me?” you ask with the cutest smile, like you’re hiding such a naughty secret. 

“Show me. Fuck yourself for me, tell me every little thing I’m doing to you.”

He props an arm behind his head to get comfortable, the muscles of his abs and lats rippling in the dim light of the screen. He threads his fingers through his long hair and tugs the moment he sees you turn and get on your knees, bending until you’re in the most sinful doggy position he’s ever seen. 

“You start slow,” your voice drops to a sensual note, thick like honey, “cause you want me to feel every inch go inside me.”

The hand wrapped around his cock is moving before he can even think to stop, squeezing hard as he watches you reach around your body and start pushing the dildo between your pussy lips. 

Shota gets too close to the screen, strands of black hair grazing the edge of the camera, face still out of sight. His gaze scans from corner to corner, watching as if he intends to commit every single detail to memory. 

Your pussy sucks in the tip of the dildo, making you mewl, and slowly, torturously, you shove the length of it into your hole. 

“How do I feel?” 

“So good, want you to move, want you to fuck me hard.” 

You take the initiative to start bouncing the dildo in your pussy, sliding it in and out, building speed. The sound is licentious, wet, all mixed together with the short, airy moans you let out with every push into your body. Slick is starting to build on the silicone, creamy and thick. 

“Do you always get so wet or is it just for me?”

“All for you, Sensei. Cause you feel so good, you fuck me like I’ve always wanted.” 

Shota smears his thumb through the pre-cum freshly leaking from his cock, using it as lubricant as he starts a brutal pace on himself. He can hear the repetitive slap of his wrist hitting his thigh echo into the laptop microphone.

“That right? You’re a dirty girl for wanting to fuck her teacher.” 

“You’re so good to me, you rub my clit just how I like it.” 

He examines how one of your hands reaches under your body, two dainty fingers swirling around your clit before kneading it quickly, like you’re just so desperate to cum for him. 

The strokes he gives his cock are furious, other hand now coming down to cup his balls and roll them in his palm. His stomach flexes at the pleasure, picturing how that perfect cunt of yours would be squeezing him so tightly. 

“You wanna cum for me? Wanna cum all over your Sensei’s cock?”

“Please,” you groan into the sheets, hips now bucking with the pace of the dildo slamming into you, “will you let me cum? You said I’m such a good girl? Ah, ah, one of your favorites?” 

“Always my favorite, sweetheart. Show me how you cum, let me see you make a mess of yourself.”

Your knuckles are tight against the base of the dildo, using all your strength to fuck into yourself. You’re so close to the edge, panting, whining, hole stretched and practically weeping around the purple silicone. 

“You know I’ll fuck you faster, right? Harder. Just wait until I get my hands on you.”

Your tongue falls loose, “Want your hands on my hips, want you to spank me, oh god, pull my hair, kiss me and fuck me and tell me I’m all yours.” 

“You’re gonna cum for me, scream for me, all for me, got it?” 

He can see the way your head shakes on the bed, mascara dripping down the side of your face that he can see. Tears are in your lashes, your lip caught between your teeth, and even still you’re looking back for him, watching him tug and pull his cock with your name in his mouth. 

“God you’re so hot, your cock’s so big—”

A beautiful, strangled noise comes out of you as you finally come apart, your cunt clamping down around the dildo and your motions stilling. You scream into the mattress, all high-pitched and fucked out. Slick squelches from your stuffed hole, dripping down your thighs. 

With the scene before him, it only takes a few more pumps before he’s unloading, cum spurting out over his knuckles and up onto his stomach, rope after rope spilling out for you.

His room goes quiet, his pants and your whiny breaths the only sound he hears over the pounding of his heart. 

Finally, you shift on your bed, and he does his best not to look at the mess he’s made in his hand.

“Um,” you awkwardly clear your throat, looking away from him as you slide the dildo from your cunt. He can’t help but watch the way your pussy lips drag along the length. 

The post-nut clarity hits him like a steam roller. His clean hand grabs his laptop, ready to shut the screen and pretend none of this ever transpired except in the guilty pit of his daydreams—

“Shota,” you mumble, sitting on your knees and holding your body, “this was, uh, well really…hot. I…I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

His ears perk, unsure if he’s ever heard you call him by his first name. 

Before he changes his mind, he drags the laptop on his bed until the camera catches his face. You blink so prettily at the sight of him, dropping one of your hands from your breast like you’re just so comfortable seeing him. 

“Next time will be in person.” 

You give him the most genuine little smile, “Promise?”

Hit by a quirk?! NSFW

Aizawa x male!reader

Contents: Aizawa’s girlfriend is hit by a quirk and comes home a little different… her body has become that of a man’s… But it doesn’t seem like Aizawa particularly minds. He’s happy to teach her all sorts of things.

MDNI — 18+ CONTENT — she/her used

“Aizawa!” A familiar, yet different voice called. Aizawa turned around to see his girlfriend… is it her?

“Sweetheart…? Is that you…?!” He said, mildly confused. Though she had looked mostly the same and she was wearing her hero costume, it seemed her body was a bit different.

“It’s me, Aizawa… I got hit by a quirk. The effects won’t go away.” She looked at him with pleading eyes, “can you try your quirk on me? Maybe it’ll go away…?”

He tried, but to no avail. She was stuck.

“What exactly… happened…?” He asked, eyes trialing down to see her lack of chest and new found bulge.

“This villain had the worst quirk… he turned me into a man!” She said, almost in the brink of tears. He walked over, still in his uniform, and hugged her.

“We’ll figure this out.” He guided her to their room so she could get out of her hero costume that didn’t fit her anymore. He was in disbelief. His sweetheart of nearly ten years had become a man? He was still processing this, and didn’t seem to be bothered yet. He helped her remove her hero costume to find she was telling the truth. She no longer had breasts, but rather a flat chest.

“Don’t look at me like that…” She blushed.

“…..” He didn’t respond, he merely continued to undress his girlfriend. He removed her pants to see the bulge in her panties. She quickly covered it and looked up at him with a blush.

“I have….something different now…” she blushed. He nodded and tossed her suit aside.

“We’ll find a solution.” He said and pulled her in for a hug. He could feel her erect member pressing against him. A blush came across his face as he felt a familiar heat in his stomach. He pulled back to look at her only for his body to heat up more. Her expression was so lewd. Her shoulders were raised and her cheeks were so pink, clearly she felt aroused.

“I’m so hot… please, touch me…” She begged and pulled him in for a kiss. Aizawa kissed back, not knowing if he should refuse her. They hadn’t spoken about the new circumstances enough for him to feel comfortable diving into sex, but it felt so good. He kissed her soft, wet lips and held the small of her back. He let out a soft moan into the kiss.

“Will you… help me out…?” She asked when they broke the kiss. She couldn’t help but push him back onto the bed and climb right on top.

“She’s acting a little differently… she’s being forward..” Aizawa thought to himself. It felt different, but she was still his sweetheart. Any touch from her was enough to make him hard. His body was aroused, and his own member had grew.

She then began to kiss his neck, sucking his adams apple and thoughtlessly grinding her hips against his. He laid there, unsure what to do, but he felt hot. He tipped his head back and enjoyed the feeling of her rubbing her member against his. He never thought of himself as being into men, but… now that she had a dick, he wasn’t against it. If it was her, he was okay with it.

Her grinding hips didn’t stop. She only became more vocal as she went. Aizawa hadn’t felt this turned on in a while. He couldn’t help but move his own hips against hers.

“Let’s go… further.” He groaned out in a desperate tone. It didn’t take long for him to unbuckle his pants and retrieve his hard member. She looked unsure what to do with hers. She hadn’t seen it before now, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. Aizawa noticed her hesitance and pulled her panties down for her. Her member sprang out and she panicked and grabbed it.

“It’s so… hard….” She said while holding it, looking at him with a cutely embarrassed face.

“Fuck… she’s so cute, I don’t think I can hold back much longer.” Aizawa though to himself when he saw his cute girlfriend holding her cock in her hands while sitting over him.

He guided her hips down and placed his dick against hers. The size difference was large. Aizawa’s dick was thicker and longer than hers, but neither of them seemed to mind.

Her body quivered as she felt the sensation of his dick against hers. She had a hard time not pulling back from how sensitive it was.

“Like this…” He said and began to jerk the two off together. He gripped them firmly, jerking them off slowly. He noticed a decent amount of pre cum on her tip and smirked. She was really into this.

Her hips moved with his as she felt herself coming closer to a climax. She hadn’t ever felt this sensitive this easily, so she couldn’t help but enjoy the pleasure he was giving her. She finally looked down at what was happening and it only made her throb harder. His dick was big, and the veins on it were thicker than usual. He was so horny.

“I think I might…” She didn’t finish her sentence. She continued to move faster and came shortly after. Thick ropes of cum shot out and landed on Aizawa’s stomach, and even his chin. She blushed deeply when she noticed how far it went. She didn’t realize how far the cum would shoot, so she didn’t take any measures to prevent it.

“I’m sorry… it got all over you…. I…” She panicked and sat up a bit, looking for tissues. She looked back at Aizawa who had a smirk on his face. He wiped the cum off his chin with his thumb and proceeded to lick it. A low groan came out of his chest as he did so, and he pulled her back down to allow himself to finish. He rubbed his dick against hers faster. This time, he pressed it between her thighs and under her balls. He moved his hips quickly, feeling the warmth between her legs. He let out a low moan as he fucked her thighs. The pressure built up and he came between her legs.

“Fuck…” He said and let go of her hips.

Thinking About…

… Thinking about how Aizawa loves his hair being pulled. He loves it so much that he overstimulates you until you pull his hair trying to pull him off with what little strength you have left about being brought to the edge over and over for hours. It was his day off after all, how else would he spend it if its not spent with you crying on his cock for hours at a time switching between begging for more and pleading for release.

How To Make Two Lovers Of Friends

Words: 11,569

Synopsis:

Aizawa is taking a much-needed break after the war with Shigaraki and All For One. He isn't looking for anything in particular; that is, until he spots you in a goth themed coffee house. A whirlwind romance ensues in this one shot, filled to the brim with sexual tension, fluff, and smut.

Alternative/goth fem! Reader

Fair warning, this one is the first fic I'd ever written, so it isn't my best work. It does hold a special place in my heart though and I hope it's enjoyable for someone!

Morning light came dappled through the windows as you took your favorite seat at the coffee house, just like you did every morning to start your day. This coffee shop went by the name Bauhaus; probably a nonsequedor to most, but a familiar homage to a band for you. It had this witchy aesthetic, filled with books and old vinyls that made you feel at peace. You never really saw places like this when you still lived in America, at least not in your neck of the woods. How absolutely lucky that you lived just a few blocks away!

You ordered yourself the special for this month: The Headless Horseman, an iced pumpkin and caramel breve to celebrate the upcoming fall season, a welcome respite from the August heat. Smoothing away the creases on your black velvet dress, you thanked the barista, who you typically made small talk with but were not quite on a first name basis with just yet, and took your seat once again to finish reading your book. The leaves rattled in the wind outside and rapped against the building like old bones in a wooden sarcophagus.

"A storm is coming soon," you say quietly to yourself.

Gentle thunder thrums in the distance like the soft beating of a lambskin drum, and a small grin makes itself at home on your lips.

Perfect reading weather.

Adjusting yourself on the bench beneath your legs, your mouth curved at the edges, eliciting a slight hum from your lips. 

Ah. 

Spooky, scary peace.

Outside the confines of the coffee house, though, the weather was much less enjoyable. The heroes Eraserhead and Present Mic both trudged through heavy raindrops, soaked like wet dogs, caught off guard by the sudden change in weather. Aizawa scowled at his mess of dark hair getting drenched.

"Damn, this weather is nasty!" Said Mic, voice unintentionally booming.

He looked around and scouted for shelter as the thunder rolled, and settled on the closest bit of light he could see, pointing his finger at Bauhaus so as to motion for Aizawa to head that way.

They stopped at the overhang to dry off a bit before entering when Aizawa got a peek inside the shop. He took note of the band posters and bookshelves littering the walls, the violet-hued plants hanging from the ceiling and shelves, the generally alternative vibe that exuded from the place.

"I don't know, Hizashi," he stated hesitantly, shifting his weight to his good leg.

"What's the big deal? It's not like you'll look out of place," Hizashi was frank, opening the door with no apprehension. He gave a quick chuckle that sounded like taps on a hot microphone.

It was true, Aizawa typically dressed in all black. Now that he was taking a break, though, he didn't always have his capture weapon on him. He was instead accompanied by a patch over his eye and a prosthetic leg. He felt like he usually stood out like a sore thumb these days, which was problematic for someone who had always tried to keep such a low profile in the past.

Aizawa fiddled with his eyepatch and thought about how nice it would be to blend in once more. He had always tried to stay out of the spotlight, but after the intense battle with Shigaraki, it was harder to avoid the media. Maybe a place like this wasn't such a bad idea. He continued to zone out as Mic spoke much too loudly for the space they were in, as usual, and talked (mostly to himself) about if he should get a coffee or a smoothie.

Aizawa grew slightly embarrassed by his friend's actions as he looked around the room to see if his boisterous voice was bothering the other patrons. It was 6am, still early, so Bauhaus was lingering with the vestiges of sleep, waking with the rest of Musutafu. There was a green haired person on their laptop in the back corner, tucked away, uninvolved in the rest of the shop and seemingly unbothered. Empty seats. A full cup on a table that meant someone would be right back.

Then there was you.

Right beneath the window seat near the front of the shop, a purple vining plant hanging above you, crushed velvet bell sleeves rested upon the table as your fingers gripped the pages of a well-worn copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. Your face was aglow like the moon, scattered with a few freckles that danced across rosy cheeks, long lashes that arched over your half-lidded eyes. The bass of the music swelling over the speakers seemed to engulf Aizawa, thumping in his head, your silken locks being brushed to settle behind your ear as his mouth suddenly dried.

Then, as if on que, you looked up at him just in time for him to hear "oh Lucretia, my reflection", and everything seemed to stand still. He could feel his pulse in his fingertips. You had these gorgeous doe eyes, these pouty little lips that gave a gamine smile to him while he held his gaze for much too long, he was sure of it. You were a vision. A blooming Queen Of The Night. A siren out in the storm.

"Quit staring at her and tell me what you want to drink!"

Aizawa was snapped out of his delusion. Flustered at the comment, he groaned, his eye twitching. Unwilling to break the eye contact with you just yet, your smile grew, and you exchanged glances with him again, causing pink heat to bloom over his face. You sat down your book and made your posture more swanlike as you maintained eye contact with him. His breath hitched at this.

You snuck looks at him for the rest of the time the two were in the shop. You weren't enough of a go-getter to approach him--nor were you brave enough to blatantly ask him out--but you really hoped that maybe he would come in again.

————

As mortified as he was by Mic's statement, he knew he had to try to see you again.

Not because he wanted to get to know you or anything.

No.

You just seemed... interesting. You seemed interesting and he felt very comfortable in Bauhaus. In fact, it probably had very little to do with you at all. He was more than likely just transferring these feelings of comfort onto you. After all, it's been a while since he's been able to go out and not feel like he was the one being stared at.

Yes.

This is rational.

This is why he needed to go back. You were just there by happenstance.

Every single weekday morning--and on weekends when he wasn't watching Eri--for an entire month, he was at the shop.

That's just how comfortable he was there. That's how good their plain black coffee was. That's what it meant to have a routine.

It was just a coincidence that he couldn't help but to notice you.

You were always there in that same cozy nook. Some days you were dressed in a band t-shirt and jeans. Some days you were in a plaid skirt and combat boots. Some days you were in a mossy green dress that went to the floor. Some days you wore causal yoga pants that were surely comfortable but made him sweat like a sinner in church. He never knew what exactly he would see you in next, but it was usually the same kind of style. And you always had a book to read, which Aizawa greatly admired. You were studious and attentive with your literature, but also a little bit goofy, judging by the laughter between you and the barista when you picked up your drinks.

But he had also come to find that you were very kind. Although you didn't appear to be a hero, you helped in other ways. You would pay for people's orders if they didn't have enough to cover their purchase. Twice, he watched you pay for the food of a homeless man, and then you sat with this man as an equal, outside on the curb, as the two of you ate breakfast sandwiches and talked. You were softspoken and gentle in your manner of speech, making him feel as though you were reading him to sleep as you talked between bites of food.

He noticed you had the biggest soft spot for animals, though.

You would watch out the window at around 6:15 to see if your little cat friend would show up that day. You would give them a drink of water from your own bottle and cap, offer them bits of bread and meat, and coo at them in a lovely sing-song voice as they ate. The cat didn't want to be touched, they were scarred and matted all to hell; but you were patient every single time. What a beautiful soul you seemed to have.

Aizawa was normally pessimistic, but you made him feel hopeful in humanity. He was certain that you had flaws, as people do, but your acts of kindness always made sure he had a good start to his day. He was always ready to protect you if you ever needed it. The world could use more good people, after all.

One morning in particular, as Aizawa picked up his drink, he noticed a man lazily stroll up to you at your regular nook. This happened to you every so often now that you were in Japan. You were approached by men, and very occasionally other women, maybe a handful of times in your entire life back in the United States. Your best guess is that here you were considered "exotic" since you looked different from most. You almost never saw someone with features like yours, and you were certainly taller than most of the women here, with noticeably longer limbs; all things that weren't exactly beauty standards in America but seemed to garner attention in Japan.

Unfortunately, the attention wasn't usually the kind that you enjoyed, and this guy was no different. He was dressed in an athletic shirt and basketball shorts. Not that you were one to judge, because hell, sometimes you showed up in pastels if the mood so struck you. People weren't bound to the confines of fashion. However, in your experience, men dressed in this clothing who came into Bauhaus tended to be... unsavory. Usually someone looking to fulfill their fetishes.

"Ooo, Cara Mia," he taunted as he approached you.

An Addams Family reference would have otherwise been right up your alley, but when he said the quote, it felt icky somehow. You knew he had to have kept this line in his back pocket regardless of who he came across, anyway. You were in a long sleeved sheer top with a lavender camisole and pair of black bell bottoms. More Stevie Nicks than Morticia Addams. So you did the rational thing and ignored him. You weren't there to be someone's Big Tiddy Goth Girlfriend.

He didn't like that much.

"Hey. I'm talking to you," he spat his words at you with barely concealed contempt.

"I heard you," you flicked your eyes up at him sharply.

Aizawa's body tensed in preparation to spring into action, taking a step forward in your direction. Who the fuck did this guy think he was?

"I was just being nice. Not like anyone else is going to talk to your ugly old ass," his words were meant to bite at you, but you didn't budge.

"Old? Why, because I dared to live past 16? God, you are disgusting," you sat down your book and shook your head disapprovingly, "creeps like you are always projecting your own insecurities. How sad for you. Fuck off,"

He looked shocked, furious, like he was about to scream something in your face--but stopped abruptly when you started to hum. It was a haunting melody, something akin to a nocturne.

"I think you should go now," you stated plainly.

With this, the man walked out the door in what appeared to be a fugue-like state. And you calmly went back to your book.

Huh. Maybe you didn't need Aizawa's protection.

You just kept getting more and more intriguing.

On his fourth straight week of coming in, a Friday in early September, you decided to finally talk to him since it seemed like you were both regular patrons of the shop now. You made sure to finger-comb your hair before you turned to look at him. He was in his usual black on black sweatpants and sweatshirt, this time with his hair pulled back to reveal his jawline. He was very handsome, you thought.

"Hey there, you," you said after he placed his order of a single black coffee.

He turned around, a bit shocked at the sudden start of such a casual conversation.

"I see you in here a lot lately. I'm not sure if you have the time, but would you like to come sit with me?"

You smiled delicately in an attempt to seem welcoming.

"It would be nice to have some company for a change," you say.

His dark eye bore into you like a bullet coming straight for your gaze. After a moment of collecting his words, he finally settled on replying back:

"Yeah, sure. That would be fine,"

Aizawa tried his best to remain calm and cool, stoic even, refusing to let something so nonchalant shake him.

However, truth be told, you felt a bit shaken yourself. You weren't sure if he would accept your offer or reject it and then stop coming in. You could be so straightforward sometimes, and you felt like you could accidentally make things awkward. But you had a feeling he might at least be interested in getting to know you after your initial interaction with him.

You introduce yourself as you stirred your latte with a tiny silver spoon.

"Shota Aizawa," he gave in return.

"Nice to finally meet you," you say with a slight tease in your inflection and a mischievous look.

A blush crept across his face. God, of course you remembered when you two first saw one another. It felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles thinking about it.

"Do you like sitting under the stars?" You ask to cut the silence.

Aizawa looked perplexed. It seemed like an odd thing to ask him. Maybe you liked the outdoors?

"I've never actually been camping. Never really seemed that fun to me," he was eager to continue talking to you, though he wasn't sure exactly why.

You had this glint in your eye, like you knew the punchline to a joke you hadn't even told yet, along with a playful smile. Setting down your cup, you pointed up. That's when he noticed that the ceiling was matte black and painted with silver glittering stars.

"It's one of my favorite things about coming here," you disclosed this information to him, almost as if it were a secret.

It was then that he knew for sure that you weren't like most people.

You two met like this, discussing books and hobbies and music, for another month and a half. Every morning at 6am you could expect to see him waiting at Bauhaus for you, rain or shine. You would get some kind of breve or latte and he would get a strongly brewed black coffee. Sometimes you spoke for an hour before one of you had to go, sometimes you two were there until you were both hungry for lunch. Although the days all started at Bauhaus, occasionally, the day would take the two of you to a nearby ramen shop, a corner store, or a short walk down the block. Anywhere you wanted to go, he was there.

————

He now knew that you liked horror movies and would read just about anything you could get your hands on, that you loved animals, you moved here two years ago to help with the mental health crisis in Japan as a grief counselor, and you thoroughly enjoyed humor.

You came to know that he liked cats, was a teacher, liked the smell of rain, he was generally pretty introverted, read comic books as a kid, and had a liking for dark jokes. He had mentioned that he was a hero, a pro hero actually, when the shop was empty one morning. You said that was "so cool" and beamed with pride that you knew him, but you seemed unfamiliar with the Erasure Hero.

You continued to treat him exactly the same.

This was mesmerizing to Aizawa.

Today was one of the days that stretched on like a sleeping cat in a sunny patch. You'd already met once in the morning, breaked for work, and then met again in the late evening. The golden-hour sun was pouring in its warm light, backing you like some kind of seraphem, and painting him in a spreading halo of honeyed peach. The way the flecks of rainbow from the slanted glass flitted over his skin bewitched you.

And you, there at your place, drenched in marigold light that kissed down upon your flawless skin, made him shudder. Your eyes nearly glowed in the light. You appeared fragile, breakable, like spun glass; though he knew you were sturdier than your languid demeanor would let on.

He stuffed down the feelings he was starting to have for you like a snake eating a too large mouse. This was more than just lust, infatuation, or attraction. As scary as it was, he liked you. The butterflies stirred in his belly when you called his name from your window nook and the moths fluttered in yours when he said "I thought I might find you here, y/n," with the slightest upturn of his mouth. You were both nervous about this tension that was building between the two of you, but he was more reserved, whereas you tended to wear your heart on your sleeve. You knew that you would have to be the one to address it.

"Aizawa," you say to him, circling the rim of your cup with your fingertip as you place your other hand in front of his on the table, "I have some errands to run tomorrow... would you maybe want to come with me? It can be hard for me to carry heavy things all the way into my place on my own, and I really want to get some pumpkins to carve,"

This seemed utilitarian enough that he might feel more at ease accepting the invitation, but still deliciously domestic.

Aizawa felt the breath leave his lungs. Going to a pumpkin patch? Carving pumpkins? Like a cute little date?

"You don't have to, if you don't have the time," you stated reassuringly.

"Oh, no. It's nothing like that," His voice broke as he uttered out an answer, "I can go. I'll make the time if I don't have it,"

"Great! Can we meet up around 10?"

"I'll be there,"

"You always are,"

The air hung around the two of you with a lightness for a few seconds. Aizawa could see his reflection in your big glass-like eyes, causing his heart to beat wildly in his chest. You gave a small laugh, crinkling your nose, very aware of the closeness of your faces. He felt like maybe he should kiss you. But did you even like him that way? You could just be friendly and kissing you would be a huge mistake. Everything would come crashing down if he did that. Your trust would be gone. You would be gone. He couldn't take that risk.

But oh, how you wanted him to lean in and touch his lips to your own. You wondered how his stubble would feel against your skin, and if he would taste like that black coffee he was always sipping on. A knot formed in your stomach, this familiar aching, a longing, a fear of the unknown feelings he had for you, and excitement that he might feel the same way. How long had it been since you felt this way? Was it ever this intense?

You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, your heart racing. You could feel that something was bubbling up. Something was about to happen. You were going to lean in closer when the door to the coffee house flew open, and in walked Hizashi.

"I thought I'd find you here, Eraser! You sure love this place lately!" His voice nearly shook the entryway.

Tension gone.

Goodbye, mood.

Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, fully aware that Mic was about to say something daft.

"Watcha got here?" Mic asked enthusiastically, gesturing toward you with a gloved hand, "Shota, do you have a girlfriend you never told me about?"

Fucking Mic.

Aizawa looked pale, sick even.

Of course he wanted you to be his girlfriend. Especially when he was about to go to sleep, or saw some stuffed animal he knew you would like, or when he was in the shower and thinking of how he'd like to see those sultry eyes looking up at him as you put your mouth on his...

"Hizashi, for someone who's entire Quirk is based on sound, you are so damn tonedeaf," Aizawa cut his thoughts loose with this retort.

"Woah, easy there," Mic continued, "I didn't mean to ruffle any feathers. If you guys aren't hooking up, how about I shoot my shot then?" He waggled his brows at you.

Aizawa gritted his teeth and his eye twitched. Like a deer in the headlights, stunned at this brazen show of complete and total assclownery, he sat still in his seat as Hizashi made fools of them both. The lanky devil just didn't know when to stop tap dancing on his last nerve.

Present Mic leaned over the table as you furrowed your brow in response.

"Wanna see why they call me Magic Mic?" He gave a wide grin with this question.

You made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.

"Why, did I pique your interest when you saw me bathing on the roof? Did my beauty and the moonlight overthrow you?"

"Bathing on the roof, you say!" Another waggle.

"Careful there, Sisyphus. That boulder's heavier than it looks," you chime back, scribbling something on a napkin.

Aizawa was amused at your quip. It was impressive how quick on your feet you were in conversation, and how well you handled yourself. He knew that Mic was blabbering on in the background, something about alternative chicks and their spicy attitudes, but he couldn't concentrate on anything other than you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Aizawa," you stated while getting up from your seat, "here's my number. Text me and I'll send you my address so you can meet me at my place, okay?"

Aizawa swallowed the lump in his throat and then nodded in agreement. He took the napkin in his hand and noticed you put a little heart next to your number.

Fuck.

Please let this be a date.

————

The next morning, at 10am sharp, Aizawa reached the front door to your apartment. He didn't even need to look at the number when he saw the fall wreath, covered in leaves and mini pumpkins, suspended from its metal hook. He slicked back his raven hair with his palms, attempting to keep his locks captured in a ponytail, all the while his stomach churned in anticipation. He gave a knock at the door, and you were there almost immediately. Had you been waiting for him?

In reality, yes, you had been. You were ready by 9:30 and then paced around your room before you sat by the door and waited for him to show up. You gave him a big grin as you greeted him, admiring his forearms with his sleeves rolled up. You looked him over, half covered in the shade of your awning, hair pulled back, his trim figure cut well in his dark jeans and gray sweater. Oh my god, he even shaved! That was so cute to you. He shaved for your pumpkin patch adventure. You swooned and felt that tension in your belly build back up. It made you feel like a teenager again, having a crush like that. You kicked at some rocks on your porch in a bashful display.

God how he wanted to put his hands on you when he saw you stepping out of your doorway. You were wearing a burnt orange sundress, a black cardigan with pumpkins lining the bodice, thigh high black pantihose, with black Mary Janes and a wide-brimmed felt hat. You always knew what flattered your figure, what colors brought out your eyes and complimented your skintone. He felt so typical, like such a stereotype, because that sundress was doing something for him.

"You okay with me driving?" You asked, taking a step closer to him.

He tensed at the prospect of being touched by you, and nodded in agreement. Grabbing your keyfob, you pressed twice to start your vehicle, a completely black car with darkly tinted windows. It was very bold, very dark, and very you.

"You can mess with the volume however you'd like. I don't mind," you told him as you started flipping through your music on the car's touchscreen radio.

Aizawa took note of how eclectic your music was. You seemed to like songs with lots of bass and rumble, and you listened to plenty of Sisters of Mercy, but you also had music that took him off guard: hyper-pop, musical numbers, heavy metal--a smorgasbord of songs on a hodgepodge of a playlist. He could never quite pin you down. As soon as he thought he knew your next move, you pulled an Uno Reverse card, and it was enthralling. He liked a challenge.

He was captured by you as you settled on Love Me by The 1975 and enthusiastically sang along to every word, miming exaggerated faces when the beat picked up. You rolled the windows down and threw your hat in the back seat to feel the wind through your hair.

You glanced over at him briefly as you sang, smiling, glowing, just letting loose with him in a way that felt more intimate than he would've imagined a car ride could feel. Your hair flipped, twisting around your face in the breeze.

He noticed how careful you were with your car, how gingerly you braked at stoplights, and joked "I think my grandpa might actually drive faster than you do,"

"Hey," you replied "I pay a lot of money for this car," you felt a bit embarrassed tagging on the next part of "besides.. it's important to follow traffic laws."

He couldn't help but admire how pragmatic you were about this. You were so soft. Willing to stand up for yourself, but always making sure everyone else was safe. You had a hero heart.

You went back to singing to music, this time Can't Hold Me by Emily King. You always seemed so in your element when music was involved.

"You have a really nice voice," Aizawa stated without thinking. It rolled off of his tongue in an easy sort of way that didn't normally come naturally to him.

"Oh, thanks. It's part of my quirk I guess,"

"You have a quirk?" It was more of a statement than a question. He was pretty positive he'd already seen your quirk in action.

"Well, yeah; but I don't use it much. It's one of those quirks that when you tell people about it they think you're a villain," your voice trailed off a bit and he looked at you with one raised brow.

A sigh escaped your lips.

"If I sing a certain melody, I can make people do whatever I want. They become really pliable and easy to manipulate. But I can only use it on one person at a time, and it's only the one song, and you would know if I was using it," you tried your best to make sure he knew you weren't using it to make him talk to you, or to make him come with you today.

"Quirks are what you make of them. And I don't think that you would ever purposefully hurt someone, y/n. You're better than that,"

On impulse, upon parking the car at the pumpkin patch, you grabbed his hand with Eat Sleep Wake by Bombay Bicycle Club playing softly in the background. The first real physical contact you two had that wasn't accidental. It was warm, and sweet, and electric. Breathing felt like there was a weight on your chest when you realized what happened, and it caught in your throat when he squeezed your hand back.

Eat.

Sleep.

Wake.

Nothing but you.

God, please just kiss me, you thought. Kiss me. Better yet, take me into this pumpkin patch and peel these pantihose off with your teeth. You were getting to the point where all of this constant winding you up had you wanting him to fuck you absolutely stupid.

Aizawa felt warm, feverish. Like he was going to melt through the seat of the car and burn to cinders on the ground. He was smoldering like a pile of ash in your hand. Goddamn it was hard to concentrate now. Where was he at? Was there a world around the two of you? Did he even care? He wasn't sure if it was right to think of you like this, though, and it happened nearly every day since meeting you. That part of him had been lying dormant for what felt like years and now suddenly these feelings were coming for him with a vengeance. He wasn't sure what to do.

"We should.. we should grab some pumpkins. Do you... like the lumpy ones?"

Shit. Did he really just ask you that? God, you must have thought he was stupid.

But you didn't. You were eating this up.

"Dude. I love me a lumpy pumpkin," was your reply.

The two of you took in the crisp autumn air and October's bright blue sky as you sipped on a warm apple cider from the drink stand. Much to his initial disapproval, you finally got him to take a sip from your cup. His heart skipped a beat drinking from the same spout where your mouth had been just a few seconds prior. You took two small pumpkins from the display they had on top of some hay bales, slipped them into a big burlap tote bag, and then headed to the field to pick out bigger pumpkins for carving.

"Do you think frogs have friends?"

"I... what?"

He wasn't sure if you were being genuine with this question.

"Well, cows make friends, and.. I don't know, I was just thinking about how maybe when frogs start to get ready for the cold weather, they find another frog that they like, and then they hibernate next to them in the mud," your statement was matter-of-fact, "or I guess technically the frogs we have here go into a state of topor, not full hibernation. But still,"

Aizawa was taken aback at this topic. You were actually wondering about the loneliness of amphibians.

"Y/n, I don't think frogs get lonely. I doubt they have high enough brain functioning to care,"

"Or maybe they do, and we'll never know, because nobody stopped to find out,"

He enjoyed that you always spoke your mind. Even if someone didn't like what you had to say, you just started a conversation based on whatever thoughts you had in your head. You were smart, but whimsical. It was so easy to talk to you and have a logical dialogue without feeling like it was getting stale.

You kicked at rocks, marveled at the fall leaves, and had this general sense of wonder. Aizawa found it fascinating how dichotomous you were. You were kind of mysterious, but you still had this youthful charm about you. He found himself to be more apathetic than anything. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't see the beauty in the things around him, he just didn't tend to pay attention at all. He was always burning the candle at both ends and pushing himself to his absolute limits, so what was the point? Who cared of frogs had friends?

"I wish I shared your passion for life," he commented.

"My grandparents were like this, and they raised me, so I guess it rubbed off. Actually, they're kind of why I came here. My grandpa always spoke about how beautiful Okinawa was. After they passed, I jumped at the opportunity to come see Japan for myself,"

You hadn't talked about anything that wasn't skin deep in what seemed like an eternity, and you felt like he was really listening, processing your words.

"Oh!" You stopped in your tracks, "I can't believe I forgot to give you this,"

From the bottom of your burlap sack, you pulled out a bag of salty black licorice.

"This is for you,"

His favorite snack.

Aizawa reached out his hand and took it delicately, as if it were precious to him.

"How did you know?"

"I saw you eyeing some once at a corner store. When I saw they had some here, I had to get it for you. They make it in house, so I bet it's delicious!" You sounded so excited over a bag of licorice.

Feeling a bit silly over frogs and candy, you blushed, cheeks already slightly ruddy from all of the walking.

"But we should probably go back to picking out some pumpkins, I guess," your words came out much smaller than you intended them to.

His heart swelled. You were paying attention to him, too.

The gourds were all shapes and sizes, all the colors from striking persimmon to pale yellow, from perfectly round to as lumpy as the night was long.

Clearly, you picked the lumpiest.

Loading your goods into the car, a flash of color at another stand caught Aizawa's eye.

"You stay here. I'll be right back," he commanded.

"Okay. Just let me know if you want any help,"

The stand was full of handmade trinkets: wooden hair combs, decorative mirrors with widdled handles, and silk kimonos. One garment stood out to him--emerald green with goldenrod flowers patterned over it--that, for some reason, made him think of frogs. This would do nicely.

Upon his return, he found that he really wasn't sure how to give you a gift. This was certainly not his forte. He couldn't even remember the last time he gave someone a present. Then again, he couldn't recall that last time he had received one before this day, either. Besides, you were worth the uncomfortability.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't form. You looked slightly amused, which made him even more nervous.

"I have something for you. To repay you for the gift you gave me earlier," his voice uttered out much smaller than he remembered.

The joy that spread from cheek to cheek was practically tangible for him as he handed you the paper bag. Your eyes were alight like fireworks.

"You got me a present?"

You felt a fluttering in your chest. You didn't even care what it was, he explicitly thought of you, and that made you happy in earnest.

The container was compact enough that you figured there was some kind of candy to be retrieved from it, but you opened it to see green and yellow fabric. You were stunned when you recognized it from the stand you two had passed on your way out. It had to have been expensive.

"Aizawa.. this is too much. I-I can't accept this," you stammered.

"Yes you can. Like I said, it's for the licorice,"

"This isn't exactly in the same category as candy, though, I--"

"Just try it on," he interrupted you, his hand raised as if to stop any further protesting.

And you thought about protesting--you really did--but caved, knowing he wouldn't give up until you accepted it. Your attempts to dispute his gift would be futile. So you marveled at the silk garment, feeling its slick material between your fingers. You'd never owned something like this before. You took off your cardigan and draped the kimono over your body, savoring how soft and airy it was on your skin, feeling like a princess.

"I'm not sure if this is a color you like, so if you don't like it, we can go exchange it," his voice had a hushed tone.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"No. No, it's perfect. I absolutely love it. Thank you so much, this was so sweet of you," your words rang out like a bell.

The breeze picked up and blew the soft locks of your hair as you stood there in your gown, picturesque, cottony clouds lining the skies.

You looked like a painting.

"Alright then," you said with vigor, "takoyaki is on me!"

————

When you returned home, you carved Aizawa's pumpkin together (a very classic orange pumpkin, perfect for Jack O Lanterns), swatting your cats off of the counter as they came to sniff at the seedy innards laid out on a sheet of parchment paper. You felt at home like this. You felt safe, content, like this is how life was meant to be.

You watched him as he placed the carved Jack O Lantern out on your porch, and took notice of the strands of raven hair that were falling out of his messy bun, delicately sweeping over his strong jaw and neck. The knot in your stomach returned, and with it came a sensation like you were on the downhill slope of a rollercoaster. It was a feeling of passion welling up inside of you, ready to tear open at your seams.

And you wanted more.

You wanted him to want you.

Worried that he might go home now that the sun had set, you asked if he would want to watch a movie with you. He was elated at the idea of cuddling up with you on the couch. How could he say no to that?

"Okay. What did you have in mind?"

"Have you ever watched Hocus Pocus?"

"No, never heard of it,"

"What?! It's a Halloween classic! I'll change into some house clothes and then we'll get started. Be right back, Shota,"

A chill ran down his spine, prickling the back of his neck at the sound of you saying his name. You called him Shota. And now you were comfortable enough with him to change into pajamas. He felt almost floaty.

Aizawa was expecting you to come out in sweatpants and a t-shirt, something comfy, something plain. He enjoyed the prospect of you coming out in soft pants and fuzzy socks. There was something so heartwarming and cozy about it that he--holy fucking shit.

You came out, as casual as humanly possible, in a pair of tiny little sleeping shorts and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt with no bra. The shirt was soft, but snug, and showed off every curve of your body through the semi-sheer fabric. He had already gotten a good look (or ten) at your ass in a nice pair of pants, but this.. were you trying to kill him? You were already all legs, and now the shorts... Aizawa scanned your body to see that you were wearing stockings that hugged your legs and made divots in the plush flesh of your upper thighs. They were Ninja Turtle green and woven like a tubesock.

Of course you were wearing these fuck me socks. That way, you could definitely say that you were completely covered from head to toe, that these were normal house clothes. Nothing here but regular old pajamas. And look, see, you totally did like green!

Your couch was small, but Aizawa sat on one end, hoping that you would sit alllll the way on the other end so that he could curl up as much as possible and you wouldn't see... things. But you weren't having it. You wanted to be able to cut the tension with a knife. You wanted to make sure this sexual frustration was palpable until it drove him to action. So you snuggled up next to him and rested your head on his chest.

He took notice that the shorts nearly disappeared when you sat down, and thought about what they might look like if you were bending over. Your tits looked great through your clothes, but your ass drove him wild. He wished for the TV to mess up somehow so you would have to get down on all fours to fix it, maybe even spread your legs just enough that your sex would peek over the side of the material, sopping and messy and begging for him.

Oh lord Jesus, Vishnu, Thor, whoever the fuck was up there just give him strength. Give his waistband extra elasticity and give his poor heart a rest so that maybe you wouldn't hear it pounding through his chest. But you did hear it. You knew exactly what you were doing when you placed your hand on his thigh and traced your fingertips down to his knee while you stared ahead at the TV screen.

Under the guise of laughing at a witch riding a vacuum cleaner, you squeezed his leg, and he jumped in his seat.

Oh.

This was torture for him.

And you liked that.

A lot.

He made a pathetic attempt to stealthily lean into you, just enough so that he could get a better whiff of your hair. You smelled like vanilla and something a little floral and spicy, like a jasmine rice desert. The thought crossed his mind that you might taste just as sweet.

"Doing okay, Shota?" Your voice this time was chesty, sensual, almost like an invitation rather than a question, and you could feel him shudder in response.

There it was again. Shota. He fucking loved the way his name dripped from your lips like honey. He nodded in agreement and you patted his leg to let him know you felt the nod.

You could feel your shorts heating up and your breathing changing pace when you heard him let out little sputters of air at your touch. It was intoxicating, hearing him get excited, smelling the sweat building between the two of you in this blissful hell of your own making.

Small beads of liquid made a wet spot up near his waistband while he took in your body heat, trying his best to focus on the screen and not the friction of you against him, or the fact that he could see your nipples plainly through your shirt. Readjusting yourself, you stretched and let out a whine in the process, and your elbow brushed up against something in his lap.

With a quick grunt, he stood up suddenly, and said "I need to use the restroom. I'll be right back,"

You gave him an "okay", and paused the movie for him. Maybe it was just in your imagination, but you could swear you saw a tent in his pants when he got up.

What you wouldn't give to toy with him for just a little while longer.

He shuts the door behind him slowly, calmly, before he's pawing at the buttons of his pants. A curse leaves his lips as he wrestles his leaking member from the confines of his boxers. 

"Little fucking cocktease," he grits, burying the words into his lower lip. 

God, he just couldn't take it anymore. He thought about you moaning, whining, mewling into his ear, your bodies entangling. How would he take you? If he had the option, he thinks he'd really like to watch you ride his cock, see the look on your face when you take all of him inside of you.

"Gonna have you begging for it. Fuck, do you even know what you do to me?" His voice trails into a groan, and he folds forward, bucking into his hand and holding onto the sink to steady himself.

A few whispers of your name fall from his lips, and he swipes at the slit of his aching length, smearing his precum along his shaft for lubrication. He's close. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, he's already feeling that knot within him frayed, about to snap. Just a few more strokes and he's jerking back his head, ropes of his release now dripping across his palm.

He finished in record time, expecting to have a sense of relief, but only finding that he craved more. Guilt took ahold of him when the thought crossed his mind that he shouldn't be thinking of you this way. This was so shameful, what he just did, making his hand all sticky from thinking of you. He rinsed his face with cool water to get rid of some of the sweat, and exited, stating that he needed to head home due to not feeling well.

Your heart sank, and the realization hit you that you may have made him uneasy with your forwardness. Maybe he didn't like you that way after all. You hoped that you hadn't just ruined things between the two of you.

Aizawa didn't want to hurt your feelings, and he could tell that he probably did; but he needed to get out of your apartment before he bent you over the couch.

So he left your place after an entire 12 hours together, beating himself up for not making a move, harboring resentment for his own lack of initiative. He was used to coming after villains, but this whole "love" thing really scared him. Love? He mulled the word over in his head. Worried it between his teeth. You two hadn't spent a single day without seeing each other in like two months. And he sure as hell didn't see himself picking out pumpkins with Hizashi any time soon.

He laid there in bed, trying his best to fall asleep, but the day just replayed in his head on a loop. His mattress was normally soft and welcoming, something that could easily lull him to sleep, but tonight it felt empty. Tonight, he felt alone. Until his phone buzzed from his nightstand.

You: is it too soon to text you?

Him: it's never too soon for you to talk to me.

You: good :) I was worried when you left in such a hurry.

You: and I miss you already.

Aizawa sat up in bed after reading your most recent message. You... missed him. He wasn't sure if he was reading that right. The blue light from his phone illuminated his face, now standing apart from the inky blackness of his room. He could feel you radiating from it.

Him: maybe you should stop by my place tomorrow afternoon then.

You: I'd really like that.

You: good night, Shota. <3

Him: see you soon.

————

He made sure to take care of himself in the shower before the next afternoon, not wanting a repeat of the previous night. Best case scenario, now he would last longer if you two ended up fooling around. He even double checked that Eri was in the dorms at UA again today. That was just wishful thinking, though. Sex these days would probably only come from pity for him. Poor washed-up hero, missing an eye, missing a leg. That's the last thing he needed right now.

He cleaned up around his apartment, wiping down the counters and making the area look welcoming for you. Why did he want to impress you so badly? Ugh, this was so embarrassing. He never worried about what people thought of him in any other scenario, but now, here he was, fluffing his brand new throw pillows and applying cologne to his neck and chest.

You knocked on the door, straightening the skirt of your dress, the same one you were wearing the morning you two first met. Aizawa answered the door in a gray t-shirt and black sweatpants, his hair loose and his eyes heavy-lidded when he looked down at you. That dress again. Clingy, short, nipped at the waist to show off your curves. Christ, you were beautiful. He welcomed you in, the smell of bergamot wafting from him.

His apartment was bigger than yours by quite a bit. It had a floating island in the kitchen, slate colored walls, a black sectional positioned in the living room atop a white shag rug, and circular lights that were recessed within the ceiling.

"Wow, your place is so nice. Shit. I'm sorry I made you come to my hovel last night," you partially joked, impressed with how well his home was put together.

"That's stupid. I liked being at your place,"

You saw something moving out of the corner of your eye through the doorway of the other room.

"Is that a punching bag?" You asked with a wry smile.

"Gotta keep myself in shape. Want to give it a go?" His voice was low, almost challenging you to take him up on the offer.

"Oh, I don't know. I lift weights but I don't really do a lot of cardio. I'd just end up humiliating myself, honestly," you said sheepishly.

"Come on, y/n, spar with me. I'll go easy on you,"

"Okay, okay," you gave in and walked toward the next room, which you could see upon closer inspection was full of gym equipment. You felt out of your element, but you were willing to make yourself look like a fool if it meant he was enjoying himself.

You gave the bag a light punch as Aizawa held onto it, half afraid that you would mess it up somehow, or maybe even break your damn hand. It felt like it was full of some kind of particulate. Maybe sand? Oh god, you probably looked like some kind of lazy sack, not even knowing how to punch a fucking bag.

"I know you can do better than that. You've got more power in you. Come on,"

You punched again.

"Harder. Don't hold back!" He growled.

That was really fucking sexy, actually, and now you were a little distracted. You balled your hand into a fist, made sure your thumb was facing outside, and used all of this pent up frustration to wallop the daylights out of the bag. Your knuckles made contact with a padded thud, and you let out a small grunt.

"Atta girl," he praised you, his voice like whisky.

God, hearing him say that was like a dopamine hit. You were disoriented. You were already clumsy, and now your brain felt like a can of cranberry sauce splattered out onto a plate.

Aizawa stepped away from the bag, a terse expression plastered onto his face.

"Now act like I'm coming after you and try to pin me. Remember, it doesn't matter that I'm bigger than you. Use strategy to overpower me,"

You mustered up all of your strength, all of your courage, and leapt toward his torso. He didn't try to block you, so you knew he was going easy on you... but you also knew you didn't do it right when you went off to the side and started to veer straight for the wall. He grabbed you by both wrists and wedged himself between your legs in order to cushion your fall, and you landed upright, straddling him as he lay on his back.

You were both panting, eyes dilated, a wildness boiling within you like animals. He let go of your wrists and your hands softly found their rest on his chest as it heaved.

"Y/n," he laughed, "that was awful,"

You rolled your eyes and shifted your weight into less of a stiff position.

"I told you I was bad at this. I am a lover, not a fighter," you pressed your hand to your chest as you spoke. 

Moving ever so slightly on top of him, you saw his eye widen, his lips parted to let a small gasp escape from them. Panic has set in. 

"Get up. Please," his tone is highly-strung and fearful.

He looks genuinely terrified, scrambling beneath you, the only reason you're still in his lap like this due to his apprehension to hurt you by accident.

"Shota, wha--" your question is cut off by the feeling of something poking against your clothed sex.

Oh. 

Oh.

A red hue painted his entire face at the realization of the situation he was in, his blood pulsing through his body rapidly, the sound of it rushing in his ears.

"Why," you said breathily "don't you want me?"

Overstimulated, his brain didn't process what you'd just said to him.

Your lungs feel like they're about to lunge straight out of your chest, your core aching to be filled. You'll have to make sure that he really gets the point. Now was the time to be honest with him, maybe even be a little dirty. It's now or never.

"I want to know.. I mean.." talking felt hard. Your blood supply seemed starved from your brain.

"Do you touch yourself when you think of me?"

He was trembling like a leaf beneath you, caged in by the plush of your thighs. Was this a trick question? Yes, he just fucked himself to you this morning, AND last night in YOUR bathroom. Is that what he was supposed to say? He swallowed thickly, clamoring to gather up some kind of sentient thought to say to you.

"I do," you filled the gap of silence, "I think of you that way. A lot, actually,"

You ground your pelvis up and down his length, the fabric of his pants rough against him, eliciting a grunt through his gritted teeth.

"I.. f-fuck, I-I dunno how to.. answer that," he's been reduced to this mumbling mess on the floor, that silver tongue suppressed by the sweet press of your warmth to his cock.

You took his shaking hand and placed it between your thighs, right on the dampness that was spreading at your center, sopping through what little material covered them. 

"I want you, Shota. I want you bad," your words were like poetry spouting from your lips.

He rubbed you through your wet panties, soaked and clinging to you like a second skin. Were you this wet for him? He delights in the way your breath hitches, how you squirm atop him, your eyes heavy and lustful. Shota gives one last languid stroke up the lace and then pulls them to the side for easier access to your clit. He rubs light circles around it and watches you writhe, taking in the noises you were making, so painfully hard he felt as though he would cum in his pants just from watching you. He stopped his teasing and placed both hands on your hips, the pair of you frenzied for more.

You crashed your lips to his, both of you giving in to a hungry kiss, passionate and blistering with heat, tongues swirling and teeth clashing. You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him into you, starved for his taste. He keened into your touch as if it would soon disappear. Leaving the rough stubble of his cheeks only to grab a handful of his mussed hair, you tugged at it, causing him to moan into your mouth, and you swallowd down each noise greedily. He explored your body with haste, grabbing your ass, sinking the pads of his fingers into your skin. You could feel him throbbing underneath you, so you palmed him through his pants, and with a swift jerk, he threw his head back onto the floor, not even caring to register the pain of it.

"Fuck. Y/n. If you keep going..."

You tugged at the waist of his pants, then dragged featherlight touches across his exposed cock teasingly. He felt you smile against his skin as you nuzzled the crook of his neck, and he lets out a muffled groan that tapered off into a high-pitched whine, desperate and needy.

He let out an involuntary whimper, almost pitiful with how much yearning was within it.

"You gonna cum for me already? Hmm?"

That was it.

He couldn't fucking take it anymore.

Something within him snapped and a growl poured from him, rumbling up from somewhere deep in his chest.

With hurried hands, he pulls your dress over top your head, revealing that you were wearing nothing but lacy black panties underneath. You were stunning. Like a Greek statue of Aphrodite herself. He was never able to fully imagine your naked form before, and this was a perfect frame of reference for later. He wanted nothing more than to get absolutely drunk off of you. And he gets you all to himself. He can't hardly believe his luck.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," his voice was raw and saturated with desire, a gravel to it, burning like whisky.

"I want you to touch me," you murmur, suddenly feeling shy in the sweltering heat of his gaze.

"Touch you?" Aizawa said with a chuckle, "I'm going to devour you,"

Before you were given the chance to react, he bucked into you, then slid you from his lap and onto the floor, gripping your underwear and throwing them off on your way down. He took off his shirt expeditiously to reveal his muscular form, and you admire the lines that bisect his abdomen, eyes nearly rolling into your skull when they land at the tent in his pants. He looks big. Like, concerningly big. You ran your fingers across the scars on his chest, which gave an almost tickling sensation, all the way down to the hair that trailed from his naval to his pants. He was beautiful. So fit that he looked like he could play himself in a movie.

Casting the clothing aside, he lays you flat onto the floor, kissing from your lips, to your neck, to your nipple where he sucked and flicked his tongue, using his free hand to caress the other, groping hungrily at your plush flesh. You moaned, breathy and meek, at his touch. Separating from you, his pupil was blown out as your pheromones hit him in the face, and he pulled your legs apart to fully expose you.

"Look at your pretty little pussy,"

He slipped a digit inside of you and did a curling motion until he found the spot that made you whimper underneath him, watched as your face went from shocked to a look of pleading for more, lashes fluttering.

He clicked his tongue.

"And look at you. So fucking needy. So ready for me to take you,"

He removed his finger and used it to play with your clit, making waves of pleasure shoot through your body, a white-hot coil tightening in your core just above where he was touching.

"Sh-Shota... please, fuck me," you begged, nearly mewling.

He hissed through his teeth, peering down at you as if you were prey. The look on his face is wolfish, starving, nearly pained to be holding himself back. There's a wilderness within him that begs to be let loose. You want nothing more than to be destroyed by it, left a carnal mess upon the floor. 

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you until you can't even sit without thinking of me," he taps your clit with his fingertips, "But first, I'm going to make you cum on my tongue," he was serious with his words, meticulous, making sure you knew exactly what he had planned for you. Sweet, slow burning anticipation sent tingles up and down your spine.

He put your legs on his shoulders and went back to the spot inside of you that made you cry, this time sucking on your clit in tandem, fully encapturing it within his lips. Your mouth was now agape in a breathy scream as you clamp down on his fingers, moving your hips in time with him, riding waves of pleasure as he brings you closer to the edge. He lets out an appreciative groan as you say his name, the noises coming out of you so lewd and sinful that you hope the neighbors don't call someone for a wellness check.

Aizawa absentmindedly pressed himself against the floor, nearly frantic for some kind of touch while he watched you squirming beneath him, but it does little to quell the ache he has in his center. You tasted like sweet tarts and made these lustful gasps, and it drove him absolutely mad to know he was doing that to you, that these reactions were from his own touch.

"Say my name," he speaks this phrase into the throbbing bud at your apex, and you shiver, close to careening off of the edge he'd just brought you to. 

"Shota.. fuck, keep going, please," you mewl, rolling your hips. 

He nips at your inner thigh, velvet flesh pillowing between his teeth, and then drags the length of his tongue up your clit in one torturously long stroke. 

"Louder. I want everyone to know who's about to make you cum," the steel in his gaze is sharp enough to slice you. 

So you oblige him, moaning his name, chanting it like a mantra as he continues to lap at you once more. You can feel the pressure building, building, building until it finally spills over like a dam. He moans at the realization, feeling your pussy spasm under his tongue.

"Oh my god.. Oh fuck, Shota!" You cry out for him as you melt into his mouth.

He's breathless as he pulls himself away from you, mouth slick, still slipping his fingers in and out of you in an allowance to ride out the rest of your orgasm. He looks feral. Like he could tear into you. Destroy you.

He drags his cheek across your thigh.

"Good girl," he grunts, "good fucking girl,"

You look up at him with your mouth partially open, your eyes heavy with want, and with one fell swoop you sit up and pull down his sweatpants to reveal his throbbing cock, wet and dripping from the tip. You take the whole thing into your mouth, sucking, swirling your tongue, cranking your hand around his shaft like you're ready to milk the soul straight out of him. He gasps, moving his hips to pump into your mouth as you open wider, holding out your tongue so you can take in as much of his length as possible. He brought you closer until you were practically flush against him, all the while you were committing the look on his face to memory.

You can tell this is about to break him, so you tighten your grip in a pulsating pattern, moaning on his length to send vibrations through him. His movements are becoming erratic, fervent, and you cannot fucking wait to see him come apart at your doing. You run the flat of your tongue across a particularly sensitive spot along his shaft, your arousal building once more when you see the way he pinches his brows together, how he ruts into your mouth like some inexperienced virgin. You just feel too fucking good.

Suddenly, he pulls himself from your mouth with a vulgar pop, and you're gasping for sweet breaths of air after some of the sloppiest head you've given in your life.

"I knew you'd be good at that," Aizawa chokes out, his dick bobbing in front of you, "but we're not done yet,"

He lightly pushed you back onto the ground and placed your ankles up onto his shoulders, putting his tip right up against your entrance. His muscles twitched in anticipation and you reveled in his godlike form.

"Is this okay?" He asked you, gently.

You laughed a bit at the question.

With all the heat and want you can channel, you look up at him from your place on the floor and rasp "ruin me, Shota,"

He gives you a wicked smile, one you've never seen him wear before, and pushes himself inside of your aching pussy, holding onto your leg for leverage. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, a bit unprepared for his full girth inside of you. It doesn't take long for you to start moving along with him though, and he begins to thrust harder, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

Biting your lower lip, you throw your head back, attempting to keep from screaming as he delves into you. He removes his hand from your leg to grab your jaw, and locking eyes says, "Eyes on me. I want to see the fucking look on your face when I make you cum,"

This coaxes a moan from you, and he gives a gutteral response to his cock being squeezed.

"Good girl. You're taking me so well. God, you're so tight, fuck," his voice is husky and deep.

Your cunt hugs him tighter with every word.

He needed more.

Aizawa takes his free hand and starts to rub your clit in circles, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and you can feel that knot in your stomach forming again. You're about to come undone already, and he can feel you clamping around him like a vice.

"Fuck that feels so good," your voice is heady and needful.

His pacing became erratic once more and his ministrations on your clit became almost desperate. He was barely holding on, whimpering, sweat dotting his brow.

"I knew you were fucking teasing me. Coming out in those tiny shorts. Know what I shoulda done? Should've fucked you right there on the couch. Should've bred your tight little cunt," he leans down to fill some of the gap between you, a few tendrils of his raven hair falling to cling to his face.

He pistons into you harder, "Swear to god, I'm gonna fuck every single thought out of that pretty little head. Wanna tease me like that? Take your fucking punishment. I.. f-fuck!" He feels you come unraveled all over his cock as you ride him from there on the floor, making sounds that hitch in your throat like ragged bleats. He made note of your blissed-out expression and then let out a sharp gasp, your walls almost too snug for him to handle.

You whined in a small voice, still finishing, your gaze not breaking when you tell him, "make a mess in me,"

That's all it took for him to lose it, giving into his pleasure and allowing himself to fill you up with what felt like gallons of cum, letting out strangled moans as his entire body throbs.

Panting, he pulls out of you, watching as his release leaks from between your legs. He wasn't usually interested in sex at all after getting off, but seeing you like this, glowing with sweat and hormones, covered in him. It made him weak. He pulls apart your cunt with his thumbs, watches your glistening sex twitch, cum dripping. He's going to remember this if he ever needs to get off in two seconds flat.

The two of you lay in the floor together, floating, riding the high in a breathless haze.

"Be my girlfriend, y/n," Aizawa was the first to speak.

You were taken aback.

"What?"

You never thought him to be the type to be alright with labels.

"I like you. Not just in the way that I want to have sex with you. I want to make love to you. And I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you be with me?"

You ran your fingers across his jawline as a warm smile spread across your face.

"I'll be your girlfriend. But there are stipulations,"

"Anything. Whatever you want, it's yours," Aizawa hopes that his longing isn't too obvious, that he isn't too eager, but another part of him doesn't even care anymore.

"You have to be my boyfriend," your words are like a breeze through a windchime.

His eye takes purchase in your face as he leans into you, the kiss he offers you this time languid, lazy, loving instead of a mess of teeth and lips.

I love you, he thought, pulling away enough that your foreheads touch. God, how I love you. Just allow me to worship at the altar of your body once more.

Before you can stop yourself, and as if you can read his mind, you speak to him in a voice that's almost a whisper, "I think I love you,"

He looks dumbfounded, awestruck.

He finds his voice enough to say, simply, "I love you," followed by a kiss pressed to your nose.

The day that follows is soft and halcyon. You bask in one another like the afterglow is your lifeline, here in your own private world, all stardust and warmth. You don't know what the future holds. You stopped living in a world of 'what ifs' a long time ago. But you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, you'll be there with him.

And he'll be there with you.

Like he always is.

I would like to request a Valentine's Day fic.

A UA student accidentally hits Aizawa with her quirk, Puppy Love, which turns anyone hit by it into a ditzy dog hybrid obsessed with the one they love for a week.

Mic is more than happy to give his puppy of a husband all the love and attention he needs. Ear scratches, chin strokes, belly rubs, and maybe something even more.

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Puppy Love

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: A UA student accidentally hits Aizawa with her quirk, Puppy Love, which turns anyone hit by it into a ditzy dog hybrid obsessed with the one they love for a week.

Mic is more than happy to give his puppy of a husband all the love and attention he needs. Ear scratches, chin strokes, belly rubs, and maybe something even more.

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi

Content Warning: Smut, Gay Sex, Rough Sex, Dry Humping, Anal Sex, Blowjob, Creampie, Dog Boy, Dog Hybrid Aizawa, Pet Play, Bottom Aizawa, Implied Switching, Married EraserMic, Fluff, Mildly Dubious Consent

Word Count: 3.8k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: Second request! :D Happy late Valentine's Day!💖

I was very much supposed to post on V Day, but alas, Tumbr was not letting me post :( Idk if it was Tumblr itself or something else but yeah. But it's here! Hope you like it anon, I had no idea what to write for Vday and you came in clutch!💪

My Masterlist

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Aizawa has never been a big fan of Valentine's Day.

He never really got the point of it. Of course he still celebrates it in his own way with his husband, because of course Hizashi loves all things love and Valentine's Day, but all the extra theatrics just seem like too much.

Seeing the halls of UA filled with bright eyed kids running around whispering about their crushes and infatuations, seeing some shyly gifting boxes of chocolates to their object of affection, them accepting them with blushing or poorly hidden smugness, he can already feel the incoming headache.

And of course something simply must happen.

As he's minding his business on his way to the teacher's lounge, a flustered girl bumps into him and there's a flash of pink light. He stumbles, head spinning and body tingling, before everything goes black.

*****

Hizashi was not expecting to be called into the infirmary because of his husband apparently getting into a quirk accident, yet here we are.

After rushing over, he's met with the sight of his seemingly unconscious husband on the bed, and is only not currently screaming because of the pure delight on Midnight's face as she hovers over him, snapping pictures.

He looks around the infirmary in confusion, seeing Recovery Girl and another student in the room, though she's very clearly nervous and looking ready to bolt.

"What's going on?", he asks out loud, not really caring who answers him.

Recovery Girl just sighs loudly and gestures over to Shouta, so Hisashi strides over.

And his brain promptly short circuits.

Because there is indeed Shouta, his husband, not unconscious, but laying on his side, curled up with his knees to his chest, and Hizashi's rapidly dilating eyes fixate on the fucking tail that's wagging and thumping against the bed, all black, silky fluff, as its owner covers his face with his hands. Then Hizashi's gaze snaps up to Shouta's head and he almost collapses. Because almost hidden in his inky hair, is a pair of soft, floppy ears, that twitch at the sound of his sharp inhale, and oh Hizashi wants to touch. He wants to pet him more than he's ever wanted anything in his life.

He forcefully restrains himself for now, because he knows if he starts, he won't be able to stop, and he needs answers first.

Pretty dark eyes peek out at him from between long fingers and the tail begins wagging even faster. Hizashi swallows thickly, willing himself to stay calm.

His neck feels like it's creaking when he turns to Midnight and manages to choke out, "Explain."

She seems far too delighted to do so.

"Well, my adorable little student Aiko-chan here accidentally hit him with her quirk in the hallway." She says, far too brightly. He takes a deep breath and stares at her, waiting for her to continue. She rolls her eyes before doing so. "It's called 'Puppy Love', isn't that adorable? Anyways, it just turns him into a dog hybrid with some.....side effects." She says with a sidelong glance and a devious smirk, something horrifyingly mischievous in that look.

Hizashi sighs, long and tired, sounding far too much like his husband, and reluctantly asks. "What kind of side effects?"

Midnight claps with a cackle, "I'm so glad you asked! Well, according to Aiko-chan, he'll basically lose his shame, and be absolutely obsessed with you, the one he looovveess~.

Hizashi drags a hand down his face, because he knows he absolutely would not be able to say no to Shouta for anything and now has the responsibility to ensure Shouta doesn't embarrass himself during all of this. "Okay, for how long?"

"A week!" Midnight chirps.

Hizashi wants to scream.

Before he can say anything else, he feels Shouta's hand on his and hears him sigh, "'Zashi."

There's so much adoration, near reverence, condensed into that one word that it makes Hizashi's heart lurch as an uncharacteristic, dopey smile takes over Shouta's face when he gets Hizashi's gaze on him again; dark eyes wide and bright as he looks at him, and Hizashi's breath gets caught in his throat.

Fuck, he's adorable.

"Aww, look how excited he is to see you." He hears more than anything the smirk in Midnight's voice as she coos, before continuing, "You boys better get home and, hm, take care, of each other. Don't want to give the kiddies a show now, do we?" That snaps Hizashi out of it, remembering that they're in the presence of other people, of a student, and he nods, looking over to Recovery Girl.

"Is he good to go?" He hopes the urgency in his heart didn't bleed into his words, and tries to ignore Shouta pawing at his face and clothes, thankfully not trying to undress him, just seeking attention.

"Yes, dear. Just be sure to keep him hydrated, and keep him away from food that dogs can't eat. Do your research before giving him anything. Nedzu already gave you both the week off for this, so rest easy." She hands him a handful of gummies, before going back to her desk.

He nods, thanking her as he guides Shouta out of the bed. He stumbles a bit, but eventually manages. Just before they leave, he hears shuffling to the side. "Um.." It's Aiko-chan, nervously playing with her fingers. "I'm really sorry, Sensei." Her voice wobbles, and Hizashi feels bad for most likely adding to her guilt.

"Hey, no worries, listener! It was an honest mistake, just be more careful next time, yeah?" He sends her a bright smile, valiantly trying to ignore the pure adorableness that is his husband at the moment, and moves on after he sees her shoulders relax. "I will, thank you, Sensei."

They somehow manage to get from the building to the car with minimal witnesses and much struggle, what with Shouta trying to climb him like a tree.

Isn't he supposed to be a dog???

By the time they get home, he feels like he's been run ragged.

It was a near battle trying to drive safely with an adorable man/dog hybrid trying to crawl his way into his lap almost the entire way there, all while miraculously not crashing the car.

He makes it to their couch, where he collapses and then promptly has a lap full of Shouta.

He can't help but laugh as Shouta showers him is licks and kisses along his mouth, cheeks, chin and neck, his hand moving up to pet his hair and ears affectionately, finally able to touch the soft fur there.

Shouta eventually settles down, situating himself across his lap and nuzzling his face into Hizashi's throat, a low rumble in his chest as he basks in his pets.

They doze off there together, Hizashi's hand buried in Shouta's soft hair, content smiles on their faces.

*****

Hizashi wakes up to movement on his lap.

He groggily peels his eyes open, only to snap fully awake at the sight before him.

Straddling his leather clad thigh, Shouta ruts his clothed crotch against the solid muscle there, eyes hazy and tongue lolled out from between parted, drooling lips.

Mind blanking, Hizashi's hands fly to Shouta's hips, gripping him there as he moves, and he groans low in his throat. "Fuck, you're that desperate for it, puppy?"

Shouta barely even seems to hear him in his pleasure as he continues to hump his leg like a, well, dog.

Hizashi leans in and licks the line of drool trickling down the corner of his mouth, while guiding Shouta's hips and rocking his thigh up into him on his next thrust, and Shouta cums with a high pitched whine.

As he comes down from his high, Hizashi peppers kisses to his face, bringing him back down gently, and Shouta dazedly smiles and licks kisses along Hizashi's lips, cheeks and throat in return.

When Shouta's fully settled, Hizashi takes a deep breath, steadfastly ignoring his own problem, and guides him up out of his lap. His pants are soaked through and leaking, which is not helping Hizashi's problem.

"Alright, let's get cleaned up and get something to eat, yeah?"

It's then that he really processes that the room is noticeably dimmer with the setting sun, so Hizashi decides he should definitely make dinner.

After cleaning up of course.

He manages to shift Shouta off of him, but as he moves to stand, he's startled by a loud and protesting whine. Shouta looks distressed and sad as he watches him like he's never going to see him again, ears and tail droopy.

Hizashi feels his heart simultaneously crack and melt at the devastatingly adorable display.

"We gotta clean up, baby. C'mon, Sho.", he says softly, trying to soothe him, and Shouta just whines again, but allows him to stand and follows suit.

Of course, he only agrees to do so if it's together where he can keep an eye on Hizashi, which he just agrees with with amusement.

Both now changed into sweatpants and tshirts, Hizashi's hair freshly washed and without all that product, tied in a low, loose bun, strands at the front framing his face, and Shouta's dark locks falling loosly in damp waves, Hizashi leads them to the kitchen, trying his very best to not focus on just how low on Shouta's hips the pants sit, comfortably below his tail but barely covering his dick.

He tries to leave Shouta on the couch where he'd be more comfortable, but Shouta is not having it.

"I'll be right back, baby. I'm just going to the kitchen to make us dinner." Hizashi tries to reason, but Shouta just lets out an adorable growly grumble and follows after him.

He huffs out a laugh, simply accepting his cute shadow. He's keenly aware of dark eyes following his every move as he moves about the kitchen making their dinner, making sure it's edible for dogs too, settling on a simple chicken stew. Halfway through cooking, he looks over to see Shouta seemingly intent on going in circles, pursuing his own tail, and he has to force himself to stifle a snort of laughter.

When he's finished with their food and setting the table, he gets a lick on his cheek as appreciation, and smiles softly at Shouta, knowing it's a puppy's way of kissing, and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose in return. He gets a pleased chuff in reply and they eat their dinner in relative silence, though Shouta is seated far closer to him than he usually is.

Hizashi's just thankful and relieved that he can still eat like a human being and not with his face buried in the plate.

After cleaning up, Shouta thankfully patient and calm as he does so, and with them fed and cleaned, Hizashi heads to the their bedroom with his shadow and settles into the bed, up against the headboard, preparing himself to continue with the book he's been reading for the past week, when he instead immediately has Shouta's head in his lap.

Hizashi just smiles fondly as he pets his ears and strokes his chin, chuckling softly at the little wiggle and chuff it elicits. The movement causes his shirt to ride up, showing off the abs and happy trail on Shouta's lower abdomen, and without thinking, Hizashi's hand is already there.

A purring rumble vibrates through Shouta as Hizashi drags his nails just below his navel, dark eyes glazing over.

And Hizashi swallows thickly. Oh this is dangerous.

Shouta is very much not in his right mind, he should not do anything to him, shouldn't have allowed what happened to happen.

But oh, the way Shouta peers up at him through lidded eyes and thick lashes, pink lips parted with soft pants.

Hizashi is suddenly very aware that a few inches further up, Shouta could notice Hizashi's losing battle of keeping himself from getting hard.

Biting his lip, Hizashi decides; Fuck it.

This is his husband, his very adorable husband, who has already long consented to things like this after previous quirk mishaps, it's really just Hizashi's hesitance holding him back. Granted, he's never been quite this out of it before, but it'll be fine.

Hizashi will take very good care of Shouta.

But, he'll be patient. He'll just go along with everything he can with what Shouta wants. He won't initiate anything.

That settles his conscience, as he continues to pet Shouta, enjoying just running his hand through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp, and stroking the fawn-soft ears, all while raking blunt nails over his stomach.

Shouta whines and snuffles when Hizashi starts to scratch behind his ears, moaning loudly when he grazes a spot right at the base. Fascinated, he rubs the spot again, harder this time, which makes Shouta moan louder as he flips over onto his stomach.

Hizashi pauses, thinking Shouta wants it to stop, but immediately buries his hand in his hair once again at the low whine he receives.

He's quickly entranced by the way Shouta's fluffy tail wags enthusiastically at his touch, and can't help but immediately caressing it, stroking it from the base to the fluffy tip.

"'Zashi, more." A pleading whine breaks his slurred speech and Hizashi pauses for just a second before resuming his ministrations, his own excitement growing with every little noise he strokes out of the other man.

Shouta snaps his head to face Hizashi, staring straight at his crotch because he can smell his arousal, and Hizashi feels his breath hitch at the look in those dark eyes.

He surges forward, nuzzling his face into his clothed crotch, and Hizashi can't help but swear loudly and tighten his grip on the hair in his hands as Shouta mouths against his tent. His breath is hot and saliva is quickly creating a wet patch from where he starts sucking on the fabric, and the sight of Shouta's head in his lap, mouthing along the side of his clothed dick, hands pawing at his thighs and abdomen, all while peering up at him with that eager, pleading expression is far too much too quickly, and Hizashi breaks.

Tugging his pants down, he frees his achingly hard cock from its confines with a hiss, murmuring, "Go for it, puppy."

Shouta happily envelops the tip in his hot, wet mouth, suckling on it. The heat of his panting breath hits his throbbing shaft as he laps and laves along it, wet and sloppy as he thoroughly enjoys his treat, and Hizashi throws his head back with a deep groan, chest heaving.

“F-fuck, good boy,” he pants, tangling his hand in dark hair just behind his ears, while the other slips under the waistband of Shouta's pants, wandering down over the swell of his ass to grab a greedy handful of the tender flesh, both making the dark haired man let out a vibrating moan around his dick, “Such a good boy for me, Shouta.” 

Shouta pulls back to whine, rutting his own erection against the mattress. "'Zashi," he whimpers, pretty eyes glassy and pleading.

"Hmm? What does my good boy want?" he hums, because really, even Hizashi doesn't know what he wants more at the moment. The thought of spreading his legs for Shouta to have his way with him, all ruthless and animalistic, is a delightful thought, but on the other hand....

Hizashi trails his hand further down, teasing Shouta's dry hole with the pads of his fingers, and he gets his answer in the form of a high keen, Shouta's back arching.

"Want me to take you, puppy? Want me to breed you like my little bitch?" He asks in the sweetest voice, like he's not talking about fucking him.

Shouta's immediate response is a happy yelp, nuzzling against Hizashi's twitching cock.

"Fuck, strip and on your knees for me, pet."

They both discard their clothes, and Hizashi quickly rummages through their nightstand for their bottle of lube as Shouta eagerly obliges and moves to the center of the bed to bury his face in the sheets, ass raised in the air.

And Hizashi curses under his breath, because he will never tire of the view of his husband like this, back arched, ass presented and wiggling his hips enticingly, cock hard and heavy between his legs; fluffy tail swishing above the delicious swell of his ass, his hole twitching and ready to be filled.

How the fuck did he get so lucky?

"Good boy, Shouta" he murmurs, voice husky and cock aching as he kneels behind him.

Shouta lets out a loud, broken moan when Hizashi wraps a hand around the base of his tail, stroking his thumb along where it connects to his skin, before moving to open the bottle of lube with a click, dribbling some onto his fingers. Tossing the bottle to the side, he presses a slick finger to his puckered hole, pushing past the rim. Shouta rumbles low in his chest at the feeling, as Hizashi thrusts his finger in and out, coating his insides with the lube, before pressing in another finger, eyes fixed on the way his tail flicks and sways at the stretch, a panting moan escaping him.

After years of exploring his body, Hizashi finds Shouta's prostate with practiced ease, adding delicious pressure there, drawing out a sweet whimper from him as his neglected cock twitches where it hangs heavy, dripping precum.

Hizashi scissors his fingers, properly stretching him out for him, before pressing in the third and final finger, curling and rubbing his fingers directly against his prostate, massaging it; his other hand gripping his asscheek, holding him open and in place.

Shouta whines, high and needy, voice cracking on its way out, as his hips twitch and back bows even more in a filthy arch, tail wagging away as he tries to fuck himself back on the fingers inside him.

And Hizashi decides that he's ready for him, and he's so fucking thankful for that because his own neglected cock aches with need, tip flushed red and wet with precum.

He pulls his fingers from his hole with a squelch, and Shouta whines at the loss and emptiness, before instead yipping in excitement at the feeling of the head of Hizashi's cock nudging at his stretched rim.

After smearing the remaining lube along his length, Hizashi pushes in in one smooth thrust until their hips are flush, moaning at the familiar, welcoming heat surrounding him and the vision that is Shouta beneath him like this.

Face buried in the sheets, panting and drooling and whining into the bed, with his back arched sinfully, hole stretched around him, while his tail swishes and big ears twitch excitedly.

Green eyes feast hungrily on the gorgeous sight, as he reaches his clean hand up to thread his fingers through his golden locks, freeing it from the hair tie in the process.

He barely lets him catch his breath before he rolls his hips, and Shouta moans long and low at that, lighting up every nerve along his walls as he drags over his prostate. Hizashi draws back, not even to his head, just barely goes halfway, before burying himself back inside again.

And Shouta is lost to panting whines and sobbing moans as Hizashi works up the pace, pulling out farther, slamming back in harder, faster, all while stroking along his sensitive tail and ears.

"Fuck, so good for me. Always take me so well." He groans, rolling his hips on the last word for emphasis, dragging out a keening moan from his puppy.

Hizashi feels the way his walls twitch around him, sees the way a shudder runs through his body, and knows he's close.

He wraps his hands around his hips in a tight grip and holds him there as he picks up his speed again, pounding into him hard and fast at a brutal pace, as Shouta rocks back to meet the increasingly frantic thrusts with tantalizingly perfect clenches and deep, sweet moans, tail quivering.

“You gonna cum like this, gorgeous?” Hizashi growls, releasing his right hip to reach forward and take Shouta's cock in his hand, stroking along the length teasingly, “C'mon, be my good boy and cum for me, puppy.” 

One last stroke as he grinds against his sweet spot, and Shouta howls, head thrown back as he cums all over the sheets, fluffy tail wagging erratically and claws, sharp, small and black, grow out of his hands and rip the sheets beneath them, digging into the mattress with a clench of his fists

The combination of the sight of Shouta falling apart like that and the way he clamps down on him, so tight and so good, sends Hizashi over the edge with him, hips twitching as he fills him up with his seed, vision whiting out.

When they eventually come down from their highs, Hizashi carefully pulls out with a hiss, and fuck, if he could come again he would, just from the sight of him. His cum spilling out of his husband's gaping hole, eyes glazed over as he pants, and drooling from parted lips; ears and tail twitching with leftover traces of pleasure.

He's fucking gorgeous.

Hizashi runs a reverent hand along his spine as he eases him down on his side, on a clean spot, before standing to get things to clean them up. Shouta whines when Hizashi moves away, tail droopy and brows pinched, and Hizashi's heart melts all over again at the adorable sight.

“Shhh, it's okay, pup,” he murmurs, petting Shouta's ears, “I’m just grabbing something to clean us up, baby.” He pushes back Shouta's sweaty hair and presses a kiss to his forehead before walking into the attached bathroom and retrieving a warm, damp washcloth.

They can always shower later, but for now, he cleans the cum and lube off of himself before taking another damp cloth back to the bedroom to help Shouta clean up.

The way he immediately perks up upon his return is absolutely precious, and Hizashi can't help the fond, sappy look that takes over his features.

Leaning down, he presses a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips, full with his insurmountable love and affection for this man, before pulling away with an absolutely smitten smile.

He cleans him up and bundles him in clean blankets, and they fall asleep wrapped up in each other's arms.

Though, some time during their slumber, they shift and switch places, and when Hizashi wakes next, it's to Shouta grinding and humping against his bare ass, tongue laving along his neck.

The remainder of the week is going to be eventful, to say the least.

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Reblogs and comments are appreciated

Teacher's Pet

charecters : aizawa , you

Summary : a small fantasy of yours changes into reality with your teacher or more specifically aizawa

You sat there, the sound of the A.C drowned out the other noises in class. you bit the end of your pen slightly as you tried to concentrate on the notes Mr. Aizawa was writing on the board.

Your eyes trailed over his face, following every feature; from his stubble to his scar, nose, lips and eyes.

Black eyes stared at you as you snapped out of it and wrote down what he finished writing.

You felt your heart racing as you realized you got caught staring at him; not writing down the notes but staring at him. your cheeks bloomed a pink colour as you continued to write.

(Y/n), since you were obviously distracted, would you care to tell the rest of your peers, the third rule for this semester's lesson course?"

He stared at you, a subtle smirk formed and disappeared the next millisecond.

He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for your response. Your mind went blank, you realized you never wrote down anything at the beginning of the lesson. Your eyes went wide as you stared at something that was next to him.

"U-uh... i don't.." you trailed off and felt really stupid as to why you didn't write anything down.

He sighed and looked directly at you, "Next time pay attention. Or you'll be staying after class as detention."

He turned back to the board.

You didn't really think not paying attention would cause you to actually be in detention.

Yea, not so long after Mr. Aizawa called you out for not paying attention you managed to get in trouble.

You facepalmed and stared at the class door knob, debating to actually go forth and stay in a classroom where you and this desirable man are alone for a whole 2 hours. Yea, nothing like 'Pure' thoughts.

You gulped and knocked on the door.

"You, wanted to see me, Mr. Aizawa?" You questioned as you walked into the classroom, you felt your breathing hitch as you seen him leaned over the desk working on yesterday's papers.

The top part of his hair tied into a small messy bun with a few strands, eyes lowered with a tired glaze and his forearms showing from his sleeves being rolled up. "yes, it's a few things actually.

I want you to see these, come closer." His tired voice. heightened your senses. You walked over to him and sat as he gestured you to. He went through the work, and you saw no actual problem to it.

After staring at the problem, you noticed how quiet it was from his side. You looked at him and seen his eyes bore into yours.

"You, wanted to see me, Mr. Aizawa?" You questioned as you walked into the classroom, you felt your breathing hitch as you seen him leaned over the desk working on yesterday's papers.

The top part of his hair tied into a small messy bun with a few strands, eyes lowered with a tired glaze and his forearms showing from his sleeves being rolled up. "yes, it's a few things actually.

I want you to see these, come closer." His tired voice. heightened your senses. You walked over to him and sat as he gestured you to.

He went through the work, and you saw no actual problem to it. After staring at the problem, you noticed how quiet it was from his side. You looked at him and seen his eyes bore into yours.

Your cheeks flared, and you cleared your throat to speak but got cut off by a paper being shown to you. It was writing about Mr. Aizawa and how he caused you to catch feelings for him.

"Care to explain?" You stayed still and looked back at him. "It was a joke." You blurted out then cringed after, God how fucking stupid are you?! You thought.

He smirked and moved a bit closer, his breath on your lips as your eyes stayed on his. "It took a while to understand how you acted different towards me from the other students."

He whispered in a sultry voice as he placed a hand on your thigh, you blushed and on instinct you squeezed your thighs together. His lips barely touching yours but just enough to feel the feather touches of his lips.

"You- BUrP BURPbURP'

You shot out of bed with sweat on your face and looked around. You stared at your MHA posters and facepalmed. "No more fanfics before bed......." You muttered and slammed your face back into the pillow.

mha incorrect #4

Shigaraki : i have your student

Aizawa : which one???

Shigaraki : A angry rat that wont stop screaming "DEKU"

Aizawa : OMG HE HAS BAKUHOU