#shouta aizawa x reader

[yamsfrecklvs]

tbh although it’s obvious that aizawa is not the kind of man who likes any kind of pda (except for maybe some subtle touches that only you two notice) i am a firm believer of this man being the touchiest mfer ever when you two are alone.

sure, it does take him a little to warm up. a bit more than a little.

BUT! once you crack that tough-guy exterior of his?

oh, he’s all over you. constantly.

if you two are sitting together that big, strong hand of his is always on your thigh.

yes, even when he’s driving. (especially then)

hands under your shirt if he’s hugging you from behind. he loves to feel how warm you are under his calloused fingertips, how soft you feel.

plops you onto his lap when he’s grading. and also, definitely the kind of man who pats his lap once. and you know what it means. get on there immediately.

temple kisses! always! his favorite place to kiss dare i add!

hands threading through your hair when you’re speaking, or maybe caressing your head, or softly grazing your face with the back of his hand. that’s his way of telling you to keep going and that yes, he’s listening.

he’s not a big hugger, but! when you do hug him after a long day? oh, he absolutely melts into your arms. there he is, your big, strong boyfriend is suddenly putty in your hands. he’s also a secret fan of head scratches (who said that)

there it was thanks for coming to my ted talk!

[dee-writes-anime]

"Vanilla Cupcakes" was so good I actually teared up a little😭 any chance u can do a part 2/ aftermath fic? Nothing to special, just how aizawa sort of deals with the aftermath of it all. I can see him still trying to make it up to her in small gestures (small talk, buying her snacks, offering to go out, etc.), but they all feel out of place and painfully obvious he's trying to make up for her birthday. She catches on but doesn't say anything, just stops responding to his attempts all together until he eventually gives up.

Left on Read

FEATURING Shouta Aizawa x Reader (PLATONIC)

SUMMARY Aizawa is trying. But some things don’t get fixed with a granola bar and small talk. After forgetting your sixteenth birthday, he fumbles through awkward attempts at connection and you stop answering before it even starts to feel real.

CONTENT WARNINGS parental neglect (emotional), forgotten birthday, emotional distancing, subtle depiction of burnout and loneliness, communication breakdown, strained parent-child relationship

AUTHORS NOTE and we're still riding the angst train. I don't know if you're the same anon or not, but my question still stands T-T

Hello reader, this is a two part fic! For context here is part one: Vanilla Cupcakes

Aizawa doesn’t mention your birthday again.

Not the next morning. Not the next week. Not even the weekend after that, when you’re both home at the same time for once, crossing paths in the hallway like two people renting separate rooms in the same apartment.

You think maybe he’s embarrassed. Or maybe he thinks saying sorry once was enough.

Maybe it was, technically. But that doesn’t undo the rest of it.

It doesn’t undo the part where you waited all day.

It doesn’t undo the silence.

He starts acting… different.

Nothing dramatic. Nothing you could really point to in a conversation with someone else.

But it’s there.

He checks in more often now — weird, stilted check-ins that feel rehearsed, like he’s repeating advice from a parenting article. “You get enough sleep last night?” or “Need anything for school this week?” And once: “You hungry?” while standing in front of the open fridge like he didn’t know what answer he wanted.

You always answer simply. "Yeah." "No." "I'm good." You’re not cold about it, just… detached.

Like turning off the light when you leave the room.

One night, he comes home with a plastic bag from a convenience store and leaves it on the kitchen table.

You glance inside and find a pack of your favorite chocolate-covered biscuit sticks and a bottled iced coffee you haven’t had since middle school. It would’ve made you happy a year ago. Maybe even a few months ago.

Now it just makes you tired.

You leave the coffee in the fridge. You don’t touch the biscuits.

The next day, they’re gone.

It builds from there.

Aizawa starts offering things in small, awkward bursts. “Want me to walk you to the station?” or “I’ve got next Friday off—if you wanna do something.” He never says it’s because he forgot your birthday. But it’s obvious. It all feels like an apology.

You don’t confront him about it.

You just stop accepting.

Not in a dramatic way. You just say “Nah,” or “I’ve got plans,” or “Maybe another time.” And when he suggests a movie night on a random Wednesday — some old detective film he liked when he was your age — you don’t even look up from your homework.

“Can’t. Big test Friday.”

He pauses in the doorway for a second. Then nods once and leaves.

The more he tries, the weirder things feel.

He’s always been distant — not unkind, but distracted. Work-heavy. Tired. You learned early on how to manage things yourself: permission slips, dinner, rides home when the trains weren’t running. He was never cruel about it. Just busy.

You never expected parties or surprises. But you expected… something. Some sign that he noticed.

This version of him — this trying-too-hard version — feels like a stranger.

You almost prefer the silence.

At least then, you knew where you stood.

A few weeks go by like that.

Until one Monday afternoon, you’re at the kitchen counter doing some half-finished trig homework when he gets home early. The sun’s still out. He smells like street air and a bit of smoke — probably from patrol.

You don’t say anything. Just keep working.

He sets his keys down. Opens the fridge. Stands there longer than necessary.

Then, casually, he leans against the counter across from you.

“There’s a parent-teacher thing on Thursday,” you say without looking up. “I left the flyer on your desk.”

He doesn’t answer immediately.

Then: “Thanks. I’ll be there.”

You underline something in your notebook.

“You don’t have to. I already filled out the form in case you forgot.”

“I didn’t forget.”

“Okay.”

He shifts a little. You can hear the stiffness in his shoulders even if you’re not looking.

“I’ve been trying,” he says finally. Quiet, like he’s not sure how much he’s allowed to say. “I know it doesn’t change anything. I just— I know I messed up.”

You let your pencil roll out of your hand. Finally glance up at him.

“You forgot my birthday, Dad. Not just the cake or the dinner. Like… the whole thing. The whole day.”

“I know.”

“I waited for you.”

He looks away. Not out of avoidance, exactly. But like it hurts to look directly at you.

“I thought maybe you’d at least say something before you left that morning. Anything.”

Silence.

“I remembered the next night,” he says eventually. “I saw the note on the fridge and— I felt like someone kicked me in the chest.”

You don’t answer.

“I’ve been trying to make it up to you. With the snacks. The talking. I thought maybe if I just—”

“Yeah,” you cut in. “I know.”

You sigh.

“I’m not mad,” you add. “Not really. I just stopped expecting anything. That’s worse.”

He doesn’t argue.

Because he knows you’re right.

Thursday comes.

The parent-teacher meeting is short and mostly good. Your grades are fine. One teacher says you don’t speak much in class. Another says you’re responsible and easy to have around.

Aizawa nods a lot. Doesn’t say much.

When you leave the building together, it’s already dark. He offers to walk you home. You say sure.

Halfway there, he asks, “You still like those vanilla cupcakes?”

You shrug. “I guess.”

He doesn’t press it.

But later, when you get home, there’s a box on the kitchen counter. Two cupcakes inside. Vanilla with a little swirl of chocolate on top. From the corner bakery near the station — the expensive one you used to drag him to once a year for your own birthday.

You don’t say anything. But you take one and go to your room.

The other one is still there the next morning.

Half-eaten, with a bite missing from the frosting.

He doesn’t say anything either.

But he takes it to work with him.

Maybe that’s enough for now.

[chaeuvy]

HEY can i request.. literally anything with aizawa (i am starved for aizawa content like literally)

like literally just write whatever you feel like as long as its him😛😛😛

- 😼

⸝⸝ ＃┆ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆! ⎯ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐀 𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀

summary: While getting ready for another early-morning class, Aizawa Shouta is pulled back into bed by the one person he can never say no to — his loving, dangerously persuasive wife.

warnings: soft seduction, morning sex, explicit content, wife!reader, whipped husband Aizawa, domestic fluff, lazy pacing, lots of kissing & touching, slow & sweet smut, playful dialogue, mild swearing, suggestive teasing, reader gets what she wants, pro hero neglecting duty (for good reason)

wc: 0.6k words.

😼: hi sweets, you’re lucky i just finished my aizawa Drabble <3

The sun barely peeked through the curtains when Aizawa stirred. You felt it — the way his body shifted under the sheets, muscles tensing, that signature sigh he always gave when he knew it was time to get up.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, hair a wild mess around his face. His voice was low and gravelly when he muttered, “I have class in an hour.”

You reached out lazily, arm wrapping around his waist. “Mmm… no you don’t.”

He glanced down, already skeptical. “Don’t start.”

“Too late,” you whispered, pressing soft kisses to the base of his spine, your fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt. “You work too much. Stay. Just… this morning.”

“You said that yesterday.” His tone was dry, but his body wasn’t pulling away. “And the day before. And the—”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted with a giggle, now pressing your body against his back, “But I’m persuasive. And you’re weak.”

“Not weak,” he mumbled as your hand trailed lower, teasing over the waistband of his boxers. “Just… married to a menace.”

“A menace who loves you,” you purred, nibbling on the shell of his ear. “And really wants to make slow, sweet love to you before you go pretend to hate people for eight hours.”

He turned toward you then, hair falling into his face as he looked at you with that half-lidded, utterly whipped expression.

“You know what happens if I stay.” His voice had dropped, deeper now, heavier with want.

“Exactly,” you murmured against his lips.

And he gave in — again — like he always did. He let you pull him back down into the covers, bodies tangling together, kisses lazy and full of heat. The kind of sex that wasn’t rushed or rough — just warm, slow, and intimate. Like you were the only thing on his to-do list that day.

Somewhere in the distance, his phone buzzed with a reminder. He ignored it, choosing instead to bury his face in your neck, groaning as you smiled smugly beneath him.

“You’re going to make me lose my job,” he said into your skin.

“You’re a teacher. You’ll just save someone and they’ll forgive you.”

“Tch. I really should punish you for this.”

You arched into him with a grin. “Then don’t go. Stay. Make me pay for it properly.”

And so he did.

Again.

← MHA ┆ NAVI →

a/n : thanks for reading..

© 2025 chaeuvy ; ━━ do not copy or translate my work !

[revolvingsaturn]

Summary: you take Shota Aizawa to a jazz bar. Needless to say, you don’t last the whole night. Neither does he.

(skip to the ✧.* just for the smut)

🫧🌱

It’s late, you’re sipping your second martini, and the room smells vaguely of cigarette smoke. Aizawa sits next to you in the booth of the jazz club you’d decided would be appropriate for date night, wearing a look of thinly veiled boredom that does nothing to hide the way he keeps staring at the way your middle finger lazily circles the rim of your glass. Or maybe he’s looking beyond your languid fingers, and straight at your cleavage in the low cut, teasingly short dress. You can never tell with Aizawa.

“This is...” You say, gazing absently at the man sat on stage at the piano, only vaguely interested in the way his hands dance along the sharps and flats of the piece. He matches the rhythm of the woman singing, and the pace of the piece only slightly increases when the man in the corner starts plucking at his double bass.

The club isn’t so unappealing, the warm orange light combined with the drifting of music over the tables make for a sultry atmosphere that isn’t lost on you. The music isn’t all bad either, and the toe of your kitten heel taps at the floor to the slow beat of the rhythm. It’s quite pleasant, really, but it’s just…

“Slow.” Aizawa says to your left. You’d almost feel bad for dragging him out to this club, hidden away in a corner near your apartment you wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for your friend pointing it out for you, but the way his forearms look beyond his rolled up shirt sleeves is enough to abolish most regrets.

“I wasn’t aware you had such a thing for fast music, Shota.” You say, still looking at the pianist. “Would you rather I make you listen to Hizashi DJ for the night?”

“God, can you imagine? He’d never let me live it down if I took you out to one of his sets. It’d be like an unofficial staff meeting.” He grumbles next to you. He loves Hizashi really, everybody knows it, but Aizawa’s chronic monotony refuses to let him portray most emotions strongly besides annoyance and tiredness. You see past it though.

“Maybe you should DJ then, Shota,” you say, nonchalantly taking a sip of your martini and thinking about how to get his attention. “I mean, you do have the fingers for it. Nimble, I mean.”

His eyes snap to yours immediately, with an intensity that tells you exactly how the rest of your night is going to go. He doesn’t say anything, just leans back a little and stares you down with a look that has you fighting not to clench your thighs together. And then, you do speak.

“You wanna get out of here?”

You don’t need to ask him twice- he’s already letting you slip your hand daintily inside his and intertwine your fingers together, walking purposefully out of the door and letting the warm light fade away, melting to inky indigo and warm pinks in the city skyline.

Japan is humming, and so are you.

✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

You make it to your apartment with time to spare, walk through your doorframe buzzing with anticipation. You know Aizawa likes seeing you in black- you didn’t put on this dress for nothing- and now he’s going to take it off for you. You hope. He makes you wait, leaves you awkwardly standing in the hallway while he locks the door and places the keys on the plate you received as a present from your students at UA. The keychain jingles, filling your ears with its clinking for a few seconds until it ceases and the only sound in the hallway is your heavy breathing when you turn around to face him.

He paces towards you slowly, deliberately, and then his lips are on yours and cupping your face. Your tongue runs along his lower lip and he groans into a deeper kiss, tongue slipping against yours easily when you part your lips. You go to break the kiss to nip at his neck like you usually do, but he gets there first- he’s gently pressing kisses to your exposed collarbone, along your throat and neck, leaving marks in places he know you’ll have covered up for teaching.

He likes it, likes seeing you in the staffroom chatting animatedly to whoever’s in there knowing if he was to readjust your cardigan or scarf, pull down your shirt just a little, he’d be able to look at the bruises blossoming over your skin from his teeth. He likes knowing, even when you poke your head into his homeroom to ask about photocopying and 1A starts giggling.

He nips at your flesh one last time before he brings himself up to stare down at you. He glances above your head, and you’re already turning around to stumble towards the bedroom and kick your heels off in transit. When you get there, he takes his time making you bend over the bed while he torturously slowly unzips your dress. It pools at your feet until you’re left in just your underwear and a pair of glossy tights. Under other circumstances, you would’ve permitted him to rip a hole in them and have his way with you but you bought these for work, thank you very much, so he makes a show of taking them off too- peels them down your legs and glides his palms across your thighs, squeezing greedily at your bare ass when he removes your underwear too.

He runs a practiced finger down your pussy, parting your folds in the process and running it down to circle your clit once, twice, three times before dragging it back up. Grabbing at your hips and in one swift movement, using the unassuming strength he’s built up from years of hero training, he flips you over onto your back and pushes you back on the mattress.

When did he take off his clothes?

You genuinely can’t recall hearing any belt clink behind you, but you suppose when you’ve got Shota Aizawa of all people standing behind your bent over form you can’t focus on anything other than that. But what you’re focusing on now is the way he’s running a hand down your front again, rolling over your clit and then his finger is inside you, curling and prodding but it’s not enough, a sentiment you whine up at him.

He looks down at you, a grin ghosting over his face at your flushed appearance, and adds a second finger. You moan softly, shuddering when he hits that spot inside of you he likes to abuse and curls his fingers together. You go to clench your thighs together out of habit, but he gets there first with a glare down at you that makes you hesitate.

He drags his fingers out of you, looks like he’s thinking about something, then brings them to your lips and whispers a single word.

“Suck.”

He breathes out in the dim lighting, and you gladly oblige- cheeks hollowing around his digits and tasting yourself briefly before he pulls them out, leaning on the forearm bent next to your head for balance, and shudders when your hand gets to his cock before his. It wraps around it, running a thumb over the tip, and you decide to let him guide himself inside.

Your hand withdraws, resting on the sheets beside you, and fists them when he slips inside easily. Your wetness envelopes him, clenching around his length, and when he starts to move you swear you see stars. Everytime having sex with Shota is like the first time- it never gets old having him groan into the shell of your ear while he ruts up into you and mutters about how proud he is of you for taking him so well.

He keeps thrusting, every movement of his hips to yours feels ten times better when you wrap your thighs around him and scratch down his back. It leaves jagged marks you’ll gasp in horror at in the morning, but he keeps groaning when your hands push lower until you’re actively trying to push him further inside you. He mouths against the junction of your neck and shoulder and almost moans when you squeal at the angle he hits inside you at, your hand shakily rubbing at your own clit.

“Oh fuck Shota, ‘m gonna cum-“ you babble out, whines floating around the room like dust in sunlight when you finally orgasm and arch right off the mattress. You clench around him, pussy squeezing, until he cums too- it takes him a few minutes more, but you don’t mind the overstimulation when you get to have Eraserhead fall apart above- and inside- you. He cums with a quiet moan next to your earlobe, cum sputtering out of him.

He pulls out, lies next to you for a while and savours the sound of your breathy giggles, then drags himself to his feet to return with a damp cloth to clean you up with.

“You’ve got a few missed calls.” You point lazily over at his phone on the floor. Exactly 12 missed calls from Hizashi Yamada. “Maybe we should just invite him over next time and see what happens.”

“I hope you’re joking. Come have a shower.” He doesn’t sleep much, however, look like he considered it for a second.

“It’s too late to shower, Shota… we’ll do it tomorrow, promise.” You’re half asleep, fully naked, and feeling softly elated when you listen to his heartbeat quicken as you lie your head on his chest. He brings up an arm to curl around your back, and you yawn. He doesn’t sleep much, but he falls asleep a little easier like this; you resting on him, leg maybe thrown over his, so close to him you look like a tangled mess of limbs on the crumpled sheets of your bed.

He’s asleep later than you, but still wakes up earlier to make you breakfast the next day.

Although, maybe he should invite Hizashi over next time to do it for him.

🫧🌱

masterlist

(This is totally not me asking you guys how you’d feel about an erasermic x reader threesome)

thanks so much for reading!! Comments appreciated as always :)

(again, side note: how would you feel about a 100 follower special? Sort of a seven minutes in heaven thing where you guys get to poll on who you go into the closet with. just a thought..!)

[confessionsandcreampies]

calling aizawa daddy for the first time, 18+

he usually treated you like something precious. after everything he’d lost, he didn’t take softness for granted. not yours, not his own. sex with him was slow, careful. his hands lingered. his mouth was reverent. he took his time like he was making sure you wouldn’t vanish if he blinked.

and you loved that. gods, you loved the way he worshipped you in whispers and warm touches. you loved the way he pulled you into his lap after long days and kissed your shoulder with a sigh like you were peace itself.

but tonight something different coiled in your belly. he’d just come out of the shower, hair damp, falling over his shoulders in thick, dark ropes. his scarred chest was still flushed from the heat, towel slung low on his hips. and he was tired, always tired, but he looked at you like you were the cure.

he kissed you slowly. pushed you down onto the mattress and hovered above, whispering your name like it was holy. he started to thrust the way he always did, steady and controlled.

but you couldn’t take it anymore. you reached up and grabbed his hair, yanking just enough to make his eyes snap wide. your mouth pressed to his ear, as you mumbled hungrily, “fuck me hard, daddy.”

he froze. for a full second, nothing moved.

then his pupils dilated. something cracked in him. his breath caught like he’d just short-circuited. and when he pulled back to look at you? you saw the heat, and his restraint shattering.

“say that again,” he rasped.

you grinned, wicked. “you heard me, daddy.”

that was all it took. he growled, low and dark in his chest, before flipping you over like you weighed nothing. his hand pressed between your shoulders, pinning you down. the other gripped your hip hard, pulling you back against him.

“you want it rough?”

“yes.”

“then take it.”

he pounded into you deep and unrelenting, all that quiet discipline gone. his hand tangled in your hair, yanking you back so he could growl filth into your ear. words you’d never heard from him before. things you never knew you wanted him to say.

“you feel that, baby? that’s what you fucking asked for.”

“so needy for daddy’s cock, aren’t you? sweet little thing can’t behave.”

“you asked for it. now take it.”

and you did. you screamed his name. you begged for more. you clung to the sheets while he wrecked you with a fire he’d kept buried too long.

when it was over, you were trembling, dazed. aizawa kissed your spine like it was the first day you met. tucked you close and murmured, “you’re going to get me in trouble, baby.”

but the smirk on his lips said he couldn’t wait to be in trouble again.

[kitkat13001]

shota looks up from his papers when you heave what’s probably the most dramatic sigh he’s ever heard. he casts you an exasperated glance before asking a reluctant, “what?”

you look up at him through your lashes from where you’re sat on the other side of the couch, prodding him with your foot. “do you even like me?”

he holds his deadpan gaze for a second longer before returning to his work. “i’m not going to answer that.”

“what?!” you sit up, appalled and scowling. you crawl over to lean heavy on his shoulder, determined to interrupt his peace. “what the hell does that mean?!”

“there’s no good answer for that,” he replies, (mostly) unbothered to your pervasion of his personal space. “if i say yes, you’ll say something like ‘so you don’t love me’ and if i say no, you’ll have a fit. if i say ‘i love you’ you’ll say i didn’t answer your question. there’s no winning.”

you sit, dumbfounded. he’s got you there... 

“but—”

“yes, i like you. love you, even. no, i don’t want to break up. yes, i think about you every day and yes, i miss you when i’m away on missions. and no, i do not want anyone else. just you.”

he looks up and holds your gaze steady, the hint of a self-satisfied smirk tugging his lips at your wide eyes and flushed cheeks. you huff a little, bashful as you settle back onto him, placated by his answer (…for now).

several moments pass in soft silence until you open your mouth to say something else and shota drops his pen, heaving out a long-suffering sigh. 

“and yes, i would still love you if you were a worm.”

[rumisgf]

“ YOUR BEST EATER ! ” (MHA EDITION)

ꕥ summary: rating how well mha men would eat you out ! (this is canon cause i said so)

ꕥ includes: keigo takami, mirio togata, touya todoroki, shota aizawa, katsuki bakugou, denki kaminari, enji todoroki

ꕥ warnings: dom/sub implications, oral f!recieving, dirty talk, crack ofc this is for fun, slander (sorry lol), black!reader as always, timeskip chargebolt and dynamight

KEIGO TAKAMI - ♾️/10

⊗ he’s a REAL eater.

⊗ you have to cry and beg for him to pop his mouth off you because he has an addiction

⊗ he thinks you taste so good

⊗ there’s not one morning his head doesn’t end up between your thighs

⊗ and at events, he’ll find a way to pull you to the nearest bathroom and get a quick one out because you just looked too good

⊗ he loves having you sit on his face

⊗ “imma eat it. AHHHHH”

⊗ he doesn’t care if you just got off of work or if you’re tired he needs your pussy on his tongue stat.

⊗ he’s such a slut.

“please- ‘s too much~!”

“c‘mon i know you got one more, i got you~”

TOUYA TODOROKI - 3/10

⊗ you thought he was an eater…?

⊗ you’re funny.

⊗ yeah unfortunately mr. long dick over here doesn’t like eating pussy

⊗ his ego is bigger than his dick

⊗ however,

⊗ on the rare occasion that he’s feeling extra nice, he’ll do more than plunge his fingers into you before he makes you take him from the back

“o-oh~..!”

“couldn’t help myself…too fuckin’ wet…”

ENJI TODORKI - 0/10

⊗ like father like son (he’s much worse)

⊗ he’s not particularly a…. giver

⊗ he’s a meanie he’d rather manhandle you instead

⊗ he don’t even like his wife and kids so what makes you think he likes you enough to eat you out

⊗ besides….even if he tried…it wouldn’t be…well…good.

⊗ he’s too rough he might bite your shit i don’t know pookie

⊗ if you beg him enough he’ll do it for like a split second

⊗ you immediately regret your decision

⊗ help him.

“wait- it’s ok it’s o-ok. nevermind…”

“what’s wrong?”

SHOTA AIZAWA - 7/10

⊗ he likes to pretend he doesn’t like giving head

⊗ but you catch him on one of those days….

⊗ he becomes a different man

⊗ and he’s mean with it, too

⊗ your thighs will have bruises from the way he forces your legs open

⊗ he likes eating you out before just because he feels satisfied having you weak before he even fucks you

⊗ he’ll edge you and tease you just to have you begging him to cum

“stay fuckin’ still, or you’re not cummin’. understand?”

MIRIO TOGATA - 10/10

⊗ yes i’m sneaking my man in here. i do not care.

⊗ he’s a certified munch y’all hate to say it

⊗ he gets it from fatgum.

⊗ (i would put him in here but then imma get nasty)

⊗ please just sit on his face and give him three minutes you will be dripping before he even puts it in

⊗ he massages your thighs and kisses your clit ‘cause he really is just so in love with you

⊗ not only will he shove his head between your thighs before he fucks you just to get a quick taste

⊗ he’ll clean you up after he fucks you, tastes himself and you

⊗ he’s a huge giver

⊗ please marry him

“such a pretty pussy, baby…’m gonna clean you right up~”

BAKUGOU KATSUKI - 9/10

⊗ oh give him five minutes

⊗ put him between your legs and he’s done for

⊗ he’s a nasty FREAK and he cannot hide it in this predicament.

⊗ he swears up and down ‘he doesn’t eat pussy’ to all his friends and every girl who brings it up

⊗ but if it’s his baby? someone he’s really into?

⊗ you see a completely different side of him

⊗ and he makes everything so messy

⊗ he’s so focused when he does it and when he looks up at you… you are done for

⊗ he can make you cum quick to get you wet enough to just slip in– then he gets right to business

“kats~…”

“taste so good…so fucking good..”

DENKI KAMINARI - 11/10

⊗ y’all thought i wasn’t gonna put him here?

⊗ he refers to himself as an eater

⊗ he has no shame

⊗ he’ll eat it in the morning, for lunch, after dinner, for dessert- he really doesn’t care

⊗ he definitely can get off just from giving you head

⊗ the feeling of you dripping down his chin and the sound of your moans is enough to get him up

⊗ you will be orgasming more than once

⊗ and he can go on for hours if he really wanted to

“my messy baby…you sound so pretty~

©𝑹𝑼𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑮𝑭

[wolfzdestiny]

Hey don't be sad, Aizawa unashamedly being a simp for you okay?

[candytoothed]

"can you just try?" your boyfriend gruffs, his tone gentle as he folds his arms. sitting across from you at a quiet cafe, his fingers lightly caress the back of your hand, sending a flutter through your chest. he's asking you— again— to order for yourself, just this once. he promised, "it'll feel good, trust me," but the thought of speaking up sends a shiver down your spine. you can't even remember the last time you asked for something from anyone.

"yeah, but it's their job to serve you..." he grunted with a tiny chuckle when you'd told him this the last time.

"i know, but i still feel bad..!" you muttered, twisting the hem of your maxi skirt around your fingers. he had grinned, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and let it go.

until now, of course.

he remembers when you were rambling to him one night, frustrated with how you could never speak up for yourself in any situation. you'd felt like a loser. (you are, but he refrained from saying so at the moment hehe)

"just try." he repeats, offering a rare, almost tender smile. you nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips in response. the waitress comes back, notepad in hand as she asks for your orders, starting with your boyfriend.

"mapu tofu— please." he says, closing his menu with a small nod as she takes it from him.

she smiles, turning her attention to you. your gaze drops back to the menu, but it feels like you’re studying it for the first time. “what would you like?” she hums.

"umm," you mumble breathily. you blink at the many food choices, even though you already know what you want.

"i'll have the.. kimbap, please." you speak lowly, your voice quiet and tentative. your hands cling to the fabric of your skirt, shoulders slightly hunched as you unintentionally try to make yourself smaller.

the waitress leans in slightly, smiling sweetly. "i'm sorry, what was that?"

you feel them both watching you and shrivel in your seat. you inhale sharply, looking up to meet the waitress's gaze before quickly looking back down. "kimbap." you repeat, your voice a little steadier now, though your nerves still tangle in your chest.

she nods, jotting it down before walking away, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you can't help but feel a little proud of yourself.

"jesus christ, felt like i was catching your introvertness." your boyfriend teases.

"shut up," you giggle, sliding your drink towards you.

"wasn't so bad, right?"

you shake your head, taking a sip of your drink as if it might help calm your racing heart.

"told ya so." he smirks, nudging your foot with his under the table

bakugou, aizawa, toji, zuko, eren, kuroo, + your favs !

[angel-sweets666]

Sleepy

shota aizawa x afab/fem reader

aizawas always sleepy, what else is he always feeling? Horny

warnings: p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), slight breeding kink, slight praise kink. Sleepy sex, oral f and m receiving,grinding, hand job, fingering Mdni PLEASE. IM TRYNA PROTECT UR INNOCENCE.

a/n I FUCKING SCORED WITH THAT AIZAWA PIC. Tysm Pinterest 😍😍

Aizawa grumbled as he rolled over, the light from the sun spilling into the room past the curtains. He draped an arm across your waist, using his thumb to rub your tummy. Aizawa buried his head into the back of your shoulder, leaving gentle and warm kisses. “Wake up…” he whispered softly as he tried to wake you up “please darlin’” he pat your belly to wake you up. You whines and rolled over to face him “wha?” You tried to rub the sleep from your eye, aizawa grabbed the back of your head softly and pressed your face into his broad chest while his free hand rubbed your back “mornin darlin’” he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his stubble rubbing against your skin “morning…” you mumbled back, a slight giggle came out of you.

aizawa rolled over and brought you with him, making you lay on his belly and chest. He looked down at you sleepily and smiled “your so pretty like this..” he said as he cupped your cheek, you leaned into the warmth of his palm “so pretty..” he admired you. Aizawa found you to be the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. A familiar warmth began to form in his belly, you could feel the hardness under you; your face turning pink.

“noticed did ya?” He mumbled against your skin, tickling you with his breath “yeah…” you replied, your face becoming pinker and pinker. “Do me a favour would you darlin’?” He grabbed you by your underarms with his large hands and sat you up. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow to ask for consent. You nodded and smiled, giving him the green light to continue.

Aizawa firmly grabbed your hips, pressing his hips against yours. You whimpered at the contact of his hardness so close to your warmth. His hands began to move your hips against his, a grunt escaping his throat. You moaned softly, feeling his dick pressing up against you. “G-good girl.. good girl.” He let out, his grip on your hips becoming tighter and tighter. You squeaked as he rutted against you “mmph.. hold on..” he pulled you away from his hips, taking the time to pull his boxers off. “Be a good girl and suck me off will you?” He asks, freeing his dick from the cloth. You nodded and climbed to a more comfortable spot right between his legs. Aizawa sat up so he could watch you. You licked the base to the tip, a groan coming from aizawa. You kept licking the side of it, before taking the whole tip of it into your mouth. He groans loudly and grabs a fistful of your hair, pushing your head down on his dick. “Mmph..” he let go once you found a pace that wouldn’t make you choke on it.

you slowly pulled his length out of your mouth, using your spit as lubricant you slowly began to stroke his dick. Aizawa groaned and leaned onto your shoulder “so good… such a good girl..” he lightly pulled on the ends of your hair, leaning in to kiss your cheek. As you pumped his dick his breath became hitched, deep grunts turned more into desperate whines. Eventually cum spilled from the pink tip of his dick, he panted slightly and reached to scruff your hair “your turn now hm?”

you found yourself gripping the bedsheets under you as his tongue went deeper and deeper inside your core, his large hands gripping your thighs to keep them apart. Aizawa pulled his tongue out of you to lick your clit, drawing a whine from your throat. “You always taste so good..” he mumbled, sticking two fingers into his mouth before sliding them inside of you. You moaned and arched your back “please please-“ you whined,Squeezing your eyes shut. “Shhh it’s okay, your doing so good for me darlin’” he pumped his fingers inside of you, curling them in certain places. Aizawa leaned back down to lick your clit, gazing up at you to watch your reaction. You clamped your thighs down on his head “I’m close.. I’m close..” your breaths became ragged as aizawa pulled his fingers out of you, replacing it with his now much harder dick.

both of you let out a pleasured moan before he impatiently began to thrust inside you “g-gonna.. put… a baby in my good girl…” he leaned down to kiss your neck, you moaned and gripped his back, leaving scratch marks on his already scarred back from fighting as a hero. His pace became quicker and harder “cmon cum with me…” he mumbled, his dick stretching you out. His thrusts became sloppy after a minute, signing that he was close. He bottomed out balls deep into you and then filled you up with cum.

both of you panted, you looked up at him “round two?” You smiled “I have work darlin’ sorry” he pulled out and kissed your cheek, helping you put some clothes back on after cleaning the two of you up.

[socialobligation]

Hi! 😭 I really like your SMAU stories/scenarios, i think they're so funny and I love reading through them. So with that, can you do another dadzawa one? I loved that one, I love dadzawa. Make it anything as long as it includes dadzawa and brainrot lol. And maaaybe also another part where they say 'I love you'? Just out of nowhere? Please? 😭

parental oversight | s. aizawa

being aizawa's daughter means sharing the house with a sleep-deprived cryptid and 3 cats (part ii to 'parental guidance')

[yamsfrecklvs]

(fem reader, smut, mdni)

thinking about cockwarming aizawa as he grades papers. it’s late at night and he looks extra handsome in the dimly lit room, hair tied up, his face serious, jaw tight. he props you onto his lap and has you facing him while he slides his cock into you and tells you to keep still and be a good girl for him - and you can definitely feel him relax the second he’s inside you. he’s so big that you swear you can feel him in your guts, and it’s sooo hard to resist the urge to move your hips and fuck yourself on his cock. still, shouta swears that he’ll fuck you later if you behave (and you know he will even if you don’t), so you keep quiet and cuddle up against him, your cheek squished against his shoulder as you lean your head on it. he’s got a pen in one hand, the other coming to caress your back, his calloused fingers so deliciously soft against you - as if he’s afraid he’ll break you.

it drives you crazy.

then, an idea pops up into your mind. you grab his arm, guiding the same hand that was cradling you to your lips. he pretends to pay no mind to it, but even the slightest of your movements doesn’t go unnoticed. you eye him for a couple of seconds, trying to study him. he isn’t looking at you, but his index and middle fingers are grazing your lips, almost like a reflex. amused, you open your mouth, sliding his digits inside all the way down to your throat as you suck on them.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

his gaze immediately shifts to you, and when you two lock eyes and he sees you looking at him like that, doe-eyed and seemingly innocent as you stare at him through your pretty lashes, he can’t help but give up. he doesn’t show it immediately, but you know you won the second you feel his cock twitch inside you - he’s done for.

well, actually, you’re the one who’s done for.

since you like to use your mouth so much, he might as well just give you something to keep it busy. two minutes later you’re on your knees under his desk, choking on his cock as he fucks your throat, his big hand bobbing your head up and down his length, soft tears clinging to your lashes, mascara smudging. you look so soft and sweet, the most beautiful sight ever, his angel. the way you sound, the way a mix of drool and his pre drips down your mouth, how obscenely filthy and ruined you look right now, all because of him - it’s perfect. you’re perfect. what’d he think about not wanting to break you?

oh, well.

and shouta knows that he should play nicer with his beloved, darling girl. but since you like to act like that, he might as well be as rough as he wants. right?

he knows you love it, anyway.

@yamsfrecklvs - i’m just very down bad for him mmm i need him so bad also this was very vaguely proofread pls ignore any errors i’m lazy

[dee-writes-anime]

I LUV YOUR AIZAWA STORIES SO MUCHHHH!

Could you do a Dadzawa x reader where the reader was S@‘d from the neighbor and when he arrived home at midnight he saw her getting comforted by Hizashi since she was too scared to tell Aizawa? LOTS OF COMFORT PLS.

(I UNDERSTAND IF THIS REQUEST MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. IM JUST REQUESTING CUZ I DIDNT GET COMFORT WHEN THIS HAPPENED TO ME.)

Erasure Lines

FEATURING Shouta Aizawa x Reader (PLATONIC), Hizashi Yamada x Reader (PLATONIC)

SUMMARY you thought it was fine. That if you just got home and locked the door, you could sleep it off. Oh how wrong you were.

CONTENT WARNINGS implied sexual assault (non-graphic), aftermath of assault, trauma response, dissociation, panic, crying, reader feels unsafe in their own body, protective Hizashi Yamada, protective Aizawa Shouta, heavy emotional themes

AUTHORS NOTE this story touches on sexual assault and emotional trauma. I know this stuff can be really hard to read, so please look out for yourself first—take breaks, skip parts, or close the tab if you need to. Your safety and mental health matter way more than anything else. Be gentle with yourself, okay?

It was just a knock. A quick, rhythmic thunk thunk thunk on the other side of the wall that separated you from your neighbor—the one who always smiled too wide, stood too close, stared too long. You never liked him. But you'd been trying to be polite. You were raised to be polite.

He said he just needed to borrow a charger. Five minutes, tops. He already knew you were home. You didn't want to seem rude.

You shouldn’t have opened the door.

By the time you got him out of your apartment, your hands were shaking. You locked the deadbolt, shut all the windows, turned off the lights. You scrubbed your hands twice. Then again. You changed your clothes. But your skin still itched. Like it didn’t belong to you anymore.

You sat on the floor of your bedroom for maybe ten minutes. Maybe thirty. Time stopped working.

You texted Hizashi. “Can you come over? Please.”

He didn’t ask questions. He was there in ten.

You didn’t realize you were crying until the door opened and his voice rang out.

“Hey, hey, I’m here—what’s—oh my god.”

You were on the floor. Back against the wall, arms wrapped around your knees, hoodie sleeves pulled down so far they covered your hands. The same hoodie Aizawa gave you when he noticed you’d been cold last winter.

Hizashi dropped to the floor beside you instantly.

“What happened?” he asked, voice soft at first—too soft. Like he already knew something was really wrong.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “Don’t—don’t make me say it.”

He didn’t. He wrapped his arms around you without a second thought and pulled you close. “You’re okay now. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

And you broke.

The sobs that came out of you didn’t feel like yours. They felt too loud, too guttural, like they belonged to someone else in a different body.

Because you couldn’t feel your own.

Your arms felt too long. Your hands didn’t belong to you. Your skin was tight and itchy, like it was still holding his fingerprints.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” Hizashi whispered again, one hand on your back, the other combing gently through your hair. “You’re not alone.”

You clung to him like a child, shaking uncontrollably. “I didn’t—I didn’t let him in like that, I just—he said it was just a charger—I didn’t think—”

“He touched you without your permission,” Hizashi growled. His voice was still low, but there was no mistaking the fury behind it now. “That’s all that matters. That was his choice. Not yours.”

You nodded shakily, trying to believe it. Trying to stop feeling so wrong in your own skin.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to see your face.

“Do you want me to call the police?”

You froze. Your breath hitched.

“Okay,” he said quickly. “Okay. Not right now. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You leaned forward again, and he let you. You felt small. Dirty. Hollow.

“He’s not gonna get away with this,” Hizashi muttered, one hand still on your back. “I swear to god, if I see that creep—”

“Hizashi,” you choked, your voice hoarse. “don’t be mad, it’s not—it wasn’t that bad.”

Hizashi pulled back just far enough to look you in the eyes.

“Don't say that.” His voice cracked like something barely held together. “Don’t downplay what he did to you. You don’t have to do that with me.”

You blinked fast. Your breath came in short, shallow bursts.

“I just didn’t want to make it worse—if I said no, I thought he’d get angry—I didn’t know if he would hurt me—so I just…” Your voice trailed off into nothing. A whisper swallowed by your own shame.

“You froze,” Hizashi said firmly, finishing the thought. “Because your body was protecting you. That doesn’t make it consent. That doesn’t make it your fault.”

Your lips trembled, and you finally let your head drop to his shoulder again.

“I want to take a shower but I don’t want to be alone,” you mumbled.

“You don’t have to do anything right now. You don’t have to be alone for a second.”

His arms tightened slightly, grounding you, his tone gentling again. “I’m staying right here, okay? Right here. You’re safe.”

You sat like that for a while. The tears came and went in waves—some sharp and gasping, others quiet and slow. Hizashi stayed solid next to you, talking only when you needed him to, keeping a steady presence.

Then— The front door clicked. Your whole body went still.

It wasn’t the neighbor. You knew that. The neighbor wouldn’t use a key. But your gut still flipped, and you shrank into Hizashi’s side on instinct.

Then came the sound of boots. The keys hitting the hallway table. A long pause.

“…Yamada?”

You heard the voice before you saw him.

Aizawa.

You closed your eyes, heart climbing up your throat.

A few seconds passed. “Hey, man,” Hizashi called out, calm but not casual. Protective. “We’re in the living room.”

You heard his footsteps approach slowly. Hesitant. A little sharper than usual.

Then he stepped into view.

And stopped cold.

You couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear to see his face. You just pressed yourself tighter against Hizashi and tried to disappear into your own skin.

A beat passed. Then: “What happened?” Aizawa asked, low and level—but not cold. Careful.

“She doesn’t want to talk about it yet,” Hizashi said, his hand still running slowly along your back. “But something happened. With her neighbor.”

You felt Aizawa’s presence move closer—like a shift in the air. His silence stretched for a beat too long.

“Can I sit down?” he asked gently.

You gave the smallest nod.

He crouched beside you slowly, like you were a hurt animal.

When you finally looked at him, he was already looking at you. And he looked—soft. Not angry. Not disappointed. Just tired and worried and here.

“I should’ve told you,” you said hoarsely, not even sure why those were the first words out of your mouth.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he said. “Not right now. Not unless you want to.”

You stared down at your sleeves. “I thought if I told you, you’d be mad. Or think I was stupid.”

His jaw clenched—subtle, but enough to see—but his voice stayed calm. “I’m mad at him. Not you. Never you. You did nothing wrong.”

The words hit harder than they should’ve. You felt your mouth tremble again.

“I just—he didn’t look dangerous. He just smiled. And I didn’t think he’d—”

“You don’t have to justify anything.” Aizawa moved in a little closer. “He used your trust against you. That’s on him. You didn’t fail. He did.”

“I feel like my whole body’s… off,” you whispered. “Like it’s not even mine anymore.”

At that, Aizawa’s hand moved—slow, deliberate—and hovered just above your shoulder. “Can I…?”

You nodded.

He rested his hand there. Light. Warm. Steady.

“You don’t have to stay in that feeling,” he said quietly. “We’re gonna help you out of it. One step at a time. You’ll feel safe in your skin again. I promise.”

You reached out blindly and grabbed the front of his shirt like a lifeline. And without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms and held you tight.

Not suffocating. Not overwhelming. Just safe.

Hizashi rubbed your back, his voice softer now. “We’re not going anywhere. Okay? You’re not alone in this.”

You cried into Aizawa’s chest until your throat went raw. And both of them—neither let go.

You stayed in that cocoon of quiet, steady care for what felt like hours. And when you finally whispered “Can we just sit here for a while?”—

They both answered at the same time, “Yeah.” “As long as you need.”

[destinyintomadness]

Domestic Bliss

Paring: Aizawa x Reader (no use of y/n)

Summary: A drabble of your relationship with Aizawa and a peek into your life with him

Tags: Established relationship, f/reader, comfort

Warnings: mentions of violence, crying (both only slightly mentioned, nothing heavy or really described)

Authors note: So this is the first fanfic I have ever written and I wanted to do it as a soft, comfort, loving vibe. Something to make you go "awhh" and all in great fun. I always imaged what domestic life with Aizawa would look like and I hope I gave the write vibes. This has not really been proof read so I apologise for any mistakes. I welcome any feed back as I'm hoping to get into more writing so any tips would be apricated ❤

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to MHA or the characters. This writing is for self entertainment and not profit

Masterlist

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

Both you and he worked demanding jobs with even more demanding hours. Aizawa once described it was 'soul sucking' but you knew he understood the important roles you two played in society. In fact, you believed if it wasn't for these 'soul sucking' jobs your paths would have never crossed.

You had only been a nurse at the main hospital in the city for twelve months when you first met him. You had heard of the underground hero Eraserhead but you didn't have a face to the name. Actually, only a handful of people did. Despite his career he managed to stay out of public view. You admired that. Not that you didn't admire other pros, far from it. You had treated enough of them to understand what they put on the line to keep others safe. You had to have some hard truths with many of them, warning them of permanent consequences but they rarely took it to heart. It's not in their nature to worry about themselves. In some way that's what made them hero's, their ability to risk it all.

The evening you met Aizawa, it was beginning of your night shift. He had been admitted with a head injury and a couple of bruises. He had been on patrol all evening when a small group of villains had broken into a bank. He recanted the story of how someone snuck up behind him in a attempt to knock him unconscious but they were unsuccessful. Every other sentence he spoke was him insisting the visit was unnecessary and he didn't need to be made a fuss over. You weren't sure which one it was, his soft voice or his gentle demeanour, but you were drawn to him. You felt it. Although you did not dare act on it, that would be unprofessional and cliché.

Oh but how cliché it was. Six months after your first encounter with Eraserhead you swear not a week would pass before he blessed you with his presents again. This is how you learnt that he was also a teacher at UA on the hero course. Most of his visits was him accompanying a student who had managed to hurt themselves one way or another. On the odd occasion Aizawa was admitted himself, he was accompanied by his childhood friend Present Mic, although he insisted you called him Mic, who was always more than happy to tell you how much Aizawa actually cared for his students and was a big softie at heart.

True to Mic's word, you learnt yourself what a caring man he was. You had come across him in a bar during a staff Christmas party. You were several drinks in at that point and you suspected so was he. He had asked if you were free the next evening and such would fate have it, you were.

That was several years ago now. It was hard for you to imagine the life before him. Once you two begun to live together everything just fell into place. You'd be lying if you said it was all sunshine and rainbows, especially when you had the jobs that you did. But there were many times you felt close to heaven. Times like this.

It had been a long stint of back-to-back shift but finally you had a rare weekend free. A much deserved break. The timing wasn't perfect since Aizawa was on patrol for a couple of hours but the knowledge of him coming home was enough to motivate you. Wearing one of his black shirts that loosely hung on you, shorts and throwing your hair into a lose pony tail, you powered through cleaning and organising your shared apartment. It wasn't huge but that's what gave it it's charm. You two didn't do big and flashy, you wanted to share a home and the one bedroom apartment of the edge of the city was perfect.

Domestic cores brought you back down to earth. The stress and nature of the hospital had taken it's toll on you more than once. There have been a couple of times Aizawa has come home to find you in tears. He never panicked, never fussed or rushed, he would always hold you to him, stroking your hair and reinsuring you that you were safe. It would be when you calmed down that he encouraged you to talk but never pressed. Never made you feel less than for simply being overwhelmed. He never told you to quit either, he knew you loved your job and you were only human. Sometimes life gets on top of you and you needed to let it out.

You had been deep in thought whilst washing stray dishes you hadn't heard Aizawa come home. It slightly startled you when you felt his hands on your hips and his body pressed against your back as he rested his chin on your shoudler.

"Jesus, babe!" You exhaled through your nose as the jerk of your hands caused the soapy water to drench your front, "You scared me," You tried to sound annoyed but you couldn't help the subtle playful tone.

He let out a soft chuckle before pressing his lips against your neck, humming in content, "I'm sorry, I thought you would have heard the door," His hands moved to circle your waist, clasping together and resting on your stomach as you leaned back into his embrace.

"You got my shirt wet,"

He pinched the front of your now damp shirt, pulling the fabric off your skin, "I believe this is actually my shirt," The feeling of his breathe tickled your neck as he spoke, causing you to fidget in his hold, "It looks good on you,"

Even after all these years, you couldn't help the warmth that crept onto your cheeks. He never failed to make you feel attractive, feel wanted. Without being asked he had always reinsured your silence insecurities. Being a pro hero must have taught him how to read people well.

You turned your face in a weak attempted to hide your flustered expression. You should have known better. Aizawa trailed his hand your front before settling on your chin before turning your face to look at his, comforting dark eyes making contact with you.

"Don't hide that express from me," He smirked, "I earned that," He quickly pressed his lips to yours before you had the chance to smear his face with the dish bubbles knowing well enough your face went several shades of red. He let out a laugh when letting you go and making his way to the fridge.

"That was unfair," You whined, he knew exactly how to get the reaction he wanted out of you. You would never admit this to him but you enjoyed this game. It made you feel like a pair of youngsters flirting. "How was patrol?" You asked, turning back to finish the last glass.

He let out a sigh before closing the fridge after grabbing a bottle of water, "Nothing too exciting. Mostly reports of sightings," He pinched the bridge of his nose, "The commission has been getting tips about some villains that have been on our watch list for months but I am yet to see them myself," He slightly shook his head before opening the water bottle and taking a drink, "Even though they're not causing any real trouble right now it doesn't make them any less of a threat,"

You had drained the water out of the sink before drying your hands and facing him, "You can't help what you can't control," You took a couple of steps so you stood in front of him. Aizawa wasn't that much taller than you but he was tall enough that you had to tilt your head up to look at him. You cupped his cheek, rubbing your thump over this rough stubble. He was warm and despite his undergrown facial hair, the skin underneath was soft. "You do your best and that is all anyone can ask of you. As incredible as you are, you are only one person," You gave him a soft smile, "Don't run yourself into the ground. You can't be anyone's hero if you're burnt out. Besides, the kids will never forgive me if you get yourself unwell with stress,"

He closed his eyes, covered you hand with his and signed with content. His spirit animal had to be a cat with the way he practically purred at your affection. In the privacy of your home you found Aizawa craved physical touch. He wasn't demanding or overbearing about it but you could tell the relief he felt when he received it. You were always more than happy to give him what he needed.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" He asked, his voice coming out just above a whisper. He didn't open his eyes as he kissed the palm of your hand.

"Everyday," You brought up your other hand so you could hold him completely, bringing him down so you could return the favour. His arms came back around your waist, settling on the sole of your back to bring you closer so he could deepen the kiss. You hummed at the sensation. He felt like home. He tasted like forever.

You broke the kiss first feeling the the still wet shirt against yourself, the coldness startling you.

"My shirt is still-"

"My shirt,"

"The shirt is still wet," You said through gritted teeth but couldn't stop the smile, "I need to go change," The grin he gave you gave away his thoughts, "No, I don't need your help,"

His pout was half hearted. It was almost enough to make you take it back. You were still in his embraced, he didn't seem too bothered his own shirt was now slight damp but it didn't seem to bother him unlike yours.

"Go have have a shower," You raised an eyebrow at his comment, "I can smell the cleaner. I can only assume instead of resting, like you should be, you have been doing house work," His expression mirrored yours, "So go take a shower, go change and I'll start dinner," He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before letting you go and rolling up his sleeves.

"But you only just got home. I can shower later and make something now if you're hungry," You retorted. You may have been on your feet all day but so had he.

Whilst you protested Aizawa was already pulling out pots and ingredients. "It was a drag today, hardly anything difficult. You probably had more of a workout than I did. Honestly, I need to do something that makes me feel productive," You understood where he was coming from. You also knew him well enough. Aizawa saw sharing a home with you meant sharing it. This meant more than sharing a bed every night. He felt slightly guilty whenever you did house work and he wasn't home to share the responsibility. He knew that was never your intention and you did it out of your own will. But it was not in his nature to just take, he was more of a giver at heart. He was never going to feel like he could relax until he had done his part.

You smiled at his back. A genuine smile. This man was a dream. You don't know what you did in a past life to deserve him, all you knew was that you were strangely thankful that the villain decided to hit him on that day. You certain your paths would have crossed eventually but something about the events leading up to that day felt fitting. How a strangers choices led you to the life you have today, with the man who treasured you.

[melodiesz]

⊹₊⟡⋆ Head is wicked ⭑.ᐟ

Aizawa loves eye contact in situations other than just hero work !! warning: nsfw, oral sex

“Mind making me one too?” a voice called out, followed by a head popping into the doorway.

You turned from where you were setting up the kettle to prepare a nice, relaxing tea before bed. “Yeah of cour-“ you stopped mid-sentence, mouth hanging open when you caught sight of him.

Aizawa was leaning against the doorframe, fresh out of the shower with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, v-line adorned with a mouth-watering happy trail.

Your eyes ogled his abs and biceps before trailing lower and lower down, frowning when what you wanted to see most was obscured by the towel.

He noticed your gaze, obviously, and sighed like he was questioning life itself.

“Close your mouth before you start drooling.” he grumbled, cheeks tinged pink at your relentless staring.

“I know something I can drool on.” You grinned, earning a judgemental glance your way.

“You’re shameless,” he groaned, but you quickly noticed the way his cock was rising and making a clear imprint in the thin towel—just begging for your attention.

You smirked and made your way over to him, tracing a finger down his still slightly damp chest to feel those toned muscles yourself. “and you like it,” you point out, earning a huff from him that leads him to adjusting the towel to no avail.

His eyes follow you when you drop to your knees in front of him, giving him a sweet smile before tugging down the towel swiftly and nearly being hit in the face when his length bobbed up. He let out a surprised huff at your restlessness.

“You can’t wait to move to the bedroom?” He raised a brow, and you shook your head.

“Want you now,” you answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Demanding.” he murmured, but you didn’t miss the way his hips subtly inched forward to press his flushed head against your lips.

With a knowing smile you waste no time in spitting on your hand before wrapping it around his cock, feeling him twitch in your grasp when you started to pump your hand up and down.

At the same moment you lick a stripe up his cock, tongue tracing the prominent vein on the side that had his teeth grinding from the sensitivity. When you reached the top you pressed a wet kiss against his tip, eagerly licking up the dribbling precum.

He looks down at you with his hooded eyes, a flicker of lust in his gaze before they rolled back in his skull when you took him into your mouth.

Sucking his fat tip like a lollipop, you pushed your head further and further—hand still pumping the area your mouth didn’t yet cover.

He brought a palm to his face to stifle the loud moans threatening to spill at the feeling of your warm mouth enveloping him, swallowing inch after inch without any hesitance.

When he finally bottomed out with his tip brushing the back of your throat, your fingers stayed wrapped around his base as you took a second to breathe through your nose.

Your tongue swirled around him, focusing on that one vein that had his hips jerking and cock forcing its way deeper into your throat. You choked around him, making him curse and pull you off of him swiftly.

“shit- sorry sweetheart.” He ran his fingers through your hair apologetically—an innocent action that had a less so idea sparking into your head.

Leaning into his fingers threaded into your hair, you suddenly blurted out, ”facefuck me.”

His worried expression turned to surprise and he was now the one to choke. “Come again?” he blurted, and you fought the urge to make a suggestive joke about that too.

”Use my throat,” you repeated, blinking up at him with desperate, wide eyes you knew he couldn’t resist. “Please?”

He released a shaky breath before the gentle fingers running through your hair turned to a firm grip. “The things that come out of your mouth—” he grumbled, other hand lining up his cock with your mouth.

“—so filthy.” He tapped his flushed tip against your lips a few times, smearing the mix of pre and spit like a lipgloss. He pushed into your mouth slowly, eyeing the way you swallowed him up eagerly.

His head tilted back in pleasure when you took him to the base again, the happy trail that started this in the first place brushing against your nose.

Just like you demanded requested, he bobbed your head up and down his length, using your throat for his pleasure. Breathing through your nose, you looked up to once again admire his toned abs that flexed every time you swallowed around him. He looked back down at you, mouth open and panting and eyes locked onto yours.

His eye contact was strong and you suddenly felt awkward under his gaze, looking down instead at where his dick appeared then disappeared into your mouth as your head was maneuvered down it.

All of a sudden he stopped, heavy cock sitting idly on your tongue. You looked up at him with a confused expression, pussy dripping when you were met with the dark look in his eyes.

“Did I tell you to look away?” he asked, and you made a muffled sound of confusion around him.

He pulled you off of him, hand moving from your hair to the side of your face to cradle it.

“I said, keep those gorgeous eyes on me.” he ordered, his deep monotone voice making you clench your thighs together in desperation. He wiped some drool off your chin affectionately, a direct contrast to the rough way he shoved your head back down his cock.

You choked around it, moaning loudly and sending vibrations that had him groaning. “Come on, you were staring so shamelessly at me before, why so shy now?” he chided.

Drool was spilling from your lips and your cunt throbbed at the way he manhandled you up and down like a toy. Your eyes watered when you gagged around him, but still you managed to look up at him with teary eyes.

He smiled devilishly and wiped a stray tear from your cheek, hips thrusting into your mouth at the same time his firm grip brought your head down.

He was twitching wildly in your mouth and you knew he was close, sucking him harder and paying special attention to that sensitive vein and his fat tip.

“Ugh- fuck, yes. Just like that,” he praised, moaning desperately and moving his free hand to grip the doorframe for dear life.

With his eyes still on yours, you winked up at him cheekily, and that was it. He tipped over that edge and came hard.

“oh, fuckkkk” he moaned, head tilting back and fingers tightening in your hair as he spilled down your throat. His abs tensed, cock jerking as it pumped load after load down your welcoming throat.

He kept up his movements until his high was finally ridden out and his breath evened, hips stilling before pulling you off of him with an obscene pop!

You were gasping for breath, choking with a mix of spit and cum dripping down your chin into a messy puddle on the ground. He gazed down at you lovingly, moving to grab the discarded towel to wipe the mess off you.

With a whine you rubbed your sore throat, earning a forehead kiss in apology.

“I’m sorry, pretty. Was I too rough?” he asked with a guilty expression.

You shook your head. “No, I liked it,” you smirked, wincing at the rough feeling of your throat when you spoke. He chuckled and helped you off the ground, motioning for you to go rest on the couch.

“How about I make you that tea,” he hums and you nod in agreement.

[sammywritesweirdness]

🍃Stoner Aizawa Headcanons🍃

TW: Drug use(duh), Suggestive, Nsfw under cut!

Stoner! Aizawa who’s apartment is dark, quiet, and smells like weed and thick cologne. Think cool-toned lighting, not many decorations, and cat toys everywhere

Stoner! Aizawa, who is softer than you’d expect. A little touch-starved, a lot cuddly

Stoner! Aizawa, Gets oddly philosophical mid-makeout like he’ll say something like: “Isn’t it weird how your heart isn’t where your actual center of gravity is? …Anyway, kiss me again.”

Stoner! Aizawa, who keeps his stash insanely organized. His rolling tray is cleaner than his kitchen

Stoner! Aizawa who likes to rub lazy circles on your thigh with his thumb while talking about space or whatever he’s teaching right now in his classes

Stoner! Aizawa who gives you the most breathtaking kisses ever, when awake his kisses are soft and warm but when he’s high, he kisses you like he needs it

Stoner! Aizawa who gets touchy when high. Not aggressively but suuuuperrr lazy, and possessive. Hands resting on your thigh. Fingers tracing circles on your lower back.

Stoner! Aizawa is all about slow-burning intimacy. He’s not in a rush—he wants you to squirm. Wants you to beg. And he’s gonna enjoy every second of it

Stoner! Aizawa loves eye contact when he’s eating you out. If you look away he’ll pull back just to look up at you and say:

“Don’t look away. I wanna see what I do to you.”

Stoner! Aizawa who lovessssss breath play !!! Just enough to fluster you. Hand resting lightly around your neck. Presses down just a little and blows smoke in your face. He’ll just coax you with saying: “Breathe, baby. I’ve got you.”

Stoner! Aizawa who doesn’t move fast. He makes you ride it. Keeps one hand planted on your hip, one behind his head, just watching you fall apart on top of him with this smug, lazy smirk