#shota aizawa drabble

[dabisbratz]

PLAY DATE (CHERRY)— aizawa shouta x male reader

wc: ~6.5k

cw: dilf!aizawa, babysitter!reader, sexual tension, slow burn, spanking/impact play, finger-sucking, d/s undertones, daddy kink, praise, manhandling, age gap (21 yr old reader, 41 yr old aizawa), porn with plot, size difference/kink, spit/drool, degradation, rimming, hand holding, full nelson, creampie, breeding kink, light feminization

a/n: yes i was listenin to lana while writin this! howd u know?!

The click of a mouse. The sound of a scroll wheel grinding against plastic— rubbery and restricted. A family of five, four, three..family oriented individuals with more kids on their hands than time. It was late, even for you. Who scoured the internet until the sky’s inky black atmosphere was painted a pacific blue. From there, you’d tend to sleep into the late hours of the evening, beneath the comfort of a heavy weighted blanket, until your phone went off or a nightmare pulled you from your slumber.

Your dry, tired eyes trace the blurry words of your computer screen, the bright white light beaming through the depths of your continuously darkening bedroom. The room is almost radio silent— save for the occasional crunching of chips between your teeth and the fan of your laptop working overtime. The text is almost hard to read, shying away behind a hazy glare.

‘One kid—6 year old girl. One pet— black bombay cat.’

Sounds promising. The letters are arranged in a blunt manner, straight to the point and even somewhat intimidating, but the clear boundaries and requirements listed are fair enough.. Maybe even tilted in your favor. Your cursor wanders, ready to further inspect the profile presumed to belong to the parent who created the listing.

Shouta Aizawa, a middle-aged man with a salt and pepper beard, long hair to match, and a distinctive scar below his eye— which looks milky and clear. The other, however, is a deep pool of brown, warm like melted chocolate. His irises melt into his long lashes, which remain straight and strict, much like the demeanor he emits in the headshot photo. It must be reminiscent of his ID, as his career is listed just below his picture.

Owner of Eraserhead Industries.

Huh.

Chewing the fleshy insides of your cheeks, your eyes dart across the screen, hesitantly inching the cursor over the bright, bolded ‘message’ button. Sparks ignite in your stomach, blooming in the expanse of your tummy as you type out,

‘When can I start?’

You hear yourself squeal, pushing away your mouse with your fingertips and hiding behind the warmth of your palms before your computer chimes in response. The message stares back at you, perforating into you as you read it over and over, trying to imagine how this—practicably— rich man would sound. You settle for a deep voice, giggling to yourself as you read out the message.

‘The sooner the better.’

The man is much scarier in person, and your imitation of his voice was nowhere near accurate.

His voice is much deeper than you thought, gravelly and not nearly as riddled with giggles like you’d tacked on. In fact, it only seems to deepen as he nurses a mug of black coffee, just one large hand completely shielding the cup in its entirety. He’d ordered it, busying himself with the sheets of paper he had placed upon the polished table as you explained just how much whipped cream you’d wanted in your milkshake to the waitress.

He takes up most of the space on his side of the booth in the homely café, his layers discarded and shed along the plush seating. The man with dark eyes, Shouta Aizawa, is a natural born leader. The physical embodiment of sticks and stones, seemingly stronger than Zeus himself, he seems to have no faults.

But that’s not what you should be focusing on, not now, when you’re preoccupied with narrowed, umber eyes. They look at you with nothing but impenetrable suspicion, remarkably intimidating despite belonging to someone who looks incredibly angelic. Tufts of frosty hair, unruly and disheveled and divine. The sun dawns down on Musutafu, framing his locks in a makeshift halo. He looks like a fallen angel, of sorts.

“I don’t trust my kids with other kids,” He says, watching the dark amalgamation of caffeine swirl in his porcelain cup. Does he consider his cat to be his kid, too? “How old are you?”

You perk up, straightening your back as you push your straw in and out of your sickeningly sweet milkshake. Whipped cream clings to the plastic, sticky and bubbly with foam, “Twenty-one, sir.”

Aizawa makes a face at that, steely eyes drooping further with the pinch of his dark eyebrows. They slot perfectly, intricate wrinkles firming between them. Did you… fuck it up? You’d consider yourself an adult— comparable to law, anyway. And you can be mature, especially when it counts, so there shouldn’t really be a problem!

It’s evident he loves his kids, despite the hard exterior that he’s showing off there’s a fatherly glint to his eye. A protective overlay to his words. It’s admirable, if anything. You’d even call it charming, the way his eyes bore into you from the outside-in and pick you apart, if it wasn’t so damn scary being on the receiving end.

“Do you drink?”

“…No?”

“Do you plan to?”

More of an interrogation than anything, you take an awfully long time to reply as you use his suspension as an opportunity to savor your milkshake.

“No.”

You make sure to sound more confident this time.

His questions have been asked before, over text and in a manner not as… blunt as you hear it now. But it’s all down to perception, and you’d managed to wrongfully pin Shouta Aizawa as a care-free, laid back guy. Though, from the looks of it, he seems to live up to the ladder. And, upon closer inspection, it does nothing to tarnish his looks.

“Mm,” Is all he says, humming in acknowledgment as a check is placed his way. “You’re young.”

“Young enough to be your son?” You ask, mouth faster than your brain, and suddenly you can’t stop. Your lips curl upward, a smile gracing your lips as you giggle, “People probably think you’re my sugar daddy or somethin’.”

He doesn’t seem to completely respond to that, letting the comment fly into the air as he shifts. Heat somersaults into your face, heating your body up until you find yourself unable to hold eye contact. Nice going.

You wrap your lips around the plump cherry slowly sinking into your drink, twirling the stem between your teeth. It explodes in your mouth, sharp and sweet along the expanse of your tongue, a nice distraction.

Something alien flickers behind his eyes, “Tech savvy?”

“I— Yeah! I play video games,” You almost forget this is an interview, not a date. The thought makes your brain a little fuzzy, cotton forming in your mouth as you stumble over your answer. “Not— Y'know, never on the clock.”

Shouta looks much more vulnerable with his head turned, his veiny hand reaching into the pocket of his inky pants, pulling out an equally dark credit card. No way. His handwriting is illegible, but the swooning waitress deems it acceptable, thanking him for the tip with a high blush on her cheeks. There isn’t a single ring on his calloused fingers, so it’s almost shocking he doesn’t jump at the opportunity

“Good. Eri likes games.” It’s the most praise you’ve heard all night, and hearing it from the deep rumble of his throat makes it even better. Your gaze must linger, because his dark eyes are staring back into yours, almost looking right through you.

“Eri? Your daughter?”

“I don’t like sharing personal information online.”

You laugh nervously, filling your mouth with the melting drink before he can comment.

“I—Woah, sir… your home is… beautiful.” It’s not just flattery, you genuinely, sincerely mean it. You’ve seen it before, sure, through text and under much more professional scrutiny, but the camera doesn’t do it justice. His house aches with love, wrapped up in kisses and enveloped in a sweet, cinnamon-scented embrace.

There’s a heavy amount of childish memorabilia, like crayon drawings hung up on his stainless steel fridge, miscellaneous toys littering the floor, and a pair of tiny shoes resting next to your own. They look comically small, glittery and pink and utterly, indubitably, reminiscent of a six year old girl. Especially in comparison to the sleek, black sneakers Shouta slips off next to them. Utterly, indubitably, reminiscent of a forty-one year old man.

Aizawa makes his way through the living room while you marvel in astonishment, taking in the sights of his house. Surprisingly, despite his not-so-settle display of wealth, his home is the opposite. It’s the real thing, with lived-in floors and comfy furniture..lively and bright. Sure, his sofa is a muted gray, but the portraits and polaroids and children’s drawings make up for it.

You follow along, nearly tripping over some misplaced barbies and action figures as you quickly remove your shoes and stumble forward. Like a newborn fawn, unfamiliar to its own legs, you walk forward with a bashful smile.

It was almost easy for you to forget that he’s human, and not some strong-willed work-machine designed to finish tasks and take care of children.

But the way his joints pop when he shifts a certain way, the way sweat trickles down his forehead after a long day of working in a stuffy office, proves otherwise. It was then, you realize, that he is all flesh and bones. Not pen ink or an indestructible force.

“Eri’s… picky. Try exposing her to different foods every now and then, there’s a list of recipes she likes on the fridge.”

Shouta’s leaning against the marble of his open-island kitchen, socked feet melting into the cold tile. You half-expected his socks to be just as dark as his clothes, so it’s a pleasant surprise to see cartoonish cat faces littering the fabric.

Right—anyway. You nod, though it’s mainly reserved for yourself, as your eyes rake up the words stuck to his fridge. Freshly printed out, not an inch out of place, you wonder how many times he’s done this. The gears turn in your head, clicking and grinding until your lips part, a breathless expression keyed into your facial features. Wait.

“Does that mean—”

“I’ll text you the extra details. Eri’s bedroom is upstairs, but you should wait for her to show it to you when she’s ready.”

Your apartment is a flimsy excuse of a home, nowhere near as intricate and thoroughly loved as Shouta’s. Walking inside, you realize just that, there isn’t even a hint of glitter or gleam as you walk through the front door. Even though you have yet to meet her, Eri’s already brightened up your life. Your walls scream with loneliness, the sound bouncing off each corner until you’re tucking yourself into bed and curling up beneath the sheets.

And though you barely know him, you can’t help but want to follow the childish urge to open up the website you found Aizawa’s listing on to study his headshot.

Eri, you’ve come to learn, is a very smart kid. Perhaps too smart for her own good, too observant, and way too excited to express said observations. You sit taut on the gray sofa, leaning over a sheet of paper as you carefully color between the lines of the thick, inky, coloringbook outline. But Eri’s got her own leaflet, vigorously coloring something she has yet to allow you to look at.

You haven’t known her long enough for the leaves to brown, to fall off and make room for winter. You haven’t known her long enough to see the leaves return, the chilly air slowly descending into something softer, quieter. Warmer with summer’s welcome. But she grew to accept you rather quickly.

It started soon after your first meeting with Aizawa, and to your dismay, you hadn’t really seen much of him after that. Only small traces and fragments, like the religious filling of Present Meow’s food bowl or notes tacked onto the fridge.

Admittedly, you kinda miss him.

You’ve become quite engrossed in Eri’s choice in television, watching the cartoon with just as much excitement as the six your old. It even makes you laugh, hearty and dinkum.

“How do you feel about niku-dofu for dinner tonight, Er-bear?” She barely moves, her tongue held between the corner of her lips as she furrows her brows in concentration. Whatever she’s coloring is much more important than dinner, apparently.

With outstretched limbs, you stand, reaching for the sky as a yawn is pulled from your chest and your eyes grow heavy. Being dragged along by a six year old all day is exhausting. The hairstyling, the nail-painting, the hero-pretending…the dolls.

(Eri quite enjoyed acting out soap-opera levels of dramatic scenes with dolls. And, of course, you could only be the man in these scenarios.)

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve grown attached in the span of a few weeks.

“I’ll take that as a yes then!” You chirp, setting down your finished page with a sense of pride. Might even have to add a signature to it!

With Eri’s toys scattered along the floor, despite your constant advisory to clean them up, walking through the house has become quite the challenge. An obstacle course of sorts that Aizawa must’ve been a master at getting through.

Aizawa… With dark circles that cast shadows down his mature face. With stubble that’s cleanly shaved, not a single hair out of place.

Aizawa…With his long, dark hair that frames his face with thick bundles.

Aizawa… Who almost constantly looks disgruntled, faintly pink lips pulled into a tight line.

Him and his signature crisp, black button up that barely fights against his large chest and his matching pants that cling to his stupidly strong thighs.

It makes your brain a little fuzzy, the thought of his equally large biceps bulging in his shirt as he crosses his arms and stares down at you through the bridge of his nose. And his eyes— piercing and domineering staring straight into yours, lips curled as he berates you like some sort of misbehaving child.

(Which you’d spent a lot of time arguing with him about through sticky-notes…The fridge is powered evidence, covered in neon paper as you remind him you’re ‘not a kid!’ beneath his ‘not bad, kid’ post-it note.)

“Hey? Are you okay?” Eri’s small voice snaps you out of your haze, wide and virtuous red eyes blinking up at you. Clutching her drawing to her chest, she shifts her weight between each leg. Her small smile is gone, so you do your best to conjure up a frolicsome grin.

“Never felt better! Finally ready to show me what you’re working on?”

“Mhm,” She hums, reminiscent of her father.

Eri’s picture is nothing short of sweet. Advanced for her age, she’s drawn three figures that resemble the three of you— herself, Aizawa, you— sitting happily at the generously furnished dining table. On her lap sits Present Meow, a black ball of crayon-esque fur, who has small, wobbly hearts above his head. You all do, actually, some bigger than others (e.i: you quite literally have heart eyes that take up more than half your crayon face), but big nonetheless.

Is your crush on her father really that obvious?

“Oh, Eri, that’s—”

The front door trembles, the doorknob clicking and jingling as it welcomes silver keys. Before your eyes, Shouta’s welcoming himself in, strong right arm pushing the door open. His shoulders are draped in exhaustion, his gray scarf tangled around his neck as he shuts the door behind him.

Embarrassment wells up in your stomach, overflowing until you’re hiding Eri’s drawing behind your back. He doesn’t typically come home this early. Usually within the late hours of the night, into early morning, he can be seen rummaging through the fridge for a drink until he heads upstairs, straight to bed.

Instead, he’s stalking forward.

Did his steps always shake the house like this, or are you just imagining it? You must be, it must be your heart in your ears, because your face is flooding with warmth as he towers over you and peeks over your shoulder.

“What’s behind your back?” He lifts an inquisitive eyebrow, faintly smelling of cigarette smoke.

“What? Noth—”

“Look!” Eri snatches the drawing from your clammy hands and pushes it into Shouta’s abdomen. He hunches over, just slightly, before taking in the image.

“Jesus, kid,” He clicks his tongue with a tenderhearted sigh, looping his thumb around the waistband of his black slacks. “You’re somethin’ else...”

You’d have thought it was meant for Eri if his gaze didn’t flicker up to meet yours.

Dinner rolled around fast, and you’d found yourself nicking your finger on one of Shouta’s large, sharpened knives. Cutting up a small portion of potatoes shouldn’t have been so trivial, a pained gasp escaped your lips as you pinched the tiny wound. You wince, instinctively sucking on the skin of your mangled finger.

“I told you to be careful,” He took your hand in his, swallowing it whole with his palms, and went as far as to berate you, grumbling, “Watch yourself. Are you okay?”

Breathless as you watched him open a nearby drawer, he pulled out a kiddie bandaid, decorated with polka dots and even more cats. You held still, letting him wrap the bandage around your finger nice and tight. And then, only then, did he place a small kiss on top.

“There you go, all better.” It’s a passing comment, only pried from his lips because he was so used to saying it to Eri, and he didn’t seem to realize just how flustered it made you. So you coughed into your hand, secretly hoping the warmth permeating off his body would return to your skin.

Now, with dinner finished, Eri has no problem shoveling the food into her mouth. Must've been all the running around, gave her an appetite fit for a grown woman. It’s not like you have room to talk, you’ve almost choked on your side of miso soup a whopping three times. Shouta seems to be the only composed person at the table.

“You got a little,” Shouta points to the corner of his mouth, waving his willowy finger in a quick, circular motion. “Right…there.”

“Hm?” He watches your face contort, timid and self conscious. He can’t help but smile, just a small upward quirk to the corner of his lips, that slowly disappears as he leans in to wipe off a few grains of rice from the side of your mouth.

There he goes again, acting all domestic, as he raises the same finger to his own mouth. Your pupils blow wide, heat forming in your stomach as he sucks off the rice with disregard for how this might look to anyone besides a father.

Your eyes flicker to Eri, who’s too busy fighting off sleep with the handle of her silver spoon, her tiny head jerking and bobbing every so often, to notice the display.

“I guess—- guess it’s time for bed!” Your voice cracks embarrassingly loud as you stand, quick to stop in your tracks when Aizawa follows suit.

“I got it.”

Aizawa, you’ve learned, says that quite a lot. Despite his generous hourly pay and your obligation to take care of his child, he insists it’s best if he cleans after her. Too intimidated to argue, you simply nod, falling back onto his couch as he ventures back for forth— upstairs and back.

Each time he returns, he notices the droop in your eyes, the way they slowly fall with each step he takes. It’s late, he should be escorting you home, but he doesn’t want to disturb your well-earned sleep session.

As he sits to finally take a break, letting his joins snap and pop, you fall face-first into his shoulder, smashing your cheek against the firm skin.

Your lips pucker, pouty and almost fish-like. Your boyish face, soft and not yet worn down by the tiresome nature of time in itself, looks undeniably cute. Perfect for kissing and irrevocably inviting. Your eyes are shut, lashes resting against your cheeks. Time stops, minutes passing within hours, as Shouta takes in your essence and stares down at your innocent face. Stealing a kiss would just be… so…easy…

“Fix your face,” He says instead, clearing his throat and directing his gaze to the dimly lit, yellow-tinted lamp resting on the end table placed by his half of the sofa. “Or it’ll get stuck like that.”

“M’sorry.” You whisper, bashful as ever despite the slippery hands of sleep reaching back for you. Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?

It makes Aizawa want to retract his statement, press his thumb into the unobtrusive crease forming between your pretty eyebrows. But it leaves before it has time to arrive— to settle, as your body relaxes once more. He observes for a moment, the dip of the couch as you finally sink your weight into it, the debt collectors contracted with sleep finally having caught up with you.

Preserving himself through all these years, none being particularly good to him, he wonders if you’ve faced any similar endeavors. He’d hate to leave you alone, cold and barren as another side of his bed remains despicably untouched, only the ghost of what could have been keeping him company during this sleep-centric night. Your breaths are slow and steady, lips briefly parting to mumble something he can’t quite grasp. Shouta tries anyway, tucking his stubbly chin against his collarbone as he leans forward.

His face is dangerously close, a mere inch separating the gap between his lips and soft, supple skin. With your head nuzzled against his shoulder—broad and wide—your words dispel into the thin fabric of his t-shirt. Alongside a fine layer of drool, something he's all too used to, that slowly spreads the deeper you fall into undisturbed sleep. A heavy sleeper then, he presumes.

Shouta keeps you close, pressing your body against his as he loops his other arm behind your legs and hoists you up. He’s careful to avoid any furniture, holding you with an iron grip as he steps up the creaky stairs. His hair bounces with each step, curly and dark, flowing down his back and streaked with gray.

“..Zawa…” Nearly dropping you, his mismatched gaze locks onto your face. Blissed out and camouflaged with slumber, you stir in his arms. “Kiss me ‘lready.”

Aizawa clears his throat, neck constricting as it tightens around the air. It’s fine, just a baseless comment, he decides, as he slowly opens his bedroom door, careful of the noise. You don’t seem to move after that, dozing in his arms until he’s setting you down into his bed. He really hopes you don’t mind it— he doesn’t have a guest bedroom, after all.

It’s dark in his room, blackout curtains covering any sliver of radiance from outside streetlights. So he flicks on the lamp on his bedside table, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest as he lifts his arms overhead to remove his shirt. Something cold prods at his back, and before he can shed the clothing, Shouta redirects himself to look back at you.

Half asleep, your foot creeps under the comfortable fabric of his shirt. You must’ve discarded your socks in your sleep, because you’re rubbing your eyes with balled up fists as if you’d just woken up. Doesn’t stop you from speaking, vocal cords strained, “S’this the part where we cuddle?”

Aizawa watches you shimmy out of your pants, obviously groggy and irrational from having just opened your eyes, your warm skin slowly being exposed inch by inch. You must overheat in your sleep.

“No, it’s not,” He groans out, sucking in a sharp intake of air as he takes in the mural being painted in front of him. “Go back to sleep, kid.”

“Don’ wanna,” You mumble, much more awake as your eyes hone in on the skin of his back that he’s partially exposing. “And I’m not a kid.”

“Sound like one.” You hear him grovel under his breath, almost as if you were meant to hear it. Aizawa has quite the ability to be silent when he wants to, he can creep up on you without you ever noticing. So you suck your teeth, sitting up in his bed.

He expects you to respond with something witty, something he has to pretend he doesn’t find funny. But you don’t, instead staying uncharacteristically silent. Had it not been the dip in his mattress, he would have assumed you dissolved into thin air.

God, how you hope he won’t find you childish for this.

“Sir, I,” Shouta stiffens, his hair falling from behind his ear as he turns to fully face you. “Can I kiss you?”

“Can you..” He trails off, watching your bottom lip jut out. Plump and shiny, Aizawa resists the urge to sink his teeth into it. How soft would they feel? Would you cry into his mouth if he bit too hard? Anything in his hands becomes fragile, and he wants to know how far you can bend before you break. “Can you kiss me?”

He doesn’t give you time to respond, grabbing your ankle with his rough hands to drag you down into him. Your pretty eyes widen, large and unsuspecting as he crashes his lips against yours, feverish and desperate.

His tongue swipes over your lower lip and eagerly awaits yours, tasting faintly of cigarette smoke and cinnamon. Undeniably Shouta, you can’t help but whimper into his mouth, tangling your fingers into his disheveled hair. His mouth is warm and wet— almost searing hot, and you can’t help but choke on your own breaths. You sink into the kiss, floaty and dumbstruck by his urgency.

Like a starved man, he pushes you down on your back and tangles his big hands in the waistline of your boxers, tugging the elastic apart until it rips with a ‘snap!’. You’re exposed, legs instinctively closing to shield your half naked body.

“Aht-aht. Sit still,” Aizawa hand quickly latches around the base of your dick, sending shocks of electricity up your smaller (in comparison to his) body. You tug on his wrist, eyes burning with unshed tears as he stares down at you, predatory and famished. “When’s the last time you played with this pretty cock? Did you think of me?”

He doesn’t give you time to speak, instead spitting down onto your cock with a thick, shiny glob of spit. You can’t help but moan, watching it slide down and heat up through his fingers. His hand envelops you entirely, big and warm and squelching as he accentuates his words with particularly sharp pumps.

“Oh, sweetheart,” His voice sounds condescending and feignedly sweet, you swear you could cum just from hearing it. “S’been a while, huh? Yeah? S’why you’re leaking all over my hand?”

You feel yourself nod, quick and enthusiastic as you melt into his palm. Your legs turn into jello, numb against his warm sheets, as your toes curl and your back slowly inches off the mattress. Shouta’s eyes are lidded and heavy, drinking you in and burning you from the inside out. You keen, pulsating in his hand until the warmth is suddenly gone, and you’re blinking away frustrated tears.

“No—!”

“Greedy brat,” Shouta’s quick to shut you up, large hands sinking into the plush skin of your thighs as he spreads your legs open impossibly wide. “Fuck, got a greedy hole on you too.”

Your hole clenches in response, eager to have his attention. You can feel a trail of precum and spit soaking the area, warm and wet, not yet reminiscent of his cum. Soon enough, you hope, he’ll be filling you to the brim and then some. Your hands, somehow forgotten, scramble to unbutton his dress shirt.

Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, you gasp in retaliation to his big hand clutching your jaw with indescribable force and pressure. Trying to leave finger-shaped bruises. Your lips part, tongue pushed free from your squished cheeks as you blink up at him, eyes dancing between one milky-white iris and another, only chocolate brown.

“Go on, say it. Tell Daddy you’re a greedy boy with a greedy little hole,” He’s spitting into your mouth, a thin trail of saliva indirectly connecting his tongue to yours. “You can do it, sugar.”

Oh. Oxygen disconnects from your lungs, dumbly blinking up at him with a garbled moan. You can’t speak if you wanted to, not with his hand around your jaw like this, so you settle for swallowing down his spit with a feeble smile. All you can push out is a mangled ‘Daddy!’ but Aizawa seems to take that for an answer, groaning as he hikes your knees up to your chest, sighing when you squeal in response.

His big, warm body is pressed up against yours, much bigger and stronger, and it’s apparent in every movement he makes. He’s able to push you around, flip you over and push you down with barely a finger, and you’re sure his hand can cover the entirety of your face. You moan, wanton and sweet in his ears as he maneuvers your arms to keep your legs up.

“Gonna take real good care of you,” Shouta— Daddy sighs, hunched over and breathing dangerously close to your entrance. Almost like he’s talking to your hole instead of you, and you’d protest if it weren’t for the hot, wet stripe he’d just licked down from your perineum to your hole. Your body feels warm and tingly, legs twitching as his tongue prods and pokes deeper and deeper, slowly slipping inside. “Gonna let Daddy take care of you?”

He’s sure to make it messy, adding generous amounts of drool and spit along your sensitive hole, eating you out like he gets paid to do it. He makes you lay there and take it, holding your legs open like some cheap whore, settling between your thighs with feverish and hungry kisses. Making out with your hole, you watch with heavy eyes and a gaped mouth.

“Yeah, yeah..” You moan subconsciously, a constant stream leaving your pretty, parted lips. He takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with his fingers, long and scarred as his fingertips run along your pink tongue. His fingers taste vaguely of salt, and you can’t help but suck on them, eyes fluttering in content.

You barely catch it, a small kiss being placed on the curve of your jaw until he’s freeing his fingers from your mouth. He resists the urge to shove them down your throat, watch your eyes get glassy and wet as you gag on his fingers like you would his cock.

“Gotta get this cunt nice n’ ready. Watch me eat you out, boy,” His voice has dropped several octaves—if that’s even possible—thick and heavy and reverberating straight into your hole. It’s like he knows you by heart, even if this is your first time together, because he’s slotting his thick, scarred fingers in along with his tongue. “Such a pretty hole. Matches your face.”

Through the haze you’re still able to mumble out a quiet, “Thank you,” timid, small, and broken up between moans.

“Good boy, still remembering your manners,” He sounds just as breathless as you, pressing his fingertips against the special spot inside of you. Your body jolts, a shriek ripping from your throat as he puts pressure on it, bullies it with his fingers, and follows suit with his tongue. Too much. “Shh, I know. Try to stay quiet for me.”

For me. The implication has you whining, high in your throat and pitiful as you nod to no one in particular, wiggling in your boss’s hold. For me. The implication has you whining, high in your throat and pitiful as you nod to no one in particular, wiggling in your boss’s hold.

You want to be good, be the best boy you can be, but you just can’t help it. The complete opposite of what he’s told you to do, high off his fingers as your body clenches and your moans grow louder and louder, fingernails digging into the soft surface of the back of your knees. He just presses and presses and—

Stops. Abrupt and fleeting until his hand is back, but instead in the form of a harsh slap right across the back of your thighs. Your sit spots.

“Wh- mm-mm…! Waitwait..Daddy—!” You’re stunned, stuttering and stumbling over your words as you fail to recollect what just happened. You press your face into your knees, bunched up tight as tears spring in your eyes. “That hu—urts.”

The pout in your voice is evident, and Shouta can’t help but coo. Especially when your cock, lodged right between the thickness of your thighs, jumps and leaks more precum. His own throbs in his pants, leaking into his underwear and leaving him sticky. God, he can’t wait to feel your hole twitch around his dick.

“You’re a big boy. I know you can take it, you said it yourself, didn’t you?” And there it is again, the fog that casts over your brain as you can only think of being good. Good for Shouta. Good for your Daddy.

There’s a sharp smack right on top of your little hole, the entrance winking back in retaliation as you sob into your knees. The pain doesn’t last long, simmers down and is easily replaced by heat when his fingers rub soothing circles around your rim.

“Daddy,” Your voice comes out much sweeter and wet, letting out a small sniffle as you peek out to watch him place open-mouthed kisses against your hole. “Want you.”

“You have me, boy,” His heart melts, and a soft smile creeps up on his handsome face. His tie dangles as he shifts his weight, opening his bedside drawer to pull out a condom and cherry flavored lube. Ironic. “Now let me in, wanna make your pretty fuckhole cream around my cock.”

“Wait,” You rasp, watching him tear open the packaging with his teeth. You’re still breathless and shaky, but you’re trying your best. “Wanna feel you. Wanna feel you inside me.”

Aizawa’s deep groans are music to your ears, and your eyes threaten to roll back into your skull when he frees himself of his shirt and sheds his pants. His dickprint is big and thick, throbbing in the fabric and sticky with fresh precum. You want to taste it. His cock springs free as his briefs drop to the floor, slapping against his abdomen and weeping.

You watch him fuck his fist, pouring the slick lube down his cock and warming it up with his palm.

“Yeah? You want it? Gonna listen to Daddy so he can put his thick cock in that sloppy little hole? C’mere before I shoot into my fist.”

You nod so hard it hurts, squeezing your shaft to stop yourself from cumming to his words alone. Your cock twitches in your hand, hard and wet as Shouta walks forward to meet you at the edge of the bed and scoops you up into his arms like you’re weightless. It must be easy for him, seeing as he’s so much bigger than you in every way.

“Won’t fit—”

“Shh,” Like he knows what you’re going to say before you can utter it, Shouta lifts you into the air with ease, and you can feel his cock pressing against your puckered hole. “We’ll make it fit.”

Your back presses against his chest, upright as he loops his arms around the backs of your knees. You’re spread wide, and with Shouta’s strong grip, all you can do is sit there and take it. You can feel him twitch and throb from the inside-out, his cock gushing pre as you sink down onto his cock. Your eyes roll back, wanton moans and a chant of ‘DaddyDaddyDaddy’ filling the air as snaps his hips, barely letting you adjust.

His dick is stretching you open, thick and long, and pulsing and veiny as you feel it bulge in your tummy, pushing past your rim and filling you up.

“Thought about this for weeks,” Your breath catches in your throat, and suddenly you’re too far gone to answer. “I—yeah, should’ve fucked you in that café.”

From the… Start?

Heat pools on your stomach, his cock punching your insides and kissing each sensitive ridge with every movement he makes. Your moans are unintelligible, barely even coherent, as he fucks into you, lifting you off his cock again, and again, and again. Cock-drunk while his dick rearranges your guts, drool slips from your mouth and down your chest.

You look pathetic and ruined.

“So cute like this, pretty baby. You make the dumbest little faces when you’re fucked stupid on Daddy’s cock, but still so damn cute.”

His cock drags in and out of your plushy walls, precum and lube making a creamy concoction along his shaft with each thrust. Your face is stained with tears and drool, mouth open wide as you pant and whine.

The knot in your stomach tightens, your hole beating around his cock as Aizawa moans, and you feel your body go numb as you shudder and convulse. You’re cumming, and your smaller hands squeeze his big ones as he uses you like a fucktoy, bouncing off his lap with tiny, “Mm, mm, mm’s.” Your hole grips him like a vice, swallowing his cock deeper and deeper until you feel warmth flooding your stomach, your balls tightening by the second.

“Da—addy please, m’cummin’, m’cummin’!”

“There you go, smart little boy,” Shouta groans loud in your ear, twitching in your tummy when you clamp down on his dick. He wants to fuck his cum into you, you deserve it. You deserve his cock, you deserve his load, you deserve to be stuffed full until you’ve milked his dick for all he’s got— all it’s worth. “Just keep bouncin’, so fuckin good at it, gush on my cock. What d’you say, baby? What d’you say to Daddy?”

You wish you could see him, the grit of his teeth as his thrusts turn sloppy and messy. But you know he can see you, staring down at the cum painting your chest as it squirts out your cock in thick, rapid ropes. Mixing with your tears and drool, you know you look like sex on legs, eyes void of everything but the need for cock.

“Thankyouthankyouthank—fu-huck,” His cock is jackhammering so deep you can barely breathe. “Thank you, Daddy!”

“Gonna make you just like Daddy, gonna make you one too,” It must send him over the edge, the sounds of your hole squelching as he scrambles your insides, because he’s quick to shoot a creamy, hot load of cum straight inside you. “Wanna be a big boy so bad? Then—fuuuck— take it like one.”

He gives a few last slow, deep thrusts inside so his cum really takes, carefully freeing your legs as you collapse onto him with a breathy moan.

“‘Zawa…”

“C’mere, brat,” You’re quick to whine, weakly pressing your face into the expanse of his large chest, all tears and snot and cum as he cradles your head between his large hand and his even larger chest. You feel protected in his arms, shrinking even smaller into his lap as your eyes slip closed and his cum leaks down your thighs. “You’re a good boy. My good boy.”

Shouta’s hand is ablaze when he brushes it along your forehead, soon after replacing it with a gentle kiss. He means it.

“Let Daddy take care of you.”

[thehusbandoden]

His Everything -Soft!Aizawa x Pregnant!Reader

Mwahahaha~ I'm writing again TuT (yes yes I am quite dramatic.) Once again not knowing what the freak to do with the title :')

Fluff, fluff, and fluff. | 503 words | Second person | Fyi- if you ever see a change in my writing or writing/formatting style it's bc I am still trying to find my style, so it can change a lot.

Blinking open your eyes, you frowned at the darkness surrounding you, instinctively glancing at the clock. It was 2:23.. am. Grumbling, you reached over to cuddle into your husband; Shota, only to frown deeper as you felt his side of the bed not only empty, but cold.

Wrapping your comforter around you, you waddled out of your shared bedroom, hand resting on your buldging belly. Walking towards your livingroom, you sighed as you regognized the dim light of your livingroom lamp. Shota was working late. Again.

"Shota~ how many times do I have to tell you to give yourself a break and sleep?" You pout, crawling onto the loveseat next to your husband of three years.

"I'm almost done Kitty." Shota murmurred, eyes glued to the several papers he was working on.

"What is it this time?" You yawn, crawling into Shota's lap, wary of your precious bump.

"Nothing nothing- I'm just looking over safety precautions that they're putting in place to help protect the students, and they're papers for internships. Oh and grading some school work. I'll be done in about an hour or so."

"Okay.. so why do you have to do that now?"

"Because between teaching, training, extra training, and caring for you and our baby- I don't have time in the day, Love."

"Okay.. how can I help?" You ask, smiling up at your beloved Shota.

"Kitten, you don't have to. You're eight months pregnant, you need your rest, just get back to bed." Shota smiled, leaning down to peck your lips before going back to his work.

"But I'm not even tired! Please~."

"I don't know.."

"The sooner you get done and cuddle me~ the better sleep I get~!" You grin, causing Shota to smile down at you.

"Fine." Shota sighed, a soft smile on his lips.

You just giggled before turning around, facing the coffee table, excited to finally be able to help Shota, just how he's helped you since your first day middle school.

~The next day~

Humming, you smiled as Shota held you against his chest, whispering words of affection and encouragment.

"I love you Kitty." He smiled, kissing the shell of your ear softly.

"And we love you too." You smile, causing him to chuckle and rub your belly lovingly.

"You know.. I hope that he's like you." Shota whispered, kissing your forehead.

"Well I hope he's like you."

"I said it first, Kitty~." Shota teased, moving to leave kisses to your belly.

"Yeah- well-"

Shota silenced you with a kiss to your lips, completely grabbing your attention.

"Shhh it's okay, Love. Just go back to sleep, I'll be back some time this evening."

"Okay." You pout, leaving another few pecks onto Shota's smiling lips.

Shota just chuckled before kissing your belly and lips once more. "See you tonight my love. I love you."

"Love ya too." You smile, gaze soft as Shota made his way out of your bedroom, mind already moving onto work as he regretfully left his everything safely tucked away.

Like this: Comfort

Aizawa's Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Requesting Rules

Requests, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!! Please don't be shy, there's no judgment here <33

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

[grapementos]

How would Mha characters react when they find out your injured? (Requesting for Bakugo,Izuku,Kirishima,Aizawa and Denki! More can be added to ur liking!) ❤️

title

『 ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ꜱɪɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴀɴᴛʟʏ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ. 』

⤷ ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴋ. ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ, ᴋ. ᴅᴇɴᴋɪ, ɪ. ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪʏᴀ, ᴇ. ᴋɪʀɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ, ꜱ. ᴀɪᴢᴀᴡᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⤷ ᴄᴡ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ, ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ

you’d been too confident, too sure of the power that your quirk held. you misstepped, miscalculated, was three steps behind the villain as they swept you off your feet—not in the good way.

your head slammed against the ground as your legs crumpled beneath you, your ears ringing so loud it hurt your brain. your vision blurred, but you fought to focus again.

just as the villain moved to strike again, you rolled over and jumped to your feet, using the adrenaline to attack when they weren’t looking.

thankfully, your blow landed, but thanks to their quirk, it mirrored the damage and sent you flying.

you groaned as your back met a solid wall, the taste of iron filling your mouth, “fuck.”

thankfully, your head was left unscathed this time around, so you were able to pull yourself back up and strategize. adrenaline ran hot through your body, numbing the pain of the two recent attacks.

you attacked, but without your quirk, staying out of their line of vision. finally, when they weren’t paying attention, you used your quirk to finish the job.

you slapped some cuffs on them and called the police and then one of your sidekicks, letting them know your state and that you wouldn’t be able to make it back on your own.

once you hung up, you dropped down against the wall, the pain finally caught up to you, red-hot all over your body as you slowly slipped out of consciousness.

-

❥ katsuki stormed into the infirmary of your agency, wildly searching for you. the moment he laid eyes on you, relief evident all over his face.

“oh god, are you okay?” he grabbed your hand, squeezing it tight.

you coughed, your free hand resting on your ribs, “yeah. just a little banged up.” you lifted your shirt, showing the blossoming bruises, “you should see the other guy.”

he wasn’t laughing, not even smiling, “why didn’t you call for backup?”

“thought i could take ‘em.” you mumbled, a little embarrassed at your own weakness, “sorry.”

he sighed and shook his head, skimming his thumb over the back of your hand, “we can talk about it later. i’m just glad you’re okay. no permanent damage?”

you shook your head, “just a crap ton of pain. concussed. too much light hurts my eyes.”

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “i’ll stay with you and make sure it’s as dark as you need it to be.”

“thanks, kats.” you smiled, giving his hand a light squeeze, “thanks for coming.”

“of course, baby. the moment i found out you were hurt, i started running over here.”

“you ran?” you giggled but stopped once the pain in your side grew to be too much.

“yeah, was a couple blocks away. don’t laugh, i don’t want you to get more hurt.” he frowned.

“‘kay, i wont. i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

❥ kaminari nearly stumbled over himself as he busted into the infirmary, eyes already red-rimmed after he’d heard the news. you felt the nervous energy buzzing off of him as soon as he stepped into the room, a faint hum being heard as his quirk interacted with the lights.

once he saw you, he was immediately by your side, hands on your cheeks, “are you okay?”

he was just a bit too loud, hurting your already throbbing head.

once he noticed you wince, he apologized and spoke at a whisper, “sorry, love. how are you feeling?”

you nodded, “i’m okay. just bruised and have a bit of a concussion.”

his face was pained just at the thought of you being hurt, “as soon as we get out of here, we’re gonna lay down, watch movies with the blinds closed and lights off, and take it easy.”

you smiled at the idea, “sounds amazing, kami.”

he kissed your hand, “then hurry up and get better, okay?”

you nodded, slowly and carefully scooting over to make some room for him on the bed, "lay with me?"

he grinned, carefully claiming the spot next to you. it was a tight fit, but he was able to lay by your side without causing you any pain.

"think i'm gonna nap." you mumbled, looking at him with tired eyes.

"alright, i'll be right by your side, baby."

❥ midoriya was a mess when he finally walked through the door, having stopped at the store to pick up anything you might have needed, including an extra pair of clothes.

"sorry i didn't get here sooner," he placed the items on the bureau, "i thought you might need some food and clothes. i know your quirk takes a lot out of you, not to mention your injuries, so--"

"izu," you stopped him, squeezing your eyes shut, "just come be with me, please."

he shut up, making his way over to you, "how're you feeling?"

"i'm okay. i should've called for backup," you reached out for his hand, linking your pinkie with his.

"yeah, you should've, but now you'll know for next time." he assured, "i'm just so relieved that you're okay. i hate that you don't have a partner."

"don't." you stopped him, cause you knew exactly where this conversation was going, "you're not quitting your agency and joining mine or vice versa. we're doing good, izu. this was just a bump in the road."

he sighed, pulling up a chair next to your bed, "yeah. okay. i know you can handle yourself, but it still scares me."

you smiled, "well, i may not have one for all, but i can handle myself. i just got cocky today. i'm okay, izuku. we're okay."

he nodded, seemingly convinced by your words, "alright, i trust you. now, get your rest. i'll be here."

you kissed his hand, "i know you will."

❥ kirishima all but tore the door off its hinges to get into your room. he was by your side faster than you could've even kept up with, worry and fear evident in his eyes.

"are you okay? your commissioner called me an--and, i came straight here--they didn't give me any specifics, i just--"

"woah, eiji," you grabbed his hand, placing it over your heart, "feel it? i'm okay. just got thrown around a little. kinda part of this whole hero deal."

he calmed down at the feeling of your heart thrumming against his palm, an significant amount of stress rolling off his body in waves, "yeah, okay." he whispered, getting his bearings, "sorry, sorry, i just.. i assumed the worst."

"i know you did. you always do, but i'm here, and we're together, and everything's okay." you assured, intertwining your fingers with his, "i just wanna go home w'you already."

"i know, but i think they're gonna keep you here overnight," he frowned, "i'll stay here with you. sleep on a chair or something."

"you can sleep with me, ei." you rolled your eyes but immediately regret it when even that hurt your head, "just don't crush me in your sleep."

he shook his head, "no way. i can't risk that. really, i'll just ask for a cot or something."

you knew he wouldn't budge, so you nodded, "fine. but you're holding my hand all night."

he grinned for the first time, showing you that blinding, sharp smile that you love, "duh."

❥ despite how calm he usually was, aizawa swung the door open to the infirmary, scared and a bit angry.

"do you want me to scold you before or after i ask if you're okay?" he frowned, approaching your bed.

"get it over with." you couldn't help but grin, ready for the reminder of all the mistakes you made that landed you in the infirmary in the first place.

he narrowed his eyes, "backup, y/n. the entire point of having sidekicks and being a hero out in the public eye is that you have backup--visibility. you're strong, but you're too self-reliant."

"you think i'm strong?"

his eye twitched. he really didn't see the humor in your situation, but it was you, and he could never stay mad at you, "y/n, you're insufferable, but i'm being serious. being a hero means knowing when to call for help, so please, for my sanity and your health, can you master that skill?"

you sighed, knowing he was right, "yeah, i can. i'm sorry. i just got cocky after i moved up in the ranks this past week."

"that's why i chose underground," he muttered, "numbers get in your head and make you think you're invincible, like some omnipotent god."

you giggled, holding onto your side as pain flared up, "not this again. you're never gonna persuade me to be an underground hero. i am an omnipotent god."

"and that's how you wound up here, in an infirmary." he pinched the bridge of his nose, "you're gonna be the death of me."

"at least you'll go out with a bang," you grinned, reaching up for his hand.

he grabbed it, placing a kiss atop, "true, darling. very true."

a/n: woooo, thanks for the request. funny story: i actually started writing bakugo’s part and then it became like,,, 1.5k long,,, so i’m doing a stand-alone for him!!

[bakubunny]

getting saved by an underground hero but he’s pretty

imagine you’re walking home one night and there’s a villain attack nearby. somehow you wind up in a villain’s arms, their hand clamped over your mouth with your back to their chest. they’re using you as collateral to get what they want, and you’re terrified that this person might actually hurt you.

then out of the darkness, a man jumps down silently from the top of a building in all black, eyes glowing red through his goggles and long, dark hair floating as he makes his way toward you. you’ve never seen or heard of him, but the villain behind you curses.

it happens so fast you almost don’t see it; a long, thin scarf comes flying your direction and you panic, screwing your eyes shut as it misses you entirely. a fight breaks out. you wind up getting shoved to the ground in the process with a bloody scratch on your cheek. soon, the villain is tied up and on the ground with the hero’s boot on his chest. the glow in his eyes fades as he pulls off his goggles. messy hair falls down around his shoulders. he’s contacting authorities and heroes for backup to take care of the offender under his foot. you move to stand, but he catches you in his peripheral.

“stay where you are. there may be others nearby,” he says.

so you stay. in a few minutes time, he’s kneeling down next to you as you pull away.

“it’s alright. my name’s eraser head. i’m an underground hero. are you injured anywhere else?” he looks exhausted and stern with red lining the whites of his baggy eyes, but there’s a softness to his deep voice as though he’s trying not to scare you.

“n-no. i fell pretty hard, but i’m okay,” you reply.

eraser head reaches out with a hand to examine your cheek, pulling out a few small items from somewhere on his hero costume to clean up your face.

“you’re lucky i was nearby. the hero on patrol was several blocks away. you shouldn’t be out alone in this part of the city this late at night,” he says. his fingers are gentle as he takes you by the chin and cleans the blood off your face.

your neck flushes. “s-sorry, mr. eraser head. i was on my way home.”

the corner of his mouth curls up at the formalization of his hero name. “it’s just eraser head, sweetheart. relax, you’re safe now. we’ll make sure you get home.”

“thank you, sir.” you’re trying not to stare at him as he works, but it’s almost hard to look away.

he can’t be much older than you if at all, maybe a few years at most. there’s a scar under his right eye and scruff on his chin and cheeks. his face is near expressionless as the small smile fades from his lips. he looks into your eyes, making it known that you’re staring. a flush blooms across your features and you quickly avert your gaze. you don’t see it, but another smile pulls on his lips.

“all done.” he offers you a hand to stand. “wait here.”

eraser head walks over to an officer for a brief moment and exchanges a few words out of earshot. with his scarf now back on his neck, he turns around and walks to you with his hands in his pockets and the slightest hint of a grin.

“i’ll walk you home. let’s go.”

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[tootiecakes234]

Men that hold the power to just give you a look and you know you gotta calm your ass down.

He took you to a work party with him and you’d dressed all up. You were going for a trophy wife thing and you looked delectable. He’d somehow reigned himself in enough for the two of you to actually make it out of the house, and that was an accomplishment on his part.

You guys pull up to the venue and before you can get out of the car his lips are on yours and they’re all heat and passion. The damn thing leaves you breathless, but when he pulls away he looks all composed. Bastard

You guys get out of the car and finally make it inside the venue and there’s quite a few people. He does a round and introduces you to some of the people, during which he has his hands at you waist at all times. A silent way to let everyone know who you belonged to.

You guys are talking to 2 guys from his department and one of them is cracking jokes and making you laugh. You’d had a drink or two by now so you were feeling a little buzz. You’re in the middle of laughing at yet another joke that wasnt all that funny when you feel it. His gaze on you. His eyes narrowed in on your eyes and you knew…. You sobered up real quick. Yea you were pushing it.

You didn’t have any more drinks that night. Don’t think hes gonna forget about it tho. He is 100% making you regret that after you guys get home.

*is also a petty bitch and will bring it up the next day or two every time you laugh at one of his jokes🫠

Suguru Geto, Katsuki Bakugo, Levi Ackerman, Roronoa Zoro, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Kento Namami, Shota Aizawa, Satori Tendo, Eren Yeager…. Any of your faves

[lovebeatriceplz]

Baby it's cold outside 🌧️

Aizawa x reader

Summary: It's a rainy/ cold day and he's trying to convince you to stay in.

Note: I live in a country where it doesn't snow so I'm not even gonna try and write about it😭. We do have a cold front rn so i can write based on that. This is short.

Normally the sun would have been peeking out a little by now. But as your eyes flutter open it still appears to be dark. The clock on your wall, however, tells a different story. Attempting to sit up you find yourself held back by something...or rather someone. You lift up to blanket to reveal Aizawa's arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your stomach, not really planning to let go anytime soon.

His hair was somewhat disheveled. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, the only time his brain isn't overworking. You didn't really want to wake him, but you had things to do. In a soft, gentle manner you trace the scare on his cheek, he responds with a soft hum, leaning into your touch. "Love? Zawa wake up" you whisper. He grunts.

Sighing you start to untangle yourself from your husband's grasp. He opens one of his eyes, tightening his grip. "where are you going anyways? Didn't you watch the forecast..." He murmurs, falling back into a slumber.

"no... C'mon i still have to go to work". You sit up fully in the bed. He looks up at you. "can't we just stay in this morning, please?" He was hard to resist no doubt. Planting a kiss on his forehead you distract him long enough to slip out of the bed. You hear him groan "seriously?" He calls out. You were already heading down the hallway.

The cold floor causes you scurry quickly to the bathroom. The freezing air making you shiver. It was cold.

A cold shower was definitely a no no. As you wait for the water to warm up you sit on the edge of the tub, springing up immediately. The sink, the towels, the railings, the fricking door knob, was everything just freezing cold. You were beginning to reconsider your lovers pleas.

Actually getting ready wasn't any easier. Not when he was looking at you like that, studying every inch or your body, silently begging you to come back to him. "you're not making it through that door" he mumbles, turning his back to you and making a cave with the pillows. "i love you too" you tease, blowing him a kiss.

Standing in the door way you shiver, looking out you could hardly see anything because of the thick fog. You close the door, standing there and wondering if you should call a cab or risk it and walk in those conditions.

Large, scarred hands wrap around your waist, pulling you close as hot breath hits your neck, warming you up instantly. "You're a stubborn brat y'know that?" He murmurs into the back of your neck.

His fingers slither into your skirt, fiddling with the waist band of your underwear, causing you to chuckle out of nervousness "and you're a bad influence" you retort. He hums softly, intertwining his hands with one of yours "just for today, i promise".

And with that he's luring you back into the bed room, planting kisses all over and leaving markings on your neck. You decide to send a text to your boss later, they'll understand.

[crimsonkenjii-writes]

Soft fingertips travel across Aizawa Shota’s rough jawline. The small hairs on his face scratching your skin as you hold him. His eyes closed as his silently enjoys the attention. His scratchy scruff now against your palms as you fully hold his face. Your thumb softly grazing over the small scar underneath his eye. It felt coarse compared to the undamaged skin surrounding it. Your thumb slowly tracing up and down it as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer into his lap. Shota always looked so at peace when he was finally in your arms. Home alone with you, all his responsibilities gone for the moment as he basked in your gentle, attentive treatment. It was almost cat like, as ironic as it was. How you would hold his face in your hands and he would just close his tired eyes, pushing himself more into your touch and seeking the warmth your hands would provide. Turning his head to press a small kiss to the center of your palm with chapped lips. His larger hand reaching up to hold yours. The calloused pads at the base of his fingers presssd against your knuckles. Shota’s hand easily enveloping yours. His eyes slowly opening to stare into yours, a serene look that nobody else but you ever saw. His eyes seemingly full of light despite how dark colored they really are. Slowly leaning in to place a delicate kiss on his forehead, whispering to him in a volume that no one else but Shota could hear. Causing the ends of his lips to barely rise into a soft smile. “You’re too kind to me, you know that?” He’ll whisper back before leaning in once more to place a kiss on your lips.

[keiskake]

gn!reader

aizawa likes physical contact when you two sleep. like he really likes physical contact. he’s essentially a human cat. needs constant pats and back rubs. he melts at the touch of your hands ruffling his dark and messy hair. it puts him right to sleep, it’s sleep hypnosis. 

and vice versa, sleeping and being with him has turned you into a human cat as well. he loves taking care of his kitty cat. handsy man he is, always needing his hands to be on you. hands cupping your face, holding your hands, petting your head. doesn’t matter where. hands on you. no ifs no buts. and he will not sleep unless you are touching. he will start waking up if he doesn’t feel you warm touch on his skin.

this is what i think aizawa is like when sleeping with you.

[zawaswife]

aizawa coming home from a long stressful day nn all he wants is to relax between his pretty girls thighs, face covered in ur sweet juices. ur moans and whimpers are music to this man's ears. his shoulders relax nn all the tension jus seems ta flow right outta him. he's in heaven. "fuckk, babygirl this is jus what i needed.."

[sentinelpri]

Yeah, Right

The first time Aizawa does it, he doesn’t think about the ‘why’. After all, it seems logical enough. 

It’s All Might’s fifty-first birthday and Aizawa expects the fresh batch of new students to want to surprise the older man with something special for the day of. Only, when he gets to class that morning, he hears them all talking about how they’re too shy to so boldly approach their teacher and give him a birthday gift. While Aizawa imagines that All Might will get plenty of gifts and letters in his P.O. box, none of them will actually be from anyone he knows- random fans, even some stalkers- all people that he has no connection with.

Aizawa knows All Might well enough to know that the only people he wants anything from are going to be his students and fellow heroes- people he knows, people who care. Aizawa remembers that All Might doesn’t have a family to celebrate with and frowns as he sits at his desk listening to the children rattle on about the former number one hero.

When All Might walks in to take over the class for his heroics lesson, he looks Aizawa in the eye and offers a small smile. For whatever reason, said smile makes Aizawa’s heart skip a beat, so he doesn’t smile back. Instead, he leaves, rushing to the local grocery store even though he knows he’s supposed to be doing lesson planning. When he returns, he smuggles the little bouquet of roses and the box of chocolates into the lounge through his duffle bag. 

All Might’s locker is always stupidly left unlocked (because ‘none of my fellow hereos would meddle with my belongings’, according to the older man), so Aizawa puts the presents there with a note but no name.

‘Happy birthday, number one. Hope you have a good year.’

It’s simple and plain enough to not give away who it’s from. Perfect.

Aizawa doesn’t feel too nervous as he shuts the locker and retreats to sit at the round table. It’s lunch time now, so the sound of loud teenagers bustling down the hallway rings in Aizawa’s ears. He buries his head in his hands and groans, only to have a more pressing problem when the door is slammed open just seconds later.

He glances up to see All Might, standing in the doorway, the front of his pink button-up shirt soaked with blood. 

“All Might,” Aizawa stands up and grabs a washcloth to wet, then brings it over to All Might. He wipes the blood off of the older man and glances up at him with a scowl. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Oh, Aizawa,” All Might offers a weak smile and takes the washcloth from Aizawa’s hands so he can clean himself up. Aizawa stands there awkwardly, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for an answer. “I’m fine! Just a normal day for me, coughing up blood, though I’m starting to run out of shirts that aren’t blood-stained… Maybe I should start wearing more red.”

“You’re coughing blood up that often? And in this quantity… That isn’t normal,” Aizawa scoffs, as annoyed as ever by All Might’s alarming normalization of his declining health. “When’s the last time you’ve been to a doctor?”

“Back after we fought Shigaraki and the Paranormal Liberation Front.”

“No, I mean for a normal check up. When’s the last time you’ve been to a doctor for something other than a grievous, hero-work-related injury?”

“Oh, I haven’t been since…” All Might trails off, tossing the washcloth in the dirty laundry and thinking to himself. Meanwhile, Aizawa moves to dig through his own locker for an extra shirt that All Might can have- God knows the former number one hero is never prepared enough to keep a change of clothes handy. Aizawa finds the largest one he has, an oversized black sweater that he likes to sleep in sometimes. It’s just long enough that it’ll fit All Might’s weirdly oversized frame perfectly, so Aizawa takes the shirt out and tosses it at the older man. “Hm… I actually don’t know.”

“You need to go see one soon, then,” Aizawa nags and sits back down in a lounge chair as All Might hides behind the lockers to change shirts.

“Why do you care so much all of a sudden?”

“Ugh, never mind,” Aizawa grumbles and gets up to head towards the door. Just when he thought he was getting soft for the man, All Might had to go and get on his nerves again. “God forbid I try to make you take care of your health for the sake of your students.”

“Aizawa, wait-”

“No, it’s fine. I get the point. You’re never going to prioritize yourself and nothing anyone can say will ever make you. Keep the shirt,” Aizawa puts his hand on the door knob and turns it. Then, he opens the door and leaves, calling back to a flustered looking All Might with- “I’ll see you later.”

~

The second time Aizawa does it, he wonders why the hell he finds himself doing this shit again. The first time it was because it was All Might’s birthday and he wasn’t sure if All Might would get anything from anyone else. Now, it’s the middle of autumn, and he’s unsure about his motives. He tells himself that All Might has seemed down lately- yes, that’s all it is- and that he wants to cheer him up for the students’ sake and definitely not for his own. It’s odd because the last time he did this, he had an awkward and tense interaction with the man right after that turned him off for a while, but… It couldn’t hurt to try again.

So, he spends time hand-crocheting and knitting some sweaters and scarfs for the upcoming season and packing them into a little gift basket. All Might still has a nasty habit of leaving his locker unlocked, meaning that Aizawa can get into it easily. He sneaks into the lounge early, unusually early, knowing that he’s the least likely to get caught at this time since school doesn’t start until seven thirty. Right now, it’s six.

The only person that ever gets to U.A. before seven in the morning aside from Nezu is-

“Mic,” Aizawa blankly states, unsure of what to do. He’s standing in front of All Might’s open locker with the gift basket in one hand and his other hand on the edge of the locker door to hold it open. Mic has just walked into the staff lounge and caught him red-handed. “Uh… What’s up?”

In an awkward series of little motions, Aizawa slams the locker shut and tries to hide the ridiculously large basket behind his back.

“Um… What’cha got there?”

“Nothing that’s any of your business,” Aizawa answers, then reopens the locker, shoves the basket in there, and slams it back shut.

“C’mon, now, don’t pretend that I didn’t just catch you leaving a gift basket in All Might’s locker! No wonder you’ve been acting so funky lately… And to think I thought I was imagining things when I saw him in your favorite shirt,” Mic says, much to Aizawa’s embarrassment and horror. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of him doing this coming off like that to anyone else- and maybe loaning All Might one of his favorite shirts that he used to wear all the time wasn’t the best idea, either, especially considering that All Might now wears the damn thing at least once a week with the claim of ‘since it’s black, it doesn’t stain easy!’. “Wait, are you two a thing!?” 

“Absolutely not. He borrowed the shirt once and I let him keep it. As for the gifts… Well, I am guilty of that, but he doesn’t reciprocate said gifts nor does he know it’s me giving them,” Aizawa explains and guiltily walks away from All Might’s locker in favor of sitting down on the edge of the staff table. He sighs and shakes his head both at himself and at Mic. “So don’t tell anyone.”

“Hah! No one would believe me, even if I did want to go and betray you by blabbing about it,” Mic laughs and sits right next to Aizawa on the table top. Then, he looks over at the erasure hero with his big green eyes and a knowing smirk. “But are you seriously going to keep on with this until he retires from teaching?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you clearly like him, and this is your weird fucked up way of expressing it-”

“Hey!” Aizawa interrupts with a blush and a glare- or, as much of a glare as he can produce these days with only one eye. The other eye socket remains empty and covered by a black eye patch, thanks to a certain Shigaraki. “Don’t talk about me like that.”

“What? It’s true! I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Mic points out. It’s horribly, embarrassingly true. Aizawa used to hate All Might and everything he stood for, and he still tries to tell himself that he does, but… Things just aren’t the way they were back then. He watches All Might a little too closely and checks in on him all the time, even if it’s not in the most overtly caring and compassionate way. He does care about All Might, and they’ve grown to respect each other. He just never thought that it’d develop into those sorts of feelings; for the former number one hero, who’s far more popular than him, far more attractive than him, and over a decade his senior. “You’ve been doing this for how long now?”

“I don’t know,” Aizawa shrugs and crosses his leg over his prosthetic. Then, he crosses his arms as well and taps his fingers against his bicep. He can’t even meet Mic’s gaze. “A few months, maybe?”

“Exactly,” Mic yells a little too loudly and throws his hands up in the air. “You’ve been doing this for months instead of just telling the guy you have a crush on him!”

“I don’t have a crush on him,” Aizawa mumbles, hating the sound of such a juvenile term being thrown at him like this.

Crush.

Yeah, right.

“Really?” Mic presses. “Really? Look at yourself right now, Eraser!”

“We can continue this conversation never,” Aizawa gets up from the table, heads to the door, and looks back at Mic, who is sitting there with a ridiculously large grin. “And remember; don’t tell anyone about what you saw today.”

“Aye aye captain!” Mic responds with a mock-salute that somehow pisses Aizawa off even more.

As the ravenette leaves, embarrassed and confused, he can’t help but think about what Mic said.

A crush. 

On All Might.

Yeah, right.

~

The third time Aizawa does it, he hears All Might start to talk.

Aizawa has had to come to terms with the fact that these stupid feelings he’s developed for All Might are, in fact, a crush- as Mic had so eloquently put it just a few months ago. Said crush has been festering for God knows how long and seems to only get worse with every season that passes. 

So, by the time winter rolls around, he’s more on edge about the whole thing than he thought he’d be when he left the first gift basket for All Might back in June. Despite never caring about his appearance before, he finds himself tying his hair up (All Might said it looked good like that once), wearing cologne (one that All Might said was his favorite in an interview a while back), and putting a little more effort into his appearance than he would have just a few years ago.

It’s the day before winter break. All of the kids are doing cute holiday celebrations, gift exchanges, dorm parties, and more. They’ve already taken their finals, so there’s not much for the teachers to do aside from sit on their asses and enjoy the festivities. Aizawa doesn’t mind it. He even finds himself in a particularly cheery mood as he leaves another gift basket in All Might’s locker, this one full of holiday candies, a new blanket, and some fancy tea and coffee blends.

After leaving the gifts and making sure that no one is around to catch him in the act this time, Aizawa quietly closes the locker and moves to sit at the staff table before anyone can walk in.

He catches a glance of himself in the mirror and sighs. His hair is tied back all pretty, he actually bothered shaving, and though he looks as tired as ever… He looks better than he used to. The things people say about ‘glowing’ when they fall in love may actually be true. With a shake of his head, he ignores that train of thought in favor of pulling out his phone and reading the news.

Slowly, more of the faculty file in; Nezu, Mic, Vlad King, Nejire- who started working for U.A. shortly after graduating- and finally, All Might. The four sit near Aizawa at the table with Mic sitting right next to him and the others sitting across from him. They chat and talk about their plans for winter break as if Aizawa isn’t even there until Aizawa hears Nejire pipe up with-

“Hey, All Might, is that a new scarf? It’s cute. Where’d you get it?”

“It’s a funny story, but someone has been leaving these gifts in my work locker for months…” All Might explains, much to Aizawa’s embarrassment. Aizawa can’t help but notice that the older man is wearing his sweater. Again. The chunky crocheted scarf around his neck is made of black and red yarn, one of the many things that Aizawa has anonymously gifted to him since the summertime. “Everything from chocolates and flowers for my birthday to this scarf and custom-made sweaters. No idea who it is.”

“Oh, well that’s a simple problem with a simple solution!” Nezu suggests. Aizawa’s heart drops as the principal suddenly crawls into his scarf and sits on his shoulder- something he frequently does for warmth and height. His beady eyes remain trained on All Might. Meanwhile, Mic won’t stop nudging Aizawa with his foot underneath the table. “Would you like me to check the security cameras for you?”

“No, that’s not necessary, Nezu,” All Might answers with a dismissive wave. It takes everything in Aizawa not to let out an obvious sigh of relief. “After all, if they’re going about it like this, they probably don’t want me to know their identity.”

“You don’t think that it’s some sort of villain, do you?” Vlad King questions.

“Not at all. UA’s security is too strict to allow any outsiders in and all of the gifts I’ve received so far have been totally harmless. I had the same train of thought at first and even had Tsukauchi run everything I received through his forensics team to test for poisons and find any trackers or cameras that might’ve been hidden, but no one found anything. It seems like they’re totally innocuous, well-meaning gifts.”

“Do you think it’s a student?” Nezu presses, clearly somewhat concerned.

Aizawa suddenly realizes just how bad of an idea this was to start off with. Maybe he should stop and get a hold of things before he gets caught and makes a fool out of himself. 

“No, they wouldn’t have access to the lounge unless they had some sort of quirk that allowed them to phase through things. I know we have a couple of those quirk users here, but I doubt that any of them would risk getting in trouble for something so dumb when they could just leave the stuff on the desk of the classroom I teach in. So, it must be another faculty member; another teacher, a janitor, cafeteria staff…” All Might continues rambling on about the many deductions he’s made. Aizawa almost calls him out for sounding so much like Midoriya, but he decides against it. “There’s so many people who work here that I haven’t bothered trying to narrow it down.”

“And that doesn’t bother you at all!? I’d be going insane!” Mic yells out, then sends a quick and knowing glance in Aizawa’s direction. Aizawa glares back at him. “What if you have a stalker or something?”

“I doubt it’s anything that severe. Either this is some sort of cruel joke or someone has a crush on me,” All Might shrugs. “I’d be surprised at the latter considering the form I’m currently in, but the gifts clearly have a lot of thought behind them and some people have weird tastes…”

At that, Mic burst out laughing, to which Aizawa quickly turns and scolds him.

“Mic!”

Mic only laughs harder. Aizawa doesn’t think his face has ever been this red, and All Might is looking between the two of them like he’s trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. 

“What’s so funny, Yamada?” All Might asks and narrows his sky blue eyes.

“Nothing, nothing,” Mic answers, but again, only laughs even hader. He puts his head on the table and buries his face in his arms. “Sorry!”

“So you’re just going to let this continue to happen?” Vlad King interjects. 

“Basically. Either I’ll retire from teaching, they’ll come and tell me who they are and why they’re doing this, or they’ll get bored and stop. Whichever happens first. I don’t really mind either way.”

“What if it’s, like, a secret admirer?” Nejire continues. Meanwhile, Aizawa doesn’t know if he’s relieved or offended at the fact that All Might doesn’t seem to care very much about whoever it is that’s been leaving him presents in his locker. “Don’t you want to know who they are?”

“Not really. I know I don’t discuss it very often, but I do have my heart set on someone else… I just haven’t had the courage to tell them, especially since my retirement from hero work. So, it’s better that this person doesn’t reveal themselves to me; I’d hate to reject them after they’ve given me so many nice things. I want them to know I appreciate all these things they’ve gifted me, so I wear and use them as much as I can, but I also wonder if I’m giving them the wrong idea… Ah, I’ve got lesson plans to work on. I should get back to the classroom.”

With that, All Might stands up and retreats, leaving the rest of the staff to eat their lunches and chat amongst themselves- mostly about the upcoming holiday party that the hero commission is going to throw in about a week to celebrate the last year’s worth of hero work. They do it every year, but Aizawa never attends, finding that no one really cares whether or not he’s there aside from Mic. It always seems like a big publicity stunt for heroes to come and throw their money at the charities that are promoted there, for heroes to come and get interviewed by famous reporters, and for heroes to come and find more work with new teams or agencies.

Like a lot of hero society, the whole thing is about business more than it is a genuine celebration, but… if All Might is going to be there this year like he always is, Aizawa may go.

Eventually, the rest of the staff clear out, leaving Aizawa and Mic by themselves. Mic is the first to say anything.

“Eraser, aren’t you going to tell him about your feelings?”

“Has your quirk made you deaf or something? He said he’s in love with someone else! He’d just reject me, I… Should’ve never done this in the first place,” Aizawa sighs. His heart actually feels like it’s breaking from everything All Might said. “It was a stupid idea. Out of all the people I could’ve gone and caught feelings for…”

“But what if that person he talked about is you?”

“Really? Out of everyone All Might has ever met and known, you think he’s in love with me? Yeah, right,” Aizawa scoffs, looking at Mic in disbelief. “Be realistic.”

“I dunno, maybe? I mean, I could’ve sworn he was giving you ‘fuck me eyes’ while he was in here so perhaps-”

“There’s no way,” Aizawa interrupts, flustered. The idea of All Might looking at him like that… No. It’s impossible. For someone like All Might to want someone like him… “I look like a homeless person according to my students and everyone knows I haven’t been the same since everything that happened with the League of Villains and the Paranormal Liberation Front. And, just in case you forgot, I’m also more than a decade younger than him. I wouldn’t blame him for being completely repulsed by me.”

“Eraser… I’m sure if you told him, and he didn’t return the feelings, he’d be nice about it,” Mic tries to be comforting by putting a hand on Aizawa’s shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, pity kindness. That’s definitely what I want from him. As if this isn’t embarrassing enough,” Aizawa sarcastically huffs with a roll of his eyes. Mic just offers a guilty smile in return. “Honestly, Mic, you… Look, I appreciate you trying to help me here, but it’s better if I just don’t say anything, okay? He doesn’t want me back, and he never will.”

“If that’s how you really feel, I guess I can’t change your mind, but let me know if you ever want to ask him out, okay?”

“Yeah. Sure thing.”

“Okay, catch ya later!”

With that, Mic stands up and exits the room, leaving Aizawa alone yet again. The ravenette sighs and holds his head in his hands.

Asking All Might out?

Yeah, right. Because that’ll go swimmingly.

~

Aizawa doesn’t get the chance to do it a fourth time. Instead, U.A. is closed for winter break so the students can go home and spend time with their families for the holidays. While a few of them stay behind, they celebrate in their own way, leaving the teachers to attend the hero commission’s holiday party. It’s thrown at some fancy venue with a ballroom, that of which Aizawa can’t be fucked to remember the name of. Mic drives him, anyway, so it’s not like he has to know what it’s called or where it’s at. 

Once he gets there, Mic splits from him to go be the social butterfly and casually functioning alcoholic that he’s always been. He downs drink after drink, but thankfully, Nezu is nearby keeping an eye on him so Aizawa doesn’t have to (for once). Aizawa takes the opportunity to lean back against one of the less crowded walls and scan the room. 

Since the end of the conflict with the PLF, any interest in Aizawa and his involvement with the U.A. scandals has died down considerably, so he’s almost returned to the familiar comfort of no one knowing who he is again- so much so that none of the paparazzi or reporters bother trying to snap pictures or get an interview with him. Though many heroes would feel stiffed by this, Aizawa is relieved as he watches All Might, who is currently experiencing the exact opposite.

At first, All Might was happily chatting with the other heroes and dancing with a lot of them (which made Aizawa somewhat jealous, but that’s another story). Now, All Might looks uncomfortable, though he does a great job at putting on a front and answering all of the reporters’ questions as if he isn’t becoming a nervous wreck with every second that passes. Eventually, All Might directs them to Mount Lady, who is currently dancing with Kamui woods. Those vultures take the opportunity to go take as many implicating photos as they can, which gives All Might the time to make an escape and slip outside of the venue. Aizawa grabs a coffee from the bar and follows the former number one hero, who he finds sitting outside on a bench a few yards away from the front door. 

“Parties aren’t much your scene these days, are they?” Aizawa asks, standing behind the bench and slumping his shoulders.

“Heh,” All Might laughs, then shakes his head. “Not at all.”

“It seems like I can always find you out here when you feel out of place… Outside in the freezing cold, all by your lonesome, sitting on some bench.”

“Would you like to sit?” All Might offers.

“Sure,” Aizawa sits down next to All Might and sees that the blond is shivering due to the cold, even in a nice sweater and a scarf. So, Aizawa holds out his hot coffee and asks- “Want a sip?”

All Might looks at the coffee, then at Aizawa.

“You don’t mind?”

“Kids are petri dishes, and I’m around them all the time just fine,” Aizawa shrugs. “I doubt you’ll get me sick.”

All Might takes the cup.

“There’s no alcohol in this, right?”

“Right. I know you can’t really drink anymore. Plus, I’m not really stupid enough to drink at this sort of thing unlike all of our coworkers… I’d hate to slip up and let something embarrassing out to the press. I know those damn vultures would take full advantage of some poor inebriated idiot here- hell, they do it to Mic every year.”

“That’s true,” All Might laughs and leans back against the bench. It’s taken him a couple minutes, but he seems comfortable with Aizawa’s presence now. The smile on his face is beautiful underneath the pale moonlight, practically glimmering. Aizawa feels his cheeks burn red and prays that All Might doesn’t notice. Pausing, All Might drinks some of the coffee before continuing. “I remember last year when they got him to admit to that fling he had with Vlad King, those two were in hot water for a while… Thanks for the drink, by the way.”

“Sure.”

A few moments pass with the two men passing the coffee between each other, drinking, and chatting away. Aizawa can’t help but notice that All Might is acting a little differently- a little more at ease than he normally would. Aizawa isn’t sure how to place it until All Might sets the drink down on the middle of the bench and holds out one of his large hands.

“Hey, how about a dance?”

“Hm?”

“I think you’re the only one of our coworkers I haven’t danced with tonight,” All Might says offhandedly, which makes Aizawa’s face fall. Is it really just a platonic offer? Almost as if sensing his disappointment, All Might rushes to retract the invitation, panicking. “Then again, I understand if you aren’t interested! I know being in the spotlight isn’t really your thing and-”

“We can dance out here, if you want,” Aizawa interjects. The soft lull of the waltz music from inside can be heard echoing through the open windows. “I can still hear the music.”

“That actually sounds pretty nice,” All Might stands. “Mind if I lead?”

“Not at all.”

So, hand in hand, the two dance together outside of the venue, unbothered by the press or their fellow heroes who would ask questions. All Might’s hands are calloused and warm, and he smells like the cologne Aizawa bought him not that long ago.

“You know, it’s rare that you dress up like this,” All Might remarks, and it’s true. Aizawa wore a suit for the occasion at Mic’s pestering. He even shaved and tied his hair up to make himself look somewhat nice. Though, he didn’t expect All Might to notice. “I don’t think I’ve seen it since that last press conference.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” All Might smiles. “I like it.”

“Well, I like you,” Aizawa spits out before he can think better of it. He freezes, tripping over All Might’s feet. All Might wraps an arm around his back and pulls him into his chest to catch him. Embarrassment washes over Aizawa like a shower that’s way too hot. He rushes to explain the words away. “Wait, that’s not what I-”

“I like you, too,” All Might blurts out, much to his relief. On one hand, Aizawa is happy, but on the other, he doesn’t want to admit that Mic was right. “And um… Thanks for the stuff.”

At that, Aizawa blinks and pulls away, flustered.

“You knew it was me?”

“Well, no,” All Might answers, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “But Mic’s pretty hammered in there and-”

“He told you, didn’t he?” Aizawa huffs and facepalms with a shake of his head.

“Maybe?”

“He’s awfully lucky this just so happened to work out,” Aizawa sighs and reaches forward to grab one of All Might’s hands. Much to his delight, All Might laces their fingers together and stands by his side. “But I guess since the cat’s out of the bag, we can take this inside, right?”

“Yeah… I’d like that.”

[soft-zawa-png]

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ Mine O' Mine

~ Shouta Aizawa X Female!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ NSFW, smut, dark content, reader gets drunk, noncon, somno/reader is unconscious, age gap (reader is 21, aizawa is in his 30s), pet names, use of "daddy", manhandling, soft sex, cuddling, creampie, cockwarming.

A/N: My birthday was yesterday!!! + I wanted to post something kinda self indulgent w/ zawa bc I'm finally 21... really want him to take me out for my first legal drink then use me <3

The first thing you wanted to do once the clock struck 12:00...

Was to get a damn drink.

And your dark and brooding boyfriend initially opposed. You were a lightweight depending on what you drank, but over the years of drinking various drinks at special events, you built up your tolerance. Aizawa just wanted to ensure your safety on your special day.

It was your 21st birthday today, and your itinerary of plans was short, consisting of nothing more than going out with your friends during the day, and spending the night with your lover. As night crept closer, and you sat prettily in a booth in front of your ravishingly gorgeous boyfriend, the drink he had bought you as your first snuck up on you. The alcohol was sweet but present, one of the stronger drinks you've had. As you babbled and giggled incoherently, falling into a drunken stupor, all Aizawa could do was watch.

It was what he did best.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

"Easy does it, princess. Don't get careless and neglect your hold on me. You can barely function." The raspy voice of your lover failed to reach you as you stumbled over yourself, helplessly clinging onto him as Shouta guided you through the door of your shared apartment. Poor thing couldn't even support herself, burping and hiccuping as she slurred what sounded like sultry praises to her boyfriend. You were thankful for him.

"Luh'yusomuchhh baby," you giggled, sloppily dragging your arms over Aizawa's nicely clothed body. The two of you finally made it to your bedroom. You flopped onto the bed in a starfish position, still murmuring to yourself and laughing yourself silly. And as much amusement Aizawa found in your behavior, he would return with some water for you to drink to get you to simmer down.

A couple hours passed and it was late into the night. You had sipped on and finished the glass of water Shouta made you and had long ago went to sleep. You were a peaceful cocoon, curled up in a soft, fleece blanket one of your friends had gifted you. You were out cold, the slumber weighing heavy on your mind and body.

Aizawa had kept a watchful eye over you all night, ever since you took your first drink. But he couldn't erase from his mind the bedroom eyes you were giving him over dinner. The way you groped and clinged to him as he hoisted you out of the restaurant. The way you accidentally grabbed his dick in the car on the way home. And the words... the words you murmured to him.

Conscious of it or not, you were a little nymph, a temptress with open desires to seduce your loving boyfriend, who wanted nothing more than to look after you.

Surely, that was all he wanted?

The tired teacher crept back into your bedroom to find you resting soundly, an empty space in the bed right next to you.

Unfortunately for him, the raging boner he's had ever since you touched him earlier in the car hadn't went away, and he was struggling to deal with it on his own.

Would he be so selfish as to cop a few feels of your limp, plush body as you slept? Would it be all the same to you if he caressed your beautiful face as he plunged two thick fingers into your tight cunt? And would it really be so bad if he pressed your cute ass against him as he thrusted his cock in and out of you, whispering filthy admirations in your ear without your consciousness?

From the situation he was in, he saw no wrongs.

The older man slinked into your bed, stealthy as he was sneaky. Although the noise he made would go unnoticed by you. His eyes were trained on you, your sweet face relaxed and rested. Your body soft and warm. And your scent...

Your sweet, nectar-like scent drove him mad.

He found his hands immediately latching onto your tits, fondling and kneading them like dough. The soft give in your chest made him groan as his lips unforgivably kissed and sucked on your neck.

"Fuck, babygirl. You have no idea how damn irresistible you are." He moaned in between kisses as his touch became more rough and heavy handed. More possessive. Your breathing has quickened as your chest rose and fell with some speed. However your mind was so fuzzy that your eyes didn't dare open. Aizawa snickered to himself, not an ounce of gilt within him.

He fiddled with the elastic waistband of his night sweatpants, yanking them down to let his leaking cock spring free. His own breathing was rapid as he continued his assault on you, your eyes fluttering slightly as one of Shouta's large hands palmed your pussy, thick fingers making a dance out of flicking your clít.

In your sleep, you whined, a new pressure beginning to build in your core. Shouta took your nimble hand and placed it around the base of his cock, forcing you to stroke him unknowingly. While gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, he didn't waste any time to spurt pre cum into your hand.

You quirked a brow in your sleep with this warm sensation on your palm and you began to slowly stir. Aizawa removed his cock from your fingers, replacing it swiftly at the entrance of your weeping cunt from behind.

He tapped the heavy head against you, the plop! plop! sound loud and wet. If he didn't stuff you full within the next 30 seconds, he would do much more than take you in your sleep. Your eyes fluttered, the moonlight entering into your pupils. The realization of what was happening hadn't fully registered to you. Even as you moaned once Shouta finally pushed his thick cock inside your squelching pussy.

"Daddy?" You weakly questioned as you were held in an immobile vice grip, being fucked onto your boyfriend's dick at 2:00 in the morning.

Your eyes squeezed shut, as your consciousness began to attempt to regain itself. Yet the heavy liquor in your system worked very little to keep you settled. You pussy clenched around Shouta's length, the size being no stranger to you and your walls. He growled, nipping the lobe of your ear as he lovingly thrusted his dick into his precious girl.

"Shh shhh, birthday girl. 's okay, princess, daddy's just making you feel good- f-fuck. Givin' this grown pussy some love, yeah?" He airly spoke. He was so full of love for you, that the guilt that plagued him earlier had disappeared as soon as he saw you limp and helpless on the bed. Laying vulnerable and ready for the taking, for him. You were his.

"You're mine... y-you understand me?" The possessive lilt in his voice grew as his pace remained slow, but his thrusts deepened. The air in your lungs were knocked out of you, the snap of his hips against your ass slightly waking you from your coma. But speech couldn't return to you now. All you could do was nod and coo, biting your lip as your walls tightened around his cock.

"That's it, s-so good for me, baby. Take all that I give you," Aizawa heaved. His hips began to stutter as he pounded you once more, only to completely stop as he raggedly breathed in your ear. He emptied his balls into you, creaming your pussy while holding you against him.

The two of you laid still, the only sounds being your heavy breathing. Aizawa kept his dick inside you as you warmed him, snuggling back into him closer. The hold his arms had on your soft body neglected to release. You would stay like this until morning.

Smiling into your neck, your older boyfriend fell asleep while still inside you. As he went, he could've sworn he heard a soft chuckle from you, as your own sleep returned to you.

"Mine," Shouta whispered to you, planting a soft kiss on your neck as you both rested together.

©softzawapng 2022. do not plagiarize, repost or alter my work.

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

can I ask for aizawa with female reader and I don’t really care what you’re writing aber I want some married stuff or maybe even pregnant stuff. I didn’t see any rules, so I hope that’s okay

Of coirse this is okay! I think its an absolitely wonderful prompt and cant wait to write it i love pregnancy fluff anpwjejdijdhfr

Masterlist<3

Aizawa x Pregnant!Reader

Aizawa was and remains to be an amazing partner. Despite his less expressive personality, he always looks after you, and he's about as attentive as they come and won't ever let you worry about something for longer than you have to.

He's a kind, patient man, with a gentle side that noone else gets to see. He wakes you up with coffee and a kiss and he makes you dinner, and pampers you like no other.

But one of his best qualities by far is that he's a good listener, and he remembers everything about you. It's easy for him to know somehow just by looking at you how much you've slept or if you've eaten yet, and how he does it is beyond you. But you need it.

Before you'd met him you were a mess, physically and emotionally. And when you had started to warm up to eachother, you'd started helping eachother out as well. He would remind you to sleep the night before a job, or buy lunch with you to remind you to eat, and in return you would get him coffee in the morning and help him with his paperwork and grading papers. From there, your relationship flourished, to the astonishment of literally every one of his friends.

Which brings you to where you are now, trembling on the bathroom floor with tears in your eyes as you hold a positive pregnancy test in your hands.

It's not uncommon for you to miss a period or to have it very delayed, as they've always been very irregular, but you've never missed to in a row before. Now you know why.

Your shoulders shake with the effort of stifling your anxious cries and the loose blouse you had slipped on earlier that morning is slowly sliding off your shoulder. Your hair is a tangled mess and your mascara runs down your cheeks, the whites of your eyes red and your eyelids puffy.

It's not exactly like this is the worst news in the world, but you break into a cold sweat nonetheless, terrified of how he might react. His jobs as both pro-hero and teacher take up such a substantial amount of his time and you know firsthand how stressful it is, and a baby on top of that? You're not so sure he could handle it...

You're not so sure you could handle it.

Thankfully, you have some privacy at the moment since you had the day off and Shouta didn't, so he's most likely with his class at the moment. Perfect. You don't need him seeing you like this right now.

Soft sniffles and gasps of breath echo through your bathroom as you let the panic and anxiety consume you, the test held loosely between your fingers as you sit on the floor with your head in your knees.

It takes a while for you to finally calm down, and when you do you still look very obviously like you've been crying, causing a soft sigh to escape past your lips when you finally look in the mirror to clean yourself up. You're tired, you look tired, and you're about to walk out of the bathroom feeling like a slab of cement in the same blouse which is now barely at your elbows, your cream bra and the matching underwear.

That is, until you hear the front door open. Cold panic surges through your blood and you stumble backwards in shock and confusion. Is it really that late? No- Shouta is early from work.

He calls your name only to be met with silence, furrowing his eyebrows and realising that you must be in the bathroom. But why didn't you reply to him when he called out to you?

You gulp and fix your shirt frantically, covering the bump that's barely there and thanking every god you can think of that you can pass it off as bloating, slowly walking out of the bathroom and smiling at him quietly.

Meanwhile, the positive test lays on the bathroom counter, left forgotten in your panic.

You greet your boyfriend in the bedroom and give him a soft kiss, learning that there was half-day at UA today, and he got to come back early. You really wanted to be happy about it too. But you were just too overwhelmed and there was too much weighing on your mind for you to act like there was nothing happening, and he picked up on it fast.

He noticed your swollen eyes and bloated figure as you walked out of the bathroom and none of it gives him any reason to think of you as less beautiful, but you look tired and drained, and he's immediately worried about you. As much as he knows not to pry, he can't help but be curious as to whether it was him that caused this. It was.

He guides you to the bed to rest and strokes your hair out of your face, kissing you again before going to the bathroom.

Wide eyes stare at the test on the counter a few minutes later, and you still haven't realised that you had forgotten to hide the test yet, pondering over what you're going to do about this and when you're going to tell him.

You don't really need to worry about that anymore though, when a visibly shocked and apprehensive Shouta comes out of the bathroom holding the test in his hand. His eyes are wide and his lips are parted in shock at the realisation, and you feel dread pool in your stomach as you see what's in his hand. You're almost expecting him to be disappointed or worried until suddenly you're wrapped up in his arms.

His embrace is so warm and comfortable an accepting, and it's everything you didn't realise you needed until you had it, crying almost immediately into his chest and clutching onto his signature black shirt as he rubs your back and chuckles quietly.

"You-... you're pregnant?... Why didn't you tell me? You were planning on-... on hiding it from me?"

Although he understands how afraid you probably were he still can't stop himself from feeling a little upset that you didn't want to tell him straight away, mostly at himself for making you think this way. Before his self doubt can eat away at him any more you speak up, nuzzling your cheek into his shirt with your eyes closed, your expression relaxed and at ease now.

"Shouta, I was scared that-... I don't know, it's stupid- I thought you were too busy for a baby... It was just so fast and... It's been two months since my last period, Shouta."

The two of you talk it out for a while, Aizawa's grin a rare, pure sight as he really comprehends the fact that you're going to have his baby, and his hand is already rubbing your barely swollen belly.

It's not out of character for him to cuddle with you the way he is now, laying down and spooning you as he massages your stomach and kisses up your neck and shoulder while reassuring you that he'll make time for a baby, and he's going to play an active role in helping you with the housework and raising the baby with you.

You know he's not lying to you as you feel him shed tears behind you silently, and a soft smile returns to your lips before you turn around to pepper his face in kisses.

"You better. You're gonna be a dad..."

[yandere-kokeshi]

Hey! Love your works! 🙇‍♀️

I was hoping to request a mha where darling is somehow able to start an escape. But once she's on the edge of being able to get to the outside world she panics and runs back to their yandere very upset.

Hope that makes sense 😅 and no pressure if this one doesn't interest you. Much love and hope you are doing well 🖤

— Wanna be a brat? I'll treat you like one

Warnings: yandere behavior, slight violence, reader being bratty, drugging (reader drugs Aizawa), and yelling.

Oh boy!! Please excuse me if this is to cliche! I was watching The Invisible Man while writing this; so I may have gotten ideas from it. Hope you enjoy regardless!

(P.S, sorry it took so long for me to answer this. I'm so sorry :((!!)

Everything wasn’t enough.

When you ran to the door, it was double locked. Too many bolts to recognize, so many codes and digits that made your brain swirl in circles.

Trying to pry a window open resulting in you hurting yourself — as well as getting your favorite things taken away as ‘punishments’.

Really, it was fucking hell.

That door slightly cracked open? You took your chance to run, scramble against the floor as you heard him yell your name, suddenly being pulled back by thick rope, right back into the arms of your captor.

The same glare, scowl, and tightening hold on you always irritated you — “Why run? I have everything for you, what more do you want?”

You wanted to go home! Not stay here by force, and end up as a good ol’ housewife that you may or may not shape into a sweet doll. It was humiliating to sit there and watch you leave.

Whenever you acted out, he always shook it off as fear and anger; “I understand your upset.”

HA! Yeah, right. You took me by force, dickhead. You have no idea what it’s like.

But, when you had those bad ‘tantrums’ — where you screamed, sobbed and begged to go home. Where your throat dried up and stung, your body shook so bad you couldn’t stand or you were so tired you refused to eat?

He would just push you into a small, yet cold room. Making sure you cooled off, coming back a few minutes later, looking at you with that damn eyebrow raised: “You done? Cause I am.”

You weren’t sure why he always allowed you to express your anger — even though he left the room the minute you started screaming at him.

You told yourself, maybe it was his guilt. Or possibly him losing his patience.

You weren’t sure. But you wanted to leave.

Though, one night, when the two of you were asleep, or at least he was. You were lying there, staring at the darkened ceiling, admiring and fantasizing what it would be like to stare at the moon again. Feel the grass grazed against your back, cold wind blowing all over you.

You couldn’t sleep but that was common. I mean, how could you sleep laying next to the same captor who took you? Nobody would.

Then a thought came. Why not drug him? I mean, since you always threw ‘tantrums’, you always had benadryl on hand due to the insane headaches you whined about; plus, you would just scream at him more till you were knocked out.

“Why can’t I just take care of you?” Shota asked, giving you the glass of water with two medicines that were deemed to work. You rolled your eyes, throwing down the medicine before doing the same with the water.

You heard him sigh, like always at your attitude. You turned your back, feeling him shift his weight beside you before pulling up his phone — the ‘ding!’ coming on and off while you heard him write some type of email.

And… just like that. You made a decision. Right there and then.

“A drink?” You watched him raise an eyebrow at the coffee, a random act of kindness coming from you was rare. You nodded, acting all innocently. “Yeah, jus’ decided to share it with you cause I made some.” You mumbled off, although you saw him smile in the corner of your eye.

Bingo. You watched him take a sip — hum at the taste before going back to grading papers. Taking more sips before watching the entire cup be empty. It made you laugh.

Of course, you had to make sure he wasn’t suspicious of you. You drank your entire cup, possibly got another one before starting yet another scene; yelling at him, watching him sigh before slumping off into the bedroom next door.

Then you know it, he comes in a bit early — “Time to go to bed.”

You looked at the clock, it was only 7:37 am. You faked a groan, before trotting behind him, crawling into bed and watched him sleep away with drool drizzling down his stubbled chin.

Which is where you are now. Cuddled right by his side, watching him snooze away — too hard per say.

You wanna feel bad, yet you never will. Never for this monster — fuck no.

Giving Aizawa one last glance, you slowly but steadily go out of the bed, carefully replacing his tighter hold onto a thick pillow.

Taking small, light steps towards the main room, you tried your best to not step on certain squeaky planks, making sure to keep quiet.

Getting in front of the front door, you crouched and pulled out a bobby pin; sliding it into the lock before turning and twisting it.

Your blood was pumping — hair on your body stood as your thoughts sprawled all over.

Suddenly, you heard a meow behind you; a loud one that made your heart drop.

Turning around, you saw Mickey, a black cat with different colored eyes blinking at you, yawning at such a late time. Aizawa had gotten it for you to keep company, but you thought it was the damned evil.

Somehow, the cat always knew when you were in trouble. Trotting to Aizawa, almost communicating with him and blowing your cover when you were up to no good.

Not now… you thought.

Mickie had stood there, blinking before moving towards you, rolling and pouring loud as a train.

You continued trying to pry the lock, but to no avail. Nothing worked. It was useless.

Finally, going at it while pushing Mickie away. You heard the third lock unlock.

Hope. It gave you hope. You could finally leave

You looked around, completely aware that any moment given, you could be found. But you kept trying, so hard.

Suddenly, Mickie screamed at you; her voice howled throughout the entire, quiet room.

You put your finger on your mouth, wanting her to shoosh.

Meow!

‘Shush!’ You whispered quietly. Grabbing her before petting her, pushing her off to the side.

Meow!!

“What do you think you’re doing?”

A booming voice came from behind you.

You froze, staying where you were as you slightly trembled, thinking what to do next. Before you could manage to do anything, his hand appeared on your shoulder, forcing you up and facing him.

Locking eyes with dark gray ones, you felt your entire body shake — watching his eyebrows narrowing, jawline sharp and strained while his eyes spoke for itself.

You’re in big trouble, missy.

“I asked you a question.” His sultry voice came out, waiting for an answer.

“Get off me,” you sneered, trying to act tough.

Hearing Aizawa scoff, he yanked your arm and dragged you back into the bedroom. Practically throwing you into the maddress stomach first before hearing metal clanking.

Cold — something bare and heavy attached itself towards your ankles.

“These are only temporary,” Aizawa stated. “Until you can behave correctly, these stay on.” He added, before standing up again, his knees popping.

You looked down, seeing chains connected to your feet; they were heavy, an ugly cold that drugged you of shivers into your core.

He looked down at you, anger rising in his face before he demanded a statement from you.

“Say your sorry — and I might reconsider easing the punishments.” He said, while crossing his arms against his chest. His disappointed posture was deafening through your thoughts.

You stared hard at him, teeth clenching in fear and anger, “Fuck you.”

You saw that those words struck a chord in him. Saw his eye twitch in annoyance. Finally, what felt like an eternity he spoke back up.

“It’s my fault for trusting you too much.” He stated, “Drinking that — stupid fucking coffee.”

Did he know?

He looked at you, directly staring into your soul. Almost waiting for you to answer his question.

“I hate you,” You whispered.

Aizawa nodded frustratingly.

“Fine. Wanna act like a brat? I’ll treat you like one.”

He grumbled, reaching over and grabbed your legs, pulling the chain to connect to the bedpost. Before grabbing a coat from the hanger by his bedside.

He stomped away and slammed the door shut. You heard his footsteps leave the apartment, slamming the front door.

A lump forms in your throat.

Something — something was gonna happen and it was not gonna be nice.

Too deep into your thoughts, you failed to notice Mickey climbing onto the bed. You flinched at the sudden loud meow coming from beside you.

Turning to your left, you saw Mickie laying down, purring beside you as she continued grooming herself.

Now… you’re only left with your thoughts. An occasional meow from the damn cat.

What did you get yourself into?

—

My masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

Content belongs to ©️ yandere-kokeshi only.

[frickingnerd]

Pro Hero Masterlist

Toshinori Yagi / All Might

i'd stop the world for you - oneshot

all might breaking up with you - headcanons

Enji Todoroki / Endeavour

endeavor with a sidekick who isn't intimidated by him - headcanons

Keigo Takami / Hawks

fake dating hawks - headcanons

hawks with a s/o who has a healing quirk - headcanons

friends with benefits hawks & dabi - headcanons

Rumi Usagiyama / Mirko

mirko with a s/o who has a fox quirk - headcanons

being in a poly relationship with mirko and lady nagant - headcanons

Tsunagu Hakamada / Best Jeanist

best jeanist comforting his self concious s/o - headcanons

Shinya Kamihara / Edgeshot

secret kisses with edgeshot - headcanons

Mirai Sasaki / Sir Nighteye

workplace crushes - oneshot

Taishiro Toyomitsu / Fatgum

fatgum being jealous - headcanons

Ryuko Tatsuma / Ryukyu

ryukyu with a sidekick who overworks themselves - headcanons

Shota Aizawa / Eraserhead

fake dating shota aizawa - headcanons

Hizashi Yamada / Present Mic

present mic dating a metalhead - headcanons

spending time with present mic - headcanons

Nemuri Kayama / Midnight

bruised hearts heal slowly - oneshot

midnight crushing on her sidekick - headcanons

Sekijiro Kan / Vlad King

jealous vlad king - headcanons

Yu Takeyama / Mount Lady

the taste of the enemy - drabble

[tickly-giggles]

Could u do prompts 22 and/or 24 with aizawa and present mic? If u do x reader could you do with the reader otherwise I would enjoy reading it with eachother! ❤️

Yes yes yes, so cute!! I ship EraserMic so hard so yes! Also, for future reference, I don't do x reader fics. Sorry bout that

BUT onto the fic~!

Warning: Tickle fic ahead! Also very light bondage

Prompt: "When I find you, you're dead!" / "Please be gentle~!"

Characters: Mic, Aizawa, very short amount of Shinso

Shipping: EraserMic

Lee: Mic

Ler: Aizawa

Word Count: 1,343

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“When I find you, you’re dead!”

The words rang throughout the house like an explosion. Mic giggled childishly, diving into the closet in his and his husband’s bedroom. It may have been an obvious hiding spot, but Mic would be lying if he said he didn’t want Aizawa to find him. The circumstances that led up to him hiding in a closet played back in his head, and he couldn’t help but giggle again at the memory.

“Come on, it’ll be fun~,” Mic grinned at Shinso, who was currently doing his best to ignore his honorary father by distracting himself with a video game.

“No offense, but that doesn’t sound fun, it just sounds like we’d annoy him,” 

the purple haired boy paused his game and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly,

“I’d personally rather not get in the middle of it.”

“Aww, but it’s not permanent! It’ll wash off, c’mon!”

Shinso couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at his lips from Mic’s childlike excitement over something so silly, though he rolled his eyes and shook his head in response,

“It’s still a no. Sorry, Yamada-sensei.”

Mic smiled softly at him and playfully ruffled Shinso’s hair,

“Fine, I’ll do it myself. And you don’t need to be so formal with me, Hitoshi.”

Shinso blushed and nodded, smiling wider and starting his game back up as Mic exited his bedroom.

From there, the prank was set in motion. Mic had snuck back into his and Aizawa’s bedroom with a black marker, knelt down beside him while he was curled up under the covers, and hesitated. His husband looked so peaceful. Strands of his disheveled, black hair spilled over his content face in a way that perfectly framed his gorgeous features. His lips were slightly parted, rhythmic breaths escaped his nose with the occasional, gentle snore, and his eyelashes rested against his cheeks.

Mic smiled. How did he get so lucky? His eyes twinkled with pure joy and love for his partner. Joy was quickly replaced with mischief, and a smirk spread across his face as he popped the cap off of the marker.

“Hizashi!” 

Aizawa’s sudden, angry voice snapped Mic out of his reminiscing, and he grinned nervously as he listened to his footsteps gradually get closer.

“I’m going to find you, hiding from me is irrational,”

Aizawa huffed, looking under the bed, then mentally smacking himself for thinking Mic could fit under it. He stood and glared around the room, his eyes eventually falling on the closet. He grumbled and made to open the door, but stopped. He steadied his breathing as he thought for a moment, then grinned slightly,

“I suppose he’s not here. Oh well.”

Finally, he started tapping his feet against the floor, gradually slowing his movements to mimic the sound of him leaving the room.

Mic smirked and rolled his eyes. Like he would fall for the oldest trick in the book. Aizawa was smart, there was no way he would leave without checking the most obvious hiding spot. About a minute passed and there was no sound coming from the other side of the closet door. Mic felt his confidence sinking. Maybe Aizawa did leave? It couldn’t hurt to check, right? 

He swallowed nervously, his hand shaking as he reached for the door handle. Slowly, the door slid open, and he peeked into the room. A triumphant grin replaced his previously anxious expression. The room was empty.

Mic chuckled airily, stepping further into the room,

“I don’t know why I was so nervous. He had no idea I was– WAAHH-!!”

The boisterous pro hero shrieked as he was tackled to the bed. He craned his neck to see Aizawa sitting on his lower back, eyes glowing red, hair defying gravity, and his scarf held tightly in his hands. Most importantly, his face was decorated with random drawings and words in black marker. He smirked and let his hair fall majestically,

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear me hooking myself to the ceiling.”

Mic blushed slightly in embarrassment, and smiled shyly,

“You know my hearing isn’t what it used to be.”

Suddenly, he couldn’t stop the amused giggles that bubbled from his throat at Aizawa’s face. The quirk erasing pro smirked back at his husband and grabbed his wrists, tying them to his ankles with his scarf in a swift motion,

“I’ll give you something to laugh about.”

“W-Wait wha–” 

Mic’s face erupted in even more red, and he experimentally tugged at his bindings, to no avail,

“Shota, what are you doing? Let me go!”

“I don’t think so. In fact,”

Aizawa leaned down and pressed his lips against Mic’s ear, making him shiver,

“I think you wanted me to catch you~.”

Mic swallowed nervously, panic and excitement filling his mind. He didn’t bother replying as Aizawa got to work, carefully taking off his husband’s socks. Aizawa grinned at the way Mic curled his toes when the cool air in the room hit his feet. 

“Something wrong, Hizashi~? You seem nervous.”

Mic bit his lip at Aizawa’s teasing tone, wishing he could bite back with a snarky remark of his own, but he knew that would only get him into more trouble. Aizawa could be quite merciless when he wanted to be. So, he simply replied,

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Is it the fact that I’m going to tickle you, no matter what you do?”

The teasing tone in Aizawa’s voice only worsened how vulnerable Mic felt. He shook his head, trying to fight off the anticipatory tingles that danced across his bare soles. A sigh of resignation escaped his lips, a small, nervous smile creeping onto his face as he addressed his husband once more,

“Just… Please be gentle.”

Aizawa smirked, remaining silent as he started slowly dragging his nails up and down Mic’s soles. The touch was so sudden that he squealed in surprise, then soft giggles escaped his quivering lips.

“Here’s how things are going to go, Hizashi,”

the quirk erasing pro hero started, pulling Mic’s toes back and lightly scratching at a spot just below his big toe,

“You’re going to apologize for playing such a juvenile prank on me. But before that, you’re going to laugh to your heart’s content,”

Aizawa grinned at Mic’s whimpering at his teasing words and light strokes on his ticklish soles. He began running his index finger underneath every single toe while his other hand held them back, causing his ticklish victim to whine and squeak with each new touch,

“That’s why you pulled such a stunt, isn’t it? Because you wanted me to punish you?”

“S-Shuhuhut up, Shohohota!”

“Oh? Is that any way to speak to someone who has you in such a position?”

“Wait, noho I’m sorry! I’m sohohorry, Shota, please, nohohot THAHAHAHAT!! SHOTAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHONONONO PLEHEHEHEASE~!”

Mic thrashed frantically as his husband began mercilessly raking his nails up and down his helpless soles. Aizawa knew exactly what to do to drive him up the wall, and this was one of them. He also knew what Mic could and couldn’t take and, while he couldn’t take being tickle tortured like this, he knew he loved it regardless. 

The two had their session well into the afternoon, much later than either of them had expected to go. Mic’s soles were on fire with ticklish electricity coursing through each and every nerve by the time Aizawa was finished with him. The stoic pro hero never skipped aftercare, and he made sure Mic didn’t protest as he rubbed a cool lotion on his sensitive soles. Mic had, indeed, ended up apologizing far before the tickle session was finished, but Aizawa only stopped once he yelled out their safe word. As the two cuddled in bed by nightfall, Mic looked up at his calm husband. They were both freshly cleaned from a warm shower, and Aizawa’s face was finally rid of the marker doodles. With a slight grin, Mic closed his eyes and cuddled into his husband’s warm chest, unable to stop thinking about what his next prank would be.

[niishii]

Our Little Secret (MHA Drabbles)

warnings; none, just fluff.

Divider: @firefly-graphics header: images from pinterest

prompt; you're a teacher at ua who is also in a secret relationship with aizawa, hizashi, and toshi

✦ Aizawa Shota; Today was one of those days in which the quiet man with sad eyes and binding cloths covering half of his face sat on the couch alone—eyes glued to the news broadcasting channel—while you stood on the opposite side of the room nursing a cup of bitter-tasting black coffee. When the bitterness got too much for you, you tossed the paper cup in the trash and walked over to sit on the couch. He sat with his arms sprawled across the back of the couch as you sank into the cushions and resisted the magnetic force pulling you towards him. That magnetic force eventually manifested itself into a binding cloth, gentle wrapping around your shoulders and tugging towards the empty space against him. After a second or two of resisting, you gave in and settled against him, your head resting against his chest and your legs tucked underneath you as you snuggled against his side. Although risky, you both were comfortable as you both watched a couple of pro heroes being interviewed after saving a family from a gruesome fire. "How's your day going?" You managed to ask as his arm now rested along your shoulders, pulling you closer. "It's going better now, And you?" he mumbled, resting his head on yours now. You couldn't help but smile, your body relaxing as you two enjoyed each other's company for only a few minutes longer. "Same here. Much better," you replied. The two of you remained like that until the bell rang, signaling that lunch was over. Unfortunately, you both were reluctant to leave each other's grasp.

-

✦ Hizashi Yamada; Sneaking around with him was nothing less than a thrill and a difficult task. At this rate you wouldn't surprised if the other UA instructors knew of your relationship given the many close calls you both had getting caught. Almost everyday when the students were dismissed for lunch, you found yourself migrating to his classroom. He'd be sitting at his desk, pretending to not be eagerly awaiting your arrival. When you saw you, he could never keep his voice down nor hide his excitement. As if he hadn't seen you in years, he'd spring from his desk and rush to you, his arms engulfing you into a hug before you could remind him for the umpteenth time that your relationship was to remain a secret. However, this warning does little to stop him from quickly pecking your cheek just before anyone in the hallway can catch you both in close proximity. During days when you can't find him in his classroom when the bell rings, he'll have one of his students deliver a note to you saying to meet him a secure location on campus during lunchtime. It felt like highschool all over again with the two of you sneaking around on school grounds to talk about your day and the progress you both were making with your students. Everytime you both parted, he'd quickly pull you close and kiss your forehead before whispering, "I'll see you later, babe." When the bell rings signaling lunch is over, you head back to your classroom, unable to wipe the chipper smile from your face.

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✦ Toshinori Yagi; Resisting the urge to hold hands with Toshi as you both head for the teacher's lounge is more than you both can bear. Sometimes, if the coast is clear and no one else is around, he'll take you by the hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Unfortunately, you both don't want to deal with questions from your coworkers, students, or the media so you both quickly release each other's hands if someone's walking down the hall. You both find solace in the teacher's lounge, where you sit side by side and eat lunch together all while talking about your day. Occasionally he reach for your hand and squeeze it under the table in case someone comes walking in. Lunch goes by fast when you're with him. There never seems to be enough time to recap each other's day, because you both are two busy stealing glances towards the door everytime someone passes. When the bell rings, signaling your departure, he'll take by the hand and press a quick kiss to the back of it. "Enjoy the rest of your day, beautiful," He'd say just before the both of you go your separate ways for the time being.