#eraserhead x reader

[myrleius]

unscheduled — aizawa s.

aizawa s. x detective fem!reader│wc: 4k

synopsis: It's late. You're working. And Shota brings fast food.

cw/tags: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, suggestive themes

The office is quiet, save for the low hum of your laptop, the occasional creak of old plumbing, and the steady scratch of your pen across paper.

The overhead lights are off, replaced by the soft glow of your desk lamp and the blue light of open tabs—city surveillance footage, license plate databases, a paused video from a bodega robbery.

You’d been reorganizing your notes for the last hour, half out of necessity, half to keep your mind from spiraling after thirty-two hours with little sleep.

You’re mid-sentence, scribbling something about time discrepancy, when you felt it. A warmth at your back, a slow exhale ghosting over your neck.

Arms eased around your waist. Familiar. Strong. And oh-so gentle.

You stiffened for a breath, instinct prickling—but then you melted.

“Detective,” Shota murmured, voice low against your ear. “A word?”

You sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut as the pen slipped from your fingers. “Mmm… you’re going to say two,” you murmured back, your lips quirking into a smile. “Probably ‘go’ and ‘home.’”

“Funny,” he said, pressing a kiss to your nape. “I was going to say ‘come’ and ‘here.’”

A quiet laugh bubbled from your throat. You slowly turned in his arms and there he was—tired eyes, dark circles, hair tied back loosely. Stupidly handsome, as always.

You leaned up to kiss him, soft and quick, before wrapping your arms around his waist. Tucking your face in his shoulder, you breathed him in. He smelled like clean soap and night air.

It had been two months since you last saw him.

Your gaze caught on a plastic bag resting on one of the tables behind him. That hadn’t been there before, and the red logo was unmistakable.

“You brought dinner?” you asked, knowing full well it’s past 2 A.M.

He shrugged, the barest of smiles tugging at his mouth. “I figured you hadn’t eaten. Or slept. Am I wrong?”

You pinched his cheek, shifting slightly to at least pretend to hide the chaos on your desk. “You haven’t either,” you muttered, gaze flicking to the shadows under his eyes.

He chuckled, then nodded toward the couch in the corner. “Come on. Before it gets cold.”

The couch creaked beneath your combined weight as the two of you settled in. Shota set the takeout bag on the coffee table, unwrapping its contents. He handed you your portion without a word.

You accepted it with a small smile, the wrinkle of wax paper loud in the quiet room. “So,” you started, peeling back the wrapper of your burger, “what’s the occasion?”

You took a bite before he could answer, humming in content. It was only then that you realized how hungry you were.

“Your cholesterol wasn’t high enough,” he replied dryly, popping a nugget into his mouth.

You laughed, stealing one for yourself. “How romantic.”

“I try.” He smirked, nudging the nugget container closer to your side.

“But seriously, didn’t you have patrol tonight?” you said around a mouthful. “And it’s a school day tomorrow too.”

“I switched shifts,” he said. “And I’m not staying long. Just for a few hours.”

Your heart warmed at that. Of course he’d trade rest for this. For you.

You ate in silence for a few minutes, but you didn’t mind. It felt nice to share a meal like this again, a sliver of normalcy in your sleepless world. You didn’t realize how much you’d miss this. How grounding it was to just be next to him.

You glanced at him.

As you chewed, a few strands of your hair slipped loose, falling over your eyes. You tried blowing them away with a breath, though unsuccessfully.

Then, without a word, Shota leaned forward. Fingers brushed your hair back behind your ear, the backs of them lingering against your cheek for a beat too long. You felt the warmth trail after them like a tide pulling back, slow and reluctant.

“What?” he said, but his mouth curved into that lazy, knowing smile.

“Nothing,” you murmured, and turned away.

Your eyes dropped to his mouth and found a smudge of ketchup near the corner, barely noticeable.

Without thinking, you reached over, wiped it away with your thumb, and licked it clean like it was second nature.

And it was. You’d done it before, countless times.

But the way he looked at you, you’d think it was the first time.

“That was kinda hot,” he murmured, voice amused but soft.

You huffed a laugh, gently nudging his shoulder. “That’s all it takes to get you going? You’re more sleep-deprived than I thought.”

His chuckle vibrated against your palm, but that look—that wasn’t him getting turned on. Not even close.

Then, without warning, he said, “I missed you.”

You paused, the words landing somewhere deep.

Shota never said things like that first. 

You usually had to tease it out of him, pull it loose behind a wall of dumb jokes and half-hearted grumbling. And even then, he’d deflect, tossing some excuse like, “The cats keep looking for you,” or “The bed’s too cold.”

Yet, here he was, handing it over without a fight.

You put your food down slowly, more carefully than needed, as if sudden movement might startle the moment away. After a pause, you wiped your fingers with a napkin and shifted closer to him.

Then, you leaned in, resting your head against his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt was warm, soft from too many washes.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you exhaled, long and quiet, letting go of something you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I missed you too,” you murmured, cheeks warm. “Even when you’re here right now.”

There was a brief silence. Then came the low rumble of his voice, deadpan and almost fond.

“You always get like this when I say nice things.”

But he didn’t pull away. If anything, his shoulder stayed steady beneath your cheek. He tilted his head, just enough to rest his cheek against yours. The bristle of his stubble scraped your skin, and something fluttered low in your stomach.

You snorted. “Wow. Groundbreaking observation. What’s next? ‘Water’s wet’? ‘Sky’s blue’?” 

You leaned back just enough to meet his eyes, already rolling yours. “Yes, Shota, when you’re nice, I like it. I know. Shocking.”

His lips twitched, trying to hold back a grin. “Damn. With this level of skill, I think I deserve a promotion.” 

His hand slid up your shoulder and gently pushed, guiding you back into the cushions as he shifted to hover above you. His weight didn’t press—but the suggestion of it was there.

“What’s above a detective again…?”

You burst out laughing, half at awful innuendo, half at the ridiculous way his eyebrows wiggled. “Oh my god. That was so bad.”

He didn’t budged, still caging you in, but his smirk softened. “Worked on you, though, didn’t it?”

“Barely.” You shoved at his chest—half-hearted and not really trying. His presence was solid, familiar. And oddly comforting. “And the answer is nothing, because you’d be a terrible boss.”

“Oh, really?” he murmured, dipping his headcloser. “You weren’t complaining when I bossed you around in bed last time.”

You squinted. “Perv.”

But you didn’t move. And neither did he. Until his mouth found yours.

The kiss started slow, gentle. His lips moved with unhurried certainty, like he had nowhere else to be, like this was the only thing on his list tonight. You curled your fingers into the front of his shirt, already halfway to dragging him closer when—

Your stomach let out a loud, traitorous growl. It sounded halfway between a snarl and a dying cat.

Shota froze, lips still hovering close. “... Wow.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, pressing a hand to your face. “I’m hungry, okay?”

“Clearly.”

He stayed where he was for another second, intentionally putting his weight on you just to be difficult. And your stomach made another dramatic complaint.

He chuckled, finally easing off you and helping you sit up. “Alright, alright.”

He reached for the abandoned takeout, pressing it back into your hands like it was a peace offering.

“Here,” he said. “Eat. Before you start chewing on me.”

As you both settled back into the food, the conversation drifted easily into life updates. You told him bits about the case, nothing sensitive, just the parts that frustrated you most. He listened the way he always did, never offering solutions unless you asked for them. Just letting you talk, until you didn’t need to anymore.

You rolled your eyes but took the burger anyway, biting into it with a vengeance.

Then, as if on instinct, you kicked him lightly in the shin.

He didn’t even flinch.

In return, he gave you updates from U.A.—small things, subtle milestones, the kind of stories that made you realize just how far you’d slipped from the normal rhythm of life. And how much you’d missed it.

“Oh, right,” you said as the last of the wrappers were balled up and tossed into the bin.

You crossed the room to your desk, rummaging through one of the drawers until your fingers closed around a white envelope. It was pristine, elegant, embossed with delicate swirls that shimmered faintly in the light.

“Kaede and Ren got engaged,” you said, offering the envelope as you returned to the couch.

The words came out too carefully, like you were reciting a report rather than sharing news.

Shota raised an eyebrow, fingers brushing over the embossed edge. “Really?”

“Yeah. Sent us an invite. It’s next spring,” you said, watching him too closely as he opened it. “She says she’s thinking of quitting the field too. Maybe start a consultancy firm instead.”

He nodded slowly, skimming the invitation before sliding it back into the envelope and leaving it on the coffee table.

You bit your lip. Why was this so hard? You weren’t asking for a promise. Not even a plan. Just a thought. A possibility.

But the fear was there, coiled tight in your stomach.

What if he hadn’t considered it at all? 

What if you were the only one letting your mind wander there?

You didn’t talk about these things. Not unless they were buried under sarcasm or deflection. And even then, only when you were brave enough to pretend you weren’t serious.

But tonight, with that envelope glowing white against the dark wood, and with his warmth pressed beside you after too many nights apart, the words just hung on the tip of your tongue, desperately wanting to be said.

You glanced at him sideways, heart hammering. “Does that… ever cross your mind? Stuff like that?”

He didn’t answer right away. 

But he didn’t look away either.

“Sometimes,” he said at last. “Lately, more often.”

You nodded, your fingers toying with a napkin, twisting it slowly. 

“I never used to think about it,” you said. “I was always focused on work. And I thought… what we have, it’s enough.”

And then, with a rush of panic, you waved your hands in front of him.

“And it is,” you rushed to say. “It still is. I just—”

You exhaled shakily. “I’m starting to realize how temporary everything is. How one day you’re this invincible twenty-something and the next you’re watching everyone move forward while you’re still…” 

The sentence crumbled under its own weight, the rest of the thought too vulnerable to voice.

Your gaze dropped, voice softer. “I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if wanting more than what we already have—on what we agreed on—makes me… selfish.”

The word tasted bitter in your mouth.

You hadn’t meant to say any of it. These were just silly thoughts, the kind that came in waves after too many hours at your desk, when you passed a bridal shop and your reflection lingered in the glass, or when you found yourself staring at high chairs in restaurants, imagining a tiny hand reaching for yours.

Just stupid yearnings you tucked away before it could take root.

You shook your head, trying to laugh. “No, forget it. That was dumb,” you muttered. “I’m probably just missing you too much.”

The attempt at humor didn’t land, not even with yourself.

Shota shifted closer. His hand found yours, threading your fingers together.

“I don’t think wanting more is selfish,” he said, his voice low but certain. “And it’s not dumb.”

You stared at your hands, at the way his thumb moved in circles against your skin. “But we agreed—”

“We agreed on what made sense then,” he cut in. “That doesn’t mean we can’t want something different now.”

You fell quiet. And then, softly, almost as if he wasn’t sure you’d believe it—

“You’ve never asked for more than I could give. Not once. Even when you should have. So… be selfish. It’s okay.”

Your chest tightened. 

Of course he knew. 

Of course he’d noticed all the ways you held back. The weekends you gave up without complaint. The way you buried your feelings when his schedule didn’t align. The way you told yourself—and him—that you didn’t need anything else.

You thought you were being understanding. Strong. Low-maintenance. 

But he’d seen you. All of you.

And now, hearing it out loud, hearing him say it, had you remembering all the words you’d swallowed. But for once, they didn’t taste so bitter.

He exhaled. “I know I’m not easy. My job, the hours, the unpredictability… And yours is just as bad.” His eyes searched yours, steady and dark. “That’s why we told ourselves this was enough. Because we used to think people like us weren’t meant for that kind of thing.”

His fingers curled tighter around yours, guiding you gently into his arms. He pulled you in, tucking you beneath his chin.

“But right now,” he murmured, “it doesn’t sound so far away anymore. Doesn’t sound so foolish. Even if it’s messy. Even if we’re scared sometimes. If it’s with you… it’s something I’d want. And—”

He hesitated, the words catching in his throat.

You felt it in the way his fingers stilled, in the subtle shift of his breath. For all the steadiness in his voice earlier, this part had been harder for him to say.

Your heart softened. 

Shota never fumbled his words, not even under pressure. Apparently even he had his limits.

So you tilted your head toward him, voice no louder than the hush between heartbeats. “And?”

He looked down at you, gaze steady. Open. “And I wonder,” he said quietly, “if it’s something you’d want… with me.”

You almost laughed, but it came out as a shaky breath instead.

Not because it was funny, but because the weight you’d been carrying—years of quiet yearning, careful restraint—suddenly felt so light.

All that time spent tiptoeing, stuffing those dreams into the corners of your mind, convincing yourself not to need too much… and he’d been thinking the same things all along.

You’d both been afraid. Overthinking the same silences.

But here you were.

Asking the same question.

And finally wanting the same answer.

“Of course I do,” you whispered, words thick with emotion as you hugged him tighter. “I always have.”

Something in you finally let go.

It hadn’t broken anything. Saying it out loud hadn’t made it fragile. If anything, it had stitched the two of you closer—tightened something that had already been strong for years, but now felt even more solid. More real.

“I mean,” you added, blinking quickly to fight the sting behind your eyes, “I wouldn’t stick around for eight years with your grumpy ass if I didn’t want to.”

That earned a small huff against your temple. The tension in his shoulders eased all at once, and you felt the exact moment his smirk formed.

“Grumpy, huh?” he murmured, mock-offended.

“You scowl, like, constantly.”

“I’ve saved cities with this face.”

You pulled back, snorting. “Yeah, by making villains think you’re one of them.”

His hand dragged lazily up your arm, warm and familiar. “You’re not exactly sunshine yourself, detective. Didn’t you threaten to arrest me the first time we met?”

You scoffed, indignant. “You were covered in blood and refused to answer any questions.”

“I did answer,” he said. “I told you it was mine.”

“After fifteen minutes of silence,” you shot back. “And only when I blocked the exit.”

You could still remember that moment with startling clarity—the way his capture weapon had twitched when you stepped into his path, the way your quirk had hummed under your skin, ready to activate. A standoff between two overworked, underslept people with too much pride and no patience.

“I was trying to avoid paperwork,” he muttered, but there was no edge to it now. Only warmth and a hint of amusement.

“And I was doing my job,” you said. “Some scruffy stranger ducking out before forensics arrived? Covered in blood? Yeah, forgive me for finding that suspicious.”

A beat. 

Then you both cracked.

Soft laughter spilled out between you, warm and unguarded.

He shook his head, his eyes crinkling faintly at the corners. “We’re so stupid.”

“Mmm. Speak for yourself,” you said, smirking. “I’m delightful.”

Shota rolled his eyes, but his grin gave him away. “Sure. That’s why I keep coming back. For the delight.”

“Damn right.”

Your smirk barely had time to settle before he leaned in. His lips ghosted over yours, not kissing, just letting you feel the possibility of it. It was enough to steal the smugness right off your face.

“Oh, screw you,” you muttered, and kissed him first.

He chuckled against your mouth, the sound low and warm, vibrating between your lips as you tugged him in by the collar. It started off soft, familiar, but the way he gripped your waist told you exactly where this was headed. There was no rush, but no hesitation either.

“I love you,” he murmured in between kisses, just barely.

Your breath hitched. Fingers stilled against his shirt.

But before you could say anything back, he took advantage of the pause—your lips parted and your guard down. He kissed you deeper, rougher. Tongue sliding in, stealing the words right out of your mouth.

By the time you pulled back, flushed and breathless, his hands had already started roaming. One arm circled your waist, pulling you flush against him; the other palmed your chest through your blouse. He gave a squeeze, and you let out a startled snort, half scandalized, half amused at the sheer nerve.

“Are we really doing this on my couch?” you breathed, not quite stopping him.

He glanced around, casual. “There’s a desk right there.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you mumbled, swatting at his arm.

“What?” he said, unbothered. “You were complaining.”

“Shota—”

“So the desk thing’s a no?”

You narrowed your eyes, already fighting a grin. “I thought you already knew I like it when you take charge.”

He laughed hard, his hand sliding beneath your thighs. 

You barely had time to react before he lifted you, strong and steady, his breath brushing your cheek as he carried you the short distance across the room. Mischief burned in his eyes. You could’ve walked, but that wasn’t the point.

He set you down on your desk with a soft thud, knocking over a pen holder in the process. Neither of you cared. Not when his fingers were already working open the buttons of your blouse, slow but practiced, like he knew the exact rhythm that would drive you just a little crazy.

The fabric slid open and his mouth followed—shoulder, collarbone, a scrape of teeth that pulled a quiet sound from your throat.

You arched into him, gasping, and tugged at the hem of his shirt in return. Your hands slipped underneath, dragging your nails lightly up his back.

He shivered. And you smiled.

You loved that. How easy it was to unravel him. How willingly he let you.

You tipped forward, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “I love you too,” you whispered.

And just before things went further—before more clothes hit the floor, before the night dissolved into heat and motion—you cradled his face in your hands. 

You kissed him one more time. Gentle. Devoted. 

A seal on all the things left unspoken yet deeply and undeniably present.

Whatever the future held, you’d figure it out.

Together.

The lights were off, save for the faint glow of a desk lamp behind them—left on, probably, as an afterthought in the mess they’d made of the office.

The couch cushions shifted beneath his weight. 

Yn lay draped over him, her bare skin warm against his, cheek pressed to his chest, her breath slow. One leg curled between his. A hand rested lazily over his ribs. She was heavier now than she’d been an hour ago.

He wasn’t tired. Not yet.

His fingers moved through her hair, slow and steady. She liked that, or at least, she didn’t ask him to stop. Maybe she was asleep. Maybe not. He didn’t move to check, not wanting to disturb her. 

The silence was soft here, and they didn't get much of it.

He closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing with her. Letting the heat between them fade. Letting his body cool and settle.

She smelled like him now. Like night air and sweat and something sweet beneath it all.

He liked that more than he probably should.

They’d done this before, more than a few times. On couches, in beds, cheap hotel rooms. Hell, once on the floor of the dorms, curled up in his sleeping bag after she’d shown up past midnight with exhaustion in her voice and dirt on her boots. They were good at this—at catching up, making space, carving time out of whatever cracked hours they had left.

It always meant something.

But tonight felt different.

Not because of what they did.

Because of what they said.

His eyes opened again and he looked down at her.

Her lashes cast faint shadows across her cheekbones. Her lips were slightly parted, breath brushing warm against his chest. She looked… relaxed. Completely.

That was new.

Even asleep, yn was usually tense—wired from caffeine and adrenaline, her body half-braced for whatever new emergency might pull her from rest. But now… now, she was still. And Shota wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her this peaceful before.

His hand slipped from her hair, tracing slowly down the line of her spine. Not sexual, he’d done that plenty earlier. This was just… feeling her. Like he was mapping something fragile and didn’t want to leave a mark.

She shifted slightly, murmuring something in her sleep he couldn’t quite hear. Her face nuzzled further into his chest.

And that’s when he saw her hand again, splayed over his ribs. Unguarded and vulnerable.

He reached for it gently, cradling it on his own.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles, then down toward her ring finger.

And paused there.

Shota had never been a romantic. He wasn’t built for that kind of thing. Marriage had always sounded like too much noise, too many expectations. He didn’t think he had space for it in his life, and he didn't want to be someone else’s obligation.

He knew what it meant to be loved with conditions.

And worse, what it meant to love in spite of them.

But yn… she never asked him for more than he could give.

Never once made him choose.

And now, with her asleep on his chest, her hand in his, her ring finger bare beneath his thumb—he wondered, not for the first time, if maybe he could give her more.

Not because she asked.

Because he wanted to.

Not now. Not tomorrow. But someday.

When the world was a little quieter. When the nights weren’t quite so short.

He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to that ring finger. A soft, fleeting brush. Nothing she’d feel. But maybe something he’d remember.

She stirred faintly, but didn’t wake.

He exhaled through his nose, then tucked her hand to his chest. His other arm came around her, drawing her in closer, as if to shield her from the weight of everything outside this room.

He closed his eyes.

Sleep came easily now.

[dollyfetti]

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

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

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

until now, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"wasn't so bad, right?"

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

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

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

[satosugusthirdwheel]

Aphrodisiac trope starring: Aizawa 🩷

Shouta Aizawa x fem!reader (18+!!)

Synopsis: after being hit with a fog that acted as an aphrodisiac, the usually composed Eraserhead can only think of one thing: getting home and fucking his wife.

Content/warnings: oral (fem receiving), married, CNC/dubconish (somnophilia), p in v sex (no protection), aphrodisiac trope, dirty talk (plus nicknames like kitten)

(Authors note: Hi bbs! This is my first time writing aizawa but hes sooooo high on the list of hot anime men for me. It might be a lil out of character but I tried. He's a little hard to write. Hope at least a few people can enjoy🤭🩷😘)

Link to masterlist

It was a crisp night, but Eraserhead was burning up. He was short of breath, skin flushed, cock straining in his boxers, as he storms back to his apartment on campus. This was completely unlike the usual stoic, tired, withdrawn man that Shota Aizawa usually is. Normally after his hero work of the evening he'd trudge back home, slow and exhausted, greeting his wife lazily. But tonight was different.

His catch of the evening was a villain with a...strange quirk, to say the least. She'd had the ability to use certain emotion enhancing drugs, in the form of a fog, on her opponents. After a few weeks of hopping town to town being a pest in numerous ways, he finally had her cornered. She managed to get out of his eyeline, for only a second, but it rendered his erasure quirk useless for that time. As a hail mary, she'd released an aphrodisiac fog, hoping to throw him off his game. All it did was piss him off, red eyes glowing as he caught sight of her again, besting her and keeping her restrained as the fog dissipates and police arrive.

But even erasing her quirk and capturing her didn't make the effects on his body disappear. Since the villain had been getting more notoriety, the media was becoming familiar with her fog, and the medical recommendation for anyone affected is to 'wait it out.' As soon as the cuffs are on the villain, he's disappearing into the night in the direction of the school. His room. His wife who's probably falling asleep waiting, like she often does.

"I bet she looks so perfect right now..I just want to feel her around my cock..fuck. Come on Shota. get it together. You're not a god damn teenager" He thinks on the walk home. He's an adult for God's sake. A teacher. He knows all about control. And yet, here he is, unable to control his own body. His own thoughts. All he thinks of is her.

The moment he enters the room, he sees you curled up on your chair, book on your lap, blanket falling off. You look so peaceful, so soft, like an innocent little kitten. It's a stark contrast to his surprisingly desperate state. His cock is aching in his pants, balls heavy and begging for a release. His precum is dribbling out almost shamefully. Hes sweaty, flushed, almost shaking with how hard it is to resist pouncing into the room and yanking your shorts down. He's grateful it's past midnight and no one was out to see him like this. It's shameful, embarrassing, to fall apart like this.

He closes the door softly, and heads straight to the shower, trying to wash off the day and ignore the desperate aching of his cock. As he washes himself in the shower, he lets out a gasp when he touches his dick. It's painfully hard. And all he can think are the dirtiest, filthiest thoughts, all revolving around you.

"My wife. She'd feel so good cumming all over my dick right now..but.. i should go to bed, too.. I could hurt the poor girl like this" He thinks, desperately trying to rationalize with himself. He jacks his dick off, closing his eyes and throwing a hand over his face in frustration, picturing you. Your sleeping form, curled up on the chair, where you found yourself often. That, among other things, is what earned you the nickname Kitten, and the first time Aizawa said it his dick twitched in his pants.

"I want to use her. I'll never cum like this..this is torture" He grumbles into the hand covering his face. You and Aizawa didn't have a vanilla relationship by any means. Though you don't have time for intimacy every day (he's busy and needs rest too after all), you indulged in each others kinks with pleasure.

If he really wanted, he could wake you up with his dick buried deep in you, making your pussy gush before you're even awake enough to process it. You both would love that. But it's late..he knows he should just let you sleep.

But that fucking fog...all he can think is you. Your face, your hair, your voice, the way you moan, the way you sound coming undone on his cock, the way you taste, your fucking pussy...Before he can stop himself he's getting out of the shower, drying off quickly before heading back to where you were sleeping on the chair.

He picks up your book, setting it on the table next to you. Hes practically drooling as he looks at you, sensitive cock twitching, somehow getting even harder. He's big. He knows that. The first time you had sex, you thought he'd split you right open.

So, despite his sheer desperation, he doesn't want to hurt his precious little wife. Just ruin her a little bit..so Shota pulls your shorts off, then your panties, and lowers himself down, slowly moving your legs apart. You stir slightly, but stay asleep. "No matter. She'll be awake soon enough." He lowers his mouth to your pussy and licks a looonnggg stripe across it, slowly, moaning at the taste, the feeling. Just tasting you after the effects of the aphrodisiac is enough to have his dick leaking precum again. He brings a hand down to stroke it steadily as he dives into your pussy. As he starts to circle your clit with his tongue, you moan softly, in your sleep, almost a mewl.

"That's it, kitten" He moans into your pussy, feeling it starting flutter and clench. His voice is raspy, deep and oh, so sexy. Like she's inviting him inside. Your sleepy eyes flutter open before shooting wide, seeing your husband, between your legs, eating like a man starved. Youre already seconds from orgasm and you've only just woken up. You look at his face and the look in his eyes is unrecognizable. Like he's been starving for years and you've just offered him a hot meal.

"S-shota! Ohhh...welcome h-home" You squeal out, hips starting to thrust against his face, his scruff scratching your lips every so often. You love the way he looks right now. Face between your legs, glassy eyes, eating like his life depends on it, like he might die if he doesn't slurp up every last drop of your sweet juices. "What's..gotten..into you??" You question, between desperate gasps, trying to understand what led to your, usually calm and collected husband just about losing his mind and acting completely pussy drunk.

He pulls away from your pussy, but only enough so his lips can move. You can still feel them brushing against your aching clit as he talks, his breath hot.

"I got hit with that fog villains quirk. Some aphrodisiac. Messed me up. Got me needing your pretty pussy sooo bad, kitten. Just be a good girl for me and then we'll go to sleep" He says. Low, rough, almost slurring with how pathetically desperate be felt for you.

His mouth latches onto your clit again, sucking it and circling his tongue around it relentlessly. He groans into your pussy as if just eating it is the most amazing feeling in the world. He thrusts two fingers into you, starting to pump them in and out, knowing it will bring you closer and closer to the edge. Youre gasping, moans slipping out, bringing your hands to tangle with his damp hair. The warmth in your tummy spreads and grows. As the feeling becomes more and more like a tightly wound spring, you can't help the pleas that escape your lips.

"Shota...sho.......oh my god...I'm gonna cum, sho!" You moan loudly, eyes rolling back as you feel yourself hurtling over the edge of your climax. He keeps fingering you with a relentless pace, removing his mouth just long enough to speak.

"Eyes on me" he instructs. Commanding.

If there's one thing he loves above all else, it's looking into your eyes as you cum. Watching the pleasure wash over them. You force your eyes open, tilting your chin to make eye contact with him. "Yeahhh, good girl" he praises before he returns his mouth to your sopping pussy. All it takes is one more second before youre completely unravelling, moaning out broken sounds and words.

"Sho...sho...yes...daddy" you don't even register what you're saying, just that you're on cloud fucking nine. He slurps out the sweet, delicious wetness from inside your pussy, and if he didn't feel possessed already by the aphrodisiac, he was feeling it now.

He doesn't even give you time to process before he's picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to your shared bed.

"I need to be inside of that perfect cunt" He throws you down, before climbing over you immediately, nipping at your neck. He can't help the words coming from his mouth. Even as he says them he feels like a filthy old man but he just can't stop. He's not this kind of guy. He's rational. He's not a desperate pleading mess. He's no stranger to dirty talking you, but he just feels so unnecessarily vulgar today. He's never quite this talkative..and yet...

"Just keep those pretty eyes on me, doll. You can do that for daddy, right? Just look at me while I fuck this pussy stupid?"

You nod, looking at him with anticipation. You should've known that wasnt enough. You should respect him enough to give him a 'yes 'sir'

"Oh, that won't do. You'd think I taught her better."

He tuts, then lets his hand come down onto your pussy with a wet SPANK! that makes you jolt and lock eyes with him.

"Disrespectful little girl."

He takes your legs and presses them towards you, down, into a deep mating press. He can't help but kiss your ankle tenderly as he does so, though his hands do not get any more gentle. He notches his head at the entrance and without warning, thrusts in hard.

"You have no idea how bad I could ruin you right now. You wanna try again? Or you'd rather me edge you until you cry?" He asks, challenging you to act up. Daring you. His dark eyes bore into yours, intimidating.

You know he means it. He's the kind of guy that will edge you for hours, making you think you wont even be allowed to cum, for being so bratty, or irresponsible, or putting yourself in danger. He'll watch you plead, beg, cry, all while smirking to himself. He always gives in eventually, though, and lets you cum, even if it is after you're crying. Another one of those 'logical deceptions' he likes so much. You don't want that tonight, though. Not when he's so feral, so drunk on your pussy and looking at you with a dangerous look that you don't think you've ever seen on your husband.

"I-I'm sorry! Yes, sir" You say, quickly, punctuated by a gasp, then a cry as he hits your most sensitive spot inside your soft walls. "I'll k-keep my eyes on you"

His thumb comes down naturally to rub your clit in rough, tight circles. Your pussy gets drenched as soon as he does, and he can feel it coating his dick. He grunts, gritting his teeth, holding back his own climax.

"So tight, just for me"

You almost close your eyes in sheer ecstacy, but you follow your husbands instructions, if only because the look in his eyes tells you he absolutely will make you regret it if you don't listen.

"Only you..I'm all for you" you whimper out, so close to the edge that you're about to tip over.

His dick is so deep, kissing your cervix with each inward thrust, and just when you think it can't possibly get any better, any more intense, he brings a hand to press down on your lower belly, and you just about lose all control. You scream out, wanting to moan his name but your mouth just can't form words. Just unintelligible babbles and moans as you come unravelled.

"Just like that.. You're so good for me. Fuck you're so wet. I'll bet if I keep pumping this tight pussy you'll squirt all over my dick, won't you?" He teases, not slowing his thrusts for even a second.

You nod frantically, eyes locked on his, as you open your mouth to weakly sputter out a "c-can I? Pleeaasee"

You whine, pathetically. He smirks, that damn satisfied little smile of his, as he brings his face a little closer to yours.

"Go on then. Such a good girl, minding your manners" he remarks, his voice a low growl, forced out of his throat. He grunts a few more times, letting an uncharacteristically desperate moan fall from his lips, then another, fucking into your pussy with animalistic "Ah, ah, ah's" that you know you won't hear again from your stoic husband anytime soon. You revel in them, soak them up, memorize them as your vision goes white with your orgasm. You squirt, all over his dick, the wet slapping sounds echoing through the room. He finally relents to the overwhelming pleasure and spurts hot ropes of cum deep into your wet pussy, already slick with your squirt. He fucks you through his orgasm, before releasing your legs and slowing his thrusts, collapsing onto your chest for a moment. He breaths raggedly. The aphrodisiac still feels like it's in his system, but now it's mostly driving him to be close to you. Hold you, kiss you, touch you. But the ache of his cock is gone.

He brushes your hair out of your face, tenderly, placing a kiss on your forehead.

He rolls off of you, scooting up on the bed and pulling you up to cuddle into his chest.

"You were perfect for me. Thank you..I wasn't too rough, was I?" He knew he wasn't, but he's always going to check in after. That's just how he is. Hes always paying attention.

He strokes your hair gently,and pulls the blanket up tight around you both.

"No, it was amazing. Are you feeling okay now, love?" You ask, knowing it must have been a lot, being suddenly hit with that. "You caught the villain?"

"Of course I did. Her quirk was erased, but she managed to get out of my sight for just a second and use it. A damn aphrodisiac, of all the things she could use. I'm just glad I've got you at home to help me out." He says softly, still petting your hair.

"I'm glad you woke me up." You say, and he doesn't need to look at you to know you're smiling into his chest. "I love you, baby"

"I love you too. Now.. lets go to sleep. I need to feel you curled up against me for a few hours, my lil kitty cat." He says, already starting to doze off, comfortable in your warmth, the hand petting your hair growing slower and slower, until you both drift to sleep, tangled in each other. Exactly where you belong.

©satosugusthirdwheel do not repost, copy or use without credit to @satosugusthirdwheel on Tumblr. <3 blog is 18+

[blairxbear]

How they react to your praise during sex...

UA Part 1 / UA Part 2 / Pro Heroes / Villains

How would they react to your sweet words of praise during an intimate moment?

Featuring Pro Heroes: Toshinori Yagi/All Might, Shota Aizawa/Eraserhead, Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic, Enji Todoroki/Endeavor, Keigo Takami/Hawks, Mirai Sasaki/Sir Nighteye, Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fatgum, Snipe, Shinji Nishiya/Kamui Woods

Toshinori Yagi (All Might)

Toshinori craves validation—especially post-injury, when he feels like less of a man.

He’s embarrassed to admit how much your praise affects him, but the second you whisper "You're so strong," his breath hitches.

If you tell him "You make me feel safe," his hands tremble with emotion.

The moment you moan "You’re perfect, Toshinori," he completely breaks.

Toshinori hovered above you, his breath uneven, fingers shaking as they traced over your skin.

"You feel so good," you whispered, hips rolling up against his.

His entire body tensed. "Y-you really think so?"

"You’re perfect, Toshinori," you gasped.

His hips stuttered, his forehead falling against your shoulder as a deep, wrecked groan escaped him.

"God," he muttered, his movements turning desperate, needy. "Say it again—please."

You did.

And Toshinori completely lost himself in you.

Shota Aizawa (Eraserhead)

Aizawa acts like praise doesn’t affect him, but it absolutely does.

If you say "You feel so good, Shota," he grits his teeth and thrusts deeper.

If you whisper "I love when you take control," he tightens his grip on you.

The moment you call him "my strong, perfect man," he lets out a deep, broken groan.

"You feel so good, Shota," you whispered, fingers tangled in his messy hair.

His hips stilled. His breathing grew ragged.

"You’re my strong, perfect man," you moaned.

Aizawa growled, gripping your hips tighter.

"You really think that?" His voice was low, husky.

"Yes," you gasped.

Aizawa let out a deep groan before snapping his hips forward, his restraint completely shattered.

Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic)

Hizashi is cocky and playful at first—but praise completely breaks him.

If you moan "God, you feel so good, baby," he grins but blushes hard.

The moment you say "You’re my rockstar, Hizashi," he literally whimpers.

Call him "good boy," and he completely melts.

"You feel amazing, baby," you moaned, rolling your hips against him.

Hizashi choked on his breath.

"You’re my rockstar," you whispered, trailing kisses down his throat.

His hips jerked.

"Holy shit," he gasped, his grip on your thighs tightening.

"You’re such a good boy for me, Hizashi."

A wrecked whimper slipped from his lips before he completely lost control.

Enji Todoroki (Endeavor)

Enji acts unaffected, but he desperately craves praise.

If you say "You feel so good, Enji," his jaw clenches, and his hips stutter.

The moment you whisper "I love your strength," he groans deeply and grips you tighter.

If you call him "the best," he snaps and completely loses control.

"You feel so good, Enji," you moaned.

His hands tightened around your waist.

"You’re so strong," you whispered, trailing your fingers over his broad chest.

A low growl rumbled from his throat.

"You’re the best," you gasped.

Enji’s control shattered.

His pace turned rougher, deeper, desperate— as if he had to prove himself to you right then and there.

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

Hawks loves praise—it feeds his ego and wrecks him at the same time.

If you moan "You make me feel so good, Keigo," he grins but bites his lip.

The second you say "I love the way you touch me," he groans and moves faster.

Call him "my good boy," and he completely breaks.

"You make me feel so good, Keigo," you moaned.

Hawks smirked, but his breathing grew heavy. "Yeah?"

"I love the way you touch me," you whispered.

His hips snapped forward, his smirk faltering.

"You’re my good boy," you teased.

Hawks let out a wrecked moan, his wings twitching violently, as he completely surrendered to you.

Mirai Sasaki (Sir Nighteye)

Nighteye pretends to be unaffected, but praise destroys him.

If you whisper "You’re amazing, Mirai," he lets out a low groan.

If you say "You make me feel so good," his glasses fog up.

Call him "perfect," and he completely loses his rhythm.

"You’re amazing, Mirai," you whispered, fingernails trailing down his back.

His muscles tensed.

"You make me feel so good," you moaned.

Nighteye let out a ragged breath.

"You’re perfect," you gasped.

His hips faltered, his hands gripping you tighter. "D-don’t say things like that," he muttered, completely wrecked.

Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fatgum)

Fatgum melts at praise—he loves knowing he’s making you feel good.

If you say "You feel so good, Tai," he lets out a deep groan.

If you whisper "You’re my favorite," he gets rougher.

"You feel so good, Tai," you moaned.

His arms tightened around you, his movements slowing.

"You’re my favorite," you whispered.

A deep, rumbling groan left his chest as he snapped his hips forward, overcome with emotion.

Snipe

Snipe likes control—but praise makes him falter.

If you whisper "You make me feel amazing," he breathes heavier.

If you say "You’re so strong," he tightens his grip.

"You make me feel amazing," you whispered.

Snipe groaned softly.

"You’re so strong," you moaned.

His hips stuttered, his control slipping as he snapped forward, desperate for more.

Shinji Nishiya (Kamui Woods)

Kamui tries to be gentle, but praise makes him needy.

If you whisper "You feel so good," his branches tremble.

Call him "my strong man," and he completely breaks.

"You feel so good," you moaned.

Kamui’s breath hitched.

"You’re my strong man," you whispered.

His arms coiled around your body, pulling you flush against him as he lost himself completely.

Ko-fi / Masterlist

blairxbear © 2024. do not copy, modify, or translate my work. you do not have permission to share my work outside of tumblr!

[rosy-hollow]

Among the UA staff, an unspoken rule existed: no dating between coworkers.

…Good thing the rule was unspoken, right?

That’s what Aizawa tells himself as he lounges in the background, watching you take over his class for the day—demonstrating how the next training exercise would go.

The way the muscles in your forearms flexed as you jumped up to grab the bar above you, maneuvering through the obstacle course with ease—it was mesmerizing.

The exercise itself was quirk-free, focused solely on physical ability—your specialty as the conditioning instructor.

Aizawa snorts. The way the students watched you, they clearly thought it would be easy—they had no idea how much work you put into getting your current physique. It was something he’d always admired about you.

Once the students had dispersed per your instruction, you padded over to the tired teacher, a teasing smile on your face.

"Enjoying your relaxation time?"

He rolls his eyes, a rare smile stretching across his face. "You know it."

You hum, plopping down next to him on the bench. "You should wear your hair up more often," you quip, noting his hairstyle of choice for the day. "Suits you."

Aizawa lets out a choked sound, red creeping up his neck, but he makes an effort to hide it. He dismisses you with a smirk.

"Don’t get too used to it. I don’t normally get up early enough to do anything with it."

"Well, you never know~" you tease, noticing Kaminari getting stuck in the rope ladder. "I’ll be right back—got to deal with this."

The moment you walk away, Shota’s face flushes slightly at your comment, his heart thumping.

Walking away from the poor man, your back turned, you smirk.

As slick as he thought he was being, you knew him too well. Luckily, you felt the same—but you were way too petty to confront him yourself.

You were going to be the death of him.

A/N: kinda lazy but here's our favorite sleepy man :)

[angel-sweets666]

making out with mr aizawa

shouta aizawa x reader one shot

aizawas never had a crush on a ex student, never. That’s inappropriate. But when you reach your 3rd year at UA and turn 18/19/20, his drunken self manages to blurt out his longing for you.

mentions of katsuki bakugo x reader

YOU ARE OF LEGAL AGE, A ADULT, NO PEDOS. I DONT WRITE FOR PEDOS

Warning: alchohol ,making out, Mentions of sex. age gap (ur 18-20 years old and he’s around 33

You nervously waited for your name to be called, heart pounding as you anticipated your moment on stage. Three long years at UA High School were finally paying off; soon, you would be a pro hero. "Mina Ashido," Present Mic's voice boomed through the auditorium, snapping you out of your thoughts. You watched as your pink-haired friend happily skipped up to the stage, her carefree demeanor hiding the same nervousness you felt about graduating and stepping into the world of pro heroes.

Mina shook hands with Principal Nezu, who, to be frank, looked like a knock-off, whitewashed Mickey Mouse. The sight brought a small, nervous smile to your face. Then, she turned to Mr. Aizawa, your homeroom teacher. To everyone's surprise, he looked quite presentable for once! His usual shaggy hair was tied into a neat half-up, half-down style, and he wore a sharp red and black suit. His genuine smile for Mina was a rare and touching sight, sending a wave of warmth through the audience.

Mina, grinning from ear to ear, skipped down the stage steps after receiving her diploma. As soon as she reached the bottom, she dropped her act and yelled excitedly, "I GRADUATED! I ACTUALLY GRADUATED!" Her happiness was infectious, and the crowd erupted in applause and cheers.

Your nerves momentarily eased, you couldn't help but smile wider. Watching your friends achieve this milestone was both heartening and exhilarating. Soon, your name would be called, and you would join them in this monumental step toward becoming a pro hero.

you looked up at mr aizawa, he was always an attractive man but seeing him like this. Cleaned up and neat, made you feel something for him. Was this a crush? Little did you know he’s had the same feelings for you since your 18th/19th/20th birthday despite you being his student.

Present Mic's booming voice filled the auditorium, "Name Last Name!" His quirk negated the need for a microphone, causing your breath to catch in your throat. Slowly, you rose from your seat, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes upon you. Yet, amid the sea of faces, a particular gaze from the stage seemed to linger longer than the rest.

With measured steps, you made your way toward the stage, nerves and excitement swirling within you. You approached Principal Nezu, who greeted you with a warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Congratulations," his soft but oddly unsettling voice praised, "I see you will be a fantastic hero. Will you come to the after party?"

"Yeah, I will," you replied with a smile, trying to shake off the unease his demeanor had stirred within you. Moving on, you approached Mr. Aizawa, towering over Principal Nezu at his impressive 6'1" height. His usually disheveled appearance was surprisingly neat today, accentuated by a red and black suit that seemed out of character but fitting for the occasion.

You extended your hand, which he clasped in a firm grip that lingered longer than with the other students. "See you later, kid," he said, his usual stoic expression softening into a genuine smile that held a hint of affection. It was a rare sight from the usually gruff teacher, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude.

"Yeah, see you," you replied, returning his smile as you stepped away from him. Walking off the stage, it finally began to sink in. You had graduated from UA High School, marking a significant milestone on your path to becoming a pro hero. The applause and cheers from the crowd washed over you, your face lit up as you stared at all the people who were once your classmates and you began

You slowly made your way back to sit next to Mina, noticing her cheeks were even pinker than usual. "Did you see the way Mr. Aizawa looked at you!? He's so into you!" she squealed excitedly.

"Eugh, he's our teacher!" you gagged playfully, though a part of you secretly liked the idea of your former teacher having a crush on you now that you were no longer his student.

"Well, former teacher, actually," Mina corrected with a mischievous grin. "We graduated, and some of us are 20 years old. It doesn't matter! He's so into you, babe," she added, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You chuckled nervously, unsure how to process Mina's teasing. Mr. Aizawa had always been a supportive mentor, but you never imagined there could be anything more between you. Still, Mina's insistence and playful encouragement sparked a flutter of excitement in your chest. As you glanced back at Mr. Aizawa across the room, you caught his eye briefly, and for a moment, you wondered if there might be some truth to Mina's teasing after all.

some time later at the after party

As the evening unfolded after the graduation ceremony, you found yourself at the after-party, surrounded by your friends and fellow graduates. The venue was lively, with upbeat music filling the air and colorful lights dancing across the walls. Mina, true to form, was the life of the party, dragging you onto the dance floor while laughing and cheering.

The atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed, with even the former teachers joining in the festivities. Mr. Aizawa, now dressed casually and looking more approachable than ever, was engaged in conversation with some other graduates near the bar. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him letting loose, a stark contrast to his usual stoic demeanor in class.

You grabbed a drink from the bar and joined the circle of your friends, exchanging stories and jokes about your time at UA High School. Denki was showing off his dance moves, much to everyone's amusement, while Bakugo, surprisingly relaxed, recounted a particularly explosive training session.

Amid the laughter and chatter, you caught Mr. Aizawa glancing over at you from time to time, a small smile playing on his lips. It was a side of him you hadn't seen before, and it made you realize just how much he had cared about each of his students.

As you looked back at bakugo you tilted your head to the side “I’ve never seen you so relaxed, how much did you have to drink?” You giggled “I’m on my 3rd vodka!” He chuckled and leaned on kirishimas shoulder, the red head laughed and and pushed bakugo “get off me man!” He said with a raspy voice and happy tone. However you just could not get peace with the idea of aizawa, he seemed so calm for once, so happy.. maybe even attractive? You leaned over to Mina who was busy flirting with kirishima “should I go flirt with mr aizawa?” You asked the lively girl “OH MY GOD YES. GO GO GO, but after that you gotta go out with bakugo so we can go on double dates” she insisted “yeah alright, don’t go making me an aunt with kirishima Mkay?” You grinned at her while kirishima blushed and began making out with Mina.

you walked over to the bar and sat next to aizawa, looking over at him “so what are you gonna do now that we’re graduating?” You asked the 33 year old “ahh.. start over, teach first years and watch them graduate too.” He grins to you, alchohol on his breath. “Right yeah.. that makes sense” you nodded and grabbed a bottle of vodka “shit.. can’t believe i actually grad-” you were interrupted by aizawa placing his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him “you know since your birthday I’ve been thinking about you” he cooed, getting close to your face. He’s obviously saying this because he’s drunk, but drunk words are sober thoughts right?

you gulped “you have..?” You asked him, going from between his eyes to his lips “yeah.. you look so kissable..” he chuckled, leaning to kiss the corner of your lips. You let him peck your lips and cheek, blushing deeply.. his deep voice grumbled in your ear “let’s go somewhere more private yeah pretty girl?”

And that’s how you ended up here, behind the building making out with your high school teacher. Aizawa pushed you against the wall as he held your face, kissing you deeper. Your tongue swirled with his, he pulled back with a wet noise “god your good at this..” he grumbled and grabbed a handful of fat from your thigh and smashed his lips against yours again, using his other hand to twirl with your hair. You two kept this up for a while, only parting for air when needed then going back in for a passionate make out, he leaned down to kiss at your neck and play with your hair. Leaving deep purple hickeys across his neck “god I wanna fuck you dumb…” he mumbled against the skin on your neck

“then do it”

[kenzdolls]

GENTLE HANDS . 1.4k

⌗ synopsis: after another rough patrol leaves eraserhead injured, he finds himself in the UA infirmary once again under your gentle care.

⌗ pairing: shota aizawa x assistant nurse!reader

⌗ anon request: “hi!! i was curious if you could write a one-shot of shota aizawa x coworker/nurse!reader, where she helps with recovery girl and looks after him when he gets hurt after patrols or any other scenarios you can think of? i feel like he would be so sweet and really admire her for how dedicated she is to healing and taking care of him when he’s most vulnerable, putting his trust in her (T ^ T) also, it’s up to you if you’d like to include a healing quirk or not :3 thanks a bunch, i hope you have a good day!! <3”

⌗ a/n: tysm for requesting this!! sry for this not being my best post with my usual style of writing, I was kinda rushing..

the infirmary was quiet at 2:47 am, save for the soft hum of medical equipment and your pen scratching against clipboard paper. you'd grown accustomed to these late-night shifts, especially since recovery girl had begun relying on you more heavily. your healing quirk wasn't as powerful as hers—you couldn't instantly mend bones or close wounds—but you could accelerate the body's natural healing process and, more importantly, ease pain with just a touch.

the infirmary door creaked open, and you didn't need to look up to know who it was. the familiar shuffle of tired feet, the quiet grunt of someone trying not to show how much they were hurting—shota aizawa had a particular way of entering your domain.

"rough patrol?" you asked softly, finally glancing up from your paperwork.

aizawa stood in the doorway, his hero costume torn at the shoulder, a dark stain spreading across the fabric. his usually neat hair was even more disheveled than usual, and you could see the exhaustion weighing on his shoulders like a physical burden.

"nothing i can't handle," he muttered, but the way he favored his left side told a different story.

you set down your pen and stood, moving toward him with practiced ease. "that's what you said last week when you had three cracked ribs."

"they healed fine."

"because you let me help." you gestured toward the examination bed. "come on, aizawa. you know the routine by now."

he hesitated for a moment—he always did—before slowly making his way to the bed. trust didn't come easily to shota aizawa, but over the months you'd been working together, you'd noticed the walls coming down brick by brick.

"what happened this time?" you asked, washing your hands at the small sink.

"villain with a concrete manipulation quirk. got caught between a rock and a hard place, literally." he winced as he tried to remove his capture weapon. "building came down faster than i anticipated."

you moved to help him, your fingers gentle as you unwound the familiar gray fabric. "and you threw yourself in harm's way to protect civilians, didn't you?"

"it's my job."

"your job is to stop villains, not be a human shield." you set his capture weapon aside carefully—you knew how much it meant to him. "though i suppose that's part of what makes you a good hero."

aizawa's dark eyes met yours briefly before looking away. compliments always seemed to make him uncomfortable, but you'd noticed he never contradicted you anymore when you spoke about his heroic nature.

"let me see," you said softly, your hands hovering over his torn costume.

he nodded, and you began to carefully peel away the damaged fabric. the injury was worse than he'd let on—a deep gash across his shoulder blade, surrounded by angry bruises that would bloom darker by morning.

"aizawa," you breathed, concern evident in your voice.

"i've had worse."

"that doesn't make this better." you moved to gather supplies, your movements efficient but unhurried. "you need to stop downplaying your injuries. what if this had been infected? what if—"

"but it's not." his voice was quiet, almost gentle. "because you're here."

the simple statement made your heart skip, but you focused on preparing the antiseptic. "i won't always be here for every patrol, every fight."

"i know." there was something in his voice, a vulnerability he rarely showed. "i just... i've gotten used to having someone who cares whether i make it back in one piece."

you paused in your preparations, looking at him over your shoulder. "aizawa..."

"i know it's your job," he continued, staring down at his hands. "but it doesn't feel like just a job when you're the one doing it."

your chest tightened at his words. over the past year, what had started as professional care had evolved into something deeper. the way he trusted you with his pain, the way he actually listened when you scolded him about taking better care of himself, the way he sometimes fell asleep during treatments and you'd find yourself watching the peaceful expression on his usually guarded face.

"it's not just a job," you admitted quietly, returning to his side with the medical supplies. "not anymore."

he looked up at you then, really looked, and you saw something shift in his expression.

"this might sting," you warned, gently cleaning the wound.

he barely flinched, too used to pain, but when you placed your palm against his uninjured shoulder and activated your quirk, you felt him relax under your touch. the soft, warm energy flowed between you, not enough to heal him completely, but enough to ease the worst of his pain and kick-start his recovery.

"better?" you asked.

"always is, with you."

you began stitching the deeper part of the cut, your movements careful and precise. aizawa watched you work, and you could feel the weight of his gaze.

"you're different when you're working," he observed quietly.

"different how?"

"confident. sure of yourself. it's... attractive."

you nearly dropped your needle. "aizawa—"

"shota," he corrected. "i think we're past formalities."

your hands stilled for a moment. "shota, then."

"i've been thinking," he continued, his voice low and thoughtful. "about what you said. about not always being here."

"it's just the reality of—"

"i don't want there to be a time when you're not here." the words came out in a rush, as if he'd been holding them back for too long. "not just as my healer. as... more."

you finished the last stitch, your hands trembling slightly. "what are you saying?"

"i'm saying that somewhere between the first time you scolded me for not coming in sooner and last week when you fell asleep in the chair next to my bed, i realized i trust you with more than just my injuries." he reached up, his fingers barely brushing yours. "i trust you with everything."

your breath caught. "shota..."

"i know i'm not easy to care about. i'm too stubborn, too reckless, too—"

"too selfless," you interrupted, finally meeting his eyes. "too brave. too willing to sacrifice yourself for others." you set down your medical tools and turned to face him fully. "too afraid to believe you deserve to be cared for."

"do i?" the question was barely a whisper. "deserve it?"

instead of answering with words, you leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, your quirk naturally activating to soothe away the tension lines that lived there permanently.

"every day," you whispered against his skin. "every single day."

when you pulled back, his eyes were soft in a way you'd never seen before.

"the healing thing," he said quietly. "it's not just your quirk, is it?"

you smiled, understanding what he meant. "no. it's not."

"good," he murmured, his hand finding yours. "because i think i need both kinds of healing."

"lucky for you," you said, squeezing his hand gently, "i'm not going anywhere."

for the first time since you'd known him, shota aizawa smiled—really smiled—and you realized that sometimes the most profound healing happened not with quirks or medicine, but with trust, time, and the simple act of caring for someone who'd forgotten they were worth caring for.

"now," you said, reaching for a bandage, "let me finish patching you up so you can get some actual rest."

"will you stay?" he asked, then quickly added, "just until i fall asleep. these beds aren't exactly comfortable, and sometimes the nightmares..."

"i'll stay as long as you need," you promised, beginning to wrap his shoulder with practiced care. "that's what people do when they care about each other."

"i'm still learning that," he admitted.

"then i'll keep teaching you."

as you finished tending to his wounds, shota settled back against the pillows, his eyes already growing heavy. you dimmed the lights and settled into the chair beside his bed—the same chair you'd occupied so many nights before, but this time felt different. this time, you weren't just his healer.

"thank you," he murmured as sleep began to take him.

"for what?"

"for seeing something in me worth saving."

your heart ached with the sweetness of it, with the trust implicit in his words. "there was always something worth saving, shota. you just had to let me show you."

his breathing evened out, and you watched the peaceful expression settle over his features. tomorrow, he'd probably try to return to patrol too soon, and you'd have to scold him into taking proper time to recover. tomorrow, you'd have to figure out what this new dynamic meant for your professional relationship, for the careful boundaries you'd built.

but tonight, you simply held his hand in the quiet darkness of the infirmary, your quirk humming softly to ease any pain that might disturb his rest, and marveled at how the strongest people were often the ones who most needed someone to catch them when they fell.

and you'd be there to catch him, every time.

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© KENZDOLLS 2025 . do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work in anyway including the use of ai onto any other social media platforms or it will permit an instant block on all platforms.

[etherealvampire6]

Shota Aizawa Headcannons

|дﾟ)ﾉ Most of these headcannons are not mine and I do not take credit for all of them. But I just remembered reading them from many different platforms, so credit to the people who did think of most of these!

If he has a crush on you ೃ⁀➷

● At first, Aizawa would be in complete denial.

●The realization wouldn’t hit him all at once—it would creep up on him over time. Maybe he catches himself thinking about you on his way home or noticing when you’re absent more than he would with anyone else.

● At first, he rationalizes it. Your a close friend. We work together all the time. It’s normal to think about you.

●But then it keeps happening. He finds himself anticipating your reactions in conversations, noticing when you seem off before anyone else does, and feeling a little more at ease whenever you’re around. That’s when it starts to bother him.

●He became hyper aware of you. Listening intently on whatever you had to say.

● He doesn't remember a time when he'd actually liked ANYBODY romantically. So it was a surprise to him when Mic told him he was feeling 'butterflies'for you. And that he was developing a big fat crush.

● His initial thought? This is a problem.

●Aizawa isn’t the type to welcome strong emotions, especially ones that make him vulnerable. He’s been through too much, lost too many people. Letting someone get that close is dangerous and he doesnt know if he could take it. So his first instinct is to push it down, to convince himself it’s nothing.

●He’d shut down any thought of it being more than respect because admitting otherwise would mean confronting something he’s not ready for.

● Every time he catches himself watching you too long, he forces himself to look away. If his heart picks up when you smile at him, he ignores it. If he feels a little lighter when you’re around, he tells himself it’s just because you’re easy to talk to.

● He’s would have to have been your friend for a while to actually find a connection with you to feel this way, but your just his friend—of course, he cares. That’s all it is.

● He notices how his mood shifts depending on how you’re doing. If you’re stressed, he finds himself wanting to ease the burden, even if it’s just by taking an extra task off your plate. If you’re laughing, he finds himself more at ease, like the tension in his chest loosens just from hearing it. And when you’re in danger—even in a controlled training scenario—there’s a sharp, involuntary spike of protectiveness that he can’t explain away.

● Still, he crushes it down. He’s lost too much already. Letting someone in like that? That’s not something he can afford. So he tells himself, over and over:

● Your just a close friend. And it stays like that for a while.

● At some point, no amount of rationalizing works anymore.

●Maybe it’s a quiet moment—just the two of you, sitting in the teachers' lounge after a long day, the air thick with exhaustion but comfortable. You’re rambling about something, maybe venting about paperwork or laughing at a dumb joke Hizashi made earlier, and he realizes—this is different.

● He’s not just protective of you because you’re a coworker. He doesn’t just respect you because you’re strong and capable. He likes you. In a way that terrifies him.

● When he accepts his feelings for you, he also starts realizing why he likes you. You care for his students the same way he does, you want to push them to their limits to ensure their prepared, people feel safe in your presence, and best of all. You were kind. There were so many things he didn't even think were special about you at first.

●But the second that realization settles in, so does something else: He can’t do anything about it.

●If he did, it would change things. Right now, you’re his closest friend, someone he trusts completely. If he confessed, and you didn’t feel the same, it would make everything awkward. And even if you did like him back, it would mean opening himself up to something dangerous—something fragile. He’s lost people before.

●He knows what it’s like to let someone in, only to have them ripped away. If you were just a friend, it was easier to pretend you were safe. But if you were something more? If things were official, then losing you would mean losing a part of himself.

● So he keeps his feelings locked up, refusing to risk it.

● Instead, he settles for what he can do. He talks to you like normal, acts like nothing has changed.

● But if someone were paying attention, they’d notice the little things—how he always makes sure there’s a chair open next to him when you walk into the room, how his usually tired voice gains just a bit more energy when you’re involved in the conversation, how he watches you more than he should, like memorizing your presence without realizing it.

● You never notice the way his fingers twitch, like he wants to reach out but won’t let himself. Or how he lingers for a second too long when you say goodnight after a late shift, like he’s reluctant to watch you leave.

● You’re still his closest friend. And as much as it hurts, that has to be enough.

● But when he does accept it, nothing changes. He still has his mind set on keeping you as just a friend, just his coworker or whoever you are.

● A lot of fics involving him have him pounce on you just because you do something he likes or you did something on 'purpose' he likes just to flirt with him. He is not that lustful, especially if he's not even dating you.

● Some fics also don't look into what it would mean if he did have a crush on you. It'd take some time for him to accept it, and even more time for him to express those feelings. I can see him wanting to be careful with these new feelings and act rational about it, not randomly pinning you against the wall and being aggressive while confessing.

● You would only stay a crush for a long time. Your somebody he respects and somebody important. He'd make sure he knows you might even consider him a dating option. He would think about your feelings as well.

If he was dating you ೃ⁀➷

● It took him a while to even consider a relationship. He was convinced no problems would be created if he'd just left his feelings alone and continued life the way it was.

● But he'd realized it wasn't very rational of him to be pushing you and his feelings away because of fear. Afterall, being rational was his whole motto.

● I can only see him dating somebody he has a real connection and past with. If you were somebody he'd just met a few months ago I doubt he'd feel any strong feelings for you.

● At the start of the relationship, he didn't feel like anything changed. You both knew tons about each other so nothing really felt awkward, you didn't have to start out like normal couples do.

● He would talk to you as he normally did, but now that he's accepted that he might actually love you, he's definitely more affectionate when speaking to you. He wasn't just your friend anymore.

● He's in it for the long run. Hes already in his 30s. He doesn't even know what a situationship is. Hell, girlfriend didn't even sound right to him. You were unofficially his wife.

● He doesn't entertain any unnecessary drama. If your committing acts that he finds disloyal or crude just to get his attention, or for the sake of it. He wouldn't think twice about leaving you, maybe even forcing himself to forget you. But he wouldn't be dating you if that was the kind of person you were.

● Doesn't feel the need to constantly check on your location or ask where you are. he'll ask once, and then he'll go about his tasks when you two are apart. If he didn't trust you could take care of yourself he wouldn't be dating you. Your grown and he trusts you completely. He shouldn't have to check on you like a child.

● He shouldn't have to feel he might lose you constantly even more than he does. You should be able to keep yourself safe if he's not around, so his fear of losing you isn't 10x worse.

● He isn't overly protective of you outside of battle, and he isn't controlling. If you need his assistance he'll be there as long as you voice your need for him to step in, or he'll step in himself if he can tell you might need help.

● Same goes for in battle, he fully trusts in your abilities to protect yourself. But if he knows he can help and protect you in any way he's already there. He can't lose you.

● He isn't controlling. Once again, you're a grown adult who can make your own decisions. And if you do something he isn't comfortable with you doing, he'll tell you,

But he wouldn't want to have you follow his every request and demand. plus, he doesn't really mind the stuff you be doing, he trusts that you would never cheat or do something harmful.

● He doesn't show you off outright, he prefers to keep his private life PRIVATE. But he also isn't afraid to talk about his wife to others, he's quite fond of you. and would immediately put a stop to any disrespect towards you (he almost expelled mineta for this)

● He isn't overly affectionate, but he also isn't afraid to show his love for you. having a bad day? he isn't afraid of hugs.

● He isn't a big fan of PDA. Hes a very private man. but he'll occasionally guide you with his hand on the small of your back or holding your wrist or hand for a short amount of time in public.

● Away from the crowd, though, is when he really shows you how he feels. Holding your hands, cupping your cheek, brushing hair out your face, and hands on your waist occasionally.

● He's never felt romantic feelings for anybody until you stole his heart. So he found himself learning new things about what makes his heart skip a beat. Which is almost everything. (He's a very touchstarved man, has always been reserved)

● His favorite form of touching is you sitting on him on the couch or the bed, your arms around his neck and face tucked into his hair or scarf, with his arms hugging you tight. It doesn't even have to be dirty. He loves hugging you this way.

● He knows what things you like, he has never felt pressured by you to impress you with exquisite dates and fancy and expensive gifts.

● You'll go on a date once every 2 or 4 months, and the date is meaningful instead of pricy, so are his rare gifts. He won't say its a gift, just something he picked up that made him think of you.

● Yes, he's a tired man, but that doesn't make him a bad boyfriend. I dont know why people make him out to be a slacker when it comes to putting any effort into a relationship. He's fully capable of having a balance in his life that doesn't clash with your relationship. Yes, he does push people away out of fear, but after he made up his decision to love you, he wouldn't ruin it by being a jackass.

● He can appear rude to others, mainly because he doesn't filter his words or ideas for others. He often comes off as cold, apathetic, and impatient, exerting very little energy in most situations. But really his interior is different from how people view him. He wouldn't be as cold and distant after deciding on having a relationship, if he wasn't ready he wouldn't be dating you.

● He doesn't keep up with his appearance but he still keeps up with his hygiene. There's a difference. And after his first shared shower with you, it turned into one of his favorite things. (Secretly he loves your fancy soaps)

● The both of you shared your boundaries long ago, and they seemed to be working well. You needed space? That's perfectly fine. He needs to get some stuff done anyway.

● He takes naps all day in school, and he knows you don't. so when it's time to come home, you're already asleep while he's cooking for you or grading papers. You graded your papers during the school day, and he did it while you were asleep or on your patrol. Usually your routines never clashed in a negative way.

● Though sometimes he's able to put his work aside for come join you. He loves sleep more then work anyways.

● But don't think he'll disregard his job as a teacher at your request. You wouldn't, and one of his favorite things about you is that your passionate about your work as well.

● cooking! A hc I love was that his mama was a foodie. and he was forced to learn all types of cooking styles. but before you moved in he lived off occasional small snacks and Ramen. not anymore! he cares way more about your health then his, your the same way. So dinner is prepared once in a while when you both have time.

● He wouldn't be jealous of any guy or women that talks to you, but if it was downright obvious they were flirting with you. He'll glare at them, sometimes even using his quirk to scare them, and the flirter usually gets uncomfortable just from the intensity of his gaze. If not, either you shut them down or him. And his way might not be as nice.

● He values silence as much as your presence. You don't always need to talk; just existing in the same place is enough for him. But when he does talk, his words are thoughtful and deliberate if not in a sarcastic manner.

● Life with him is pretty uniform, but never boring. His job is full of chaos and unpredictability, so he craves consistency. He likes knowing you'll be there at the end of the day.

● He isn't blind, he analyzes the thing you do and like and remembers them. He knows how you like your coffee, your habits, your weird need to reorganize the bed pillows everyday (which he doesn't mind as long as it doesn't interfere with his nap time) and the things that comfort you or make you feel excited about.

● He might not say I love you often, but you know he does. he shows it to you everyday through his actions.

● him calling you kitten as a nickname feels cringe. Kitten is a baby cat and calling a grown adult it makes it feel like a predators fetish. He would call you Y/n, maybe even call you baby (yes baby is for young children but its been more normalized fas being a nickname for someones sweetheart) or even call you honey further into the relationship. You'd have to initiate it at first though, then it'd become normal for him.

● he won't say he misses you, but will say something like "you were gone for too long"

General Headcannons ೃ⁀➷

●He let's eri do his hair, never his makeup. Only when she's feeling down.

● He needs reading glasses but refuses to wear them in front of others. Having a quirk that messes with the healthy part of his eyes made glasses a need.

● He dislikes when people are unpunctual (Present mic in most cases)

● Shota likes cats. In fact, he still owns the cat Shirakumo rescued back in high school when it was a kitten.

● His room is quite empty, which reflects his apathetic behavior.

● Shota's specialty is short-length sneak attacks.

● Shota is a social drinker. (I believe this is actually cannon but I forgot what Manga panel showed this)

● He's the mayor of a Minecraft world class 1A created and regularly plays (he's never joined, not once)

[writeriguess]

Hello how are you? can i ask you for an imagine or headcanons please with Aizawa and Hawks (and Dabi or Fatgum if you can and want) if you don't mind where his girlfriend Y/N who is a pro hero (top 10 and with a strong quirk) got in the way during the fight with Stain (or another vilain) and the students of UA and was found injured

Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead)

You were barely conscious when they found you. The sharp sting of pain in your ribs, the sticky warmth of blood on your skin—it was all secondary to the ringing in your ears. You could hear muffled voices, urgent and frantic, but the darkness tugging at you was persistent.

And then you felt him.

Rough, calloused hands gripping your wrist, checking your pulse. The shift of fabric as someone crouched beside you. Then—his voice. Low and steady, but frayed at the edges.

“Y/N. Stay with me.”

Aizawa.

You wanted to respond, to reassure him, but your body refused to cooperate. You felt a hand press against your cheek—warm, grounding.

“You better not fucking die on me.”

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

The steady beep of a heart monitor greeted you when you woke. Your body felt like it had been through a meat grinder, and breathing sent sharp pain through your ribs. The too-white hospital lights burned into your retinas as you forced your eyes open.

A figure sat beside your bed, arms crossed, eyes dark.

Aizawa.

His gaze snapped to yours the second you stirred. Relief flickered across his face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by something colder.

“You’re a damn idiot.”

Your throat was dry, voice raspy. “Good morning to you too.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Don’t.”

You swallowed hard. “Shouta—”

“You almost died,” he interrupted, voice eerily even. “In front of my students. In front of me.”

The weight of those words pressed down on you. You had seen Aizawa mad before—at reckless students, at irritating paperwork, at stubborn higher-ups. But this? This was different. This wasn’t just anger. It was fear, buried deep beneath his exhaustion.

You tried to sit up, but he immediately pushed you back down with a firm hand.

“Stay still.”

You exhaled, wincing at the tightness in your chest. “The students—”

“They’re fine.” His fingers curled into his sleeves. “They wouldn’t have been if you bled out in front of them.”

“I had to step in,” you murmured. “They’re still kids, Shouta. You know that.”

His hands clenched. “I also know that you’re not invincible.”

“I never said I was.”

“Then why the hell did you act like it?” His voice rose slightly, raw with frustration. “Do you even know what it felt like? Watching you drop? Seeing you covered in blood and not knowing if you were going to make it?”

Guilt twisted in your stomach. “Shouta…”

“You were reckless.” His dark eyes burned into yours. “And if I hadn’t gotten to you in time, I’d be sitting in a morgue instead of a hospital room.”

You felt the bed dip as he leaned in, elbows resting on his knees. His hair was unkempt, his under-eyes darker than usual. Had he even slept?

“I can’t do this,” he muttered, voice lower now. “I can’t lose you.”

Your chest tightened, but not from the pain this time. You reached for his hand, fingers brushing his wrist. He didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face before finally looking at you again. “Just… don’t do that again.”

“I’ll try.”

“That’s not good enough.”

You squeezed his hand. “I promise.”

Aizawa studied you for a long moment before sighing. He let his head drop slightly, his forehead just barely touching your arm. His grip on your hand tightened, grounding both of you.

“Good.”

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

Pain was the first thing you noticed. It radiated through your body in sharp, pulsing waves, making it hard to breathe. Your limbs felt heavy, your mind sluggish. Distantly, you registered the scent of smoke, the crackling of fire, and the sound of distant shouting.

And then—wings.

A gust of air brushed over you, followed by the rapid thud of boots against the pavement. A voice—frantic, desperate—cut through the ringing in your ears.

“Y/N!”

A familiar warmth wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly. You barely registered the red feathers encircling your body, supporting your weight as you were cradled against something solid and warm.

“H-Hey, stay with me,” the voice pleaded. “C’mon, baby bird, open those pretty eyes for me.”

You wanted to respond—to tell him you were still there—but your body refused to obey. The darkness pulled at you, and this time, you didn’t have the strength to fight it.

The steady beep of a heart monitor was the next thing you heard. The scent of antiseptic burned your nose, and your entire body ached like you had gone ten rounds with a Nomu. You forced your eyes open, wincing at the sterile brightness of the hospital room.

And then you saw him.

Keigo sat in the chair beside your bed, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed. His golden eyes were fixed on the floor, but his wings twitched with restless energy. The usual lazy smirk was gone.

You licked your cracked lips. “Keigo…”

His head snapped up so fast you thought he might get whiplash. His wings flared slightly, his eyes wide with something raw.

“You’re awake.”

You tried to smile. “That obvious?”

The reaction you expected—his usual teasing, a cocky quip—never came. Instead, Keigo surged forward, cupping your face between his hands. His touch was gentle, but his fingers trembled against your skin.

“You scared me,” he breathed. His voice, usually so light and carefree, was barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard. “Keigo, I—”

“No.” His grip tightened, just enough to keep you there, to keep you looking at him. “You don’t get to pull that shit on me.”

Your throat tightened at the raw emotion in his voice. “Keigo…”

“I saw you bleeding out,” he continued, his wings drooping. “You were lying there, and I—I couldn’t get to you fast enough.”

You knew he was fast. Faster than anyone. But even Hawks had limits.

“You got to me,” you murmured.

“Barely.” He let out a hollow laugh. “I’m the number two hero, and I still wasn’t fast enough. What the hell kind of hero am I if I can’t even protect the person I—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply.

Your heart ached at the frustration in his voice.

“You did protect me,” you insisted. “If it weren’t for you, I might not be here at all.”

Keigo shook his head, golden eyes flashing. “I should’ve been there—”

“Keigo.” You reached for his hand, your fingers brushing his wrist. He immediately caught your hand in both of his, gripping it like a lifeline.

The room was silent for a moment, save for the quiet beeping of the monitor. Keigo bowed his head, pressing his forehead against your knuckles. His hands were warm, but they trembled slightly against yours.

“I can’t do this again,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t lose you.”

Your chest tightened. You had seen Keigo flirt his way out of countless situations, had watched him laugh in the face of danger. But this? This was real. Unfiltered. Raw.

You squeezed his hand. “You won’t.”

He let out a shaky breath. “Promise me.”

You gave him the best reassuring smile you could muster. “I promise.”

Keigo exhaled sharply before shifting forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His wings curled slightly around the bed, as if shielding you from the rest of the world.

“You’re never scaring me like that again,” he murmured, voice low and steady.

You closed your eyes, breathing him in. “I’ll try.”

Keigo let out a breathless chuckle, his grip on your hand never loosening. “That’s not good enough.”

You cracked an eye open, smirking despite the pain. “I promise.”

This time, he smiled too. It was small, a little broken, but real.

Dabi

Pain clawed through your body like a wildfire, searing and unrelenting. The world around you was a blur of destruction—smoke curling into the night sky, the acrid scent of burned concrete and singed flesh thick in the air. The muffled sounds of battle were fading now, distant, like they belonged to another world.

You weren’t sure how long you had been lying there.

Somewhere in the haze, you heard boots scraping against the rubble. The slow, deliberate pace sent a shiver down your spine, even in your half-conscious state. Then, a familiar voice cut through the ringing in your ears, rough and laced with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Oh, hell no. You are not dying on me, sweetheart.”

The warmth of calloused hands ghosted over your cheek, tilting your head ever so slightly. A thumb brushed against your blood-smeared skin, just light enough to ground you.

You knew that voice. You knew that touch.

Dabi.

You tried to speak, but your throat was raw—probably from screaming. The only sound you managed was a weak rasp.

Dabi’s hands twitched against you. His movements weren’t rushed, but there was a tension in his body, coiled tight beneath his patchwork skin. His breath was uneven.

“You look like shit,” he muttered, but the usual sarcasm was absent.

You let out something between a laugh and a cough, pain flaring in your ribs. Dabi’s jaw clenched. His fingers curled into the tattered fabric of your suit.

“Dammit, Y/N,” he growled. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You tried to blink the blurriness from your vision, swallowing hard. “Students… they needed help…”

Dabi exhaled sharply through his nose. “Yeah? And who the hell was supposed to help you?”

Your body felt impossibly heavy, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. “Didn’t… think that far ahead.”

A dark chuckle left his lips, but there was no humor in it. “No shit.”

A moment passed. Then another. The distant chaos of sirens filled the background, but Dabi wasn’t moving.

Your vision cleared just enough to see his expression—his usual smirk was gone. His blue eyes, always filled with mischief or malice, were stormy, dark.

You had seen Dabi angry before. You had seen him cruel, amused, even amused at cruelty.

But this? This was different.

His jaw tightened. His fingers dug into your suit. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Your breath hitched. “You… care that much?”

Dabi let out a sharp laugh. “Don’t act so surprised, sweetheart.”

His voice was quieter now, rough around the edges. He glanced away for half a second, running a hand through his wild black hair. The soft glow of flames reflected in the staples lining his face.

“I thought you were dead,” he admitted. “For a second. And that second sucked.”

You exhaled a weak chuckle. “That bad, huh?”

His gaze snapped back to you, sharp and burning. “You think this is funny?”

The heat in his tone startled you. You had never seen him like this before.

“You don’t get it,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “You don’t get what it would’ve done to me if you actually died.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Dabi’s fingers traced the edges of your bruised cheek, his touch uncharacteristically soft. “I don’t do attachments,” he muttered. “Never have. They make you weak. But you?” He exhaled harshly. “You fucked me up, Y/N.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

“I don’t know how to do this shit,” he admitted, his voice raw. “I don’t know how to care about someone without it ruining me. But here I am, sitting in a pile of rubble, begging you to stay alive.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

Then, after a long moment, Dabi scoffed. “Tch. I probably sound pathetic.”

You mustered whatever strength you had left, lifting a trembling hand to cup his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your fingers—always running hot, like he was seconds away from burning the whole world down.

“You don’t,” you whispered. “Not to me.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable. Then, in one swift motion, he surged forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath was hot against your lips, his grip firm on your wrist.

“You’re not allowed to die,” he murmured. “Got it?”

You nodded weakly. “Got it.”

Dabi exhaled, his grip on you never loosening.

And for once, he didn’t try to hide the way his hands trembled.

Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fatgum)

Your body felt like it had been through a meat grinder. Every breath sent sharp pain slicing through your ribs, and your limbs refused to move the way you wanted. The ground beneath you was rough, littered with debris, and the distant sound of sirens barely registered through the dull ringing in your ears.

You had fought hard. Maybe too hard.

The students… you remembered them. You had jumped in before the villain’s attack could reach them. You knew you’d get hurt, but that didn’t matter at the time. You just needed to protect them.

Now, as the world around you blurred in and out of focus, you started to regret how reckless you had been.

Then, a shadow loomed over you. Heavy boots pounded against the broken pavement, followed by the sound of something massive shifting. A warm, familiar voice—usually so full of energy—was laced with something you had never heard from him before.

Panic.

“Oi! Y/N—! Stay with me, ya hear?”

You felt strong arms wrap around you, lifting you with almost ridiculous ease. The warmth of his body surrounded you, and even in your dazed state, you recognized it.

“Tai…” you murmured, voice hoarse.

His grip tightened. “Aw, hell—why’d ya have to go an’ do somethin’ so damn reckless?!”

You could hear the strain in his voice, the way it wavered ever so slightly. You had never heard Fatgum sound scared before.

“Had to… help,” you whispered.

Taishiro let out a sharp breath, adjusting you carefully in his hold. His usually cheerful expression was twisted into something pained, his brows furrowed, jaw clenched.

“Help? Y/N, ya almost died,” he gritted out. “What kinda help is that, huh?”

You managed a weak chuckle. “The good kind?”

Taishiro let out a deep, frustrated sigh, but his arms never loosened around you. You could feel the way his body trembled—something completely foreign for a man built like a fortress.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he muttered.

Your eyelids grew heavier, exhaustion tugging at you. You felt warm—safe, despite the pain—but you couldn’t fight the weight dragging you down.

“No, no, no—hey, don’t you go closin’ those eyes on me,” Taishiro warned, his voice low and urgent. “You stay with me, Y/N.”

“Tired,” you murmured.

“I don’t care,” he snapped, his grip tightening just a bit. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere, ya hear me?”

You forced your eyes open, just barely. Taishiro’s face was close to yours now, his expression raw. His usual grin was gone, replaced with something that made your chest ache.

You had seen him in the middle of battle, had watched him take brutal hits with a laugh, but you had never seen him like this.

“C’mon, sugar,” he pleaded, his voice softer now. “I need ya to hold on.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to focus. “I’m here.”

Taishiro let out a shaky breath, his arms adjusting around you as he pulled you closer. “Good,” he murmured. “That’s real good.”

The sirens were getting closer now. Help was coming. But Taishiro didn’t let go, didn’t shift his grip.

He just held you.

And for the first time in your life, you saw Fatgum without his usual smile—without his endless optimism. Just Taishiro. Just the man who was terrified of losing you.

“I got ya,” he whispered. “I got ya, Y/N. Always.”

And this time, you believed him.

[constanttea]

⛧ ༺ Start Your 7-Day Free Trial Now ༻⋆⛧

SMAU One-shot

✰ ✰ ✰

Aizawa X Reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ * Fake Dating ੈ✩‧₊˚ *

⛧°⋆༺ Until Next Time ༻⋆°⛧

[cherryblossombankai]

Hello! I would love to see if I could have a head canon on how present Mic and aizawa make their girl squirt?

Warnings: oral (fem recieving), female reader, overstimulation, squirting, edging

Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @sweet-chocolate-sweet, @helloiamadrawer, @satorustar, @missmadness123, @keiva1000, @copolite01

Shota Aizawa - Eraser Head

Aizawa doesn’t even really try to make you squirt. It just happens, usually when he’s going down on you. 

How does he achieve this? Good old-fashioned overstimulation! 

He’s obsessed with eating your pussy, and will go at it for hours if you let him. He lays his head on your thigh, then lazily laps and suckles on your clit while pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

He has you pinned down to the bed underneath him. His hair is splayed out across your thighs as he sucks eagerly at your swollen clit. Long, slender fingers rub against that sweet spot deep inside of you. The sheets are soaked beneath you. Your arousal glistens against his stubble. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum by now. Your hands push at his head, whining as he eagerly works you towards another orgasm. 

“Can’t take it,” you whine. 

“One more, baby. Just one more,” he purrs softly and drags his tongue over your sensitive clit again. He quickens the pace of his fingers. 

You push on his head again, and in response, he pins your hands down across your stomach. One hand manages to hold down both of your wrists. He grunts against your cunt when he feels your walls clenching around his fingers. Your thighs shake around his head, and an intense orgasm crashes over you.

Your pussy gushes as you arch your back, riding out the wave of pleasure. Aizawa pulls back with a smirk as he watches you squirt. He adores the way you look so fucked out when you come down from your high, your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are glazed over. Your hair sticks to your sweaty forehead. 

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs softly before coming to kiss you softly.

He cleans you up, and changes the bed sheets. After tucking you in, he brings you a glass of water and something to snack on. He lays beside you, holding you close and kissing you soothingly.

Hizashi Yamada - Present Mic

 He’s got tricks up his sleeve. It’s as simple as that. 

He opts to use every tool when he wants to make you squirt. This often comes in the form of sex toys. 

He prefers to be inside of you when you squirt. He loves the feeling of you soaking him and the way your cunt tightens around him. 

The vibrator was buzzing at the highest setting available. Your legs are spread wide up, resting on his shoulders, as he pounds into you without mercy. He holds the wand against your clit. With a quick push of a button, he lowers the setting right when you’re about to cum and slows his pace. You whine in protest, but then he picks back up again. 

“Fuck, Hizashi!” you cry out in pleasurable agony. 

“Poor baby,” he coos teasingly at you. 

Your swollen clit is aching as he holds the vibrator against it, knowing just how you like it. His cock is hitting every spot inside of you that has your toes curling with pleasure. You feel your orgasm building again and your body is tense with the effort of trying to hide it. You hold back your moans, but he knows. 

This time he pulls the vibrator away from your clit completely and stops fucking you. The cry of frustration you let out is adorable, especially when he interrupts it with a hard thrust. The vibrator is once against pressed to your clit, the sensations making you shudder. 

The next time you’re close, he lets you have your release. You’re practically screaming his name as you soak him and sheets with your release. He looks so smug as he watches you have the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. 

“I bet I can make you do it again,” he says with a grin. 

[simplyraeblue]

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Professional (Shouta Aizawa x reader)

!afabreader x aizawa as a teacher, reprimanding wasn't uncommon for you to practice. you being reprimanded? only allowed by Shouta Aizawa. WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing, NSFW, MDNI, p in v, creampie (don't be silly wrap your willy!), somewhat public sex, sex on a desk, going commando (couldn't be me), no pronouns used, use of sweetheart, light bondage (gagged by a tie), punishment kink A/N: art above by ficel_art on instagram! I saw it on pinterest first but immediately deep dove onto their account. dadzawa was just too hot in this art to not immediately write something for him ( ´ཀ` ) word count: 1,930

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you loved being a teacher at U.A. – but some days, it felt like the little future heroes were actually little devils. it was about the third time that little… twat waffle… named Katsuki Bakugo had interrupted your class just today to bully Izuku Midorya. while your mental nickname for him wasn’t very teacherly, the best you could do was to speak to his homeroom teacher.

after lunch had started, you marched your exhausted ass to Shouta’s classroom. someone needed to knock some sense into that kid, and you were very sure it wasn’t going to be you doing the job. if you tried… well, you’d probably lose your job with the words you’d use. and Bakugo could be even worse in return, you were certain of that.

you didn’t bother to knock at the door as you shoved it open to find Shouta sitting at the desk grading a stack of papers. he glanced up at your loud intrusion, an eyebrow arching up when he saw the look on your face, already knowing that you were ready to unload.

“who was it today?” Shouta hummed as he merely returned his focus to the homework in front of him without missing a beat. you slammed your hands on his desk, earning his full attention on you.

“I’m going to try very hard to speak in a professional manner, so listen up because I’m not repeating myself.” you warned him with a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. Shouta raised an eyebrow, hands up in a silent gesture to proceed. “I know you love your students – and don’t try to lie – but you need to reprimand Bakugo more often. he’s disrupted my class every day this week, and I’m seriously considering putting him on probation from participating in the sports festival.”

Shouta slowly stood, moving around the desk as he processed your words, nodding along. “so, you think he should be punished?” he asked, his voice even.

you nodded firmly. “and I’m asking you to help.”

he gave a small, knowing shrug. “and you’re trying to be professional about it?”

“well, I like to think of myself as a professional most of the time.” you chuckled dryly as you shook your head. in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were getting close to the point where you might use your quirk on the brat a few times… but that would only happen if you were specifically asked to for training purposes.  

Shouta had made his way to your side by now, standing a few inches from you as he smirked. when you noticed his expression you raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know that I’d call you the most professional of teachers.” he told you as he looked down into your eyes.

“what’s that supposed to mean, Shouta?” you dared to ask, still confused as to where he was going with this. “are you going to give me an exhaustive list of the reasons I’m not professional, because it wouldn’t be the first time you have.”

“no, not an exhaustive list today.” he snickered before his hand drifted to grasp at your hips. you jumped slightly at the contact, sucking in a breath when he ruched the hem of your skirt in his fingers.

he’d been watching you since this morning, the black pencil skirt you wore showing off the plush of your ass as you walked down the hallway to attend to the students. his eyes followed you like magnets wherever you went – and he hadn’t been ignorant enough to miss the tiny little detail he was about to bring to your attention.

before he spoke again, he swiftly lifted you to sit on the edge of his desk, causing you to gasp. when he leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, he whispered, “for now, let’s start with the fact that you’re not wearing any panties.”

immediately, a smirk crossed your lips. “ah, so you finally noticed?” you murmured, cheeks heating with his breath on your ear.

“I noticed long ago. I’m assuming this was for me?” he asked as his nose nuzzled your neck, making you groan. “you just couldn’t wait until we were home could you, sweetheart?”

“you’re always so tired when you get home, I just wanted you to know what you had to look forward to.” as you explained, you thought back to getting dressed this morning – you’d quickly thrown on your outfit, neglecting your panties while your husband was in the bathroom. Shouta had been none the wiser when he’d come out, simply giving you a morning kiss before the two of you left for work.

“I don’t know, I kind of want it right now.” you pulled back to study his face, seeing them dark with desire as his hands palmed your ass through your skirt. “we have some time while the students are at lunch, what do you say?”

you were reminded every day of how hot your husband was, and now was no exception. “lock the door.” you instructed him, to which he pushed off of you and secured the door. when he returned, he wasted no time in crashing his lips into yours.

“we should still be quick, sweetheart. don’t want any of the students roaming the hallway to hear us.” Shouta whispered between your lips, taking your lower one into his mouth and sucking harshly on it.

“then you’d better be quiet.” you teased, something that you always learned your lesson for doing later. you felt him smirk into the next kiss he gave you as he pushed your skirt up to your waist, cold air hitting your wetting pussy.

he knew how to be fast, and quiet. it was something Shouta learned very quickly within his line of work – but you’d figured out how to make that increasingly more difficult for him to put into practice. your hands all but ripped his belt off before shoving his pants and boxers down, revealing his cock standing at attention.

god, he’d thought about using his lunch time to find a secluded place and jerk off to the thought of you. after noticing your lack of underwear this morning, it was all he could think about, repeatedly having to clear his mind while working. but this was even better, he thought.

you watched in awe as Shouta pulled his tie off, and just as you wondered if he would throw it to the side, he instead pushed the fabric between your teeth and swiftly tied it behind your head. “now, you have to be the one to be quiet.” Shouta taunted as he placed a light kiss on your gagged mouth.

while he lined his tip with your seeping hole, you whimpered against the fabric muffling your words. Shouta was painstakingly slow in pushing inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his immense girth as you moaned at the feeling of his veiny cock molding your walls.

when he finally bottomed out, he let out a low groan of pleasure before placing a hand on your chest and pushing you back to lay flat on the desk. “I’m beginning to think your lack of professional is what needs to be punished.” Shouta teased as he leisurely rolled his hips into yours causing your eyes to roll back. “but I guess I’ll have to save your true penalty for tonight, since we need to be quick.”

 you nodded fervently as he began to slam into you, the desk creaking beneath you with every bullying thrust. “please.” your beg came out muffled, but enough for him to understand.

Shouta’s lips covered yours to add an extra layer of quieting your noises, his dick now repeatedly slamming into your walls with a fierce pace. he pulled away for a moment to spit onto your clit before his fingers began to work the sensitive nub. “don’t worry, sweetheart. tonight, you’re going to get a good punishment that I think you and I both will enjoy.” you whimpered at the thought, already knowing your ass would be bruised and sore come tomorrow morning.

“fuck I’ll never – mph – get sick of – hah – this pussy.” Shouta bit out with each smack of his hips into your ass, the noises the two of you were creating become filthier every second. as he brutally circled your clit, pinching it between his fingers, you moaned into the now wet fabric between your teeth. he always had been an expert at getting you close with almost no effort, and you could already feel the knot coiling in your stomach. “so perfect for me sweetheart. such a perfect wife.”

he was a little sad that he needed to be fast, wanting to savor every bit of you, but after looking at the clock Shouta realized that time was almost up. “gonna need you to – hmph – come on my cock now, sweetheart. need you to come before I fill you up.”

with his demand, he slapped a hand down onto your clit harshly, making your back arch off the desk in response. “Shouta!” your husband’s name barely passed your lips before he smacked your clit again, caressing it between each contact until you were coming undone beneath him. “m’ coming!”

Shouta swore under his breath as he watched your body convulse below, your pretty eyes rolling back just as your slick walls clenched around his cock. if he had more time, he’d keep going until you couldn’t walk for a week – but he’d just have to save it for tonight. for now, he allowed his release to barrel over him alongside yours.

his head fell down between your covered tits, the fabric of your shirt doing nothing to hide them as he muffled his own whines of pleasure before he was shooting ropes of cum inside you. he’d buried himself to the hilt to make sure you got every last drop, praying it was deep enough to ensure it stayed trapped inside of you for the rest of the day.

with perfect timing, he started to come down from the high just as the bell rang, echoing in your now almost deaf ears. Shouta slowly pulled out, hissing at the loss of warmth against his cock, before quickly pulling his tie from your lips. he used it to clean himself up before kneeling down to wipe away any mess he’d left between your thighs.

“maybe I should’ve brought a backup pair of panties.” you groaned as you slowly sat up. “now I’m going to have to worry that our unborn children are going to leak down my thighs the rest of the day.”

“you wicked woman, that foul mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day.” Shouta smirked as he kissed you softly. you watched as he walked back around his desk and opened a drawer, before he pulled out a pair of your panties. “it’s a good thing I noticed before we left the house and brought these just in case.”

your jaw dropped out as you snatched them from him. “you knew! and you let me think I’d seduced you.” a pout formed on your lips before you slipped the underwear on, praying it was enough to prevent any embarrassment.

Shouta only caressed your head, his lips meeting yours again. “you seduce me without even trying, sweetheart.” you grinned at the words until his hand gently wrapped around your throat. “but don’t forget, you’re still getting reprimanded later.”

you’d never been so excited to get punished.

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Link to Kirishima x reader here (word count: 902)

Link to Shoto x reader pt. 1 here (word count: 1,800)

Link to Kaminari x reader pt.1 here (word count: 2,680)

Link to Bakugo x reader here (word count: 2,328)

Link to Hawks x reader here (word count: 1,903)

[blairxbear]

Hit with a Villain’s Sex Quirk & They NEED You NOW!

UA Part 1 / UA Part 2 / Pro Heroes / Villains

They’re desperate, aching, and the only thing that can ease their suffering… is YOU

Featuring Pro Heroes: Toshinori Yagi/All Might, Shota Aizawa/Eraserhead, Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic, Enji Todoroki/Endeavor, Keigo Takami/Hawks, Mirai Sasaki/Sir Nighteye, Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fatgum, Snipe, Shinji Nishiya/Kamui Woods

Toshinori Yagi (All Might)

The moment the quirk hits, he stumbles, gasping sharply.

His body, even in his weakened form, is trembling, aching, overwhelmed with heat.

His usual composure? Completely gone.

“This… this is highly inappropriate… but— I… I need you, my love.”

His hands tremble as he reaches for you, afraid he’ll lose control.

Every brush of your touch makes him groan softly, his restraint slipping.

“Please, darling… I don’t think I can handle this alone…”

He tries so hard to stay composed, but the second you give in?

He’s completely undone.

Shota Aizawa (Eraserhead)

At first, he thinks he can sleep it off.

Nope. Big mistake.

His entire body feels tight, his skin overly sensitive, his breath ragged.

His usual exhaustion is replaced with a desperate, throbbing need.

Catches your wrist when you try to check on him, his grip surprisingly firm.

“…Don’t get too close unless you’re ready for what happens next.”

His voice is lower, rougher, his pupils dilated with hunger.

Grits his teeth, trying to fight it, but every second that passes makes him weaker.

“Y/N… I need you. Now.”

Once you let him touch you? There’s no going back.

Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic)

LOUD about it.

“OH FCK, BABE— I THINK SOMETHING’S WRONG—”*

His voice literally shakes from the need coursing through him.

Can’t sit still, pacing, running his hands through his hair, his whole body buzzing with tension.

Tries to joke through it at first.

“Hey, sweetheart, y-you wouldn’t mind helpin’ your favorite DJ out, huh?” (nervous chuckle, but he’s dying inside.)

His hands shake when he finally reaches for you, his cocky confidence completely gone.

“I can’t… I c-can’t handle this anymore. I NEED you, babe.”

The second you touch him? He’s a goner.

Enji Todoroki (Endeavor)

Immediately clenches his fists, his flames flaring wildly.

He tries to fight it. He hates feeling out of control.

But the heat pooling in his body is unbearable.

“Tch—what kind of quirk is this?!”

Breathing hard, trying to stay composed, but his hands are shaking.

When he sees you? He completely snaps.

“Y/N— come here. Now.”

His usual restraint is completely gone.

Grabs you by the waist, his touch feverishly warm.

“You’re the only one who can fix this.”

Doesn’t take no for an answer.

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

Gasps softly when the quirk takes hold, wings shuddering.

His entire body flushes hot, his feathers ruffling as he stumbles.

Tries to play it off.

“Oh, sht. Uh. Babe? I think we got a problem.”*

Laughs weakly, but his hands are already gripping the nearest surface, his legs shaking.

His pupils are blown wide, his usual cocky grin replaced with desperation.

When he sees you, he immediately moves—

One second, you’re standing still, the next, you’re pinned against the nearest wall.

“Fck, babybird… I need you so bad.”*

His wings twitch as he presses against you, his breath shaky.

You can feel him trembling with need.

Mirai Sasaki (Sir Nighteye)

Grips the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

His usual composure is completely shattered.

His breathing is ragged, his entire body tense, as he struggles to fight the quirk’s effects.

When you step closer, his sharp green eyes lock onto you with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“…Don’t come any closer, unless you’re ready to handle the consequences.”

His voice is low, strained, rough with need.

You’ve never seen him look this desperate before.

When you finally reach for him, he exhales shakily, his hands gripping your hips in a bruising hold.

“You’re the only one who can fix this, my love.”

Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fatgum)

At first, he laughs it off, but when the heat really sets in, his smile falters.

His usual soft demeanor is gone—his muscles tense, his jaw clenching as he breathes heavily.

Shifts uncomfortably, his hands shaking as he grips his knees.

“Oh, sugar… I think I got myself a lil’ problem.”

His body feels heavy with need, his heart pounding like a drum.

Looks up at you, his face flushed, his expression desperate.

“You gotta help me, sweetheart. I don’t think I can take much more…”

Grabs your hand, pulling you onto his lap, holding you tightly.

His body is burning with need, and he needs you now.

Snipe

Tenses the moment the quirk hits, his breathing slowing.

At first, he grits his teeth, trying to control himself.

But the moment he sees you? All bets are off.

Steps toward you, his voice husky, strained.

“Darlin’… I ain’t gonna last much longer.”

Tips his hat down to hide his face, but you can see the way his body trembles.

When you touch him, he exhales sharply, his hands gripping your waist.

“You best be ready, sweetheart… ‘cause I need you real bad.”

Shinji Nishiya (Kamui Woods)

Immediately stiffens, his branches curling around himself as he shudders.

His usual control over his body is completely gone.

Grabs onto the nearest surface, his entire body hot and throbbing.

When he sees you, his golden eyes darken.

“…Y/N.”

His arms reach for you before he even realizes it.

Breathing heavily, his body aching, his fingers twitching.

“I— I need you. Now.”

No teasing, no hesitation—he needs you immediately.

Ko-fi / Masterlist

blairxbear © 2024. do not copy, modify, or translate my work. you do not have permission to share my work outside of tumblr!

[redr0sewrites]

"loser dabi" "loser tomura" "loser hawks" what about loser AIZAWA. what about old and awkward and bitter Shouta Aizawa who thought he'd never find love- until u appear in his life, pretty and a bit younger and full of brightness, the type of partner he'd never thought he'd have, and suddenly all of his nonchalant and quiet personality is torn away as he becomes an awkward and flustered mess. he doesn't know how to handle it, this influx of new feelings and attraction, and we all know he's not the best at people skills... not that you mind of course, to you, it's just endearing to see the strong willed and so called icy Eraserhead mumbling like a teen just because he's asking you to go out and get coffee with him <33

[frickingnerd]

dating aizawa & hizashi

pairing: shota aizawa / eraserhead x gn!reader x hizashi yamada / present mic

tags: polyamorous relationship, silly & wholesome fluff, 'secret relationship' (from their student), supportive!class 1A

aizawa fell in love with you first, but hizashi was the one who acted on his feelings first!

aizawa is more so the type to quietly pine for you, but thanks to hizashi, he got roped into confessing to you as well, leading to the three of you becoming a thing!

hizashi is the openly affectionate one of the bunch, always having an arm wrapped around you in public, while aizawa can get very clingy as well, but only in private!

only hizashi and you know about aizawa's clingy side – and occasionally tease him about it! but it's nice to see him let his guard down around the two of you…

while aizawa wants to keep his relationship with you a secret, hizashi can't help but let it slip to his colleagues, which leads to his students finding out about it as well – which was exactly what aizawa tried to prevent!

the students of class 1A are quite invested in your relationship with their homeroom teacher and think you make a lovely couple! and some of them even admire you for pulling both aizawa and hizashi at the same time!

the three of you likely move in together soon after you start dating. it's not like aizawa or hizashi are home very often anyways, always busy with work, so it doesn't really feel like a big step for you

though whenever they are home, the three of you have a date night! aizawa and hizashi cook for you and you usually end up falling asleep cuddling on the couch, while watching some movie…

[actuallysaiyan]

Can I please get #9 with Aizawa? 😫😫😫 I love you!

warnings: smut, suggestive themes, vaginal fingering, rough kissing

Dating Eraser Head proved to be interesting most times. He wasn’t one to spend much time in the limelight. In fact, it was always the opposite. He kept himself hidden from the public eye whenever he was able to.

And especially when it comes to matters about you. He kept that very private. So that meant barely any PDA. He didn’t want anyone to find out. And it wasn’t because he was embarrassed or ashamed. It was because he knew what the press and society and the world would do if they found out about your relationship. They’d never shut up. All the cameras and all the questions, it just made him feel so gross about the situation.

So things were always kept private, until one day…

He doesn’t even understand why he’s feeling this way. Shota Aizawa has pretty good self-control, but today you are looking just a little too damn cute. Having you work with him as a teacher at UA sometimes makes it harder for him to keep you at arms length in terms of hiding the relationship.

It’s just after school when he’s grading papers that it hits him even harder. He’s been having to see you in that damn cute dress all day and it drives him up a wall. He knows you’re not doing it on purpose; you’ve always loved to dress nicely. But fuck, did you have to give him an almost hard-on every time you pass by?

You knock on the door, smiling when you see him so hard at work. The minute he looks up at you, he’s done for. The man gets up from his chair, and then he grabs you lightly by the wrist to pull you into the teacher’s lounge. He closes and locks the door, pinning you to it so he can kiss you roughly.

“Wearing that fucking cute dress all god damn day,” he grunts as he nips at your bottom lip. He guides your hand to his crotch. “Do you fucking feel that? Feel how hard you got me.”

You squeeze teasingly, and Shota growls. He hikes your dress up over your hips and his long fingers begin to tease your pussy through your panties. He’s had enough of this. He’s going to have you at his mercy now. Your head falls back against the door as he slowly circles your clit with precision.

“Awhhh, how cute. Have I rendered you speechless?” 

You let out a cute mewl when he kisses your neck, followed by a loud moan when he bites down and sucks on the tender flesh. His fingers continue to press and rub on your swollen nub through the soaked fabric of your underwear. He chuckles at the way you’re moaning for him.

“You’re just trouble,” he breathes into your ear. “Causing problems for me all day in that cute little dress and those stockings. You wanted me to notice you, didn’t you?”

Your cheeks burn at his word, your tongue feeling tied. Shota has this very effect on you. He just knows exactly how to press your buttons to keep you on your toes. He smirks when he looks at your cute reaction. Then he pushes your panties to the side, sliding two of his fingers into your wet pussy. You let out a very loud cry, making him kiss you hungrily.

“Shhh! You don’t want to get caught, do you?”

You shake your head, but you��re just a trembling mess now as he pumps his fingers into you, hitting your sweet spot. Aizawa smirks at the way he’s rendered you absolutely weak.

“Better keep yourself quiet,” he grunts as his nips at your earlobe. “Or else I’ll have to make you grade those papers.”

dividers: @adornedwithlight