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aikrus · 26 days ago

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My Sweet Kitten, Please Be Good

The room was dimly lit, with a soft, calming ambiance. The scent of Aizawa’s place—clean with a hint of something warm, like sandalwood—enveloped you, mixing with a heady spiced cinnamon, making everything feel both familiar and exhilarating. His cats had found their favorite spots around the apartment, quietly curled up on chairs or windowsills, watching you with disinterest, while Mochi, his gray tabby, still lounged in your lap. But tonight felt different, the tension between you and Aizawa subtly charged with something you both had been holding back for too long.

You'd both talked before about trust, desire, and the way boundaries blur when you're completely safe with someone. While you weren't insecure about your quirk, having long since grown into the bushy tail, puffed ears, and sensitive palms, it was something that Aizawa trended incredibly lightly over- especially in bed.

He shifted closer to you on the couch, his long fingers brushing over your leg before tracing a path up to your chin, tipping your face toward his. His dark eyes, so often unreadable, were filled with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. You could feel it in the way he looked at you— his touch, while gentle, held a new kind of authority that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You’ve been so good tonight," Aizawa murmured, his voice deep, almost a purr itself, as his thumb brushed your bottom lip. His gaze flicked down to Mochi, still content in your lap, before slowly returning to you. "It makes me wonder how obedient you can really be."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body reacting instinctively to the suggestion in his words. There was something playful, yet intense, in his tone—something that hinted at a game he wanted to play, one that excited him as much as it did you.

Aizawa leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Do you trust me?"

You nodded, your voice coming out in a soft, breathless murmur. "Yes, Shouta."

His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn’t rushed—Aizawa was never rushed. He was always calculated, always in control, and it showed in the way his tongue slid against yours, teasing and exploring, as if savoring every second of your response.

When he pulled back, his eyes were darker, more intense, and his fingers tightened slightly around your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your heart race.

"I think it’s time we play," he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl.

Aizawa’s love for cats was no secret, and that was what you chalked up the reasoning for him never acknowledging those parts of you specifically. Now though, with the absolutely obsessed face he made as he stroked your ear between two fingers and moaned at your purr, you knew otherwise.

"Good God," he whispered, brushing a thumb against your lips again. "I want you to be my little kitten tonight."

The words sent a thrill down your spine, and you felt yourself instinctively lean into his touch, your mind already racing with the possibilities of what he had in mind. Aizawa’s hand left your neck and reached over to the coffee table, where he picked up something that had been sitting there—an object you hadn’t noticed before. It was a soft black choker, adorned with a small silver bell that jingled faintly when he picked it up.

Your heart skipped a beat as he held it up, the subtle jingle of the bell making you hyper-aware of the shift in dynamic between the two of you. Aizawa’s dark eyes met yours again, his gaze unwavering as he leaned in closer, holding the bell between his fingers.

"Let’s see how well you play the part," he murmured, his voice like velvet as he brushed your hair back and wrapped the choker around your neck. His fingers were deft, careful, as he secured it in place, the bell resting lightly against your throat. The sensation of it there—a small, constant reminder of your submission—made your pulse race.

Once the choker was in place, Aizawa’s eyes flicked down to your chest, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smirk as the bell jingled softly with every subtle movement you made. He leaned back slightly, his hands trailing down your sides as he looked at you with a mixture of admiration and desire.

"Such a pretty little kitten," he said, his voice low and husky as he traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "Do you know what good kittens do?"

You shook your head slightly, your breath coming out in shallow, uneven gasps as you waited for him to continue.

"They listen," he said softly, his fingers brushing over the bell at your throat, making it jingle softly again. "They follow instructions. They’re obedient."

You panted at the heavy fog and deep burning that sounded you.

"If they're good," he lifts his head and sucks the tip of your ear into his mouth, "they get rewarded." His hands pulled gently at the hem of your shirt, slowly spreading up your stomach and ribcage to sliver under your bra. "If they're bad," he said casually as his fingers swiftly seized your nipples and began to tug and kneed, "they're punished."

Aizawa’s eyes darkened as his hands slid lower, resting on your thighs as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear once more. "And I think you’re going to be a very good kitten for me tonight, aren’t you?"

Your body was already trembling with anticipation, the heat between your legs growing more intense with every word he spoke. You nodded again, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, "Yes, Shouta. I’ll be good."

Aizawa’s lips curled into a pleased smile, and he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling back slightly. "That’s what I like to hear," he murmured, his hands sliding up your thighs, parting them gently as he positioned himself between your legs.

He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands caressing your skin with a kind of reverence that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers traced over the soft fabric of your underwear before slipping beneath it, his touch warm and firm as he explored the wet heat between your legs.

You gasped softly, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand as he teased you, his fingers brushing lightly over your clit before sliding down to your entrance. The bell at your throat jingled softly with every movement, a constant reminder of the game you were playing, the role you were fulfilling.

"Such a good girl," Aizawa murmured, his voice full of praise as his fingers slowly slid inside you, curling and exploring in a way that made you moan softly. "So wet already."

His touch was slow, methodical, each movement of his fingers calculated to drive you closer to the edge without giving you the release you craved. He was taking his time, savoring every moment, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

And all the while, the bell continued to jingle softly, a quiet, constant reminder of your submission, of the power he held over you in this moment.

Aizawa leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispered, "Kittens need to be spoiled, don’t they?"

Aizawa's breath was warm against you, and the sensation of his lips, soft yet deliberate, sent shivers through your body. The way he spoke—low, rough, with an undertone of possession—made you ache with need. His fingers, slow and precise, moved inside you, pushing deeper as he claimed every inch of your response.

His touch was gentle, but it carried with it an edge that had you trembling beneath him, the need for more, for everything, building rapidly. You could feel your body tightening, the tension pooling between your legs as he controlled every movement.

"You’re so good for me," he muttered against your skin, his voice thick with desire. "Look at you, following my every move."

You gasped, your hands gripping his forearm, your head falling back as his fingers moved faster, bringing you closer to the edge. The bell on the choker jingled with every shift of your body, reminding you of your role in this quiet, intimate game. Aizawa was treating you with a mixture of care and dominance, a perfect balance of trust and control.

"Do you like this, kitten?" Aizawa’s breath was a hot whisper against your ear as he leaned in to kiss your collarbone, his fingers never ceasing their movement. "Do you like being spoiled like this?"

You could only nod, the words caught in your throat as the pleasure swirled inside you, too much and not enough all at once. Every part of you burned with need, and the only thing you could focus on was how good he made you feel—how completely he had you.

"I’m going to take care of you," Aizawa whispered, his tone more intense now, and the possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill through your body. His hand slid from your neck down to your chest, tracing the curve of your breast before tugging at the fabric of your clothes, exposing more of your skin to him.

You shivered under his touch, the way he looked at you—hungry and affectionate at once—making your pulse quicken. You wanted him so badly, you needed to be closer, to feel every part of him. Without thinking, your hands roamed to his shirt, fumbling slightly as you tugged at it, eager to have him bare before you.

Aizawa pulled back just enough to help you, his dark eyes locking with yours, and his expression was soft yet commanding. His fingers, still deep inside you, stilled as he looked down at you, watching your face, waiting for you to meet his eyes.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low, filled with anticipation.

You nodded, your lips trembling as you whispered, "Yes... I need you."

He didn’t hesitate after that. Aizawa withdrew his fingers, his other hand helping you to sit up as he finally, finally shed the rest of his clothes. The moment his body was bare before you, you gasped—he was lean, muscular, every inch of him sculpted with care and strength. His eyes watched you, calm yet burning with intensity as you took him in.

You were both on the edge—both desperate for the same thing.

Aizawa’s hands rested on your hips, his touch gentle, though the way his thumb traced slow, deliberate circles made your breath catch. He leaned in, his lips pressing against your temple in a fleeting, tender kiss before moving down, brushing his lips over your neck, your collarbone, your chest—each kiss building the heat between you.

His hands slid to your thighs, parting your legs as he positioned himself between them, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he looked up at you one last time. The bell on your choker jingled softly, a quiet, constant reminder of the game you were playing, the trust and control, the way he made you feel—like a kitten in his care.

"You’re mine, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice rough with desire, and without waiting for an answer, he guided himself to your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.

The first slow thrust of his hips had you gasping, your body clenching around him as he stretched you open, filling you completely. The sensation of him inside you was both overwhelming and intoxicating, making you ache with the need for more.

"Yes, I’m yours," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, but Aizawa heard it, and the satisfied, almost possessive smile that tugged at his lips sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

He moved slowly at first, his pace measured, almost methodical as he watched you—taking in every reaction, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips. His hands rested on your hips, his fingers pressing firmly as he guided your movements, pulling you closer with each deep thrust.

The pace grew faster, more urgent as your body began to respond in kind, meeting his movements with increasing fervor. The pleasure was building inside you, that slow, tight coil winding tighter with every roll of his hips, every stroke that had you clinging to him.

"You’re doing so well," Aizawa murmured, his voice thick with admiration and lust. "So good for me, kitten."

His words sent a shudder through you, the weight of his praise, the way he spoke to you—like you were everything to him, and you were willing to give him all of you. His pace quickened, his fingers digging into your skin as he brought you closer to the edge, the pressure building inside you.

You gasped as your orgasm approached, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you arched against him, your body trembling. "Shouta... I—" You couldn’t finish, the words lost in the rush of pleasure that was quickly consuming you.

"Come for me, kitten," he growled, his grip tightening as he drove deeper into you, faster now, faster, until your mind went blank, and you felt the wave of release crash over you like a storm, leaving you breathless and moaning his name.

Aizawa groaned as your body tightened around him, and he grew in speed like a man possessed. Your body lurched in response, flinging your head into his broad shoulder and pulling off of him slightly in the process. With a deep growl he grabbed roughly at the back base of your neck and pulled you back down onto the mattress, pistoning into you at a deathly tantalizing speed. Reaching down with his spare hand he pinched your clit once before using his index to move rapidly across it.

You hadn't even come off your first high before Shouta had thrown you into another one. In a few hard, controlled thrusts, he followed you over the edge, his own release flooding inside you as he collapsed against your chest, breathing heavily.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you wrapped in the warmth of the other, the shared intimacy of the moment hanging in the air between you. Aizawa’s breathing slowed, his body relaxing against yours as he pulled you closer, his hand gently resting on your choker, as if ensuring it was still in place.

"Good girl," he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft, lingering kiss. "Such a good kitten."

You smiled softly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release, but the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his breath, made you feel safe, secure, and cherished. You were his, and he was yours.

And that was enough.

You felt his gaze trace the lines of your body, lingering on your flushed skin. There was something about the way he looked at you—an intensity, a need to claim but also care for.

Aizawa was never one to rush, especially when it came to you. There was a methodical slowness to how he touched you, how he approached every new moment, but now, you saw something else—an almost predatory precision in his movements. He was studying every inch of you, and it wasn’t about control anymore. It was about devotion.

He leaned down, his lips brushing lightly against the curve of your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel him exhale against your sensitive flesh, the soft touch of his lips enough to make your skin tingle. You shuddered, instinctively leaning into the touch, a quiet sigh escaping your lips.

Aizawa’s hand slipped down from your waist, tracing the shape of your thigh, before he looked up at you, his voice rough but gentle. “You’re still so perfect,” he muttered, the words sending a jolt through your chest.

You watched him closely as he moved down your body, his gaze never leaving yours, studying your reactions. He leaned in closer, placing a soft, lingering kiss along the inside of your thigh. You couldn’t help but tense in anticipation. It was a tender gesture, but there was a hunger to it—a sense of needing to taste, to touch, to claim. His mouth lingered on your skin, savoring the feel of you against his lips.

He was meticulous—his lips brushing over your skin, as though he were memorizing every inch of you. Then, as if it were a natural instinct, his lips parted, and he pressed a soft kiss closer to where your pulse beat furiously under your skin. You moaned softly, your body reacting to the gentle pressure of his lips.

Aizawa didn’t speak, but you felt the shift in him—a deep, wordless understanding. He knew what he wanted, and now, his mouth trailed lower, the heat of his breath warming your sensitive skin. His lips moved with purpose, pressing sweet, firm kisses against the inside of your thighs. He took his time, slowly building the tension, enjoying the act of loving you.

When his lips finally touched the sensitive nerves at the apex of your thighs, your breath hitched. He paused there, just for a moment, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, as if asking for permission—asking if this was what you wanted. There was no hesitation in your response, no words needed; your body leaned into his touch, craving more of him.

With a low, approving murmur, Aizawa dipped his head down, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path across your folds. The sensation was soft, almost reverent, the pressure of his mouth more intense with each pass. His movements were patient, controlled, but there was also an edge of hunger there, an insatiable need to taste more of you, to explore the parts of you he hadn’t yet claimed.

His lips were firm, but the way he used his tongue—slow, languid strokes—had you gasping, your hands gripping the sheets as your head fell back, overwhelmed by the feeling of him worshipping you with each tender kiss. He was savoring you, as though he couldn’t get enough of the way you responded to him.

You whimpered softly, your fingers threading through his disheveled hair, guiding him closer, but Aizawa pulled back slightly, his breath coming in shallow bursts. His dark eyes, filled with desire, met yours once again. The bell rings softly as you tilt your head down to see him.

“I want to hear you,” he said, his voice rough with an undercurrent of desire. “I want you to let me know how much you like it.”

You gasped, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You couldn’t help but obey. “I-I like it, Shouta,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the raw need inside you.

He smiled faintly, the curve of his lips almost imperceptible, but the way his eyes softened told you all you needed to know. “Good girl,” he whispered against your skin, before diving back in.

His mouth continued its slow, purposeful dance, his tongue teasing and tasting you, every stroke drawing out more sounds, more reactions from you.

As the moments stretched on, your body became a tangle of sensations, the pleasure building in slow waves, crashing over you with every stroke. And through it all, Aizawa never hurried. His touch was steady, his devotion to your pleasure evident in every deliberate action that drove you crazy.

"You're so responsive," he whispered, his voice a low, intimate growl that made your entire body shiver. His hands slid higher, resting on your hips, grounding you as he moved, his lips barely brushing the sensitive skin at the edge of your inner thigh. His dark eyes were filled with a hunger you had never seen before, but there was also something deeper—an unspoken affection, a care that made your heart race.

You were breathing heavily now, your pulse quickening, as his mouth continued its careful, tantalizing exploration. His tongue traced slow, teasing lines across the delicate skin, the heat of his touch making your skin feel like it was burning, and you couldn’t help but writhe beneath him, your body craving more.

"Shouta... please," you gasped, your hands tangled in his disheveled hair, pulling him closer.

Aizawa looked up at you, his expression dark and possessive, but there was also something gentler in his gaze. He seemed to be studying you, watching the way your body reacted to his every touch. "Begging already?" he asked, his voice rough with desire, but there was a teasing edge to it.

The heat in your core surged, and you could feel a soft pressure building, as though your body were being pulled toward something that was just out of reach. You wanted to answer him, to give him the response he was clearly waiting for, but all you could do was nod, your fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to steady your breath.

"I want to feel you," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I need you, Shouta."

He let out a low, approving sound as his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as his lips continued to trace the curve of your inner thigh. He moved deliberately, his tongue gliding in soft, teasing strokes, making you squirm beneath him, your entire body on fire. His touch was slow, but there was no mistaking the demand in his movements.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice low and rough, the words a dark promise that made your skin prickle with heat. "You’re mine to take care of, to please."

His words, his tone, were a mixture of praise and dominance, and it only made the pressure inside you grow stronger. You felt that familiar tightness coil, as though you were on the verge of breaking apart, but you didn’t want it to end. You wanted more—more of him, more of this slow, exquisite torture.

"You’re doing so well," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. His lips brushed against your skin before he took a slow, deliberate taste, his tongue teasing in gentle, circular motions.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the pressure inside you finally snapped, a wave of pleasure surging through you, and you cried out, the sound echoing through the room. Aizawa didn’t let up, though. He kept his movements steady, his mouth working you through your release, his fingers digging into your hips, grounding you as your body convulsed with pleasure.

When the wave of sensations passed, and you were left breathless beneath him, Aizawa pulled back just enough to look at you, his face dark with satisfaction. His lips were glistening, but there was something almost playful in his expression as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You look incredible," he whispered, his hand sliding up your side, his touch warm and possessive. "But I’m far from finished with you."

His words sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through you, and without another word, Aizawa leaned down to kiss you—slow, deep, and possessive. The taste of you lingered on his lips, mixing with his need, and it only made you crave more. His hands roamed over your body, exploring the newly exposed skin, his touch firm and guiding.

"You’re mine tonight," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with desire. "And I’m going to make sure you remember it."

Every brush of his lips, every caress of his hands, he moved with precision, his control never faltering, but you could sense the growing desperation beneath the surface, the need for release that mirrored your own.

Aizawa’s kisses grew more insistent, his hands wandering, taking their time to explore, as though he were rediscovering every inch of you. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, and you let yourself melt into his touch, surrendering to the slow, building wave of passion that took over you both.

He leaned back slightly, his eyes dark, filled with a possessive hunger that only grew as he watched you. "I want to feel every part of you," he murmured, the words dripping with desire.

The exhaustion seeped into you rapidly, as your eyes fluttered shut.

God I feel so good.

Aizawa pulled back slowly, his breathing still heavy but steadying, his dark eyes searching your face for something, any sign of discomfort. His hand rested gently on your hip, his thumb stroking small, soothing circles into your skin.

You were both quiet for a few moments, just basking in the aftermath, the silence comforting as your bodies adjusted to the peaceful calm that followed. You could feel the tenderness in the way Aizawa touched you, as if he was trying to ground you, to reassure you that everything was okay.

He shifted beside you, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest. His hand moved up to gently brush the hair from your face, his touch slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the way you felt in this moment.

“You’re okay,” he murmured softly, his voice low but full of concern. He could feel your breath still uneven, your pulse racing beneath his fingertips. “Breathe, just like that. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, feeling the softness of his voice wrap around you like a protective blanket. The connection between you two felt stronger now, the raw intensity of the moment replaced by an overwhelming sense of comfort.

His other hand, warm and calloused, slid up to your shoulder, gently squeezing as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You let your eyes flutter shut once more, your body relaxing into his warmth, the tenderness of it all washing over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft and vulnerable.

Aizawa's breath hitched slightly at the sincerity in your words, and he pulled you in a little closer, as if needing to feel you against him, to make sure you were really there, really okay. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, almost as though he was savoring the scent of you—the aftermath, the peace that now filled the space where there had been only fire moments before.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he whispered. His hand moved from your shoulder to your side, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”

The quiet weight of his words made your heart swell. You could feel the love behind them, and the care, the desire to keep you safe and cherished.

You shifted slightly, pressing your cheek against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart lull you into further relaxation. His hand rested on your back, a comforting pressure that grounded you in the moment.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, his voice like a soothing balm, each word brushing over you like a kiss. “Let me take care of you now.”

And so he did. His movements were slow and careful as he tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear and kissed your forehead. His hands stroked gently over your body, a way of reaffirming his presence, of showing you that he was there and that you were safe and cherished.

After a few minutes, Aizawa reached over and grabbed a soft blanket, pulling it over both of you. He shifted slightly so you could settle against him more comfortably, his arm draping over your waist. You fit perfectly in his embrace, as though you belonged there.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his voice now quieter, more intimate. “Get some rest,” he whispered. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. You’re safe, I promise.”

You nodded, your eyelids heavy, the exhaustion from the intense connection weighing you down. You felt safe in his arms, the warmth of his body a shield against the world outside.

As you began to drift off, Aizawa’s hand remained gently resting on your side, his breathing slow and steady, matching yours. The rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear was a lullaby, a reminder that no matter what, he would always be there.

The last thing you remembered before sleep took you was the feel of his lips on your forehead, whispering softly, “I love you.”

And in that moment, you knew that you were truly home.

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aheckinmess · 4 months ago

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Stormy Salsa [Aizawa] (Fluff)

(One-shot 19/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Shouta Aizawa, Shota Aizawa, Pro Hero Eraserhead, Aizawa x OC, Eraserhead x OC, Original Female Character(s), Ichijiku Aoki, Aizawa is a Sweetheart, Aizawa is a Good Significant Other, A Rainy Evening, Also There's a Cat Involved, Dancing in the Living Room, Nursing a Headache, All the Little Intricacies of Everday Life

Word Count: 1,000 words

Summary: Ichijiku, feeling whimsical, pulls Shouta into a dance in the living room after nursing a headache.

Ichijiku (Tigress)

“Shouta, can you hand me the ice pack?” I groan, rubbing my temples. “This headache is killer.”

“Okay, Kitten, do you need the essential oils too?” He asks, rummaging in the freezer and wrapping it in a towel. The moment he sets it against my head, my muscles relax under the balm of the frigid relief it provides.

“That might help, yes.”

Some essential oils, the ice pack, and one nap later brings a clearer, less painful mind. The couch groans with me as I sit up to the sound of falling rain. Despite having just woken up, the gentle pitter patter against the roof lulls my eyes closed again until an orange blob nudges me awake.

“You feeling better, Kitten?” Shouta’s blurry visage draws closer until I put on my glasses. The orange blob turns out to be Cloud.

“Is it raining?” I yawn, stretching high with a wince at the ache in my neck. Cloud nuzzles against my hand and purrs when I give him the affection he so desperately desires.

“It started up about half an hour ago.” He chuckles as he tucks my hair behind my ear. “You dozed pretty well. Do you feel better?”

I nod and heave a sigh as I lean into his hand.

“Did I snore?” I ask.

“Nothing loud, but yes. You whimpered a bit and I worried you were having a nightmare, but you settled quickly.” He kisses my forehead.

“Mmph, I don’t remember any dreams.”

“Good to know.” He combs his fingers through my hair. “Are you hungry?”

“I think I’m okay right now.” Another yawn and I make grabby hands at him. “Cuddles?”

He chuckles and instead of joining me on the couch like a normal person, he flops right on top of me. His heavy weight against me soothes the tired aches of everyday living as his brand of playfulness reminds me of life’s simple joys. I only hope I can provide him some of the same relief.

“Oof! Hey!” I laugh, tickling the back of his neck.

“Gah!” He scrunches his neck and wriggles back momentarily before his fingers find my sides in retribution.

I lose the tickle war the second he touches me. My body twists violently as a shriek tears past my lips. Wiggling fingers flutter up my sides like butterfly wings, causing my laughter to echo through the house while I suffer for the sake of allowing him his fun for now.

“Shouta Aizawa! You traitor!” I squawk, lurching up on the couch and leaping away. Unfortunately, his reflexes prove inhumanly quick and there’s no doubting the strength of his muscles as he keeps me in place. “Nooo, Shoutaaaa! Stooopp!” I whine.

“Why would I do that when I get to hear your sweet laughter?” He teases, getting my weak spot behind my knee.

I cringe and try to squeeze myself off the couch as my body contorts involuntarily. I slump off the couch as intended, but Shouta slides off right after me, pinning me to the ground and continuing his tickle assault before he finally stops to kiss my forehead. While I catch my breath, he presses his forehead to mine and smiles at me.

“You know I love you, right?” He coos, stroking my cheek.

“Yes, I know.” I huff, scrunching my nose at him before leaning into his hand. “I love you too. Why else would I let you tickle me?”

“I’m glad.” He says, before tickling my ear and the back of my neck and sending my back arching straight up. He moves just in time to keep my head from bumping his. “You love me enough to put up with this?” He taunts.

“I’d rather you didn’t but yeeeaaahhhhahaahahahahaha!” I dissolve into laughter.

When he finally relents, it takes me a few minutes to compose myself. My sides cramp by the time I’m done, but I still wrap my arms around him for a tight hug when the giggles fade.

“Shouta, will you dance with me?”

“Dancing? In the living room?” He strokes my cheek. “I guess that can be arranged. What kind of dance?”

“Nothing fancy. Just a simple waltz or sway…so long as it’s with you.”

He stands and takes my waist and hand, effortlessly twirling me around as I rest my head against his chest. His heartbeat coaxes me around the floor with him. Normally, dancing would make me feel self-conscious, but Shouta makes me feel safe enough to indulge.

Only a few minutes into our dance, the sound of pouring rain echoes through the house much louder than moments ago. Distant thunder urges me to pull him towards the back patio, where we sway gently and watch the summer storm in companionable silence.

At least until I smirk up at him with a crazy idea.

“Come on,” I tug his hand and open the door, stepping out into the rain and immediately getting soaked. “Let’s dance out here!”

“What are you…” He watches me step out and blinks slowly. He crosses his arms and shakes his head. “We can’t do that here.”

“Sure we can!” I lean my head back and twirl in circles. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“You’ll have to excuse me, I believe it’s still inside with the cats.”

“Pretty pleeeaaase, Shouta-kun?” I look up at him with my most potent pair of kitten eyes.

He drops his arms to the side with a heavy groan. He pauses long enough that I think he’s going to dismiss me as insane and stay inside. But suddenly, he huffs and rushes out to scoop me in his arms and spin around with me cradled against him. I look up at him with a vibrant smile.

“Hey, Shouta?”

“Hm?”

“You know I love you, right?”

“...occasions like this sometimes bring it into question.” He winks, before setting me down and resuming our waltzing position. “But yes, I do.”

“Enough to dance with me in the rain?”

“Enough to dance with you in the rain.”

Want more Aizawa? Try: Movie Magic - The Tiger Tango