#when Hizashi realises that Shouta actually loves him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shibaraki · 2 years

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LAP CAT ┊ AIZAWA SHOUTA

synopsis: you never thought you’d be the type of person to own a hybrid, but after learning his odds of adoption are low due to his age, you can’t just leave Shouta behind.

tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, hybrid au (half animal half human), cat hybrid aizawa (NOT A/B/O), animal transformations (shifting between cat and human), brief look into the politics of hybrids (we like autonomy in this house folks, but I'll say dubcon just in case), animal characteristics (behavioural and physical), fluff and smut, brief voyeurism, male masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, roommates(?) to lovers, brief mentions of child abuse (reader is a child therapist)

wc: 7.8k

“You’re nervous”.

The restless bounce of your knee comes to a standstill as you turn to Hizashi with a withered glare and a sarcastic comment ready on your tongue. You breathe through it deeply, picturing the expansion of your lungs, ballooning and pushing out the anxiety in your chest.

After two weeks of ruminating, plus an additional week of preparation, you were finally taking your adopted hybrid home.

You’d first happened upon a picture of him whilst donating some old clothes to the hybrid centre. It had been pinned to the board in the reception area, hung above it was a plaque that read ‘our grumpiest resident’. He looked big, upper lip pulled into a scowl and a faint scar along his cheek where no hair had grown back. At first glance he was easily mistaken as a typical feline, but the disarming humanity reflected in his eyes had given you pause.

Shouta. A Norwegian forest cat hybrid. Below it was a bullet-pointed checklist showing that he was actively looking for adoption and held the ability to shift, the final line stating that he was adept at communicating with human speech.

Hybrids that could fully shift were incredibly rare. Their origins dated back thousands of years, and extensive research had uncovered a very clear spectrum that each individual hybrid sat on. Some appeared completely human, any trace of their animal characteristics diluted through time and they were typically unable to shift at all. Some only carried behavioural traits. Others were clearly — visibly — a hybrid. Non-human ears, tails and fangs, claws and talons. But a complete transformation was still highly uncommon, even in those cases.

Given the statistics, people often came across animals not knowing they were hybrids at all. The realisation had been slow for you, too, only truly clicking in your mind when your gaze fell upon the short bio beneath his picture.

He’d piqued your interest, and after asking the receptionist if she knew anything more about him, she’d smiled tightly as if the topic made her uncomfortable. “Shouta has been here for six years. He’s our longest resident,” was her answer.

At its core, the centre was largely a refuge for hybrids. A majority of them lived independently and didn’t want to be someone’s house pet. You too felt that adopting them was an outdated practice — they weren’t actually animals. But they were legally deemed as such, consequently being unable to live alone, rent or even find employment.

Despite it all, there were still hybrids that would advertise when seeking a family, and Shouta clearly wanted out of there. Six years was a long time to wait.

“If you have it, I’d like his full profile”.

Aizawa Shouta, long haired and bushy tailed. It stated he had no history of violence or aggression, though he was prone to scratching if startled, and carried a mild temperament. Whoever had written the biography clearly knew and loved him, detailing about the cat's odd dry sense of humour and general pickiness. He was good with children and other hybrids but preferred his own space, was not one to damage property when bored or frustrated, and experienced short bouts of heat throughout the months of September to March which had placated with age.

Speaking of age — Shouta was thirty years old.

The receptionist, Kayama you recall, had once again grimaced while you’d read through that section of the file, as if she were bracing herself for something, relaxing only when you’d turned the page.

After your donated clothes had been taken, the large bag long waiting rumpled at your feet, you’d left empty handed. Shouta weighed heavily on your mind, and your heart, for the entirety of the month that followed.

So now you were back. Just as you remembered, everything about the room felt impersonal, almost clinical. You find the colour white wherever you look, from the floor to the ceilings, cool air blowing in from the vents even after the summer had been long gone.

Hizashi, a close friend and occasional volunteer at the centre, had kindly helped you through the process. It was thanks to him that not only was your paperwork fast tracked, but your home had been completely approved by an inspector. Now there was a spare room in your apartment, ready and awaiting its new occupant, stocked with various necessities for both a human and a cat.

You’d been forewarned that Shouta didn’t like shifting into his human form, not anymore. There was a sense of safety, and solace, in being a simple cat. You were honest enough to admit that you’d longed for such an ability yourself – exhausted in the middle of your work day, wishing you could be reborn as an animal without responsibility.

But that wasn’t the only reason. According to staff, Shouta’s age had been his biggest enemy when it came to adoption, which explained Kayama’s previous apprehension of you. People and families alike; they wanted young hybrids. The younger the better, especially if it meant having someone for their children to grow up with. Shouta however, was a fully grown adult man, and apparently an intimidating one at that.

So you understood his refusal. He was used to disappointment, and no longer trusted those who approached him with interest. But you sought to prove him wrong. Whether he lived out his days as a regular house cat, or eventually decided to live alongside you in human form, you didn’t care.

You just wanted him to have a home.

“You’ll be fine, you do know that, right?” Hizashi’s voice cuts through your line of thought, gently bumping his shoulder against your own in comfort, “you’ve prepared well for this. Trust yourself”.

“It isn’t as easy as that,” you murmur, wringing your hands together tightly in your lap, nails harsh where they sink into sink, “adopting a normal cat is a big commitment. This is a person we’re talking about–”

“–and that’s why you’re going to be good for him,” he interrupts gently, “you see him as a human being, you care about his happiness and his autonomy. It’s literally your job to understand people. Those intentions will shine through”.

You hum in acknowledgement, accepting that arguing with him would be fruitless. It’s in that moment that a staff member rounds the corner into the foyer, upper body turned slightly to look back down the corridor he had just emerged from.

“Come on Shouta,” he pleads, clearly exasperated. After a few tense moments, felt with bated breath, the cat hybrid follows the handler out into the open. His appearance startles you to your feet, a twisted mass of excitement and nerves swelling in your throat.

Shouta regards you thoughtfully from behind the man's legs as you approach, the distrust plainly reflected in his glare, lowered tail flitting back and forth. He’s much bigger in person, you think, and not just because of his voluminous coat.

Shouta cocks his head as if to ask ‘well, what’re you here for?’ and while you hadn’t necessarily hoped it’d be the case, it's obvious that he is not going to take his human form for this conversation.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Shouta. If it’s alright I’d like to take you home with me today”.

His ear twitches at the mention of his name, pupils thin and suspicious as he slowly appraises you. The irony of now wanting to be chosen by him doesn’t escape you, not after all his years of being overlooked.

“I’m happy for you to stay in whatever form is most comfortable, I won’t mind. I work every day and can sometimes be sent out on house calls but—” your eyes flicker to the handler as you lower yourself to the ground, searching for some semblance of encouragement, before turning back to the feline “—you’ll have space for yourself and the freedom to do as you like, I’m not too fussy as long as everything stays clean”.

You stumbled over the words, but all you can hope is that your sincerity reaches him. The silence is… contemplative. Not awkward, but tense in an anticipatory way. Shouta’s pupils begin to dilate as they glance over to Hizashi and then to the automatic sliding doors, taking up the entirety of his eye with what you assume is alarm.

You rise to stand with a stiff nod, accepting his caution with a smile pulling tight against your cheeks. It’s then that you feel something rub along the back of your calves. The handler makes a small sound of surprise when Shouta curls himself around your legs, tail circling loosely around your ankle as he peers up at you expectantly.

“Is that… a yes?” you ask. He softly butts his head into your shin.

It’s a yes.

Relief can be just as overwhelming as fear, you find. It washes through you, almost thrown off balance by the sudden weightlessness in your chest. Shouta follows obediently by your feet, refusing both your own offer to hold him and the carrier that Hizashi suggested with an indignant scowl, much like the one photographed for the public pinboard.

As much as a cat could look indignant, atleast.

Hizashi had been the one to drive you that morning, and you silently sent thanks to your past self for the forethought. Shouta appears to be much more at ease with you sitting beside him in the backseat, curled into himself atop a soft blanket that you’d laid out with him in mind.

The journey home is agonisingly long, most of which can be attributed to Hizashi’s insistence on taking it slow, as not to startle Shouta. The cat himself remains unperturbed, eyes only opening to wordlessly glare about the vehicle’s back and forth rock over a speed bump. Despite the disinterest, you continue to tell him about all the things you’d set up for him at home. You reassure him of his own space and of the food you’d bought for him to choose from, looking in his direction every so often only to find him in the same position, breathing gently.

To your pleasant surprise, Shouta settles into your home far quicker than expected. While most cat hybrids were notorious for their cautiousness, oftentimes taking a few weeks to truly feel safe in a new home, yours immediately claimed his spot on the sofa and didn’t move for hours as he slept.

You weren’t sure when, or if, he would shift back. So you pulled an old word card deck from your desk that you would use with non-verbal children to give him the chance to properly communicate. With some old tape found tucked away in your kitchen drawer of trinkets, you stuck them up along the wall of the living room. He’d purred into your hand for the first time that evening as you mulled over his profile once more.

It was fairly common knowledge that people preferred their hybrids to be cute, small and playful, and according to what the file detailed about Shouta he did not fit the bill. It was unfortunate but unsurprising to you that he had been in the centre for so long.

You curl your finger behind his ear, an endeared smile on your lips. He’s fine just as he is, you think.

Your persistence and willingness to adapt to his animal form must’ve broken the ice, evident in the slow reveal of his personality to you as time moved on. During the first month you find that he’s far more affectionate than anticipated, opting to spend most of his time tucked under your arm while you are home. He’s undeniably fond of butting the soft parts of your body for attention and adamant about his disdain for cat toys, even after being caught playing with them.

More notably, though he had a room of his own you’d often wake up in the middle of the night to the slight dip of your mattress, Shouta shaping himself into the space between your legs.

It was becoming harder and harder for you to remember that he was not just a cat.

You quietly let yourself into the threshold of your home, dropping your keys into the decorative bowl kept on the shelf above the shoe rack. As you bend down to pull off your shoes, finger hooked into the back of the heel, your breath stills at the unmistakable groan reverberating throughout the apartment.

Your instinctive reaction to the sound is fear and alarm, and with hesitance you slowly peek around the corner of the entryway, a clear view into the open living room. Arousal twists shamefully in your stomach, the sounds around you becoming much sharper as your ears hone in on the wet slap of skin.

Your mind blanks. Shouta is lounging back into the couch cushions in his human form, head tipped over the arm of the sofa, pointed ears peeking from beneath his long unkempt hair. You had bought him clothes not long after bringing him home and while you’d never seen him in them, the discarded shirt is undoubtedly one you purchased, loose pants pushed haphazardly down to the middle of his thighs with a hand fisted tightly around his cock.

Just this morning he had been kneading your breasts happily, and with the stark reminder that he was indeed an adult man, the act no longer seemed as innocent as you thought.

He hasn’t noticed you yet. You tell yourself you’re being careful because you don’t want to startle him, that it’s innocent curiosity at seeing him for the first time, ignoring the familiar pulse between your own thighs. His chest rises with each breath, eyes squeezed shut with dark brows drawn together and his back arching as he presses his hips up. He looks frustrated, pink blotches scattered across his cheeks and chest, his cock painfully red.

He’s handsome. Rugged. Certainly not the cute-sy kitten type you would associate with a hybrid, he’s built and tall and—

You bite the inside of your cheek roughly when he groans, drawn out and rough in his throat, as he cums over his stomach. Shakily and lacking in grace you stumble back around the corner and into the front door, leaning your forehead against the cool wood.

Your thoughts are delayed, disjointed, and distantly you recall the research you’d done on male cat hybrid sexual aggression. It was natural, nothing more. He deserved that privacy. Exhaling heavily you wrap your hand around the door handle, opening it with an obvious click and shutting it again to give the illusion that you had just arrived home. The image of his trembling thighs flits across the forefront of your mind and you shoo it away hastily with guilt.

“I’m home,” you call out, wincing at the quiver in your voice, giving him time to collect himself. When you step out from the entryway he’s gone and so are the clothes. A plaintive yowl sounds from the hallway leading to your bedrooms, and Shouta rounds the corner in his cat form, his gaze sharp and inquisitive as he approaches you.

He couldn’t have known, you tell yourself, your smile tight and forced. He blinks and watches you disappear into the bathroom for a decidedly cold shower.

Nerves alight beneath the sharp spray, you recall all the firm kisses to the top of his head, the press of your nose to his own, the way you’d cradled him in your arms. Embarrassment flushes through you, a stark contrast to the water nipping at your shoulders.

He couldn’t have known.

Much to your relief, the days that follow show no sign of changing. You’d built a routine together unknowingly, and it had stuck. You did sometimes find men's clothes in your laundry that Shouta had clearly worn around the house in your absence, proof that he was starting to become comfortable shifting back, but you never saw him do so again.

The image of his broad, heaving chest flits through your mind, and you press your thumbs into your eyes in an attempt to mentally push it back. You had bigger things to worry about than your attractive roommate.

The glass of wine in your hand feels much heavier than usual as your eyes read over the file before you, absorbing absolutely none of it, only cataloguing the images of the small girl that had been pulled from her abusive home. She was covered in bandages from head to toe, traumatised and timid, unable to even look at the camera lense.

Shouta slips under your arms with ease, a persistent and welcome habit of his, settling into the narrow space at the centre of your crossed legs. A few moments pass, and when you don’t immediately tend to him he pushes his nose into the underside of your jaw to garner your attention.

“What is it?” you mumble, meeting his gaze and seeing the question behind his eyes. He sits back on his haunches and reaches a large black paw out to touch one of the more graphic pictures the hospital had taken for the little girl's casefile.

You recall then that Shouta was supposedly good with children, and that he had been favoured by a number of young hybrids at the centre during his time there. It was entirely possible that he was worried for her.

“I suppose I never did tell you what I do for a living, did I?” you say, more to yourself than to him. Most conversation with Shouta was undoubtedly one sided, and usually consisted of you rambling nonsense while he pretended to listen.

“I’m a licensed child therapist. And her name is Eri,” you tell him, your index finger joining his paw above the photo, feeling a touch sober after having read the details even with the wine in your system.

“I’m meeting with her for the first time tomorrow for an evaluation,” you explain, “let's just hope I can help her”. Somewhere behind his eyes something changes, shadowed with emotion and sombre. He presses the weight of his body against your chest and deepens his purrs, the vibration passing through your body and grounding you.

You hum thoughtfully, almost as if you were purring yourself. “You’d make a good therapy companion,” you muse, scratching the sweet spot behind his ear in thanks. You feel the small curve of his jaw against your collar as he peers up at you with interest.

“You like the sound of that?”

He exhales heavily, exasperated, like the answer should be obvious. It doesn’t hold the same effect as it might if he were a man, only creating a mildly aggressive buzz beneath your skin that gave you the urge to squeeze him tightly.

Eventually you head to bed, roommate close by your ankles and weaving between your feet, tail lifting to hook around your left calf as he did most nights. Throughout the first two weeks Shouta would still always attempt to sleep in his own room, or at least he pretended to, before joining you on your mattress.

Now he was happy to be more blatant about it, and his company had quickly become of great comfort to you.

It was all you could look forward to as you arrived home from work the following day. As if the atmosphere picked up on your inner turmoil, the heavens opened and it poured with rain, harsh droplets spitting against the car windows. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting in your parking space, breathing stuttered and cheeks wet, you caught sight of yourself in the rear-view mirror. Withered, you think.

Eri was a sweet little girl, but in all the wrong ways. Considerate, only for fear she would unknowingly do something wrong. Polite and quiet, but only so she did not say anything that would upset you. She recounted the horrors she’d had to endure as if it were entirely justified, promising to take responsibility for her guardians actions, because it had been her fault for misbehaving.

You had worked with many children like her, and you’d had to attend numerous court hearings, but this one in particular had struck a chord with you. Keeping your expression warm and empathetic had taken an exhausting amount of effort.

You blink away another swell of tears, grimacing at the soreness in your eyes and the sting in your sinuses. The thrum of the rain grows louder as you open the car door, keys in one hand, the other already dampening under the spray. With a deep inhale, you step out into the storm and prepare to run.

By the time you reach the apartment you’re already forty minutes late and sodden. A spark of anger flickers in your chest at the way your clothing clings uncomfortably to your skin, but it is soon smothered as you step into the entryway. You’re immediately swaddled by a welcoming warmth and the familiar smell of laundry detergent, shoes squeaking awkwardly as you toe them off into the corner.

It's too quiet.

“Shouta?”

You call out to him, worried that you might interrupt another private moment, and it echoes throughout the hallway. Odd. You’re drawn further into the apartment as you hear a dull thud from the bathroom, calling out to him again cautiously. Your eyes fall upon a clumsily folded pile of clothes atop your dining table, recently washed and dried.

“Where have you been?”

A low, rough voice cuts through the quiet and startles you, hastily turning on your feet and hand reaching for anything nearby that might serve as a weapon.

A man emerges from the doorway to your bathroom. He’s tall, draped in shadows, and it isn’t until he steps forward into the light of the living room that you realise it’s him.

It’s Shouta, in his human form, betrayed only by the pointed ears atop his head. Willingly human. His movements are hesitant, eyes curtained by his hair and hastily flickering back and forth across your expression in search of something. Anger, maybe. Or discomfort.

Your lips part to answer him, to say anything, but the words don’t come.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No! No, of course not,” you wince as you trip over the words, unconvincing even in your own mind. He hums like he doesn’t believe you, an attractive glimmer of amusement in his eyes, the sleeves on his loose black shirt rolled up into the crook of his arms.

“It was just… unexpected. I’m surprised, and a little embarrassed, but not uncomfortable!”

“Embarrassed?” he gently interrupts, head cocking slightly to the side in question, the length of his hair curving with the tilt. The gesture is one you’d seen many times before, so endearing and cat-like that you feel yourself fighting a smile.

“Of course it’s embarrassing, Shouta. All those times I would carry you around like a baby, rub my nose against you and—”

“—blink really slowly as if it’s supposed to mean anything to me,” he snorted lightly, ears twitching, “it was cute”.

Something akin to giddiness settles under your skin, and you feel your fingers curl into fists to stave off the restlessness. Part of you wants to bounce on the balls of your feet, soaking up the small fond smile that pulls at his lips. You’re reminded again of how awfully handsome he is, memories of his bare chest and stuttering hips flashing unbidden through your mind.

You ached to reach for him. But there were too many unknown outcomes to that, many of which you didn’t want to deal with. Even with the knowledge that he was still your cat, touching him so affectionately would mean something more now that he was a man.

“Thank you,” you tell him as you lower your head minutely, words a little thick with emotion, “for trusting me with this”.

Broad shoulders hunched slightly forward, Shouta tucks his chin towards his sternum as he awkwardly shifts the weight between his legs. “You were late. I thought something might’ve happened,” he says.

He’d been worried about you.

“I’m sorry, Shouta. I was…” you pause to inhale deeply, eyelids gently falling shut for a moment, opening as you continue to speak, “I needed some time to collect myself, is all. I should’ve been more considerate of you”.

The silence that follows is thoughtful, comforting. Shouta finally approaches you, expression softened and cat-like pupils thinning under the light of the living room. The soft hair on your arms stand on end, the dipole between your bodies strengthening the closer he gets, a weightless sensation washing through your stomach.

“I prepared a bath for you,” he murmurs, averting his gaze behind the safety of his hair, “I know you like them when you’re stressed. I pulled the cover across so it should still be warm”.

Your lips part in surprise, remembering the freshly washed clothes folded atop the counter, and how the apartment had smelt strongly of your lavender bath salt.

“And the laundry?”

He nods shortly, a little unsettled by the focus on his thoughtful actions, and so rather than lingering you move around him to enter the bathroom.

“Thank you, Shouta. I’ll be sure to enjoy it,” you smile genuinely, softened like wax over a flame. He had brought far more warmth to your life than you initially expected, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

The tiles are cool beneath your feet even as you are slightly quivering from the rain, steam from the heated water clouding the mirrors, yet Shouta’s presence is far hotter. His magnetism doesn’t dissipate, it only intensifies once he begins to fall in line with your footsteps, following behind you.

As you turn to address him he moves closer, giving you no choice but to lean back against the tiled wall, crowded in the small space. Heart quickening and engaged in your ribs like a little hummingbird.

“Shouta,” is all you can bring yourself to say, the scolding tone in your voice shaken, flimsy. His ears flicker at the sound of his name. Under the yellow tinted light of the bathroom you can closely see the scruff shadowing his jaw, the acute dip of a cupid's bow in his upper lip, the flecks of silver in his irises.

“You can’t be in here with me while I bathe,” your hands press against him, feeling the heat of his body beneath the thin fabric, “I promise I won’t take long”.

“Why?” he rasps, reverberating under the pads of your fingers, “because now I’m a man?”

From a moral standpoint, being intimate with a hybrid was a grey area. Despite his humanity, he’s legally classed as a pet, and you his owner. There was a very clear imbalance in power and authority.

And yet here —back pressed to the wall, palms laid flat to his chest but making no effort to push— it felt like you held no power at all. He ducks his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling his mouth to your pulse, feeling the protrusion of his canines through his upper lip.

“I won’t look if that’s what bothers you,” he continues lowly, “I want to stay. I want you to tell me about your day like you always do”.

It wouldn’t be fair to treat him differently based on his form, to avoid or change his routine simply because you were ashamed of your attraction to him. In doing so you would just be repeating the actions of everyone in his past, you rationalise.

His throat bobs as he swallows, waiting patiently for your answer. You remember how his head had tilted back in pleasure, how he’d sank into the couch cushions as he came.

There needed to be boundaries. There had to be a clear line, more for yourself than for him, to maintain the peace you’d built together.

“Alright, but I’m pulling the shower curtain across,” you assent, noting the relieved sag of his shoulders and how easily he moves away from you. It was as if he’d know the effect he has on you and used it to his advantage.

True to his word, Shouta turns his back once you begin to undress, though it does nothing to settle the shame-dipped excitement in your chest. You keep your eyes on him even as you lean down to pull back the bath cover, inhaling the scent of lavender, coasting the tips of your fingers through the surface of the water.

You’re helpless to hold in the groan of relief that falls from your lips as the water ripples against your shoulders, the level rising slightly to accommodate your body. You almost forget to pull the curtain across, lazy as you tug and the hooks getting caught along the divots in the pole.

Completely covered, you give Shouta permission to turn back around. The sheet is pale, light enough to make out the shape of his silhouette as he seats himself on the floor facing the tub.

You clear your throat, the sound echoing intrusively throughout the room. His inability to see you does nothing to ease your nerves.

“Eri, the young girl I showed you last night,” when you were curled against my breast, “she responded to me better than I hoped. Her previous guardians are in police custody, and she’s going to be placed under protection”.

You hear his harsh exhale. “They hurt her,” he says.

The water laps against the edge of the tub as you begin to lather yourself with bodywash, smiling sadly behind the privacy of the shower curtain.

“Yes, they did. But she’s safe now and I’m going to help her the best I can”.

Over the waves, you hear his plaintive hum. The moment feels remarkably intimate, tendrils of steam dancing along your line of sight as you pull your knees to your chest, as if it would hide your vulnerability.

“There were kids at the centre who’d been hurt too,” he mutters with an obvious air of guilt, “I wish I could’ve helped them more”.

Without thinking, you pull back the waterproof sheet just enough to show your face. His ears are slightly drooped, gaze solemn as he meets yours.

“Your best is always enough, Shouta,” you press your breasts tightly to the side of the basin, wanting to be closer, wanting to embroider your words into his mind so he’d never doubt himself again.

“Whatever good you did for those children, I assure you they will remember it”.

You watch as his eyes widen, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatpants. He shakes the hair from his cheeks, revealing pale splotches of pink, and your stomach tightens.

Thinned pupils drag along the curve of your neck as a drop of water descends to your collar, reminding you of your own nakedness, and you quickly tug the curtain shut once more.

“I’ve seen you get undressed multiple times you know,” he says, “you don’t need to be ashamed”.

“Yes, as a cat!” you remind him, heat kindling between your thighs. He laughs. You want to hear it again and again. Eventually the sound tapers off into an amused rumbling, and you watch his silhouette shift from behind the sheet.

“Is that how you’d prefer me?” he asks, “as a cat, that is”.

Your brows pinch into a frown, hands cupped together to hold a small puddle of bath water in your palms, staring at the iridescent surface of the bubbles. Admittedly you’d gotten comfortable with him being a cat, enough to undress in the same room, but in the end they were one in the same. He was just Shouta — you wanted him to feel that same level of comfort, too.

“I know you’ve dealt with people judging you prematurely for your human form, and for your age, but…” your wrists part, and the water falls through your fingers, rippling throughout the tub.

“I care about you, Shouta, it doesn't matter if you're a cat or a man. This is your home too”.

The atmosphere is weighted, but comfortable, intimate. While he seems to be processing your words you continue to wash the rain from your skin, quietly recounting the rest of your day to him just as he’d asked.

If you held your breath and really listened, you could faintly hear him purring.

As you later parted ways to your respective rooms you can’t help but notice the tension in the air, nor the delayed lingering in the hallway before telling him ‘goodnight’. Yearning sits low in your belly, twisted tightly into a hot coil. You tell yourself that the hunger settling behind his eyes was just a figment of your imagination and cling to the small mercy that even after all your time with him, he had only ever joined you in bed in his cat form.

But then your door is being pushed ajar, the sound coaxing you awake, and Shouta stands tall in your bedroom doorway. Your sight adjusts quickly to the darkness, barely making out the anxious flick of his tail, or the way his hand tightens around the handle.

There’s a silent standoff in which each of you waits for the other to speak first, stubborn and a little nervous, until eventually your exhaustion simmers into irritation. You lift up the other side of the quilt, and he begins to move.

“You’re so spoiled,” you say, voice laden with sleep, mattress sinking under his weight. The cool air of your room is replaced by his warmth, laid on his side with an arm beneath the pillow as he faces you. You can’t see much, but he’s close — you feel his shallow exhale across your cheek, the way his muscles loosen and he relaxes into the sheets.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, low and fond as he reaches to trace the curve of your ear, “you have no one to blame but yourself”.

Your breathing hitches, stomach clenching at the unexpected touch. He clasps his thumb and forefinger around the shell, rubbing the cartilage gently, mimicking how you would pet his own ears.

“You’re clever, Shouta,” his touch pauses as you address him, “you’re clever. So I know you’re aware of what you’re doing right now”.

Of what it means.

He hums with acknowledgement. The massage starts again, soft circular motions, only for his hand to slide down to the curve of your neck to rest over your pulse point.

“You know too, and you’re still letting me,” he counters, a quiet and proud purr rumbling in the back of his chest. Behind the fabric of your bedroom curtains, a breeze guides the clouds east and the moon shines a little brighter. It reflects back at you in dark, feline eyes.

His tail grazes against your shin, curling around your leg, body shifting closer until your noses touch. And he waits for your rejection, time held in suspension, but you don’t shy away from him.

His lips are chaste and cautious on your cheek, as if he were dipping his feet into hot water to test the temperature. You hold the reins, you realise. He’s pausing, allowing the silence to reassure you that there would be an out, that he wouldn’t go any further without permission.

“You already said that I’m spoiled, but…” he tucks his nose further into the swell of your cheek and nuzzles down along the line of your jaw “…I still want more from you”.

Denying him would be to fight a battle you’d already lost. Before you’ve even processed his words you’ve tilted your chin to bare your throat, and he accepts, dragging the flat of his tongue across your skin. You moan, an inaudible exhale of his name, and the purring grows stronger — strong enough that you can feel it reverberate against your jugular.

While his hands wander the length of your body, pawing at the dip of your waist, yours thread into his hair to keep him in place. He shifts his hips impossibly close until they are cradled against your own with his hard cock nestled between your bodies. It’s hot, heavy through the fabric of his sweatpants, and you feel him throb against your stomach as you toy with his ears.

The reality of where this was leading washes over you, thighs rubbing together to instinctively dull the incessant ache between your legs.

“Shou… Shouta, we shouldn’t—”

“Then stop me,” he rasps, the words rough as he rolls his hips forward, “tell me to leave”.

Against better judgement you can’t help but to hold him closer, to wrap your arms around his neck and press yourself forward to give him better friction.

“Have you ever been with… with a…” your brows are taut with frustration as your voice fails you, his hand smoothing over your shorts to knead at your ass.

“A human?” his fingers dip further, lower, “does it matter?”.

You squirm away at his answer, and he chases you with a displeased growl. “Why? Are you jealous?” he asks, roughly hooking an arm under your knee to pull your thigh over his hip. Your bodies align, and he grinds forward, clothed cock pressing against your pussy.

“M’not jealous,” you lie, moving to match his rhythm. The reciprocation pleases him, the harsh defensive lines in his expression softening, jaw slack as he breathes through the pleasure. Heat ebbs through you with every pass of his cock over your clit, the fabric saturated with arousal and clinging to your skin.

“Kiss me”.

He blinks lazily, gaze unfocused, a glimmer of confusion in them. You wondered if it was simply an unexpected request, or if his previous partners had never asked to kiss him at all. But you wanted it, wanted him, in every sense of the word.

“Like this,” you gently take his face into your hands and guide him. The first is innocent, a quiet tribute to the way he’d kissed your cheek, a chance for him to pull away. He inhales with realisation, hips jerking forward as you part his lips, sighing into your mouth.

He mimics your movements intuitively, though he is messy with it, sucking on your tongue and nipping the plush of your lower lip. He’s pleased to see you slick with his spit, to have you grinding on his cock, helpless between the feelings of embarrassment and want.

His tail vibrates around your thigh, “fuck”. The muscles in your belly tighten, lungs filling as you gasp his name, your rhythm dissolving into a short rutting motion. You cum with nails tethered to his shoulders, limbs seizing and locking him against your front, a pitched moan catching in your throat.

There’s no time for shame, because Shouta is already pushing you until you are laid flat on your back, his broad chest smothering you as he reaches to turn on the bedside lamp.

The light bathes him in orange, mingling with the pink spreading along the length of his neck to his cheeks, giving him a peach tint. You drag your gaze across the dark, sparse hair of his chest, all the way down to the trail that leads from his navel beneath the waistband of his pants. The fabric is strained dark where his cock sits.

You’re so lost in admiring him that you forget he can see you, too. It isn’t until his fingers are hooking into your shorts that you realise, hands quickly grasping his wrists with thighs clenching tight to his sides. His ears flatten with irritation, expression predacious and curtained by his hair.

“Don’t hide from me,” he rasps, easily shaking off your grip, “let me have you. Let me see you this time, please”.

“Ok,” you exhale shakily. Saliva pools beneath your tongue as you lift your hips for him, eyes firmly up at the ceiling, feeling the tight material slip down your legs and over your pointed feet. Then he’s there at the apex of your thighs, behind him the silhouette of his tail upright and trembling as he parts your knees.

You watch as his stare lingers on your pussy with warmth blooming in your chest. No one has ever looked so mystified by you. You reach out to trace along his pointed ear, curling to scratch the space behind it. His eyes flutter slightly, leaning blissfully into your hand.

“You’re so wet,” two fingers slide precariously through your folds, collecting your arousal and spreading it over your clit. He’s toying with you, touch fleeting as he barely dips inside of you, pupils dilating until his iris has been swallowed by black.

“Please,” you whine, rolling your hips toward his cock in an effort to entice him. Whether he was inexperienced or just teasing, you couldn’t be totally sure — but it was less that he’d never seen a pussy, just more that he had never seen you. His thumb begins with tight circles, but when the pattern switches to a back and forth rhythm your toes curl, and he notices. Thick fingers sink into you, pulling all the way out just to feel how you beg him to stay, you jolt as they curl upwards and he notices.

He was learning what made you feel good and adapting to it.

Heat floods through your body as he slowly works you open, tail flitting restlessly like he were fighting his own instincts, purr still quiet but constant in his chest. It feels good, too good, paradoxically weightless while your muscles wring tight around his fingers.

Still sensitive from your first, the waves of your second orgasm swell, your cunt pulsing obscenely with each pass of his thumb over your clit. Purposeful and steady with his rhythm, Shouta keeps his fingers moving as he leans forward to press your foreheads together.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” your chest rises and falls, your voice pitched, desperate as you near the crest.

“Can feel it,” the words are breathless and thick in his throat, his eyes half lidded and refusing to blink, lest he miss the expression on your face.

“I want you squeezing around my cock like this,” he rasps, and your muscles pull taut. Your jaw slacks, lips parting to shape around a silent moan, and you cum on his fingers.

Shouta rides you through the following ripples of your orgasm with his face tucked against your throat, purring a few decibels higher than before and the heel of his hand pressed to your clit.

Mine, he’s murmuring, nipping gently where the vein in your jugular sits. Mine, over and over. And when he finally sits back, he slots his fingers into his mouth, lapping hungrily at the taste of you.

You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. It’s hot — he’s hot, and you’re too preoccupied with the cock straining in his sweatpants. He’s big, pulsing as you cup him in your hand, relishing how he chokes as you squeeze.

“Want you,” you tell him, “need you to feel good too”.

He grins then, wide and brilliant, as he uses his strength to suddenly flip you onto all fours. Kneeling behind you his sodden hands find purchase around your waist, leaning his weight forward and pressing you into the mattress, back curved like the spine of a bow as you present yourself to him.

You fold your arms beneath the pillow and your knees slide further apart for him as you feel the head of his cock slide through your folds, the soft wet sounds sharp in your ears. He slaps himself against your entrance.

“Do you have any idea how much I think about this pussy?”

You bury your face into the sheets, flustered, both by his question and his tone. A hand moves to take a handful of your ass, rocking you back onto him, the tip briefly catching. You whine.

“You make it so… hard not to,” he groans, slowly pushing the head of his cock in with his thumb, “I can smell it when you’ve touched yourself. Can hear you, even when you cover your mouth—”

He sinks into you, the press of his cock pushing the air from your lungs. He holds you in the cradle of his pelvis and folds his body over your own, forearms coming to rest either side of your head with lips ghosting the nape of your neck.

“Shouta,” you moan. It’s the only thing you can think of, the only word on your tongue.

“Wanna cum inside you,” he continues like he can’t help himself, grinding his hips in a circular motion against your ass, “want you to give me one more”.

Yes.

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, rocking back into his movement, “please”.

He’s so close, moulded perfectly along your back, mouth moving against the shell of your ear, groaning obscenely with each long stroke of his cock. He fucks you deeply until you’re collapsing into the mattress, his weight overwhelming and comforting, the new angle indelible.

He unravels you. The intensity is muted, your body limp and suspended in bliss. He pulls out until the tip kisses your folds only to rock forward once more, the force pushing you further up the bed. You’re going to cum again, you realise. It floods through you like the breaking of a dam, trembling hips lifting to exaggerate the downward arch of your back.

Shouta’s pace stutters as your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, fluttering with each wave that rolls through you. One of your arms slips out from beneath the pillows to reach over your shoulder, fingers gently caressing his pointed ear, and a deep rumbling builds in his chest.

You feel it when he cums, his hips slapping against your ass in a final thrust, his growl tapering off into a low, satisfied hum. Eventually the rigidity seeps from his muscles, the subtle undulating of his pelvis slowing to a complete stop as he begins to soften, and you grimace at the sensation of his cum drooling out onto the bedsheets.

Unperturbed, Shouta begins to leave a path of chaste kisses from one shoulder to the other. “We can sleep in my bed,” he quietly offers, rolling you into his embrace.

Finally able to get another good look at him, you take the time to admire the flush of red that has spread across his cheeks, your fingers aimlessly playing with the dark hair on his chest. His tail flicks your calf beneath the covers.

“Well someone needs to eventually,” you reply with tired amusement. And he grins.

Whatever this meant for the two of you — judgement and inner turmoil be damned — you think it’ll turn out alright.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader

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squishytenya · 3 years

Note

May I get aizawa and hizashi forgetting your birthday

Of course you can my love! Sorry this took me a little while btw mwah ily

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲

Pairings: Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic), Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead) x gn!reader

Notes: i love this series and i love getting asked for part 2 of things so asdjhl this was exciting! Hope you guys enjoy <3

Warnings: arguments (Aizawa) but not for a long time, sadness, insecurity, in case you didn’t realise they forget the readers birthday, cursing (aizawa)

━Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic)

Look, Hizashi is a very busy man and this is something you know

So when he cancels your dates, you’re mostly understanding and he always reschedules anyway

But you can’t exactly reschedule your birthday can you

Which is the exact thought you have while sitting alone on your sofa

He’ll be home soon though, right?

It’s 10pm when you finally five up. Your clothes are creased from you lounging on the couch. You had gotten ready at 6pm since that was when he got off of UA. Yet 4 hours later and your apartment was still empty besides you. You rubbed your arms, embarrassed for being so excited. Of course, he hadn’t actually said he was taking you anywhere but you just assumed since that’s what he did ever year since you met.

It was 11pm when he finally showed up. The bags under his eyes let you know just how tired he was and you felt slightly guilty for the verbal thrashing he was about to get.

“Hey baby, what are you all dolled up for?” He sung, tired voice carrying through the silence

“Oh nothing” you scoffed, crossing your arms, “only my birthday dinner”

The man froze. Your face was blank but your eyes swam with hurt. It wasn’t like him to do this kind of thing. He had never forgotten a birthday before or an anniversary. Hizashi was very organised when it came to events, especially ones that concern you.

Which is probably why he held such a devastated look on his face. He took a few steps towards you and cringed when you shuffled away. Sitting on the sofa, he turned to you. The remorse was evident in his face and it was probably that which tipped you over the edge. Tears started streaming down your face. You looked away, the guilt was evident enough on his face and you doubt you could’ve kept up the anger if you were looking.

Soft fingers held your chin softly, pulling it so your partner could see your tearyface.

“I’m so sorry y/n” he sighed, “I’m just tired and been so caught up with work y'know?”

You sniffled, nuzzling into his hand to show you were listening. His own eyes were tearing up now and you could see the guilt swirling throughout the colour you loved so much. It was obvious he hadn’t meant it but you still hurt.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow gorgeous, take the whole day off just for us two?”

Nodding, you rested your head on his shoulder. He hummed you to sleep and your both pretended not to feel the guilty tears dripping down his face. It was a conversation you could have tomorrow. You trusted him to make it up to you, malicious wasn’t a word you would use to describe your partner.

“I love you” he mused, kissing your head as your eyes slipped closed.

━Shouta Aizawa (Eraserhead)

You wish you could say that Shouta wasn’t the type to forget things

He forgot a lot of things but never something like this

Your birthday and anniversaries were like the one thing he remember

There have been more than a few rain checks called last minute but you never really cared

He always made them up to you in some way but this one was different

It was dark already. You hadn’t felt particularly safe in this part of town but while you were waiting it had started raining and now your paranoia was getting to you. It wasn’t even an unsafe part of town but you were alone and already emotionally vulnerable from being ditched for almost four hours by your long term partner. It was now reaching 11 and you were ready to cry.

Finally, you decided to call Nemuri, explaining to her what happened and where you were. The usually happy woman scoffed into the phone at her friends actions and came to pick you up. You were soaking and broke down in her passenger seat as she drove you home.

You shut the door quietly as you walked into your home. You were wet, crying and tired. An interaction with aizawa would have you breaking down in a way you really didn’t need tonight. Just your luck.

“Where have you been?”

You glared at the man on the sofa. He was lounging in a pair of old pyjama trousers, settled ont he sofa as if he hadn’t just humiliated you.

“Really Shouta?” He flinched at the use of his full name, “I’ve been standing outside of a restaurant alone for four hours, waiting for my partner to come and celebrate my birthday”

He checked the date on the calendar on your coffee table.

“Y/n, I-“

“Do you know how humiliating that was? You forgot my birthday, Shou!”

Your voice broke saying his name. You sank down onto the floor, head in your hands. The exhaustion was finally catching up to you, meaning you didn’t protest when strong arms wrapped around you and a familiar scent surrounded your body. His hands rubbed up and down your shoulders, calming you until you could speak.

“I’m sorry kitten, i can’t tell you why other than it just slipped my mind” he murmured into your hair, “I’ll make it up to you i promise”

You sniffled, tucking your head into his neck. You were still a little angry, still very upset but the feeling of his arms around you was a comfort you would allow yourself to indulge in. You trusted aizawa and knew he would make it up to you. This was something that could be sorted tomorrow and for now you just wanted to sleep in the safety of his arms.

“I’ll be better for you, I promise”

I feel like this was lowkey shitty but it’s all good, hope you guys enjoy and request are currently open!

Remember that reblogs and feedback help content creators! And that ily guys all very much!!

#bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha fluff #bnha angst #bnha imagine #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta imagine #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta headcanons #aizawa headcanons #hizashi yamada headcanons #hizashi Yamada x reader #present mic x reader #present mic imagine #present mic fluff #aizawa fluff #aizawa angst #present mic angst #present mic headcanons

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seijorhi · 4 years

Text

so speaking of bnha, I don’t know if any of y’all are into erasermic, but this thought has not left my head for the past 48 hours and so i’m gonna share it because i have no impulse control

TW breeding kink, pregnancy stuff, slight nsfw

So the two heroes finally decide that they want to have a kid, but instead of adopting, they decide to try surrogacy. Along comes you, sweet as can be and in need of a little cash. You’re not expecting the Heroes to choose you from the agency, but (after extensive background searches and vetting) both heroes are in agreement - you’re the one they want to carry their baby.

So at first it’s all very normal. You meet with them a few times over coffee before getting everything sorted and the procedure is done - hell, both of them show up to the actual appointment, which makes you a little embarrassed, but they quick to reassure you that they’re gonna be there every step of the way. This is their kid - the most important thing in their lives, of course they’re gonna want to be there for them (and you). They’re such a nice couple and they seem to like you, and it honestly doesn’t even seem real sometimes, but you’re so happy to help them out.

And nothing really seems out of place, until your first ultrasound. Mic insists on coming to pick you up for the appointment, and who are you to turn him down? It’s just that you kind of live in a bad part of town? And your apartment’s a little run down, but hey, rent is expensive and you’re making it work. Except neither Mic nor Shouta are particularly thrilled about your living conditions. You’re carrying the child of two pro heroes, they’re not trying to scare you, but you realise that if anybody with the wrong intentions were to find out, you’d be in danger?

So they suggest that you move in with them. There’s tons of space - they’re richer than you think, sweetheart - and that means that they can keep a closer eye on the pregnancy. It has to be nicer than your one bedroom shoebox, and won’t it be nice to have somebody there to look after you a little too? You’re carrying their child - you deserve to be spoiled a little.

The changes are subtle, so subtle, the heroes themselves aren’t even really aware they’re happening. They like having you around - there’s something oddly satisfying about coming home after a long day to see you sitting on the couch with a book in hand, absentmindedly rubbing your growing stomach with a quiet hum. The first time the baby kicks, you call them over so excitedly, and you’re so caught up in the odd sensation that you miss the shared look between the two of them. You just seem to slide into their life - Hizashi cooks for you (a pregnancy approved meal plan) and you try to keep the place neat and tidy while they’re gone - though Shouta warns you not to push yourself. You see them off every morning, and you’re there most nights when they get home - sleep doesn’t come as easily as it once did, so you sometimes just move to the living room, tune into Hizashi’s show and try to distract yourself - they’ve come home a few times to you passed out on that exact couch. On those nights Shouta has no problem carrying you up to your room and tucking you into bed with a kiss on your forehead During the days they have off, you usually spend it with them, lazing around their penthouse apartment or helping do baby stuff - getting the nursery ready, shopping, reading pregnancy books.

When your body aches and you’re overtired and worn out, Shouta will drag you upstairs, force you to lie down and give you a massage that has you moaning appreciatively beneath him. Hizashi’ll hold your hair back when you get morning sickness, rubbing your back soothingly. Affection becomes second nature between the three of you. Truthfully, you’re not sure how you would have gotten through this pregnancy without them. But there is a little part of you that worries about what’ll happen when you actually give birth - you’ve become so used to living with them, it’ll be weird to go back to being strangers.

Meanwhile, as your pregnancy goes on, the heroes are having the same kinds of thoughts. Well, almost. You see, they’re growing kind of attached. You’ve always been beautiful, but the sight of you, breasts swollen, tummy round with their child... it’s growing on them. Fuck, who are they kidding - it’s hot as hell. They’d be lying if they said they hadn’t imagined how it would feel to fuck you like that, how it would feel to breed you themselves, the proper way. You fit in so well with them, they adore you. You’re their sweetheart, and suddenly they’re not all that keen on letting you leave them at the end of this whole thing.

You’ll make such a good mother. They understood it when you explained that you didn’t really want kids of your own - at least, not yet, you’re still so young! But that was before you had them. They can support you, look after you so much better than when you were on your own and between the three of you, the kid’s gonna be the most spoiled little angel on the planet. And... and they like you a whole fucking lot, they love you, and you feel the same too, right? That’s why you curl up to Shouta when your hormones make you all emotional at the drop of a hat, it’s why you blush so prettily whenever Hizashi drops to his knees and showers your pregnant stomach with kisses.

You’re gonna be a family. And when the baby is born, well neither hero has much objection to the thought of getting you pregnant with another. You’re gonna make such a pretty little housewife for them.

#yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere present mic #BD rambles #like a lot #tw breeding kink #tw pregnancy

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miyamorana · 3 years

Text

January Fanfic Recs

Here are the fics that I’ve really enjoyed this month. All of these are complete. Enjoy!

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia (2), Boku no Hero Academia/Harry Potter crossover (1), Haikyuu!! (1), Harry Potter (3), Teen Wolf (1), Voltron: Legendary Defender (2), The Witcher (1)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Title: Learning Curve Author: Thealmostrhetoricalquestion Pairing: None Rating: Teen Word Count: 34,844 Summary: Nobody told Shouto Todoroki that he was going to have an entirely different battle to face after the war was over. It's a good thing he's got his family, his teachers, and his friends to stop him getting left behind.

“I’ve always fought with my Quirk,” Shouto said, unclenching his fists.

“And now you don't have it,” Aizawa said, not unkindly, although it still stung. “Are you going to stop fighting?”

Title: All The Whispered Things Author: Thealmostrhetoricalquestion Pairing: None Rating: Teen Word Count: 11,551 Summary: Todoroki is hit by a Delirium Quirk, but nobody notices. Least of all him.

The mission is simple: board the train, successfully navigate a crowded festival without running into trouble, and have fun. Aizawa isn’t there to hold their hands, but Shouto has no doubt that he’ll be sitting by his phone the entire time, waiting for something to go wrong.

You’d think that by their third year, Aizawa would have a little more trust in all of them. But he doesn’t.

And considering the way things immediately go wrong, Shouto can’t really blame him.

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia/Harry Potter

Title: Heroes all have a Saving People Thing Author: Blueseabird2 Pairings: Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi, Midoriya Izuku/Harry Potter Rating: Teen Word Count: 94,246 Summary: Aizawa gets called to England to deal with the Black family fortune and returns with a traumatized war hero cousin he will not be giving back. Aizawa's pretty sure his husband won't mind.

Harry meets an actually competent adult who actually understands, offers to take him away, and is willing to tell the Magical Word to shove it. Harry maybe gets attached.

Class 3A adopts another hero or two and learns that Problem Children who had megalomaniacs chasing them through school bond startlingly quickly. They also shouldn't be left alone with Nezu.

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Title: Three Little Words Author: JonJackTheBoi Pairing: Hinata Shouyou/Yamaguchi Tadashi Rating: General Word Count: 6,584 Summary: After learning he'd never been to one, Hinata insists on taking Yamaguchi to a pet cafe, just the two of them. Yamaguchi's only issue with it is that he can't tell if it's the type of date he wants it to be or not.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Title: Azoth Author: zeitgeistic Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy Rating: Explicit Word Count: 88,722 Series: Part 1 of Azoth (Words: 90,351 - Works: 2) Summary: Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Title: Life skills outside the curriculum Author: Endrina Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy Rating: Explicit Word Count: 66,238 Summary: It was "Witch Weekly", of all people and organizations, the first to notice and comment on The Boy Who Lived’s absence from the ranks of first years at Hogwarts. The magazine went on to elucubrate that the young hero was studying at a foreign school, possibly Beauxbatons or Holzschuhkäse.

Title: The Meaning of Mistletoe Author: Endrina Pairing: Remus Lupin/Severus Snape (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy in later parts) Rating: Mature (Part 3 is rated Explicit) Word Count: 30,708 Series: Part 1 of The secret language of plants (Words: 373,077 - Works: 4) Summary: “Just… tell me. Tell me what is going on, Snape.”

What was going on was that Severus Snape had no trouble tracking down one Petunia Evans, now Dursley, to a little town in Surrey where he saw how exactly she was treating her nephew. Which somehow led to last night and Severus knocking on Lupin’s door with a toddler half-asleep in his arms.

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Title: El Lazo Author: thisgirlsays22 Pairing: Derek Hale/Stile Stilinkski Rating: Explicit Word Count: 50,995 Series: Part 1 of El Lazo (Words: 54,503 - Works: 2) Summary: "Seriously, Derek, level with me here. Is this some kind of werewolf mating ritual?"

"No, Stiles." Derek scowls, shooting him a dirty look.

Canon-flavored college AU in which Stiles is a little bit older, Derek's a little bit wiser, and Erica and Boyd still manage to get kidnapped by the Alpha Pack.

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Title: The Snow on Mars Author: museaway Pairing: Keith/Shiro Rating: Teen Word Count: 11,243 Summary: This is the reality with a happy ending thanks to the help of a meddling inter-dimensional being and a few Christmas ‘spirits’ sent to show Shiro the past, present, and future.

Title: Method Acting Author: YouAreInAComaWakeUp (Nikanaiko) Pairing: Keith/Lance Rating: Teen Word Count: 11,116 Summary: A lot of things can happen in ten years.

Things like a person's citizenship being revoked due to new, xenophobic laws.

But there is...one...loophole.

Fandom: The Witcher

Title: Do it Again Author: thisgirlsays22 Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,771 Summary: By the twentieth time Geralt has gone through the loop, he decides to just throw himself off the cliff’s edge after Borch.

He wakes up to his twenty-first attempt.

“Fuck.”

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 4 years

Text

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader, a sprinkling of Erasermic and eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Some explicitness towards the end

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 11/16 (all chapters)

Hizashi was used to staying awake long into the morning. He was also used to sharing his bed with one night stands.

For some reason, though, something felt different about it when it was you.

He had been tired from sex and relaxed from the bathtub, yet when he laid beside you he couldn’t look away, much less sleep. After your long soak together, he had gotten you an oversized shirt to wear from his wardrobe and stroked your hair until you fell asleep.

Even then, wearing nothing but a shirt with his face on, you still reminded him of a kitten.

He considered it as you took the train back to your place, watching your reflection in the windows. Every so often you stifled yawns and scratched your eyes, the steady rhythm of the train carriage lulling you into sleep. You rested your head on his shoulder without meaning to, only to jump start awake whenever the train came to a stop.

You looked so innocent while you slept and he couldn’t believe he had slept with you only a matter of hours before this. It was possibly the furthest thing from his mind when he left the restaurant to find you, let alone when he got dressed to go out.

He wanted to discuss it with you while it was still fresh in your minds. It had been a long day for everyone and he didn’t doubt that the next one would be longer, but what had happened between you was too important to leave buried between the sheets.

He reached out for your arm as you got to your stop, oddly concerned that you would fall asleep on your feet. You blushed at the contact though didn’t shrug him off, cheeks still peppered with colour as you unlocked your front door.

Hizashi had never been to your apartment before and didn’t know what to expect, his curiosity on the matter giving him a new lease of life.

“I’ll make some tea,” you said, pointing out a dinner table and couch, “make yourself at home.”

Hizashi didn’t sit down. Instead, while you pottered around in the kitchen, he took the chance to look around, leaning over to examine the photographs on your walls and bookshelves.

“Is this you?” he asked, picking up a particular frame.

“Oh,” you glanced across. “Yes, haha. It was taken a long time ago, though!”

It was a photograph of a younger looking you at your high school graduation, standing with your mother, father and older brother. Hizashi hadn’t given much thought to what your family might be like, only that the photograph in his hand didn’t match the image in his mind. Your father was tall and broad shouldered, with cold, searching eyes. Your mother was slight and had clearly been beautiful in her youth, though she glared out at the camera as if whoever took the photograph had gravely insulted her. Your brother was the perfect combination of them both, handsome and tall, with a sharp jawline and serious expression. He had on a perfectly tailored suit and held his arms behind his back, rigidly standing up straight as if someone had given him a forceful boot to the rear seconds before taking the photo.

There was no warmth in any of them, not even you. You stood as rigidly as they did, positioned between your mother and father like a hostage. Hizashi glanced back at the person rummaging through the cupboards for cups and then at the photograph, trying and failing to match up the girl in the picture to the one he knew.

“Now then,” you said, resting a tea tray on your kitchen table and pouring two cups, “about...earlier..”

He set down the photograph and joined you at the table, accepting the cup you held out to him.

“I...ummm...Where would you like to go from here?”

He scratched his moustache out of habit, searching his brain for the right words. An hour or so ago, he wouldn’t have been so sure of his answer, but now that the dust had settled only one outcome made sense.

“Nowhere.”

He didn’t miss the flash of panic in your eyes, a moment of self doubt that you might have done something wrong, and reached out to touch your hand across the table.

“Don’t think too much about it,” he said. “It’s just...you said you forgot who you were outside of your old relationship, right?”

You nodded.

“It wouldn’t be right for me to push you into one now,” he said. “I want you at nothing less than 100%. 25% (Name) is a hottie. 100% (Name)...”

He sucked in a deep breath and reached out his hands, framing your face in his fingers.

“...100% (Name) should have a warning label,” he said. “And, hey, after that performance? I’d say you’re well on your way to 30%.”

You spat out your tea at that.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said. “All I get is 5% ? How many guys do I have to sleep with to get to 100?”

“They don’t have to be different guys,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “Could be the same guy over and over .”

“You’re terrible.”

“You’re cute.”

“You...are giving me really mixed signals right now.”

He smirked and took a sip of tea, silently acknowledging that you had a point.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “well...in a few hours...I won’t mention it again unless you do.”

“Like... a reset?”

You said it as if it had significance, though he didn’t know why.

“Yes, yes,” he said, “exactly like a reset!”

You laughed bitterly and for a moment he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. It lasted only a moment, though, and you set down your cup with a smile.

“A reset sounds good,” you said, though the smile didn’t quite meet your eyes.

~~~~

He stayed a while longer, engaging in small talk as he finished off his tea.

He reached into his pockets as he got to his feet, dragging out his hair band and tidying up his bun. It was early, sure, but if Nemuri was right and the media really were on high alert, the last thing he wanted was photos of him looking so tired in mass circulation.

He stretched out the band, only to curse as it snapped.

“Hey, (Name),” he said. “Do you have any hair ties?”

You poked your head around the kitchen door, midway through running the tap.

“Uhhh...sure...I usually keep some in my bedroom cupboard,” you said. “Help yourself, it’s just through there.”

“Thank you,” he said, following your directions into the bedroom and realising the flaw in your instructions within seconds. You had mentioned them being in your bedroom cupboard, though hadn’t specified which one.

He opened the one nearest your bed, then the one nearest your window, all to no avail.

Maybe he had misheard you?

He opened your wardrobe door, going over your directions and struggling to think of a single misunderstanding.

“(Name),” he called out, “wh------”

He fell silent, noticing a familiar flash of colour.

No. No, surely not…

He pulled out the dress, stomach falling through the floor.

It couldn’t be. It had to be a mistake.

“Having fun?” you asked, poking your head through the door.

“This dress,” he said, “it’s l-lovely. You have excellent taste.”

“You think so? I was thinking of getting rid of it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, stroking the fabric with a fond expression. “I hooked up with a guy the only time I ever wore it and I can’t look at it now without thinking of him.”

He had to be wrong. He had to be.

He thought back to your first day, the conversation you had had in the izakaya.

I was seeing someone. We were together for years, actually, but we broke up a little over six months ago.

His mouth ran dry as he remembered the conversation he had had with the bartender at Ego .

She was here about six months ago. Had drinks with Eraser. I was hoping you’d remember her.

It had to be a coincidence. There were hundreds of single women in Musutafu, any of whom could have bought the same dress.

“Oh, did...did you go anywhere nice?”

“My friends dragged me along to a nightclub in town,” you said, blushing luridly. “ Ego .”

You looked up into his face the moment you said it, suddenly looking more than a little bit concerned.

“Are you okay? You’ve gone really pale.”

You reached up to touch a hand to his forehead and he flinched without meaning to.

It was the hand Shouta had reached for; one that had almost certainly explored his body.

“I...I’m fine,” he stammered, thrusting the dress back towards you. “It’s a nice dress, you should keep it! Okay, then, bye!”

He rushed out of your bedroom and through the front door before you could say another word, forgetting all about his broken hair tie and even the incident at Hosu. He caught the train on autopilot, watching and rewatching the video on his phone of Shouta and the woman from Ego . Now that he knew it was you, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed earlier. Your posture, the way the dress clung to your body...there was no one else it could have been.

He remembered your moans of pleasure and how good it had felt to be inside you, unable to distract himself from his own morbid curiosity. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, dozens of scenarios coming to mind and all of them involving you and Shouta naked.

He imagined Shouta’s lips on yours; your sigh of pleasure as you took his cock.

He switched off the video and loaded music instead, trying to drown out the niggling thought at the back of his mind.

He was jealous, though had no idea which of you he envied more.

#bnha #aizawa x reader #present mic x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #habanero

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halcyon-writings · 4 years

Note

Heyyy could I request a headcanin for Present mic, all might and aizawa accidentally making their s/o cry, like they lose their temper or say something that really hurts their s/o without realising

heehoo smth i can do on mobile

warning for potential spoilers i guess in Toshinori’s part (Idk if it constitutes as a spoiler but if you’re not caught up I guess?? it is) i also tried not to be too repetitive oop shdjd

requests are currently open!!

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic

He’s naturally a loud man, even his speaking voice can be considered an outside voice. Seriously, his volume can go from loud to extreme in just the shortest span of seconds.

But it doesn’t mean he’s never mad! He’s an easy going guy to his friends, random people on the street, to his s/o you name it. It takes a lot for him to get frustrated. He has a lot of patience, or at least more than what he lets on.

When he is a bit mad/frustrated, you’ll notice he’s actually quiet, solemn almost, it’s rather jarring. You can walk into your shared home usually he’s jamming out to his favorite music but then you’re shocked from the amount it silence you get instead of his cheerful greeting. And usually he’s prone to snapping, although never at you. Until it happened.

When he sees your hurt look, the way you don’t meet his eyes, wiping your eyes with your sleeve, before leaving him to brood, his heart sinks. He’ll do his best to follow, but not crowding you.

Hizashi’s apologizing profusely, it wasn’t right for him to snap at you when all you were doing was asking if he was okay. He feels so guilty, even after you accept the apology. He’s ordering you flowers (if you like them), getting you little gifts, you name it.

You’re just like “listen you apologized, and you meant it. Please- it’s fine.” He’s still gonna spoil you with gifts though so there’s that.

Toshinori Yagi/All Might

This lovely man almost never, ever raises his voice. Surprising since like Hizashi, he’s also pretty loud when he wants to be. But that comes with the whole, All Might/Symbol of Peace personality he’s got.

Like I can’t actually imagine the man yelling out of anger, (except like during the Hideout Raid arc but shh). But on the rare rare rare, have I have mentioned rare? occasion, it’s not fun. He’s more excitable! He likes to show his excitement through that, very rarely does he ever get mad. I have to emphasize that dhskdj.

So for this type of situation in general it’s after Hideout Raid arc/post One for All fight. He’s a hero, used to acting in order to help people, but he can’t really do that anymore. Safe to say, it’s frustrating.

And like the prompt suggests, he may have snapped at you once. And you’re more stunned than anything. You might have offered to help him with something idk man. But the gist is, you’re hurt, and he’s hurt and the situation is not cash money.

The first thing is he’ll give you time, whether it’s to cool off if you get mad at him, or to calm down if you’re upset. Then quietly joins you and apologizes. There’s that one look in his eyes that shows the sincerity in the apology. please accept it he’s doing his best.

You don’t know if you were crying from the way he snapped at you or his apology, but at this point it’s just both so apology cuddles are abound.

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Now that buddy boy’s eyes are all but messed up, it’s really tough for him to not only teach his students but night patrols are just as tough, if not even more so.

The pure exhaustion, also makes him frustrated. He’s so used to being okay generally, but having to stop and rest his eyes for a while, has him really on edge. Who knew what could happen between then.someone could’ve gotten injured, a villain could have escaped, who knows.

He won’t want to air out his frustrations either, which in turn only means they’re bottled up a lot more and he’s just a ticking time bomb. Which means when he finally does let it out, it’s uh, just a tiny bit explosive (I’m not sorry).

You flinch back, his voice never raised, and never at you. He tries to speak, but he can’t find the words. Your eyes water and Aizawa feels the guilt just plummet in his chest, it’s as though he’s swallowed lead.

For him, it’s not hard to apologize but he’s just still having a difficult time all the same. He wants to be self reliant, doesn’t want to burden anyone with anything, even if it means he’s gonna bottle things up. Which is not a good coping mechanism in the slightest but he’s done it for so long it’s a difficult habit to break. His apology is more in actions, he takes your hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze, his leans against your shoulder, his voice soft as he apologizes, but he doesn’t expect your forgiveness either.

He doesn’t do too many gifts, but he does pick up a bouquet of your favorite flowers more often. Or maybe your favorite meal from a restaurant nearby. Sometimes even staying in or coming back from patrol early to spend more time with you as well.

#bnha imagines #bnha imagine #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagines #aizawa shouta x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #bnha headcanon #bnha x reader #mine

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pamgkrthwrites · 4 years

Text

Flame of Healing | EraserMic x Reader | Chapter Two - Too Close

Masterlist | AO3

Warning: Soulmate AU, little bit of Oboro x Reader, fem reader, ANGST.

Word Count: 2012

A/N: Reader is on the fence on if will date her soulmates. This be a major point in the story so, hold onto your hats. I’ve tried writing reader in a way so you can’t tell their race. Idk if these chapters will be daily, just been needing to write some comfort shit. WE WILL GET THERE I PROMISE. Kinda slow burn? maybe lol.

“Hey Y/N!” You heard a voice behind you.

You turned and saw your blue hair friend running towards you with a bright smile on his face.

“Oboro, how you doing buddy?” You smiled as he slowed down to stop next to you.

It had been months science the sports festival, and the next UA school festival was in a weeks time. You may have not changed your stance on not loving them, but you did change your stance on meeting them. You were going to choose your love, not a name on your wrist.

“Have you picked out what you are going to wear?” He asked as he caught his breath.

“Yes Oboro, I have.” You smiled.

Your friend was trying his hardest on his end to become friends with your soulmates. So far he only befriended Hizashi, or was at least on speaking terms. Apparently Hizashi was friendly to everyone, which made you giggle as you hugged your pillow at night.

“It’s in your favourite colour yes?” He asked, straightening up and looking at you deeply.

“Yes, it is.” You laughed. “And it doesn’t really matter. It feels rude to come in all fancy to meet your soulmate only to reject said soulmate. I’m just meeting them.”

“Which is very important!” He smiled all goofy.

You smiled, and you two walked home together.

Oboro rubbed the back of his neck. “Once Aizawa finds out about you being his soulmate he’ll probably get real nasty if he sees me walking you home.”

Apparently Shouta got angry at Oboro for addressing him with his first name. He only did so because of you but Shouta was seeing it as rude.

“Is he that way with Hizashi?” You asked. You loved asking about the two. It filled up your heart with a soft warmness.

“Yeah, some girl in the support class confessed her feelings to Hizashi.” Oboro stated. You felt your heart freeze. It wasn’t unheard of for people to fall for someone who wasn’t their soulmate, it just ends badly when the soulmate turned up or if the other had one. “Hizashi was cool about it and said he already found his soulmate. Though, he did check if she was you.”

That warmed your heart but also fill you with dread. He thought about you sure, but he was looking for you.

“Aizawa cracked the shits once he found out. He went off to go find her but Hizashi stopped him. Apparently she tried to play off she was you but she didn’t have the same name.”

“It’s kinda funny people are claiming to be their soulmate yet your the only person who knows.” You laughed.

His laughed followed. His laugh always filled your heart with warmness. Not the same as your soulmates did, but in a different way.

“I do worry though,” Oboro said. “I think they have started their relationship and I don’t want your fear of being the third wheel to become true.”

It wasn’t something you could ignore anymore. The fear that your soulmates were happy together and may fear what you’ll do to that.

“That’s why I’m going simply-casual. Once they figure out who I am, they will just see someone they can see casually or romantically if need be.”

“So you are willing to date them.” He smirked at you.

“In the future. Right now it is I don’t see myself dating them. I do love them in a way but I can’t see myself dating them anytime soon.”

Oboro always had a sad soft expression when he heard you say that. Oboro took your hands and looked you in eyes. You felt your heart pounding as you looked up at him.

“Y/N, you have so much love to give.” He smiled sweetly. “Even if you choose not to love them, you are going to show so much love to someone else, and they will fully love you.”

Your heart raced and your cheeks burned. You were suddenly aware of how close you two were and you stared at his lips. You realised how close you were and you wanted to be closer. You didn’t understand this feeling, it was similar but not the same to when you saw or heard about your soulmates.

“Oboro!” A funky sounding voice said behind you two.

You both broke eye contact to see who was speaking, and your heart dropped.

“Hizashi?” Oboro said in a confused voice as he let go of your hands.

“Hey there buddy.” Hizashi smiled and stopped in front of you two. “Is that your girlfriend?”

Your cheeks burned and Oboro had a noticeable redness to his ears and cheeks.

“NO! No, she is my friend!” Oboro smiled as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought you in.

You couldn’t stop staring at Hizashi. Dear god your soulmate almost watched you kiss someone else-

Oh god, you almost kissed Oboro.

You two became quiet, almost as though you both understood what almost happened.

“Well, she is a cutie!” Hizashi said. However, his voice sounded strained, as though he was holding back anger. “What’s your name?”

You looked into Hizashi’s glasses, and briefly saw the anger in his eyes. Did he know you were his soulmate? Did he understand what he walked in on? Did he hate you?

You couldn’t make a sound, all you could do was lower your head and shuffle to hide behind Oboro.

Oboro looked at you briefly before looking at Hizashi and smiled. “Sorry, she is rather shy. I’m taking her to the School Festival next week though. Maybe you two can chat then?”

Hizashi simply smiled, but with anger behind it. “That’s cool. Does her soulmate know your with her?”

Panic burst into your body.

Did he know?

Did his heart beat fast when looking at you like you did?

Would he stay angry at you?

What if he never loved you because of this.

You heard Oboro take a breath in to answer to you cut him off.

“I don’t actually have a soulmate.” You stated.

Oboro snapped his head around to you and Hizashi’s smiled turned into a frown.

“Really?” Hizashi asked. His voice sounded like a mix of shock and sadness.

You pulled out your wrists which had their names covered with makeup. Of course, he wouldn’t know that Oboro did though.

“...I see…” Hizashi’s voice sounded defected. “Sorry ‘bout that Listener, I must’ve been jelly over your closeness with my pal here!”

Oboro looked at you then back at Hizashi. “It’s alright Huzashi, see you tomorrow?”

“...Yeah, sure I will!” Hizashi forced a smiled and walked off.

Once he was out of ear and eyeshot, Oboro turned to you and whispered.

“...Y/N, why did you lie to him like that?” He asked.

“He was scary!” You looked at him. “What else was I suppose to do? Say ‘Yes hello I am your soulmate and almost kissed your’-”

Oboro covered your mouth with his hand. His cheeks were burning red.

“Y/N, we are never talking about that again.” He glared.

You grabbed his hand and pulled it away from your face. “If you are going to say I’m confused, don’t. Who said I had to love my soulmates anyway? There isn’t a law against it!”

Oboro took his hand away from you. You both glared at each other.

“Y/N, I’m sorry but I can’t be your rebound off of your soulmates.”

It felt like you were stung by a bee.

Did you love Oboro? You didn’t know. You were close to him sure, but were you that close?

“I’ll see you later, Y/N.” You said before he turned away and walked on without you.

You wanted to cry.

---

Shouta was doing his homework when Hizashi started spamming him, trying to call him.

He sighed and picked up. “‘Zashi this better be importan-”

He heard sniffle on the other end. “I thought I saw her, Shou!”

Shouta’s heart dropped. Ever since Hizashi and Shouta met each other first day, they had wondered if you ould pop up soon. They checked the names of the students in the other classes and years and couldn’t find it.

Shouta had been bullied for years for having two names, but once he met Hizashi, his life became a little less dark. His parents were happy that he found one of his soulmates, but his world didn’t feel whole without you.

He never had anyone been really interested in any of his soulmates names until that one time in the changing rooms where Shirakumo saw it.

“Whoa, you have two names?” He smiled as he looked at his wrists.

Oboro Shirakumo was soulless, which meant he didn’t have a soulmate. Maybe he wouldn’t judge like everyone else did.

He smiled brightly when he saw Hizashi’s name, but when it came to your name, he stopped.

“Y/N L/N?”

He never heard anyone but himself and Hizashi pronounce your last name correctly. He went to extreme measures to saw it correctly so he wouldn’t offend you, and he was proud of that. Shirakumo knowing how to say it and how he reacted, only said one thing to him.

He knew you, personally.

Shouta wished he could be happy about that, that he could use Oboro to meet you, but all he felt was anger for the cloud boy.

He started to hate him and avoided him all he could. He, of course, told Hizashi, who took it as becoming friends with Oboro to use him to meet you.

Hizashi spoke, breaking Shouta’s thoughts. “There was this cutie girl who was holding Oboro’s hands, pretty sure they almost kissed. But looking at her, made me heart thump so hard man! But when I saw the bigger picture, my body grew angry!”

Shouta grew angry just hearing about it. Was that why Oboro reacted the way he did when he saw your name on his left wrist? Because he was dating you?

Hizashi continued. “So I walked my butt up to them. They both reacted like I walked in on a soulmate cheating yo! I tried asking for her name but she refused to give it up!”

Shouta only grew angry. He wanted to snap Oboro’s head. If that girl was their soulmate, he was holding her back from her true love for some fake shit!

“So I asked if her soulmate knew she was there, ya’know, t-to see if she was yours, ya’know?” Hizashi started stuttering as he started to cry.

Shouta sat there, hearing his soulmate cry over the phone. He couldn’t do anything, he felt his heart was going to break from anger.

“She said she doesn’t have a soulmate.”

Lying bitch.

You were going to make this hard, weren’t you?

What did that cloud fucker do to you?

What could some soulless fucker have that was better than meeting your soulmates?!

“She brought out her wrists willingly to prove she doesn’t have one.”

…

Shouta’s heart dropped.

So… That wasn’t you…

He felt his eyes water and he hunched over his desk.

God that wasn’t you.

He was about to murder Oboro because of a misunderstanding.

He was weak.

So fucking weak.

Shouta looked at his right wrists to look at your name.

“We’ll find her one day, ‘Zashi.” Shouta said, as strongly as he could.

---

Oboro and you walked to the UA school festival early in the morning. You too hadn’t really talked since the almost kissed thing.

“So, you’re not going to confess to lying to them?” He asked.

“To Hizashi, yes. Just call me M/N when we are there.”

“Why M/N?” He asked, raising an eye brow.

“It’s my middle name. If they hear that and my last name, they may think I’m my cousin or something. It will keep them at a distance.”

“...If you say so.” He said as he put his hands into his jacket pockets.

You wore a hoodie in your favourite colour and jeans. Casual.

Nothing that would provoke romantic feelings from your soulmates.

#shouta aizawa #hizashi yamada #shouta aizawa x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #eraserhead #Present Mic #erasermic x reader #polyamorous #poly relasionship

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secondhand-trash · 5 years

Text

Pro-hero masterlist

|Aizawa Shouta|

Crush Culture

You were certain that the crush you had years ago died out. But as you took up a position at your mother school, seeing the same person you crushed on seems to prove it otherwise.

Stay (modern magic au)

Two immortals kept running into each other in the span of centuries.

Attention

“Pay attention to me.”

Being friends with reader who has a video game quirk (hc)

Soft hcs (hc)

When you get inside after being out during winter for too long (drabble)

“Do you want me to save food for you?” (drabble)

|Takami Keigo/Hawks|

Paper Cranes

Your unconventional way of handling writer’s block caught the eyes of a certain bird boi.

I Miss You Most On Christmas

You loved Hawks and you could take the burden of being with someone of importance like him but you were feeling exceptionally lonely on Christmas.

Nothing and Everything

Hawks never wanted anything for his birthday, honestly. But wanting nothing was more difficult than anything with him being the no 2 hero.

Work of Art (nsfw)

Your boyfriend had a beautiful body hiding beneath those layers, you could not be blamed that you wanted to trascript that sight into actual art.

I’ve Got You Pegged (nsfw)

It’s pegging, y’all. There’s really nothing else I could say about it;)

Servant and the Red Chicken (fairytale au)

Rumours of the prince who suddenly disappeared casted a shadow across the palace. But that was none of your business, you were just a servant trying to make a living. Rather than the royal gossip, you would much get answers to why there was a loud chicken following you around the palace grounds.

Light As A Feather (nsfw)

You had always loved his wings. But it was this one particular morning when he realised just how much you loved his feathers.

A Night in Heaven (nsfw)

You did not know what you were expecting when you signed up for a night in heaven with a stranger, but what you got was definitely better than what you had hoped for

Bodysuit (nsfw)

Your boyfriend lounged around like the tease he was in his working clothes and you had enough of it.

Satin & Lace (nsfw)

The only thing better than a man in lingerie is two men in lingerie.

Goodnight with Hawks (hc)

Hawks with a s/o who praises him on everything (hc)

Going to a karaoke bar with Hawks and Tokoyami (hc)

Nerdy s/o (hc)

Soft hcs (hc)

General sub!Hawks stuff (nsfw)(hc)

Taking care of s/o during their period (hc)

Hawks with a burlesque dancer s/o (nsfw)(hc+drabble)

Hawks’ s/o got hurt during a mission (drabble)

“You did a wonderful job convincing people that you love me, I almost fell for it.” (drabble)

Hug and Comfort (drabble)

Pro hero!reader when Hawks turned to villainy (drabble)

Breeding (nsfw)(drabble)

The feeling of looking up at the sky to see that one brightest star and feel at awe because you normally can’t see any stars in the city (drabble)

When you smell the cookies baking in the oven after your arms are sore from beating the mixture till white and fluffy for 30 minutes (drabble)

The sound of cica chirping on a summer night (drabble)

The feeling of the first breath of cold air in the morning+When you walk home from the road you go on every day only to look up to see the sun setting and you are filled with awe of how breathtakingly beautiful such a scene you are used to seeing could be+ When you see people walking past you in the evening, your heart filled with an odd warmth knowing that these people are on the way home to the ones they love (drabble)

When you get back inside after being out during winter for too long (slight nsfw)(drabble)

“How could you betray me like this?” (drabble)

“We aren’t meant to be, can’t you tell?” (drabble)

Sub!Hawks being cocky at first (nsfw)(drabble)

Hiding reader in his house after “killing” them for the League (drabble)

Reader tugging themselves under his wings when they thought he was asleep (drabble)

Tying him up and teasing him with a feather (nsfw)(drabble)

Using cheesy pickup lines on his s/o (drabble)

Modeling for a couple’s clothing line with his crush (drabble)

Hiring another winged hero at his agency (drabble)

You were the nurse at the ward he was staying in (drabble)

Hawks visit nurse!reader at the hospital during patrol (nsfw)(drabble)

Late Night Cravings aka birb brought you nugs at night (drabble)

Pegging Hawks (again) (nsfw)(drabble)

Going sub when you suck him off (nsfw)(drabble)

Lifted off the ground mid air against a wall (nsfw)(drabble)

Marking s/o up (nsfw)(drabble)

Alive aka making out with an adrenaline rush (slight nsfw)(drabble)

Being lured in by yokai!Hawks (nsfw)(drabble)(yokai au)

Watching the sun rise on a rooftop (drabble)

Anxious to see his kids while being in the hospital (drabble)

Ways to kiss a stupid bird during an epidemic (drabble)

Taking care of him in the hospital (drabble)

Museum (drabble)

|Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic|

Being friends with reader who has a video game quirk (hc)

|All Might|

Being friends with reader who has a video game quirk (hc)

|Toyomitsu Taishiro/Fatgum|

Soft hcs (hc)

The feeling of sinking into your bed after a long day (drabble)

#bnha imagine #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha imagine #mha imagines #mha x reader

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ryujin-zanba · 5 years

Text

Party Animal

This one got a little long 😅

It’s Midnight’s birthday and Aizawa insists that he’s happy to come along with you to the party, but there’s a reason the underground hero tends to avoid such high-energy occasions~

Rating: Teen & Up Words: 1125 Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Social Anxiety, Separation Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Caretaking, Anxious Aizawa

This is undeniably the very last place Aizawa wants to be, but it’s Nemuri’s birthday and she’s been his friend nearly as long as Hizashi, so he couldn’t really decline.

Well, he could have, and he would have... if it weren’t for you.

Not that you’d pushed him to come. On the contrary, you’d assured him you’d make excuses for him if he wanted to stay home, but surprising though it is, Aizawa would rather endure the discomfort of a loud party and be with you than be without.

He flinches at the first hint of music as you cross the street. It’s audible from out here, so inevitably it’s going to be even louder inside, and you notice how Aizawa hunches his shoulders up to try and defend his ears without making it obvious that he’s already uncomfortable.

“Sweetheart,” you tut, trying to unball a clenched fist by taking his hand. “We can go home. I know this isn’t your scene and Nemuri has known you long enough to understand if you didn’t want to—”

“I’m fine,” he lies, “besides, who’s gunna’ make sure you get home safe? It’s only logical that I accompany you.”

“…Right,” you smirk, catching his eye for a second and watching how he quickly averts his gaze and blushes a little.

“Come on,” he insists, squeezing your hand in preparation for the stress he’s about to expose himself to. “Let’s just get this over with.”

You say nothing, but find yourself giving the back of his head an affectionate scratch.

He says it’s only logical, but really there’s nothing logical about him being here at all, given how he is. That’s how you know it’s not logic though, it’s simply you, and he’d brave anything for you, even one of Midnight’s famously wild birthday parties.

It’s at a night club, so after flashing your invites you’re swiftly ushered inside.

Aizawa is already gripping your hand like he’s hanging off a cliff by it, and you see how his jaw clenches as the pounding music thrums in his bones and sends signals to his brain that tell him his tolerance for this high-energy situation is already on a timer.

You quickly spot the birthday girl on her pedestal chatting away to her boys and several other heroes, and you catch her eye with a wave, attempting to make your way over only to realise you’re anchored to something.

“Shou? Come on let’s go over there, it’s a bit quieter on that side,” you encourage, leaning in so you don’t have to shout too much.

You feel him shaking his head as he leans in closer too, putting his other hand on your shoulder as he struggles for a moment to try and find his voice.

“There’s a crowd,” is the best he can do in terms of an explanation.

It’s good enough for you to understand though, and you kiss his cheek reassuringly before guiding him to the edge of the dance floor and weaving your way around instead of diving into the throng of people.

Having lost sight of you for a moment, Nemuri looks surprised when you pop up again, and she hops down from the garish leopard-print love-seat to greet you both.

“So glad you came!” the R-rated hero cheers. “Hey, you’re a real miracle-worker, y’know? This one’s never been to a single one of my birthdays,” she points out with a playful jab at the ornery man beside you.

Aizawa makes no attempt to defend himself from that since it’s not really a lie, but just when you think he might be getting a little more comfortable here, his body goes rigid at the sound of Hizashi’s hazy voice rasping through the speakers.

“Hey-hey-hey, listeners! Present Mic is in the house!” he announces, addling on as Aizawa slumps beside you and grumbles that he needs a drink.

You couldn’t hear him over the noise, but you saw his lips movie, and it seems like Midnight had the same idea as she gives an order to one of her boys, who then sweeps over and offers to escort you.

“We’re getting drinks,” you inform after briefly conferring with the young hero. “You stay here, okay?”

“Huh?!” Aizawa starts when, too soon before his rattled brain has processed your words, you’re letting go of his hand. “W-wait! I’ll come!” he insists, panic taking hold in seconds when the crowd swallows you up.

“Hey, Shouta, you doin’ okay?” Nemuri investigates as she stops clapping along to Hizashi’s chanting for a moment and notices how the underground hero is visibly starting to show distress.

Aizawa doesn’t answer, he just continues searching frantically through the sea of people for a hint of you.

“The bar’s just over there, hun,” she points out to him, catching on quick. “They won’t be long.”

“I feel dizzy,” Aizawa murmurs, his breathing frantic as the walls start to warp and the crowd seems to swell and draw threateningly near to him.

He’s so disoriented that he doesn’t actually realise who’s talking to him at first when you steady him and say, “Are you uncomfortable? Do you want to leave?”

“I’m gunna’ throw up,” Aizawa moans deliriously, sweat on his brow as he grows faint.

The brief conversation between you and Nemuri goes something like: “Is he okay? Do you need me to help?” and “It’s alright, I’ve got him. We’ll go outside for some air. I’ll text you if we need to leave.”

But all Aizawa hears is a deafening buzz before going limp in your arms as you gather him up.

“Ah, there he is,” your gentle voice rings clear now as Aizawa comes to.

He looks a little bewildered by your jacket being on him, but then as one thing after another comes into focus, his situation becomes less strange and he gathers that you’re sat on the steps out back.

“Have some more water, sweetheart,” you encourage, bringing the plastic cup to his flaky lips for him.

“Ugh, what’s that taste?” Aizawa grimaces when he realises how dry and acidic his mouth feels.

“You threw up,” you enlighten.

“Oh... th-thanks,” he mumbles as he takes the cup and swills his mouth out before downing the rest.

“Ready for home then?” you conclude as you get up and stretch your arms a little. “I’m actually pretty partied out,” you lie to spare him from that hang-dog expression that implies his guilt over dragging you away so soon.

“Yeah,” Aizawa sighs. “Gotta’ make sure you get home safe, right?” he reminds, managing a weary smile.

His knees buckle as he starts to stand, but you catch him just as faithfully as every other time.

“Come on, party animal,” you wink. “I’ll carry you.”

if you enjoyed this consider buying me a kofi ♡

#bnha reader insert #mha reader insert #reader x aizawa #reader x aizawa shouta #reader x eraserhead #gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort series #my wriiting

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justkeeptrekkin · 5 years

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Ineffable EraserMic

For all my BNHA and Good Omens fans, a crossover! 😇

but more specifically to the love of my life, @sraye96 . Happy birthday baby girl 💖🌻I hope you enjoy!!

***

He knows he’s an angel- not because of the white wings and white dress, but because he can practically smell the logic from here.

There’s the odd tree and palm leaf in the way, but Hizashi can see him, standing up on the wall. The material of his dress fluttering in the gentle breeze up above. Long curls of black hair pouring down his back, and white wings drooping- a bit lazily, which takes Hizashi by surprise, given how uptight angels usually are. Even from where Hizashi is perched on his branch down below, claws digging into the bark, he gives off an interesting vibe.

He’s curious.

Hizashi turns his gaze towards the inside of the garden; he can see Adam and Eve whispering, heads together. Then he looks back up at the angel. He reckons he can take a break from the tempting, for a short while.

With a few short, fast beats of his wings, he flies up onto the wall, beside the angel. And with a little effort, the colourful feathers shift into black, the beak morphs into a face, and blonde hair falls over his shoulders. All the while, the angel turns and looks at him, watching with nothing more than distant interest.

Hizashi sighs in satisfaction, rolling his shoulders and kicking out his legs. “Oh, man. It’s nice having actual legs again. I hate having claws.”

He looks at the angel. Two dark, strangely tired looking eyes stare back at him- look him up and down- then back out at the view beyond. And he doesn’t know why he feels disappointed- he supposes he’d hoped he’d get him to smile. That’s sort of his skill; tricking people into thinking he’s just a harmless bird, sort of funny, sort of entertaining. Having people underestimate him, until it’s too late.

The angel stares out at the desert, looking, for all intents and purposes, a little bored.

“You on duty too, then, huh?”

There’s the flicker of a frown- it looks like confusion rather than irritation, which is new to this famously irritating demon. The angel stares at him evenly. Not quite judgmentally, just- blankly.

Angels really give Hizashi the creeps sometimes.

“Obviously,” he replies in a low voice.

Hizashi blinks. “Wow. Your voice is totally more badass than I expected. It’s like- gravelly.”

“And you sound more like a children’s party entertainer than a demon.”

The burst of surprise isn’t anywhere near as strong as the thrill he’s experiencing. “Holy shit, and he’s a bitch, too! And listen, I like my voice. You can tell I was the fun angel back in the day, amiright? That’s why they cast me down, I was just too cool. Partied too hard.”

The blank look remains unchanged. He just stares, apparently unconvinced. “Right.”

They both turn away, gaze out at the rolling dunes. The sun setting slowly, and some clouds are forming above. The angel tilts his head upwards and watches the clouds gather with a weary look that says, there we go, thought that’d happen sometime soon.

“You managed to tempt them, then,” the angel says, catching Hizashi a little off guard.

“Oh- uh, yeah. I did. Although, less tempted them and more didn’t stop talking about it till I annoyed them into eating it.”

“Mm,” he replies, sounding unsurprised.

“And what about you- oh, shit, wait. I don’t even know your name.”

“Shouta.”

Hizashi smiles at how easily he parts with this information. It’s an evocative name: translating literally as to soar. Such a typically angelic name. Hizashi steps closer, trying to get a better view of the angel’s impartial expression. “Shouta. Well, how about you, Shouta? Did you do your good miracling stuff? Did you do some good deeds like a good boy?”

If Shouta is irritated by his mocking tone, he doesn’t show it. He simply replies, “Of course. That’s my job.”

“Damn. For a second, I could’ve sworn you were more interesting than that.”

The angel’s eyes flick up to the sky- and there’s the irritation. “Unsurprisingly, I don’t care whether you think I’m interesting.”

“I love it when we argue, talk dirty to me.”

“And you?”

“And me what, angel?”

“Your name. What’s your name.”

The easy, happy feeling that’s emerged from this banter dampens. He looks down at his human feet, folds his arms across his chest, then turns his head away.

“You’re not going to tell me.”

“I mean, why should I? I barely know you, man.”

“I told you mine.”

“Yuhuh, sure, but you didn’t have to. And I don’t have to tell you mine.”

They stand in awkward silence. Hizashi doesn’t like silence. That’s why he wakes Adam and Eve up every quiet morning with squawking. And the wind picks up a bit, the clouds getting darker and Hizashi’s hands grip his biceps tighter. The breeze whips up the black material of his dress so it dances like a shadow.

“Just call me Mic,” he says eventually.

There’s a beat, a short pause. “Mic it is.”

Maybe one day- maybe one day, he’ll tell him his angel name. Hizashi: sunshine. That’s what he was once, and he’s not quite ready to shuck that name yet. Not yet.

And it’s only then that he’s reminded- “Wait a sec. Yo. Dude. Shit, I’m so dumb, I knew you were missing something.”

The angel tenses, his previously tired and lazy stance setting like stone. The wind picks up the black curls of his hair, and his eyes stare stoically in the other direction.

“Yeah!” Hizashi continues. “You- you had a sword! I saw it the other day, it was all shiny and shit.”

“Shiny and shit,” Shouta echoes dully.

“Yeah! A flaming sword, plucked right from the sun. Right? Right? I’m right, aren’t I?” Right? Shouta?”

“Yes,” he growls.

Hizashi beams. Shouta won’t meet his eyes. “Shouta! What did you do with it, Shouta? Shouta? Shouta-?”

“Shut up.”

“Shouta? Shouta? Oh my- shit, fuck, man, wait, you lost your sword right? Don’t tell me you lost it- ho ho holy shit-”

“I gave it away.”

Hizashi feels his mouth hang open. Stares at him in pure delight. “You what?”

“I gave it away,” he says a little more loudly, but no less wearily. “They needed it. I didn’t. It was logical.”

“Log- logical? To get rid of a holy flaming sword? And give it to the humans?”

“I didn’t need it,” he repeats, jaw ticking impatiently.

“Oh my- fuck, you’re my hero right, you- do you know that? Like, you’ve literally blown my mind-”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It totally is! I thought you were like all the others, playing by the rules, but fuck, dude, you’re more punk than me! You like doing shit your own away, don’t you?”

That makes Shouta frown, a dark expression that’s somehow stormier than the clouds circulating overhead. And he turns sharply to glare at Hizashi with fierce, disapproving eyes. “I do what’s right. I do what’s best for humanity. It’s cruel not to give them the tools they need to survive. That’s how an angel is meant to be.”

“Meant to be,” Hizashi snorts. He adds a pfft and a wave of his hand. “Meant to be, shmeant to be. You’re an anarchist.”

“I’m not an anarchist. It was only-”

“Logical, yeah. I think you’re just soft.”

And that makes Shouta’s expression slacken, lips parting in quiet surprise. Then, it hardens again, defensive. “I’m not soft.”

“You- yeah, what’s not soft about giving a literal angelic, burning sword to two stupid stinky humans? Just to help them out a widdle teensy bit?”

“It’s my job to protect them-”

“No, it’s your job to follow the rules and act out the ineffable plan.”

He blinks at him. His expression hardens further. It’s not just stoicism, though- there’s a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Shut up,” he says.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, I never shut up. Sorry. I’m just sayin’ it how it is.”

That’s what got him into trouble with Heaven in the first place, and that’s how he’s keeping it.

They both look out into the desert again. Hizashi ruffles his wings, getting his feathers into a more comfortable position now that the wind has displaced them. Then-

“Oh! Look, look, see? There they are! Got your sword too! Shit, Adam’s got moves!”

They watch as Adam swings the sword at a lion, Eve cowering. Hizashi smirks, is about to make some comment like wouldn’t it be funny if I did the good thing and you did the bad thing. But when he sees Shouta’s certain, proud expression, he realises that joke wouldn’t hit a nerve at all. The angel knows what he’s done, and he knows he’s right.

He can see why Heaven chose this one to stay on Earth. He’s a pretty independent spirit. Probably works best alone, not following orders. Maybe they think he’d do a good job, maybe they just didn’t want him to cause trouble upstairs. Or maybe they were scared of him, and left him here- just like they left Hizashi in Hell.

When Shouta turns to find Hizashi staring, he moves his eyes away. This angel makes him self-conscious, like no one else ever has. Not in a bad way, he doesn’t think, it’s just that- he’s never cared about how other people judge him. Not even God, really. But for some reason, around Shouta, he wants to impress.

That ain’t good, Hizashi thinks to himself.

And then it begins to rain, at last. Big, fat rain drops, leaving wet circles on the stone of the wall. Making the leaves bounce with loud splats and darkening the sand below. Hizashi grimaces, scrunches up his face and feels his blonde hair sticking to his face.

“Ew,” he grumbles.

He hears a snort. He turns to look. And he finds a huge, terrifying, and quite frankly demonic grin.

“You look like a drowned rat,” Shouta says mildly, smile softening.

“So do you!”

“I don’t care about getting wet. You just look pissed off about it. It’s funny.”

“Asshole,” Hizashi spits.

That somehow makes him smile again, though not as maniacally this time. Annoying, that the only time Hizashi has managed to make him smile has been unintentionally.

And then, Shouta extends a wing over Hizashi’s head- looking the other way as if ignoring the action.

And something in Hizashi swells, bursts, is brought back to life. Something in him that he thought had died in the fall, something that feels remarkably like love. It’s reinvigorated when he looks at Shouta turning away, a petulant pout on his lips like he doesn’t want to admit he’s being nice to a demon.

Yeah, that ain’t good, Hizashi remarks to himself once more.

Nonetheless, he accepts the wing. He steps under it. He looks away from Shouta, out at the view.

And he sees it; he sees a future laid out before him. He sees the inevitability, the ineffability of it. He sees six thousand years on Earth with Shouta ahead of him, and all he can do is prepare for the ride.

#bnha #erasermic #good omens #aizawa shouta #ineffable husbands #yamada hizashi #my writing #raye friend

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blxckdamask · 5 years

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Trashcan’s Fic Rec

So since it's the end of May, I thought it would be nice to rec some of my favourite fics I've read throughout the month. Most of these are BNHA since that's what I’m into now lmao. I’m doing this instead of writing the 5 fics I have planned and I havent posted in like 3 weeks oops.

Bakudeku Fics:

Izuku and Katsuki, better known to the world as the Wonder Duo: Deku and Kacchan. The married hero couple finally adopted their first child together, a bouncing baby boy. Luckily, they're on paternity leave for one year (thank god), so they can bond with their son as much as possible. They're going to be the best damn daddies and go beyond PLUS ULTRA!

Alternatively titled: The Entire Goddamn School Gives Up On Trying To Understand These Two & Aizawa is Really Tired.

Izuku and Bakugou had a long and complicated history, but most of the school was pretty sure that they understood where the two currently stood as rivals. Then Izuku's dad showed up on campus and everyone's preconceptions were mercilessly thrown out the window. In which Bakugou tries to murder a man, has a soft side and convinces his entire class the twilight zone is real.

Ft. Part 2: Turns out Izuku and Bakugou will work together willingly if given proper motivation. Endeavor showing up for a training exercise apparently qualifies. Aizawa is really tired of these children not asking for help and everyone else is absolutely terrified (and secretly very glad these two don't work together more often).

In complete honesty, no one who knows the Class 3-A should be surprised anymore. Izuku is asleep.

In which Izuku is hit by a ‘Sleeping Beauty’ Quirk, Class 3-A tries to find his True Love and get them to kiss him, and Katsuki’s very angry about it all.

Izuku is hospitalized after a nasty fight. Katsuki finally visits.

In which Izuku worries that his and Katsuki’s relationship has become too domestic, and Katsuki proves him right. Not that either of them are complaining.

Todobaku Fics:

Everytime his doorbell rings at 3am, Todoroki knows exactly who is it.

Bakugou brings home a stray box full of kittens for his and Shouto’s one year anniversary.

Shouto’s eyes light up in a way that rivals every star in the galaxy, and the past year falls to pieces. “You’re Katsuki.”

With staggered breath, he replies, “You remember me?”

“Of course I do,” Shouto says, “You’re my boyfriend.”

---

Todoroki Shouto gets amnesia and remembers only two things: 1) his name, and 2) that he's dating Bakugou Katsuki.

The only problem is, they broke up a year ago.

“Katsuki, your soulmate is someone who will always be by your side. They will be someone who completes you. Together, you will make an unstoppable force.”

AU where Bakugou and Todoroki are soulmates and Bakugou is in denial.

Shouto is looking at the damn vent like he’s about to make a break for it. “It’s not, um, what it looks-” “It’s exactly what it looks like,” Katsuki cuts across, his voice losing its bite. Shouto flinches, and silence spreads between them like the frost on Shouto’s fingers.

- - -

Shouto Todoroki and Katsuki Bakugo are tired of their marriage.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not letting you go. I quite like being in my own body.” Todoroki's next breath comes out icy cold, and Katsuki leans as far back as their joint hands will allow.

“Are you fucking hearing yourself?” he sputters, feeling heat crawl up his neck to his ears.

(or: bakugou and todoroki get hit by a body swap quirk, and physical contact seems to be the only answer to their predicament)

The first time Bakugou told Todoroki he was in love with him, he thought he’d die.

“What would their relationship have been like, if Bakugou’s pride hadn’t stood in the way? Would they have been friends, or would things have mostly stayed the same? Would Bakugou have been happier, more open and honest about his feelings and wants and needs as a person? Would he have accepted and even appreciated the comfort others offered him, rather than always keeping people at arm’s-length in an effort to maintain an image of independence and strength?

Todoroki didn’t know.

He didn’t know. But he wanted to.

Abruptly, like a bolt of lightning, he realized he actually had the chance to find out.”

(Or: that one where Bakugou has temporary amnesia and Todoroki is tasked with caring for him until his memory returns, but ends up falling in love with the part of Bakugou that Bakugou has always kept hidden away instead.)

“English tea, right?” He asked. The man in front of him stared, unsure of how to interact with the handsome, blonde man. This, of course, annoyed Bakugou. “Speak, moron.” He said harsher. Todoroki continued looking at him. He probably doesn’t speak sign language. He reached towards the left end of the counter and grabbed a paper menu. Searching quickly, Todoroki found the English tea, and pointed to it.

Kacchako Fics:

Her hands found his. She breathed out. Her breath smelled like Listerine, it made Katsuki wrinkle his nose at her.

“I’m pregnant.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened and he stared at her, his mouth opening. “Oh shit. Shit, whoa, okay, wow.” His hands unclasped from hers and traveled down to her stomach. “Ochako, wow.” Not even an hour ago he was convinced his girlfriend was breaking up with him. His mind couldn’t completely wrap around what was happening, but he couldn’t stop looking at his girlfriend in awe. He kissed her forehead, a smacking kiss with a “mwah” sound that had Ochako rolling her eyes and cuddling closer to him. “You’re pregnant.”

“I am.” Ochako agreed, her voice steady and confidant.

Katsuki licked his dry lips. His mind was racing. “Cool.”

Broken down and humiliated after her crushing defeat in the Sports Festival, Uraraka just wants to sleep off her injuries in the infirmary. She didn't expect to get a very loud and very angry roommate for the night.

(A Kacchako one shot that turned into a love story.)

Other Fics:

Five times Hizashi feels like a burden to Shouta and one time he finally snaps with Shouta by his side to pick up the pieces.

Hizashi is all too aware that they’re polar opposites, Shouta being the calm to his storm, the quiet to his loud exuberance. Shouta, who’s at his most content curled up on the couch in their shared living room, or anywhere, really, napping or idly playing with their two cats while Hizashi’s busy going through his ever-growing music library, bothering Shouta for his opinion before adding the songs that have gained his friend’s grudging approval to whatever new playlist that he’s working on.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t leave him alone and, miraculously, Shouta’s been tolerating him for fifteen years.

He hopes to God that it hasn’t become an obligation.

Morgan doesn’t really know Captain America.

What if Remus and Sirius realised Harry was being abused? What if all Dumbledore’s careful plans were pulled apart by the power he relied on most of all?

After the Triwizard Tournament, a traumatised Harry admits he can't go back to Privet Drive. Sirius and Remus refuse to submit to Dumbledore's plan and take him back to Grimmauld Place with them, where they must learn how to live together, how to care for one another, and how to trust one another. After so long, can they build a family together? Will they even have a chance when a war rages outside their door? And can the prophecy ever be fulfilled?

#fic rec #monthy fic rec #bakudeku #todobaku #kacchako #erasermic #stony #wolfstar #drarry #bnha #mcu #Harry Potter

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