•_•

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re turned away from the entrance, unaware, or unconcerned with the world behind you.

Your arms are folded atop one another, resting against the smooth stones lining the water’s edge, chin settled into the cradle of your forearms. Your hair is twisted into a neat bun, kept intentionally dry.

Your eyes are closed and your breathing even. It's all so amazing.

The water was just hot enough to sting, but not enough to burn. The rocks beneath your elbows were smooth, probably manufactured to be this way. They are blocky rocks that outline the bath. It's pretty scenery when you look at the full picture.

Except for the gigantic wooden wall.

It’s the students' second year, a return visit to the Wild Wild Pussycats’ lodge. This time there’s no Vlad King, just you and Aizawa overseeing the chaos. You didn't get to come last year, and you wish you had.

Not only because everyone was ambushed and someone got kidnapped, but because you liked visiting new places with people you know.

Distant laughter echoed from the camp, students, probably. Mandalay’s crew always had energy to spare, even after a full day of training.

You didn’t turn to look. The water was too good, the silence too rare. A dragonfly skated across the surface, its wings catching the faint glow of the lanterns strung along the path.

You just felt so lazy right now. So calm, your eyes closed. You wondered what would happen if you fell asleep here. Your body is submerged save for your shoulders and neck, heat sinking deep into muscle and bone. The water laps quietly, patient.

No one has seen you all day. You'd honestly like to keep it that way, just for today. But quiet footsteps shift the air. The faintest creak of wood beneath careful weight. Someone has entered. They're unnervingly silent. Anybody else wouldn't have heard them at all.

You don’t open your eyes, don’t move, but the presence lingers, yet saying nothing.

Aizawa steps inside the sauna the way he steps into most places.

Unannounced and untracked. Presence registering only after it’s already there. Heat settles over him immediately. Steam is surrounding the entire area. It's almost eerie.

He stops.

You’re in the water.

He hadn’t expected that. He registers it distantly, that he hasn’t seen you all day, that a corner of his mind had noted the absence and dismissed it as nothing urgent. You’re capable. You always are. Still, the sight of you here stills him.

He stands there unmoving, absorbing the sight: you, half submerged in golden lit water, skin flushed from heat, bare shoulders and back facing him. Your hair is still dry, twisted neatly in a very pretty way, as if you anticipated this moment. Planned it just to be looked at. Ridiculous thought.

He exhales slowly. Worry had prickled at him earlier when he hadn't heard from you all day. But he didn't think too much of it. He knew you were safe wherever you wandered off to.

You’re turned away, folded in on yourself, arms stacked neatly atop the stone rim, chin resting there.

Your eyes are closed.

You look like a mirage, silhouette bathed in the warm atmosphere. A painting dipped in lantern light. Steam rising and falling. So distant, briefly untouchable.

You look dreamy.

He should leave, but he won’t.

Your lips part on a sigh, and you tilt your head more to lay your cheek flat on your arm. His gaze never leaves you, lingering too long before he tries to pretend there's a rational reason he's staring. You as a whole seems like a pretty good reason to be honest.

He should say something.

But you won't even acknowledge him. He knows you heard him, your perceptive in that way.

"You're alive," he says finally. Not a question or something that needs answering. It's not quite relief. He just wants to hear you, evaluate anything from you that will tell him what's up without him having to ask.

You only hum.

Now what.

There was a pause, long enough to be intentional. Then came the soft scrape of his steps drawing closer. You could hear the gentle drag of his towel as he moved, feel the shift in the air as he crouched beside you, just close enough that his shadow spilled across the water.

“You’ve been hard to find lately,” Aizawa’s voice sounded from behind you. Always with that familiar worn out edge, he always carried. It was distinctive and unique to his character. You liked it.

Your back straightened, your shoulder bones popping. Your shoulders tensed, but you didn’t turn.

You stared ahead, expression unreadable, breath slow. Your body felt tired, like breaths were tedious work you had to perform. You might've been just as worn out as him.

The sky was a nice shade tonight, one of your favorite blues, but you weren't really looking at it. You weren’t really looking at anything.

“Maybe you’re not looking hard enough,” you said, voice dulled, lacking bite. The words weren’t meant to sting. Your voice was so shallow, but only because the heat made you too lazy to project your voice.

Aizawa exhaled sharply through his nose, something between a scoff and a sigh. The scent of damp earth clung to him. He’d been outside. Probably checking the perimeter or scouting for sneaky kids out past dark. Always working.

"You missed dinner," he said. The lantern light caught the scar under his eye, making it gleam like a crescent moon. A cute sideways one. You know he hates it though.

You flexed your toes underwater, watching the ripples distort your reflection. "Wasn’t hungry," you lied.

The truth was simpler: you’d wanted this, the weightless silence, the way the heat turned your thoughts syrupy and slow. No students asking for advice, no status reports or people looking at you. Expecting from you.

Just the ache in your muscles dissolving like sugar in tea. You really just needed alone time. Some relaxation.

His gaze was tracing the curve of your shoulder, the dip of your spine where steam clung to damp skin.

Aizawa exhaled sharply, unsure what to make of you.

"You're avoiding the question," he muttered, voice gravelly with exhaustion, or maybe something else entirely. You could never know with him.

You started thinking about how nice this lighting highlights his features. His strong and sharp features.

"You didn't ask one. I can't read your thoughts, Eraser, " you said, smiling before shoving your face into your arms.

"Right," he mumbled.

He wasn't so clear in his statements about what he was really asking. He couldn't bring himself to invade your space, though. Possibly cross a boundary or shove his presence onto you.

He was still considering just leaving you to continue doing your thing. Talk tomorrow maybe, whatever you feel like doing. He didnt care.

Well, he used to not care.

You tilted your head, letting your lips curl into something teasing. "Did you miss me?" you asked playfully, lifting your head to peer up at him.

But turns out he was already staring, crouched on one of the rocks beside the bath, balanced effortlessly on the balls of his feet. He'd moved closer without you realizing.

His dark eyes didn't waver, scanning your face like he was jotting down every detail of you. It was nerve-racking.

You couldn't handle his eyes. His eyes. Oh god.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Annoyingly so," he admitted, quiet enough that the words almost sounded regretted as soon as he said it.

You swallowed, embarrassment creeping uncomfortably into your chest.

You wanted to plant your head into your elbow fold again and wish him away. But this moment was already unfolding. He was right beside you, close enough that you could hear him breathe. Close enough that you could feel the weight of his attention, heavily intimate in the moment.

It gave you shivers because he didn't treat many like this. Nobody, really. It was rare and therefore heartwarming to you.

You were afraid to turn your head again, because lately Aizawa’s dark eyes had started pulling at something inside you. You couldnt name it. It was unknown and sudden.

His thumb brushed absently over the scar under his eye, a nervous habit you'd cataloged months ago. "You weren't answering your phone."

"Mm, im sorry. I put it down hours ago" you hum. Voice soft and delicate, your eyes flicking over to him before closing.

The warmth made everything so lazyyyy

Water sloshed as you turned fully toward him, your pace slow as honey. His gaze dropped to your collarbones where water made them shine, then jerked back up as you spoke.

"You could join me."

Silence once again, stretching like taffy. He was thinking, obviously telling by his love of silence. Silence that continued until a distant explosion rocked the mountainside.

Sounds like Bakugo. It's 9:32 p.m. Past that kids bedtime.

Aizawa's shoulders tensed automatically, but his eyes never left yours.

"Later," he rasped, and the word seemed like a promise. You watched his shadow ripple across the water as he stood, suddenly very aware of how empty the space beside you felt. How alone you'd be once again the moment he decides to leave.

Another explosion, closer this time. His sigh was almost lost beneath the sound of students screaming, joy or terror, hard to tell. "Duty calls," you murmured, lips curving when he shot you a look that said this is your job too.

He turned to leave, but he paused when your fingers grabbed his wrist. "Bring snacks," you said, sinking back into the water until it kissed your chin.

He rolled his eyes, but still murmered a "ok" before walking off, hands deep in his pockets.

The distant explosion cuts through the quiet of the countryside. Bakugo, of course, had managed to wander again, drawn by the mountains, the training grounds, or sheer impatience.

Aizawa’s eyes snap to the sound once he reaches the area. He doesn’t hesitate. “Bakugo,” he calls, voice monotone clipped, carrying with an authority that brooks no argument.

The blond appears a moment later, crouched atop a boulder, chest heaving from exertion. He glares, defiance brimming, hands fisted. “What!?”

“Outside alone at this hour. Not acceptable,” Aizawa says, rubbing his temple ready to walk away. He's seen this fiery face too many times today. “Come inside, now.”

Bakugo opens his mouth, probably to argue, but the sharp the tilt of Aizawa's blazing red eyes are enough. He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. The boy’s scowl falters. He hops down, boots crunching against gravel, retreating toward the lodge.

“You’re lucky I don’t ground you for the next week,” Aizawa adds, without raising his voice. Bakugo grunts, mutters something under his breath, and vanishes into the students' housing.

With the immediate chaos contained, Aizawa lets himself exhale, the tension in his shoulders loosening fractionally.

He checks the perimeter of the camp again. Eyes scanning the treeline, hands brushing along the fence, ears catching every faint noise. Stalling honestly.

His mind not fully present. Part of him is still in the sauna, replaying the sight of you in the warm water, the lazy tilt of your head, the careless perfection of your being.

He’s irritated with himself, for staying too long, for letting his gaze linger, for thinking about you in a way he doesn’t allow himself normally. He clenches and unclenches his fists over and over again as he thinks. Continously going over it again and again in his head of what he feels about you.

This feeling isn’t just worry as duty anymore. Not the professional edge of concern that comes with chaperoning second years and getting along with coworkers turned friends. This is… different. He can’t name it neatly, and he doesn’t try.

He notices a small pantry of snacks he knows you like, he grabs one without thinking. Not just because you asked, because it’s him finding a way back to you. A tether to something he knows is fleeting. Something worth protecting.

You. His relationship to you.

He returns to the sauna quietly, still unnervingly silent, carrying the snack wrapped neatly in his hand. The steam swirls, curling around his dark frame.

You're asleep, or at least slumped forward, limbs loose, shoulders resting against the water’s edge.

He doesn’t hesitate when he quickens his pace.

You could drown. His brows furrow when he imagines how tired you must be, yet wont just go to bed.

He kneels beside you, placing the snack carefully on the stone rim within reach. One hand nudges your shoulder gently. “Hey,” he murmurs, loud enough to cut through the haze of sleep.

Your eyelids flutter. You groan softly, disoriented.

“Careless,” he says quietly, a faint sigh escaping him. “Don’t do this again Y/n.”

The words aren’t harsh. Scolding yes. But he's only concerned.

You blink at him, still hazy, just catching sight of the snack and the seriousness in his eyes. The steam curls between you golden and intimate, and he watches unblinking as you gather yourself.

You realize with a slow, sinking clarity that he hasn’t blinked since you woke. His gaze is fixed, but his jaw is tight enough that you can see the muscle jump.

Your fingers draw circles across the stones you lay your arms on, nails scraping lightly against its surface.

Aizawa hesitates, his fingers hovering just above the water’s surface. Then, wordlessly, he dips his hands in, hissing sharply through his teeth as the heat sears his skin.

You smile lazily. "You’re getting in?" You ask, hopeful.

His gaze flicks to yours. "Mmm, maybe," he says, but seeing your smile helps set his mind.

Aizawa stands. His knees pop from crouching too long, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, just jerks his chin toward the changing rooms. "Don’t drown while I’m gone," he mutters, already turning away.

You don’t bother hiding your smirk. "Wouldn’t dream of it," you murmur, sinking deeper into the water until your lips brush the surface.

He pauses mid step, shoulders stiffening like he’s debating whether to turn back. But he doesn’t. Just exhales sharply - almost a laugh, if Aizawa ever laughed - and disappears into the dim hallway.

You watch the empty space where he stood a moment too long, listening to the faint creak of floorboards under his weight. The changing room was connected to the building like a room, but the only entrance was from outside. The door a simple heavy curtain.

Even now, he moves like a shadow. The thought makes your stomach tighten.

You imagine him behind it. Peeling off his layers, being this close to you naked! It was so giggle worthy to think about. But you wouldn't dare, he would hear you.

The way his hands would hesitate at the waistband of his trunks, just for a second, because this isn’t routine. To relax in a sauna at midnight, not when there's things to do tomorrow.

You press your forehead to the warm stone and grin.

A rustle of fabric. A hissed curse, probably stubbing his toe. You bite your lip to keep from laughing. The man could take down villains without breaking a sweat, but navigating a cramped changing room in the dark? Apparently his one weakness.

When he finally emerges, you don’t turn. Don’t need to. His shadow falls across the water first, long and lean, distorted by the ripples. Then his voice, dry as ever: "Move over."

You shift just enough to make room as he lowers himself in. The water sloshes, scalding against his thighs, and he grits his teeth. "Christ," he mutters, gripping the edge of the pool. "How are you not boiled alive?"

"Takes practice," you say, watching the way his muscles tense as he adjusts.

He's wearing long swimming trunks. Seemingly uncomfortable by how exposed he was. You doubt he ever undresses like this unless it's to shower, or maybe sleep.

He recalls just how lazy you are and how you probably have done this many times.

The trunks sit low on his hips, clinging to the sharp angles of his frame. So appetizing. Fuck you could almost die, he made you so thirsty. His abs, his biceps. His entire torso in general, you wanted to see his back desperately.

He catches you looking but doesn’t comment, just leans back until the water laps at his collarbones.

You watch his throat move as he swallows.

Then, without looking at you: "You’re staring."

"Mm." You tilt your head, unrepentant. "Problem?"

He exhales through his nose. Rolling his eyes playfully pretending annoyance. "No."

The night hums around you, cicadas, distant laughter of students who shouldn't be out. You nudge his foot underwater.

Aizawa watches you. His gaze lingers on the curve of your shoulder, the way your hair clings to your neck. When he speaks again, his voice is rougher than before. "You should eat."

He nods toward the forgotten snack.

"Later," you say, echoing his earlier promise.

“You do that often,” he says after a while.

You hum again, noncommittal. “Do what.”

“Disappear.” He says. Not accusing. Just… factual. Like he’s naming a weather pattern. “You go quiet. No phone. No trace. And then you reappear like nothing happened.” His fingers trail absently along the water’s surface, sending tiny ripples outward.

You tilt your head, cheek resting against the warm stone. “I come back.”

“That’s not the part that bothers me.” His eyes slim as they flick to yours.

You hold his gaze, unflinching. The heat makes your skin prickle, or maybe it’s the weight of his attention. “Then what does?”

Aizawa exhales exasperated. His shoulders sink deeper into the water. “You don’t tell anyone.”

He continues, voice hesitating now, “Not even me.”

The words hang there, suspended in the humid air. You watch a droplet slide down his temple, tracing the sharp line of his jaw before disappearing into the water.

“Would it help?” you ask softly.

He doesn’t answer immediately. His fingers tap rhythmically on the stone, mimicking you. “I don’t know.”

It’s the honesty that catches you off guard. Aizawa isn’t a man who admits uncertainty. Your fingers curl slightly against the edge of the bath. You don’t look at him. If you do, you might say too much.

“You don’t need to keep tabs on me,” you say lightly. Too lightly. “I’m not one of your students.”

“I know,” he answers.

You shift, water sloshing gently as you turn to face him fully. His eyes track the movement, lingering on the way your collarbones rise above the surface. “I don’t do it to worry you,” you say.

“I know.” He replies quickly.

The cicadas hum outside, their song weaving through the silence. You reach for the forgotten snack, peeling the wrapper. The scent of roasted seaweed fills the space between you.

Aizawa watches your hands, the careful way you break it in in half. You offer him a piece without a word.

He takes it. His fingers brush yours, too simple to be noteworthy.

“Next time,” you say, popping the other half into your mouth, “I’ll leave a note.”

He scoffs, but there’s no real bite to it. “No you wont.”

“You’re right.” You grin, licking salt from your thumb. “But it’s the thought that counts.”

Aizawa rolls his eyes, but something in his posture eases. He leans back, tilting his head to stare at the sky. Steam curls around him, softening his edges.

You watch him again. Shamelessly so, just staring up at him. Your elbows now propped up behind you against the stones.

“You’re staring again,” he mutters, not opening his eyes.

“Mm.” You sink lower, until the water kisses your chin. “Problem?”

His lips twitch. “No.”

Aizawa’s hand drifts closer underwater, his pinky brushing yours. You don’t pull away.

The water rippled as your toes skimmed his ankle bone. Aizawa's eyelids lowered fractionally, tracking the movement beneath the surface like a predator assessing prey. You grinned, all teeth, and hooked your foot around his calf, tugging just hard enough to upset his balance.

For one glorious second, his shoulders dipped beneath the water, droplets catching in his lashes as he jerked forward. His hands shot out, palms slapping against the stone rim to steady himself. When he glared, the heat in his gaze had nothing to do with the sauna.

"Problem?" you asked sweetly, kicking gently to drift backward away from him.

Water sluiced down his chest as he straightened, "Dangerous, Y/n," he muttered, but not in irritation. Nowhere near irritated.

You hummed, trailing your fingertips along the water's surface. "For you, yes."

His shadow loomed over you before you registered him moving. You brought your knees up to bracket his hips beneath the water. He looked down at you, utterly shocked. He didn't move, not even an inch. His hands gripped the bools edges, unsure where to put them. Does he touch you? You made the first move...

He doesn’t know what to do. He's too afraid to ruin this.

Heat radiated from his skin, or maybe that was just your blood rushing south. "Your pushing your luck," he repeated, voice gravel rough.

"Oh?" You lifted yourself higher with your hands around his neck, pushing yourself against him, relishing the way his breath hitched. "Show me."

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. Cicadas screamed outside. Somewhere distant, a student shrieked. Kaminari, probably, discovering that yes, electricity and water do mix.

Then Aizawa's mouth slowly inched close enough to land into yours, all teeth and desperation once the hesitence disappeared, your compliance a nice yes for his risky act. The salt-tang of seaweed still clinging to his lips.

He figured that if you were risky pulling this on him, why not do the same?

You stopped in place for a moment. Just barely registering what was happening. Then you allowed your fingers to twist in his hair.

His hands slid down to grip your hips and the skin that folded there with your legs raised, hauling you flush against him. Closer then earlier. Water sloshed over the rim, soaking the towel he'd discarded earlier. Neither of you cared.

When he finally pulled back, your lungs burned. His lips glistened, pupils blown wide. "That was your one free pass." He rasped.

You laughed, breathless. "Generous."

He nipped your earlobe in retaliation, sending sparks down your spine. "Shut up."

Aizawa could be this flirty? It was such a shock, you weren't sure who you brought out in him. But you loved it.

The snack wrapper floated forgotten nearby, bobbing like a tiny boat in the aftermath of your recklessness. Aizawa's fingers traced idle patterns along your hipbone underwater, each brush igniting fresh shivers. You pressed your forehead to his collarbone, inhaling cedar and chlorine and him.

"You're still staring," he murmured, thumbing the curve of your shoulder.

"Mm." You kissed the scar above his eyebrow "Problem?"

His chest vibrated with something too quiet to be a laugh. "No."

He held you against him, his body leaned against the edge of the pool to hold your weight. His chin topping your crown after you laid your head in the crook of his neck.

You closed your eyes.