stalker of my love

♡ MASTERLIST DIRECTORY

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

my hero academia

Too early (Aizawa x reader) 18+

A chaotic mission (Aizawa x reader) 18+

Just one bed (Bakudekutodo) 18+

Thermal strategy (Bakudeku)

Bath bubbles (Bakudeku)

Shared custody (Bakudeku)

Word counter: 676

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The shop buzzed with murmurs and glittering displays — an exclusive pre-sale, open only to those with connections to hero agencies or people who worked close to the industry.

Among all the shine, one figure stood out in the center: All Might, Super Limited Edition, complete with a real fabric cape from his golden age in the U.S., a rotating base, and a golden signature. There was only one.

They both saw it at the same time.

“Don’t you dare, nerd,” Bakugou growled, quickening his pace.

“Kacchan! I saw it first!” Deku protested, almost bumping into him in front of the glass case.

“Liar! My eyes reflected on it before yours!”

“That’s not how sight works!” Izuku shot back, tone half-scolding, half-panicked.

“Then learn how losing works, nerd!” Bakugou snapped, ignoring him with Olympic-level arrogance.

The shop clerk behind the counter stared at them with a face that said “there’s no way these two are top heroes.”

“I could put it on hold if you give me a name,” he tried to say.

“It’s mine!” they shouted at the same time, each trying to out-volume the other.

Bakugou crossed his arms, frowning. “You’ve got way too many All Might figures at home, nerd. Don’t be a creepy collector.” His annoyed, superior tone made the freckled boy pout.

“And you’d just hide it because you’re too proud!”

People nearby were quietly laughing as they went on arguing like kids.

Seeing the clerk about to step in, Deku sighed and lowered his voice. “We could share it, you know…”

Bakugou looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Share it? What is this, joint custody of figurines? You senseless nerd.”

“It could stay at your place a few days… then mine.”

“And what if it breaks while you move it, huh? You want me to hold a funeral for it?”

Deku smiled, that little sparkle in his eyes that always disarmed Bakugou. “Then we’ll just have to be extra careful, Kacchan.”

Bakugou bit his tongue, trying not to react. “Tch… ridiculous.” He pulled out his card and handed it to the clerk without looking. “I’ll pay.”

“Kacchan!” Izuku protested with a tiny pout.

“It stays at my place. If you wanna see it… you’ll have to come over.”

Deku blinked, surprised, then smiled softly. “Then… I guess I’ll be coming over often.”

“Do what you want, nerd,” Bakugou muttered, looking away while the cashier carefully packed the figure — silently thanking every god that those two were finally leaving.

When they stepped out, bag in hand, Bakugou mumbled so quietly Deku barely caught it: “If you’re gonna show up that often… might as well bring your stuff.”

Deku froze for a second, his heart skipping. “Was that an invitation, Kacchan?” he asked, shocked he didn’t stutter.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, idiot!” Bakugou barked, red to his ears.

Word counter: 473

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The clock was nearing eleven when Bakugou arrived at the apartment he shared with his boyfriend.

His hero uniform was a mess—torn, stained with dark patches, his hair disheveled, and exhaustion so clear on his face that he didn’t even complain as he usually would when closing the door.

From the hallway, Deku greeted him with a smile and a folded towel in his hands.“Welcome home, Kacchan.”

Bakugou looked at him with one eyebrow raised, suspicious of his unusual behavior; normally he would have already thrown himself at him for a kiss.

“Why are you smiling like that, nerd? What did you do?”

“Nothing…” Deku replied, sounding suspiciously innocent. “I just thought you could use a relaxing bath after a hard day at work.

”Bakugou frowned, but then he caught a sweet, warm scent coming from the bathroom: flowers and…?

“Did you put bubbles in it?” he asked warily.

“And essential oils,” Deku added proudly. “It’s lavender, it helps you sleep.

”“Do you think I’m some old lady?” Bakugou grumbled, though he was already taking off his gloves.

Deku giggled, handing him the towel—Bakugou noticed it had All Might’s face on it.

“No, but I know your back hurts. I saw on TV when that villain slammed you into that wall. Besides, the water’s the perfect temperature.

”Bakugou stared at him for a long second… then sighed, defeated.“If this doesn’t help, I’m killing you.”

“I promise I didn’t poison the tub,” Deku said, almost laughing.

Bakugou went in reluctantly, but a while later, Deku heard a quiet murmur from inside:“Tch… that damn nerd really knows how to help someone relax.

”When he went to bring him a glass of water, he found him half asleep among the foam, hair falling over his forehead, head resting on the edge of the tub. A bubble was stuck to his nose.

Deku couldn’t help but smile.“Kacchan… you look so peaceful like this.”

“Shut up. I’m only doing this because I’m fucking exhausted,” Bakugou muttered without opening his eyes.

Deku set the glass down and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead.“It’s okay, I know.”

A few seconds of silence passed… then Bakugou mumbled, half-asleep, “Next time… don’t put so many damn bubbles, idiot. I can’t even see my hands.

”Deku laughed quietly, sitting down beside the tub and running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair.

“Okay, Kacchan. Fewer bubbles.”

Word counter: 368

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Winter had crept into the bones of this pair of heroes, and the heater fought desperately to keep a spark of warmth alive in the room.

Under the blankets, two heroes with very different temperature problems were trying to survive the freezing night.

Deku, curled up with cheeks flushed from the heat, sighed contentedly. “Ahh… this feels so nice, right, Kacchan?”

“No.” Bakugou’s voice came, indignant, from the other side of the bed. “You’re roasting me alive, damn green furnace.

”Deku laughed softly, barely moving. “Then why are you so close to me?”

“Because if I move away from your stupid ass, I’ll freeze to death,” Bakugou grumbled, shamelessly scooting closer. He slid his icy feet under Deku’s legs.

“Kacchan! That’s freezing!” Deku squealed, squirming with laughter as he tried—unsuccessfully—to push his boyfriend away.

“Thermal strategy,” Bakugou said seriously, wrapping an arm around him to stop him from escaping. “Shut up and share the heat, nerd.

”Deku was still laughing, his eyes half-closed with more fondness than annoyance.“If you keep hugging me like this, you’re gonna end up sleeping on top of me.”

“Better that than dying of hypothermia because of you,” Bakugou muttered, burying his face against Deku’s neck. His voice dropped, drowsy and quiet. “Besides… you smell nice.

”Deku was about to ask why it was his fault in the first place, but those last words froze him in place. Then he smiled softly. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing. Shut up. Sleep.”

Bakugou thought he’d finally fallen asleep, until he heard a quiet, amused whisper: “Thermal strategy approved, Kacchan.”

Bakugou grunted something unintelligible but didn’t move an inch.In fact, he pulled him a little closer.

Silence settled over them; the wind still howled outside, but inside, only the steady rhythm of their breathing filled the room.Deku’s head rested on Bakugou’s chest, and without realizing it, Bakugou’s arm tightened around him.

A chaotic mission

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, Vaginal Sex, Riding/Cowgirl Position, teacher x student, doubtful consent on both sides, older man and 18-year-old girl, dirty Talk and rough sex word counter: 3k Note: The reader is old enough, don't worry. ━━━━━━━━☆★☆━━━━━━━━ Aizawa and you are trapped in a small space on a mission, while being affected by an excitation quirk. ━━━━━━━━☆★☆━━━━━━━━ The battle in the mountains was bigger than anticipated, with more villains than had been recorded as attending that meeting.

A group of more than 15 heroes of different types, including some of the top 20, were on a secret capture and collection mission in the mountains several kilometers from the city of Masutafu. Two groups of villains were to meet that day to do business with classified information stolen from the public heroes commission.

You, despite still being a student at UA, had been chosen to assist in this mission, as your vibrant surget quirk was needed to open a way for the heroes to enter a small gorge at the edge of the mountains, which would serve as a safe ambush site.

Your quirk allowed you to generate waves of vibrations, which spread like a chain, trapping and infecting whatever they touched like a vibration virus. These could be used against humans, but it was risky, as the vibrations could damage people's internal organs.

Aizawa and you were near the rear entrance of the compound, waiting to see if any villains managed to escape the main confrontation and get past the other heroes. “This is boring... Why can't I be on the front line...?” “Aizawa-kun?” you said with disappointment and a mocking tone in the last word, balancing your weight on a small burst of vibrations that you used as a seat, which left your feet a few inches off the ground.

“Say that to me again and I'll expel you,” Aizawa replied without looking at you, his voice low, tired, and sharp.

You rolled your eyes, holding back a sigh. After all this and all your previous attempts at teasing flirtation, you were only met with flat rejection.

A roar followed by a bang put them on alert. The air became thick, laden with dust and a metallic smell that burned your throat.

Aizawa reacted immediately, stepping forward to cover you with his bandages while you contained the vibrations under your feet.

Through the smoke, a silhouette moved with slow, confident steps. A villain with messy hair, his face partially covered by a filter mask and a smile too calm for the chaos around him.

The ground creaked. An invisible pulse spread through the air, barely perceptible... but enough.

You felt it first: a tingling sensation on your skin, a heat rising from your chest to your throat. Your breathing quickened without you being able to help it.

“What... was that?” you asked, bringing a hand to your neck.

Aizawa narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening. “Damn it. I know that quirk,” he muttered.

The villain raised his head, watching them with curiosity, almost amused. “Shota Aizawa? What a surprise. I didn't expect to meet you here.”

Aizawa didn't respond, but his body tensed. “His name is Eros, an ex-convict from Hosu Prison.” His voice was firm, rapid, almost as if he were reciting a report. His quirk alters the dopaminergic functions of the nervous system. It manipulates desire and arousal..."

“And it doesn't discriminate who it affects,” you said, your voice trembling as the heat continued to spread beneath your skin.

“Exactly. Neither enemies nor allies,” Aizawa nodded, looking away from you with effort. Eros smiled.

Two more figures emerged behind him: one with arms covered in bone plates and another with a device on his face that emitted sound pulses. Both seemed affected by the quirk; their movements were erratic.

“I should kill them,” said the villain, his voice distorted by the mask. “But since they're here, I'll make them forget why they came.”

A second wave, invisible but felt in the vibration of the air just before it reached them. This time the effect was immediate: your internal vibrations responded to the impulse, multiplying uncontrollably.

The ground beneath your feet shook, the stones cracked. Aizawa barely managed to activate his gaze, nullifying the quirks of the two companions as he lunged forward.

“Focus on him!” he shouted, using his bandages to grab Eros's arm.

You raised both hands, the air around you vibrating in concentric waves, cutting through the dust as if they were transparent blades. One of the villains fell to the ground, unconscious from the impact. The other tried to back away, but your vibrations caught up with him, slamming him into a rock.

The effect of Eros' quirk made your pulse erratic; each vibration hit harder than necessary. Aizawa noticed. “Stop, you're going to overload yourself!”

“I can't...” You gasped. “I can feel my whole body vibrating.”

Eros smiled with pleasure, even as his quirk weakened under Aizawa's gaze. “That's right...” he gasped. “You feel it too, don't you? That urge you can't control.”

“Shut up.” Aizawa punched him square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him before grabbing him with his bandages and throwing him against a collapsed beam, wrapping him in it.

The villain fell unconscious, his mask torn off. For a moment, silence returned... but the quirk was already in you. “Aizawa-sensei.” Your voice came out like a plea as you hunched forward, clutching your chest with your arms.

Before you could say anything else, a dull roar shook the ground. The ground beneath you violently split open. One of the fallen villains, in a last-ditch effort, unleashed his own quirk: a shockwave that fractured the rocky base of the cliff.

“Back!” Aizawa shouted, but there was no time.

The ground gave way, and you tried to use your quirk and Aizawa his bandages to keep from falling, but both of you were already affected; your movements came too late; stones and dust enveloped you in an instant. You fell alongside him into abrupt darkness, a short but brutal fall that ended with both of you trapped beneath rubble and earth.

For a moment, there was no up or down, only darkness and fragments of light filtering through the opening earth. The sound was a mixture of your ragged breathing, the bandages tearing, and the rumbling of the mountain.

Aizawa turned on the dim emergency light on his belt, revealing a narrow, irregular space, almost a natural crack between layers of rock. Fragments of rock blocked any visible exit. The flashlight cast shadows that moved as if they were breathing.

“Are you still alive?” Aizawa asked hoarsely, pushing debris aside with his arms, breathing heavily. “Yes... I think so,” you murmured, coughing, trying to sit up; the small space prevented you from sitting with your legs stretched out; instead, you remained with your legs bent and together, between Aizawa, who had his legs open on either side of you.

You could feel your body burning; your intimacy throbbed with every word Aizawa said.

The space was narrow, a cavity created by the collapse. There was barely enough room for the two of you, and the only visible exit was blocked by huge blocks of rock. Aizawa's emergency light flickered weakly, tinged with red; his eyes met yours; he could see your desire and you could see his.

He tried to use the communicator, but all he got was static. “Eraser Unit... we're in the basement of the north wing, we fell into a...” interference “collapsed area.” The device died with a buzz.

“Aizawa-sensei, my body... it's hard to control my quirk right now.” Your voice came out with difficulty, accompanied by a small groan of pain. Aizawa looked at you for a few seconds, holding back with all his strength; he did it so well, you could barely notice how much he wanted to rush over to you.

“Just... just try to control yourself, help will be here soon.” His words sounded uncertain; he knew that right now your quirk was a time bomb; if your emotions continued like this, they would explode and your quirk with them, a collapse that would not only affect you, but could destabilize the entire mountain base for miles around.

“I... ugh, I can't.” Aizawa's scent flooded the small space, making you want him even more; your silly flirting was nothing compared to what you wanted to do right now.

Your games designed to annoy the hero who once caught you were undermined by your incessant desire to be touched by him. You felt yourself getting wet even without touching yourself; your panties were surely a mess now, you thought.

Your gaze turned to your teacher's pants, which showed his obvious erection through the loose fabric.

“Shit,” he muttered as he tried to cover himself with what little bandages he had left. “No. No, no, we can't do anything,” he said in a tone that was meant to be serious, but his voice sounded more like that of an eager puppy.

“Sensei, please,” you begged; a wave of excitement flooded your body. You threw yourself at Aizawa, clinging tightly to his sweater.

A muffled groan escaped his lips as he felt your leg on his member, crushing it slightly. His hands went to your hips, trying unsuccessfully to pull you away from him.

“This isn't right.” Aizawa was using all his strength to control himself; part of him knew this was wrong, while the other part just wanted to touch everything forbidden that your clothes hid.

Your quirk activated without you being able to control it; a small vibration managed to shake the small space they had, threatening to collapse at any moment, but Aizawa managed to activate his quirk just in time.

His judgment was already too clouded to think properly, and his quirk was barely working, pushing him to the edge.

Your face came dangerously close to his; before you could kiss him, you used your last shred of sense to move a few inches away, resting your head in the space between his shoulder and neck.

His mind was convincing itself that if you didn't stabilize, they would both die along with at least several heroes.

An animalistic growl escaped his throat, your hot breath on his neck was the last straw.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer, the pain in his member intensifying. Your mouth instinctively sought his, you just needed that confirmation that he would no longer resist so you could do the same.

Their lips met in a desperate kiss, both moving roughly, your lower lip bleeding after Aizawa bit it. “Ahg, sensei!” you moaned between kisses.

Aizawa tasted like black coffee, which made him even more addictive. His hands didn't stay still; one slid under the shirt of your hero suit, his calloused fingers brushing your soft skin at your waist as he moved up, finding your chest.

You gasped urgently, feeling yourself run out of air against his mouth; when his thumb brushed over your already hard nipple, the sensitivity made you cry out slightly in pain.

“God, you're so hot.” Aizawa's voice was unrecognizable with lust, one last kiss echoed before his mouth left hers to trace a path of wet kisses and bites down her jaw, down her neck.

Each touch left a mark, each suck made her body writhe against his, seeking more friction, more of him. She could feel his throbbing member against her thigh, the burning heat even through the layers of fabric making her moan, her hips moving on their own in small circles that rubbed her crotch against his thigh.

“I can't control myself anymore, I feel like I'm going to explode along with these damn mountains.”

Your words were a rough whisper against his ear, laden with excitement that he felt keenly, your inner walls contracting around nothing, eager to be filled. Before he could respond—before he could think—Aizawa's hands closed around your thighs, lifting you with a force that made you gasp. The movement was quick, almost violent; one second she was straddling his lap, and the next, she felt the thick, burning pressure of his erection, lining up against her entrance, separated only by the thin barrier of her clothes.

He quickly unzipped your skirt shorts and pulled them off in one swift motion, both of you truly grateful at that moment for your exotic hero costume design.

His hand slid your underwear aside, but realizing how inconvenient it was, he tore your panties off with force.

You couldn't help but smile at seeing him so desperate; seeing him that way was more exciting than you could have imagined.

He ran his ring and middle fingers along your slit, feeling you soak his fingers with your juices.

“You're too lewd. Is this what you imagined every time you said your stupid things?” he asked in a mocking tone, singing close to your ear.

You wanted to respond to his mockery, but two fingers entering your entrance stopped you in your tracks. Your back arched with your head stretched back, your nails digging into Aizawa's neck and down to his chest, tearing his sweater with a pretty pattern of scratches.

Aizawa groaned in pain, immersed in fantasy, continuing to insert his fingers into you as you contracted and shuddered.

His fingers moved in and out quickly, the lewd sound they made overshadowed by your moans. His fingers curved upward, touching the spot that made you scream into his lips.

Every touch seemed like it would bring you to climax, but you let out a cry of frustration when you realized that his fingers, magnificent as they were, would not be enough thanks to the quirk.

“No... this isn't working,” you stopped kissing him to look at him pleadingly, he responded to your gaze with a sideways smile, there was really no control left in Aizawa, all that ethical part that told him no, that he couldn't fuck his student, had been buried and locked away so deep by the quirk that he couldn't hear it.

He went down your zipper, taking out his hard member. He didn't hesitate for a second to guide it to your entrance, and with a sudden thrust of his hips, he penetrated you in one movement, sinking into you all the way with an ease that was too obscene.

The stretching was intense, almost painful, but the pleasure you felt as he filled you, the heat that burned you, reaching deeper than you had ever been able to reach on your own, made you scream with pleasure as your legs spasmed.

“Aizawa-sensei, I'm going to melt on your cock,” you said, squeezing his shoulders tightly as you waited for your body to get used to the intrusion.

Curses escaped his lips, his head thrown back in the pleasure your body gave him. There was no room for shame, not when he was already moving inside you, his thrusts short and urgent at first, as if he were struggling to maintain control he clearly no longer possessed. Neither of you could resist.

“Damn, you're so tight,” his hands dug into your hips, guiding his movements as you began to rock on top of him, riding him wildly.

Every time he sank into you, the wet sound of their bodies colliding mingled with their gasps and moans, the air in the enclosed space thickening with the smell of sex and sweat. You could feel him sliding inside you, the rubbing of his member against your inner walls, each thrust hitting that sensitive spot that made you see stars.

“Harder, sensei,” you demanded firmly, and he obeyed, moving harder, drilling into your pussy until he touched the cervix.

Aizawa's fingers tangled in your hair, pulling your head toward him to dive into a kiss more intense than the previous ones, his expert tongue exploring your inexperienced mouth, showing who was in control. He had wanted to show you that control many times before, especially when you wore that superior smile, although he never thought it would be this way.

You felt your precious orgasm approaching, a burning heat burning your belly.

“I'm going to come,” you moaned in a barely audible tone.

“Me too,” his hoarse voice was a growl against your skin. You couldn't take it anymore, your teeth sank into his skin enough to break the skin, a wave of pain-pleasure ran through him, pushing him over the edge. The rhythm became frantic, their hips colliding with force, the sound of their bodies slamming together in the enclosed space. You could feel him tense beneath you, his member swelling even more inside your tight pussy, and when his fingers found your clit, rubbing in hard, precise circles, there was no turning back.

The orgasm hit her harder than any blow she had ever received, tearing a gasp from her as her body contracted around Aizawa, her inner walls squeezing his member with spasms that made him curse. She felt him come inside her, the heat of his semen filling her as his hips jerked with the last sparks of pleasure from his own climax. You collapsed against his chest, your breaths ragged and heavy, sweat sticking to your bodies as the quirk slowly began to dissipate, leaving only the echo of what you had just done.

It took you a few minutes to recover from the orgasm, and as time passed, you both realized what you had truly just done.

Aizawa began to blame himself for not resisting, for touching you in a way that a teacher should never touch his student, cursing himself internally in every way possible.

You could only think about how awkward it would be afterwards. You weren't upset about what had happened, at least not with him, and you let him know that.

“You didn't hurt me, I'm not angry, and I don't think it's your fault,” you sighed heavily. “Let's not tell anyone. No one needs to know, and I don't want it to get out, so if you're not going to do it for yourself, do it for me. Think about what would happen to me if someone found out that I had sex with my teacher in charge during a mission.”

He looked at you with some surprise, seemed to hesitate, but before he could argue with you, a sound above them made them react. The heroes were already coming to their rescue.

You grabbed your skirt shorts and put them on quickly. Aizawa adjusted his cock in his pants, and you moved just far enough away when the sky opened up above you, revealing Lady Munt making her way through the rubble.

Just one bed

Warnings: unprotected sex, grinding, hand job, fingering, creampie, anal sex, Dirty Talk, rough sex, trio, gay sex.

word counter: 1.4k Note: I have open requests; my list is in my profile description. Note 2: I rewrote this 3 times in 1 week, sorry for any chronology errors, I just wanted to finish this as soon as possible before I got blocked. ━━━━━━━━☆★☆━━━━━━━━ "What the hell is this?" he muttered under his breath, pointing at the bed in the middle of the room.

Izuku stepped back a few inches from Katsuki, looking at him nervously. "It must be a mistake by the hostel, Kacchan." I’ll go downstairs and…

Who do you think you are to decide? "I'll go down!" he shouted in response to Izuku's attempt to take control of the situation. He looked at him with concern, given his friend’s usual lack of patience.

"Bakugou, it's almost two in the morning," Todoroki interjected in a calm tone that didn't fit the situation. "They just told me that, because of the snowstorm, there’s no more room at the hostel."

"I don't care, I'm not sleeping in this room with you guys," Bakugou huffed, heading toward the door in a fury.

Izuku hurried to stand in front of him before the impulsive blond could cause a scene. "Kacchan, wait!" You’ll bother the other guests; as a hero, you shouldn’t do that,” Izuku’s anxious voice irritated him even more.

"Bakugou," Shouto said firmly, stepping closer and grabbing his arm as if he were actually going to listen. "It's not that big a deal; the bed is big enough," he said with an honesty that only he could display.

The words and the grip on his arm were the trigger that finally burned thru the last fuse he had left. Bakugou tried to break free violently; Izuku grabbed his shoulder to keep him from shoving Shouto, and the three of them ended up grappling awkwardly.

An off-balance step, a shove, and together they fell to the floor.

The dull thud of the three bodies hitting the mattress echoed throughout the room, followed by a silence so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Bakugou ended up in the middle, his hand gripping Shouto’s arm—which was trapped beneath him—in an instinctive grab at the first thing he felt; Izuku was in front of him, his head pressed against Bakugou’s neck and his legs entangled with Shouto’s.

They didn’t move for a few seconds.

The three of them looked at each other, tense, confused, and red-faced, although Izuku was redder than the other two combined.

Katsuki looked away first, muttering an almost inaudible “damn it.” Izuku let out a nervous giggle, shifting uncomfortably, and Shouto, still motionless, simply commented calmly as he buried his nose in the blond’s hair: "Bakugou, you smell good."

Katsuki threw an elbow backward, but Shouto easily dodged it. "Damn it, Half-and-Half, I'm gonna get you!" Izuku was the one who stopped the middle elbow strike, using his Quirk to grab both of his hands and clench his fists. "Ka-Kacchan, don't do that."

Before Katsuki could respond, Shouto’s frozen hand grabbed him by the neck, turning his head just enough to bring their faces too close.

Their lips met in a tender kiss that left Katsuki stunned for several seconds; he only reacted when a cold tongue slid into his warm palate, sending a shiver down his spine. Their lips remained pressed together for what seemed like an eternity to Izuku.

When the kiss finally ended, Katsuki, still held tightly by Izuku, turned to look at him in disbelief. His childhood friend had never seen him like this, which surprised him even more than the fact that his other friend had kissed him.

Shouto looked at Izuku from behind Katsuki; their eyes met, giving Izuku the courage to do what he had wanted to do for so long.

His hands let go of Katsuki’s and moved to his cheeks, and Katsuki looked at him with a hint of anger.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he couldn't finish the sentence because of a violent, needy kiss from Izuku, who, unlike Shouto, didn't hold back. During the kiss, Katsuki regained his senses, grabbed Izuku by the waist, pulling their hips together; the kiss turned into a struggle for dominance, which the blond easily won.

Shouto, who was on the bottom, began to adjust himself, untangling the mess of legs that had been preventing them from moving; now, with their bodies freer, they slid apart, and Katsuki gripped Izuku’s hips more firmly, flipping him over onto the bed, leaving him on top, with Shouto at his side. Izuku, drooling from the kiss, offered no resistance whatsoever.

Shouto leaned in to kiss Izuku, their tongues entwined in a dance, while Katsuki, without wasting a moment, slid his hands under Izuku’s shirt, moving up his torso to his nipples, which he attacked mercilessly, pressing those small buttons before pinching and tugging at them, eliciting an unintelligible moan from the freckled boy. Shouto stopped the kiss to take off Izuku’s shirt, revealing his toned body.

Katsuki growled as he watched Izuku melt beneath him, and continued torturing his nipples for a few moments before stopping to pull down his pants, which Izuku tried to resist without much success. Shouto’s kisses traced his neck, leaving bites and marks.

"N-no, it's not fair, I'm the only one with so little clothing," Izuku stammered, and Katsuki and Bakugo exchanged a glance before stripping off their clothes, their cocks on full display, hard as rocks.

Bakugo’s cock was thick and veiny; Shouto’s was a bit longer, but thinner. Without thinking, Izuku touched Katsuki’s cock with his clumsy fingers, and Katsuki grunted in response. —Agg, damn you, Deku!

Izuku’s hand went up and down for a few seconds, and then Shouto, a little jealous of his lack of attention, positioned himself behind Izuku’s head and brought his penis to his face. He hesitated for a moment, but quickly took it into his mouth, savoring its salty taste; first he sucked the tip, circling it with his tongue, then he licked from base to tip, leaving a trail of saliva, and finally he began to devour it all slowly. Shouto moaned softly as he grabbed Izuku’s hair, tugging on it with each wave of pleasure.

Katsuki took off Izuku’s underwear. He grabbed him by the chin to pull his penis from between his lips, only to replace it with his index and middle fingers, holding his tongue as Shouto’s pre-cum and Izuku’s saliva mingled to create a natural lubricant. He withdrew his fingers after a few seconds and guided his index finger toward the freckled boy’s entrance, feeling the hand still holding Izuku’s penis tense as his index finger slid inside.

He pulled it out and gently reinserted it; the second finger went in with a bit more difficulty, but soon Izuku got used to it, moving his hips slightly in search of more sensation. A loud moan escaped him when the two fingers curled upward.

Izuku moaned on Shouto’s cock. "Kacchan, I want you inside," he gasped desperately, looking at him with tears in his eyes. "I need you."

Katsuki didn’t hesitate to comply with that request. He took his penis in his hands, aligned it with Izuku’s hole, and slowly pushed it in, giving Izuku time to get used to its size. Once inside, Izuku’s intoxicating warmth made him groan thru clenched teeth.

The way his walls tightened around Katsuki’s penis was exactly what he needed to start moving. Faced with such a scene, Shouto grabbed Izuku by the nape of his neck and began to fuck his mouth hard, shoving his cock all the way in, preventing him from breathing for a few seconds before pulling it out and repeating the act.

Katsuki began to move faster, his hips slamming against Izuku’s ass with each thrust. Izuku wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

—agg mhm— he groaned miserably, with Shouto’s cock buried in his throat, his face a mess that was beautiful to behold for the others.

Katsuki tilted his hips, trying to reach Izuku’s prostate with each thrust. He could feel Izuku tightening around him, indicating that he was close.

—Move, Deku—Katsuki growled—. I want to feel you fall apart as I fuck every hole in you. Izuku’s back arched involuntarily.

Izuku came with a stifled cry, his penis dripping and staining Katsuki’s abdomen. The sensation of Izuku melting beneath him was too much, pushing him to the edge and making him cum deep inside him. Shouto came in Izuku’s throat, covering his face in semen; Katsuki leaned in, still inside Izuku, to kiss Shouto, whose lips were hot, eliciting a soft groan of pain from Katsuki.

The three of them collapsed onto the bed; their ragged breaths were the only sound in the room. Their hands intertwined affectionately.

Too Early

Warnings: unprotected sex, . Sleepy sex, oral f and m receiving, grinding, hand job, fingering, creampie, Vaginal Sex, Riding/Cowgirl Position, dominant f and m, Dirty Talk, rough sex (Not too much, for me...) and blood.

word counter: 1.7k

Note: I have open requests; my list is in my profile description.

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"Honey, get up," Aizawa complained as he tried to hide under the bedcovers, ignoring your attempt to wake him. "Come on, honey, you have to get up," you said, your hand reaching his face and gently touching his cheek with your index finger. He let out another groan of annoyance as he brushed your hand away. "Don't be annoying and let me sleep," his husky voice made your whole body vibrate. His face was barely visible beneath his long, tousled hair that fell over it.

"You really are difficult in the mornings," you hesitated for a second, your voice sensual and playful. In one swift motion, you straddled his legs. “I have to teach you a lesson,” you said. Aizawa freed his arms from the blankets, trying to push you off, but before he could, you grabbed his right hand, interlacing your fingers with his; your face drew dangerously close to his. For the first time this morning, your beloved opened his eyes to look at you; he thot you’d kiss him because of how close you were, but you had something even more fun in mind.

Your mouth opened, and before Aizawa could react, your fangs sank deep into his neck, tearing it open. Hot red liquid soaked your lips in just seconds, and a groan escaped from the depths of Aizawa’s throat. His free hand grabbed your hair, forcefully pulling your face away from his neck while trying not to hurt you too much.

"What do you think you're doing?" His voice came out in a deep, annoyed tone; without loosening his grip on your hair, he sat up in bed, bringing your faces level. You couldn’t help the smile on your face, even if you wanted to; it only annoyed him more, and his tired gaze glared at you.

-Why are you complaining? I asked you nicely to get up, but you’re a hopeless, capricious child. You squeezed his hand, still tightly entwined with yours, brought it to your mouth, wiped the blood off with the back of his hand, and let out a low laugh.

His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you toward him with a sharp tug that tore a sigh from you, mingled with a low laugh. "Do you find this funny?" he spat, his voice strained.

"A little, darling," your voice drawled the last word. Aizawa didn’t respond right away. He just watched you in silence, with that gaze that tried to be cold but was cracking at the edges. The slight tremor in his hand, still holding your hair, gave him away.

"You really don't know when to stop," he muttered, more tired than angry. He wasn’t pleased that you’d woken him up so early, especially after staying up until the early hours grading his students’ exams.

The grip on your hair tightened, making you let out a soft moan; then it released completely, and the hand that had made you moan slid down to your hips, caressing them from top to bottom.

Your gaze dropped to his crotch, now uncovered by the blankets. “Don’t tell me that turned you on?” Your hand moved to where your eyes were fixed, gently caressing him thru his pants.

"Don't play the saint and take care of it," he said firmly, an order. He let go of your hand and placed it alongside the other on your hips, where it lingered for only a few seconds. He then ran his hand up your abdomen to your breasts, sending a shiver thru your body. He squeezed your chest firmly between his calloused hands and toyed with your nipple. A moan, followed by your ragged breathing, snapped you back to reality, out of your little game.

You thot about continuing to tease him, but you dismissed that when you realized that waking him up on a whim probably hadn’t been a good idea in the first place. Although you weren’t about to admit it.

Without a word, you pulled down his pants along with his underwear until they were off, then leaned back, pressing your stomach against the bed and positioning your head at the perfect height.

You leaned in toward his cock, cupping it at the base with your hands; your tongue gently licked the tip for a few seconds, but the hand now resting on the back of your neck, urging you to continue, made you break into a smile.

You kissed the tip of his penis tenderly before taking almost half of his thick member into your mouth. Which causes an expression of impatience on Aizawa’s face—"ah..."—a dry moan escaped him, and your gaze shifted to his face, now perfectly visible without all his hair in the way. His cheeks flushed, his lips parted, and his head tilted slightly back.

You kept sucking, taking more and more into your mouth, your tongue curling around the tip and feeling its veins perfectly. Aizawa’s heavy breathing seemed to grow heavier with each passing minute.

Your hand moved up and down the base you couldn’t quite get into your mouth. His hand on your head trembled more and more, making it clear he was about to come.

-ahh...agh- hoarse, desperate moans, along with the lascivious sounds of your saliva on his member, were the only things that could be heard in the room.

Just a few seconds later, his grip on the back of your neck tightened and Aizawa’s hot semen flooded your mouth. He released you moments later, your eyes met, and you stuck out your tongue, still coated in semen. The liquid overflowed, smearing your breasts with the thick fluid. In response, he gave you a tired smile mixed with smugness.

Aizawa lifted you by the hips with ease, switching and reversing positions, then gently laid you on your back. He positioned himself between your legs, forcefully spreading them apart as he pulled off your pajama shorts and the underwear that was in the way.

He kissed your thighs, lightly biting them from time to time—agh...please—you moaned softly at the touch that didn’t quite satisfy your craving for his touch.

-I didn’t hear you, what did you say?- a mocking smile looked up at you from between your legs.

"Fuck you and hurry up," you said—agh—your voice came out forcefully, but a hard hickey on your thigh made you moan in between.

-It seems like you don’t want me to help you with this mess of yours- his middle finger slowly traced your entrance, showing how wet you were.

"Please, I beg you," you said, letting out a heavy sigh thru your mouth as you spoke those words. Your pride melted with the heat of your body.

"Good girl" were her last words before her tongue plunged into your intimacy, her fingers not far behind, sliding in two at a time with little difficulty. They curved upward, touching the spot that made you lose control of your body, as his thumb traced circles on your clitoris with varying pressure. -agh....mmh!- Moans, muffled by your breath, escaped without restraint; even without being able to see him, you knew the smug smile on Aizawa’s face. His fingers picked up speed along with his tongue, which was now devoted to licking your folds.

-I’m coming... I- a loud moan escaped your lips, your hands clenched the sheets beneath you, while your legs squeezed tightly around Aizawa’s head. He didn’t stop his fingers, making your orgasm last as long as possible. Your dilated pupils gazed at him with desire, and he did the same.

He leaned in toward your face after a few seconds, his lips met yours, tasting your own juice in the process; his hands moved nimbly, pulling off your T-shirt, and he did the same with his sweater. The heat of your bodies merged as you threw yourself onto him, straddling his legs to keep kissing him, your tongues battling for dominance in each other’s mouths. Your hand went to his cock, which was already hard again. You guided his thick piece of meat to your intimacy; both of you moaned against each other’s lips as your skin touched, his member slowly making its way into your tightness. With half of it already inside, a hand on your hip forced you to lower yourself quickly, your head thrown back as you felt your deepest point being touched forcefully.

He took control of your hips, moving them up and down forcefully, and uncontrolled moans escaped you as you were powerless to do anything about it. "Damn, you feel so good," his breathless voice sent shivers down your spine, your legs were trembling, and even tho Aizawa was doing all the work of holding you up, you kissed him again, biting his lips each time his cock slid all the way in and then carelessly withdrew. The lust in his eyes looked at you like prey, “Ahh, Aizaw~a,” you moaned his name, and the thrusts grew faster in response. You scratched his firm back with your long nails, tearing into it forcefully. His hand went to your chest, tending to this solitary part, playing with your nipples by pinching them; tugging on them alternately to suck them. A loud moan escaped Aizawa, signaling he was close. “Come inside,” your desperate voice pled, your hips moving with the last of your strength. A powerful thrust entered, hitting your favorite spot; your lips met one last time in a wild kiss; your beloved’s semen flooded your insides as you came; a final, great moan escaped your lips, followed by Aizawa’s.

You fell into his strong arms, his member still inside you, your body now drained of strength; his breaths came in ragged gasps. One of his hands went to your head, gently stroking your hair, while the other rested on your back, giving you a lovely feeling of warmth.

"Did it hurt a lot?" His tone showed some concern about his previous action.

"No, I'm fine... I like it when you get like this," you buried your head in his shoulder with a bit of embarrassment. "I'm sorry I woke you up," you said softly as your eyes closed.

The Game of Our Obsession

“She chose him. He couldn’t let her go”

Chapter 2

Warnings: obscene language- violence

word counter: 4.5k

Upon waking up, a pain in your knees became apparent, probably from when you fell to the floor. Before you could process everything that had happened, the comfort and warmth of the blankets became noticeable, easing your discomfort a little.

You opened your eyes quickly when you realized your bed had never been this comfortable —and how could it be? Your room was normally a mess and you usually wrapped yourself up with whatever blanket you could reach. You gasped sharply as you uncovered yourself, realizing you weren’t in your bed nor in your room.

The first thing you saw was the bed itself, draped with a pure white blanket. Looking up, you could see you were on a second floor, loft-like. The high walls were painted white with small sections of pastel green —your favorite color. The floor was dark wood, though barely visible beneath a large rug. The lighting was warm, and although there wasn’t any direct light in the room, it filtered in from outside because instead of a wall there was a railing that connected to the stairs leading to the rest of the place.

A shiver ran down your body as your feet touched the cold floor, and you noticed your shoes —which you had thought lost— were actually right next to the bed. Heart pounding so fast it felt like it would burst from your chest, you decided to go down.

Before descending, you took one last glance at the room: a large, elegant wardrobe; the bed centered along one of the only three walls, with two white nightstands on either side. On one of the nightstands lay two black cat-patterned blankets. Your gaze continued until it reached an enormous mirror where you saw you were still wearing your work clothes, although your once-high ponytail had come loose. Next to the white stairs stood a small table with a TV on top.

Going down the stairs, the first thing you noticed was the lack of windows. A wave of nausea hit you —you had been drugged and kidnapped. You remembered only that while you were eating you began to feel ill and then finally passed out.

You hesitated for a moment about whether to venture further into the room, though from where you were you could already see almost everything except for a small hallway you thought might be the exit. In front of the stairs there was a living room with shelves that reached the tall ceiling, filled with books, with an L-shaped couch facing a lovely wooden coffee table. A large TV hung on the wall; beyond it there was a small kitchen and beside it the hallway, from which you could only see a partially open door that appeared to lead to a bathroom.

Your legs trembled, your fear making you think slowly. Were you in someone’s house? No, you realized a second later. There weren’t any personal belongings, the house looked like no one had ever lived there, and in fact it seemed to be underground given the lack of windows.

Walking softly to the nearest wall, you confirmed your suspicions. The wall and the space behind it sounded hollow and muffled when you touched them, indicating that on the other side there was only earth.

You had been drugged, kidnapped, and now locked in an underground place —although far too pleasant to be a torture chamber. You felt so bad you wanted to cry, but now wasn’t the time. You repeated this desperately in an attempt to keep calm.

You gathered your courage and crossed the room toward the hallway, wide enough to have a small, mostly empty bookshelf except for a small empty picture frame. At the end of the hall was a metal door with several locks. You tried opening them but failed. You had to get out. Whoever had kidnapped you would come back, and no matter how nice the place seemed, the fact remained that whoever had done this had a reason for it, and that terrified you.

How long had you actually been gone? You couldn’t know —how many times could they have drugged you before you finally woke up? You didn’t even know whether it was day or night given the lack of windows or a clock.

On the verge of tears in front of the door, you started to hear footsteps on the other side, like someone coming down stairs. Then a small click —someone was unlocking the door.

The first thing that came to mind was to hide. Under the bed, in the wardrobe, in the bathroom —too obvious. Besides, your captor clearly knew you were there; there was no way you could have escaped. The best option was to catch them off guard and fight. You quickly grabbed a lamp, one of the few things in the place that wasn’t a piece of furniture. You moved to the most open part of the room, facing the door directly, ready to pounce on whoever opened it.

A final creak was heard, and the door opened slightly. Your heart hammered, your body trembled, and then Aizawa stepped into the room. You dropped the object to the floor and ran across the room to him, clinging to his waist tightly as tears streamed down your cheeks. He placed one hand on your back and the other gently behind your head, caressing you.

“Thank God… I was so scared… what a relief you’re here.” You let out a long sigh as your heart began to steady. You inhaled deeply to catch your breath —and then a new scent hit you: sweet and calming, coffee and cinnamon. Suddenly your heart began pounding again, your legs trembled, and nausea swept over you. Panic surged; you pushed him lightly away and lifted your gaze to his eyes.

“Aizawa?” Your voice trembled, bile rising in your throat. You turned your head slightly to look behind him, then back at him. “Where are they… where are the others?” Your voice cracked, almost unable to finish the sentence. Your gaze dropped, unable to hold his any longer. You looked at his clothes —he should be in his hero costume, but instead he wore black pants and a white shirt.

You forced yourself to look at him. He looked worried, so sad. You imagined you looked the same or worse. You hated the thought, hated knowing what you knew was true.

“I’m sorry. I’m really so sorry,” his voice was soft and tender, nothing like his usual cold, tired tone. You wanted to trust him, to think this was just a bad joke, wanted to wrap yourself in his arms again —but you didn’t. You couldn’t even take a step. “No one else will come here for you,” he looked at you with such guilt and pity you wanted to hit him and let him hold you at the same time. But no —there was no way you’d let him touch you again.

You couldn’t speak, you were on the brink of collapse. He stepped toward you and you stepped back, and he looked at you as if you’d struck him. Unbelievable, you thought, staring at his face, which lacked his distinctive tired look; his hair was tied back in a ponytail, contrasting sharply with his usual disheveled appearance.

“You should sit.” He nodded toward the couch, but you didn’t move an inch. He kept looking directly into your eyes; his gaze had always seemed so simple to you, but now there were so many emotions behind it you couldn’t decipher. You had always thought Aizawa Shouta easy to read, but now you were lost, sinking into a deep, inescapable pit. You wondered if before it had all just been an act, if Aizawa had been acting every day at work —that façade of a respectable hero and teacher.

“You should sit, let’s talk, you must have many questions,” he repeated even more gently than before. He took another step toward you, but unlike before, you stood firm, looking him in the eyes.

“No. I’m not talking to you, Aizawa. If you really think I’m going to listen to you, then you must be the biggest idiot in the world.” You wanted to sound angry and firm —you were angry— but your body was giving in to the stress and the lump in your throat was growing. Your voice trembled, your lips quivered, your legs failed you.

He tilted his head softly at you, didn’t speak, just looked at you with an expression so comforting and warm it only made you feel small and confused.

Another step, he came closer slowly. You cried harder than you ever had despite your sensitive nature. Your weak knees buckled and you fell, but before you hit the ground Aizawa caught you gently, kneeling in front of you as you collapsed against him, sobbing hysterically.

You wanted to push him away, to hurt him for even thinking he had the right to touch you —but you didn’t fight. You had no idea why you couldn’t, even though you wanted to, your body wouldn’t move. You leaned on him, letting him hold you while you cried.

Time passed —you had no idea how long or how hard you cried. Aizawa’s ears probably rang from your sobbing, but you didn’t care; it was his fault you were in this state.

Finally your horrible sobs became faint whimpers. Your eyes burned, your tears were gone, your body felt so heavy. Aizawa’s arms tightened slightly; he helped you up gently and led you to the couch, sitting with you, wrapping his arms around you as you leaned on him, your body unable to fight.

When you finished crying, you looked at him and he looked back at you, sweet and tender —something that made you feel strange because of his change in personality. As your head spun, an idea crossed your mind. Before you could think twice, you quickly reached your hand toward Aizawa’s eyes.

Your hand covered his eyes; you activated your quirk the moment your skin touched his. “Sleep,” your broken voice whispered. But nothing happened. Your quirk didn’t work, even though he hadn’t activated his.

He took your hand away from his face gently. You immediately pulled away from him with all the strength left in your body. Your gaze, even more confused, locked onto his. He simply let you retreat, leaning back on the couch so that your back was firmly pressed against the armrest while he remained in front of you, giving you more space, which you appreciated for a moment —before realizing you had nothing to thank him for.

“My quirk…” Your voice sounded shocked at the fact that it hadn’t activated when you touched him. Your quirk wasn’t powerful, but you could use your telepathy to read and give small orders to people you touched.

“You’re confused, I understand. Ask me whatever you need.” Aizawa spoke softly and with understanding, as if you were a frightened little mouse and he was trying not to scare you more than you already were. Confused was an understatement for what you felt: you were confused, sad, angry, exhausted, and terrified.

The burn in your throat after so much crying made it hard to speak clearly. “Why?” slipped from your lips, barely recognizing your own small, broken, hoarse voice. You didn’t feel like yourself, but that was the least important thing at that moment.

“Why did I bring you here?” Aizawa asked. You wanted to roll your eyes at the question that to you was the most obvious in the world, making you doubt his intelligence for a moment. You nodded, unable to say everything you wanted. “Because… because you’re mine.” He responded as if you were the foolish one for asking. As if it were obvious that you were “his.”

“I’m yours?” you asked calmly, using the last shred of calm you had. The very fact that he’d said you were his made you want to hit him for daring to see you as his property. But maybe if you could understand him better, you could find a way out of here.

“Of course you are, darling.” He sighed slightly as he took your hand gently. You almost shuddered at the pet name. Darling. “I love you, and you will love me sooner or later, I know it. We’re destined to be together. You don’t understand yet —you’re mine… you already are. I needed to possess you.” His eyes held a kind of madness you had never seen before.

You were about to get up from the couch to run, but instead you managed to stay eerily still. He loves you? Really? Or does he just think he does, because of that feeling that you’re his? Aizawa had always seemed so calm you thought you understood his emotions perfectly, but now you were beginning to question everything you knew about Aizawa, everything you thought you knew. You would never have labeled him a delusional kidnapper or a villain, of course not —he was a hero, one of the best. Could a hero really be this delusional? Maybe he was under the effect of a quirk? Your head spun.

“My quirk… why isn’t it working?” You looked at your hands before looking back at him. “I don’t know, probably your state of mind,” he said. He didn’t seem to be lying; besides, your quirk failing due to your mental state wasn’t new to you.

“And… how long have I been here?” You couldn’t form a proper sentence. You guessed it hadn’t been long —you weren’t dehydrated or anything.

“Six hours. No one knows you left your apartment,” he explained. You paid attention to his words: “left your apartment” instead of “were kidnapped,” which is what had really happened.

“God, what about… what about my students… what about Nemuri?” Your voice trembled at the thought of Nemuri finding out you had been kidnapped. Your stomach churned. Nemuri had become like family to you; she’d be devastated, no doubt. She’d blame herself for not seeing this coming, though it wasn’t her fault. You knew she would.

Immediately you noticed Aizawa’s demeanor changed. The moment Nemuri’s name left your mouth, his expression returned to the one you’d always known —serious.

“Don’t worry about her. I won’t let her or anyone else take you away from me.” Aizawa raised his voice just a little, enough to alarm you and make your anxiety spike. “I’ll kill them before they take you from me.”

That shocked you for a moment. He really seemed jealous of Nemuri, which after a moment didn’t surprise you given his previous words about possessing you, since you didn’t hide your strong affection for your friend. His words triggered your next question: “Are you going to kill me?” This time you made eye contact; if he was going to kill you, he’d have to look you in the eyes while doing it. You’d make it as hard as possible for him.

He didn’t take long to answer; he seemed genuinely horrified, as if everything he’d done so far hadn’t already made him look like a crazy villain. “Of course I’m not going to kill you, darling.” He shook his head. “I could never hurt you.” You weren’t at all sure you believed him. You wondered if he understood that killing Nemuri would hurt you.

“Have you killed anyone?” You needed to understand how dangerous Aizawa really was, now that you’d realized you didn’t actually know him at all. He seemed like he wouldn’t be a serious danger to you given his words, but you weren’t sure you could trust his intentions. After all, he had kidnapped you.

“That’s not something you need to worry about right now.” He spoke firmly, which you took as an admission that he had killed people —probably civilians. You felt horrible.

And suddenly you felt much worse. “Algodón, my cat, did you kill him?” You almost started crying again, you wanted to vomit. But Aizawa immediately began shaking his head.

“I didn’t kill him. Why would I do that? It does us no good to do something like that. I left your door and one of your windows open so it would look like he escaped, but… he’s safe. He’s at my apartment. I left him with food and water,” Aizawa explained, with compassion at your clear concern. “Yes, I…” he cleared his throat, “I have killed people before, only when it was necessary.”

You wondered what “necessary” meant to him —villains maybe, but civilians?

“Were you friends with your neighbor? The one right across from your apartment?” he asked, looking guilty. You shook your head, tears falling again at the implication you knew he meant. Aizawa had killed your neighbor.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t believe his stupid apology. “I had to. Darling, he saw me with you, he… would have called the police, then heroes would have come too. I would have had to kill so many people. It was a small sacrifice; many more lives would have been lost if I hadn’t killed him first.” You thought he was insane. You felt awful. You couldn’t stop thinking about your neighbor, now dead because of you. You were going to vomit, break down again. You had to hold together what was left of you. You thought of one last attempt to keep your mind functioning.

“Algodón… can he come? Can you bring him?” you pleaded. The idea of being without him scared you, and the idea of him being alone with Aizawa scared you even more. Before you would have felt at ease leaving him with a hero, but now Aizawa —your coworker, always gentle despite his serious personality— terrified you for what he’d done and could do.

“Yes, after you do something for me.” He bargained, as if you had no choice but to do as he pleased, but you listened anyway. “I’ll bring Algodón if you eat something and drink water. You’ve gone too many hours without doing so and you’ve been crying a lot. Your body needs energy.”

Though the last thing you wanted was to admit he was right, he was; now that you thought about it, you were starving and your mouth and throat were so dry that food and water sounded like the best thing, but fear invaded you again. “Are… are you going to drug me again?” you stammered.

“No, I won’t. Now that you’re with me that won’t be necessary.” His words made you shiver, but they made enough sense to your exhausted body. He got up from the couch, not without giving you a small smile —something you had rarely seen him do before. Then he walked to the kitchen. You saw him take a takeout container from the fridge and put the food on a plate before heating it in the microwave. It was the same meal you always ordered from your favorite restaurant a few blocks from your home —you went there almost every day after work when you didn’t want to cook. You guessed he had been watching you; it had been his eyes you’d felt all this time, if it weren’t already obvious.

While waiting for the food to heat up, Aizawa grabbed a glass and filled it with water. When he brought it to you, you thought about taking it, throwing the drink in his face, or breaking the glass against the corner of the coffee table and then driving it into his neck. But in reality, you were so tired, so exhausted, and so thirsty that you simply took it obediently into your hands.

The glass was cold, but you didn’t care. You took a small sip, waited a few seconds, and then took one long gulp, finishing the glass without even realizing how dehydrated you had been until you finally got something to drink. Your body was grateful, and so was your mind.

“Thank you,” you whispered softly, handing the glass back to Aizawa. He had been watching you the whole time. He looked at you calmly, with a trace of seriousness, and you almost caught a glimpse of the man you thought you knew—the one who, despite his stoicism, always carried that reassuring, trustworthy aura.

“I’ll bring another glass,” he said firmly, almost like an order. You thanked him anyway—you needed it. You didn’t take your eyes off Aizawa as he went into the kitchen, filling the glass with water from the same bottled brand you usually drank. He really seemed to know everything about you—even that you didn’t like tap water and only drank bottled. He took the food out of the microwave, approached you, and set the glass and plate on the coffee table before pulling it closer so you wouldn’t have to move. You appreciated that too.

Aizawa sat on a separate couch, his hands clasped together in patience. He gave you space while you ate, which allowed you to truly enjoy the meal. It was delicious—just like every time you ordered from that particular restaurant. You hated that Aizawa was watching you, lurking, but at least you were eating something you liked.

When you finished, Aizawa approached you. “Thank you,” you murmured again, barely above a whisper. He smiled at you, which was unusual. Taking the plate and glass, he walked to the sink and began to wash them.

Without moving from the couch, you watched him. He looked so different from how he was at work, and you wondered if you’d ever go back—to work, or even to a normal life. His hair, more orderly than usual, was normally messy, which you found nice; but now it looked formal, something you had only seen during staff meetings. You figured being a kidnapper and killer must be stressful—even more so for someone who always wanted to sleep anywhere, wrapped in that big yellow sleeping bag that made him look like a giant caterpillar.

When he finished, he washed his hands and dried them with a kitchen towel. Finally, he returned to you. He adjusted his posture, easily lifting you from where you sat to place you in his spot, and you wondered if it was a deliberate attempt to assert dominance—to remind you how much stronger he was. You weren’t sure if it worked or not.

“You need to rest, sweetheart. You need to sleep well after such a stressful day,” he said quietly, and you agreed. “I can sleep here with you, or I can go home and—”

“Go home.” You interrupted him. You wouldn’t allow him to stay the night—you were afraid of what he might do, of what lines he could cross. You expected him to get angry, but he didn’t. He just nodded, pressing his dry lips together. He looked defeated—but not angry.

“You’re still wearing your work clothes. I didn’t want to bring anything from your apartment, but I bought you something more comfortable. It’s in our… your room.” He clearly meant to say our room, but corrected himself, nodding toward the stairs.

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely audible, but he heard and nodded.

Your legs were still trembling, your body weak. You slowly stood up from the couch and began walking toward the stairs, but as soon as you tried to step onto the first one, your knees gave out. You would have fallen backward if Aizawa hadn’t caught you. You tried to push him away, but he didn’t let go.

“Easy, let me carry you.” For the first time, his tone was more serious—commanding. You nodded, unwilling to fight. He carried you up the stairs in his arms and gently set you down on the bed. He walked to the small TV stand, picked up one of two remote controls, and pressed a button. Curtains slid closed along the railing, covering almost the entire stairway. You hadn’t even realized how exposed the room had been before. He placed the remote back, gave you one last glance, and left.

The floor was still cold against your feet. You went to the nearest wardrobe and indeed found comfortable clothes inside. You chose a pair of long pajama pants and an oversized shirt.

Despite the privacy the curtains offered, Aizawa could still be watching. If he was truly a kidnapper—and a killer—it wouldn’t surprise you if he was also a pervert. You wanted to hide somewhere between the bed and the wardrobe, but you didn’t have the strength. Besides, if all he did was watch you change, that would be among the least terrible things he could do to you.

You weren’t sure what to do with the clothes you’d just taken off. A small call from the stairs startled you, making you jump. “Yes?” you murmured loud enough for him to hear. Then the curtain slid open slightly, without him looking inside, giving you privacy. “I’m... I’m done changing.” With that, he opened the curtain a little more, stepping barely into the room. Seeing the clothes in your hands, he extended his to take them.

“I’ll bring them back washed,” he offered. You nodded, handing them over, flinching slightly when his hand brushed yours. He noticed—you knew he noticed. “I’ll bring Cotton tomorrow. Do you want me to bring you anything else?” he asked, but the softness of the carpet under your feet distracted you slightly.

“Yes, uh, slippers. Please.” You bit your lip, lowering your gaze and crossing your arms over your stomach, instinctively trying to hide yourself from him.

“All right. Good night, sweetheart.” He sighed tiredly before turning around and leaving the room, closing the curtain behind him. You stayed there, staring at the curtain until you heard the heavy metal door downstairs open, close, close again, and finally lock for the last time.

You left the lights on, crawled into bed, sighing at the comfort, lying on your side and hugging a pillow. You fell asleep much sooner than you expected.

Chapter 1

The Game of Our Obsession

“She chose him. He couldn’t let her go”

Warnings: obscene language- violence

word counter: 1.7k

Chapter 1

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The smell of freshly brewed coffee, along with the slightly annoying sound of Yamada’s voice shouting as always, filled the relaxed atmosphere of the teachers’ lounge. You settled into your desk, stretching your arms above your head before turning to Nemuri to listen to her story about how, during her last patrol, she saved—in her own words—“the most toxic and manipulative couple I had ever seen.”

“Seriously? He worried more about his hair than about making sure his girlfriend wasn’t hurt?” You tilted your head with a small smile and let out a soft sigh as Nemuri’s annoyed expression grew more obvious.

You had met Nemuri years ago at a festival; you clicked immediately over your shared tastes in art, music, and hobbies. Although you lost touch for a while, when you joined U.A. as a teacher your friendship became closer than ever—just like with Yamada, who, despite his loud personality, shared your love for radio shows.

“I really don’t know how people like that can have a partner,” Nemuri continued, but your mind drifted for a moment. Your gaze landed on Shuota Aizawa, who was rarely seen at this hour of the morning without his sleeping bag; he was talking with Cementoss. He turned for a second and your eyes met. You gave him a small smile, and he simply nodded in greeting. Aizawa was another of your friends—intimidating because of his seriousness and sometimes slightly twisted personality—but you could see someone who would do anything for his students and for anyone who needed him.

After the brief, wordless greeting, you turned back to Nemuri to wrap up the conversation with the conclusion that sometimes it’s better to stay single. You turned to your laptop to finish planning your next class, in which you’d assign your students to write a biography of themselves.

When you closed the work app, a wave of anxiety hit you as you read a news article about the arrest of a stalker who had been harassing a famous girl from Channel #. It reminded you of the way you’d been feeling lately—like someone was watching you. No matter where or with whom you were, it felt as though someone, or something, had their eyes on you.

You had told Nemuri about it, which worried her, but after spending a few days with you keeping watch and seeing nothing strange, she reassured you that the feeling you were having was probably due to being constantly surrounded by heroes and students who spoke about villains every day. She also explained how it’s a common feeling among civilians who frequently interact with heroes because of the danger their friends and family are exposed to.

Although you were truly grateful and wanted to believe what Nemuri said was true, the feeling didn’t go away, and the anxiety was taking its toll. A hand on your shoulder startled you, making you let out a small, muffled gasp.

“Are you okay?” Yamada looked at you with a playful smile, standing next to Aizawa, who was watching you with his usual tired gaze—but slightly different this time.

You looked at both of them with a defeated expression as you stood and leaned against your desk, arms crossed.

“It’s just… I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching me,” you said in a tired, low tone, making sure Nemuri, at the other end of the room, couldn’t hear. You’d already worried her enough and didn’t want to keep doing it.

“That feeling is normal when you’re exposed to this kind of environment,” Aizawa said calmly.

“Yeah! He’s right, it’s common to feel anxious—especially after what happened with the League of Villains during the USJ training,” Yamada responded in his loud, booming tone.

That made you feel a little better; having three pro heroes calm you gave you a sense of trust.

“I came to tell you that I need you to be present in the class with the 1-A kids alongside Yamada.” You nodded with a smile, picking up some papers from your desk. You walked past Aizawa; his scent of coffee and cinnamon relaxed you slightly as you headed to your next class.

♡ㅤ♡ㅤ♡

You walked beside Nemuri, looking at her as she spoke. After classes, the two of you had gone out for drinks—something not uncommon for you. You liked going out with Nemuri; after all, you were a big fan of hers. You thought she was a fantastic heroine as well as a great teacher.

“Oh God, I think I drank too much… tomorrow I have patrol until late, I don’t know how I’ll get up,” Nemuri complained, resting her head on your shoulder. The height difference put her chest close to your face. You weren’t a lesbian, but Nemuri could definitely make any woman question herself. You laughed at your own thoughts, brushing them off as silly.

“Next time, I’ll make sure you don’t drink like a truck driver,” you joked as Nemuri straightened up to keep walking.

“Yes, please do. I always end up drinking more than I should when I’m with you.” She glanced at you with a teasing smile. You rolled your eyes at her subtle way of blaming you.

Your heart suddenly raced, making you lose your breath. You looked around but saw nothing; you could feel someone’s gaze on you. You convinced yourself it was just your imagination.

“See you tomorrow,” you snapped out of your thoughts as you arrived at your apartment building.

“Ah… yeah, see you tomorrow…” you hesitated for a second, looking Nemuri up and down. “Do you want to stay over? I don’t think you’re in any shape to get home alone,” you tried not to sound too worried.

“Don’t worry, I already called a taxi,” she replied with the self-assured tone that only appeared with alcohol. “Besides, no one would dare do anything to me.”

“All right, take care,” you said, moving in to hug her over the shoulder. You turned around and entered your apartment, glancing back one last time at Nemuri’s back. You could’ve sworn you saw someone watching you from a building, but you chalked it up to the alcohol.

Your apartment was on the third floor. Coming home always comforted you after a long day. You entered the bathroom by the entrance, first slipping off your shoes. Your clothes quickly fell to the bathroom floor, your tired body heading straight for the shower. You turned it on quickly, relaxing as the warm water ran over you.

After your shower and slipping into your pajamas, you went straight to bed, sliding under the covers skillfully. Your eyes closed, but after a few minutes, you couldn’t fall asleep. Alcohol, though you’d never admit it to anyone, always made you feel warm. Your hand drifted softly toward your inner thighs, but before you could take care of yourself, a meow distracted you. Cotton, your cat, had decided he wanted to sleep on top of you tonight. You gave up on your plan, simply curling up to hug your furry companion, and soon you drifted off to sleep.

♡ㅤ♡ㅤ♡

The next day you woke up with a slight hangover but carried on with your routine as usual, and soon you were almost at U.A. You walked through the large gates, greeting several students and teachers—nothing out of the ordinary—until you came across Aizawa in the hallway. It was only a second you locked eyes, but you could’ve sworn he looked happy despite his tired expression.

Hours passed, and as usual on Thursdays, you were the last one in the teachers’ lounge. Thursdays were when you organized your classes for the week. You gathered your things—including your laptop—put them into your bag, and grabbed your last cup of coffee for the day. You really needed to cut back on coffee, you thought as you headed out.

As you walked toward your car in the parking lot, your skin prickled with the sensation of being watched. You steeled yourself and turned around; no one was there. You looked around, and a presence behind you startled you.

“Did I scare you?” Aizawa asked in a soft tone.

“I… I’m fine…” your voice came out as a whisper as you tried to catch your breath.

Aizawa looked at you with concern. “Do you want me to walk you to your car?”

“Yes, please.” You looked at him gratefully. You felt his gaze stay on you during the short walk, but it didn’t surprise you; you assumed it was his protective nature.

After getting into your car and starting the engine—thanking Aizawa for his presence—the feeling of being watched didn’t stop, not even after you parked in front of your apartment and went inside. You locked the door and checked every room and window, but the feeling remained as strong as ever. You wished Nemuri or Aizawa were with you to feel safer.

You stroked Cotton, who was softly asking for affection, for a few moments before going to take a shower. Afterward, you went to the fridge to take out the dinner you’d prepared in the morning to save time. You ate a few bites, but a slight headache bothered you. You wanted to stop eating, but you forced yourself to continue because at your last doctor’s appointment you’d been told to take better care of your diet.

After a few seconds of forcing yourself to eat, you felt so unwell that you stood to go to the bathroom but collapsed to the floor after only two steps. You couldn’t understand why you felt so tired and weak; your nails scraped the floor as your vision began to blur.

Then panic set in. What if you were having a heart attack? What if you died and no one found you for days? You tried to stand and reach for your phone, but the headache distracted you.

Am I going to die? you lamented that your quirk wasn’t of any help in this situation. Without realizing it, you fainted.

The last thing you felt was a soft scent of coffee and cinnamon.

Chapter 1