#bad morals

You don’t watch your surroundings as intently as Aizawa does - a woman sniffles in an alleyway as the two of you pass by, and Aizawa’s immediately on high alert at the sound, looking for potential traps or incoming enemies. You didn’t even register the sound. 

Thankfully, you’re not as loud as Hizashi, and when Aizawa holds his hand up to signal you to shut up, you do, immediately clamping you mouth shut with an audible click. At least you can follow orders.

You have no idea of stealth, footsteps falling heavy as you walk, swinging your arms jauntily and seemingly uncaring of who sees you. It makes Aizawa’s blood boil. You sit there, patting yourself on the back about what a good hero you are, yet you’re barely better than a bad sidekick. A sidekick Aizawa wouldn’t-doesn’t  want tagging along.

After the third time of you bumping into him after he’s stopped to listen to the sounds of the city, high on the rooftops, Aizawa wants to give you a pinch, scold you for not being ready for hero work, tell you the truth about your “skills” and how good of a hero you really are.

But he’s a patient man, and he knows how to calm his irritation by taking deep breaths. Lord knows his students test his resolve to resort to corporal punishment, so he should reign himself in from considering using it with you. Still, you’re an annoying, young little thing - excited and prideful, trying to show off to the older hero.

Aizawa can deal with it though, as long as he ignores your blunders.

The way you talk too much, how you don’t pay attention, the way you constantly bump into him because you haven’t realized he’s stopped in his tracks. You’re foolish.

It’s not until you almost push him off the edge of a building with your mindless blundering does Aizawa lose his patience.

The man rounds on you, blood pumping quick and fast in his heart from the adrenaline of teetering over the edge, feeling himself about to fall. He probably could’ve caught himself with his capture weapon, but what if he hadn’t? Your stupid mistake could’ve cost him his life, his career.

It takes him less than a second to have your wrists tangled up in his capture weapon, dragging you towards him so he can tower over you, fisting a hand in your hair.

“You’re a shitty hero.” Is all he says, pushing you to the side. Aizawa knows that will sting more than anything else he could say - it’s obvious that you look up to the older man. He wouldn’t put it past you to be the one who begged your agency to dump you on him for the night, so you could talk to him, learn some trade secrets, gush to your little hero friends how you were “trained” by Eraserhead himself.

He’s expecting you to be indignant, to try and argue your case. What he’s not expecting, is for you to attack him as soon as he retracts his capture weapon back onto his neck.

It’s almost laughable, how bad you are at fighting. He can hear you run at him, anticipates the first swing you take at his back, easily tucks forward and out of your reach. When he turns, you're standing there, chest heaving (Your suit really doesn’t leave anything to the imagination, does it? He wonders if it’s something your agency chose, or if it’s a personal preference) as you stare at him with a fire in your eyes.

“You have no right to say that to me.” You grind out, before running at him again.

Now that Aizawa can see you, it’s even easier to dodge your attack, ducking and blocking each punch or kick with ease. “I wouldn’t even want you for a sidekick. You’re sloppy-”

He jabs his fist into your side, and you let out a pained gasp.

“Poorly trained-”

A quick backhand across your face sends you reeling, and Aizawa sighs. He didn’t even put that much force behind it.

“Dangerously prideful-”

His capture weapon whips around your legs, tangling them and pulling them right out from under you. Aizawa moves to yours side, crouching by your head so he can see your eyes.

“And unfit to be a hero.”

You’re winded, but despite that, you thrash, infuriated by the words. You try to strike out at Aizawa, but you find yourself quickly wrapped up in his capture weapon, immobilized. 

“Instead of doing important work, trying to keep this city safe, I have to deal with an arrogant brat.”

Aizawa stands up, using his capture weapon to drag you to your feet as well. He takes less than a moment to stride to the edge of the building, pulling you along with him, making you stumble.

With a flick of his wrist, you’re leaning out over the edge, the only thing stopping you from falling being Aizawa’s capture weapon wrapped around your wrists, lacing over your chest, holding you back.

He hears you squeak in fear, watches you go completely still as he holds you there, lets you feel the fear of being dangled above the edge, flirting with the height.

“You saw how easy it was for me to subdue you, how easily you yielded. How do you even beat villains?” Aizawa clicked his tongue. “I’m worried about the future of this city if you’re what we have to offer in terms of a hero.”

You tensed up, obviously hurt by the words. Aizawa felt no remorse - he truly was disquieted when faced with the knowledge that people like you were the next generation of peace-keepers.

With a jerk jerk, you were yanked away from the edge, landing on your butt, air whooshing out of your lungs in a gasp. Aizawa crouched down behind you, leaning close, letting you feel the heat of his body.

“Do you know what would happen if a villain had you tied up like this?”

You quickly shook your head, silent. Aizawa almost wanted to laugh, how were you this naive? 

He let his hands rest on your shoulders, let them slowly slide down to your exposed collarbones, further, down to the tops of your breasts.

“Stop... please...” You whispered, frozen.

Aizawa huffed. “A villain wouldn’t stop. You’d be powerless against one. I doubt the “villains” you’ve been taking down could even be classified as such.” 

He let his hands drop even further, until he could feel the weight of your breasts in his hands, thinly covered by your costume.

“Let me guess, they’ve all been petty criminals? Bicycle thieves... pickpockets... People who accidentally let the parking meter run out?” He chuckled.

Aizawa kneaded your tits, the warm flesh pliant, soft, delicious. Your nipples were hardening under his touch, pressing against your suit, peaking into solid shapes against your chest. He let his touch focus on them, rolling and pinching the little buds until you were whining beneath his hands, squirming in discomfort as he played with your tits.

“A real villain would have so much fun with you. You’d be so easy, so effortless to hold down. They could do whatever they wanted to you.” He purred into your ear.

You relaxed when Aizawa pulled his hands away, stood up to circle around to your front. You thought he was done, thought he would let you free from his capture weapon. You thought wrong. 

The man sat down in front of you, leaning back easily onto his ankles. You were quickly pulled into his lap, crying out at the way he jerked you closer to him, until your fronts were pressed together, until he was pinching and massaging your plump rear.

“What a shame, loosing an untrained hero to a villain. If you’re really unlucky, they won’t kill you once they’re finished with your body.” Aizawa watched you shiver. “No, they’ll keep you alive, and in the clutches of evil men? that’s much, much worse than death.”

Your suit exposed your legs, had a short, flashy skirt that barely covered your ass. Underneath, a flimsy leotard protected your modesty, easily pulled to the side.

A panicked whine tore from your lungs as you felt Aizawa’s thick finger ghost along your folds, rubbing the delicate flesh, acquainting himself with the feel of a tender young body. 

The hand on your ass was still groping, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer, until you have to turn your face to the side, chin hooking over the man’s shoulder. Aizawa nuzzled your neck, breathing in the subtle scent that covered your body, some type of perfume, a scent he couldn’t place, but pleasant nonetheless. 

When he felt wetness slowly beginning to seep from your cunt, Aizawa grinned, rolling his eyes. You would be eaten up by a villain, completely destroyed. 

He slipped his pointer finger inside, circling his thumb against your clit as he did so, shushing your frightened noises at the unexpected intrusion.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if a villain targeted you. With a costume like this? Your obvious inexperience? The way you boast and brag about what a big girl you are, how proficient you are at taking down big, bad criminals?”

Another finger slipped inside, stretching you wide. You were so warm, so soft, squeezing his fingers like you were trying to suck him in. It was almost like your pussy was desperate for more, aching for something bigger. 

But Aizawa had standards, morals. He just wanted to scare you a bit, not ruin you completely. 

With two fingers inside of you, he stroked along your velvety walls, searching for the special little spot he knew would make you squeal. You were trembling, draped against his body like a rag doll, hips twitching ever so slightly when he did something you liked.

He tapped your clit again with his thumb, and you stifled a moan. Aizawa resisted the urge to smile; you were so easy.

As his fingers explored your cunt, probing and stretching and scissoring you open, he let his lips attach onto your neck. He could let himself indulge a little - after all, your agency had insisted you come along, even after he told them no.

With a shrill cry, you bucked into his hand, trying to press your hips down further. Aizawa hooked his fingers again, pressing down on the spot he had just rubbed with his fingers, and you yelped again, rocking down, fucking yourself against his thick digits.

He found it.

Starting slowly, the man began fingerfucking you, making sure to hit the spongy, sensitive spot that had you moaning and crying, shaking in his arms.

He found himself quickly loosing patience, especially with the way you wiggled and fidgeted in his lap, trying to chase the sensation his fingers provided.

With no warning (not that he’d given you one once throughout this experience), Aizawa went from his slow, gentle pace, to one that made his forearm flex, one that made your back arch and your toes curl in those impractical, stupid high heels.

You were quickly reduced to mush, able to do nothing but let Aizawa fuck you to tears with his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could feel it, how you were almost there. You clenched down on his fingers, sweat shined across your skin, you were absolutely gushing with your creamy wetness, the liquid sliding down his hand and soaking into his pants.

Messy.

Another few quick, hard flicks of his wrist, and suddenly you were squirting, forcing his fingers out of your pussy, writhing from the stimulation. A stream of wet was forced out of you, spraying all over his pants, his hand, the concrete of the rooftop. 

Your legs shook with the force of it, eyes rolling back in your head. Aizawa knew  you were lost in pleasure, so far gone you couldn’t do much but moan and gurgle brokenly as you slowly came down from your orgasm.

He let you lean against him for a few moments longer, let you pant into his ear, felt your sweaty skin stick to his own. 

But he was tired, and he wanted to finish patrolling, and you were barely more than a nuisance, and he needed to find somewhere to jerk off.

He wasn’t a rapist, after all.

So with gentle hands, Aizawa untied you from his capture weapon, slowly sliding you off his lap and onto the ground. He gave you a few moments to collect yourself, rising to his feet to turn and give you privacy as you righted your costume, smoothed down your frazzled appearance, caught your breath.

He was so hard.

When you finally joined his side, you were meek, quiet, subdued. Aizawa barely glanced at you (If he did, he might do something he’d regret, not that he already hasn’t) before striding forward, moving with purpose towards the next roof top.

Hopefully, you’d learned your lesson, and wouldn’t run your mouth so much.

Hopefully, you’d train harder, try to strengthen your fighting style.

Hopefully, Aizawa found somewhere he could jerk off, before his primal urges coerced him into doing something more befitting of a villain.