Aizawa Oneshots and More

Sugar, Oh Honey Honey (NSFW)

hi guys!!! I FINALLY pushed out another chapter for our sweet Aizawa here! Today is a bit of a different one, and mind you, my brain was not working while writing this so there may be mistakes or it might just seem weird HAHA anyways >.>

Requested by Ravinnxia! 

Sugar Daddy! Reader x Sugar Baby! Aizawa. Yes this means this is a MALE reader fic. I love writing these teehee. 

ALSO this is a little different au, where Aizawa is still a hero, but is less known and is younger, before he started teaching. 

Enjoy reading!

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Shota Aizawa was never in it for fame. While other heroes built their names with flashy quirks and grandstanding, he preferred to work in the shadows, cleaning up the streets without expecting gratitude in return. He's not an underground hero – not officially – but his reputation isn't one that commanded high-paying agency deals or sponsorships. And that's fine. He fights for justice, not for money.

Or at least, that's what he tells himself.

Rent is due. The electricity bill has a big red stamp on it. His fridge is nearly empty save for a few energy drinks and a half-eaten carton of takeout. His mother and sister are struggling too, barely making ends meet. And Aizawa? He's stretched thin, running on caffeine and sheer willpower, juggling patrols, side jobs, and whatever freelance hero work he can find.

It isn't enough.

And yet, he still finds time to save people.

It had been a routine patrol when he spots the attack – an older man cornered in a dead-end alley by a villain with a knife and an unpredictable quirk. Aizawa didn't think twice, stepping in with practiced ease. A flick of his capture weapon, a swift takedown, and the fight is over before it could truly begin.

The man – well dressed, clearly well off – had stared at him with gratitude, brushing dust off his sleeves. "I owe you one."

Aizawa simply shrugs. "Just doing my job."

"No, really," the man insists. "If there's anything I can do—"

"Forget it," Aizawa interrupted, already walking away. He didn't do this for rewards. He never has.

But maybe he should have.

Weeks pass, and the weight of his situation only grows heavier. The final straw comes when he sits in his dimly lit apartment, staring at his stack of unpaid bills, rubbing his temples as he tries to figure out how much longer he can hold out before things get dire.

"You look like hell," Midnight remarks, lounging on his couch with a cup of instant coffee in hand. She has a key to his place – he has long since stopped questioning why or how. "And not the hot, broody kind. The 'I might actually pass out in an alley' kind."

Aizawa sighs. "I'm fine."

"You're a terrible liar." She takes a sip, eyeing him over the rim of her cup. "What's going on?"

He hesitates. Midnight could be a menace, but she's also his closest friend. Finally, he exhales sharply. "Money. It's bad."

Her teasing demeanor shifts ever so slightly, replaced by something more thoughtful. "How bad?"

"Barely making it," he admits. "Between hero work and side gigs, it's not enough. My mom and sister need help too, and..." he rubs his eyes. "I don't know what else to do."

Midnight leans back, tapping her fingers against her cup. "Well... there is something you could do." A slow, knowing smirk creeps onto her face.

Aizawa immediately regrets opening up to her. "No."