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AIZAWA, WHO
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oh, aizawa shōta is far from a hero. he feels as if he doesn't deserve the whispers and murmurs about the great hero who erased quirks as long as he stares hard to his enemy. the bags under his eyes and the redness of his pupils prove that he looks far from a hero. he isn't a hero. he doesn't deserve to become a hero.
but he doesn't need to become a hero.
the way your skin meets his skin is enough. the way your fingers thread to his black locks and the way you throw your head back because of the pleasure he gives youーthat alone is enough for him, and that alone satisfies him.
he lets his hips thrust against your own, a hazy breathe leaving your lips. the pleasure rushes to your head and you wrap your legs around his waist in instict.
how many times have you two done this?
he can't count.
he leans down to press his forehead against your own but his hips don't stop. he keeps on pressing against the spots he remembers to make you jolt and arch your back. he knows you like it and although the weight of gravity against his back makes him want to fall down on your body and just stop, he doesn't let gravity consume him.
"shōta," you whisper.
it riles him up.
he lets his hands roam around your body, grazing against your chest and your stomach, grazing against your southern region wherein he can see himself connected with you, grazing against your legs that wrap tightly around him, and grazing against your lips which are plumped and throbbing because of the kisses you two have shared.
he listens to his name being repeated over and over again by his lover. shōtashōtashōtashōta, over and over again ringing in his ears as he feels as if he is just aizawa shōta. he is just the boy who is called aizawa shōta for once. he is aizawa shōta. he is the lover of the panting beauty beneath him. he is aizawa shōta.
"aizawa-sensei!" no, he's not that.
"it's eraserhead!" he's not that either.
"woah, he's so cool!" he thinks he isn't.
"it's a pro-hero! look!" he is not a hero.
"shōta!"
he wants to hear that again.
"shōta!"
let him hear his name.
"shōta!"
he falls on top of his lover and ignores the whines that complain about his weight against their own. he lets himself snuggle against the warmth and you are take aback for a moment. you smile, however, and run your fingers through his rsven locks.
"shōta," you mumbled, "i love you."
aizawa feels his heart quicken but he silences it with a soft hum, snuggling closer to you. "yeah."
he closes his eyes and hears you ramble head on, and he wonders if you have that much stamina, compared to a hero.
