Title: Of Heroes and Villains
Author: The Emcee
Rating: M for sexual content and other mature themes
Disclaimer: I don't own My Hero Academia, its characters, the fandom, or anything. This is a work of fiction based off of the series A Song of Ice and Fire.
Summary: It all started with a funeral and a wedding. Izuku barely had enough time to properly grieve for his recently deceased father figure before he was married off to one of the villain kings, Eraserhead. But there was nothing he could do; he was trapped.
A/N: This is a work of fiction that has homosexual content, so if that disgusts you then don't read this. However, if you do read this then let me know what you think in the towel section down below or if there are any mistakes I've made. Enjoy!
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Of Heroes and Villains
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Chapter 1
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The sun shone brightly as it began to slowly set, it's light stretching across the horizon and causing the sky to bleed red, orange, blue, and purple. Sunsets were always beautiful in the city of Hiiroo, capital of Yuuei, but that wasn't the case today. Not for Midoriya Izuku.
Just as the sun had started to rise, his adoptive father, Yagi Toshinori, had been laid to rest in the royal crypts below the King's Keep. The funeral, which should have been long and ceremonious had been cut incredibly short in order to accommodate Izuku's wedding, which had just concluded, thus marking the beginning of the reception party. Around him, people were eating and drinking and dancing and singing merrily, yet Izuku was anything but happy. If anything, he was still stunned and numbed by Toshinori's passing.
Yes, he had known that his father was going to die. He had been severely ill for quite some time, but that didn't make his death any less traumatic. Toshinori had been his only family since his mother's death, when he was barely four years of age. And now, he was gone. Izuku didn't even have the time to grieve. As soon as the crypt was closed, he was ushered off to his bed chamber to change into his wedding clothes, a simple white tunic and trouser combination with soft leather shoes. It wasn't a comfort to him that the man he was marrying was one of the villain kings, Eraserhead.
Villains were not allowed to live within the wall that surrounded Yuuei, cutting it off from the villains' territory. Only heroes and their offspring were allowed to reside within Yuuei's boarders, unless they became villains; then they were banished to the outlands. No one was sure how many tribes of villains there were, but the tribe that Eraserhead led was one of the largest, strongest, and most problematic for the heroes of Yuuei.
After years of battles and casualties, Toshinori and Aizawa Shouta, Eraserhead himself, met to discuss a peace treaty. That meeting ended with them both shaking hands with a look of triumph in both of their eyes and Izuku gaining a fiancé. While he may not share blood with the late king, Izuku was named Toshinori's heir and as such would come into the throne upon his sixteenth name day, which was one year away.
Before that, however, he would live with his husband, travel with him, learn about them and, hopefully, be able to blend them into Yuuei's society somewhere along the line. That was the entire purpose for his marriage to Aizawa after all; to bridge the gaps between the heroes of Yuuei and the villains of the outlands. It would take time, Izuku had been told by his father, but it was possible. According to Toshinori, the future would start with him and his future offspring.
But right now, all Izuku could do was scream internally. Everything had gone by so fast that he barely had the opportunity to catch up and breathe. Formally meeting his husband had been utterly terrifying. Aizawa was taller than him, lean but with a hint of muscle underneath his black attire, and his eyes bore into Izuku's soul. Those eyes were so unfeeling and cold that it made him shiver. Never before had he seen such eyes and they above all else about his husband chilled him to the bone.
Glancing sideways at Aizawa, who was seated beside him, Izuku noticed that no song or joke or dance seemed to bring any sort of light or life from his eyes. None of the gifts or the people who set them before their platform brought any sort of emotion to him. Every once in a while, those eyes would narrow, but Izuku didn't know why they would. He was too afraid and nauseated to speak; all he could do was scream inside of his own head.
One set down on the wedding platform, Todoroki Shouto and his father, Enji, commonly preferred to as Endeavor, were seated. Izuku wanted nothing more than to crawl down to his best friend and hide behind him. Shouto, as son of the Hand of the King, grew up in the castle along with Izuku and they became good friends; best friends as a matter of fact. For the longest time, Toshinori and Endeavor had been going back and forth about a possible marriage between Shouto and Izuku, and truthfully Izuku would have preferred that over his current one. He didn't know whether he was in love with Shouto or not, though he did love him, but he mostly desired a marriage to him simply because he was familiar, kind, and good.
Izuku didn't know Aizawa. He didn't know whether or not he was honorable or kind or cruel and bloodthirsty. All he knew was that Aizawa was a villain to be feared, a man who could cancel any heroes' quirk just by looking at them, and there weren't many who tried to get in his way in the outlands. Or so he had heard. Whatever happened beyond the walls that confined Yuuei were a mystery to all those who resided within it. Only the villains knew what happened there or what the terrain was like.
And now, Izuku would be living in that world until his next name day.
All of these plans and expectations had been made without his consent or input, not that it mattered. He was quirkless and therefore considered by most to be a secondary citizen; at least, he would have been had his father not been the king. Since Toshinori had ascended the throne, laws had changed. A quirkless person could come into the throne if it was their right and if they were named the heir; his father had made it so that Izuku would rule when he passed. All in order to keep the throne out of Endeavor's hands, who hadn't been subtle about his desire to sit on it.
From what Izuku saw and from what his father had told him, Endeavor always had a chip on his shoulder, believing he was a better hero and leader than Toshinori ever was. But the abuse of his wife and children and the fact that he wasn't bore or married into the royal family ensured that he would never sit on the throne. In theory. For a long time Toshinori had believed that Endeavor was plotting to take the throne upon his death, and so he saw a solution that allowed him to solve two problems with one answer. Instead of practically handing Izuku over to Endeavor by marrying him to Shouto, he would wed Aizawa, one of the most feared and infamous villains alive, and bring the tensions between the two factions to an end.
"Ah, Hitoshi," came Aizawa's voice from beside him.
Izuku blinked and turned his head slightly to the left. A tall boy with untamed lilac hair and eyes that resembled his husband's. He didn't bow to Aizawa or greet him like he was the leader of their tribe. Instead, his posture and tone of voice had a familiarity to them that Izuku recognized immediately.
"My apologies for missing the wedding ceremony, Father," Hitoshi said. "My…assignment took longer than I expected." His eyes glanced over at Izuku for a brief moment, which caused Izuku to shift uncomfortably in his seat.
"That doesn't matter to me so long as it was successful," Aizawa answered, his face softening as he spoke to his son. Izuku never thought his husband was capable of such affection, but he found himself a bit relieved. Perhaps he wasn't as cold and unfeeling as Izuku believed him to be.
"It was," Hitoshi confirmed and sat down on his father's left, where his personal guard would sit. Izuku saw Endeavor bristle at the act. The man wasn't used to being beneath a villain in any way.
The sun was set now and fires were burning bright, lighting the celebration. Aizawa's tribe has set up camp in the large, expansive fighting pit outside of the castle walls. As villains, they weren't trusted to be within the keeps and near so many valuables, so being outside was nicer than being cooped up in the castle. Past the see of dancers, singers, and people still eating, were the tents where the tribe would sleep that night before packing up upon sunrise and leaving the city. Villain tribes, apparently, didn't stay in one place too long until the winter time, then they would remain in their homes until the last snows had melted. Or so Izuku had read.
Aizawa stood up and stared down at Izuku. Clearly, it was time for the part Izuku had been dreading the most. Slowly, reluctantly, he stood up and, after taking Aizawa's hand, followed him down the platform and through the sea of people, all of whom quickly stepped out of their way. Behind them, Hitoshi followed at a distance, clearly keeping guard from any threats that may come their way.
Once they had passed the sea of bodies and entered the sea of tents, the celebration started again. Music and song echoed throughout the dark night. With every step he took, the fear and dread Izuku had been feeling all day began to bubble to the surface. He could feel his body shaking; he could feel the tears streaming down his face. His hand felt so small and fragile in Aizawa's own, which was larger, with more scars and callouses. The older man lead them to the center of the tent sea to where his own tent was, which was a bit larger, but still looked the same as every other in the area.
Hitoshi helped his father pull the tent flaps back to allow Aizawa and Izuku enter. Izuku assumed he stood guard at the parting of the flaps, but he didn't have time to dwell on it, and he didn't really care either. All of his energy was focusing on not breaking down completely in front of his new husband. Aizawa let go of his hand and it fell limply to his side. He listened as the older man began removing his clothes and his trembling got worse and a soft sob escaped his lips.
"Stop crying. You knew this would happen. It would irrational of you to think it wouldn't," Aizawa said behind him. It was almost as though he were speaking directly into his ear, though Izuku couldn't feel him so close. Perhaps it was his nerves.
Despite his words, his tone wasn't overly cruel or harsh. Aizawa stepped in front of Izuku, naked as the day he was born, lean and fit and hard as a rock, towering over him and peering down with his emotionless eyes. A brought a hand up and Izuku flinched, closing his eyes, expecting to be struck. Instead, he felt a feather light caress across his right cheek, wiping away the tears that fell. Then his head was cupped by both hands and he forced to look at the older man. Izuku's eyes opened and he watched at Aizawa scrutinized him, his eyes tracing every line of his head, every hair on his head.
Those hands eventually traveled down to his neck and then his shoulders. They gripped the white tunic and the flesh beneath it, massaging it gently. Despite his dread and tears, Izuku found that he didn't dislike Aizawa's hands touching his body, nor could he deny the tiny, barely present sparks that jolted throughout his body. That didn't mean he wasn't afraid however.
Without any further hesitation, Aizawa easily ripped the tunic apart and allowed the thin fabric to fall to the ground around Izuku's feet. With his chest bare, Izuku felt his face flush and he was tempted to hide himself with his arms, but he didn't. He could barely move, as a matter of fact, and all he could do was watch as Aizawa's hands caressed down his arms, his touch still gentle and light. They ran up Izuku's arms again before moving to his chest, exploring it with a gaze that was intense and almost seemed hungry. Or perhaps that was just Izuku's mind playing tricks on him in his distressed stay.
Fingers twirled around his nipples and pinched them, not enough to cause pain, but enough to earn a barely audible gasp from Izuku. A slight smirk crossed Aizawa's face as that tiny noise and he stepped closer, so close that if Izuku raised his hand half way, he would be touching him. Things continued that way for some time, with Aizawa pinch and flicking his nipples and then running down and up his sides before returning to torment them again.
At this point, something Izuku had never really experienced began to boil inside of him. Prior to tonight, Izuku had never found the need or desire to explore himself sexually. Most of his time had been spent studying and training with his father before he got severely sick, and then most of his time was spent helping to care for him. Even with Shouto close at hand, handsome and kind and sweet as always, Izuku never felt the pull to do anything.
Now that he had no real choice in the matter, he couldn't ignore the feeling in his stomach. It was like a heat that was threatening to rise and overtake him. An excitement he was unaccustomed to surged through his veins and made him want to reach out and touch his husband. But he still couldn't. The fear and dread hadn't been quelled and they kept him in control of his body.
Those hands traveled down to the hem of his trousers and danced there for a moment before being forced down Izuku's legs. Stepping out of his trousers and shoes, Izuku was now completely bare before the older man, who started circling him until he was right behind him. Izuku could feel Aizawa press his body close enough so that the tip of his cock brushed against his ass. Hands settled on his hips and caressed the soft skin there before Izuku was ushered to the cot a few feet away.
He was pressed down onto his hands and knees, his ass present to the cool night air, making him shiver. Aizawa sat down on his knees behind him and Izuku heard him take the lid off of small pot on the table that sat nearby the cot. Then, fingers dipped in a cold, sweet smelling oil began to probe his entrance, swirling around it before sliding inside. A hiss escape him as those fingers plunged deep into his body and moved, scissoring and stretching him. Every once in a while, they would barely brush against something inside of Izuku and made him whimper as pleasure surged through his body. That fire was rising even more and as much as he was loath to admit it, he was a roused. His cock was leaking precum onto the soft blankets below him.
After a few minutes of preparation, Aizawa withdrew his fingers and Izuku heard his lather his cock with the oil. His gut clenched in horrible anticipation; he knew that his husband's cock was far bigger than his fingers. It would hurt far more. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. Despite his own body betraying him, Izuku still didn't want to be married to this man; he didn't want to be here, in this tent, naked and alone with him. He wanted to be in his bed and given time to grieve for his father. But he couldn't and wouldn't return to his bed for quite some time.
Whether he liked it or not, this was his reality now.
He cried out in pain when Aizawa entered him, his cock seated fully inside of him and pressing against the pleasurable bundle. The pain overwhelmed the pleasure and more tears spilled from his eyes. There was no reprieve for him, however, as his husband pulled out and swiftly thrust back into him. Izuku listened to the grunts and groans of the older man as he fucked him, his fingers gripping his hips tightly. Aizawa didn't touch Izuku, didn't whisper any words of comfort or kindness. All he did was thrust in and out of Izuku, using his body as something to fuck and deposit his seed. There was no love; why would there be? Neither of them loved the other.
When Aizawa lifted Izuku's ass higher and caused him to go down to his elbows, he began hitting that pleasurable bundle of nerves with every thrust. His thrusts were getting more erratic and harder, almost as though his very life depended on fucking Izuku into oblivion. Pleasure blinded Izuku and though he tried to reject it, he couldn't. It was too much for him.
With a soft cry that was drowned out by his husband's own sounds of pleasure, he came onto the blanket, his body tensing and stiffening. It seemed that Aizawa enjoyed that because his pace increased even more and before too long, he came deep inside of Izuku, his seed being planted as far as it could. He continued thrusting in and out as he came, riding out his orgasm.
After a moment or two, his body stilled and he leaned down slightly, his arms supporting his body. Sweat dripped down Aizawa's body, but Izuku wasn't thinking about that. Actually, he wasn't thinking about anything. He was panting softly, his body now so very sensitive to anything that touched it. That was how he knew Aizawa was still half hard inside of him, and that fact alone made dread creep back into his bones.
Sure enough, he felt Aizawa move behind him, pulling out slightly before burying his cock in Izuku's body once more. His body rocked and swayed with the force of Aizawa's fucking and all he could do was watch the blank canvas of the tent and take it for as long as his husband wanted it.