Bound Rebound - Aizawa x 3rd person reader

by LilithTheGardener

Bound / Rebound: Aizawa x 3rd person reader smutty fic. No name, no hair/eye/skin color for easy self-insert. Artist credit: @Nakamu 405. - "You won't remember his name when I'm done," He murmured against her skin, his eyes hooded with lazy arrogance, a smirk creeping across his lips.

3. Chapter 3

𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ／ 𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕

[Ch 3 Bound/Rebound - Aizawa x 3rd person reader smutty fanfic. No name (except hero name), no hair/eye/skin color for easy self-insert. Tiktok followers chose the kinks and pet names for this chapter, and I used some lines from Tiktok sounds they sent me! Per requests, we REALLY lay into some heavy BREEDING KINK for Ch 3 and mid-fantasy talk of 'trapping' but I'll *never* knock up a character, don't worry, ahaha. Also per my followers' request: we're gonna let 'Daddy' slip for the first time. Usual tags: Brat taming, praise kink, consensual kink, dub-con, angsty smut with added fluff and plot. Chapter goes as follows: Smut, plot, smut, plot. / Song LYRICS / used in this chapter are from the list at the bottom. They are 𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖘 + v͓̽i͓̽b͓̽e͓̽s͓̽]

Aizawa awoke to her exasperated sigh as she tried to disentangle herself from him, finding the arms that encased her torso kept her body firmly pressed on top of his. He wound one limb tighter around her waist rather than release her, his other hand grabbing blindly for either of their phones on the low coffee table – it was 5am. "Too early," he growled into her hair, letting the phone fall into her outstretched hands before turning their bodies so she was trapped between him and the back of the couch.

She scrambled against him chest-to-chest, trying to wriggle her way out of his grip as his body rumbled in disapproval, ignoring the possessive way he clung to her…until he bit into her shoulder through her shirt. "That's enough! It's my first day, remember?" She jammed the heel of her palm under his chin to slowly pry his head up, unnerved by the wicked grin he kept lying in wait on his face. Her breath hitched momentarily seeing the way his eyes raked down her with clear intent, and while she willed away the urge to give in, willpower wasn't enough to keep her cheeks from warming.

His gaze zeroed in on the blushing hue instantly, causing her to ramble as a form of distraction. "And it's, what, a week before the end of first term? My notes said there would be intensive student training my initial 5 days for the first year kids…they are honing their special moves before provisional license exams, right?" She avoided acknowledging his intrusive stare, busying herself with queueing up a playlist and syncing to the handful of speakers spread throughout her apartment. She wasn't about to let his presence interrupt her morning ritual, especially when that sense of normalcy had been sorely missed the last few weeks.

/ Don't know what you got, but I thought we had it. Now I'm supposed to act like it doesn't matter? /

More sad songs meant Vlad was still on her mind, he thought as his brows pulled together in a momentary lapse of jealous need. "Do you think I want to talk about work right now?" His eyes flicked up from admiring her cheeks to give her a warning look, his voice deep and gravelly with that lazy haze, managing to sound indifferent. "If you can't fall back asleep, I have a few things we could try," his head dove back down, stubble tickling her skin as he murmured into her neck, determined to be her sole reprieve.

/ Some day I'll go to bed and I'll forget I'm lying in your spot… But until 'some day' comes, I'll be writing sad songs. /

She showed clear hesitation, her mind somewhere else, evident by the way her gaze fell on the empty bed frame sitting in her unused bedroom across the apartment.

He exhaled noisily, the sound tapered with a thoughtful 'hm,' wondering if she chose the song or if it came up at random. "I can be a very persuasive distraction," Aizawa's free hand slid behind her to fist her hair, forcing her head to tilt back, baring her neck to him. His tongue peeked out, running the full length up until he reached her jawline, leaving a wake of pin-pricked skin that seemed to spread over the rest of her body. "Cold, kitten?" He asked, withholding a laugh at the back of his throat when her expression went wide-eyed and flushed.

/ Is it you? Is it me? Did you find somebody better?

Someone who isn't me, 'cause I know that I was never your type… Never really your type. /

"Shower," she squeaked out breathlessly, saying the first coherent word to come to mind. "I…I need to get up. I have to shower, get ready…find my hero suit and physician's coat in all these boxes." She had to close her eyes tightly to form the still-incomplete sentences, afraid she'd get drawn into this all over again. Last night was the 'last time,' she kept telling herself – why make it harder to stop? Her fingers moved to hold the hem of her shirt down, his unseen hand already trying to lift it up and over her head, "We work together now, Eraserhead."

/ Tell me what you hate about me. Whatever it is, I'm sorry.

I know I can be dramatic, but everybody said we had it. /

Aizawa's body froze mid-movement, the lyrics and her use of his hero name grating. His sudden rigidity prompted her to open her eyes, tentative, squinting up at him through her reluctance, afraid the rejection would sting – did she truly think he'd react so poorly? His ego wasn't easily wounded, but his restraint was wearing thin.

/ I'm coming to terms with a broken heart,

I guess that sometimes good things fall apart. /

Only his eyes shifted at first, locking on her before his head tilted in consideration, tensing as he debated his next move. Her cheeks were burning under his penetrating gaze, blushing prettily for him. "I don't intend for our after school activities to interfere with our jobs," he finally said with a languid but confident smile. Aizawa pulled back all the same though, trying to appear aloof, unwinding his arms from her and stretching generously before sitting up. But he kept one sleepy eye open to track every movement and flicker of emotion – he'd pounce at the first sign of her resolve eroding.

She held her breath as he stared, something inherently thrilling about the way he watched her – was it predatory, observing his prey before striking? Or was he genuinely trying to get a read on her? Which was worse? "Intentions aren't all that matter." The last thing she needed was to get caught up in her feelings and fall for a rebound – no, a coworker. But her gaze refocused, unable to tear her eyes away from the way his stretching body lengthened and planes of muscle rippled.

He arched a brow at her and rose from the couch, sweeping his long black hair out of his face by combing his fingers through it. Aizawa followed her line of sight as she sat up, watching it linger where the outline of his morning-erect cock strained against the fabric of his undone pants. Her actions did not match her words, giving him just enough room to toe the line as her music wound down. "Do you think I can't separate business from pleasure, kitten?" he murmured the question, making his voice low and menacing.

She rolled her eyes at the loaded question before her gaze flitted back up to him, only realizing then that he had seen her staring. The flippant gesture seemed to light a fire in him, noting the way his hands twitched at his sides and how his breathing became deeper, slower, more controlled. "I think you can't resist pushing boundaries every time you see an opening," her tongue swiped across her lower lip before drawing it between her teeth, afraid she'd say something to encourage him further.

He followed the movement of her eyes and her tongue, the rigid shape of his length twitching in response until he used his hand to unabashedly adjust it, tucking himself into the elastic waistband of his boxers. "I can be professional, doll. Can't you? Or are you just naturally inclined to behave like a brat needing a firm hand?" Aizawa's hand moved from his pants to take her chin between his thumb and the knuckle of his forefinger, tipping her face up so he had an optimal view of the red still blooming across her face. His thumb lifted, pressing the pad of his finger to her lower lip and pulling it down so she was no longer biting into it shyly, dragging it down. He caught himself glaring down at it, as if her full mouth merely existing was a personal affront to him somehow.

"'Remedy,' not 'doll.' Pet names aren't very business-like, *Eraserhead,*" she started, her next thought interrupted by his thumb intruding into her mouth, slipping across the top of her tongue. The knuckle tucked under her chin pressed up so his thumb was caught between her teeth, his gaze so intensely focused on her mouth while she glared up at him. Her lips closed around the digit, tongue pressing back up into it and eliciting a groan from him just before she bit down sharply in retaliation. His lips parted but he made no sound, only stared down at her looking positively wicked with his tired eyes narrowed into slits and black hair falling in a halo around his face above her. That expression made her ache with want, a breath away from drowning in it – he was enough of a temptation that she released his thumb and swatted his hand away before rising to her feet, ready to rush off and lock herself in the bathroom until it was time to leave.

But Aizawa was quicker than her, snatching at her wrist and dragging her across the room, unbothered by the way she tried to dig her heels into the floor only to find her feet sliding across it in her socks. Her apartment was a mirror of his next door, fixtures and all – it allowed him to fling the door of her bathroom open and start up her shower in fluid, familiar motions despite the way she struggled against his other hand.

"What are you *doing,*" she sounded breathless with confusion as he cornered her between the countertop of her sink and the sliding glass doors, watching him confidently disrobe in the light that filtered through the bathroom door he had left open, the next song a gentle hum in the background that didn't reach them.

"Showering," he spoke as if it were obvious, kicking his pants away and pulling off his socks, haphazardly tossing each article behind him until he was left in his boxers, the tip of his cock peeking up from the band where he had tucked it away earlier.

"In the dark? In my apartment? *In front of me*?" Each word sounded more incredulous than the last, but he was already reaching toward her and grabbing fistfuls of her oversized sleep shirt. She gripped the hem of her shirt to keep it tugged down just as she had on the couch, her full lips pursing into a slight pout, "Because *I know* you don't think I'm about to shower with you."

"It's not so dark – Would you rather I turn on the lights?" His eyes had already adjusted to the low level of illumination and gleamed fiendishly, his head canted to the side with sincere curiosity, so certain she'd give in…if provided enough incentive. "I won't be as pretty as you are when I'm on my knees, but I can still put on a show for you." Aizawa's hands moved to yank her panties down instead, holding eye contact with her as they fell to her feet. "Shirt on or off, I'm going to throw you in either way, kitten," he warned her.

Her grasp was already weak from imagining him on his knees but faltered entirely at his words…Would one more time really be so bad? Tendrils of steam began curling overhead as he lifted the shirt up and off her, but her eyes were trained on is face – it was impossible to not be flattered by the way he stared at her body so ardently, how she could see his cheeks tinging pink even in the dimness of the small room. Just one more time, she thought as her arms dropped to hide herself in an unexpected wave of modesty, watching his eyes trail over every inch and leaving sparks of heat in their wake.

He'd only ever seen bits and pieces of her exposed with clothes pulled up or down to give him access, never once seeing the full breadth of her bare just for him. Aizawa was captivated as he looked upon her, infatuated with every lovely curve and dip, admiring the high swell of her breasts and the round of her hips. He could feel his cheeks burning but he was too far gone to care, lost in thought, his narrowed eyes hooding as his rakish expression softened into silent reverence.

"Don't do that," she whispered when his demeanor shifted from lustful to enamored, studying her in such detail that it made her skin prickle even as the bathroom was brimming with heat.

His eyes darted back to hers, that intensity fading from their depths. Too much, too soon – too obsessed. He huffed an amused breath, effortlessly changing the air about him. "Don't do what, kitten? I'm not doing anything," he lied, practically purring the words. If cold and perverted was what she wanted, it was what he'd give her just for another chance to worship at the altar of her hips – to keep her for himself a little bit longer. Aizawa hooked a thumb into the waistband of his boxers and began to pull down, her eyes instantly drawn to the movement, seeming to forget her inhibition once her focus was back on his body instead of her own.

The cut of muscle between his hips was quickly becoming a weakness for her, and the hard planes above them were just as damning – he was lithe but dense, unexpectedly built beneath the sweats she had first met him in. But all of that was secondary to what had her attention now that his boxers had fallen past his strong, thickly corded thighs. She bit her lip, engrossed with the way his hand squeezed as he stroked up his cock so a trail of white leaked out its fat tip.

"Maybe if you're very good, I'll let you have it," he murmured with a slight curve to his mouth, blatantly clear he was aware of just how thoroughly she was appreciating his size. Aizawa watched her gaze follow the way his length bobbed out of his grasp when he let go, his fingertips grazing up past the thick curls surrounding his base and into the smattering of black hair that made a path up his navel. He slid the glass door behind him aside with his other hand, clouds of steam billowing out as he tested the temperature of the water, letting it bead down his arm.

She inched closer to him, eyes still wandering, barely even registering that he was part-ways past the threshold leading into the shower. A low, rumbling chuckle sapped away her attention – but she took her time working her way looking up to his face, equally parts thrilled and dreading the smug expression she knew was waiting for her. That maddeningly lazy smile played across his lips – did she love or hate it? But the thought never finished, finding herself being drawn against his chest by his arm while his mouth claimed hers, his tongue pressing in to entwine them until her eyes fell shut.

He pulled her in with him, his back shielding her from the spray of water lest it was too hot, his lips shifting away so he could work his way down her jaw and neck. "Hmm," the sound was thoughtful at first but devolved into a deep growl, his hair now soaked and sticking to his skin, water spilling over his broad shoulders to seep between the tight press of their bodies. "Still want to kick me out, doll face?"

The shower scalded, but not nearly as heated as his glare or the way his hands moved along her. She could adjust to the temperature of the water but not him or his increasingly harsh grip, inspiring a breathy admonish that was at odds with how her back arched for more. "Just one more," she finally gave in, her voice was tight, the words coming out almost like a needy whine.

"You'll say that every time," he was triumphant and feeling his way down her form, eyes trailing after his hands, trying to commit every inch of her soft and perfect body to memory. She was curved just right in all of his favorite places – how could she expect him to resist seducing her every chance he got? Aizawa could feel her fingers scrape against his stubble before winding their way into his hair, noting the subtle downward pressure she exerted, already wanting his face between her thighs like he had promised. "Tch, so impatient. You made such a fuss about needing to clean up," he backed her into the tiled wall, pressing his hands against it next to either side of her head so that his arms and body caged her in. "I suppose I could do all the work for you…say, as a professional courtesy?" He flashed a wicked grin, enjoying watching rivets of water work their way down her skin.

"Pervert," she whispered quietly, but it was breathless with anticipation, her eyes wide and observing.

"You have no idea," he murmured, briefly reflecting on the increasing intensity behind his fantasies for her over a few mere days – but he had plenty of time to worry about that later. For now, his hands slid down the tile, following him as he sank onto his knees. She raked her hand through his hair to push it back, her cheeks blushing with the heady realization she wanted to see his face as he worked, but he was determined to draw the time out. He started out by dragging his tongue up her side, traveling from her hip up to her ribcage until she squirmed. "So cute," he snickered against her skin as he dove down to lick at her navel, her hip, her thighs, each time rewarded with a new shudder and whimper. "*Very* cute," he gave her his most infuriating smirk, holding back the stream of obsessive praise he had in favor of the patronizing tone of his simple, repetitive compliment.

He was running his tongue everywhere but where she wanted it most, *needed* it most, intentionally driving her frustration up until she was panting. Her legs pressed together, shifting, desperate to create friction for herself if he wouldn't give it to her, but her hips raised to chase the tantalizing strokes of his tongue any time he ventured close to the apex of her thighs. Her hands settled into his slicked back hair trying to gently urge his mouth towards her slit, but he resisted each time, content to gaze up at her through his dark lashes and lust-hooded eyes.

His hand reached to cup her sex, grinning behind his tongue as the wet tip slipped up her navel again when her hips bucked at the sudden touch between her legs. Aizawa's fingers stroked up and down, teasing before using them to spread her folds – but he only let the water run over her, reveling in how she was bared to him. Her legs clamped together and hips shifted away, forcing his hand to fall back, her cheeks bright red with embarrassment at the way he had stared. "Don't be shy," his thumb grazed through the small patch of curls at the top of her slit, driving down to her clit, swirling the pad of his finger around it. "Come on, kitten, spread your legs," the words weren't pleading or even a request, hovering at the edge of a command. His eyes darkened when she didn't immediately comply, speeding up the ministrations of his thumbpad until her knees involuntarily shook and thighs just barely separated. "That's it, good girl," he whispered contemptuously, knowing full well she hadn't intended to do so, but his other hand shoved its way into the narrow gap to forcibly pry her thighs apart.

She gasped as he lifted her thigh to drape across his shoulder, the change in position causing her to lean her weight into the tiled wall behind her. He kept one arm curled around that thigh to prevent her from escaping as his other hand spread her apart again, making her watch as he openly admired her. "Stop looking," she whimpered, her hands uselessly trying to push his head back but found him immovable, his stubble nuzzling into her thigh as if to wordlessly gloat.

"But it's so pretty, kitten," he smiled impishly, glancing at her flushed face. "You're so cute like this," the corner of his lips tugged up, turning his smile into a smirk with his teasingly condescending tone when he reiterated the compliment from earlier – it wouldn't do to tell her she was exquisite, not if she wanted him distant and unattached. "And why shouldn't I look?" His gaze shifted back down, taking in every sensitive, private inch. "It's mine, after all, remember?" Aizawa's tone was suddenly cold, something predatory about it making her tense.

She made to protest, but that was exactly what he was holding out for – cutting her words off into a gasp with a slow, luxurious lick from the base of her slit to her bundle of nerves, his tongue somehow hotter and wetter against her than any of the water streaming down them. Her hands were suddenly dragging him closer, clawing into his wet hair to pull him in, desperate for more.

"Sweet girl," he whispered against her with the same deplorably goading tone before drawing her clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking in tandem with the way he sucked upon it, making her cry out for him. Her thighs tried to close in around his face, wanting to keep him exactly in that spot, knowing it would send her over the edge quickest… But he did not want to give her fast relief; he wanted to build her up over and over until she broke upon his tongue. Aizawa growled, feeling her stiffen at the way the sound vibrated against her, lashing at it with his tongue until he could feel and hear she was close to climax.

She shyly avoided his gaze as he stared up at her, instead focusing on the way his lips moved indulgently around her sensitive bud, how he shamelessly nuzzled his nose into the little patch of curls above the apex of her slit, his stubble pressed into the unblemished skin of her thighs… Just having him on his knees before her was an image she secretly seared into her mind, something she could think back upon and enjoy in private when they went their separate ways. His tongue swiped against her at a brutal pace that had her core winding up with minimal effort, her little moans echoing in the acoustics of the standing shower. But just as she neared release he stilled his mouth, drawing a keening sound of displeasure from her. "No, no, please. Don't stop," she begged, "Please…Please, Sir," she even used the title he made her call him by, hoping that was the only reason he gave pause.

Aizawa withdrew, opting to turn his face and start licking at her inner thigh, never once taking his eyes off her – he enjoyed the panic that came with denying her relief just as much as he loved watching her writhe in pleasure. "Mm, don't you want to wash up first? I said I'd help you get clean but I didn't say how…not a fan of getting a tongue-bath? Maybe I should stop using it entirely," he lowered his face further between her thighs to drag his hot silken appendage along her slit, the tip of his nose nudging her swollen bud as he went. He delved in again, her taste alone compelling him to bury his face further between her thighs, practically nuzzling into her folds so he could root his tongue into her little cunt.

She felt him dip into her again and again, lapping away at any trace of wetness, his threat clearly a bluff – he had no intention of stopping so long as she behaved. But he kept murmuring unintelligible words of praise against her each time his tongue reeled back, her cheeks blazing when he noisily licked and moaned into her, purposely trying to make every sound lewd just to get a rise out of her. "Don't…too loud," she whispered the fractured thought, utterly embarrassed by how wretched he was.

"Shy little thing, aren't you, kitten?" He spread the lips of her sex apart again with his fingers, gazing up at her with a incorrigible smile, his mouth glistening and strands of his long wet hair falling back into his face. "And so bossy, trying to tell me how I'm allowed to enjoy using you," he made his tongue wide and flat to stroke it over her clit, making sure her eyes were fixed on him the whole way through. "If you wanted to come sooner, you shouldn't have given me so much time – maybe tomorrow morning you'll let us sleep in?" He watched her brow furrow with the implication that this certainly wasn't the last time, but he sharpened the tip of his tongue into a hard point to start swirling it around her bundle of nerves before she could manage to argue.

Aizawa brought her to the edge twice more until her hips were rocking back and forth, her breath keening, every begging 'please' a needy and urgent whine. But he held her in place, not allowing her to peak and keeping her at that precipice so long and so many times it was nearly painful. There was a despicable satisfaction he got out of making her cry out for more until she was ragged, denying her that release, edging her to the next peak. "So perfect," he growled against her when he removed his lips again, ignoring how she desperately pulled at his hair to force them back into place, her back arching and hips frantically rising. "How about a trade? I'll give you what you need if you give me what I want," the hand keeping her folds spread apart for his mouth pushed her hips back against the tiled wall with force, reminding her who was in control despite his prone position.

"Yes, yes, please," she gasped, being at the edge of ecstasy and oblivion all over again making her at her wits end. "Anything," the word left her on a breathless exhale, Aizawa rewarding her with a quick lick and a silent promise of more to come.

Anything? His eyes lit up at the word. To keep her all to himself, to make her his own. To have unfettered access to her, day or night. To pull her away without notice, to find a dark corner to fill her in, to fuck her no matter where they were or the time of day. To…to…no. His tongue darted out, swiping away the evidence of her desire that clung to his lips as he buried down the reflex to make such unrealistic demands – the inexplicable obsession he felt would undoubtedly scare her away. Aizawa delivered another lick while he carefully considered his options, making her moan softly, her nearness to climax still simmering beneath the surface so long as he kept even occasional contact. "I get to look…and lick…wherever I want," he whispered, the request seeming innocent enough, especially when he wrapped his lips back around her clit to draw it into his mouth.

Her hips bucked against the sensation, his mouth and tongue feeling like a blistering heat with how overwrought she was. She nodded quickly, the only sounds falling from her lips aching whimpers.

He felt the thrill of victory when she nodded, "You need something for your little hole to clamp down on when I make you come, don't you?" Aizawa didn't wait for her reply, latching onto her fully so he could alternate flicking and swirling his tongue around her clit while his hand shifted to curl two fingers into her. She always felt impossibly tight, wet, so eager and willing to let him have what he wanted in exchange for relief.

Soft moans of dire need urged him on, the movement of his tongue sharp with tight and brutal control as it razed her nerves over and over, every muscle in her wound up and calling out for release. Her climax was sudden and burning, like a whirling heat licking pleasure through every inch of tension that had built up in her form, amped up by the way his fingers pressed and rubbed into the front of her walls until her core was spasming. She cried out and instinctively thrashed against him as he continued his ministrations, but found his grip gave her no way to escape, only allowing her hips to arch and further press herself into his searingly hot tongue.

Aizawa wouldn't even let her wind down from her first orgasm before he began driving her up another peak, knowing the repeated denial left her so sensitive that she would be at his mercy. He could feel her pulse beneath his tongue, every twitch of her body squeezing his fingers within her, hear how her voice became high and thin, her breath weak as if she could not draw in enough air…He wouldn't let her come before, but now he didn't want her to let her stop.

It felt like she broke upon him this time, her release brittle and snapping through her, so intense that she thought she'd crumble if his mass wasn't bracing her against the shower wall. She had to twist her hips away and push his face back when blinding overstimulation left her eyes glassy, caught somewhere between the sweeter side of pain and being nearly numb. "No more, please, no more," she pleaded, trying to close her thighs only to be met by the prickly stubble of his jaw.

He was loath to pull back from her swollen clit, but replaced it by slipping his fingers into his mouth to suck them clean with a low rumble of approval. "Sweet girl," Aizawa murmured the now-familiar sentiment reprehensibly. He used his arm wrapped around the thigh propped up on his shoulder to lift and press it into her, giving himself better access to her slit, her knee nearly to her chest. "This is mine," he crooned and leaned forward to lap at her core, wicking away every trace of her pleasure, holding her firm every time she tried to squirm away.

She gasped and winced at each graze to her clit, feeling so close to fracturing all over again. Her eyes were tightly shut and head tilted back against the tiles, fingers still tangled in his hair but inconsistently pulling or pushing him away depending upon the angle his tongue assaulted her at – wanting more whenever it swept into her depths and needing less any time his movements nudged at the apex of her slit. "Can't keep doing this," she whispered, the thought and sentence incomplete, not knowing herself if she meant the current act of pleasure or the pair of them together in general.

Aizawa froze, stilling so he could glare up at her from between her legs. Which was it? He withdrew all-the-same, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand after letting her stand freely. But she swayed slightly when trying to put her weight back on both feet, prompting him to rise and curl his hands around her waist. "Is it too much, doll? Am *I* too much?" He asked in a heated whisper before crushing his lips into hers, licking into her mouth, wanting her to taste herself upon his tongue.

She couldn't help the way she moaned into his mouth or how her hands skittered down his torso, tracing the raised planes of muscle before finding his cock and wrapping her fingers around it. He broke the kiss with a low hiss inhaled through his teeth, his hips bucking toward her hand, girth throbbing beneath the press of her digits as she began to stroke him. She couldn't bring herself to answer, too conflicted about her own feelings – it made her tip her face up towards his in silent askance for another kiss, offering herself to him despite her words, lips parted and eyes fluttering shut.

That was answer enough for him, claiming her mouth all over again but keeping it rough and brief, his hips instinctively thrusting into her grip. Her breath was a frustrated whimper when he separated their lips again. "Turn around," he growled against her mouth, his fingers digging into her sides to spin her rather than wait for compliance. "I'm not going to fuck you, kitten, not yet," he murmured into her wet hair, one arm snaking across her hips to press her rear against himself. The head of his cock nudged at her back while he ground against her, keeping his hard ridge nestled between her rounded cheeks. "Maybe if you can manage to be professional the remainder of today, I'll reward you with a thorough rutting, hmm?"

"I don't want to wait…please," she whispered, finding his other hand at her neck applying gentle pressure.

"You mean you don't want to draw this out," his thumb petted the column of her throat affectionately, leaning his head over her shoulder to enjoy the sight of her pert breasts on display just for him. "Well, that's too bad, isn't it? Because I'm not done with you," he murmured directly against her ear, feeling her shiver in response. He couldn't dull that possessive edge to his demeanor enough, not when she was so thoroughly in his clutches, her body weak from climax and nearly limp leaning into him.

She tipped her head back onto his shoulder, an insolent pout on her full lips, finding a thread of confidence and pulling at it. "I'm not going to keep playing this game with you, Aizawa."

His heart rate quickened when she skipped using his hero name, those tired eyes now fixed on her lovely face. "But I can give you what you need. I can do that for as long as you want," Aizawa reminded her, murmuring into her wet hair. "You can tell me how you like it done and I'll be discreet." He moved his lips to press directly onto her ear once more, using a harsh whisper that made her squirm against him, "How, where, when…" his fingertips dug into her throat until she whimpered at the pleasurable pressure. "I want to know every little kink and fantasy he left unsatisfied. I can give you all of those things," Aizawa grinned, a few of his soaked dark locks falling into both their faces. "It's mutually beneficial, kitten." It didn't feel like a lie when he said it, but it'd suit his growing obsession more than anything she needed from him.

"Mutually beneficial?" She tried tugging at both of his hands to free herself from his grasp but he held firm, rolling his hips with renewed fervor and grinding his cock against the crease of her rear. Her cheeks were coloring up again, listening to his erratic breaths in her ear.

He let a groan escape his lips just to watch her stiffen, her hands stilling, unable to resist listening to him getting off. The inherent appeal he had to her won out, but she still leveled him with a haughty side-eye that made his cock ache. "I don't have time for something serious outside of work, and you're just my type, doll," he made a point of looking down her body from over her shoulder, the hand on her neck sweeping down to roll one of her pebbled nipples between his fingers until she squeaked indignantly, prompting him to groan once again. "And if you're just interested in having someone be a distraction… I can be very distracting," his hand shifted over to tug sharply at her other nipple, making her wince. Aizawa hummed in appreciation, groping hungrily at her breasts, "I can take care of any…" He paused to choose his words, letting the hand at her hip slip down and caress her clit through her folds, "any unfulfilled needs you have," he finally finished the thought as pleasure jolted through her, still too sensitive even without direct contact.

She reactively swatted his hand away from the apex of her thighs, her legs pressing tightly together, unable to handle the friction of his caresses. "I'll consider it," the words came out breathless and uncertain, almost a lie. His hips stuttered to a stop behind her, but she could see the wicked smile taking shape on his lips.

"And you'll tell me all about your little kinks in the meantime, right, kitten?" His tone was bemused, anticipating the rapid shake of her head before it came. "I've picked up on a few already. But perhaps you're part of the 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' crowd, is that it?" He stepped forward, forcing her to move with him until her chest and palms were pressed into the tiles.

"You expect me to just list off a bunch of fantasies for you?" She braced her forearms against the wall, looking at him over her shoulder as he leaned back to admire the view. What started off as an insolent glare quickly turned to a wide-eyed daze as he dropped to his knees behind her, his hands finding her hips and fingers crooking into her skin until her back arched, her rear on display for him. "...Don't," she guessed his intentions and tried to shy her hips away but his grip tightened, almost bruising.

"Oh, you're going back on your word, kitten? You promised I could look and lick wherever I wanted when I let you come," his left hand slid from her hip to caress the curve of her ass, stopping so his thumb could lift away one cheek, spreading them apart. Aizawa could feel the embarrassed heat rolling off of her as he stared, watching water run down the back of her crease. "This just happens to be where I want to look and lick when *I* come," his right hand fell from her hip and wrapped around the base of his cock, starting to slowly pump it into his fist. "Are you going to be a good girl and hold still for me?"

"That's not fair," she whispered as he lolled his tongue out suggestively, making it wide and flat before leaning in for a long, wicked lick that made her squirm and gasp. "I've never –"

"Tell me *how* it's not fair and I'll stop," he suggested, his tone teasing before he went in for another languid stroke of his tongue, adoring the way she whimpered with her brows knitted together and eyes tightly shut. "No? Nothing?" He worked his way into teasing her puckered hole with the hardened point of his tongue, just tracing the outside of it, meanwhile his hand upon his cock found a steady, squeezing rhythm. His voice dropped low and husky, nearly a growl, "then I guess you'll just have to shut up and take it."

Her cheeks burned with a combination of mortification and need, finding little relief in pressing the side of her face against the cool tiled wall. She fought the urge to call him a pervert, finding her eyes peeking open to watch him through long lashes for just a few moments before she grew too shy…if he was one, so was she.

Aizawa groaned against her, noisily stroking himself as he lapped at her rear, loving the way she gasped and writhed but never denied him access – as if she secretly enjoyed it despite the keening whines she'd give every time his tongue tried dipping into her past the tight ring of muscle. He was persistent, crossing that line over and over until she relaxed just enough to plunge the stiff tip of his tongue in. Her small aching sounds drove him wild, making him chase the sway of her hips as she tried to escape the foreign sensation until he snarled against her skin.

She froze at the sound, her thighs shuddering – why did she like him when he behaved that way? Something primal, feral, predatory about him lit a fire in her core, she realized with another heady blush as she stifled a moan by biting into her lower lip.

He got a sick thrill when her body yielded to him, letting his tongue explore further, alternating between insatiable licking and pressing into her. Aizawa kept her cheeks pried apart, lifting one with his left hand and bringing himself closer to release with his right, pausing his tongue only to meet her shy gaze. Did he get off more on making her push her boundaries only for him, or was it the fact he was claiming a part of her that had previously gone untouched? "Does this belong to me now?" He asked with a lazy smile, streams of water trailing down in absence of his tongue.

He watched her stiffen, that timid expression turning into another haughty glare, his arrogance drawing out the bratty side of her that made him ache to control her. "I think it does, kitten. Just like the rest of you," Aizawa's hand shifted down, using the entire thumb-to-palm side of it so he could spread her far enough apart to see the base of her slit as well. The sight alone was enough to erode his resolve, rising rapidly to notch himself against her cunt, pleased to feel she was so thoroughly slick with desire.

One hand moved to her throat while the other pressed in at her navel, using both to steady her as he rammed in with a strangled groan. He caught himself chuckling darkly at her answering moan, but his laughter was strangled, turning into a low groan at how unimaginably small she felt around him. "I own every little hole of yours now, don't I?" His voice was in her ear, every word a strained, heated whisper, "But especially this one – this is *mine,*" he punctuated the last word with another snap of his hips, feeling her insides constrict and squirm around him at the thought and sensation.

If she had any plan to respond it was thwarted by the hand at her throat shifting up to press his middle and forefinger into her mouth, both digits slipping against the surface of her tongue, curling in and out from between her closed lips to simulate thrusting in time with the long, strong strokes of his cock. She could only moan and whimper against them, her delighted sounds muffled, body rising onto the tips of her toes and back arching further just to draw him in deeper.

Aizawa could feel the fat head of his cock striking the front of her walls from beneath his palm, spurring him to grind the heel of his hand against it as the movement of his hips became erratic and desperate. "I'm going to use you, kitten," the sentiment was peppered with grunts, fully intending to fill her without giving her relief, but her core was already twitching around him at his words. "Oooh, you love that," the chorus of skin slapping rose to a frenzy, echoing off the bathroom walls. "Take my load like a good girl," his breathing was labored, the palm under her chin tipping her head back and fingers pressing into her tongue, his lips finding her neck.

It only took a few more strokes before he finally broke her, that now-familiar wet heat soaking his cock as he ceaselessly pounded into her, indulging in the way her walls convulsed around him as she tried to cry out against his fingers in her mouth. His frantic movements stuttered, having to stifle his shout into her neck as her little hole fluttered and squeezed around him, so impossibly tight that he couldn't help crashing at the same peak with her.

His arms moved to wind around her body, bearing her down onto him, his hips rising to meet the force he exerted until the tips of her toes were lifted from the shower floor. The roiling of her core and those sweet aching sounds falling from her lips had him spilling into her, wave after wave spurting in as he panted and grunted with each new twitch of his bollocks. But as Aizawa felt the excess of his release trailing down his thighs and pooling onto the tile below, a foreign and depraved impulse took hold – the unfamiliar, intrusive thought to 'not waste it,' to prevent any more of his seed from leaking out, to keep himself rooted 'until it took.' He couldn't place the obsessive thoughts before now, but they seemed to manifest as a wholly new kink for him… He wanted to breed her – or more specifically, just play pretend at it. The reddening of his cheeks was unbearable, but her eyes were still tightly shut, trying to catch her breath.

She caught sight of her brows furrowed together in the mirror as she swept mascara through her lashes, making her sigh. It was almost as impossible to get him to leave as it was to simply get him to pull out, and although she had managed to do both, every second of their interaction seemed to play back in her mind on loop. 'I'll do better tomorrow, I'll wake up alone and it'll be easy,' she thought to herself, dappling on a subtle stain to her cheeks and lips with the pad of her fingers. But even that reminded her of the deep red she saw on his face as he watched his release streaming down her thighs, how he had glared at her for staring open-mouthed in surprise at how flushed he had become – what on earth was so explicit that *he* was the one blushing for a change?

/ I know you were thinking

bad things when you kissed me, oh,

your tongue told me every lie. /

She bit into her lip, willing the memory and aptly timed lyrics away and threading her arms through a white oversized physician's coat. It had been ages since she last wore her hero bodysuit, making it especially snug on her curves, but between her utility belt and the lab coat it was barely noticeable.

/ 'Last week,' I swore, no matter what.

I'll be stretching out the time. /

She let out an exasperated groan, digging into every pocket on her belt in search of her phone as she walked towards her door. "This song fits better than my suit," she muttered to herself when she finally fished the cell from a pouch, pulling the door open with her other hand.

"I quite like the fit of your suit, actually," Aizawa said before she nearly walked into him, his hands in his pockets and head tipped down into the binding cloth spooled around his neck, keeping his face from the nose-down hidden. His gaze was fixed on her breasts, blatantly appraising – the fabric was taut there, leaving little to the imagination.

/ Oh, I know that boy's gonna rip me up.

'Cause he ain't that nice, he won't do right,

He'll leave a nasty cut. /

She could tell by the way the corners of his eyes lifted that he was grinning over the lyrics, but he made a point of not looking up, his appraising stare turning appreciative. "I didn't ask for your opinion," she snatched the lapels of her coat to pull them together, her other hand cutting the music with a few taps of her fingers. "Why are you creeping outside of my door? Shouldn't you be on your way?" She sidestepped around him to close and lock the door behind herself, her irritation rising.

"We're both headed to the Gamma Gym, I thought I'd be a gentleman and show you the way." He withdrew a hand from its pocket to lift one tail of her lab coat while she locked the door, making a contented 'hm' sound as he eyed the shape of her rear through the material of her suit – very un-gentleman-like. "Is the coat to keep me from staring at your ass in front of my students? I have *some* self control out in public, doll."

"I know the way," she slapped his hand away and righted her coat, making her way down the hall without him. "And so far you have yet to show a modicum of self control, public or not."

Pretty, insolent little thing… He groaned inwardly, resisting the urge to grab and hoist her against the wall, opting to simply follow her instead. "I'm surprised you can walk, kitten." Aizawa's mind wandered back to rinsing his mess from her legs, her body quivering against him as he took to washing her – she had kept trying to swat his hands away then, too. He caught up with her strides, effortlessly falling in step beside her, his eyes lingering at her torso as they roamed.

"You took your sweet time after – plus, I make plenty of stuff for stamina that I've got stashed away for emergencies," she did her best to ignore his gaze, guessing his line of thought matched hers. Her stained-rosy cheeks darkened significantly, vividly recalling the velvety layer of bubbles lathered on his hands, squeezing and groping under the guise of bathing her. But she had pushed his hands away less and less as the caresses became gentler, more reverent, until she was shyly leaning into him… She shook the thought from her head, letting her hair fall in a thick curtain between them to obscure her blushing face from view.

"Stamina, huh?" He asked sheepishly, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear so he could shamelessly stare. She had tried to hide similarly in the shower after he caught his touching and grazing going from perverse to worshiping – but that was all for himself, not her. He was touch-starved, wanting what he didn't have, what he couldn't have. She wasn't his in that sense… even if he kept claiming to own bits and pieces of her during their little games.

She took a steadying, deep breath before they stepped into the elevator, determined to stay civil. But he flashed her that wide, unnerving grin after he spoke, feeling disarmed by the implication and how unsettled she felt when part of her wondered…no, no, no. "You're already impossible to deal with," she murmured, inching away from him in the enclosed space but keeping her eyes trained on his face as he pulled the first few layers of his scarf down. Did she have a thing for guys with long hair now, or was it the stubble? Perhaps the curved scar that lent itself to making him roguishly gorgeous? He was the opposite of Sekijiro in so many ways – a bit shorter, smaller build but a bigger dic– nope, not going down that road. She looked away with another heady blush. Gods, what were they just talking about? Oh, right, "They're not recreational, got it? I'll kick your ass if I catch you playing around with my products, Eraserhead."

His grin broadened maniacally, watching her shoulders tense as she caught sight of it in her peripheral vision. "I'd love to see you fucking try, doll," he kept his voice low, the air about him turning fiercely predatory. But it was gone just as fast, subsiding the moment their elevator dinged and the doors opened to the lobby floor. Aizawa stepped out ahead of her, leaving her to just stare after him in momentary shock.

Her mouth was suddenly dry, swallowing thickly before she had enough sense to step off the elevator so the doors didn't close in her face. "...Remedy, not 'doll,'" was all she could manage to say to his back, purposely slowing her stride to stay further behind him. By the time he glanced over his shoulder at her, she was moving the headphones around her neck to slip them over her ears, the song from earlier picking up where it left off but audible only to her.

/ I believe, I believe in a line so thin.

There's a light, there's a light and it pulls me in.

Going down, going down til I chip my chin,

Hold my heart in your hands, pop it with a pin. /

Aizawa didn't engage with her again the whole walk through campus, keeping ahead of her in silence and rubbing the back of his neck every time the concern that he let himself get too aggressive reared its ugly head. What was going on inside that brain of hers? Was he making any progress convincing her to keep their arrangement going? He growled in frustration, mussing his hair but refraining from looking back at her. Any questions he had would have to wait.

Being caught off guard by his earlier words kept her flustered, especially considering she had found his accompanying attitude strangely thrilling despite the implied threat. She kept sneaking glances at him on the off chance he'd catch her looking, wringing the hem of her coat nervously each time. Her quiet admiration of his broad shoulders and the way his body tapered in at the hips and the went blessedly unnoticed along with the pink tinge of her cheeks. But the moment he hesitated at the threshold of the Gamma Gym doors she continued on past him, determined to give him no opportunity to corner her, refocusing her attention on the unusual jutting of tall rock formations, buildings, and the peppering of other faculty keeping to the outskirts of the ring.

Aizawa's eye twitched at the palpable disregard she had for him, but that was not nearly as vexing as seeing Vlad stroll in seconds after. How long had he been following, and how was he so distracted to have not noticed? He caught his lips between his teeth, pressing his mouth into a firm line, wondering if he might have to juggle monitoring the hulking hero with keeping an eye on his students.

Vlad tore his eyes away from Remedy and studied Aizawa skeptically, his gray brows knitted together, voice gruff. "What was that yesterday, Aizawa?"

"It's whatever it looked like, Kan," Aizawa muttered and tried to make his way towards her, figuring she'd need a buffer if Vlad decided to approach her.

Vlad stuck his arm out, not touching Aizawa but pointedly blocking his path, "You're getting in my way. If I lose her, it's going to be your fault."

"Sounds like you lost her well before I came into the picture," Aizawa turned his tired gaze to the limb impeding his path, his brows raising. "I don't know the details, but it's clear she wants to move on. Some fights require us to be gracious in our defeat," his tone was patronizing, as if he was giving sage advice to a student. "Just take the L and get on with your life," Aizawa made it clear the conversation was over, bored with Vlad already.

Hizashi sensed the tension from a mile away, skidding to a halt in front of Aizawa so Vlad's arm was the only obstacle between them. "Shou!" He said cheerily, raising two lidded cups of coffee he had managed to not drop when darting over. "What's the vibe over here?" He made the question sound like a joke, giving the pair a big grin.

Vlad lowered his arm and frowned, "Just some friendly class rivalry." The lie was clumsy but he was content enough with his own explanation, leaving to slowly edge towards where Remedy was failing to conceal her awe at the sheer size of the training gym.

Hizashi peered around hurriedly to ensure no students had made it through the doors this early, "Yikes, what's up his ass today?" He snickered and handed Aizawa one of the cups in his hands.

Aizawa stared at Vlad's receding back, hearing Hizashi noisily take a sip of coffee before making a deadpan delivery: "I'm fucking his ex girlfriend."

Hizashi choked and sputtered before spitting it out, accidentally activating his quirk with the surprise, "WHAAAAAAT?!" Aizawa didn't even seem fazed, wholly used to these outbursts after nearly half his life as best friends. But Hizashi snatched the coffee cup from Aizawa's hand and beelined it towards Remedy, determined to get better acquainted.

"Hey! Get back here!" Aizawa hissed after Hizashi but it was useless. His eyes searched for Vlad just to find his massive shoulder's hunched, those big lumbering feet frozen in place roughly halfway to where Remedy stood. Clearly he suspected what new information had Hizashi shouting, and it was only confirmed when he saw the tall quaff of blonde hair speed past him to make it to Remedy's side first. She looked relieved, stepping over to hide herself from Vlad behind Hizashi's silhouette and seeming eternally grateful to avoid her ex judging by how quickly she became absorbed in whatever Hizashi was saying. Vlad looked…crestfallen, giving Aizawa a small victorious thrill.

Aizawa watched her take the lid off the coffee cup to blow on it, flashing Hizashi a shy but gracious smile before taking a sip, then immediately blushing the moment he pointed back towards Aizawa with his clamoring laugh. Did telling Hizashi count as not 'being discreet' when he saw them together and suspected they were an item from day one? Her eyes seemed to dance between the cup in her hands and Aizawa's face, then to the levy of students pouring in directly behind him. He turned away from the distant pair, committed to focusing on his class as they assembled.

The first thirty minutes of students getting into place had passed before Aizawa finally ventured over to her with a kid in tow. He could overhear her discussing triage tactics – something about utilizing the radio device on her hip and flags for patient priority during a large-scale event. "I need you to look at a student," he interrupted, calling ahead of his approach, seeing her phone in Hizashi's hand but keeping his expression aloof. "This is Izuku Midoriya. His arms and fingers need a once-over before he can start," Aizawa kept a respectable distance, letting his gaze drift back to Hizashi and his impish grin.

"Izuku Midoriya! I think Principal Nezu mentioned you to me. I'm Remedy – mind if I take a look?" She hovered one hand above the student's fingers before working her way up each arm, a frown etching into her features. "I can feel you've broken some stuff a number of times… I can make anything still in the process of healing as good as new, so that should make training today easier."

Aizawa's attention waned from their polite conversation, staring at Hizashi's ever-broadening grin as he scrolled through Remedy's phone. What could possibly have captivated his interest? He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to reel his focus back in.

"Sorry, it's kind of like how a doctor's hands are always cold, but…worse," she teased Midoriya before bringing her hands to her lips, blowing on them and rubbing them together as if trying to warm them, but tendrils of cold hazy air she breathed out wove around them instead. Midoriya flinched at the chill when she gently stroked her fingertips over the area, every point of contact almost unbearably cold until her hand moved on. But by the time she had finished he was walking off and flexing his hands, staring down at them curiously.

Aizawa made to turn away but she snatched the material of his sleeve before he could wander off, "We're going to need to have a long talk about some of your students after this. I was given a decent amount of detail ahead of time, but maybe I can tailor some remedies to a few in particular. Draughts or Fortifying Candies, something of the like…" She paused, staring at the distant doorway.

A tall, lanky All Might was hesitating at the threshold of the gym, his arm still in a sling and bandages on various parts of his body. Aizawa glanced from the carefully wrapped injuries and back to her, raising his arm to wave Yagi over before she had a chance to make a scene.

"No one asked me to go see you," she apologized after introductions were made, her brows tangled together as she worked over Yagi's injuries with her frigid Healing Hands. "I had just assumed you were completely patched up, otherwise I would have sought you out myself," she murmured more to herself than anyone else.

Aizawa eyed her rosy cheeks as she worked, kneeling beside the folding chair she had nearly bullied Yagi into. Was she a fan? His stomach dropped at the thought as he looked away, his brows knitting together. Neither seemed to notice or care that he kept close proximity, with Aizawa standing off to the side outwardly appearing absorbed in watching one of Ectoplasm's clones getting a face full of acid.

Yagi was timid, clearly not wanting to seem like a burden – but the impressive results of her quirk had his interest piqued. "Only fresh or still-healing wounds, you said? Do you know anyone that works on old wounds?" He asked, trying to not sound too hopeful.

Remedy pursed her lips and gazed up in thought. "Healing old wounds sounds like something newer generation quirks might be capable of – someone my age or younger? I wouldn't be surprised. I'll ask around, but it'd likely still be considered experimental depending on the user," she gave him an optimistic shrug nonetheless. "I have an old college friend back in the States that I could ask. She works under her parents at some prestigious hero hospital; they're always on the cutting edge of healing stuff! If anyone would know, it'd be them. I can give her a call tomorrow."

Hizashi meandered back over with her phone in hand, crouching down to Remedy's height to pass it back to her. "You'll be able to see all of my stuff now! I dig your tracks, maybe I'll add a few to my sets." He flashed an exaggerated wink when she looked confused, "I do a couple DJ gigs here and there for fun! We'll all drag you out to the next one. Right, Shou?" He shot a look over his shoulder at Aizawa's back, confirming his suspicion that Aizawa was eavesdropping by the way his friend's body marginally tensed when called out.

Aizawa perked up and turned his head towards them, pretending as if he wasn't listening to every word. "Hmm?" The answer was neither a yes or no, just an acknowledgement, keeping his eyes forward to feign disinterest.

Remedy's cheeks darkened, busying herself with winding up Yagi's discarded bandages at an inexplicably panicked speed rather than making eye contact with anyone. She was becoming more and more certain Yamada intended to play match-maker, whether or not he knew about them – he had to at least guess as much, right? Is that what the shouting was about this morning? Her blood was pounding in her ears, eyes downcast at the rolled up gauze in her hand, not registering at first that Yagi had said something. "Sorry, what?"

He rubbed the back of his hair nervously but beamed, "Thank you!"

"Oh! Of course. Just come straight to me next time something happens, my door is always open," she rose with a warm smile, dusting off her knees.

Aizawa waited impatiently for her outside her office door, pacing and sneaking uneasy glances down the hall in anticipation of her arrival. She had asked to speak to him about his students, and now that they were all in English class with Hizashi he had ample time to corner her for more nefarious reasons – but she had yet to show.

"Sorry, sorry, wardrobe malfunction," she apologized when she rounded the corner and spotted him, her frustration over this morning seeming to have ebbed away after hours of keeping his distance. "I got snagged on that spiky kid," a bemused smile played across her lips despite the tear of fabric stretched halfway across her abdomen. "There's a spare suit somewhere in my boxes, but I've got a few new ones coming from the Support class by the end of this week," her keys jangled as she unlocked the office door, the sound accompanied by a slew of buzzing from the phone in her lab coat.

Aizawa reached up and thumbed the swath of exposed skin where her hero suit was torn, inspecting the blood that had bloomed across the material and finding her flesh unmarred. His eyes were half-lidded, mouth pressed into an overwrought line behind his binding cloth, fingers curling at her hip to stroke the spot again… Not hurt, of course not – she had healed herself. "Your new ones will be significantly more durable if designed by our Support students." He tried to sound casual, not belying his ulterior motives. How much time could he steal her away for?

She shivered and blushed in response to the intimate touch but made no move to slap his hand away, merely avoiding his gaze while staring down at her phone. "I've got some running clothes stashed away I can change into," the words came out tight, like she was trying and failing to keep a conversational tone while scrolling through a stream of texts. Her face fell as she read through the messages, eventually letting out a derisive huff and queueing up a song to play on the headphones around her neck. "I think I want to go for a run tonight anyways," she mumbled under her breath before starting to pull off her white physician's coat and belt.

/ I can almost smell that liquor through your text,

The bubbles with dots, they start and they stop,

Like you don't know what comes next. /

His lips quirked into a smirk, looking up at her as the lyrics filtered through, "Not someone you wanted to hear from, huh?"

She rolled her eyes and tapped the door with her foot so it swung open, flicking on the lights to reveal empty beds and her desk piled high with unpacked boxes. "So perceptive," she muttered sarcastically and walked through without checking to see if he'd follow, draping her belongings over the top of the office chair.

/ We've been here before, know what you're gonna say.

'Been thinking of you, why don't you come through,

There's nobody at my place.' /

He slipped in behind her, keeping far too close for comfort, his fingers reaching out and lifting a swath of her hair to his lips. Did she plan on going for a run or running back to Vlad? The mere thought had his blood pumping, feeling a wave of possessiveness cresting and threatening to drag him under.

A shiver skittered up her spine when he touched her hair, making her whip around just to find him standing inches away and glaring down at her. "What's with you?" She looked him up and down haughtily before putting her hand on his chest and pushing him away – only because he obliged, unbeknownst to her. "Stay over there somewhere," she waved dismissively at the doorframe as he took a deliberate step back. "You behaved surprisingly well at the gym, but our work day isn't over yet." Remedy turned her back to him again with an exasperated sigh.

/ Yeah, because you only love me when you're lonely,

When you think I'm moving on with someone else.

It's like you like me better when we're not together.

We both know you only love yourself /

Ah, there it was – the insolent side of her that drove him up the walls. "Are you usually a brat, or is that just for me?" Aizawa leaned his back against the door to shut it behind him, locking it before crossing his arms over his chest. "You were being such a sweetheart for everyone else. How come I can't get you to coo over me like you do with your patients?" He couldn't help but enjoy the view as she raised her arms above her head and lengthened her back, making an aching sound not unlike the ones she made when he was fucking her. The hero suit was pleasantly snug…and tearable, it would seem, the thought making his pants strain.

She stiffened mid-stretch when she heard the lock slide into place, turning to face him. "Seriously?" Her feet carried her back to the door, reaching past him to unlock it, "Because you're a prick."

But she never reached the deadbolt. "I know one way you can be *sweet* for me," he snatched her phone from her hand, his scarf shooting out to wind its way around her wrists and forearms, binding them together at her front until the high swell of her breasts pushed up. Aizawa stopped her music and began to tap away at her screen with one hand, the other snaking around her waist to pull her against him. "Are you still very sensitive, kitten?" He was smiling blithely, ignoring her sounds of protest and the way she struggled against her bonds.

Remedy watched his smile curl into a wicked grin as he read through her messages, ignoring his line of questioning. "Oh, I see, you're not just a prick – you're a jealous one. Good to know," she tried pushing him away at his chest again but her arms were wedged between them, his free hand slipping down her backside and smoothing over the generous curve of her rear. "I need that door unlocked for students, so how about you see yourself out?"

"Tsk tsk, no panties? Were you hoping I'd corner you?" He looked over her shoulder curiously to confirm, seeing and feeling nothing along her ass or over her hips beneath the bodysuit. "All the year 1 students are done at the Gamma gym – no other classes are doing practical training today. And while it's entirely possible those kids might start throwing punches during English or Art, it's highly unlikely." Aizawa guided her to the furthest curtain-covered bed, flinging the coverings aside to reveal the mirrored wall behind it and licking at his lips suggestively in their reflection, "Come on now, don't be shy." He tossed her phone onto the thin mattress, using his newly freed hand to reach around and grope at her chest, his thumb grazing over a pebbled nipple through her suit and unlined bra.

She winced at his touch, the tips of her breasts still aching from his rough nipping and sucking earlier in the morning. "Even if that's the case, I'm not taking this off, and you'll have a hell of a time wrestling me out of it," the confidence of her statement didn't match the uncertain expression upon her face. Some part of her was vaguely aware he'd somehow manage if it actually came down to that, warily watching him in the mirror.

His hand at her lower back pushed her onto the long edge of the bed so that her arms gave way beneath her, the side of her face and chest suddenly flat against the sheets. "Oh, I'll let you keep it on, don't worry," he took hold of her hips roughly before she could try to scramble away, lifting them as high as her flexibility would allow until she was on her knees with her rear on full display. His binding scarf made simple work of securing her to the curtain frame that stood tall above the medical beds, keeping her bent over prettily for him. "Don't you want me to distract you? Just for a little bit…or just until Kan stops texting you to meet him." He fell to his knees, his hands skimming from her hips to her ass, fingers sinking into her flesh to pry her cheeks apart. The fabric was so taut that he could see the clear outline of her cunt spread before him, groaning at the sight – she was utterly feline in this position, back arched like a cat in heat just for him, fabric at the apex of her thighs already damp and clinging to every detail of her.

Each time she tried to squirm or wriggle away the scarf dug deeper into her skin, cinching tightly at her lovely waist and around her hips, cutting into the thick of her thighs and keeping her legs separated for his use. She gasped when he moved to cup his hands around the backs of her thighs to keep her from squirming, kissing and nipping at the round of her rear while his thumbs caressed the crease of her thighs. "What happened to showing restraint, remaining professional?" Her voice was weak, breath coming in too fast, cheeks rapidly reddening, only able to catch glimpses of him from her prone position on the bed.

"Restraint, restraints, what's the difference?" He sounded tired but arrogant, letting his warm breath bathe her, the tip of his nose grazing the folds of her sex as he pressed his lips to the crease of her inner thigh. "You're going to stay in my bed tonight, kitten," Aizawa murmured against her, rolling his thumbs down to nudge her cheeks just a little wider near the base of her slit. "No more nights spent on your couch. I need a bed frame to string you up on while I get my fill," he tipped his head forward, delivering a languid lick to the outline of her clit through the fabric and chuckling darkly when she gasped and tried closing her legs.

His voice was a low grit that made her want to pant, but she was uselessly stubborn. "I won't," she practically squeaked out, turning her face to muffle a moan into the mattress, her next words equally stifled. "Not staying the night… not happening again," full, coherent sentences were out of her grasp while he licked at her again, every point of contact with his hot wet tongue making pleasure jolt through her. She was still impossibly sensitive from the repeated denial of release this morning, edging her through the majority of their shower together.

"You will," he said firmly before he licked at her again, his tongue slow and methodical, mouthing gently through the material and leaving the crotch of her bodysuit saturated in its wake. Each time that tongue drew back her hips chased his mouth, and although her eagerness did not match her words he rewarded it with delicious friction, alternating between sweeping straight up her center and licking in swirling circles. Aizawa wanted to hear her falling apart again, switching from lapping at her to latching onto the impression of her clit, relishing the cry she tried to bury in the sheets while he harshly suckled and licked at the bud of nerves.

"I won't," she said again, a little louder this time, the proclamation tapered with a whine when he did not release her from his mouth. Warmth was already roiling through her, tendrils curling throughout her belly and hips, so sensitive that she was already close to tipping over the precipice of pleasure.

"You will," he promised, snarling the word against her and drawing her back into his mouth again, the hard tip of his tongue swirling and flicking in time with the way her body involuntarily rocked back and forth, her back curling to arch further, trying to lift her hips toward his persistent licks. Aizawa could feel her tensing, his hands on her ass rolling her into him, muscles both locking up and shuddering as her release rapidly built up. It made him hungry for more, insatiable for the sweet sounds that she tried to hide, spurring him on with that ruthless tongue striking her using excruciating precision.

She couldn't get away from the fire rolling within, everything fanning the flames that licked through her – his tight, brutal control permeated each shudder and twitch of her form, that searing tongue savoring making her pant and shout, his demand that she stay, her body having no purchase to move away or escape her bindings, the way his fingers indented into her suit and skin… it all came crashing down at once. Her pleasure was white-hot, making her moan long and loud, eyes fluttering shut with the heat burning so fast and so bright she thought she might turn to ash.

"Such a good girl," he sounded wretchedly pleased with himself, carefully shifting to keep her curved for him as he eyed the wet spot between her legs that had blossomed, the damp fabric sticking to her so he could thoroughly make out every private inch. "So eager for me, so easy for me to please," he teased with a heated whisper, tracing his fingers to stroke up and down the length of her slit before unexpectedly hooking into the material, tearing it easily until a gaping hole left him with the perfect window of access to her cunt. "But you'll need to be much, much quieter, kitten."

She gasped and whimpered at the sound and sensation of fabric tearing, unable to shut her thighs, the cool air of the room making her unbearably cold without the press of his hot tongue. But she could feel his mouth working its way up her spine through her hero suit as he bent over her back, stopping when his lips found her ear.

"Can you keep quiet for me, sweet girl?" He crooned with a mockingly honeyed tone, one of his hands feeling blindly for her phone on the bed while his other curled under to draw her bound arms up so they were folded beneath her chest. "You won't be able to hear yourself, so you'll need to be careful… and no more sad songs for today, kitten."

She propped herself up on her arms, slightly wobbly, her lower half still hanging from his restraints. A questioning look reflected back at them from her blushing face, trying to figure out what he meant when he slid her headphones over her ears, an unfamiliar song queued before he tossed her phone aside. She couldn't make out the way he hummed along but could feel the rumble of his chest behind her, the volume up loud enough for him to hear so she'd see how he mouthed along to the words, eyes locked with hers in the surface of the mirror.

/ Show me how, show me how you like it done.

You're all mine, I'll make you feel like you're the one.

Take off your clothes, give me your trust,

Look me in the eyes and confess your lust. /

His smile was lazy, almost bored, not matching the intensity behind his eyes as he rose to stand behind her once more and looked over the shear of fabric he had made between her legs. Aizawa tracked her every shift and shudder like a predator, that fierce possessiveness at odds with the way he hummed and murmured in tandem with the track. He rubbed his chin in thought, fingers scraping through his stubble – they only had time for one or two at best, he thought to himself as that hand traveled up to sweep his long black hair back.

/ Get on your knees, beg me to stop.

I promise I'll love you if you do it,

So do it for me. /

She bit into her lip, avoiding catching sight of her blushing face in the mirror in favor of watching his long deft fingers unfasten his utility belt and buttons of his hero gear, leaving a long swath of his chest visible and his pants slung low across his hips. His cock was hidden behind the silhouette of her ass in the air, but she could tell he was pumping it with his hand, his head canted to the side in careful consideration.

/ Give me your hand, I'll show you things you've never done.

Hold my head, I'll make you feel like never before. /

"You're lucky I'm not binding your eyes and mouth shut," he grinned with a flash of canine at the thought, "Lucky I'll let you watch and scream," Aizawa's eyes darted to study her face in the mirror, pleased to find there was no indication his words registered – she couldn't hear him. "There's still time, of course," he petted her rear affectionately, his thumb pulling her cheek up so he could admire her cunt. "But… I want you to watch me use you, kitten. And I want to hear the sounds you make," he admitted quietly as his hand squeezed and stroked along his shaft, white beads of anticipation already dribbling down his tip.

He couldn't resist the temptation to keep talking, his lips curling bemusedly whenever she seemed frustrated that she could not understand his words. But the irate tangle of her brows subsided the moment he dragged the fat head of his cock up and down, wetting it with her slick before notching himself against that tiny hole. "I want to keep you, kitten," he murmured as he began easing himself in, fixated upon the sight of her having to stretch around him to accommodate his size, hearing the rapid anxious sounds falling from her lips as her body braced to take him. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, pausing after the first few inches. "So little, so tight," he glanced up to catch her lips parted and eyes squeezed shut, something infernally appealing about the way she winced when he tried to nudge in further.

/ Say my name,

All I wanna do is hear you scream in pain.

Say my name.

I promise I'll love you if you do it,

So do it for me. /

"Does it hurt?" Aizawa asked, something sinister about his tone, knowing full well she had no capacity to hear or answer. He made as if drawing out, waiting until her eyes flashed open with confusion just so he could slam fully into her, knocking the air out of her lungs and making her cry out sharply. "Oh, is it too much, kitten?" He pulled back, his thickly corded thighs slapping the back of her legs when he sank into her again, reveling in the way she gasped and twitched around his girth – but her body was adjusting, that stretch and tightness burning pleasantly for her with the help of her wet release gliding him in. He could tell she was learning to love that ache by the way her eyes fluttered closed and the high, tight sound of her shout when he was fully seated in her again, her expression pinched in a mixture of relief and awe.

He leaned his head back to listen for any sounds down the faculty hall – nothing, he determined whilst canting his hips to try nudging deeper and deeper into her, knowing for a fact there was nowhere further to go when she was so completely full of him. "I'm going to keep you, kitten," he whispered the sentiment again, watching the way pleasure played out on her face, digging his fingers into her hips. "I won't let you leave me," Aizawa was even quieter, a little declaration emboldened by the fact she couldn't hear. The room filled with the chorus of skin striking skin, quickly finding a rhythm, snapping his hips into hers, her perfect little body jumping and trembling with each impact. He could feel her tightening and tensing around his length, so ready for him to drag another orgasm from her, the way her core reflexively kept trying to pull him back in and those sweet muffled sounds she tried to conceal…it was all convincing him to profess more and more, sounding exponentially desperate and obsessed with each new admittance. "I'll keep filling you up until I've ruined you," he could feel his cheeks warming, but her eyes were shut and lost in desire as the fat head of his cock knocked into her front walls over and over, using the spot that made her keen with expert precision.

Her body honed in on only her sense of touch and how he used her, everything else drowned out by the intense pressure and fullness she felt when he was buried inside. Biting her lip did little to quiet the aching sounds falling from her mouth, and closing her eyes did nothing but make her more aware of every sensation. Her core grasped and pulled at him every time he withdrew, desperate to keep him rooted in her, to experience his immense size pushing her to her limits. Every time she tried peeking up at his reflection he was talking, his words unintelligible over the shameless song pounding in her ears, his expression becoming increasingly unhinged and vividly red with each renewed glimpse.

"You belong to me now…I won't let anyone else touch what's mine." His voice was low and husky, nowhere near done with his use of her despite the way he could feel her winding tighter and tighter around him in need of relief. She was practically bouncing upon him with the force of his thrusts and her bindings, knees nearly lifted off the bed as he rutted into her with no regard to her needs, primal and chasing only his own pleasure. The flush of his cheeks intensified, something deeply cathartic about confessing his desires aloud as the song looped on repeat. "I'll make you stay, make you love me," he murmured, punctuating the thought with an especially rough thrust that made her nearly shout, "I'll breed my kitten so she has no choice but to stay."

Aizawa could feel her body begging for release, her legs trembling, voice getting high and thin with every keening cry and moan she tried to stifle into the bedding. His silent snarl was feral, brows furrowed in concentration, cheeks ruddy with every wicked word left unsaid – how he found his peak this morning thinking of 'trapping' her, knocking her up so he could keep her all to himself. They were the same thoughts that had the snapping of his hips becoming erratic and frenzied, an animalistic need to fill and claim her, using her like a bitch in heat and razing the pocket of nerves inside her relentlessly until her cunt was spasming around him. The slap of skin, creaking bed, needy whines, and grunts of effort all took a backseat to her muffling a heady cry into the bindings on her arms, her tiny greedy hole clenching and unclenching deliciously around him. "You want it too, want me to breed you," his voice was strained, breathless, as her core milked his cock. "Such a receptive little kitten, begging to be filled," he choked out the words, his eyes nearly rolling back with how tight she clamped down upon him, prompting him to ram up into her and letting her rip his release from him with a shout.

He poured into her at an alarming rate, the excess quickly spilling out of her and streaming in rivets down her thighs, dripping onto the sheets beneath them all before he was even halfway spent. He had never come so much or so hard, he realized with a low groan. Aizawa had the same depraved urge from this morning – to not waste it, make her take every drop, ensure that 'it took' before even considering pulling out. His hands lifted her hips higher, changing the angle he flooded her with, pulling out just slightly to make more room that thick warmth pooling richly into her.

Aizawa pushed his hair back with one hand, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow, looking red-faced and angry in the mirror as he tried to catch his breath. But he couldn't stop stealing glances at where they were joined, easing himself back into her fully and canting his hips just so he could watch more of his release leak out. She had him doubting his sanity – was he always this wretched underneath it all? His hand descended to his chin, rubbing the stubble nervously before he realized she was silently watching, blushing… did she hear any of his confessions? No, no, the music was still loud... He averted his gaze, ignoring the impulse to stay buried in her but feeling his mouth go dry when he fully withdrew, staring at the copious mess with an unfamiliar thrill. It wasn't possible to 'trap' her, not with her line of work and assured responsibility – but even just pretending was enough to take his desire to new heights. He tore his eyes away, his frustrated expression softening when his gaze met hers again, reaching up to pull the headphones away and letting her bindings loosen so her limp body could sink back into the thin mattress.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, his hands sweetly caressing the indentations left by his binding cloth. "So perfect for me," Aizawa's breath shuddered, wanting to say more – that he was addicted, obsessed, enamored with her. But he watched a whole range of emotions flash across her face, clearly trying to determine the reason he went from looking furious with himself to petting and coaxing her with praise. "Was I too rough, kitten? Am I too much for you?" He tried to sound smug and offered a smirk, but imagined it contrasted the way his face still burned.

She eyed the flush of anger or shame in his cheeks; he was blushing so heavily it rivaled the hue currently coloring hers. Biting her lip was her preferred response to his question, too shy to admit she only dully ached from his substantial size. Was he just trying to help her come down from her peak with his gentle caresses and words? That question was overshadowed by the way his reddened cheeks lingered. "Why are you blushing?" She asked timidly, her gaze fixed to his face in the mirror. "And…what were you saying when I couldn't hear?" She suspected one had to do with the other given the glimpses she caught during his infernal use of her body, the way his eyes were wild and nostrils flared as he bucked into her.

There was a long pause as he debated his reply, at first only giving her a non-committal hum as if the question wasn't unnerving. "I was whispering sweet nothings," he teased, watching her sit up and scoot away, shifting so her back faced the foot of the bed, her thighs pressed tightly together. She sat in skeptical silence, waiting for him to be honest, making him sigh indignantly with his lips twisting in growing ire. "Exactly the sort of thing you'd expect me to say, kitten. Does it really matter?" Aizawa crept onto the bed until he was on his knees before her, his fingers prying her legs apart. "Just assume the worst and move on," he hooked his hands under her knees and dragged her hips closer, positioning himself to take her pliant body again.

"I want to know," she willed herself to not blush further as she felt the sheer amount of release coating her sex and thighs, half-heartedly pushing him back when he notched himself into the mess.

"You want to know?" He huffed a bemused laugh before his eyes darkened, flashing a bright and dangerous grin. Aizawa's left hand rose to her collarbone, roughly pushing her down so she laid on her back before covering her mouth with his palm. His body bowed over hers, right hand still pressing the blunt head of his cock against her entrance. "You'll have to bite me if you want it to stop," his voice was sinister and head tilted to the side, looking her over greedily, his eyes half-hooded with lust. He groaned when he began sinking into her again, watching her back arch and thighs stiffen as she had to stretch around his girth. "Take it for me one more time like a good girl," the words were low and rumbling, making her insides squirm against him.

Her legs folded around him, trembling and tightening around his hips as he drove into her, his lean, dense body feeling wonderfully heavy on top of her. His words kept her cheeks steadily warm and made her core spasm as he slammed into her suddenly, tight even when he languidly pulled back as if her cunt was still trying to draw him back in, needing more and more. Every aching cry and moan was muffled by his hand, and although he listened and watched her face with hungry interest he managed to seem callously indifferent, his apathetic expression obscured by the ring of black hair falling around his face as he loomed over her.

"That's right, you're going to take another load, aren't you? Just one more." The thumb of his hand covering her mouth stroked her cheek in mock affection before his fingers firmed, indenting into her cheeks. His other hand hitched her closer to him, his cock rubbing deliciously inside of her, dragging over that sweet spot over and over again just so he could feel her hips buck and rise in delight. "Just have to make sure…" he trailed off, his gaze heated as it raked down her form, lingering at her navel before he leaned back to watch her take him and admire the mess from his prior use of her. "Such a receptive little kitten. You don't mind?" His lips curled into a wicked smile, eyes darting up to meet hers, "Maybe you want it too…" Aizawa couldn't bring himself to say the words, but his hand ascended from her hip, thumb caressing her stomach with a strange affection until he saw her eyes widen with realization of what he was alluding to. His smile carved deeper into his cheeks, flashing an uncanny grin at the simmer of panic he could see roiling in her, "Is that it? You want me to breed you, kitten?"

She couldn't answer, couldn't catch her breath, only blush wildly under his intense gaze as he gaged her reaction. But she didn't bite into his hand even as she shook her head no, only clenched around him beautifully at the words, giving him all the answer he needed while his hips rolled and slapped into hers. His eyes lit up, unabashedly intoxicated with the thrill, the risk – all of it amplifying the heady force of his thrusts, reveling in the way she shuddered against him, rutting her harder and faster than before until her fists twisted the sheets beneath her.

His hand shifted to press into her navel, stroking it until she thrashed beneath him with another embarrassed blush of her cheeks. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you," Aizawa looked feral, grinning lasciviously down at where they were connected and angling himself in further as she writhed under his weight, absorbed in the way her cunt squeezed and convulsed, wrapping tighter and tighter around his cock. "Just one more. One more and you'll be mine," He snapped into her with less and less patience, ramming into her deeper and harder with each stroke, shifting her body carefully to take him fully. But his hips stuttered and paused when he saw the bulge of his cock nudging up into his hand, staring, his face going slack for a fraction of a second. "He didn't fuck you like this, did he? Is this what you need?" He glared back up at her, his eyes fierce, possessive.

Her resistance withered under that glare – his fucking her was nearly brutal but exactly what she wanted, evident by the way her legs clung tighter, trying to force him in deeper. He laughed darkly in response, the sound labored and wretchedly smug.

He rammed into her with an intentional angle to his hips, forcing the fat head of his cock to strike her mark over and over once more. "Let me give you what you really need," his eyes narrowed into slits as he stared her down, his grin devolving into an eerily impassive smile that made her shiver and ignited her core, unsure why that cold indifference made flames lick through her belly like a roaring fire. "I'm going to fill you up so you can't leave," he murmured, grinding himself into her until she was fluttering around him and crying out in ecstasy behind his hand. "I'll make time to keep you full of me every day…bending my kitten over to breed her, pumping and pouring into her," it was a heated whisper as she climaxed, the words not registering as she tried to tear herself away from the too-intense pleasure, her cunt twitching and spasming around him frantically. But he held her fast to him, bucking into her as she came and soaked him, his voice becoming strained, his breathing ragged, his fucking growing urgent and erratic. "That's right, take it, take it for me kitten," he growled out. "Take it for Daddy," he whispered before burying into her with another shout, collapsing on top of her as he drained the last of his release inside of her.

Daddy? Her hands were clawing at his back until he uttered the word, his full weight pressed into her. This was all new territory, and the fact she caught her pleasure amplified by every deviant line…she had yet to bite into his palm, yet to tap out.

When he took his hand off her mouth his lips crushed into hers, the kiss rough and devouring, his full tongue sweeping into her and licking, stealing away any breath she had left. She tried to pull away, ignoring his rumble of dissatisfaction as he bent his head to nuzzle his cheek into hers, acting as if he didn't just say a slew of depraved things. "What's wrong, kitten?" He crooned sweetly, leaning down to lick at her exposed collar bone above the neckline of her torn hero suit, his breaths spilling over the wake of his tongue to make her shudder. "Am I too fucked up for you?" He sounded cool and confident despite the way he avoided her gaze, nosing at her jawline with unusual affection, hoping the way he began petting her navel with his thumb would go unnoticed.

She inhaled sharply and stared down between them, biting her lower lip as his hand splayed possessively over her stomach.

Aizawa stiffened then sat up, eyes flicking between her face and his hand. "Too much, too soon?" His tone was goading, gaze drifting down to where he was still pressed to the hilt inside of her. The bed sheets beneath them were saturated with his seed, trails of it streaming down her thighs, her sweet little hole so full of him that little spurts of it spilled out if he dared to move. His breath was shaky as he watched, feeling his cheeks start to warm again, "I like…the risk," he tried to phrase it not-so-wickedly. "Just imagining it," he added hastily before meeting her gaze, finding her avoiding his.

Something about his words made her squirm, tightening beautifully around him again, making him hiss at the pleasurable sensation. He took hold of her chin, lifting her head roughly to force her to look at his grinning visage, his words little more than a breath, "Oooh, you liked it, huh?" He hummed in approval, studying her face to admire how deliciously she blushed just for him, "Do you like the thought of me claiming you like that? Making you mine?"

"I wouldn't let you – not really," she felt the embarrassed heat rolling off her in waves, her breath catching in her throat. "You don't mean it – it's just a fantasy. You don't want to."

A smile crept onto his lips, something unsettling about it, "Maybe I do, kitten." He cocked his head to the side when she froze. "I'd love to pretend to," his gaze darted back down between her legs, very slowly starting to withdraw, utterly infatuated with every detail – how full of him she was, flooded in every respect, so tight but coated in him once he was pulled out. "I'll be sure to let you know if and when I truly mean it," Aizawa practically purred the words, glancing up at her to read her reaction.

"I wouldn't let you," her cheeks were still burning, trying to push him off but finding his dense form immovable.

"Sure you wouldn't," he licked at his lips, his tone colored with obvious disbelief – he was rapidly becoming more and more certain she had thoroughly enjoyed the fantasy. His attention refocused at the apex of her thighs, his hand diving into the narrow gap between them, gathering up his spilt seed with his fingertips and slipping it back in – it didn't matter that more of it just leaked out at the intrusion of his digits, only that she squirmed and gasped. She tried to twist her hips away but he did it again and again, those cold black eyes gleaming with satisfaction every time she tried to close her thighs, his fingers chasing her. "Don't want to waste it, do we? Just in case…" He trailed off, his implication clear. She tried to hide her face behind her hands, making him huff with amusement, leaning down to press his lips to her ear. "You're so pretty like this, blushing and full of me."

There was something primal about being wanted that way, feral, and it suited the side of him that she had come to know…but to fantasize about that with *her* when they barely knew each other? Her eyes found the headphones on the bed still playing his song on repeat, trying to look anywhere but at him. It must be an old kink of his he was exploring with her. She pushed his face away, her cheeks fiercely red, but there were no tears or traces of fear – just pure shyness, embarrassment, confused about how his words made her feel.

He could take care of that with enough time, he thought to himself, knowing she'd be begging for it before long, "Don't be like that, kitten. I'm just teasing." He ducked down to press kisses into her neck, toying with her further, "Did I give you what you needed, doll? I'm being patient because I know I can make you forget him." One hand slipped up into her hair, fisting it until she whined with a twinge of pain, forcing her to give him better access to the column of her throat so he could lick up the length of it. "Maybe you'll stop listening to all your sad songs if I fill you up enough times, hmm? I won't let you think about him anymore, talk to him, look at him…" He whispered arrogantly against her skin, knowing his words crossed the line as soon as they left his mouth, evident by the way she tensed. But he was unwilling to back pedal now, pulling away with a sordid grin.

He saw her hand coming, pulling further away but not dodging it completely – he had forgotten about her speed, withdrawing just enough that his nose took the brunt of a resounding slap. He wouldn't be caught off guard again, he thought to himself as he loomed above her. His expression was flat and emotionless with a trickle of blood flowing from his left nostril, dripping down and blooming across the fabric of her torn hero suit.

She covered her mouth with both hands, staring up at him, her face a combination of livid and shocked. "I've never hit –" she was breathing quickly, her body full of adrenaline, eyes unfocused with tears she wouldn't let fall. She blinked them away and steeled herself, taking a deep steadying breath, "Just…I'm sorry, I can heal it." She sat up hastily, pressing her thighs tightly together before meeting his gaze – his grin had been replaced by a self-satisfied smirk. It made her flush angrily, but she still raised her hand to her lips to blow tendrils of cold air across her fingertips, reaching out to his face.

He knocked her hand to the side and used the back of his sleeved forearm to wipe the blood away, not caring that it smeared across his upper lip. "What's wrong, kitten? Isn't that why you're using me? To forget him?"

"I'm not…not using you," they both knew it was a lie, utterly obvious she didn't believe the words as she said them.

"Liar," he hissed, snatching her wrists to draw her to him. "You love being used by me, but want to pretend that's one-sided? Does thinking that way make you feel better?" His tone was bemused, borderline callous. "I can promise you I love being used just as much – no need to feel guilty, doll face."

She tugged on her wrists, glaring at him, "Then I'm done using you. Leave."

He dropped her wrists, watching her shift to the edge of the bed as he tucked himself away. "Liar," it sounded oddly affectionate this time, smiling wryly now as he started re-fastening his clothes. "Perhaps you weren't ready to hear what I said, but this doesn't have to be a fight. Why should I walk away when we can talk about it? We can find out what we both want."

"You don't get to say a bunch of twisted shit then swoop in like the voice of reason," she leaned from the foot of the bed to grab her physician's coat that was draped over the back of her chair. "My past is what I make of it. What if that means I don't want to forget him? Maybe I want to keep talking to him, or to keep listening to my sad songs," her irritation was rapidly rising, putting on her coat with more force than necessary and buttoning it so that it'd cover her torn clothes when she stood. "Maybe I'm sentimental about the years I threw away. Hell, maybe I'll take him back!"

"I don't need you to help me. It's not your place to say shit like that." She continued and rubbed her forehead, brows furrowed like she knew that taking Sekijiro back wasn't truly an option. "You just assumed you've got a big magical cock and… and me just trying to not be lonely by *using you* is supposed to be how I fix all of the shit I'm going through? Like some mystical, mythical rebound?" There was a slight wobble when she rose to her feet, but she retreated from him when he reached out to steady her. "I've got emotional whiplash *and* an itch to scratch. You're only doing it for me in one respect, Eraserhead, not both! Guess which one, you presumptuous asshole."

Aizawa's smile was lazy, his eyes burning, watching her ardently and listening with rapt attention. He was trying to be serious, respectful…but he was adoring her this way, loving the way she spoke to him, how stubborn she was even when trying to bare her feelings. He stalked toward her, leaning in, that smile broadening into a sheepish grin when she looked confused at his approach. "Can you blame me for hoping? I'm not easily offended, kitten. And you'll come to find I'm very persistent," he inched even closer to her while she froze, stopping only when his lips were hovering just above hers. "Are you going to slap me again if I kiss you?" He whispered, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," she breathed out, her eyes flitting across his fucking stupidly handsome face.

"Liar," the word was rumbling before he claimed her mouth with his, finding her tongue meeting his instantly, her eyes fluttering shut – their kiss told him everything he needed to know, telling him every lie. But he withdrew, her lips chasing his at first, leaving her blushing and gasping. "You want me to let you walk yourself in circles while you figure things out? Fine. But I'm calling your bluff." He wiped a new trickle of blood away, huffing out a humored breath. "You'll find your way back to my bed either way."

Aizawa took off without another exchange, content to leave her in stunned silence with her feelings and make his way back across campus.

"Shou? Shou. Shoooou." Hizashi trailed after him outside the faculty dorms, a mischievous grin on his face. "SHOU!"

"Yes?" He finally growled back, stopping with his hands in his pockets just outside the lobby doors. Aizawa didn't have enough coffee for this today. In fact, he didn't have *any* coffee thanks to Hizashi.

"What's this I'm hearing about you leaving the healer's office with a bloody nose?" Hizashi rounded on him, craning his neck in an attempt to see behind Aizawa's spool of binding cloth obscuring his face.

"Is that all you heard about?" Aizawa teased, tipping his head up to reveal his face. The bleeding had stopped, but his upper lip still had a dry dusting of smudged blood across it. "She knocked that smug look off my face, but luckily I was wearing a second, smaller smug look underneath," he said dryly, tentatively pinching the bridge of his nose to test its soreness.

Remedy was determined to stall talking to him again today, afraid she'd wind up in his bed tonight just as he had predicted, that tempting reality sinking in more and more the lower the sun set. She managed to shower and change uninterrupted, and with the help of her booming sound system she slipped out of her apartment unnoticed to kill time on the winding campus track that wove behind their building. The full loop was unfamiliar to her even in the daytime but she knew it circled back both ways, and following the points of light that dotted the way was easy enough. Easier than dealing with Aizawa, surely.

Aizawa groaned inwardly when he caught sight of her under a park light in sportswear stretching on the trail below their balconies – she couldn't avoid him the whole night, could she? His patience was already waning, having debated knocking on her door since he heard the water to her shower shut off. But she had covered up any other sounds with the din of her music…clever brat. He waited until she disappeared around the treeline to slide his balcony door over and leave it open, allowing her music to filter in through one of her cracked windows and their shared wall. It was already dark, but he pulled up his desk chair to sit and watch her pass under the dim trail lights from just behind the threshold of his apartment. He could bide his time, wait out in the hallway for her once she decided to call it quits…unless she preferred Vlad's bed for the night – the running trail went by his set of faculty apartments too.

After three long laps she was considering throwing in the towel, certain she could get through the night with a pair of headphones and a locked door to keep any unwelcome visitors at bay until she passed out on the couch. She rounded the curve that took the trail past her building, slowing the moment she saw an immense form standing under the warm glow of a lamp. How is it that just when she managed to avoid one man, the other found a way to corner her? She huffed out an exaggerated sigh after she slowed to a stop, noting with satisfaction that it made Vlad's jaw tic.

They stood in tense silence, neither willing to be the first to speak – she had nothing to say to him since he was the one who sought her out…and, well, Vlad was just being Vlad. No further explanation needed. But it gave her a chance to catch her breath and undo the shower-damp braid securing her hair, leveling him with a sullen stare until he gave in.

"This has gone on long enough. You've proven your point, and I've said I'm sorry a dozen times," Vlad spoke in hushed tones but closed in until he towered over her, leaving her in his shadow with his arms crossed at his broad chest.

"You're seriously *still* insisting we're 'taking a break' and not broken up?" She audibly groaned, pulling out her phone and tapping at the screen to pull up their stream of texts. "I've probably told you that we're done as many times as you've apologized, am I supposed to count them up?"

"I can fix this. We can make it work," he murmured, trying to keep his voice carefully low – he didn't want anyone to know he came groveling for her to take him back. "You still love me, don't you?"

She tucked her hair behind her ear, averting her gaze. Why did it feel like he was just throwing that in her face to win her over? "That's…that's not enough. It's not the same." She wasn't even sure it was love anymore, but that wasn't something she wanted to work through in real-time outside of her faculty apartment building.

"I can prove it to you," Vlad was exasperated, tired of waiting for her to realize her mistake and come running back into his arms. "Just…let me kiss you."

She glared up at him, her mouth set to a stubborn pout. "You want to *kiss* me?" Her words betrayed the disbelief she felt that he'd even ask. Did Vlad really think that would work? Like this was a fairytale and he was the prince? She pushed her hair out of her face, "Is that supposed to convince me somehow?"

Vlad hesitated, his face pinched in confusion but eyes still immediately drawn to her lips. "Please?" He hated that she reacted to him so coldly now – maybe if he could just remind her of what they had, it would make things right…they could go back to how things were before their fight.

Aizawa decided to make his presence known just then, noisily hitting the striker of his lighter again and again from the third floor balcony hanging above them. The flame illuminated his face with a fiery burst of light when it finally caught and lit the cigarette hanging from his lips.

Vlad seemed to choke on his next breath as his head whipped up to find the source of sound, the sight of Aizawa looking boredly down at them making his stomach drop.

Her hands had found their way to her hips as she stepped out of Vlad's shadow to squint up at him through the lamp light. "Are you fucking kidding me," she muttered to herself, ignoring the way Vlad's eyes flitted between them both.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" Aizawa kept his volume down, not needing to raise his voice for it to carry – he had heard every word of their exchange without issue, after all.

"I can't avoid both of you during work hours, and now this?" She turned on her heel so her back faced them both, gazing out ahead at the trail. "I'd like a night or two off from dealing with…With whatever the fuck this is," she waved her hand dismissively before using it to muss her hair at the roots, giving it a little volume so it wouldn't stick to her skin with sweat. "I better not catch either of you still slinking around on my next lap, got it?"

Vlad flinched when she took off without waiting for a reply, staring after her until she was out of sight and earshot. "You just had to butt in, didn't you? I was getting somewhere," he glowered up at him, spinning on his heel to face the balcony. "You're just warming my spot on the bed," he muttered as if he wasn't worse off than Aizawa – like they were on even footing when it came to her. "She'll come back to me soon enough. Don't get comfortable."

Vlad was so laughably sure of himself that Aizawa couldn't resist the urge to knock him down a peg. "You begged her to kiss you," he relented before taking a slow drag from his cigarette, the red tip burning bright. Aizawa paused, holding in the puff on an inhale to let the words sink in. "She begged me to fuck her," he underlined the sentiment with a languid exhale of smoke, tendrils curling from his lips while he peered down at Vlad through the haze. "We are not the same."

Vlad sputtered incoherently, an angry crimson flush overtaking his cheeks, ears, and neck as his eyes raked over the side of the building, debating the best route to scale it.

Aizawa regarded him coolly, leaning into his arms folded atop the balcony ledge as if the prospect of Vlad climbing his way up wasn't even worth rising over.

Both were startled out of a stare-down when muffled snickering filtered its way through a screen door on the first floor, followed by the sound of someone getting smacked and shushed. It only caused the culprit to erupt into peals of laughter – laughter anyone at UA would recognize anywhere.

"Shhh, 'Zashi!" Nemuri must've jammed the heel of her foot into his ribs judging by the way Hizashi gasped and whined. But their cover was blown, prompting her to slide the screen door open and lean out over her ground-level patio from her spot on the floor mat, shot glass in hand. "That was better than any K-drama I had lined up," she quipped unabashedly. "An R-rated love triangle, too! Not at all that tender, veiled-meaning crap," she stifled a giggle, causing Hizashi to cackle again.

Vlad dragged his oven-mitt-sized hand over his face and let out an irritated growl. Maybe he should cut his losses before this got anymore embarrassing, before anything else was said out of turn. "She always wondered why I never brought her around. There's no privacy on this campus with all this rabble," he lamented aloud, catching sight of Present Mic dragging himself over the threshold of the patio on his stomach, double-fisting a pair of shot glasses per hand without spilling a drop.

"Who talks like that! 'Rabble,' does he mean us?" Hizashi stage-whispered and did a mocking, snuffling impression of Vlad that made him turn a deeper shade of red before storming off. "Deuces, big guy," he snickered, pausing when something caught his ear.

/ I told you everything, told you we were over

You made me take it back, 'wait until we're sober.'

We made it through the night, through the night…

But it's still coming. You are losing me. /

Nemuri eyed his retreating back before glancing up to Aizawa's balcony. "I don't think I need to be a sadist to find that satisfying," she kicked up her bare feet and set them on Hizashi's butt, crossed at her ankles. "But that was a low blow, even for you."

"What did she ever see in him?" Hizashi's glasses slid down the front of his nose, trying to look up through the long blonde hair that had fallen into his face for the source of music he could faintly hear. His cheeks were pleasantly rosy with the number of drinks he knocked back already, but his face was briefly screwed up in concentration over the lyrics, "I think I can pull up all of her playlists since I gave her access to mine."

/ Mmmm-h, nothing ever feels right,

Waking up like every night, need to just run.

But my head is in prison.

Everything's just pretend, every day I pretend…

Just like you. /

"What does that have to do with anything?" Nemuri sighed and swiped one of Hizashi's unfinished glasses from his nearest hand.

"Music is the window to the sooooul!" Hizashi whined the last syllable when he realized one of his drinks had disappeared. "That girl wears her heart on her speakers, not on her sleeve," he nodded approvingly and tossed back his remaining shot before Nemuri could nab it. "She really digs into her songs to set the mood."

Aizawa frowned, propping an elbow on the balcony rail and resting his chin in it while looking down at the pair – they looked like a heap of drunks piled halfway out her apartment. "Show her playlists to me, then," he said from behind his cigarette, finding his curiosity piqued.

"Oh, oh! Mister hopeless in romance wants my help?" Hizashi waved him off dismissively, looking over his shoulder for the bottle of sake. "I'd be an excellent wingman if I wasn't so flashy," he snickered to himself, trying to nudge the bottle closer to Nemuri with his foot.

"Bet you steal away all the attention," Nemuri grinned and reached for the sake, but not before dragging a few additional hard liquor bottles over.

Hizashi's brow furrowed, "It's too early in the week for your weird concoctions! Save it for the retirement banquet on Friday," he groaned as she began pouring generous helpings of each into a tall drinking glass within reach.

"Hey, stay focused! Are you gonna help me out or not?" Aizawa hissed down at them over the sound of a new song starting, his eyes darting up the trail where he could see the faint outline of her silhouette jogging under a lamp in the distance.

"Whoa, whoa, is that any way to talk to your best friend?…OI, REMEDY, COME HAVE A DRINK WITH ME!" Hizashi used his quirk to amplify his voice down the path, the sight of her shadow jumping at the sound eliciting a new round of laughter from him.

"What? No, you ass!" Aizawa leaned over the railing and glared down at them, whispering just loud enough for the pair to hear. "I need time with her!"

/ Everything is blurry when I'm with you.

Shit, I just don't want you like I used to.

This is rough but I can't be your lifeline,

You're not mine. /

"Naaaah, she needs space. Can't you hear these songs? Yeesh, you really are hopeless!" Hizashi hissed back, glancing between Aizawa and Remedy's approach. "Give her a day!" He pulled a face before pushing his black frame glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Heyyyyy, over here!" He gave Remedy a big wave from the ground with Nemuri still sprawled out and legs propped up on his rump.

/ Wanna get me high for the night, I…

I could let you try, you won't get it right.

Only feel alive when I'm dreaming, I, I… /

"You've got an impressive range, Yamada!" She jogged up to Nemuri's patio, stopping to lean forward and rest her hands on her knees while she tried to catch her breath. "Do…do you two need help getting up?" She could feel Aizawa's eyes on her, making her skin coldly pinprick with awareness despite the way she was radiating heat from her run. But she made a point of not looking up, determined to not engage with him.

"More like we need help getting drunk," Nemuri winked, "and it sounds like you need to vent about that oaf of a man."

/ Yeah, I promise you it all looks good on paper,

but I can promise you it's not like that.

My heart is hurting, I don't trust the world.

I don't understand who I am to you. /

"I'm so sorry, were we loud?" Her gaze flickered to her balcony, up and to the right on the third floor, cheeks starting to redden as she heard her own music still playing through a cracked window. "Fuck, it seems everything about me today is loud," she muttered to herself and straightened up, fumbling with her phone to disconnect her laptop and speakers remotely.

"*You're* worried about being loud? You ain't louder than me!" Hizashi cackled. "Come on, just a drink! It'll only be us," he wagged his eyebrows and started sitting up slowly, giving Nemuri time to swing her legs off.

Nemuri scooted back on her floor mat to make room as Hizashi retreated into the apartment. "Just one, or three!" She held up a tall glass for her to take, suspiciously filled with different hues of liquor that had yet to be stirred smooth.

"I suppose I really ought to hydrate after a run anyways, right?" She sheepishly remarked after the music died out, sneaking a glance up and to the left to spy Aizawa's shadow stretched down the wall – he was still lying in wait, leaning over his balcony. Remedy kicked off her shoes and set them outside before stepping through, feeling a sense of relief wash over as soon as the patio door slid shut behind her.

Aizawa was frowning at his phone screen an hour later, letting one of the videos Hizashi sent him loop endlessly.

/ I don't wanna lose my mind again

I remember every word you said /

She was blushing prettily in frame, humming and swaying to the song before being handed another one of Nemuri's dubious drink mixes. The moment the chorus started up both girls were laughing and bouncing on their feet, shouting along to the words.

/ You've changed

I've changed

You've changed

It's not the same /

"You're like a living, breathing catalog of perfect song suggestions," she giggled breathlessly in the background while Hizashi flipped the camera back to selfie-mode, flashing the phone a broad grin just short of the clip ending. 'Definitely no intention of getting back with Bloody McBroodFace,' read the text that accompanied the message.

Aizawa imagined he would have spent the night with them as a glorified babysitter, bemusedly corralling the unruly trio while getting pleasantly tipsy. But he had pushed too hard too quickly – a few days into screwing around wasn't the ideal time to drop a newly-found breeding kink on her in the heat of the moment…regardless of whether or not the mere suggestion made her tighten deliciously around him. He buried his face in his pillow to groan frustratedly, the memory both a sore spot and one that sent his blood rushing to his lower extremities.

But his cell pinged with a new message, making him peek up at the screen still in his hand.

'Just go easy on her tomorrow and you'll be fine,' Hizashi texted with a nonsensical stream of emojis before a new video loaded, finding the image of Remedy kneeling with her running jacket tied snug around her waist reflected back at him.

"The lead singer of Weezer?" She asked Hizashi before realizing she was being recorded and blushing at his phone. "You take a lot of videos!" She glanced up towards the ceiling as if suspecting where they were being sent, but the thought inspired a small smile to tug at her lips.

/ Wheels up, adios!

Yeah, we outta here.

Pack it up, Gonna disappear! /

Remedy blew a puff of her quirk-cold breath across the surface of a shot glass, her lips still upturned in a smile, and handed it off to Nemuri. "You sure? You'll be laughing for a minute straight if you drink it," she warned.

/ Sometimes, think about me.

Star-crossed, it just wasn't meant to be! /

Nemuri downed the shot without hesitation, immediately launching into an uncontrolled fit of giggles before she could even manage to set the glass down.

/ So take this song and hold it in your heart,

It's all I have to give you as we part.

I'm lost for words, to tell you how I feel.

But I'll be seeing you up in the clouds. /

Hizashi set his phone on the ground with a dull thud to reach for the glass she offered him, making as if the recording was done. "I'm just afraid of rushing into anything with anyone," Aizawa could hear her murmur in the background over Nemuri's gasping laughter, "It's all too complicated right now. I'm better off assuming everything is meaningless."

"I've never seen him so possessive! I mean that in a weirdly good way," Hizashi added hastily before cautiously sniffing the shot glass he was just handed. "What's this one do?"

"Just a little hit of dopamine!" Remedy snickered at his initial reluctance being replaced by enthusiasm when he drank it in one gulp. "A lot of my quirk comes down to manipulating body biology and chemistry. I'll save my *real* party tricks for another time," she flashed him an uncharacteristically conspiratorial smile Aizawa had never seen before. "No Truth or Dare shots on a school night!"

Aizawa rustled his hair into a mess, growling at the video clip as it ended, "How is telling her I'm being possessive *helping!*" He asked the question to no one in particular, the vein at his temple throbbing. This felt…childish. Why was he resorting to getting this information secondhand like a lovesick school boy? Why couldn't she voice her concerns with him directly? Why vent to them? Maybe he didn't seem approachable after being so pushy earlier, so certain she'd give in to him again and come over…Or did she finally conclude his 'use' of her was too intense, too obsessed?

If Hizashi was adamant she be left alone, perhaps he'd have better luck with Nemuri. 'How much longer?'

The only response was a selfie picture of Hizashi's golden brows furrowed coming from Nemuri's phone and the word 'Traitor.'

Aizawa gave up two hours later when he was sent a photo of Remedy passed out on Nemuri's couch, clinging to a pillow with a small, sleepy smile on her lips. He resigned himself to getting little to no rest as an insomniac, filling the time with grading papers on his laptop and periodically catching himself staring at the picture until he eventually fell asleep at his desk.

But he'd have no rest when his phone rang just shy of 3am, finding himself pulling on his gear for an assist on an Underground patrol.

[This author has a praise kink, so leave a comment below! Thanks to Honey and TheOccassionalArtist for beta reading!

Is it weird I want to get a commission done of Hizashi army-crawling through a patio door with drinks in both hands? I think I want the "traitor" text picture more though haha. Just angry blonde eyebrows, lmao.

Some notes *if you are already familiar with my Villain All Might fic* – Did I set up a Hero All Might fic with the an AU of the reader-insert character from All of You? Kinda, maybe for a couple one-shots *after* I wrap on one of my active fics. I have two AUs in my head that I'd really love to get out on here. Imma age Hero All Might down so he graduated with Aizawa's brat pack if so. I've wanted to write one where he's not an aggressive dom, maybe just a sweet himbo, but we'll see Asshole doms are my weakness.

Since it'll come up later: I consider this fic and the Endeavor fic to exist in the same AU. The Villain All Might fic is a separate AU but there are bound to be a few character or quirk crossovers between them, because I'm stupid/lazy and it's easy.

Songs in order they appeared:

Illenium - Good Things Fall Apart Vs. Sad Songs

Allie X - Paper Love

Hoang - When You're Lonely

Rosenfeld - Do It For Me

Ponette - Losing Me (Linko Remix)

Ponette - Meltdown

San Holo - You've Changed, I've Changed

San Holo - Wheels Up (Ft. Rivers Cuomo of Weezer)

I know I used a ton of songs this chapter, so sorry! I actually have a playlist I made just for this fic if anyone is actually interested, haha.]