Thread by @broscarwilde

nsfw #shinzawa thread 🔞
💜🖤

Hitoshi Shinsou said he would do anything to get into the Hero Course at UA.

Aizawa thinks desperation is a good look on him.

🖤💜
aka first year Shinsou gets more than he bargained for for when he agrees to private lessons with Aizawa sensei😩

cw! underage, virgin kink, afab terms, possible dubcon (will update as needed)

Shinsou was grateful when Aizawa took him under his wing for private training sessions. Anything to get ahead, to learn more about the hero course he desperately wanted in to.

And Aizawa was… like him.

He understood his quirk and how to use it.

Shinsou would make the most of his time with him.

Their first meeting, he realized how much he didn’t know, how far he was behind the hero course students.

Aizawa stressed that it wasn’t just knowledge and training, it was experience he lacked too.

How lucky was he that Eraser-head, a pro with underground experience AND the teacher of class 1-A, was here to help him fill in the gaps?

Shinsou met Aizawa in his office, same as last time. At first the teacher didn’t look up from his computer, a pencil twisted messily in his long hair. Shinsou grit his teeth and sat down, gaze lowered. His stomach fluttered.

If someone like Aizawa made him feel this intimidated, he’d never make a good hero. Would his stomach flutter like this in front of a villain?

Aizawa glanced up, spun around in his chair to face him.

Yeah, at this rate, Shinsou wouldn’t be much use against any actual threat, because the way Aizawa’s hooded eyes seemed to look right through him made his heart beat in his throat.

The teacher’s carefully careless gaze always seemed to catch Shinso’s every fault and shortcoming

He twitched under it like a bug under a microscope. Aizawa cocked an eyebrow.

“You okay, kid?”

Shinsou nodded curtly. Aizawa just shrugged and started the lesson.

He’d been running Shinsou through a series of crash course lessons designed to make up for blind spots in Shinsou’s hero-specific knowledge, having missed out on the better part of a year’s worth of hero training classes. Rescue, evacuation, sting operations.

Training for how to use his quirk in any given scenario.

At some point, they got to talking about compromising scenarios. Shinsou’s head swam as Aizawa described villainous interrogation tactics that’d never occurred to him before.

“Villains,” Aizawa explained matter-of-factly, “know how to identify a weakness and exploit it. It’s important to know about any soft spots you may have, and prepare to defend those accordingly.”

“Soft spots?” Shinsou asked, scratching at the back of his neck.

Aizawa sighed.

“It’s easy to screw up in the field against someone who knows how to… push your buttons. If you’re too reactive, or if you’re an open book about what sets you off, it can make you… vulnerable. Easier to manipulate.”

Shinsou looked down at his hands on his thighs.

“For some people,” Aizawa continued, tone bored, “even physical intimacy can be a weakness to be exploited. A small touch, or just the right words, can be the difference between a hero fighting back or falling to their knees.”

Shinsou looked up at this, puzzled, but for some reason, the look in Aizawa’s eyes made him look back down, conscious of his face growing warm under his sensei’s gaze.

He realized that his hands were clenched in his lap, muscles taut like a bowstring.

Aizawa breezed along, shuffling papers on his desk.

“Experience and level of comfort with intimate scenarios can make all the difference, especially for a younger hero starting out.”

He chuckled under his breath.

“After all, a hero who’d never been kissed, for example, would be easy to break in any scenario.”

Shinsou swallowed.

Was it hot in here? It had to be, the room seemed impossibly small in that moment, and Aizawa seemed impossibly close, even from across the desk. Shinsou chewed his lip nervously. He knew he was far behind in the experience department.

He hadn’t realized it would amount to a tactical issue in the field…

Aizawa had looked up from his papers to watch the gears in Shinsou’s head spin. “Ah, I’ve struck a nerve,” Aizawa grinned at Shinsou’s palpable distress.

“No, I… I just-” Shinsou stammered, face embarrassingly warm.

“I apologize,” Aizawa said slowly.

“It didn’t occur to me, I mean, with everything I overhear from my class, that someone your age wasn’t already…”

He glanced at Shinsou, eyes flicking up and down almost imperceptibly.

“Experienced.”

(Tbc 👉👈)

/Experienced?/

Was Aizawa sensei implying that the whole hero class were champion fuckers already? And he’d assumed Shinsou… he… well, what did he think about Shinsou?

What did his teacher see when he looked at him? A blushing virgin? A shrinking violet?

“We can move on the the next scenario if you’re ready,” Aizawa said, breaking Shinsou’s reverie. He looked at him with an eyebrow cocked.

“Unless you’re interested in staying on this topic?”

Shinsou gulped and reached for his packet on the desk, hands fumbling.

Aizawa chuckled softly. “Look how distracted you are already. This certainly is a soft spot for you.”

Shinsou tried not to focus on the hard edge slipping into his Sensei’s tone as he stared at the papers on the desk.

Shinsou met his eyes and felt trapped in them, locked in a tense gaze like a challenge. Aizawa leaned forward, the tips of his long loose hair dragging in his papers, until he was leaning on his forearms over the desk.

“If it’s so important to you, you could ask me to help.”

Shinsou’s eyes widened and his mind raced to figure out what his sensei was implying. It couldn’t be what it sounded like. Why would he… he wouldn’t offer to… to help how exactly?

Shinsou flinched when he realized that Aizawa was playing with a bit of his uniform tie.

He pinched the end of it between two fingers and tugged lightly enough that Shinsou could feel only the faintest pressure around his throat. Shinsou felt himself leaning forward, or was led forward, he couldn’t quite tell, until he could feel his Sensei’s breath on his face.

“Go ahead,” Aizawa murmured. “Ask me.”

(Top of thread, tbc) #shinzawa #nsfw

https://twitter.com/broscarwilde/status/1468474740293701633

Shinsou’s face burned. He felt lightheaded now that Aizawa was close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him. When his eyes met his teacher’s they were sharp, the man’s lip curled up in a challenge.

Shinsou swallowed and leaned forward, tipping out of his chair and bracing himself with his hands on the desk. He willed his voice not to shake.

“Please, sensei.”

Aizawa chuckled softly, face now inches away from Shinsou’s.

“Come on, baby, you can do better than that.”

Shinsou sucked in a breath at the name and forced himself not to think about it, not to become distracted by the task at hand. His teeth dug into his bottom lip.

“Want you to help me,” he breathed. “Help me learn how to… to-“

He faltered, realizing with a jolt of panic that Aizawa was pulling back, leaning in his chair, worlds away on the other side of the small desk, leaving Shinsou braced against the hard surface, red faced and breathing hard, wondering where he went wrong.

“Get over here,” Aizawa intoned, bored sounding despite the command in his words. “And I’ll see what I can do.”

Shinsou flushed. He couldn’t have his sensei think of him as a lost cause, or a chore, or a burden, as his put upon tone seemed to imply.

But he had asked for his help, it was too late to refuse… whatever it was he was offered.

Shinsou straightened up and, with great effort, closed the torturously long distance to the place Aizawa leaned lazily in his chair, legs parted out in front of him, arms casually crossed behind his head.

Shinsou stopped in front of him, achingly unsure of himself, hands clenched at his sides. Aizawa’s eyes flicked up at him, dark and burning with something Shinsou couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t have all day, kid,” he huffed.

Shinsou felt himself growing exasperated.

“I don’t really know what you want me to do here, sensei” he choked out, embarrassed at the admission.

Aizawa cocked his head. “You’re the one who asked for my help.”

His even tone made Shinsou feel ridiculous for getting frustrated. His eyes widened as Aizawa lowered his hands to his thighs, spreading them slightly as he looked up, suggesting an invitation.

“Not much I can do with you all the way up there.”

Shinsou blushed at the implication as Aizawa spoke, voice low, looking up at Shinsou lazily.

Shinsou felt himself lowering, as if on autopilot, to maneuver himself into his teacher’s lap, perching his butt on one thigh, his long legs swung over the other.

He felt ridiculous in the childish pose, suddenly vulnerable as he found himself gripping Aizawa’s shoulders, searching with trembling hands for purchase to balance himself. He felt a steadying hand on his waist.

Better,” Aizawa murmured. “I can feel you shaking like a leaf.”

Shinsou’s eyes squeezed shut as he tried to calm himself, to steady his breathing and slow his pulsing heart. The hand at his waist slid slowly, feeling up his ribcage over his shirt.

“I can tell you’ve never even been touched like this before. You’re very reactive.”

Shinsou’s fingers dug into Aizawa’s shoulders.

“Look at me.” Aizawa sounded stern. Shinsou’s violet irises flicked up to his face.

“You see what I mean?” Aizawa continued, voice softer. “You’re wide open like this. Would probably do whatever I said without even thinking.”

He held Shinsou’s gaze as his palm roamed over his chest. “Can you imagine how vulnerable that would make you in the field? If some villain caught on that you’d turn to putty in his lap?”

Shinsou felt his eyes prickle with shame. His sensei was right, he was weak like this. His mouth felt dry, his head swam, his skin prickled at every point where Aizawa’s hands touched.

“You’re not hopeless,” Aizawa continued. “It’s something that can be trained. Controlling your body’s reactions.”

Shinsou’s mind caught on the word ‘useless.’

Aizawa’s hand slid further up, ghosting over the sensitive skin of his throat until it came to close around Shinsou’s jaw lightly.

Shinsou’s breath hitched as a thumb pressed into his lip and trailed across it, rubbing back and forth.

The hand at his waist pulled him closer. He felt the press of his forehead against his sensei’s, the warmth of breath as his face was tilted so soft lips brushed his own.

“Think of a way to get out of this hold right now.”

Aizawa’s voice cut through Shinsou’s thoughts, forcing him to pay attention to his words rather than the feeling of them so close to his lips.

Shinsou’s brow furrowed as he tried to focus, to conjure a solution from his mental backlog of combat training and defensive maneuvers.

It felt like thinking through cotton, sluggish and slow, mind caught on the feeling of fingers pressing into his chin, breath ghosting over his parted lips, a hand sliding over his hip.

“Can’t… Can’t think,” he mumbled, ignoring the thought of his own weakness in the eyes of his sensei as he leaned into the touch, arching into the hand at his hip, pressing his chest flush against Aizawa’s, closing the distance between them with his lips softly parted.

Shinsou tingled all over at the first real press of their lips together, a flooding wave of sensation at the realization of how powerless he was in the man’s arms.

The hand at his jaw slid back, sank into his hair, and pulled him closer.

Shinsou felt an embarrassing noise escape from the low in his throat at the unfamiliar sensation of a warm tongue pressing into his mouth and sliding against his own.

He struggled to keep pace with Aizawa’s sloppy, biting kiss, clumsy in his own movements as he worked out how to kiss back and breathe at the same time, painfully aware of the spit pooling in his mouth, unsure whether to swallow it down or let it trickle down his chin.

He felt like he could hear every sound they were making echo in the quiet office, the soft wet smacks of their connected mouths, Aizawa’s hum of approval in contrast to Shinsou’s own breathy noises.

Shinsou couldn’t help but react, to blush and pant and whimper and tremble at the feeling of Aizawa’s tongue exploring his mouth, sliding it up the ridged roof of his mouth, dragging teeth against his bottom lip, stubble rough against smooth skin.

He felt the guiding hand pressed into his hair tug and maneuver his head to tilt as the other man desired.

Shinsou kissed back eagerly until he was breathless.

He felt the hand in his hair pull him back so that their mouths disconnected, though he dizzily attempted to press forward, chasing the feeling of his sensei’s soft, bitten lips.

He whined at the loss.

“You know, kitten, I get the feeling you’re having a hard time paying attention to the lesson.”

Shinsou felt himself nod dumbly, definitely distracted by the warm feeling pooling low in his stomach that made him squeeze his thighs together and press even closer to his sensei.

Aizawa lowered his hands at the feeling of the boy squirming in his lap, holding Shinsou tight by the hips. Shinsou bit his lip and choked on a groan.

“So eager, baby. Think I’m gonna need to let you get this out of your system before we can do any more work today.”

Aizawa tipped his head forward to nuzzle into the enticingly bruise-free divot between Shinsou’s neck and shoulder, hands sliding back to palm at Shinsou’s ass over his pants.

“That’s how you build up a tolerance to it, anyway. Get used to the feelings, so you can control your body’s reactions.”

He scraped his teeth over a bruise in Shinsou’s neck as the boy let out a high whine.

😜 tbc (👇top of thread)

https://twitter.com/broscarwilde/status/1468474740293701633

🖤…………………………….💜

A hand worked to tug the bottom of Shinsou’s shirt out from where it was tucked into his uniform pants. It slid up, roaming skin on skin, and he sighed at the contact.

The hand came around to travel up the front of his body, fingers brushing the flesh of his belly, a layer of soft over solid muscle he’d worked so hard to build.

Aizawa gripped messy purple locks with a fist and tugged Shinsou’s head back, baring pale unmarked skin. He dragged his tongue flat up the sensitive flesh as Shinsou shuddered and whined.

“So sensitive,” Aizawa murmured. “Have you ever touched yourself, Hitoshi?”

Shinsou gasped at the feeling of Aizawa’s hands creeping up his chest, fingers toying with the edge of his binder before they slipped up under the hard press of fabric.

He could barely hear the question, barely noticed the way Aizawa’s voice sounded around his name, too familiar. Fingers hooked under the material and worked it up from the edges until it gathered above Shinsou’s small breasts, exposed now under his uniform shirt.

His Sensei’s hands felt warm and rough on the sensitive, untouched skin. Shinsou felt teeth in the skin of his neck like a sharp reminder.

He whined. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, baby,” Aizawa growled, twisting a tender nipple with his fingers.

Shinsou struggled to remember what he was asked. His throat felt like it closed up, mouth suddenly impossibly dry. He breathed in deep and shook his head, trembling as his sensei kneaded and squeezed.

“H-haven’t,” Shinsou panted, pulling away from the rough touch.

Aizawa smirked, the corner of his mouth turning up. He didn’t let up, pulling at Shinsou’s perky nipples until he squeaked and stuttered out a whine.

“Tell me where it feels good, baby boy,”

Aizawa ghosted his lips along Shinsou’s jaw as he spoke, voice low and commanding. Shinsou pressed his thighs together and squeezed his eyes shut as Aizawa’s played with his chest.

/Wasn’t it obvious?/

Shinsou shuddered as arousal sparked through him, hard and sharp. He felt dizzy with it, lost in the unfamiliar sensation. He’d felt turned on before, sure, but was used to biting it back, choking it down, and keeping it under rigid control.

He’d never had someone else’s hands on him, making him feel like this. Now, he felt himself unravel under his sensei’s groped his body and rubbed rough stubble against his neck.

“Sensei, can..” he choked out, flushed and breathing hard, his chest heaving under wide palms.

“Can you quit it with the pet names?”

He flicked his quivering, purple irises down at the man imploringly. Aizawa met him with a smile, looking up from where he’d been attacking the boy’s throat.

“But sweetheart,” he cooed. “You blush so pretty for me when I say them.”

Shinsou cringed and bit his lip. He knew his sensei could feel his heart speed up under his hands, had felt the way it sped up when he called him ‘baby.’

Shinsou’s head swam, because the man who was supposed to be helping him was sliding his hands back to palm at his ass, squeezing as he captured Shinsou’s lips in another biting kiss.

Then the hands were rearranging him until his thighs straddled Aizawa’s lap.

Aizawa hummed against his lips.

“Unbutton your shirt for me, baby,” he murmured. Shinsou complied with trembling fingers. His shirt hung half open when his sensei’s fingers came to unbuckle his belt.

He whined into the other man’s mouth and brought his hands down to fumble with Aizawa’s, stopping him from unfastening the belt.

Shinsou pulled back, breathless, and looked at him, eyes wide with something like betrayal.

“What are you-“ he gasped, cut off at the feeling of blunt nails dragging up the sensitive skin of his pale, now bare, torso.

“I suppose it’s all right,” Aizawa sighed. “We’ve still got plenty of time to get your pants off.”

Shinsou squirmed as his sensei leaned in to mouth at his neck and fingers came to toy with his tits.

“Sensitive, huh?”

Shinsou let out a tiny nod, then gasped when Aizawa twisted his nipples and pulled at the buds, watching them snap back to hard little peaks.

“So pretty for me, baby,” Aizawa groaned. “Gonna find all your soft spots and play with them until you build up some self control, okay?”

Shinsou’s head was turned to one side, eyes shut tightly, and he let out a shaky breath.

Aizawa twisted a nipple roughly and, at the same time, brought up a hand and turned Shinsou’s head back to face him, pinching at his jaw so his lips puffed out in a pout.

“Look at me when I speak to you, baby.” He rubbed soothing circles in the boy’s jaw with his thumb, watching as trembling eyes gaped back at him.

“I’m gonna break you down and build you up stronger again,” he breathed, leaning in to butt the kid’s forehead softly with his own.

“Okay?”

Shinsou stilled before, inevitably, he let out a shaky nod, overwhelmed by the proposal, but intoxicated by his sensei’s touch.

“Good boy.”

Aizawa leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, sighing contentedly into the boy’s mouth.

His hands trailed back down to his belt and unfastened it, slowly undoing Shinsou’s pants until the material fell around his hips.

When Aizawa pulled back, he looked ravenous. Strands of hair hung over his face, his gaze hard and appraising. He licked his lips hungrily as he dragged his hands once more up the flushed, disheveled body of the boy panting on his lap.

Paralyzed under his gaze, Shinsou felt Aizawa’s hands move swiftly, efficiently ridding him of his half-unknotted tie, slipping his shirt off at the shoulders, and tugging his binder the rest of the way off so it fell somewhere on the floor.

Shinsou let out a surprised moan when Aizawa ducked his head to suck the nub of a pert, pink nipple into his mouth, bobbing with delicious pressure and tonguing at it messily.

Shinsou felt the wet drag of slick puddling in his boxers.

He stared at the ceiling and tried to even out his breathing, recognizing how far in over his head he was as his sensei’s shaggy black head bobbed at his chest like a buoy, accompanied by lewd slurping noises.

Christ, he’d never been so turned on in his life.

His fingers itched to grab something. Aizawa’s shoulders? His hair? He let out a shaky groan as Aizawa switched sides, clutching Shinsou around the waist roughly, pressing him closer.

Shinsou felt himself rocking his hips up into the air in Aizawa’s direction, achingly wet, his body seeking out friction seemingly with a mind of its own. Aizawa stilled at the first brush of Shinsou’s crotch against him.

He hummed and licked a stripe up Shinsou’s sternum, stopping to suck a mark into his clavicle.

“So needy. You’d let me do anything I want right now, wouldn’t you, kid?” He looked up at Shinsou with a wry smile, fond, dark around the edges.

Shinsou swallowed, blushing up to his ears. It’s true, he couldn’t stop the man right now if he tried.

“Well, if you’re this easy for a dirty old teacher, you’d be useless against any real threat.”

Shinsou paled at the reminder that this exercise was supposed to be a lesson.

Something about controlling himself? Aizawa’s brow furrowed, expression turning steely again before he returned to his assault on Shinsou’s chest, biting a mark into creamy skin.

Then, hands were at his waist, sliding his pants down to his thighs and hoisting him up and back until he felt Aizawa’s desk under him.

Shinsou felt strangely exposed, intimately aware of his lack of clothes as he was spread bare across the hard surface, legs hanging off and feet dangling uselessly, tangled together by the pants around his ankles.

Aizawa chuckled and pressed at Shinsou’s thighs, hands firmly gripping the soft flesh, bending him back at the waist was far as he could go.

“Nice and flexible, huh?” he murmured.

Shinsou blushed, and Aizawa readjusted to hold Shinsou’s legs up by the ankles with one hand while the other hand came to untie the laces on his sneakers.

One by one, he worked the shoes off of his feet, let them drop to the floor with a thud, and let his socks fall after them.

He pressed a kiss to the sole of one foot, then the other.

“S-sensei, what are you doing?” Shinsou breathed out, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Aizawa just grunted and slid the boy’s pants down and off his legs, belt buckle clanging as it dropped to the floor.

Shinsou gasped when his bare legs were parted and Aizawa stepped in between them, dragging his body forward with hands on his hips until he could feel the press of his sensei’s clothed crotch through the thin material of his underwear.

Aizawa was painfully, undeniably hard against him. The man sighed as he pulled Shinsou closer and rocked forward, relishing the friction of the small movement.

Shinsou bit back a whine. A hand came down to rub at the front of his boxers.

“You like that, baby?” Aizawa groaned.

“You like feeling how hard you got me?” He dragged his thumb up Shinsou’s slit through his boxers, coming to rub teasingly at his clit.

“So wet for me.”

Shinsou shuddered at the touch, legs moving to squeeze shut reflexively, succeeding only in tightening around Aizawa’s hips.

“That’s right, baby.” Aizawa smirked, eyes hooded as his thumb rubbed little circles, torturously slow.

“Tell me how good it feels. I want to hear your pretty voice.”

“S-so good,” Shinsou panted out.

“Bet no one’s ever touched you here before.” Aizawa hummed.

“You’re lucky it was me. Don’t even know what you’re doing right now, looking up at me with those big, helpless eyes.”

His mouth curled up and he practically growled.

Fingers slipped into the waistband of Shinsou’s underwear and tugged it down, lifting one leg by the ankle to work the boxers all the way off.

He placed Shinsou’s feet onto the edge of the desk one by one, thighs pushed out to either side, so his pink little pussy was on full display, twitching and drooling slick.

Shinsou groaned and hid his face in his hands, embarrassed at the exposed position, naked and trembling under his teacher.

“So shy,” Aizawa teased, tracing a finger down Shinsou’s gleaming slit to the wetness gathered at his hole. “So sweet.”

He raised a slick sticky finger and brought it up to Shinsou’s mouth.

“Open up baby, want you to taste yourself.”

Shinsou’s eyes flicked between the finger in his face and the man leering above him. Hesitantly, he parted his lips.

His sensei’s finger traced along his lips before sliding in, pressing firm on his tongue.

Shinsou moaned around the intrusion before closing his lips and sucking around it, tasting salty slick on his tongue. Aizawa slowly rocked his finger in and out, before adding a second.

“So greedy, baby,” he murmured, watching Shinsou with a hungry admiration as he slid his fingers down to the last knuckle, pressing on the boy’s tongue and making him gag.

Shinsou felt strings of spit fall on his chin as Aizawa pulled his fingers out with a satisfied groan.

He rubbed wetly against Shinsou’s entrance again, gathering more slick, before sliding further down to press against his pretty pink rim, tight and fluttering at the touch. Shinsou squealed at the feeling of cold wet fingers against his hole.

“So perfect,” Aizawa murmured. “Two little holes for me to play with.”

Shinsou stuttered as fingers traced circles around his rim.

“N-not there, sensei, please,” he gasped. Aizawa only smiled, his fingers insistent in their teasing. Shinsou groaned.

“I’ve never… it’s not…” his voice broke off. He was at a total loss for words.

What do you tell your teacher when he starts playing with your ass?

“What’s that, baby?” Aizawa crooned, still smiling darkly.

“You know, you must really like this. You could use your quirk to stop me if you didn’t.”

Shinsou squeezed his eyes shut, he could feel the tip of a finger pressing a little bit deeper.

“Or,” Aizawa mused. “You just trust me that much.”

He grinned and twisted the finger in to the second knuckle. Shinsou let out a broken moan, cringing at the stretch as Aizawa fucked his hole with shallow thrusts of his thick finger.

“So tight, kitten,” Aizawa hummed contemplatively as Shinsou panted under him, flushed pink and dripping where saliva gleamed on bruised skin, hips twitching at the discomfort of Aizawa’s probing finger working him open with nothing but spit and slick.

With his free hand, Aizawa pulled his chair to his desk and sat eye level with Shinsou’s spread legs on the desk. Shinsou could feel the light brush of long, dark hair against his splayed thighs and the warmth of breath when his sensei spoke again.

“It’s normally a good idea to use lubricant for this, but you’re not always going to have it on hand in the field.”

Aizawa grunted on a particularly hard thrust of his wrist, curling his fingers inside of Shinsou and making him keen at the stretch.

“Sometimes,” Aizawa continued, “a hero needs to make do in a /tight/ spot.”

He used the advantage of the sitting position to work another finger into Shinsou, spitting a glob of saliva onto the boy’s hole to ease the way.

Shinsou panted, tears pricking his eyes as his tight virgin hole was stretched around two thick fingers.

His mind struggled to stay focused on the situation at hand, not on the burn of the fingers curling inside him or the feeling of slick and spit dripping down his hole and onto the papers under him.

Aizawa’s words rolled around in his head. Had the teacher ever been fucked like this, fingered on his back in a dank alley or a dingy hideout doing hero work?

A thrill ran through Shinsou at the mental image, at the thought that his unflappable sensei had ever been laid out and helpless like he was now, that he’d had the same lesson drilled into him as a young hero.

Shinsou was suddenly rendered unable to think, struck dumb and drooling, eyes rolling back at the mind-numbing sensation of hot, wet pressure around his clit.

He looked down through tear clumped lashes and met Aizawa’s dark, tired eyes as the man proceeded to suck wetly at Shinsou’s sensitive clit before dipping to lap at the boy’s glistening folds and twitching entrance.

Shinsou felt the muscles in his legs tense and clench, arms reaching to grab and pull desperately, fingers lacing into his sensei’s hair as Aizawa dragged his tongue back up to Shinsou’s clit.

Shinsou’s eyes clenched shut, he couldn’t watch, but he could hear the slick sounds of his holes being played with.

He could feel his sensei’s moans reverberate against him as the man greedily sucked and tongued at his sensitive slit, dripping spit and slick down his crack and around the fingers still mercilessly pounding into his ass.

Aizawa pulled off with a smack and licked his lips like he was at a fucking wine tasting, fingers still fucking in and out of Shinsou’s clenching hole at a steady pace that drove him crazy.

Shinsou clearly didn’t know the first thing about… whatever this all was. Sure, he wasn’t totally clueless about sex, he knew the basic mechanics well enough from porn, but he’d never imagined himself like this, on his back with someone or something in any of his holes.

Definitely not with his hot-but-scary teacher.

But whatever this was, his mind was swimming and his skin felt too tight and he was dripping wet aching for something.

“You taste so fucking sweet, kid. It’s incredible,” Aizawa groaned, stroking Shinsou’s thigh with the fingers he wasn’t fucking him with.

“Can’t believe that I’m the only one who gets to suck on this pretty little pussy.”

Shinsou couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the words. He knew that he must be flushed all over already but he felt his face grow even hotter.

“You like that, baby? You like letting a dirty old teacher use you like this?”

Shinsou clenched his teeth and averted his gaze. The room felt eerily quiet in the absence of his response, save for the huff of his breath and the rhythmic wet sounds of fingers fucking into his tight hole.

“You don’t have to be shy, baby, I know it feels good,” Aizawa smirked, sliding his hand down to thumb Shinsou’s clit with slow, practiced movements that made him twitch and whine.

“Bet you could come just like this, just from my hands. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby?” Aizawa watched Shinsou expectantly.

The boy clenched his eyes and choked back a groan, still not trusting himself to answer.

Aizawa sped up his movements, working Shinsou’s clit until he shuddered and twitched his hips forward, moaning openly as his inhibitions fell away at the overwhelming pleasure.

Aizawa stopped abruptly before he could reach his peak, running his now slick sticky palm up and down the boy’s thigh as his pussy twitched and his asshole fluttered and clenched around his fingers.

“Didn’t I tell you to use your words?” Aizawa asked sternly.

Shinsou’s eyes grew wide and he nodded, freeing his lip from where it had been tugged and bitten at by his own teeth.

“Y-yes sensei,” he choked out, hearing himself sound breathy and embarrassingly high to his own ears.

“There’s that pretty voice,” Aizawa sighed, keeping his dark eyes trained on Shinsou’s.

“Now tell me how you want me to make you come.”

(Welp, guess they’re still going at it. Stay tuned 😈✨ (& here’s the top of the thread)

https://twitter.com/broscarwilde/status/1468474740293701633

😈 Mmkay what do you think…

Does Shinsou ask Aizawa to make him come on his fingers?

Or does he want him to fuck his pussy/ass?

#shinzawa #nsfw

@threadreaderapp unroll

(thanks everyone who participated in the poll !!! It's been a while!) anyways...

In his desperation, Shinsou felt utterly shameless, back arched and hips rocking up and down on the desk.

“My p-pussy sensei,” he choked out. “Want you to f-fuck my pussy.”

Shinsou thought the words sounded lewd and somewhat ridiculous in his trembling, fucked out, whining voice, but the request seemed to spur on his sensei even more.

He let out a growl and pulled his fingers out of Shinsou’s asshole, torturously slow, only to spit in his hand and work in a third finger.

“You want me to fill up your pretty little virgin cunt when I’ve already got this pretty hole stretched and wet for me?” Aizawa teased.

Shinsou whimpered and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the impossibly full feeling of his tight pink hole stretched around thick, probing fingers.

Shinsou groaned in frustration. How pathetic would he look in front of his sensei, coming on nothing but a couple of fingers up his ass?

His sensei didn’t seriously expect to fuck him in the ass, did he?

They’d already gone this far, if he was going to be deflowered on a fucking desk at school by a trusted adult, Shinsou at least wanted to be able to say that he wasn’t a virgin anymore.

Not that his virginity was anything but a technicality, at this point.

“Want you inside me,” Shinsou choked out, noticing that Aizawa still hadn’t made any move to fuck him anywhere with anything other than his fingers.

“In my pretty little cunt. I’m so fucking wet for you, sensei, please,” Shinsou felt his voice crack as he trailed off with a whine.

Aizawa finally slid his fingers out of Shinsou’s now uncomfortably empty hole, making him whimper and rock his hips up into the air.

“You beg so pretty for me, baby,” Aizawa chuckled darkly, wiping his hand on his black jumpsuit as he stood. “Such a shame to waste tight young pussy on a dirty old man.”

He grinned, working down the zipper on his costume until his black briefs were exposed. Shinsou watched under glazed over eyes, taking in the dark hair trailing down his sensei’s strong, wiry torso to the waistband of his briefs.

Sharp hipbones framed his flat stomach and seemed to point the way, like arrows, to the substantial bulge straining at his crotch. Aizawa stroked his cock through his underwear lazily, dark eyes dragging over the flushed, pale teenager sprawled out debauchedly before him.

Aizawa groaned and tugged down his briefs, freeing his cock so it slapped hard and flushed against the scruff of hair on his pale belly.

He dug his fingers into the flesh of Shinsou’s creamy white thighs and pulled him forward so his ass hung halfway off the desk.

Shinsou’s legs wrapped around Aizawa’s waist for balance and Aizawa rocked forward to slide the underside of his hard cock along the boy’s slick wet slit.

Shinsou bucked into the movement, matching Aizawa’s pace as he relished the sweet slide of his heated flesh against Shinsou’s folds before teasing the head of his cock at Shinsou’s entrance.

“Your little hole’s trying to swallow me up,” Aizawa breathed with a touch of amusement, showing a remarkable amount of self restraint for a debauched old pervert pressing his hard dick up against a twitching, underage hole. “You really are desperate for it aren’t you, kitten?"

"Almost makes me feel like I’m taking advantage.” He grinned and rocked his hips forward, forcing his way past the resistance of Shinsou’s tight walls as a strangled moan fell from the boy’s mouth.

Aizawa pressed in at a steady pace until his cock was packed in to the hilt, surrounded by warm, wet heat.

Shinsou choked out a sob, feeling tears threatening to spill down his cheeks at the sharp pain edged with dull pleasure of Aizawa’s thick cock splitting him open.

(Home stretch upcoming🚨Reposting CWs just to be safe: underage! age gap! virginity/virgin kink! afab terms! dubcon! Maybe a dash of noncon/revoked con!)

Aizawa bent over the boy completely, their chests pressing together between them.

He was propped up on his forearms, caging Shinsou in against the desk, dark hair hanging in his face, tickling Shinsou where it fell and dragged along his skin.

Aizawa was close enough to watch the boy’s face contort as he shallowly thrust inside, breathing in desperate moans as he pulled his hips back and dragged out slow.

“So fucking wet for me,” Aizawa breathed hot against Shinsou’s cheek. “Such a slut already, moaning for my cock.”

He mouthed at the boy’s jawline and nipped down to his throat, fucking into Shinsou at the same time, setting a slow but steady pace.

Shinsou whimpered and squeezed his legs tight around the man.

“F-fuck,” Shinsou panted, arching into his sensei’s touch, eyes nearly rolling back at the feeling of Aizawa’s thick cock deep inside of him.

“My good little student,” Aizawa hummed. “Thought you were such a know-it-all when you first came to me. So desperate to prove yourself.”

Aizawa groaned as tight walls clenched around his cock.

He slid his hands up to squeeze at Shinsou’s chest, picking up the pace of his hips slapping against the boy’s under him.

“You wanted to be a hero but you broke so easy for me, baby. Such a natural slut. How do I know you’re not just going to become a hole for anyone to use?”

He punctuated his word’s with a sharp drag of teeth up Shinsou’s neck.

“W-won’t,” the boy choked out. His hips were rocking to meet Aizawa’s, thrusting against him, ankles tangled together behind the man’s back, pressing him closer, deeper.

“Not for anyone, just for-” Shinsou faltered as Aizawa looked up at him through dark, hungry eyes, still fucking him at a now punishing pace.

“I… Only want your cock, sensei,” Shinsou groaned, eyelashes clumped with gathered tears.

Aizawa growled and surged up to lick a hungry, dirty kiss into the boy’s open mouth. Shinsou clumsily kissed back, all teeth and spit and the hot slide of his sensei’s tongue against his.

“Fuck, baby,” Aizawa groaned, pulling back and licking his lips.

“You’re gonna make me come just like this.”

Shinsou surged with pride at the thought that his stoic sensei was so affected.

Shinsou felt heat building in his own stomach, something fluttering low in his belly that made him see stars when Aizawa’s cock dragged deep inside of him. It took a moment before he realized that his sensei’s hips were stuttering, fucking him at an irregular but insistent pace.

Shinsou jolted with panic at the reality of the situation: of Aizawa, his teacher, unloading into his virgin cunt with no protection whatsoever.

“N-no sensei, you can’t, not inside,” he squeaked, bringing his hands to Aizawa’s shoulders to try to push the man off of him. He released the hold of his legs around the man’s waist and scrambled against the desk, scooting his hips away.

Aizawa, however, was stronger than him, and tightened his arms around the boy, pulling him back onto his cock. Shinsou struggled against the hold, squirming under the man’s crushing grip.

“Sensei, please, you can’t!” tears slipped down his cheeks as he cried out. Aizawa held Shinsou under him with his full weight, the pressure on his chest causing the boy to feel dizzy.

Aizawa finally stilled his hips and slipped out of Shinsou’s cunt.

Shinsou froze and looked at his sensei with a mix of relief, frustration, anger, and fear, cold like ice in his veins. His cheeks were red and tracked with tears. Aizawa brought a hand up to wipe at the boy’s wet face.

He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Shinsou’s lips, which had hardened into a terse line.

“Crying so pretty for me, baby,” Aizawa chuckled.

Shinsou felt dread wash over him at the sight of his sensei’s eyes glowing red, hair floating around his head like a dark halo. He’d erased his quirk before he could even think to use it.

“I want to see you crying on my cock when I fill up your pretty little hole.”

Shinsou felt the words whispered hot against his face.

The hand placidly stroking his cheek came to close firmly around his mouth just before it occurred to him to yell for help. Tears spilled from his eyes as he watched Aizawa’s cold, serene face.

Shinsou whimpered, the sound muffled under the press of his sensei’s large, rough palm.

He was totally powerless under this man, this teacher who was supposed to be helping him, who groped him and fucked him and wanted to fill him up with his cum.

Aizawa’s hips rocked forward, fucking his cock up against Shinsou’s slick folds, sliding hot against the boy’s pussy.

Shinsou squeezed his eyes shut, feeling hopeless enough to surrender to the man’s touch.

“Mm-fuck yeah, baby, just like that. Crying so pretty for me,” Aizawa panted.

By this point he’d blinked already and his hair had lowered, hanging loose between him and Shinsou, knowing the boy wouldn’t try to use his quirk now.

Using his body weight to constrain Shinsou under him, Aizawa brought one hand down to guide his cock, pressing the slick blunt head into Shinsou’s ass.

“Such a perfect hole for me, fuck,” Aizawa muttered, panting as he bucked forward.

Shinsou let out a long muffled whine as Aizawa thrust into his hot, tight hole, stretched from his early ministrations but still this side of too tight. He picked up a brutal pace, grunting as he fucked into the boy, chasing his own release.

The hand at Shinsou’s mouth loosened, allowing Shinsou to gasp before thick fingers were stuffed past the boy’s lips, rocking deep into the wet cavity to match the rhythm of Aizawa’s hips fucking into him.

Aizawa’s hips stuttered and on a particularly deep thrust, Shinsou felt the cock in his ass twitch and spill, filling him up with his sensei’s hot wet release.

He whimpered around the fingers in his mouth as his sensei stilled, shaking, above him, before rocking his hips, shallowly fucking the cum deeper into him.

“Fuck, baby, so good for me,” Aizawa groaned, pulling out, the absence of his cock leaving behind an odd, empty sensation.

Shinsou let his head fall back on the desk with a thud, trembling all over, glazed eyes fixed on the ceiling.

He felt Aizawa press his legs back as far as they could go and held him there by one arm, Shinsou’s face framed by his own knees, leaving his pussy and asshole once again bared on the desk.

Shinsou felt probing fingers slipping in to stop the trickle of cum escaping from his hole.

“So perfect all filled up and dripping for me,” Aizawa murmured, stuffing the two fingers in to the last knuckle.

Shinsou grunted.

“The lesson’s over now, right sensei?” Shinsou asked, voice sounding small. “You don’t have to put anything else inside of me.”

He attempted a weak chuckle, as if any of this could be chalked up to a joke, or to part of some god damn hero training lesson.

Aizawa continued fucking into Shinsou with his fingers.

“Don’t be silly, Hitoshi,” he droned. “You haven’t come yet.”

(Sorry this is more nonconny than I planned but I promise they’re in love 🥺)

Thanks all for reading, probably taking a break from updating this for a while… Anyways, link to top 😇

https://twitter.com/broscarwilde/status/1468474740293701633