Aizawa X Black!reader - Tumblr Posts

Patchwork Quilt of Clouds

Comfort piece with one of my favorite comfort characters. Let me know if you guys want more Aizawa, might branch out to Hawks too. Just tell me what yall want to read

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x Black!fem!OC. All my OC's have names that can be read as nicknames

Rating: PG, this is literal fluff and comfort

Warning: None.

Shouta found Cutie in their bed, with a literal mountain of pillows surrounding her. Pillows from their bed, the sofa, the guest room and pillows he’s never seen before, all fighting to say on their platform bed until some tethered on the edge. White, black, floral, funky designs and tacky sequined styled pillows painted a sight harsh on his eyes. And in the middle, a big black puff of wild kinky hair peeked out the sea of fabrics. Slowly Shouta put his scarf down on their dresser, then his goggles. With his boots by the door, next to hers, taking off his hero costume was a quick process.

During his disrobing, the erasure hero couldn't help but smirk to himself. Beside the bed, everything was cleaned; even the rug had vacuum tracks. She must have gotten fed up with his mess. Contrary to what students probably thought his home wasn't a dark cave with two pieces of furniture. Shouta was a thirty-year-old man. Of course, he had a coffee table and lamps, along with all the usual furnishings that would be found in adult housing. But despite his age and love for logic, he was a mess everywhere but his job. Before Cutie, he was shamelessly living like a raccoon. Logic be damned, working 2 jobs was tiring and cleaning wasn't a priority.

Coming out of his thoughts, he realized Cutie moved slightly to peer out at him to watch him dress down to his boxer briefs. Brown eyes filled with mirth met his before ducking down to hide in the sea of cotton. “What happened?”

“Oh thank heavens, a hero! Eraserhead, I've been attacked by a villain that attracts pillows. Save me.” Sometimes, she was almost as childish as his brats at school.

“Oh no, it appears I've also been attacked, but my villain makes their victims dangerously sleepy. Must. rest. Now.” His body collapsing into to fluffy void caused a couple of pillows to fall, but still, an obscene amount stayed put. Cutie watched from her spot as her boyfriend feigned fatal exhaustion. Her dark lips pulled into a large grin at how adorable Shouta looked surrounded by pillows, hair strewn in every direction. Playing with Shouta was like playing with a cat. Actually, her entire relationship with him could be compared to dating a cat. And she loved it.

“Thinking about me as a cat again? Really?”

“How-” a stem of catnip appeared right in front of Cutie, the bulb just starting to blossom with small flowers. Pale fingers held the piece haphazardly but behind the hand, a satisfied yet sleepy smile graced Shouta’s face.

“You can be predictable, Cutie.”

“All the time?”

“No, sometimes you're as unpredictable as a toddler. Ow, that really hurt,” his monotone voice lifted at the end when she tapped him on the forehead. Her hit caused a few more pillows to lose their balance and fall. “Exhibit A: the pillow mountain. I think I rest my case.”

“Really? Let the record show the jury looks unconvinced.”

“Objection, speculation.” Guffaws erupting from her short frame was her response. Eventually, it was quiet. Cutie felt the bed shift as her eyes closed. The weight of her partner pressed her body into the now hill of pillows. Then a cold nose nuzzled into her covered cleavage. After work and a shower, all the woman was wearing were sporty shorts and Shouta's sweatshirt.

“Sho!”

“You're warm. You can’t compare me to a cat and not expect me to do cat things.”

“But Sho-”

“Shh, just go to sleep.”

An hour before he had patrol, the hero rose from his position on his girlfriend. The pillow pillars that were there when he closed his eyes were still standing strong. Shouta released a deep sigh before getting up. Garbled words sounded from Cutie’s mouth, probably protest to him moving and taking his body heat away.

Ignoring that, Shouta went to the bathroom. Coming out he found his personal body pillow yawning and knocking down a few more pillows with her stretches. Now the floor around the bed looked like a patchwork quilt of clouds. Brown limbs popped out the remaining mess, freshly stretched, until her full figure emerged on the edge of the bed.

“This was so much easier in my head,” Cutie mumbled. Her hair wasn't that different than before, but Shouta knows she’ll be moaning over not covering it later. As he redressed, she finally tumbled out and walked out of the room. When his goggles settle under his scarf the nighttime hero exited their bedroom.

“I made soba.” a groan escaped his throat. “Just eat a little.”Before Shouta could groan again, brown eyes but quickly to glare at him, daring him to make a hint of protest. “You are not eating a jelly pack when I cooked and slaved over this hot stove to cook for my darling hero boyfriend. Sho I-”

Words kept spewing out her mouth but the black-haired male tuned her out. It would be easier to just consume a pack before his patrol, but his girlfriend was highly against more than two energy jellies a day. Cutie even said when she first moved to Japan the snacks were a complete shock to her. She believed jelly is not a substitution for a meal and her grandmother would ‘have her hide’ if she ate like he did. And thus, one of her first acts as his significant other was ensuring ‘proper nutrition.

“And I don't mean to nag but I just want you to be in the best shape possible to keep the streets safe and kick evil’s ass.”

“Okay, just a little.”

“You weren't even listening to me were you?”

“Nope. but I know somewhere in that speech you said something about caring, so… thanks.”

Cutie did nothing but flare her nose at this. While Shouta noticed, he felt it was best to make the bowls and not say anything. The kitchen was cozy, with only three chairs around the square table, all located in the nook by a window. After saying thanks, both of them began slurping down noddles, Cutie more than Shouta.

“You eat like a toddler.”

“You eat like a woman on a diet.”

“Hmm.” It was quiet after that. He finished before her, but before he could get up and leave, his darling girlfriend grasped his hand. Entwining their fingers, Cutie rose a single brow. Shouta squinted at his wristwatch before sighing and accepting he would be stuck here until the last possible minute.

“So needy.” Sometimes it was best to not acknowledge that fact about Cutie, like when she was already feeling guilty about constantly wanting his attention. But today, and on other days like this, when she had a smile brighter than the sun she could take that statement in stride.

“For you, my beloved, always.”

“Gross.” his expression didn’t match what he voiced, but he had an image to maintain. Not even Cutie can know how weak he is for mushy words. When she finished her food and put down her chopsticks, Cutie wasted no time grabbing his other hand.

“Shou….”

“Hgn...”

“Stay safe and kick ass.”A mischievous small smile danced briefly on his face. He squeezed her hand tight enough for her to curse before releasing them.

“Cutie..”

“Yes?”

“Clean those pillows up.”

dry wells

summary: being dependable is hard when you have no one to fall back on. you learn that the hard way. aizawa is there to remind you that all you have to do is ask. 

word count: 3.0 k

pairing(s): aizawa shouta x reader

genre | includes: stress, comfort, sfw, gender neutral reader, poc friendly reader, one (1) swear word, brief self-deprecation

author’s note: this is my first work on here and it is purely self indulgent. i hope anyone who feels the same way gets some form of comfort and reassurance from this ! please let me know what you think ! also please ignore me mentioning in the heights in absolutely everything i do. i can’t help it lol

Shouta values functional relationships. Quality over quantity, as cliché as it is, is the bread and butter of his social interactions. His brunch meetups and nights on the town are few and far between, but, contrary to common belief, he enjoys them very much. He doesn’t spend extra time around people he dislikes, so if he’s doing anything, he does it with company he enjoys. It’s as simple as that. The amount of people that belong in his circle are small, and the number has been waning gradually over the years. Without question, his closest companions are Hizashi and Nemuri. As fed up as he acts with them, he leaves every moment with them feeling lighter.

Except for when they’re working. He’d never get used to their faculty room antics no matter how hard he tried. And they weren’t the only problem. There's just something about the fluorescent lighting in the school building that drains every ounce of energy from him. Factor all that in with less than 4 hours of sleep and problem children at every corner? Coffee never stood a chance. (That doesn’t mean he’ll stop trying.)

Yes, it was exhausting, but Shouta likes to think he’s got it all under control. At least he knows what to expect. By now, it’s routine; Nemuri gossips about student drama (“Kobayashi Mariko from one of the second year support classes cheated on their girlfriend with a business department third year”), Hizashi reacts at a volume louder than necessary (“You’re kidding. The poor girl must be crushed”), everyone hears and begins to chime in (“I thought they already broke up, I saw her with Kato Misaki from general studies at the mall last weekend” “Well, that doesn’t mean anything. People go to the mall with their friends all the time” “But they kissed” “Tell me you’re joking”), Shouta sighs a deep, aching sigh in preparation for the headache that's about to kick in, and less than a minute later, right on schedule, a low chuckle comes from beside him as you set down a cup of coffee and greet him with a cheeky, “good morning, sunshine”.

Living the life of a hero, constantly stepping out into the world unsure if he’d return, Shouta has come to be appreciative of the slight pleasures in his life. One of those pleasures is you. He couldn’t always afford the luxury of routine, yet there you always were. You were just enough joy to last the day. Gentle when the time calls for it; brutally honest when need be. Comfortable in your skin, you expressed yourself in the way you knew others would understand while being unapologetically yourself. When Shouta started working at UA, he’d shadowed you for a semester, learning your tips and tricks for nurturing the new generation of heroes. Despite graduating the year after him, you’d established an aura of authority and dependability that not even he could ignore. Long after he’d done the same, you still offered your services and assistance in whatever way you could. How you managed to take on other people’s workloads he’d never know, he just knew he was grateful for you. 

You were a different kind of teasing than Nemuri, a tamer happy than Hizashi. You were reliable in every sense and unwavering in your identity. Students flocked to you for advice as you undulated naturally between teacher and older sibling. You could easily take command of a room and just as quickly get everyone laughing. You stomped out defiance and made tiktok references in the same breath. Your presence brought relief; if you were here, everything would be figured out. Everyone just knew no matter what it is, (y/n)’s got it under control. 

So when you shuffled into the faculty room half an hour late, eyes puffy and bloodshot, your usual confidence nowhere in sight, Shouta did a double take. The other teachers were preoccupied with this week’s “tea” (he’d heard Ashido use the term alongside other colloquial phrases he was far too removed to understand) and had yet to notice you. Judging by how you’d flinched at a louder than necessary gasp, it was a good thing. 

What was normally a purposeful strut to the coffee station was now an aimless lumber. You changed course several times as if you’d forgotten the configuration of the room. Your arms were unsure as they unfolded and reached for the pot. From where he sat, Shouta could see your hands shake while pouring your coffee. They hovered over the countertop awkwardly as usual routine became foreign to your distracted mind. You clumsily spilled sugar and whimpered as creamer splashed over the rim of the cup. Your arm knocked over the nearly empty container of stirrers as you reached for napkins and it seemed to be the final straw. Blinking rapidly at the ceiling and taking shaky breaths did nothing to stop the silent tears from burning trails down your cheeks. You sniffled once, twice, and rubbed frantically at your eyes. Shouta wasn’t one for comfort, but leaving you to break down in a high school teacher’s lounge over a cup of coffee at 7:30 am didn’t sit quite right with him. As he stood to confront you (confront sounded violent and all too certain for what he was about to do. What exactly he was about to do, he had no clue), you let out a choked sob and escaped to the door, leaving the coffee and stirrers in disarray on the countertop. 

“What’s wrong with (y/n)?” someone asked, as you pushed past Vlad and made a mad dash to somewhere beyond the lounge’s field of vision. Shouta was too preoccupied with packing his files and following you to check who said it. 

Sometimes Shouta forgets that you’re also a stealth hero, but moments like this remind him (he says “moments like this” like this happens often. He wouldn’t be chasing after you if this wasn’t out of the ordinary- if he wasn’t concerned). You were fast and, by God, were you hard to find. It didn’t help that classes started in less than half an hour and the early-bird students had started wandering campus. At least this proved you were more than capable as a hero; even in your distress, you could blend into a crowd with ease. 

He chased your trail until you hit a quiet stairwell and collapsed into a heap of sorrow under the railing. Now that you were within reach, Shouta realized he honestly didn’t know what to do. Operating at night and dwelling in the shadows for the majority of his career, Shouta had broken up trafficking rings, rescued victims of abuse, and toppled organized crime circuits, but comforting his colleague was way above his pay grade. But there was very little about this profession that involved staying in one’s comfort zone. It was as he’d overheard All Might tell Problem Child #1 (they weren’t slick; neither of them could whisper very well, let alone keep secrets), a hero’s body moves before they think. So here he was, body in a forgotten stairwell, mind still in the teacher’s lounge 3 floors and a 5 minute cardio workout away.

He didn’t know how many times he had to say it, but you’d been nothing but dependable. He’d never once had to worry about you. If he thought back far enough, your few encounters with him as UA students served memories of the same. You came just after Hizashi and Nemuri on the list of people he could tolerate, but higher than them at the same time. He wasn’t sure why. 

You always called a cab for him after faculty bar crawls, regardless of whether or not he was sober. You were the first face he saw after the USJ incident at the beginning of the year. You’d often come to his apartment (now his room in the dorms) to keep him company while you both graded papers. Late into an evening of exasperated comments and mood-lightening jokes, you, without fail, would snatch away his stacks of papers and force him to sleep. By the time he woke up, they were graded and organized by student and subject. 

He… liked having you around. Not just because you did things to help him, it was more than that, Shouta just had no idea what else it was. Maybe it was that way that before he entered the cabs you called for him, you always demanded he text you to let you know he was home. It may be hidden in how you would grab his arm when he waved off your worry, and you’d look into the depths of his soul with searching eyes. “I’m serious, Shouta. Promise me,” and he would, because he could never lie to you. 

Maybe the answer lies within the time you told everyone to get rest as you stayed to listen to the nurses explain how to change his bandages when the Nomu left him bedbound. How, like clockwork, you’d knock on his front door, push him onto his couch, and ignore his protests to change the bandages he had been neglecting for school assignments and patrol. Had it been Hizashi, he wouldn’t have made it past the door. Don’t get him wrong, Hizashi is still Shouta’s closest friend, but neither of them would have lasted the period of time it took to properly unwrap, discard, disinfect, apply, and rewrap. It was probably because he knew you’d make it easier that Shouta let you stay. That was definitely it. And it was because he was comfortable around you that he gave you the second spare key to his room. That’s also why he let you detangle his hair while he slept and you finished grading papers under his kotatsu. You made him comfortable and he was grateful, that’s all. Had he ever done anything to pay you back? He was too young for his memory to fail him, so the answer was probably no.

That changed today.

Your shoulders shook more violently as time passed and it made Shouta realize how long he’d been lost in thoughts about you and that he was yet to actually help you. Trance now broken, he took a seat next to your trembling form and inhaled deeply before speaking. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?” stupid stupid stupid stupid why was that the first thing to come out of your mouth what the fuck they’re gonna say no and never speak to you agai-

You looked up abruptly, startling Shouta the slightest bit. You looked… awful. He wasn’t going to sugar coat it. Dried tears left tracks down your cheeks and fresh, hot ones made new trails right through them. Your eyes were hesitant- glossy and unfocused, lips etched in a wobbly frown. Your nose was running and your brows were pinched. Maybe this was more than Shouta signed up for. Before he could back away or call Nemuri or Hizashi for help, you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his torso. When your wet face buried into his shoulder, Shouta sighed once again. When he asked if he could touch you he really only expected to put a consoling hand on your shoulder. Nevertheless, he wrapped his arms around your frame as you shook.

You both sat like that for a short while. No words were exchanged. Just you clinging to the fabric of his clothes and him holding you in place. You counted the dull thudding of your heartbeat. Somewhere in the back of your mind you acknowledged that it was beating in time with Shouta’s. At the calming realization that you weren’t alone, your hiccups slowed and reduced to occasional sniffles. That was good. You began to pull away, wiping at your face. That was not good. Shouta’s mind came to a record scratching halt. Why exactly was it not good? Sure he enjoyed having you in his arms but- no. He was going to stop there. This was much too dangerous a thought path to be going down. He was only here to comfort you. Let’s get back to that. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shouta looked down at you, still somewhat curled into yourself. Curled into him.

You then sighed and straightened, “I don’t know what there is to talk about. I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s all just too much, I can’t catch a break,” your voice wobbled again for a moment and Shouta was afraid you’d cry again. You swallowed thickly before continuing.

“There’s too much going on and no time to address any of it. Things keep getting piled onto my plate, but I can’t sacrifice the rest of what has to be done. Crime is skyrocketing, we’re switching curriculums, I just got assigned to the Shie Hassaikai case, and my family is in town. On top of that, Hound Dog doesn’t have enough space in his schedule to accommodate the influx of students seeking help, so I’m the temporary counselor. I’m applying for grad school right now and once I start there’s no end in sight,” as you made yourself vulnerable in front of someone for the first time, your voice increased in pitch.

“Everyone is suffering and I feel like I’m the only one who can fix everything, but I can’t. And it frustrates me so much because I always fix everything, so there has to be something wrong with me if I can’t do it now. I’m tired, but I can’t be. I’m drowning but I have to make sure everyone else gets to shore first. I’m scared of letting everyone down.” There. It was all out. Your dirty laundry was out in the open. The words that hung heavy in the air brought clarity as they washed over Shouta like the eye drops you once had to force him to use. He watched in understanding as you sagged against the steps behind you.

Of course you felt like you couldn’t catch a break. You were doing everything for everyone all the time. Everyone could depend on you but who could you depend on? Shouta cursed himself internally for not picking up the signs earlier. He prides himself on his perceptiveness, but he couldn’t see that one of his closest companions was working themselves to the bone. He was doing a terrible job. But there would be time to berate himself later, you were his priority right now.

“There’s only so much one person can give. A well has no use when it’s run dry. It doesn’t make sense for you to do everything in the name of pleasing others. You’re entitled to being selfish. You can say no. Nobody will fault you for it. You are a good person regardless of whether or not you help whenever the opportunity arises. You’ve done more than enough to last several lifetimes. Everyone cannot rely on you all the time. You cannot shoulder everyone’s burdens. Don’t forget that you can ask for help too,” that was more than Shouta had said at once in at least a week. How special were you?

“Does that mean I’m allowed to rely on you?” you peeked at him from the corner of your eyes, trying to conceal… something. Was it hope? Relief? Admiration? Whatever it was, it made Shouta nervous. He looked away.

“Of course. We’re... coworkers. And you’ve always been helpful, it would be remiss of me not to return the favor,” his words left a soft smile on your face. He hadn’t done much, just told you what you needed to hear. You’d need time to internalize it, but you were already feeling more grounded. And this coworkers thing...

“Just coworkers? You don’t sound so sure,” you teased as the tell-tale glow of red eyes and floating hair from Shouta’s quirk accompanied a light dusting of red on the apples of his cheeks. 

He stood quickly, brushing the dirt from the stairs off of his pants, “Class starts in 10 minutes, you should get cleaned up.”

You chuckled (that was good) and stood beside him. Without a second thought, you grabbed his arm and began to walk in the direction of the faculty room. You didn’t teach during the first period of the day, but he still needed his folders.

“I will. I just wanted to escort my coworker to his classroom first,” you reply cheekily. The pep returned to your step and your heart felt lighter. The only evidence that you had been anything other than happy was the redness of your eyes and the wet splotches in Shouta’s shirt. It felt good to have someone to rely on so you let yourself indulge in the feeling a little longer. You leaned into him as you conversed about everything from lesson plans to the menu Lunch Rush posted for the day.

“That musical you like, In The Heights, they made it into a movie right?” Shouta blurted before he could stop himself. Stupid stupid stupid stupid-

“Yes, they did. Why?” you knew why. You could hardly conceal your smile.

“Would you like to see it this weekend? With me, I mean. We could get coffee after. You deserve the break. Or we could just grade papers because-”

“Because we’re just coworkers right?” you cut him off with a sly smirk as you came to a stop in front of the teacher’s lounge’s doors, “I’d love to. We’ll talk details later, yeah? Class starts in 2 minutes.”

“Okay,”

“Okay,” there was that hesitation in your eyes again. Before Shouta got the chance to analyze what it could have meant, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek and turned on your heels. You were going to talk to Nezu about taking a break.

He couldn’t keep the small smile off his face if he tried.

— —

“-And I heard from Rokuda from 3-C who heard from Kobayashi from 3-E who was walking with Takane from 2-D that (y/n) kissed Aizawa in the hallways yesterday.”

“I heard it was a little more than that, I’m talking janitor’s closet” “No” “Don’t shoot the messenger. That’s what I heard from Tsukino from 2-B” “Oh my God”

As you slid the door open, Shouta in tow, you cocked a brow at the quick hushes and suspicious eye-contact from everyone in the room.

“Did I miss something?”

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