#aizawa bnha

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 HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL MAN! I wanted to make this a lot more epic.. but this is what came out of

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL MAN! I wanted to make this a lot more epic.. but this is what came out of it. 45 minutes before the end of his birthday here haha


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Thy shall not sin where thy feast

Hi guys ! This is my piece for the bnharem “on the job” may collab! Really had fun writing this fic, ties to another idea that I had, so tell me what you think about it

(Thanks to my beta and Dad L for the help ✨)

⭃ Aizawa Shouta x Reader

⭃ 4k

⭃ workplace AU

⭃ slight Dubcon/ Power play dynamics / fingering / dry humping / stocking kink somewhere /

⭃summary:

As the Department Senior Manager Aizawa was used with his coworkers asking for favors. You didn’t.

Just another day, just another problem he has to solve at the company.

It was Aizawa’s fourth cigarette in less than ten minutes.

Each time he brought it to his lips, he had to control the impulse of reaching into his back pocket for his phone, fingers itching and teeth grinding against each other in frustration, just another one of his bad habits.

He lets his arm fall back on the railing where he was slouching, resting on his elbows to relax but changes his mind not a second later when his phone vibrates. Again. He was seething.

He has twenty more minutes.

He will not pick it up.


The deep drag he takes finishes the cig in one go, the smoke barely staying in his lungs before being exhaled and quickly disappearing with the biting wind, his hair coiling and whipping around his neck and making strands get out of his half tied-up hair and on his face, making him even more irritated.

It was an ugly day.


It’s been raining all week with no signs of letting up, it rained all night again and the morning was cold, humid, and dark.

Aizawa could swear it was something with the rain. Every time the rainy season begins all staff starts to underperform to multiples degrees of —incompetence — that did not match their positions. from trainees to supervisors, all of them would one way or another drop the ball. fail to pay attention to a document, slip up on a deadline, or another rookie mistake.

As the department senior manager and with many years of experience, he was prepared for that, even when working at a branch and staff that was not his own, but today it was like everything decided to go and explode at the same time.

Corporate likes to give pep talks about how everything is connected inside the company. Everyone is an important cog in the big machine, and to that everyone needs to be at their best performance so everything could go smoothly. Well, for Aizawa that was indeed true, but with a different perspective.

One small mistake is easily unnoticeable. Two small mistakes are passable. Three small mistakes are fixable.

But a series of mistakes in the span of almost two months lead to a domino effect that now affected big clients, some of them in operations that interlaced with one another, the numbers not matching leading to errors that could cost much more than what they could cover — the damage big enough to affect multiple sectors.

Even Aizawa being a big name was still just one man. with his phone blasting all day and employees coming and going from his office, the entire floor was chaos, himself and others skipping breaks to try and solve this with the minimum amount of damage possible. And at least within the week.

However he was nothing if not a man who could make the best of every situation, including this one where he can see clearly the heads of department and managers were inept for their positions, not identifying the situation before it was too late leaving no other option besides him being the one to clean the mess.

With him in charge to pick the teams and managers for the new company branch, oh , this will definitely play a big role in his decision.


It was an ugly and stressful day and it wasn’t even past four yet.


Throwing the burnt butt at the small trash can by his side, Aizawa already has a new one secured between his teeth while looking for his lighter in the pockets of his jacket, letting out a frustrated grunt at not finding it. Another vibration from his pocket. Fucking hell.

He was able to control the situation enough with the managers to be able to take his first breather of the day, and his ground rule was to not bother him on his break, he needed this time to clear his head to come back and do his job right, and he knew they could manage without him for half an hour. he pats the pockets of his suit more firmly.

A curt noise that Aizawa thinks is a giggle covered by a cough interrupts his stressed spiral, making him look behind him to the wooden bench where you sit, stocking-clad legs crossed over one another and a hand holding a cigarette of your own covering your mouth.

Before he manages to take a deep breath to control his temper and give you a very curt inquiry about what was so funny, you give a quick glance to your side at the place where he was sitting previously on the bench. Where his lighter sat untouched.

Huh.


There’s mirth in your eyes as he grumpily grabs it.


Aizawa and your interactions have been something -distinct- to say the least.


Deflated from his composure for reasons he himself doesn’t understand, he sits back at the end of the bench and lights his new cigarette while making a point of staring at the other buildings right in front of him, the chill wind biting his hands.

“Working late again today huh?”

He doesn’t dignify you with a full answer nor look, eyebrow shooting up in a sarcastic arc while smoking slower now, slouching over with his elbows on knees.

“Huhm.”

“On the bright side, this time we’re getting company for a while.”

Now this time Aizawa lets an amused huff escape, your sarcastic tone with that perfect amount of classic curated office politeness that you both live and breathe daily and seemed to be fed up with.

“You don’t seem to care to socialize much.”

“Since it’s always just me there it would be nice to give the others a chance to juggle pots and plants around to impress you a little.

He glances back at you over his shoulder. From the corner of his eye he sees the satisfied little grin you try to hide taking another drag yourself, one arm still crossed at your middle and shoulders hunching close, your blazer and pencil skirt doing nothing against the cold.

Your eyes don’t leave his during this time. His eyes do fall to your lips once or twice.

There is something to say about this dynamic that both of you developed since he was sent to supervise this branch.

You were just one of the many people under him that at the moment see his presence there as a one-time chance to get some steps up in the promotion ladder quickly if fallen in his good graces.

So a veiled competition was issued between them to see who could do the best job, handle the biggest client, deliver the best projects, all of this between trying to earn his favor and tear each other down in the process. Of course.

But you didn’t.

As Aizawa climbed ranks and the years passed, he learned by seeing what happened with coworkers old and new and even with him, what situations it was in his best interests to avoid.

As much as there is the abuse of power, there is the exchange of favors, and he had no interest in losing something he gave years of his life to for batting eyelashes from someone who wanted to use him as a stepstool.

When he thought he found a nice little spot on the rooftop that no one seemed to come and he could get some peace and quiet the first weeks he begin working there, he was less than thrilled the day when he went up the two flight of stairs out of the last floor from the elevator that gave access to the rooftop and found you already comfortably sitting at what he thought was his spot, drinking coffee and finishing a cigarette.

He learned to avoid encounters with female coworkers in places like this, he knew there were no cameras up here nor at the stairs, and that was something that could guarantee the safety of both parties over there.

Apparently, he was too deeply caught in his fight or flight instinct to notice you already finished your smoke break, and as you passed by him at door, you only give a polite nod with a “Mister Aizawa,” and you make your way down through the emergency stairs to the elevator on the floor below.

The next time he encounters you there he chooses to stay.


It’s silent most of the time, and when you both talk it’s mostly amenities, as if you are not at work, and he is not a superior analyzing your performance with a fine comb every day.


Shouta likes the change of pace.


There were plenty your coworkers could assume was going on between you. He was in the game long enough to know how this works.


Shouta holds his smirk back at your daring jab. It was a dangerous move you did right there, both of you knowing the limits of what could be said between you, he your senior many times by years and position, and if it was anyone else he would chastise them with a verbal warning, his stare seems to remind you of that.


But it did the job of distracting him from the stress of the job, your gaze silently conveys, low eyelids slowly blinking like a cat at him, strands of your hair also falling out of your styled updo and messily flying around your face while you hold his stare.



You really did, but your distraction ends up being one completely different from what you had in mind.



He breaks away first and goes back to staring at the skyline, swallowing and taking another deep inhale from his cig, a warm feeling coiling on his guts that he tries to distract himself slightly bouncing his legs with the balls of his feet.



Well. This was not exactly a first, but it was definitely new for him to actually want to act on it.



Shouta was an active man, and even when he found one of his coworkers attractive, he behaved as always because at the end of the day, coworkers come and go but the job stays the same and this is what you have to prioritize.


His gaze goes to his hand holding the burning cigarette, and just beside it your high heels and black-clad legs.


It has to be the stress. He takes a deep breath.


You are moving around now, he’s too distracted to notice what you are doing. His throat dries when your legs seem to part slightly. And they kept going.


It’s when you grunt that he sits back and looks at you fully.


You finished your smoke and were trying to fix your hair with a hand mirror to probably go back to the floor. The strong wind had whipped some strands out of it, and the more you messed with it by taking out and putting pins back, the sloppier it got.

Certain unspoken decorum rules must be followed. You were not supposed to be as comfortable as this in front of him to just go and groom yourself in front of him like this as if they are intimate. Is this one of those generational differences?

His gaze drops to the slope of your neck as you try and fail to tame and hold your hair down against the current, breasts are hugged by your tucked white blouse with your movements, and keep going to your hips where your skirt hikes up showing more of your thighs with you moving around. Those skirts sure are tricky.


You have to know what you are doing, Aizawa nervously thinks while messing with his cuffs. There’s no way you don’t realize what you’re doing.


Is this An opening?


You are professional to the core and from what he sees demure in behavior, but you still meet him in the middle in your casual chats, not lowering your head as his underling in your politeness and still having a playful streak around him. He uses your distraction with the mirror to admire how your smart attire hugs your waist, his phone vibrates again, but this time he barely notices.


To be so naive around a superior alone where anything could happen. He twitches inside his pants. You were lucky it was him there with you.


Aizawa’s reverie of your nylon-covered thighs is interrupted by your frustrated voice, although he quickly recovers pretending to look at the skyline just behind you, lost in thoughts. “Hng, I can’t- I have to fix this in the bathroom. I’m going down, you coming?”


You are already up and putting your things away inside your small purse before you finish speaking, and you pause briefly to look at him, hair in a similar messy state, burnt butt at hand, and a look in his dark eyes you couldn’t pin down.


Shouta doesn’t think too much about his reply with you looking down at him at his side, messy hair and messy clothes, and slightly hugging your middle because of the still harsh cold.



“Yeah, sure.”



As he calmly follows you back thru the rooftop exit, each step he takes is a step closer back to the chaos at the office, all the phone calls, reunions, and emails he would have to send for damage control at who knows what time today. And tomorrow. And if he was lucky, next week.



Both of you have a lot of work to do.



However, his eyes were fixated in the sway of your hips in front of him, the whistling wind loud enough to cover the sound of your heels. In a casual barely-there movement you give him a glance over your shoulder and go back at looking ahead of you.



Did you notice him staring?



As Aizawa reaches first and opens the metal door, you give a little nod as you pass by him, the same “Mister Aizawa,” as always. Professional. Nothing between the lines.



How long has it been for him?



He remembers a conversation he had a long time ago. At the time he just got promoted as a supervisor, and one of his superiors that took a liking to him treated him to drinks as a celebration.


“Lemme tell you something Aizawa, Shouta right?” The burly blond said, already well into his beers, “You are a very good-looking young man right? Haha! No need to be bashful! I do see the stares of our dear girls working with us every day, it happens!”


As the metal door closes behind him, the creeping cold is cut abruptly, the warmth from the building heaters reaching even the fire escape stairs, both of you exchange glances as you relax not realizing you were tense from the chill.


Two flights of stairs to the elevator.


“I too get some myself, but since you are showing more promise with each new project you get, I will share the sound advice that my mentor shared with me and brought me where I am today, and surely will take you very far in your path!”

He lets you take the front as always, and with one hand at the railing and the other holding your purse you make your way down the stairs with him a little far behind you, your steps echoing loudly.


“Since we are just two men drinking, no need for formalities right?”


The high yellow lights are weak compared to outside, but still, it throws your shadows far into the walls, looking down where he’s stepping is just instinct, and his gaze is just drawn to the sway of your hips that are right in front of him again, this time much more accentuated while going down.


He was about to chastise himself in his head.


You look over your shoulder at him midstep-you had to have caught him staring this time- and as you take another one, you give him a small smile, without breaking eye contact.


“Always keep this in mind: Don’t fuck where you eat Shouta. Don’t mess around where you win your bread.”


One flight of stairs to go.


Don’t fuck where you eat.


Well shit.


With three big steps, he reaches you easily at the stair landing, and before you could make your way to the second flight he grabs you by your wrist.

Halting in your steps, you turn around in confusion, looking up you are about to ask what’s wrong before he pulls you towards him at the same time he closes the distance, you are unable to make any noise as he bends down to kiss you with a vengeance.

You try to get him away, small hands pushing his chest to try and slip from his grasp but Shouta was quicker, getting a firmer hold on you with an arm encompassing all your back and a hand grasping your face firmly by your jaw.

He licks your lips trying to pry his way in, and again when he fails. Shouta is as headstrong as they come, and he finally gets his way when his big hand suddenly squeezes your rear through your skirt making you yelp.

He huffs in amusement as he tugs your bottom lip with his teeth. There was just something so different in kissing you, feeling you up, making you squeal. Aizawa didn’t know if it was finally falling into the taboo, or it was something with you. He growls low in his chest as he gropes you again and you whimper against his mouth.

You are not fighting now, just clinging to his jacket -as if he would let you fall - so he uses this moment to move you around, walking with you without stopping his exploration of your mouth until your back hits the corner of the walls at the landing.

his arms hold you as he crowds you with his body, and he pulls away, the kiss breaking sloppy and wet

with a heavy inhale as he takes your state in.

Your eyes are wide and teary, he’s hunched over you with an arm above your head against the wall, pinning your body with his own. swollen lips from his kisses and bites an alluring picture that only made him want to abuse them more.

You look scared, but not exactly. uncertain and afraid, but not really.

He brings his hand to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek softly, neither breaking eye contact.

You keep your eyes on his while still panting. His drops to your lips once or twice as he rubbed his hard-on against your hip.

Aizawai’s free hand drags slowly up the length of your thigh, long fingers groping the flesh, sliding fingertips over your stockings like a map, and when they find the hem of your already dangerous ricked-up skirt.

he gives you a moment to acquaint yourself with the tip of his fingers slowly exploring the spam of your thighs until they reach their soft insides, you tremble as his cold fingers slowly caress their way up.

“G-give-“

Aizawa narrows his eyes, gaze that had fallen to tour shivering legs now back at your face. his fingers stop going up, but they linger in place, staying right between your legs.

“Give a girl a heads up next time… a-almost scared me to death.”


He fucking knew it.


Shouta bunches up your skirt at your waist, all reluctance now out of the window with your confirmation in the open.

His fingers curl into the top hem around your waist and tug the stretchy material of your stockings down, peeling the black fabric off you until they were bundled at your knees.

Your head falls back at the first contact of his fingers to your clad pussy, the material wet and tacky. He squishes his fingers up against your puffy lips through the fabric, making you moan cutely.

“Does that feel good?” He murmurs against your ear, deep voice barely there but still making you jump and shiver all over, you nod your head panting with need.

Your hips thrust slightly by themselves at each pass of his fingers against your soaked panties, the material clinging to the swollen folds letting his digits give the good friction your little clit ached for.

Aizawa thrusts his cock against your hip in time with his fingers at your core, and his other palm cups your tits over your clothes, going from one to the other groping and squeezing your breasts.

He can’t hold his smirk when he feels your trembling hands bumping against his, undoing the buttons of your blouse.

He admires your pretty lacy bra for two seconds, the way they push your breasts up, before roughly yanking them down, his other hand still at your cunt giving your clit a mean pinch.

Your moan is loud, and Aizawa cuts it by kissing you hard and now you welcome his advances, he stroked your clit harder as you sloppily sucked his tongue.

You spread your legs as wide as you can when he bunches your panties to the side, he trails kisses down to your neck, when he reaches the base of it he gives a little nip.

his fingers are slow on you, spreading your swollen lips apart and your slick all around, His lips brush your ear.


“Yeah that’s it, spread ‘em”


He teases at first, drags his knuckles one by one slowly against your slick clit, so puffy and sensitive from all of the previous friction.

fingers squeeze and grope your breasts with gusto, feeling their bulge between his fingers, the squelching noise loud between your pants through the slick gathered between your pussy. Your breasts bounce so enticingly that Aizawa cannot resist, bending down and suck the budding nipples with his lips.

under his wet sucks at your nipples and his hand following after the rolls of your hips to keep flicking at your clit.

You gasp and arch, rolling your hips when his wet fingers push back down over your folds.

A wet sound follows the rub of his fingers over your clit and through your drooling cunt. You arch up, hips bouncing back against his fingers.

leaning down to messily lap his tongue around your hard nipple you gasp, mouth falling open at the sudden stimulation, he dragging his teeth across your breast.

your drooling, spread cunt finally finishes with a wet squelch, You gush wet and juicy against his palm, your little swollen clit hot all over.

“Gonna come with just me playing with your clit?” His fingers slip down your drenched pussy and prodding your leaking hole teasingly, the point of his fingers could easily slip inside, “What about here huh? don’t you wanna me to finger you good?”

You mewl again and pull his face to you, burying your hands in his dark hair and dragging your nails over his scalp as you ride your high.


————————



“Hm?”


Shouta takes some seconds to get his bearings. The cold helps.


You are standing at his side, puzzled stare in your eyes as you look down at him, messy hair and messy clothes and slightly hugging your middle because of the still harsh gusts of wind.


“I said I was going down, need to fix my hair in the bathroom,” the puzzlement now changes to slight worry, “Are you coming too?”


He blinks a couple of times, did he doze off? In the middle of a conversation no less?


He takes a second to process his surroundings and what you said. And two. And three.


He replies at thirteen.


“Actually, I’m going to stay a little longer. You can go ahead.”


You nod politely and give him a little smile,” Ok, see you around at the night shift, Mister Aizawa.” He nods back not really looking at you, only when sometime after he hears the heavy bang of the metal door is when he lets himself relax.

He slumps against the bench throwing his head back, eyes wide.


That. Was something


Your moans, the wet sounds from between your legs, the way your hips moved.


He takes a deep breath, fingers itching for a smoke, and leaves a deep sigh when he touches his hard cock resting over his thigh inside his underwear when reaching in his pocket for his pack.


He drops his head with a grunt, what is he doing?


“I’m too old for this shit.”

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