I'm Adding Onto This To Make A Villains Edition

I'm adding onto this to make a Villains Edition™

Gentle Criminal: Can't Stop Showboating

La Brava: Can't Stop Hacking

Stain: Can't Stop Stabbing

Shiggy: Can't Stop fangirling over Aizawa Dusting

Kurogiri: Can't Stop babysitting Teleporting

Dabi: Can't Stop Burning

Toga: Can't Stop Stabbing Jr.

Compress: Can't Stop Performing

Spinner: Can't Stop collecting knives Spinning

Muscular: Can't Stop Growing

Dr. Garaki: Can't Stop Defiling best friends Corpses

AFO: Can't Stop Corrupting Children

If all heroes named themselves the way Aoyama did, we'd have:

- Aizawa: Can't Stop being hot Erasing

- Mic: Can't Stop Yelling

- Joke: Can't Stop Laughing

- Nezu: Can't Stop Thinking

- YaoMomo: Can't Stop Creating

- Izuku: Can't Stop breaking bones Believing

- Baku: Can't Stop being an idiot Exploding

- Iida: Can't Stop Running

- Denki: Can't Stop Buzzing

- Kiri: Can't Stop being wholesome Hardening

- Hawks: Can't Stop Flying

- Snipe: Can't Stop Shooting hey, it's the cops

- Mineta: Can't Stop Graping

Bonus, from one of my kids:

- All Might: Can't Stop SMASHING

This is so adorable and deep <3

A collection, for a well loved garf

A bonus picture for anyone who wants it

I like to think that one of the lessons Aizawa taught class A is "always have a knife".

You never know when you'll need a knife so never not be in possession of a knife. As such every member of class A has a knife hidden somewhere in their hero costumes. His gift to them when they graduated were custom engraved knives with their student number on them.

Not on board? Ok. Just imagine how funny it would be tho.

Villain: "Number one hero Deku! I am punch proof! The more you hit me the stronger I get! How will you defeat me now-"

Midoriya: "Knife."

Villain: "Wha-" *gets stabbed*

Midoriya: "Knife."

Hero: "Oh no! We're tied up! However will we escape!"

Tsuyu: "Knife."

Hero: "What?"

Tsuyu, pulling a knife off the bottom of her foot with her tongue: "Knife."

Groupie getting a hug: "Are you using your quirk or are you just happy to see me?"

Kirishima: "It's a knife."

Groupie: "...What?"

Kirishima: "Knife."

Villain, completely insulated in rubber: "You're a one trick pony chargebolt."

Kaminari, reaching down into his boot: "Oh boy are you wrong my dude!"

Hero: "You need to calm down."

Bakugou, reaching down into his V-neck: "Listen here you son of a BITCH-"

Hero: "WHY DO YOU HAVE A KNIFE!?"

Kouda: "Stop scaring the pigeons! They're a domesticated species that we abandoned back into the wild. They're sweet creatures who are pets by nature!"

Douchebag: "Or what?"

Kouda: "..."

Douchebag: "..."

Kouda: "..."

Douchebag: "oh my GOD HE HAS A KNIFE-"

S. Aizawa | Why was I angry...?

Brain came up with a thing after a very restless nap. If anything doesn't make sense, let me know. Art belongs to aleksnerd.art on instagram.

CW: female reader, vaginal penetration, unsafe sex, student/teacher For purposes, the reader is legal and on birth control (I have no idea how to add warnings, so good luck?)

MINORS: DO NOT INTERACT!

I've never really gotten along with my homeroom teacher, but I find myself trying to remember why as I grip the sides of the locker room bench, my body jolting with the impact of his hips into mine.

I'm currently the living definition of 'face down, ass up', and Aizawa's fingers are digging into my hips hard enough that I'm sure I'll have bruises tomorrow. Oh well.

A small part of me is afraid of what will happen if someone catches us like this. A very small part. The rest of me is desperate for him to continue, my pussy swallowing his length greedily with every delicious thrust.

We've already made quite the mess, a combination of my own juices and his cum running down my legs. It's also splattered all over the bench and the floor.

I let out a soft moan as he drives even deeper inside, stretching my walls and massaging my g-spot just right. You'd think it was his job, with how efficiently he does it.

I manage to peek back over my shoulder, and I find him watching me, seemingly reveling in my reactions to his movements. There's a twinkle in his eye that tells me he's not even close to finished.

I try to meet his thrusts with movements of my own, desperate to feel myself tip over the edge again. I know it won't be long until I have what I want, but I'm impatient.

My legs start to tremble as I approach yet another orgasm, and I know Aizawa can feel it coming because he smirks and lets out a prideful huff.

Just before I hit the edge, he slows down, giving a sinister chuckle as I instinctively whine and press myself against him. He leans down until his chest is pressed against my back, his breath tickling the shell of my ear.

"You're more agreeable when you're like this," he whispers in a low, husky voice. "Do you want more?"

I whine in answer, and he pulls almost all the way out, until just the tip of his dick is nestled inside. He growls into my ear, "If you want it, say it. Tell me how much you want it."

I huff softly, my thoughts still reeling. "Please, don't stop. I want it... It feels so good. Please." I beg for more, looking back at him, feeling his hot breath on the side of my face as I do.

"Good girl," Aizawa rumbles softly, leaning back up and giving my ass a playful slap before he starts fucking me again, harder this time.

I moan in a mixture of surprise and delight, my eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he gives me exactly what I wanted.

I feel the coil tightening in my stomach, and my legs start to tremble again, matching perfectly with the quivering of my walls around him.

As I get close, I feel his grip tighten and his breathing become shallow, making soft, desperate sounds as he feels his own orgasm creeping up.

I clench down around him as my release slams into me in waves, and I feel his dick twitch as he fills me to the brim with his hot cum.

This time, he slows down until he stops, and he reaches forward to caress my hair. "Are you alright," he asks, his voice surprisingly soft.

It takes me a moment to answer, my cheek almost glued to the bench with drool. "I... I think so," I answer, my own voice soft and hoarse.

My chest is still heaving from the intensity of my orgasm, and I am almost positive that if he wasn't still holding me up, my knees would give out.

"...We made quite a mess. Let me get you cleaned up," he says, still in that soft voice. He pulls out, pulling me gently into a standing position.

I lean back against his chest, his strong arms supporting most of my weight. We stay like that until my breathing goes back to normal and my legs stop trembling.

Without a word, he leads me over to the shower and turns on the water. After he checks the temperature, he gets in with me, helping me wash my hair and my back.

Normally, we're at each other's throats, but now it's almost like we're two different people. I still can't remember why we were arguing earlier, or how I ended up bent over the bench with his dick rearranging my insides.

I feel a bit awkward as we shower and clean up our mess from on and around the bench, but I'm afraid to break the silence.

I look over at him as he zips his hero suit back up, and he catches me looking. He smirks and reaches over to readjust my uniform, his touch lingering a bit.

Suddenly, he speaks up. "You still have to write the essay on the pros and cons of your quirk and your plans for your future as a hero," he says, his voice returning to its normal tone, as if nothing happened.

As he says it, I remember why we'd been arguing: I didn't want to do the same essay that I've done over and over before. I feel stupid for it, but also oddly... thankful? I nod, confirming that I will do the essay without further complaint.

He watches me stand in silence for a bit, and his eyes soften just a bit before he does another thing that's out of character: he pulls me in for a hug.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he whispers into my ear. "It was better than I'd imagined, (Y/n)."

I look up at him, processing at dial-up speed. I blush when it clicks. "Maybe... we could do it again sometime," I ask softly, feeling a bit hopeful.

"I thought you told me you couldn't read my mind," he whispers back with a playful smirk. I bury my face into his chest and he just holds me for a while.

By far, this is the best day I've ever had.

Am I wrong?

My perfect date/outing would be hiking out in the woods/mountains to where it's just us, the birds, and the bees, and the echo of my moans when he tethers his scarf to a tree limb as a swing and fucks me senseless