Do you think you could write an Aizawa x fem reader who is a new teacher and her quirk is having cat like qualities like night vision, sharper nails, quiet walking, excellent balance etc. and she also has cat ears and a tail?
(If she can have an âorange catâ personality as well that would be wonderful. If not I understand and Iâm sorry,Iâm not sure if I did this correctly Iâm still trying to figure out how to word things correctly)
A/N: Hi Lovely! No problem at all, I hope you like it!! I wasn't sure if you wanted it in a romantic context or not but it did end up going that way, if you don't like that though let me know and I can make changes :)
The Stray That Stole His Heart
Shota Aizawa had always been a man of patience.
A man of routine, discipline, and quiet solitude.
So naturally, when Nezu had announced a new hire at U.A., he had assumed nothing would change.
But then you arrived.
And Aizawa quickly realized that nothing would ever be the same again.
The first time Aizawa met you, it was during the faculty meeting, and he immediately knew two things:
You had cat ears and a tail, which made an impression on everyone in the room.
You were completely unpredictable.
It wasnât just your quirkâwhich, admittedly, was impressive. Enhanced agility, night vision, sharp reflexes, and an uncanny ability to move so quietly that even heâsomeone who had trained himself to be hyper-awareâcould barely hear you coming.
No, it was your personality that truly caught him off guard.
You were chaotic, to say the least.
Unfiltered, playful, mischievousâwith a penchant for getting into trouble just for the fun of it.
An orange cat in human form.
And it drove him insane.
But what was worse?
It also fascinated him.
From the very first week, you had made it your personal mission to test his limits.
You frequently showed up late to meetings, claiming you got âdistracted by something shiny.â
You napped in the most inconvenient placesâon top of file cabinets, across the teachersâ lounge couch, even once on top of Aizawaâs desk (which had earned you the deadliest glare of his life).
You stole his coffee. Regularly.
You pounced onto his shoulders from above, just to âsee if his reaction time was as fast as everyone said.â
(It was. But he still nearly had a heart attack that day.)
And yetâ
Despite your absolute disregard for personal space and normal social conventions, you were a damn good teacher.
Your students adored you, your battle tactics were sharp and effective, and you had a natural talent for handling even the most rowdy kids (cough Bakugo cough).
And somehowâdespite all your anticsâAizawa found himself growing used to your presence.
To the way your ears twitched when you were listening intently.
To the way your tail flicked when you were irritated.
To the way you always tried to get a reaction out of him, even when he refused to give you the satisfaction.
And then, one dayâ
He realized he had a problem.
Because he liked it.
It was late one evening, long after most of the staff had gone home.
Aizawa had been grading papers, exhaustion creeping into his bones, when he heard the softest footfalls outside his office.
No one else would have noticed them.
But Aizawa knew exactly who it was before you even poked your head inside.
âStill working?â you mused, stepping in without an invitation, tail swaying lazily behind you.
Aizawa sighed. âObviously.â
You hummed, moving closer, perching yourself on the edge of his deskâa habit he had long given up trying to correct.
âYou know,â you mused, eyes glinting in the dim light, âyouâre always telling me I should take my job more seriously. But when was the last time you actually took a break?â
Aizawa didnât respond.
Because the answer was too damn long ago.
Your lips curled slightly, as if you could read his thoughts.
Thenâbefore he could reactâyou reached out, plucked his red pen from his hand, and tossed it across the room.
Aizawa stared at you.
ââŠDid you justââ
âYep.â
ââŠWhy?â
âBecause youâre done for the night.â
His eye twitched. âI still have work to do.â
âNope.â You grinned, tail flicking playfully. âWork is done. I have officially declared it.â
Aizawa exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.
âI donât have time for your games, Y/N.â
But you werenât backing down.
Instead, you tilted your head, ears twitching slightly, and for the first time since you had met, your voice was softer.
âI mean it, Shota,â you murmured. âYou do too much. Just⊠take a break. Just this once.â
Prompt: Our hero is famous... but he doesn't want to be. She's the only one who sees past the mask.
The world adored him. Red Riot, the unbreakable hero, the unyielding shield of the people. His name was spoken with admiration, his face plastered across magazine covers, and his victories replayed on news channels daily. To everyone else, he was an inspirationâfearless, indomitable, and shining like a beacon of hope.
But to you?
He was just Eijirou.
And he looked exhausted.
You stood in the back corner of the bustling hero agency, watching as Kirishima smiled and waved at reporters, his signature sharp-toothed grin never wavering. He was answering questions about his latest battle, a takedown of a villainous group threatening civilians in Shibuya. They called him a "symbol of resilience," the hero who never backed down.
But you saw the stiffness in his shoulders. The way his hands clenched behind his back. The way his eyes, bright and determined for the cameras, dimmed the moment he thought no one was looking.
You exhaled, rolling your shoulders as you observed the scene. Your own hero nameâTempestâwasn't nearly as famous, though your quirk was nothing to scoff at. Stormweaver, a powerful wind manipulation ability that allowed you to control air currents, pressure, and even summon small bursts of lightning in high-energy states. It made you fast, unpredictable, and a nightmare in aerial combat.
But fame wasnât your thing.
Unlike Kirishima, you werenât a headline hero. You worked best in the shadows, handling recon, quick interventions, and crowd evacuations. People appreciated you, but they didnât worship you.
And you were fine with that.
Kirishima, though? He had no choice.
The press conference finally ended, and he turned, heading toward the agencyâs private wing. The second he crossed the threshold away from the public eye, his shoulders slumped, and the weight of the world crashed down on him.
âLong day?â you asked, arms crossed as he passed you in the hallway.
He jumped slightly before chuckling, rubbing the back of his neck. âYeah⊠but, yâknow, just another day in the life of a hero.â
âBullshit,â you said flatly.
His crimson eyes widened slightly before he laughed again, this time more tired than amused. âYouâre always so blunt, Tempest.â
You shrugged. âI just donât like fake smiles.â
He tilted his head, studying you with quiet curiosity. âYouâre the only one who calls me out on it.â
You leaned against the wall, watching him carefully. âBecause I know you, Eijirou. You donât like this, do you? The attention, the expectations.â
He hesitated.
For a moment, he looked like he wanted to deny it, to flash another grin and insist he was fine. But something in your gaze held him in place.
Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his messy red hair. âI wanted to be a hero to help people. To make them feel safe. I never wanted⊠all of this.â He gestured vaguely toward the closed doors behind him, where reporters had just been shouting his name. âI mean, I get it. It comes with the job. But sometimes⊠I feel like Iâm just playing a role instead of being myself.â
You nodded, your own expression softening. âThen stop pretending.â
His eyes flickered to yours, uncertain.
âYouâre strong, Eijirou. Not just because of your quirk or your title, but because of who you are. People admire you, yeah, but you donât have to be their unshakable hero 24/7. Youâre allowed to be tired. Youâre allowed to feel overwhelmed.â
He looked down, gripping his hands into fists. âBut if I stop, even for a second⊠what if I let people down?â
You stepped closer, your voice quieter now. âThen let me hold you up.â
His breath hitched, and for the first time, the unbreakable hero looked like he was on the verge of cracking.
You werenât sure what compelled you to do it, but you reached out, taking his hand in yours. He stared at the contact, almost as if he couldnât believe it. His hands were warm, calloused, steady⊠but they trembled slightly under your touch.
âYouâre not alone, Eijirou,â you said softly. âYou never were.â
And for the first time that day, he smiledâgenuine, quiet, and meant only for you.
---
Kirishima didnât let go of your hand right away.
For a long moment, he just stood there, his fingers curled slightly around yours, as if grounding himself in the reality of your words. Then, with a deep exhale, he finally released you, rubbing the back of his neck in that sheepish way he always did when he was unsure of himself.
âThanks, (Y/N),â he muttered, eyes flickering to yours before glancing away. âI⊠donât really know what to say.â
âYou donât have to say anything,â you replied. âJust⊠be honest with yourself for once.â
He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. âEasier said than done.â
You understood that. More than he probably realized.
The two of you had worked together for years now, first as classmates in U.A., then as pro heroes navigating the chaotic world of villain takedowns and public expectations. But unlike him, you never embraced the spotlight. You operated in the background, handling missions that didnât come with flashing cameras and screaming fans.
And yet, despite your differences, you and Kirishima had always been close. You had each otherâs backs on the battlefield, sureâbut this? This felt different. Deeper.
A sudden knock on the nearby office door made both of you straighten.
âRed Riot?â a voice called. It was one of the agency assistants. âThereâs another interview request. They want to do a feature on your hero origins. The director asked if youâd be available toââ
âTell them Iâm busy,â Kirishima interrupted, surprising both you and the assistant. His voice wasnât harsh, but it was firm.
The assistant blinked. âOh. Uh⊠sure thing.â
As the door shut, you turned to him with a raised brow. âLook at you, setting boundaries.â
Kirishima sighed. âI dunno. Maybe you got in my head.â
âGood,â you said with a small smirk. âItâs about time.â
He chuckled, but there was still tension in his shoulders. You could tell he wasnât used to saying no. After all, his entire identity revolved around being there for othersâprotecting them, saving them, never letting them down. But heroes werenât indestructible.
You glanced at him, debating whether to push further. Then, before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed his wrist.
âCâmon.â
Kirishima blinked. âHuh? Where are weââ
âYou need a break,â you said simply, dragging him down the hallway. âAnd I know exactly where to go.â
---
Fifteen minutes later, the two of you were sitting on the rooftop of the agency, legs dangling over the edge. The city stretched out below, lights flickering like fireflies against the early evening sky. Up here, away from the noise and expectations, the world felt quieter. Smaller.
Kirishima let out a slow breath, leaning back on his palms. âMan⊠I forgot how nice it is up here.â
You smirked. âThatâs because you never take the time to slow down.â
He glanced at you. âAnd you do?â
You shrugged. âSometimes. Helps clear my head.â
For a while, neither of you spoke. The wind brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of rain from the distant storm clouds. You could feel the shift in air pressureâa subtle tingle from your Stormweaver quirk telling you that a storm was coming.
Kirishima must have noticed the way you inhaled deeply, sensing the shift. âYou okay?â
âYeah,â you murmured. âJust⊠thinking.â
âAbout?â
You hesitated before answering. âHeroes. Expectations. How people think weâre invincible.â You turned to look at him. âHow you think you have to be invincible.â
Kirishima frowned slightly but didnât deny it. Instead, he ran a hand through his red hair, exhaling through his nose. âI know I canât be unbreakable all the time,â he admitted. âBut itâs hard, yâknow? People rely on me. They trust me to be strong.â
You nudged his shoulder. âBeing strong doesnât mean never breaking. It means knowing when to let someone help you pick up the pieces.â
His eyes met yours, something unreadable flickering in the crimson depths. âYou really believe that?â
âI do,â you said firmly.
Silence settled between you again, but this time, it was more comfortable. Less heavy.
Then, after a long pause, Kirishima smiledânot the wide, toothy grin he always gave to the public, but something softer. More real.
âThanks, (Y/N),â he said quietly.
You leaned back on your palms, gazing at the horizon. âAnytime, Red.â
And for the first time in a long while, Kirishima allowed himself to just be.
---
The sky darkened, painted in hues of deep blue and violet as night settled over the city. The distant rumble of thunder rolled through the clouds, a subtle reminder of the coming storm. Up on the rooftop, away from flashing cameras and screaming fans, Kirishima finally let himself breathe.
You sat beside him, the gentle hum of the wind filling the silence between you. Unlike most people, you didnât expect him to fill every quiet moment with conversation. You didnât push him to be something he wasnât.
Maybe that was why he always found himself gravitating toward you.
He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his messy red hair. âYou ever feel like⊠people only see what they want to see?â
You turned to him, brow raising slightly. âAll the time.â
Kirishima huffed a quiet laugh. âYeah, I guess you would.â
You werenât flashy like some of the other pro heroes. You didnât chase fame or crave validation. You did your jobâStormweaver was as reliable as the changing winds, fast and unpredictable, always one step ahead of disaster. People appreciated you, but they didnât put you on a pedestal the way they did him.
And maybe that was why you understood him better than anyone.
Kirishima leaned back, bracing his arms behind him. âI donât hate being a hero. I love helping people. I love making them feel safe. But sometimes⊠I wonder if they only like me because of the idea of me, yâknow?â
âThe unbreakable hero,â you murmured.
He nodded, jaw tightening. âYeah. What if I wasnât unbreakable? What if I cracked? Would they still believe in me?â
You shifted, moving so you were facing him fully. âEijirou,â you said, voice steady. âYouâre more than just your quirk. More than your reputation. And if people canât see that, then thatâs their problem.â
He looked at you then, really looked at you. There was something raw in his gaze, something fragile beneath the hardened exterior. You had seen it beforeâbrief moments where the mask slipped, where the weight of his own expectations nearly crushed him.
But this time, he didnât try to hide it.
âI donât want to be a symbol,â he admitted. âI just want to be me.â
You reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. His skin was warm beneath your fingertips, his muscles tense like he was waiting for somethingâpermission, reassurance, maybe even acceptance.
---
The first raindrop landed on your cheek.
It was cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of Kirishimaâs skin beneath your fingertips. His crimson eyes flickered to the darkening sky, watching as storm clouds thickened above the city. The wind picked up, shifting unpredictablyâan extension of your own unease.
You could feel it coming.
A storm, yes, but something else, too. Something heavier.
Kirishima hadnât moved away from your touch. If anything, he seemed to lean into it, his tension easing slightly beneath your grip. His confession still hung in the air between you, fragile yet unshakable.
"I donât want to be a symbol. I just want to be me."
You squeezed his arm gently. âThen be you, Eijirou. The world can wait.â
He exhaled slowly, letting his head tilt back as the rain started to fall in earnest. Droplets clung to his red hair, sliding down his jaw. âI donât even know what that means anymore,â he admitted.
You frowned slightly. âYouâre not just Red Riot. Youâre not just âthe unbreakable hero.â Youâre the guy who stays late after missions to make sure everyone else gets home safe. The guy who buys extra snacks because you know Bakugou wonât eat unless someone makes him. The guy who memorizes every internâs name so they feel like they belong.â
Kirishima blinked, caught off guard. âYou⊠noticed all that?â
âOf course I did.â Your voice softened. âBecause I see you, Eijirou. The real you.â
For a moment, he didnât say anything. His expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then, before you could react, he reached up, his hand cupping the side of your face.
The warmth of his palm sent a jolt through you, like the first crack of lightning splitting the sky.
âYou always do that,â he murmured.
âDo what?â you asked, voice quieter now.
âSee past the mask.â
The words sent a shiver down your spine, though you werenât sure if it was from the cold rain or the way he was looking at youâlike you were something solid, something grounding, something he didnât have to pretend around.
The rain fell harder now, soaking through your hero uniforms, drenching your hair, but neither of you moved. You werenât sure if you wanted to.
Then, just as Kirishima opened his mouth to say something else, your earpiece crackled to life.
âTempest, Red Riot, we have an emergency downtown. Multiple hostages. High-powered villain. Report in immediately.â
The moment between you shattered like glass.
Kirishima pulled back, his expression shiftingânot hidden, but focused. He was still him, still raw and uncertain, but this was what he did best.
You pushed your damp hair out of your face, standing up. âLetâs go.â
He hesitated for half a second before nodding, rising to his feet beside you.
Whatever had just passed between you would have to wait.
The storm had brokenâand the world still needed its heroes.
---
The city was chaos by the time you arrived.
Neon lights reflected off the slick pavement, distorted by the rain. Civilians had been evacuated to the edges of the streets, their panicked whispers blending with the wail of sirens. The hostage situation was centered in a high-rise bank, shattered glass littering the ground outside.
You and Kirishima landed in sync, the rush of wind from your quirk kicking up debris as you scanned the scene.
âTempest, Red Riot, we have three hostiles inside,â the lead officer briefed you quickly. âTheyâve got a quirk-enhanced barricade, and we believe at least two of them have combat abilities. The hostages are being held on the upper floors.â
Kirishima cracked his knuckles, his expression sharp. âGot it. Weâll handle it.â
You nodded, raising a hand to the sky. The storm above rumbled in response, the air shifting as you pulled at the wind, gathering pressure in your palms.
A deep voice from inside the building called out before you could make a move.
âWell, well. Look who showed up.â
A figure stepped into view through the broken windows. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and covered in jagged, crystalline armor that pulsed with an eerie red light. You recognized him instantlyâBreakneck, a high-tier villain with a strength-enhancing quirk that made his body as hard as diamond.
He grinned, his eyes locking onto Kirishima. âRed Riot. Been looking forward to this.â
Kirishima tensed beside you, his jaw clenching. âYou know me?â
âEveryone knows you,â Breakneck sneered. âThe unbreakable hero, right? Letâs put that to the test.â
Without warning, he lunged.
Kirishima barely had time to harden his body before Breakneckâs fist collided with his torso. The impact sent a shockwave through the street, cracking the pavement beneath Kirishimaâs feet as he slid backward.
You reacted instantly, launching a powerful gust of wind to break the momentum, sending Breakneck stumbling. Raising your arms, you called the storm to you, lightning crackling in your fingertips.
âIâll handle the hostages,â you told Kirishima. âYou keep him busy.â
He nodded, shaking off the hit. âBe careful.â
You didnât waste time respondingâwithin seconds, you shot upward, weaving through shattered windows as you raced toward the upper floors.
The hostages were bound near the back of the room, their eyes wide with fear. Two more villains guarded them, one with a quirk that generated explosive pulses and another with enhanced reflexes. They turned the second you landed.
âYou guys are really making this difficult,â you muttered. Then, with a flick of your wrist, the air pressure in the room dropped.
The sudden vacuum knocked both villains off balance as they gasped for breath. You surged forward, wind twisting around your form, striking with a precise kick that sent the first one flying into the wall. The second tried to counter, but you were faster, weaving through their attacks like a current slipping through cracks.
With a powerful gust, you slammed them both to the ground.
âStay down,â you ordered, voice sharp.
You turned to the hostages, using the edge of a sharp air current to slice through their restraints. âGet out of here. Now.â
They nodded frantically, scrambling toward the exit. You ensured they were clear before rushing back downâonly to find Kirishima locked in a brutal fight.
Breakneck was strong. Too strong.
Even with his quirk, Kirishima was struggling, his hardened body cracking under the force of the villainâs relentless attacks. But he wasnât giving up. He never did.
You clenched your fists. He doesnât always have to do this alone.
Summoning every ounce of your power, you reached for the storm. Thunder roared in response, lightning dancing between the clouds before you redirected itâchanneling the energy straight into your fist.
Then, like a lightning strike breaking through stone, you struck.
The impact hit Breakneck square in the chest, sending an electric current surging through his body. He spasmed, his crystalline armor flickering with unstable energy before shattering on impact.
Kirishima didnât hesitate. With a final, devastating punch, he sent Breakneck crashing into the pavement, unconscious.
Silence.
Then, as the rain continued to pour, Kirishima turned to youâsoaked, breathing hard, but smiling.
âYou really saved my ass back there.â
You smirked, the storm still humming in your veins. âTold you. Youâre not unbreakable, Eijirou. You donât have to be.â
Something flickered in his gazeâsomething softer than battle, stronger than words.
Maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to believe it.
---
The rain had slowed by the time the fight ended.
The moment Breakneck hit the ground, the tension in the air dissolved. The villain lay unconscious, his shattered armor glinting under the city lights. Sirens wailed in the distance, signaling the arrival of backup. The civilians were safe. The job was done.
But Kirishima wasnât moving.
You turned to him, breath still uneven, feeling the residual crackle of lightning in your veins. âEijirou,â you called softly.
He was staring at his hands.
Knuckles bruised. Faint cracks running along his hardened skin. Evidence of the battle. Evidence that, no matter how much he told himself otherwise, he wasnât unbreakable.
âI was losing,â he murmured, voice barely audible over the rain.
You stepped closer. âBut you didnât.â
He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. âBecause you were here. Because you saved me.â
You frowned. âAnd whatâs wrong with that?â
His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. âHeroes are supposed to be strong. People look up to us. They trust us to protect them, to be unshakable. And if I canât evenââ
âStop.â
Your voice was sharp, cutting through the storm in his head. He looked at you, startled.
You met his gaze, firm and unwavering. âYou keep saying âheroes are supposed to be strong.â âHeroes are supposed to be unshakable.â But Eijirouâheroes are just people.â
He inhaled sharply, as if the words physically struck him.
You softened slightly, stepping even closer. âPeople donât follow you because youâre unbreakable,â you continued. âThey follow you because you donât give up. Because you care. Because you fight even when it hurts. Thatâs what makes you strong. Not your quirk. You.â
For a long moment, he just stared at you, red eyes searching yours.
Then, slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased. He let out a breathâdeep, steadying. Something in him seemed to shift, as if the weight he had been carrying for so long had finally begun to lift.
âYou always do that,â he murmured, echoing the words he had spoken on the rooftop.
You tilted your head. âDo what?â
âSee me.â
The rain had slowed to a drizzle now, the storm passing, but the world around you felt impossibly still. His gaze softened, his lips parting slightly as if there was more he wanted to say.
You felt your heart skip.
Then, with a small, quiet smile, Kirishima reached outâhesitant at first, then surerâhis fingers brushing against yours.
Warm. Solid. Real.
Maybe he wasnât unbreakable.
But standing here, beside you, he didnât have to be.
He doesnât mind that you canât control your quirk, honestly it makes it both easier and harder for him to keep you home with him
On one hand, you canât purposely fuck shit up and get out even without his using own quirk
On the other hand, you might accidentally fuck shit up without meaning too
Depends on how his obsessionâs quirk activates
Like if itâs an emotional thing or more you have to think about doing it
Heâd most likely just turn/unplug all the electrical things before he leaves the house, being he canât snap off your quirk if heâs not in the room with you
You wonât have anything electrical or any kind of technology if heâs not in the room or house (radius depends on his mood)
May try and use your quirk as a reason to be close to you, if heâs cuddling you in a death grip against his chest then thereâs no opportunity for anything funny happening
As time consuming as it is to watch over you like this and be constantly shutting off electricity when he has to leave quickly, itâs more dangerous for you to know how to use your quirk, especially in the first few months to a year when you still donât quite understand
Maybe once youâve learned your home is with him heâll teach you/help you learn but for now anything more than learning to suppress it is unlikely
He probably has a much higher chance of gaining access to a quirk collar due to his status as pro-hero and U.A. Teacher
Punishments include being drugged and either shoved into a room stock filled with electronics all going off
Or getting fucked with phones and other things in the room that you could easily use to get out but as long as heâs staring at you like that you arenât doing anything more than getting creampied
Or maybe heâll show you how the people you loved are moving on so easily, not caring if youâre there or not and telling you how much he cares about you, exactly how he feels and how heâd feel if you left him whispers directly into the curve of your ear