Day 17: Service play w/ Aizawa
https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works
(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)
Kinktober 2025 masterlist here!
Title: Assistance Needed
Summary: Fresh out of college, you’re looking for a job that pays well and utlizes your degree. You find an ad in the newspaper for a local teacher’s assistant position. When you get accepted for the job, it was nothing like you imagined.
Cw: service play/ slight high protocol, power imbalance, slight exhibitionism, impact play
A/N: This was heavily inspired by the movie Secretary, and if you squint you can see the few lines and scenes I didn’t use from the movie!
Word count: 5.2k
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It had been months since you graduated, your masters degree was practically collecting dust on the desk in your childhood bedroom. You lay on the bed, sprawled out with a newspaper in hand, searching through the pages for local job offers.
“Fast food… Fast food… Another fast food? Really?” You sigh, rolling to your back to gaze at the ceiling. Glow in the dark stars litter the ceiling above you, twinkling back in your imagination. The newspaper is thrown to the side as you sit up and lid the pint of ice cream you were weaning. You head to the kitchen to put it back, old wooden floorboards creaking under you with each step.
“Any luck?” Your mother asks as she sits on the couch in the living room.
“No,” you reply defeatedly, “I’ll keep looking though.”
“You’ll find a good one eventually.” She reassures. Sighing, you trot back up to your room and flip to the next page of the newspaper.
[Local: Teacher’s assistant at UA College.
Pay: $17 per hour. Mon-Fri 2pm-8pm.
Bachelor’s degree or higher required.]
This was it! You weren’t sure if you’d make a good teaching assistant but the pay was at the higher end and you had a degree suited for the job. You circle the ad in red pen and tuck the newspaper away in your bag. Excitedly, you jump off your bed and dance around the room, picking out a nice outfit to wear for tomorrow.
-------------------------------------------------
“I found a good offer, so I’m gunna go hand in my resume.” You say to your mom as you pass by the kitchen.
“You got this, honey! I believe in you!” She cheers, looking up from her book and coffee.
Heading out, you get in your car and drive downtown. The town looks so pretty during this time of year, when the leaves have just started falling off the trees and everything has a warm, orange tone to it. The cool breeze that accompanied today made you change at the last minute. Now, your outfit was a brown, knee-length pencil skirt matched with a white knit sweater and multi-colored scarf. Professional and casual enough for just handing in a resume, you thought. Your car rolls to a stop outside of the university's steps. It was a rather large building made of weathered brick with crumbling cement stairs leading up to the prestigious door. Stepping out of your car, you take the newspaper ad and your resume and begin your ascent.
“How many… damn stairs..” You huff once reaching the top, taking a minute to collect yourself. Every class must’ve gotten out at the same time, as a sudden wave of students burst through the doors, pushing past you and bumping shoulders as they hurriedly leave. Fighting your way against the crowd, you make it inside, scarf and hair a mess. You find the bathroom to pretty yourself back up before going to the front desk.
“Uh, h-hello.” You begin, looking at the lady sitting behind the glass. She pays you no mind.
“Hellooo?” you knock on the glass to get her attention.
“Yes?” Her brow is raised as she looks at you, unamused.
“I saw an ad in the paper about a TA position? For,” you hold up the now crumpled ad, “Professor Aizawa? Would you direct me to his room?”
The receptionist laughs at you, pointing down the hall, “last door on the right. Good luck.” She turns back to her file, writing just as she was before your interruption. Scoffing, you turn and head down the hall.
His door was cracked open, just enough to see a sliver of wall on the inside of the room. You knock, but hear no answer.
“Hello? I’m coming in!” you announce, opening the door the rest of the way. When you take a full step inside, you see a room filled with desks, with a large one at the back, or rather, front, with a green chalkboard behind it. You see who you presume is professor Aizawa sitting at said desk, head buried in a stack of papers.
“Hello?” You walk towards the desk, kitten heels tapping against the vinyl floors.
When the man finally looks up, you notice how tired his eyes are, the way his hair is unkept and strewn across his face, and the way his clothes barely fit him, being far too baggy for his shape.
“And you are?” His tired, red eyes look you up and down.
“Y/N, sir. I saw the ad in the paper for a teacher’s assistant? I brought my resume with me, if you’re still taking applicants.” Your hand stretches out to hand him the resume, something he does not take. Rather, he leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes. Your gulp could be heard from down the hall with how silent it was. Finally, his sigh broke the air,
“What makes you think you’re qualified for this position?”
“Well, I just graduated not long ago myself, so I’m still familiar with college life. I’m not sure what subject you teach, but-”
“Grade this paper for me.” He slides a messily- written paper across the desk.
“What?”
“Need I repeat myself, or do those ears of yours work?” He studies your face, watching as it contorts from confusion to offendedness. Setting down your own papers, you lean over the desk and look at the sheet. The questions are basic level ethics related questions, and this student’s got quite a few wrong. You look around the desk for a pen and find Aizawa’s hand outstretched, already holding one for you.
“Thank you.” you say, fingers brushing against his as you take it from him. You put small X’s beside the incorrect ones, littering the paper with them before sliding it back across the desk. Standing tall, you watch as he scans the paper over.
“Not half bad,” he says, “have you studied ethics?”
“Briefly. My degree is in communications.”
He rises from his seat, circling around his desk to stand beside you. He takes your resume and rips it without even reading it.
“H-Hey! What the hell?!”
“Come back tomorrow at noon. My class starts at two and we need time to prepare a lesson, so don’t be late.” He responds, ignoring the question entirely.
“So I got the job?”
He doesn’t reply and instead walks over to the windowsill that has a small bowl placed by the open window.
“Do me one small favor before you leave, would you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Go behind my desk and grab the small tin of cat food. Bring it here.”
Looking confused, you hesitantly walk behind his desk and see a small tin can tucked away in the corner that had seemingly fallen out of his bag. You bend over to grab it, but it’s too far back. You kneel on the ground awkwardly, given the fit of your skirt, and reach back to get the can.
Aizawa sharply inhales at the sight, his hand rubbing along his chin as he watches you struggle. He’s zoned out on the curve of your ass that’s on display, watching as your skirt tightens around it. You stand and straighten out your skirt before handing him the canned tuna.
“That’s all.” He sighs, popping the lid and scooping out the food into the bowl. You fix your bag that’s falling off your shoulder and begin to leave, when you hear a faint meow from his direction. Looking back, you see a white cat perched on the sill, thankfully eating up the food he laid out. A smile warms your face as you watch him pet the cat.
--------------------------------
The next day, you struggle to find something professional looking to wear. You settle on a light blue blouse with a black, flowy skirt, braiding your hair to ensure it stays out of your face.
The university was empty when you came in for twelve, so you quickly made your way back to Aizawwa’s room. The door was closed this time, so you knocked, but of course, no response.
The door creaks open and you poke your head in, “hello?”
“You were almost late. Come in.” He tells you, leaning back in his chair like yesterday. His eyes scan you again, this time he looks curious and almost a little nervous. He inhales shakily before standing and walking up behind you, a little too close for comfort.
“Go sit.”
“What?”
“Those ears of yours, are you sure they work?”
The nerve on this man. You roll your eyes and take his seat behind the desk. The surface is littered with papers, none of them stacked neatly.
“Sort those and then create today's lesson plan. You have about two hours.” He states before leaving the room.
“Wha…” You sigh, running your hands through your hair.
The task of sorting the papers nearly takes you an hour alone, nevermind coming up with a lesson plan on a subject you’ve barely studied.
---------------------------------------
Once Aizawa comes back, students are flooding in behind him. You stand, greeting him with an anxious smile.
“What should I-”
“Stand in the back of the class and watch. Afterwards, you’ll grade more papers.” His bluntness was getting tiring, and it was only your first day. As he begins the lesson, he keeps up a stoic yet rude tone with the class. Every question a student answers is wrong in some way, shape, or form, nothing pleasing the man. When some of the students look back at you, the mystery guest in the room, all you can do is shoot them reassuring smiles and shrugs.
“And what do you pursue the answer is, Ms. Y/N?”
“What?”
“The answer.” Aizawa points to the board.
“Oh, uh, code 3.02: Sexual Harassment, which states-”
He cuts you off, “maybe the question is too hard if my own assistant can’t even answer it,” he sighs. Your face turns red as several students shoot you that same apologetic smile and shrug. Your first day of being a teaching assistant wasn’t going well.
---------------------------------------
“Y/N, up here. Now.” The class was empty, students had filed out nearly five minutes ago, but the tension in the air was suffocating. You walk up to the front, heels filling the silent room with ambiance.
“Humiliating me in front of my whole class, who do you think you are?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I just thought since we were on that code section, that my answer would be correct.” Shame fills your lungs, burning with every word.
“Place both your hands on the desk, palms down, shoulder width apart.” He demands.
“I’m sorry?”
He doesn’t repeat himself, just simply stands with his arms crossed beside his desk. Hesitantly, you place both palms on the desk, bent over like a schoolgirl who sinned. He comes up behind you with a hand on the small of your back as he leans over, voice hot in your ear,
“If you ever embarrass me like that again, you will no longer have a job. Do you understand?”
“Y-Yes sir! Sorry sir!” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Aizawa’s body heat radiated off on you, his chest now pressed against your back as his hand slid down to your ass. You shift, trying to get up, but his other hand forces your back down.
“Lift up your skirt.”
“Sir, I’m not going to do that.”
“I’m not going to fuck you. I have standards. So lift it.”
His words stung like a hornet. Your eyes got teary as you hiked your skirt up past your ass, your panties on full display for the man. You can hear his breath hitch as he watches, observing the curve of your ass as his hand trails over it. A slap rings through the empty room, followed by a gasp from you. And then another, and another, and another.
“I’ll have to start over if you don’t start counting.”
“Uh, t-three! That was three..” You whine. Who is this man? What is this man? How does he think this is a fit punishment for- slap-
“Four!”
“How many do you think you deserve for humiliating me, hm?”
“I, I don’t know-ah! Five… I don’t know how many, sir.”
“Then I suppose we’ll have to keep going until that brain of yours can understand.” He sighs. His hand is red, along with the prints on your ass that will certainly bruise tomorrow if he keeps this up. Sure, it hurts, but heat was radiating in your core, as if your body was betraying you.
Aizawa slaps your ass until your tears drop on the desk below you.
“Sir, I’m so sorry sir, please forgive me, I really need this job!” You cry, hands white knuckling the desk for any form of grounding. With your words, his hand halts.
“Good girl. Now stand and get out. Come back tomorrow, same time.”
You stand and wipe your tears away. Your skirt falls down over your raw ass and the fabric makes it hurt even more, despite how soft it is.
“What about the papers you need graded?”
“It seems I gave you too many responsibilities to start. Prove to me you can do your job and maybe I’ll give you more tasks.”
“But, sir, that was the only task you gave me..”
“You really love making me waste my breath on words, don’t you?” He doesn’t even look at your face as he degrades you, simply pointing to the door with his head down. You sigh in defeat, and quickly leave.
-------------------------------------------------
The next day, you come in eager to please him. You really need this job, and your mind is set on pleasing your employer, doing everything right just so he can praise you for once. You spent hours studying the course load to make sure you were prepared for every question he might ask. But as class goes on, he doesn’t speak a word to you. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. It carved a hole in your heart; a hole that was begging to be filled by his acknowledgement, his voice directed at you, anything to make you know he wasn’t still mad. When class ended, you rushed up to his desk like a puppy waiting for a treat.
“The papers, sir?”
“He leans back in his chair and looks at you for the first time all day. Your heart skips a beat, a smile beaming across your face.
“Come sit.” He rolls his chair back and pats his lap. Given yesterday's events, this didn’t surprise you. You cross the threshold behind his desk and take a seat.
“Y/N, I need to know that I can rely on you.”
“What? Of course you can rely on me, sir! I really want to show that I can do this job!”
“I know. It’s just-” He pauses, leaning up so his chest is flush against you. You swore you heard him inhale when his face was near your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo, “there’s something about me that I, I don’t want to scare you off with…” He begins, “Given yesterday’s events you can tell I’m not the most normal of employers.”
He pauses, waiting for feedback.
“Uh, I mean, I embarrassed you, so you punished me. Is that… not okay..?” Your willingness to accept this as normal makes Aizawa’s heart feel funny. Every other assistant he’s had was out before the end of the first day. He never had someone stay this long, and now he was crossing into uncharted territory.
“So you’re okay with this? If this is your work life?”
“I wouldn't mind if it was all the time.” you flirt, a smile on your face as you turn to look at the man.
“Don’t say that,” his voice shakes, low and filled with a hint of delight, “we need to keep this professional.”
“I think it’s a little late for that, sir.”
“Take your top off and sit at the first desk.” He commands. You pull your shirt off while in his lap, leaving it on his desk as you stand and stride over to the student desk, taking a seat. He scans your body, taking in every inch of skin exposed. He’s biting his bottom lip so hard you think it might bleed as he grabs a stack of papers and places them in front of you.
“Grade these.”
“I need a pen, sir.” He pulls one out of his pocket and taps your cheek with it. You open your mouth and he places it horizontally for you to bite down. You do so, taking the pan in your mouth as if it were a gag before beginning to grade the papers. He watched over your shoulder for a while, not moving, and seemingly not even breathing as you worked. The few times you glanced back at him, you could see the bulge that was growing beside your face, making your attention falter. You ignore an answer that was incorrect, and Aizawa sighs.
“Stand.” His words snap you out of your focus, but you stand nonetheless.
“Hands on the desk.” You smirk, recalling yesterday’s events. You hike your skirt up without being told, which earns a small hum from the man. His hands find your hips as his groin presses into your ass.
“Um, sir?”
“Don’t speak.” His words are low and gravely, accompanied by the sound of his pant zipper. You had never had relations like this with your boss, surely he wasn’t going to actually fuck you during hours. You don’t dare look back as you hear his breath hitching. He’s moving ever so slightly, small, rugged movements shaking you as one hand remains on your hip. You tentatively look behind you and see him jerking himself off right above your ass.
“Look ahead,” he groans as he slides your panties down.
“Mr. Aizawa, sir!” You gasp, cool air hitting your cunt. He groans as he notices how wet you are. You want nothing more than for him to touch you, but he doesn’t. His fist gets faster as he spills over the edge, cum painting your ass and inner skirt. The hot liquid drips down to your lips, mixing with your wetness.
“Pull those panties up and go get me a coffee.” He sighs as he puts himself away and swiftly sits back at his desk. Your mind is fuzzy, filled with thoughts of him doing much worse to you. You do as he says, and rush to the university lobby.
Tapping on the glass, you grab the attention of the receptionist.
“Oh, you’re still here.” She says, amused.
"Where's the teachers lounge?”
“To your right.”
You run off, making your way to the lounge to quickly make him a coffee. He didn’t say how many creams or sugars, so you put enough to make the coffee light and sweet.
Placing the cup back down on his desk, you watch him take a sip.
“Less sugar next time.”
“Yes sir..” you say, subconsciously hoping for him to teach you another lesson for getting something else wrong, but he doesn’t.
“That’s all for today. Enjoy the weekend, as well.”
Your face drops. Right. Classes aren’t in session over the weekend. The joy of seeing his face tomorrow is ripped away, filled by an indescribable emptiness.
-----------------------------------
This wasn’t right. You couldn’t turn to him every time you needed that kind of attention. But how could you ever ask someone else to do that to you? It wasn’t something you asked for, it was something unspoken between two people, it needs to already be there. You groan in frustration as you lay in your bed, fingers between your legs as you recall the last few days. His rough hands coming down on your ass, leaving it red and bruised; the way he used your body like some cheap picture as he pleased himself behind you, leaving your panties sticky for the rest of the day with his cum- it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.
You huff, sitting up. Your own fingers weren’t enough. You needed someone like him to please you. The local bar had blind date nights every Friday, so you figure that’s your only option.
----------------------------------
There aren’t many men who look like him, and besides that, none of them have that edge. Every candidate is boring, ugly, or a mix between the two. For a quick fuck you suppose the decent looking guy wasn’t half bad. The two of you decide to leave the bar and find somewhere more secluded to have your fun. As you were leaving the building, you crossed paths. Aizawa was entering alone, as you were exiting with another man by your side. When you make eye contact, you can see a glint of disappointment. You halt in place, the man beside you doing the same.
“I think I forgot my purse, give me a minute, you can go on ahead.”
“Kay, I’ll be out here.”
You rush up to the bar where Aizawa is sitting, drink already in hand.
“H-Hello, sir..” You start. He raises an eyebrow as he looks toward you, taking a sip of his whiskey.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“And I wasn’t expecting my assistant to be sleeping around with anyone who says yes for a cheap fuck.”
You swallow, your face hot at his words.
“Well, I, I just wanted-” You stop yourself. You can’t tell him what you were really looking for, not when it’s now right in front of you, “Sorry, have a good night, sir.”
He grabs your wrist when you turn to leave. The noise of the bar is silenced, your mind is filled with just him.
“Did I say you were dismissed?” He gulps down his drink and orders another before handing you his keys, “Go sit in my car and wait for me. Don’t speak another word to that man.”
“Y-Yes of course, sir!” You reply, fumbling with his keys as you race out of the building. You click the alarm button to find his car. It was a nice sedan, black with tinted windows. The man you were first leaving with tried stopping you, but you don’t even look back as you get in the car. Through tinted windows he tries speaking to you, until Aizawa comes up behind him.
“My darling just wanted to rile me up tonight, she was never interested in you.” He lies in the man's ear.
“The fuck? Who are you, jackass?”
Aizawa looks the man up and down, not speaking a word. He taps on the passenger's side window, insinuating for you to get out. Stepping out of the car, you’re sandwiched between both men as you look back between the two. Aizawa grabs your chin and forces your gaze on himself.
“Tell this man he was a mistake.”
“What?”
“Need I repeat myself?”
“I, uh, y-you were a mistake.. Sorry..” You look down, feeling too guilty to say it to his face.
“She has standards far higher than anything you could achieve. And don’t act like a cheap whore just because your cunt is wet with need,” he turns to you as he says that last part. You nod, cheeks flushed as you watch the blind date walk away, huffing nonsense into the chilly night air.
“Get in the car.” He commands, and you do so without a second thought. Aizawa fixes his suit before getting in the driver's seat and taking you to his house, not another word spoken.
----------------------------------
As he guides you inside, your eyes are overwhelmed by how tidy his house is. Books litter the shelves along the walls, with plaques of degrees and awards. The furniture looks like high-end leather, colors coming together beautifully to match the paint on the walls.
“Take off your shoes and kneel in front of the couch.”
You take off your flats and do as you’re told, knees hitting the plush carpet. He sits on the couch in front of you, eyes passing over every speck of your body, analyzing you as you wait for a command. He places his leg out, dress shoes still on as he says,
“Grind.”
“Grind against your..”
As per usual, no response from the stoic man. Just a terrifyingly cold stare as he waits. Your skirt is so short you don’t need to hike it up as you steady yourself over his shoe and grind lightly. You grab his leg for stabilization as you hump the top of his shoe, pleasure growing with every pass. The laces give just the right amount of friction on your clothed clit, stimulating every nerve ending down there.
“Maybe I’ll use that cunt of yours if you prove how much of a needy slut you are.” You can’t even look him in the eyes as you grind, too ashamed by the act. He helps you, grabbing your chin between his forefinger and thumb, “Is this what you wanted? Your boss to watch as you fuck yourself on his shoe?” He nods your head for you, not giving you the freedom of responding yourself.
Your orgasm is building, but it’s not enough. You need to feel his cock inside of you like a dead plant needs water.
“Sir,” you whine, eyes glossy with lust as you look at him.
“Not enough?”
“I need more, please sir…”
He sighs, retracting his leg at your plea. He unzips his pants and pulls them down far enough so his cock could spring out. Beads of precum are leaking out of the head, waiting to be licked up.
“Be an obedient girl and suck my cock. Then you can get your reward.”
You pounce up, taking the base of him in your hand as your lips come down around his tip. You give kitten licks to it, lapping up the pre that leaks, tongue flat against the veins on the underside of his cock. He hisses, his fingers getting entangled in your hair. He can’t help but guide your head further down, setting the pace for you as your cheeks hallow to swallow more of him. Needy whines and moans leave your lips, sending vibrations straight to his core as his head sinks back on the couch.
“Just like that..” He moans, “good to know you can do something right, fuck..” His hand is pushing your head down faster, his patience growing thin as he feels closer to the edge. He doesn’t give you the satisfaction of tasting his cum, as he pulls your mouth off before guiding you to stand, fingers still in your hair like a leash. He brings you to his bedroom, hands all over you as he takes each article of clothing off slowly and teasingly. You whine with need, hands gripping his suit as he plays with your emotions.
“Well, go on.” He looks down to his body, “These clothes won’t remove themselves.”
Your hands falter as they remove his three piece suit button by button, sliding each bit of fabric off slowly and carefully, just as he did with your clothes. Once his top is finally off, you make quick work of removing his pants the rest of the way, boxers en suite. He snaps his fingers and points to the bed, a wordless command that leaves you dripping. He towers over you, the smell of his cologne overtaking all other senses. His hands explore your body, tracing every curve while his mouth leaves bites and hickeys along your neck and collarbones. You writhe with need, body twitching to every small touch.
“Sir, please… I need this so bad..”
“Another word without my say and you won’t be getting anything.” He threatens. His cock is throbbing and twitching against your cunt. He grinds against you, collecting your wetness as lube before lining himself up. When he entered, his girth stretched you so wide it hurt. He massages your hips as he pushes further, his other hand coming to your clit to leave small circles.
“Thank you, sir, thank you so much!” you cry, walls clamping down around him, scared if you don’t he might leave and end your pleasure right there.
“Relax- fuck- you’re so tight,” he mutters, hips bucking to bottom out. You grind against him a few times, hips lifting off the bed to get the angle that hits your g-pot just right. Chuckling, Aizawa rolls his hips, digging his cock right into that same spot, causing you to moan his name.
“I want to hear every sound that leaves those lips. No hiding yourself, understand?”
“Yes sir, ‘feels so good..” you moan, back arching off the bed as he continues thrusting into you. His hand comes around your throat, hard enough to make you dizzy, but not hurt. Your hands find his arm, holding him there like an anchor in your sea of pleasure. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper as he relentlessly thrusts into you.
“Who do you belong to?” He grunts in your ear, breath leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“You, I belong to you, Aizawa sir!”
“Good girl.. This cunt was made for me. Just me,” he says, tone as a command and plea, “tell me now; Tell me you’re willing to do this all the time, no breaks.”
“I want this, want you. Control me, sir, I’m here to please you.” You moan, words gruff as he allows you less air.
“I need someone who follows the rules..” he tells you, each word accentuated by his harsh thrusts.
“I’ll follow any rule you-hah- give me, sir. I’m your good girl!”
“Yeah? Are you gunna let me use this pretty pussy whenever I want?” His words are breathier, shakier, as he comes closer to the edge.
“Y-Yes sir, I belong to you.”
“Good girl, you learn your place quickly.” He smirks, hand releasing your throat as both take position on your hips again, forcing your body to come down on him, making the bed slam against the wall.
“Can I please cum, sir? Need it so bad..” you cry as tears fill your lashline.
“Let go for me, baby. Let me feel this pussy soak my cock.” he groans, his hips slamming to meet yours as he pushes you over the edge, him soon following. He stills as he spills his load inside of you, watching as he fucks it back out, the mess coating your thighs and the base of his dick.
“Good girl,” he pants, quieting your moans with a kiss, swallowing each one up as he groans into you. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, exploring and claiming every inch of skin as his.
“Now you stay here. Let me go get us something to clean up.” he says, softened dick leaving you clenching around air. Small sighs leave you as you feel sleep creeping up.
“Ah ah, not yet, darling. Let’s get a bath first, then bed.” You nod, a smile gracing your face. The expression on his is one filled with love and contentment. He’s been searching for someone like you for a while, and he couldn’t ask for anyone better.