#injured aizawa shouta

[sunflxwer-writes]

is it just me or is the world falling apart?

Warnings:  hospitals, mentions of violence and injury, mild descriptions of panic and dissociation

Summary: “Hitoshi,” Hizashi breathed, too quiet to have truly been heard by anyone. He was so relieved to see his kid awake—to see him alive—that he almost collapsed into a heap of grateful sobs. Almost.

~

Shinsou and Aizawa get injured on patrol and Yamada, naturally, panics and rushes to see his family.

Word Count: 2,202

Read it here

[shoutaaizawaonlyfans]

"I got careless on patrol, Aizawa-San. Can you help me?"

Artist: Loxori

[xothatnerdykid]

guilty as sin

You're a dedicated nurse who loves their job even when it means taking care of stubborn, battle-worn pro-heroes (or maybe especially then). Aizawa Shouta x gn!reader. Set between S6 & S7. Fluff, slight angst with comfort. SFW, 2k words.

The sterile scent of antiseptic fills the air as you walk down the pristine white hallways of Central Hospital. The raid against the Paranormal Liberation Front had left the medical facility overcrowded, understaffed, and bustling with activity. You yourself had been working tirelessly for the last 24 hours straight to care for the numerous injured heroes and civilians. 

Exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, your feet dragging slightly with each step. Your shift was supposed to have ended hours ago, and you were more than ready to clock out and get some much-needed rest. However, there was just one patient left to see.

You knock at the door. 

"Good morning," you greet the man lying down on the bed. You don't have the strength to muster a smile, but that's okay. He doesn't seem to either. 

Instead, he gives you a familiar nod. "Good morning."

He was a brooding, reserved man of a few words. With dark hair and even darker eyes - well, eye, the other being wrapped in bandages - he looked more tired than you some days. You can't fault him for that though. You knew he had been at the front lines of the battle that day and had paid a heavy price for it. 

He sits up as you come closer, approaching his bedside. The room is quiet, save for the soft beeping of the machines monitoring his vitals.

"How are you feeling today?"

He shrugs. "I've been better. I've been worse."

"I can see that," you nod, noting the way his complexion is less pale and his hair less unruly today compared to the past week. You open the blinds for him, warm light streaming into the dim room. “More sunlight ought to be good for you.”

“Mhm,” is all he says, blinking up at the bright, blue sky out the window. 

You take that as your cue to go about your usual tasks silently, adjusting his IV, checking his bandages, writing down his vitals. 

Then, out of the blue, he says, “You’ve been working long hours lately. You should get some rest.” 

"Believe me, I will. Just as soon as you're taken care of first."

"I'm fine,” he responds in a clipped, dismissive tone of voice.

“Fine or not, it's my job to make sure you’re comfortable and healing properly. You went through a lot, losing an eye and a leg. Frankly, I’m not sure we should go through with discharging you tomorrow.”

He heaves a tired sigh, “Like I said, I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse, too.” 

Frowning, you sit down on the bedside chair and take a moment to look at him. Despite his stoic facade, you can see the toll all those years of being a hero have taken on him, especially the past few weeks. The dark circles under his remaining eye, the weary lines and scars etched into his face. The worried, pained look that lingers even when he's trying to relax. 

"You know, it's okay to admit that you're not feeling great. From what I've been told, it seems like you've been through hell and back."

He shrugs again, leaning back against the pillows with a wince that he tries to hide. "It comes with the job. If anyone deserves your concern, it's my students."

“It must be hard, seeing them fight in a war. They’re just children, after all.”

He nods grimly, his mouth a tight line. "And because of this—" he touches the bandages covering his eye "—my quirk is pretty much useless now, especially on the villains we’re up against.”

He doesn't say it, but you can hear it in the tightness of his voice, his clenched jaw, his hands fisting the bedsheet. You know what he really means: “I'm useless now."

You want to reach out to touch him, maybe place your hand atop his, but you're not sure if he'd welcome such a gesture, especially from someone he's only known for a short time. You settle for a few sympathetic words instead, folding your hands in your lap. 

"Aizawa-san, do you honestly think your quirk is the only thing that makes you a hero? You've done so much for your students, for so many people. You're a mentor and a role model to these kids. I'm sure they trust and look up to you more because of this, not less.”

He looks at you for a long moment, that same unreadable expression on his face.

"I appreciate that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t protect them the way I used to."

"Maybe not, but even without your quirk, you have your experience, your wisdom, and a heart that cares deeply for them. That's more than enough."

Instead of responding, he stares silently up at the ceiling. You don't push him, resigning to let the moment simply stretch out. After all, this is the most you've ever talked to him the whole week.

As he gets lost in his thoughts, you find yourself mentally tracing the contours of his face, where the sunlight bathes his skin in a soft, warm glow. It accentuates the strong lines of his jaw, his nose. Softens the look in his dark eyes. 

You take a quiet breath, surprised by the fluttering sensation in your chest. It's an odd time and place to notice something like this, but you can’t deny there's a certain rugged handsomeness to him.

You shift your weight, feeling a little self-conscious about your own thoughts. It’s unprofessional, you chide yourself, to think of a patient this way. But the inexplicable attraction you feel for the man before you is unmistakeable.

Aizawa turns slightly, catching you off guard as his eyes meet yours. When he finally speaks again, his voice is softer, almost contemplative. 

“It's strange. There was a time in my life when I wouldn't have cared what happened to me in the line of duty, whether I lived or died. But now...I want to live for those kids. My kids.”

You manage a wobbly smile even as your heart aches at his words. "Your students are lucky to have someone who cares about them so much."

“You remind me of them a little bit.” He lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling softly in the quiet room. “Determined, stubborn, always insisting on helping.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

The corner of his lips quirk up, and the realization that he might actually be teasing you sends your heart aflutter. 

“Mostly good,” he murmurs. “A little bit troublesome for me though.”

“Yeah?” You bite back a smirk. “You’ve been a bit troublesome for me, too, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the pillows. “Is that so? And how do you propose I make it up to you, then?”

Maybe it’s the huskiness of his voice, the quiet intensity of his gaze, or the faint smile tugging at his lips, but something about him in this moment makes your stomach freefall. And you’re suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss him, passionately and spontaneously, as if afraid to see sense. 

You know you shouldn't indulge this, should put a stop to this train of thought before it gains too much momentum. You’re thankful you manage to keep your voice steady despite the rush of blood pounding in your ears. 

“Well, Aizawa-san, you could start by taking me out to dinner. Dealing with a patient as stubborn as you has its price, you know.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake. But then his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, and you feel your breath hitch. He tilts his head, his expression thoughtful yet guarded, as if trying to read between the lines of your playfulness.

“I suppose,” he concedes softly. “But you might find that I’m not as interesting as you think, Y/N. I’m just a man who cares about the people in his life and does what he can to protect them.”

"That's exactly what I like about you.” Your voice drops to a whisper, your hand lightly brushing against his.

He groans softly, and you feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the sound. He rubs his hand down his face, seemingly weighing his options. 

It’s not too late, you assure yourself in a rush of anxious thoughts. You haven’t crossed any lines you can’t go back on, haven’t overstepped the delicate boundary between patient and nurse, between flirtation and something more. 

“Will you let me kiss you at the end of the date?”

Oh.

The line is a dot now.

You swallow hard and — heart pounding in your chest, everything else spinning dizzyingly out of focus — you rush forward to close the distance between you, pressing your lips urgently against his. 

The spark you felt before intensifies into an electrifying current now, racing down your spine as he tangles one hand in your hair and another holds you by the nape. He tilts your head back to kiss you deeper, his lips hungrily exploring yours, and you feel drunk on the pleasure of his touch, the intoxicating scent of his skin and his aftershave.

The softness of his lips contrasts with the roughness of his stubble, sending shivers of delight coursing through you. His mouth is warm and inviting, and you lose yourself in the sensation of his kiss, the way he breathes you in, the quiet sighs of pleasure that escape both of you. 

Your mind spins with the realization of how much you’ve wanted this and how many ill-advised daydreams you’ve had of him these past few weeks. When you finally break apart for air, you keep your forehead pressed against his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. The sound of your blood rushing in your ears drowns out the rhythmic beeping of the machines around you, and for a moment, the world feels narrowed down to just the two of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” Your breath comes in ragged gasps. Your fingers gingerly touch your lips, which are pursed in surprise. “That was reckless of me. I shouldn’t have.”

Aizawa blinks at you, his dark eyes wide and dazed, like he’s trying to process what just happened. He licks his lips, a gesture that sends a fresh wave of warmth through your body.

“Do you…” His voice is husky, tinged with uncertainty. “Do you regret it?”

“No, of course not,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “I only regret not doing it at a better time.”

His eyes widen slightly in surprise before softening, the tension in his shoulders seemingly melting away. 

"Good," he murmurs, reaching for you, his thumb cradling your jaw and tracing small, soothing circles on your skin. “Because I’d like to do it again—”

He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And again—”

He brushes his lips teasingly against yours, feather-light and promising of more.

“And again.”

The admission sends a thrill through you, a rush of joy and excitement that makes your pulse quicken. "All the more reason to look forward to dinner, I suppose. After you get better, that is."

He chuckles softly. "Shouldn't be a problem, seeing as how I have an excellent nurse taking care of me."

"Mmmhm. Speaking of, is there anything else I can do to make you…more comfortable before I leave?” You can't help but ask, a playful lilt in your voice.

He captures your lips in a delicate kiss, so sweet and tender, like a dream barely skimming the surface of reality. You've finally calmed down enough to hear the sound of his heart rising, betrayed by the loudening beep of the machine. His hand trails down your arm and he laces his fingers with yours, smiling against your lips. 

“I can think of a few things.”

[thetreefairy]

Heyyy 🤍

I wanted to request a platonic father Aizawa, in which his daughter is really stressed and he finds her crying, almost in the border of a panic attack. And how he helps her, etc.

A little context of this request is that today i had a panic attack hahaha. So basicly confort and a slight angst ñ.

Thanks love 🤍

she/her reader (f/f) - favorite food tw: panic attacks, yandere undertones but not so much because I accidentally mixed up requests, so I did tone it down extremely so that it was just father Aizawa but because of that i had to cut some scenes, so sorry if it's like messy.

sorry for the late response, internship is depleting my energy levels like a fucking leech (love my internship though) <3

this isn't my best piece since I kept the panic attack vague as there are many ways to like have a panic attack so I didn't want to be too specific.

Reader always had been an anxious child, that's why Aizawa Shouta wasn't a fan of her being a hero student. Even as a support student.

While she inherited his quirk, she was rather talented in science and making support items, so she chose the support route.

Shouta saw it as a comprise, this way she won't be involved in direct combat and she would still be able to live her 'dream'.

"Reader?" Shouta called out as he opened the door of their apartment, he had come home late after a rather nasty fight with Shigaraki. "I brought you back some (f/f)."

That was something he rather often did when he got back from a nasty fight that was actually on TV. Ever since his new class, he wasn't really an 'underground' hero anymore, so his fights were more available to the public. The downside of that was that Reader could watch them.

He heard a rather loud sob and he saw his daughter wrapped up in a banket, watching TV, the news sender. "Oh, baby." Aizawa cooed instantly, thinking she was crying because of his fight. He placed the food on the table and rubbed his baby's shoulders. Pulling her in for a side hug. "Papa is okay."

Well he was right to some extent, Reader wasn't just crying for her father. She was crying about her support items, she had given her papa a prototype of one of her eye-creams (which she made with recovery-girl as a trying something new thing) and a taser that paralyzes the person at the receiving end for like an hour or two, so why didn't he use them?

He could have ended the fight quicker and less injured, Reader was panicking because she thought her items weren't good enough. That they failed her papa when he needed them. When Reader didn't make a sound besides heavy breathing and sobbing when Shouta pulled her in for a hug, he realized that something else was going on as well.

"Petal?" Reader was too quit for Shouta's liking, so he pulled the weighted blanket over her. She was either having a panic attack or mad at him, so he'll comfort her until she's able to tell him what she wants. "I'm going to keep hugging you, okay?"

He felt a weak nod but Reader was still breathing too quickly for his liking. "Now, I am going to do some breathing exercises, wanna do them with me?"

She didn't respond so Shouta silently started to guide her breathing and when she was breathing properly he whispered comforting words in her ears.

"Papa?" Reader asked softly. "D-did my taser fail you?"

"Huh?" Shouta asked confused, then it clicked to him, the prototype. "Oh, papa lend it out to Midoriya, my biggest problem child, remember him?"

Reader nodded, Midoriya often hung out with her in Recovery girl's room because he usually got injured a lot but also because she made a cream to help with his joints but that cream needs recovery-girls quirk to be made.

"He keeps getting in trouble so I gave him your taser, since it has multiple uses so that he can run instead of fighting."

"...So you didn't hate it?"

"No, I love it baby." Shouta cooed, his poor baby was rather insecure and weak. He really shouldn't let her watch the hero news-channels, perhaps he should just keep her safe and sound in the apartment. (the league of villains have been becoming way more aggressive and calculating for his liking). "I love everything you make me, you know?"

"But you would tell me if I need to improve?" Reader asked softly, she needed an answer to that, so that she could be for sure if he was sincere about his compliments and feedback.

"Of course, whenever have I sugar-coated anything?" He grinned up to his daughter with his trade-mark shit eating grin. Reader chuckled weakly, she felt better now, but the small voice in her head was still bullshitting her. (At least for Shouta would it always be bullshit, and Reader? Well she'll need some convincing)

"Never."

"Exactly, how about I call in sick tomorrow and we go to a cat café huh?"

Hope you like it<33

[mooonpiess]

arguments never last long in the yamada-aizawa household.

full blown yelling to petty bickering; they always apologize to each other

they know tomorrow isnt guaranteed and never want the last words they hear from each other be something negative

they got into an argument once, and went to bed angry. both of them are stubborn and didnt want to apologize.

until that night when hizashi got a call that shouta was critically injured on patrol

not only was he full of fear for his injured husband, but he was terrified the worst could happen and the last thing he said was hurtful

as soon as he showed up to the hospital room and saw shouta on the hospital bed, apologies stumbled out of his mouth.

he knew that would be the first and last time they didn’t apologize to each other.

they both have tasted death.

they both knew how it felt to be the one in the bed and the one sitting in the chair.

they both experienced that fear of wondering what they would tell the kids.

they both knew they loved each other, but they make a point to say it every day now.

[thelonelyfairy]

Fractured Bonds

Chapter 1

( Shouta Aizawa x Reader x Toshinori Yagi)

Summary: Your time working alongside All Might was cut short due to his devastating injury and Sir Nighteye’s grim warning of the resurgence of All For One brought you no choice but to part ways with your lover for the greater good.

Upon your return, you took up a new role as UA’s next nurse, under the guidance of Recovery Girl. Yet, as you re-entered the lives of your old friends and stepped back into the growing conflict with the League of Villains, your past, connections, and the secrets buried deep within you would challenge you resolve and ultimately shape your destiny.

Note: Tags of this story will be on my master list which is linked below! Happy reading!

Masterlist Chapter 2

Note: I absolutely despise reading any x reader fics with any mention of (Y/N) so I added a name here, you’ll see it scattered here and there but I did not add any physical features that’ll throw you off since that is up to your own imagination. Lastly, Minors DNI 🛑 Happy reading! 🫶

Day 1

The sterile smell of antiseptic fills the air as you stand by the entrance of the U.A. infirmary. Once you step foot into the room—with its white walls and clinical cleanliness—your mind and body finally begin to ease.

Recovery Girl sits at her desk, scribbling away at a stack of medical reports, her short figure barely visible behind the pile. “Welcome, dear! So glad to see you doing well after all these years!”

You offer a small smile, though your nerves twist tighter as you approach her desk, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your coat. You’re not used to standing still—action, movement, and fighting was your norm. Healing, while always a part of your Kitsune quirk, has never been your primary focus.

Recovery Girl stands, her cane tapping softly against the floor as she moves towards one of the examination tables. “Your healing abilities with that Kitsune spirit of yours intrigued me the moment you enrolled, but you need to learn how to harness them properly in this kind of environment.”

You nod, healing was always something you did on the sidelines or in the heat of battle, never in a controlled setting like this.

“And one more thing,” Recovery Girl adds, her voice softening slightly as she gestures for you to come closer. “I know you’re carrying a lot from your past, child. You’re not just here because you’re talented. You’re here because you need healing too.”

Day 2

“Absolutely not, Yamada,” Nemuri hisses, keeping a firm grip on the back of Hizashi’s jacket as he tries to push forward, eyes alight with excitement at the sight of you and Recovery Girl on the way to tend to the injured students after the entrance exam. But while Hizashi is eager for a reunion, Nemuri knows better, aware that seeing the faculty, especially after all these years, would turn your stomach into knots.

In the dimly lit security room, Aizawa leans against the wall, his eyes heavy with fatigue as he attempts to ignore the banter between Nemuri and Hizashi. His attention, instead, stays locked on the screens, observing the aftermath of the students' battles, each one fighting for a place in U.A.

As he mentally tallies the students' performances, his sharp gaze focuses on the feed that switches to a familiar face—Midoriya, lying broken in the debris after a heroic but reckless display of power. The boy had saved another student, but at the cost of his own body.

Aizawa sighs, already planning to mark Midoriya down, his thoughts centeres on the boy’s lack of control over his quirk. Then, something—or rather someone—unexpected enters the frame.

Your colored hair steps into view, a fox-like spirit at your side, guiding you towards the injured boy.

‘Yan…’

“Who’s that?” one of the faculty members mutters, leaning in as the camera zooms closer.

Aizawa doesn’t answer. He already knows. Half of the staff in the room already knows.

Beside you stands Recovery Girl, the two of you examining Midoriya’s broken form.

Aizawa watches closely, his heart tightening unexpectedly. He hadn’t seen you in years, but there you are—compose, calm, your movements precise as always.

The room grows quiet, everyone transfixed as you kneel beside Midoriya. Your Kitsune glows softly, casting a warm light over the boy’s battered body.

With practiced care, you place paper talismans, ofuda, on his limbs, each one pulsing with healing energy. Slowly, the light spreads, knitting his shattered bones and torn muscles back together. Midoriya’s pained expression eases as the healing takes hold.

“Fox Face…” All Might’s voice breaks the silence, confusion lacing his words as he leans in for a better view.

Aizawa clenches his jaw as you stand, your Kitsune wrapping itself around your shoulders. You introduce yourself to the students, with that smile full of life, confidence, so different from the shy, hesitant girl he used to know.

“Looks like things are gonna get interesting from here on out,” Nemuri whispers to Hizashi, who chuckles softly, nodding in agreement.

Day 3

You stand just outside the teacher’s office, clutching a stack of paperwork to your chest. It’s your third official day back at U.A., and despite all the years of training and experience you’ve accumulated, a heavy sense of nervousness still resides.

Rumors already circulating that this year’s Hero Course will face unprecedented challenges, which means your workload will only grow. But for now, your task was simple: drop off some forms and avoid any familiar faces.

You peer into the office and sigh in relief. Empty, just as you hoped.

“Alright, get in, get out,” you whisper to yourself, stepping into the quiet room.

You place the paperwork on the desk with a quiet thud, your body finally starting to relax.

“Yan.”

The deep, familiar voice sends a jolt through you, a rush of warmth and dread coursing through your veins.

You turn slowly, already knowing who it is before you even meet his eyes. Toshinori Yagi—All Might, even in his slimmed-down form—leans casually against the doorframe, his smile soft but with a glint in his eyes that hints at more. He’s not here by accident.

You catch your breath before meeting cerulean, “Toshinori,” you greet coolly, though the softness in your tone betrays you.

He steps further into the room, gently closing the door with his foot, leaving it slightly ajar. His gaze drifts to the teacher directory on the wall. “Quite the lineup of teachers this year,” he muses, his finger tracing down the list. He pauses on one name in particular. “Aizawa... EraserHead, huh? Heard some... interesting things about him. Expelled a whole class, didn’t he?”

You stiffen, your heart sinking at the mention of Aizawa.

“He’s... thorough,” you say carefully, forcing neutrality into your voice. “Harsh, but fair. In his own way, at least from what I remember.”

Toshinori glances back at you, his eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary. His gaze feels like a gentle weight, as if he’s trying to read more from your words. His lips quirk slightly, a knowing expression—he’s always been good at reading you.

"Thorough, huh?" he says with a raised brow, teasing. "Sounds like you’ve got some experience with him."

You bite the inside of your cheek, debating how much to reveal. “We studied together. He’s... not the easiest person to get along with.” You force a casual shrug, hoping to mask the sudden heaviness in your chest.

Toshinori’s smile widens, but his eyes soften with understanding. “Well, I was thinking of having a chat with him. Get a sense of who he is before we start working together. But—” his voice lowers, gentler, “—maybe you could join me? Help break the ice?”

You blink, caught off guard not just by the request but by the tenderness in his voice.

Your immediate instinct was to refuse, to avoid the inevitable awkwardness of facing Aizawa after all these years. But Toshinori's warm, steady, almost pleading gaze makes it hard to say no.

“You know him better than I do,” he continues, “It’d be a good way to ease into things... together.”

You finally exhale, your resistance crumbling. “Alright,” you whisper. “I’ll come.”

Toshinori’s face softens with gratitude. “Thank you.”

You nod, glancing down at your hands, realizing they’ve tightened into fists. This was going to be... interesting. To say the least.

The warm afternoon sun filters through the trees as you crouch beside Toshinori, hidden in the bushes near U.A.’s training field. The gentle rustling of leaves matches the anxious beat of your heart as you peek through the branches. Out on the field, Aizawa stands next to Midoriya, the boy you saved back in the entrance exam.

Toshinori, in his All Might form, leans closer, his broad shoulders brushing against yours as he watches with intense focus. “This is where we see what the kid’s made of,” he whispers, his voice low but brimming with enthusiasm.

You raise an eyebrow at his excitement, “Really? Don’t you think this is too much?” you whisper back, nervously glancing up at his massive frame. Even after all these years, it’s still surreal seeing him like this—tall, powerful, and confident, as if his injury never happened.

Toshinori chuckles, the deep sound sending a wave of nostalgia, “A little pressure never hurts anyone.”

You sigh, he hasn’t changed at all. But despite the ease of his presence, a shy flutter stirs in your chest. You had never quite adjusted to seeing him in his All Might form again, not after everything you’d been through together. Memories flood back—his soft whispers and kisses, desperate but gentle touches, his grunts turning guttural with your sounds of pleasure and whimpers—rushes back to you. Those days were exhilarating and loving, but now it felt nothing but a distant dream.

“Wait, wait, is he for real?!” Toshinori’s sudden exclamation pulls you back to the present, his eyes widened with surprise.

Following his gaze, you see Midoriya, his expression full of determination, hurl the ball skyward with such force that it disappears into the clouds. The sheer power of his throw elicits cheers from the other students, their excitement electric as they crowd around Aizawa to see the score.

All but one.

Bakugo—spiky blonde and unmistakable—scowls with fury, clearly unimpressed by Midoriya’s display. Without warning, he charges at Midoriya with a guttural yell, ready to tackle him.

But Aizawa is faster. His gray capture scarf snaps out like lightning, coiling around Bakugo’s arms and torso, stopping him mid-charge. The explosive student thrashes wildly, but it’s no use. Aizawa has him locked down within seconds, his eyes glowing red, hair floating in that familiar storm-like halo, signaling the activation of his Quirk.

You bite back a smile. There’s something about Aizawa’s battle-ready stance—the glowing eyes, the quiet authority, the way his hair moves like it’s caught in an invisible wind. That quiet intensity he carries always draws you in, no matter how much you’ve tried to push it away.

Toshinori, oblivious to your shift in focus, continues watching in awe. “Young Midoriya has so much potential,” he mutters, still marveling at the boy’s strength.

As Aizawa loosens the grip of his scarf, Bakugo grumbles under his breath before stalking back to the group, glaring daggers at Midoriya. Midoriya, relieved, exhales heavily, tension melting from his shoulders.

Aizawa hands Midoriya a referral slip, likely sending him to Recovery Girl. Just as you begin to relax, you feel a sudden, sharp tug,your Kitsune spirit, stirring with urgency. Alarmed, you see the ethereal fox dart out toward the training field.

"Kitsune!" you whisper urgently under your breath, leaving Toshinori behind to admire the glowing trail of Sakura blossoms that always follows your departure.

A gentle breeze, shimmering with glowing Sakura blossoms, swirls around you as you materialize in front of Midoriya, paying no mind to Aizawa being behind you as Your Kitsune spirit coils around you in a radiant, ethereal light.

Midoriya, wide-eyed, in awe at your sudden appearance. His injured finger—the nail bent and bruised—is quickly noticed. Without missing a beat, you pull a healing ofuda from your pouch, wrapping it carefully around the boy’s finger. The Kitsune channels its energy through the talisman, and in an instant, the bruising faded, the injury vanishing as if it had never existed.

"Th-thank you! That was amazing! Aren't you the new nurse? You're incredible!" Midoriya’s words tumbled out in a rush, his face full of awe.

You offer a soft smile as the other students whisper among themselves, intrigued by the display of your Quirk. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Giving Midoriya a final nod before your Kitsune flicks its tail, signaling it was time to retreat.

Before the students begin to flood you with questions, you teleport back to Toshinori, leaving behind the usual shimmering trail of Sakura blossoms.

As you reappear beside Toshinori, hidden in the bushes, he chuckles warmly. “You’re quite the showstopper, Yan.”

You smile, humming softly. “You taught me all of that, after all.”

But before the moment can settle, Aizawa appears. His sharp eyes, trained on the glowing cherry blossom trail you left behind, track its faint shimmer—something that would’ve easily escaped the ordinary eye. His expression is unreadable, though a faint tension lingers in the air.

“Aizawa, that was a rotten move!” Toshinori chimes in, clearly referring to the expulsion tactic used earlier.

Aizawa’s gaze flickers between you and Toshinori, and though his tone is dry, a subtle smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. “And what were you two doing over there in the bushes?” The passive aggression in his voice lingers, cutting through the cold detachment of his words.

For a moment, you were back in high school, bantering and teasing like old times. But this wasn’t the same Aizawa you once knew. His cold demeanor, the years that separated you both—it built a wall you weren't sure you could break through.

Toshinori, the complete opposite of Aizawa, brushes off the tension with his carefree demeanor, waving a hand. “I’ve heard rumors about you, Aizawa. Expelling a whole class—bold move.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrows, his gaze locking onto Toshinori’s. “And?”

Toshinori continues, his tone more serious now. “The threat you made earlier about expelling the student in last place—it wasn’t a bluff. You saw their potential and acted on it. But that can only mean, you see the kind of potential in young Midoryia that I do!”

Aizawa’s expression remains stony, but his eyes shift toward you, scrutinizing closely. “So you’ve both been lurking here for a while, watching.”

You drew in a breath, steadying yourself under the weight of his gaze. You’ve never gotten used to those piercing eyes. Your mind scrambles for a response, but Aizawa didn’t give you a chance to speak. “And you just happened to show up in time to heal Midoriya’s injuries. Convenient.”

A small, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of Aizawa’s mouth before he turns on his heel, walking away. “It’s cruel,” he mutteres, his voice just loud enough for you and Toshinori to hear, “to let a kid keep dreaming of something that’ll never come true.”

His words lingered in the air, biting and cold. You stood frozen, the weight of his judgment sinking deep into your chest. Even as he disappears from sight, the intensity of his presence remains, swirling around you like a storm cloud that refuses to clear.

Day 4

The next day was more calm to your liking since Allmight planned on mentoring Aizawa’s students with an indoor training session, leaving you busy at the infirmary with Recovery Girl.

With all that’s on your mind and with the insistence of Recovery Girl, you step into the breakroom, your nerves still buzzing from the encounter with Aizawa yesterday.

The breakroom was quiet, except for one familiar figure lounging on the couch.

Midnight, or Nemuri as she preferred to be called by those close to her. Nemuri glances up from her cup of tea, a smirk instantly pulling at her lips. "Well, well, look who finally decided to stop by," she teases, her voice smooth as silk.

You manage a small smile as you cross the room, "I figured I should finally make an appearance," you joke lightly, though the exhaustion in your voice was hard to hide.

Nemuri’s eyes narrows, "You seem tense. Does it have anything to do with a certain someone who goes by the name Eraserhead?" Her voice was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity underneath it.

You wince,"It’s nothing," you lie, but Nemuri wasn’t buying it.

"Uh-huh," Nemuri leans back in her seat, folding her arms over her chest. "Well, if you say so. But I know that look. You saw him, didn’t you?"

You sigh, knowing there was no point in denying it. Nemuri had always been sharp, especially when it came to reading her friends. "Yeah, I ran into him yesterday," you admit, "It was...awkward. I don’t even know how to act around him anymore."

Nemuri frowns, her teasing tone fading. "You know Aizawa can be a tough nut to crack, even for those of us who’ve known him for years. But give it time. He’ll come around again."

You nod, though you weren't entirely convinced. Aizawa wasn’t the only reason your emotions were tangled up. Your return to U.A. had brought up so many memories—both good and bad.

Nemuri studies you for a moment before her expression softens. "What about Hizashi? Are you okay with seeing him? You know how he is—loud, excitable... the complete opposite of you." She chuckles, though her concern was clear.

Hizashi Yamada, Present Mic, had always been a whirlwind of energy, constantly shouting and bursting with enthusiasm. It was hard to keep up with someone like him, especially for someone like you, who thrive in quieter spaces. But at the same time, you do miss him. You missed the friendship you all once shared.

"I think..." You begin slowly, unsure of your own words, approaching one of the couches across from Nemuri "I think it’ll be nice to—“

Nemuri grins at your approval, just as the door to the breakroom burst open, and in comes Hizashi himself, his voice already at full volume before he even stepped inside.

"YAAAAANNNNN!!" Hizashi practically screamed with joy, the break room door burst open, and in comes Hizashi himself, his voice already at full volume before he even stepped inside.

He rushes into the room with arms wide open, hugging you from behind. His blonde hair bounced wildly as he practically jumped toward her, his enthusiasm infectious. "It’s been forever! I can’t believe you’re back!"

You barely had time to brace yourself before Hizashi plops down next to you, pulling you into a tight hug, his sheer energy making you laugh.

"Hi, Hizashi," you managed, your voice muffled by his shoulder. "You haven’t changed a bit."

"And you haven’t aged a day! You’re making me jealous of that Kitsune of yours," Hizashi beams, stepping back to give her some space but still buzzing with excitement, surprised that he still remembers the other pros of your quirk.

For a moment, you regret avoiding them for so long. These were the people who had been by your side through thick and thin. Sure, they were loud, chaotic, and sometimes overwhelming—but they were your friends.

As Hizashi begins his exuberant storytelling, arms flailing dramatically with every word, You couldn’t help but smile at his antics. He hadn’t changed one bit, still the same energetic force of nature. But just as he was getting into the climax of his latest radio escapade, Nemuri suddenly stood up, a sly grin forming on her face.

"Yamada, dear," Nemuri begins in a sweet, almost too innocent voice. "Why don’t you take a little rest?"

Before Hizashi could even react, Midnight raises her hand, releasing her quirk—a subtle wave of pink, sparkling mist that drifted towards Hizashi. His animated voice trailed off mid-sentence, and his eyelids drooped instantly. Within seconds, Hizashi slumped into the chair, fast asleep, still smiling from whatever ridiculous story he’d been telling.

You blink, glancing between Nemuri and the now-snoozing Hizashi. "Was that really necessary?"

Nemuri shrugs, her grin widening. "It was either that, or listen to him go on for another hour. We’d never get a word in." She plops back down on the couch, patting the seat next to her. "Come on, we need a little girl talk, just us. I’ve been dying to hear what’s going on with you, especially after becoming All Might's sidekick.”

You hesitated for a second but then sank into the other end of the couch with a soft sigh, finally able to enjoy the silence after Hizashi’s whirlwind of energy.

Nemuri leans forward, resting her chin on her hand, her eyes twinkling with mischief as you look down, her fingers nervously tapping against your thigh. Of course Nemuri would go straight to the heart of the issue. And now, with Hizashi out cold, there was no escaping the conversation.

"It wasn’t anything serious," you begin softly, trying to brush it off. "I mean, we were both… well, we worked closely together. That’s all."

Nemuri rolls her eyes, giving her a playful nudge. "Don’t play coy with me, Yan. You and All Might were practically glued to each other back when you were his sidekick in America. Something was definitely going on between you two."

“We just work together like we’re supposed to…”

Nemuri raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, please. You don’t just look at someone the way you look at him if it was ‘just work,’ I’m surprised no one caught on."

Your face begins to heat up, recalling those late nights on missions, the moments between battles when you two would steal glances and in private of his home filling up with euphoria from his guttural grunts and your sweet gasps, along with late night cuddles and soft kisses . It had been a different time—a simpler time, before Toshinori’s injury, before he had to carry the burden of being the Symbol of Peace all alone. Back then, you’ve been by his side, helping him, loving him.

But that was the past.

"It was complicated," You admit, her voice barely above a whisper. "We were both so focused on the job. And when his injury happened, everything changed. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, and neither could I."

Nemuri hums, leaning back with a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “So… how big was he?” she teases, her eyes glinting mischievously.

Your eyes widens in shock, Of course, the R-Rated Hero would go ask that.

“All I’ll say is I never got used to his size…” You quickly covered your face, embarrassed by the answer that escaped your lips. Thank goodness Hizashi was still out cold—there was no way he could keep something like this to himself.

Nemuri chuckles. “Come on, Yan. We’re all adults here. Why are you acting like a blushing virgin?”

You stiffen, avoiding her gaze as the silence stretches between you. It didn’t take much for Nemuri to put two and two together.

“Wait… Are you telling me… that All Might… All Might, the number one hero, was your first?”

You groan, desperately gesturing for her to lower her voice. “Keep it down! The last thing I need is for the whole school to know that.”

Nemuri mimicked zipping her lips, though her expression was still one of utter shock. “I can’t believe it. All Might took your virginity?” she whispers, disbelief written all over her face.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It wasn’t planned, it just… happened,” you explained softly.

“I thought you lost it to Shouta?"

“You know this,” You explain, “He’s not the same anymore, and neither am I. We’ve both… changed. The breakup had to be done.”

Nemuri shakes her head. "Girl, you’re not getting off that easily. You can’t just bury your feelings forever. I remember the way you two were back in highschool."

"What do you mean?"

Nemuri scoffs, "Oh, don’t play dumb. I remember seeing how flustered you got when he teased you. You two have history, you two were well known as the Highschool sweethearts. Even in the yearbook voted that the two of you would marry in the future!”

Aizawa has always been a constant presence in your life—steady, reliable, and still completely unreadable. But even after all these years, something about him still made your heart race, especially when his sharp eyes locked on yours in that intense, unblinking way of his.

"It’s not like that anymore," your voice strains at the loss of what you two had. "We’re just… co-workers. That’s all."

Nemuri chuckled, rolling here eyes. "Yeah, right. And Hizashi’s a quiet introvert."

You begin to rub your temples. "It’s just… complicated, okay? With both of them. I don’t even know how to feel anymore. Coming back to U.A. has brought up all these old memories, and I just… I don’t know."

Nemuri rests a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I get it. It’s hard being back here after all this time. But just remember, you don’t have to figure it all out right away. Take your time. See how things go with both Toshinori and Aizawa. You’ve got a history with both of them, and that means something."

You nod, grateful for her friend’s understanding. "Thanks, Nemuri. I just… I guess I need to figure out what I really want."

Nemuri grins, pulling you into a quick hug. "That’s what I’m here for. We’re best friends after all aren’t we?”

You smile as all the weight leaves your chest. Maybe Nemuri was right. For now, though, she was grateful for the support of her friends.

Nemuri stands up, stretching lazily as she glances at the still-snoozing Hizashi. "Now, I’m going to wake up this loudmouth before he drools all over the furniture. But remember, if you ever need to talk, I’m here."

You chuckle softly. "Thanks, Nemuri. I’ll keep that in mind."

As Nemuri leans over to nudge Hizashi awake, you take a deep breath, A sense of relief washing over you.

———

Feel free to comment below if you’d like be tagged on the tag list for upcoming chapter updates! Reblogs, likes, and constructive feedback are greatly appreciated 🫶

[dark-elf-writes]

Prompt is you want more: Izuku has been missing for 6 years when he finally reappears. He's 14 now, he's been missing since he was 8. He was in Thedas. He was being raised by Morrigan as a son with Keiran.

Let your imagination run.

Izuku Midoriya was an odd child.

That was the general consensus that the faculty had all come to, anyway.

From the six year gap in his file where he had been missing without a trace (“I do not recall,” he would claim with eyes too sharp and a smile full of teeth.) to the odd way he talked — too old for a teenager, too old for anyone really, who still said “T’is” in casual conversation — to the odd quirk of his (magic he called it with a sharp grin. Old forgotten magic.)

Yes Izuku Midoriya was odd.

That oddness was never more obvious than when their class was attacked in the first week of school. While the others froze, terrified as any child would be in the face of a real threat to their lives, Izuku had laughed, already twirling that staff of his and calling down lightning. He didn’t so much as hesitate to throw himself into the fray before Shouta could. Perhaps because Shouta hadn’t moved, he realized, as an electrified cage appeared in the center of the USJ trapping the majority of the villains. He was a whirlwind of flashing lights and the snap of electricity. When the mass of villains got too close, Shouta was there, giving the kid room to breathe. When Shouta himself was surrounded, a green wolf tackled the nearest villain.

When the… thing appeared, Izuku, long since returned to his human form, narrowed his eyes on the massive thing and drew the twin daggers at his sides.

Shouta’s heart stopped somewhere in the impossibly long moment Midoriya hung there in the air with blades at the ready and a scream on his lips. Like a monster that size was nothing to be afraid of. Like the way it had absorbed the lightning blasts Izuku had thrown at it was no cause for concern. Lime they knew just how to take on something that size. It was all Shouta could do, bleeding and injured as he was to keep the leader away from Izuku and the creature. All he could do to keep his aching eyes opened so he wasn’t rendered to dust and the kids left alone.

Izuku plunged both daggers into the thing’s head with a roar and a second later an earsplitting crack filled the room as a bolt of green lightning, channeled and amplified by the metal shoved directly into the creature’s exposed brain, blasted clear through the monster and left a several foot wide crater in the center of the USJ.

Midoriya was unconscious before they hit the ground, a long tongue wrapping around them and yanking them away from the massive bulk of the thing before it could crush them, and Shouta was left facing the enraged leader.

Yes, Midoriya Izuku was odd, and Shouta Aizawa was going to figure out why.

[redr0sewrites]

Bnha Masterlist

Dabi/Touya:

im a handful (but that's what hands are for) - Touya x fem!reader - smut/nsfw

cuddling with Touya hcs + drabble - sfw/fluff

dying your hair with Touya (+ shenanigans) - sfw/fluff

how he shows affection hcs - fluff/sfw

Shouta Aizawa:

Aizawa x afab!reader - riding him in his office chair - nsfw/smut

tiny loser!Aizawa headcanon - fluff/sfw

Tomura Shigaraki:

sub!inexperienced!shigaraki x fem!dom!reader - smut/nsfw

rain against the rooftop, you against me - sub!shigaraki x fem!reader - heavy petting/grinding - nsfw/smut

t. shigaraki nsfw alphabet - smut/nsfw

Keigo Takami:

k. takami nsfw alphabet - smut/nsfw

celebrating his birthday together - sfw/fluff/suggestive

wrapping christmas lights around his biceps - sfw/fluff/suggestive

Katsuki Bakugo:

bakugo taking care of injured!fem!hockey player readers wounds - fluff/sfw

Spinner/Schuichi Iguchi:

how he shows affection hcs - fluff/sfw

Multi Character:

Dabihawks x reader - comfort after a breakup/cheating ex - fluff/sfw

[dreamingofaizawa]

Never Let Him Go

Szayelaporro Granz x Arrancar! Reader

Warnings: None, just some fluffy falling in love and shii

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note: Well it would seem I'm obsessed with Bleach. No, this is not medically accurate LMAO I'm no doctor and these are hollows. Yeah there's a whole lot more coming lmao be prepared (I'm also working on another Shouta Aizawa fic from MHA but you didn't hear that from meeeeee)

Enjoy~

You’d heard the speech that the weird looking Soul Reaper Captain had rattled on about. You’d waited until they all left, until he’d taken the injured and was sated rummaging through Master Szayelaporro’s lab. You had to wait, no matter how close the Master was to dying, or you’d die as well and then there was no saving him at all. When you’d finally been able to tend to him, he was still frozen in that pose, one arm outstretched and a broken zanpakuto piercing his palm and chest. You used your abilities to see into his chest cavity, thanking whatever higher being there could be in this universe the zanpakuto had only barely sliced into his heart.

He’d live, as long as you could make it back to the medical lab.

Carefully, you pulled the Zanpakuto out and away from the organ, using your small bit of healing abilities to seal the wounded tissue. He’d lost his resurrecion sometime between the shinigami departing and now, the form shattering and reverting back to its blade at his hip. It only takes you a moment, slipping one of his arms over your shoulders and wrapping your arm around his waist, in a short series of sonido to get to your personal lab, away from Las Noches, far far away in the depths of the Menos Forest where not even Lord Aizen would care much to venture. Not for you, and not for the Espada he’s probably written off as dead. 

___

How long has it been? Years, surely. Nothing ever moved, not until he’d noticed something was in a different place than it used to be. It all faded into a blur, his wish for death taking far too long to come to fruition. And then, he’d spotted you. You, moving ever so slowly toward him in the rubble. It took months for you to reach him. You were running, straight toward him. His mind protests when you start to examine him, for years he screams in his mind when you reach for the blade piercing his chest, and his hatred builds for you once the blade is free. Surely, you weren’t cruel enough to keep him alive. Between the months of your slowed motions, he realizes he recognizes you. You weren’t assigned as his fraccion, no you weren’t assigned at all to anyone. You were one of those odd medic fraccions, one that spent some time in his own lab just observing and attending to his subjects when they weren’t able to remain awake. You…what the hell did you think you were doing? Your movement suddenly got faster, taking hours instead of months. A sonido? He could almost see the fluidity of the motions, almost actually see them move! That alone put a nasty spark of hope in his mind, one he quickly squashed.

Then he was on a table, and you were all over the place. An eternity you’d spent hovering over him, spreading ointments, flashing lights, gazing into his eyes. In those eons he spent face to face with you, his hatred and anger dissipated, replaced with dreadful curiosity. You were trying to save him? Why? You had no obligation to do so, and should Aizen find out you may be killed. But… He hasn’t found out yet? It’s been so long since that battle with Captain Mayuri Kibutsuchi, how does Aizen not know? Belatedly, he remembers his perception of time is skewed, dragged out impossibly long. And yet, he can see things still happening around him. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to reverse this plague. 

Another eon passes, your body hunched over the counter in the lab. He can only guess what you’re doing, with your body blocking everything to his gaze. His hand has been moved, in the time he’s been laying there, and rests on his chest. The ache that formed there was ebbing slowly away, the pain he’d been feeling for a millennia finally dulling down. It’s like he can breathe again. And then you’re above him again, your eyes boring into his own. He’d long determined that you were looking for any kind of reaction in his eyes. If anything you were doing had any effect on his drugged state. 

It’s a very long time you spend, your nose almost touching his own. It’s all he can do to examine your face, commit to memory every pore, every follicle, even the ridges of your iris he sears into his brain. You’re beautiful, he muses. He’s been staring at your form for decades, noting the way your hair falls over your face, how your lashes fall gently over your supple cheeks with every week-long blink, how the single tear you’d produced falls down to your chin and slips into the collar of your uniform. He notes your dedication to saving him. To him, you’ve been spending thousands of years tending to him. He sees your need to save him, sees the desperation forming in your eyes, relief and sadness and frustration. You’re so very beautiful, in all your emotions. He reflects on his own desperation for perfection, thinks upon his life as an espada. What had he been searching and experimenting so hard and long for? Perfection. But perfection was not a result, not a single end product to work toward. That fool Mayuri was wrong, perfection was a state of being, an acceptance, but why had he spent so much time on it when perfection was right here? You were right here the whole time.

Your hands were delicate, where they lay over him. Your footfalls light and your hips swaying gently. Your movements, however slow, were gentle and meticulous. It felt as though you were worshiping his body, trying to save him from this eternal hell.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he falls in love with you.

___

You’ve stretched every resource thin. You don’t know what to do. Nothing is working, adrenaline shots do nothing, and there’s no way of knowing what that captain had used to create this potion of his. It’s been days. You’ve spent days with Szayel, hooked him up to an air regulator and a hollow’s equivalent of a ‘pacemaker’ to keep his heart and lungs going. An IV is keeping his nutrition up, but there’s nothing else you can do. You’re stuck. You need to think. You’d already taken blood samples to try to pinpoint the poison, but nothing makes any sense to you. All of these things are foreign to you, the compounds in his blood not having broken down at all. Wait. They should have broken down by now, surely. They can’t remain in his bloodstream forever, right? Maybe they won’t dissipate on their own. Maybe, just maybe, you can take it out.With that, you get to work. It takes a few hours, but you've managed it. A filter that removes all traces of the toxin from the blood. All that’s left to do is hook it to a centrifuge and filter his blood through it. This will work, right? It has to work.

___

There’s something in your eyes. He can see it. Determination, hope, that flicker of brilliance when an idea finally comes to you. You’re everywhere, tubes and needles and…a centrifuge? What on earth could you be doing? In all this time, he’s been resolved to the fact that all you’ve been doing is tending his wounds and keeping him alive. But what is this? What else could you do for him? You’re working tirelessly. It takes him far too long to understand, once all of the pieces of your puzzle are completed. It’s only when you’ve put two needles into his body, and the blood begins to flow through the tubes up into the machine that he understands.

You were removing the poison from his bloodstream, manually. It could be genius. You must have found something important, something crucial, to be taking such a measure. The poison infecting him must not be diluting in his body, lingering just as strong as the initial infection. So you’ve decided to take it out by force. You couldn’t be more perfect, the little genius you are.

When his blood, now filtered, finds its way back down the other tube and starts to enter his bloodstream, it’s an instantaneous effect. His memories are processing now, he can remember all of the movements and words you’d poured over him like he hadn’t been living an agonizingly slow existence. The memories are playing in his mind at full speed, his brain is processing things fully for the first time in what feels like millions of years.

___

You can see it working. His chest is rising and falling on its own, the machine regulating his breathing no longer whirring as loudly to help his lungs inflate. The ‘pacemaker’ you’d put in with your special abilities is dissipating, no longer necessary for him to live. And he’s blinking, actually blinking. Slowly, but still. It’s working! You watch your screen carefully, and as you approach 70% of his blood filtered he begins to move his limbs, one hand slowly reaching up and pulling the mask off his mouth. He’s trying to say something, but you only shush him.

“Hold on just a little bit longer, Master Szayelaporro. I promise, it’s almost done. Just a few more minutes and you’re free.” He relaxes after that, allowing you to finish up your little filtering job and finally, finally, the machine beeps and your screen flashes with those beautiful numbers. 100% of his blood has been cycled through and filtered, a vial of that poison sat in the centrifuge. It’s done. You look back at him, only to find he’d yanked the mask off his face and removed the needles from his arms, completely disconnecting himself from the machine. He was standing right behind you, and as you turned you couldn’t help the beaming smile on your face, tears beginning to streak down your cheeks.

___

It was the most beautiful sight he’s seen, your tears falling at a normal speed and your smile brighter than the false sun Aizen had created. He reached out and cupped your face in his palm, and when you leaned into it he couldn’t help the way his heart thumped against his ribcage. That made his breath shudder, the feeling of his heart actually beating, instead of the low, constant rush of blood flowing rhythmically for months and months without end.

___

“Master Szayelaporro? How are you feeling?” His hand on your cheek made your heart flutter, but you had to ignore it all. You grasped that hand, removing it in favor of holding it in both your hands at your chest. His voice catches in his throat, which must be exceedingly dry, so you reach over to the glass of water you’d had waiting and let him sip at it. The glass is placed behind you on the desk and he finally speaks.

“I feel like kissing you.” You gasp, and before you can even think about it he’s doing just that, kissing absolutely breathless. His lips are chapped just a little, but they’re insistent and gentle and refuse to leave your own. His hands find any part of you to grab, your hips, arms, shoulders, fingers caressing your neck and cheeks and threading through your hair. You’re stunlocked, only able to clutch at his shoulders as he smothers you. You’re gasping when he finally lets up, heart pounding in your chest.

“M-master Szayelaporro, what’s gotten into you?” He leans down and places his forehead on yours, noses touching and he sighs into your pace.

“You must know how that felt for me, being under that curse.” You nod. You heard the rant, the explanation. It must have felt like years upon years while he was lying still on that table.

“Then you should understand that while you were working on me, I’d spent millennia watching you, memorizing everything about you.” What is he getting at? This does not sound like the same Szayelaporro that you’d known only days ago.

“I have spent what feels like hundreds of thousands of years staring at you in all your beauty. You, you beautiful creature, brilliant and gorgeous, and…” his hands move to your waist and squeeze, “and soft. So soft.” Then he’s kissing you again, stealing your breath away and clutching your hips like you’ll disappear if he lets go. It’s dizzying, the affection he’s lathering you with. You’ve never once heard this man give any sort of compliment or praise to anything or anyone other than himself. Had he really changed that much in such a short time? Then, the realization hits just how long he must have been trapped in his own head. He’d said hundreds of thousands of years. If that is how long his perception of these few days have stretched out, then of course he’d be a completely different person. His entire being has been altered by the passage of time.

“Please, Master Szayelaporro, you need to rest.” You gently push at his shoulders to separate from his lips, as much as you loathe to do so. He really does need to rest.

“Just Szayel is fine, my love. I’m no espada, not anymore. And I’m never going back to that place.” You smile up at him, and he can’t help but smile back, that grin brighter than the moon that hangs in the sky of Hueco Mundo. You reach up and brush back the pink hair that’s fallen over his face, tucking it neatly behind his ear.

“I never got the chance to tell you how pretty you are, Szayel.” That’s no lie, he’s a beautiful man. You’ve been harboring a crush on him for years now, but you knew he’d never reciprocate it under normal circumstances. You were just another fraccion, not even one of his own. Content to just exist, barely in his orbit, you allowed yourself to dare to dream about telling him just how gorgeous you thought he was. Not to mention just how intelligent he is. His experiments may be chaotic, maybe even cruel sometimes, but he is no doubt a genius. Until now, he’d never shown capabilities of any emotion other than annoyance or distaste, and the occasional joy with a successful experiment. But now, he’s everything you wanted and more.

“Well it’s a good thing you’ve waited until now. I’d like to know something else though.” He glances at you, hopeful.

“Anything.”

“Can I kiss you again?” The giggle that slips past your lips is swallowed by his own, your agreeing nod interrupted by a slow, sensual, searing kiss. One thought runs through your mind, finally able to accept such affection from the man you’ve been craving for so long.

You never want to let him go.

[neaxsfiction]

How the mha characters would react when their s/o gets hurt in a fight? (U can chose which characters) ❤️

Hello! Sorry this took so long, I was a bit busy with my personal life. Imma write characters that are gonna have the most unique reactions then. Thanks for the request!❤️

~

Note; please if you're interested in giving me a request, write me down the character(s) you'd like to read in my work, it helps me to organize my thoughts and focus on specific characters. Also the more specific you are, the better my fic / oneshot / headcannons are gonna turn out, ty<3

MHA characters reacting to their S/O getting hurt during a fight

~

Dabi

Let's be honest, that guy isn't attached to anybody. He can't feel any type of emotion unless it's on extreme levels. That's exactly why he doesn't feel anger when he sees you injured, he feels rage.

He wants to burn the place down. Burn the hero. Their whole family line. He's the type of person who you wouldn't know that he appreciates you that much so you'd be surprised to see how much he got worried. Even he doesn't understand what's going on with him. Only thing that I know, is that I wouldn't wanna be that hero, facing him in battle.

~

Tomura Shigaraki

He's extremely calm. More than how much he should be. However that's only a facade in front of you. He's fueled with anger on the hero who dared to touch you and cause you this suffering.

He wants to get revenge for sure. He can't come up with a plan that will ensure them winning the battle over heroes so he gets provided the help of Kurogiri. He wants to turn to dust the entire family tree of the hero who did all that to you.

~

Bakugo Katsuki

There are at least 3 people holding him so he doesn't run outside and give your attacker a piece of his own medicine (probably midoriya kirishima and tenya).

He ends up going outside in the city to find your attacker and make them pay but of course he returns without having done anything other than wandering in the streets furiously. Probably returns calmer though.

~

Izuku Midoriya

Man he almost faints when he sees you injured like this. It's not that he's not familiar with injuries or blood but he freaks out when his loved ones are in that situation.

After he does his best to keep his composure, he asks you details on how you were attacked, who attacked you and things that could in general help him. He's not the type to get revenge but this incident wouldn't go unnoticed, especially if someone else injured you.

~

Hawks

Hawks is of course the type to worry and get you immediately in the hospital. He tries to get some answers from you once you're in a good shape to talk.

He immediately reports the incident to his higher ups and avoids chasing the attacker on his own. Hawks is clearly the workaholic type of man, who doesn't want his personal life to get mixed with his work so he won't chase down the attacker. However he will investigate, till he can't no more, and if he happens to face your attacker in a battle, he'll be more than happy to give his all and get revenge for you.

~

Shouta Aizawa

Just like Hawks, he doesn't want his personal life getting mixed with his work. If the villains knew you are one of Aizawa's loved ones, you'd become their no 1 bait and he'd hate himself if he let that happen.

Pretty much wants to destroy the attacker, but his calm aura doesn't let those violent emotions get out. Of course, if he happens to face the attacker in battle, he's giving his all, even his life if needed.

[stxrrydreamss]

My Hero Academia

Izuku Midoriya

How they hold your hand in bed

“She fell asleep in my arms knowing she’s safe from men like you.”

Positions I wanna put you in…

“Do you ever feel lonely?”

Katsuki Bakugo

They find out you were in a car accident. Part 1, Part 2

How they hold your hand in bed

“She fell asleep in my arms knowing she’s safe from men like you.”

“That's my good girl.”

Werewolf Bakugo Imagine

Positions I wanna put you in…

Shouta Aizawa

They find out you were in a car accident. Part 1, Part 2

How they hold your hand in bed

“She fell asleep in my arms knowing she’s safe from men like you.”

Positions I wanna put you in…

“Do you ever feel lonely?”

Eijiro Kirishima

“She fell asleep in my arms knowing she’s safe from men like you.”

Positions I wanna put you in…

“Do you ever feel lonely?”

Keigo Takami

They find out you were in a car accident. Part 1, Part 2

How they hold your hand in bed

“She fell asleep in my arms knowing she’s safe from men like you.”

Hawks/Dabi reacts to f!reader getting hit with a genderbend quirk.

“That's my good girl.”

Positions I wanna put you in…

“Do you ever feel lonely?”

Touya Todoroki (Dabi)

They find out you were in a car accident. Part 1, Part 2

How they hold your hand in bed

Hawks/Dabi reacts to f!reader getting hit with a genderbend quirk.

“That's my good girl.”

Dabi x Y/N Angst Texts (1)

Exceeding Limits (Dabi x Injured!Reader)-Y/N overuses her quirk.

Mage Dabi x Reader Imagine

Dabi x Injured!Reader Imagine

Prompt: “Everyrhing is temporary, this was one of those things.”

“Do you ever feel lonely?”

Tenko Shimura (Shigaraki)

How they hold your hand in bed

[adminbryantsaki]

Relaxing in the Bath

Shouta Aizawa x Neurodivergent! Reader

(I do not own Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead. He belongs to Horikoshi Kohei. If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee, move on. Reader discretion is advised.)

TW: Minor car accident, minor injuries, hospital trip, overstimulation, sensory calm down, autistic meltdown from overstimulation, reader has compression sleeves and noise cancelling headphones. Neurodivergent awareness, stripping down to take a bath, bath with male partner. WC: 2,148

(photo taken by me of a sunrise)

A vehicle serves to miss a concrete wall, pressure from the seatbelt holding you in presses into your collarbone, you hear Shouta curse under his breath as he turns the steering wheel to avoid wrecking the car against the concrete wall that held up the parking garage that the two of you were trying to park in after a long journey to your destination of the day. He assessed himself before touching your arm to pull you out of the trance that you had been locked in as you were processing everything that had just happened.

“Are you okay? Are you injured?” You heard Shouta’s voice sound. You turned your head to him and shook your head ‘no’; but you did tell him that the seatbelt had pressed into your shoulder hard. He nods and pulls his phone out to call for an ambulance and the police to come. You look at him with wide eyes. “We’re fine. We’ve traveled far and we should just unpack the car and get some rest. We’re both tired and I just want to sleep. I don’t want to go to a hospital.” You told him.

“Its still an accident. Even though its minor. The car is still drivable and the bumper is bent up but still attached to the vehicle. We still need to get checked out. I know you don’t like the hospital and I don’t like it either. But it’s the right thing to do.” He told you. Your eyes widened and you shook your head. "You can go to the hospital. I need to stay here and unpack the car." You spoke as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. "I know that's what you want to do, sweetheart but you need to get checked out too." He told you and kissed your head. You nodded and unbuckled yourself from the car to get out as Shouta made the call. A couple people already staying in the resort came down to make sure that the two of you were okay and that the car was okay. You needed to use the bathroom so you went up with your keycard and went into the room to relieve yourself. You wanted to stay in the room but you held onto your backpack and went onto the balcony to see the flashing lights and the emergency medical team coming off the ambulances and into the parking garage. You sprinted out of the room and rode back down the elevator to catch Shouta instructing the medical team to go into the elevator as that’s where you had gone. He caught your eyes and walked up to you. “Hey, Y/n. We’re going to take a ride on the ambulance to the hospital, okay? I’m going with you and I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’ll stick with you for the whole trip.” Shouta spoke and held your hand as he followed the EMTs to the ambulance and helped you in.

You got to ride in the back of the ambulance with Shouta in a chair not too far from you. As you rode, you asked the medical team questions after they took in your information and your list of symptoms and current symptoms and conditions you have so the people working at the hospital would know how to treat you. You and Shouta arrived at the hospital and got checked out. Once given the all clear, told that you might have some bruising and would need to rest up for the next few days, you got a taxi cab back to the resort. You helped Shouta unload the car and get all you needed into the room. You sorted the food into the fridge before you showered on your own to help yourself unwind and get the smell of the hospital and the trip off your skin before you crashed in the bed next to Shouta as he was watching a show to relax before sleeping. The next morning you stiffly got out of bed and nudged Shouta awake. “I’m going to go for a walk down to the lake. I’ll be right back.” You told him.

“Okay, be safe. I’ll make coffee for us by the time you get back.” He said quietly. You nodded and kissed him before you got up and got changed to go for a walk. You came back a little while later and set your backpack down on the ground and took your shoes off, flinging them into a distant corner of the room. Shouta stood up and walked to the front hall where he found you sitting on the ground and peeling your compression sleeves off and chucking them in the same direction that you had tossed your shoes. He sat with you and put a hand on your back.

“Hey, welcome home, Y/n. How was your walk?” He asked. You told him the cool things you saw and pulled a rock you had found on the road and showed it to him and he looked at the rock and told you that he found it cool as well. You rubbed your arms and leaned into him. Shouta let you move closer to him as he could tell you were overstimulated and needed help to calm down from the events of last night that were still lingering in the back of your mind. You leaned against his chest and he rubbed your back, he asked you what you needed from him and you said that you just wanted to sit there for a moment and listen to the rumble in his chest that sounded when he spoke and he nodded, humming a tune as you pressed yourself against his chest.

He held you close for as long as you needed until you pushed yourself away from him and went into your shared room to pick out the clothes you wanted for the evening and carried them to the master bathroom. Shouta stuck close to you and followed you into the bathroom.

“May I help you bathe?” He asked. You turned to face him and you nodded, giving him permission to help you out with cleaning yourself from the dirt, dust, and sweat from the day. Water was also a calming sensation for you so after a long day like what you had today would be a good thing to help you unwind. 

“Do you want a bath or a shower?” He asked. You hummed thoughtfully before responding. “Bath.” You spoke as you worked at taking your clothes off and tossing them to a far corner of the bathroom. Shouta went to the bathtub and turned the faucets on, stopping the tub, and letting it fill.

“Do you want my scent or yours?” He asked as he looked at the body washes that you brought with you to bathe with. “My scent please.” You spoke as you covered yourself with a towel and plunged your arms as far as they would go into the tub as it filled up with water. Shouta squeezed out some of the liquid soap into the tub and stirred it around with your help to make some bubbles. You purred and enjoyed the warmth of the water as Shouta stood up and took his shirt and shorts off, leaving his underwear on to your preference when you didn’t want to fool around in the shower or bathtub.  He tested the water before he slid into the water with his back against the end of the tub opposite the faucet.

“Alright, honey, time to get in too.” He spoke and you whimpered. You know that the water would be nice but you needed to ease yourself in to not overstimulate yourself again. You slowly pulled your arms out before you stood up and took your towel off, revealing you had your bathing suit on only to make it fair to Shouta since he had to cover up, you stepped into the tub one foot at a time and he braced your legs as you slid down into the tub and leaned up against him. Once you were settled, you laid against his chest for a few minutes until he began to run his fingers through your hair gently.

“May I wash your hair?” He asked. You whimpered but nodded. “Be gentle. Head is sensitive.” “I know, my love. I’ll do my best to be careful.” He spoke and had you sit up and away from him a little bit. You crossed your arms and leaned forward, almost away from him as he grabbed your shampoo and conditioner from the ledge of the tub where you had placed them when you first unpacked and got settled in the room. He began to wash your hair gently and massaged your scalp which you liked very much. You purred and leaned into his touch as he massaged at the ridges in your skull.

“You must have a bad headache, honey. I hope I’m not hurting you.” He spoke as he lightened the pressure of his massage on your scalp which you pushed his hands down on your head firmer. “Feels good. Don’t stop.” You told him and placed your hands back into the water in front of you as you played with the bubbles in the water.

He continued to massage your scalp until you had relaxed enough that you were almost limp against him. He wrapped his arms around you and let you lay against him between his arms. “Do you want to bathe yourself or can I?” He asked. “I want to do it.” You told him in a slightly childish tone.

“Alright, Y/n. I need you to sit up so you can bathe yourself.” He instructed. You hesitated and sat up. You grabbed your puff and body wash before you washed your body with Shouta’s help to wash your back. Shouta helped you rinse off and let you soak for a few minutes longer before the water began to grow cold. He rubbed your arm gently and helped you sit up.

“I know you don’t want to leave the water but I don’t want you to get sick from the cold. How about this, I’ll make us some hot chocolate and warm up your favorite blanket in the dryer for a few minutes while you get changed, okay?” He suggested you looked up at him and nodded a little when he mentioned hot chocolate. “Okay. I’ll wait for my blanket too.” You spoke as Shouta helped you out of the bathtub and wrapped you in a towel that was fluffy and warm before leaving you be to get changed so he could do the things that he said that he would do.

Once you were changed, you plopped yourself in front of the dryer that had a window to see inside the dryer. You watched your blanket go around in circles for the ten minutes that your husband set the dryer for. Shouta chuckled when he found you in front of the dryer watching your blanket spin and get warm while you waited and he handed you a mug with hot chocolate and marshmallows in it and you accepted the warm drink and took a sip.

Shouta sat next to you and you leaned into him as you felt the warming sensation of the hot chocolate spread throughout your body. You closed your eyes to rest for a moment until the buzzing sound of the dryer brought you back and you set your mug down before immediately pulling the door of the dryer open and shoving your upper body into the warm blanket in the dryer, letting out a satisfied humming noise. Shouta smiled and rubbed your back as you nuzzled the blanket.

“Should I leave you here with the blanket alone for a few minutes?” He asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes and looked back at him before shaking your head no. You pulled the blanket out and wrapped the soft and warm material around yourself before you stood up and carried your mug back to the bedroom where you set it on the nightstand and climbed into the bed and fixated the blanket around yourself so you were comfortable. Shouta followed you into the bedroom and crawled into his sleeping bag and moved to cuddle next to you. You turned on the T.V. and found a movie which the two of you enjoyed for the rest of the evening. The End.

[aheckinmess]

The Tiger Tango [Aizawa] (Angst)

(One-shot 21/? in a collection of My Hero Academia one-shots posted regularly on Saturdays - and sometimes Sundays.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Shouta Aizawa, Shota Aizawa, Eraserhead, Original Female Character(s), Ichijiku Aoki, Tigress, OC Considers Her Inner Self to Be a Tiger, Tragically This Tiger Got Kidnapped by the League, Because What Else Are You Gonna Do on a Saturday?, Protective Eraserhead, You Can See Endeavor in this Prompt if You Squint, Spinner Mentioned, Shigaraki is a Lil Bitch, But We Love Him Anyway, Also We Catch Him in the Feels, It Might be for Less Than Half a Second, But We Did It, Angsty Angst, Angst

Word Count: 1,625 words

Summary: Ichijiku has been trapped by the League for several days, and Shigaraki finally decides to hit her where it hurts. Will she end up losing herself to stay alive? Or will everything she loves become reduced to ash?

Ichijiku (Tigress)

My ribs ache as Spinner’s foot connects with it. There’s a resounding pop and I grit my teeth to keep from screaming. They can’t know the extent of my quirk. They know that my quirk is multi-faceted, but they don’t know what I can do aside from heal. I’m determined that’s how it will stay.

“You’re quite stubborn, aren’t you?” A familiar voice crackles. I instantly feel the need to clear my throat just listening to it. “No wonder Eraserhead hasn’t come to save you, yet. I’d be tired of the bullshit too.” 

I know what he’s trying to do, and it’s working. I refuse to retaliate, but I can’t deny the psychological blow that he delivers to me. It makes it harder to breathe, and exacerbates the pain rippling through my broken ribs. Tch, this guy’s right. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.

“Do you think he’s throwing a party?” Shigaraki continues, walking around me slowly as I flop onto my good side and grit my teeth. I hold my injured side and close my eyes as I’m forced to listen to him. “I bet the second you were gone he let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t have to deal with you anymore. No need to put up with your damn stubbornness, right? Doesn’t that piss you off?” 

No. I think. No, that hurts more than it pisses me off.

“Doesn’t it just rip you apart? Make you want to get revenge?”

Maybe a part of me…but I could never hurt Shouta. You don’t seem to understand that. I open my eyes and look at him with all the compassion my squishy heart can manage. Who hurt you?

Shock colors Shigaraki’s face and suddenly his foot connects with my face. I nearly yelp, but grit my teeth and swallow every sound trying to escape. I can’t afford to be weak right now.

“DON’T PITY ME!” He growls out, and I realize I’ve struck a nerve. Interesting. “Where were the heroes at when I was wandering the streets alone, huh?! What good did wanting pity do for me? No. You make me sick.” Another kick and my nose throbs. It starts running and I’m pretty sure it’s not from allergies. Especially from the rusty smell.

I whimper and wrap my arm around my waist, trying to hold myself together. I inhale sharply as he continues his psychological tirade. 

“God, I hope Eraser is at home laughing about all of the times he nearly threw you straight into our laps. That pitiful look really pisses me off; I bet it made him want to beat the shit out of you.” Another kick comes but this one is to my shoulder and searing pain ripples through it. My muscles ripple as I withhold a scream. “Though you’re not bad looking. That’s gotta be the only reason someone as cool as Eraser kept you around. You’d be amazed how much one will put up with for some good sex.” Oh, like you’d know, huh, Butterface? 

He nearly breaks me. All of these comments are illogical but nonetheless arrows stabbing directly into my heart. Stop it…I know Shouta deserves better but I’m trying my best. A tear threatens to fall down my cheek. No! Don’t you do it! You’ll give him what he wants! 

“Worthless. kick Disgusting! kick Why would he ever want you?! How’d you manage to convince yourself of that, huh?” He suddenly has his hand around my neck, a single finger disconnected from the others. “I bet I could disintegrate you to ash right now and he’d thank me for it.” He sneers.

My nose quivers and I stare directly at him. No matter how hard I try, I can’t find it in my heart to hate him. Not from the look on his face. Who hurt you? Is that why you hurt others? This isn’t how to fix it! 

“What do you think about that, Ichijiku?” His voice rumbles low and his eyes look wild, feral.

My heart skips as I realize something. He’s a tiger too. There’s no mistaking it. The crazy, feral gleam sets it off. Part of me yearns to reach out and squeeze him in a hug, even if it means my imminent demise.

You can’t let your guard down. Especially around a tiger. Answer him before you’re hurt again. How do we appeal to him? 

“I think…” I look up at him with glassiness in my eyes. “I think…I probably deserve it.” I whisper gently, gauging how he responds to it. His eyes soften just barely, but it’s something. “I think given how much of a fuck-up I am, he should thank you for it.”

“Heh,” He lets me go and I’m dropped to my knees. I exhale shakily as I look down, letting my hair curtain around me. “You’d fit right in here, you know, Tiger? We’re all a bunch of fuck-ups in this place.”

I imagine that’s his next course of action, to try and bribe or bargain with me to join the League. My thoughts are confirmed as he puts a hand under my chin to make me look at him. 

“Do you see this scar over my eye? The one over my lip?” He makes me look directly at him. On the surface, most might find him decrepit and repulsive, but I can only frown at the sight of so many scars. I nod, and he continues. “Touch them.”

I hesitate. His hand goes back around my throat, his eyes feral and…desperate? Scared? His eyes swim with a needy plea I can’t place.

“Touch. Them.” He growls out, and I gingerly reach a hand up to delicately trace over the scars. The raised skin feels just as callous as his cold words and harsh tone. Physical abuse, perhaps? But from who? Someone that made him feel as worthless as I sometimes feel, I’d wager. What brought him down this road? “There. You feel that? There’s a hundred other scars just like them all over this decaying body.” He hisses, voice laced with venom. 

“Who made them?” I ask softly, startled by my own voice.

“My goddamn father.” He growls out, eyes never leaving mine. “I was nothing to him. Nothing to anyone. Except Mon-chan.” He looks down and then back at me, the softness entering them for a split second again before they harden once more. “Take off my hood.”

Again, I hesitate. I’m scared of what this could mean. But I see his finger twitch and move my hands.

“Take it off. Slowly.” His voice is barely a whisper now.

I’m delicate and slow in my movements, survival instincts taking over as I comply. When his hood is finally down, I notice a few patches of thinning hair. He guides my hands to pat the top of his head.

“Hair torn out and pulled from being thrown around like a goddamn doll. Doesn’t that piss you off? Parents are supposed to care about their kids!” He roars out, grip tightening around my throat. “But you know about that…don’t you, Ichijiku?”

My heart stops and throbs at the truth behind his words.

Voices abruptly begin shouting down the hall and both Shigaraki and I look up, his hand leaving my throat and his eyes clearing. We got through to him. It was only a moment, but that means there’s still some humanity left inside him.

“Tomura, boy are we glad to see you! Nothing’s wrong, we can handle this! TOMURA, THEY’VE FOUND OUR HIDEOUT! THEY’RE COMING FOR THE GIRL! GRAB HER!” Twice screams down the hallway.

That’s all I need to hear. 

Shigaraki brushes the back of my shirt with all five fingers and disintegrates the collar, before I’m gone. I dart around Twice and down the hall - ignoring the burning in my leg - only to get yanked back by Spinner. I open my mouth wide and channel my inner Mic.

I unleash a scream with full quirk power to scare the shit out of every single one of them. “DOWN HERE!” My voice echoes down the hall.

As I wrestle with the many hands now trying to wrangle me, there’s another pop as my shoulder is dislocated. I hiss out my frustration, but it doesn’t make me stop fighting.

My limbs flail frantically before I see a beautiful sight.

A large man covered in flames followed swiftly by a familiar grey scarf. SHOUTA! Seeing him gives me more motivation and I roar before digging my nails into the man below me. 

Fighting whizzes by in a blur, but my brain suddenly focuses on when Shouta finally pulls me away from them. I’ve never been so glad to feel myself tightly wrapped in Shouta’s scarf. Because finally, I’m in his arms and curled up close to him.

“Eraser, there’s kids. They have kids here. You have to help them.” I whimper, eyes frantic but emotions subdued. “I have to–”

“You’re not doing anything.” He growls out. I can’t see his eyes past his goggles, but I feel their burn. “I’m getting you outside to authorities where you’re safe. I’m not losing you again.” 

There’s a flurry of shouting and limbs and curses, but in the end, Shouta gets me to an ambulance to get checked out and promises he’ll be back before he goes back to help the others. I’ve got several broken ribs, a broken leg, and a dislocated shoulder. There’s too much psychological damage for me to give an accurate account to the medical professionals.

All I know is that I don’t fall asleep until Shouta is back in my sights, safe and suffering only a few bruises and cuts. Only then do I allow myself the sweet embrace of sleep.

Want more Aizawa? Try: Stormy Salsa - Movie Magic

[granny-griffin]

OH i was also gonna say, interesting that aizawa “you’ll get too injured after saving one person” shouta is showing up now

[mooonpiess]

Sweetheart - EraserMic

Mic is injured, Shouta calls him a certain nickname and now thats all he focuses on.

962 words

(requests erasermic prompts and i will attempt to do them! its so fun!)

The pain was sharp and sudden.

Hizashi doubled over and heard a shout from a distance. The villain in front of him retacted his arm from Hizashi but was soon captured by Shouta’s scarf.

Hizashi couldn’t help but smirk to himself as his husband quickly took care of the villian. He groaned softly as he watched Shouta huff tiredly. He felt the world spin around him before he collapsed.

While on the floor, he was irritated more than anything that this was supposed to just simply be a shopping trip with Shouta and Hitoshi. They were just trying to get new shoes. Was that too much to ask for on their day off?

“Mic!” Shouta jogged the short distance to him. He got to his knees checking the wound on Hizashi’s abdomen. The store was cleared by mall security and he heard shouts from police for a medic.

Hizashi looked up to his husband, his eyes glossy. He simply just stared at the man, taking in his sweaty features. Shouta’s hair was still lifted off his shoulders and his quirk fizzed out, his pupils still a little red.

“Dad?” Hitoshi asked, trying to shove past the officers.

Shouta’s head snapped up as he heard his child’s voice, “Stay over there, Toshi!” He shouted. He noticed that he clearly didn't want to stay back, but evidently listened to his father.

Hizashi’s eyebrows furrowed as Shouta pressed a firm hand into the wound, “Stay with me sweetheart,”

Hizashi let out a soft laugh, “I like when you call me that,” There was a beat of silence and Shouta just pressed even firmer on the wound, before everything went black.

——————

Hizashi woke up with a start. He squinted as bright lights of an all too familiar hospital room hurt his eyes. The beeping by his bed sounded fuzzy and he couldn’t hear the buzz from the lights, so he knew his hearing aids were out.

He glanced to his right side and saw Shouta slouched in a wooden chair, his arms folded over his chest, sleeping. He noticed that his wedding ring was now on his finger and his eyebrows shot up, surprised .

He reached an arm out to gently touch Shouta, causing him to wake up startled, “Hizashi,” Shouta sighed, relief clear in his voice. Hizashi couldn’t hear him, but read his lips. Aizawa grabbed a box from the bedside table and slipped both aids in Hizashi’s ears, “Better?”

“Yeah,” Hizashi’s voice popped from the lack of use, “Shit. Water,”

Shouta stood too quickly and fumbled to get the water on the other side of the room. He brought Hizashi a glass, refilling it once the first was gone.

“Jeez…” He mumbled, “How long was I out?”

“Two days,” Shouta answered, “That blade went all the way through you. You’re lucky it missed anything important. Zashi I should’ve-“

“If you say you’re at fault I will divorce you, Shou. You were doing what you needed to do, and so was I. We’re pro-heros, love, we know what we were signing ourselves up for,” Hizashi cut him off.

Shouta looked to be deep in thought, fiddling with his wedding ring.

“I like that ring,” Hizashi changed the conversation, “Who got it for you?”

Shouta rolled his eyes and glanced down to the black band. He clearly was lost in thought again.

“Shou. Darling, I’m okay. I promise,” He said, “Now you know how I feel, you get injured every other week,”

“Not every other week,” Shouta slumped in his chair again.

“Shou. I’m fine,” Hizashi said once more for emphasis, “Plus, you called me sweetheart. That itself would’ve brought me back from the dead,”

Shouta couldn’t help but chuckle. He looked away from his husband, clearly embarrassed.

“Say it again, please? It’ll make me feel good as new,” Hizashi said, reaching for Shouta’s hand.

Shouta rolled his eyes yet again, “No, it’s only for near death experiences now,” The couple eyed each other wordlessly and then Shouta leaned down to kiss Hizashi squarely, “I’m glad you’re alright,”

Hizashi kissed Shouta again, “That’s my line,”

The silence returned as they soaked in each other’s love. both of their hands in contact with parts of their bodies, both of them occasionally lazily leaning in to kiss each other. Shouta trailed a hand through Hizashi’s long hair, “We should call Hitoshi. He was there… he saw you…”

Hizashi caressed Shouta’s cheek, “I’m okay, remember?” He noticed his phone sitting beside the bed, he picked it up and dialed his son’s number.

Hitoshi answered after a few rings, “Dad? Are you okay?”

“You sound just like your father, kid,” Hizashi laughed softly, “I'm peachy. A little sore but okay,”

“It looked scary,” Hitoshi’s voice was small. Hizashi could picture him fiddling with his hair as he talked, “Pa wouldn’t let me see you,”

“I wouldn’t want you to see me like this anyway, darling. I’m sorry you had to see what you already did. But I’m okay. We’ll be home soon, okay?”

Hitoshi hummed, “Auntie Numuri says hi and feel better,”

“Tell her hi for us okay,” Hizashi laughed softly, “I love you, ‘Toshi, see you soon,”

“Bye dad. Love you,”

Hizashi waited on the line for Hitoshi to hang up and sighed, “I hate getting injured,”

“I hate seeing you injured,” Shouta leaned towards him again, “You’re okay now, and that guy is already locked up. Focus on healing so we can go home to Hitoshi and Nugget. We all know she loves you the most, somehow,”

Hizashi laughed again, “Somehow,” He repeated. He reached for Shouta’s hand again, squeezing it, “Call me sweetheart again,”

“Just this once, sweetheart,” Shouta teased, watching as Hizashi’s eyes fluttered shut again.

“Thanks, kitten,”

Now it was Shouta’s turn to be flustered.

[im-just-confused]

Who caused it this time? (No one, actually) Chapter 1

A/N: hello, i posted this incomplete chapter on AO3 and i'm trying to get some motivation to finish it. tell me what you think! (please be nice this is my first time writing fanfiction).

btw Shinso replaces Mineta 'cause this is a Mineta hate club :)

prev || next

summary: All Shouta wanted was this one excursion. One time that this class didn't get themselves knee deep into shit. Obviously, that's not possible.

Or, Class-1A deserved a nice excursion for once, but instead, some kid's quirk went nuts and now they're playing 'who's got what quirk?'.

All Shouta wanted was this one excursion. One time that this class didn't get themselves knee-deep into shit. Obviously, that's not possible. There was some new hero museum opening and the class spent a week begging to go, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, All Might was the first to cave in.

Shouta knows something’s gone wrong the minute Toshinori’s name lights up his phone. He has no idea why he let Toshinori take the class by himself.

Shouta lets out a sigh, rubbing a hand against the growing ache in his forehead. The second he picks up his phone, all he can hear is disaster. There are explosions, there is a child crying, and somewhere in the background he can make out the frantic voices of his students. Shouta’s eyes widen for a moment, the ache in his head forgotten as Toshinori’s shaky voice sounds through his phone.

“Aizawa… I think I’m going to need some help with this one.”

And with that he hung up. He hung up. The idiot didn’t think to give any other information, sending Shouta headfirst into panic, his head rapidly producing thoughts of what might’ve happened to the class. Maybe he cares about these kids more than he’d like to admit.

The museum is 20 minutes from UA, yet with determination (and the breaking of a few traffic laws), Shouta made it in 11.

Out of all the scenarios that were concocted in his head, none of them even slightly resembled this.

Bakugou is yelling, which isn’t a surprise to anyone, but Shouta’s more focused the flickering lines of electricity dancing up and down his arms. Ojiro, Shouji, Sato and Mina are attempting to stand in various spots around the room and it takes Shouta longer than it should to realize why. I suppose it would be disorientating to gain or lose limbs, he thinks.

An explosion catches his attention, and he turns to see Yaoyorozu backed into a corner, looking uncharacteristically small. A wave of relief washes over her features as she sees Aizawa. She’s holding her hands so that they’re facing away from the rest of her body, the small pops in her palms are a clear indicator as to why. The most unnerving of the lot is Iida, who isn’t saying anything. Shouta has been subconsciously expecting Iida to be shouting orders, keeping everyone under control, yet he was just frantically chopping his arms around. Silently. And although everyone is panicking, no one seems to be injured and there don’t seem to be any villains around, which allows Shouta to take a breath.

Where the hell is Toshinori? Shouta pushes the thought to the back of his head and goes to take a step into the chaos when he hears a familiar voice call out.

“Aizawa!” He turns and faces the man himself,

“What the hell is going on?” Toshinori scratches the back of his neck, the act makes him look somewhere between sheepish and guilty.

“There was an accident.” Shouta just stares at him blankly, his headache springing back to life. When Toshinori doesn’t elaborate, he sighs and says,

“I can see that, but what happened?” and with that, a small boy, no older than 7, lets out a sob. Aizawa eyes the boy, then the blonde man in front of him who places a comforting hand atop the boy’s head. Toshinori sighs and his shoulders slump.

“It’s the boy’s quirk. He can swap other people’s quirks, but he can’t control it. He accidentally set it off and scrambled the class’s quirks. Luckily, there weren’t many civilians around and none of them were hit. However… none of the students can properly control the quirks they were just given”.