#injured aizawa shouta

[shoutaaizawaonlyfans]

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

Artist: Loxori

[writeriguess]

Hello how are you? can i ask you for an imagine or headcanons please with Aizawa and Hawks (and Dabi or Fatgum if you can and want) if you don't mind where his girlfriend Y/N who is a pro hero (top 10 and with a strong quirk) got in the way during the fight with Stain (or another vilain) and the students of UA and was found injured

Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead)

You were barely conscious when they found you. The sharp sting of pain in your ribs, the sticky warmth of blood on your skin—it was all secondary to the ringing in your ears. You could hear muffled voices, urgent and frantic, but the darkness tugging at you was persistent.

And then you felt him.

Rough, calloused hands gripping your wrist, checking your pulse. The shift of fabric as someone crouched beside you. Then—his voice. Low and steady, but frayed at the edges.

“Y/N. Stay with me.”

Aizawa.

You wanted to respond, to reassure him, but your body refused to cooperate. You felt a hand press against your cheek—warm, grounding.

“You better not fucking die on me.”

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

The steady beep of a heart monitor greeted you when you woke. Your body felt like it had been through a meat grinder, and breathing sent sharp pain through your ribs. The too-white hospital lights burned into your retinas as you forced your eyes open.

A figure sat beside your bed, arms crossed, eyes dark.

Aizawa.

His gaze snapped to yours the second you stirred. Relief flickered across his face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by something colder.

“You’re a damn idiot.”

Your throat was dry, voice raspy. “Good morning to you too.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Don’t.”

You swallowed hard. “Shouta—”

“You almost died,” he interrupted, voice eerily even. “In front of my students. In front of me.”

The weight of those words pressed down on you. You had seen Aizawa mad before—at reckless students, at irritating paperwork, at stubborn higher-ups. But this? This was different. This wasn’t just anger. It was fear, buried deep beneath his exhaustion.

You tried to sit up, but he immediately pushed you back down with a firm hand.

“Stay still.”

You exhaled, wincing at the tightness in your chest. “The students—”

“They’re fine.” His fingers curled into his sleeves. “They wouldn’t have been if you bled out in front of them.”

“I had to step in,” you murmured. “They’re still kids, Shouta. You know that.”

His hands clenched. “I also know that you’re not invincible.”

“I never said I was.”

“Then why the hell did you act like it?” His voice rose slightly, raw with frustration. “Do you even know what it felt like? Watching you drop? Seeing you covered in blood and not knowing if you were going to make it?”

Guilt twisted in your stomach. “Shouta��”

“You were reckless.” His dark eyes burned into yours. “And if I hadn’t gotten to you in time, I’d be sitting in a morgue instead of a hospital room.”

You felt the bed dip as he leaned in, elbows resting on his knees. His hair was unkempt, his under-eyes darker than usual. Had he even slept?

“I can’t do this,” he muttered, voice lower now. “I can’t lose you.”

Your chest tightened, but not from the pain this time. You reached for his hand, fingers brushing his wrist. He didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face before finally looking at you again. “Just… don’t do that again.”

“I’ll try.”

“That’s not good enough.”

You squeezed his hand. “I promise.”

Aizawa studied you for a long moment before sighing. He let his head drop slightly, his forehead just barely touching your arm. His grip on your hand tightened, grounding both of you.

“Good.”

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

Pain was the first thing you noticed. It radiated through your body in sharp, pulsing waves, making it hard to breathe. Your limbs felt heavy, your mind sluggish. Distantly, you registered the scent of smoke, the crackling of fire, and the sound of distant shouting.

And then—wings.

A gust of air brushed over you, followed by the rapid thud of boots against the pavement. A voice—frantic, desperate—cut through the ringing in your ears.

“Y/N!”

A familiar warmth wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly. You barely registered the red feathers encircling your body, supporting your weight as you were cradled against something solid and warm.

“H-Hey, stay with me,” the voice pleaded. “C’mon, baby bird, open those pretty eyes for me.”

You wanted to respond—to tell him you were still there—but your body refused to obey. The darkness pulled at you, and this time, you didn’t have the strength to fight it.

The steady beep of a heart monitor was the next thing you heard. The scent of antiseptic burned your nose, and your entire body ached like you had gone ten rounds with a Nomu. You forced your eyes open, wincing at the sterile brightness of the hospital room.

And then you saw him.

Keigo sat in the chair beside your bed, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed. His golden eyes were fixed on the floor, but his wings twitched with restless energy. The usual lazy smirk was gone.

You licked your cracked lips. “Keigo…”

His head snapped up so fast you thought he might get whiplash. His wings flared slightly, his eyes wide with something raw.

“You’re awake.”

You tried to smile. “That obvious?”

The reaction you expected—his usual teasing, a cocky quip—never came. Instead, Keigo surged forward, cupping your face between his hands. His touch was gentle, but his fingers trembled against your skin.

“You scared me,” he breathed. His voice, usually so light and carefree, was barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard. “Keigo, I—”

“No.” His grip tightened, just enough to keep you there, to keep you looking at him. “You don’t get to pull that shit on me.”

Your throat tightened at the raw emotion in his voice. “Keigo…”

“I saw you bleeding out,” he continued, his wings drooping. “You were lying there, and I—I couldn’t get to you fast enough.”

You knew he was fast. Faster than anyone. But even Hawks had limits.

“You got to me,” you murmured.

“Barely.” He let out a hollow laugh. “I’m the number two hero, and I still wasn’t fast enough. What the hell kind of hero am I if I can’t even protect the person I—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply.

Your heart ached at the frustration in his voice.

“You did protect me,” you insisted. “If it weren’t for you, I might not be here at all.”

Keigo shook his head, golden eyes flashing. “I should’ve been there—”

“Keigo.” You reached for his hand, your fingers brushing his wrist. He immediately caught your hand in both of his, gripping it like a lifeline.

The room was silent for a moment, save for the quiet beeping of the monitor. Keigo bowed his head, pressing his forehead against your knuckles. His hands were warm, but they trembled slightly against yours.

“I can’t do this again,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t lose you.”

Your chest tightened. You had seen Keigo flirt his way out of countless situations, had watched him laugh in the face of danger. But this? This was real. Unfiltered. Raw.

You squeezed his hand. “You won’t.”

He let out a shaky breath. “Promise me.”

You gave him the best reassuring smile you could muster. “I promise.”

Keigo exhaled sharply before shifting forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His wings curled slightly around the bed, as if shielding you from the rest of the world.

“You’re never scaring me like that again,” he murmured, voice low and steady.

You closed your eyes, breathing him in. “I’ll try.”

Keigo let out a breathless chuckle, his grip on your hand never loosening. “That’s not good enough.”

You cracked an eye open, smirking despite the pain. “I promise.”

This time, he smiled too. It was small, a little broken, but real.

Dabi

Pain clawed through your body like a wildfire, searing and unrelenting. The world around you was a blur of destruction—smoke curling into the night sky, the acrid scent of burned concrete and singed flesh thick in the air. The muffled sounds of battle were fading now, distant, like they belonged to another world.

You weren’t sure how long you had been lying there.

Somewhere in the haze, you heard boots scraping against the rubble. The slow, deliberate pace sent a shiver down your spine, even in your half-conscious state. Then, a familiar voice cut through the ringing in your ears, rough and laced with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Oh, hell no. You are not dying on me, sweetheart.”

The warmth of calloused hands ghosted over your cheek, tilting your head ever so slightly. A thumb brushed against your blood-smeared skin, just light enough to ground you.

You knew that voice. You knew that touch.

Dabi.

You tried to speak, but your throat was raw—probably from screaming. The only sound you managed was a weak rasp.

Dabi’s hands twitched against you. His movements weren’t rushed, but there was a tension in his body, coiled tight beneath his patchwork skin. His breath was uneven.

“You look like shit,” he muttered, but the usual sarcasm was absent.

You let out something between a laugh and a cough, pain flaring in your ribs. Dabi’s jaw clenched. His fingers curled into the tattered fabric of your suit.

“Dammit, Y/N,” he growled. “What the hell were you thinking?”

You tried to blink the blurriness from your vision, swallowing hard. “Students… they needed help…”

Dabi exhaled sharply through his nose. “Yeah? And who the hell was supposed to help you?”

Your body felt impossibly heavy, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. “Didn’t… think that far ahead.”

A dark chuckle left his lips, but there was no humor in it. “No shit.”

A moment passed. Then another. The distant chaos of sirens filled the background, but Dabi wasn’t moving.

Your vision cleared just enough to see his expression—his usual smirk was gone. His blue eyes, always filled with mischief or malice, were stormy, dark.

You had seen Dabi angry before. You had seen him cruel, amused, even amused at cruelty.

But this? This was different.

His jaw tightened. His fingers dug into your suit. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Your breath hitched. “You… care that much?”

Dabi let out a sharp laugh. “Don’t act so surprised, sweetheart.”

His voice was quieter now, rough around the edges. He glanced away for half a second, running a hand through his wild black hair. The soft glow of flames reflected in the staples lining his face.

“I thought you were dead,” he admitted. “For a second. And that second sucked.”

You exhaled a weak chuckle. “That bad, huh?”

His gaze snapped back to you, sharp and burning. “You think this is funny?”

The heat in his tone startled you. You had never seen him like this before.

“You don’t get it,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “You don’t get what it would’ve done to me if you actually died.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Dabi’s fingers traced the edges of your bruised cheek, his touch uncharacteristically soft. “I don’t do attachments,” he muttered. “Never have. They make you weak. But you?” He exhaled harshly. “You fucked me up, Y/N.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

“I don’t know how to do this shit,” he admitted, his voice raw. “I don’t know how to care about someone without it ruining me. But here I am, sitting in a pile of rubble, begging you to stay alive.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

Then, after a long moment, Dabi scoffed. “Tch. I probably sound pathetic.”

You mustered whatever strength you had left, lifting a trembling hand to cup his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your fingers—always running hot, like he was seconds away from burning the whole world down.

“You don’t,” you whispered. “Not to me.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable. Then, in one swift motion, he surged forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath was hot against your lips, his grip firm on your wrist.

“You’re not allowed to die,” he murmured. “Got it?”

You nodded weakly. “Got it.”

Dabi exhaled, his grip on you never loosening.

And for once, he didn’t try to hide the way his hands trembled.

Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fatgum)

Your body felt like it had been through a meat grinder. Every breath sent sharp pain slicing through your ribs, and your limbs refused to move the way you wanted. The ground beneath you was rough, littered with debris, and the distant sound of sirens barely registered through the dull ringing in your ears.

You had fought hard. Maybe too hard.

The students… you remembered them. You had jumped in before the villain’s attack could reach them. You knew you’d get hurt, but that didn’t matter at the time. You just needed to protect them.

Now, as the world around you blurred in and out of focus, you started to regret how reckless you had been.

Then, a shadow loomed over you. Heavy boots pounded against the broken pavement, followed by the sound of something massive shifting. A warm, familiar voice—usually so full of energy—was laced with something you had never heard from him before.

Panic.

“Oi! Y/N—! Stay with me, ya hear?”

You felt strong arms wrap around you, lifting you with almost ridiculous ease. The warmth of his body surrounded you, and even in your dazed state, you recognized it.

“Tai…” you murmured, voice hoarse.

His grip tightened. “Aw, hell—why’d ya have to go an’ do somethin’ so damn reckless?!”

You could hear the strain in his voice, the way it wavered ever so slightly. You had never heard Fatgum sound scared before.

“Had to… help,” you whispered.

Taishiro let out a sharp breath, adjusting you carefully in his hold. His usually cheerful expression was twisted into something pained, his brows furrowed, jaw clenched.

“Help? Y/N, ya almost died,” he gritted out. “What kinda help is that, huh?”

You managed a weak chuckle. “The good kind?”

Taishiro let out a deep, frustrated sigh, but his arms never loosened around you. You could feel the way his body trembled—something completely foreign for a man built like a fortress.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he muttered.

Your eyelids grew heavier, exhaustion tugging at you. You felt warm—safe, despite the pain—but you couldn’t fight the weight dragging you down.

“No, no, no—hey, don’t you go closin’ those eyes on me,” Taishiro warned, his voice low and urgent. “You stay with me, Y/N.”

“Tired,” you murmured.

“I don’t care,” he snapped, his grip tightening just a bit. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere, ya hear me?”

You forced your eyes open, just barely. Taishiro’s face was close to yours now, his expression raw. His usual grin was gone, replaced with something that made your chest ache.

You had seen him in the middle of battle, had watched him take brutal hits with a laugh, but you had never seen him like this.

“C’mon, sugar,” he pleaded, his voice softer now. “I need ya to hold on.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to focus. “I’m here.”

Taishiro let out a shaky breath, his arms adjusting around you as he pulled you closer. “Good,” he murmured. “That’s real good.”

The sirens were getting closer now. Help was coming. But Taishiro didn’t let go, didn’t shift his grip.

He just held you.

And for the first time in your life, you saw Fatgum without his usual smile—without his endless optimism. Just Taishiro. Just the man who was terrified of losing you.

“I got ya,” he whispered. “I got ya, Y/N. Always.”

And this time, you believed him.

[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.”

[athanza]

A Time For Us - part 2

Shouta Aizawaxfem!past-love hero oc (not self-insert)

Plot: Trying to cheer up her teacher, Eri manages to resurrect his long-lost love who died seven years prior while protecting him from a villain.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, angst, age difference (both adult), crying, fluff, referenced character death, not canon, romance, alternate universe, if I've missed any let me know! ♡

Warnings: Angst, crying, referenced character death, may tug at your heartstrings (sorry lol). Again, if I've missed anything let me know, I'm still relatively new to fic writing and tags etc.

This is a non-canon, stand-alone fic but the idea came to me and I had to write it. I hope you enjoy! ♡

Part 1 | Part 3

Part 2

The sound of nurses going room-to-room, moving to and from their patients woke her slowly. She squinted her eyes at the pain from the light that shone through the hospital window and sheturned her head away, wincing in pain at her stiff neck.

Her eyes fell on Aizawa, peacefully asleep in the chair beside her hospital bed and she smiled, but then, all of her memories suddenly flooded back. The image of Aizawa wounded, the villain charging towards him, her desperate leap to block the attack.

She jolted upwards with a gasp but was met with a sharp pain in her chest and left arm. She yelped, which woke up Aizawa, and he immediately leapt to her side.

"Saiyu!" He said. "E-easy, you were badly injured."

When she lay back down and the pain subsided somewhat, she looked over at him again.

"Shouta." She croaked, her throat hoarse. "What happened?"

His breath hitched, he had no idea how to answer that. He'd spoken with the doctors at length about how to approach the situation when she woke up so as to lessen the shock, but he still froze. He couldn't believe he was talking to her again, as if the last ten years never happened.

"Why do you look older? Did someone hit you with an ageing quirk while I was passed out? Are you ok?"

"No, I-...It's hard to explain."

"Try me."

There was that sass, the one she used when people doubted her, it was something she always saw as a shortcoming but he found it endearing.

She didn't really need him to answer. "How-...how long have I been asleep?"

He paused just long enough for her to get suspicious. "Don't worry about that right now, I need to send for a doctor."

"Shouta, tell me what's going on. Have I been in a coma?"

"No..."

"Why are you being so vague with me?."

The room fell silent, his eyes hid behind those messy locks of hair that she loved so much. He knew he couldn't lie to her, he was never able to in the first place, even when they were teenagers. She always knew something was up, no matter how well someone hid it, not that he was doing a very good job right now.

"You died." He said. "The villain's attack was too strong...you were unconscious and bled out before help could get to us... that was seven years ago."

For a second, the world seemed to slow to a stop and she forgot how to breathe. "So...how am I here?"

The door to the room slid open and the doctor walked in, startled but relived to see Sayu awake.

"You're awake!" He said. "That's good news! How are you feeling after that battle? You're lucky we were able to repair the damage."

"Doctor," Her tone had changed, she was even more serious now. "I know the truth...please, just tell me what's going on."

The doctor paused and looked at Aizawa, who gave him a subtle nod, though he still hesitated. "Mr. Aizawa is a teacher at UA High. He has a new student who has a regeneration quirk, she used it to resurrect you."

Sayu's eyes widened in disbelief. "She...brought me back to life?"

"Correct. She doesn't have very good control over her quirk yet so Mr. Aizawa was assigned as her ward, to use his erasure quirk if the need should ever arise, as he's the only person we know is able to control her quirk for her until she can control it herself."

"...I've been dead for seven years..." she thought.

"We wanted to break it to you slowly so that the mental shock wouldn't be so harsh on you. Eri used all of her energy to resurrect you, but she couldn't heal all of your injuries. Luckily, since you've been here, you've healed quite well, so I'll be able to discharge you today."

"Eri? Is that the girl who brought me back? Is she ok?"

Once again, her selflessness shone through, despite everything. Always worrying about others and not herself. She was the person Midoriya always reminded him of.

"Yes." The doctor replied. "She's still asleep right now. Her body isn't yet fully recovered from the complete depletion of energy, but she's fine otherwise. You don't have to worry."

Saiyu relaxed a little. "That's good."

She let out a small sigh of relief after her heart had been hurting, thinking that someone, a child, had given their life to bring her back.

"Do you have somewhere to stay once you're discharged?"

"She'll be staying with me." Said Aizawa. "We need to keep this out of the press for as long as possible, UA will be the best place for her until we figure out how to go about this."

She looked up at Aizawa, sensing a distance that wasn't there before, and it stung her heart a little.

He didn't know why he was being so distant, her being back is all he ever wanted, and yet here he was, somehow afraid to show her how much he loved her and how happy he was that she was alive. Why? What was holding him back?

"I'll send someone with the discharge papers for you both to sign. I suggest you both get some rest, young Eri will be asleep for some time yet, you'll be the first I call when she wakes up, I promise."

He was talking mostly to Aizawa with that last part but she was worried for the girl too. She could also tell that he cared for the girl, and remembering that he was now a teacher made her smile.

...

In a different room, All Might waited, along with Deku and the other classmates, all there to support Aizawa, knowing he would refuse to rest.

"How come you're staying hidden All Might?" Asked Kirishima. "She's your friend too isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is." He smiled solemnly. "But I sustained my injuries long after she passed away, she doesn't know about my current condition, and she has enough to process right now."

"R-right." Kirishima felt silly for not realising, but Deku flashed him a subtle, reassuring smile, and he relaxed.

"I can't even imagine what she's going through," said Ochaco. "what any of you are going through. Having a friend die like thay only to be brought back years later..."

"Fate can be terribly cruel, but also very kind, I guess this is one of those instances when she decides to be both." Said All Might as he sat, hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees, his head low.

The others sat quietly, waiting patiently for news from the doctor.

"You said Miss Yamada and Mr. Aizawa were classmates back at UA. Were they friends before then?"

"No, Saiyu was transferred from the business course in second year. At first, her quirk wasnt very strong, the teachers didn't see much use for her quirk in the hero course, but she trained hard, and when the board saw how strong her quirk had gotten in just a single year they approved her transfer right away."

"Wow." Said Ochaco. "It's a shame there's not more written about her, she seems like an amazing hero."

"She was incredible." All Might smiled. "All of them were scrambling to get good internships when they graduated, I had to compete with her somewhat, in a light-hearted rivalry kind of way. Internship offers or not, she was still one of my closest friends.

Once she discovered that she could make people feel her illusions as well as just see them, the offers flooded in for her. But even though she had her choice of where to go when she graduated, she picked the same agency as Aizawa. They worked well together, and they knew it. They wanted to stay as a team."

"I can't help get the feeling they were more than friends." Said Mina.

"They were in love. Neither of them had much of an eye for the spotlight, so they kept it on the down-low, but I saw how much they cared for each other. They were inseparable."

"So romantic." Mina gushed.

Ochaco's expression saddened. "That only means it hurt him a lot more when she died..."

The room fell silent.

"I can't speak for him," All Might replied, "but I could tell something broke that day, something so deep inside him that I couldn't do anything to help. It broke my heart seeing my friend like that."

His eyes began to well up again, but he felt Izuku place a reassuring hand on his back. "But you were there for him, and you can still be there for him now, that's the most important thing."

He blinked back his tears and straightened up a little, smiling softly.

The doctor came in not long after and told them the news.

"You know, you kids don't have to be here, you all need rest." Said All Might.

"As if we'd just leave you here on your own." Said Kirishima with a smile.

"He's right," Todoroki added. "We're not doing much here that we wouldn't be doing back at the dorm."

Deku smiled too. "We're staying with you until Eri wakes up and we know you're alright."

Again, All Might started getting choked up.

"Shota." He thought. "You have a wonderful class in these young heroes."

Part 3

[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 🫶

[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.

[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

ice skating with Touya - fluff/sfw

T. Todoroki nsfw alphabet - nsfw/smut

hcs on being in a healthy relationship - fluff/sfw

giving him princess treatment - fluff/sfw

Dabi x LoV!reader hcs - fluff/sfw

Dabi x Pro hero!s/o fluff hcs - fluff/sfw

roasting marshmallows w postwar!touya - fluff/minor angst/sfw

play wrestling w Touya - fluff/sfw/suggestive

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

somno w Keigo - smut/nsfw

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

[kawoala]

──── 𝓚𝑨𝑾𝑶𝑨𝑳𝑨’𝑺 𝓜𝒀 𝓗𝑬𝑹𝑶 𝓐𝑪𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑴𝑰𝑨 𝓜𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ♫

⌕ OVERVIEW. sorted by classes, pros ++ villains, along with a mini description of the fic. happy readings !! ❤︎

⤿ remember not to steal or claim my works as your own. please read this first before interacting!

bakugou katsuki : 勝己 爆豪 ╭ count. 6 ╮

planes, trains, & automobiles — f! reader. one bed trope. prohero! reader. timeskip! au. bakugou curses a lot. cuddling.

rain — f! reader. third year! katsuki. probably ooc. mentions of past trauma. spoilers!!! angst kind of but also not.

behind the scenes — f! reader. smau/traditional series. actor au. profanity. angst. temporarily archived.

mr. dynamight — f! reader. smau. dry texter!katsuki. reader has a crush on shinsou. fake date au.

part two.

happy birthday — f! reader. soft!pro-hero!katsuki bakugou. happy (early) birthday katsuki !! profanity. bad days. kirishima mentioned. gn!reader - no pronouns, but reader is wearing a dress. not proof-read.

denki kaminari : 電気 雷 一 ╭ count. 2 ╮

study group — f! reader. smau. angst, NO COMFORT. profanity. brain rot language. kamijirou.

don’t freak out — f! reader. smau. profanity. accidental confessions. brain rot language.

izuku midoriya : 出久 緑や ╭ count. 1 ╮

you like me — f! reader. smau. ooc! deku. villian attack. injured! reader.

shouta aizawa : 翔太 相澤 ╭ count. 1 ╮

capital b Bitch — f! reader. profanity. kitty!! this is short, sorry. i blacked out writing this. enemies to lovers. neighbors! au.

touya todoroki | dabi : 等や 轟 ╭ count. 1 ╮

cool cool cool — f! reader. smau. roommates! au. profanity. probably ooc.

[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.

[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.

[queen-of-gotham]

Chapter Nine: Moving Forward

Word count: 2,295

Find the entire chapter list here ✨

“Excuse me?” Hizashi says to his parents, his grip tightening on his daughter after what his parents just said. They couldn’t be serious. He refused to believe they were serious about taking custody of Haru. “She’s MY child.”

“Hizashi, we’re just trying to look out for what’s best for you and her.” His dad reiterated sternly before his mother cut in.

“Think about it. You would get to finish hero school, hang out with your friends, you could quit that silly radio station and just focus on your hero career. You’re so talented and you could really embrace that if you didn’t have to worry about a two year old.” She paused for a moment, leaning forward looking at him seriously as she reached for his daughter, but he shifted the little girl to his other side. “Your father and I have the means to be able to afford her a comfortable life, just like we did you, sweetie.”

“I’ve done just fine to this point, without your help.” Hizashi insists but his mom has a dry laugh as she looks away and shakes her head.

“Your mother has been watching Haru while you work and go to school for half her life.” His dad retorts and Hizashi lets a groan leave his lips.

“You guys didn’t even want anything to do with her for the first 7 months of her life!”

“We just wanted you to learn how to be responsible, honey.” His mom says and he rolled his eyes, standing up as he argued with them.

“I’m her father. You guys woke up one day and started acting like you freaking care about her when you don’t! I care about her, Shouta and Oboro care-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before he felt a hard fist impact his jaw, his glasses flying off his face and Haru’s shrill scared scream piercing the air.

“Don’t you dare talk about them caring! You’re teaching her all the wrong shit! We leave her with you and she’s going to think it’s normal for two guys to be holding hands and shit! You don’t think I saw that at the funeral!?” His dad yelled, fist still clenched at his side.

Hizashi immediately moved to check Haru making sure she was only scared and not injured by some aftershock of his dads punch. Once he was satisfied she wasn’t hurt he let her bury herself back into his neck, her little fingers gripping tightly into the hair at the nape of his neck, his hands protectively holding her to hisself before he calmly tried to respond. “Explain to me-“

“I don’t have-“

“EXPLAIN TO ME HOW AN ABUSIVE ALCOHOLIC GRANDFATHER IS BETTER THAN TWO DADS. IN WHAT WORLD IS THAT BETTER!?” Hizashi breathed heavy, seething, feeling his blood boil. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was holding his daughter he may have just hit his father back.

Hizashi could see the anger on his dads face as they locked eyes, and when he decided his dad wasn’t going to say anything back, and instead moved to throw another punch, Hizashi used his training from school to dodge now that he saw it coming. “If you hit me again with MY child in my arms, you’ll never see her again.” He said sternly, his voice calm as he steps back.

“Honey.” His mother gave a warning to his dad who relaxed his shoulders and Hizashi took the opportunity to step away.

-

The next couple weeks we’re tense in the Yamada home. Hizashi started taking Haru back to Mrs. Aizawa for her to watch 4 days a week and Mrs. Shirakumo kept her the other school day when the prior couldn’t.

Hizashi’s jaw ended up bruising which he passed off as sparring with someone while training, but he had told Shouta and nemuri the truth. Why he changed his childcare situation. And about his parents wanting to take his almost two year old from him.

“You’re not considering it are you?” Nemuri asked, leaning against the ledge of the rooftop, “letting your parents have custody of her?”

“Hell fucking no.” Hizashi said back without hesitation before taking a bite of his burger. “They made my life a living hell. I’ll be damned if I let Haru go through that too.”

His friends nodded in understanding, and he let out a heavy sigh, laying back on the rooftop. “If I can just make it through my last year, keep my head down, I should have enough to get an apartment by graduation.”

“After I graduate I can help with her.” Nemuri offers. Her graduation coming up, Haru’s second birthday and his and Shouta’s final school year starting in April. He could manage another 15 months or so.

“We could get an apartment together, after graduation.” Shouta offers and the thought had crossed Hizashi’s own mind at one point.

The two hadn’t discussed what had happened on his birthday, the kiss. Hizashi was sure Shouta had probably felt the same way, that they had only kissed because they were grieving. It was the moment and nothing more than that.

“Hell yeah, man.” Hizashi agreed excitedly, a grin on his face.

-

Unfortunately for Hizashi, once again his wishes to the universe fell on deaf ears. The school year had just ended. Nemuri was moving a couple hours away, and now he sat at his kitchen table, Haru securely in his arms as he stared at a bunch of paperwork infront of him and his parents and their lawyer at the kitchen table and he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“We will take you to court for custody if you don’t sign over your rights willingly.”

He stared at the papers in disbelief, words escaping him as his brain raced. He didn’t want to sign over his rights. He loved his daughter. More than he loved anything or anyone else in his life. He had been there day in and day out for the last twenty-three months. He hadn’t so much as spent a night away from her, and ever since Oboro died almost 9 months ago, she hadn’t even slept in her own bed. Given that was more for Hizashi’s sake than Haru’s. She brought him a sense of comfort and peace.

The little girl sat in his lap, looking up at him confused as she tapped his cheek. “Dada sad?” She asks. He’d been working on identifying emotions with the almost two year old now that he had her fully potty trained. A feat he had to thank Mrs.’ Aizawa and Shirakumo for helping him with. So when Haru saw the stray tear fall down her fathers cheek she was able to connect the action to the emotion, and Hizashi just never stopped being amazed by how smart she was.

“Yeah, Daddy’s sad, kid.” Hizashi responded to her quietly, his eyes leaving the toddler and focusing in on the paper work in-front of him.

“She won’t be calling you that after you sign those papers. We will treat her like our child and she will just be your little sister.” His mother added, and Hizashi held his breath for a moment before pushing the paperwork back on the table.

“I’m not signing this. Take me to court or whatever, but I know that i’m a good dad.” Hizashi’s words were firm as he let his eyes meet his moms and then his dads.

“You can’t afford court, you can’t afford a lawyer, hell you can barely diapers Hizashi.” His dad stated, pausing for only a moment before adding. “You’d never make it out there in the real world with her. Give her a damn chance and do the right thing. Just give her to us.”

“I’m stronger than you think.” Hizashi retorts and his dad laughs, shaking his head.

“Then try it. Get out of my house.” His dad said directly, leaving no room for argument.

“…what?”

“You heard me. Get out. If I bought it, it stays here. Your little gay ass can leave.”

“I’m not gay. You’re just-“ Hizashi was wordless for a moment, his mind racing again at all the entails for him. His parents didn’t care about him or his kid, they just wanted their way. “You’re really going to kick us out in the street?”

“Just you, Haru’s welcome to stay.” His mother says, once again reaching to try and take his child. He wished she’d stop that because he knew as soon as he handed her over he’d probably never get her back, so he tightened his grip on his daughter.

“We’ll leave.” Hizashi says, standing and adjusting Haru in his arms before going to his room to quickly pack a couple bags, being sure to leave anything he or his friends didn’t purchase.

“You’d rather make your child homeless than doing what’s best for her!?” His mother yelled from the door way, and Hizashi just ignored her.

“You’d rather her be homeless than letting her stay my child. That’s on you. Not me.” Hizashi says back, throwing the bags over his shoulder, glancing back at his guitar. He wanted to take it but it was originally his dads, who had gotten it from his father, but he knew that if he tried to walk out with it it would start something.

So instead he adjusted Haru who was holding her kitty and her baby blanket, moving past his mother and not saying a word to his father.

-

“What do you mean?” Mr. Aizawa asked bouncing Haru on his knee, Hizashi had just explained everything that happened with his parents and why he and his daughter had been sitting on their doorstep when they got home from having a family dinner.

“I’m sorry- I- I’m sorry. I just didn’t know where else to go. It would just be-“ Hizashi didn’t get to finish talking before Mrs. Aizawa pulled him in for a hug.

“It’s okay, don’t apologize. We will figure it out, okay?” She said softly, her fingers running back through his hair.

So Hizashi found himself in his best friends room, laying with him in his bed and silence wavered between them.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Sho.” He said quietly, his eyes searching his buddies.

“You didn’t know how you were going to be a dad and you’ve killed it at that.” Shouta countered, and Hizashi had to admit he had a point. “You put your mind to something and then you do it. You always seem like you’ve got it figured out. This isn’t going to be any different.”

Hizashi felt Shouta’s hand slip into his, giving him a comforting, reassuring squeeze.

“I wish you were a girl…” Hizashi spoke outloud, a thought he had fully meant to keep inside his head. Shouta’s eyes widened a bit at the statement but before a response from either boy could be made, Mrs. Aizawa interrupted from the doorway, Haru giggling in her arms.

“The Shirakumo’s are going to let you stay with them, Hizashi.”

Hizashi quickly dropped Shouta’s hand at the sound of his friends mothers voice, glancing back at her as she spoke.

“They offered. They want you and Haru there if you’re comfortable with it.”

Hizashi stared in disbelief, unbelieving that it had been that easy that they simply offered to take him and his toddler in, and the look must have shown across his face.

“Baby, you have people who care about you. I know your parents aren’t that great but us and the Shirakumo’s we want to help. Let us help.”

-

Hizashi sat in Oboro’s old room- his room now he supposed. The Shirakumo’s had finally felt comfortable to pack most of his things away, giving away some things to him and to Shouta, a couple things the boys passed along to Nemuri.

“Do we need to get a toddler bed for Haru?” The voice of Oboro’s dad pulled Hizashi from his thoughts. Looking up at him, he shook his head.

“Honestly sir, she just sleeps in the bed with me. I know it’s a bad habit or whatever but-“

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. Oboro would still climb into bed with us before…” his voice trailed and he cleared his throat. “I’ll tell you a secret, son. It doesn’t matter how old they get, they’re still your baby. As long as she wants to sleep with you, let her. You’re her safe space.”

Hizashi listened carefully, glancing down at the napping toddler in his lap, curled up with Oboro’s baby blanket that Mrs. Shirakumo insisted the girl needed. She had saved it for Oboro’s kids but since he wouldn’t be having any, she wanted the next closest thing to have it. ‘Oboro insisted Haru was his anyways’ the woman had added for justification. Not that Hizashi needed any.

“I’m serious son, I know it’s hard to see right now cause she’s still so little but one day she’s going to come into the house twirling and grinning ear to ear cause she’s got her first real crush and she’s just going to want to hang out with you and tell you all about it as long as she feels safe with you.”

Hizashi nodded, that concept seemed foreign to him, his parents would have never listened to his crush on Amber. Never would have let him crawl into bed if he needed to be comforted or something. But if what his friends dad said was true, then maybe things could be different between him and his own daughter. Maybe one day when she was older she’d trust him enough to keep him involved in her life. The thought made his heart happier than it had been in awhile.

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[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.

[ao3feed-erasermic]

Limiter

Use the related link post to read Limiter on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/66910918 by phantomessangel "You say you’re ready to be a hero, wholly committed to that cause of pandering foolishness,” All for One queried thoughtfully, voice soft, almost kind. “But are you really so willing to commit to emptiness and service to the ungrateful?” The man leaned closer to the boy. "Do you truly desire to align so wholly to your cause?" There was an amused snort as Izuku gasped for air, struggling, and clawing, blistering pain searing his senses. All for One only ‘tutted’ at the reply. "My dear boy,” He hummed, almost amused, “It is just bone for bone. Tear for tear. You must ask yourself this: Will you always stand so proud? Will you always play the sacrificial lamb so willingly?" There was another jolt as more electric shock waves coursed through him, making it difficult to see, to think. Izuku buckled under the strain, slipping to his knees, with All for One's laugh lilting overhead. Blood trickled from his mouth as he bit back a whine. All for One only grinned. "Or will you finally succumb and fall just as you ought?" Words: 11344, Chapters: 1/11, Language: English Series: Part 14 of Dad Drabbles, Part 2 of Heritage Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Midoriya Izuku, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Shinsou Hitoshi, Bakugou Katsuki, Sensei | All For One, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Yoichi | First One For All User (My Hero Academia), Shimura Nana Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Midoriya Izuku & Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Midoriya Izuku & Shinsou Hitoshi, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku & Sensei | All For One, Midoriya Izuku & Sensei | All For One & Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Midoriya Izuku & Past One For All Users, Midoriya Izuku & Yoichi | First One For All User, Midoriya Izuku & Shimura Nana Additional Tags: Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead | Dadzawa, Parental Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Protective Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Protective Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Protective Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Sensei | All For One is Midoriya Hisashi, Sensei | All For One is Midoriya Izuku's Parent, Injured Aizawa Shouta, injured midoriya izuku, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku-centric, Serious Injuries, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Fighting, Kidnapping, Mentioned Garaki Kyuudai | Ujiko Daruma, Hurt Midoriya Izuku, Hurt Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Character Death, Heavy Angst Use the related link post to read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/66910918

[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.