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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

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yandere!EraserMic x Reader

Mic skips a couple of steps and brings their darling home earlier than planned.

18+ only

tw: mention of blood, kidnapping, restraints

Hizashi felt panic bubble up his throat as he aggressively ran his fingers through his hair. This wasn't good, he wasn't good. He fumbled around trying to pull out his phone so he could message Shota.

-Sho, when are you getting home???

Probably in a few hours...-

why-

Shaking, the blonde continued:

-I brought her home

Hizashi was convinced he'd burn a whole in the rug with his pacing. Staring at his phone screen it looked like Shota was responding, then it stopped, started, stopped, and started. Finally after what felt like forever he got a simple reply:

I'll be home in 15 -

---

"Mic, what did you do?" Aizawa sighed. The grumpy man intended to scold his partner but he couldn't bring himself to do so when Mic was so close to a full on panic attack.

"She agreed to meet up with her ex, he was talking about getting back together and I panicked."

Aizawa sighed; he understood where his partner was coming from. Even though Hazashi had abandoned their plan to wait, he was no longer surprised by Mic's actions. There was an understanding between the pair as the atmosphere softened.

Mic lead him down the basement stairs, instead of using the overhead light there was already a dull glow from nightlight that allowed the Pro Heroes to see well enough. On the bed in front of them the comforter rose and fell along with the breath of their darling.

"She should be asleep for another hour or two," Mic whispered. "I only cuffed one wrist to the bed, I figured without her quirk she won't be too troublesome."

Aizawa lovingly rolled his eyes. His partner was such a softy. Nodding in agreement he moved the blanket aside to see the clunky metal quirk-cancelling cuff encircling her ankle. The two had plenty of equipment from their jobs that allowed them to make a "safe" space for their girl.

The couple had stumbled across you on accident; you worked at the new cat cafe that opened near their home. The two quickly became regulars and you snagged their hearts when you recognized them as cafe regulars. They went every Sunday, you had their orders memorized and even told them which cats seemed to miss them the most. Hizashi fell hard and fast. It wasn't until Aizawa found you crying in the ally after one of your shifts that your fate was sealed. You told him that one of the cats ran out of the cafe earlier that day got hit by a car. Learning about the death of a cat wasn't the only thing breaking his heart.

When he got home that evening he told Hizashi. They both agreed that you needed to be protected, shielded from the pain of reality, and never subjected to cat-death-by-car ever again. Essentially they baby proofed their home for you. Anything dangerous (from silverware to chemicals) was locked away. Eraserhead installed cameras throughout the house that streamed to both of their phones. The windows were locked and shatter resistant and they even installed a top of the line security system.

Then came the stalking, both kept tabs on you - in their minds they both casual about it. Aizawa even visited you (broke in) one night to bug your phone. This was how the learned about your ex. The breakup was amicable enough that you two occasionally checked in on each other. After all, you had been together from middle school all the way through your teens. The two of you just wanted and were ready for different things.

---

Sure enough, two hours later they could hear your faint scream travel up from the basement. Mic had taken care of the acoustics, of course. He made sure that not a peep could be heard from outside of the house; even before you were in the picture this was in place for his quirk. Between each floor of their house he also added sound minimizing flooring and installation. They needed to be able to hear you but also maintain their sanity.

"M-mr. Yamada? Mr Aizawa?"

Your wide eyes were filled to the brim with tears. As Mic sat on the edge of the bed you withdrew as far as you could from him.

Aizawa seemed more conscientious of your space; instead he knelt in front of the bed so he was at least on your level.

He was the first to speak, "There's no need to scream, y/n, you're safe here. It's just Zashi and I."

The tears finally spilled over. You tried asking them to let you go, that you wouldn't say anything. You told them you had work this evening (even if you didn't) and that they'd know something was wrong if you didn't show up. What made it worse was that the men just kept nodding, taking in every plea you made.

Finally Mic cut you off, "You don't have to worry about work anymore, me and Sho are gonna take care of you, it'll be great. We won't have to wait a whole week to spend time together."

"You can't," You hiccupped, "this is illegal. Once they find out you'll be in trouble."

It was as if they didn't hear you. Mic just kept rambling about what you three could do together and how perfect everything was and how you'd love living with them.

Aizawa on the other hand sighed and indicated to Mic that he should get off the bed. "It's a lot to take in right now, new environments can be scary. You should get some more rest, Zashi gave you a pretty strong sedative."

That explained the pounding in your head. You didn't bother to keep yelling as the ascended the stairs. Instead you focused on not crying. You kept telling yourself that now wasn't the time for tears. You needed to get away from your abductors. You had never been in handcuffs before, you tried pulling against the bed frame in hopes that something would give way. As you expected, nothing really happened. The cuff was secured tightly around your wrist and with every pull came a dull pain in your hand. There wasn't anything useful within your reach.

After crying on the bed for what felt like an eternity you were all out of tears. You thought back to a movie you saw last summer, this detective was cuffed to a furnace and he pulled his hand free. However, that guy definitely lost the flesh on his hand and probably broke something. Your stomach churned at the thought. Then your mind wandered to terrible things the men could do to you. What if they were cannibals? Or wanted to sell your organs on the black market? Weighing the pros and cons you began to pull violently away from the bedpost. The metal dug into your skin and you couldn't help but scream. Hopefully your captors wouldn't come until you were free. There was a small window at the very top of the adjacent wall maybe you could squeeze through.

The searing pain became too much and you stopped to collect yourself. There were already gashes along the base of your wrist and blood coated the handcuffs. You stifled a cry as you resumed your work. You let out a blood-curdling scream when you felt a pop. Instead of freedom, you felt even more trapped. Your thumb looks wrong and looked like it was caught half way in the handcuff and halfway out. Movies make everything seem so much easier.

Light poured in as the door to the basement opened. Panicking you concealed the evidence under the blanket. Both of your hands and parts of your clothes were painted with blood.

"Hey kitten," Aizawa cooed. "We brought you some water. Are you feeling any better."

It was Mic who noticed first. You flinched as his hands cupped your face, his thumb ran along your cheek and you felt something slick.

His voice was rushed and panicked, "Sweet girl, this is blood. Shota come here, y/n is bleeding."

The blonde man handles your face and neck trying to find the source of the bleeding.

You pulled the blanket tighter, "I'm okay, please let me go."

Then Aizawa noticed the specks of blood on the sheets. He tugged at the blankets until you couldn't hold on any more. You were really only holding on with one good hand. You couldn't recall seeing that much emotion on his face in the past.

"Mic go get the first aid kit, now," Eraser's voice was strained and quiet but it sent the other man scattering up the stairs. He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the cuff. Instinctively your cradled the hand to your chest, crying for the umph-teenth time that day. The scruffy man pulled you on to his lap, cradling your head to his chest like you would a child.

"You're okay, Mic's gonna get the first aid kit and we're gonna get you all taken care of."

When it came to flight or fight involving direct confrontation, you chose the third option: freeze. You focus on your breathing as the man continued to soothe you. You could hear Mic nearly throw himself down the stairs as he made his was back to your side.

Mic was gentle with your wound, after cleaning the blood off the cuts were visibly deep but not as bad as it seemed. Aizawa told him that it looked like your thumb was dislocated and that he would fix it once the bleeding stopped.

As Hizashi continued to apply pressure you were able to hear him sniffling as he held back tears of his own. Aizawa reached over to comfort Mic as he continued his fawning over you, "You're safe, everything's okay now. We should've known that you would get scared, all by yourself down here. We won't leave you alone again, especially while you're adjusting to your new home."

#yandere erasermic #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic #yandere aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yanderes x reader #yandere erasermic x reader

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ao3feed-hitoshi-shinsou · 3 years

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The Birds and The...Cicadas

The Birds and the...Cicadas by ikely9

Six year old Hitoshi is scared of nothing, Papa Hizashi can confirm.

Another one shot related to Baby Hitoshi! Can be read alone.

College is almost over which means more time to write~

Words: 349, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Baby Hitoshi

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Shinsou Hitoshi

Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Shinsou Hitoshi, Shinsou Hitoshi & Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

Additional Tags: Family, Home, Parent-Child Relationship, Childhood, Bugs & Insects, Phobias, Birds, Animals, Cute Kids, Kid Fic, Parenthood, Elementary School, Cute, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Adopts Shinsou Hitoshi, Adopted Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead and Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Adopt Shinsou Hitoshi, Parental Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Married Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Established Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Protective Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Minor Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Adopts Shinsou Hitoshi, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Protective Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead is So Done

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37007263

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Shinsou #♦#Erasermic·#Hitoshi Shinsou #A:Ikely9 #Dadzawa #Dad Mic

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cheeriecherry · 4 years

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Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [5/9]

EraserMic x Reader

Part 5/9

Warnings: brief descriptions of violence (not graphic), fluff, kissing, boyfriends x2

You’re surprised when his lips touch your own, even though you’d been expecting it. He’s softer than you imagined, warmer, and more pliant. He melts into as the kiss deepens, cupping your jaw so gently you can’t help but feel the tenderness he has for you.

You stay like that for a few moments, close enough to share breath and feel each other’s heartbeats.

When you part, you’re out of breath. His eyes are half lidded, and your shirts are slightly rumpled, but you remain entangled with each other, his forehead coming to rest against your own.

“Can I tell you something, sweetheart?” He asks, soft and quiet.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, smiling. “You can tell me anything.”

He pecks your cheek a couple times, lips trailing down over your jaw. “Shouta’s in love with you, too.”

You’re less startled with the statement than you thought you’d be. Looking back on all your interactions with the man, you’re not sure how you didn’t see it sooner. He showed care for you much in the same way he did with Hizashi, always going out of his way to try and make sure you were okay.

“He didn’t even try to hide it, did he?” you wonder. “I was just that oblivious?”

Hizashi laughs, joyful and melodious. “Don’t worry about it too much. He kept it under wraps in highschool, so it really only looked like natural friendship progression.”

“He’s liked me since high school?”

“Yeah,” he grins, “he had so much trouble talking to you he was so shy. I told him I’d help him get to know you better, since you were my best friend.”

Your heart swells as you think back to your teen years; Hizashi insisting you get to know Shouta, talking him up and telling you what a cool person he was. And you, pushing through the awkward conversations with him because you wanted to make Hizashi happy (only to later find out that he’d been right, and Shouta was a cool person. And a good friend).

“‘Course, I was hella jealous when you started spending more time together. I thought ‘did I seriously just set the love of my life up with another guy’. Because seriously, what kind of teenaged boy does that?”

You listen fondly as her rambles, a habit he’s had since you were kids. Whenever he was excited about something -or just excited in general- he was an endless chatterbox. He could go on for hours if you let him, talking about everything and nothing. Most of the people he knew had expressed some amount of annoyance over it, you knew, but you? You loved it.

“Then finally in our third year, Sho and I had a sleepover and got into my parents’ sake. I...accidentally told him I had a crush on you, too.” He droops ever so slightly, looking sad. “I think he gave up on you after that. Thought I had a better chance than he did.”

You tug gently on Hizashi’s hand, pulling him down to sit on the couch with you. “Honestly,” you admit, “at the time, he would’ve been right. I didn’t realize I loved him the way I did until the three of us rented that shitty apartment together.”

“Oh god, the one above that old dive bar?”

“Yup. I got hassled by some drunk guy on the way up one night, after a shitty patrol, no less. Shouta overheard, and basically jumped out the window to beat the shit out of the dude.” You snicker, “I had to pull him off the guy. Then he ran me a bath when we got in, and made actual noodles for supper, instead of the instant ones we lived off of. Just to make me feel better.”

Both of you are overcome with fondness, thinking about all the little ways Shouta had taken care of you over the years. Hizashi reclines against the arm of the couch, and you scoot closer to lay across his chest, where he drapes an arm over you.

“It...hit us really hard when you left,” he says, turning melancholy, “but it pushed us closer together. It was scary at first, realizing how deep our feelings for each other actually ran, but I haven’t regretted it a single day we’ve been together. Even when we fight, or argue, or just bug the crap out of each other.”

Guilt niggles in your heart, and you push yourself a little harder against him. “A part of me wishes I’d never left,” you mumble, “the sad part, the lost part, the scared part. But I’m also glad something so good came out of it. Is that weird?”

He pets your hair idly, curling the stands around his fingers and stroking against your scalp. “I don’t think so,” his tone is honest and light, “I think it’s important to find the silver lining.”

You consider his words carefully, as you fall into a comfortable silence. With all these feelings aired out, did it mean you had a chance with them? After so many years, and so much grief, was it possible? Did you even deserve it?

Shut up, you tell yourself, I don’t care what I think I deserve. I care about what I want. Who I want.

“‘Zashi, when Shouta gets home tonight…”

“I want to tell him everything. I want...us. The three of us.” There’s worry in his voice, the slightest of tremors, but for once you think you’re less concerned than he is.

“It’ll work out,” you tell him. “If he feels the way you say he does, then it’ll work out.”

Neither of you say anything after that, drifting slowly in and out of sleep, while some strange netflix series plays in the background.

----

You rouse from your slumber when something clatters in the other room. Your mind instantly jumps to ‘break in’ when you see Hizashi still asleep beneath you, but when you move to stand, you find that someone has draped a blanket over you both.

You glance at the wall, surprised to see the hands past midnight. Had you really been out that long? A solid ninety minutes without a single nightmare? You smile down at the blond after you extract yourself from his grasp, brushing his hair off his forehead to place a small kiss there.

Moments later, you find Shouta in the kitchen, dumping remnants of all the leftovers into one frankenstein-esque bowl. You remain in the doorway for a little bit, watching him float back and forth between the fridge and the counter.

He tenses when he catches your reflection in the door of the refrigerator, just for a brief second, easily missed to the untrained eye.

“It’s rude to stare,” he says, devoid of any malice.

You bite back a smile, giddiness rising in your chest.

“I love you,” you tell him.

He startles for real this time, and looks at you with wide eyes, wider than you’d ever seen, with a dusting of pink rises to his cheeks. It’s a good look on him, you decide, storing the image away for later.

“Something happened today, didn’t it,” it’s not phrased as a question. He composes himself after your words have set in, turning back to the atrocity that is his dinner.

“Hizashi kissed me earlier,” you admit, “and then we had a long talk. About feelings.”

“Gross.”

You hide a giggle. “You’re not mad?”

“Hardly,” he shrugs, and you don’t detect any dishonesty. “We’ve talked about it before. Our...feelings for you. I assume he spilled everything?”

“The whole cup of tea.”

“God, you’re picking up on his language habits.”

You laugh for real this time, unable to contain it any longer. Shouta deadpans at you, and shoves his food in the microwave while he waits for you to collect yourself.

Eventually you do, wiping the fainest tear from the corner of your eye. “I can’t believe people think you’re not funny. Your sense of humour is arguably better than mine.”

“Maybe you’re just wearing rose tinted goggles,” he suggests, leaning casually against the counter. “It’s a real thing, you know. When you like someone, you see them as better at something than they really are.”

You roll your eyes and meander over to him. Close like this, you can see that his cheeks are still flushed and his pupils are blown wide. He looks tired, as per usual, but you know he’s alert and that all his attention is on you.

You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his shoulder. “So what do you think?” you ask.

“Of what?”

“Of us. You, me, and Hizashi?” You peer up at him while he thinks about it, a soft crease forming in between his brows.

“Truthfully,” he replies, “I didn’t think it was possible. ‘Zashi and I thought we were good and over you, but the moment you hugged us in the airport, I knew we weren’t. So we talked about it later, after you’d fallen asleep.”

“And?”

“And we decided that we didn’t want to add more stress to your life by asking you to choose between us. If you confessed to either of us, then we’d go from there, but…”

You squeeze him gently, prompting him to look down at you. “Did you never humour the possibility of the three of us together?”

The blush on his face darkens considerably, and he fights the urge to avert his gaze. “I didn’t think it was possible,” he mumbles, “The chances of you liking one of us were already pretty slim, but both of us? I was being logical.”

“You were being dumb.”

You reach up and pinch his cheek, tugging slightly until he grumbles and shakes you off. He catches your wrist as you move, and you can’t help the flutter in your chest at the feeling of his warm hand wrapped around you. A flutter that only increases when he brings your palm to his lips to lay a kiss on it.

You twist slightly, enough to lay your fingertips against his face, gently tracing the scar beneath his eye. “After everything we’ve been through together, how could I not love you both? Adore you both? The two of you, the thought of coming home... it’s what kept me going. Even if you didn’t want me, even if you hated me, just getting to see your faces again...it saved my life.”

He stares at you for a second, more tender than you’d ever seen him. He releases your hand in trade for your face, holding you in place while he stoops down and captures your mouth.

His lips are warmer than Hizashi’s, more plush, though slightly more chapped, and the way he kisses you is nothing short of intense. Years of longing and repressed feelings are poured into it, only emphasized by the way he holds you close.

You clutch at his shirt, pressing back against him with equal fervour. He’s hot and solid, his presence safe and comforting. He’s not much taller than you, but held like this you feel like a doll in his hands, tiny and precious.

You whine when his tongue teases at your bottom lip, asking you, begging you, to return. You part your lips slowly, mouths meshing again so your tongues can slide against each other. He groans then, a low rumble in his chest that you feel more than hear. It stirs a spark of warmth in between your legs, the beginnings of arousal making you tremble beneath him.

“Now, that is a nice sight to wake up to.”

You and Shouta freeze when Hizashi’s voice sounds from the doorway, utterly full of mischief. You suppress a whine when your kiss is broken, settling on a pout instead.

“We were talking,” Shouta says.

Hizashi raises a thin brow, trying his best to keep the corners of his mouth from quirking up. “‘Talking’ huh? Is that what the kids call it nowadays? Because back in our day, it was just called ‘making out’.”

He cheers quietly when Shouta’s face -somehow- becomes even redder, and you avert your gaze to hide a smile. Hizashi at least seems to be in a better mood than before, his earlier stress over your impending doom less visible; shoulders more lax, eyes less frantic. He was still drowsy, you knew, but maybe now he’d be able to discuss it rationally.

Until he says, “You’re taking this surprisingly well, Sho.” and your stomach drops. “Not gonna lie, I’m still pretty messed up about it. No one likes knowing their girlfriend got visited by the elusive Oracle, but if you’re this calm about it then you’ve obviously got a...plan…?”

He trails off, glancing back and forth between the two of you. The guilt and panic in your expression, the desperate anger budding in Shouta’s.

“You didn’t tell him?”

You throw your hands up in surrender, taking a step away from the two of them. “I was getting to it!” you promise, “I was starting with the ‘I love you’s and was gonna end with the ‘untimely demise’ bit.”

“You’re not going to die-”

“Don’t bother, Sho,” Hizashi cuts him off, “we’ve already had this conversation.”

His tone is bitter and sad, biting like venom into your heart, the same way Shouta’s furious expression does. This was why you’d started off with the good stuff; everything bad would have ruined it from the start.

“You’re not seriously going to just walk into your death, are you?” He’s exasperated, and rightly so, but the crack in his voice screams ‘please tell me no’.

You sigh. “I’ll tell you what I told Hizashi. If I don’t face this now, when I have the upper hand, I’m going to be running for the rest of my life.”

“From what?”

“Akuma.”

Shouta freezes. Where the name had meant nothing to Hizashi, it’s struck a chord with him, and you notice it.

“You know the name, don’t you?”

He nods, expression carefully blank.

“Then you understand why I have to do this now, while I have the chance?”

Another nod.

Hizashi looks like he wants to explode, but Shouta gets to him before he can say anything. “I’ve seen the aftermath of Akuma, ‘zashi. People hunted down decades after they thought they’d escaped, their families destroyed. Akuma is unrelenting, persistent, and unpredictable.”

You take a few steps closer to the blond. “And I’ve got a clue about where she’s going to be, and when. Do you get it now?”

Hizashi’s shoulders fall and his posture relaxes, as your plan clicks in his head. “You’re gonna ambush her. God, I feel stupid.”

“Don’t,” you tell him, reaching out to link your fingers together, “it’s hard to think when you’re scared.”

He sighs deeply and yoinks you closer, capturing you in a hug. “We’ll have to work fast, then. Two weeks isn’t a lot of time to plan something as big as this.”

A moment later you feel Shouta’s hand against your back. “We’ll manage. Right now, though, we’re all exhausted. No good to anyone.”

He’s right, you realize. You can already feel the heaviness in your limbs, and the fogginess of sleep beginning to return. The two of them aren’t faring any better, either.

Shouta gives you both a kiss, lingering a little longer than would be considered chaste, and wanders out of the kitchen. You smile as he goes, and once he’s out of sight you turn your attention back to HIzashi.

He catches your face in his hands, holding you fast and firm to nudge his head against yours. “Promise me you won’t ever stop fighting?”

You lean into his touch, gazing up at him happily. “I promise,” you tell him, and it’s one you intend on keeping.

Ten minutes later, the three of you are crammed onto a king sized mattress, limbs entangled, hair in faces, snores in ears. Despite all that, it’s comforting and reminiscent of the way you used to be; carefree and content and so, so in love.

You fall asleep easily.

----

You awake alone the next afternoon, rumpled and groggy, with a mouth that feels like it’s full of cat litter. You crinkle your nose at the sour taste and roll out of bed, stretching on the way to the bathroom. Despite the previous nights’ cramped sleeping arrangements, you feel surprisingly rested. Moreso than you have in months.

Even when you couldn’t remember your nightmares, they still left you waking to a sense of fear and panic. Today, though? Nothing. No extra anxiety, no overwhelming exhaustion, no desire to lay on the couch and do nothing. You felt...good.

In the bathroom, you find a note taped to the mirror. You open it while you brush your teeth, smiling when you recognize Shouta’s handwriting.

‘Y/N,

If you’re able to, try and find Oracle. Get as much information as you can from them. If they’re worried about getting involved with pros, tell them not to. We’re not going to bother them, since they’re not technically doing anything illegal.

I’ll be in contact with some people this afternoon, who’ll be able to help us with Akuma. Hizashi’s going to call in a few favours. We’ll take her down. She won’t get away this time.

Take care of yourself, okay? If you need anything, call me.

-S’

You smile at the note, particularly at Hizashi’s doodle of a cockatiel and a cat (which he’d probably added when Shouta wasn’t looking). If they were going to do their parts in hatching a plan, then you were going to do the same.

You finish brushing your teeth and wander out to the living room, where your phone and laptop are still laying on the coffee table. You check your phone for messages, finding none, and turn your attention to the computer.

Oracle was just a kid. A kid in a beat up hoodie, and a pair of shoes ungluing at the soles. They could technically be from anywhere in the city, but you had a feeling they might be from one of the more downtrodden neighborhoods.

You open a map of the area in an internet browser, singling in on both spots you’d met with the vigilante. As you’d suspected, they were in close vicinity to each other, and within the bounds of the only run down area for forty blocks.

You’d previously met them during school hours, but who knew if they’d be in class today? You best bet would be to check the area out, ask around to see if anyone knew anything, and see what you could find.

----

You feel utterly defeated, sitting on a bench in the dark like you are. A dull streetlight flickers above you, casting strange shadows on the ground. You stare at them, frustrated.

You’d been wandering around the streets for hours, first seeing if you could find Oracle out and about, and when that didn’t work, you’d settled on going door to door. It had been a fruitless effort, in the end. Most people either didn’t know who the kid was, or they hadn’t seen them in a while.

You knew for a fact that some of them had been lying, which was annoying albeit understandable. You were glad that kid had some many people looking out for them, even if it hindered your ability to get information.

Sitting alone like this, you half expect Oracle to materialize beside you, but after a few moments of waiting and no dice, your thoughts begin to drift. First to Shouta and Hizashi, and how their days went, then to the disappointment that was your afternoon. Eventually, you end up on Akuma.

For someone you’d only met a handful of times, she was playing a much bigger role in your life than you expected. While you had been working as her personal assassin, most of her order had trickled down to you through your ‘handler’. He’d been your partner on the mission, a companion to save your ass if you fucked up.

The more you think about it, the more you realize you never actually knew that much about the guy. Despite your close quarters undercover, you’d never had time to be friendly. The underground was littered with eyes and ears, always listening. Becoming too close would have been a liability, so you’d pretended, acted distant and borderline cold towards him, played the part perfectly.

Akuma sniffed him out about eight months before the end of your mission. One too many kill orders ignored, too much information leaked in too short a time period. She caught him in the act one afternoon, and had him trapped in her tar before he could react.

She’d dragged him to the center of the warehouse, calling everyone around. “See this?” she’d said, nudging your partner with her shoe, “this is a mole! Sneaky little hero scum who thinks he can upturn my whole organization.”

You’d watched helplessly as he stared blankly at the floor, eyes shaded black with tar. At that time, you’d only seen Akuma kill once or twice, not fully understanding her quirk or the strength it took to fight it.

You stood there in your little group, unblinking, as Akuma questioned your partner again and again, asking for names and information. He gave away everything; his own identity, the people he worked for, what his mission was, everything. Except you. Never once did he utter your name, suggest the existence of a partner, or give away where you were.

Even when Akuma directly questioned him, he denied it.

He had eventually managed to free one of his arms from the tar, taking a swipe at Akuma using his quirk. He barely grazed the side of her head, and half a second later there was a bullet lodged in his.

And you just stood there, watching. Watching as he hurt, watching as he died. Watching as a wife lost her husband, and two children lost their father.

“Y’know, I think this is the first time I’ve managed to sneak up on you.”

You startle when a voice sounds too close to your ear, jumping away and nearly falling off the bench. Beside you, Oracle snickers, leaning back casually.

“You’re tricky to find, you know,” you grumble, willing your heartbeat to slow down from the scare.

“That’s good,” they say, “Don’t need heroes sniffing around for me.”

“Why not just get a license?”

“And be at the beck and call of a corrupt organization?” they scoff, though their tone isn’t malicious. “No thanks.”

You shrug, and slouch against the back of the bench. They weren’t wrong, you supposed. When it came to morals and humane treatment, the Commission wasn’t much better than a bunch of villains.

“Why are you looking for me, Y/N?” they ask, and you sigh.

“I need more information, about the vision you had.”

“A real disaster, that one. No one believed me when I told them to be on the lookout for Akuma.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “Most pros would think she’s too noteworthy to be smuggled into the country. In their eyes, it’s an impossible scenario.” Or too stupid to realize that people can do whatever they want, if they have the right connections and the right amount of money.

Oracle hums, considering your words. “It’s only impossible if someone steps in and takes her down. But what happens when everyone figures ‘someone else will do it’?”

“It never gets done.”

“It never gets done. Inaction is the very reason Akuma was even able to get here.”

You’re both quiet for a few beats, before they speak again.

“While I saw you dying, I took a look around the area. There was a chicken restaurant, with a flyer in the window. That’s where I got the date from.” They fiddle a little with their hood, pushing some loose strands of dark hair back under it. “It’s adjacent to a radio studio. The restaurant is a hole in the wall kind of place, family owned I think, not a chain store.”

“What’s it called?”

“Dunno. I didn’t see the whole sign. There was a picture of a really fat chicken cartoon, though.” They stand up off the bench and stretch, a couple pops coming from their spine. “Now, if that’s all-”

“Does anyone ever survive?”

They pause. “Survive?”

You look up at them sadly, and for a moment you see a flash of compassion on their face. “You see people die. Have your warnings ever saved anyone?”

In a moment, their expression changes to something far more fatigued than you’d ever seen someone so young wear, and your stomach feels like it’s been pumped full of lead.

“I don’t see people die,” they say quietly, “I see the moments leading up to someone’s death. I give people a place, a time when I’m able to, but what they do with that information is up to them. Sometimes they don’t believe me, sometimes they think they can get around it.”

“What about the ones who listen?”

Oracle shrugs, stuffing their hands in their pockets. “Sometimes they end up somewhere by accident, if they’re not paying attention.”

“Please stop being cryptic.”

They roll their eyes. “You need to be cognizant of my warnings, and not take them lightly. You have to be aware and alert all the time. The people who ignore me, or think they’re above dying, or find themselves somewhere by accident. Do you know what they have in common?”

“No,” you hiss, “that’s why I’m asking.”

Bright honey brown eyes pierce into your own, reaching a depth in your soul you never thought possible, and Oracle’s next words shake you to the bone.

“Hopelessness. Guilt, anger, shame, exhaustion, anything that gnaws away at hope like a dog’s chewtoy. In order to survive, some part of you has to want to live.” They shuffle their feet a bit, taking a few steps away from you. “I don’t know what you’re planning to do, and I don’t really care. But if you’re gonna walk right into this shitshow, you have to want to come out.”

They turn on their heel and start walking away, disappearing into the darkness, leaving you sitting beneath the flickering street lamp.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #eraserhead x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #present mic x reader #erasermic x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #Space Between #we're more than halfway done omg?#i didnt edit this chapter so um #excuse any mistakes #If anyone would be interested in beta reading future stories lemme know

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ao3feed-bakusquad · 4 years

Text

Lightning Bugs

Lightning Bugs by GenericPureBlood

“Please tell me how long this has been going on for and what may have started it.” He said beginning to write. “My irrational fear? Or my cool guy syndrome?” Kaminari replied joking, “I appreciate people use humour as a coping mechanism, but please tell me straight what you're struggling with.” Kaminari Denki is scared of thunder and lightning.

Words: 8436, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Class 1-A, Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijirou, Sero Hanta, Kaminari Denki, Jirou Kyouka, Todoroki Shouto, Yaoyorozu Momo, Monoma Neito, Kendou Itsuka, Shinsou Hitoshi, Asui Tsuyu, Iida Tenya, the rest of 1-A I'm too lazy to type, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Ishiyama Ken | Cementoss, Ectoplasm

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki & Kirishima Eijirou, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Jirou Kyouka/Kaminari Denki

Additional Tags: Kaminari Denki is a Dork, Kaminari Denki is a Good Friend, Kaminari Denki Has ADHD, Kirishima Eijirou is a Good Friend, Established Relationship, Established kiribaku, No Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Sero Hanta is a Good Friend, Gay Disaster Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou is a Dork, Kirishima Eijirou is a Ray of Sunshine, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Married Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Protective Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, No tag spoilers, Angst, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Therapy, Use of ocs, Original Character(s), Memes, 21st Century, High School, Healing, Friendship, supportive friends, Supportive Class 1-A, oneshot turned novel?, Oneshot?, Headcanon

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349643

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Kiribaku #♥#Kiribaku #Erasermic·#💥#💎#⚣#R:M #A:Generic #Dadzawa #Hurt Comfort #Fluff #Angst

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ao3feed-dadzawa · 4 years

Text

More Than a Cry

More than a cry by Assassin Bug

Shinsou Hitoshi has tried, subtly, to call attention to it. It doesn't work - he doesn't know how to go about it. How do you tell someone something like this, when even his case worker won't believe him? The thing is, he's scared - terrified even. He doesn't know if he can last much longer. He needs evidence, he knows, and someone to listen.

Or: Shinsou's foster parents are abusive, stuff happens, a camera is involved, and then Dadzawa.

Words: 2525, Chapters: 1/8, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen

Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Shinsou Hitoshi

Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Child Abuse, Torture, Angst with a Happy Ending

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26049082

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Dadzawa #♥#Erasermic #Hitoshi Shinsou #R:E #W:V #A:Assassin #Dadzawa #Abuse #Hurt Comfort

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brokendreamchan · 5 years

Text

The Fall

Knowingly Hizashi knew what he was doing was wrong, but he still and up doing it anyway.

Calling the league, giving them a heads up on the location of class 1A training camp. Giving them information on certain heroes.

Losing the trust of his fellow pro heroes, his friends and family inevitable. And Sho, he'll end up hurting him the most.

They where more than just friends, but neither of them making it official or putting a label to their relationship. Friends, lovers, companion, roommates they where everything, both having an understanding, not wanting to complicate their relationship.

They would cuddle, hold hand, kiss and hold each other. They knew each others greatest fears, their dreams and deepest secrets. Well, at one point they did.

The police did a recent raid, and was able to capture some lackeys of the league of villains. One of them got scared he was a low profile villain, who decided to snitch to get a better deal.

He revealed that the pro hero, Present Mic was working for the league. He was a spy, giving information to the league about UA.

In the beginning Present Mic denied the accusations, seeing how the detectives easily believed him made his stomach turned. He felt the guilt gnawing at his conscious, no longer able to keep up the lie, he arranged a meeting with the Detective Tsukauchi.

The young detective led him to an empty interrogation room,

-okay, what is it that you wanted to talk about Present Mic?

Hizashi first took off his directional speaker and took off his glasses, revealing his tired green eyes.

-What I am about to tell you it's very important. First, the villain you captured was telling you the truth I am a spy for the league.

The room felt even more suffocating, the detective was both surprised by the admission and apprehensive about what more Hizashi was going to say.

-After the Hosu incident I was approached by the villain known as Kurogiri, the warp gate villain. He was accompanied by Shigaraki and others. At the time I was prepared to fight, by myself I knew I was outnumbered but before the fight could even start a voice from somewhere said, 'Hizashi Yamada, Present Mic, what an honor. Are you and Shota Aizawa still living together? Oh where are my manners, I forgot to introduce you to an old friend, Hizashi, can I call you Hizashi, well I wanted to reunite you to an old friend. You might not recognize him but you and Kurogiri knew each other when you guys where in school. '

Hizashi paused looking down at his hands before he continued his story,

-i was confused and nervous, I knew the voice of the unknown villain wanted to distract me so I played along while I thought of a way out to escape. 'Do you remember your classmate, Oboro Shikamuro,' when he told me that name I was shocked, Oboro was a friend that I knew who died when we where still students.

Hizashi rubbed his head taking a break, his eyes misting.

-he then said, ' Kurogiri and Oboro are the same person, if you want to know more, I suggest you follow my companions peacefully or we can end this reunion short. Your choice.' I did as he instructed and followed them, they teleported me to a place that must have been an abandon bar. The villain Shigaraki sat down and looked at me behind the hand he uses as a mask. The others staying close but giving us space. And Kurogiri/Oboro went behind the bar. A TV that was on but blank revealed where the voice was coming from.

Hizashi looked directly at the detective,

-he introduced himself as All for One. They threaten me, my family, friends the students anyone and everyone. If I didn't do what they wanted they would make sure they would pay.

At first it was small things like what are the school schedules and current active pro teachers, their quirks and weaknesses. Basic stuff, at first I tried to mix some lies but it was like he knew, he revealed that the day the school had a break in that not only did they found out about the schedule for the USJ and that All Might teaching, they also read on the students information, their personal information, their home address their names and stuff. More and more I felt like a bug caught in a web, I couldn't escape. I couldn't tell anyone with out risking everyone.

Over time i found out as well about, Kurogiri/ Oboro, they turned Oboro into a nomu. I felt so sick, I tried to talk to him he didn't recognize me at all, he was different, All for one changed him.

Eraserhead can't know about Kurogiri being Oboro, it, all this will affect him heavily. After we lost Oboro, Sho became depressed and it's going to bring all those bad memories.

-Look, Present Mic we can work this out, you where force into this we ...

-No we can't, you need to take me in, have them accuse me as a traitor otherwise they will target the students, my family, Sho. I broke the law, I deserve to be punished. Please can you help me. Help me protect them. I don't care about my reputation or that people will hate me, that my students, listeners my friends, family...and Sho, I can live with them thinking the worst of me, as long as they are alive.

*notes*

An idea stuck on my head might expand later,

#erasermic #bnha #spoilers #kurogiri #naomasa tsukauchi #shigaraki tomura #villain present mic #hizashi yamada #aizawa x hizashi

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awendigostolemytaco · 5 years

Text

Phobia

So I wrote an EraserMic oneshot last night.

Synopsis: Hizashi finds a bug in his classroom.

It was days like this, that Shouta Aizawa really wished he could take a nice, long nap. Rain beat like a thousand drums against the windows of Classroom 1-A. The sky beyond the glass was an ugly, dark grey colour, signifying the storm was here to stay a while. Thunder rumbled overhead, as if to set it in stone. The teacher tore his attention away from the window and to his desk at which he sat. Test papers sat before him, waiting to be graded. Aizawa rubbed his eyes with one hand and held a red pen with the other. He was thoroughly exhausted, but then again, when was he not? He had had a particularly rough night prior, involving a burglar, who had decided to rob the wrong apartment. His. The man had nearly made off with the little valuable things he owned, before Aizawa had come home. A fight had ensued and the man had been captured. It had been the icing on the cake after catching villains all night.

Aizawa stared at the papers indifferently, willing himself to try and concentrate on the task at hand. A sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed his eyes again, setting down the pen. He reached into his left hand pocket and removed a bottle of eye drops. Unscrewing the top, he let a drop fall in each eye before he closed them. Much better. He opened his eyes after a moment, before replacing the cap and slipping the drops back into his pocket. Aizawa picked up his pen once more, before he heard a shrill scream. It was awfully loud, too loud for it to be a normal person. Now awake, the Erasure Hero got up quickly, his chair nearly falling backwards onto the floor as he did. The voice was very familiar. ‘Was that-?’

Before he could move, the door to his classroom burst open, nearly flying off its hinges. It smacked into the wall with an impressive thud as Hizashi Yamada, his long time best friend and boyfriend, ran into his classroom. The taller man looked pale and absolutely terrified. He was waving his arms around frantically, before spotting Aizawa. “Shouta!!!!” He yelled, his volume far much louder than necessary, as he ran over to the shorter man.

The Erasure Hero regarded the man with caution and a bit of concern. “What is wrong with you?”

“Sho, you have to help me!”

The man was practically screaming, enough to make his head hurt and ears ring. This was pretty normal, however. When excited or displaying strong emotion, Aizawa noticed that Hizashi’s vocal control was practically nonexistent. This led to much annoyance daily, but the Pro Hero dealt with it. “Be quiet and tell me calmly what’s going on.” Hizashi’s body was trembling as he began to hyperventilate. Something really was bothering the Voice Hero, enough to put him into an anxiety attack. Aizawa grabbed a hold of the taller man’s shoulders and looked at him squarely. “Hizashi. Calm down. Look at me.” As soon as Hizashi did, Aizawa continued. “Good. Now take some deep breaths and tell me what’s wrong.”

Hizashi took a deep, shaky breath before letting it out slowly. He did this a few times, until he began to get a hold of himself. “In my classroom… t-there was a bug! It was huge and it was ready to pounce! It was crawling around on my desk, waiting for me! Waiting to crawl onto my hand and up my sleeve! It was going to get me!”

Most people would have laughed, but not Aizawa. Instead, he listened to his boyfriend’s rant quietly. His face showed a look of understanding and sympathy for the other hero. “It’s okay, Hizashi. It’s not going to hurt you. Do you want me to get rid of it for you?”

“Yes, please Sho!”

So much for paperwork, but the Pro Hero did not mind. His boyfriend’s sanity was far more important than grading tests. Aizawa made his way toward the door, Hizashi tailing behind him at a self-proclaimed safe distance. The Erasure Hero glanced over his shoulder at the blond, before proceeding out the door. He felt bad for his him. The man could not help how he felt toward bugs. Hizashi had been this way since he first met him fifteen years ago. He had a terrible phobia of bugs. A laughable fear, according to quite a few people they had shared a class with. Aizawa never found it funny, and often defended Hizashi in saying it was rational to be afraid.

The Pro Hero broke from his thoughts as he stopped by the English classroom. The door had been left open, evidence of Hizashi’s quick escape. Aizawa stepped inside, glancing around the room, before heading toward the desk. Papers had been strewn about the floor, Hizashi’s chair laying on its side near the desk. The Erasure Hero could mentally see how the mess came to be. “Where did you see it?” Aizawa asked, stopping before the desk. It was tidy, minus a few pens here and there. But no sign of a bug as far as he could see. “Hizashi?”

Hizashi stood at the entrance of the classroom, frozen to the spot. He wanted to join Aizawa, but his legs refused to obey him. “B-by the pen cup. It was right there, I swear it was!” The Voice Hero explained, not daring to take another step. No way. The bug could be on the ceiling for all he knew! “Please kill it!!”

“I can’t kill it, if I can’t find it.” Aizawa mumbled, as he turned his attention back to the desk. The Erasure Hero worked on moving things around, trying to find the very elusive bug. Perhaps it had left while Hizashi ran to get him? The Hero moved everything around on the desk, before facing his boyfriend. “I don’t see anything over here.”

“Are you sure?” Hizashi swallowed thickly, before taking a tentative step forward. If Aizawa could not find it, then it was surely gone, yes? Forcing himself to move, the blond slowly joined Aizawa at the desk. The invading bug, was indeed, nowhere to be found... for now. “M-maybe it left?”

“I think so. I don’t see it anywh-”

Hizashi suddenly screamed, nearly bursting Aizawa’s eardrums. He grabbed a hold of the shorter man’s shoulders and ducked behind him, using him as a barrier between himself and the desk. “T-there! It’s right there!” Aizawa stiffened at the tight grip on his shoulders as he glanced at his boyfriend. He could see Hizashi physically trembling, wide-eyed and starting at the desk. The Erasure Hero turned his attention to the desk, finally spotting the imposing bug. It was a bit bigger than he had anticipated. A beetle by the looks of it. It must have flown in through one of the open windows to escape the rain. Aizawa reached for a piece of paper, when the bug moved. “Eeek!” Hizashi squeaked, before shrinking lower, squeezing his eyes shut. “Kill it!” He repeated it over and over in a desperate chant.

“I can’t kill it if you don’t try to calm down a little.” Aizawa explained, “You’re holding me back… literally.”

Hizashi shifted, realizing that the Erasure Hero was indeed correct. He was practically glued to his boyfriend’s back, not letting the man move an inch. In his mind, he did not want the bug to crawl on Aizawa or bite him, or himself for that matter. “S-Sorry.” The blond loosened the grip he had on Aizawa’s shoulders but did not let him go. Contact felt very safe right now. The bug could not get him as long as Aizawa was there and as long as he held onto his boyfriend, the man would be safe too. That was logical thinking, right?

Aizawa was thankful for the pressure to be gone in his shoulders. The Voice Hero had one hell of a grip when scared. “I’m going to get the bug now, try to relax okay? The sooner I can get it, the better you will feel.”

“O-okay. Be careful!”

The Erasure Hero reached forward and grabbed a book off the desk. He readied his weapon, before taking a step forward. He brought the text book down onto the beetle, a soft crunch mixing in with a thump. “It’s dead.” Aizawa mumbled as he lifted the book up and inspected the smashed beetle. He grabbed a tissue off the desk and cleaned up the mess, before setting the book down. He tossed the soiled tissue into the trash and turned to face his boyfriend. “Feel better?”

Hizashi nodded, before he hugged Aizawa tightly. “Thank you Sho!”

“You’re welcome, but it’s probably better if you close the windows before more get in.”

“You’re right!” Hizashi loosened his grip, but did not let the other go. Instead he leaned forward and kissed the Pro Hero.

Aizawa returned the kiss, and broke it. “Not at school.”

Hizashi pouted. “Okay.” He let him go and walked over to the windows, shutting them. As he did, Aizawa gathered up all the papers on the floor and put them into a neat pile. He set them down on the desk, and then righted the chair. “Uh Sho? Thanks for.. um..”

“Hmm?”

Hizashi sighed and rubbed the side of his head. “For being you. I always think I’m being silly for acting like that.”

“You’re not being silly, Zashi. Phobias can’t be helped.” Aizawa looked at Hizashi seriously. “It’s not your fault. I like you just the way you are.”

The Voice Hero smiled at this and joined him, hugging him once more. “I love you, Sho.”

“I love you too.”

#erasermic #shouta aizawa #hizashi yamada #my hero academia #This probably sucks but I tried

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 6 years

Text

Villainous Heroics - Chapter 15

Woo! This took so much longer than I wanted it to where midterms hit hard. Here we are, though, with Chapter 15. There's three more chapters left after this, so the story will be wrapping up shortly. Don't despair, however! I have "end game" drabbles planned for this series as well as two spin-offs that deal with mind sharing and body swapping. That's right, readers, we are FAR from done!

Enjoy!

Click here to read the work on Archive Of Our Own.

Click here to read the work on Fan Fiction Net.

⍣ I have a Patreon! NOW UPDATED!!⍣ ☪ I have a tip jar! Buy me a coffee!☪

Summary: Eraserhead is an underground hero who is constantly busy and doesn’t have time to be dealing with new villains - even if they aren’t all that villainous and make the night interesting.

Present Mic is the latest up-and-coming villain in the world and he has a point to prove to everyone out there - as long as he doesn’t keep getting distracted by Eraserhead.

Aizawa Shota is someone who soon learns that there is more to someone than the mask they show to the world - especially when it comes to playing heroes and villains.

Yamada Hizashi learns that there is more to heroics and villainy than he could have ever thought - especially in a world where some heroes still care about those lost in the shadows.

(Inspired and dedicated to corndog-patrol’s Villain!Mic AU on Tumblr.)

<<First/Chapter>> <<Last Chapter>> <<Next Chapter>>

Chapter Fifteen

Halfheartedly scribbling a thumbs-up on Ashido’s latest test paper where she had achieved a low B, Shouta glanced at his phone as it started vibrating for the fifteenth time that hour. Considering his contact list was five names long, he could safely narrow it down to the only person who would find the need to text multiple messages in a row instead of confining her words into a single text box like a sane person.

‘Eraser!!!’ ‘When were you going to tell me that Present Mic was a hero?!?!?!’ ‘He just saved me and my sidekick a bunch of trouble!!!’ ‘He’s so great too!!!’ ‘He’s really a SCREAM!!’ ‘Lol but no seriously when were you going to tell me??’ ‘ERASER HE HELPED BANDAGE MY SIDEKICKS ARM AND GAVE HER A PIECE OF CANDY’ ‘IT WASN’T POISONED CANDY EITHER’ ‘OI ERASER CAN YOU HEAR ME???’ ‘He told me to tell you hi by the way he’s so cute’ ‘Really tho is he licensed?? When did that happen??’ ‘Ah he’s leaving now but seriously check the news it’ll probably be on there.’ ‘Did you delete my number again?? It’s me!! Ms Joke!! Your fiance!!’ ‘erASER’ ‘Tell Nem I said hi’

Exhausting. Joke was utterly exhausting and Shouta regretted every day that he hadn’t killed Nemuri for giving her his number. Moving to turn his phone off, Shouta frowned as it started ringing with an annoying American song that Nemuri had chosen for herself years ago. He almost let it go to voicemail before he decided he didn’t want to deal with her in person.

“What do you want, Nemuri?” Shouta answered, pushing himself up from where he had been working at the kotatsu for the past few hours. It was really showing he hadn’t moved in a while, he mused.

“I thought you said Present Mic wasn’t a vigilante?” Right. Joke had been talking about a fight that Present Mic had showed up to help out on.

“He wasn’t last time I saw him. What happened?” Shouta shuffled to the kitchen, smiling softly as he deftly avoided Jelly’s playful jumps and nudges against his ankles.

“Joke and that new sidekick of hers, Bullseye, were having some problems with a mutation quirk villain. Some sort of large animal with a lot of teeth and not that good at laughing.”

“Not good for Joke,” Shouta muttered, frowning as he checked his coffee pot, wrinkling his nose at the cold dregs left behind. He’d need to brew some more.

“No, not good for Joke. They were waiting for backup when your vigilante came on the scene and took care of the guy. Five minutes and he was down.”

“Sounds about right. Why are you calling me, then?” Flicking his phone to be on speaker, Shouta started a fresh pot, eying Jelly’s food bowl. He could probably give her at least another half scoop for the night.

“Because you said he was still a villain last time we talked!” Snorting at that, Shouta picked his phone back up, collapsing at the kitchen table.

“He probably still thinks he is.” Really, though… Yamada hadn’t been a villain for a very long time. After their talk the other night at the man’s apartment, Shouta was almost certain that Yamada had never been a villain. He was far too kind for that.

“He keeps saving people! That’s the opposite of a villain!” Stifling a laugh against his fist, Shouta listened to Nemuri’s ranting and complaining as he kept an ear out for the quiet sounds of a happy cat and a brewing coffee pot and thought about the ‘villain’ that was Present Mic, or, rather, the hero that was Present Mic. Shouta had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last they heard of the new vigilante and hero.

Two weeks later proved him more right than he was expecting. In two weeks Present Mic had teamed up with Nemuri for a raid that had gotten out of control, aided Kamui Woods with a building evacuation during a fire, bonded scarily well with Mt. Lady during a bomb threat, and had even managed to work together with Endeavour of all people. Although, Shouta had heard from Nemuri that Endeavour's ears had been ringing for a few days afterwards.

All in all, Present Mic was finally making an impact like he had wanted to, turning the spotlight on him and making sure the media, and by extension their world of heroes and villains, knew just who he was. And yet, here he was, hiding away on the top of a roof like he was scared of being seen.

Landing on the edge of the roof lightly, Shouta hid a sigh in the wraps of his binding cloth as he stepped forward, letting his footsteps be heard. He knew Yamada knew it was him when the man didn’t even tense or look back. Not sure what to say, Shouta finally settled on something that he at least knew would get a response. “How goes the day, hero?”

The laugh was dry and brittle, an inch away from snapping as much as Yamada was. The man still responded, though, tilting his head to look back at him, “Shouldn’t it be night?”

“Probably,” Shouta said softly as he gave a twitch of a smile at Yamada before moving to take a seat beside him, still marveling on how a man as loud and outspoken as Present Mic had such a common name. Then again, after speaking with him in his civilian life, he supposed it made more sense. Yamada Hizashi seemed scared to speak louder than a whisper. “You know, typically heroes stick around to do the paperwork that comes with the work you’ve been doing.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not a hero, then.” The words were clipped, short, and to the point. Shouta believed them as much as Yamada seemed to. “I know what you’re going to say and I’m not changing my mind. I’m not… I’m not some hero.”

“No,” Shouta finally sighed, looking down over the city that spread out around them. From the building they were on it felt like they could see their entire world awash in cool blacks and bright neon lights. “You’re not.” Shouta hated how, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yamada relax. “But you could be.”

For once, Yamada didn’t have a quick response or a sharp denial ready. Instead he looked towards the night sky, hints of stars just barely peeking past the light pollution of the night. Silence settled around them, but Shouta noticed it wasn’t a comfortable silence. It wasn’t upsetting, to any degree, but… there was tension.

Shouta finally sighed, fingertips curling around the sleeve edge of Yamada’s leather jacket, giving it a light tug. The man didn’t move, but Shouta knew he had his attention as he asked, “What are you doing, Mic?”

“I… thought I could help. People, good people, were at the risk of getting hurt on all those occasions. I thought… I don’t know. I thought maybe I could at least make sure no one died. I thought I could help-”

“You did help.” Did he really not see that? After all of this, did he really not see that he was doing good? “Joke told me how you helped her and her new sidekick. It could have been a lot worse. Nemuri won’t stop bugging me to get your phone number for her, half the other pros thought you were a new hero, and Endeavour is still absolutely pissed - which, if you ask me, is always the mark of a good hero.”

His last line, just like he had hoped, had Yamada giving a startled laugh. Tension seemed to drain out of both of them, Shouta feeling a shoulder press against his own. He didn’t move away. Instead, he sat calmly, relaxing at the swath of warmth until he heard Yamada suck in a shaking breath, “I’m supposed to be the villain, Eraser.” Eraser? Ah, right. Yamada didn’t know that Shouta knew who he was - both parts of him.

“Is that what you really think? Or is that what you’ve been told to think?” Because Shouta had a theory that Yamada wasn’t a villain by choice. He had started all of this to help people in his own way, after all. A man like that could never be a villain. “You keep saying your quirk was dangerous… Who told you that?”

Just as he suspected. Yamada was tense against his side once more, wound up and tightly coiled as if ready to cut his losses and run. It was almost cute that Yamada thought Shouta would ever let him leave. Maybe that wasn’t the right question to ask, though. Maybe the better question…

“Why have you been helping the pros, Mic?” If he was so dead set on being a villain, why help? “A villain would have taken advantage and taken them all down. You stopped and helped. Why?”

It felt like an eternity, but finally, finally, Yamada let out a shaking, wobbling sigh. It was a sound that was a step above a sob and Shouta wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that he wanted nothing more than to draw Yamada over and hug him. He was getting too soft.

“Mic.” Biting his lip, Shouta pushed his embarrassment aside and slowly moved a hand up, freezing for a few seconds before setting his fingertips against Yamada’s cheek and carefully pressing until he had the man finally looking at him. Yamada looked like he was shaking to pieces and Shouta didn’t stop to think before he pressed his palm against Yamada’s cheek, thumb rubbing against soft, smooth skin. “Why are you helping, Mic?”

There was a single moment where Shouta thought Yamada would jerk away and bolt. That moment passed, however, and Shouta shivered as he felt Yamada completely relax and lean into his touch as if he was starved for it. Distracted as he was, Shouta almost missed the words Mic said next.

“Someone important to me told me that I could be a hero.” The words were whisper soft - a secret that he knew Shouta would protect. “I think he might have been right.”

Shouta had never lied. He knew that Yamada Hizashi could be a great hero, but that didn’t mean he could ignore the truth. Yamada had grown up on rough streets and knew how to fight both with and without his quirk - which was powerful on its own. He hadn’t been trained as a pro, though.

There were some pros that didn’t go to a school specialized in hero training, yes, but that meant they usually served out internships and acted as sidekicks until they had the knowledge and experience they needed to go forward. Some sidekicks spent over a decade learning from pros, and even a new pro had the force of an agency behind them. Hell, Shouta himself worked for an agency and he was underground.

Yamada had none of that. He had no idea what the common strategies or signals were, he had never been trained to keep calm in mentally taxing situations, and he no doubt had only ever interacted with panicking civilians briefly. There was also the fact that he had never been trained to deal with real villains.

Present Mic fought thugs and gangs and kept the streets safer, but he didn’t deal with smuggling rings, quirk black markets, and hostage threats. Present Mic should never have been near a raid for an underground market that dealt in trading children with promising and powerful quirks. It was too dangerous - for him and everyone else involved in the scene.

It was all well and good to call him a hero, but that did not make him a pro. At best he was a vigilante and at worst he was an idiot who was trying to get himself killed.

“Mic!” The busy and upscale neighborhood (which hadn’t that been terrifying to know this was all taking place in somewhere considered safe) was filled with nosy civilians, handcuffed villains, crying and screaming children, and the wailing of sirens. Shouta could barely hear himself think in the mess, but he knew Yamada could hear him. Yamada always heard him. “You are not just walking off after all of that! You can barely walk!”

This raid had been dangerous from the start, but, as was the case these days, they had underestimated their opponents. While all the children had been rescued and were still alive and breathing, Yamada and half of the smugglers had almost died when the man had brought down the building to keep them from escaping. Shouta himself had barely gotten out and it had taken over an hour to dig everyone out. Yamada had been lucky that he was still alive!

“You could’ve died from a stunt like that! Are you even listening to me?!” Yamada was bruised, bleeding, and limping, his glasses having been cracked during the initial crumbling of the building.

“So what if I die? You wouldn’t care. I’m a villain - and a piss poor one at that.” Yamada had spun around to meet his approach, fist clenched around his broken sunglasses as he stared at Shouta with tear-filled eyes. Shouta wasn’t sure if it was the tears that made it feel like the breath was knocked out of him or the fact that Yamada had just said those words so casually. No… he had said them so bitterly. “I give it my all and you still hate me!”

Shouta had failed. If Yamada thought that he hated him after all that had happened, then he had well and truly failed in everything. Yamada looked close to even more tears, voice sounding so defeated as he muttered, “At least let me sulk in peace.”

Shouta was moving before he was even fully aware of it, catching Yamada by the lapels of that stupid leather jacket of his and tugging him close and keeping him from running away. His fingers had gone white with how tight his grip was, but he paid it no mind, instead entirely wrapped up in how their foreheads bumped together, Shouta hearing the hitch in Yamada’s breaths as he slammed his eyes shut, unwilling or unable to meet Shouta’s own gaze. It hurt more than he thought it would. There were a million words he could say, but words had never been Shouta’s strong point, and all he could get out was, “I don’t hate you.”

“So what is it?” Yamada was quick with words like always, but his voice shook as if expecting the fall that was about to come. “What’s wrong with me?” Shouta was so tired of Yamada thinking he was worthless. He was tired of Yamada thinking that Shouta would ever let him fall. “Why all the rejections?”

Shouta was bad with words. He always had been. There had been a hundred situations where Shouta had destroyed or ruined something because he had said the wrong words. He was determined to not let that happen with this man. So instead of words that would fumble and fall flat, Shouta tightened his grip on Yamada’s jacket before pushing himself forward, lips slotting themselves against ones that were chapped and dry. The silly man probably bit his lip every moment he grew nervous.

For a moment the lips against his were still and unmoving and Shouta felt his heart drop. There was no way he had read all of this wrong. Present Mic had flirted from the start, but Yamada Hizashi had stared at him with eyes that were filled with the same emotion Shouta had constantly been feeling around him.

When he felt hands curl into his jumpsuit and pull him closer, lips pressing hard and messy against his, Shouta realized he shouldn’t have even bothered to worry.

Pulling back, because even a moment like this needed a few words, Shouta bit his lip as he looked at Yamada’s face, still bruised and dirty from the raid, but flushed with pink and holding wide green eyes that practically shone.

“If I hated you,” Shouta near whispered, “I wouldn’t have bothered putting up with all of your stupid hijinks.”

“Oh!” The exclamation was quirk strong, Shouta not giving Yamada the chance to apologize before he was pressing forward again, lips finding Yamada’s as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Yamada didn’t hesitate, this time.

Shouta would be lying if he said he hadn’t pictured this moment before. He tried not to, but when the thoughts slipped in they usually revolved around adrenaline and something fast and rough and more about actions than words. This… wasn’t.

The kiss stayed hard for only a moment before Shouta felt hands cupping his cheeks, calloused fingers resting against him and a rough thumb pressing into the scar under his eye, dragging against it like he had after the USJ incident.

Shouta wanted to know those hands. He wanted to know each dip and curve and he wanted to know what had caused each scar and callous. Shouta could spend hours kissing his way across each inch of skin, giving the man all the contact and attention he had so obviously been starved of.

He had to have been starved of touch. It was in the way Yamada clung to him like he was afraid Shouta would pull away and never return. It was in how he pushed forward with the same amount of force he pushed back, arching into the hand that Shouta had pressed against the back of his head, keeping him close.

It wasn’t rough and fast and hard, though. It may have started like that, but Shouta was becoming lost far too quickly as Yamada curled into him like he belonged there, lips moving slowly and assuredly against his, a hint of teeth pressing against his own lower lip that had Shouta shivering and fighting back any sort of noise. Yamada didn’t have the same concern, a low, soft moan leaving him when Shouta’s fingers dug against the man’s scalp.

Slowly remembering that they were in the middle of a raid scene and they were both sore and injured, Shouta carefully pulled back, almost going right back when he saw Yamada staring at him with a flushed and dazed expression.

“Come on, hero,” Shouta mumbled, indulging enough to let himself press his lips to the edge of Yamada’s jaw, skin smooth and soft as he returned the favor from so long ago and flicked at the skin with the tip of his tongue. The noise Yamada gave had Shouta swallowing roughly as he pulled away again. “Let’s get you patched up.”

“Promise not to let go?” Yamada’s voice was rough and low and nothing at all like the smooth, high tones he had as Present Mic. It had Shouta tightening his grip more than he thought possible.

“I won’t.”

“How hard would it be to have an adult get a pro hero license?” Shouta kept his expression perfectly blank and even, laid back as ever as he watched Nemuri cycle through at least eight different expressions in the middle of the staff room. When her face finally settled on a sharp smirk, though, Shouta wondered how fast he could get away.

“This is for Present Mic, I take it?” Nemuri’s voice was a purr and Shouta hated her. He still gave a single, sharp nod, however. “Well, well, it looks like my little Shou-chan finally found love! Ah, they grow up so fast!”

Shouta kept silent and, by the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. Nemuri was staring at him with sharp, narrowed eyes. Shouta stared back evenly, trying not to show any fear. She could no doubt sense it.

“Shou-chan,” Nemuri cooed, voice light and sweet and containing all the horrors of the world. “When I said you found love, that’s usually when you correct me and tell me how wrong I am.” Right. There were many ways to do this.

“There’s no use in correcting you when you aren’t wrong.” In hindsight, Shouta should have expected the squeal. “Are you going to help me with this or not?”

“Of course I am!” As usual, Nemuri didn’t seem put off by his sharp voice and sharper glare at all. “Oh you’ll have to tell me all about it. Did you two finally admit to your feelings?”

“Sure.” In truth, there hadn’t been much time. The raid had been a few nights ago and Yamada had been absolutely exhausted after having an EMT on the scene use a minor healing quirk on the worst of his injuries. Shouta had followed to make sure he got home alright, but they hadn’t had a chance to talk about… what had happened. Yamada had whispered that he would see him soon, though, before leaving, and that was more than enough. “Here’s the paperwork I’ve managed to gather so far.”

“You can leave it all to me, Shou-chan!” Nemuri grabbed the paperwork, near spinning in circles she looked so happy. Shouta had the urge to tie her up and shove her away in a closet for a few days. “I’ve witnessed a true miracle! Not only is my sweet Shouta in love, but his feelings are returned!”

“You’re lucky I still need you alive.” Shouta hated to admit it, but Nemuri was far better with loopholes and paperwork than he was. Besides, this was important. He wanted to have all the paperwork ready when he finally sat Yamada down and truly talked to him about all of this. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I have things to do.”

“Right, right, go train your secret love child,” Nemuri waved off, suddenly pausing and going completely still. Shouta was already reaching for his binding cloth as Nemuri looked at him with wide eyes. “Does Mic know you have a son?”

“I am going to skin you alive and feed you to my cat,” Shouta hissed, refusing to admit any heat in his cheeks. “I do not have a son.”

“Yet.” Turning on his heel, he decided that ignoring Nemuri was the best thing he could do. “Boo, no fun. I’ll get the paperwork to you later!”

Pausing at the door, Shouta glanced back and gave a small nod before deciding that he could be cruel, too. “Mic and Shinsou have already met. He seemed delighted that I ‘had a son.’” With that, Shouta left the lounge and closed the door, smiling a little to himself as Nemuri’s pleas and whines for more information.

Heading to the indoor gym he had been spending most of his afternoons in, Shouta peeked his head in and smiled to himself as he saw Shinsou going through his warm-up routine, focused intently as he moved through his stretches. The kid had come far since that first fight in the festival and Shouta knew without a doubt that he would make it into the hero course.

“I know you’re there, Sensei.” Kid was getting more observational, too. Shouta hated how stupidly proud that made him. “It’s creepy when you just watch, you know.”

“It’s my job to watch.” Striding into the room and over to his student, Shouta helped him to his feet, noticing the look. “You have two minutes.” It had taken months to get Shinsou relaxed enough to talk with him honestly and openly. It had then taken a few minutes to realize he had made a horrible mistake. Once Shinsou was comfortable enough to talk, he didn’t stop. Shouta almost wanted to throw him in a room with Yamada and see which one ran out of words first.

“The new hero Present Mic, huh?” Shinsou had a large grin on his face, Shouta placing a hand on the teen’s head and gently tipping his head down towards the ground. All it did was cause laughter. “Is he still saying he’s a villain?”

“Not for much longer.” Not if Shouta had anything to say about it, at least. “He was never much of a villain to begin with, anyways.”

“I thought he was that night when I first met him.” Oh? That was news to him. “He came striding in like he was one of them and the guys who had me cornered started talking about how he was always fighting against Eraserhead.”

“Well, they weren’t wrong,” Shouta snorted, nudging Shinsou along. “Come on. Second set of stretches.”

“I don’t think I was afraid of him even when I heard that, though.” Shinsou kept talking even as he began the next set of stretches, Shouta shucking off his capture weapon and joining him. “He was glaring, but he was glaring at the one that was holding that muzzle-”

“Muzzle?” Shouta stumbled out of his own stretch, eyes snapping to Shinsou. He silently conceded to Nemuri that he might have grown a touch attached when he had the immediate urge to check the kid over and make sure he was alright after an event that had happened months ago.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you that part?” Shinsou blinked, looking entirely nonplussed. “They were talking about how I’d fetch a nice price.” The fact he could say that with such a detached tone had Shouta feeling even more worry. He didn’t much like it. “He played them all, though. Present Mic.”

“Let me guess. He got rid of the muzzle and then screamed at them until they passed out?” Because he remembered the state those men had been in when Shouta had come across the scene.

“He took the muzzle and fooled them into thinking that he was helping and that he was going to put it on me himself,” Shinsou recounted, tongue poking out as he focused on a pose he always had problems with. Shouta was nudging him into the correct position almost absently, Shinsou flashing him a smile. “He had them all fooled even as he dropped that muzzle and put his headphones on me instead.”

“That sounds like him,” Shouta snorted, remembering that night clearly, now, and how Yamada had been without his headphones when Shouta had found him. “He’s not all that intimidating once you see that stupid smile of his.”

“Yeah. He had me hide behind the dumpster and reassured me the whole time. He made it seem like he was on their side right until he took them down.” Shinsou stood up from his stretch, entering a more relaxed one as he stretched his arms up, a small crack coming from his back. “He’s a pretty amazing hero when you think about it.”

“Vigilante, you mean?” Shouta glanced down to see Shinsou’s smile, wide and honest as he shook his head.

“No. I meant hero.” Shinsou laughed as Shouta rolled his eyes, fighting to hide a smile. Shinsou was right, though. Yamada truly was an amazing hero. A hero that… deserved to know the truth.

Next time. Next time they spoke, Shouta would tell Present Mic he knew exactly who he was and he and Yamada Hizashi could sit down and figure things out. It wasn’t going to be easy - not by any stretch of the imagination - but Shouta had a good feeling about where it was going to go from here.

It was time for Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi to be more than just Eraserhead and Present Mic.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #erasermic #villain!mic #corndog-patrol #villainous heroics

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