#aizawa hurt

[needtoloveoutloud]

The readers are going to hate me for Chapter 25 of the story. I just know it.

Just finished it and literally almost cried while writing it.

God dammit.

I know that things will get better, but the readers don't. The hurt is strong with this one.

[decarbry]

growing pains

[kayentokk]

Hey :) How are you doing?

Okay so, i wanted to request a platonic father Aizawa in which he is out patroling and he finds his teen daughter doing something ilegal with her friends or something like that.

Please and thankss :)

A/N; I’m okay thanks for asking! Love this idea, I’ve gotten many requests somewhat related to this lately actually! I’ll be posting those throughout the week. Also sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this! 🥲 I truly believe Aizawa is a girl dad and a softie parent. 

Pairing; Platonic!Father Aizawa x Fem!Daughter Reader

Contains; a little ooc Aizawa, fluff, soft, drug mentions, reader is about 16-17 like mha characters, quirk-less reader, death mentions, bad friends, comfort

wc; 1,763

You weren’t supposed to get caught. In fact, you didn’t even think you would. It wasn’t a big deal anyways, you only did it because you thought it’d be a way to relax with your friends. Plus, if you guys did get caught your backup plan was your father. It wasn’t like he was going to detain you…right?

Wrong.

You were very wrong to believe that your father wouldn’t take you into custody over a little weed with your friends. You just wanted to have fun! Besides, you didn’t want to be the ‘perfect heroes daughter’ who’s a buzzkill. Why couldn’t he understand that? 

There was just so much pressure that came with being the child to a hero. Your friends already joked about how you were too ‘good’ to do anything remotely illegal. Which is part of the reason you were in this situation in the first place. 

Of course he just happened to be patrolling around the alley you and your friends decided to get a little high in. That was just your luck, he didn’t seem mad though. So you thought he’d just tell you guys not to do it anymore, and move on. Nope. Leave it to Aizawa to want to teach you a ‘lesson’ all of a sudden. He was normally just a “don’t do it again,” kind of parent. Mostly because you had never done anything of this caliber before.

“Did you really have to bring me in?”

Silence.

“I mean come on, none of the other heroes care. They’re too busy thinking about protecting the city, shouldn’t you be too? Nobody cares about a couple of kids getting a little buzzed, besides everyone does it nowadays-“

“That doesn’t make it okay y/n.”

You’ve rarely seen him like this, so tense. He didn’t look angry, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got that he was. It was almost….scary. 

So you resigned to a simple, “Okay, I’m sorry.” Were you really sorry though? Not that much, you still didn’t see the big deal. 

He let out a low grunt, “This is serious y/n, I know you think I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” well he said it first, “but you could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“Hurt? From getting a little high?”

“Criminals lace that stuff all the time, whether it’s with poison, more drugs, or whatever else they decide-“

“Yeah sure, but we got it from a trusted source-“

“And who’s that?” He said crossing his arms. 

Oops.

You decided it’d be best not to respond right now. Especially since the source wasn’t technically trusted, just another kid who got it from someone else. Who probably got it from someone else too.

Sensing your apprehension he decide to drop it, “we’ll revisit that later,” he said waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll drop you off at home, you’re grounded.” 

You internally groaned at that, grounded? That’s a new one, you were starting to really regret your decision. You should have just told your friends no, even if it meant being the ‘buzzkill.’ Then you remembered, your friends-

“What about my friends?”

“We’re working on calling their parents to come pick them up soon.”

“No!-“ you said sharply, “I-I mean, can’t you just let them off? Or something?”

“You know that’s not how this works, they are already getting off with a minor offense. The worst they’re going to get is their parents’ scolding.”

“Dad! You don’t understand-“

“I understand perfectly fine, a bunch of young kids wanted to ‘have fun’ and thought this was the best way to do it.”

Okay maybe he did understand, but not your side. He didn’t get that now you’d officially be the outcast, the top 10 ranked hero’s daughter who gets everyone in trouble. Does he get how embarrassing that is? 

“Come on, let’s get going.”

You stood from the chair leaving the comfort of being shielded, by the small desk separator, from your friends’ piercing gazes. They thought your dad would let you all off too considering the chaos the city’s currently in. 

You nervously waved and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to them before rushing out the door trying to follow closely behind Aizawa. 

You guys didn’t speak the whole way home, you opted for silence mostly because it wasn’t that big of a deal and he just didn’t know what to say. You had never done anything like that before, or had he just never caught you? When did that start?

He remembered when you were little and you’d give your vegetables to stray animals so you didn’t have to eat them, or when you tried to sneak out at night and he caught you. But those were all pretty minor things, and he was only always concerned with your safety.

You’d never done anything this bad, and in terms of the worst thing you could do of course this wasn’t horrible but he still didn’t get why. It couldn’t have just been for fun.

He entered the house after unlocking the door and opening it for you. Before you could make it to your room, where you’d probably go to sulk, he decided he’d ask.

“Why did you want to do that y/n?”

You stopped and turned around to face him. He was standing in front of the door, and now that you actually took in his appearance he looked tired. His dark circles more prominent, eyes a light pink most likely from his quirk, and his black pants had small patches of dust that had been hastily patted off on them. 

You replied after a moment, briefly forgetting his question, “For fu-“

“And don’t just say for fun, because I know you and there are plenty of other things you would do for fun.”

You huffed resigning to just come out with it, “it was a bet.”

“A bet?”

“My friends bet me that I wouldn’t get high with them since I’m a hero’s daughter.”

“And you decided to take them up on that?”

“Yes, I know it was stupid okay?”

“I know you know, you’re smarter than that. So why’d you say yes?”

Why’d he have to be so persistent? “Maybe because I thought I’d finally get some friends.”

“What do you mean y/n? You do have friends.”

“No, I don’t. Momo, Tsu, and Uraraka only hang out with me out of pity, since you’re their teacher, if they even have time-“

“Pity? Y/n no they don’t, there’s nothing pitiful about you at all-“

You scoffed, “don’t lie. I get you’re my dad and all but be honest with yourself, truly honest.”

“I am being honest. I’d never lie-“

Guess you’d just have to spell it out for him then. “The only daughter you had killed your wife, was born quirk-less, and there’s nothing special about her!” You were shocked at the admission of your own feelings but kept going, “I don’t have a talent, I’m not exceptionally smart, I’m not breathtakingly pretty, and I can’t even make friends!” You listed raising a finger for each reason, “Now tell me what about that is not pitiful?”

After that question there was silence, and Aizawa was just looking at you. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until the first tear slid down your nose crease and hit the corner of your lip. Before touching could even wipe your tear or register the sound of footsteps approaching you, you were being hugged. Fully covered by his arms, your head grazing the bottom of his chin where stubble had began to grow, face buried partially into his scarf. 

You heard high pitched wailing, which you hadn’t even registered was you until his hand began to rub up and down your back with quiet ‘shh’s to try calming you.  

“Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, none of it okay?” He began whispering in your ear.

“Your mom and I both knew the challenges she’d have if she gave birth to you. We were well aware, and she wanted to have you. She didn’t care if she’d die in the process, you are our child.”

He continued comforting you, and when you eventually calmed down he let go and gently pulled your face out of his chest so you could look him in his tired, red eyes. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you that enough okay? It’s my fault I’m sorry. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’re perfect. I mean that, I’d never lie. You don’t need a quirk, to be super smart, or have a special talent. You’re perfect to me, okay? And that’s all that matters. You’re important to me,” he said firmly. 

“Okay?”

You sniffled, reaching a hand to wipe your nose, “okay.”

“Hey,” he said turning your face back to his, “I really mean it, I’d be no where without you. And how could you say you’re not beautiful? I know I’m not the best looking hero, but haven’t you seen the pictures of your mom? You take after her, gorgeous. Nothing I’d ever change about you, I don’t regret anything.”

“Okay,” you said slightly unused to him saying these things, “I’ve never heard you say something so corny dad,” you said chuckling trying to lighten the mood. 

At that, he gave a small grin which faded when he remembered your earlier point, “And Ochaco, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu do like being your friend. Not just because I’m their teacher, trust me I’m more of a supervisor if anything. I let them figure most stuff out on their own. They wanted to meet and hang out with you. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, you make friends just fine.” 

“I know, I know, it was just heat of the moment stuff dad.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugged you once more, and pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“I still have about another hour of night patrol, but I’ll stay here if you want me to?”

“No dad, it’s fine go.”

He looked at you once more as if saying, ‘are you sure?’ 

“Yes I’m sure I’m fine, it’s only an hour anyways.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything, I’ll be back soon,” he said headed towards the door.

“Okay,” you said starting to walk to your room. 

But just before he shut the door you dashed for it and started, “Hey! does this mean-“

“No you’re still grounded,” he said. 

And with that the door shut.

@/cafekitsune for the divider!

[s1ckh1mb0]

There you sat crying into his chest yet again about your stupid family. Being the eldest child was never the easiest but it made you the easiest target for when anything ever went wrong. It was never even your fault you had nothing to do with it. But did your family care? Of course not you were just the scapegoat for everyone to take their issues out on. “S’ not fair why am I always being blamed for everyone’s mistakes? I just want their love and approval just like they give my siblings!” “I know sweetheart and even though they don’t see how amazing you are just know that I always will.” Oh what would you do without your sweet man by your side..

Miguel,Nagito,Aizawa,Benimaru,Bruno, 1610! Miles

[kryonsite]

closure, it's okay, you can rest now

[bloody-bee-tea]

A truth for a truth

Shouta can tell that something has Shinsou agitated the moment the boy steps into the gym. He doesn’t even try to hide it, which makes Shouta think that for once maybe surprise wins out over fear or pain and the need to hide them, like it so rarely does with Shinsou and yet Shouta still waits until he’s standing right in front of him to speak.

“What?” Shouta asks, not worrying about his tone in the slightest because Shinsou has been training with him for weeks now, so the kid knows how Shouta operates.

And they have found that usually less words work well between them. As if to prove him right, Shinsou huffs out an annoyed breath before he looks Shouta in the eyes.

“Your hell-class has accused me of being your kid,” he states, and it prompts a frown from Shouta.

“They know I teach you. That would make you one of my problem children as well,” Shouta easily says, because he’s long past pretending that he doesn’t use the moniker with great fondness but to his surprise Shinsou shakes his head.

“No, I mean—they accused me of being your actual love child, with an as of yet unnamed woman,” he clarifies and oh. Yeah, okay, that makes more sense, considering that his hell-class is involved.

“As of yet?”

“That guy with the double quirk certainly has theories,” Shinsou almost spits out and Shouta bites back a laugh.

Yeah, Todoroki has shown a tendency to obsess over one tiny detail for far too long and then come up with the most outlandish theories. It’s kind of hilarious, most times, so Shouta fails to see how it could agitate the kid so much.

“And that upsets you?” he asks, because he’s not a mind reader, despite what the rumors say and Shinsou huffs out another breath.

“What upsets me is that half of your class nodded along with that guy’s outlandish theories but then they laughed all straight in my face when I told them that it’s highly unlikely, seeing how you and Mic-sensei are almost disgustingly married.”

Now that brings Shouta up short. The staffs knows of their marital status, of course, but they make it a point to keep it a secret from the kids and to be found out so easily, doesn’t sit right with Shouta, despite the fact that it’s just Shinsou. He doesn’t mind at all if the kid knows about their marriage but still. He shouldn’t have been able to figure it out in the first place.

“Now what would make you say that?” he wants to know and levels Shinsou with a look; one of the few that still work on the kid.

It works now as well, because Shinsou drags his shoulders up to his ears and shuffles from one foot to the other.

Shouta raises an eyebrow when Shinsou stays silent.

“Permission to speak plainly,” he finally mutters out and it almost makes Shouta laugh, because for all that he’s giving the kid a hard time right now, it’s hardly that serious.

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to promise me that no matter what I say next will not get me expelled or punished or—I don’t know, make you mad at me. That I can talk freely.”

Shouta immediately tenses as he’s reminded that Shinsou clearly did not grow up in a loving home if he has to clarify that, but this, at least, is easily rectified.

“Permission granted to say whatever you want,” he gives back and Shinsou takes a deep breath before he goes off.

“It’s just—so obvious,” he almost spits out and before Shouta can ask for more clarification, Shinsou goes on. “You go all—soft around him, and I don’t just mean the way you slouch when he’s in the room, because your slouch becomes more relaxed when he’s there, but your face—” Shinsou points an accusing finger at Shouta’s face and Shouta almost feels as if he’s done something wrong. It’s a novel feeling. “I’m pretty sure you don’t move a single muscle but whenever Mic-sensei is there your face does this thing, where it goes all soft, here,” Shinsou points to the corner of his eyes, “and here,” and then his mouth.

In all honesty, Shouta wasn’t aware he’s doing any of that, and Hizashi hasn’t pointed it out either, but maybe the kid is on to something. It’s worth inquiring after, later.

“Mic-sensei took a phone call in the middle of class one day, and he very loudly and very clearly called out ‘Shou-chan’. As far as I am aware Shouta is your first name so—” he trails off with a shrug but then seems to find his groove because he ploughs right on and Shouta is way too entertained to interrupt him, no promise at all needed in the first place.

“You always carry something for his throat around and he has your eyedrops at the ready and you may think you’re all subtle with the way he always just conveniently carries two cups of coffee when he arrives at school, but let me tell you, you’re not. Not to mention that you always get his cookies from the vending machine when you go for one of your jelly packs.”

Shinsou takes a deep breath, but he’s clearly not done yet.

“And you’re so—you’re always slightly annoyed with Midnight-sensei, though in that way that only friends have, and then you’re barely tolerant of Vlad-sensei and you’re downright hostile with All Might and really, Mic-sensei should be the same, because they are both loud blondes with blinding smiles but you’re just so—unbearably fond of him. Sure, you snap at him and he riles you up on purpose and you threaten him with your quirk when he threatens you with his but it’s so—” Shinsou lets out a frustrated groan. “It’s like you’re dancing to a song only you two can hear and you’ve been doing that for years, you have to, because it makes no sense otherwise. You wear a ring around your neck, at all times and even though Mic-sensei hides it well with his gloves, he's literally wearing a wedding ring all the damn time, too and you bicker! Like a disgustingly married couple. Which you are!”

Shinsou takes a few deep breaths before he completely deflates again.

Shouta is almost disappointed, because while all of that is true, Shinsou didn’t mention the most damning facts. Shouta has not been trying to keep his relationship with Hizashi a secret around him and he knows Hizashi is the same, though really, Shinsou should have picked up on so much more than he already has.

And as if just to spite him Shinsou speaks up again.

“And I’m only deliberately mentioning the things everyone can see. You all but said to me in private that you’re married. I know what it means when you say the staff knows you at that one restaurant, when you tell me you two have favourites together, when you leave training together. I’m not stupid.”

“Clearly,” Shouta drawls out and waits for anything more from Shinsou, so he doubts that he still has something up his sleeve.

“I’m done now,” he hoarsely whispers and it’s an unwelcome reminder that Shinsou is clearly not used to talking so much or so loudly without being interrupted and this might not be the right choice right now, but Shouta has to take a chance here.

“Am I wrong about any of that?” Shinsou wants to know when Shouta is too busy formulating his plan to speak but that finally gets him going.

“How about a deal?” Shouta asks and he clearly has Shinsou’s attention with that already. “How about I’m allowed to speak plainly for now as well, without you yelling at me, or getting angry, or shutting down and running off, and after I’m done we both tell the other if we are right or wrong?”

His words have left Shinsou tense and worried, Shouta can tell, and he almost wants to take it back, knows that it’s almost unfair, because the stakes are not at all the same for the two of them, but they’ve been dancing around this topic for so long. And Shouta is tired of it.

Tired of Shinsou flinching after several days at home, tired of spotting poorly hidden bruises, tired of faint marks on Shinsou’s face. He just wants him come to him with this, to ask for help, to accept help. Shouta just wants to get the kid out of the house he’s currently in and take him home, to his husband and his cats and a life he deserves.

And if he has to go about it this way, then so be it.

“Fine,” Shinsou bites out and Shouta doesn’t waste another second.

“Your home life is shit,” he plainly says and doesn’t let Shinsou’s flinch stop him. “They are keeping necessities from you; clothes that fit, stuff for school, money, even food.”

He personally made Shinsou’s meal plan, specifically tailored to him and the amount of training he’s doing and he should have put on so much more muscle than he actually has which can only mean one thing. He’s not eating enough and Shouta would bet his hero license on the fact that it’s not voluntary.

He’s being starved at home.

“They hurt you, physically but also verbally.”

Shouta doubts that Shinsou came up with half the insults he calls himself almost daily on his own.

“Sometimes they don’t allow you to come home at all. They threaten you with punishment. You’re not allowed to ask questions, probably not allowed to speak much at all and if you do, there’s a—”

Shouta’s voice fails him here briefly because he still remembers the tears running down Hizashi’s face as he makes helpless sounds behind the muzzle strapped too tightly to his face and the knowledge that it’s happening still, and to one of his kids, is almost unbearable.

“There’s a muzzle,” Shouta manages to finish and he doesn’t miss how Hitoshi ducks in on himself, as if he has to brace for a hit.

“You know it’s wrong, and you hate it there, but you’re too scared to say something because you don’t know where you’ll end up next and it could mean you have to pull out of U.A.,” Shouta goes on, and he’s certain in this, because he has seen Hitoshi’s file.

There are too many foster homes to count, too little time spent in too many of them and he doesn’t even want to think about the amount of trauma the kid must have accumulated.

“Are you done?” Shinsou spits out when Shouta is quiet for a moment too long, and he guesses that’s fair.

“I am,” he agrees and watches how Shinsou jerks his head to the side, and he pretends he doesn’t see the tears glistening in his eyes.

“Great, then how did I do?” Shinsou demands to know and Shouta gives him a small smile, because this right now, is the second part of this entire spiel.

“Not too bad, kid,” he admits. “Hizashi and I are married and have been for almost ten years now. But there is one thing you don’t know.”

“And what’s that?” Shinsou asks, still too rough, too sharp but Shouta’s smile doesn’t waver.

“We both have foster licenses. And we’re more than prepared to take in a kid, or, let’s say a stubborn, sassy, diligent, hard-working teenager from Gen Ed with a mob of unruly purple hair. Under the Emergency Foster Protocol at first, because that way the teenager would have to go home with us on the very same day, but we’re prepared to go through the proper channels to make it permanent. And then later official.”

It prompts a shuddering breath from Shinsou and Shouta is not too alarmed when he sees tears sliding down his cheeks.

“So, how did I do?” Shouta throws Shinsou’s words right back at him and for all that he knows that this is emotionally very difficult for Shinsou he was not quite prepared to find himself with an armful of sobbing teenager, so they both fall to the floor in an undignified heap.

Not that he minds it much, because Shinsou is clinging to him and surely that must mean something.

“They also sometimes lock me into the closet,” Shinsou gets out between his sobs and Shouta bites back his almost automatic response of ‘Wonderful’.

He and Shinsou have an understanding, sarcasm and sass one of the things they share between each other, but he doubts that the kid has even a thought to spare for that right now.

“Not anymore, kid, not anymore,” Shouta reassures him, because there is not a single universe out there where he will allow Shinsou to step back into that environment ever again.

Shinsou only clings tighter to him, hiding his face in Shouta’s chest as he cries and cries but not once does Shouta tell him to stop, because clearly Shinsou needs this out of his system.

It takes him a while to calm down again, time Shouta spends cradling the crying boy to his chest, but eventually Shinsou falls silent.

“Mic-sensei won’t mind?” he rasps out and Shouta shakes his head.

“I can call him right now, if you’re worried. He’s on his way to the radio station but since you’re coming home with me now, he’ll want to be there anyway.”

“He can’t cancel his show for me!”

“Kid, he cancels his shows all the damn time, that’s just the risk of being a teacher and a pro hero. It happened before and it will happen again and he won’t mind at all, I can promise you that.”

“I don’t—he’ll be mad.”

“He won’t be,” Shouta gives back and then takes the decision out of Shinsou’s hands, because he has no idea just how excited Hizashi will be.

Shouta gets his phone out and presses the speed dial before Shinsou can even think to protest and it takes Hizashi less than three rings to accept the call.

“Shou? Everything alright?” he greets him with, his voice tinny because he’s clearly still driving and Shouta can just picture him balancing the phone on his thigh.

“Shinsou is coming home with me today,” Shouta plainly states and feels how Shinsou tenses against him.

“Finally,” Hizashi breathes out, the relief so stark in his voice that there’s no way Shinsou can miss it. “He finally asked for help?”

“More like Aizawa-sensei cornered me,” Shinsou speaks up and Shouta pats his head.

His hair really is soft. Maybe he’ll have to do it again, and often at that, he decides when he notices how Shinsou leans into the contact.

“Hey, there, little listener, how are you doing?”

“Have been better,” Shinsou admits between sniffles.

“He figured out that we’re married,” Shouta tells Hizashi because he’s still very proud of him for that and it makes Hizashi laugh.

“Yeah, if anyone would, it’s him. I told you he’s smart.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Shouta sighs out when Shinsou ducks his head in embarrassment at hearing that. “You coming home?”

“Of course I am! I’ll bring take out, what are you in the mood for?”

“Can you drive to that diner next to the cat café? The staff knows our orders, and you like their food as well,” Shouta suggests, because he thinks it might be a bit much, forcing Shinsou to think about anything right now and Shouta has taken him there enough times after training to know that the kid likes the food there.

“Sure. I’ll also call Tsukauchi, to get the ball rolling. Shinsou, kiddo, you’re safe now and I’m very proud of you for letting yourself get cornered.”

It prompts a new sob from Shinsou and Shouta decides it’s much more important to hug him close again than to say goodbye to his husband, so he simply hangs up and throws the phone down, so he can better gather Shinsou up in his arms.

“We’ve got you now, kid, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

He doesn’t expect Shinsou to respond, not really, because clearly the kid has other worries right now—mainly breathing—but he still speaks up.

“I trust you.”

Shouta wasn’t prepared for the way that simple statements makes him feel warm all over but he’s beyond glad that it’s the case.

And he and Hizashi will make very sure to never do anything to make Shinsou regret that decision.

[pealingpetals]

wish you were here

[lolita-lollipop]

(EXTREMELY) SOFT! YANDERE AIZAWA X READER

(Request given through messages: reader who is embarrassed to tell Aizawa that they cannot sleep without a stuffed animal, as it was their comfort item throughout their childhood when their parents would fight. Eventually the reader is so exhausted that they break down and cry to him. Platonic please!)

Warnings: unmentioned stockholm syndrome, mentions of kidnapping, secondary insomnia ,yandere. You dictate what you read.

———————————————————————

He was always able to know when you were awake.

It was the one thing that came easily for him with you after he had taken you, the one thing he was always able to do. It was especially easy after he had moved you into his room, originally he moved you because of your most recent escape attempt, where you had actually managed to leave the house while he was sleeping, you had called the police. The call had only lasted a few moments, not even seconds before he had you roped up tightly…

But you had sounded alarmed enough to have the cops of the area in a frenzy, you sounded like the missing girl they'd been looking for for months. They had come knocking at his door the next morning, asking if he had seen or heard anything the previous night. Being a pro hero he was the last person they would even remotely suspect, so it was a quick “no”, a short visit. However, a long enough one that it had him reminded him of just how fragile your relationship was, and how you being kept on a loose leash wouldnt work.

So that night, he moved you up into his room, where you slept in his bed. With him. It took away all of your sense of freedom, your only private space, the room where you had some of your own stuff, your old stuff. You had actually ended up liking your room the most in this house, he had promised that it would be a safe space for you, somewhere he would let you enjoy yourself, with the little tv and toys that he knew you liked. He also usually would let you have your alone time when you were in your room. You liked that most of all.

He was actually able to learn so much more about you than he ever had before. Sure, he had watched you sleep plenty of times before, but it had only ever been from afar. Or through the cameras in your room. Never had he been this close. Close enough to notice your habits, and what you do. The biggest thing being: you barely were able to sleep. Ever. Maybe he was just too far away to notice it before, or maybe your lack of sleep started when he took you. The thought of that made his heart heavy.

You tried, he knew that much. Every night, you would lie down in bed, on the edge as far away as you could possibly get from him, curl up, and close your eyes. And every night the same, you would squirm, and sigh, and inevitably stay fully awake and aware all night. He pretended not to notice, as you never said anything about it and were clearly closed off to conversation about it. He couldn't help you unless you asked, otherwise, you'd get upset, he had learned that the hard way.

But he saw what your sleeping habits did to you, he should've seen it so much sooner. How you trudged around the house like there were a hundred pounds heavy on your shoulders, how the purple under your eyes just got deeper and deeper as the days passed by. You were tired, but you couldn't sleep. Eventually, after a few weeks, you stopped trying entirely, instead sitting at the edge of the bed with that far-off look in your eyes.

Sometimes it would get bad enough that you would cry, but he knew how embarrassed you could get with him, how shy you were, especially when it was about your feelings, which you generally kept to yourself.

It was always bad, but it was never this bad.

The night had started like it normally did, with him helping you with taking your vitamins after dinner, then he read you a story like he always did. After this, like every night, he tucked you in his bed, giving you the extra fluffy blanket that you liked (as you run much colder than he did), and went to get in his pajamas, leaving you alone. He only took his eyes off of you for a few minutes, long enough for him to tie his hair back and get ready for bed.

But immediately after leaving the room, he could hear you crying. He liked that the walls were thin, because he could hear everything and anything at al times l. Your cries were muffled, soft, and pained in the same way you always were. But loud enough that he was automatically put into panic mode.

Making a full sprint back into the room, he was met with the sight of you, curled up in a ball sitting on the shiny wooden floor with your knees held tight to your chest. Crying, but not the loud obnoxious crying he'd seen from villains before who just wanted sympathy, this was guttural, dripping in melancholy. He saw the way your fingernails dig into the skin of your knees, you were holding yourself too tightly. How awful.

“Baby? What's wrong? Oh god come here honey- it's okay.” immediately the burly man was on top of you, pulling his muscular arm under your knees and back, and lifting you off the floor. You were shaking like a leaf, shivering with every sob that left your mouth. Unlike most times when he tried to comfort you and you would squirm like a cat and howl like a banshee, this time you just cried into his chest, melting in his arms and letting your tears stain his shirt. Your hand clutched at his long hair, twirling it in your fingers, quivering.

“What's going on? I've noticed you've been a bit… down.” He spoke, pulling you in closer and sticking his face in your hair, kissing your head, and swiping your hair from your face. You just wrapped your arms around his neck, sticking your head into the nook of his shoulder. He always smelled the same, like some crisp orange smell with something deeper mixed with it, you grew to hate it and love it at the same time. You quieted your cries slowly, mustering up any resolve or courage you had in your system to try and talk to him.

“I- uhm- It's embarrassing,” you muttered into his shoulder, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax into him.

“Oh? What is? You can trust me, baby, I won't tell anybody.” He cooed, continuing to cup your face and stroke your cheek with his thumb. Your answer had piqued his interest, yes, you had always been closed off and embarrassed about yourself around him. Even before he had taken you, you were his student, the one who was quiet and reserved, you sat in the back of the classroom and were well likable to all the other students. He could never tell what you were thinking, you kept your head down and only answered questions when called on with that timid voice of yours that he loved. But today your voice was wavering, exhausted.

“I’m just so tired. And- It's because- I just can’t- uhm- i-” Your breathing became heavy and fast, tears re-clouding your eyes. You couldn't remember the last time you'd actually cried this way, at least not with a man like Aizawa, especially not with your teacher. You met his gaze for a few seconds, staring into the way they crinkled with both age and kindness. He urged you to go on, raising a brow. God, when had you become so trusting of him?

“I can't sleep without my bunny” you rushed out, immediately breaking your gaze and flushing, oh my god what kind of idiot were you? How pathetic was it that you, a college student, couldn't manage to sleep without the help of a stuffed animal? You knew he was looking at you like you were an idiot, the way your parents used to all the time. You thought he was judging you, thinking you were pathetic, stupid.

But it couldn't be more different. Oh. my. God. you were absolutely the cutest thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. He could remember seeing that bunny in your arms now that he thought about it, when he would watch over your house while you would sleep to make sure nothing happened, you were always holding that bunny. But he had stupidly not grabbed it when he took you, instead opting for a teddy bear. How absolutely precious could you be? His awed silenced only made you feel worse.

“I- I know it's stupid- it's just since I was a kid I had trouble sleeping because my parents- my parents would fight and it was the only thing-” You took a long- shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down “-the only thing that would help me- don't be mad please I know it's dumb” You cried out, burying your head as deep into his shoulder as you could. You wanted to disappear right now. You should've just stayed quiet, oh he was judging you for sure. What kind of idiot were you? You knew that he-

“Oh my god, you are the cutest thing arent you? Baby, why didn't you tell me sooner? I knew you weren't sleeping well but I didn't know this was why. I would've been happy to get it for you, it's not embarrassing at all” he spoke, cupping your teary-eyed face and pulling it out from his shoulder, he pressed a firm kiss on your forehead and wiped the tears from your cheeks. You just sniffled and leaned in, too tired to care about anything other than the fact that he was warm and nice.

“ look hon- ill get it for you soon I promise, but we live too far for me to go tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Can we try something though? Is that okay?” he was talking so softly to you now, so kindly. Usually, you would've been suspicious of his actions, being that it was extremely different from how you'd seen him in the classroom. But your brain had essentially turned to mush the past few weeks, and you were far too exhausted to care. You nodded, staring up at him with glossy eyes, what was he planning?

“It's nothing bad. Just relax, close your eyes.” the sturdy man commanded, cupping your head as he lifted himself, along with you, off the floor again. He squeezed you tight as he made his way across the room, grabbing your fuzzy blanket before settling into the bed, you pressed firmly against his chest. You were small in comparison to him. Small enough to fit on top of him comfortably. He settled under the blanket and wrapped his arms around your waist, staring at you with those loving grey eyes he had throughout the entire process.

Staring up at him in confusion for a few moments at what he was doing , you managed to let out a small “Huh?” before he shushed you, and tightened his grip. Pulling the blanket over your shoulders, he slipped his hand up and down your back, drawing small circles around and around, leaving a tingling sensation to rack down your spine. He had you melting like putty in his arms.

“Just relax baby, Ill protect you from everything there is. Just try and sleep okay? I'm here.” At his words, you sank into his chest, letting your cheek squish on him. He usually wasn't affectionate, this was very likely for your own benefit now that you think about it, as you had obvious discomfort with being touched (due to your complete lack of physical affection growing up).

But this… his touch alone sent warm waves through your heart, this was so comfortable, so soft. So warm. The way his breathing lifted you up and down with every breath he took, the way the circles he was placed on your back melted your bones, how the blanket was so soft, how he was so soft. It was so… comfortable. The exhaustion that had built up over the past few weeks settled in the front of your head, weighing your eyelids closed. Before you knew it you had your hand clutched tightly around his shirt, and you were dozed off, letting little mutters and snores leave your mouth as you slipped into a deep sleep.

Oh, you were just so precious. He genuinely didn't think that you could be any more fragile than what he had previously believed. However, he was so so so wrong. You couldn't complete your life functions without the help of a plush-filled bunny. How cute was that? It just made him feel more attached, you were so helpless. Too innocent for your own good. You would never have to deal with anything that would require the help of your bunny anymore.

He would make sure of it

———————————————————————

I love how I’m writing about insomnia as it is five in the morning and I haven’t slept yet🤪

Anywya the anon who requested this wanted to remain anonymous but Ily for requesting his! Thanks!

Also thanks to those reading right now, ily too!

Anyways tell me what you think, it very likely hs many grammatical errors that I will not be fixing. I’m gonna sleep now goodnight!

Have a great day! Bye!

[alienaiver]

Cloudwalking

Aizawa Shouta x GN!reader

content: you're married to aizawa and he takes you to meet shirakumo for the first time.

wordcount: ~900

notes: the anniversary of a friend's passing is catching up to me. aizawa helps me cope so heavy on the comfort <3 written entirely on my phone and with no beta reading. i hope you enjoy <3333 (genuinely not sure if this is coherent. its missing people hour<3) spoilers from season 4 and up? to be sure!! ill come back and format this post when i have more than 3% battery 🫡

"i'm married."

"married!" the voice is at the cusp of a scoff, but excitement shines through.

"yeah, i know. wasn't the most emotionally available back then."

"good for you, man! is it them standing over there?"

aizawa turns his head to look back at you. you're a distance away with a small bouquet of flowers, all in white and blue. you're looking up at the huge, cumulonimbus clouds. you're meeting shirakumo for the first time.

aizawa turns back to the cold, unliving stone with his friend's name engraved, together with the dates. he hates the last date; that day had nothing to do with shirakumo, he's not attached to that particular day in any way. it was just... the day aizawa, yamada and his family lost him. nothing else, nothing important or personal that'd invoke feelings in shirakumo himself.

he hears the comforting words of his friend, "hey man, it's alright. we're okay."

he never pictured himself as a person talking to graves, imagining the voice of a deceased. it's irrational. completely irrational. there's no one there. least of all his friend. but showing up periodically and giving his friend his life updates eases a weight in aizawa that he's barely able to grasp otherwise.

but he hasn't been here for quite some time. with the war, the amputation, the restoration of society, his marriage, it hadn't really seemed like an opportune time whenever he thought of it. always so much to do, so much to run after.

the days blurred more and more often for aizawa; all the things and jobs and shifts and teachings that he always had the upper hand with kept slipping between his fingers now. fatigue making him forget to grade papers after patrol, night shifts at the dorm disrupting his already fragile sleep cycles, medication after medication turning his stomach around while wrestling with medical training, physio and therapy.

aizawa's not young anymore; hell, he's never felt young. not quite like his peers and he's never really been able to recognize himself in his students. he may see a glimmer of himself here and there, but never quite does he relate to their motivations. he bites his lip.

"they're nervous about meeting you." he admits, even if he finds your fear irrational. shirakumo would never judge anyone.

he imagines his friend's laugh like a caress on his cheek, "i've already met them. i'm with you all the time, remember?"

aizawa snorts, "god, i hope not."

there's a beat of silence before he imagines shirakumo's next words, biting his upper lip and tensing to prevent tears.

"they take great care of you, like you deserve."

aizawa's lost so much. over the years he hasn't always been able to rationalize how he keeps going. surely, anyone going through all that he has is bound to suffer a mental break, right?

he thinks he almost did. but then you showed up, bright and warm. you offered a hand right before he'd resigned himself to stay alone.

to stay alone for everyone else's sake. he knows he'll become more and more of a burden as age grapples his torn body, as disability lets things slip.

he's been more nervous about seeing shirakumo today than you.

what if his friend isn't proud of him? what if he's disappointed? what if he pities him?

he grits his teeth and apologizes to the grave in a strained voice. reprimands himself for ruining the moment.

"they're coming over."

he tenses up when he hears your footsteps nearing.

why?

"i told them to."

aizawa's stays squatted in front of the grave, afraid to turn to you. you don't see this side of him often.

he can feel you right beside him, and after you've taken a steadying breath to gather courage, you bow low to the grave and introduce yourself like you would to someone above you in a hierachy.

"thank you for taking care of my husband. i'm deeply grateful to be able to meet you."

you squat down next to aizawa and put the flowers gently on the grave, and he observes as you trace your fingers over the bluest of them all, the muscari, before you lean into your husband's shoulder. aizawa doesn't want to admit it, but he relaxes instantly at the gesture.

there's a moment of silence, like you're both soaking up the moment. when you rise and speak again, aizawa isn't able to hold back his sniffle as gracefully as he hoped. if you hear it, you don't comment on it.

"i promise to take care of him, in your stead. and send him here more often, with some salmon nigiri to enjoy with you."

the last part makes him laugh, letting his head fall into his open palm in a sort of flustered embarrassment stemming from all the overwhelm of emotions. aizawa imagines the gleeful laugh of his best friend, the puffed up chest and the hand to your shoulder, telling you to do your best, and that aizawa can be a handful.

"he's a handful sure, but there's nothing about him that doesn't make it worth it."

aizawa feels his heart soar as he looks up at you straightening your pants. when he catches your eye, you give him a thumbs up and a big, sunny smile matching the bright blue sky and white clouds behind you. the clouds perfectly shapes themselves and centers around you, like you're embraced by those, too.

[socially-anxious-wizard]

Dad.

[shakarian101]

Mha Text Thread: Dadzawa x Student Reader: Aizawa helps you after your parents kick you out.

~ Parental abuse/abandonment

~ Aizawa being a Dad to his student

~ Hurt/comfort

~ Not a relationship!!!

~ Gender Neutral

[ghostxrose]

Nicotine | Aizawa Shota x Reader

Summary ~ When you started dating Shota, you knew what you were signing up for. What you didn’t expect to happen was for everything between you both to come crumbling down, leaving you pinned beneath the rubble and Shota not even realizing it.

Tags/Warnings ~ Minors DNI, NSFW content, Inspired by Nicotine by Panic at the Disco, hurt no comfort, angst, failed relationship, past relationship neglect, cursing, break up, sad ending, use of Y/N

Note ~ Hey Lovelies, I wrote this one night when I was craving some angst, lol. I did include some of the lyrics from Nicotine, sorry if it's cringe. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy the read? It is very angst forward so.. I don't know.. trigger warning..? Love and appreciate you, Lovelies! <3

You had shown up to his apartment not long after he called..

Again.

As soon as you were through the door, the two of you had dove right into sloppily making out and pawing off each other’s clothing..

Again.

You two had taken your heaving chests, kiss bitten lips, panted moans, and lust heated bodies straight to his bedroom without having a proper conversation beforehand..

Again!

You let out a loud moan, your orgasm taking over your mind, as Shota gives one last thrust and groans into your mouth in one last open-mouthed sloppy kiss as he cums. He stays on top of you for a moment, lazily making out with you, before he slowly pulls out and flops onto his back next to you.

As you both lay there panting and coming down from your highs you close your eyes. Shota slowly gets up, tying off the condom and heading to the bathroom to throw it away and clean himself up.

The post-orgasm clarity hits you and the feeling of disappointment fills you as you sit up. You let out a heavy sigh as you rub your hands over your still flushed face and swing your legs over the side of the bed. Your eyes scan the floor for your clothes, more negative and heavy emotions stacking themselves on top of the disappointment. Collecting your clothes from off of the floor, you start to get dressed.

“What are you doing?” Shota asks from the doorway of the bathroom, startling you a bit.

You don’t turn around to face him because you know that his face is either it’s usual tired disinterest or it’s occasional tired confusion.

“I’m getting dressed.” You state, attempting to make your tone blank and void of emotion.

“That much was obvious, (Y/N). Why are you getting dressed?” He says, his tone slightly more irritated than normal.

“This was a mistake, Shota.” You bite out, already feeling the sting of tears in your eyes.

You feel the bed dip behind you and hear Shota let out an exasperated breath as he sits down heavily.

“You said that the last three times we.. did this. I don’t understand what the problem i-”

“The problem is that we are stuck in this horrible on and off situation, Shota. I.. I can’t do it anymore..” You say, cutting him off and trying so desperately to keep your tone controlled and even.

“The only reason we’re ‘on and off’ is because you thought that being with a Pro Hero who also teaches full-time would be a walk in the fucking park, (Y/N).” Shota angrily spits, both of you still sitting with your backs facing each other.

A bitter rage floods your body and you lose the will to hold back any longer, “I never thought that, Shota! I knew it would be difficult but I was ready to put in the effort required to make it fucking work! I poured so much effort int-”

“I did, t-” Shota’s raised voice cut you off but you only let him get those couple of words out before doing the same.

“In the beginning you did, yes! But where did it go, Shota?!” You yell, turning around to face him.

“(Y/N)..” He growls out but you don’t let him get any further, once again, as everything that you’ve been trying to bury bubbles out of you.

“It’s been a year since our last date! A fucking year! All we do anymore is sleep, fuck, and go to work! I can barely remember the last meal we shared together! I fucking understood what it was that I had signed up for but it got to a point where I didn’t even feel like we were in a relationship anymore!” You continue yelling, your whole body heated from anger and tears streaming down your face.

“Y- you’re.. You’re worse than nicotine, Shota! I keep telling myself ‘one more hit and then we’re through’ but I can’t fucking stay away from you! It’s like I can constantly taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you! Every single day, whether I’m with or without you, fucking hurts!” Your yells crumble into choked sobs and you bury your face into your hands.

Shota is standing across from you, the bed between you both, just staring at you in silence. His eyes are the slightest bit shiny, his face is scrunched up as if he is in pain, and it’s the most emotion that you’ve seen on his face in a year. His mouth opens and closes a few times but no words come out. You compose yourself enough to look up at him with a heated glare.

“Did you even love me back the same way I loved you, Shota?” You ask bitterly. You’re met with more silence and nod your head with a dry, humorless chuckle.

“We’re done for real this time, Aizawa. Don’t fucking call me again.” You spit out as you gather the rest of your stuff and make your way out of his apartment.

You sit in your car for a few minutes screaming and choking on hard sobs over the pain of your heart shattering. “This was the last fucking time!! I fucking swear it!!”  You scream at your steering wheel, praying to any and every higher power that may be out there to give you the strength to resist getting one more fucking hit.

Note ~ Someone please tell me that I am not the only one who will actively seek out angst, sometimes.. Is it healthy? Probably not. Will I continue to look for or write angst? Yes. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love! My amazing Lovelies, I love and appreciate all of you! <3

[plusultraetc]

you know the drill, I'm still thinking about this post and it's been awhile since I had an emotion about this, but seriously what's the deal with Aizawa being narratively surrounded by characters who were "born bad" because of their powers. Eri is the most obvious example (again!! this post!!), but then there's Shigaraki as her parallel character who, omg, has respect for one (1) hero and it's Eraserhead. look further, and there's Shinsou, whose entire motivation is proving that he can be a hero in spite of what people call a villainous quirk. if you want to reach for the stars, Present Mic was born with his quirk and immediately deafened not only his parents but the doctor who was present, probably some nurses too. objectively this is a bad thing. something something inherently "bad" powers surrounding Aizawa whose power it is to take other people's quirks away. I'm taking it, I'm running with it, I'm like a Swedish cow put out to pasture after a long winter in the barn

[eeraserheadd]

imagine comforting shouta after a particularly bad nightmare. (gender neutral reader.)

cw: nightmares, mentions of canon character death, general angst to fluff

notes : this was supposed to just be a blurb, but uh. i got a bit carried away. :3

you could feel shouta's body twitching beside you, faint, but given how long you've known the man, you could pick up on just about anything.

your eyes crack open, immediately taking note of the scrunched, pained expression your lovers face held. how your heart just broke at the sight.

you'd known of shouta's nightmares since the day you first got together. he warned you of them. the nightmares always consisted of losing one of his closest friends, oboro shirakumo.

his death had constantly plagued aizawa's mind. he wished there was something he could have done, he wished he could have been the one suffering that fate instead of oboro.

you shift, pulling the male closer, being extra careful as to not make the male panic.

his body trembled against your form, breaking your heart even further. he uttered a single word, one that told you everything you needed to know.

"oboro.."

you gently shook his shoulder, slowly waking him from the horrid things he must've been facing within his own mind. he awoke with a gentle gasp, eyes locking with yours.

aizawa didn't say a word, simply leaning into your comforting embrace. you knew he'd speak if he wanted to, but sometimes, he just wanted to doze back off in your arms, knowing you'd keep him safe.

this was one of those nights. his form curled against your own, arms wrapping firm around your waist. his head nestled comfortably against your chest.

shouta aizawa may have been a man who'd seen hell and back every day of his life, but with you? he felt as if all those thoughts, all those fears, all those anxieties...just faded away, being replaced by the warmth you gave, the firm hold you kept on his body, and the soft thump thump thump your heart gave.

his home.

[rainy-matcha]

why are there no erasermic fics where they're the main focus and not a background ship 😭😭😭

[bloody-bee-tea]

You're not a pet

This follows after No more soup, so you should read that first but the run down is as follows: Hizashi finds a ten-year-old Hitoshi muzzled on his way home and gets himself involved enough to get the kid away from his abusive foster family and take him home. From then on it’s just a lot of trial and error for the three of them and this is just one of those instances.

Hitoshi refuses to let his hands shake as he packs his bag. It’s—fine. It’s what he has to do, he knows that. The incident last week has shown him that he has to, there’s no way about it.

Yamada-san and Aizawa-san are clearly not going to send him away, like they should, like they need to, so it’s on him to bring it up. He waited all week for them to bring it up, but they didn’t and so it falls to him to say something first.

He can’t stay with them; he’s dangerous, his quirk is dangerous and they don’t take enough precaution to protect themselves. And Hitoshi likes them too much to put them in any more danger than this.

He’d rather go back to his previous foster family than to stay here and endanger the only two nice people he has ever met in his life. Hitoshi can stomach being locked in a closet, he can accept the muzzle and beatings and starvation as long as it means that Yamada-san and Aizawa-san are safe.

Safe from him, safe from his quirk and his villainous tendencies and the danger he brought into their nice home.

It’s totally fine and Hitoshi’s hands are not shaking. Not at all.

If he gets lucky, then maybe he can still get weekly visits with them, somewhere public, where Hitoshi’s slip ups would be noticed immediately, maybe with supervision or something. He’ll have to remember only to talk to Yamada-san, so that Aizawa-san can erase his quirk when he inadvertently takes control of Yamada-san, so they can be safe and Hitoshi would be alright with that. They don’t enforce that rule at home, have even told Hitoshi that they expect him to talk to both of them, but once he no longer lives with them he’ll have to make sure to never slip up in that regard again.

If he sees them once a week that would still be better than nothing and Hitoshi has learned ages ago that he needs to be grateful for the little things. Little things are better than nothing after all and still more than he deserves.

So he packs. He almost has a break-down when he realises that he can’t fit everything into his bag because he owns more than he ever has before and that means he has to make decisions on what to take and what to leave behind and it’s enough to make him hyperventilate into the soft purple sweater Yamada-san gifted him.

He has to leave it behind, he knows that, because it’s not practical and therefore has no right taking up space in his bag of necessities and it would also be considered a luxury where he goes and luxuries are not permitted.

Not for Hitoshi.

It takes him almost longer to calm down from his momentary panic than to pack everything up and when it’s all done, everything he might need in his new home packed away, he has to sit with the closed bag for a moment.

That, too, was a gift from Yamada-san and Hitoshi never understood why he insisted on Hitoshi having it but maybe it was for this all along. Maybe Yamada-san already knew that Hitoshi would leave them eventually and simply wanted him to be prepared for it.

Still, it’s nice to have this bag. He used to have to stuff his things into a trash bag so this is definitely a step up.

Hitoshi takes one last look around the room—his for only a few hours longer—and when he’s certain that he has everything he needs he takes a fortifying breath.

It’s time.

There’s no reason to drag this out any more, to put them into danger any longer and so his knees only barely shake when he steps out into the hallway.

Yamada-san and Aizawa-san are in the living-room, on the laptop and grading papers respectively, and Hitoshi just hopes that he won’t keep them for too long from it. He knows that they are both incredibly busy and they need every minute they can get, so Hitoshi promises himself to keep it brief and short. Half an hour max. It should be doable; he should be able to convince them in that time to get rid of him. It’s never been hard before, after all.

Yamada-san is the first to look up at him and he smiles as if Hitoshi isn’t a villain, as if he isn’t a monster clad in breakable skin, and it almost makes him throw up.

“Hey there, little listener. You wanna join us?”

It’s enough to make Aizawa-san look up as well and a silent counter starts up in the back of Hitoshi’s head. He’s already wasted ten seconds of their time by the time he finds his voice to speak.

“I want you to give me back,” he states, his hands clenched in the hem of his shirt but he keeps his head high.

He has to make them understand that this is for the best and if he seems scared or sad then he’ll have to fight them on this. And he desperately doesn’t want to do that.

Hitoshi watches how Aizawa-san and Yamada-san exchange a look before they both give him their full attention.

It’s been more than a minute by now. He’s wasting time.

“Come again?” Aizawa-san finally says and Hitoshi takes a deep breath that totally doesn’t rattle in his chest.

“I want you to give me back.”

“Kiddo, that sounds like you’re some kind of pet we adopted on accident,” Yamada-san says and Hitoshi nods, because he might just be.

He’s like a dangerous dog, going to snap without so much as a warning, when all Yamada-san and Aizawa-san deserve is a cute little kitten they can dote on and cuddle without the fear of him going for their throats.

Hitoshi doesn’t allow himself to think about the cats he’ll also be leaving behind because he knows he’s not strong enough to go on if he does. So he simply concentrates on the two men in front of him.

“You didn’t know what you were getting yourselves into, so it’s alright,” Hitoshi reassures them because they both don’t seem convinced. “I know my previous foster family isn’t available for me anymore, but there has to be a group home nearby, or a correction center even, whatever takes me off your hands faster.”

“Your previous foster family isn’t around anymore because they are behind bars on account of child abuse, Hitoshi,” Aizawa-san says and Hitoshi presses his lips together.

It’s unfortunate, because at least with them Hitoshi would know what to expect but ultimately it doesn’t matter. He had to adjust to a new house so often he’s basically a pro at it by this point. He’ll figure out what’s allowed and what’s not, what the rules are, and which punishments are easiest to take. It won’t be a problem.

“A group home then,” Hitoshi tries next and again, Yamada-san and Aizawa-san share a look between them before Yamada-san pats the space next to him on the couch.

“Why don’t you come sit and explain to us why we should ‘give you back’, as you framed it?” he asks and Hitoshi can’t bring himself to move.

It’s too close to them, too dangerous for them to have him that close—even though his quirk is voice activated, even though there’s nothing physical he could do to them—so he stays right where he is.

The knowledge that they are not safe with him at all, even with distance hits him hard and his hands tremble with the effort to not clasp them over his mouth. He still doesn’t know enough sign language to properly express himself, to make them understand just how dangerous he is, and writing it all out would take too long, would mean he steals even more time from them, so for now he has to put it into words and make very, very sure that he doesn’t activate his quirk on accident.

He almost asks Aizawa-san to use his quirk on him, just as a precaution, but he knows how draining it is no him, how it leaves his eyes hurting and Hitoshi doesn’t want to hurt them. That’s the whole point of this.

“Or you can sit in the arm chair, if you’re more comfortable there,” Aizawa-san says when he doesn’t move or speak and the illusion of distance, the illusion of keeping them safe that way is enough to finally get him to move.

He doesn’t like the way they both look at him, as if they are unsure, but he reminds himself that it’s not for much longer. They won’t have to deal with him much longer and they will be happier for it, Hitoshi thinks as he sees the frown on Aizawa-san’s face and notes the downturned corners of Yamada-san’s mouth.

“Okay, care to explain where this is coming from?” Aizawa-san leans forward on the couch as he speaks, his whole attention fixed on Hitoshi even though there’s work right in front of him.

Three minutes now, maybe even more. He probably could have checked an entire page in that time and still Hitoshi is wasting even more.

“I’m dangerous. You have to give me back.”

They only blink at him, and in a startling moment of clarity Hitoshi knows what he has to do to make them understand even though it makes him sick to his core to admit it. It’s his last refuge; if he tells them and they note it down in his file then he’ll never be allowed to speak at all.

And still, it’s the only thing to do to make them understand.

“I lied to you,” he tells them and he pretends that he doesn’t notice how his voice shakes. “I don’t need to ask a question to activate my quirk. Every response I get to something I said is enough.”

He expects them to rear back in surprise, to try to get away from him as soon as possible or to get out a muzzle they kept hidden somewhere in the apartment but Yamada-san and Aizawa-san simply continue to stare at him.

“We figured as much when you took control of Shouta last week,” Yamada-san gives back and Hitoshi flinches.

“Then why did you continue to talk to me?” he demands to know because if they know how dangerous he is, why didn’t they send him away sooner? Why did they continue to converse with him as if nothing could happen?

Why did they make him bring this up?

“We wanted to give you more time to acclimate to living here. And because we trust you,” Aizawa-san simply states as if that isn’t enough to flay Hitoshi wide open. “You never took control of us before, never took control of anyone maliciously as far as we know, and we allowed you to use your quirk if you ever felt unsafe. You were in the middle of a panic attack and clearly felt more than unsafe, so it was completely in your right to protect yourself however you saw fit.”

“I’m dangerous,” Hitoshi whispers out because he doesn’t understand anything anymore but he has to make them send him away, no matter what.

It’s more than clear to him that they don’t know how to care for themselves and they are too nice to fall prey to Hitoshi.

He ruins everything and he doesn’t want to ruin them, too. They deserve better.

“Dangerous how?” Yamada-san wants to know and Hitoshi wonders if they are just pretending, if this is a test to see if he knows just how dangerous he is or if they really somehow missed this.

He hopes it’s the former, because the latter is unthinkable—they are pro heroes, they have to notice potential risks.

“I can take control of you at any time. I can—” Hitoshi has to swallow back bile before he’s able to continue because just thinking about what he could do, what he can do is making him sick. “I can make you hurt each other. I could make you kill each other.”

He’s not sure what kind of reaction he expected but it’s certainly not Aizawa-san huffing out a laugh.

“Kid, if the capability of hurting someone disqualifies you from having a family, from people caring about you, loving you, then we’re all fucked.”

Hitoshi doesn’t understand and it’s Yamada-san who speaks next.

“Of the three of us, you’re the least dangerous, Hitoshi.”

Hitoshi shakes his head, because it’s not true, his quirk is dangerous and evil and he doesn’t understand how they don’t get it.

“I could—”

“But you wouldn’t,” Aizawa-san interrupts him. “Yes, you could. You could do what you just said, and even worse, but you wouldn’t. Because that’s not who you are, kid.”

“My quirk is dangerous,” Hitoshi desperately says and Yamada-san shakes his head.

“It really isn’t, kiddo. My quirk is dangerous, so I would know. I could kill you with a well-placed hum. If I lose even a little bit of control I could liquify both of your insides and turn you into a jelly pouch.”

“Disgusting,” Aizawa-san huffs out and Yamada-san gives him a smirk before he simply goes on.

“If I get angry and shout I could level this entire block. I’m sorry to say, but your quirk really has nothing on that."

“I could kill you in two different ways without even having to step away from the couch,” Aizawa-san neatly takes over. “I wouldn’t even have to use my quirk; if I manage to get close to you there are too many ways to count.”

“You don’t understand,” Hitoshi gasps out, even though he is the one who doesn’t understand right now. “My quirk—”

“Takes control of someone,” Yamada-san says. “It makes them freeze up. It’s scary, to not be in control of your own body anymore, but that’s about it. For something bad to happen you have to decide to voice that out loud, to make that a command. And Hitoshi, you’re a sweetheart. You would never. Even when you were scared and panicked all you did was order Shouta to get away from you. That’s not something a dangerous or evil person would do.”

Hitoshi doesn’t know why everything is starting to get blurry but he can’t let that deter him. He needs to make them understand.

“I lied to you. I lied to everyone.”

“With good reason, kiddo. You already went through hell when everyone thought your quirk is activated with a question. I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened if people knew it worked with everything you said. You just made sure to protect yourself and that was very smart of you.”

“And from what we’ve heard you never slipped up. You never took control of someone by accident, which means your control is amazing. Which is just another reason why you’re not dangerous, Hitoshi.”

Aizawa-san sounds as if he’s proud of him and Hitoshi just doesn’t understand.

“You don’t understand, you don’t get it, I’m dangerous! I’m dangerous and evil and I’m going to be a villain and you have to give me back!”

“Why?”

“Because you’re too nice to be settled with me,” Hitoshi whispers out. Because he doesn’t deserve to have something good in his life and they don’t deserve to have something rotten in theirs.

“Then make us,” Aizawa-san says and Hitoshi’s head flies up.

“What?”

“Take control of us and order us to bring you to the nearest group home,” Aizawa-san says again and Hitoshi’s breath starts to come out faint and fast.

“I can’t,” he gasps out and Aizawa-san nods as if he didn’t expect anything else.

“Why not? It’s easy. I’m responding to you all the time. Why not simply do it?”

“Because I can’t. It’s not right! I would never—”

“Exactly,” Yamada-san cuts in and gives Hitoshi a reassuring smile. “You would never. And that’s all we need to know. You’re not dangerous, kiddo. You’re not evil or cruel or anything else that might have been said about you. You’re a kid with a quirk and you’re doing your best to control it. And you’re amazing at that. And even if you were to slip up, you’re too sweet to make us do anything bad. There is nothing for us to be afraid of.”

He says it with such conviction that it leaves Hitoshi floundering and for a few moments he can do nothing but breathe. The time at the back of his mind is still going, so he knows that they let him try to wrestle control back for almost two minutes before Aizawa-san speaks up again.

“Hitoshi, can I hug you?” he asks and Hitoshi jerks with the visceral need that evokes in him.

He never liked being touched, never imagined someone wanting to touch him without the intent of hurting him but these two have flipped his entire world on its head and he’s almost mad at them for it because now he craves it.

“Please,” he chokes out and he doesn’t even see Aizawa-san move before strong arms wrap around him and usually that would make him panic again, but Aizawa-san keeps his arms gentle around him and he has done this enough times for Hitoshi to recognise him from the touch alone and so he can only concentrate on the warmth of the embrace.

He leans into the body in front of him, buries his face in Aizawa-san’s chest and Hitoshi isn’t sure why he deserves this, why they are still willing to allow him this but he doesn’t want to argue with them any further.

It already took all of his strength to bring this up in the first place and he doesn’t have it in him to do it again.

He jerks in surprise when another hand settles on his back, but he quickly relaxes when he realises that it’s Yamada-san.

“Hitoshi, we will not give you back. We’re very happy to have you here and we have never regretted taking you in for a moment. Not once. We’re not scared of you.”

It’s enough to rip a sob from Hitoshi and still they stay close instead of yelling at him to get a grip and shut up. They allow him to cry and cry and cry and not once do they give any indication that he’s an inconvenience to them even though he ruined their entire evening.

The timer ran out once it hit the thirty minutes Hitoshi set himself as the deadline and he can’t find it in him to mind that. Not when Aizawa-san is still holding him and Yamada-san is still stroking his hand up and down his back.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually sobs out and Aizawa-san hums.

“You have nothing to apologise for, kid,” he reassures him and Hitoshi almost doesn’t trust it, because he always has something to apologise for even if it’s only his general existence, but Aizawa-san sounds certain and sincere and maybe Hitoshi can trust it.

Can trust them.

“I don’t want to leave,” he admits quietly, almost hoping that his words get swallowed by the fabric his face is still pressed into but of course they pick up on it.

“Then you won’t,” Yamada-san says, as if it could be as easy as that and it brings new tears to Hitoshi’s eyes. “You’ll stay right here with us.”

It’s a promise as much as it is a reassurance and it almost makes Hitoshi cry again.

He gives himself another minute before he pulls away from Aizawa-san. He lets him go easily, though he does keep a hand on his shoulder, just like Yamada-san keeps his hand on his back and they don’t look at him with hatred and contempt.

They seem worried, if anything, and Hitoshi has a hard time wrapping his head around that.

“Sorry for ruining your evening,” he mutters out as he rubs away stray tears.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Yamada-san immediately says and he gives Hitoshi a blinding smile.

It used to be too much, seemed almost scary to Hitoshi in the beginning, but now it only makes him feel warm. Just like Aizawa-san’s steady gaze.

“Are you feeling okay?” Aizawa-san wants to know and Hitoshi nods, not sure if his voice will hold after crying for that long. “Do you understand that we have no intention of sending you back?”

It’s still almost unfathomable to Hitoshi that they don’t, that they haven’t even thought about it, that they don’t care about his quirk and what he can do. There’s still that nagging thought that he needs to decide it for them, that he needs to take care of them because they are clearly too nice to do the hard things themselves, but maybe—

Maybe he can trust this. Maybe they are sincere.

It takes him a bit longer to nod this time, but they only patiently wait until Hitoshi finally manages it.

“We’ll make sure to remind you,” Yamada-san says, patting his back because he clearly noticed Hitoshi’s hesitation and even Aizawa-san’s face softens into an almost smile.

“As often as you need to hear it,” he adds as if it isn’t at all annoying to have to remind Hitoshi again and again, as if he has memory problems.

“You don’t have to do that,” he croaks out, because he’s already enough of an inconvenience for them but apparently they don’t think like that.

“But we want to,” Aizawa-san easily says and wipes away a stray tear trailing down Hitoshi’s cheek. “Now, I’m thinking some tea for us and Hizashi can order some take-out, huh? How does that sound?”

“Good,” Hitoshi mutters, because his throat is scratch from crying and now that the dread of what is to come is gone, he feels kind of hungry.

“I’ll make sure to order your favourite,” Yamada-san promises Hitoshi with a pat of his head before he leaves for the kitchen and Hitoshi marvels at the knowledge that he means exactly that.

Yamada-san knows his favourite food and he doesn’t order something Hitoshi hates for the fun of it and then forces him to eat it and it’s a novelty that fills Hitoshi with warmth.

“We trust you, Hitoshi,” Aizawa-san says when Yamada-san is gone and Hitoshi almost instinctively tenses up at that, because he knows how this goes, what comes next.

So make sure not to disappoint us.

It’s a useless warning, because Hitoshi always disappoints everyone in the end.

“So trust us as well,” Aizawa-san goes on and it’s surprising enough to make Hitoshi freeze.

It almost doesn’t compute, what Aizawa-san says but it’s clear he’s waiting for a response so Hitoshi forces his mouth open, unsure what’s going to come out.

He wasn’t prepared for it to be a vulnerable truth.

“I want to,” he admits and he feels raw with how much he wants. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” Aizawa-san says it as if Hitoshi has given him a wonderful gift and Hitoshi ducks his head.

He doesn’t know how to handle that look, doesn’t know how to handle any of this, but maybe he can learn. Maybe Aizawa-san and Yamada-san will be there to teach him and to make him understand.

It’s a nice thought and when Aizawa-san hands Hitoshi a mug—his favourite, the purple one with a cat face on it—and ruffles his hair as well and then offers him the seat right next to him on the couch without expecting anything, without pressuring Hitoshi, he finally allows himself to hope.

Maybe he can trust them.

Not completely, not immediately, but enough to take the offer and carefully settle himself next to Aizawa-san, who gives him one of his rare almost-smiles before he goes back to grading.

It’s not long before Yamada-san comes back, promising them both that he ordered all of their favourites and when he inclines his head in a silent question, asking if it’s okay if he sits next to Hitoshi, he finds himself nodding.

It earns him another blinding smile before Yamada-san’s weight settles next to him and Hitoshi thinks that maybe he can do this.

Maybe he can be good, and trust and stay.

He would like that.