#presentmicxreader

[blackenedwhite97]

Holding Together an Erasermic x Reader Poly Story

    An Erasermic x Reader Poly relationship story.

This is a direct Sequel to Two Times the Love, Two Times the Worry.

MORE ORGANNIZED WATTPAD POSTING:

https://www.wattpad.com/story/216604201-two-times-the-love-~a-poly-erasermic-x-reader

    This story includes: injury to the reader, MILD sexual content, discussion of body image, post trauma mental health, mentions of mild violence, cursing and a prominent polyamorous romantic relationship.

     Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 11.7 K

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke damp with sweat, the ghost of the inferno filled cyclone burning in your palms. It was still dark in your apartment, only the faint, cool light of the streetlights slipping through the closed blinds. You had beaten the sun to rising once again, the room was still cool without the sun beating in. Through the patchwork of light and dark you could see Hizashi, curled up in the duvet, pressed into Shota for warmth. His golden halo of hair swallowing the pillow beneath his head and the better part of Shota's face. It was coldest during the earliest hours of the day; you couldn't stand being warm anymore. It felt suffocating and panic would start to boil up inside of you if the feeling went on too long.

You hated what that day had done to you, even if Hizashi and Shota acted as if it didn't bother them. Hizashi was a blanket hog on a normal day but since you needed the bedroom kept cold to keep the nightmares at bay you'd wake up to him shivering in Shota's arms. The worst part was that he would always check the thermostat to make sure the room was cold enough before going to sleep regardless. And you knew it drove him crazy when you had wiggled out of his arms in the first few weeks of being home, but you couldn't help it. The warm embrace felt like you were being caged in by fire. Everything warm felt like that fire.

You hated this. You hated being the fragile one, the one who would get upset over the thermostat or being hugged for too long. You hated that they were so good at bending to your will because everything was supposed to be about compromise. You felt like a tyrant and them, your subjects. You wanted to hold your partners at night, you wanted to feel close to them.

You crawled to the end of your bed as quietly as you could manage and padded across the cool wooden floor, changing the room temperature before you left. You kept the lights off in the apartment, the darkness feeling safer than the heat that came along with turning the lights on. There were no blinds in the main part of the house, but the sky was still an inky blue and you wouldn't have to worry about hiding from the sun for a while yet.

The nighttime was the only time you'd been able to look at the sky. It was funny, two months ago you'd have given anything to look up at the daytime sky with all your night shifts. Now the sun felt too hot on your face and the bright light would burn images of fire and smoke into your mind. The night sky wasn't so bad when the business sector downtown turned down their lights for the night. There were stars and blinking planes and sometimes the dim glow from the city would illuminate beautiful patterns in low hanging clouds. You leaned back against the kitchen table and stared out the window, out at the sky while you still could.

"You're not sleeping." It was tired and rough, but it was definitely Shota's voice.

You looked back over your shoulder to see Shota standing in the doorway, his messy hair wild with sleep. His eyes were barely open but still trained right on you. There was no hiding things with Shota, that's not how you and him worked.

"No. I can't." You mumbled.

He nodded his head and yawned, lazily dragging his feel towards you. He leaned back against the kitchen table, his shoulder just brushing yours. Normally he would have hugged you, you knew he didn't for your sake. You hated this, you hated yourself. You remember when he got hurt at the USJ attack, how really all that had changed was that he had become more cautious at work. You were pretty sure that was for yours and Hizashi's sake as well. He had handled it all so well, you hated that you couldn't.

"What's happening in there?" You hadn't noticed that he'd been staring directly at you, a soft expression gracing his features.

You side glanced at him; you couldn't hide the hurt in your eyes. Hizashi was a talker and a fixer, he tried to fix things for you and talked about just about everything with you. Shota was the listener; he'd stayed up more late nights with you just listening than you could count, just listening. Those tired eyes saw more of you than you thought you'd ever be comfortable sharing with anyone. What to tell him. You couldn't quite grasp what was happening inside of you enough to make enough sense of it to tell him. It was hard, isolating.

"I'm tired." You settled on.

"Yeah," He nodded; his shoulder brushed yours again. "sleep's supposed to be good for that."

You smiled despite yourself. He was a dork.

"Nightmares?"

"I'm tired." You repeated with a nod.

His eyes were so soft and warm, you felt like you could melt into them. He was sad, sad in the most innocent of way. He was sad for you; you could see that. You hated it. You hated that he was sad, and that it was for you.

"Sleep gets easier with time." He looked forward, towards the skyline.

"It's been two months." You whispered, a lump forming in your throat.

His hand found your thigh and gave it a soft squeeze. You stared down at his hand, the two golden bands that encircled his ring finger reflecting the streetlights. "You just need more time."

"You didn't." you folded your hands together in your lap and looked off into the skyline, a silent frustrated tear spilling down your face.

You could feel him turn to look at you. He was quiet for a moment, his breaths deepening. "After USJ?"

You nodded.

"I-" he paused, clearing his throat. "I tried. I couldn't. When you took mornings off for those first few weeks and Hizashi came home early there were still these hours where I was alone. When the silence would-"

He cleared his throat again. "Can you look at me?"

You bit your bottom lip to try and stop the quiver that threatened to escape. You didn't want to look at him, you didn't want to because you knew you'd break. You'd break more than you already had, and you were so, so tired. But you couldn't say no, you couldn't deny him something so simple, so easy as looking into his eyes. So, you did.

You turned to meet eyes that mirrored your own, they were tired beyond sleeplessness, enduring beyond pain and yet there was a warmth in them. Still, even as you broke, you looked into his eyes and felt safe. It was okay to break here; he would hold you together.

"I went back to work, back to my life because the silence that taking time gave me was filled with the sound of my own skull getting crushed. It was filled with my student's terrified eyes and the taste of my own blood." His hands found the sides of your face. "I couldn't feel that. I couldn't feel that every day and get better. But you, you need to start feeling, Y/N. You're allowed to feel however you need to, for however long you need to. You almost died, alone with a burning building on top of you."

Your tears were freely flowing now, they were hot against your skin. "I've been doing nothing but forcing my feeling all over you guys!"

"No, Y/N, you haven't." He pulled you closer to him, holding your head to his chest. "You've been hiding away. Away from the living breathing world, away from feeling what you went through. Away from that fear. You almost died; you're allowed to be afraid. And you're allowed to need us to help you."

He was being so reasonable; he was being so good to you. You wanted him to tell you to get over it, you wanted Shota to knock some sense into you. You wanted to be okay again, you didn't want to be scared, you wanted to be like you were before. A white-hot rage welled up in your chest. You pushed away from him and smacked him in the chest. Again. And Again. You pounded against him until your rage grew to a simmer and your arms grew lethargic with sorrow.

He took it, his arms reached out towards you embracing you again when your weary arms fell to your sides. You caved into him, his arms swallowing you in a fiery hot embrace. Every part of him that touched you felt like suffocating hot coals, but you couldn't pull away. You needed so very badly to be held. The two of you sat like this for a while, the dark kitchen beginning to fill with the faintest light from the sun's earliest rays.

"One day, during my lunch break I broke down in my classroom." He began to whisper into your hair. "I couldn't feed myself with the bandages, I felt so useless. I had to wait for Zashi to come and help me with the most basic of tasks, he took so much time out of his day to help me with almost everything. So, when he came in to find me crying into my unopened instant noodles he was pretty worried. He thought I was going off the deep end."

He chuckled softly to himself. "When I told him what was wrong, that I felt like a burden to him he had the gull to laugh in my face. I didn't get why he would laugh back then but I kind of get it now."

He ducked his head down so he was eye level with you as you leaned against his chest. "We love you, Y/n. We know that what happened to you was traumatic and we never expected you to just be okay. You not being okay isn't a burden to us, that's what we're here for. When times are good we celebrate together and when times are rough we hold each other together."

What last store of resolve you had tucked away inside of you left. "I was so scared."

"I know. I was too." His arms tightened around you. For the first time in weeks, you felt the cold air around you, and you were glad someone was there to keep you warm.

*******************************************

The next time you opened your eyes you were alone in bed, dust dancing around in the beams of sunlight that streaked across the room. The room was warm, but you didn't feel that suffocating panic creeping in. Instead you felt comfortable. It had been a while since you'd felt comfortable in your own bed, especially with any sort of sheets draped over your legs. They were thin, the duvet rolled up at the bottom of your bed, but they were there, and you didn't feel like they were smothering you.

The bedroom door creaked slowly open, light pouring in from the kitchen window. A white bundle of fur glided into the room and leaped up onto the bed, making itself comfortable on Hizashi's pillow. You ran your hands along her back, satisfied purrs filling the air.

"You just wanted some love, hm?" you cooed. "What are those mean men doing out there that they can't give you pets?'

You looked at her, you knew a response wasn't coming but every pet owner still waited. She melted into the pillow and eventually rolled to the side away from your hand, having decided she had had enough of your love for the time being. You rolled over and sat up, your head felt heavy and cloudy from your early morning crying session. Yet, the perpetual tiredness that had haunted you for weeks felt farther off today. You looked down at your palms, the scars on your arms had nearly all been healed away except for your palms. Two swirling scars of raw red skin twisted over your hands fading away as they reached your wrists and fingertips. You examined your left hand, specifically the missing pair of rings from your finger. You had lost the rings in the fire, the heat ruing the settings of the stones. The doctor who had healed your hands said it was miracle you got away with such light scaring.

You crouched next to your nightstand and rummaged through the drawers until you found a small ceramic box where you had put your damaged rings. The box was a handmade piece Hizashi's mother had given him, it had a serene garden scene painted across it and gold leafing around the corners. She'd given it to him when he told her that he thought he'd found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, not knowing he'd have to wait for a few more years before being able to give it to you. Shota had, and still does, a criminal lack of jewellery to store in it at the time.

You slipped the rings on, they fit together like a sun fits into a crescent moon and gave them a long hard look. They held each other together. You smiled to yourself despite the waves in the bands and the missing stones and decided to go scold your two boys for neglecting the cat.

Hizashi was at the stove, and to your surprise you couldn't smell smoke. Shota was nowhere to be seen, giving you another thing to scold him about. You padded across the floor until you reached Hizashi and wrapped your arms around his waist. You rested your chin on his shoulder and bumped the side of his head with your own.

"I'm sorry." You whispered.

He looked at you, surprise painting his featured. Then he smiled and pressed a long kiss to your temple. "Don't worry your pretty little head about any of it, babe."

He turned around in your arms and hugged you against him, his goofy crooked grin sparking in the morning light. "Can you take over? Shota left and I'm scared I'm gonna start a fire."

You laughed and judging by his wiggling eyebrows he was mighty proud of himself for it.

"Yes, yes." You grabbed the spatula from his hand and gave him a firm rap on the ass. "Go sit down."

He had been attempting pancakes, the batter tasted like crayons but that was nothing a little starting entirely over couldn't fix. So, as quickly as you could, so as to keep suspicion of changing the batter off of you, you whipped up a new mixture. This one spelled of vanilla and was much more pleasant golden-brown in color. You loved Hizashi but if he tried to cook for you one more time you were going to have to do something about it. You made a round and put them on a dish on the counter that was up for grabs, adding to the pile as you went through the batter.

Just as the last pancake hit the plate the door opened, a snow-covered Shota stepping through the doorway. He was greeted by the cats who made a mad dash off of Hizashi's lap where they begged for table scraps, to get to him. He shed his boots and coat and shook the snow out of his windswept hair. His normally pale cheeks and nose rosy from the cold air. He dropped a pile of papers on the counter and reached out to grab a warm pancake.

You smacked his hand lightly with the spatula, giving him a dramatic stink eye.

"What?" he pouted, pulling his hand back towards himself.

"You left him alone to cook while I was asleep, you naughty boy." You scolded. "Do you like this apartment?"

"Feeling better?" he grinned at you, darting his hand out at inhuman speeds to grab a pancake. "Plus, you're like really good at putting out fires."

Hizashi started coughing wildly tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. That little shit was laughing at that. He banged on the table, a spray of chewed pancake pelting the table. As soon as his airway was free a long scream laugh came out, the plate on the counter clattering under the reverberation. While Hizashi found it somewhat mortifying when he accidentally slipped up and lost control of his quirk you found it highly entertaining. It was like when people snort when they laugh only he emitted intense sound waves that sometimes shook the room. Adorable.

You mocked offense and blew a concentrated stream of air at the pancake in Shota's hand, breaking the top half off. It flopped to the floor and the cats began to ravage it as if they hadn't been fed in days. Shota stared at you, a small gasp leaving his lips. There was something happening behind his eyes, something devious.

"Oooooo." Hizashi cheered from his seat at the table, clearly enjoying the show. "What will he do in retaliation?"

Hizashi's voice echoed around the apartment, no doubt the neighbours could hear the bizarre commentary through the walls. Shota's eyes lit up. Just as he started to take a step around the counter towards you Hizashi's phone rang.

"Hello?" Hizashi answered, his hand flying up in a cut it out motion.

Shota sprung forward and you tried to lunge away but he caught you by the waist and pulled you into him. You squeaked and he slapped a hand over your mouth.

"Shhhhh, he's on the phone." Shota whispered monotonously in your ear; he seemed so calm for a guy seeking revenge over a lost pancake.

"Oh, hello principle Nezu." Hizashi greeted loudly, clearly signalling you two to stop. "Yes, he just got in. Did you want me to put you on speaker?"

Hizashi gave the two of you a very stern look, which coming from the human embodiment of a disco was real rich. He placed his phone down on the table and tapped speaker, waving Shota over impatiently.

"You're lucky." Shota pecked you on the cheek and let go of you. He made his way to the table a plopped down next to Hizashi. Watching them work was weird for you, Shota never talked so much without stopping then when he was telling Nezu about reports and Hizashi was rarely so on track with his stories. It was like the opposite of running into your teacher at the grocery store in sweatpants, but it the same mildly unsettling feeling.

You eyed the dishes, you guessed you could do them while they were on the phone. That would be nice of you. But then you remembered that Shota needed to make up for his blatant disregard for your apartment's well-being and letting Hizashi cook unsupervised and thought better of it. Instead you thought a shower would do you well, you hadn't been taking enough of those in the few weeks. Simple things had felt hard lately, brushing your hair, do laundry, showering, even feeding yourself regularly. But today was a good day and keeping with that theme you decided to take care of yourself a bit.

The bathroom was easily your least favorite part of the apartment. Shota and Hizashi were pretty good about letting you take the reins on the apartment. Shota couldn't care less and Hizashi was happy as long as he was allowed to display his American vinyl collection and various posters. You had to veto some of them, the man toed the line of decency on a daily basis and some of those posters wouldn't have gone over well when your parents made the occasional visit. The bathroom is where all of your things combined into one big pile of disorganization.

Shota had one 3-in-1 shower gel bottle that sat in the corner of the shower, unable to sit on one of the over filled ledges Hizashi had crammed full of half empty conditioners. When you had tried to explain your friends how obsessed he was with hair they really only half believed you until you sent them pictures. He used so much hair spray getting his hair to stand up like a cockatiel that he needed to use conditioner to soften the hair before shampooing. Hizashi was also very particular about his fragrances, he'd buy a bottle of something and decide after a few uses he didn't like the smell and so it fell to obscurity in your three-foot by three-foot shower. You used to have a shower caddy you stored under the sink and hung off the door but now a days you just stole from Hizashi's heinous collection. Today the Tea-tree and Eucalyptus Healing Shampoo and Watermelon Summer's Picnic Shower Gel sounded good, you smelled clean anyways.

By the time you were done in the shower you could hear Shota ending the conversation, Nezu's soft melodic voice bidding the pair farewell.

You wrapped yourself up in your towel and padded into your bedroom, a closet filled with all of Hizashi and Shota's clothes and none of yours. Laundry hard. If you were honest you had the most clothes, Hizashi was the high fashion one but wore the same rotation of four or five outfits. Shota, to no one's surprise, owned seventeen pieces of clothing including his two identical hero outfits that were worn to shit. His pitiful wardrobe was made of three colors, black, white and one very bright pair of pink track pants. He wanted to try something new he said, Hizashi never let him wear them out of the house.

You could started to root through the closet or anything that was yours that wasn't formal or professional wear. Your riffled through a pile you had begun to make in the back corner, the pile of hoodies and jeans you'd worn a few too many times, until your hand made contact with a cool leather jacket stuffed away. You pulled it out and it unfurled from its neatly folded square. The fire had left your hero gear melted and burned; some parts even disintegrated in the fire. Your agency had rush ordered a new on for you, that was months ago now. Before you had sat around your apartment sulking and eating for months. You could still fit into it, yeah. No, you totally could.

You dropped you towel and started the process of donning the ensemble, the under shirt fit you like a glove, the familiar breathable sport fabric hugging what small amount of definition you still had. The stab proof vest was still ridiculously heavy, and you had to pull a little harder to get the straps done up at tight as you usually did. But all was still well until you made it to tactical pants. There was very little stretch in the fabric, the heavy cotton offering none what the pleather panels on the side strained around your thighs and hips.

You weren't much bigger by any means but the button was a chore to do up and you filled out places that you hadn't before and when you looked at yourself in the mirror you were reminded again that you were different than before.

A low whistle made you jump. Heat flushed through your cheeks and you suddenly felt like you needed to hide parts of you that weren't even exposed.

"Damn!" Hizashi crooned. "Hey pretty lady, you got a boyfriend?"

You looked over your shoulder to see Hizashi leaning against the door frame and despite his oversized pyjama pants and stretched out t-shirt looking at you up and down over the top of his glasses in the most sensual way.

You look back at yourself in the mirror and pouted. You felt ridiculous that you almost died and the thing you were upset about, at least for the moment, was a little bit of weight gain. You poked your lower stomach and looked past yourself in the mirror at Hizashi.

"I look chunky." You announced sadly.

Hizashi gasped as if he'd just been hit in the chest, a very melodramatic air of incredulous disbelief washing over him. He was the sweetest man in the world, if not the most needlessly dramatic. "I neg your pardon madam but I will no allows you talk about my girlfriend like that!"

You smiled despite yourself. He stepped into the room. "She is a goddess I'll have you know!"

"Zashi-"

"Ho no!" he waved you off. "She is the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on and I will not rest until ye too has seen the light!

"Zashi, stop-" your cheeks were positively on fire now.

"What are you yelling about?" A mess of dark curls and sleepy eyes popped into view through the doorframe.

"This beauty," Hizashi grabbed you by the shoulders. "thinks that she is 'chunky'."

He acted as if the world tasted bad in his mouth.

Shota looked you up and down and shrugged. "I think you look fine."

"Fine? Fine!" Hizashi yelped. "Get out. You're ruining everything I'm trying to do here, Sho."

Hizashi threw his hands up in frustration, waving Shota away like an eccentric artist offended by muse-less subject. Shota put his hands up innocently, looking between you two awkwardly. "She's knows what I mean, Zash."

"Be gone!" Hizashi daring not you look at him.

"Zashi, I know what he meant it's fine." You reach out a grab his dramatically outstretched hand.

"No, you're too good for him." He declares, pulling you in for a hug. "Get out!"

Shota backs away out of sight, hands still raised in innocence.

"Zashi, he-"

"Is the worst." He says, resting his chin on your shoulder. His hands slide down you back, resting on you hips. "I, however, can appreciate a stunning woman and her stunning curves."

You giggle into his shoulder and rest your forehead against his chest. "Thanks."

He's quiet for a moment, his hands slowly drifting south. "Not that you weren't absolutely bangin' before but babe, you're ass in these pants right now is unreal."

You giggled into his chest. He snuggled deeper into your shoulder and breathed you in. He was holding you like he could lose you, as much of him touching as much of you as possible. You knew the last few months had been hard on him, he craved touch. Even now you felt like if he could he'd sweep you up into his arms and never let you go, but he was holding back for your sake. He really was the sweetest man alive.

"Did you- use my shampoo?" he muttered against your hair.

"I'm trying to thin out the herd." You muttered back.

"Sho threw some out the other day." He pulled away, sniffing himself. "I stink."

He really didn't. He was always afraid of smelling bad though.

"Yeah I noticed, I could see the drain." You smirked.

He mock laughed, squinting at you in offense. "If you weren't so hot, I'd be offended."

You felt a cheeky grope of your behind before he darted away at the speed of light, with a stupid grin plastered to his face, into the washroom and locked the door. You sighed and began undressing, even his over enthusiastic pep talk not quite appeasing your dysphoria.

Instead you swiped Shota's shame pink track pants and one of Hizashi's t-shirts. When you stepped into the rest of the apartment Shota was at the kitchen sink washing the last of the dishes from breakfast. He looked up and grinned at your pants.

"You know what I meant right?" he asked.

"Yes." You laughed. The only person that could make Shota second guess anything was Hizashi, his opinion mattered the world to him. Even if he liked to pretend he as too cool to care. "I know."

"Good." He looked down at the sink for a moment. "because I mean that you looked fine because you were saying you looked bad and I just meant that you didn't look-"

You walked across the room and cut him off with a peck on the lips. If you didn't know better you might say that he was afraid he'd offended someone.

"I know." You said again.

"Good." He said again.

"So, what's up at work?" You asked, more so to change the subject than to really get filled in.

Shota knew that but was grateful you were moving the conversation along. "The students are wrapping up their internships this weekend and I have to do some onsite evaluations, Vlad is away on a mission so Zash is filling in for him this weekend. Oh shit, that reminds me. We'll have to be away this weekend. Are you- do you think you'll be okay-"?

"Alone?" you finished his sentence. A few months ago a weekend without the boys would have been like a little vacation, a you weekend. Now it seems like a daunting hurdle you weren't sure you were quite ready to launch yourself over quite yet. "Um, not sure."

You both stood silently for a moment, you could see his mind at work. He sighed. "You could- come along? I could do the students here in Musutafa this afternoon and Zash could probably get his done too and then we can head to Tokyo for the rest of the weekend. If you're up for traveling."

Your mind strayed to your woefully empty closet. You could do laundry or..."And shopping."

"Shopping?" he grimaced. Shota hated shopping, of any kind. While he could cook and even enjoyed it, it was a battle to get him to spend enough time in the market to get all of the ingredients. He'd usually end up calling you on your way home from work and give you an item or two he was too impatient to have picked up during his first trip. Clothes shopping was even worse, hence the impulsive pink track pants, he didn't give himself enough time to think it through.

"I'll shop while you work. Then dinner?" you suggested.

He smiled and hummed in agreement. "Mm, a nice dinner sound good to me."

"A nice dinner?"

"Yeah." He nodded to himself. "We deserve it."

You smiled. Out of the three of you he was the "we have food at home" person in the relationship.

*******************************************

You stared down at the little carry on style suite case on your bed. You had ended up having to throw some of your clothes in with Hizashi's laundry in the end. Your shopping plan did require you to have at least one set of clean clothes to actually go shopping in, after all. And while you were fine wearing the track pants of shame around the apartment you wouldn't be caught dead outside in the real world with them on. Besides, no one would believe they were Shota's and you couldn't do Hizashi dirty like that.

Shota, much to Hizashi's dismay, had booked three tickets for the seven a.m. train to Tokyo. He figured that the sooner you all got there the sooner you could get everything done and the more time he'd have to nap before dinner. Shota preferred taking naps when needed and since he patrolled at night usually, he wasn't prone to long nights of sleep. So, this plan only seemed rational to him. When Shota needed to wake up he woke up, he'd have to sooner or later so why prolong the inevitable, he could just go back to sleep later. Hizashi on the other hand was always savouring things, food, sleep, kissing, everything.

It was only two days, but you had too much stuff for a backpack and too little to really fill out the suitcase, everything would be rattling around in there getting wrinkled and battered. You looked around for anything else you could pack, a pair do shoes you might need, or a jacket you forgot to grab. The only thing you had left out was your hero ensemble, draped over the back of the chair that was crammed into the corner of your small room. It was from your old apartment, before you had met either of the boys and when you moved in the cats seemed to cling to it, so you moved it in the bedroom and got rid of the mulching scratching post Shota had put there. It was there chair now.

You didn't really need it, you knew that. There's a ridiculous amount of heroes in Tokyo, no way you'd be needed for anything. But you did have the space. You looked back and forth between your suitcase and the suit. It would fill the gap. Fuck. Fine. You folded it up quickly and shoved it into the carry on, shutting the bag and zipping it up before you could change your mind. You wouldn't need it. But you shouldn't be caught without it, regardless of the last few months you were still a hero.

"Hey!" Hizashi called from the front door. "I'm- Fuck!"

There was a cluster of small thuds followed by one big thud. Hizashi spewed all the naughty words he knew, and you could hear him fumbling around.

"You okay?" you called turning toward the door of the bedroom.

"Don't!" he huffed loudly. "Don't- just uh, stay in there for a second! Kay?"

The apartment tremored slightly with his exasperation. You smiled to yourself imagining him flailing around trying to pick up a cluster of things, getting increasingly frustrated as they continued to fall. He could be so smooth when he wanted to be but Hizashi was also ridiculously clumsy. None of the dishes you moved in with survived the first two years.

You heard a drawer open and shut, cutlery clattering. Then silence.

"Okay!" he breathed.

You popped your head out of your room. He was leaning against the counter nonchalantly, his arms crossed against his chest and his butt pressed the cutlery drawer closed. A puddle of water forming at his feet as the snow stuck to his jacket and in his hair began to melt. He was trying to tame a smile that tugged at his lips, he was a bad liar. There was a reason Hizashi didn't really go under cover and this was it. He was barely able to hold it together during civilian rescue simulations with students let alone pretend to be a whole other person in life or death situations. While you were sure this wasn't a life or death situation, he was still definitely hiding something.

"Hey." You smiled.

"Hello." He responded.

"How're Vlad's students?" you asked, eyeing the drawer.

"Great! Yeah, no they're killing in." He nodded awkwardly, biting the inside of his lip.

The two of you stood in silence for a long minute, you could see him start to sweat. You looked directly into his eyes, his green orbs alight with something akin to fear. You started to grin despite yourself. The calmer you were the more he started to squirm.

"Hey!" he practically yelped. "Don't you need too...take the cats for a walk?"

He cringed inwards. You shook your head and laughed. Shota must also be a part of this, or he would have cracked by now. As much as you wanted to know what on earth they were up to Shota there would be consequences if Hizashi cracked. "I'm gonna close my eyes and count to fifty."

"Thank-you!" he squeaked from his defensive corner of the kitchen.

You smiled, closed your eyes and began your count. You could hear him jump into action, literally. He was bouncing around like crazy, cutlery rattling, footfalls sporadically sounding around you, rummaging through a bag by the door and eventually the bedroom door closing and locking. You hit thirty and opened your eyes, both of the cats were staring at the bedroom door on high alert after the hurricane of the man. You could hear him being a careful and quiet as possible in your room, shuffling things around in the set of drawers that you didn't put anything in.

You busied yourself with the cats, who after witnessing such a violent storm surely needed some love. You slumped into the couch and pattered across the cushion next to you with wiggling fingers until the grey short haired jumped up and began swatting and pouncing. You ran your hands across the couch wildly until he began finally grabbed on and demanded affection. You massaged his stomach, the vibrations from his purrs running through your fingers lulling you into a half sleep as the apartment turned golden and darkened as the sun set.

Just as your eyes closed and your mind strayed into dream a kiss planted firmly on your forehead brought you back. You blinked back into consciousness and looked up to find Shota, windswept and rosy smiling down at you. "

Sorry." He mumbled. "I didn't know you were asleep when I went in for the kiss."

You smiled up at his sleepily. "Mm no, that's okay. It was a nice wake-up call."

You reached up and picked a chunk of snow out of his hair, tossing it towards the waterproof mat at the front door. "Anyone dead?"

"Miraculously no." he sniffled. "Get to bed, you're going to hurt your back sleeping sitting straight up on the couch like that."

"What time is it?" you lifted your head and looked out the big window in the kitchen, the sky was already a smooth dark blue.

"Just after eight." Shota mumbled. "Have you eaten?"

You shook your head. Shota was the caretaker of the house, while he was never antic like a mother he often found himself checking up on you a Hizashi. Particularly when it came to the basics of taking care of yourselves. It's not that you nor Hizashi were inept at taking care of yourselves, but rather Shota knew firsthand that it can be hard to even feed yourself sometimes. He spent years of his life secluded from people outside of work until he was wrangled into becoming a teacher at U.A. and from what little he talked about that time you got the idea that he was on the barely functioning level for months. "I thought I was only asleep for a few minutes, but it's been like three hours."

"I'll make something, then. Is Zash here?" he padded towards the kitchen, snow and water rolling off of him.

"Yeah. He uh-" you looked to towards the bedroom, the door still closed. "-I think he's in the bedroom."

You walked over to the door and tried the handle, still locked. You pressed your ear against the door and the only thing you could hear was the muffled sound of music and deep breaths. He fell asleep. He locked the door, put headphones on and then fell asleep.

"Sho," he looked over his shoulder at you. "we have a problem. Sleeping beauty has fallen asleep but locked the door on us."

That tired teacher look spread across Shota's face, the look he got when he had to mark essays or fill out yet another accident report for that student who wouldn't stop hurting himself. He leaned his forehead against the fridge and sighed. "I was daydreaming about that bed today."

You walked over to him a wrapped your arms around his waist. "Oh buddy, we can sleep on the pull out."

Shota groaned, placed his hands-on top of yours and muttered under his breath. "Dick."

You placed a kiss on the back of his neck and started to pull him backwards towards the living room. You pulled until the back of your legs hit the couch and then you flopped backwards, pulling him down on top of you. It was a flawed plan from the beginning; he was much bigger than you.

"We can cuddle, though." You wheezed, his body pressing yours into the couch.

He laughed and tried to turn around so he could prop himself up on his arms. "We could have cuddled in the normal bed too."

"Downer." You mumbled into his chest.

He rolled his eyes and leaned back against the couch, sliding an arm under you and depositing himself between you and the back of the couch. He snuggled his face into your shoulder and sighed. You felt him deflating into you, and in turn you melted backwards into him. He was warm but not burning. He took a deep breath though his nose a let out a long yawn.

"S'not bad." He murmured and you knew he was already falling asleep. He was like a cat, if he stayed still for long enough he could just close his eyes and be out like a light. But like a cat, he could jump up whenever he needed too.

You followed his breaths as they evened and slowed and soon you too were slipping into sleep.

*******************************************

Your eyes opened and found darkness, the phantom flames of your dreams still swirling in your mind. You sucked in a cool breath and peeled your sweating back away from Shota who was still holding you against him. You tumbled off the couch, landing on your knees. You grunted as the pain shocked your system, a cool shiver running up you body. Clarity took hold of you and you sunk back onto your legs and leaned your head against the couch. You tried to count your breaths but every time you'd get to two or three you'd get frustrated and choke on a sob before trying to calm yourself again.

A single hand found your cheek and you leaned into it, the feeling of another person grounding you. You could hear Shota clamouring off the couch as he settled into kneeling in front of you. Both of his hands wrapped around your head, pulling you into his chest where the sounds of his breath flooded your sense.

"You're home." He hummed. "I'm here."

You huffed a shaky breath into his chest, trying to let him know you knew. He just ran a hand through your hair and continued whispering soothingly to you. He began to rock side to side slowly, syncing his movements with his breaths. In, left. Out, right. You gripped on to his shirt and followed the rhythm.

"Sorry." You muttered into his shirt when you finally caught your breath.

"M'no, no apologies." He purred. He held you like this until you fell again into sleep, this time is was blank and whole. The world seemed to put itself on pause so you could rest in his arms until you were stirred you awake again by gentle hands. The world still darkened with a sky not yet stained with the early sun's rays.

*******************************************

"Hey, hi. Good morning." A pair of gentle hands brushed your cheek and jaw.

You blinked into the dark apartment, a dim light filtering out of the open bedroom door. A mass of blonde hair haloed in warm light was silhouetted in front of you and as your eyes adjusted you could see the pale gleam of light off of a pair of big round eyes. You scrunched up your face, stretching the stiff skin, dried out with last night's tears. "G'morning sleeping beauty."

Hizashi sighed and hung his head. "That's fair. Can you, can you wake up Sho? It's like quarter after six."

You sat yourself up slowly, still heavy with sleep. "Wake him up yourself, coward."

He was quiet for moment; you could picture the doggy eyes swelling across his face. "But," his voice was soft a sweet and innocent. "I'm scared."

A sharp pain spiked up your spine as you tried to roll you your feet. "I slept on the couch all night, I have no sympathy for your fear."

He sighed and audibly pouted. "Fine."

You struggled to your feet; the second half of the night being spent on the ground was probably what had wreaked so much havoc on your body. Your hips were sore, the dull kind of sore the came along with bruises. The pain in your back was sharper. Something pinched somewhere, and your spine was bent some sort of way because of it. It wasn't over whelming pain, only flaring you breathed inwards and tried to move really at all. You groaned a rolled your shoulders as you clamoured towards the bathroom for a shower you could probably get away with not having but you needed something to help calm your tense muscles.

The warm water hit your skin and even though you knew you had kept it cooler than you ever used to, it started to feel like it was burning you. Like water just edging on boiled was pouring out of the shower head. You leaned off to the side out of the way of the showerhead and turned it down more. The residual spray cooling into a chilled mist. You kept to the edge of the shower as you worked up the courage to go back under the shower head, fearful of the fire that you knew didn't exists.

The shower door opened on you and in jumped a naked Shota, hair wild with sleep and eye circles darkened. His eyes drooped low as he shut the door and promptly cursed as the cool water rained down on him.

"M'awake now." He groaned.

"Sorry." You mumbled and reached to warm up the water. He shook his head and pulled you towards him resting his chin on top of your head. You stand with your face pressed into his bare chest for a moment until you notice his breaths have evened out suspiciously. "Are you using me to hold you up as you sleep?"

"No." he breaths in, pulling away and opening his eyes again.

"We have to hurry, sir." You scold him. The water's temperature finally hitting you with the chill it truly carried. You shivered and turned the tap to the right while scanning the obnoxious amount of soaps in the shower. Shota groans and reaches across you for his single bottle of 3-in-1 shower gel and shampoo and you both begin the process of speed showering.

By the time you were both out and dressed Hizashi had burned two pieces of toast, thrown them out, opened a window, made four more pieces for you and Shota (unburned) and went to warm up the car. Shota, infuriatingly so, was a day of packer. You truly believed he was the only person in the world that could get away with it since his wardrobe was a series of identical item and the forbidden track pants. He threw everything piece of clothing he owned, save the suite tucked far far away and the track pants and took everything to the car.

By the time you three were peeling out of the parking lot, Hizashi the only one awake enough to drive, the sun was beginning to peak up beyond the skyline. You slide into a parking stall at the train station just in time to look up at the departure schedule and find a thirty-minute delay on your train. Hizashi sighs in relief, you could see the sweat pouring down forehead as he drove. You could even see Shota eyeing him worried as he was basically unraveling at the thought of being the reason we had slept on the couch and being late. Hizashi, for all of his confidence in the realm of public speaking and morale upkeep was beyond terrified of being burden. It's why he adapted so quickly with his quirk, sure it has combat capabilities, but he knew he could do more. So, despite your sore back and aching hips you clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he looked up at the sign.

The terminal was empty. A handful of weekend shift workers milled about to and from train platforms but for the most part it was the three of you slouched over various pieces of furniture with your phones hanging out of outlets nearby.

"Coffee?" Hizashi jumped to his feet, his insistent squirming not enough to hold him at bay. Shota had taken to ignoring him this morning unless the matter really demanded his attention. The first and only thing Shota had said directly to Hizashi since waking up was giving him directions. You looked at Shota who was doing and awfully good job at being distracted with a day-old newspaper.

"Yeah, he wants a coffee." You answered for him. his eye twitched, he didn't want to give in, but Shota would also take a coffee IV if given the chance.

"You?" you could hear the disappointment in Hizashi's voice at Shota's persistence.

"I'll come with." You said hopping to your feet. "Guard our stuff."

"With my life." Shota dead panned, not looking up from the newspaper he was staring blanking into.

You and Hizashi explored the west terminal of the train station, there were three different coffee shops and one gift shop with a coffee dispenser. You picked a coffee shop you didn't recognize hoping it was a local shop, most chains in the area being known for burning their coffee terribly. You got some sort of iced coffee with sweetened cream and Shota was order and black coffee. Hizashi spent two minutes staring blankly the menu before panicking and ordering what you did despite having no line behind him and the barista being an absolute sweetheart. Just as she served you your final drink you spied her "Put Your Hands Up Radio" shirt and suddenly realised why Hizashi had panicked.

It was equally adorable and annoying when someone recognized him from his radio show. Adorable because most of the time they were very sweet and he, being the sweetest man alive, would turn into an actual golden retriever. Annoying because it seemed to happen at the worst times, and occasionally they would get to comfortable. You had made the conscious decision a long time ago to let it slide as much as possible but Hizashi was still your partner and you still had to bite back a bark occasionally.

You assumed that running into a fan when his day had started so rough was probably one of Hizashi's nightmares. That, and bugs. Always bugs.

"Is he ever going to talk to me?" Hizashi whined into his coffee.

"Eventually," You hum into yours. "you're too cute to ignore."

Hizashi grinned into his cup. For a man who pays others so many compliments, especially his lovers, he still blushes like a schoolboy when receiving one. You brushed against him and leaned your head against his shoulder. He draped his free arm around your shoulder and the two of you strolled back to Shota.

If you had thought getting comfortable at the train station was difficult then doing so in the train was impossible. The chairs reclined so little that it felt like you went from leaning forwards to sitting straight up. You ended up putting up the armrests in Hizashi's row and using him as a back rest, draping your legs across the two seats next to him. Shota took advantage of his now vacant row and laid down across the seats, his legs hanging off into the isle. Usually it was Hizashi would have to be reminded that you were in public to keep from sitting like an absolute mess in a chair but given that it appeared that there were only 2 other passengers on the train car you and Shota decided you deserved this. Hizashi curled his feet up and stayed completely still for the forty-minute train ride to Tokyo.

*******************************************

Tokyo was a busy as ever, the streets literally swarming with people. Musutafa was a busy place, especially on weekends, but Tokyo as on a whole other level. It was the type of place that you had to keep looking around to make sure you weren't going to get swept away by the crowd. The city felt so much taller than Musutafa, shops stacked on shops topped off with a another few stories of billboards and glowing screens. Everything was bright and vibrant and by the late afternoon your neck was hurting, and you were starting to need that nap Shota had scheduled before dinner for himself.

Shota and Hizashi had gone to the hotel with you and checked in before going their separate ways to find students spotted around the city. Hizashi still pouting as he left having not been graced with another word from Shota since stepping foot into the city. You gave Shota a sour look, but he blinked blankly at you and pretended not to pick up on it before leaving. You looked down at your phone, the battery low from having not had a chance to fully charge it since yesterday. It was quarter to four in the afternoon meaning Shota and Hizashi should be getting back to the hotel in the next couple of hours.

You looked at the set of bags in your hands, it was mostly just jeans a size up from you normal fit and a single dress you decided that you deserved. There was a shop with a double floor tall display window showcasing hundreds of pairs of shoes on the way back to the hotel and as you stared down at your worn-out sneakers you decided you might need some knew footwear as well. You could last one more quick look in a store before calling it quits.

When you got to the store front it was brighter than you remembered it, probably b/c the high afternoon sun had muted the waterfall of swaying LED lights that glimmered behind the showcase. It was a cool blue tinged white light, a few hazy multicolor strings blinking buried deep int eh waterfall. The rhinestones sneakers and patent leather heels shone in the light sending flares everywhere. The store was its own disco ball of overpriced shoes.

You stepped inside and made a b-line for the back corner filled with less glittery and expensive shoes, not that you were completely able to stop yourself from eyeing up a few pairs on the way. After a few minutes you noticed that the street went quiet, but that people were pooling into the store and stumbling back away from the windows. You squinted past the waterfall curtain of lights just as a thunderous roar rang out from the street shaking the shelves in the store.

You ran forwards on instinct, dropping your bags by you side. You weaved your way through the crowd until you reached the doorway. A giant reptilian bird hybrid creature crouched in a halo of upturned pavement, lighting humming through his legs. Fifteen feet away from him two kids, no older than fifteen stood, braced against each other. Both stood rigid, their skin hardened like stone and metal. They mirrored each other, a perfect team. A few feet in front of them the four armed hero, Fourth Kind, skidded to a halt with a trail of dust and his arms thrown up in defense.

You eyed the two young heroes, the one in red suddenly sparking images of evaluation sheets spread across the kitchen table. He was one of Shota's students. Your gut tightened around itself suddenly, now he meant something to you. Though you hadn't met Shota's students this year he was abnormally fond of them. They had brought him a lot of happiness and fulfillment and there was a part of you that felt like you owed them for that. The fire lighting under your feet was quickly extinguished when the creature was joint by a second one, this one more humanoid and spouting fire.

It felt like all the blood flow in your body had stopped, everything rushing down to the ground. You went cold as the flames flared across your vision, your palms stinging. You tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat, you needed to breath. Fourth Kind lunged forward, his sheer strength causing another explosion of pavement was one of the creatures skirted the blow.

The one wielding fire huffed and jumped forward, sending a jet of swirling flames clean over Fourth Kind's head. For a moment you felt a tinge of relief watching it miss the hero until you realized what was in its path. The stream of flames swelled into molten sphere, smoking through the air towards the two students.

Without thinking you shoved your hands forwards and up, a pillar of air rising up in front of the boys. The flames were swallowed by the currents and launched up into the sky, narrowly missing a flying figure before snuffing out. Your palms stung as if you had just touched the fire yourself but now you could feel your blood rushing through you. You stared at the boys who in turn stared back and for a moment the three of you existed in a shocked silence that fell from time.

The ground shook again, the lighting wielding creature pounding it's fists into the ground. Around his sign sparked and blew, puffs of flames and sparks flying everywhere. The three of you refocused, the two of them shoved off of each other and darted in different directions, making it harder for the creatures to get both of them. Your lip twitched; Shota taught them something after all. It's not that you didn't have complete faith in Shota but there was a part of you that feared he perhaps too distant of an instructor at times.

You were suddenly very aware of your body, every inch of you buzzing with life. Beside you a woman gasped and looked on at you, admiration sparked in her eyes. He looked at you like you were a hero... which you realized for the second time this week, that you were. You turned to the creatures and took a deep breath, shoving down the fear that lapped at your guts.

"I got this." You muttered to yourself.

Fourth Kind spared you a glance before gritting his teeth and readying himself for another attack. An idea struck you, it had been a while since you had worked with a team but you mind was starting to catch up again. You jogged forwards and prepared a gust.

"Need a boost?" you called.

"Wouldn't mind it one bit!" Fourth Kind grinned.

You swept your hands forwards, putting your whole torso into the movement, and launched him forwards. He jettisoned into the creature too quickly for it even make an attempt at dodging. You created a pocket of air just under him as he tumbled forward, diffusing it so he could land softly on the other side of the creature's prone body.

You could feel sweat forming on your brow and a part of you scolded yourself, you would have never broken a sweat this soon a few months ago. A set of a heavy wings sounded above you, sweeping dust around your feet. You looked up to find Hawks smirking above you, something a kin to excitement reaching his eyes.

"Wanna give me an updraft?" he asked, already sending himself forward. You shook your head to yourself and began stirring a current for him to ride. He never waited after asking you for some wind, that smug kid would be sure be surprised the day you decided not to provide it.

Within seconds the street began to flood with stray heroes from the area and emergency crews. Lights flashed at either end of the street, barricades no doubt being erected to stop through traffic. You tried to spy the two young heroes, losing them in the chaos of the two creatures battling with no care to their surroundings. The metallic one caught your eyes and he barrelled towards a crumbling pillar to use himself as a substitute. It was a noble effort but he was sentencing himself to death but immobilising himself. You rushed after him with the intent of clearing the building so he could let it fall. Building could be rebuilt but once lives were lost they were gone.

You ducked in and began waving people out of the tiny shop, sending them around the corner down an alley way. When the building was cleared you made sure you were clear of the fall zone. You pulled the student towards you, watching the front half of the building crumble. In a flash a figure came flying at you, four flailing limbs sailing towards you. You huffed a strong breeze at the student next to you, shoving him just far enough away from you that when Fourth Kind made contact he only took you down with him. You tried to cushion your fall with an air pocket, but mis calculated in the confusion and instead landed under the hulk of a man and rolled for a few feet settling in a cloud of dust.

"Get back in there." Fourth Kind gritted his teeth and growled, not missing a beat. "Watch the kid."

You rolled onto your knees and with as much force as you could shoved a pillar of air into his back, shot putting him back into the fray. A second wave of heroes rolled in from the street over and soon you found yourself being more a hindrance with all the close-range fighting. Instead you grabbed the metal skinned student by the collar and hauled him back into the alley.

"Woah, Hey! What's the big idea!?" he growled.

"Stay put kid!" you huffed. "It's a ridiculous amount of paperwork if you die during your internship! Plus Fourth Kind is a fucking terror."

"Hu- What?" his anger, in a split instant morphing into confusion.

"Sit still until I can find Sho- Mr. Aizawa. He'll need to report on your status." You were really, far too out of breath for how little you did.

"Mr. Aiza- who are you?" he exclaimed.

"His- roommate. Let's find your friend." You could feel the road rash blooming across your forearm and down your leg. It felt rough but survivable.

"Kirishima!" the student began shouting instantly. Almost as if by comical convivence the stone skinned kid's head popped around the alley way wall. He scuttled towards you, pure fear etched across his face.

"Phew. I thought Mr. Fourth Kind was going to kill me if I didn't find you!" Despite being covered in dirt and freshly forming bruises he was still smiling a wild toothy grin.

It didn't take long for the pandemonium in the street to come to an end, although it did take more heroes than you would have thought to take down those creatures. You and the boys crept to the edge of the alley way, watching the bustle of the situation being contained. Emergency vehicles sped by, lights flashed and faded off in the distance and heroes filtered in an out. Eventually when the crowd thinned out you spotted the tall cockatiel hair of Hizashi, he was gesturing wildly at a group of students who were trailing behind him like a row of ducklings.

"Come on." You waved the pair of students towards Hizashi.

When the two of you made eye contact through the crowd it was electric, you could see the completely foreign teacher persona fade from him for a split second and the excited puppy you knew so well replace it. He was quick to recover, ushering the line of students along with him as he crossed the street towards you. You could see his arms twitch, fighting back the instant reaction to hug you. You smiled at him and opened your arms. He gladly took the chance to give you a quick hug, it felt all wrong and too casual of course. But it was something.

"Have you seen Sho?" you asked, pulling away from him.

"He hung back a couple of blocks with some students." Hizashi nodded, suddenly very serious. "Those were- uh- things from the USJ attack."

"Oh." A chill ran down your spine as you thought about Shota and what must have happened inside of him when saw them. It was probably pretty similar to that ice cold fear that drained you of your life when those flames first roared past you. "I have one of his students."

You gestured behind yourself.

"And mine!" Hizashi exclaimed. With a dramatic set of finger guns and a discerningly charming smile considering the disaster zone you were standing in he addressed the metal skinned student. "Testutetsu, stay with me my man until Fourth Kind is free to take you back! Alright!"

That deadly seriousness gone before you really knew how to respond to it. He was good at that, keeping the end of the world feelings away. "I'm going to go find Sho, okay?"

"No need." Shota's deep calming voice called from a ways away. Behind him two students trailed, one with an incredible set of wings and a mask pulled over his face and the other with bright yellow eyes and a stupid grin. Kirishima darted towards them, smiling as if he hadn't been pelted my rubble and debris for several minutes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." You waved him off. He didn't look convinced as his eyes scanned your thigh and forearm. You looked down to see a lot more blood that you were expecting. It didn't hurt as much ach the growing red stains would portray. "They're shallow."

"Let's get it checked out anyways, I have to get Kirishima check out so you might as well come along." He sounded so indifferent. He was usually tired, close to deadpan but in front of his students he really tried hard not betray himself. You knew it was to help keep them calm, if he was calm they were calm. You knew that. It was just weird.

"Mr. Aizawa I'm okay, really!" Kirishima tried to wave him off.

"Don't care." Shota grunted. There he goes, caring. "You're getting a check-up. Stay here."

Shota turned away and wandered off to find some unclaimed ambulances flagging a pair down. The EMTs made their way through the line of students handing out bandages and ice packs where needed. Shota directed you to the other where a young woman helped you some antiseptic and bandage pads. She let you sit on the edge of the loading door to take the weight off your leg until they need to either load someone in or take off.

It took a good thirty minutes, but the students had been filed away with their respective Internship placements and your partners made their way to you. Once he was sure everyone that was immediately recognisable was gone from the street, Hizashi places a quick peck on your cheek and jumped up to sit beside you. He leaned into you, and you into him.

"Are you okay?" Shota asked again, this time his eyes were glued to mine. He was intense like the other night; he wasn't looking at me but into me. "I know one of them had fire."

You let out a breath. The image of the fire still sent a pang fear through you, but you could still breath, could still move. "Yeah. I'm holding it together. Are you?"

"Y-" Shota stopped for second, looking into himself. You gave him a real answer, he owed you one too. That's how you worked. "I'm holding it together."

"Good." You smiled up at him and he relaxed, the faintest of smiled spreading across his lips. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door of the ambulance.

The three of you sat there, silently. The busy world around you thinning out to a moderate crowd. Your eyes started to droop, sleep pulling at you eyelids and willing them to close.

"Hey, do you guys still want to go to dinner?" It was Hizashi who finally broke the silence. You blinked, trying to clear the sleep form your mind.

"No." It was Shota. "I just want to go to sleep."

You nodded against Hizashi's shoulder and hummed in agreement. It was quiet again. Only this time you could feel Hizashi moving underneath your head, he was trying to be subtle but even with your eyes closing you could tell he was trying to communicate with Shota. Shota pulled away from the ambulance and took a few steps away, facing the street. You watched him fidget with his pockets, he was nervous. Suddenly you were nervous.

You leaned away from Hizashi a looked to him, concern evidently across your face. He instantly went into reassurance mode, his voice awkwardly squawking once or twice, shaking the ambulance. "D-don't worry! It's not bad! Sorry we just uh-we-"

"We wanted to give these to you at dinner and make it kind of special." Shota explained. He had turned around and squatted down in front of you. In his hands he held a rather large jewellery box, six rings sitting neatly inside. Four of them simple bands, one rim on each begin made up of interlocking designs with the other. The top on one gold, the bottom silver. The last two rings were almost exactly like the two warped rings on your finger currently, the two metals matching the pairs of bands.

"We never had matching sets really, so we thought, since yours got ruined it was a good excuse to get some made." Shota scratched his beard awkwardly.

You were smiling. It was a big, dumb, lovestruck smile. It was that smile you had when your high school boyfriend showed up on Valentines days with a teddy bear. It was a puppy love smile. "I- can I put it on?"

"Oh, yeah!" Shota took yours out of the box and reached out for you hand. You gave it to him, and he gingerly slide your old rings off, making sure not to disturb the bandages around your wrist, and slide the new set on. He stepped back and look a long look at it.

"Zashi did the designing, obviously." Hizashi's ears pricked up at the direct mention of his name for Shota. He looked up at him shyly.

Shota rolled his eyes and chuckled. He started taking one of the sets of bands out of the box. "Give me your hand, Goldie Locks."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

DONE! This i think is it. This second part became a bit of beast when i really got into it and because i hate releasing un finished work I sort of had to force myself finish it. I'm worried that if I try to continue this story I'll end up killing someone  because catch me only being able to write sad shit.  I hope you enjoyed the read!

ALSO!!! I've been asked for some fluff and it will come, i just need to chill for a bit. Holding Together was 38 pages long and I wrote it in just over a week.

[blackenedwhite97]

Trials ( An Erasermic x Reader Medieval AU Ch.3-4)

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

https://blackenedwhite97.tumblr.com/post/643722830321696769/trials-an-erasermic-x-reader-medieval-au

CHAPTER 3

Mid Summer

The man who died that night had been the son of some noble in a city in the south, otherwise, the mayor may have overlooked the allegations against you in light of the attempted assault and robbery. Supposedly, it was a family with much more money than the humble village that sat at the foot of the hill your cottage had perched on. It was in ashes now, your cottage. The medicine and herbs, gone, what little money you had had gone to the "church", or rather the clergyman's pockets. And the only precious item you owned; a necklace of your mothers hung in a stall across the street with a tag that read 'Cursed. Previously Owned by Witch'. It had yet to be touched. Even the stall owner was too paranoid to take it in at night, instead, he'd just leave it pinned to the board and cover the stall with a sheet.

It was the dead of night by the time the bars at your back had begun to feel properly cool against your skin. They were chilled enough that you could slouch back and not have to worry about needing to muster up enough strength to throw yourself forward anytime soon. You'd spent much of the first day in the cage curled forward into yourself, trying to hide from the eyes of the villagers who walked by to gawk at a witch. You had been stripped of the blood-soaked clothes you wore when you were arrested for fear that you could use the blood as a component in one of your spells. You were sure that there was also the added satisfaction of the amplified humiliation you suffered on that first day. After that you grew uncaring about your body being on display as it began to peel away under the sun, you were in too much pain and too weak to suffer anymore through humiliation.

You closed your eyes and rested your head between two bars, this was about as comfortable as you could get. It was almost peaceful at night, there were no townsfolk out due to fear of the monsters of the night and the small shy animals would come and scavenge what they could from the streets. You could hear the little pitter-pattering of bunny hops in the grass behind the hanging cages and the occasional clink of scaled bird feet pattering atop your cell. There was a creek that ran through the eastern side of town that you could only hear when no one was around to make so much noise. You could hear everything, which is why it came as so much of a shock to you when a gruff voice sounded in front of you.

You tensed and opened your eyes. Shouta stood in front of your cage, his hair tied back and the beginnings of first shaped bruises marked his cheekbone and jaw. His hands were raw and one of his knuckles had a deep gash, likely from a poorly parried sword. You'd bandaged up a few adventurers in your time as a healer and had heard every story that could be told about how a wound could be secured, from gryphon talons to great bear mauls. It was almost always, in fact, humans cutting each other up. He was calm, it was hard to tell in the dim wavering light of the small torch he held but he looked as though he might be smiling. It was a friendly smile; one you might throw on when reunited with an acquaintance.

"D'you think you can hold this?" he asked, holding the torch out toward you.

You nodded and tried to straighten up, the muscles in your back screaming for you to stay still. You winced and held your breath but persisted in your struggle. Shouta reached his hand through the bars, palm open in offering. Lifting your arms was easier than sitting up and with the help of his unexpectedly gentle grip you were pulled forward. You held onto the bars in front of you with one arm and took the torch with the other, holding it above one of two dangling padlocks that held you in your cell.

"Thanks." Shouta huffed as he crouched and fished around in one of the many pouches stung upon his belt. He withdrew a roll of leather-wrapped with a cord; an ornamental crest stamped into the leather's surface. He unwound the cord and let the leather unroll to expose a litany of small metal tools organized into pockets.

"Try not to light my hair on fire, please." He side-eyed the torch next to his head and guided it a little farther from his with a single finger, you could have sworn there was a small grin pulling at his lips as he settled back into his work. Dick. You were weak but you weren't that weak. Not yet anyway. You let the torch fall a little farther back, not quite far enough away so that he couldn't see the lock but far enough that it was noticeably dimmer.

"Ah, the witch has a sense of humor." Shouta grumbled as he sorted through his roll of tools. He settled on a pair of small metal utensils, one was hooked at the end and the other was an L shape.

"Alleged." You corrected, leaning your forehead against the bars to watch him work at the lock.

Shouta just hummed at that, his mind now clearly focused on his task. You were feeling more and more paranoid as time went on, any stirring of bushes or rustling of leaves made you tense up and try to maneuver yourself into a position to scout out the possible onlooker. Instead, you found scavenging rabbits, lively birds, and one slightly limping street cat. You'd have fed her if she had wandered up to your cottage, and perhaps tried to mend the kink in her tail.

With a click and a small groan from the lock, Shouta unhooked the first of two locks, stood, and began his work on the lock at the top of the door. You maneuvered the torch so that it wasn't directly below his hands and wafting uncomfortable amounts of heat directly at his hands, but off to the side. It wasn't until you heard the far-off rumbling of a cart that you realized that you and Shouta had been alone now for a remarkable amount of time, nearly ten minutes now, without and patrolling law-keepers appearing. In fact, you hadn't seen any for a little over an hour, which was an unprecedented gap in time for the town square to be left unsupervised. As you watched Shouta's hands work you eyed the deep gash on his knuckle and what you could see of the bruises forming on his face and it suddenly occurred to you where he'd gotten his injuries from.

The cart grew nearer and nearer, the point that you were waiting for it to come around the corner at any moment. You'd alerted Shouta of the cart a minute ago and he seemed bothered by it, yet his confidence did little to calm your growing anxiety. The sound of the wheels on the dirt road ground on, getting louder and louder until it all of a sudden stopped short of the square. There was a muffled pair of voices and panicked horses then nothing. The town grew eerily quiet and you once again could hear the stream on the other side of the market.

You peered across the square towards where the cart sounded as if it were coming from and through the dark street you saw a figure walking with reins in hand of two horses on either side of them. As the figure grew nearer you stirred in your cage and tried to get Shouta's attention without being too loud, he could still flee without being seen at this point. Shouta paused and looked over his shoulder, sniffed, and turned back to the lock unphased. You looked on with horror as the figure approached until the moonlight crested over the tall buildings and you saw familiar long flaxen hair, slightly mussed and swaying in the breeze.

There was a click, and a gentle metallic groan, and Shouta's hand flew out to hold the cage door, which you were leaning on, from swinging open. You could cry in that moment, even without the cage door open you felt free. You looked down at the padlocks, rusted and covered in the dusty road. You had beat them, in a manner of speaking. Shouta had. Shouta Had just freed you.

You looked up at him, tears in your eyes. His face was really bruised now, his stray hair danced in the torchlight wildly and his clothes were covered in the dry dusty dirt from the road but still, he looked divine to you. He was, in a more literal sense than God had ever been, your savior. He looked at you blankly for a moment, then as if remembering himself, blinked and threw on a more pleasant expression. He reached for the torch and you handed it to him through the bars.

"How are we getting along?" Hizashi strolled right up to the pair of you. He too looked rougher than when you first met, though his face bore no bruising nor did his gloved hands.

"Hold." Shouta instructed, handing the torch back to Hizashi.

"It's gone well, I take it." Hizashi took the torch and eyed the locks on the ground. "And you, how are you?"

Hizashi looked up at you, his eyes soft and the small smile on his lips comforting. Hizashi, as you were learning, was the more genuinely expressive of the two. Not that Shouta had ever been cold to you, his gestures just didn't reach his eyes the same way.

You reached for the bars next to you and pulled yourself to them so that when Shouta opened the cage door you wouldn't spill out. He slowly opened the cage door until he was sure you were going to stay put then he let it swing fully open. He held out his hands and you took them gingerly unsure of how much you were going to be able to do yourself in terms of getting out. Shouta shook his head and let go of your hands and reached into the cage, one arm pulling your legs out gently and supporting them under the knee before hooding his other arm around your back and lifting you out with ease. Despite how gentle he was trying to be the contact directly on your blistered peeling skin was so painful you let out a shaking breath, trying to dull the pain with breathing techniques you often told your patients to use when you were stitching something or removing debris from a wound. It didn't help and now you understood why they gave you such crossed expressions when you said it.

There was a part of you that was happy to be out of the cage and grateful beyond description to these men for saving you but there was another part of you, growing by the second, that was staunchly aware that you didn't really know them.

"I can stand." No, you couldn't. "I just need a mo-"

"It's alright." Shouta hummed, adjusting you in his arms so you were leaning more heavily into him. "I've got you, now."

You looked up at him, at his bruised face, and saw a kindness that reached his eyes. The tears that were welled up in your eyes finally spilled and you turned into his chest and let them fall, water staining his tunic.

CHAPTER 4

You were gripping onto Shouta's waist for your life as he rode full force northward, the horse's thundering footsteps filling your ears. You had been riding for a long while, the poor horse beneath you was close to being spent and you could tell as its speed faltered. Shouta kept riding until the horse quite indignantly refused to go any faster than a walk. You'd wound up in a thin strip of marshland with the occasional deeply hunched whomping willow and cluster of waterlogged bushes. The sky was darkening, the blue of the afternoon had long since given way to the golds and oranges of sunsets and was now fading into a deep purple. Your legs were numb, ghost vibrations of horse hoof beats still rolling through your hips and lower back.

Shouta stopped under an especially distorted tree with roots so large and gnarled that you could curl up into the curve of one and disappear if you so pleased. He jumped down, starting a pace back and forth through the murky ground before realizing you were having trouble dismounting on your own. Without a word he grabbed you by the waist none too gently and lifted you down, placing you on your feet in the mud with a squelch. You wrinkled your nose at the sound and the feeling of the bud sinking into the boots Hizashi had gone back into town to get you a day or so ago.

Shouta, wordlessly unloaded the travel bags and the bedroll from the horse and tossed them into a pile against the thick roots of the tree. Everything about the way Shouta was moving put you on edge, sure you'd seen him somewhat annoyed or frustrated over the last five days but you'd only ever seen a glimmer of emotion compared to this. This scale of energy was comparable to Hizashi's jittering nature, his movements were sporadic and uncoordinated. Eventually, having spent way too long on a buckle, Shouta growled in frustration and kicked a long dead stump, shattering the fragile wood. He paused and took a deep breath before turning to you.

"Sorry." He muttered. It was the first thing he had said since "we have to go".

"S'okay." you muttered back, settling down on one of the tree roots. You patted a space beside you and looked back at him. "Sit?"

Shouta huffed and looked at where your hand was patting for a moment but shook his head. He paced again, muttering the occasion word to himself. "You know how to start a fire?"

"Y-yeah." You stammered.

"Good. I'll be back." Shota started walking away, back towards the south from whence you came. You thought about calling after him but thought better of it. Perhaps if it were Hizashi you would have but there was something in the way that Shouta had been furiously trying to stay calm that worried you, that scared you. You watched him fade into the distance until all of a sudden he was gone, disappearing with the blink of an eye into the tree line.

It took you a while to find dry enough wood to make a reasonably sized fire for warmth but you got one going on a small patch of dry land where you and the exhausted horse settled down. The horse tucked its legs under itself and went straight to sleep while you decided to take a look around once the feeling had fully returned to your legs. The marshland was vast to the north but to the south, east and west you could see trees. All sorts of plants poked out of the water nearby, many of which were familiar to you. There were small clusters of pink and white flowers on tall thin stems for pain, thick green gel-filled leaves for burns, and dark green aromatic leaves for disinfecting and cleaning wounds. You collected bunches of each and wandered back to the fire, settling in and spending the rest of your waking hours cleaning bugs from your finds.

You awoke to the smell of cooking meat and the sizzle of moisture hitting the fire. Your eyes flew open and just as panic gave way to alertness your eyes met Shouta's across the now sizable flames and you relaxed.

"Sorry." he gruffed. He was calmer now. "I would have woken you when I got back but you looked like you needed the rest."

"When did you get back?" You yawned looking up at the pale pink sky: the sun was just beginning to rise.

"An hour or so ago." he shrugged. Shouta's eyes were encircled by deep hollows and his shoulders hung lower than usual. It was as easy to see that the man hadn't slept at all through the night as it was to read the words 'I'm exhausted' scrawled across a page.

"You can sleep if you want, I can stay up and keep an eye out." You offered, unfurling from your bedroll as the day's heat already began to swell. If you had the courage you would have asked about Hizashi but there was something unsettling about the calm that Shouta was experiencing right now, as if it were the type of calm that warranted a storm.

"It's alright," Shouta grumbled "we'll eat then head out. I know where to find Hizashi."

"R-really? Is he alright?" you straighten right up at that news. As much as the events of yesterday had provided you with an inescapable and harsh reminder of reality, you had grown fond of the men whose charge you found yourself in.

"I-" Shouta sighed and clenched his fist. "I believe so, he didn't indicate if he was injured."

"He didn't indicate- wait, how did you hear from him?"

"We have a system when we travel, if we get separated we go to the nearest crossroads with a signpost and leave instructions on how to find wherever we're held up." Shouta explained, holding a folded piece of paper to you.

You reached for it stopping to look at his hand, poorly wrapped in torn fabric no doubt from a cloak or tunic.

"Your hand-"

"S'fine." Shouta waved you off.

"Let me tend to it." You looked up, into his eyes. "I'm the one who-"

"I started you, it's fine. It's good that you were prepared." Shouta looked away, awkwardly

"Shouta," you huffed "I'm cleaning it and bandaging it properly before you die from flesh eating disease!"

Shouta smirked, it was a painfully small twitch of the lips, but you saw it. "That's dramatic."

"I've been a healer since I was fourteen," You scold him "I know wounds."

"Fine." He sniffed, still holding out the letter. You took it, at the same time gently grabbing hold of his hand.

It was somewhat cryptic, but you could tell Hizashi had written it in a hurry because it didn't take you very long to pick up on the pattern. The last line of instructions ordered you only to approach the barn he was hiding away in at night so as to not alert the farmer. You looked up at Shouta and shook your head.

"What?" He asked, wrinkling his nose as he looked at his hand as you unwrapped his haphazard bandage job.

"He said to wait until nightfall." You raised your eyebrow at him.

"how-" he looked away "and?"

"And you were just going to ignore that order, weren't you?"

Shouta gritted his teeth, he was fighting some kind of expression off. He didn't want to betray how he was truly feeling but you could gather it all on your own.

"He's precious to you." you smiled, you hoped it was a genuine, kind smile. One that made him feel warm and understood. You really hoped it didn't look cruel or taunting, that would be the opposite of what you were going for. You reached for the bag of supplies he'd left next to your bedroll. There you grabbed a water skin and bandages and began blotting away at his hand with clean water.

Shouta looked up at you, surprise clear as day across his face. Bright red roses bloomed in his cheeks and like a child being teased he stammered and looked down at his inturned feet.

"W-well, I- I guess." he grumbled, trying to fold his arms but failing to do so as you held his hand in place. Taking a deep breath he looked up at you and sighed. "Yes, yes he is. I-I love him."

There was a moment where the two of you looked at each other and a silent exchange happened. One in which you suddenly understood the extent of Hizashi and Shouta's relationship, and that their love runs deeper than that of friends or even brothers in arms. You see a yearning in Shouta that is not only for love but to be with the one he loves, a yearning so strong and absolute that he must already have found that person. You keep smiling at Shouta, this time you're sure it's kind and warm because he can't help but smile back. It's a small sheepish smile and it's plagued with uncertainty and embarrassment, but nonetheless, it's there. In this moment of silent exchange, you feel as though Shouta understands where you stand, just as you were beginning to understand yourself. You, whether you liked it or not, were with them now.

"Right." Shouta broke the silence and plucked a skewer of meat from around the fire. "H-here."

"Still raw." You smirked. "I'm almost done."

You and Shouta sat in silence, him fidgeting with a small folded up map from one of the pouches on his belt.

"We're not going until nightfall, Shouta." You chided him as you watched him stubbornly trying to trace out a path with his free hand.

He stopped and groaned childishly. "What if he's hurt?"

"If he were really hurt he'd have told you knowing full well that there would be hell to pay once you found him if he hadn't." You reasoned, trying to crush some of that dark green leaf between your fingers to make a topical liquid.

This time Shouta's groan was less of an annoyed groan and more of an accepting grunt. He knew you were right and he also knew that Hizashi was capable of taking care of himself, he just needed to keep reminding himself of that. Shouta flipped the map over a leaned back fully against the tree.

"I'm going to go mad sitting here all day." He grumbled to himself.

You smiled to yourself as you rubbed the crushed edge of the leaf against his wound, so he wasn't so stubborn after all. You suddenly remembered your herbs you'd been sorting through before sleeping and found most of them in a cluster next to your bedroll.

"Here," you grinned to yourself, humored "you can pick the bugs out of these. It'll keep your hands busy."

Shouta almost grinned, you saw that tug at the corner of his mouth, as brief as it was. He breathed out heavily through his nose as if he was trying to keep his grumpy exterior together. He didn't make a move towards the pile. "Oh no, Shouta. I'm serious, make yourself useful."

He gave you an incredulous look. "I broke you out of jail."

"That was three days ago, so far today you've been doing an awful lot of moaning and groaning." You nodded towards the herbs. "Get cleaning."

Shouta didn't move and for a moment and you were sure that you had prodded the bear too much, but sure enough, he reached forward and examined the pile. "I need fresh water."

"Hmm," you thought back to last night "I spotted a fresh pool not too far north. The water looked clearer than the marshes."

Shouta nodded and stared into space for a moment before coming back to himself. "I need to bathe."

You glanced down at yourself and found more dirt under your fingernails than you'd have preferred and felt a wholly encompassing feeling of filth. You also needed to bathe, desperately. "That was the happiest idea you've had yet."

Shouta grinned despite himself, instead of embracing the moment of reprieve Shouta embraced the oldest tradition of manhood, and quite literally ran away from his feelings. As soon as you tied off the bandages he stood and started gathering the herbs, and rolling up the bedroll. The whole time he refused to give you the satisfaction of eye contact.

***

The pool of fresh water was nestled in between a wall of trees to the east and a dense, tall line of bushes. It couldn't have been more than twenty feet across but clear enough to see to the bottom. At first you were worried that it wasn't quite deep enough to be able to properly bathe oneself but Shouta seemed unconcerned as he started pulling off layers of clothes. You hadn't realized how many layers he worre until he was taking them off, he wore thick cotton tunic, a thick leather padded vest and under that a fraying undershirt. He'd originally appeared more stocky to you, especially next to Hizashi, but without the heavy leather vest he was much leaner than you thought. He wasn't quite as lithe as hizashi but what muscle he did have and toned and compact.

You were staring at him, not really registering that fact that you were currently watching someone get underess. He paused after he had shed his top layer and boots, and stared back at you. He didn't look particularly bashful nor as if he was suffering some great intrusion but instead, somewhat smug. It took you a few seconds of eye contact to realize what you were doing and a hot blush rose in your cheeks and ears and you looked away guiltily.

"Sorry!" you squeaked. "I- I uh- shit, sorry! You, just do your thing. I'm going to...go pick some plants."

"You already did that." He chuckled, that the bastard was laughing under his breath. You could hear it. "You don't need to bathe?"

"No." you tried to look anywhere but towards him as you heard the rustling of river stone under his feet and the sound of heavy leather trousers hitting the ground. You tried not to squeak at the image that barged so rudely across your mind. "I mean yes, but we can...take turns."

"You need to change those bandages and clean your burns." Shouta sighed. "You won't be able to do it on your own."

You blushed deeply and looked everywhere but at him. The sky, as it turns out, a lovely shade of blue.

"How about this," he started, as if he were proposing a simple solution to a situation where neither of you were naked nor stripping. "I get in, turn my back and you get in. Turn your back, I help you with the places you can't reach. I'll even close my eyes, on Hizashi's honor. Then you leave first and get dressed and I'll keep my back turned until you say otherwise."

"Hizashi's honor? What about your own?" you asked, fighting a grin.

"He's much more trustworthy." Shouta countered.

" Is your back turned now?" You asked, hugging yourself close even though you were fully clothed.

"I- n-no, you're still dressed." he sighed.

"Well," you huffed "go get in and stay facing away!"

"Of course, ma'am." Was he mocking you? He was mocking you. His mood had sweetened but at what cost? You groaned to yourself and listened for the subtle sounds of the water splashing around his legs and the sharp intake of breath at the cool water washed up against his bare skin. "I'm in."

"Right." you snuck a glance backwards at him, sure enough, he was waist deep in the water, bareback, covered in scars, facing you. You found yourself staring again as he dunked his head under water and wet his long waves. In the early morning sun you were able to see the shadows, the definition of the muscles cast across his back, and the dimples that sat towards the bottom of his spine. You would have blushed if he had wandered to your cottage for healing before all of this began, maybe even made him a meal and asked him to stay overnight for "observation" if he was courteous enough. This time, without turning to look at you, he cleared his throat loudly. You couldn't be sure that he wasn't just clearing his throat in an uncharacteristically loud manner or if he had somehow caught you staring.

The ferocity of the blush in your cheeks heightened. You had been so diligent to make sure he couldn't sneak a peek at your body and you were just as bad as you were acting like he was. You turned away again and took a deep breath before starting to unfasten your tunic from the front. It fell away onto the rounded stones beneath your feet and you felt the fresh air hit what parts of your skin hadn't been bandaged. You'd forgotten about the bandages. They were tied in the back and you're clumsy fingers couldn't quite feel their way around the knot enough to loosen them.

"Shit." you muttered to yourself, your fingers pulling at any side of the knotted fabric you could grasp. You were grumbling to yourself. "Oh come on."

"Something wrong?" Shouta called back to you over his shoulder.

"Hizashi is too good at tying knots is what's wrong!" you huffed. "I can't get the bandaged undone."

"You're still covered up, right?" Shouta asked.

"Um, yeah."

You heard the water around him swirling and splashing as he trudged back toward you through the water. You instinctively looked back and he stopped suddenly crouching so his bottom half was submerged in the water, his hands flying below his waist to assist in the guardian of his genitals. You let out another embarrassing squeak and turned away, at this point your whole body must have been pink with blush.

"What are you doing?" you yelped, dropping your face into your hands.

"I'm going to help with the bandages, stay- just look away." He huffed and stood, water pouring off of him.

It was quite the anticipatory period, waiting for him to rise from the water and rough his hands to graze your shoulder and they reached for your bandages. You tried to tense your body and avoid the shiver that ran through you with every brush and prod of his fingers. Not only was this an inappropriate situation to find yourself feeling this sort of attraction but he was a taken man! A man, who was with another man, and was very likely not even remotely likely to reciprocate your attraction. Oh, stop it you child. You scolded yourself.

After a few seconds of fumbling with the knots Shouta's wet hands freed you and he stepped back to let you unravel the bandages. You had assumed he'd stalked back into the water as per your agreement and were frightful surprised when you turned around to find him only partially submerged and staring at you. At meeting eyes with you he looked away abruptly, the somewhat serene look on his face was replaced by something akin to guilt and he dove under the water.

He sure was feeling dramatic today.

You waited, arms pulled close to your chest until he emerged from the water ten feet back and facing away from you. He didn't make a move to turn around or peak for the thirty or seconds that you watched him so you carefully slid down your trousers, and the small clothes underneath and scurried to the water's edge. He'd been acting like it was no big deal but you could feel how cold the water rarely was and you inched in. It felt good on you aching feet and even your strained shins but when it got to your thighs the raw flasking skin registered the coldness of the water as pain. You breathed through it until your body got used to the temperature inch by inch until you were waist deep and able to crouch down into the water to wash your torso.

The whole time Shouta remained strictly facing away from you running his finger through his knotted hair. You crouched down, the cool water washing over your skin, a mixture of therapeutic coolness and sharp pain hit you. You sucked in a sharp breath, which you guessed must have sounded worse than it was because Shouta glanced back at you with a worried look. He quickly righted himself, looking up at the sky uncomfortably.

"You okay?" He asked, swallowing hard.

"Mm hm." you hummed. You tried to prod at some of the dead sin on your back and hissed. You had been hoping to clean your skin and shed off the dried out layer. "Just... sensitive."

"Do- do you need my help, yet?' he asked, eyes still trained on the cloudless sky.

"Uh yeah." you bent your knees a bit, making sure the bottom half of your body was fully submerged and crossed your arms over your chest, keeping you back facing him.

"Okay." you heard him turning around and gliding towards you in a full swim. He even kept the sounds he made splashing around in the water to a minimum. His hands were gentle when they found your skin, cool water gently being cupped and poured over your shoulders and back. He spent a while rubbing soothing circles into your skin, gently loosening the flaking skin that wasn't going to heal back. Your skin felt sensitive and raw but it was also in a strange sense immensely soothing.

You closed your eyes and let the early morning sun warm your face. You were so focused on the chittering of birds in the trees and very welcomed warmth of the sun in contrast to the cool water, that you didn't notice when Shouta's hands snaked farther forward. It started at your hips, then up your side and down the tops of your arms. You only notice the moment his hands brushed the side of your chest, dangerously close to your breasts. That blush that you'd felt slowly fading away lit up again, and despite the water you suddenly felt warm.

"T-thank you, Shouta." You cleared your throat. "I think I can finish up."

"R-right." Shouta's hands hesitantly pulled away and you felt him hover for a moment, you were sure he was staring. You hadn't taken a moment until just now to wonder what you back really looked like, was it pink and raw, covered in white flaking skin or had it faded a little by now and started to return to a more normal skin tone. He glided away and you heard him resurface a few feet away.

"Eyes to the sky." He announced.

You dropped your arms and began to try and rub the dry skiing from your arms and chest, and break down the thick layer of grease in your hair. It felt wonderful to be cleaning yourself. You hadn't realized how horrendous being filthy had made you feel until you were clean once again. You had been sitting in your own filth for three days in a cage, and then stewing away in bandages and the same clothes for three more. You ran your fingers across your sensitive skin and although there was a bit of tenderness you decided that the bandages were no longer necessary. You headed back to shore, part of you wanting to get dressed and unexposed as soon as possible and the other half wanting to splash around in the water forever. There's something freeing about bathing, always has been. It was relaxing and soothing to not only your body but your mind.

But you thought of Shouta who must have been pruning away in the water and dragged yourself from the pool. You stumbled across one of the larger rocks that your clothes had been strewn across, your wet feet sliding easily down the rounded surfaces. You didn't quite lose your balance but you landed hard and uneven on your foot, a sharp, tering sort of pain running up your ankle and side of your shin. You pulled away from the rock to see a sharp corner from a recent break now painted in trace amounts of your blood.

You groaned loudly, not necessarily because of the pain but because of the frustration. Nothing, literally nothing, could be easy for you? Even getting dressed had to cause you injury.

"You okay?" Shouta was still in the middle of the pool, looking up at the sky.

"Y-yeah." You grumbled, shoving your newly scraped up leg into your trousers. You waited until you had your tunic over your shoulders and ready to lace up before calling out to Shouta and telling him that it was alright to get out of the water. He nearly leaped from the water, enthusiastically trudging towards the shoreline. He was on land and barbarically shaking himself dry like a dog in no time, his long wavy hair whipping to and fro. Freezing droplets splattered across your back and neck, seeping into your tunic and reminding you just how cold the water had been.

Within seconds of getting to shore, Shouta hopped around the river rock for a bit then came striding past you, trousers on but undone, boots on but untied, and the top half of his clothing in hand. You hurriedly pulled your tunic closed and tried lacing it up without revealing your bust. You couldn't help but let your eyes trail after him as he walked, his trousers were dangerously low, lower back dimples showing along with his very defined v-shaped musculature when he eventually turned around to face you.

"Let me see your leg." he jutted his chin towards your scrapped up shin.

"Shouta, it's just a scratch." you waved him off.

"Flesh eating disease." He stated, quoting you.

"I'll keep it clean." You grinned. "Unlike you, Mr. Uses- dirty-cloth-as-bandages."

"Come on, we have to be at the farm by nightfall." Shouta rolled his eyes, as he pulled his undershirt on over his head and shoved it into his pants. He started to disappear behind the line of bushes that separates the pool from the marshland that held your camp.

[blackenedwhite97]

Reader xEraserMic (BNHA)

Day 50 something of Quarantine has me feeling pretty okay, i’ve been struggling with my mental health lately and have started to pull myself out of it. So this took longer than expected.

Also i didn’t go back and edit this one a few times before posting so I apologize if the mistakes hinder the story.

This post includes: physical violence, mental health, cursing and a prominent polyamorous romantic relationship.

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Mental Health note: This piece touches on panic and anxiety born form trauma, while this piece is rather mild in it’s description of said mental health issues if you do not feel like you are in the place to deal with any content including these topics please skip right over this post!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s something about a packed train that has become comforting to Y/n. A packed train lined with the tired faces of commuters staring blankly at their phone screens meant that there must not have been anything big going on. Having the job of a hero meant that you also had the baggage, the hypervigilance, reluctance to relax at night, the nightmares. A stinky train car rocking bored passengers back and forth meant that nothing was happening. No one was panicking, there were no tears, or fire or violence. Just a normal commute on a normal Tuesday afternoon.

Since Hizashi and Shota had moved into the on-campus dorms to strengthen U.A. 's security you were effectively alone in the apartment throughout the week. Shota and Hizashi had been in the big city their whole lives, they were somewhat desensitized to the high villain activity here. You on the other hand, having only moved here a few years ago from a province that generally experienced a low crime rate, were having a hard time keeping up. It all felt never ending, nearly every hour at work brought a new villain report.

First it was the JSW attack, where Shota nearly died. You had night terrors about losing him for weeks after, Hizashi had to calm you in the night. Then the hero killer in Hosu City created the need for more heroes so your agency partnered up with one stationed over there. You had worked two weeks there and one back in Musutafu of and on until the killer was taken down. You had spent your nights in Hosu City looking over your shoulder and eyeing every shadow big enough to conceal a person and your days calling Hizashi or Shota between classes. After Stain the world had never been the same, there was more violence. More casual crime involved knives and guns and you’d hear his manifesto echoing through the dark streets.

It was the brief moments of the day, the crowded train, the line up at the food cart, the busy coffee shop, that gave you peace. There was nothing notable happening, yet things were still happening. There wasn’t the same kind of silence like there was at home, there wasn’t any loneliness. Everyone there was living their lives unaffected by the villains lurking the alleys. It was all very mundane, but it was what made being a hero worth it.

It started at the far end of the car once the train pulled away from the station, the shifting of bodies rippled through the passengers. A young woman shrieked, and the panic spread like wildfire. Phones were dropped, newspapers abandoned as everyone rose from their seats and crowded towards you. You instinctively began pulling people behind you, trying to maneuver your way through the crowd when a sharp metallic clang rang out, a cluster of sparks burst from the now scrapped metal ceiling.

The passengers swarmed with renewed fear and you felt yourself getting pushed backwards. You could just barely make out a ragged red scarf and mask of bandages through the crowd when your view was blocked by a tall man with broad shoulders. You recognized that combination anywhere and your gut twisted as you fell back into another passenger. Stain couldn’t have broken out, he couldn’t. There would have been an alert.

You fished in your pocket for your phone and looked at the screen, nothing from the police or the agency. You unlocked your phone, Hizashi and Shota holding twin cats smiling up at you. It was brief but you felt your chest warm and nerves settle for just a moment. You shook your head clear and dialed 119 , thrusting your phone out towards a lady who was currently clutching a bright yellow railing. She fumbled with your phone, her wide eyes swirling with confusion and fear.

“I dialed 119, tell them there is a villain on the train and what station we’re going to!” You instructed, taking off your coat and rolling your shoulders.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and focused. You jumped up and grabbed onto the railings attached to the ceiling and pulled yourself up until you could see above the crowd’s heads.  What looked like a young man, not having filled out with muscle yet was dressed up in a makeshift Stain costume. He was slighter than Stain and his hair which poked out of the top of the mask of bandages was dark blue and hung limp. He had one arm wrapped around a child that couldn’t be more than ten years old, the other brandishing three long claw-like blades that appeared to be growing from his knuckles. Less than a few feet away a young woman bearing striking resemblance to the young child was clutching a bloodied hand, tears streaming down her face.

The Stain copycat looked down the car, a sadistic Cheshire grin plastered across his face. He raised his blade wielding hand towards you, blood wicking off the blade.

“A hero!” He squeezed the struggling boy tighter against him. “Come and do your job!”

You scanned the car looking for a visible spot of floor to land that wasn’t directly in range of the villain. A brief gap in the crowd appears and you phased out of the world, erupting in a cloud of swirling purple smoke. In another puff of smoke, you appeared crouched in the ground where you’d managed find a gap in the passengers. You got to your feet quickly and began pulling passengers behind you as you marched towards the villain.

 When you breached the other side of the crowd you stopped and took in the situation again. The boy’s mother was closer than you had originally thought, this made things more difficult but not impossible. The boy was bleeding from a scratch across his cheek but given how fiercely he was struggling to get away there didn’t seem to be any fast-acting poisons or paralytics on the blade. That meant you could stand to take a few hits if need be. You need to separate him from the boy, once the boy is free he’ll run to his mom who’ll put distance between them both and the villain.

The crowd behind you was beginning to settle, with nowhere to go for the next few minutes they could do nothing but cling to each other and hope you kept them safe. That silent hope pushed up against your back, there was no turning back and there was no escape for you. That wall held you right there, in the line of fire so others didn’t have to be. And though you trembled, and fear was burning through your guts, you knew you couldn’t be anywhere but here.

I chose this. You reminded yourself just like you had to do every night you woke from the terror of your dreams.

You launched yourself forward in a puff of smoke, in another reappearing at chest height. With one arm you grabbed the bladed hand, missing his wrist and grabbing down on his fist and the root of the blades. With the other arm you shoved the villain back with a solid elbow to the sternum. You crashed into him, quickly pulling backwards to let the boy wiggle away from the two of you. You trailed him as he scrambled to his mom who scooped him up and fell back into the crowd.

You took your eyes off of your opponent for too long and a fist connected with your jaw. The world sparked white then black and you stumbled back into the bench. You steadied yourself and blinked your eyes clear. The villain shoved off the wall of the train and lunged towards you, you through yourself sideways and rolled. He collided with the window, the double-paned glass crackling under his weight.

You glanced at the passengers as they flinched away from the fight and that wall of hope hit you again. You couldn’t allow the fight to spill over onto them, this was between you and the copycat hero killer.

The man groaned and he pushed off the window, the whine of the broken glass giving you an idea. You jumped to your feet and in a puff of smoke were standing with you back to the window directly across from you opponent. He growled and his other hand began to ooze blood as three more metal claws sprouted from his knuckles. With both taloned hands shoved forwards, he launched himself forwards again, this time you jumped up grabbing onto the ceiling railing. You swung yourself forward over his head as he burst through the glass, an ice-cold wind ripping through the train car. You kicked off the ceiling swinging back into him. In one swift movement the two of you went through the window, one of his flailing arms catching your ribs as you both plummeted off the train bridge.

You kicked off of him and looked around panicked, the only surfaces you could see from here were the underside of the bridge and the riverbanks which were just out of phasing distance. The best you could do for yourself now was make the fall to the water shorter, so you looked down and focused on the top of the water. In a puff of smoke, you hit the water, the surface shattering against your body with a loud clap.

***

You winced as the nurse tied off another suture. It wasn’t that it hurt with the anesthetic salve, but more the uncomfortable feeling of the tugging needle. You had needed six stitches in your hand and twenty-four in your abdomen. The nurse gave you a final wipe down and wrapped your hand up with bandages. Just as she was cleaning up her station there was a soft knock at the door. You looked over your shoulder to find Shota, hair tied up in a bun, leaning on the door frame. He held two coffees, one in a paper cup with steam rising off the top and the other filled with ice and cream.

“Hey.” He greeted casually, stepping into the room.

Your heart fluttered at the sound of that soothing voice, so calm and warm. He handed you the iced coffee and pulled up the stool the nurse had been sitting in when she was stitching you up. You took the coffee with your good hand and placed it on the examiners bed and reached out towards him again. His hand instantly found yours again before he even settled into his seat.

“I was filled in a little bit by the police but what exactly happened?” He asked, using your hand as an anchor to pull himself closer on the rolling stool.

“Oh, you know.” You sighed. You hadn’t seen Shota in person in nearly two weeks and you didn’t want to spend what little amount of time you had with him talking about the bad things in the world. “Hero stuff.”

 “Hero stuff, huh?” Shota grinned and perked an eyebrow. He planted a kiss on the back of your hand and laughed into your clasped hands. “Well, I’m a hero and I’ve never thrown myself out of a moving train window.”

“And I’ve never raided a Yakuza den.” You smiled cheekily. “What interesting lives we both live.”

Shota was good at reading between the lines, he could tell you didn’t want to talk about what had happened. Since he stood to gain nothing from hearing about the attack at the immediate moment he let it go, instead he chuckled with you and rubbed circles in the back of your hand with his thumb. He only needed to make sure of one thing, everything else could wait. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll heal up fine.”

Shota’s eyes went from sleepy and calming to searching and intense. You looked away; you didn’t like what he was looking for. He put down his coffee and grabbed your chin, his hand still warm from holding the cup.  He turned you towards him and said nothing, his eyes boring into your own. Shota has always been the more intense one out of the three of you, always more pensive and serious. He was able to reach depths in you no one was able to, even Hizashi.

You couldn’t look away from him, that would be admitting something was wrong. But if you looked into his eyes any longer you knew you’d end up telling him eventually. He was a tricky bastard who knew exactly how to get  through your walls. Your eyes started to burn with tears, and you tried to blink them away but instead they began to fall.  Shota softened instantly, both hands cupping your face and pulling you into his chest.

“I missed you.” You whimpered into his chest. “The apartment is so empty, now.”

Shota clutched you closer to him, resting his chin on your head. You felt small against him, like a piece fitting into the rest of the puzzle. This felt right, felt safe. You had missed this. He held you for a while, the smell of coffee and laundry detergent wafting over you.

“Hizashi is at home, he’s been freaking out.” Shota whispered into your hair, eventually.

“It’s just a few stitches.” You mumbled, still holding onto his chest.

“Thirty is more than a few.” Shota chortled. “Someone posted a video online of you chucking yourself out a window and one of his students showed him before the hospital even called us.”

You pulled away and looked up at Shota. His eyes were sleepy and glossed over now, oozing with affection. His lazy smirk sent a shiver through you as you straightened yourself out. “You make it sound like I did it for fun! I can teleport, you know.”

Shota grinned and stood up kissing you on the forehead. “That’s why I stopped to get coffee on the way here, I know you’re too crazy to die.”

“Thanks, I feel sufficiently loved.”

***

 Hands were on you the moment you walked into the apartment. Hizashi nearly broke a few of your stitches from hugging you. He refused to let go to the point that Shota had to run to the kitchen to grab a pot that had begun to boil over. He peppered you with kisses, and in between each one he scolded you for launching yourself from a window.

According to Hizashi he’s nearly had a heart attack, an aneurysm and a stroke all thanks to you. He was the worrier out of the two boys, always finding it hard to rationalize his way out of fear. He knew, like Shota, that you were a pro hero and that you could teleport and that you could handle yourself. Where the rationale stopped was when you flew out of a window and he had to imagine what happened next. After the attack at the JSW Hizashi had become a little less carefree when it came to you and Shota. Shota was the one who never got hurt, who could take on anything and make it out. After nearly losing him, you hadn’t been the only one having trouble sleeping.

After an ample amount of fussing you found yourself sandwiched between Shota and Hizashi, a warm meal in your belly and the TV quietly playing some reruns of a show you and Hizashi had watched while it was still running. Shota was snoring something fierce, his head drooped back over the back of the couch. One of his arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders and you curled up into his side. Hizashi was hugging your legs that draped across his lap and leaning his head on Shota’s hand that draped over your shoulder.

This is how it was meant to be. This apartment was meant to be filled with snores and bad television, with burning pots of food and the three of you curled up into each other. What had happened today, and the fear you felt had already melted away. As you drifted to sleep, Shota’s steady heartbeat lulled you to unconsciousness, and nothing but sleep came to you. For the first time in two weeks there were no echoes of screaming civilians or crying victims. You saw no whispers of fire and blood in the shadowy corners of the apartment. For the first time in two weeks you had a dreamless sleep.

***

You woke to bright streams of light shining across your face and a warm purring cat at sharing your pillow. You had been moved to your bed at some point during the night and stripped of your pants a sweater. Sushi swatted at your stray hairs, catching your head a few times before you lifted him off the pillow. You squished him against your chest, which he accepted for a grand total of thirty seconds before mewing in melodramatic agony. You kissed him on the nose and let him go, watching him dart off the mattress and out the room like it was a prison break.

“You’re awake!” Hizashi sang from the living room. He hopped through the doorway and strode towards the bed, leaning down to give you a chaste good morning kiss.

“You’re here?” You asked.  If the sun had made it high enough to shine through the window and hit you then he and Shota should have definitely been gone for work by now.

“Yeah?” Hizashi cocked his head to the side. “Should I not be?”

“Why aren’t you at work?”

He smiled at you; it was a weird smile. It was sweet and made you feel warm, but it was also a little melancholy like a secret apology tugged at his heart. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through your hair. Hizashi, though loud and hyperactive most of the time, could also be so gentle and sweet.

 “You can’t lift your arms above your head without tearing out your stitches, love. One of us is going to stay here with you until you can get them taken out.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Really?” You couldn’t help the excitement that leaked through to the surface. “You guys are staying here?”

“Don’t get too excited, we’ll annoy the shit out of you soon enough.” He grinned and stood up. “Now I need your advice.”

“On what?” you asked as he took his phone out and began typing furiously. He looked at you, with the utmost seriousness and sprung backwards over your legs onto the mattress.

“A song.”

“A song?”

“Yes, a student showed it to me. She says it’s a bop,I need your opinion as to if I should play it on my radio show next week.”

[blackenedwhite97]

Present Mic x Reader x Aizawa How You Got Together Part: 3

This post includes: drinking, mild sexual content, cursing and a prominent polyamorous romantic relationship.

   Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- You’d show up to the bar Yamada texted you the address to, it was a smaller underground bar with a dance floor and a distinct blue hue. You had dressed for New Years, which in simple is so as to not leave much to imagination. Yamada’s eyes nearly fell out of him head when he spotted you from down the street and he had to hide his face in Aizawa’s jacket to calm himself. “Jesus fuck.” he cursed. Aizawa’s eye lit up and he smirked, he couldn’t help but enjoy what you did to Yamada.

- “You look good.” Aizawa would mumble to you.

“You didn’t tell me I looked good!” grumbles Yamada who was wearing a blazer with no shirt underneath.

“you always look good.” Aizawa says pacifying him with a sweet kiss.

“Oh so y/n doesn’t always look good?” Yamada would ask, melodramatic shock across his face.

“Your words, not mine.” Aizawa would shrug and walk into the bar.

- The night started off like any New Year’s does, food, drinking, talking and chaos. Everything went smoothly, until you hit the dance floor. It was Aizawa who proved to be the most forward that evening. His hands ghosting your hips and behind, his chest pressed against your back, and Yamada who was dancing in front of you herding you backwards into him.

- Eventually after enough drinks and sweaty gyration you found yourself tangled up with the pair in a love hotel two blocks away.

- You were the first to wake up the next day, a pit in your stomach, unsure of how to feel. You felt good because you just banged two absolute studs but bad because everyone was drunk when it happened. Yamada was the next to get up as you were pulling on your pants, he’d moan a “G’morning” to you, and realizing you still didn’t have a shirt on you’d grab it off the floor and dart int the bathroom.

- He’d knock on the door gingerly. “Hey, y/n? Are you okay?”

- “Y-yeah. Are you…okay?” Stupid. You scolded yourself.

- “I-I mean, yeah. If you are.” He said quietly through the door.

- “Is Shota going to be okay?” you asked, you knew that he knew what you were freaking out about.

- “Oh, yeah! We, uh, we kinda talked about it before we… like only if you wanted to… oh God! Did you not want to?! Were we too-” Yamada began to ramble.

- You opened the door. “No, I wanted to!”

- “Good.” A dopey smile spread across his face. “Good!”

- You don’t really know when the official relationship started, it was sometime between then and when they got you a kitten for your birthday amongst other things.

PART 1 is about how you all met.

PART 2 is about how you became friends with the pair.

[blackenedwhite97]

Present Mic x Reader x Aizawa How We Became Friends Part:2

This post includes: drinking, mild sexual content, cursing and a prominent polyamorous romantic relationship.

    Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- A few months into living in Musutafu City you’d end up going to a Christmas Party hosted by Mt. Lady, who did love her parties.

- You’d see Yamada across the room and beside him was the Aizawa who had his hand on Yamada’s thigh. Yamada in turn had his arm draped over the back of Aizawa chair.

- Well fuck, that’s the definition of opposites attract.

- He’d spot you and wave you over shouting over the crowd a little to loud. Aizawa wouldn’t even react, he must have been used to the shouting by now. Yamada, realizing the chandelier shook with his voice, would erupt into a scarlet blush and apologize just a loudly.

- You’d make you way over to him and he’d introduce you to Aizawa. Aizawa would eye you, a spark of something not entirely innocent in his eyes.

- Yamada would get toasted that night, dragging you down that hole with him. Aizawa would spend the first half of the night in pleasant yet generally boring conversation as was expected at a party and the second half erasing Yamada’s quirk when he’d lose control of his volume.

- Eventually he’d decided that he’d made enough of an effort at being social for the night and ask you to help wrangle Yamada. When you, also drunk but more functional, finally got his outside to the car he’d spin around before getting into the driver seat and grab your face. He’d slur something about you being beautiful and nice and plant one on you.

- You’d pull away, you stomach twisting up in horror. The first place you’d look was at Aizawa, ready to blurt out an apology. He looked tired but all together unbothered. He’d sigh and be the one to apologize on behalf of Yamada.

- Your stomach was still upset. Oh no, it was downright furious. You’d clutch your stomach, slap a hand over your mouth and run towards an alley between houses. The snow was up to your ankles and you slipped to your knees before letting loose. Halfway through a warm hand found your back and bunched your hair up behind your head, you tried apologizing to whoever it was but couldn’t get a word out.

- When you were empty and just dry heaving Aizawa would wrap his arms around you and walk you back to the car. He’d slide you into the back seat and you passed out at some point during the car ride.

- The next morning was pure humiliation when you woke up on the pairs couch with a cat snuggled into you. The only thing that made it better was that Yamada was even more of a mess than you were. He, as Aizawa informed you with a devilish grin, was a light weight. You’d try to get out of there as soon as possible but Aizawa would insist on borrowing some of Yamada’s cloths so you could wash your dress from last night and get some breakfast in you.

- It would take a few days for Yamada to text you after that, he’s felt terrible after Aizawa told him that he’d kissed you.

- When you did get a text, it’d be something like “hey y/n! If you’d like to kill me after what happened I totally get it! Should we set up appointment, I can bring coffee and other peace offerings?”

- You’d plan to meet up for coffee with the two of them at a local café where the owner had a pair of cats who enjoyed socializing with the guests. You would show up first and the cats would flock to you, one on your lap while the other sat on the table pawing at your keys. When Aizawa and Yamada walked in Aizawa gladly took the spot next to you so he could pet the cats, the one on the table election to play with his long hair from his lap.

- Yamada would begrudgingly take the seat across the table and order two coffees. He’d start trying to apologize, his ears turning red. The heat of embarrassment flushed through you and soon enough the two of you were both apologizing and ensuring each other everything was alright. Aizawa would cut everything short by laughing at the two of you. “Oh my God, there’s two of you!”

- The three of you would be there for hours, eventually figuring out when you all went to school, where you had moved to, what Aizawa did for a living and the pair had somehow convinced you that you needed a kitten ASAP. It was a long and sweet afternoon and when you eventually parted ways you felt a fuzzy warmth in your chest and you smiled the whole way home.

- The next time you ran into Aizawa on night patrol he’d ask if you wanted to patrol together, he’d say something about villain activity being up as patrolling in pairs only being logical. When the sun began to rise and you were about to head home he’d scratch his head and awkwardly ask you to hang out with him and Yamada on New Year’s. You say yes, your heart doing happy cartwheels. You’d say good-bye and turn around to hide the blooming blush across your cheeks.

-What the fuck, why do I feel like a grand schooler who just got asked by her crush to sit with him at lunch?

PART 1 is about how you met the pair

PART 3 is about you got together.