Hiro x Reader One Shots

Fangirl

            That is, until you heard a scream. "LOOK OUT!" The shrill voice must've been talking to you; no one else was on the street. Snapping your head instinctively, you were nailed square in the face by something hard. You toppled over from the sheer force, landing on your back with an insane pain radiating from the center of your face. This is it. This is how I die. You cynically thought to yourself, unable to even force your eyelids to open. "Holy shi-" A voice breathed over you, before speaking up. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you!" Some girl's voice; you recognized it as the one that had heeded you the sharp warning.

            "Gogo! Move!" Another voice nearby barked, before footsteps thundered over. Your mind was cloudy, not even recognizing the name of one of your idols. "I told you not to throw a disc down the street!" The deeper voice hissed, but not at you. Something touched your nose- or at least what you assumed was your nose, making you wince and seethe sharply. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly seemed to snap you out of it, allowing you to blink them open to gain some sense again. "Get Baymax." The voice spoke, echoing in your head. Pain proved stronger than your wish to scream. The owner of the guy calling all the shots- a thin guy in sleek purple and red hovering over you- looked down and found you staring. "Good. You're conscious. My name is Hiro Hamada, I have this robot that knows a lot about healthcare. You're gonna be fine." He started reciting what to tell a victim before administering care, something he'd learned from his first aid class in high school. "What's your name?"

            "H-H... H... Hiro Hama-" You lost consciousness, practically in this teenager's arms, but it definitely had nothing to do with your recent head injury.

~ ~ ~

            When you woke, it was with a start. "Holy crap!" You whisper-shouted, before recoiling in pain and gripping your forehead. You'd sat up quickly, which was not a good idea at all. Confusion painted your face as you stared at the ceiling- a gray ceiling. Your friend's house had all ivory ceilings. Figuring it was just a trick of light, you glanced to your right, finding an elegant dresser and fancy wallpaper lining the room, which seemed on the larger side. Right theme, you thought to yourself, leaning back against the wooden headboard, which was cool to the touch. You wiped your nose, only to yield a somewhat crusty red substance on your hand.   Shrieking, you tried to shake it off, thrashing about in the bedding. This wasn't a room of your friend's house, or at least, one you've never been in before. It looked just like a pricey hotel room.

             The door flung open, causing you to snap your head towards it. All the movement was just too much. You were breathing laboriously and your head throbbed with no mercy. It was like a nightmare, and you'd just woken up from the best dream, one where Hiro Hamada swooped in after your injury before everything went black. Seconds later, you woke up here, and were now staring at a tall man you didn't recognize in the doorway.

            The man was dressed eloquently: perhaps a servant of some kind. But you didn't recognize him as one of your friend's butlers. The more you saw, the less familiar the place around you became. He tapped his ear, speaking quietly. "Sir, she's awake. Please come down ASAP." The well-dressed man offered a fleeting smile at you, one that disappeared almost before you even saw it. He quickly shut the door again, looking as if he were hurrying down the hall.

            His footsteps quickly faded, and were soon replaced by something slow and monstrous. Its thumping against the floor caused a wave of pain to wash through your mind, and they only became louder. Suddenly the loud, impending noise stopped, replaced with a quiet squeaking when you swallowed. Your ears had just been amplifying the sound the whole time.