Shadows between the lines (Aizawa X student reader

8.The bathroom

You were ordered back to campus for medical treatment and debrief. You didn't need overnight hospitalization, but the gash along your ribs had you wrapped in gauze and painkillers. The nurse said "minimal mobility for 48 hours."

You ignored that.

Because after what happened, after the kiss, you couldn't stand not knowing where you stood.

You found Aizawa late that night—alone in the staff wing's locker room, standing in the steam of the private faculty showers, still in uniform. His scarf hung loose around his neck. Blood stained his gloves.

He looked like hell.

You didn't knock.

You locked the door behind you.

⸻

He didn't say a word as you walked toward him. His eyes were heavy, shadows dark beneath them. He looked at you like you were the last thing holding him together.

"I thought I lost you," he said.

"You didn't."

"You almost bled out."

"But I didn't."

You reached for his scarf, tugging it off slowly.

"Why do you keep fighting this?"

He grabbed your wrist before you could answer. Not rough. Just firm.

"Because if I give in again, I won't stop."

Your gaze darkened. "Then don't."

The silence between you broke like a wave.

And then you were kissing.

⸻

He shoved you against the tile wall, mouth bruising against yours, hands yanking at your shirt, fingers skimming the bandages around your waist.

"You should be in bed," he growled.

"I'll be there soon," you gasped, rocking your hips into him.

He cursed under his breath, kissed down your neck, then sank to his knees.

You stared down at him, shocked.

He looked up at you, hair clinging to his cheeks from the steam, eyes dark and wild.

"I need to taste you."

He lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pressed his mouth to your inner thigh.

You moaned. Loudly.

"You're insane."

"You started this," he said, voice rough. "Now let me ruin you."

⸻

He did.

With his mouth. His fingers. His voice in your ear.

You came hard against the wall, fingers tangled in his hair, biting your lip to keep from screaming.

And when he stood, he kissed you like you were his oxygen.

Then he fucked you—rough, fast, desperate. Your back hit the tile. His hands slammed into the wall beside your head. Every thrust was a confession he wouldn't say out loud.

You saw it in his eyes.

And when you came again, he kissed you through it, biting your bottom lip as he followed you over the edge.

⸻

Afterward, you stood under the spray, bodies tangled.

He rested his forehead against yours.

"I want to keep you."

You swallowed.

"Then fight for me.