MHA: Polyamorous X Reader relationship oneshots

Hospitalised - BakuTodo

[ 2111 words ]

The steady beeping sound of the whirring machine next to you was the catalyst for your sudden awakening. Laying down on a rigid, lumpy bed, you faced a window, vision hazy, the gleaming stars you could see out of the pale frame distorted with sleep and fuzziness. It was somewhat calming, counting each and every fuzzy dot littering the dark blanket of sky, but it didn't take long until the sick feeling of concern and confusion began to blossom at the back of your mind.

Where were you? Your voice echoed in the void of your mind.

Your head felt as heavy as stone as you tried to lift it, an itching surge of curiosity spreading through you like wildfire, not to mention fear. You may not be able to move your head with ease, but your hazy eyes had adjusted to the dark, sombreness of the room. On your wrist were many, white, veiny devices, snaking around your pulse in coils. It fed into a large, boxy contraption right by your bedside, which you could see minimally out of the corner of your peripheral vision. From it, the steady beeping sound that woke you up was emitted, making your stomach whirl with nausea. This had to be bad; you were in a hospital. Of course, it was all coming back to you now, your brain must be recovering from its initial foggy state.

You'd been fighting a villain, naturally, one you would've usually beat with ease any other day. That was, until, they'd signalled for back-up discreetly, and someone with a tape quirk caught you by surprise from behind. You'd struggled bitterly against the strong red tape that fixated around your neck, but the material was inhumanly strong, and you'd relented to plan B instinctively — pretending to be unconscious. After struggling for about 15 seconds, your oxygen supply cut-off completely, you pretended to lay limp in hopes of them thinking they'd killed you, and really, through some miracle, it worked. As you felt your vision slip away, the red tape had loosened, and you sagged to the cold floor, still in a pretence death. You recalled them whispering in serious tones, revelling in what they'd just done. It was when the first villain lent down to inspect you that you sprang into action, jabbing your finger directly in his eye before swiftly getting up and kneeing him in the balls. You were pretty happy with yourself for getting out of the situation, the villain writhing on the floor, groaning. But the sudden movement after the oxygen deprivation made you momentarily dazed, unfortunately allowing the tape villain to grab you by the legs, swing you around and rocket you into the air with inhumane speed and strength, where you crashed heavily against a building in the city centre, head ricocheting into the glass panes and causing it to smash everywhere.

And from there on out, your memory blanked.

The annoying beep of the machine begins to beep faster as your mind whirls. When you thought of the traumatic events, it was as clear as day, as if it was actually happening again as a mini movie in your head. That meant, you thought drearily, that the machine must have something to do with your heart rate, because it was sure as hell beating hard as soon as you recalled the attack. The choking incident had been particularly scary, making you shudder and shiver under the off-white sheets of the hospital bed. Furthermore, you felt a little... embarrassed. They didn't seem like overly experienced villains — it was evident you should be more capable than them both combined with your current rankings in the chart. And yet, you'd gotten outsmarted... by a couple of lowlifes. Bakugo was never going to let you live this down, in fact, you're adamant that when he hears the news and comes to visit, he'll walk in laughing his head off, familiar smirk engulfing his face.

Waking up in the night was a little bit of an issue, as no one was there to welcome you back or tell you what had happened, but you were somewhat grateful you weren't tossed into the deep end with nurses swarming everywhere, clipboards in hand and carrying nervous expressions. So when the window begins to grow lighter and the shining stars fade away, you're not surprised to be met with a nurse who has a slightly shocked look plastered on her face. She must be on early morning shift, and wasn't expecting her day to start like this.
She checks her clipboard, and then looks to you again.
"Y/H/N??" She murmurs under her breath in surprise. Well. She must be a fan. Registering your amused face, she shakes her head, snapping back to reality to meet her requirements as a nurse.
"Hello? This is Shelley, room 209, the patients woken up." She speaks into a crackling Walkie-Talkie, some radio nonsense being emitted in response.
"How long have I been out?" You ask her as she nears you, gently pulling on some gloves.
She has beautiful, slender hands, you note. She should be a hand commercial person.
Her face wrinkles in thought, finger reaching out to look for the answer printed on the clipboard.
"About 12 hours? You were knocked out for a while." She informs you, blonde hair bouncing slightly as she shakes her head in pity.
"12 hours... What's all this stuff for? What... actually happened to me?" You ask quickly. The questions had been burning on your tongue for ages now.
"Ah, well... You have a suspected minor head injury that needs to be investigated further now that you're awake, a few broken fingers and... a broken leg." She sighs. Dammit. You knew something was wrong with your leg — it was all stiff and unmovable under the sheets, presumably from a cast.
"Oh." You reply anxiously, just before a hoard of doctors come rampaging in.