Aizawa Oneshots and More

Sickly Sweet (NSFW)

HI :3 Request by ChaoticEgg5! A scenario where you're sick and stubbornly refuse help from your boyfriend, Aizawa. 

Happy reading!

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You shuffle through the papers scattered across the table, your head pounding with every movement. The sun peeks through the blinds, casting harsh lines of light that feel more like daggers than warmth. You mutter to yourself, pushing through the fatigue that clings to your bones.

"Aizawa, I've got this," you insist, waving off the looming figure at the doorway. He stands there with an eyebrow raised, arms crossed over his chest, an expression of concern painted on his face.

"Really? Because it looks like you could use a break," he counters, his voice steady but edged with worry. "Let me help with the paperwork."

"No," you reply firmly, not bothering to look up from the stack of papers. "I can handle it myself. I just need to finish this."

Aizawa sighs, stepping further into the apartment. "You've been at this for hours. You need to rest. And you're looking a bit pale."

"I said I'm fine," you snap, feeling the head rise in your cheeks, though it has little to do with anger and everything to do with the fever simmering beneath the surface. "It's just a little flu. I can push through it."

His expression darkens slightly. "Ignoring your health won't make the flu go away any faster. Let me clean the dishes while you take a break."

"No! I'll handle it," you insist again, irritation lacing your tone. You shove a few papers aside, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Aizawa watches you for a moment, his gaze intense. "You're going to run yourself into the ground if you keep this up. You should be taking care of yourself."

You grit your teeth. "I've dealt with worse. I can manage!"

"Managing isn't the same as taking care of yourself," he replies, his voice lower but no less insistent. "You're going to make yourself worse if you don't rest."

"Can you just—" you start but are cut off by a fit of coughs that leaves you breathless. You quickly turn away, embarrassed, and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Aizawa's expression softens, though frustration lingers in his eyes. "See? This is what I'm talking about. You need help."

You shake your head defiantly, refusing to acknowledge the truth of his words. "I don't need help. I just need to get this done."

He steps closer, frustration bleeding into concern. "You're being stubborn. This isn't just about you; you know I worry about you."

The air between you thickens, your stubbornness warring with the undeniable affection in his tone. You look down, unwilling to let him see the cracks in your resolve. "I'll be fine," you repeat, your voice a little weaker this time.

"Then let me help, even if it's just a little," he urges, his patience wearing thin.

Aizawa's shoulders sag as he exhales deeply, frustration mingling with resignation. "Fine. I'll be back," he says, turning on his heel to leave.

"Where are you going?" you ask, your curiosity piqued despite the haze of stubbornness clouding your mind.

"Just to the store," he replies, glancing back at you. "I'm getting medicine. You need it."

You open your mouth to protest, but the sight of his determined expression silences you. There's no arguing with Aizawa when he's in this mood. "I don't need medicine," you say weakly, though the tremor in your voice betrays your resolve.