Aizawa Oneshots and More

A Love Unraveled

Hi guys >:3 I hope you enjoy this one! I sure as hell did hehe

Happy reading!

Aizawa x F! Reader

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The soft morning light seeps through the kitchen window, illuminating the half-finished breakfast on the table. You stand at the sink, the water warm against your hands as you absentmindedly wash the dishes. The familiar sounds of the house – distant traffic, birds chirping outside – feels almost comforting, yet something about the morning seems off.

Aizawa had come home late last night, just as he had for the past few nights, but you have chosen not to mention it. Instead, you've made a point to keep things light, sharing stories about your day, but the responses have been brief. His eyes often drift away, lost in thoughts you couldn't quite reach.

"Are you okay?" you had asked, watching him sink into his thoughts over his cup of tea.

"Just tired," he replies, rubbing his eyes, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

Now, as you turn to the living room, you notice the couch, once a favourite spot for him to unwind, lay empty. A quiet ache settles in your chest, but you brush it aside, focusing instead on the routine of washing dishes.

"Shota?" you call out, your voice carrying softly through the stillness.

"Yeah?" he answers from down the hall, his tone distant, almost clipped.

"Do you want some tea?" you hope to draw him back into the moment, into the space you once filled with laughter and easy conversation.

"No thanks, I need to head out soon," he says, reappearing with his bag slung over his shoulder, the tension in his jaw more pronounced than you remember.

You hesitate for a moment, the question hovering on the tip of your tongue. Instead, you offer a small smile, hoping to mask the concern gnawing at you. "Alright, I'll see you later then."

He nods, a quick movement before he turns away, heading out the door. You stand in the kitchen, the silence swallowing you whole. As the door clicks shut, you take a deep breath, turning back to the sink, the routine comforting yet bittersweet.

You're lost in thought, absently scrubbing a plate when a soft, small voice calls from upstairs. "Mom?"

The voice tugs at your heart, and you pause, turning towards the staircase. "What's wrong? Why aren't you asleep?" you call back, moving towards the stairs.

Your son peeks out from the doorway of your shared bedroom, his wide eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and concern. He shuffles forward, his small hands fidgeting with the hem of his pajama shirt.

"I couldn't sleep," he admits, glancing down the hallway as if ensuring Aizawa wouldn't suddenly appear. "Daddy doesn't seem like himself. He didn't even tuck me in last night."

Your chest tightens at his words, the worry evident in his innocent tone. "Oh, honey," you kneel down to his level, brushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "What do you mean?"

"He was all quiet and stuff. He didn't tell me a story like he usually does," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "He just... left."

A wave of guilt washes over you. Aizawa has always been devoted to your son, and the thought of him feeling neglected makes your heart ache. You wrap your arms around your child, holding him close. "I'm sure he's just busy, sweetheart. You know how he gets sometimes, right? He works a lot."

"But I miss him," your son mumbles, burrowing into your embrace.

You sigh softly, feeling the weight of both your son's disappointment and Aizawa's distance. "I miss him too," you admit, trying to find the right words. "But we can talk to him when he comes home. Maybe we can do something fun together as a family."