Aizawa Oneshots and More

Nightmares

HI GUYS!!! I'm bringing you a bit of a shorter chapter here (mainly because right now AS I TYPE THIS, it is about to be 8AM and I have NOT slept)

This is a request given by AppleJuice7877!

Male! Reader x Aizawa

Enjoy and don't forget to check out my other works if you like Gojo or Levi :3 OH and check out my Janitor AI page! I'm back to posting bots too teehee :D

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You're back there.

The walls are too close again, cracked and yellowed from years of smoke. The floor creaks under every step, the air stale with something that has soaked into the wallpaper. Anger. Loneliness. Control. You know this place, and yet... your body doesn't move right in it. You're small again. Powerless. Still his.

A distant door slams.

Your chest seizes up.

You try to run - try to find the exit, to remind yourself this isn't real - but it's like your limbs have turned to noodles. You can't breathe properly. The oxygen just wouldn't reach.

The lights flicker. A shadow passes in front of the hallway – familiar footsteps, heavy boots, the smell of cologne so sharp it burns your nose.

"Boy."

That voice. Rough, impatient, venom curling around your name.

"Still sulking, huh?"

You back up instinctively, palms hitting the wall behind you.

The room shifts – no longer the hallway. Now it's the living room. No, wait... the kitchen. No, the basement. All of it. Flashes of colliding places stitched together by memory and fear. Places you've bled in. Places you begged in.

He steps out of the shadows, face obscured in that dreamlike way, fuzzy, never fully formed, but you know it's him. You could feel it in your bones, in your gut, in the way your knees go weak.

Your old self. The boy you used to be? Screams silently inside your skin.

"Did I say you could look at me?" he growls, stepping closer. His voice echoes too much, as if it's inside your very skull. "You think a little time away makes you better than me?"

You open your mouth to speak, to fight back, but nothing comes out. Not a single, damned word.

Your throat clenches as his shadow falls over you.

You flinch, curling in on yourself.

And then—

CRACK!

The sound of a belt strikes the wall beside your head.

You can't scream. You can't move.

You can't—

Please—

"Maybe I need to remind you who you belong to—"

–

You shoot upright in bed with a ragged gasp, heart hammering like a war drum in your ribcage.

Your shirt is soaked with sweat. Your fingers curl tightly in the sheets like you're still trying to defend yourself. You look around wildly, eyes catching on the shadows in the corner of the room, your breathing stuttering.

It wasn't real.

It wasn't real.

It wasn't real.

But your body doesn't believe it.