|| Oneshots ||

|| Drunken Surprises ||
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  Dating any Pro Hero is hard.

  Their schedule is always full, and you're always watching the news in case something happens to them.

  So when you started dating the Pro Hero Erasure Head, you felt like vomiting every time he left the house, even if all he was doing was leaving to teach a classroom of brats.

  You knew that dating him would be hard, seeing him appear on the news, blooded, or worse, it made things hard.

  But you stuck it out, because even though you worry every time he leaves the house, you know that he'll live, and you'll see at the end of the day, whether he comes through the door after patrol, or if you're walking into his hospital room after your shift.

  Although lately, you've been noticing something off about Shota, his attitude different, and even Hizashi seemed... weird. Weirder than normal, anyway.

  It was almost like they were little kids, trying to keep a secret, but doing very poorly about it.

  You were folding laundry when your phone buzzes, it was later than usual, and seeing Mic's contact flash across your screen, made you a little anxious.

  "Hello? Yamada? What's wrong? Is Shota okay?" You ask, holding your phone to your ear, and you can hear loud laughter, along with a lot of background noise—music, shouting, even the sound of loud banging.

  "He's fi— fine, Mrs. Aizawa. We went out fo— for drinks, after patrollllllers, y'know," Mic's slurred, intoxicated voice comes through the line, and you sink down onto the edge of your bed, feeling relieved—brushing off his little nickname he gave you when you got serious with Aizawa.

  "Jesus, Yamada, you scared me. Do you know where you are? Are you with Shota still? Can I speak with him, please?"

  There's hiccups, then the sound of either Mic falling, or his chair falling, before the slurs of Hizashi and Shota catches through the line, before finally the deep rumble of Shota comes through instead, and you shake your head at the sound of him.

  Aizawa always been one for going all in, or not at all, and that included drinking. Every time he goes out, he either gets blackout drunk, or doesn't drink at all.

  "Shota, it's me. Do you know where you are?" You ask through the line, and hear his grumbles again.

  "Okay, no words. Shota, shout 'shots' really loudly if you want me to come get you." You try a different route, and within seconds, all you can hear is Shota shouting, to be joined seconds later by Mic, and about the entirety of the bar—everyone shouting 'shots'.

  You nod, getting up and reaching for your bag and keys. "I'll be there soon, try and turn your location on for me."

  After a calm drive through the city, and the struggle of getting the two drunkest men alive into your car, you make it back to Aizawa's house, helping Mic into the spare bed, setting water and pain killers on the table beside him.

  "Thank you, Mrs. Aizawa." He mumbles, a cheeky side grin on his face, and you roll your eyes at him, setting his glasses aside and flicking the light off.

  Shota was face first in his bed, hair a mess, clothes dirty, and you sigh, wishing you had the strength to at least take his dirty patrol clothes off so he doesn't stain the clean sheets.

  "Shota, you're on my side." You mumble, grabbing a hair tie and pulling his hair out of his face as he grumbles, a hand reaching out and grabbing your knee.

  "Marry me..." He mumbles, the words barely distinguishable, but you hear him, and it makes you freeze, heart racing.

  He's drunk, he didn't mean it.

  "Shota, c'mon, roll over." You try to roll him over to his side, where you've placed his water and pain pills, but all you get is his mumbles, his black, bloodshot eyes staring up at you.

  "Marry me." He mumbles again, pulling you closer to him by your knees, practically hugging your legs, and you chuckle.

  You learned he was a clingy drunk early into your relationship. But he's never asked you this before, he's never even mentioned anything about marriage, or weddings, even when sober.

  "Stop being silly, just roll over and you can sleep all of the alcohol off— I'll even call Nezu in the morning." You pat his head, trying to ignore how his words are making you feel.

  Without a word, Aizawa rolls over, letting your legs go, almost like he'd thrown himself onto the other side of the bed.

  You frown, did you offend him? Upset him? Was he about to throw up?

  Brushing off the sheets, you sit down on the bed, glancing at him as he pulls open the drawer beside him, and before you know it, he rolls back over to you, a small box rolling out of his flimsy fingers.

  "Shota—" you cut yourself off, reaching for the box, glancing at his slitted eyes, before opening the box.

  A ring, silver, with a chunk of diamond— this would have cost a fortune, not that money is a problem for him, he works two of the best paying jobs in Japan.

  "Oh, my god—" you stare, wide eyed at the ring, and he reaches over, grasping your hands in one of his, nearly knocking the ring.

  "Marry me." He murmurs, and even though he was just about asleep, you can't help but feel... ecstatic, he wants to marry you. Little, simple, you.

  Leaning in, you kiss his forehead, setting the open ring box on his bedside table, sliding down to lay beside him.

  "Ask me tomorrow, when you're sober, and we'll see."

——
959 words
(A/n I know for fact that Aizawa can get blackout drunk, and feel nothing the next day)