BNHA One-Shots and Short Stories (x Reader)

My Hero : Eijirou Kirishima

Author's Note:

So it was requested by my friend that I do some anxiety comfort with Kirishima! I had fun with this one, even though some parts of it were a little hard for me to write. It feels like it's been too long since I've done some good old Kirishima fluff, so here we go!

Enjoy!

-Sugar

Warnings: Detailed anxiety/panic attack (there's comfort, ofc), little bit of mutism

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Even in hallways as big as the ones of UA, it was easy to feel cramped.

The fluorescent lights seemed to burn painfully bright above your head, and the din of students in the hall unpleasantly flooded your ears. You were currently walking beside your boyfriend, Kirishima, who was in a different class than you. He was chattering about . . . something. Honestly, you weren't sure anymore, what with everything going on around you and inside your head. It wasn't as though you didn't want to listen to what he had to say—you loved hearing him talk—but there was something else bothering you.

In a few minutes, you were going to have to give a presentation in front of your whole class. You figured you were prepared well enough, but you knew you'd lock up anyway. What with how everyone would be staring at you, the pressure would be too intense. After years of trying to speak in front of people, you knew most of your practice would go to waste. No matter how long you'd stand in front of the mirror and go over your cards, no matter how well you knew your topic, you'd forget everything as soon as you stood at the front of the room.

Such is your life.

Your stomach was already turning at the thought of what you were going to be forced to do in a few minutes. Nervously, you clutched your textbooks tighter into your chest, the hard covers digging into your skin. Maybe it would be helpful if you tried to calm yourself down a bit. You lidded your eyes just enough to still be able to see where you were going, and tried to take a few deep breaths.

Everything would turn out alright, you tried to tell yourself. Only fifteen minutes out of my life. And then I'll move on. I'm not going to die. Maybe I'll feel like it, but it won't actually happen—

"Hey, (Y/N), are you doing okay?"

A hand rested on your shoulder, effectively jarring you out of your thoughts. Except, maybe it jarred you a little too much.

You startled, losing your grip on the books you carried in your arms. They fell to the floor with a loud thud, making a few other students in the hallway look towards you. Your feet stilled in place as you froze, trembling under the pitying gaze of passerby. You'd already felt so sick, nausea roiling deep within your stomach as the lump in your throat prevented anything from actually coming up. The white-hot fear that had been nagging at every tip of your nerves finally seemed to shatter, making your knees weak and your heart pound in your chest.

No no no, you thought to yourself, hating the way you were already breaking down over something so small. Don't cry don't cry don't cry, it'll be one hundred times worse if you start crying, especially since you have to go to class in a few minutes, please, no no—

Your eyes stung, and even though you'd taught yourself over years of struggling with this to push it down, not to cry in front of everyone, your vision was already so blurry.

You thought you might have heard a voice speaking next to you, but it was as though you were a thousand miles away, or possibly deep, deep underground. Arms suddenly wound around your shoulders, effectively getting your attention. You felt yourself walking a few steps down the hall again before you were pulled into an empty classroom. The lights were off, and as soon as the door shut, the sounds of the hallway muffled to almost nothing.