Erase Herゾごホ

熱 - heat

Stopping a quirk is one thing.

Nullifying the cells that cause the chemical reaction to activate such a power, was no easy feat at first. It took years for me to perfect, poured together with sleepless nights and hours of staring at tiny wires bunched together on an impossibly tiny chip. Research, prototypes, and an uncountable amount of failures. Five years later and I barely scrapped together a semi-functioning 'Eraserhead'.

Now how do I make it so I can walk again?

Nerve damage, blood vessels, muscles. Things I never had to work with. If it was easy someone would've invented this already, right?

I flipped through one of my medical books, thumbing through the pages numbly as the many unknown words stared back at me. How do I fix nerve damage with my technology? How do I make it so I can walk again? I narrowed my eyes over a couple sentences, the fine print blurry slightly, smudging at the edges making me shake my head.

It's one thing to make life saving technology, it's another to make life saving technology when your brain is in a constant state of mush.

I let out a deep sigh, resting my head down on the kitchen table, slouching forward. What if I can't? It's hard enough to even imagine doing something as insane as this, how can I do something like this when things fuzz together so often and my brain malfunctions? All the motivation I once had seemed to be leaking from me at the seams at an alarmingly quick rate. I'm not so sure I can do this anymore. I blinked, heat flowing to my face as tears began to slip from my eyes. What if I can't fix myself?

"And how is the mad scientist doing?" His monotone voice curled gently at the end of his words as his giant hand sunk into the slightly knotted locks of my (h/c) hair. I groaned, picking my face up with a frown.

"I think my brain is going to explode." I mumbled. Shota let out a small laugh, pulling the chair out beside me and sitting down. "Did you know blood makes up about 8% of your body weight?" Shota rose an eyebrow at my odd fact of the day. I seem to have a lot of useless knowledge floating around in my head these days, I mean anyone would after completing Anatomy and Physiology: Volumes One through Twelve.

"That bad, huh?" He asked, propping his elbow up on the wooden surface as he spoke, "You've read those books cover to cover, let me get you some new ones."

"It's fine, I'll find something soon." I said under my breath, waving my hand in front of my face and unenthusiastically flipping to the first page of my book once again. I don't want anything else from the man that calls himself 'Eraserhead'. He has done so much for me. So much that I could never ever repay.

"Why don't you come to back to school?" Shota bluntly inquired, making me cringe at the question. I sat up from my hunched position, scrunching my nose up as if I were allergic to answering. Going back? The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I haven't consider it, not even when the Principal sent me a 'Return now or else you probably wont be able to graduate' letter.

"It's demeaning." I admitted. If I had returned earlier, I would've had my legs casted, a promising look of possible recovery. But now, my casts have been removed at my legs sit bare and motionless in my wheelchair without any hope of ever being useful again. How do you talk to someone who lost the ability to walk in just a matter of seconds?

"Then work with me." He proposed, my head tilting at his offer. "I'll talk to the Principal, discreetly of course, and snag you an aid position for my class."

"Shota..."

"That way you can work on your own experiments, you can use your classmate, and resume gaining credits for your graduation."

"Shota-."

"Just trust me. The kids in my class might be a bit...out there, but-."

"I'm scared." I blurted out, tears making my face flush red. "I don't want to be seen as the girl in a wheelchair, that's...that isn't me." Shota's eyes softened, hints of sorrow pooling around his dark hues. He let out a small breath, gathering his hair into a small pony tail for quickly wrapping a band around it.

"One period." He said, practically begging. "One hour, I'll even buy you Lunch Rush's soba." I smile made its way to my lips.

"Soba?"

"To think you can be bought so easily with the mention of food."

"I'll consider it." I teased, a small wave of anxiety making its way to my heart. I don't want to disappoint Shota, but I don't want to leave my own bubble of comfortability. Meeting the next generation of heroes? In a wheelchair? Nervous doesn't even begin to breach the feelings I held.

"Can I do anything to waver the decision in my favor?" Shota grinned, leaning forward and placing his palm against my bare thigh. I smirked, looking down at his touch.

"You know I can't feel that, right?" I giggled as Shota rolled his eyes.

"It's the thought that counts, (y/n)." Shota sighed, leaning forward so the strands of his bangs brushed against my cheeks. My lips parted, our eyes locking, my face heating up. His fingers hooked underneath his (unsurprising) black shirt I was wearing, his palms pressing against the inside my thighs and spreading my legs. "Shall we test what you can and can't feel, (y/n)?" He grinned devilishly, hopping off his chair and kneeling down to the floor. I could feel the blush creep onto my cheeks as he placed my thighs on his shoulders, wrapping his arms around my legs as he hoisted me forward slightly. I gasped, falling back a bit more into my chair as I glanced down at Shota who peered at me over the thin fabric of my striped panties.

"Sho..." I whispered gently. He hummed quietly, pressing his lips against my entrance, his voice sending vibrations into the more sensitive areas, making the grip on the arms of my chair tighten.

"So you can feel that." He poked, his long fingers gently moving the slit of my underwear to the side. I watched carefully, not really being able to tear my eyes away from the dark haired man as he tentatively brushed his lips against my opening. 

"Ai-Aizawa..." I breathed, my chest tightening as I dragged a hand up to rest atop of his head.

"'Aizawa'? I must have you really wound up, huh (y/n)?" He said smoothly, his breath breezing over all the places I fucking craved for it to rush through. "Become my aid." I bit my lip, looking up at the ceiling with a huff.

"Shota, I really don't-." My words were interrupted by a warmth spreading inside me, rubbing against the nicest and tingliest parts. I let out a small gasp, my gaze shooting back down. The ever enchanting Shota Aizawa stared back up at me as his tongue plunged two inches deeper than it need be. A moan broke free from my throat, my fingers intertwining themselves with his long black strands of hair. I pulled his head a tiny bit deeper, his tongue grazing the spots that made me whimper. Shota pulled away, cocking an eyebrow in my direction with a sneaky smirk.

"Be my aid."

"Fine," I groaned, annoyance radiating from my voice, "just fuck me."

"Ok, princess."