#ao3 shigaraki x reader

[strabara]

•.SHIGARAKI’S SEXTAPE.•

SUMMARY: Y/N is batshit crazy for Shigaraki that she finds him and confesses her undying love for him. And he promises to return her love only if she completes a small favor. Y/N of course blindly obliges.

Notes: I had posted this on AO3 AGESS AGOOO. But! I decided it deserved a remake. Also bc I’m making a second part soo yea :3 AGAIN as I’ve said before English isn’t my first language and it wasn’t very good 2 years ago.. so watch out for grammatical issues and terrible writing skills..

WARNINGS: NONCON, CREAMPIE, SHAMELESS SMUT, ROUGH SEX, BREEDING, CREAMPIE, FORCED PREGNANCY, NOT BETA READ, PLOT WHAT PLOT/ PORN WITHOUT PLOT, SEXTAPE, PITY SEX, HUMILIATION, OVERSTIMULATION, LOSS OF VIRGINITY

Y'know to the pro heroes the video that Shigaraki filmed of you looked fucked up. It was even more fucked up that it was being broadcasted live for everyone to see. People didn’t need to know who you were to know that you were 'Kidnapped'. After all they think you’re his hostage and you’re doing all of this against your will. But oh how they were so wrong. Right now you were seen as a barely clothed chained girl who was being forced to suck dick.

But to you this was all apart of your sick fantasy that you dreamed of! Sure it’s weird somebody even liked Shigaraki but no.. you loved him. You loved him so much that you'd do anything for him, LITERALLY. I mean here you were shamelessly rubbing circles to your clit as your face was getting fucked by Shigaraki! All they could hear was muffled moans and groans. A truly terrifying sight for anyone.

"Agh.. Look at you taking me so well.. I'll reward you with my disgusting cum you little slut."

You gurgled and sped up your pace to your clit. You moaned as you reached your peak and on cue he released his thick salty ropes into your mouth. You whine as they traveled down your throat. Panting as you hold your heavy eyes, tired from the Costant stimulation to your clit. God how this turned you on. He takes himself out of your mouth as he quickly grabs you by the neck, shoving your face into the camera.

"Open your mouth and show them how you swallowed a villians cum you Whore."

You slowly opened your mouth showing your tongue and bruised throat. You wanted to smile but couldn't since that would show you really weren't doing this against your will. Shigaraki started to laugh as he threw you to the floor making you whimper. He then grabbed you by the hair, pulling you towards him. He spreads your legs as he got inbetween them, his hard member falling onto your cunt making you flinch slightly. Almost instantly he disintegrating your panties before he put your thighs to your chest.

You were now basically naked, well except for the ripped up thigh high socks you had on. Your uniform was all ripped up and discarded to the side somewhere.

"How does it feel knowing your virginity will be stripped away from you by a villian? Not only that but I'll make you bear my children! You hear that? Your small cunts gonna be forced to swallow my villian seed!"

He smirks at you before he ran his tip along your slit, making you shudder. This made the heroes hearts drop. But only added love to yours. You couldnt believe this was actually happening!! The man you’d been in love with for who knows how long was about to take your virginity! Oh how luck was on your side.

"No p-please! I beg you! You can let me go I wont tell them anything I-I promise!"

You yelp as he slaps your pussy, grabbing and pulling at your clit. A hand went to your head before he grabbed a handful of your hair. His lips came to your ear all the while he had a smirk on his lips.

"Hmm i thought about it and how about.. No?"

And just like that he snapped his hips forward, pushing his large shaft into you with a single thrust. You choked as he stretched you out. You really were willing to do anything but the pain really did hurt. You screamed loudly all the while you threw your head back throwing weak punches to his chest. Shigaraki was quick to put a hand at your throat to shut you up.

"Hah.. Shit your sucking me in so good it’s like you want me to breed you! How dirty for a cute naive quirkless girl."

The camera catches the small streams of arousal mixed with blood trickle down your hole as it reached the floor. This was the final straw for the heroes.

"what the hell are we doing! This girl is getting Assualted and we're just going to let it happen?!"

The Lust hero, Midnight exclaimed.

"Look Midnight we can't do anything! We dont know where they are! And people wont let us search without creating a jam. I get it I want to help too but there’s nothing we can do.!"

 

 

You continued to moan and yelp as he reached into the deepest parts of you not caring about the people who were listening or watching. After a while the pain had subsided and turned into pleasure.

"P-please s' too much!~"

You moan loudly while his tip assualted your cervix every thrust he gave.

"Aw maybe i'll be nice if you’re a good girl and tell me you’re my cocksleeve."

You squeak as he gripped your hips tighter, almost as if he was promising he would leave bruises.

"N-no i don't want to be anything to you just let me gah!~"

You stop as he bites your body leaving love marks everywhere as he showed you’re HIS property. Shaking your head he licks up your neck until reaching your parted lips. Being quick to thrust his tongue in. Your mouth leaking with saliva while he dominated your mouth. He stops before he licking his lips, watching you gasp for air as your mouth quivered.

"Cmon say it, you’re my cocksleeve and you’re a slut that loves villian cock. Theres no way anyone else will want you. After all you’re being used up by a big bad villian!"

This Sickening Fantasy of yours was a dream come true!

"I-I’m your cocksleeve!~ and a slut who loves villian C-cock!~"

This was probably humiliating for others but it turned you on so much more. You shamelessly wrapped your arms around his neck while wheezing.

"Hey wait a minute.. You just got tighter! Ha that turned you on huh? How dirty of you."

You just continued to cry and whimper as you turned you head away, but that shortly changed when he started to hit your G spot. You yelp loudly before your arms left his neck, putting them on his abdomen to push him away.

"Whats wrong huh? Need to cum?"

You squeal as he rubbed your sensitive clit, making your toes curl and eyes roll back.

"A-ah no! I dont wanna cum!"

Your orgasm was approaching fast as he continued to hit your G spot all the while he teased your clit.

"Ha! What a treat! Cmon cum on this villian cock! I wanna hear how someone disgusting like me makes a good little civilian feel."

His hips rocked back and forth as your body bounced. He took this time to suck your nipples, bringing you over the edge you were so eagerly trying to get to.

"A-agh I’m cumming!~"

Unexpectedly you squirted all over him coating his cock and balls with your juices. He lets out a creepy laugh before gripping your jaw to look at him.

"Wow you’re disgusting! You said you didnt like me ya big perv! Well here’s my treat for you so make sure to swallow every bit of it! You'll look so pretty pregnant! Agh you'll be forced to be burdened with MY kids it’s just amazing!"

The overstimulation was bringing tears to your eyes as you shook your head no.

"No please pull out I dont wanna get pregnant!~"

His hips slammed into you fast at an animalistic speed as you continued to bounce. Your moans cracking from all the screaming, cheeks wet with tears and saliva. He roughly kisses you to shut you up as you felt a second release coming. Finally he slammed into you one last time releasing his sperm into your cervix. You moan into the sloppy kiss as your second orgasm ripped through you, making you to squirt again.


"Wow i must have really made you feel good, Not only that you squirted again, truly amazing guess quirkless people can make up for it huh."

You heavily breathed while letting out small whimpers. He started to cackle as he put the camera to your ahegao like face, along with pulling out of you to watch his cum ooze out slowly.

"Oops let’s just push that back in yeah?"

You whine as his finger pushes into

your sensitive cunt, plugging his cum inside. The pro heroes felt guilt in their hearts, they failed to protect a civilian. You on the other hand were fucked dumb. All you could think about was how good he made you feel, how full you felt. You let out a shaky breath as you pull your pussy apart. Allowing your hole to glisten from the camera's light.

"I-I’m yours only, P-please Mr. Shigaraki… use me to your h-hearts content."

You manage to slip out with tired heart eyes and a subtle grin. His smile just widens before he thrusted back inside you, making you moan softly.

"Of course how could I refuse such an offer?"

 

 

Multiple citizens were left traumatized, but this didnt stop many from being determined to find you. Although there were some people who were really weird about it. I mean somebody broke into the news station and stole the video!! They literally uploaded everywhere. Top trending video for awhile weirdly. Lots of people watched it they called it 'Shigaraki's sextape' it was super long, nearly 7 hours.

The search continued and continued which bugged the shit out of you! After all you were the one stalking Shigaraki and you were the one who told him about your crazy obsession, how you were in love with him, how you'd do anything he asked of you!.. Even if it would ruin your image. Couple of months had went by and you were now 5 months pregnant with triplets! Oh how happy you were. You found out that you were having 2 boys and a girl.

"Oh! Y/N look what I got you! Its perfect for your triplets so you can try to put them to sleep at the same time!"

You open the gift to find a small box it had a voice box so you were assuming it was to record your voice. With a smile you turned to the radio hero.

"Thank you Mr. Mic I appreciate this gift!"

Yea... about that, part of Shigaraki's plan was for you to get found so if he and his future league ever did need shelter they could stay in your apartment. But, you didnt get an apartment. Instead you got a huge ass house gifted to you from the pro heroes! After all they were filled with guilt that they couldnt save you from the so called 'Trauma' you experienced, or the fact you’re forced to have kids you 'don’t' want. And lets not even talk about how they found you and the state you were in, it was... something.

"Alright who's gift is this? There's no name."

"Dont know probably a gift sent from a random person."

Alot of the random gifts people sent were… questionable to say the least. Its also a bit unsettling that some people would comment on your instagram with the link to the video saying they 'wished it was them he did it to'. You won’t lie now you always click the link so you could watch him and in the end you always masturbate to it. You sigh, slowly ripping the wrapping paper to find a small box that looked shabby and old filled with bibs, onesies and a small envelope. You s slowly open the envelope to find a scratchy like note that read 'I love you, so you better make sure that my kids are well taken care of or else you'll regret it.' Wait.. Shigaraki spent his valuable time to send you gifts AND he told you he loved you!?

The Tomura Shigaraki wasted his precious breath on someone weird like you?! Kicking your feet you squeal and hold the note to your chest. You blush as you look up to the pro heroes surrounding you.

"What is it Y/n? A love letter? "

The pro heroes start to laugh as you giggle.

"No.. Its just... "

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Shigaraki truly does love me!.."

Notes: OKAYY so I did change some pieces here and there uhh sorry if there’s still mistakes I’m fucking blind. Hope you enjoyed! I’m currently working on part 2 now!

[simpinghour]

Shigaraki as your plug 🍃🌱

Shigaraki x reader, Mentions of oral sex, squirting, orgasm, weed

So before you get into this, I want to say that I am so sorry I've not been able to post. I am completely disabled. I'm smoking day and night bc gabapentin doesnt do shit for pain and I cant function any other way.

With that said, I used the voice to text to write most of this but it's still hell on my hands bc I had to use my laptop to edit and my hands are why Im disable. theyre numb as shit as i type this and i gott be up in four hours to go to the ss office.

but im high and is horny hours so here you go, Shigaraki x reader, Mentions of oral sex, squirting, orgasm, weed

Shigaraki is a creepy sort of dude, there's no denying it. But there was something about him that you liked all the same.

Then came the day where some drunk dude thought nothing of shoving his hand up your skirt and groping you at the cub.

By the time Shigaraki was done with the guy, he’d been left cowering in the alley with a broken hand and a busted nose.

He gained more of your respect after that.

It doesn’t hurt that he always is willing to give you free weed. But he always wants to linger at your place for longer than is needed for a regular drop off.

You’ve long suspected that he has a thing for you. Today you’re absolutely sure he does. He brought you some new strain that everyone has been raving about. You have Darkwave playing on low and you’re both reclined on your bed. Shigaraki’s hair tickles your bare calf and his fingers have been suspiciously inching closer and closer to the hem of your shorts.

“Do girls like it when you go down on them?” He asks, completely out of the blue.

Normally you’d be shocked, but the weed he brought has you literally locked into place among your mountain of pillows and squishes. Plus the vibe of the synths in your ear, the fairie lights strung among the floral garland in your room and the sweet sandalwood incense mingled with the dank weed is a delight for the senses.

“Some do,” you reply airily. “And some don’t. I understand why though; it’s only good when you have someone who knows what they’re doing and if not, they’re willing to learn.”

“Ah,” he replies in that oddly rough voice of his. His dry fingers are rubbing along the top of your thigh with more vigor now and you can hear Shigaraki swallowing hard.

“Does that mean you’re willing to teach?” He asks.

“Does that mean you’re willing to leave?”

“Yeah.”

You unceremoniously shift around to kneel up in bed and slip out your shorts and panties. They’re tossed to the floor and you grab a pillow, arrange it so you’ll be comfortable and lie down.

Shigaraki is staring at the entire scene unfold and there’s a strange glimmer in his red eyes. Your pussy has already begun throbbing as it’s been a while since you’ve had any action and you suspect that you’re dripping onto the sheets already.

Shigaraki isn’t even shy— he immediately slides flat onto his belly, slips both arms beneath your thighs and plants a hot, wet mouth directly upon you.

You don’t know if it’s beginner’s luck or what, but he suspiciously finds your clit with deft precision and somehow knows to warm it up gently with the flat of his tongue before aggressively sucking and licking away.

You’re secretly ashamed to admit how much you want to moan by the idea of letting your creepy plug eat your pussy like it’s dessert and do a damn good job.

And then Shigaraki sucks the underside of your clit in a way that forces a yelp out of you. It’s not long before shame leaves your body the way water escapes a popped balloon.

You barely recognize your own voice when you tell him to use his fingers but not go too deep. You’re sure the bastard is smirking the way he inserts two fingertips inside and nudges them juuust right into your g-spot, but you can’t tell because the sensation send a jolt so fierce throughout your entire body and now you’re clutching onto your pillow with both eyes squeezed shut.

Shigaraki seems to know he’s got you where he wants you, because your thighs are easily coaxed up into the air.

Between the perfect fingerwork combined with the perfect lips and tonguework on your now engorged clit, your orgasm hits you faster than you can anticipate. One moment you were sucking in air, trying to cope with the floaty sensation of being high combined with the hot, wet nasty feeling of someone’s open mouth completely engulfing your genitals without it hurting, and the next you were screaming Shigaraki’s name combined with incoherent gibberish as your pussy spasmed and spurted around his long, thick fingers.!

Eventually you realized Shigaraki had turned on the fan and lay back down next to you, in the same before when his soft blue hair brushed against your calf.

He kept going until you begged him to stop, and the only thing you could register was the soaked sheets beneath your ass and the way your body continued to tremble.

[dessertpanda]

To be a Hero... Or maybe PT5

To be a Hero PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 PT6 Master List

A lunch to remember

(Skipping Ahead a few weeks... Don't judge me) \

"Izuku! Hurry Your ass up" Y/N tried tugging her boyfriend out of the classroom so they could get lunch. "Shoto is waiting for usssss" She moaned, shaking his arm back and forth as he continued to slowly pack up his bag.

"Okay, Love... I'm going" He chuckled at her rushed pace, wanting both the delicious food and to meet up with the only official friend they've made so far. 'Guess not much has changed' He huffed, taking her hand and slinging his bag over his shoulder. Since they arrived... many of their classmates avoided them. Most were scared of Y/N and the others... didn't exactly want to associate with someone who was quirk-less. They spoke behind their backs, but the two heard every word... It saddened Y/N. Izuku could tell as the spark of hope that maybe, just maybe... He had found a space that welcomed him but it quickly faded. The most heartbreaking was the fact that her idol... Eraserhead... found one dangerous and the other useless. 'Damn this fucken school... breaking Her heart like that' he allowed his eyes to wander, passing classmates who only offered glances or glares.

"Izuku?" She squeezed his hand twice in an attempt to get his attention. With a soft hum, he glanced down at her, allowing his emerald eyes to meet her soft y/e/c. "Shoto said a teacher called him for a meeting" She sighed, scrolling back up through the parade of messages Shoto had sent her. "Man... you can tell this guy never had many friends.." She glanced back up at Izuku and giggled. "But then again neither have we!". As the lunchrush hero came into view, Y/N quickened her pace to grab both of them food.

(Mini mini Time skip)

As they took their seats across from one another at their now usual table, Y/N hummed excited for the meal that was prepared for the day. Izuku smiled as he dug into a hearty BLT, with a satisfied hum as his hunger was temporarily sated. He glanced up at Y/N offering a goofy-looking smile due to his mouth being full. "tis it goo?" He asked, mumbling as he spoke.

Y/N gently blew on her pasta, but immediately nodded her head the second she pulled the fork from her mouth. "Delicious" She hummed, savoring the savory but sweet taste of the sauce. He chuckled softly at her bright smile and lips slightly covered in the sauce. They enjoyed the silence at the table, allowing the hustle and bustle from the cafeteria to fill it. It was kinda peaceful, however, they were both painfully aware that they would most likely never be accepted into such fun. However, their silent thoughts didn't last that long because there were heavy steps that were quickly approaching their table. Izuku looked up to see who was approaching and the subtle drop of his face caused Y/N to look behind her. "Bakugo" She whispered, seeing the angry blonde walk towards their table, his eyes never leaving Izukus's sitting position. "Don't panic..." She sighed, moving to gently grab Izuku's hand.

"R-Right" Before he could fully respond, a hand slammed onto their table, sparks flying as he did so. The aggressiveness caused Y/Ns fork to fall off the table. With a now annoyed look, she took a deep breath in an attempt to maintain her composure. Izuku however, couldn't help the way his eyes narrowed, his body tensed, and that familiar flicker of anger crossed over him. "Kacchan" His eyes were now locked with those of the attacker, anger evident behind them.

"Bet you think you're so great? Huh? Survived the first month" His hand continued to spark and flicker causing the table to burn under his touch... "But you'll never be accepted... The quirkless and the freak! Quite the pair" He growled, watching them closely for some type of reaction.

"How funny for you to say such ignorant words... We sit at the top of the class currently and yet" She was quickly cut off when Bakugo was now in her face. She didn't flinch but only matched his glare.

"Always got a fucken mouth on you! Let us settle this! huh?!" He quickly swiped his hand, knocking her plate onto the ground. "Right now! I'll fight both of you and kick your asses!" He seethed with anger, now standing straight up, and began making his way to the courtyard just outside the doors of the cafeteria.

"Fine... if it will stop you from bothering us further.... then Let us do so" She huffed, angered that her food was now ruined, her day, and her mood also ruined due to him. "I simply want you out of our lives... as much as we can do since you're still in our class" Izuku was quick to follow, he didn't like the interaction that had just happened... in fact, he wanted to see Bakugo spill blood for ruining such a lovely moment between them. None of them noticed the slight bit of the air shift, as a deep dark swirl slowly disappeared from the corner of the room.

"How interesting... I think I like those two... you can feel the blood lust" A deep chuckle sounded before it was slowly consumed by the noise of the room.

As the three stood in the courtyard, the tension in the air was so thick it could be cut. "So... who do you want to fight first?" Y/N broke the silence, her voice annoyed but the slightest bit of thrill due to the approaching battle.

"I want you first! Rather use the energy on someone half worth fight" His face comforted into a sinister smirk. "I'll kick your ass and then throw the damn Deku through a window... see if that finishes the job" He cracked his neck and stretched his hands up over his head, groaning with his back released satisfying pops. Y/N however, only hummed at his words, she had no issue fighting him first... however, she feared if he continued to run his mouth.... he just might get himself killed.  "Alright, you freak... Let's see if your damn Bites are as good as your bark" He settled into a battle position, much different from when they first fought. Anyone could tell he's been training, he was a buffer and his stance represented that of someone who knew what they were doing.

"Don't blame me for beating you black and blue" She sighed, lifting her leg into her own stance. She glanced at Izuku who had found a seat a good distance from the battlefield to avoid getting in the way. Both stood still for a moment, each wanting to show their dominance. Even with the fresh air of the outside, it still felt heavy, as if two gods were about to face off. 'More like a god and a wanna-be hero' Y/N smirked as she watched his hips shift, signaling he was going to move.

The soft sounds of crackling from Bakugos palms were heard, he allowed his sweat to run... fueling his fire. He couldn't resist his primal instinct to attack fist, with a quick step he was on her, relishing stronger explosions and punches. His speed surprised her, which allowed him to get a few hits in before she was able to catch her movements up. She blocked and dodged, moving faster than she had in their previous fight. His frustration only grew as she continued to evade his attacks, exactly the same as she had done about a year ago. It angered him... he thought he had caught up to this monstrosity of a woman... but it was as if he was standing still. He trained day in and day out... beating her was like a final boss before he could continue happily down his hero path but it appeared... it wasn't enough. "AGHH" He screamed letting his punch fly faster and his explosion expanding in range.

Y/N shifted her stance kicking out his leg before pushing herself away from him. As she assessed the situation, she quickly switched to offensive mode. Moving quickly and sending a punch into his lower jaw. It was as if a shock wave hit his body, her punch was pinpoint and accurate, causing the pain to seethe through his body. With a soft stumble, he tried to regain his footing but was quickly knocked off balance again by another one of her hits. "Come on Kacchan~ thought you were gonna kick my ass?" She giggled, containing her attacks with punches and Kicks alike. Some he was able to dodge others landed exactly where they were aimed.  "And my worthless quirk hasn't even been used yet" She whispered into his ear as she got close to him. He quickly reacted by sending an explosion that sent them both flying back.

Gritting his teeth, he stood gripping his arms which were already bruising.... Her sheer physical strength was unbelievable... It horrified him. No average woman should be as strong as him... Not when he's at his peak but Y/N was some sort of demon... a devil... a necromancer... Her skills were honed, perfect to a level far above anyone at the fresh age of 18 should be. He huffed, allowing his eyes to focus on her body, he hadn't even registered that she was moving until a heavy right hook caught his face. "Gak" He spit out blood as his world spun quickly, he stumbled trying to stay up but ultimately he was knocked on his ass. He lied their realization washing over him. He was outclassed, in terms of speed, strength, maturity, and skill overall. She had proven that to him without question by leaving him there, beaten and bruised.... just like she had promised.

"So Kacchan... I kept my promise... can you keep yours" She asked standing over him, smirking as his eyes continued to swirl within his brain. "Izuku's eager.." She hummed, watching as he held his head, struggling to sit up completely. His pride was still evident on his facade, he was hurting but no way in hell was he going to allow Izuku to win by default.

"Like hell, I'll forfeit to that damn Deku" Defeat was hard to swallow for him... but he refused to do so without walking out without at least one win... with his pride in the most amount of Pain. Kacchan stood, wincing and wheezing as he did so. "Hng" He wobbled as he stood, quickly moving to wipe the blood that dripped down his nose but nonetheless he stood and took a stance.

"You ready?" Y/N asked, wiping her face with her discarded sweater to clean the grime, dirt, soot, and blood off. She glanced at Izuku when she received no response from him, she gasped as his face was twisted into a sick smile. She had seen it before, and she couldn't help but giggle. Force once Izuku was excited to face Bakugo, he wanted to face off with him... for his own sheer enjoyment.

"Y-Yeah" he took a shaky step towards Bakugo, while Y/N moved to sit where he once was. With a deep breath, his shaking eyes met Bakugos fiery ones, bleeding with determination.

"You look a little scared there Deku... You really gonna let her make you fight me?" He tisked... "poor boy, so smitten that he'll die for her own entertainment" Nobody missed the way Bakugo continued to sway, still feeling the pain from her previous hits... yeah his forearm was definitely fractured. With a quick smack to his cheeks, Izuku refocused himself on the task at hand... maybe not necessarily beating Bakugo... but at least making him bleed a little more. He could feel her eyes, her pride, her love... she was so proud of the length he had come... from that sad, suicidal boy to one now that could stand with confidence. " SPEAK YOU DAMN DEKU" Bakugo was getting increasingly angrier with Izuku's lack of response. His eyes narrowed as Izuku sank into a fighting stance, watching as his face seemed to have locked in on His body... as if he was analyzing his very being.

With the sudden shift in demeanor, Bakugo followed his move. He was expecting the boy to be shaking, and crying... but he was only met with a cold and determined expression. "Well Well Well... looks like someone decided to stop being a doormat!" He crackled his hands, as way he used to scare Izuku just a few years ago. "Let's see if you've been a good bitch and learned some new tricks!" Before he could continue, Izuku was on the move, his speed surprised Bakugo... 'He couldn't even run a lap last time I saw him' Bakugo gasped as he brought his arms up to block Izuku's punch... He was right the last time he saw Izuku at P.E. Senior year... he was so exhausted from training he could barely walk. His punch was powerful.... not inhuman, not like hers, but definitely stronger than the average man. 'W-who the hell' His thoughts ran rapid... he mostly left him alone through the end of High School... last he checked he was a weak Deku with no skill, strength, or speed yet here he was proving him wrong.

His sheer growth is what caused Bakugos confidence to waver the slightest bit… he had underestimated him and he was paying the price. Lost in his own thoughts Bakugo was unable to dodge the knee that hit his stomach sharply. Being already bruised from the previous match… everything hurt 10X more than it should. Hunching over and coughing up some of his lunch… Izuku surprised himself. He knew the only reason Bakugo had gone down so easily was due to the ass-beating Y/N had given him… but it still felt good. He felt like a god… never before had he ever felt such a surge of strength and confidence… “Ha HAHAHA YEAHHH” he screamed cheering happily and laughing like a maniac.

“Izuku!” Y/N went to warn him but was too late as Bakugo sent a blast that sent Izuku flying through a window…’ just like he had predicted’ She felt a bead of sweat fall as the shattered glass fell and surrounded Izuku. Bakugo stood, still holding his gut, and smirked at Izukus's motionless body…

”Damn Deku… stay the fuck down or die” He huffed, slowly walking towards Izuku's body… however what he wasn’t expecting was a soft groan and a very alive and conscious Izuku. He gasped at the man… bloody, scratched riddled, with chunks of glass sticking out of his arms, hair, and neck. “W-What the fuck?” He took a step back, watching as Izuku struggled to stand… slicing his hand open as he grabbed onto the window seal.

”Y-you Know Kacchan… turns out I did have a quirk” Izuku winced slightly as he yanked a chunk of glass from his bicep… “Always wondered how your explosions never killed me… why they hurt but never as much as they should have” Now back at his full height, limping forwards out of the shattered mess. “turns out… I just might have a quirk… a little thing called pain endurance” He muttered, slowly and desperately making his way to Y/N. “I give up… you win” he huffed, now with his back turned to the fiery blonde he looked up to face Y/N “ I’m sorry… I failed”

“oh, baby…. You did just fine” she mumbled, gently running her magic-coated hand over his body to remove the shards of broken glass. “ you punched him… and that was enough” She was saddened at his watery eyes… but she could see the tiniest hint of pride at not only standing up to Bakugo but actually hurting him.

Still standing in shock… A quirk… no he was messing with him… right? No way a kid who’s been quirkless this entire time suddenly gets one. He refused to believe it… how “YOU DAMN DEKU SON OF A BITCH YOU BEEN LYING” Bakugo snapped… how dare he hide such a thing. The trust was… Izuku didn’t actually have a quirk… he just lacked some nerves within his body allowing it to endure more pain. So Y/N took advantage of it.

Y/N gently moved from where she was healing Izuku's wounds, allowing her entire body to face him… “ you’re such a di” she was cut off when swirls of purple and black began to separate them… “t-that’s not me” she whispered, moving the still somewhat injured Izuku behind her. All eyes widened as a hand reached out for the couple, fingers twitching as the arm slowly followed. “BAKUGO!! RUN” Y/N screamed… she didn’t know what was going on… but whatever it was, she knew he shouldn’t be here.

“FUCK THAT I AINT LETTING YOU” He argued, believing this was her doing, some strange shit with her magic.

“UGHH YOU IDIOT” She screamed, suddenly swiping her hand as a pair of arms snatched Bakugo up, Dragging him away.

“W-WHAT THE FUCK!!! HEY,” He continued screaming as this unknown being dragged him away. Y/N huffed, a lot of her energy drained with that move.

“Ugh, huff hate calling him and then making him leave” She huffed, leaning into Izuku but maintaining her eyes on the man who was now complaining through the portal… sitting there… watching the two and running his nails up and down his neck.

“It's a pleasure to finally meet you..”

(Okayyyy!! Now we really start.... i'm not gonna lie to yall.... this is a whole ass story at this point hehe) My bad BUT ANWYAS

Thank you all for the support and love!!! HAVE A GREAT DAY AND REMEMBER TO EAT, DRINK, AND LOVE YOURSELF BYEEEEEE LOVE YOU ALL

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Two Hours - Chapter 2 - Shigaraki x Reader

After a little over three months, you had gathered a significant amount of information on Tomura Shigaraki.

He was smart, incredibly so, and an absolute genius with computers. He was probably the most hardcore gamer you had ever met and simply refused to lose a single match of any game. And, most importantly, he was kind of an asshole.

"Seriously? That's all the content you prepped for today? What am I even paying you for?"

He toyed with the greyed-out strings of his hoodie in boredom. "They were basically the same as the ones from two weeks ago," he grumbled.

"Well," you said as calmly as you could, "I could have prepared more if you actually did the lectures I asked you to do last week."

"They were useless."

"How could you know that if you didn't read them ?"

"I don't need to do something useless to be able to tell it's useless."

So maybe the jawline he hid under his layers of oversized black clothing was as sharp as it was delicate. Anyone could recognize an attractive jawline without making it weird. You certainly could.

"The idea is that we both work to help you, Tomura," you replied with much less bite than you would have liked. The look of superior smugness on his face didn't disappear.

Maybe the little mole under his lip looked lonely there. Like it needed to be kissed. That was a totally normal, platonic thought to have about someone you saw once a week and who did nothing but complain.

"I don't know," he grinned in a mocking sing-song tone, "I think you like helping me."

Ever since the afternoon you had spent playing video games with him, something had changed in your perspective of him. And he certainly wasn't the one who had changed: he was still very much a pain in the ass to work with.

No, the change was from you.

You couldn't remember the last time you had let anyone take a peek under your prime scholar's persona, much less someone who enjoyed it as much as he did. When was the last time you had gamed with someone? Told them about all your nerdy little interests without feeling rejected? Joked about something other than your thesis topic?

Poetry wrote itself in your mind every time you'd think of him. His skin was like cracked porcelain, pale and white, the marks marking his face doing nothing to dampen his beauty. If anything, it only made him more interesting, more enticing, and you wanted to trace each of his scars with the tip of your fingers.

You were going insane for a guy who had visibly never kissed anyone in the 3D realm, and you couldn't even find the will to care about it.

He stretched lazily, a sliver of skin showing an impressively toned stomach before it was covered back with black fabric. What else was he hiding under there?

Obviously, you hadn't gotten laid in too long. There was no other explanation as to why you'd feel so attracted to him. You tried to shake off the thought, reminding yourself that it was just a momentary lapse in judgment. But everything about him seemed to pull you in, a magnetic force you couldn't resist. Did you even truly want to?

"You know," Tomura said, his voice low and casual, "if you keep staring at me like that, people might start to think you're into me."

You blinked, snapping back to reality, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What? No! I was just... thinking about your midterm paper. That's coming soon, isn't it ?"

He sighed loudly, slouching back in his chair, giving you the perfect opportunity to at least try to regain your composure.

"I don't know what I'm even supposed to write about. The teacher is so bad at his fucking job half the time I wonder if he's not some homeless guy the university pays to stand around and do nothing," he complained, and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh. After a second, like he had hesitated before saying it, he casually added: "You'd be way better at teaching the class."

You tried to hide your surprise at the unexpected compliment, failing miserably the moment you heard your voice come out as a shaky squeak: "Well, um, thank you. That's very nice of you to say."

"I don't say things to be nice. I say them because they're true," he retorted bluntly.

Damn it, you thought as you felt another pleased smile tug on your lips. Damn it all to hell. You couldn't let him dig his way deeper into your stupid little heart.

"You know," you said, desperately wanting to change the topic, "I could pull out my own paper I wrote back in the day for the class. I'm sure I have it somewhere back at the dorm. Maybe that could give you some inspiration!"

"Sure, just text me some pictures later," he replied, seemingly uninterested.

"Or we could go get it at my dorm now, and look at it together."

The weight of your words seemingly hit you both all at once like a 20,000-pound truck.

"Me," he stated, his thin eyebrows shot up in surprise. "At... your dorm?"

You had fucked up. You had fucked up so badly that perhaps your only choice now was to run out of the library, change your name, and leave the country.

If you took it back, and laughed it off as a stupid slip of the tongue, Tomura would no doubt take it badly. Very badly. And he was not the kind of person you wanted on your bad side.

If you rolled with it, pretended you had actually meant to invite him to a place with a conveniently lockable door and a soft pillowy bed, he might catch on as to the very bothersome feelings that you held for him. That wasn't a very good option either, but the lesser of the two evils was obvious.

"Well, guys aren't usually allowed in, b-but the security guy will let you through if I tell him you're with me !" you explained quickly, trying to sound confident.

The embarrassing truth was, you had never brought a guy back to your dorm. Fool around at some dude's apartment or in the back of his car, sure, but never inside your own private little space.

Tomura, on his end, looked like you had just asked him to go into an active war zone. "I-I don't know..." He hesitated, glancing around at every item in the library to avoid looking you in the eye. "Maybe just like five minutes? I have shit to do after, so..."

"Don't worry, we'll be in and out," you reassured yourself more than him, eager to be done with the entire situation, "It'll be fine."

---

It was definitely not fine.

The game was called Kira Kira~☆! Stories of Dormitory Love, which was a stupid name for an equally stupid game. Tomura was fifteen and he had discreetly bought it online using Kurogiri's credit card, because he had learned the hard way Sensei checked his account statements. If Kurogiri had noticed, he never said anything about it.

The synopsis of the game, if anyone could really call it a synopsis, was that you, the protagonist, were called to do repairs in an all-female dormitory. You'd go about screwing all the girls one by one as they'd throw themselves at your feet, begging to be taken with their round tits and perfect asses. Tomura spent that entire summer locked in his room playing it over and over again.

As it turned out, that scenario was much less pleasant in real life.

He felt the eyes of every girl they passed, judgmental and disgusted at the mere sight of him there. They huddled in little groups like scared chickens, muttering between themselves as they threw him worried looks. He glared right back at them, and one of them let out a small gasp like she would faint out of fear. Good. He hated it, he hated them. But to some extent, he couldn't fully blame them; he didn't belong here in the slightest.

Tomura's fingers held onto his neck protectively, his uneven nails digging as deep as they could into the skin. The pain didn't help; he was still definitely there.

And you.

You made it all so much worse with how nice you were to him, and how you laughed at every dumb thing he'd say, and how you licked your lower lip in focus every time you'd try to explain something-

He hated you for it.

"If you want, when we're done looking over my paper, we can play some Plus Ultra 2 on my computer," you smiled hesitantly at him, completely oblivious to how badly you were messing him up.

"I don't really feel like gaming anyway," he muttered between his teeth. It was a lie, an absolute fucking lie: he never felt like not gaming.

From the moment you had told him to fuck off under the rain, he had liked you. But you weren't any different from any of the dumb pretty girls he'd jack off to at night; at least not at first. You glared at him with fear and disgust, like you knew he'd spend the rest of the afternoon picturing you pinned under him and choking on his cock. And why wouldn’t you? No woman in her right mind would look at him and think he was anything other than a creep.

Until you did exactly the opposite.

You started smiling when you'd see him walk into the library. You'd laugh at his dry sarcasm and bad attempts at humour. You'd hang on to his every word when he explained the secret behind mastering a peculiarly hard combo, eyes filled with wonder. You'd look at him with pride and genuine joy when he finished all the lectures you had given him.

And suddenly, it wasn't just about how tight all your shirts looked on your chest, or how well your ass would fit against the palms of his hands. It was about everything else, all the cheesy shit he never understood and skipped in dating sims to get to the sex scenes. He despised how easily you had gotten him under your thumb, ready to do anything for you without even realizing it. He wanted you to think of him as much as he thought of you, more, even. You were an obsession he couldn't get rid of, and it itched, it itched, it itched- but not at his skin, no, much deeper, into the depths of his entrails and in a heart he didn't even realize he still had.

You turned back to look at him as if you felt his inner turmoil, a small pout tugging at your lips. He wanted to rip it off you with his teeth.

"C'mon, just one game? Last time you said you’d teach me how to triple combo with Present Mic."

"Whatever," he said instead, staring holes into the floor. Why was the floor so goddamn clean? Did girls clean their floors every day? Why was everything about you so picture-perfect?

Fuck you, he thought.

"Oh hey, Neijire!"

His head snapped back up. Oh no.

A few girls were sitting on an assortment of couches, watching some kind of stupid TV show. One of them replied to your greeting with a smile so bright it hurt his eyes. He wondered if all pretty girls gravitated around each other naturally.

The girl he could only assume was Neijire excitedly jumped off the couch, tightly wrapping her arms around your body. His lips tightened at the sudden sting of jealousy, at the fact that she could so easily touch you while the idea of holding your hand made him delirious.

"Hey, oh my gosh, you're here!" the overly energetic girl squealed. "Wanna watch some Love and War? We just started season 2 and the plot is so crazy-"

Then, she noticed him, and her bright demeanour fell slightly.

"Oh, is he... is he with you ?" she gently asked you, like she wasn't sure if it was safe to address him directly.

"Yeah, this is Tomura, one of the guys I tutor !" you replied.

'One of the guys ?' Tomura bitterly thought. Was he nothing more to you than one of the other NPCs you tutored? Did you bring the others to your dormitory too?

If you noticed how quickly his mood had soured, you didn't show it: "Maybe we could borrow the common room for a couple of minutes? I just need to go over some material with him really quickly!"

Neijire turned around to look at the other girls, the unspoken hesitation written all over their faces as they glanced at him.

"I don't know," Neijire softly started, "we just started watching TV. Maybe another time, if he comes back ?"

Please don't come back, was the implicit message under that sentence.

"No worries! We'll just go in my room," you said, and he noticed the worried fidgeting of your hands. There was no way you could feel as stressed as he did going into your room. You probably had guys in there every week, hell, every day for all he knew. What did you have to be nervous about?

As you both headed up a flight of stairs toward the second floor, Tomura couldn't help but feel some excitement in between the overwhelming sense of dread. Being in such close proximity to you, entering your personal space, stirred something within him that he couldn't quite comprehend. He had never, in his entire life, even gotten close to the inside of a girl's room.

'Toga doesn't count', his mind supplied unhelpfully. 'Toga would let a raccoon inside her room if she could.'

The moment you opened the door, it was dizzying: the flowery smell, the pastel pink walls, the books neatly organized together in shelves worthy of a magazine spread. It left a sickly sweet taste in the back of his mouth, and he tried to nonchalantly observe the room to savour every inch of it. It was probably the closest he'd ever get to tasting you.

The room was small, much smaller than his own back at the bar. A simple bed, a drawer, a suspended shelf, and a work desk with a foldable chair were the only furniture of note. As simple and boring as one could do.

But then as he walked in, Tomura noticed a few things much less visible from the doorway. Various trinkets laid around the room; a bag of takeout was haphazardly thrown into a small trashcan; a pair of mismatched socks were left on the windowsill, seemingly forgotten. On the furthest wall, there was a small but obviously cared-for poster of All Might, half of his classic I AM HERE catchphrase hidden by a laundry basket.

It was like all the girl's bedrooms he'd imagined but... different. Like someone actually lived there.

"Let me try and find that paper," you hopped away to the suspended shelf, taking out various coloured folders filled to the brim with papers. You clearly weren't kidding when you told him you saved every single one of your essays.

"You can just sit anywhere while I find it," you said without looking back at him, and his thoughts immediately went to the bed. The bed that you had slept in. The bed that you were sleeping in every night. The bed that you probably touched yourself in, and that he could justifiably sit in without looking like a creep.

He was going to go insane.

"I-I should probably just wait downstairs," he managed to stutter out. He could feel his face heating up; he had to get out of the room, and fast, or you would definitely notice.

"No no, wait, I found it !" you triumphantly exclaimed as you pulled out a stapled document from one of the many files. "There's not a lot of space on my desk, so we can just... sit next to each other on the bed and look it over?"

You smiled brightly at him, a tinge of red on your cheeks, unaware of the nuclear bomb you had just sent off in his brain. He had to say something to get out of there. Anything.

"People are going to think we're having sex," he blurted out.

Fuck.

That was unequivocally the dumbest thing he had said in his entire life. He was going to dump university and never leave his room again. He'd live as a hermit and survive off Mountain Dew and Lays chips until the ends of time. It didn't sound too bad, actually; at least that way, he wouldn't have to see your face ever again.

The look on your face stayed blank for a few horrifyingly heavy seconds. The silence felt deafening, ringing in his ears like the "GAME OVER" theme in an RPG.

And then, you laughed.

You fucking laughed at him.

Anger bubbled up inside him faster than he could control it. It itched. Everything itched.

Of course you laughed. You didn't like him, and you never had. You probably laughed at his jokes to get him to shut up. You brought him to your room out of pity, to mock him. All the girls downstairs were probably on it too, cackling in laughter at how stupid he was for thinking you saw something more than a scared-up freak when you looked at him.

"I'm fucking out of here," he spat out, storming around to open the door. The feeling was crawling up his arms, up his neck. It itched.

"Wait, Tomura!"

You grabbed his arm and he roughly shoved it away, almost making you fall down. Your eyes were blown in surprise, and perhaps, a little fear. Good. You should fear him. He'd never make the mistake of trusting anyone again. How had he even let himself trust you?

"I get it, I'm the joke. Ha, ha, you bring up the freak to your room, make him think he has a chance with you, and laugh in his face, everyone claps," he jeered.

"That's not what I meant, I-" you started.

"Is the idea of being with me that disgusting to you ?" he harshly cut you off. It came out sounding more hurt than furious. I'm so pathetic.

"Shigaraki. That's not what I meant," you said softly, as if trying to calm a wild animal. He wasn't having any of it.

"So now, you're back to calling me Shigaraki," he bit back bitterly. "The whole buddy-buddy thing was an act too, huh."

"Tomura, stop."

He looked at you now, properly looked at you, fury burning in his eyes, and you flinched.

You didn't look like you were having fun.

You looked... hurt.

"Tomura, I brought you here because I like you. As in, I really like you."

You were trying to bait him again. You wouldn't fool him twice.

"Yeah, sure," he snorted, voice dripping with irony. "That's why you laughed, right ?"

"I laughed because I was stressed out, I-I didn't know if it was appropriate to bring you here, because I'm tutoring you, and I didn't know if you actually liked me-" you rambled like a deer caught in headlights.

"You seriously expect me to believe that? That you were worried I liked you?"

"I laughed because I've been thinking about nothing but having sex with you for the last month and you're worried about people thinking we're having sex!"

The blunt admission caught him off guard. His breath hitched in his throat, his mind struggling to process your words.

"So you... think about me," he rasped out, a glimmer of vulnerability in his tone.

The weight of what you had just said seemed the catch up to you. Your cheeks tinted a deeper shade of pink, and you made an expression you had never made before in front of him. You were embarrassed. Genuinely, honestly embarrassed.

"And? So what if I do?" you mumbled, desperate to avoid his gaze.

"What do you think about me doing to you?" Tomura insisted. He was pushing his luck, he knew he was. But he had to know. He had to know if this was real.

Your lack of answer frustrated him, and he tsked in disappointment.

"C'mon," he taunted. "Where's the girl who told me to fuck off when we first met? Was that all an act too?"

Silence. I knew it, he thought bitterly.

Then, in a moment that defied all logic and expectations, you closed the distance between you both, and you kissed him.

---

It was messy, full of wet tongue and clashing teeth; it wasn't hard to guess it was the first time he'd ever kissed someone. But what he lacked in experience and technique, he made up in sheer passion, his body holding your own so tightly you felt like he wanted to swallow you whole.

You gasped for air when he pulled away, a single thread of saliva connecting your mouth to his. His eyes were blown wide, pale cheeks a deep crimson, mouth agape as if he had just witnessed an otherworldly miracle. Had anyone ever looked at you that way, so desperately raw and honest?

"Again," he let out a low, broken whisper, "do that again."

You couldn't tell if it was a request or a command, and it frankly didn’t seem like he knew either, but you immediately complied, pulling him back against you.

You guided his mouth to your bottom lip with your tongue, hoping he'd get the message. With precision, he copied the movement, watching you carefully for any reaction. You let out an approving moan and he seemed emboldened by it, deepening the kiss and wrapping his body over yours, trapping you against the wall.

When had his hand found its way under your shirt? You felt rough fingers drag along your skin, curious and possessive, grabbing at the flesh like he wanted to take parts of you back with him, like he wasn't sure this was real.

Knock knock.

"Anyone home?"

You both froze. Shigaraki looked at you like an animal caught in a trap, eyes wide and mouth still slightly agape.

"Move, move!" you hissed at him, pushing him off you. "Just a second!" you shouted at the door.

Shigaraki was still looking at you with the face of a confused child left alone in a supermarket. He wasn't going to be any help. You straightened your shirt and quickly combed your fingers through your hair before opening the door.

"Ah, Miss Kayama!" you smiled tightly at the dorm's resident advisor. "I'm sorry, is the TV too loud? I can lower the volume,"

"No, no, the TV is fine," she replied, peeking through your doorway. "In fact, I don't think your TV is even on."

You could have died right on the spot.

Miss Kayama tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, straining her glasses. "I was just made aware you brought a guest over, so I came to remind everyone that there are no visitations allowed after seven."

"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was seven already !" you stammered hurriedly. "I was just telling Tomura he should pack up." You turned around to give the man a look: "Right, Tomura ?"

Tomura was still standing against the wall, as unmoving as a rock. He looked as though he had been frozen in time after the kiss, like his mind had short-circuited trying to process it.

"Tomura," you repeated more pressingly.

The sound of your voice seemingly pulled him from his trance, and he nodded slowly, walking towards the door like an automaton. He bumped against Miss Kayama's shoulder, and disappeared without a word down the wooden stairs.

"I'll see you next week," you weakly called out.

He didn't answer.

Miss Kayama slowly closed to door behind her, her usually delicate features were scrunched in worry. "Sweetheart, what you girls do in your dorm rooms isn't my business, as long as you're being safe about it. But who you bring here is important to me," she added, her tone more serious than you had ever heard before. "Make sure you don't mingle with the wrong kinds of people."

You opened your mouth to answer, then closed it.

Was there anything you could even reply to that?

---

The next few days were not fun ones.

[You: Hey, sorry about the whole kicking you out thing, Ms. Kayama really means well but sometimes she's strict with the rules]

There was still no answer three hours after you sent the text, which did not bode well at all. Any time Tomura's hands weren’t on any kind of gaming console, they were on his phone. He didn’t go anywhere without it, and you'd gotten used to getting replies to your messages within mere seconds. You sent a second attempt:

[You: My TV excuse was pretty lame right]

You laid on your stomach as you kicked your legs against the bed, glaring holes through the phone. Maybe your Wi-Fi was unstable?

[You: We actually call her Midnight in the dorm, cause she gets REALLY cranky when anyone has lights on after that]

Still no answer. You felt absolutely ridiculous, a lovesick teenager waiting for her crush to give her any attention. He had kissed you. Or rather, you had kissed him, and he hadn’t exactly pushed you away. That had to count for something.

You sighed, turning off your phone before huddling in your covers and closing your eyes. He'd definitely answer by tomorrow morning.

But when you woke up, there wasn't a single new message from Tomura Shigaraki.

[You: Hey, I sent you pictures of the paper I told you about, hope it helps with your assignment!]

[You: Sent 4 images]

The day passed as it usually would. You washed your face and brushed your teeth, got dressed, grabbed a quick breakfast, and made your way to your morning lecture. The hours seemed to drag on as the teacher talked, his words going through one ear and out the other. And still, no text from Tomura.

The next day had come and gone without any more communications. Your messages sat alone in your discussion, unread. Soon, the weekend passed too, and still, no word from Tomura.

[You: Are we still on for tutoring on Wednesday? I can move it if you need me to]

To say you had been freaking out would have been an understatement. For as much as you tried to control it, you felt like a mess, barely able to go fifteen minutes without checking your phone for messages. Was he that mad you had to kick him out? Did he still think the kiss wasn't genuine? Did he leave the country to join a pro gamer team, just to get as far away from you as he could?

The questions ran through your mind like an endlessly spinning record.

[You: Just tell me whenever you can!]

Would he even show up on Wednesday? Would it be like the first time you had met him, waiting hours for him to come, except this time, he never would?

You grabbed your face between your hands. Enough. You couldn't let one kiss send you through a never-ending spiral of doubt. If he was there on Wednesday, then great, you would talk. If he wasn’t, well, you'd deal with your feelings then and ask the faculty for someone else to tutor him.

And if you left the volume for your notifications on at maximum for the next few days, well, that was nothing more than a coincidence.

---

"Hey."

The familiar yet unexpected raspy voice almost made you fall out of the library chair, the sound of your book dropping on the table echoing through the building. The librarian threw you a dark look you barely registered, your mind focused on the tall man with dark red eyes standing next to you.

"Hey," you hesitantly said, awkwardly fidgeting with your hands. When had you gotten so self-conscious? "I wasn’t sure if you would come."

He answered with a small grunt, still not sitting down next to you. Deep, dark circles sagged under his eyes, and you wondered if he had also spent his week barely sleeping every night.

"Well," you said in the happiest tone you could muster, "we can start by checking your draft for the midterm, and seeing what we can add-"

"I already finished the midterm," he interrupted drily. "I sent it in last night."

"Oh," you swallowed slowly. Your throat was starting to feel itchy. "I guess we can... start looking at your next lectures then."

"I don't want to," he objected. "Let's just go somewhere instead."

Out of everything he could have said, that was one of the sentences you least expected.

"Tomura," you answered with uncertainty, "I'm still supposed to be tutoring you."

"And I'll tell the advisor you're the best fucking tutor there ever was and this session was great, now, will you just shut up and follow me ?" he groaned impatiently, his right hand wrapping around his neck and scratching at the fragile skin. He was anxious.

"Alright," you said softly, gathering your things before getting up and silently following the man out of the library.

The walk there was not the comfortable, calming silence you had gotten used to around him. It felt clunky, awkward, the unspoken weight of last week's kiss like a dark cloud above your heads, ready to erupt in thunder at any moment.

Once again, he led you off the beaten path and into alleyways you had never taken before. What did you truly know about him, after all? There had been so many unanswered questions about who he was outside of university. What insurance did you have that he wasn't leading you to an abandoned lot to snap your throat and sell your organs off to the highest bidder?

He stopped walking so abruptly that you bumped into his back, immediately backing away in fear of angering him. But he said nothing, staring blankly at the sign above the building, the neon light of the word "ARCADE" turned off. A huge padlock rested heavily against doors that had once been painted into bright, colourful motifs that had faded into an unreadable mess over time.

"Tomura, it looks closed," you remarked slowly.

"That's because it is," he answered drily, pulling out what looked like a bent paper clip from one of his pockets, hands instinctively going for the lock. After a few seconds of fidgeting, you heard a distinctive click, and the lock fell to the ground with a sharp metallic sound.

He smirked at your obvious surprise, welcoming you in with a flourish on his hand:

"Come on in."

You followed him in with as much confidence as you could project, which was not much considering the probability of him murdering you in an abandoned building had just significantly gone up.

The arcade was much larger than it had seemed from the outside, and had clearly been marked by the passage of time. Though there was no light on or a single window, you could make out the shapes of turned-off gaming arcades placed haphazardly throughout the room, as if the owner hadn’t been sure where to put them. The walls were covered with wallpaper that had seen been days in the eighties, old water marks deforming the large flower pattern.

Suddenly, your foot caught into something, and you yelped in surprise as you felt yourself lose balance. A surprisingly strong hand caught your arm, steadying you back on your feet. You stared at Tomura with your eyes wide, heart skipping a beat when you realized he was still holding onto you.

"Thank you," you said gently, and he let go instantly, like the touch had burnt him.

"Be more careful," he mumbled under his breath, quickly putting his hands back into his pockets. "I can't always be there to save you if you're that clumsy."

Suddenly, somewhere in the darkness, a man's angry voice rang through the arcade:

"If you goddamn kids are trying to break in again, I swear to God-"

You froze in fear as a large figure emerged, dressed in a bright purple suit and holding what looks like a metal pipe in his hand. You screamed, paralyzed into place, but as soon as the man saw Tomura, he lowered the makeshift weapon, squinting as he adjusted the small round glasses on his nose.

"Oh, it's you," he said with disinterest. You tensed as he dropped the pipe to the floor to take a puff of his cigarette, the metallic sound confirming just how heavy the thing was. "The usual?"

"Yeah," Tomura confirmed, impatiently putting his arms on the admission counter. "Hurry it up."

The older man hummed, unperturbed, like he hadn't just almost killed you for breaking in. He walked to a larger machine in the corner of the room, and inputted a few numbers on the keypad. Suddenly, the lights turned on, their artificial glow blinding. Heavy wiring sounds echoed through the room as the arcades individually powered up, chirpy 8-bit music starting to pour out of various sound systems. The whole room had suddenly taken life, like an old beast waking up from a thousand-year slumber.

The man reached into one of his deep suit pockets, pulling out two dozen shiny silver tokens before slowly counting them, cigarette still tucked between his lips. He handed them to Tomura who immediately pocketed them, not throwing a single glance at the man in the suit. The man sighed, blowing another puff of smoke, before seemingly noticing you for the first time. His lips widened into a mellow smile, revealing a missing front tooth.

"Why, Shigaraki," he purred, running a hand through his short gray hair, "you've never brought company here before. Will you introduce me to the lovely lady ?"

"Keep it in your pants, Giran," Tomura grumbled, the warning clear in his tone. "Leave us alone."

The man sighed in disapproval: "Snappy today, aren’t we? Then again, when aren't you..."

Tomura went past him without a word, and you hesitantly followed, throwing an unsure look at the older man.

"Well, I'll be in the back if you need me, don’t forget to close up when you're done," he called out, picking up the metal pipe from where he had left it on the floor.

"Yeah, whatever," Tomura replied without looking back.

You followed him through the strange maze of glowing screens and bright cabinets as he moved forward with a clear goal in mind.

"So, um, who was that ?" you asked with uncertainty.

"Some guy I know," Tomura replied. "He owes me one, so he lets me play in here for free when the arcade is closed."

That answered absolutely none of your questions. If anything, it added more. Why would this shady-looking man in this barely still standing arcade let him roam around and do as he pleased, with nothing in exchange? What kind of weight did Tomura have in these backstreet alleyways?

"Oh... alright," you replied miserably, not wanting to press the subject harder.

"Stop thinking so hard, I can hear it all the way from here," he complained.

"Sorry," you almost whispered, feeling the embarrassment creeping in. Had you always been so easy to read, or was he just that good at seeing right through you?

"Whatever," he replied with disinterest, "look at this instead."

He had stopped in front of a peculiarly large machine, in a significantly better state than anything else in the arcade. The bright yellow of the cabinet, the familiar little tune that rang from the vintage loudspeakers unmistakable.

"No way," you gasped, in awe of the inconceivable treasure that stood in front of you, "that's an original 1991 Plus Ultra arcade cabinet..."

"With the original paint job and controllers," Tomura completed, absolutely glowing with pride.

You approached the cabinet slowly, admiring it like an ancient artifact from a museum. It might as well could be one: out of a hundred produced, only three were known to still be up and running around the entire globe. It was the stuff of legends, the kind of priceless gem most people would have to settle with only ever seeing in the confines of a laptop screen.

"That's so cool," you whispered, running your fingers over the worn-out buttons with reverence, feeling the age and wear of the machine. What was it even doing in this dump?

"You haven't seen shit yet," Tomura said with a mischievous grin. "Wanna take her for a spin?"

If you could have kissed him right then and there without making things more awkward between the two of you, you would have.

---

Unsurprisingly, Tomura was good at every game he touched: from shooting games to rhythm ones, it was like he understood the secret behind every machine, long fingers nimbly moving at the speed of light. He took great pride in every win, grinning smugly for each ass-kicking he handed you. And yet, you couldn't resent him for it; you were having the most fun you had in years.

It wasn’t just the games, either. It was him. It was the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration when he shot 2D zombies, the way he'd mock you for getting a low score at the racing simulator yet always took the time to show you how to ace all the difficult maneuvers, the way he made your heart bump increasingly against your chest every time his arm brushed yours. It was all maddening, and yet you would have exchanged it for nothing else.

"Ah, shit, it's already eight," he said, bringing you out of your reverie. You looked in the same direction as he did, surprised to find a working clock suspended on the dilapidated walls. How had time passed so fast? "We gotta go," he added.

You couldn't help but let the disappointment slip through your voice.

"Oh, alright..."

Tomura didn't answer, long legs already heading towards the exit. You followed him like a lost puppy, looking around for the man in the suit you had met earlier.

"Shouldn’t we thank the owner for letting us play ?" you asked.

Tomura looked at you with confusion, seemingly perplexed at the very concept.

"Why? I told you, he owes me."

Without another word, he walked out the door, leaving you alone in the derelict yet brightly lit arcade. You couldn't help but yell out a "Thank you!" towards nowhere in particular, hoping your words would reach the elusive man. When no one answered, you walked out to join Tomura, throwing one last look at the strange room before the door closed behind you.

"Took you long enough," Tomura mumbled, putting the forgotten padlock back into place and snapping it shut. Just like that, it was back to being an abandoned building like any other, none of the lights or sounds escaping through the thick doors. There was something nostalgic about it, as if the arcade existed somewhere outside of time and space.

"Thank you for today," you said genuinely, locking your eyes into his. He obviously hadn't expected your earnestness, his pale skin quickly turning red as pointedly stared at the floor. "I had a lot of fun."

"Whatever," he replied in a way that made it painfully clear it was not whatever, and that was quite pleased with himself. "We need to hurry up, we're already late."

Late?

"Late to what ?" you asked.

"Stop asking so many questions all the goddamn time. You'll see when we get there."

"You're just bitter because I kicked your ass on the last round."

"I went easy on you because you're not used to arcade controls. Don't let it get to your head."

You could add ‘sore loser’ to the list of things you knew about him, you thought with a smile.

Whatever awkwardness had been there earlier had completely vanished, and you felt at ease walking next to him and letting your fingers brush against his. Of course, the kiss hadn't fully left your mind, but you felt like you could breathe around him again, like he had brought you both back to the way things were before the dorm incident. Maybe a friendship wasn't exactly what you wanted, but if it was what he wanted, you could respect that.

"It's here," he said, interrupting your reverie.

Much like when he had brought you to the arcade, at first, you thought there had been a mistake. This time however, it wasn't because it looked like an abandoned warehouse.

It was because it was the exact opposite of an abandoned warehouse.

The building was positively lavish, decorated from top to bottom with delicate mouldings and golden ornaments. The red marquis at the door shone with bright, warm lights, the entryway surrounded by a perfectly cut hedge and vases filled to the brim with red roses.

It screamed of luxury, opulence, and most of all, money.

"Tomura,” you started uncertainly, feeling fidgety at the idea of even standing in a 10-mile radius of something so expensive, “I can't afford this."

"Me neither," he shrugged, seemingly totally unbothered by the situation, "but I'm not paying."

He walked in and you had no choice but to follow, feeling somehow more nervous than when you had both broken into a building barely a few hours earlier.

If the outside of the restaurant had seemed overly extravagant, the inside was unfortunately much worse. The walls were all covered with those abstract paintings that cost an arm and a leg; the floors seemed to be made out of real marble, the kind with delicate gray veins and a pearly shimmer; in the middle of the room stood a large chandelier, from which dangled hundreds and hundreds of tiny diamonds. It was out of a fairy tale.

"Reservation ?" the maitre d'hotel asked, cocking an uncertain eyebrow at your duo.

Embarrassment shot back up into you as you realized what you both looked like. You weren't wearing anything peculiarly provocative, per se, but you looked so out of place when put next to the sea of suits and sparkling dresses that you might as well have been wearing a full clown get-up.

"Shigaraki," Tomura said plainly, like he was annoyed the man would even ask him that question. You were surprised a security guard hadn't kicked you both out yet.

The man's eyes widened. He muttered a few words of apology before turning around and almost running into the backroom. From the oval windows on the doors, you could see him hurriedly grab another man by the shoulders and ask him something. After a few seconds of back and forth, the man came back out, looking slightly nauseous.

"Of course, my deepest apologies for the wait," he stammered with a deep bow before motioning you towards the dining room. "Please, follow me."

The table he brought you to had obviously been carefully selected. The glass wall it was next to gave a beautiful view of the outside street and the setting sun. It was close to the live musicians, without being too close, and a little further away from other diners, like it was its own little world. It was impossibly… romantic.

The maitre d'hote pulled your chair for you to sit; you felt like royalty, if royalty wore shoes that had been 60% on discount during last year's spring sale.

The man left with another curt bow, and you attempted to open your mouth to ask Shigaraki just what exactly was happening. But seemingly out of thin air, another well-dressed man appeared, holding a large bottle of wine.

"You should have told me we were going somewhere like this," you whispered as the waiter poured you two glasses from the bottle, which, upon closer inspection, looked to be worth about your entire college tuition. "I feel… underdressed."

And entirely out of place.

Tomura seemed unimpressed, shrugging in disinterest as his lithe fingers toyed with the perfectly folded mouchoir on his plate, effectively ruining its shape. "You look fine. Who cares what some random NPCs think?"

"Still, this is...", you hesitated, glancing at the seemingly unending parade of crystals from the chandelier on the ceiling. Was that an indoor water fountain in the middle of the room? "...A lot," you concluded.

"You don't like it," he flatly stated.

"No, that's not what I'm saying !" you hurriedly answered. "It’s gorgeous, it's just... I didn't expect this for a… first date?"

A moment of silence passed, crimson eyes observing you with an unreadable expression, before Tomura said:

"Who said anything about a date ?"

Your heart dropped.

You swallowed with difficulty, finding that all your saliva had mysteriously vanished from your mouth. "It’s... not?" you hesitantly asked.

"I mean, it's not like it isn’t, but it's not a date either," he explained vaguely, looking away from your face, "it's just us, going out somewhere. To do a thing. Like the arcade. There's no need to make it weird."

"Ok," you replied, trying to hide your disappointment and the bundle of conflicting emotions this night had built up in you. One thing at a time. "Well, I like this... thing. Even though that glass of wine probably costs more than my entire salary as your tutor," you commented with the most honest smile you could try to muster.

Thankfully, the playful, snarky expression was back on the man's face: "All the more reason for you to drink it, then."

There was something pompous yet bored in the way he drank, like he had been raised on some sort of wine etiquette and still unconsciously followed its rules. You sipped the wine politely, afraid of angering some sort of wine diety by not properly appreciating what was clearly a great vintage.

"So, what made you choose this place ?", you inquired. "It's not exactly the type of place I expected you to frequent a lot."

"I asked a friend," he replied with little interest. "He said girls like that type of shit.” He licked a few drops of his lips, and you couldn't help but immediately remember the feel of them against yours in your bedroom.

Focus, you scolded yourself.

“Was it the guy from the bar? Dabi?" you asked, remembering the encounter with the ominous-looking man.

"Hell no, I wouldn't ask that guy for advice if my life depended on it," he scoffed. "He's some guy I know online. We play League together sometimes. He's alright."

"So, you asked a random guy online where to take girls on... things that aren't dates ?" You raised an eyebrow, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"Stop saying it like that, and no, Spinner isn’t some random guy, I know him," he clarified defensively.

You couldn't help but let out a laugh: "His name is Spinner ?"

"His gaming handle is Spinner, just-" he interrupted himself, lips thinning into an accusatory pout. "You're doing this on purpose, aren’t you."

"Yeah, kind of," you admitted.

His lips stretched into a small smile, like he couldn't make himself stay mad at you for more than a few seconds.

“I can play that game too,” he replied with a half a grin.

Before you could say anything, a hand made its way to your thigh, and your leg bumped against the table in surprise. His palm was cold, refreshing against your skin which felt like it was warming up by the second. You barely managed to suppress a squeal when he squeezed his fingers into your flesh.

"Tomura..." you whispered, a mix of desire and apprehension in your voice.

The look on his face had gotten more smug, his eyes dark, cleared emboldened by your reaction.

“Relax, you're moving around too much. They'll notice,” he admonished you in a falsely sweet tone. His hand went up a few inches higher, sliding closer towards the inside of your thighs.

The chatter and music inside the restaurant had turned to pure white noise. His nails dug gently but firmly into your skin, his long fingers massaging the meat of your thigh. It was like you were back with him in your dorm room, your body burning like wildfire with the way he seemed to revere touching you. Time stood still for a moment, and you let yourself drunkenly sink into the feeling.

A foreign voice broke you out of your stupor and of the moment you were sharing, alarm bells going off in your head at the idea that someone had noticed you both. Tomura very reluctantly moved his hand away from its dangerous position, staring daggers at the intruder.

“Sir, Madam, would you like me to introduce tonight's menu?” the unsuspecting waiter asked, totally obvious as to what he had just interrupted.

“No,” Tomura replied, cold as ice. The waiter's eyes widened slightly; was it out of surprise, or fear? “Can't you see we're busy?”

“Of course, of course,” the waiter apologized hurriedly, taking a step back, and now, you knew for sure the man was scared. His body was rigid, holding onto the printed menus for dear life. You could fully understand someone being nervous when faced with a disgruntled Tomura, especially if they didn't know him, but this was something else. The man was scared shitless.

“My most sincere apologies. I-I would never have interrupted if I had known- Please do tell your father that-”

“Leave.”

You knew that tone. It was the one he had used when talking to Dabi the day you had met him. It was like the growl of an animal warning its prey of the incoming attack, giving it one last chance to run before it would pounce.

The waiter swallowed with difficulty, his terrified gaze stuck on the floor, and after muttering something that sounded like five different apologies strung together, he left the table so fast he might as well have vanished out of thin air.

The tension could be cut with a knife. Tomura's pale brows were furrowed in displeasure, the hand that had so fervently caressed you now wrapped around his neck. He scratched at his skin, rough and unforgiving, and you noticed you hadn't seen him bruise himself that way in quite a while, now.

You cleared your throat.

“So, your father-”

“Don't.”

His lips had thinned into a line, his crimson gaze lost somewhere beyond the window you sat next to. The scratching continued, practiced and mechanical, and you could see his pale skin turning an angry red under the pressure of his nails.

“Tomura…” you sighed. “I'm just trying to get to know you. I don't understand what you want from me.”

His eyes flickered back to you.

“One minute I'm kissing you,” you explained, “and you're kissing me back, but then you don't answer my messages for a week. And then you bring me to the arcade, and to the fanciest fucking restaurant I've ever been to, but you won't say it's a date, and when I ask anything to know you more you shut me down!”

You hadn't realized you had raised your voice before you finished your rant. You realized with embarrassment the two tables closest to you had paused their conversation to look at you. You could have dug a hole into the ground to bury yourself if you could. Why did you always end up feeling that way around him?

Tomura stayed silent.

Now, you were starting to get a bit more than frustrated. His eyes were fixated on your face, like he was trying to gauge something, but he still said nothing. You had poured, shouted your feelings out, and they had fallen on deaf ears.

Before you could gather the shreds of dignity you had left to get up and leave, Tomura finally spoke, voice raspy and deep.

“You want to know me?”

You could have thrown your hands in the air in exasperation.

“Yeah, I thought I made that pretty obvious,” you replied drily.

“Fine, then,” he said, leaning forward. “See the water fountain in the corner?”

You turned your head to face the direction he was looking towards, easily spotting the imposing water feature.

“There's some restrooms right behind that. The men's are fine, but the women's are better. Cleaner. More space.”

You wanted to ask how he knew that the women's bathroom was better than the men's, but you had more pressing questions.

“I don't get where you're going with this.”

He grabbed his glass of wine, finishing what little liquid had been left before shrugging, the hint of a smile dancing on his lips.

“Haven't seen anyone walk in there since we got here. I think it's empty.”

Why would it matter if the bathroom was-

Oh.

Oh.

"Tomura, we can’t," you protested immediately, thoughts in your mind racing.

"You do what you want," he replied dismissively as he got up, his eyes never looking away from yours. Why was his stare always so intense, so enticing? "I'm heading over there. You can decide if you want to come or not."

Without leaving you time to say another word, or even formulate another thought, he was walking away, disappearing out of sight behind the fountain.

You couldn't tell if you were mad, confused, frustrated, or horny.

Tomura Shigaraki was a roller-coaster, and you didn't know how to get off it.

He was so profoundly different from anyone you had met, let alone romanced before. He was unpredictable, his mood swings constantly keeping you on your toes, but there was undeniably something you liked about that. About how unapologetic he was to be himself.

But you? You had spent your entire life building a fortress of perfection to hide behind. You got As on every assignment you were given. You finished on top of your class, in every class. You graduated with honours and three scholarships to boot. But was that you, or the person you wanted everyone to believe you were? When was the last time you did something stupid, for the hell of it? When had you been to an arcade with a friend and fooled around for hours without worrying about anyone else's thoughts?

You glanced back at the bathroom at the far end of the restaurant; no sign of Tomura. You knew he wasn't coming back.

You looked at your table, staring at your half-empty glass of wine, the liquid the same colour as his eyes. He was brash, and impulsive, and never let you catch a break. You thought back to Ms Kayama's words, back at your dorm. Everything about him screamed ‘bad idea’.

The choice became clear.

You chugged the remains of your glass, and, lightheaded but not hesitant anymore, you made your way to the bathroom.

—-

It took a grand total of three steps inside the women's restrooms before you were unceremoniously whisked away into one of the stalls, two hands crashing on the wall on both sides of your face.

"Knew it," he smirked wickedly, "you're a pervert like me."

For as much as he made himself look unbothered, you could see clear relief in his features. He was scared you wouldn't follow him.

"It's not like you gave me many options,” complained mockingly, his crooked smile contagious. “What was I gonna do, get up and pay the wine myself? I would be in debt for the next forty years."

"You always talk too fucking much. You need to learn to shut up.”

Dry yet increasingly familiar lips crashing into yours, closing the gap between your bodies. He was already a much better kisser than he had been a week prior: he was making full use of his tongue and teeth, tasting every inch of your mouth and possessively biting on your lips. You responded in favour, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer. The ends of his hair tickled your fingers, soft and curly. When you pulled away to catch your breath, his pupils were blown wide, a drop of saliva making its way down his chin.

Beautiful, your brain supplied. The word you're looking for is beautiful.

"Can I…" he hesitantly started, and he was back to being the lost little boy who ran away from your room without a word, like he fully expected you to reject him. How could one man go so fast from self-confident and controlling to awkward and unsure?

"Tomura," you said, pressing yourself ever closer to him. His eyes darted to your cleavage pushing against his chest, and right back up, as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to stare. The temperature in the room had gotten so warm it was dizzying, but you wanted to be closer, always closer. "I would not be in a restaurant bathroom stall if I didn’t like you.”

He swallowed with difficulty, one hand hesitantly gliding down your shoulder and stopping at your collarbone.

"I'm not going to warn you again, alright?" he muttered. "You can't just back out after this."

You grabbed his arm, firmly laying his hand on one of your breasts, before kissing him deeply. He let out a small sound of surprise, frozen in place. Then, it was as if he had awakened all at once, his fingers grabbing all they could hold onto. You moaned encouragingly in his mouth as the digits got rougher, possessively latching onto the supple flesh with the desperation of a starved man. When you pulled away for air, his grip on your chest did not lessen, instead being joined by his other hand. You muffled out a moan as he sharply massaged your breasts, the slight pain of his forcefulness unbelievably intoxicating.

"Fuck, your tits are so soft. I could shove my face in there," he rasped out. He was drunk off the feeling, off his own words, and you couldn't blame him, because you weren't faring much better. “No wonder that fucking waiter couldn't stop staring at them."

He pinched your nipples with the tip of his fingers, and you moaned. He looked positively delighted by your reaction.

"The waiter wasn’t staring," you protested weakly.

"Of course he was," he dismissed, twisting your hardened buds again to watch you squirm under him, "but it's too bad for him. I'm the one who gets to touch you today."

He pulled off your top so fast you wondered if he had ripped it. Nimble fingers took off your bra in a single try, and if you hadn't known better you could have believed he had had practice with this. You thought back to your afternoon at the arcade, how agile he was with his hands. How good they would feel grabbing your body instead of a controller…

Tomura watched the jiggle of your freed breasts with so much intensity and reverence you covered them with unexpected shyness, feeling your cheeks redden.

He frowned, grabbing both your wrists.

“Don't fucking do that.”

You let him guide your hands back around his neck as he bends down, and without warning, he wrapped his mouth around one of your tits.

"How are you so warm…" he mumbled against your skin, more to himself than you.

Through the thick fabric of his sweatpants, you could feel his erection rubbing against your leg. He was as hard as a rock, rutting more and more rapidly, and you wondered if he would cum untouched. While there was certainly something very flattering about that idea, that wasn't the way you wanted your first time to go with him. You wanted to show him you cared. You wanted to show him just how much you wanted him.

You pushed him gently, and he looked at you with dazed confusion, and a little annoyance, like an animal whose bowl of food had been taken away.

You gave him a small kiss on the top of his head to appease him before bending down and falling to your knees. You gently pushed his pants down, exposing boxers with a large stain of precum, the outline of his dick pressing against the material with desperation.

"Hey, wait, what are you..."

"Shh," you smiled up at him, "you talk too much."

If the restaurant patrons hadn't heard your hushed and whispered moans, there was absolutely no way they hadn't heard the ungodly sound that came out of Tomura's mouth when you wrapped your mouth around his length.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck-"

The taste wasn't as bad as you would have expected for someone who changed clothing as little as he did. The smell of musk and sweat wasn't pleasing, and neither was the lemon-scented cleaning product they seemed to have scrubbed the entire bathroom floor with, but god, was it worth it for that face. The skin down to his collarbone was bright red, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull, his lips opened into the first syllable of a curse he couldn't manage to push out.

His thighs started shaking uncontrollably, and even if you were certain this was the first time someone touched him this way, you couldn't help but feel some sort of pride at the idea of unravelling him so quickly. Unintelligible strings of words were the only thing that escaped his lips between raspy breaths, and he let out a deep groan when you licked across the thick vein on the side of his cock.

"H-how many times have you done that before, shit-"

You could already taste fresh precum on your tongue, and you doubled your efforts, determined to make him see stars.

"I'm gonna cum," he barely panted out, grabbing the back of your head savagely, "don't you dare fucking move away."

He was in too deep, the rapid movement of his hips making you gag, but before you could pull away he came, the warm liquid filling your mouth. You coughed, ready to spit it out, but he put his hand on your mouth, his eyes glowing under the fluorescent light of the bathroom stall.

"Swallow" he simply said.

He watched the movement of your throat with utter fascination as you obeyed him, the salty taste burning. He was already getting hard again, the idea of holding so much power over you clearly arousing.

He fell to his knees and kissed you deep, his hands back all over your skin, flickering his tongue against yours as if chasing the taste of his cum in your mouth. Maybe he was right calling himself a pervert. But then, you were also one for liking it.

“Can we… do that again?” he mumbled after a few minutes against your lips, voice strained. Strands of white hair had stuck to the sweat on his forehead, and you pushed them gently to the side. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to stay here forever.

But as the fog of sex dissipated from your mind, you were starting to remember where exactly ‘here’ was.

And exactly how loud you had just both been.

"Tomura…" you swallowed with difficulty, putting a hand on his chest to put some distance between the two of you, "there’s absolutely no way the entire restaurant didn't just hear that. We're in huge trouble. They're going to kick us out as soon as we step out of here."

Oh, God, forget kick you out, what if they were calling the police? Could you get arrested for having sex in a restaurant bathroom? Surely a place like this one had connections all over the city, hell, all over the country! What if they kicked you out of school? What if-

"They can't kick us out if we're gone" Tomura interrupted your rapidly derailing train of thought with a smirk.

"What?", you replied, stunned.

Wordlessly, he pushed the bathroom stall open and headed towards the furthest wall, bare except for a few ornate mirrors and one small window. In one surprisingly agile jump, he grabbed the ledge of the window, pulling it open enough for his body to slide through. He looked back at you from outside, a smug expression on his face.

"We can't just leave without paying for the wine !" you hissed, looking behind you in fear someone had heard the sound of his acrobatics and opened the bathroom door. But there was no one.

"Let them worry about that," he shrugged, "the reservation isn't under my name anyway. At least, not exactly."

"But-" you protested.

"Trust me."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. And deep inside your heart, no matter all the warning flags and unanswered questions, the abandoned arcades and fancy restaurant bathrooms, you knew it was true.

You took his hand.

[nandabell]

Been wanting to read a really good neji fic with romance! And also, tomura, gyutaro! Any recommendations?

[sophsiaaa]

closet

ONESHOT

pairing: tomura shigaraki x fem reader

summary: “Just one party,” they said, “It’ll be fun.” Fun was what now had you standing in the dark, barely three feet of room between you and Tenko Shimura, the guy you hated most.

or Tenko and reader get roped into playing seven minutes in heaven and have hate sex.

notes: College AU. Just an old ao3 oneshot I wrote that I'm crossposting here.

chapter contains: explicit smut

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

You weren’t one for playing these types of games – locked in a closet with a boy you didn’t know or didn’t like, forced to awkwardly swap spit while the real party carried on beyond the closed-door. Seven Minutes in Heaven was an overrated game anyway. Stupid. Childish. Nobody actually played it. 

Or so you thought.  

The party was pretty big. Happened at the end of every semester. Some off-campus thing at one student or another’s house. Most students at the college knew about it since a few members of the recreation club went advertising at orientation, handing out flyers that listed parties and pub crawls throughout the semester, including this one.  

You’d never been before, despite being in your second year. Parties, especially ones that left STDs and ODs in their wake, typically weren’t your thing. Sure, you liked to socialise and let loose every now and then, but the recreation club had a reputation, and you didn’t need to get mixed up in their shit when you had exams crammed down your throat. 

And yet, it was the end of semester, exams were done, and your friends had talked you into it for the night. The house was alive with people, drinkings sloshing over red cups and clinking in bottles, music punding through the walls, dark lights washing everything in red. It was nice. Or at least, it had started out that way.

“Just one party,” your friends said, “It’ll be fun.”  

Fun was what now had you standing in the dark, barely three feet of room between you and Tenko Shimura, the guy you hated most.  

—

Tenko had no idea why he’d agreed to come to this stupid party.  

Spinner, the idiot , had talked him into it. He’d claimed they needed to get out and meet more people.  

“No offence Tenko,” he said on game last night, “but I figured I’d have more than one friend by the time I was in second year.”  

Tenko scoffed. “As if I care. What, you think you’ll find friends at some idiot’s house party?"  

Silence stretched between them over the headset, punctuated only by shots from enemy players, before Spinner said, “Your girlfriend’s going.”  

It took him a minute to figure out who he was talking about before Tenko shouted down the mic, “She’s not my fucking girlfriend!”  

Spinner’s laughter followed by friendly fire was how Tenko remembered that conversation ending, but at some point, he guessed he’d agreed to go to the party. It had started with him in a foul mood, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans, hoodie up and antisocial despite the clearly loose mood. But slowly, the ordeal improved. Spinner found them some drinks and they mostly ended up talking to some other comp sci majors and a few engineering students about games. He oddly found that he didn’t hate making friends, especially when his blood was burning with the kick of alcohol.  

That was until he wound up in a big circle with a bunch of strangers. He could’ve just left. Got up and gone home. But the drinks made everything a bit blurred and just sitting down as the world spun around him felt too nice. Spinner was still with him, he was sure, saying something about girls, when Tenko noticed you sit down in the circle too.  

Your friend dragged you down beside her and kept your arm looped through hers. You looked a little too sober – no flush to your cheeks, no messy hair. He hated that about you. Hated your uptight posture, your perfect grades, and too-good-for-him attitude.  

He’d met you last year in a shared class – some core unit for all first years. You were paired together for an assignment and at first glance he knew he hated you. You, with your put together outfits and made-up face, always looking at him like his ragged clothes and ugly scars weren’t good enough. You, who constantly texted about the assignment, dragging him out of bed so you could complain about his ideas.  

And Tenko knew you hated him too. Hated the way he spoke to you like you were nothing but a nagging bitch, hated how he could keep up with you when it came to academics. He was sure you hated him for tanking the assignment on purpose, just because he wanted to piss you off. Ever since that first semester, you’d shot him every dirty look, whispered every obscenity when he passed you, even once cutting the line in front of him at the college café, turning back with a self-satisfied smile.  

He hated you. 

So, when your narrowed eyes met his across the circle, he sat up a little straighter and shot you the most arrogant, bitter smirk he could muster. This was gonna be good.  

“Okay!” A blonde girl at the center of the circle clapped her hands together and the talking died down. “The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven. I spin this bottle twice-” She held up an empty glass beer bottle, giving it a twirl as she placed it beneath her foot. “-and the two people it lands on go into that locked closet to do whatever they want.”  

The circle erupted into a chorus of noise. Some drunken cheers, other groans. A few people got up and left and a few came to sit down.  

“Kissing?” another girl asked.  

“Or whatever.” The blonde grinned wickedly.  

“Hurry up and start already,” said a guy with what looked to be burns and piercings.  

“Like he’s getting any,” Tenko whispered to Spinner.  

“Like we are,” Spinner said back. His cheeks were a little pink, and he looked like he’d just walked out of a washing machine, queasy and bracing the floor.  

Tenko barked a laugh. “Shit, you’re actually nervous about this dumb game?”  

“Aren’t you?”  

He shrugged. “Not like it matters.”  

The blonde girl bent over and spun the bottle. Round and round, it went. A dizzy glass pointer, ready to snatch good students and turn them into closet-fucked social pariahs.

It landed on you.  

Tenko’s face lit up with genuine happiness. His grin was sharp, malicious. Your face paled, leaving you with a sickly look that he was sure meant you were regretting being sober right about now. It was too good. He couldn’t fucking believe it. A girl like you getting fucked in a closet, brought low to the level of those she looked down on.

He was too engrossed in his sick glee to even notice when the bottle spun again and landed squarely on him. 

—

The circle erupted into a circus oooo’s and giggles all around as the guy you hated most was made the glass bottle’s second victim. Tenko didn’t even seem to realise until his friend – Spinner, you thought his name was – elbowed him in the ribs. His carmine eyes darted to the center, then, wide as bottomless pools, up to you. You swore his adams apple bobbed.  

Everything from there moved too quickly. Your friend had to literally drag you from your seat. You weren’t sure who, or even if Tenko was dragged. But seconds later you were locked in together.  

The closet was dark, night-black save the small yellow light seeping in through the bottom crack of the door. As your eyes adjusted, you realised it had been emptied of whatever it used to store and was now three-square feet of carpet and bare walls.  

You were pressed against the door. Tenko leaned on the wall across from you, almost stiff with his hands shoved into his pockets. He refused to meet your gaze. 

The still silence pulled taut between you, rife with months of hate and resentment.  

“Why are you here?” you eventually asked.  

Tenko stared at the floor, black hair falling into his face. “Why the hell do you care?”  

“Because I didn’t take you for the friendly type.”  

He raised a brow and took you in – short dress, pushed-up cleavage, exposed clavicle. “Ha, I didn’t take you for the slutty type.”  

Your eyes became daggers, onces you wished to poke him with, though you doubted he could see them in this dark. He was so frustrating. Such a fucking asshole. And for no reason. You’d never done anything to him. Were always nice during your assignment. He was just a sour, bitter man.  

“You’re such an asshole,” you breathed, turning around to jiggle the handle. “Fuck. Locked in.”  

“Yeah, they said that.” 

Deep breaths. You reeled around at him, stepping forward. “Then what do you suggest, hmm? That we just sit here?”  

“It’s only seven minutes.” Tenko shrugged and you noticed the way his black hoodie barely moved. You swore it used to be baggier. 

“Yeah, but-” 

“What? Can’t keep your hands off me for seven minutes?” His face slipped into a sly grin, the jagged scar stretching over his lips.  

You wanted to yank his lips off. You wanted to punch him.  

You gave him a coy smile instead, folding your hands behind your back and leaning against the door again. “More concerned about how painful your blue balls will be by the time the seven minutes are up.”  

“You wish." He sneered at you. That was the look you were used to. "As if I’d want to fuck you.”  

“Aw, you’re nervous.” 

“Fuck you!” 

“So, you do wanna fuck me then?” You sighed condescendingly, unable to stop the built-up anger from spewing out. “I always knew it. A pathetic loser like you, that’s probably why you failed our assignment. Too caught up in virgin-daydreams about a girl actually touching you.”  

Tenko’s jaw literally dropped. His fingers bunched into fists in his pockets, and he stared slack at you, pupils shrunk in the red of his iris. Finally, you’d made him speechless. And it felt fucking good. 

Though not for long. He stepped forward, hands withdrawn from his pockets. There was no where to go but further against the door as he came right up into your face. Those angry red eyes bore into yours, nose an inch away as he stood over you. This close, you could count the lines of scars around his eyes. Your heart was beating out of your chest. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he finally said and there was a chuckle in his rocksalt-rasp voice that made your stomach drop. “I do want to fuck you. And since you keep talking about it, I'll give it to you.”  

Tenko pressed his lips to yours in a mockery of a kiss.  

Your back went flush against the door as his face bullied you against it. His lips cut a rough kiss, sharp with chapping. A broad hand found your sternum, holding you in place and you gasped. That was enough for him to push his tongue in too. It sent an unwelcome thrill up your spine, the wetness, the cloying taste and smell of drinks that clung to the walls of his mouth. Your teeth clinked together as he worked a brutal rhythm, licking into your mouth like he truly never had kissed a girl before, almost trying to swallow you whole.  

You bit his tongue and a metallic taste quickly flooded everything. Tenko pulled back, dots of slick blood coating his lips. He looked like he might truly kill you. Then, he laughed.  

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You wiped the back of your hand over your mouth, spitting the blood onto the carpet.  

“Me? You kept saying I wanted to fuck you.” He wiped his sleeve. “Just giving you want you want – to be right.”  

“You’re fucking disgusting.”  

“Yeah?” He tipped his head, gaze now alight with something you didn’t want to put a name to. “That why I felt you shiver? You fucking liked it.” 

You pressed your lips together in silent fury. Your head was pounding. Your body was pounding. He... he... 

“Oh my god, you fucking did.” He huffed out a laugh. “Who would have thought, this whole time-” 

You shut him up with a hard shove to the chest. Tenko grunted as his back it the wall. “Shut up! I didn’t like it. You’re a terrible kisser.”  

He rolled his eyes. “Like you could do better.”  

“You don’t think I could?” 

“I know you couldn’t.”  

For a moment the two of you glared into each other's souls, bodies pulsing with hot anger. Your fingers tightened in the fabric of his hoodie. You smiled softly up at him. “Really?” you whispered as you inched closer. You hovered your soft lips above his. “You sure about that?”  

“Yeah...” His breathing hitched.

You hummed low in your throat, and caught up in the moment, lost of all reason, pressed your lips to his. This time, the kiss was soft. His lashes fluttered shut, and you caught the low whine that escaped his throat when you worked his mouth open, tongue gently melding with his. Tenko’s hands tentatively found your hips, which surprised you. Everything about this surprised you, but the more you kissed him, the more you felt like you didn’t want to stop.  

He gripped your hips a little tighter, drawing your body taut against his. Against your thigh, you felt his arousal, and it shocked you enough into drawing back, ready with an sarcastic retort. But Tenko seemed done with fighting. He flipped you around, baring down on you as he buried his face in the juncture of your neck, sucking marks into your skin.  

You gasped and panted beneath him, Unsure of what to do. Unsure of what you wanted to do. And when he pressed a thigh between your legs, you stopped thinking. “Fuck .” 

Tenko smirked against your skin. “Oh, you like that?”  

He rolled his thigh again, and this time yours clenched around it on instinct.  

“Stop that...”  

“Why? You clearly like it.” 

He did it again and again, steadily building a jerky rhythm that brushed your clothed clit each time. You rode against his thigh unconsciously as he laid kisses against the column of your throat. His hands clumsily found your breasts, groping with the eagerness of a man who’d never been this close to a woman before. He panted against your skin. “Fuck, these feel nice. Let me see.”  

“What?” you managed to get out through your haze.

You looked down and wished you hadn’t. Tenko’s pupils were so wide that black engulfed all red. His cheeks were flushed in the dark, scars etched out in pale lines across his sharp-featured face. He looked sinfully good, and his filthy mouth made him even better.  

“Let me see your pretty tits,” he said, pulling at the hem of your dress.  

He got it down in one swipe, your breasts spilling out from the fabric. You wished you’d worn a bra.  

His eyes shot down, followed by his mouth. He pressed the flat of his bloody tongue against a nipple, licking up to your collarbone like a truly desperate un-fucked man. His head bobbed back down and he sucked a nipple into his mouth, fingers latching onto the other hastily. Your head fell back so hard it hit the wall and left your whole body throbbing.  

“Tenko, we shouldn’t...”  

He groaned then, actually groaned with your tit in his mouth and pulled off with a pop, wet saliva hardening the nipple in the cold air. “Say my name again,” he said, both hands kneading your breasts as he kissed you hard. “Tell me you feel good. Say it.” 

It hit you then, just how lust-clouded he was. How addicted he seemed to you not only liking this but liking that he was doing it. You hated him, and he hated you, and yet right now you wanted nothing more than to give him that satisfaction.  

“I do like it.” You turned your face away, shame mingling with want. “I like it when you touch me.” 

Tenko looked at you like you’d just given him the moon, pressing his face into your shoulder again as he caught his breath and kept on with your breasts. You canted your hips forward, seeking the friction of his hardness pressed against you and he gasped, grinding his cock against you in little ruts. 

You decided that hating him could wait till tomorrow.   

“Touch me, Tenko,” you whispered, taking his hand and guiding it between your legs.  

He let you eagerly, pushing his long, spidery fingers beneath the fabric of your underwear and into the slickness of your folds.  

“You’re wet,” he said, sliding his fingers through them, catching on your clit with every torturous stroke. “Fuck, you’re actually wet.”  

He lowered himself to his knees, but you caught his sleeve, pulling him back up.  

“No time. Let’s just...”  

He didn’t need to be told twice. He stood up and crowded you against the wall as he scrambled to unbutton his pants. You fingers met his and you helped each down his jeans, the waistband of his boxers, until his cock bobbed free. It was strained with need, long and weeping at the tip as you pumped it gently for him. His shoulders caved and he shuddered at your touch, blushing with each squeeze and stroke of your hand. 

"You're good at this," he said fucking into your hand and shutting his eyes, lost in the pleasure. "Feels so much better than-"

"Your own hand?" You ran your thumb over the slit and nipped his neck. 

"Shut up." 

"Make me."

"Oh, I fucking will." Tenko bared his teeth in a near-feral grin as he pushed your underwear aside. He slid his cock through the wetness of your cunt in a way that had you both sucking in breath. "Gonna break you." 

You hiked a leg up and around his hip drawing him close. “Then fucking do it."  

With that, Tenko pushed the head inside. He barreled over, the squeeze and tug you had on him left him looking dazed. He rested his forehead against yours, shaking as you clenched around his sensitive tip.  

“You’re so fucking tight... shit...” Through gasps he pushed all the way in. It stung, the stretch of him bullying his way inside, and you bit your lip to keep from moaning. When he bottomed out, he stilled, and you could feel his cock twitching inside you. “Fuck you feel so good,” he panted. “So warm. So perfect.”  

You tightened your leg around his hip, pressing your heel into the base of his spine. “Move.” 

He pulled back slowly, watching the way you gripped him as he slid out. Truly, you'd never seen a man more pussy-drunk than this. The thought that you'd done this to him, a man you hated so much, had lightning-pride shooting through you. Tenko slowly pushed back in, deeper than the first time. He fucked himself into you, each rut of his hips dragging his pubic bone against your clit. Your back dug into the wall he pinned you to, but you didn’t even care. He was panting into your mouth, eyes lidded with want. He was yours, in this closet, willing to do whatever you asked. 

“Have you ever... thought about doing this before?” you asked through his shallow thrusts. 

Tenko grunted, the sudden smack of his hips giving him away more than his fucked-out smile. “Have you?”  

You couldn’t help your own grin. “I asked first.” 

“Yes." His tongue met yours in a sloppy kiss as his thrusts grew erratic. He wouldn’t last long. He groaned into your mouth. “Wanted to bend you over a desk and... hah... fuck the attitude out of you ages ago.”  

You moaned, clenching tighter around him, and he pressed a hand across your mouth to keep you quiet. "Shh, don't want everyone knowing how bad you like this, do you?"

“Fuck you,” you spat, words muffled as he pressed his middle and index fingers into your mouth. You bit down on the fingers, tongue sucking around them as your teeth left indents in his pale skin.  

Tenko huffed a laugh and his hips stuttered. His hand snaked between you, rubbing messily at your clit. He wasn’t precise at all, but the friction was enough. Your tits bounced as he pressed deeper into you, your body growing taut as you approached the edge. "I'm so close. Wanna come inside. You want that?"

You tried to shake you head, but every time he fucked deeper into you, your eyes rolled back and you couldn't protest. This all felt too good. The forbiddeness of fucking someone you hate, the possibility of someone walking in, the soft pap of his balls slapping against your ass as his legs quivered beneath him. 

“You’re gonna come,” Tenko said. “Shit, I can feel it. Go on. Want to feel you come. Fucking do it.”  

And you did. He swallowed up your cry with a harsh kiss as your body throbbed with pleasure. The orgasm crashed into you like a fucking train, and Tenko wasn’t far behind.  

“Shit... Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Three deep thrusts and he was spilling himself into you with a whimper. His cum shot out in warm, thick ropes, coating your insides as his face fell into your shoulder. 

He rested on you, in you, like that for what felt like a while, his release seeping out between you in trails down your thighs. Eventually he pulled out, tucking his soft cock away. You pulled your dress back into place, underwear catching the arousal leaking between your legs. Tenko, to your surprise, turned back to you, wiping the insides of your thighs with the inside of his hoodie sleeve. It was oddly sweet, if a little gross.

But when he pulled away, awkwardness clung to the both of you like a rain-soaked blanket. You both stood in the darkness catching your breaths. You'd crossed a line tonight that could never be uncrossed. You both hated each other. You’d both fucked each other in a dark closet. What now- 

“Sorry guys!” The door swung open, and you froze up, turning to see the blonde from earlier in the doorway. “Should have let you out ten minutes ago, but the cops turned up, so party’s over.” 

Ten minutes? Had it really been that long? Shit.  

She left and you and Tenko were left alone. You awkwardly stepped out of the closet, blinking in the light. Your friends were gone, as were most people. It was probably best if you two just went your separate ways and pretended this never happened-

Tenko grabbed your hand and shoved the other in his pocket. “Let's go,” was all he said as he held your hand and led you from the house. "I'm taking you to my dorm tonight."

And though you could’ve argued, pushed him away, gone back to hating him and gone home, you let him. 

[radiocarbonfanfics]

Day 4; Mommy kink || Shigaraki Tomura/F!Reader

(lowkey not proud of this bc its not proof-read and it was rushed)

(Explicit of course)

[melwritesalot]

Hello!

Main blog: @meeludrawz This blog is for all my A03 updates!

>My A03<

Current fics:

(No title yet) - Shigaraki Tomura x Reader (My Hero Academia)

Unexpected Attraction - Sun & Moon x Reader (Five Nights At Freddy's)

Other projects I'd like to work on:

- Dabi x Reader fic (MHA) - Parenthood Sequel for Shigaraki x Reader - Parenthood Sequel for Sun&Moon x Reader

[d1s1ntegrated]

the first (slightly short) chapter of my shigarakixreader fic is up on ao3!!

chapter 2 will be up soon :3

go give it a lil bookmark if u want!

[ciinnaroll]

p𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 p𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧.

𓈀⋅ 🕹𓄹𓂃

Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader ♡

Chapter 1 - 12 out & publishedpublished!

𓈀⋅ 🕹𓄹𓂃

°`• Ao3 ; https://archiveofourown.org/works/56010304/chapters/142250962

°`• Wattpad ; https://www.wattpad.com/story/340020552?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=ciinnarolling

《 " An intoxicating sense of tranquility. " 》

Her "good deed" of the day. An excuse to pity him, that's all it ever was in Tomura's eyes.

A slow, tiresome routine constant in his life, Shigaraki finds himself staggering down twisted alleys and narrow buildings, chasing. Whether it be for petty reasons or deeper meanings, he's eager to find out.

‐ Started;; 04/30/24

- Status;; Ongoing .

- Updates;; Slow .

Warnings ;; eventual smut, violence, swearing, gore, etc.

Please, be warned ! Each chapter has an explicit warning for any sensitive topics, you will be notified at the beginning, if said chapter could be possibly triggering. Be safe and have fun reading ! :))

[elvenxwarrior]

My Hero Academia Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Please check out my guidelines!

You can also find these posted on my AO3!

ALL CHARACTERS ARE SET 6-10 YEARS IN THE FUTURE OR IN A COLLEGE AU. MINORS DNI! 18+ FOR SOME FICS.

Izuku Midoriya

Headcanons

Sunflowers | Hanahaki

Home Is Where The Heart Is | Fluff

Bakugo Katsuki

Headcanons

The Sound Of Silence [Part 1] | Fluff

The Sound Of Silence [Part 2] | Fluff

My Hero | Angst to Fluff

Boyfriend Material | Fluff

Shoto Todoroki

Headcanons

A Piece of Heaven | Fluff

Eijiro Kirishima

Headcanons

Game On | Fluff

Tamaki Amajiki

Headcanons

Panic | Angst to Fluff

Drunk | Fluff

Tomura Shigaraki

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

New Game | Fluff

White Roses | Hanahaki

Shota Aizawa

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Intimacy | Fluffy Smut

The Club | Fluff to Spice

Hizashi Yamada

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Present & Future | Platonic / Family

Hot 'n Heavy | Smut

[multixsposts]

꧁𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝘄𝗼 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗼꧂

𝗍һіs іs ᥲ 𝖿ᥱmᥲᥣᥱrᥱᥲძᥱr᥊ᑲᥲkᥙg᥆ᥙ 𝖿ᥲᥒ𝖿іᥴ.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝑡𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒ℎ𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒．

“𝒕𝒔𝒌..𝒊 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒔“ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟． 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 the 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑝𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 ，𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑙 𝑙𝑜𝑏𝑏𝑦

“𝐡𝐞𝐲! 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’ 𝐲𝐚!“ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑗𝑜𝑔𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢． 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑧𝑖 𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑝

𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑠 𝑖𝑛．𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢．ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑟𝑢𝑑𝑒．

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑚

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑦𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚． 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠，𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑥𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠，𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑚． 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝑠

“𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐧𝐨.“ ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑎𝑛𝑑 irritated．𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑤𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑝 𝑖𝑛 y𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔．

“𝐭𝐬𝐤.“ ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑝 𝑠𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠．

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑑．

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜．

𝐺𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑍𝑒𝑟𝑜．

𝑊𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢．

𝐴 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝐴 𝑁 𝑌 𝑝𝑟𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠．𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙．

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧’ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦?.“ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑒．

“𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒘𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐.“ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑡，𝑖𝑡 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡���

“𝐇𝐀𝐇?!“ ℎ𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑𝑙𝑦，ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠．

“𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅. 𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒘-“ ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑓𝑓．

“𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐲𝐚’. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲?.“ ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎 𝑠𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑘 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠．“𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲?.“ 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛．𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠？！ 𝑖 𝑏𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑦𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎．𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒？ 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑠？ 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑚？𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑒．𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠？． 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑖𝑐．

“𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑨𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.“ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 “𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭“ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒．

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑏𝑠 𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡，𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑝𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑝， ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑘 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟．

“𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡?“ ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑠 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢， 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑝 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒．

“𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒉.“ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒．𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡，𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛𝑡 𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑡．

𝐻𝑒 𝑙𝑒��𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑐ℎ𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢p 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑟𝑢𝑠ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑢𝑝 𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑎𝑟．𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑒𝑑．

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨, 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤.“ ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑡 ，𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛．𝐻𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑘，𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒．

𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑘．

𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜？． 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒！

𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑠．

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Chapters: 14/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Original Character(s), Class 1-A (My Hero Academia) & Original Character(s), Bakugou Katsuki/Original Female Character(s), Bakugou Katsuki/Reader, Midoriya Izuku/Reader, Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku/Reader, Todoroki Shouto/Reader, Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto Characters: Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijirou, Todoroki Shouto, Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Uraraka Ochako, Iida Tenya, Satou Rikidou, Tokoyami Fumikage, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Sensei | All For One, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Yaoyorozu Momo, Asui Tsuyu, Jirou Kyouka, Shouji Mezou, Ojiro Mashirao, Shinsou Hitoshi, Kota Koji, Toru Hagakure, Yuga Aoyama, Class 1-B (My Hero Academia), League of Villains (My Hero Academia), Takami Keigo | Hawks, Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Masaru, Bakugo Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku - Character Additional Tags: Graphic Description, Eventual Romance, Original Character(s), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Trauma, Badass, powerful quirk, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, a lot of sarcasm, aizawa is a dad!!, midnight is a great mom, principle nezu is a ray of sunshine, Slow Burn, Fluff and Smut, Sexual Tension, long fic, Past Child Abuse, past trauma, Blood and Injury, Violence Summary:

As a young teen trying to figure what its like to be a normal teenager…well as normal as one can be in a world with QUIRKS! Nozomi Akumu tries to figure out, what its like to even be a student in high school. While being a pro hero at the age of 15. She’s determine to not let her past control her any longer. Will she find revenge in killing the man that destroyed her life? Or will she finally understand the meaning her parents taught her long ago? Come along on the journey that is Nozomi Akumu’s life. And find out why is her quirk so fearful.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Two Hours - Chapter 1 - Shigaraki x Reader

***

Maybe, just maybe, some things might be worth waiting for.

***

Two hours.

He was late by a full two hours. Meaning 120 minutes, 2700 seconds, 7200000 precious milliseconds wasted of your life. You'd know, you counted.

You glared at the library clock again, as if it was its fault you had been stood up. Disgruntledly, you pushed back your chair, getting up to put your laptop and revision materials back in your bag. It was the last time you'd try and help a stranger because clearly, strangers sucked.

You had done tutoring for different classes since your second year in college. Literature, philosophy, anthropology, history- name it, you could teach it. And you loved doing it like few other things made you happy. Was there anything as wonderful as showing others the beauty of human nature, its creativity, its passion, its sincerity?

"Sincerity my ass," you thought, angrily shoving your backpack on one shoulder. It clunked loudly as it bumped against a wooden shelf, and the librarian threw you a dirty look from the other side of the room. Part of you felt bad; you had spent a while trying to cultivate a good relationship with the older man, since you spent most of your free time in the library. But the rest of you, which was to say almost all of you, didn't care, because you were unbelievably frustrated.

You had had students give you tons of excuses before: they were sick, their mom was sick, their neighbors' dog was sick, and they just had to skip the tutoring session. You didn't mind that; they'd always text at least an hour in advance, and you'd have the time to read their message and go home with a smile, instead of walking all the way to the library. 

But today's guy was different. You knew he had your number and your email address: it was part of the tutoring agreement you had both signed online. And yet he hadn't had the decency, the respect, to send a single message to tell you he couldn't come to the two-hour appointment he himself scheduled. And now, you had just wasted two hours, excitedly waiting to expose the wonders of literature to a guy who couldn't even bother to text you "can't come". 

You gave the librarian a half-hearted nod of apology and headed toward the big glass doors at the front of the building. The weather looked moody outside, the sky grey and heavy like rain could start pouring at any moment. You didn't need to check your bag to know you didn't pack an umbrella. It was clear this was one of the days.

Sighing, you opened the heavy door to walk out at the same moment a man pushed to get in. You tucked your body to the side to keep the door open for him, but he flatly ignored the gesture, walking past you without uttering a "thank you".

"Yup," you thought, "strangers suck."

Before you could take more than a few steps outside, a droplet of water fell right on top of your nose, stopping you in your tracks. And then another, and another, and in a flash, the area was getting flooded, puddles already forming around on the dark asphalt. You couldn't help as another sigh escaped you, bracing for the impact of the freezing rain as you took a step forward into the tempest.

Then, something grabbed you by the shoulder.

You yelped in surprise and turned around, fists instinctively bunching up to your chest to protect yourself, heart racing. It took you a few seconds to recognize the rude guy who had just passed you on his way in.

He was tall, taller than you had first realized. His oversized hoodie made it hard to gauge his frame, the visibly worn-out fabric stretched shapelessly around his torso. Your eyes looked up for a face you couldn't find: the black hood fully obscured his features, and for a second, images of killers in horror movies alarmingly flashed through your mind.

You shoved yourself out of his grip and took a step back, eyes wide. He nonchalantly placed his hand back in his pocket, an unimpressed glare staring right back at you. His eyes were red, bright red.

"You're the tutor, right?"

You looked at the ominous figure incredulously.

"What ?"

"You're the tutor, right ?" he repeated in a low, raspy tone. He sounded annoyed.

You kept staring at him, wondering if he was speaking in a foreign language you had never heard of.

Then, his words started registering.

"Tomura..." you started uncertainly, the math adding up in your head as you remembered the name on the little manilla folder you had prepared for today, "Shigaraki ?"

A small smile etched itself onto the man's face, and you noticed how cracked his lips were, a faded scar going through the dried skin. Strands of slightly greasy hair, white as snow, rebelliously escaped the black hood, and for a second you caught another glimpse of his crimson eyes. But they disappeared back under the shadow of the fabric, and you realized your body had tensed like a rock.

"I'm the guy," he said nonchalantly, the hand you had pushed away going up to his neck and mindlessly scratching the skin there. There were marks there, some old, and others so fresh they looked like they were bleeding. Anxiously, you wondered if instead of a killer, you had stumbled on an addict.

"Hey, so when do we go get a seat inside? It's fucking cold out here," he added, gesturing lazily towards the library.

You kept staring.

And staring.

And staring.

He hadn't possibly said what you thought he had just said. No one was so impossibly clueless and self-centered that they would come two hours late to a meeting and act like they were the one who was being bothered. But the cold rain falling down your face made it aboundedly clear: this was real.

"No," you finally said, enunciating the word slowly.

He looked as confused as you first did, the smug, composed look on his face instantly falling. He didn't look like he was told "no" often, and you felt the flame of anger start to burn inside you.

"What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no," you replied drily, feeling confidence coursing back through your body. There was no doubt in your mind you already looked like a drowned rat from the rain, and that your waterproof mascara was starting to reach its limits. But you weren't about to be scared of some loser trying to look tough with a crusty hoodie and unwashed hair.

"You came two hours late for the tutoring, which lasts two hours. My work slot with you is from four to six, and it's exactly," you snapped, bringing your phone up to his face, "Ten past six, so my work here is done."

He stared at your phone in incomprehension, then back at you, irritation slowly settling on his pale features. His thin brows frowned, and you noticed another scar marring his right eyelid the piercing crimson stare bore into you. Maybe he was some kind of gang member, and if so, was it a good idea to mouth off to him?

"Look, I don't know what crawled up your ass, but I'm paying to have a tutor," he snarled drily. "That's not fair."

You had to wonder if you were even talking to an adult. So maybe he was a killer, or an addict, or a gang member, and he would end up stabbing you for it, but by God, were you going to put that guy back in place.

"Well, tough luck, buddy," you almost spat out, your usually level-headed patience entirely fizzled out, "it wasn't fair to make me wait two hours and then expect me to have nothing other to do in my life than tutoring your sorry ass. But life isn't fair, is it ?"

You turned around, throwing the man one last angry look: "If you want tutoring, then be there next week. On time."

You felt oddly proud of yourself as you walked away, leaving him wet and alone in the rain. And if you were slightly trembling at the feeling of the crimson stare boring through you all the way down the library path, well, you just had to pray he didn't notice it.

---

"Huh," you noted with both surprise and apprehension, "you're here."

And indeed, there he was, slumped in one of the library's chairs, the stranger you were certain wouldn't come to your meeting this week: Tomura Shigaraki.

You had spent a few days feeling bad about the way you had handled things; yes, he had been incredibly late and entitled, but you never gave him any time to explain himself for it all. Maybe he did have a good reason, and maybe he had only acted so entitled because he was having an especially rough day.

One look at the condescending glare he threw you was enough to confirm that wasn't the case.

"Yeah, I'm here," he muttered, looking away, his right hand still ripping away at his neck like the last time you had seen him. You couldn't help but wonder about the gesture, the practiced way his fingers would visibly carve into the skin. Allergies? Eczema?

His vermillion eyes never left your figure as you put your bag down and awkwardly sat across from him, looking down at the carpeted floors. 

"Why are you that surprised ?" he added flatly, "I told you, I'm paying for this shit."

You weren't a confrontational person; or at least, you did your best to avoid confrontation. But you'd been tired last week, and his whole little disrespectful charade had pushed you over the edge. You weren't sure you were up to deal with it again.

Your lack of response seemed to irritate him; he picked up a small handheld console from his lap, immediately busying himself in a game like your presence held no meaning to him.

You took a small breath, not wanting your temper to rise again; if you wanted this to work, you'd need to be the first to give the olive branch. You put on a nice, professional smile: "Let's put everything to the side for a moment, start over. Maybe we could both introduce ourselves again ?"

His thumbs toyed with the joysticks on his handheld, disinterest palpable."Why? I know who you are."

You could have strangled him.

"Nevermind," you smiled so forcefully it hurt your cheeks. "So, you're here for Lit 3250, Absurdism in Literature. That's a fun class."

"I'm only taking it because I have to," he grumbled. "I'm in computer programming. They make us take a class in the humanities department because the education system is fucked."

You raised an eyebrow at that, genuinely surprised: "They're making you do literature in computer science ?"

He shrugged, his eyes going back to the game on the small screen with obvious boredom.

"Told you. The system is fucked."

You pulled out the little manilla file you had prepared for him from your bag, spreading a few documents on the table between the two of you. For a second, you could have sworn his bored expression flickered into something new, but it was gone before you could register it.

"Well, I might not be able to do much about that, but I can try and make the class easier," you smiled a little more genuinely this time as he put his handheld to the side to look at the papers you had slid in front of him.

To your complete astonishment, as you guided him through the material, the man listened, never once taking notes, yet able to answer any question you threw his way in the shortest, most concise way possible. He seemingly absorbed the information while looking wholeheartedly disinterested, like remembering the words was barely any more work than eating or breathing. You had to wonder if the programmer in him coded the sentences in his mind, imputing every word as little lines of binary code, or if he was just this naturally, annoyingly smart.

"Alright, that's it for today," you concluded, noticing you had gone over the material you had planned for two sessions in just the last two hours. "I didn't take you for the kind of guy to listen to a tutor, but you've done a really good job today."

You gave him an honest smile, hoping to finally mend the bridge from last weekend's incident. Instead, he promptly looked away, lips tightening into a thin line.

"S' just cause I need to pass the class to get my diploma. I don't really give a shit about any of this stuff."

If he saw your face fall at that, he didn't show it. He grabbed his handheld and shoved it in his front pocket, promptly throwing his ragged backpack over his shoulder, as if the last thing he wanted was to stay here a minute longer with you.

"I'll see you next week, then," you hesitantly said, more a question than a statement. He didn't look back at you when he spoke with a grunt, already making his way out.

"Whatever."

---

"So Camus' thing is society is fucked, and as soon as you realize it you gotta kill yourself, right ?"

"Basically !" you beamed excitedly, circling a paragraph in the text facing him with the tip of your finger. "It's the idea that when you understand your role as just a cog in the machine in a mindless daily life, you have to either ignore it to rejoin society, or leave society altogether." 

A small smile danced on Shigaraki's chapped lips, as smug and mocking as all his smiles were. You sometimes wondered if his face could ever express pure, genuine happiness, or if it was perpetually stuck with that self-satisfied expression. 

"Yeah, I can get behind that."

It fit him, in a strange way. And he had every reason to be pompous: in three weeks, you had both gone through double the material you had planned for his first sessions, as be blasted each lesson like a simple tutorial fight in one of the many video games you'd catch him play before each lesson.

"Me too, actually," you agreed.

He looked at you disbelievingly: "You? Feeling like you're not a part of society? Give me a break, you're a tutor in university, there's probably a normie award for that."

"Well, even us normies are really just always doing the same thing, aren't we ?" you explained, laying your chin against your hand pensively. "Take the two of us. We always meet here at four o'clock on Wednesdays, at the same library, at the same table. We don't go through the motions because we want to, we do it because we have to, and that's what everyone expects from us. Kinda makes you want to quit society too, doesn't it ?"

For a moment, he said nothing. There was something unsettling in the way his ruby eyes bore into you, like he was judging your very soul. You felt your cheeks unwillingly redden after a few seconds under his piercing stare, looking away in slight embarrassment. If a few weeks spent with him were enough to convince you he wasn't a serial killer, you still found yourself troubled whenever he'd look at you too long.

He finally seemed satisfied with whatever he found looking into you, eyes mercifully leaving your face before settling on something on the table.

"That's a Plus Ultra sticker," he commented flatly.

You followed his gaze to your cellphone, face down, the small video game logo barely visible on the cover. How had he even noticed it? 

It wasn't that you were ashamed of gaming in your free time, but you knew for a fact the entire literature department bore a clear disdain for any media not printed onto pages. They laughed off anything else as childish and a waste of time. Needless to say, you had never shared that passion with anyone on campus before that moment.

But damn, did you love Plus Ultra.

You couldn't help but grin excitedly at him: "Oh wow, you play too !"

"Sometimes," he shrugged with obviously fake disinterest, his crimson eyes brighter than you had ever seen them before."It's not the best game or anything, but it's alright. I feel like the whole hero fantasy trope is kinda overplayed."

He suddenly clammed up, like he had just remembered who he was talking to. The classic sour, haughty look you had gotten to know reappeared on his face.

"I just didn't know any girls played that game," he mumbled.

And there he was, the asshole you had met on that first rainy day. 

"Well," you replied drily, "I play, and I'm actually one of the top All Might players in the country."

His pale fingers tremored at that, the excited brightness that he was trying very hard to conceal back in his eyes. It was so childish it was almost endearing, in a way.

"Well, what a coincidence. I'm also a top All Might player, except I was in the world ranking, last time I checked," he bragged, nonchalantly picking at his fingernails. "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two later." 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the implication of a "later", of a world where you would be together outside of the required tutoring time, seemed to dawn on him. He stammered wordlessly, red spreading like fire on his pale face. It was... a lot more endearing than you would have thought.

"F-forget it. That was stupid."

You couldn't help but soften at that. Maybe, underneath the dirty hoodie and the deadly glare, he was as timid and insecure as you felt he was. The lashing out, the quips, the bratty entitlement- were they all just a facade for a guy who genuinely didn't know how to interact with others?

 "Well," you hummed, "maybe after you're done with your midterms you could come over to my dorm for a match. There's a big communal TV you can pair consoles with."

The cold, detached mask was back, but it was much harder to believe with the pink coloring that reached the very tip of his ears.

"Yeah, maybe."

---

A month passed before you encountered your first hurdle in your tutoring work with Shigaraki, in the form of a "CLOSED" sign glaring back at you from the library's glass doors.

"Damn it," you mumbled, opening up your phone to find an unread message from the faculty announcing a temporary shutdown. Shigaraki, who had taken up the habit of coming on time for your sessions, looked incredibly pissed.

"So the fuckers think they can send one email and be done with it ?" he angrily snapped, kicking the library's plexiglas door so harshly it made you flinch. You took a mental note to never do anything to find yourself on the wrong side of that kick.

"Well, we can reschedule for tomorrow!" you chirped. Perhaps he'd appreciate you trying to put a positive spin on the situation.

The look he gave you could have turned you into dust.

"I'm already here. And I'm busy tomorrow. I have important things to do."

Briefly, you wondered if by important things he meant staying home and gaming. The college's main campus wasn't very large, and in the few years you had studied here, you had never caught a glimpse of him once. He had the kind of dim presence one could easily forget, but if you had passed him before, you would have known.

"I think the law building lets you take rooms for study sessions, " you proposed.

He sighed, voice raspy with irritation. "It's full of pretentious assholes," he replied drily, "and it's almost a thirty minutes walk from here."

"You're kind of a pretentious asshole yourself", you thought silently. It was clear he wasn't going to help or do anything that required too much effort on his part. When Shigaraki wanted to be annoying, he was really annoying.

"You got a better option ?" you mumbled, frustrated.

He looked down at his shoes, suddenly silent. "Ah ha", you thought victoriously, "didn't think so".

Then, words you could have never expected came out of his mouth: "Yeah. Come to my place."

You looked at him incredulously. He looked as surprised as you did, like he wasn't the one who had just talked.

"I live like ten minutes from here," he explained hurriedly, glaring down at the asphalt like it might melt and swallow him whole, "it'll take way less time."

It wasn't as if you didn't know the guy at all, but to say you knew him enough to go to his house, alone, was a stretch.

Although you had been able to shake off your initial fear of him, you still felt something dark and looming in the way he carried himself. For as easy as it was to read him when he was embarrassed or caught off guard, the calculating, sharp gaze he seemed to judge the world with still left you at a loss. Even more so right now, when it was directed at you.

"Ok," you eventually said before you could decide against it. What was the worst that could happen?

At first, you hadn't had much reason to worry; you walked along the main streets that cornered the campus, still filled with quite a few students going about their business. But then, he took you into a small alleyway. And then another, and another, and another, to the point where you couldn't recognize what part of the city you were even in. The buildings you passed had gotten older and older the more you walked, most of the ones surrounding you were now decrepit and abandoned. They loomed over you and Shigaraki, fully blocking the sun, a claustrophobic maze of old bricks and concrete.

You realized that you had drifted closer to Shigaraki unconsciously, your shoulder almost brushing against his. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away, the simple proximity of someone you at least relatively knew reassuring to your mind.

If Shigaraki noticed, he said nothing, his long, lanky legs moving forward without hesitation. You took a moment to discreetly observe the man, his features more detailed now that you stood next to him. The scarring was much worse than you had first realized. It spread from the small glimpses of his forehead you could see behind strands of shaggy white hair, to the start of his chest hidden by his black shirt. In some spots, the skin looked dry, old; in others, it was like it had been freshly ripped apart by sharp and uneven nails. You had found it worrying for yourself, at first, when you thought he was some kind of junkie; but now you found yourself worrying over how much the bruising hurt him.

His hand protectively grabbed his neck when he noticed your staring, thin eyebrows frowning in annoyance.

"Before you ask, yes, I've tried creams and ointment and all that shit the doctors send you to buy at the drugstore. It doesn't work. I know I'm ugly, you don't need to rub it in."

A pang of guilt hit your chest. You didn't think before honestly replying: "I don't think you're ugly."

He looked at you coldly, any trace of friendliness gone: "You think you're real smart playing with me, don't you?"

"No, I mean it, I don't think you're ugly!" you hurriedly exclaimed. "Just, ok, look."

You quickly pulled back the sleeve of your shirt, showing him the inside of your forearm with insistence. His eyes narrowed suspiciously: "What the hell am I supposed to look at?"

"A scar," you replied, showing him the thin pale line that crossed your skin. "I got it as a kid when I fell from a tree in kindergarten. Oh, and I also have this one!"

You tugged at your pants to reveal a darker webbed mark on your ankle, the skin smoothed by time: "That one is really stupid, I got it from wearing heels three sizes too small at my high school prom and falling down a flight of stairs. And I also have this other one-" 

"I get it !" he interrupted, frustrated. "Yeah, alright, you have some scars too, but it's not the same thing as me."

"I know it's not," you replied calmly. "I'm not trying to say it is. But... I don't think having scars makes me ugly. I think they show I've been through something, and I'm still here to tell the story. And I think you might have been through a lot, but you're still standing here with me. So... if you don't think my scars make me ugly, then you shouldn't think yours do."

 

He didn't reply, silently making his way forward. Had you made him feel angrier, or even embarrassed? In one last effort to get your point across, you added:

"I think they kind of make you like Eraserhead in Plus Ultra 3."

That made him stop right in his tracks.

"You...think I look like Eraserhead ?" he hesitantly asked.

You nodded, and his cheeks reddened slightly. He took a few seconds before letting out the next words:

"Don't laugh," he warned you, "or I'm leaving you here. You can just find your own way back or get murked in an alley for all I care."

You crossed your fingers, presenting them to him ceremoniously.

"I won't laugh. Promise."

"I actually decided to grow out my hair to look like him."

Cute.

That was the first word to come into your mind. Cute. 

You quickly chased the very strange and unwelcome thought away, in case Shigaraki interpreted your pause as a laugh. 

"Well," you replied, "when I was seventeen, I dyed my hair bright yellow to look like All Might. I think I definitely got the short end of the stick in the idea department. "

He laughed, honest to God laughed, a raspy and genuine sound that made something foreign in your chest tightened. You started laughing too, and soon, you were nothing but two giggling idiots in the absolute middle of nowhere.

"Guess you're not that smart after all, miss tutor," he commented with a smirk.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, like he wanted to say something else, but ultimately chose against it. He continued walking without a word, and you followed him the rest of the way in companionable silence, never straying far from his side.

---

It was a bar.

Or rather, the remains of something that once was a bar. A dingy neon sign with the three-letter word hung precariously above the door, the large "B" flashing within an ounce of its life. The walls were covered in graffiti and grime, a suspiciously moldy smell seemingly emanating from the bricks themselves.

"You... live here?" you asked hesitantly as Shigaraki made his way towards the building with no hesitation.

"Yeah," he let out, head snapping back around and eyes narrowing defensively. "You have a problem with that?"

Yes, several, including the probability of being stabbed to death here and my remains being found in the back of a garbage truck.

"No, no problem," you said.

He answered that with a grunt. The small staircase that lead to the entrance creaked under his weight, and he pushed the front door open.

"Wait here," he commanded. It was clear the subject wasn't up for discussion, so you opted for nodding along. "I'll come get you when I'm done with something."

It was all starting to feel like a terrible idea. So what if he liked the same games you did and actually seemed to listen to you rant about literature? You barely knew anything else about him. 

You knew he felt lost in society and rejected by the world. You knew his whole face would become red as a tomato anytime he felt embarrassed or flustered. You knew he would bite his lip in concentration when he played on his handheld, and that his leg would bounce up and down like a puppy's tail every time he got close to winning. You knew his eyes were unlike any you had seen before.

But what did you really know?

"You lost ?"

You spun around so fast you stumbled on your own feet, almost falling straight onto the dirty pavement.

The man standing in front of you had sneaked by so silently you had never registered his presence, even with how close he had gotten. He seemed very amused at the way you backed away in fear, your eyes wide.

"No, no I'm fine, I'm- I'm waiting for a friend, actually," you managed to stammer out.

Somehow, he didn't look like he believed that at all.

He was the picture-perfect example of men your parents had told you to stay away from. His skin was covered in dark tattoos, their shapes incomprehensibly mingled with what appeared to be burn scars, seemingly spreading all over his body. In the dark, one could mistake him for a walking corpse, blue eyes glistening unnaturally in the middle of a patchwork face.

The man dragged his cigarette across his lips, letting a dark puff of smoke escape.

"What a friend, making you wait outside in the cold," he commented, the burnt and inked skin around his mouth moving in a manner you could only describe as uncanny. "Pretty stupid of you to hang out with people from here, princess. Lots of creeps in the area."

He moved closer, so close you could smell the tobacco off his breath, and the instinctive need to run coursed through your body.

"No need to be scared though," he let out with a smirk that screamed the absolute contrary. "I can stay with you for a while. Protect ya."

He was too close for you to run, now; if you tried, he could easily grab you with the large hand that was nonchalantly making its way toward your waist. 

"Dabi."

Your head spun towards the entrance at the same time as the man's did. Relief spread through your body at the sight of Shigaraki, standing in front of the door where he had left you. His crimson gaze, which usually never left your form alone for more than a few seconds, was not focused on you, but on the stranger, who looked back at you with an utterly flabbergasted expression. Whoever he was, Shigaraki wasn't happy to see him.

"That's your friend ?" the stranger snorted as he started laughing uncontrollably, like he had just heard the funniest joke in his life. "Holy shit, you're even dumber than I thought you were !"

Clearly, Shigaraki did not find that funny in the slightest. You had forgotten how cold his expression had been when you first met him, uncaring and eerie. This was that, but colder, angrier, like the ripples that started forming in the water as a devastating storm would approach.

"Dabi," he repeated, and his tone was dark, final. For the first time in weeks, you felt something akin to fear at the sight of him, even knowing his anger wasn't directed at you. Had he always looked so unnervingly intimidating?

"Ok, ok, she's all yours, boss," the man finally said as he backed away, dropping the butt of his cigarette before unceremoniously stomping it. "Didn't mean to touch the property."

Tomura silently walked towards you, a rigid, cold hand forcefully grabbing yours and pulling you towards him. He headed back in, fingers so tightly clutched against yours that it hurt, and you followed without protest. You threw one last look at the man he called Dabi, a look of pure amusement on his face.

"Property", he had said. 

The innards of the bar were much cozier than the outside view let on. It was relatively well kept, with a red counter with a few retro-style stools occupying the majority of the space, the leftover corner dedicated to an old leather couch facing a battered TV. With no windows on the walls, the only light came from a few yellowish neons hanging on the ceiling. The room was empty except for the well-dressed man behind the counter, who you could only assume was the bartender. He merely nodded at your arrival, his face obscured by a cloud of dark hair in the dim light, what you could discern of his body barely a shadow against the wall of bottles.

Shigaraki ignored him, pointedly dragging you to a door at the back, which lead to a small, dark corridor. He only stopped when he reached the last door, swiftly turning the rusty knob.

It wasn't difficult to understand it was his bedroom; the only light came from the double monitor screen connected to an impressive gaming PC. With the exception of a few shelves filled to the brim with trinkets and figurines, the walls were mostly bare, the white coat of paint discolored and yellowed. Visibly dirty clothes were pilled up in a corner, as if someone had hurriedly picked them up for the floor and tossed them there in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal them.

"Sit anywhere," he grumbled, looking away. "Or don't. Whatever."

He was even worse at hiding his blush than he was at hiding his clothes. You couldn't help but smile.

There were only two spots you could sit in the room: the expensive-looking gaming chair, which was clearly the most valuable item in the entire bar, or the messy one-person bed, which seemed to not have seen a washing machine in a while. The last thing you wanted was to anger Shigaraki after the encounter with the man outside, so sitting in his gaming chair seemed like a bad idea. You opted for the bed, praying to God the sheets naturally looked so patchy and discolored.

"W-what the fuck are you doing?" he sputtered immediately as you sat, eyes wide.

"Sitting," you replied simply.

"Not there! Are you stupid or something?" he audibly cringed. Damn it, you had made the wrong call. "Just sit on the floor. It's not dirty or anything, Kurogiri cleaned it recently."

You glanced doubtfully at the impressive amount of energy drinks and used tissues littering the room before lowering yourself down out of fear of seeming rude. Briefly, you wondered if Kurogiri was the man you saw mend to the bar. He looked nothing like Shigaraki, and referred to him far too politely to be family. He was too young to be his father either way. Was he both the bartender and the housekeeper?

"But why would Shigaraki have a housekeeper?", you wondered silently

"The guy outside, Dabi," you finally said. "He called you boss."

Shigaraki didn't even bother turning around to answer flatly: "And ?"

"Do you... own this place?"

"Something like that. Here."

He handed you a controller you immediately recognized, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around it just like with the one you had spent countless hours playing with at home. Shigaraki smirked slightly at the sight of you already being ready for combat.

"So, spill it out. What's your tragic backstory ?" you asked, leaning your back to the wall with a mischievous smile.

"What ?" he replied, seemingly caught off guard.

"C'mon," you pressed. "I've never seen you wear anything other than a black hoodie over a black shirt and black sweatpants. You're not subtle about it."

"I don't think you've unlocked that dialogue option yet," he retorted, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "How about you? What's your tragic backstory ?"

You chuckled: "What makes you think I have one?"

"You'd have to be a little fucked up to follow some guy you barely know into a shady bar in the middle of an abandoned factory district," he replied, raising an eyebrow, a wicked smile on his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at that; he was right. "Well, I don't think you've unlocked that yet either, Shigaraki."

"Just call me Tomura," he offered, a touch of resignation in his voice. Was he finally warming up to you? "Might as well if I'm stuck with you for the rest of the semester."

Maybe not. But something felt oddly nice about this, about him, and no matter how weird it all was, you couldn't help but let yourself bask in the strange feeling.

The computer let out a familiar little tune as the game booted up on the screen. Shigaraki visibly hesitated between sitting on his own chair or the floor, ultimately selecting the floor while keeping a reasonable distance from you. You had a feeling he wasn't very comfortable with women. But what he may have lacked in social skills, he definitely made up in gaming: his eyes burnt with fiery passion as the title screen appeared on the monitor, his hands tight around the controller. The look he threw you was one of pure confidence:

"C'mon. Show me what you're made of."

He immediately selected All Might in the character selection, implicitly daring you to do the same. All Might was the most powerful character in all the game, but he was famously the hardest one to master, with his controls requiring intense speed and dexterity. You could tell Shigaraki hadn't been lying about being one of the greatest All Might players; his fingers were already lined up on the buttons for a noticeably hard deadly combo. But you weren't one to back down on a challenge.

"5 rounds. No bonus power-ups," you smiled right back at him, pressing the button to also select All Might. The screen flashed red as the game loaded the fighting arena.

"You're playing a pretty dangerous game, you know that, player two ?" he commented, a hint of warning in his tone.

"I don't intend on losing," you replied with a grin.

And if the wild spark in his eyes meant anything, neither did he.

[r0tt3nb3rr13s]

after failsafe ends, what would you guys be interested in seeing next? shigaraki mha x villain reader or a college au vergil sparda x reader?

[zombryz]

♡ all my suffering ♡

˗ˏˋ hello ˎˊ˗    & thx for reading :3

Chapter One

masterlist | Next Chapter 2  | ao3 | playlists (still updating) (dabi & shigaraki)

Pairings: Shigaraki x f!reader x Dabi

A/N: ok so, I started writing this following the original storyline of bnha but then somewhere along the way I got the timeline mixed up and then went down my own path. So please be aware this loosely follows the story of bnha.

Summary: You can’t remember who he is but something about him draws you in. While trapped with the LOV, you try to remember your quirk and who you were before. Unknowing to you, your life as a hero left you depressed and swallowed with PTSD from your quirk failing you. Maybe the heroes were wrong and villain's are people too?

Warnings: (current, may change throughout the story) PSTD, Death, depression, angst, abuse (physical and emotional), possessiveness, memory loss, eventual lemon, smut, slowburn

Word Count: 15k

It was the beginning of the school year when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. There was a very faint almond-like aroma in the air. The weather was comfortable, not too cold and not too hot. You had found yourself walking with one foot in front of the other up the all-too-familiar steps of the notorious school for heroes, U.A. High School. Graduating U.A. last school year, you returned to intern with the Youthful Heroine: Recovery Girl, who is the nurse at U.A. High School. Recovery Girl was no stranger to you, you were a student of hers prior to graduating. You had always loved her presence, she was a kind elderly woman who wore a lab coat that was way too big for her. Her quirk was quite similar to yours which made her curriculum feel like it was carved out for you and you only. Her quirk allows her to amplify and speed up the human healing process by kissing them. The only drawback is that it requires large amounts of energy from the subject, rendering them useless for long periods of time while their bodies recover. Your quirk on the other hand was slightly different, you were the Restore Hero: Medela. Principal Nezu was the one to suggest using your quirk in the medical field, he said he was certain you were able to fix anything that had once been broken. After his suggestion, one of your schoolmates, a boy who was in a class below you, had broken his leg. You were then put to the test, Recovery Girl had you use your quirk on the boy. You were nervous but got to working quickly, the boy’s whimpers of pain broke your heart. Once you put your hands on the boy’s leg there was silence and suddenly no more pain, you had closed your eyes while focusing on fixing his broken femur bone. Both Recovery Girl and your schoolmate stared at you in awe while you worked, your hair began to float and you had the gentlest smile spread across your lips. Once you had finished reversing his broken leg you slowly opened your eyes and noticed the boy staring back at you. A rosy heat spread all the way to his pointed ears. Later that day Recovery Girl stormed down to the Principal’s office and demanded that she train you. Here you were a year later returning to work under Recovery Girl. You’re scheduled to spend half of your school week with her and the other half at the hospital working under the nurses as an intern. There was still a lot you needed to learn in the medical field, your quirk just made things easier for you. Your quirk was touch-based which came in handy but unfortunately, you couldn’t be in two places at once. You learned the hard way that you have to come in contact with the dead moments after death in order to revive them. Reviving the dead was an incredible power, however, the first time it didn’t work you had a meltdown, and the accident haunted you for days, months even. You attempted to revive a young man who had been in a tragic car accident, the heroes had brought him in with multiple injuries including a head wound. You ran to the other side of the hospital as fast as you could once you were paged, it was already too late, he had been dead for only a couple of minutes. You held his head in your hands and pressed your forehead to his, your hair began to float but your gentle smile faded, instead it was replaced by a stream of tears. You couldn’t feel him anymore, he was gone. You had failed. The nursing staff tried to comfort you and tell you it wasn’t your fault but it didn’t help. That’s when the hospital requested that you spend some time with Recovery Girl once the new school year started, it would be less intense and you wouldn’t blame yourself for that boy's death every waking hour of the day. Your arrival to U.A. today was in hopes that they were right, you hoped that this would be a breather for you and that you could heal your worries before returning to the hospital full-time. 

Once entering U.A. you received a badge that read “student teacher” and you made your way to Recovery Girl’s office. There were a few familiar faces on the way but there was one that stood out to you the most, your first patient ever. The boy with the broken leg appeared to have grown up a lot in the past year. He was now towering over you, his dark hair was much longer and he still looked as shy as the day he was injured. You never learned his name but you smiled at him nonetheless and had hoped he remembered you too. He returned your smile with a toothy grin revealing his fangs and then he immediately got embarrassed and looked down at his feet. After roaming the halls for what felt like forever, you made it to Recovery Girl’s office, the bell ringing right after you entered the doorway. 

“Well if it isn’t my favorite student, Y/N,” Recovery Girl made her way over to you with short strides and your face lit up at the sight of her. You bent down to her level so she could hug you and place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hello, Shuzenji! Long time no see,” 

Recovery girl left your hug to sit in her chair, she sighed before continuing, her tone was a serious one. “Now Y/N, you know I love you but why are you here? You should be fighting alongside heroes not sitting here with me, I’ve taught you everything I know!” she waved her hands around, her cane following for dramatic effect. 

“I-” you began to speak but you were cut off.

“If this is about that boy…. It wasn’t your fault and you know that.” she lowered her voice to show sympathy. You didn’t even know that she knew about that. Her words made you feel guilty for wasting her time.

“I know. I just… needed a break from it all. I don’t think I’m cut out for the hero world Shuzenji, I feel like I can’t breathe and if I walk away from the medical field everyone will hate me because my quirk is perfect for it,” your voice sounded heavy like you were pleading with her while holding back tears. You wanted her acceptance more than anything. 

“Now, you know no one will hate you. If time is what you need then I can give that to you,” she jumped down from her chair as if to say she was done speaking on the subject. “Let's start with you making files of all the new students for this year, okay?” Great. She was giving you her office work. 

“Sure, I’ll get started on that right away.” 

This was going to be a long next couple of months, you could already feel it in your bones. 

♡

A few weeks have passed at U.A. high school and you’ve gotten to know a lot of the students. Your most frequent visitor is a first-year boy named Izuku Midoriya who comes in quite often with broken fingers. He has tender eyes, a face full of freckles, and dark green hair. Every time he comes in you give him a hard time, it always ends with you begging him to be more careful. He makes false promises to make you feel better but he always ends up back in here. You think you might have a soft spot for him, he’s such a kind boy and it seems like he is giving his all to becoming a hero. You admire him for it, you don’t have the same motivation. Helping people comes naturally to you but being a hero is giving up your happiness for good. Heroes are always hurting inside, you can see it in their faces. 

You were currently in the nurse's office cleaning up the cots for the next kid that wanders in here with an injury. You heard some commotion down the hall and without hesitation you followed the yelling to see where it was coming from and to see if anyone was hurt and needed help. It was a group of teachers, they apparently just found out some troubling news. Class 1-A was attacked at the U.S.J. building by a swarm of villains. Your eyes go wide when you realize that means the villains infiltrated the school. 

“I’ll come just in case anyone is hurt!” you said to no one in particular but turned to face the teacher Snipe who only nodded in response. 

Once you and your fellow teachers arrived at the U.S.J. it was a total mess, there were unconscious bodies everywhere. It looked like the battle was coming to an end, and in the center of it all, you could see your old teacher Mr.Aizawa, or rather the Pro Hero: Eraserhead, laying flat on his stomach in a pool of blood. Without thinking you attempted to run after him, he needed help and you could provide it. A strong force stopped you before you could continue your way down the stairs. Wrapped around you was one of Snipe’s arms, he was holding you in place, his maroon cape draping over you slightly, and in his other hand was a pistol. You followed its line of sight to where he was aiming, there was a man you had never seen before. He must be a villain. He was wearing all black and was dressed in hands, literal hands, from what you can tell. They were wrapped around his arms, neck, and shoulders. Red wires that matched his shoes were sticking out of the backs of the hands connecting them all together. The creepiest feature was the large hand that covered his whole face. It made you feel uneasy. The sound of gunshots pulled you from your thoughts causing you to turn and face Snipe, who was relentlessly unloading bullets into the Villain in the distance. You watched as a bullet hit his chest, both arms, and legs. He fell to the ground before a dark cloud cast over him, you assumed it was to teleport him back to where he came from. A look of panic spread across your face, you had no idea if the Villain that was before you only moments ago was now dead or not. Snipe still held onto you as he continued unloading bullets into the cloud, he wore a mask but you knew that if his face was bare that there wouldn't be a single bit of emotion behind his shots. The thought of that scared you. Villains were just scum to heroes, but to you, they were people too. It felt like time froze as you looked up at your captor, he finally lowered his weapon and let you go. The panic on your face was replaced with judgment as you furrowed your brows at him. Snipe shook it off and took it as if you were just upset that he wouldn’t let you run down to the war zone. Without exchanging words you turned around to finally run down towards the others. 

A few students had helped carry Eraserhead up the stairs, he seemed to be suffering the most damage.

“Don’t worry guys, I got him,” you reached out to help the students lower him to the ground so that you could start healing him. He was unconscious and suffered a very extreme injury to his elbow, you had never seen something so damaging. His muscles surrounding his bones were out in the open, and there was no longer any skin protecting his elbow. His right eye was covered in blood but that injury would have to be treated secondly. If you don’t act now he could have permanent nerve damage. You sat his head in your lap while you grabbed his elbow with both of your hands activating your quirk. Closing your eyes and connecting your forehead to his you felt like something was wrong, you couldn’t feel his elbow healing. When you opened your eyes his elbow looked exactly the same, you began to breathe heavily, a panic sweeping over you. It was happening again, your quirk is failing you. Why? What the fuck is wrong with me? Why is it happening again?

“U-um something’s wrong! Someone help!” your voice was shaky but you were able to speak loud enough for the others to hear you. Shuzenji was the first to rush to your side, she looked Eraserhead up and down. His head was still in your lap while you were fighting back tears. You tried to keep him still so that he wouldn’t be in pain, your thumb gently running over his temples. Shuzenji gave you a look like she knew exactly what was going on, she knew that you weren’t going to be able to heal him. 

“We need to get him to my office immediately, hurry!” Shuzenji pounded her cane on the ground multiple times to get the other teacher's attention. Eraserhead was ripped from your arms by Snipe and Present Mic and you were left on the ground of the U.S.J feeling defeated. You weren’t able to help him and you had no idea what you’d done wrong. 

♡

After the U.S.J. attack, you learned that the villainous group who broke in went by ‘The League of Villains’, the man who you saw get shot multiple times was known as Tomura Shigaraki, just a boy who was only a few years older than you. This made you sick to your stomach. The news didn’t say whether or not he was alive which still made you uneasy considering the LOV has been quiet since the attack. Luckily, you didn’t have time to think about it much, everyone was too busy preparing for the U.A. Sports Festival, including yourself. You knew there would be a lot of injuries and you had to come ready to assist Shuzenji. Although you've been in your head ever since failing Eraserhead, you were stuck fighting an internal battle. Seeing him wrapped in bandages head to toe definitely pulled on your heartstrings. Apologizing to him didn’t make you feel any better, he shrugged it off and told you that “shit happens'. He gave his life to save the kids of Class 1-A but you couldn’t save him. What an awful feeling, failing.

You had sat in the stadium watching the students battle below you, cringing whenever one of them got hurt. You would rise from your seat and meet them in the nurse's office once they were pulled from the arena. You scolded Izuku for going too hard battling his classmate Todoroki. After healing both of his arms you sent him on his merry way.

The next few weeks at U.A. were a drag, there was a ton of talk about a hero killer in Hosu City. The students were working with pro heroes to train under them so there wasn’t much to do at the school. You wanted to avoid the hospital though so you tried to keep yourself busy. You spent a lot of time with the teachers and even got to go to lunch with All Might a few times. Younger you was fangirling hard. He wasn’t a teacher when you were here last year so you were taking full advantage of getting to know the number one Pro Hero. 

“Soooo, All Might... Out of curiosity, have you ever fought Shigaraki before the U.S.J incident?” you looked up at him with big doe eyes while funneling the rest of your ramen into your mouth. You only had a little under an hour for lunch with All Might so you tried to pick his brain as much as possible. You weren’t even sure why you were asking this question, you just couldn’t get the villain out of your head.

“No, young L/N, I have not fought him before. To be honest with you, I am stumped as to where he came from but this isn’t the first time I have had enemies so he is nothing to worry about. I’ll catch him.” he finished his sentence with a hint of sadness in his voice although he was still toothy with his signature All Might smile. Without realizing it, All Might gave you information that he also believes Shigaraki to be alive with that last comment.

You figured he wouldn’t speak any more on the subject so you kept quiet until your time was up. You always swear that All Might is steaming by the time he leaves you. Later that evening you were alone to gather your thoughts. Your stomach dropped at the thought of Shigaraki being alive out there plotting more attacks, but for some reason, you’re also thankful you didn’t watch him die. You wish you could put this fascination of him to rest, or whatever you’d call it. You didn’t like that your mind automatically went to him being shot over and over again. 

Even though you knew he was alive now for some reason he didn’t leave your mind. During Class 1-A’s final exams, you just kept thinking back to him, maybe it was because you couldn’t see his face. Why were you so fascinated by him? Maybe you were just bored and U.A. wasn’t as fast-paced as you needed it to be. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you were becoming obsessed with him. The news outlets knew very little about him and it irked you. If only you could just find out who he was and then you could return to normal. He was slowly taking over your mind. When you closed your eyes you saw him, hand over his face and light blue shaggy hair falling around it. Even when you healed Izuku after his final exam with All Might you saw Shigaraki when you closed your eyes. You apparently jolted while healing because Izuku asked you if you were okay. 

It didn’t get much better in the days to come, it was now summer for the students and they were going to a camp to get more training. You volunteered to go with them so that Shuzenji didn’t have to. After all, how could the students manage to injure themselves at a summer camp? 

You were staying in the same vicinity as Eraserhead and Vlad King. There were no injuries on the first night, just a ton of sore and tired kids. The students had to make their way to the camp down a mountain of forest while fighting a bunch of rock monsters that Pixie-bob, the pussycat hero, created from landslide rocks. The next day you sat around and watched all of the students pushing their quirks to their limits, you almost felt bad for them but you remembered that this was needed for them to know their limits. On the third day of the lodge trip, Pixie-bob and Ragdoll explain a game that the students were going to play called the test of courage. It was a game that would take place in the forest. It was dark already so you knew this game was going to be spooky. Both classes 1-A and 1-B would have scarers and scarees. The class that scared the most students would ultimately win. You decided to hang back with Eraserhead while he taught the supplementary lessons to those who didn’t pass the final exams. You were in the back of the classroom on your phone when you heard an urgent message reverberate through your brain, it was Mandalay using her telepathy to warn everyone about a Villain invasion. Your eyes widened with fear. How did they find this place? 

“Y/N, come with me. Everyone else stays put.” Eraserhead signaled you to follow him, there was no hesitation, you got to your feet and met him at the front of the classroom. Technically, you had your Pro Hero license and you were registered as a Pro Hero so if it came down to fighting then fighting was what you were going to do to protect the students. Luckily, on this trip, you were required to wear your Pro Hero costume. You wore a black spandex suit that was easy to move around in. You had black combat boots on and thigh attachments that carried medical equipment on one thigh and a holster to carry knives on the other side. This was in case you had to cut someone out of a seat belt or cut their clothes to allow access to heal them. Your hair was sloppily pulled back in a half up half down bun because you weren’t actually in the field and you knew you wouldn’t get in trouble for being ‘out of uniform’. You were considered a rescue hero but you were also taught hand-to-hand combat at U.A. “I’ll meet you outside, I’m going down the hall to get Vlad.” 

“Okay, I’ll get as many students inside as I can,” you replied to which Eraserhead nodded and took off down the hall. 

You ran outside and after taking a look around you realized that this was not a good situation. You heard screams coming from the woods and saw what looked like a gas cloud over the distance. You made a mental note to be cautious when breathing if you came too close to it. Suddenly you heard a twig snap to your right and saw a hand reach out toward your face, you ducked just in time and see a wave of blue flames go over your head. If you hadn’t reacted quickly you would’ve quite literally been toast. Thinking on your feet you sweep your foot out and trip your opponent, he falls to the ground and you place your foot on his chest to immobilize him. You only got a quick look at him before he grabbed your foot and sent flames up your calf forcing you to release him. You doubled over in pain from the burns and grasped at your calf noticing his flames burnt your suit up to right above your knee. The fabric was singed into your skin, you quickly healed yourself but your opponent took off inside the building. Fuck. You punched your fist into the ground before rising to your feet to chase after him. You’re met with Eraserhead stomping the man over and over again before he began turning into mud beneath him. 

“He was just a clone,” he whispered under his breath but you were close enough to hear him. Great, so the real one is out there somewhere. 

“I’m going to go find as many students as I can and escort them back here to safety,” you looked to Eraserhead for confirmation, he quickly nodded and you were out the door. 

Avoiding the fog you took off in the opposite direction. Suddenly, you hear Mandalay’s voice once more. Her words rang through your brain, the students were now authorized to battle the villains. This made you less concerned now that the students were able to fight back, although you prayed the kids were strong enough to fight these villains. After escorting a few students from class 1-B back to camp, you continued through the forest in hopes of rescuing more students. In the distance you recognized a few of class 1-A students' voices, it was dark so you squint your eyes to pinpoint their location. From what you could tell it was Todoroki, Bakugo, Shoji, and Fumikage. Silently you started running after them, it wouldn’t be smart to yell out towards them just in case there were any villains lurking around. As you got closer you noticed a head of dark green hair on Shoji’s back. Oh no, Midoriya must be hurt. Finally, you were close enough to get their attention. As you reached your hand out towards them and parted your lips to speak you were stopped abruptly by the force of someone grabbing a hold of you. A large burnt-up hand descended into your peripherals, grabbing a hold of your face to cover your mouth. Their hands were hot but there was an uncomfortableness when you felt cold staples against your lips. When you tried to scream you were met with silence. Unable to see your captor you tried to shake them by rapidly jerking your body. You attempted to head-butt them with the back of your skull as hard as you could but they were much taller than you so you were just met with a hard thud of their shoulder. Your vision went blurry and you could tell you partially knocked yourself out. This captor was too strong for you, your fighting was met in defeat when you noticed a small bluish marble in their other hand. A panic swept over you, were you about to die? Your captor moved the marble towards you and you were met with nothingness. Everything went black, it was as if you were sedated and fell silently asleep. 

“I got the healer girl, we have everyone we need, let's get back to the boss.” 

♡

Falling in and out of consciousness you felt weightless against someone or something. Whoever they were made you feel tiny in their grasp as you were being held against your will. Once you gained enough energy after waking, you managed to kick and wiggle against your captor but when you tried to let out a scream there was no noise, you were only met with silence and a pounding feeling on the side of your temple. Then there was a terrifying feeling of something warm trickling down your face. Trying to wipe it from your cheek you immediately felt the tension as you realized your hands were bound together behind your back. Your stomach was uneasy as it was pressed against this stranger. You must’ve been thrown over their shoulder and facing the ground behind them. That’s when the panic set in, you couldn’t actually see anything. It was completely dark. Your breathing felt heavy and you were drenched in sweat. After analyzing the situation quickly you came to terms with the fact that there was no escaping the stranger’s grasp, at least right now. From what you could tell, your head was covered with some sort of cloth and your mouth was taped shut so that you couldn’t scream. Closing your eyes you inhaled through your nose as deeply as your lungs allowed. Ouch. That’s when you noticed all of your pain. Either a cracked or bruised rib, the possible gash in the side of your head, and your wrists bloodied from trying to escape. The only noises to be heard were your captors' giant footsteps. It sounded like a dirt path with some scattered gravel. You think it's night, the only information you have to confirm this is the crickets in the distance and how dark it is through the cloth. Maybe you were in the woods? Ugh, this was no use, plus you felt so tired suddenly and with the swaying of your strangers' strides, you couldn’t help but feel like they were rocking you to sleep. Your eyes began to feel heavy and all at once, your head dropped and you were out of consciousness again. 

Everything was muffled. There were multiple voices as you stirred yourself awake. It felt like you were maybe tied to a chair. Now that you were grounded you felt extremely dizzy and nauseous. It felt like you were hit by a truck. The cloth was still over your head but this time you were able to see some light shining through. You made a mental note that you were probably inside, the only question remaining was where? There was dried blood all over your face. The blood extended to your right ear and dried up, slicking your hair back and knotting it together.  With the movement of your stirring awake, you must’ve opened the gash more causing another warm substance to trickle down your face, down your cheek, and finally pooling in the crevice of your collarbone. 

“Oh, yummy! She’s bleeding,” a young girl spoke over the rest of the voices, you could hear her musical footsteps approaching you as she skipped over. She started humming in your ear and then you felt her finger gather the pooling blood on your clavicle like how you would gather leftover sauce on your plate. You were still unable to see her but this action made you wince. 

“Don’t touch her Toga, and stop being a pain in my ass,” another voice chimed in, it was deep and soothing, almost like a crackling fire. Whomever it belonged to sounded dangerous. 

“Sorry Dabi,” the girl retreated, backing away from you. You were relieved of this until suddenly someone ripped the cloth bag off of your head. The light was almost blinding, your ears started ringing and you flinched away trying to let your eyes adjust. Through heavy lashes, you looked up at the group that captured you. They were all hovering over you and you felt like their prey just sitting there tied to a chair, like a lamb to the slaughter. Your eyes tracked a figure in the background that was walking towards the scene. He looked oddly familiar but for some reason, you can’t remember why. Everyone parted allowing access to the stranger amongst strangers. He was tall and skinny, he wore all black aside from his bright red sneakers. The most concerning part was that of his face, although it wasn’t a face really. It was a hand. Laying over his face was a decomposing hand. Creepy. It was shaped like that of a man’s left hand and at the end of the wrist was a gold-plated block. His shaggy blue hair fell on the sides of his face and parted through the slits of the hand’s fingers. Through the hand’s middle and index finger was his eye, he was looking at you curiously as you stared back at him with curiosity for him as well. The moment was intense and everyone in the room fell silent while he kneeled in front of you, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He was rough with his touch causing you to wince.

“Strange. Why aren’t you screaming? Don’t you know who we are?” His voice was much raspier and high pitched than you expected. Although he was touching you, for some odd reason, you weren’t scared of him. You almost didn’t feel anything at all, complete stillness. 

“No, am I supposed to know who you are?” it hurt to speak, your voice came out strained and low. It felt similar to a child being lectured and knowing they were in trouble. 

“I suppose not,” he let go of your chin aggressively, not liking your answer. Your chin felt empty where his hand once was and the heaviness of your body gave in, you couldn’t keep your head up any longer. That’s when he noticed how bad the gash in your head was. Your ear was covered in blood making it hard to hear, you were sure that some of it pooled into your ear drum. The ominous man turned on his heels to face the rest of his group. “Nobody touches her unless I say so, got it?” his voice was deeper when he spoke to them. It was more authoritative. This confirmed your suspicions of him being their leader, whoever he was. You watched him closely while he was turned away. His hair fell at the backside of his shoulders, giving him access to his neck. He looked lean and pale. That’s when you noticed all the scratch marks that infested the underneath of his jawline. His skin was very dry and irritated. The girl from before frowned at his order and with eyes drunk in desperation, she smiled at you before skipping away. The rest of the group started dispersing before the faceless man turned to another man who was leaning against the wall nonchalantly. He had a dark presence and was wearing a black overcoat with what looked like heavy metal sleeves. 

“Clean and stitch her up,” the leader pointed at you with a nod. The other man stood up and walked closer to him. Once he was under the light you noticed his facial scarring. He had a smile made of staples that went from earlobe to earlobe. His under eyes were also covered in staples and his facial scarring almost looked a purple hue. When he noticed you staring at him his eyes met yours and you nervously looked away. Before you did you caught a glimpse of how piercingly blue his eyes were. 

“C’mon boss, make Toga do it,” the dark-haired man complained, he must be Dabi. You recognized his voice from earlier when the Toga girl apologized to him. He looked agitated, it made sense. He was probably in so much pain, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was angry all the time. 

“Toga would drain her, just do it Dabi,” the blue-haired leader sighed, he also seemed annoyed. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were here or why they went through the trouble of kidnapping you if they think of you as so much of a burden. 

“Fine, but just because you don’t think I’ll ‘drain’ her doesn’t mean I’m going to play nice,” he retorted, ending the conversation with his boss. He trudged towards you with haste in each step. Before you knew it he stood before you, his crystal blue eyes staring down at you, bewilderment hiding behind such anger and pain. You looked at him through your lashes, not sure what he wanted you to do. He lowered himself to untie you from the chair, making sure that your hands were still bound together. You weren’t even sure if you would consider yourself a danger to him. Even without the knowledge of his quirk, you were almost positive he could overpower you. Wait, what was your quirk again? You didn’t have long to ponder this question before Dabi picked you up and draped you over his shoulder. He held the back of your legs tightly while carrying you across the room. At this angle you finally got to look at your surroundings, you were in a cozy little bar. The room was filled with cigarette smoke and there was soft music playing. As you were carried out of the room you saw the man with a hand for a face sitting at the bar, whisky in hand, his pinky in the air while he held the glass. Only now, the hand that was on his face was placed on the bar top as you would place your wallet or car keys on an ordinary night out drinking. He watched you in silence while Dabi carried you away into the darkness. His hair fell too low past his eyes for you to be able to see any more of his face. He was still such a mystery to you. 

Dabi carried you past the bar curtains and down a long dark hallway. You wanted to talk to him but you knew that whatever questions you asked, he probably wouldn’t answer. Annoying him wasn’t in your best interest. It was at this moment that you noticed he wasn’t the same man that carried you in earlier. Whoever, or whatever they were, were on a much bigger scale. Their steps were pounding, unlike Dabi’s only slightly heavy steps. It seemed like Dabi could be sneaky if he wanted to. Maybe he felt comfortable here? Maybe these people were his family? You didn’t get a chance to overanalyze before you were pulled out of your head by Dabi dropping you to your feet. He started pushing you through a door and you silently obeyed. You were still facing him and behind him was what looked like a bedroom, there was a bed on the floor in the corner and blackout curtains over the windows. There was scattered trash everywhere and the room was lit only by a single blue UV light that was fixed over a snake terrarium. 

“C’mon, stop wasting time,” he finally spoke as he grabbed your shoulders to spin you around towards the bathroom. Once you had your back towards him you looked up at the mirror across from the door and went wide-eyed. You panicked falling backward into Dabi causing him to trip and fall back into the room, you landed in between his legs and immediately started crying into his chest. Your arms were still bound together so you weren’t able to hug yourself and curl into a ball like you so badly wanted to. Dabi was extremely confused and annoyed at this point, he huffed as he got back up and manhandled you into going back into the bathroom. You cried, kicked, and screamed but it was no use. Dabi was stronger and dragged you along with him. He took out a knife and cut the bounds that held your wrists together before he shoved you into the bathtub. You fell to your knees in the tub and just stared at your hands, tears still streaming down your face. 

“Stop being a brat! What’s wrong? Huh?” he raised his voice at you, he couldn’t believe he was the one who got stuck with this job. 

The room was filled with silence, only your sniffles filled the awkward tension in the cold tub. “I-I don’t recognize who that was in the mirror. I don’t think I remember who I am. I’ve been trying to think of my name since arriving here and I can��t…” You managed to get out through broken cries. “Did something happen to me? Who am I?” you finally looked up at the man covered in staples. His face was neutral but once he locked eyes with you his face softened in the slightest. He looked away and sighed before kneeling down so that the two of you were face to face, inches apart. 

“Listen, sweetheart, I don’t have all the answers… I’m just following orders.” his voice was low and gruff, you could tell he wasn’t lying to you. He scanned your face and gathered that you weren’t satisfied with that answer, it only sturred more confusion for you. “All I know is that the league kidnapped you for your quirk and that your name is Y/N,” your eyes left your hands to look at him, your sweet, tear-filled eyes met his pained ones and over the course of this conversation he seemed to become more gentle with you. You weren’t sure why that was but that’s not important right now. He is answering your questions which means he is proving to at least be a trusted ally… for now. 

“Y/N?” you repeated after him, it sounded foreign on your tongue. None of this was making sense to you. With a confused look you met Dabi’s eyes once more, “What is a ‘league’ and..” you paused before asking, just to be sure that you couldn’t remember, “Dabi, what’s my quirk?” you pouted. Tears started streaming down your face once more. You couldn’t remember anything and it was tearing you apart inside. Dabi looked at you with pity, he didn’t always feel bad for others, especially with how everyone treated him and cast him out of society, but right now, at this moment he actually felt sorry for you. Part of Dabi also envied you, he would give anything to forget everything like you have. Even if only for a little bit. Dabi was pulled from his thoughts when you repeated his name, “Dabi?” 

“I, uh… we are a group called the league of villains,” he quickly brushed over that part so that you wouldn’t panic again but to his surprise, you didn’t, you just listened to him carefully, “Shigaraki wanted you for your healing abilities, I don’t know the details of your quirk but that's all that I know.” 

Healing abilities? Shigaraki? Was that the leader’s name? God, why couldn’t you remember anything? This was all so frustrating. You sat in the tub, cold, exhausted, and in pain. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your temple, brushing the hair away from your face. Dabi was moving the hair from your blooded side to get a better look at the gash. He moved in closer to your face and adjusted your head downwards, at this angle you were so close to his neck. You stared at his Adam's apple while he tilted your head at different angles, examining you. He smelt like cigarette smoke, fire, and leather. It wasn't a bad combination but it definitely suited him. 

“I think you losing your memory has something to do with this,” he poked at the gash in your head and you winced. Dabi grabbed your chin to get a good look into your eyes. “Yeah, your pupils are two different sizes, that’s not good.” You couldn’t help but look at his staples, at this close proximity all you wanted to do was touch them, run your fingers over them and ask him about how he became this way, why he joined the league in the first place but you stopped yourself. 

“Wait, what do you mean that’s not good?” your voice betraying you, accidentally letting the worry seep through. 

“I don’t know, kid, I’m not a doctor.” Dabi lets go of your chin and stands up. Hovering over you, he takes the shower head and yanks it down so that it's closer to your head. He squats once again in front of you and leans over to turn the water on. On the other end of the tub, he checks to make sure the water is warm before bringing it back to you. The stream hits your gash and at first it stings but then you sink into the warm water and it feels really nice. You close your eyes and let all the dried-up blood run down your face and rinse out of your hair. Dabi watches as you lose yourself in the feeling, he has to hold back the urge to run his hands through your hair to give you a proper bath and massage your scalp. He feels bad for being the reason you lost your memory. If you hadn’t headbutted him so hard when he met you in those woods. He told Shigaraki that he wasn’t going to play nice. You’re the enemy, you work alongside heroes. Well, you didn’t know that, right? He didn’t expect you to be like this. Your memory is gone. Dabi could shape you into the perfect villain with Shigaraki’s help. You unconsciously smile up at him while he’s thinking about all the ways of making you evil. He nearly drops the shower head. There it is, a smile. Your smile. Oh no, Dabi couldn’t take this. He didn’t like the feeling that he just felt in the pit of his stomach. He shoves the shower head into your palm and walks away. He padlocks the bathroom door and takes off down the hall with his hands in his pockets. Dabi loudly knocks on his boss's bedroom door and is met with an exhausted and annoyed Shigaraki. His collection of hands splayed on his desk behind him and his face droops in exhaustion. “What is it Dabi? Have you fixed her up yet?” he wipes his eyes and yawns, it is now clear that Dabi had woken his boss up from sleeping. 

“She doesn’t remember who she is. She suffered a bad head injury and didn’t even know what her quirk was. I think we can use this to our advantage.” Dabi lowers his voice, not wanting to alarm the others. 

“I see, very well then..” Shigaraki thinks for a moment before talking again, “but if she doesn’t remember how to use her quirk and is no longer of use to the league. I’ll dust her,” he responds with a slightly menacing grin. “I don’t care where she sleeps but don’t let her out of your sight, she's your responsibility tonight.”  Dabi nods and makes his way back down the hallway. He stops by Toga’s room grabbing some clothes for you to change into. Toga offered to help but Dabi told her to stay away from you or he’d roast her.

Once he’s back in his room he takes off his overcoat and unlocks the door to the bathroom. “You left me,” you say looking up at him with a pitiful look in your eyes. The shower was still going but you were just sitting there, not holding on to the shower head anymore. Dabi walks over and turns off the shower. 

“I went to grab you some clothes.” he hands you a towel, it was not very clean but you suppose anything was better than nothing. You flip your head and start towel drying your hair and immediately regret it. Ow, fuck, that hurts. “You’re hurting yourself more, come here stupid,” Dabi demands and you get out of the tub to stand directly in front of him. His height made him tower over you, which was also good for him so that he could get a better look at your head. He gently patted the area and handed you Toga’s clothes once your hair was no longer drenched, “Get dressed, and then I have to patch you up.” With that, he exited the room. You looked at the outfit that was handed to you, a black t-shirt and some yellow shorts with strawberries on them, it’ll work for the night. You opened the door and Dabi had his back facing you. You noticed he wasn’t wearing the black overcoat anymore. Just a black t-shirt and his dark pants. He looked over his shoulder at you so you could just see the bridge of his nose, his hair fell on the side of his face, probably from the humidity of the bathroom. In the blue lighting, he looked much more brooding than before, his face turned down. “You ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” you replied unsurely, you really didn’t know how bad your cut was but you decided against better judgment, to trust Dabi. He had you sit on the toilet seat cover so that he could work on your head. He used alcohol and steri-strips. He was pretty good at this, your cut barely hurt when he touched it. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t have to use staples or stitch you up. That would’ve been a pain in the ass.” he lightly chucked and it made your heart flutter. You couldn’t help but stare at him, although you were the one who was vulnerable in this state, it seemed as though he also let his guard down a bit. “Done.” he lets out a huff before backing away from you to get a good look at his handy work. You were now sitting on the toilet legs criss crossed and the big t-shirt draped over your knees. Dabi didn’t allow his eyes to go any lower.

“So what now?” you ask, staring up at him like a lost puppy. You needed direction. Not remembering who you were, how to use your quirk, not even remembering your name, what you looked like. You felt lost and right now, Dabi was the only person you felt you could trust.

“I guess for tonight, you’re my responsibility,” he was looking into your eyes now, those piercingly blue eyes, heavily lidded with something you couldn’t decipher. Tiredness, maybe?

“Okay.” 

You follow Dabi back into his bedroom, the blue light is flickering in the corner above the terrarium, and everything else is in the shadows. You were able to see the creature now, it was an albino python, it menacingly slithered to the top, hitting its head on the glass, aching to escape. You wondered if that’s how you should feel, being here, with these people. Why are you not afraid of them? Shigaraki asked why you weren’t scared and you didn’t have an answer. They’re all strangers but you don’t feel frightened in their presence. Dabi pulls you out of your thoughts when you hear a metallic click, “Woah, wait, what are you doing?” Your heart is racing, you don't want to be bound again. Your wrists are still sore from before, why did he have to handcuff you?

“Relax doll,” Dabi takes the other handcuff and attaches it to his own wrist, bounding the two of you together instead. He takes the key and drops it into the snake’s cage. “I can’t let you out of my sight, this is the only way I can get some sleep too.” You didn’t like this. It’s not like the thought of escaping hasn’t crossed your mind but where would you go? You didn’t even know where you lived or if you had a cellphone. The best idea was to just stay put. Dabi climbs into his bed and shuffles under the blanket. You’re still standing a few feet from the bed, as much as yours and his wing span allow. His arm is floating above his head still attached to you, “Are you coming or what?” he retorts, you couldn’t really see him but you could hear it in his voice that he was liking this. 

“No way, I’ll sleep on the floor,” you started lowering yourself when Dabi yanks you into bed with him, catching you in his chest. It was honestly annoying how comfortable this was. Your head was under his chin and your arms were above your head, being used as pillows. Your eyes quickly got heavy and you could feel the sleep washing over you. Dabi adjusted the blanket so that it covered you both. 

“So, you don't want to be a brat anymore?” he chuckled slightly and you could feel his chest rise and fall beneath you. Your body was so worn out, and you were still so cold. Maybe from the loss of blood or maybe because your hair was still wet, you couldn’t decipher it. The only thing you knew was that Dabi was so warm. Your teeth started jittering uncontrollably. Dabi must’ve noticed because he took his free hand and set it on top of your bare thigh. You didn’t have any fight left in you to argue with him. Accepting your fate you nuzzled deeper into his chest, eliciting a blush from Dabi. “Here, I can help…” his voice slightly above a whisper sending chills down your spine. You weren’t sure what he meant but not too long after you felt heat radiate from his palm. Almost immediately you stopped jittering. This must be his quirk. You hum in comfort and cuddle deeper into Dabi’s chest without thinking.

As you close your eyes you could feel Dabi’s breathing start to steady, his free arm moved up until it was draped over your waist as he held you close to him. There was one question still stirring in your mind, “Hey…” you started, Dabi hummed in acknowledgment, “Was I a hero or a villain before I lost my memory?” there was a long pause, you figured he just fell asleep but then,

“You were a vigilante, that's why we had to kidnap you, you didn’t join us willingly” the lie rolled so smoothly off his tongue, he had you right where he wanted you. Like a mouse cornered by a snake. “Can any other questions wait until tomorrow?” 

“Sure, goodnight Dabi,” and just like that, he was out like a light. You followed suit and drifted soundly to sleep in his arms. 

The throbbing pain emitting from your skull wakes you up. There’s no telling what time of day it is. The room is still very dark but when your eyes finally adjust you notice a small amount of sun peaking through the black-out curtains at the end of the bed. You remember everything from yesterday but when you try to think of anything before that you are left with nothing but a pounding headache. You extend your arm to try and soothe the ache coming from your head when you realize you’re still handcuffed to a scarred and stapled hand. A loud thud from the bar pulls your attention and is followed by loud voices traveling down the hallway creating a doppler effect. To your surprise, when you look back over toward your wrist you see that Dabi was still sleeping. His face was directly in front of yours, he looked so blissful while he slept. It was as if all his pain was washed away. Letting your eyes trail down his body you see that your leg is draped over his waist and his hand is tightly holding the back of your thigh as if you’d disappear if he let go. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. When you pulled your leg away Dabi jolted awake and sat up in bed, yanking you along with him. You were pulled into his lap and the two of you were tangled in the sheets. Ouch. The tension of the handcuff was starting to hurt your already bruised wrist causing you to wince in pain.

“I thought we were being attacked,” Dabi’s morning voice was hoarse and deep. He groaned as he rubbed his eyes awake, careful to not pull out his staples. He had tugged you close to him accidentally, close enough now to where your head is placed near his heart. His heart was racing. This made you feel bad for startling him. 

“I don’t know if we are, there was a loud bang and people yelling outside the door.” you retort, looking up at him and finally seeing those piercing blue eyes again. He looks down at you, meeting your eyes. His hair is all fluffy and messy. Despite that, he looks much more rested than yesterday, you wonder if you look rough or well-rested also. After seeing yourself in the mirror yesterday, you decided you didn’t want to know. Another loud thump coming from the bar causes Dabi to actually jump out of bed this time, dragging you along with him. This is when you notice that he is not wearing pants. He was just in black boxer shorts and a black tee. When did he take his pants off? There’s no time for questions as he pulls you within arm's length behind him, straining your already bruised wrist. Waddling behind his pale legs you keep having to catch yourself because you’re tripping over something. The blanket is bundled around your ankles and your free arm has the blanket wrapped around your torso. With all the commotion and Dabi not stopping, you figured it was easier to run with the blanket than try to untangle yourself. When you enter the bar you see Toga, the blonde girl from before standing on the bar top. There’s a man in a black and white skin-tight spandex suit trying to catch her. Her laugh fills the bar and you realize they’re playing tag. There’s a broken wine bottle on the floor which must’ve been one of the noises you heard from the bedroom. In the corner of the bar, you see who you now know to be the League’s leader, Shigaraki, sitting by himself sipping on something dark. Isn’t it the morning, why is he drinking so early? Well, I suppose there’s nothing better to do. There is a dark cloud figure with a purple aura behind the bar, they seem to be drying off glassware with a white rag. You’re a little confused by what they are, they’re dressed in a nice vest and black dress pants. Their neck is encapsulated in a metallic cone. Yellow eyes stare directly back at you. 

“Well, good morning love birds!” Toga sings with a sadistic grin creeping across her face. She then jumps off the bar top into the other league members' arms, he spins her around before setting her down. 

Dabi looks away from them, not wanting to acknowledge her comment. When you look down at your feet covered in a blanket and back at Dabi in boxers handcuffed to you, you realize this is suggesting only one thing.

“Oh, no, no, no, we didn’t…” you plead by shaking your hands, your eyes shifting back and forth from Toga to Shigaraki who looks like he does not care to be a part of this conversation. He is facing away from everything, quietly sipping his glass before setting it down on the table in front of him. His annoyance takes over and he gets up slowly to make his way over to you and Dabi.

“Oooo, someone’s in trouble” Toga adds, still smiling. 

You’re too nervous to look him in the eyes as he walks over to you both. His presence is menacing and makes you uneasy. He walks up to Dabi and speaks directly to him, completely ignoring your presence. You finally look over at him and for the first time you see his eyes and they are almost more piercing than Dabi’s, there’s so much pain and numbness behind them and you can feel every bit of it. They’re the opposite color of Dabi’s, a deep red, very fitting for someone like him. He doesn’t take his eyes off Dabi while he continues to ignore you. To your surprise, he doesn’t actually scare you despite the tear rolling down your face betraying your feelings. Shigaraki is a force to be reckoned with, you can feel the power radiating from him. The others must either fear him or know the destruction he can cause at a whim. He is also so much taller than you expected him to be, his stature making him that much more terrifying.

“Don’t blame her for any of this. I handcuffed her so I could finally get some sleep.” Dabi tsked and looked away from him annoyed, not actually wanting to say anything but instead he stood up for you. Shigaraki didn’t change anything about his position, his eyes panned their way to yours threatening you with just a look, a silent conversation between the two of you. He crept low to meet your ear, your breath escaping you when he got closer.

“I brought you here to heal my comrades, not fuck them.” his voice barely above a whiny but stern whisper and loud enough so that Dabi could hear. He sounded cold, this made you feel like you were already on his bad side and your eyes widened in worry. But, you do have a healing quirk? That confirms it. He stands to his full height once more equally as terrifying as before. Still handcuffed to Dabi, you wanted to wipe the tear that rolled down your cheek but you couldn’t.

This time Dabi raised his voice, startling you. “Who cares if we did,” He turns his body, done with this interrogation and ready to drag you back to the bedroom. He looks back at his leader over his shoulder, “You didn’t claim her, so what does it matter?” a small grin appears on his face, if you weren’t already looking at him you wouldn’t have noticed this in the tone of his voice. It almost feels like this is his way of laying claim to you now. First, before Shigaraki can.

“You’ll soon learn that everything here is mine,” Shigaraki replies nonchalantly before walking back over to his spot in the corner booth. It seems like he doesn’t care either way. You have no choice but to follow Dabi back to the bedroom, tripping over the blanket down the hallway once more. Holding the chain of the handcuff to keep the pressure off your wrist, you walk forward looking back, not taking your eyes off Shigaraki. Healing quirk? Everything here is his? Does he think you and Dabi had sex? Great. More confusing than just losing your memory.

When you enter Dabi’s bedroom once more you’re finally hit with the realization that you’re still attached to him. “Can you please unhandcuff me?” you ask flatly, standing in his room feeling small and confused. You’re not guilty of what Shigaraki made it seem like you were and for some reason now you were thinking about actually sleeping with Dabi. Would you? No, No, you shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. “Please,” you beg once more when you notice him just staring at you, this time you gave him a look of defeat.

“C’mon princess, why don’t we just sleep the rest of the day away?” he shrugs, his tone matching his seriousness. He slowly pulls you over to the bed with him using the shackles of the cuffs. You obey tiredly, not wanting or willing to fight him. The exhaustion sets on your face. “Fine, but if you try to run away just know... I’m fast,” Dabi looks at you with a soft gaze, his attempt at getting a laugh from you failed. Instead, he goes to rub your jaw where his boss left a mark last night but you yank away before he gets the chance. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to check your cut from yesterday,” he plays off your rejection so smoothly. He sits on the bed and you’re standing inches away from him. This time you let him grab your face, inspecting your head gash that he fixed up the night before. You have no reason not to trust him at the moment.

“Dabi, I can’t remember anything about who I was or how to use my quirk… I don't feel very useful... What should I do?” your voice comes out much smaller than you meant for it to, worry takes over your face and your eyes wet your cheeks. Dabi gently rubs your temple as you speak to him in such a pitiful way. He’s not trying to be sweet, really he isn’t, but for some reason, he is with you. His intrusive thoughts invade him. He wants to tell you everything will be okay and hold you until you feel better. He’s starting to notice how much of a toll you’re taking on him. That’s enough, he thinks. He jerks his hand away from your temple and pulls away from the physical touch completely. 

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” he tsks. He sounds annoyed now. “If I were in your shoes, I would see this as an opportunity to start over. Completely, with no regrets about the past. What have you always wanted to do?” he asks while staring at the wall. Anything to keep his eyes off of you at this moment. He spreads his legs and leans back in the bed, trying his best to keep his mind preoccupied. Your sniffles come to a stop while you ponder that question. What have you always wanted to do? That should be something written in your DNA, right? Something that would never change, no matter how few memories you have of yourself. While you’re thinking, you let your exhaustion take over and slide down to sit on your knees so that you’re almost positioned between Dabi’s legs. He must’ve noticed this because he releases a big sigh like he had been holding his breath. Dabi is frozen and doesn’t know what your intentions are.

“I’ve always wanted peace. I’m not sure if that’s a dumb answer but I’ve only ever wanted to bring about peace and protect people. The ones that can’t protect themselves anyways,” you say with wide glossy eyes, the passion of your statement seeping from your voice. The rehearsed line left your lips so easily as if it were a memory that was beaten into you without you even knowing. Like something your marketing team would tell you to say in an interview, like something that wasn’t true. After your little peace speech, your eyes meet Dabi’s who were already locked onto you. His gaze softened as if he were staring at a sleeping puppy. If you didn’t know any better you would think it was more in awe than in pity. He notices that he’s been looking at you far too long so he clears his throat and looks away. If his cheeks weren’t already covered in scars and staples, you would’ve gained a small blush from the man.

“You sound like a goody two shoes.” Dabi retorts, slapping his knees while simultaneously getting up off the bed. This signals you to leave the comfort of the floor and your comfortable spot in between his legs. The motion of standing up quickly really hurts your head. Your heartbeat pounds at the sides of your skull. “If we’re not going to go back to sleep then I’m leaving, I have to take care of some things anyways. I’ll bring you to Toga or Twice. They can watch you for the day,” his voice now monotone when he speaks, refusing to look at you. He moves in front of you and a pout crosses your face. He is the only one you can trust right now if you could even call it that. Dabi then reaches over your shoulder to grab the key out of the snake’s cage. You don’t turn around to follow his hand, instead, you watch his body and see that his black T-shirt is all worn out, probably from washing it and hanging it up to dry too many times, leaving the material stretched and wrinkled. The once v-neck of the shirt leaves his chest exposed showing off his equally scared and stapled chest. He is more defined than you thought he would be, his pecs and arms having more muscle than he lets off. Right above his right pec where his shoulder meets his clavicle you notice a large bruise right before the start of his scarred and stapled chest. You feel responsible for this injury but you don’t know why. Your face is burning up the longer you stare at him. In the back of your mind, you have the urge to get closer to him, to close the gap between your bodies. 

Dabi follows your eyes to his chest while uncuffing you from him, “Like I said, we could stay in bed all day princess,” his voice comes out gruff trying to break the tension. 

“Did I do this?” you ignore his comment, slowly raising your uncuffed hand to his chest to rub the bruise with your thumb.

“Yeah”

Dabi stares at you while you stare at the bruise.

“I’m sorry”

“No, don’t sweat it. I was the one kidnapping you, remember? I would’ve hurt me too. Plus, I think I owe you an apology for that gnarly head injury and erasing your memories…”

“No, no, it’s ok” you let a little bit of sadness sneak into your soft smile, “I am part of the league now so I should probably get to know the rest of its members and be a part of this group,” you practically ignored his apology. Part of you does want to crawl in bed with Dabi and just sleep the day away, after all, your head is pounding but it's smarter to start trying to figure out what you’re doing here and remember who you are. Maybe talking to someone other than Dabi will help.

Dabi drops you off at Toga’s room which is surprisingly cute despite how scary she can be. There are posters of boys all over her walls, no heroes though, mostly just boy bands. There are neon lights hanging around the room, a small tv, and even a few dying plants in the corner. There are even cute strawberry sheets on her bed that's covered in stuffed animals. You find her sitting down on the floor next to her bed painting her nails when you enter the room. The man you learned to be Twice is also on the floor next to her laying down on his stomach with both of his feet kicking in the air as he watches her paint her nails. You feel a little awkward especially since Dabi didn’t really introduce you, he sort of just pushed you in and disappeared.

“Oh, Medela! Come sit, I’ll paint your nails,” Toga’s signature creepy smile appears once again on her lips. She stands up and grabs your hand to guide you down to where they were sitting previously. You didn’t really have a choice so you sat down next to twice uncomfortably. Toga aggressively grabs your hand and starts painting your nails pink.

“Medela?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Togaaa, we weren’t supposed to tell her that...” Twice looked at her through his mask, “YES WE WERE!” He suddenly yells, causing you to jump back. “Sorry, that was the other me…” he returns to a normal voice and apologizes sweetly. You give him a fake smile and go back to looking at Toga.

She considers him for a moment and decides to look up at you instead, “Yeah, that's your hero name silly! Don’t you remember?” she says in a sing-songy voice moving onto your thumb. 

“No actually, I don’t..” you sigh loudly, more to yourself than to Toga. She doesn’t even seem to care about your answer because she goes on humming to herself as she sloppily paints a bright pink across your bitten nail beds. After your nails are done but still drying, Toga gets up to turn on a few lamps to illuminate her bedroom. It was getting dark outside so there was no more light coming from her window. The league must be on different sleep schedules because the day went by so fast, meaning you and Dabi probably woke up in the late afternoon. Twice left a little bit ago and Toga is staring blankly at the TV watching what looks like a romance anime. As you were staring at your nails, inspecting how poorly she painted them you heard a thud coming from the bar. You look at Toga in fear but she doesn’t even move a muscle, still glued to her TV. When you hear a second thud you get up quickly to go check it out, not really thinking about how earlier in the day the thuds were nothing but Toga and Twice playing tag. Maybe it's curiosity or maybe it's your second nature, but you were already halfway down the hallway when you heard a man’s voice. Something about it seemed familiar, almost like you had heard it in a recording before but you couldn’t remember.

“The word hero has lost all meaning in this society, the world is overrun by fakes and criminals like you who chase petty dreams,” you reach the end of the hall and can no longer tell what the man is saying but then you recognize Shigaraki’s voice so you pull back slightly at the curtain in the doorway between the bar and the hall, trying not to be seen or heard. You can hardly see past the booths, but what you do see is a tall figure with a white mask over his eyes and a long red bandana tied to his forehead pinning down Shigaraki with what looks like an old katana. The katana is going through Shigaraki’s shoulder and this makes your eyes widen, he’s hurting him. 

“It seems we have opposing goals,” Shigaraki’s voice comes out breathy, confirming that he was hurt. He goes to grab the katana with his bare hands making you flinch at the sight. He needs help, he's getting desperate. Maybe you can distract the perpetrator? 

“Stop, you’re killing him!” you bust through the curtain, not really sure what to do from here but you're hoping maybe one of the others will come running if they hear. Shigaraki rolls his head back to look at you through the hand covering his face. The man hovering over him looks up at you and pulls out another bladed weapon. 

“You had a hero here the whole time? I thought you hated heroes as much as I do,” he said to Shigaraki while taking you in, you weren’t in your hero costume but he recognized your face. “Now you’re a tricky one, but alas, you’re still nothing but a false hero,” he runs at you and you have to think quickly so you take off towards the bar, to maybe use the bar top to your advantage. You’re still looking at Shigaraki who realizes what's happening and lays his final finger down on the blade that is still impaled in his chest. The blade that was so deep in his chest cavity dissipates and turns to dust. With wide eyes you finally understand why everyone is so scared of him, he completely dusted the sword. He would’ve been completely fine fighting this strange man by himself. You shouldn’t have intervened. As you’re piecing this puzzle together you jump on top of the bar, the man who is chasing you swings his sword, and you duck, causing him to hit the bar top with his blade, the wood splinters and flies everywhere. He jumps on the counter to get closer to you so you run and jump to a booth across from the bar trying your hardest to get away from him. You don’t have any weapons and this man is trying to kill you, it sucks that you can't remember what your quirk is. A dead end, you’re cornered, and for some reason you picked the corner booth with nowhere else to go. Probably because you were distracted by Shigaraki’s quirk. You contemplate going back the way you came but you would be greeted with the man’s sword and to your left is a wall. Great, you’re going to die because you can’t remember how to fight. What the fuck do you do now? Standing on top of the table prepared to fight back in order to survive as if your fight or flight response is finally kicking in. When you turn around to face the bar, the strange man is positioning his sword, ready to take flight with a jump and go for the kill. Your body tenses and you’re ready for what happens when suddenly Shigaraki steps between the both of you with his back facing you. He’s bleeding out slowly, both of his shoulders are covered in blood and it's starting to soak his shirt. He held his arms out to defend you. The movement of his arms makes him whimper softly in pain. He no longer had the hand covering his face, he abandoned it on the ground where he was laying only moments ago. 

Shigaraki chuckles, his laugh breathless and manic. “Hero Killer Stain,” he moves his palm to position it in front of the man attacking you. “Touch her” he pauses to take a small breath, “and I will destroy you,” he stands up straight and takes a step back closing the gap between him and the table you’re standing on. 

The hero killer steps off the bar and sheaths his sword. “Oh I see, so you’re a traitor to the heroes then, so tell me what cause do you fight for?” he grins, excited about you possibly having the same ideals as him. 

“My cause,” Shigaraki hisses without giving you a moment to respond. He sounds irritated which you’re now learning is probably just a personality trait of his. “I think it's about time you leave, don’t you? Kurogiri, take this guy back…” The warp villain creates a portal in front of the hero killer and he accepts his dismissal.

“Fine. Just don’t get in my way,” he states coldly without looking back at you or Shigaraki.

You take a moment to catch your breath and jump down from the table. Shigaraki hunches over in pain and Kurogiri excuses himself to gather some bandages. “Thanks for not letting him kill me, I thought I was done for,” you shyly cross your arms at your wrists fidgeting with the still-wet paint on your nails that Toga messed up. It dawns on you that you’re now alone with the leader. He doesn’t reply and walks over to the barstool taking a seat at the bar. You don’t want to pry but you feel like you should at least assess his wounds, especially since Kurogiri is taking forever. “Can I see how bad they are?” you speak out to him once more, not actually expecting a verbal response from him this time.

“Do you remember how to use your quirk?” he didn’t look at you when he said this but for once he didn’t sound completely annoyed with you and his voice came out soft. He must really be in pain. 

“No,” you give him a short reply, taking a seat on the barstool to the left of him.

“Then no,” his voice still soft but not as gentle as a moment ago. He takes a sip from his glass that somehow survived the bar fight. He was staring at nothing in particular but was still facing away from you. You watched him shakily take another sip of his dark liquor, missing his mouth a bit causing it to drip down his chin. This is the first time you’ve actually been able to look at him without any distractions. His nose was sharp and his skin was pale and dry. He had a small scar across his lips that paired with a beauty mark to the right of his bottom lip. On top of that, he also had a really defined jawline. His light, gray-blue hair fell perfectly to the sides of his face, only covering parts of his eyes, and framing his face in a way that complimented his cheekbones. In this bar lighting, he almost looked handsome which totally puzzled you. He is not what you expected from the leader of a villainous organization. 

“It’s worth a try, what if I remember at the sight of blood?” you giggle a bit not even meaning to, you’re just so nervous. This elicited a teeny-tiny smile from the big, bad leader. If you weren’t already staring at him you would’ve missed it so you’re so glad you were. Where his smile ends, he had a little dimple at the corner of his mouth. You’re not sure if many people get to see this side of him so it almost felt precious.

“Fine, but it better not sting,” he downs the rest of his liquor and swings his bar stool to finally face you. You’re now sitting face to face which brings heat to your cheeks and you can’t help but avoid eye contact. When he shifts closer your mouth twitches and you’re trying so hard not to appear as nervous as you are. He brings his body even closer to you and pulls down his long sleeve black shirt at the collar, just enough for you to see the front of his stab wound. It was as bad as it looked. You squirm at the thought of the sword stabbing him. 

“Your quirk is honestly really cool,” you comment slightly above a whisper. Then you inspect his chest by bringing your hands to his clavicle and pull at the skin lightly to see how deep it is. He shivers at the touch of your cold hands causing you to pull back a little to be more gentle. 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you still had your memory,” his whiny tone returns, and his voice cracks a little, revealing his vulnerable side.

“Hold still,” you ignore his previous comment, and instead you really focus on trying to use your quirk. It can’t be that hard, can it? Muscle memory and quirks have to go hand in hand, right? Shigaraki stares at you as you close your eyes and enter a meditative state, curiosity plastered across his face. Your bare hands are still on his shoulder and he isn’t sure how to feel about it. He doesn’t really receive much physical touch and since he doesn’t have the best control over his quirk he usually avoids situations like this. While you’re channeling your quirk he takes this moment to fully take you in. His eyes scan over your entire body, head to toe. You’re still in Toga’s cute yellow shorts with little strawberries on them. To Shigaraki it looks like you don’t have pants on, just an oversized black T-shirt which is probably Dabi's or Twice’s, he thinks. This turns his face red so he quickly retracts his eyes from your thighs. He scans your knees which are covered in bruises. This is probably from your battle with Dabi and his Nomu when he had them kidnap you. Maybe he should feel bad about this, he thinks. He lets himself linger on the thought of you fighting Dabi, angrily with haste spilling from your teeth. For some reason, he can’t imagine you in fight mode, using everything you’ve got on the battlefield especially since you just ran from the fight with Stain. Still thinking about your fight with Dabi, he finds it odd that you guys seem so friendly with each other now. He doesn’t like it but he won’t admit it. His eyes finally reach your face again and it's all scrunched up like you’re really trying to remember how to use your quirk. He finds this humorous and for the second time that night he smiles, it’s small, almost nonexistent but it's still there. Your eyes open and instead of the eyes he’s stared into before, Shigaraki is met with two glowing white irises. Your hair starts floating as if you were suspended under water. Shigaraki freezes as you get closer to his face. You shut your eyes and as if it were instinctual you go to place your forehead on his. He pulls back a little at first but thinks he probably shouldn’t move so he allows you to fall into him. He scrunches up his face thinking it would feel like a headbutt. Instead, he is met with the sweet smell of your lips only a few inches away from his own. You smell like strawberries, he thinks. It almost felt like you paused time making him feel ethereal and calm for the first time in his life. It takes a moment but you heal both of his shoulder wounds. “Woah, I did it,” you practically squeak in excitement. 

He rolls his shoulders back fully testing out the range of motion. His pain was gone, you even managed to heal some of the cuts on his neck from frantically itching earlier that night. “So you did,” he acknowledged your excitement but didn’t go as far as saying thank you. He felt weird after being in such close proximity. “Okay, we’ve had our fun,” Shigaraki stands up and positions his shirt back to normal, “I’m going to bed.” without even as much as a glance at you he starts heading to the back of the bar. 

“Wait!” you shout, trying to stop him. Part of you craves attention that he refuses to give you. You’re not sure why but you chase him. He’s already almost in front of the curtain so when you catch up to him you reach out to grab his wrist. Bad Idea. Shigaraki doesn’t like the sudden physical touch and swings around to grab your neck, once he has you he’s not being careful about laying all five fingers down. You gulp when you remember this is the hand he used to dust Stain’s sword. He still doesn’t trust you. Of course he doesn’t, why would he? Your efforts to heal him were pointless. You’re right back where you started this “relationship” with him, or whatever you want to call it. You’re suspended in the air and losing oxygen quickly. You try to loosen his grip by clawing at his forearms. The way he’s staring at you is different than before though, almost like he doesn’t want to be aggressive with you right now even though he is. That’s gotta mean something, right?

“Shi-Shigaraki, please,” you plead as much as you can with the little amount of oxygen in your lungs. There’s sweat rolling off his forehead, you think that he is really contemplating ending your life right here. 

“Hey, let her go,” a familiar voice was coming from the front door. Dabi. Thank god, he’s back. You’re so thankful you could cry. “Right now or I will light your ass up,” he threatens again when Shigaraki doesn’t immediately let you go. The league's leader tilts his head at you like a curious dog, his angry eyes replaced with wonder when he sees that your eyes are glowing again. Why are your eyes glowing again? When he looks down at his hand around your throat he sees all five of his fingers making contact. He didn’t even mean to almost dust you, he really didn’t. He freezes, this time he listens to Dabi and releases you from his death grip. You drop to your knees and cough until your lungs allow air back into them. While you’re desperately sucking in air, your eyes return to their normal color. Shigaraki doesn’t help you up, instead he turns on his heel and leaves the room through the curtain. 

“She shares a room with Toga from now on.” The leader doesn’t say another word in his exit. Neither you or Dabi acknowledge him either.

“What the hell was that about?” Dabi walks over to you and kneels down to meet your gaze. 

“He doesn’t like being touched I guess,” you retort and your eyes meet his. His eyes look red and there's dried blood below his scars. You wonder what happened to him while he was gone. 

“No, not that... he’s always like that, I mean your eyes,” he looks at you in wonder, “they were glowing,” Dabi must’ve not known who you were as a hero because your quirk came as a surprise to him. 

“Oh, I activated my quirk to heal Shigaraki,” you replied nonchalantly as you dusted your knees off to stand up.

“Does that mean you got your memory back?” he asks lowly while running his hands through his hair. He’s still kneeled on the ground so you’re now standing above him. He looks kind of small at this angle, not like his usual dangerous self.

“No,” you sigh, it was honestly getting quite annoying not being able to remember anything. “My quirk came rushing back when I needed it so I’m hoping my memory does the same soon,” your voice trails off when you watch Dabi rise to his full height. He has a bag in his right hand that’s hidden partially behind his back. “What’s that?” you ask while leaning over to get a better look. He pulls the bag further behind him and hands it to you.

“Ah, ah, ah, it’s a surprise,” he cockily holds his arm out in front of you signaling you to back up so you do. You hold your arms behind your back swaying your feet excited to see what he brought back for you. “Toga didn’t have any more clothes to spare,” he’s taking too long to get to the point and you’re not a super patient person. “I’m not the best at picking out clothing for others but,” he finally hands you the bag and you excitedly shuffle through it trying not to be extremely loud. It was a big black trash bag filled with clothes. Some women's clothes and some were men’s clothing. You’re realizing now he must’ve stolen these, which honestly you didn’t really want to know if they were clean or not. Either way, it was a sweet gesture. 

“Thank you,” you smile sweetly at him and in return he looks away rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Yeah, whatever, don’t mention it,” he takes the bag back from you and throws it over his shoulder. He turns to walk out of the bar and so you follow suit. “I guess no more handcuffed sleepover’s for us princess.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle and continue walking down the hall to Toga’s room. Something about sleeping doesn’t sound too bad after the day you’ve had. You had such a weird encounter with Shigaraki. He could’ve killed you if you didn’t activate your quirk in time. Thinking back to his hands around your neck, you remember the tingling feeling his fingertips left behind. His quirk was working against yours, like a dominance battle to see whose quirk would give in first. You couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of his hands around your neck. Little did you know, Shigaraki couldn’t stop thinking about it either. That was the first time he was nullified by the person he was dusting. There obviously was the time where pro hero Eraser Head nullified his quirk but it was when he was attempting to dust someone else. This was different. He laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. When he couldn’t think about anything else, he pulled out one of hands from behind his head and reached for the ceiling holding it out in front of him. He examined his hand and noticed something by his wrist so he pulled his arm closer to his face, it was a smear of pink nail polish. The same pink nail polish Toga put on your nails earlier in the night. Shigaraki’s face went red but he didn’t try to scrape off the paint. Instead he held his hands over his stomach and drifted to sleep, thinking about your forehead pressed to his.