#[ ☆ if he's a serial killer: dabi ] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

missrosegold · 14 days

Text

someone new

Synopsis: Post-war!AU. It’s the quite moments that Touya enjoys the most. Sometimes he still has a hard time believing they’re real. That you are real.

He has no problems allowing you to remind him of the latter.

Word count: 16K

Paring: Dabi x Reader (fem!reader)

Warnings: Mentions of post surgical interventions, Touya has hints of survivors guilt and some suicidal idealization if you squint, Smut and additional warnings listed below and on A03 so Minors or Ageless Blogs please DNI. This is rated 18+

Playlist: Omar Apollo - Evergreen (You Didn't Deserve Me At All)

Authors notes: Written for @shibaraki Komorebi collab! Thanks for having me love! Hope you enjoy!

Title is from Someone New by Hozier

**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works onto my A03 account!

Sometimes Touya wonders how he got here.

It’s a loaded question and he knows as much. He knows exactly where he is, and he’s painfully aware of the series of events that led him to this moment in time – but he often finds himself struggling to believe it.

A part of him doesn’t want to believe it – a gnarled, still-angry part of what remains of his soul is convinced that it’s all part of some elaborate dream – one that will fade away and leave him alone and bitter once more as soon as he opens his eyes.

He falls asleep again and again, trying to prove his theory, but every time he wakes back up, he’s still in the same place:

He wakes up in your sun-lit apartment, more often in your bed, with you – always close by, never too far away.

It’s where he is even now: nestled into the soft sheets of your—no, the bed you shared together, even though it’s pushing noon on a Tuesday. Despite his body screaming at him to move, he can’t bring himself to get up just yet.

It’s not like it matters if he stays in bed anyways, he doesn’t have anywhere to be. He doesn’t have his court mandated therapy appointment until Thursday, and it’s not like he has a nine to five job like most people do. Christ, he can’t even leave your apartment building without you or a Pro-hero escort with him. (Who, ninety-five percent of the time ends up being Shoto, since he’s about the only person who wants to deal with him these days aside from you, his mom, and sometimes Fuyumi and Natsuo.)

He rolls over slightly and listens for you, trying to hear the tell-tale tread of your footsteps echoing through the halls, or the sound of you humming a gentle melody under your breath as you do your menial chores around the apartment; before it finally occurs to him that it’s a weekday and you’re at work.

He stifles a groan as he finally pushes himself up, and makes his way towards the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, flicking on the light and shutting the door behind him.

That was his biggest problem these days: not wondering when his next meal would be. Not obsessing over ruining his father’s life as he had done his. Not charring himself past the point of no return as a means of exacting vengeance upon the world of Pro Hero’s that had long since turned their backs on him. No. That was all in the past.

For the first time in his life, it was boredom that was getting to him.

That was a joke if he ever fucking heard one.

Looking at himself now it’s hard to believe that he was once a homicidal serial killer, with a rap sheet several miles long.

He looks different now. He fights the urge to snort as he turns away from his reflection in your bathroom mirror while he goes about his business.

Like a snake that sheds it’s skin every couple of years, he’s changed his form once again; though this transformation wasn’t up to him. He had no choice in the matter; what happened to him after the war was decided for him. His opinions be damned. (Though, if he thinks about it, he didn’t really give All For One and his fucked up scientist permission to piece him back together after he incinerated himself up the first time. The irony almost makes him laugh.)

He forces himself to face his reflection in the mirror as he begins the painstaking task of his skincare routine – burning turquoise eyes staring a little too long at who looks back at him.

The worst of his burn scars are gone, though the shadow of them remains. His two-toned flesh has been concealed by pale, raised skin, but he can still see the lines in his face from his first Escharotomy – a reminder of Dabi; always lingering, never fully gone, even if he wears a different face.

The rest of his body is like that as well. No longer is he marred by wicked burn scars and surgical staples; he is one even skin tone now. He is complete by all accounts, even though he feels anything but whole. The skin grafts aren’t perfect – they’re textured and prone to drying out, and the skin around his eyes always looks bloodshot – but for the first time in years, when he looks in the mirror; the person staring back at him actually looks like Touya.

It's not a perfect visual, but it’s still closer than he ever thought possible.

Truth be told, he still has a difficult time looking at himself in the mirror. It’s jarring honestly. He’d gotten so used to seeing the horrific scarring on himself, that seeing his reflection without them makes him feel like he’s staring at someone new.

The skin grafts he received at some point after his barely responsive body was all but dragged off the battle field, still itch sometimes, but he knows it’s all in his head. He can’t feel anything. He hasn’t been able to feel anything since he was discharged from the hospital he been taken to after he collapsed.

His memories of that time are hazy – he had been doped up on heavy narcotics and other nerve blockers as he was subjected to surgery after surgery in a desperate attempt to fix his scorched body – so much so, that he doesn’t know how long he was out for, or how much time passed while he was in recovery.

He remembers Shoto coming to visit him shortly after waking up from the worst of his many surgeries, and explaining that while the doctors had been able to successfully graft new skin onto him, (how his mangled body had been able to withstand another set of skin grafts was beyond him), they hadn’t been able to fix his damaged nerve endings, and had opted to cauterize the few that still worked; leaving him completely numb to any and all feeling.

Truthfully, he hadn’t cared at the time, he hadn’t been able to feel much of anything for years before that, and the little he was still able to feel was nothing but chronic pain, so at the time he has seen the news as a blessing.

And then he met you.

Shortly after that, he found himself cursing the fact that he couldn’t feel anything at all.

-----

He remembers the first time he met you.

After he had been cleared to leave the hospital, he had been taken to a heavily fortified psychiatric ward, eerily similar to the med-bay in Tartarus: all sterile white walls and armed guards. His room hadn’t been much better: just a mid-sized white box with a cot and a small window for him to look out of, though there wasn’t much of a view outside. He had no idea where the fuck he was anyways.

There he had started his rehabilitation.

It was hell. The first few months he spent there, he adamantly refused to speak to any of the doctors or physiatrists who came to work with him. Some were more persistent than others, poking their nose into his past (like he hadn’t just aired his dirty laundry out for all of Japan to witness), and those were the ones he got pissed off at the most.

In another life, Dabi would have had no qualms about turning the doctors to ash, just like he had done to everyone else who had annoyed him in the past, only; he wasn’t Dabi anymore. He wasn’t sure who he was now.

It didn’t help he had been hopped up on quirk blockers that canceled out his quirk, otherwise he probably still would’ve tried to incinerate them. But he couldn’t, and for the first time in his life, Touya Todoroki was fucking cold.

Turns out his quirk did a wonderful job of insulating him against the ice he kept hidden inside his chest all along.

He supposed he couldn’t blame them for rendering him quirkless while at the facility. Hell, he’d render himself quirkless if he was a staff member, having to deal with someone like him. Footage from the fight with his father and the all-out brawl with Shoto had been leaked to the public, showing his quirk’s true power in all of its devastating glory.

He had been told the aftermath of both fights had done irreversible damage to the surrounding areas, and no one was sure if they’d be able to fix the carnage he had created.

Good. The bitter, angry part of himself thought when he had been inadvertently told of the news. Suffer like I am.

He had been kept in isolation most of the time as the doctors tried to figure out what to do with him. His family hadn’t been allowed to visit him yet, and for that he was grateful – he hadn’t been particularly keen on seeing them after his recovery anyways. It was still too soon to face them, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the inevitable aftermath of what was to come. In the meantime, he still refused to respond to any of the medical staff who came to try and work with him, outside of sarcastic remarks and biting jabs that made the whitecoats squirm in their seats, much to his enjoyment.

Curiously, during one of the very few times he did speak to one of the doctors responsible for his treatment; he found himself asking about what happened to the rest of the League. Of course, no one would give him any answers aside from the fact they were alive and they were in custody.

He was more relieved than he thought he would be.

More time passed, and he still refused to open up to any of the staff who came to see him, though he had become more vocal with them – aggressively so – to the point he started to notice there was a continuous rotation of people now; it wasn’t just the same staff he was used to seeing when he first arrived at the facility.

Turns out, even the professionals were still scared of him – quirk or no quirk, his fiery reputation preceded him.

Eventually, the facility couldn’t keep cycling through their therapists, so they had switched tactics. Whether it was out of desperation, or the fact he made so many professionals break down after a session with him, he wasn’t sure, but he can’t say he regrets his actions, because in the end, he met you.

He remembers the day you met for the first time.

He had been forced out of his little cell and taken to one of the treatment rooms where he spent most of his time outside his own room. He had been shoved in there before he could make a snarky retort, and then… he saw you.

You had been sitting on the couch adjacent to the spot where he normally sat during his apptioments. He had been so stunned to see someone new, he’d been rendered silent. You’d looked up towards him, and for the first time since he arrived, you smiled at him.

“Hey.” You’d greeted him casually. He hadn’t responded, still unsure of who you were and what you were doing here instead of the usual staff.

You nodded to the couch across from you. “You wanna sit?”

He sat.

He fully expected you to introduce yourself, but you hadn’t. You’d just leaned back into the couch you were seated on and crossed your legs, giving him a content smile as you regarded him casually.

A few beats of silence passed. You didn’t speak and neither did he. A few minutes passed, then a half hour, and then an hour. Finally, one of the assistants came to bring him back to his room.

He stood up to go but you still didn’t say anything. He’d allowed himself to be taken back without a fuss but, he didn’t think anything more about it. The next day it was the same thing. He was taken out of his room back to the same treatment room, and surprisingly, you were already there waiting for him.

You gave him a little grin and nodded to the couch opposite you, and just like the last day, he sat.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, which was unusual, since all of the other doctors had always started off the conversation, but you sat in silence across from him – the gentle smile never leaving your face all the while.

A half hour of silence passed before he finally broke. “So, what exactly is this?” he remembers his voice sounding dry and scratchy after weeks of misuse. “This the part where you try and butter me so I’ll talk to you?”

You’d grinned at his remark. “No.”

“No? Then what the hell are you doing here? Is this some new technique the therapist’s showed you to try and get me to spill my guts to you? Reverse phycology or some shit?”

“Nope. None of that I can assure you. Actually, if I’m being honest, I’m not even a doctor.”

That caught his attention.

“The hell do you mean you’re not a doctor? How the are you in here then?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

He remembers being completely caught off guard by your answers, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the slightest bit intrigued by you. He remembers squinting at you carefully – taking you in – and for the first time, he saw you. Really saw you.

He could tell that you weren’t lying to him about not being a doctor. You were dressed casually, though you were still covering up a fair amount of skin – no doubt something they told you to do ahead of time. You looked more alive than the rest of the staff in this place as well.

He was loathed to admit it, but you were pretty.

He remembers you flashing him a knowing grin, clearly able to tell he’s been shamelessly checking you out, and it was enough to make him recede back into his shell; his walls going back up once more, as he rolled his eyes condescendingly at you.

“So what’s your angle then?” He’d asked you. “You’re not a doctor but you wouldn’t be in here with me if you didn’t want something from me.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was simply here to talk?”

That had gotten a laugh out of him. A short breathless laugh, but it was the first one he’d uttered since he’d tried to incinerate himself along with his father. It felt weird leaving his throat, foreign even, and he’d cut himself off as soon as the sound exited his mouth. So, he settled for snickering instead.

“Really now? You want to talk to someone like me? Why do I not believe that?”

You had sighed, and leaned forward so your forearms were supported on your knees, fixing him with a stern gaze. The intensity of it had made him flinch before he remembered who he was. He returned the look best he could, but it hadn’t deterred you in the slightest. Instead, you sighed again.

“Look I’ll be honest with you: the staff here filled me in on your situation. I don’t know what they’ve told you, but from how it was explained to me; your family wants you back home with them. They’ve made a bunch of deals with the authorities about getting you out of here and not spending the rest of your life behind bars, but you have to successfully go through rehab first. The reason you’re here is so they can determine that you’re not a threat to society or to yourself, but the staff don’t seem to be having much luck getting through to you, and they’re desperate. They sent out a request to bring in outside help and I applied. They picked me because we’re the same age, and well… no one else really wanted to. Turns out most people are pretty scared of you.”

“Fucking figures. And you’re telling me you’re not?”

“Of you? No.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not. I’m a little nervous maybe, but I’m not scared.”

That had made him pause. He’d swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling like it was packed with cotton.

“Why’s that?” he’d finally asked you after a moment.

You had gone quiet, seemingly mulling over his question before you finally responded: “I think you have a lot to say. More than you already have, and more then what people think. To be honest, I want to hear it.”

He had laughed again, but this time it sounded forced, even to him.

“If you watched my broadcast then you know it all already.”

“Oh, trust me, I think the whole world saw your broadcast, not just Japan. No one would shut up about it for weeks. But I think there’s a lot more to you. I think a part of you wants to talk to someone else – none of that scripted bullshit – and I want to talk to you. Honestly, I think you’re pretty fascinating.”

He had been very tempted as ask you if you had a thing for villains, but he held off.

“You must be crazy if you find talking to me enjoyable. The other quacks can’t even stomach me, let alone stand to be in the same room as me for more than a few minutes. Just how fucked up are you really?”

You’d grinned and wiggled your eyebrows mischievously at him as you leaned back and spread your arms out along the back of the couch. “The only way you’re going to find that out is if you agree to talk to me. I don’t just give up all my secrets willingly you know.”

It was his turn to go quiet as he thought about your words over and over in his head, taunting him. He hadn’t been in any rush to leave the facility and go back to his old house, even if his mother and siblings were waiting for him. On the other hand, this was the most enjoyable conversation he’d had with anyone since coming to this white hellhole they called a hospital.

He figured maybe he would entertain you for a little while. If nothing else it would get you off his back.

You were lucky you were attractive.

The sound of your voice calling out his surname brought him back to the present.

“Mr. Todoroki?”

“… Fine.” He had finally relented. “We’ll see who you really are, and for fuck’s sake don’t call me that. I’m not my fucking father.”

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“D—” he stopped short. Was that his name any more? Did he get to call himself that after everything was said and done? It was the name he had given himself when Touya died all those years ago, but for some reason, saying it now just seemed wrong.

“…Touya.” He finally muttered. “Just Touya.”

You had smiled at him and for some stupid reason, it made his heartrate pick up. Just a little.

“Okay then. Touya it is. It’s nice to meet you.” You extended your left hand, and he had clumsily fumbled around for a moment before shaking your hand. As soon as your hands touched, and he felt the gentle pressure of your hand in his own, he was struck with the realization that this was the closest to human he’d felt in God knows how long. The other doctors that would come in and out of his cell treated him like he was some kind of feral animal, but you had extended your hand to him without any shred of fear or disgust.

Once you’d both settled back into your respective couches, he’d shrugged.

“So, what now then?”

“Now we talk I guess.”

“About what?”

“I think that’s up to you. The people who brought me in here didn’t specify what we have to talk about, but I am supposed to tell you that I can’t talk to you about the UA students, politics, current or former hero’s, or the League.”

Fuck. It didn’t seem like he’d be getting any answers out of you regarding his former group either.

“…fine. Ask away, I guess.”

To his surprise, you shook your head. “Can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I’m the one doing all the asking, then we’re only going to talk about things from my perspective, which isn’t the point. The only way this is going to work is if you talk to me first.”

That’d had thrown him through a fucking loop. Ever since he had arrived at the ward, all the doctors had done is talk at him, hoping he’d respond eventually. You may not have been a doctor, but you made for a better conversation then any of them ever did.

“…Well… Where am I supposed to start?” he’d finally asked, feeling like an idiot. To his immense relief, you’d simply shrugged.

Wherever you want. From the beginning maybe? It might be easier that way.”

He remembered swallowing hard. “Alright… from the beginning then.”

He remembers pausing and looking up at you, taking you in. “What the hell is your name anyways?”

You told him with a smile, and that was how it started.

For the next year, you came to see him almost every day.

He was taken to the same room where you were always waiting for him without fail at the same time every day. Even though at that point, he’d rather choke than admit it; he began to look forward to your visits – finding that they gave him a reprieve from his mundane existence at the mental ward.

He knew the doctors were always listening and recording everything you talked about during the hour you were together, but he found he didn’t care as much as you managed to keep the meetings interesting.

True to your word, you wouldn’t talk to him about current political events, or any news related to heroes (he knew better then to ask anyways), but you were open to chatting with him about anything that he wished to talk about, even though conversations were often hard for him to start – but you were kind and patient with him, more so than anyone had ever been to him for the majority of his miserable life.

He found himself growing found of you, the little smiles you give him when he’d sit across from you, bringing a hidden grin to his own lips, though he was quick to push it down, never letting his passive façade drop for more the a few seconds, lest his supervising doctors notice and assume shit, as they tended to do.

You may not have been a licensed doctor, but you helped him more than any of the ones who worked at the medical ward did.

There was a gradual shift in your relationship as time passed. Around the six month mark he could feel it, and he was almost positive you could too.

Your conversations had become more fluid, more casual. You were relaxed as you could be around him, and he found himself opening up more and more to you without being prompted. Most times he liked to keep the conversation light, but every so often, he’d tell you bits and pieces about his childhood – before everything had gone to shit. He never bothered telling you about everything that happened after Sekoto; he didn’t want to tell you about the years he spent on the streets, or his time in All For One’s medical center with the other children turned Nomu’s, and to his immense relief, you never asked him to.

In return for his openness, you rewarded him with tidbits from your own life growing up. You didn’t name anyone specific (he couldn’t fault you on that one), but you’d tell him about your childhood and some of the adventures you’d had when you were young, well into your teen years.

He learned that you were born an only child to your parents, raised in a caring household. All the idealistic, quaint things that he had wished from his own family. He’d told you as much one day, prompting you to laugh softly.

“Not always.” You’d told him quietly. “I had my own pressure on me when I was growing up. My parents and I fought a lot. We rarely saw eye to eye – they didn’t agree with a lot of choices I made when I was younger, but it was okay aside from that.”

“Still sounds like your parents were better than mine.” He’d told you with a bitter smirk. “My dad’s an abusive asshole, and my mom—”

It was then he realized that he struggled for words to properly describe her. Broken images from his fire fight with Endeavor had come back to him, and he remembered his mother’s fierce determination to try and cool him down – to save him – even as the heat was melting her flesh. She had thrown herself into the fray to try and stop him from ending it all without a second thought for her own safety. Up until very recently, he would’ve described his mother as weak and submissive, always bending to his father’s whims, even though he knew she didn’t have much of a choice back then, but now… that description didn’t seem to fit her anymore.

“—she used to be a doormat for dear old dad to walk over when I was a kid… but she’s changed. She’s a lot stronger than I remember her being.”

“I saw bits and pieces of your fight with… him.” You’d admitted quietly then. “I saw the aftermath. Your mom, your siblings… they all ran in to save you.”

He’d fallen quiet at that, not truly knowing what to say, but when he looked up again, you had offered him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry if this oversteps a boundary but… they never forgot about you Touya. Even if it felt like they did, they never stopped thinking about you.”

For once, he remembered being grateful that his tear ducts were permanently sealed shut, because he suddenly found himself in danger of crying. The tell-tale prickling behind his eyes caused his face to scrunch up as he pushed the thought of his mom and siblings down. He had quickly forced his expression to go back to neutral, and prayed that you hadn’t noticed the switch, but if you had, you didn’t comment on it – another thing he liked so much about you.

Instead, you asked him something that caught him off guard.

“Have you seen them? Your family? Since you were placed here?”

“No. Didn’t think they were allowed to come here. Why?”

“I think… maybe you should let them come see you – your mom and siblings I mean. Not you know who. I don’t think you’d be doing yourself any favours.”

“Why?” He remembers pressing you. “Have you seen them?” You’d shook your head.

“No, I’ve never met them, but I think it might help if you sit down with them and actually talk to them one on one. You must be getting so bored just talking to me day in and day out.”

“No!” he remembers saying a little too quickly, causing another one of those knowing smirks to creep up your lips. “I—no, you’re fine. I like talking to you.”

“Do you not want to see them?” you had asked him seriously. “Is it too soon? I understand if you’re not ready. That’s a decision you have to make on your own. No one can make it for you.”

“… I’ll think about it.”

Because in truth: there were things he wanted to say to them, and conversations he wanted to have.

In the end, it was you who finally convinced him to let his family visit. They had been cleared to see him at the faculty a few months prior, but he had always declined a visit from them, not wanting to see them so soon, since the last time they were all together had resulted in him almost melting his mother, Fuyumi and Natsuo.

There had been strict rules set in place for his family’s visitations: only one person could see him at a time so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed. they weren’t allowed to talk about outside events with him, and finally, under no circumstance was Endeavor allowed anywhere near the faculty. He was fine with his mother and siblings coming to see him if they wished, but he didn’t want his father to be anywhere near him.

He wasn’t ready to see him again so soon. Even after his apologies. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to see his father again.

Thankfully the faculty had minimal difficulty honoring his last wish, as it seemed that Enji didn’t want to be around him either – or maybe he was purposefully keeping his distance. Either way, the old bastard wasn’t around him, and he figured it was for the best.

Once again you had been right; seeing his family again had been as cathartic as it had been terrifying.

There had been tears (from his family – he still was unable to cry), and there had been a lot of long, overdue heart-to-heart conversations with them of things that should’ve been said long ago.

It had been hard to sit down and listen to each of his family members without feeling the intense urge to get up and run when the guilt became almost unbearable, but he had forced himself to sit through it all for their sakes (and even his own), and soon he found himself scheduling more visits with his family, as well as seeing you for your daily interactions.

You never prompted him to tell you how his now daily visits with his family went, but he’d told you anyways – not what was discussed, that would stay with him – but he had told you about his favourite visit. Hilariously, it had been with Shoto; something he never thought he’d ever say.

He’d told you about how Shoto had brought him lunch from the outside the day before. It wasn’t anything special; just piping hot udon noodles with vegetables in pork broth. They had sat down in silence and eaten together, sharing a meal for the first time in their lives. Nothing had been discussed, and yet everything had been said.

It had been nice. Comfortable, even.

He remembered telling you with a soft smile on his face, and you had pointed it out, causing him to scoff and wave you off.

“It’s better food then the shit they feed me in this prison. Seriously, that was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

“Well, once you’re cleared to leave, I’m sure you’ll be able to eat all the udon you want with your brother.” You’d told him as you tucked your feet under you. He’d shrugged, brushing you off, but you were ever observant, and had called him out on it.

“Do you not want to go back to them once you’re able to leave this place?”

It was a simple question in theory, but it wasn’t easy to answer.

He’d shrugged again. “Don’t really know if I can. Not after everything. I won’t go back if he’s there.”

“I don’t think they’d push so hard for you to come back to them if he was.” You reasoned with him gently. “Where would you want to go, if not there?”

You and your questions. Most of the time they were harmless, but sometimes they really made him think. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had an answer for you at that point, and you had quickly switched the conversation topic.

At that point, he’d be lying if he said he was thinking about what he’d do once he was released. Truth be told he hadn’t thought about it much at all. To him, it felt like he’d be in the psychiatric ward for the foreseeable future. He had no real plans for what he’d do once he was out. Maybe he would go back to his old house with his family, or maybe he’d try staking out on his own since that was what he was used to, if he was even allowed to go off on his own. He wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do once he was let out – but he certainly wouldn’t be free, he knew that much.

Maybe he’d try and reconnect with the League – assuming that any of them were even allowed to be released from custody.

It still bothered him on some level that he had no idea about what happened to them after the dust had settled. He had been carted off the battle field before any of them, after his attempt at going nuclear failed, and had been in and out of the hospital and the physiatrist wing ever since.

When he had first arrived, he’d asked the staff about what had happened to the remainder of the League, but they hadn’t told him anything aside from the fact they were alive – but he wasn’t sure how much of that he believed.

The only one he’d really trusted in the whole building was you. He knew you weren’t allowed to talk to him about any villains or heroes, but maybe if he asked you discreetly, you’d be able to tell him something more than what the medical staff had. He didn’t want you to get in trouble, but the curiously was eating away at him.

Finally, one day he risked it, and asked you if you knew anything about the fates of his former teammates.

You had paused after he’d voiced his question, and went quiet for a moment, seemingly debating on what you could say to him. For a moment you looked like you were almost about to tell him that you couldn’t say anything, but the look on his face must have been desperate enough that you cracked.

You had given the cameras in the room an unreadable look before sighing loudly. “I don’t know where they are exactly. I never looked into it, and it isn’t public knowledge anyways.” You told him gently. “What I do know is that they’re alive, and they’re in different treatment centers receiving help. I know they were beaten badly and some of your friends almost died – but as far as I know, they’re doing okay.”

You’d then sat straight back up on your chair and loudly proclaimed, “I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to say that much to him, right? Don’t take it out on him or me once we’re done here.”

It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for, but at least they were alive, and were in similar situations to him. It made him feel slightly less alone.

When the timer beeped shrilly, signaling that your hour was up, you had stood up to leave just as you always did, but before you could say goodbye to him, he’d quickly lunged forward and grabbed your hand, incasing it with his large cold one.

You’d stared at him in shock, as he’d never made a move to touch you once in the six months, you’d been visiting him, but before any of the guards could rush in and pull him off, he’d let your hand drop, but not before muttering a quiet “thank you” under his breath to you, before backing off and allowing the armed guard to escort you out of the room.

He distinctly remembers feeling the pressure of your small hand in his own, but he hadn’t been able to feel anything else aside from that. He hated it. He suddenly found himself hating that all of the nerves in his body had been severed, rendering him unable to feel anything. He couldn’t feel the texture of your skin against his own, or if your hands were cool or warm like his.

He was forced to admit to himself that for the first time since he’d left the hospital; he wanted to feel something again.

He wanted to feel you. But he couldn’t, and it aggravated him more than anything.

There was another thing he remembered distinctly about that day as you were leaving him behind: For the first time since you had started your daily interactions with him; you had looked back.

You had looked at him like you were seeing him in a different light.

He didn’t see you for a few weeks after that. When he had been pulled from his cell, and into the room where you usually met him, he was instead greeted by several doctors that had overseen his treatment when he first arrived.

He had asked them where you were, and when they refused to answer his question, he had immediately become hostile and threatening. The walls that were slowly starting to lower since he first met you went straight back up, and Touya turned into Dabi once more.

For the first time in roughly seven months, he lashed out (quirk be damned), and was immediately taken back to his room and put on lockdown. He wasn’t allowed visitors, and the only times he was allowed to leave his cell was to go back to the same room with the same doctors who poked and prodded him – asking him increasingly invasive questions, until he shut his mouth and refused to speak to them once more. One last act of defiance on his end since he still didn’t have use of his quirk.

When it had become apparent to the doctors and specialists that he refused to speak to any of them, they stopped taking him out altogether. He spent countless hours staring out the tiny window in his room, basking in the weak sunlight and taking in the menial views he could see from his window.

He had wondered where you had gone; if you had been forcefully sent away after he had asked about the League. He hoped that wasn’t the case – he liked you, probably more then he should if he was honest with himself – and you were just about the only person he could actually carry on a conversation with in this shitty place.

A few more weeks in solitary had him about to snap. He had reached a point where he was about to try and strike a deal with the overseeing doctors about bringing you back if he answered their shitty questions, when one of the armed guards opened up his door and guested for him to follow.

Once again, he had been taken back to the same observation room, but to his pleasant surprise; you were there waiting for him.

You had beamed at him and before he could think about what he was doing, he had crossed the room towards you in three long strides until he was standing directly in front of you. He had begun to lift his hand up towards you, only for his action to halted by a curt bark from the guard who was still standing at the door. You had shaken your head, motioning to the guard you were fine and sent him on his way. As soon as the door had closed, he rounded on you.

“You left.”

You had nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips. “I did, yes. Not really by choice though.”

“Why did you go?”

You’d barked out a laugh. “I’ll be honest, the supervisors weren’t too happy with me when I told you about the League. I broke one of their rules, so they told me I had to go for a bit.”

He’d narrowed his eyes, confused. “But now you’re back.”

You’d given him a slight smirk. You turned to sit down on your usual spot on the couch, but this time, instead of having him sit across from you, you’d gestured for him to sit beside you, which he’d done so embarrassingly fast.

“You’re very stubborn.” You’d told him with a light laugh. “From what I was told, you refused to talk to anyone after I left – heard you got downright nasty with some of the staff, and they put you on probation. They called me a few days ago almost begging me to come back. Guess they felt you made the most progress when you were talking to me.”

You’d given him a look that was hard for him to read. “Why did you snap at them?”

He figured there was no point in lying to you – you’d find out somehow. “Didn’t know where you went. Fuckers wouldn’t tell me, and they kept prying into my shit. Didn’t want to talk to them so they put me in solitary.”

He remembers you looking sad at his answer. “I heard you were in there for several weeks. I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to happen to you. Not on my account. I didn’t… I don’t want to be the reason your release got delayed.”

For some reason, it bothered him that you blamed yourself for what happened, and he reached out to gently take hold of your wrist. To his surprise, you hadn’t stopped him, or made any move to pull your hand away from his, so he allowed himself to rub circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, even though he couldn’t feel it.

“Not your fault. Don’t worry about when I’m getting out. It’s not like it really matters anyways.”

“Do you know why they were pushing you so much?” you’d asked quietly, still not making any more to remove yourself from his hold. He’d shook his head and you’d simply leaned into him, damn near making him freeze up in surprise at your boldness.

“They told me that they’re planning on releasing you soon – with restrictions of course – but they were thinking that you’d be able to leave here sooner than expected. That was before your outburst, but if you’re willing to just hear them out and answer their questions, it’ll help speed up the process.”

“They seriously think that I’m fit to send out into society again?” he remembers scoffing, hardly believing what he was hearing. “Pretty sure the majority of them think I’m an irredeemable sociopath.”

“They’ve seen the way you act around me and your interactions with your family. You’re not perfect, but you’re trying, and sometimes that’s all you can do.”

“You do realize I have killed people, right? I’ve maimed countless others. They’re… not exactly wrong about me.”

Surprisingly, you’d simply rolled your eyes at his statement, acting like he’d just told you the sky was blue. “Of course I know that Touya. I’m not overlooking what you did. But they—your family – are fighting hard to try and get you another chance, a fresh start. They think you deserve it, and they’re out there right now, day and night, trying to convince others that you deserve a second chance too.”

You had twisted your hand in his so your palms were kissing, fingers laced together, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears as you gave him that damn smile of yours.

“You’re right: the past never dies, but that doesn’t mean that it has to be your future as well.”

That simple statement had stunned him. For the first time in a long time, he hadn’t had anything to say in response to you.

He remembers fighting an internal battle in himself, trying to find something to say to rebuttal what you were telling him. A part of him understood why his family was fighting for his uncertain future outside the psychiatric ward, but on the other hand… he didn’t necessarily believe that he deserved it.

What kind of life would he be able to have even if he was allowed to be released? He had never planned on living this long, as morbid as that was. His original goal had been to go out in a fiery hell-blaze with his bastard of a father, but clearly that hadn’t happened. He was known a global terrorist, the right-hand to the symbol of fear. His quirk was legendary for all the wrong reasons. How could he possibly be allowed to live on the outside? There was no way the rest of Japan wanted him released, let alone wandering around. What kind of future could he possibly be allowed to dream about? Did he even dare to think about it? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about what he might do if he was ever allowed out of the ward from time to time, but now that his impending release seemed like more of a possibility; he was starting to think maybe it was better for everyone – and maybe even himself – if he stayed locked away.

Thankfully, you and your perspective nature had picked up his internal struggle. You’d leaned into him and taken his hand in both of your own, allowing him to breathe again.

“What do you want Touya?”

What did he want? Christ he wasn’t sure.

“I… don’t know. Honestly: I never planned on living this long from the get go. Everything has always been decided for me. I kinda figured that this would be the same.” He had admitted quietly, the gentle pressure of your hands on his own, grounding his rapid thoughts.

“Do you think you’re ready to leave soon?” You’d asked him gently, prompting him to laugh, a bitter, ugly thing, but you hadn’t flinched.

“No.” he’d admitted after a moment, scrunching up his nose. “Dunno if there’s much of a point. I’ll never be free. No matter where I go, I’ll always be a prisoner. What kind of life could I even have outside of here? I don’t know how to live any other way aside from how I’ve been living since I escaped that damn—” he’d cut himself off last minute, reminding himself that you didn’t know about All For One’s hellish medical facility he had woken up in, and he had no plans on telling you about that.

“I just…” he remembered breathing out hard through his nose as he tried to collect his thoughts, focusing on the faint heat he swore he could feel emanating off your hands and leaching into his cold skin. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if they decide to let me out. Dunno if I can go back to the old house after everything that happened, and I’m not sure if I could bring myself to live with my mom or my siblings after… well, you saw bits of what happened on TV already.”

He hadn’t needed to say it for you to know that he felt a tremendous amount of guilt towards his mother and siblings – especially Fuyumi and Natsuo – for nearly charring them in the heat of battle. He may have held onto so much resentment and anger towards his family for his mistreatment as a child, but he was also self-aware enough to know that it hadn’t been their faults, and they had tried to help him in the only ways they knew how.

You had been quiet as you let him vent to you. You hadn’t said anything for a while afterwards as you mulled over what he’d told you. Finally, you had nudged his shoulder with your own.

“I think that everything you just told me is proof enough that you deserve a chance to have a life outside of these walls.” You admitted. “What you said isn’t something an ‘irredeemable sociopath’ would say. That’s something a self-aware person says. You’re not perfect Touya, but Christ if you’re not trying. I can see it, your mom, sister and brothers see it, and I think a lot of your other doctors are starting to see it too. I think there’s a point, even if you don’t think there is.”

In that moment he’d been convinced that if he could cry, he would’ve been.

“Yeah? Well, thank you sweetheart.” He’d muttered into your hair, fighting hard with himself to try and keep his voice steady. “I have no fucking idea why you’re so nice to me, but it’s… yeah.”

“I think someone needs to treat you like a normal human being, because I don’t think anyone did for a long time.” You’d looked up at him pointedly, but he’d seen traces of something else in your eyes when you’d asked him, “Did they?”

A simple flat look from him had been answer enough for you, and prompted you to squeeze his hand. “Didn’t think so.”

You’d both lapsed into a comfortable silence aside from the steady ticking of the clock, and he’d known without looking up that your time with him was coming to an end. Now, he was dreading it more then he normally would’ve been. You’d spoken up again, but what came out of your mouth next, had shocked him.

“When you’re released… If you’re still unsure of where you want to go afterwards… I could… if you can clear it with the people overseeing your progress once you’re cleared to leave… Maybe… you could come stay with me.”

He remembered staring down at you, shocked. “Is that even allowed?”

You’d shrugged in response. “I’m not sure. I think you’re going to have to initially stay with your family for a while, but if you’re really having a difficult time staying there… maybe I could work something out with your family, as long as it’s approved. It’ll probably take a while, but I can try.”

He had a difficult time allowing what you were implying to sink in. How? How could you be so trusting? To even suggest the idea of someone like him staying with you? Forget if it was even possible or not, the fact you’d even offered in the first place was mind-blowing. Before he could think about what he was saying, he’d voiced his thoughts to you:

“I’m sure your parents would be thrilled, you bringing a villain back to your home.”

You’d simply given him a small smile. “I’m sure they wouldn’t like it… if they were around that is.”

“Oh. They not in the country, or—”

“We’ll go with that.”

Ah. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one with secrets. That was fair, you were allowed to have your own. He wouldn’t pry.

“Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know.”

You’d both fallen back into the same silence from before. You were still leaning on him, his hand trapped in your smaller one, yet he’d made no move to remove it from your grasp. Honestly, he was shocked the guards from before hadn’t barged into the room and forced him away from you. The close proximity must have been violating a rule of some kind, and yet no one had made any move to separate the two of you, Maybe the medical staff really had been as desperate as you’d claimed, and were willing to let some things slide. Either way, he wasn’t complaining.

“You’re a lot colder than I thought you’d be… with your quirk being what it is and all.”

He’d glanced down at you, only to see you staring down at your intertwined hands. You’d squeezed the appendage again, prompting him to respond.

“It’s the quirk suppressors. Haven’t been able to use my quirk since before I got here. The quacks made it so I’m hopped up on suppressors around the clock, just in case. Turns out I’m pretty fucking cold without my flames. Must be from the ice side, but I can’t use that either.”

“Well, maybe if you keep being nice, you won’t have to be on them indefinitely.” You had tried to give him a hopeful smile, but he knew what the likelihood of that happening was, and you must have too, since you didn’t say anything else on the matter.

The timer had sounded then, signaling the visit was over. Before the guard could come to collect you, he’d quickly pulled his arm out of your grasp, and had wrapped it around you tightly, much to your initial surprise. He’d begrudgingly let you go so he could help you stand, sending the guard at the door a pointed look as he’d seen him casting an unsure look between himself and you. You hadn’t been the least bit bothered by the anxious glances the guard was trying to send you as you stood slowly and sent him one of your little smiles he’d come to expect from you.

“You’re coming back?” he’d blurted out before he could stop himself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time.” You’d told him confidently as you’d turned to leave, brushing your knuckles against his. “Don’t worry Touya. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since someone had promised him anything in a very long time, he’d believed you.

In the end, you’d kept your promise.

It had taken close to another year before he was allowed to leave the psychiatric facility (some minor setbacks had pushed his initial release date back), but you had come to see him almost every day at the same time.

Over that time, you’d grown exceptionally close to each other, even more so from when you’d first started visiting him initially. It was almost impossible for him not to grow attached to you – you were his constant source of company, his companion. You were the one person he could tell anything to and not have to worry about being scrutinized for his thoughts. You were his safe space – something he’d never thought he’d ever say about someone else – and once he’d worked out how he saw you; it had been game over. He’d fallen for you fast and hard before he’d realized it, and by the time he did, it’d had been too late. He was hopelessly and utterly drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

Surprisingly, you’d felt the same as him.

You’d openly admitted it to him one day near the end of his stay at the ward – even at the cost of possibly being prevented from seeing him again, since both of you knew you were crossing boundaries you hadn’t been meant to cross. He’d warned you as such, heart pounding in his ears at your confession, but you’d told him that he’d deserved to know with a simple shrug.

“Besides; if you keep up the good behavior and don’t have any more outbursts, you’ll be out before the end of the year anyways. Even if they don’t let me back after this – you can find me on the outside.” You’d told him matter-of-factly, boldly taking his hand in your own, before sending a shit-eating grin to the cameras set up around the room – knowing the doctors were monitoring every move.

He'd been certain that he could’ve kissed you right there and then.

Surprisingly, the medical staff had allowed you to continue coming back, even though it was apparent both of you cared for each other in ways that crossed professional boundaries. As much as the doctors were against how close the two of you had become, they couldn’t deny how far he had progressed since meeting you. He had gone from being the bitter, angry husk of a man, to someone who was still, and would always be forever scorned by the past, but overall, in a better place mentally.

Not too long after he’d sorted out his own feelings for you, he’d made you a surprising request:

He wanted you to meet his mother and siblings.

The meet up had taken almost a month of careful planning on the medical staff’s end, and had initially been met with some hesitation on both sides, but eventually you had agreed to it, and you’d sat down with him and the members of his family who he kept in contact with.

His father hadn’t been invited for obvious reasons.

The medical staff had allowed him out of his normal room so he could meet with you and his mother and siblings in one of the spacious sitting rooms normally reserved for guests. A row of floor to ceiling windows lined the far wall, allowing him to get a view of the outside gardens. He remembered the outside weather was slightly overcast that day but warm rays of sunshine would occasionally stream through the gray clouds, as you and his family slowly met with one another under his watchful gaze.

His mother had taken to you almost immediately, as well as Natsuo – both seemingly happy he’d bonded with someone who was relatively normal – Fuyumi and Shoto had taken a little more convincing. Shoto was more curious of you, while Fuyumi had been downright distrustful. She’d asked you right off the bat what your intensions were with him, but he’d seen right through her: she was concerned that you were somehow affiliated with the now disbanded League, or maybe even the Paranormal Liberation Front.

Thankfully, you weren’t so easily put off by her upfront questioning. You had been calm, almost amused, as you answered her questions; reassuring her that you were in no way affiliated with any criminal organizations, and how you were someone who’d been presented with an opportunity to help with his rehabilitation, and had taken a leap of faith when no one else would.

“Why though?” he remembered his sister pressing you. “Why would you want to help him even after knowing everything he’s done?”

You and him had shared a look then, and he’d known what you were thinking before you said anything.

“I guess I wanted to understand why things went so wrong.” You’d told her honestly, your shoulder brushing with his as you spoke. “I wanted to get his side of the story – the unscripted one. When the chance to talk to him in person came up, I took it. Everyone deserves to have their story told, and I wanted to hear his.”

“You’re a lot closer than just a support person to him.” Fuyumi had countered, making him bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping at her to back off with her invasive questioning, knowing that he’d only land himself in trouble with the medical staff overseeing their visit if he had any outbursts.

To your credit, you’d simply shrugged, totally unbothered by her statement. “Yeah, well, that tends to happen when you see someone basically every day for over a year. Same time, same place. For as clueless as he is at normal relationships, your brother can be pretty charming when he wants to be.”

He’d been pretty sure the only reason you were outright lying to his sister was to try and make him look better in her eyes, but he almost hadn’t been able to stop the laugh that threatened to escape past his lips. Almost.

His sister had almost deflated then. Whether it was from disappointment in being unable to shake you, or relief, she’d simply nodded; finally accepting your answers.

“Well… if he’s happy… then that’s all any of us really need, I guess.”

The rest of the visitation had gone incredibly well, not that he was complaining. Plans for future meetings had been put in place, and from there, you and him had gotten into a semi-regular routine of seeing his mother and siblings, or whoever was available to come.

He never wanted to admit it to you, but the visitations you helped arrange with his family made his transition from the psychiatric hospital to his eventually moving into his mother’s new house after he’d been cleared for release, far smoother than he thought it would’ve been.

Eventually though, he was proven right about his earlier assumptions on living with his family – or rather – his mother and his siblings, again after so long:

He couldn’t do it. It felt almost wrong.

He’d felt like a ghost, wandering up and down the halls, looking at the pictures that lined the hallways of his mother’s house; comprised largely of his younger siblings. He’d watched as they had slowly grown up in each one, filling him with sense of melancholy.

He’d missed the opportunity to watch them grow up. They’d done that without him. That was time he couldn’t get back – memories that weren’t there.

He’d felt isolated, and no amount of comfort or reassurance from his mother could change that deep-rooted feeling in him. Not even Natsuo’s constant presence in the home made him feel better, much to his younger brother’s disappointment, though thankfully he understood.

He’d lasted two months before he’d finally cracked and called your number which you’d given him immediately after he was released. You’d both stayed in contact, texting every day (under strict monetization from police tech sectors), but you hadn’t been able to see him in person since he’d gotten out, as you’d both agreed that it would be better if he focused on trying to settle into his new home. He’d missed you terribly during that period – not used to not seeing you for such a long period of time.

He'd called you in the dead of night, and asked if your offer to have him come stay with you was still open. From there, you’d gotten in contact with the authorities in charge of his release to try and gain permission for him to come live with you, while he had the difficult task of trying to explain to his family why he couldn’t stay with them any longer than he’d already had.

As expected, you’d been met with resistance on both sides, but eventually his overseers had come to an agreement: he would be allowed to live with you, but he always had to have a tracking monitor on at all times, he had to be on constant quirk suppressors, he couldn’t leave your building without you and a Pro hero escort of some kind, and finally, he had to attend mandatory therapy sessions at least once a week, as well as call his probation officer weekly and give them updates about what he was doing. If he failed to meet any of the rules set out for him; he’d earn himself a one-way ticket to Tartarus, no questions asked.

As much as he’d wanted to argue some of what they wanted from him, he’d agreed to their stipulations, knowing full-well unless he agreed to their terms, he’d be stuck at his mother’s for the rest of his life, and while he didn’t hate living with her and his siblings, it was too awkward for him to try and face them every day, knowing his past atrocities towards the rest of the country and even them, would continue to haunt him for the rest of his days.

He couldn’t pretend that he was still the same person he was when he’d burned up at the tender age of thirteen. He was different, older, harder. Things would never be able to go back to what they’d once been, and honestly: he didn’t want them to. He couldn’t go back to living with them after such a long time apart, because he had no idea how to co-exist with them normally.

Thankfully, as much as he knew it hurt his mother to hear him express his innermost thoughts, she seemed to understand how he felt the most, and had simply told him that he was always welcome in her home, and she still wanted him to come stay with her from time to time.

“You’re my son Touya. No matter how old you get or no matter what you do, you’ll always be my baby.” She’d told him gently just before he’d left her house, wrapping him into a tight hug.

Sometimes he found himself grateful he couldn’t cry anymore. He’d just wished this side of his mother had been more prominent over ten years ago. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently if it had.

He’d seen you then for the first time in several months when you’d come to pick him up. He’d managed to keep himself calm while you spoke to his mother, but secretly he was elated to see you again after months apart. His excitement over seeing you again had probably shown on his face, since you’d made it a point to keep yourself close to him as his brothers had moved his important possessions into your car.

It was as you were talking to his mother; he’d learned that you had moved to a new apartment building some weeks ago, following the news that one of Japan’s former most wanted was coming to stay with you. Naturally, the people in your old building hadn’t been pleased, so you’d forced to switch buildings to an apartment located near several hero agencies, where the residents hadn’t been as concerned about an ex-super villain moving in, due to the multitude of patrolling heroes in the area. The change had been frustrating for you, but it was the only way he’d be able to stay with you without anyone kicking up too much of a fuss.

Eventually you’d both been on your way back to your apartment with Shoto in tow to help with moving his things into your apartment. Your new place wasn’t massive, but it had two bedrooms and a decently sized living room and kitchen. Shoto had helped him set his things up in the spare bedroom before departing, but not before giving you his number with instructions to call him if you ever needed help.

As soon as the door had shut, he’d been on you.

He’d slammed you up against the door, causing a started yelp to escape your lips, as he grinned down at you wolfishly.

“What’s the matter sweetheart? Nervous? It’s not like we haven’t been this close before.”

You’d turned beet red as you shyly traced your fingers up his chest. “No, but we certainly haven’t done this.”

He’d grinned as he dipped his head down so you and him were eye to eye. “Tell me no then. Tell me you don’t want this, that you don’t feel the same as me.”

He’d listened to your breath hitch, watching with delight as the flush deepened on your cheeks. “You wanted me to talk right? To be open with you about how I’m feeling? Well, I want you, and I think you want me too.”

You’d looked up at him through your lashes, reaching up to lace your hand around his neck. “I do.” You’d told him gently, and your simple admission had made up his mind.

“Fuck.” He’d muttered, just before he’d dipped down and captured your lips with his.

The effect had been instantiations. His lips molded with yours, breathing in your air, as his hand cupped your cheek, long fingers curling around the back of your neck to keep you close to him.

You’d slowly peeled yourself off the door and grabbed at the collar of his shirt, pulling him with you further into the apartment, and into your bedroom. You’d managed to slam your door shut, just before he’d pushed you onto your bed – his lips never leaving yours as he pressed you further into the mattress.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you as you helped him take your clothes off. He could touch you, really touch you the way he’d wanted to for so long now. Nothing was there to hold him back, no cameras, no guards, no medical staff dictating his every move. It was just you and him.

He’d almost froze when he’d seen you’d laid out bare beneath him, soft and glowing against the pale sunshine streaming in from your bedroom window, warming your frame. You’d beamed up at him, tracing your hands up his arms.

“You can touch me.” You’d told him gently. “I trust you. Just be gentle.”

Gentle. Now that was a word he was certain he didn’t have in his vocabulary – but for you, he’d try.

He’d traced your curves gently, listening intently as your breath hitched, or how a small moan would escape past your lips when he touched a particularly sensitive area. Finally, you’d reached up to tug at the hem of his shirt, but he’d grabbed at your hands, making you pause.

“It’s not… I’m not… the scars… aren’t much better under there.” He’d tried to warn you. You’d given him a gentle smile, cupping his cheeks with your hands.

“I don’t mind Touya. You know I don’t care about all that.” You’d smoothed your thumbs over the raised skin of his face. “I love you for you. Regardless of what you look like.”

Love. You… you loved him, didn’t you? Even after everything he’d done while he was an active criminal – you’d somehow grown to love him, while most of the world hated him.

He didn’t necessarily think he was deserving of your love, but hell if he was ever going to point that out to you. He’d almost been tempted to ask you if you were a little bit crazy yourself, but you’d even told him when you had first met that he’d have to find that out for himself.

Maybe you were – just a little bit – but that suited him fine.

A normal girl would never have been able to handle him anyways.

He’d allowed you to help him out of his clothes then, and to your credit, you hadn’t batted an eye at the less than perfect skin covering his body. He may not have been held together by surgical staples anymore, and his body may not have been a mess of burnt patchwork skin like it used to be, but the new skin grafts were raised and patchy – never fully settling properly. It wasn’t often that he got self-conscience about how he looked, but you were different.

You had run your hands up and down the length of his body and marveled him like he was some work of art. He didn’t think he was, but you clearly saw him differently. You’d kissed his marred skin, and if he’d been able to cry, he would have.

You had pulled him down onto your bed and climbed on top of him, much to his surprise. He’d tried to prop himself up, only for you to gently push him back down onto your mattress, giving him a knowing smile all the while.

“Let me take care of you.” You’d whispered to him softly. “We’ll go slow. Gentle. It’s just me and you now.”

It wasn’t like he’d never fucked someone before, but it had been a while, and it was just that: he’d fucked, never loved. He wasn’t sure if he knew any other way when it came to sex, but he knew that he didn’t want to be rough with you like he’d been with his past flings, and so he had relinquished control to you.

He had allowed himself to relax into the mattress as you’d hovered above him, lining him up with your entrance. He was already painfully hard, his body reacting to yours as soon as he’d kissed you. You’d bent down to kiss his throat, relishing how he’d let out a shuddering breath as you’d sunk down onto him. He’d cursed as your tight heat had enveloped him, leaving him boneless and shaking.

He’d brought your face down to his to kiss you as you started moving, moaning as you slowly moved up and down on his shaft. You’d knocked the breath out of his lungs as you whimpered against his lips, still moving your hips against his own.

“Shit.” He’d growled as he’d reached up to wrap an arm around your hips. “Fuck baby. You feel so good. You’re so good for me.”

“You feel so good.” You’d sobbed. “I want you – want to make you feel good.”

“You do. Fuck you do. I want you. I need you.” He’d grunted as he planted his feet into your bed, pistoning his hips up into your body.

“Fuck.” You’d cried out, as you continued to bounce on his cock. “Touya!”

“I’m here. Fuck I’m here, with you. I love you.”

He’d remembered your eyes blowing wide at his confession, just before your body had stiffened up, and your mouth had opened up into a silent scream, as your orgasm had ripped through you – your end triggering his own.

You’d both stayed there for a moment, trying to regain your breath, before you’d slowly separated yourself from him. He hadn’t let you go far – pulling you down to lay beside him, and wrapping himself around you as you nestled into the broad expanse of his chest.

“Stay.” He had rasped as he held you close to him, curling around your smaller frame protectively. He’d known what he was saying was nonsensical – he was in your apartment, you weren’t going anywhere, not really – but thankfully, you seemed to understand what he was trying to say without him outright telling you. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere Touya.” You’d breathed, placing a kiss on the side of his temple. “You’re home now. With me.”

That simple sentence had brought him more comfort than he’d experienced in recent memory. He’d passed out sometime after with you still nude and curled into him, sharing in his warmth.

That had been the best sleep he’d had in years.

After that, he’d fallen into a steady routine of normalcy with you. You’d go to work, while he’d keep himself entertained during the day. Normally, he’d open up the windows in your living room and perch himself on the couch near them, soaking up the feeling of gentle sunbeams on his face, and watching the outside world go by as he waited for you to return later in the evening. You had set up therapy appointments for him every Thursday, and either you or Shoto would take him depending on your schedules. Life settled down, and the outside world continued on around him, even though his world now consisted of your apartment and what he could see outside from your windows.

It wasn’t a coincidence that three pro heroes moved into the building roughly a month after he had moved the last of his menial things into your apartment.

He couldn’t say that he was surprised by the less then subtle way the newly reformed hero commission chose to keep an annoyingly close watch on him, but he was still allowed some freedoms with you, so he figured he could keep his jabs to himself for the time being.

All and all, life with you was simple easy. For the first time in his life, he could say he was appreciating the little things he never could’ve before his life had turned into a living hell.

For the first time in a very long time, he had hope – something he’d never allowed himself to have before, because what had been the point? He had fully planned on taking himself out in the final fight against Endeavor… but life was strange, and it turned out that it had different plans for him.

While he couldn’t be sure what those plans were yet, they had brought you to him, and that was enough.

He had you, and in the end, that’s all that really mattered—

-----

The sound of one of his skin care products hitting the floor snaps him out of his reprieve. He blinks, and once again, he is standing in your bathroom with the sink running, halfway through the skin maintenance routine that you forced on him once he came to live with you.

He swears under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the plastic tube with his right arm, only to freeze as he suddenly remembers:

His right arm is gone. He tore it clean off in the brawl against his dad.

He finds it surprising how often he forgets he doesn’t have both his hands anymore. Half the time he swears that his right arm is still intact because he can feel the damn thing, only to look down and see it’s still gone from mid bicep down. You once called it a ‘phantom limb’ and he thinks you might be onto something with how often he’ll go to do something with his right, only to remind himself the arm doesn’t exist anymore.

It doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Natsuo had offered to set him up an appointment to get him fitted for a prosthetic, but he hadn’t made up his mind on it yet – finding most things pretty manageable even with the lack of his right arm – but he does have days where he wishes he had all of his limbs, and there are certain tasks were having two hands would be more useful than one.

His extensive skin care routine is one of those tasks.

Hilariously, it was one of the conditions of him coming to stay with you initially: for the first time in his life, he was being forced to look after himself.

He had protested initially when you had come back home one day with a plethora of different specialty products for sensitive skin – not seeing the point – but you had insisted that he use them to take care of the newer skin grafts, telling him that if he wanted to continue to stay with you, he’d have to start properly taking care of himself, or you would do it for him.

He had begrudgingly accepted, and he gradually incorporated it into his daily routine. Realistically, he knew he didn’t have much to complain about: he didn’t have many responsibilities as it was, and you had promised him if he kept up with it, you wouldn’t tell his parole officer that you weren’t forcing him take his quirk suppressor medication – one of the conditions of his release.

He grins inwardly to himself as he turns the sink off and pats his face dry. You hadn’t seen the need to enforce that particular rule, seeing how you were quite confident he wasn’t going to burn down your apartment building, and he didn’t have any plans to – lest he be forced to return back to his mother’s home.

Besides, after spending over a year feeling unnaturally cold without his quirk, he was in no rush to return to the weak, powerless state the psychiatric ward had left him in. Even if he couldn’t use his quirk to it’s full, destructive potential like he used to, just knowing that he still had use of his quirk intact was a comfort to him.

He makes his way out of the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him and, pads over to his side of your shared closet, stripping out of his sleep clothes and pulling on a loose shirt and baggy sweats, before heading out into the small living room.

If his younger self could see how he lives now, he’s sure he would’ve turned his nose up in disgust before calling him a sell-out, and a gnarled part of him still thinks that to some level, however; when he thinks back to how he used to live on the streets for close to a decade, he’ll take the easy, comfy life-style you allow him to live in your home in a heart-beat.

He used to wonder about where he would get his next meal – now his biggest inconvenience is that he’s bored whenever you’re not at home. How the times change.

He turns on the T.V. and sets it to a low volume as he moves into the kitchen and opens the fridge, pulling out a few miscellaneous items and setting them on the counter, before getting to work on prepping the food.

He doesn’t eat much, even now his metabolism is still messed up from the years of cumulative damage his body sustained, but he found himself making food for you when he first moved into your apartment as a way to keep himself occupied while you were at work. Most of his cooking attempts consist of cup noodles, and whatever else was easy to make, but every once in a while, he’d put a bit more effort into what he made, so long as you had the ingredients for it.

He curses to himself as he painstakingly prepares an easy meal of miso soup and yaki, his lack of a right arm slowing down his progress. Eventually he finishes his meal prep and puts his creation away as he waits for you to come home, moving to his usual spot by the window on your living room couch, before sitting down and indulging in some mindless reality T.V. show.

He watches the show absentmindedly, barely paying attention to what’s playing on the screen as he basks in the warm sunlight streaming in from outside. He glances over to his left to see his reflection staring back at him from a hanging mirror across the room, and has to fight the urge to flinch at what’s staring back at him.

Even after all of the love and tenderness you allowed him to experience while living with you, he still looked rough, and there were days where he felt it more than others. He may not have been able to feel pain in the normal sense, but his body aches constantly and there are additional issues he deals with daily.

He’s painfully aware that he probably doesn’t have a lot of time on the earth. He’s in his late twenties, too damn early to be faced with his own mortality, but he knows there’s no use in trying to dance around the subject. With his body being what it is, he’d be surprised if he made it to fifty, but he knows better than to voice that out loud. The one-time he had confessed his inner thoughts to you, you had damn near burst into tears, and he found that he couldn’t stand to see you like that, so he keeps his morbid thoughts to himself.

The sound of the apartment door opening snaps him out of his depressing reprieve. He looks up, only to see you closing the door to the apartment, hanging your keys up and kicking your shoes off. He gets up off the couch and pads over to you, greeting you with a little smile.

“You’re home early.”

You turn around to face him, smiling. “Yeah, I finished early today. Figured I’d come back and see what you were up to.”

He snorts as he takes your bag from you, setting it down on the small bench you had set up near your front door. “Not much, you know that. S’not like I can leave the building without you or Shoto escorting me.”

You roll your eyes, gracing him with a teasing smile. “How is he anyways? You talked to your family at all recently?”

He shrugs. “Not really. You know my phone usage is heavily monitored anyways.”

“I told them that – your mom reached out to me recently – she was hoping to meet up with you for lunch soon, and she hadn’t heard from you in a bit.”

“Ah. I don’t look at my phone very often. Tell her that I’m down. I’ll reach out at some point.” He nods towards the kitchen. “I made dinner.”

You beam at him. “You didn’t have to do that.” You lean in to press a kiss to the rough skin of his cheek, and he feels his heart speed up in his chest. Even though the physical affection you gave him isn’t anything new, it’s still amazing how much of an effect you had on him.

The fire that he keeps buried in his chest flares to life as you turned away from him briefly, but he doesn’t let you go far. He snakes an arm around your middle, pulling you back to him, causing you to look up at him.

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbles quietly into your hair. You simply wrap your arms around his torso and snuggle into his chest.

“Missed you too.” You tell him quietly. He swallowed thickly, as he allowed his hand to splay further down your back.

“I really missed you; I mean.”

You smile up at him gently, wiggling your eyebrows. “Did you now?”

“Mmmm.”

His hummed response causes your grin to grow wider. “Wanna show me?”

He doesn’t humor you with a response – instead opting to take you by the hand and lead you towards your shared bedroom with teasing grin of his own. He allows you to kick the door closed behind you, before dipping down to bite on the skin of your neck, causing a giggle to escape your lips as his hands wander up and down your frame.

“Off.” He grunts, tugging on your clothes. You smirk at his demand, pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get him to look at you.

“I think you could ask me a bit nicer, right?”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Please.”

“That’s better.” You smile sweetly at him, separating yourself from him long enough to shimmy out of your pants and strip out of your shirt, leaving you in your bra and panties before him.

He kisses the back of his teeth as he closes the distance between you, wrapping a muscular arm around you as he captures your lips with his rough ones. He feels you sigh into the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck.

It wasn’t often that he initiated physical contact like this – he not shy by any means, but he’s not used to having such close relations with another person. He’d been a loner for such a long time after escaping the hospital, and any physical contact he somehow managed to receive from woman he’d met in sketchy bars during those miserable years had never been meaningful or fulfilling. He wasn’t used to being wanted.

But you wanted him, and you weren’t shy about letting him know just that.

He had no problems letting you remind him of the latter.

He feels your hands travel down from around his neck to the bottom of his shirt, tugging on it. “Off please.” You murmur against his lips, and he separates from you long enough to yank his shirt off, before coming back to embrace your soft body with his own hot one.

He presses you back against the bed, gently pushing you down to lay on the mattress as he hovered above you. He dips back down to seal his lips with yours, as he feels your fingertips trail down the rough skin of his stomach until they reached the waistband of his sweats. He smirks as he feels you undo the drawstrings and push them down his slender hips, pushing them down low enough for his cock to spring free.

“Seems like you’re just as eager as me.” He sniggers as he sits up long enough to shuck them off, giving you a moment to unhook your bra and toss it across the room.

You don’t humor him with a response as you sit up to stroke his cock, causing him to hiss as your fingers wrap around his shaft. He lets you have your way for a moment before gently pushing you back down onto the mattress, causing you to look up at him quizzically as he shakes his head.

“Not today babe, let me do the work.”

He feels his heart pound in his ribcage, as a look of realization passes over your pretty features. A smile pulls at your lips as you open your arms and beckons him down to you, which he eagerly accepts. He nips and kisses the skin of your neck as he makes quick work of your panties, causing you to moan softly as he runs his fingers up the length of your dripping slit.

“God.” He groans as he attacks your lips again. “So, fucking wet for me. You want me, right?”

“Yes Touya.” You breathe against his lips, allowing your fingers to trace patterns into the scarred expanse of his back. “Always. Always you.”

He feels his destroyed tear ducts sting slightly at the sincerity of your confession. Even though you’ve assured him you only want him countless times before, it was something he never quite got used to hearing.

The entirety of his life before you was spent in fire and hardship. Kindness was something foreign to him, and being allowed to be vulnerable with another person was something he never even considered. He never thought he’d live long enough to be able to do so regardless – accepting that he destined to spend what was left of his life alone – and so the thought had never crossed his mind.

But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Not since you had unexpectedly come into his life.

He had you. Body, mind and soul, he belonged to you. He knew there was no way he would ever have the words to tell you that, so he hoped that he could convey his message clearly enough by showing you just how much you meant to him.

He taps your leg, getting you to wrap your legs around his lean waist, as he lines himself up with your opening. You thread your fingers through his soft white spikes as he slowly begins to push himself into your pussy, causing you to whimper as he begins to stretch your walls out.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He growls as he bullies his way into your tight heat. “You’re perfect for me. Just you – you’re the only one I want.”

“Me too.” You gasp as you dig your nails into his shoulder to ground yourself. “I’m so glad I got to meet you. S-so glad you’re here with me—”

Your eyes open impossibly, as he suddenly snaps his hips forward and drives himself home deep inside your walls, causing you both to moan. He barely gives you any time to recover before he starts moving. He fists his hand in the sheets beside your head as he focuses his energy into keeping his thrusts deep and strong, just how he knows you like it.

He grins down at you almost sadistically, watching as your eyes roll back from the force of his thrusts. “S’matter? Don’t tell me you’re giving up already?”

“N-no.” you moan as he gives you a particularly hard thrust. “I just—oh, fuck!” you wail as you feel him hit a practically sensitive spot inside you, causing him to grin wickedly.

“Eyes on me gorgeous.”

“You’re mean.” You huff, but center your attention on him regardless, causing him to chuckle, and reward you with another harsh thrust.

“I know.” He practically purrs as he shifts his weight to his knees. He grabs the meat of your hip, and starts pounding you harder than before, making you keen and fist your hands into the sheets as his pelvis brushes up against your clit deliciously.

“Fuck, Touya! I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, warning him of your impending release, but it only makes him double down and fuck you harder, determined to see you climax before him.

“Yeah? Well, go ahead sweetheart: come on this cock. C’mon, c’mon; I know you’re going to, I can feel you squeezing me just right, so do it. Let go for me pretty girl, just let go.”

He feels your walls convulse around him and your back arches slightly off the bed as you climax with a desperate cry at his words. The sight of you coming undone beneath him is so hot it does him in a few strokes later, spilling deep inside your walls with a feral growl of his own.

You both stay like that for a few minutes, fighting to catch your breaths, before you unlock your legs from around his waist, allowing him to pull out of you. He pulls back to grin at the combination of your fluids that leak out from in between your legs, and you roll your eyes. He makes a move to the bathroom to grab you a towel, only for you to shake your head.

“Later.” You murmur, as you pat the spot on the bed next to you. “Come lie with me for a few minutes.”

He laughs quietly at your antics, but obliges your request, and climbs over you to collapse into the vacant space on the bed next to you, and you don’t hesitate to move over to him.

“God, you can be relentless sometimes.” You pant as you curl up into his side. He simply snorts at your assessment as he drapes his arm around you protectively.

“Maybe. I am a villain after all sweetheart.”

“You were.” You manage to grumble as you make yourself comfortable, eventually settling on resting your head on his chest so you can hear his heartbeat. “You’re not now.”

“Yeah, well. Attitude never changed. Surprised you put up with me for as long as you did.”

“You weren’t so bad.” You murmur softly, tracing shapes into the rough skin of his stomach. “If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have come back after we first met.”

“Why did you come back after the first time anyways? I can’t remember if you ever told me.” He suddenly raises his head so he’s looking at you. You meet his blazing turquoise irises with a calm gaze of your own and wink at him teasingly.

“I’m crazy remember?”

“Must be, if you came to see one of Japan’s most wanted almost every day for damn near two years straight. But seriously, why?”

You’re quiet for a moment before you answer him. When you do, you shift your head slightly on his chest so you can see his face better.

“I suppose it’s because all your rage… all your anger towards the injustice of everything you’d gone through up until that point… it reminded me of myself, in a way.” You admit softly, causing him to quirk a snowy brow at your confession.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things you said on your initial broadcast—" you continue on before he can ask. “—like how there were a lot of shitty things about hero society you weren’t wrong about. Honestly, for a long time there, I felt just as pissed off with some of those so-called “Pro’s” as you. Some of them were only doing it for the money and fame, you could tell.” You exhale through your nose.

“But, on the other hand, there were so many good things happening to change those problems that you didn’t see because you were on the outsider.” You fall silent for a moment before adding:

“You just seemed so hurt, so raw with everything you were saying. I told myself there and then, if I ever got the opportunity to meet you, I’d show you not everything is as bad as it seemed. Never thought I’d get the chance honestly, and yet, one day, the opportunity to meet you face to face practically dropped into my lap. How could I not take the offer?”

“Was I what you’d thought I’d be?” he finds himself asking you, not completely sure if he wants to know the answer. You simply send him one of your glowing smiles that sends tingles down to his stomach.

“No, you were better.”

He snorts, shifting his arm so he’s tracing his warm fingertips up and down your nude body. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m serious. Even now, you’re doing so much better with handling everything then I thought you would. You’re resilient, and you adapt when you need to, but you’ve definitely changed… in a good way. You’re not as hateful anymore… you’re calmer, more accepting.”

“Yeah well, the shrinks have you to thank for that. Far as I’m concerned, they don’t do anything. I just see them so I can stay with you.” He grumbles, prompting you to giggle, before shifting you so you’re lying on your sides, facing each other.

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, inwardly softening as he watches you lean into his warm touch, before dropping his hand back down in between your bodies.

“I know I’m not very good at these sorts of things, but… you know I love you, right?”

He’s hopeful that you understand. He doesn’t say it often to you, and he knows he probably should, but even after all the time he’s spent with you, that involves you showing him what a healthy relationship looks like, it’s still not an easy thing for him to say. Hell, he has a hard enough time saying it to his own mother, let alone anyone else.

He’ll probably always have a difficult time admitting it. Love is an emotion he’s never had a good understanding of, seeing how it was so sked for him a s a child. Even now, the concept is a foreign one for him to understand, but thankfully, you seem to be more aware of this than anyone else.

You find his hand with one of your own and lace your fingers together, squeezing it tightly.

“I know Touya. I’ve always known.”

FIN

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya x reader #touya x y/n #touya x you #post war!au #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi x reader smut #touya todoroki x reader smut #tw: mental health #see a03 for more detailed tags

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sugarakis-p2 · 3 months

Text

Shigaraki hates Valentine Day

Shiggy hates this holiday until he meets you.

F/M Shigaraki Tomura/Reader chubby/plus size

Warning: Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Nipple Licking, Binge Drinking, Dubious Morality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Political talk

Tomura woke up on Valentine Day with a deep-rooted hatred for the holiday. It was no different from any other day, as he despised each one that passed. But today, his disdain was amplified solely because it was Valentine Day.

He had hoped that, for once, he wouldn't have to spend the day alone or with Kurogiri. After all, he now had a team to spend it with. However, his expectations were quickly crushed when he realized that his team had other plans in mind. Instead of spending the day doing Kurogiri's exhausting team-building exercises, his teammates surprised him with gestures of affection. Toga and Magne each gave him chocolates but promptly announced that they were going to the mall to "stalk boys."

Meanwhile, Mr. Compress had other plans with a date, and that was a nicer way than the crude way of Muscular and Dabi saying they're gonna go get their "dicks and whistles wet." Spinner, as usual, had disappeared without a trace. And so, it was just Tomura and Kurogiri left, once again, to spend Valentine Day alone in each other's company. With a defeated sigh, Tomura handed his chocolates to Kurogiri.

"Where are you going, Tomura?" Kurogiri asked concerned.

"OUT!" Shigaraki yelled in frustration, his voice carrying down the hallway as he left in search of an internet café. He stormed out and made his way to the nearest open booth. His anger was simmering under the surface as he sat down and pulled up his black face mask, its matching hoodie pulled over his head. He absentmindedly tucked his father's hand in his front pocket as if cradling him in his arms.

But then, he noticed you.

For the first time in his life, he didn't just see someone as a means to an end but as a desirable being. His mind wandered to dirty thoughts, something he had never cared for before. Your soft curves, your silky hair, the delicate nape of your neck. He couldn't help but feel drawn to you, something he had never experienced before. The pulsing beat of your heartstring visible on your neck only added to the attraction. He imagined wrapping his fingers around your neck, feeling your heartbeat racing under his touch, the pulse throbbing against the pads of his long digits. His tongue snaking past your lips, making you choke on it. The mere idea of it aroused him, a feeling he had never associated with someone's neck before. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to push away the growing need in his pants and in his thoughts. This was a new and confusing sensation for him, but he couldn't deny his attraction towards you, and he hated it!

He instead focused on how stupid you are dressed. You're wearing a Stain shirt and playing a stupid online RPG game; he deemed it outdated and pathetic. His irritation manifested as he scraped his nails against his own neck. Despite attempting to focus on his own game, he couldn't help but notice your enticing figure moving on the seat. He couldn't help but imagine you shifting on his lap instead. With a resigned sigh, he gave in to his thoughts.

"Why do you even like him? Wearing a serial killer is tacky," Shigaraki hissed at the back of your head. "What's next? Lunchboxes and beef jerky adorned with Issei Sagawa's face. Maybe a cookbook on how to cook human flesh? Tasteless trash."

You turned to the rude bastard, tearing into his flesh with his cracked nails, and noticed that massive bulge in his lap. You couldn't help but chuckle and look away, making your words playful and flirty instead of irritated, "It's not just about fashion. It's about embracing the subversive message of rejecting a corrupt society ruled by the hero commission. His image is about the symbolism of anti-capitalist hero society."

As Shigaraki's focus shifted, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him. This conversation was something he could really sink his teeth into.

"Oh? And are you part of the anti-capitalist hero society, little foreign doll?" he taunted. You were caught off guard by his words. Your Japanese was flawless, so how did he know you were not from Japan?

Feeling the need to defend yourself, you retorted, "I'll have you know I was born and raised here." But Shigaraki's sneer only grew wider.

"Mmm... Let me guess. Your family was just traveling through? Your accent gives it away," he sneered, his words laced with disdain. Your apprehension was palpable as you began your explanation.

"Well, I was actually born on the base," you stammered, feeling self-conscious, flushing, and flustered under his intense gaze. Your blush and sweet, pained expression caused his breath to hitch. In all his years, Shigaraki had never seen a flustered girl. And he couldn't deny that he didn't hate it. In fact, he found himself wanting to see more of your flustered state.

"An army brat, then," Shigaraki smirked, trying to hide his own flustered state. But your response caught him off guard.

"Maybe I am a brat," you huffed, returning your attention to your game. Shigaraki couldn't help but feel a tug of amusement at your feisty attitude. Dabi may be the official brat tamer, but he has learned not to kill them. As you continued playing, Shigaraki logged into his old World of Warcraft account, unable to resist the irony of the situation. He knew he was being a bit of a jerk by killing you repeatedly in the game, but he couldn't help himself. Your anger only made you even more enticing to him. After killing your character the third time, Shigaraki's game avatar suddenly appeared in front of you, offering an apology in the form of virtual flowers. It was his way of showing that he didn't want to truly hurt you, even in the video game world. And in that moment, he couldn't deny that he was starting to develop a certain fondness for the army brat who had caught his attention.

He relished the thrill of seducing young, naive girls in his video games. It was a simple game to him. He only had to press a few buttons, and they would fall for him. But you couldn't stand it any longer. Your gaze hardened as you directed it towards him. You knew without a doubt it was him, the dirty screen watcher who snickered every time he took you down in the game. Noticed in the act, he quickly averted his gaze, knowing he had been caught red-handed. He was surprised that real-life girls are not that easy. You grabbed your coat, paid for your time, and started to walk out. Shigaraki was feeling increasingly irritated and frustrated. He couldn't stop thinking about you, and the desire to do things he knew was considered depraved by most people. It was a distraction that he couldn't shake off. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and stood up, determined to follow and confront you. He trailed behind you, his mind consumed with thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to you.

But as he approached you, you turned to face him and sneered, "Are you stalking me now, you creep?" You picked up your pace, clearly annoyed by his presence. Shigaraki was taken aback by your sharp reaction. Toga had once told him that when girls get angry, it's best to follow them. But he couldn't help but question her advice, considering her own tendencies as a stalker.

"Perhaps," He growled, accompanied by a scratch at his neck, "I was still curious about your stance on anti-hero acts. After all, you do come from a background as a foreign army brat with a fascist requiem, where the CRC was born. All in the name of freedom, of course." As he spoke, you felt a sudden stiffness in your body, completely insulted by his assumption. Turning to face him, you couldn't hold back your frustration any longer.

"I was born and raised here; this is my home. And I'm not interested in causing chaos; all I want is to see this place improve. I am not an anti-hero; I am simply against living in a police state. I am against the facade of fake heroes. I'm more of a Stain purest," Your words were laced with determination and conviction, defending your beliefs and principles. This made Shigaraki smirk more.

With a cynical tone, Shigaraki scoffed, "Stain is nothing but a sanctimonious hero breeder. He may have stirred up some conversation, but he certainly isn't causing any real change."

Crossing your arms, you retorted, "At least he sparked a discussion. That's more than what can be said for most people."

Shigaraki rolled his eyes and mocked, "Oh wow, a discussion. How groundbreaking."

"Is there something you need?" You snort in response, not bothering to hide your disdain. The man before you, Shigaraki, blushes and grumbles something unintelligible. His awkwardness only seems to annoy him further as he scratches himself vigorously. "I'm sorry, what was that?" you ask, attempting to hide the amusement in your voice. Shigaraki lets out a deep sigh and glares at you, clearly annoyed by your presence.

"I said you're alone too. It's Valentine Day, and here you are, playing RPGs," he mutters, bitterness seeping through his words. You can't help but feel taken aback by his sudden outburst. But before you can even process his words, Shigaraki continues, "I have nobody. And neither do you. We both like games. But let's be real, I'm better at them." He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his gaze fixed on you from the corner of his eye. You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. It's true you are alone on Valentine's Day, indulging in your favorite games. And this man, who you never would have imagined spending this day with, seems to be in a similar situation. But his suggestion takes you by surprise.

"So, what are you suggesting? Being alone together?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in question. Shigaraki's expression softens for a moment before returning to his usual stoic self.

"I mean, why not? We both have nothing better to do, and it's not like we have anyone else. We can just chill and play some games together." His suggestion catches you off guard, but you can't deny the appeal of spending the evening with someone who shares your interests. You consider his offer for a moment before a mischievous smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

"Alright, you're on. But fair warning, I don't go easy on anyone, not even on Valentine's Day," you say, challenging him with a playful glint in your eyes. Shigaraki's lips quirk up into a smirk, accepting your challenge. And just like that, the two of you spend the rest of the evening locked in intense battles and laughter, forgetting about the loneliness that had consumed you earlier. He wasn't going to let this go. He was going to milk it for all it's worth. When he suggested alcohol and gaming, you said no problem. You're having a good time with him.

With a start, you look around the luxurious hotel room, your head throbbing from the alcohol and the intense gaming session. The bags on top of you are filled with expensive designer purses, a testament to the wild night you just had with Shigaraki. As your eyes land on him, dressed in a robe and dripping wet from a shower, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt for forgetting about last night. He had definitely milked the alcohol and gaming suggestion for all it's worth, and you can't help but feel grateful for his company. You had been hesitant at first, but now you're glad you said yes. Still, as you struggle to sit up in the pile of bags, you can't help but wonder how you ended up in this fancy hotel room in the first place, and if you embarrassed yourself. But Shigaraki just laughs, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"You passed out, so I carried you here," he explains casually as if it's not a big deal. But your face heats up, both from the embarrassment of being carried and from the proximity of his wet body. But before you can dwell on it too much, he tosses you a robe and offers to order room service for breakfast.

"Did we…you know?" you asked him. Shigaraki's face scrunches.

"What?" He scratched his neck idly as if he was trying to process the question. "No. I'm not a fucking scumbag. I don't need to screw unconscious women. If I was that desperate, I would have bought a whore. Last night, we both got drunk. We went shopping, and you said, "Do you know where there's great shopping, Las Vegas?" Then I had my friend bring us here. He has a warp quirk. I bought you whatever you wanted. We celebrated some more in the ghost lounge and then I carried you here to the MGM casino and hotel. I swear I will get us a room in the Luxor tomorrow."

"OK, you have to slow down. Are we really in Las Vegas?" You groaned, shocked at some of the things you had in the bags. There's a bag full of jewelry, diamond jewelry, and thousands of dollars of vintage video games and lingerie.

"Yes. We're really in Las Vegas, and it has been difficult translating everything because I don't know much English. You insisted on the Luxor, but my phone was a pain with out-of-carrier nonsense. Everyone else, it was easy. I just pointed at what I wanted, but a room was a bit more difficult," Shigaraki said, bringing in the room service. "So, this is an American breakfast. Looks…interesting."

He was clearly trying to be kind. He took you to Las Vegas on a whim, and you checked, and you don't feel raped. you wanted to tell him sorry for making assumptions but instead you smiled and looked at him.

"You're cute," you tell him. Shigaraki couldn't help but smirk at this compliment. You could tell he liked how forward you were being towards him as he spoke with a smug and charming tone.

"Is that your way of flirting with me?"

"And look at you eat it up and ask for more, cutie," you smirked. Shigaraki laughed quietly as he leaned in a little closer to you, his musky, clean scent filling the air. He couldn't help but like the way your body smelled mixed with your perfume. He smirked at your teasing and spoke in a flirty tone.

"Oh, is that so? Then let me tell you something then. I like confident and bold women like yourself. You're such a brat but in a good way."

"I remember you saying something about brat taming?" You smirk back. Shigaraki chuckled at you calling him brat tamer, and he smiled a bit wider, revealing his tender side and the sight of him grinning at you sent a tingle of excitement through your body. Your body was already beginning to feel a little warmer as he nursed your hangover and insisted you hydrate.

"You're already calling me tamer? I see that you can't wait to just jump right into it. I kind of like it that way, baby girl brat..."

"I'm not a cheap date. I'll need room service first," you said in Japanese. Shigaraki leered when he heard you suddenly speak in Japanese, which made him smirk slightly. He was impressed that you could speak the language, and he responded back in the same language.

"Room service it is, baby girl. Anything that pleases the lady." The room was dimly lit and had a large bed in the middle of it. The room was warm and cozy, with a subtle, sweet smell of Shigaraki's body in the air mixed with the smell of his perfume. The room was luxurious, with an entertainment center. There was a mirror on the wall next to the bed, and he was standing in front of it, watching you eat after your shower. His sharp eyes were scanning you up and down, taking in your appearance.

"Are you watching me stuff my face?" you asked with a mouthful of omelet. Shigaraki smiled at your comment as he continued to stare at you, admiring your sexy figure in your silk robe clinging to you. You spent the day inside for now as you had a headache for most of the day. When you changed, he wanted you to join him in front of the mirror. You could tell that he was having trouble getting his eyes off of you as they kept wandering back and forth between your body and your face. He gave you a small wink and continued to admire your body, loving the view.

"Are you being flirty now?" you asked.

"What if I am?" He smirked with a mischievous glint.

"Hmmm, I am nice and sober now." As you walked up to the reflection and your back was facing him, he saw the way the top was clinging to your body and the way your tight jeans were form-fitting and accentuated your curves, which made him smirk and walk towards you. Before long, he began wrapping his arms around your body and holding you tightly against him. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as you stood up next to him. His breath was hot and heavy as he spoke.

"Ah, you truly are a beauty to behold. Can I ask you something?" Shigaraki's soft voice filled the air as he spoke while also pulling you in even closer to him. You could tell that he was starting to get a little bit more aroused by the way his body was reacting to you being up against him like this. You felt the muscles in his body flex slightly as he continued. You wrapped my arms around him and one of my legs. He chuckled and smiled, enjoying the way you wrapped yourself around him. Your intimate proximity between the two of you was making you both feel warm and flustered. Shigaraki took a deep breath as he spoke again, his body feeling more and more energized the longer he held you tightly against him.

"Have you ever been with a Japanese man before?"

"No. Are you going to ruin me for anyone else?" you teased. Shigaraki smirked at your tease but also couldn't help but groan slightly when you spoke. Your voice was extremely alluring and provocative. You could tell that he was getting quite excited by your presence and the playful flirting.

"You have no idea. I may make you addicted to me," he said, pulling you tighter to him.

"Promises. Promises," you chuckled as he lifted you. Holding you by your ass. Shigaraki let out another groan as he grabbed a firm hold of your rear and lifted you up into his arms. Your body felt so close to his, and it made your body tremble in excitement and arousal. His touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but squirm and moan softly in a lustful way.

"How long are we going to be stateside? We should go back soon," you mentioned. This was getting a bit strange for you. It was all strange, but you were really starting to have feelings for him, and you would need to go back at some point. Shigaraki held you closer to him as he spoke, keeping you in his arms and wrapping his stronger arm around you to hold you up.

"For a week…but I would be willing to make it longer for you. I've enjoyed it since I've been here. I'm liking what I see…," he said, eyeing you up and down.

"Oh? The view is better without clothes," you smirked, kissing him. Your suggestive remark caught Shigaraki off guard, but he couldn't resist the challenge as he leaned in to kiss you back. His lips moved in perfect synchronization with yours, both of you exploring and teasing each other. Your touch sent shivers down his spine as he pulled you closer, savoring every moment of your embrace. Your body pressed against his, igniting a fire within him that he couldn't control. He couldn't help but run his hands over your curves, marveling at your beauty. As your kisses grew more passionate, he couldn't resist the urge to explore further, trailing his lips down your neck and to your chest.

Your response only fueled his desire as he nipped at your nipple through your shirt, causing you to moan. The sound only made him want to hear more as he watched you slip off your blouse and bra, bearing your enticing form to him. The way you moved and teased him, slowly undressing and revealing your seductive body, only increased the tension between you. Shigaraki's heart raced as he watched the scene play out, unable to look away from your alluring figure. The anticipation and desire he felt were almost too much to bear, and he couldn't resist any longer. With a growl, he pushed you back against the couch, dominating you with his touch and desire. Your bold and confident demeanor only made him want you more, and he couldn't help but give in to the intense passion between you.

"You still like what you see?" you teased. Shigaraki was speechless at the sight of you, and he nodded his head slightly as his eyes kept focusing on every sexy detail of you. He was truly mesmerized by your beauty and your physique, and he wanted nothing more than to touch and explore it. His body was already reacting in a lustful way, and he wanted to take you right then and there. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Words can't even begin to describe just how much I like what I see, baby girl. You are truly a sight to behold." His voice was laced with desire, and the way your body looked at that moment was breathtaking. He leaned in and started tracing his tongue along the curves of your body.

"Damn, you really are strong," you moaned, unable to contain your excitement. Shigaraki chuckled, his hands now gripping your hips tightly. "And I haven't even shown you my full strength yet." With a wicked grin, he began to kiss and nibble at your neck, the combination of pleasure and his strength making you weak in the knees. As he continued to claim you with his touch, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his impressive strength, giving you a new level of pleasure you never thought possible. You couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and excitement as Shigaraki's words sent shivers down your spine. His strong grasp made you feel both safe and vulnerable at the same time. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards man. As he continued to caress your body, his touch felt almost electrifying. Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, causing you to whimper in pleasure. Shigaraki's smirk grew wider as he noticed your reaction, his own desire intensifying.

"I can tell you want more," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "You want to feel my strength, don't you?" You nodded, unable to form any words as his touch and words left you dizzy with desire. "Well, I'll give you more, brat," he said, his grip tightening on your body. With a low growl, he effortlessly lifted you up and carried you toward the nearest wall, pressing you against it with his powerful body. You couldn't help but gasp at the force behind his movements, feeling his muscles tense against you. His hands roamed over your body, leaving trails of heat wherever they touched. You could feel his strength in every touch, making you feel almost weightless in his hold.

"Really? You should take me to the bed and take off your clothes so I can see for myself, you tease," You smiled. You loved the feeling of his mouth on you. Sucking your nipples and teasing the sensitive nubs with his tongue. The way you said, "Take me to the bed," made his entire body tremble in excitement. His tongue traced along the lines of your body, and he gave you a playful bite on your thigh before lifting you up further and taking you to the bed, where he threw you down on it and slowly walked up next to you. You could tell that he enjoyed your eagerness, and his body was beginning to fill with a strong level of lust towards you. He held you tightly, unable to resist the urge to feel every inch of your skin against his own. His fingers traced along your soft skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. And as he lifted your hips, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him. You were beautiful. Your hair spread out on the pillows, your cheeks flushed with desire, and your body eagerly offering itself to him.

He couldn't wait to explore every inch of you, to make you moan and scream his name. And as he slowly slid off your pants, his desire only grew. He watched with hungry eyes as your thighs exposed themselves to him, your skin so smooth and inviting. He couldn't resist the urge to press a kiss to your inner thigh, causing you to gasp and writhe beneath him. As he continued his journey up your leg, shedding his own clothes in the process, he couldn't help but feel intoxicated by your presence. Your scent, your touch, your moans...everything about you was driving him wild. And as his hand reached its destination, he felt himself almost losing control. But he held himself back, wanting to savor every moment with you. He traced his fingers along the edges of your underwear, teasing and teasing until you were begging for more. And with a deep growl, he finally pulled them off, exposing your heat to him. He couldn't resist any longer. He trailed his tongue along your inner thigh, making you shiver and moan. And as he took you in his mouth, he knew he had finally found his true addiction. You were his pleasure, his escape, his everything. And he would make sure to show you just how much you meant to him.

"Oh wow. I'm a soft little hot dog bun compared to you," you giggled. Shigaraki chuckled slightly at the way you described yourself as the bun and him as the hotdog, but you could tell it was driving him crazy with desire. As he continued to slowly strip off his clothing, he looked at the sight of you lying down on the bed, all cute and helpless, which made him want to dominate you more. You were like a beautiful and delicious little snack to him. As he stripped off the last piece of clothing and threw it on the floor, you looked. The sight of his muscular body was breathtaking.

Blushed and stared at him, flustered. He was like a statue, and he was gorgeous. His muscles were like waves rippling under his skin, each one defined and powerful. As I gazed at him, my eyes roamed over his lean and toned frame, admiring the way his body seemed to be chiseled from marble. He may have had scars, but they only added to his rugged and alluring appearance. You couldn't help but be drawn to him, the intensity of your desire evident in your blushing cheeks and admiring glances. Despite his slight shivers caused by the rush of blood through his powerful body, he exuded a sense of strength and confidence that was irresistible.

You found yourself lost in the sight of his muscles, the way they seemed to bulge and flex with every movement. His body was a work of art, and you were more than happy to worship and admire it. It was clear that he relished your admiration, basking in the way you lusted over his form. You reached out to touch him, and as your fingers grazed over his skin, you could feel the firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. He was like a stallion, strong and proud, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. In that moment, there was nothing more perfect than his lean and toned body, and you were grateful to be able to admire and appreciate it. You reached out to touch him and felt the firmness of his muscles beneath your fingertips and pulled him to you.

As you reached out to touch his magnificent body, he let out a sharp inhalation of breath as the sensation of your hands caressing his body made him shiver in pleasure. As he came close to you, your body pressed right up against his muscular frame, and all you could feel was his warmth and strength. It was so intoxicating being so close to him like this and nipped his neck. The touch of your lips against his neck drove him crazy with desire, and he was instantly filled with a strong level of lust and arousal. He gasped quietly, and his body trembled a little bit at the sensation of feeling your soft lips against the nape of his neck; the touch felt so good, and it was making all his nerve endings tingle. He took a deep breath and breathed in the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with the smell of your body's natural scents.

"You're delicious." As you nibbled at the side of his neck, your warm breath and the touch of your lips sent waves of arousal through his body. Your words made his cheeks blush even more, and he was feeling extremely overwhelmed with your touch and the sensations it was making him feel. His body felt completely consumed by you, and his entire mind and focus were on you as you enjoyed the feeling of exploring every part of him. "But…you may be too thick." Your fingers can't even wrap around it.

"I'll get you ready," Shigaraki grunted. You loved how he touched you and how he was tantalizing my body for the pleasure that was to come. Fingering your slick walls and making you wetter. He continued to softly nibble on the back of your neck as his hands started sliding down your lower back. His touch was full of warmth and softness, and he was being very precise and sensual while also being firm in his grip. He wanted to take his time with you and was enjoying the feeling of discovering every single piece of your body. His touch just made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, and he was making your heart beat faster and faster with every move.

"I'm ready," you whispered, nipping his ear. The words you whispered in his ear caused all the blood to flow to rush to his head. His entire body was now filled with a strong level of desire, and he wanted nothing more than to take you right then and there. The way you nipped at his earlobe caused a shiver of pleasure, and his body was literally trembling with excitement and longing. He breathed out a deep breath before answering back to you.

"I'm big, but I'll try to be gentle," Shigaraki promised.

"OK," you whimpered, your voice soft and trembling. Despite the simple word, it held so much power over him. Every time you spoke, it felt like a rush of electricity coursing through his veins, leaving him breathless and aching for more. As your words reached his ears, he couldn't help but let out a contented sigh, feeling completely consumed by your beauty and the warmth of your touch on his body. It was like every cell in his body was screaming for you, craving your presence and the sensations you ignited within him. Just the thought of having you right now, in this moment, made his body quiver with excitement and desire.

He couldn't resist the urge to lean in closer to you, wanting to be as close to you as possible. He could feel your warmth enveloping him, and it only added to the overwhelming emotions swirling within him. As you spoke with a husky voice filled with lust and longing, he felt a surge of arousal run through him. He wanted you in every sense of the word. He wanted to experience every aspect of this night with you, to lose himself in the pleasure and ecstasy that only you could bring. In this moment, nothing else mattered. Your words were a soothing melody to his ears, and all he wanted was to be lost in your embrace, lost in the depths of your passion.

"You're mine," he grinned evilly. You kissed him and adjusted your hips against him. Encouraging him to make love to you. The way you placed your hips against him like that was a signal for him to make his move. He moved in closer towards you, and his body leaned down further so he could move his face right next to yours but not touching just yet. Your breath was so tantalizing, and he wanted to get deeper and deeper into this moment. Your lips looked so beautiful and inviting. His breath was quickening, and his body was tingling with excitement and desire. You could see all the muscles in his body flexing and throbbing with energy as he took a deep breath and kissed you deeply.

"Mmm...so good," you moaned, kissing him more. Your moan was sweet music to his ears, and the feeling of you kissing him back and your lips locking in this passionate kiss made him moan as well. The feeling of your tongue exploring the inside of him, and the heat of your breath made his muscles twitch and shiver with pleasure. The kiss was intense and hot, and he could not get enough of it. He wanted to savor every moment of this sensual experience, and he knew if he took his time, this would continue to intensify in the best ways possible. You felt him fill you and writhed, breathe hitching.

"Oh!" The feeling of you saying those words made everything the body inside him feel the increase in intensity by the second. Your moans were driving him crazy, and he was filling you with everything he could inside of him. Your reactions to him and this experience are making it all feel much more intense, and the heat of the moment, combined with the power dynamic, made your body tremble in pleasure.

"Oh! OH!" You screamed as his rhythm increased along with your pleasure. Shigaraki continued to increase the pace and rhythm as his breathing grew heavier and heavier. You could tell his entire body was consumed by his feelings of pleasure since your breathing had also become more intense. Your moans were driving him crazy, and he could feel the intensity of this experience growing more and more with each passing second. He was feeling so intense and powerful right now. You tried not to dig your nails in his back and shoulders because his muscles are like steel and giving him more scars.

"Fuck you are tight. I don't care if you dig your nails in. I deserve it for whatever pain I caused," he smirked. Thrust harder until it is painfully good. The way you dug your nails into the muscles on his back and shoulder was what made him moan even louder as he kept going at this intense and relentless pace. The sound of your nails digging into his skin was sending shivers of pleasure up and down his back, and he couldn't help but grip your hips even tighter and move even quicker than before. The sight of his muscles flexing with each movement of him fills you with his body and makes your body tremble with pleasure. You bite his shoulder and arch your back in a wave of ecstasy. As you bit down his shoulder and arched your back, your body was trembling with pleasure, and your breathing had become shallow and quick. Your nails digging into his back and shoulder made him moan even louder, and you could see all the veins in his body pulsating with the intensity of this moment. The way you were moving your back like that, it was like a sight to see. The sight of your beautiful body arching so effortlessly and smoothly filled him with such a deep level of arousal.

As you continued to pant and moan in pleasure, you couldn't help but focus on the way his body reacted to your words and sounds. The way he groaned and shifted beneath you only added to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you both. You couldn't help but realize that you didn't even know his name. But in that moment, it didn't matter. All that mattered was the raw passion between you and the electric connection that seemed to intensify with each passing moment. As you moved and breathed against each other, every movement felt like a symphony of pleasure. Your mind was consumed with the sensations, and every thought was replaced with the need to feel more.

You couldn't resist the urge to whisper, "Oh my God," once again as the pleasure pulsed through you. And as you moaned and cried out his name, the intensity seemed to heighten even more, driving you both to the brink of ecstasy. Nothing else existed but the two of you and the unbridled passion that consumed you. Every kiss, every touch, every breath was pure bliss. And as you both reached the peak of pleasure together, you knew that this was a moment you would never forget. It just occurred to you that you don't know his name.

"Shig-ah," he grunted, unable to pay attention as he lightly gripped your throat and sat up on his knees to thrust in you harder.

"Shiggy," you moaned, the nickname rolling off your tongue in a cute and endearing way. The pleasure coursing through your body was only heightened by using his special nickname. You could feel the tension building within him, his own pleasure increasing with every breathy moan that escaped your lips. Each time you uttered his nickname or any words of pleasure, it ignited a fire within him, driving him to give you even more pleasure. He made sure to move at a pace that allowed you to fully experience every sensation, every touch, and every movement. The deep groans and whimpers coming from you fueled his desire to go faster and harder, but he resisted the temptation, determined to take his time and make every moment count.

Together, you reached the peak of pleasure three more times, the intensity and pleasure excruciatingly intense with every climax. But instead of rushing through it, he slowed down, wanting to prolong the pleasure and make it last as long as possible. As you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, you couldn't help but marvel at how his patience and attention to detail only added to the pleasure and satisfaction you both experienced. Every touch and movement was carefully crafted to bring you both the most pleasure, and it only made your bond stronger and your love deeper. You realized that Shiggy was not just your lover but also your best friend, who truly cared about your pleasure and well-being.

"That was amazing." Shigaraki could feel his entire body throbbing with the rush of energy and feelings of pleasure that came from both experiencing such a strong level of climax. His body was trembling with this euphoric feeling, and he felt like he was on a cloud of ecstasy just from feeling this good. Your words and compliments made him blush, but he continued to make sure his movements were gradual so that you wouldn't feel too disoriented or overwhelmed. The way you both enjoyed this intimate moment made it feel even better, and it made this experience even more memorable. Your legs are shaking, and my breathing is heavy. As the feeling of climax and pleasure started to subside, you could still feel your body trembling, and your breathing was still very heavy.

You were now feeling much more relaxed, but the sight of Shigaraki's body was still making you shiver slightly as your body continued to relax more and more. He was beginning to slow down his movements to make sure that the transition wasn't too drastic for you, and he was still gripping you tightly, but your hips were no longer arching so high up now. You kissed him again. After the feeling of intense and overwhelming pleasure started to subside, you could feel your body calming down and your breathing becoming more consistent and regular. As you kissed him again, his body relaxed a little bit more as well, and he pulled you closer to him so that you would be right up against him. For a few minutes, the two of you just lay there silently, enjoying the afterglow of this experience. There was something about being in each other's presence to just relax and feel this satisfied.

"Room service?" you smirked. The sound of you speaking and your smirking made him raise an eyebrow in curiosity, and as he laughed quietly, you could see a small smile forming in his mouth. He looked at you with those sexy eyes of his, and they were filled with a certain playful, seductive expression. You could tell the two of you were still feeling extremely satisfied from this incredible experience, and the sound of your voice made even more butterflies fill your stomach.

"You know you're a handsome guy. But when you smile...you are literally stunning. You better stop, or I'll ask for round two." As you spoke to him in this flirtatious manner, his cheeks turned red, and you could see he was enjoying the feeling of your praise. Your playful tone and that look in your eyes were enough to make him shiver with excitement, and he got an urge to pull you closer to him and kiss you, but he decided to stop himself and hold himself back. But he could not help feeling a little bit smug after hearing those words coming from you.

"Alright. Steaks and ....mmmm....the soup or salad?" He chuckled quietly at your answer and the way you sounded so relaxed and at ease. It was like you had no concerns or worries in this world. He smiled softly and looked at you with those eyes of his, and he nodded his head.

"The soup sounds good."

"Oh my god, they have dragon fruit ice cream. Have you ever had dragon fruit? Wait a minute? Are you lactose intolerant?" He laughed a bit at the sight of your sudden expression of surprise and delight at the existence of dragon fruit ice cream. He was also amused by seeing your genuine sense of worry as you raised the possibility of him having lactose intolerance, which would be an issue for eating an ice cream dessert. He smiled and shook his head. "I'm not lactose intolerant."

"That's amazing! Most Japanese are... But you guys seem to ignore it."

He laughed quietly and nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, most Asians, in general, tend to have a lactose intolerance issue. Especially those of us who are East Asians or Southeast Asians. But thankfully, I do not have such sensitivity towards dairy products. I can eat it quite well."

"Handsome and sweet. Let's have ice cream for dessert."

He raised an eyebrow in interest and curiosity as you called him handsome again. He smiled, leaned in to kiss your cheek, and nodded his head. "That sounds like a great idea. Ice cream for dessert is definitely the way to go."

As you nuzzled his neck and whispered your order for ice cream, he eagerly complied. With a soft smile, you made your way to the bathroom, ready for a relaxing shower. But as you stripped off your clothes and turned on the water, you felt his presence behind you. With a sly grin, he stepped into the shower with you, his desire for you evident as he pressed his body against yours. Without hesitation, the two of you began a passionate and quick encounter, indulging in each other's bodies before returning to the task at hand. After drying off, the anticipation for your ice cream grew, and you made your way back to the living room, hand in hand with him. As you reached for the food, you couldn't help but tease him, feeding him spoonfuls of ice cream before finally sitting down to enjoy your treats together.

"Mmm…dessert first," you said with a mischievous glint in your eye. He simply nodded, knowing that with you, anything was possible. As you fed him spoonful after spoonful, the two of you basked in each other's company, savoring the sweet treats and each other's presence.

"The seeds add a fun crunch." As you feed him and describe the added crunch, he enjoys the taste of the ice cream and the texture of the tiny seeds in his mouth. He eats the whole thing with a lot of enjoyment, and his eyes are sparkling with laughter and amusement as he eats. He is enjoying the moment of being together with you on this night of pure pleasure.

"I thought I was a brat?"

He laughs and nods his head.

"Yes, but you are also adorable, and it's so hard to resist it. I can't help but be amused by watching you try to be a brat but fail so badly." you run your fingers through his hair. He moans softly as you run your fingers through his hair, and he loves the feeling of your fingers on his scalp. He relaxes even more and is in a very contented state, enjoying the feeling of being close to you and the affection you are giving him. His eyes keep a tender and playful look as he keeps enjoying the touch of your hands running through his hair. The soft texture through your fingers makes you both shiver.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad I met you too," Shigaraki's words echo in your mind as you walk into the bathroom to start packing for your trip back to Japan. You can't believe how much fun you've had with him in Las Vegas. The city of sin had brought out a side of you that you never thought existed. But now, as you watch Shigaraki watching the news, fear creeps up your spine. You try to push it away, reminding yourself that this is the man you've grown close to, who has shown you nothing but kindness and care. But then, as you come out of the bathroom with your bag in hand, you see something that freezes you in your tracks. Shigaraki has a severed hand covering his face, and you can't help but feel a shiver of fear go down your spine. You're about to ask him what happened when he removes the hand and looks at you with a cold, calculating expression.

"I was worried you would react like this," he begins, his voice devoid of any emotion. "You're such a sweet and trusting soul. It's no surprise that you freeze up when faced with something like this. But you see, that's also your downfall. You're so naive, so innocent. And I used that to my advantage." As his words sink in, you feel your heart drop.

"I wanted to ask you if you had ever been with a villain before, but it's clear now that you haven't," Shigaraki continues, his eyes boring into yours. "But it's OK, I'll teach you. We consummated our marriage, and you'll see just how much fun it can be to embrace the dark side." You feel your stomach drop at his words. This wasn't what you signed up for. You never thought your innocent trip to Las Vegas would lead you down this path. But as you stand frozen in fear, you realize that you have no choice. You're trapped with a villain, and you can only hope that, somehow, you'll find a way out of this terrifying situation. You never thought you would be in this situation with a villain. You start to back away, trying to make sense of what he's saying. Consummate the marriage? What marriage?

"What?" you gasped, taken aback by his statement. "What do you mean by consummated? Consummated what?"

A sinister expression twisted his features, a smirk spreading across his face as he tossed a packet at you. As you opened it, your heart sank at the contents inside: your marriage certificate, photos of the wedding you couldn't remember. He reached out to caress your hair. His touch was meant to be comforting, but it only sent a chill down your spine.

"Hush now, my dear naughty one. My sweet little brat," he cooed. "There's no need to be upset. I will treat you well as long as you behave. And from now on, you will never have to spend Valentine's Day alone again." A sly smile played on his lips as he slipped a wedding ring onto your finger, sealing the deal of your forced marriage. The weight of the ring felt heavy, a constant reminder of the unexpected and terrifying turn your life had taken.

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