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caffeinewitchcraft · 1 year ago

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The Mayor's Daughter and the Outlaw

Summary: After ten years, you've finally got your shot at your revenge. You've found the Hero. You have him in your sights.

-----

Pull the trigger.

You’ve worked too hard not to pull the trigger. The sweat, blood and tears you’ve shed have been the least you’ve given to be here. The air is crisp and clean nearly a hundred feet up in a pine tree overlooking a remote forest. You’re probably the only person in the world capable of spotting the brown, camouflaged building spanning the length of the small river running through the valley. There’s a hologram of the river it’s covering playing over the building’s walls. Hell, there are even birds flicking occasionally across the illusion, not often enough to draw attention, but just often enough their movement sends your eyes darting to other trees, trying to find where they went.

You breathe in the scent of sun-heated sap so slowly that it takes a solid minute for your lungs to expand. Your pupils flex and adjust whenever the wind rocks your tree. The window you’ve been staring at for the past hour remains in your focus.

The Sun, hair just as fake-gold as it was ten years ago, sleeps on. He’s definitely older now that you can see him in real life instead of on magazine covers or under studio lights. The skin of his neck is loose and folded under the weight of his chin drooping towards his chest. His eyes flicker under his eyelids. The bastard still has the audacity to dream. His arms are crossed over the sun motif emblazoned across his breastplate, his dust-covered boots kicked up on his desk so you can see how worn the soles are. Judging by the way his lips tremble, he’s snoring.

Pull the trigger.

You exhale. This is when you should do it. When your shoulders drop and the wind dies so that, for a moment, the world stands still. There are no whispers across the canopy. Every bough is frozen. The reflection of the sun in the river is overcome by a well-timed cloud and the Sun’s head tilts back to expose the long line of his throat.

The trigger presses back against your finger like an eager puppy. There’s nothing special about the bullets, nothing special about this gun. It’s not the right weapon for what you’re asking it to do, but you’ve had longer and harder shots. You know that you’ll shoot true and the confidence steadies your hand even more. You smoothly pull--

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back.

Your pupils dilate at the memory. For a moment you don’t see the Sun; you see her with her face burned as red as her prom dress. You try to dispel the image, try to remember that she didn’t die in her prom dress, but it’s too late.

I want you to live, Elian.

You’re suddenly aware of how your lungs ache and your legs burn from the way they’re wrapped around the tree and the bark is digging into your cheek and your fingers are like ice on the trigger. You’re out in the middle of nowhere. This is the Sun’s private residence. The security must be insane even if there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around. What’s your exit strategy again? Your thoughts scatter as her voice rings through your head again.

More than anything, I want you to live.

-------Ten years ago----

You’re what the heroes tactfully call a nuisance. A juvenile delinquent with powers, aka a kid that the police aren’t equipped to handle and the local Hero chapter is too overqualified and too understaffed to address often.

Your moral compass has never had a true north and it only gets worse the more your powers develop. Soon you aren’t just stealing your mom’s car – you’re stealing the neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s neighbor’s until you’re breaking into houses at the top of the hill and joyriding in a car worth more than your entire neighborhood together.

You find out pretty quickly that the heroes care a lot more when money is involved.

You spend your first night in jail after getting chased for three hours in a neon green lambo by the four heroes packed like sardines in a standard issue SUV. It’s laughably easy to out-drive them, choking around corners and careening down alleys that you scouted in the afternoon. Honestly, it would have been easy to get away, but your mom called just as the tank hit empty, asking when you were coming home. You decided to give the heroes a break before they decided to play too rough with a minor.

Mom isn’t thrilled when you tell her you won’t be home in time for school tomorrow.

You kind of expect to be sent to prison the next day when you find out just whose car you stole. The Mayor’s daughter’s car, bought new for her seventeenth birthday a month ago. There are two open secrets about the mayor. One, he’s probably one of the heroes that protect the city judging from how much he praises them every time there’s a mic nearby. Two, he loves his daughter more than anything else.

So when you’re released the next day with a slap on the wrist? Yeah, you’re surprised.

When you’re released the next day to find the golden-haired, blue-eyed Mayor’s daughter waiting outside? Having just bailed you out?

You feel fear for the first time.

“You could have at least crashed it,” she says when she notices you gaping at her from the end of the parking lot. She’s leaning against the hood of a black SUV that looks a lot like the one the heroes chased you in last night. She waves a hand in the air. “Dad says the dents you put in the side will be out by tomorrow.”

Fear, apparently, makes you snarky. “What, you wanted to spend another week getting chauffeured by a hero?”

Her brows jerk up towards her hairline. She throws a glance over her shoulder. “You seeing ghosts? Nobody’s in there. I drove myself.”

“Good for you,” you say. You think you smell. They didn’t give you access to a shower last night. You’re upwind from her and damnit why are you embarrassed if you smell or not? Your chin jerks forward in a challenge. “You gonna give me a ride back home?”

You’re joking, but she nods like it was the plan all along. “Let’s go.”

Is that an answering challenge in her words? Your teeth grind as you force yourself forward. “Very kind of you,” you chirp, swinging up into the passenger seat. The car smells like leather and justice. “Just drop me off on the other side of the train tracks. I can find my way home from there.”

She snorts. “Is that a Footloose reference? Very dated.”

You stare at her profile. “…No. I literally live on the other side of the tracks.”

She flushes. “Right. Well…I’m not dropping you off yet. I want to talk first.”

The doors are locked. You swallow as she carefully pulls out of the parking lot and then guns it into the road without looking. Luckily, no one’s there. “Talk? About what?”

“About how you’re going to steal my car again,” she says. “And this time you’re going to crash it right.”

“You hate the color that much?” you joke.

Her tone is not joking. “You have no idea.”

You don’t find out her name until dinner when your mom’s managed to entice her into a third slice of homemade pizza. She stares down at the slice while your mom waves for you not to stay up too late before going to bed early. Gamely, you’re already on your fifth helping. Criminal activity takes a lot of energy.

“Does your mom know who I am?” she asks.

“Like, in theory,” you say. You’re full and warm as you lean into the hard wooden back of your chair. Mom added olives to your side of the pizza. “She probably doesn’t know you’re the Mayor’s daughter though. Just that he has one.”

“The Mayor…right,” she says. Her jaw firms. She flicks some olives off her pizza and then eats half the slice in one bite. “I’m Gina.”

“Elian,” you say instead of No, you’re the Mayor’s Daughter. You refill her soda cup before your own, just to show her you can be fancy and have manners too. She’s so out of place in your family’s one bedroom apartment. Her shirt is crisp and white, her gold necklace so shiny, that it’s like there’s a sepia filter over the eggshell walls and oak cabinets. “Sprite. Only the finest for the lady who bailed me out.”

“I’m thinking you can take my car next weekend,” Gina says so abruptly you nearly spit out your soda. There’s a hard light in her eyes. “Dad’s out of town for…business. He won’t notice for a few days. You take it, you get out of the city, you drive it off a cliff once you’ve wrecked it doing donuts or whatever.”

“A cliff?” You know exactly where she’s talking about. There’s an abandoned quarry about an hour outside of town. You shake your head. “That’s where people dump bodies. No way am I going out there.”

“They find bodies there because it’s outside of Hero Force’s patrol,” Gina says. She waves her hands in the air so the yellow light from the inset ceiling lights catches on her golden manicure. “If you think about it, it’s the best place to dump a car. Especially when the heroes are going to be out of town.”

You stare at her. “Did you just admit your dad is part of Hero Force?”

Her eyes skitter away from yours. “No.”

“Your dad is out of town next weekend.”

“Yes.”

“And the heroes?”

“Maybe they’re traveling together.”

“I don’t think anyone is supposed to know when the heroes are going to be out of town. Isn’t that like a national secret, or something?”

“We’re not a big enough chapter for it to be a national secret,” she denies. She bites her lip. “Probably a state secret though.”

You stand and your chair chatters against the linoleum. “No. Absolutely not.” It’s time for Ms. Mayor’s Daughter to leave.

She scrambles up after you, following you into the living room. “Why not?! You already mess with the heroes. Weren’t you the one who kept breaking into the mall on a motorcycle? You hijacked one of their delivery trucks a month ago—”

“A food delivery truck,” you say. “Which was more of a commentary about the city’s investment in Hero Force luxury rather than after school programs—” You bite your tongue. You spin so that the couch stays between you. You glance at your mom’s closed door and consciously lower your voice. “How do you even know that?”

“I’ve been watching you,” she says. She laughs without humor, dragging one hand through her golden hair. “Sometimes living in this town is like being in a simulation. We have four A-class heroes for a population of 30,000 and everybody loves them. Nobody thinks it’s strange to have walking nukes in a small town. They love my dad. Did you know no one’s even run against him for the past two elections? It doesn’t matter what he does. He owns this place and these people. He has – could commit murder and it would be justified. People would think it would be justice.”

“He loves you,” you say weakly. Isn’t four heroes a pretty normal number? Sure, the ones in your town are big names, but that’s not weird.

Is it?

“He loves me so he gets to be a tyrant?” Gina scoffs. “If he’s even capable of love.”

“I’m not going to mess around with heroes’ civilian identities just because you’ve got daddy issues,” you say. When hurt flashes across her face, you wince. “Sorry. But it’s one thing to mess with heroes in masks, okay? Messing with a hero’s family—”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem when you were stealing my car the other night.”

“That was before I knew your dad was Mr. Solve or whatever—”

“The Sun,” Gina says.

“What?”

“My dad’s the Sun.”

“That,” you say, “is so much worse. Didn’t he burn some minor villain’s eyes out last week?”

“Yes,” Gina says. Her mouth twists. “The guy got off easy compared to some others.”

You stare at her, momentarily speechless. “And you wonder why I’m not going to antagonize the guy?”

“But you already do,” Gina says. Her eyes are glinting. She looks so out of place against the dim interior of your home, a radiant girl dressed all in white and gold. She rounds the couch and snatches up one of your hands between two of her own. “Everyone else loves my dad. Except you. My entire life, and you’re the only one who dares to make—make statements about Hero Force consumption by stealing their deliveries or make the heroes chase you around an abandoned mall on foot like regular people. You challenge them, Elian. All I’m asking is that you do it again.”

“That sounds like a lot more than just crashing your car,” you say. Your voice sounds very far away. You never thought of your actions as so noble. There’s a tingling in your stomach that you’ve never felt before and your hand is so warm. She sees you. You shake the fantasy out of your head. “I—look. I’m flattered, but I’m not your guy. The heroes know my face. It’s only a matter of time before I get sent to whatever detention super-powered kids get sent to. I have to graduate high school.”

Rather than discourage her, Gina presses closer. “What if I told you there’s a way to do both?”

Her closeness fogs your brain. “Both?”

“Take the heroes down a notch and maintain your identity,” she says. She releases you and whirls to get her purse off the couch. “I can help you. We can train so that the heroes never recognize the new you. You can use your powers in new ways. And you can wear this.”

She thrusts a piece of chewed leather into your hands. A mask.

“I’m thinking,” she says, “we call you Outlaw.”

------ Now ----

You can’t shoot. Night is falling by the time you admit it to yourself. You press your back against the rough bark of the tree and stare up at the first stars. You cradle your gun in your hands.

The bloodlust is still there. You aren’t a fair lily incapable of staining your petals red (as red as her). So why can’t you pull the trigger? Because of her ghost? Her last message to you?

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back. More than anything, I want you to live, Elian.

You grind your teeth. Easy for her to say. The dying never have to feel the weight of consequence. They can just say whatever the fuck they want.

You aren’t thinking when you climb down the tree. Your powers give you a lot of things – speed and healing, an instinct for the outdoors, and excellent eyesight. You don’t need to look to find one branch and another, dropping to the forest floor in ten-foot increments. By the time your boots hit the ground, you know what the problem is.

Unlike your other kills, this one is personal. It was never going to be enough just to see him dead. You need him to know why you’ve got him in your sights.

The Sun is an old school hero. The traps you were so afraid of are predictable, turns out. You pick your way around bear traps and landmines, sharp eyes easily picking out silver trip wire when it glints in the moonlight. There are cameras, but there’s likely only one person with access. In the past ten years of following the Sun, you’ve learned two things about him.

One, he’ll kill the things he loves before he loses them.

Two, he doesn’t trust anyone but himself.

You get to the building inside of an hour. The first floor is hidden by steel shutters and there’s no light peeking out from behind them. The second floor window where he’d been sleeping for most of the day shines with the faint blue glow of a television.

The front door looks like a bank’s with how thick it is. There’s a keypad and a biometric scanner you don’t have a prayer of hacking.

That’s okay. You’ve already seen your way in.

You climb up the nearest pine tree. The Sun likes to think of himself as a competent hero, but too many mayoral kickbacks over the years made him soft. He surrounded himself with powerful heroes and never once struggled to win. Because of that, he’s missing some caution and common sense. The building’s first floor is locked up tight, but the windows on the second are regular glass.

And he hasn’t trimmed the tree line back far enough.

You fire your first shot of the night into his empty desk chair, exactly where his chest had been hours earlier. Immediately a siren sounds, and the TV glow coming through the office’s open door is consumed by bright light. You run two steps and then leap, neatly flipping through the empty window frame. Your boots slide for a moment on the broken glass and you catch yourself on the edge of his desk. There are medical papers scattered across it, prescriptions and diagrams of the face and eyes and heart.

You chew your cheek at the sight of a pill bottle. There had been rumors that the Sun is sick with his own radiation poisoning. It’s good you’re here before nature runs its course.

The siren wails for another beat before dying. The silence rings. Your heartbeat picks up as your ears strain to hear if anyone’s coming to meet you. Strange. The Sun had to have been the one who shut off the alarm.

So where is he?

You hold your gun out in front of you and check your mask. The Sun knows who you are by now, but you want him to see the mask she gave you. The handsewn leather, patched more times than you can count, is recycled from one of his old leather jackets. It feels oddly poetic to be dressed in the first iteration of your costume, cowboy hat tipped back and a biker vest embroidered with the name she gave you.

Is the Sun hiding? You creep out of the office, eyes darting from the quaint landscapes hanging on the wall to the tasteful wooden floors. The Sun’s safe house feels more cabin-y than you expected. The property deed has been in his name for the past fifteen years. Did Gina ever visit? Her ghost runs ahead of you, golden nails dragging along the peach wallpaper to the first open door on the left. She looks over her shoulder and smiles.

There are times when you’re glad for the afterimages your brain conjures. This is not one of those times. You don’t think she’d be happy to see what you’re about to do.

You swing around the doorway gun first, a snarl on your lips. “You old bastard, drop what—”

The smell of antiseptic hits your nose first, dashing away the red haze filling your vision in an instant. A TV murmurs against the wall, some rerun of an old western, but it’s not what holds your attention.

There’s a bed in the center of the room. The Sun sits at bedside, his attention wholly invested on the hand he’s holding up. Carefully, he applies gold paint to the nails without once looking up at you.

The woman in the bed is obscured with white gauze and beige compression bandages. Her breathing is soft and even. The one eye you can see is closed and still. No dreaming, no awareness.

“Outlaw,” the Sun says. He gently sets Gina’s left hand down on her stomach and picks up her right. He squints at her pinky nail. “Close the office door, would you? I don’t want the heat to escape.”

“What,” you breathe, “the fuck.”

-----Ten years ago ----

It’s a good year with Gina. You never realized how friend-starved you were until she was there, over at your house every day after school. She always makes it sound like she’s coming over to talk about the Outlaw thing, but there’s other stuff too. Movies and cooking and tutoring.

“Life is about balance,” Gina says sagely during one such tutoring session. “Besides, even heroes don’t go on more than two missions a month. We’re doing just fine.”

There’s always a pressing need to do more though. Whenever you pull off a particularly daring heist, she smiles this secret and pleased smile that makes your stomach flip. Sometimes, when the two of you watch news coverage of your getaways, she murmurs how impressed she is, how smart you are, how cool your powers are.

It makes you want to do anything for Gina.

You’re watching the news one day, waiting for a recap of how you stole the Sun’s favorite shield from the armory, when a rare story comes on. A Hero is dead, some guy named Ibis from Atlanta. There aren’t any leads to the culprit except for eyewitness accounts of a mysterious, winged super-powered individual flying low over the city, hiding in storm clouds.

“I’d kill a Hero,” you blurt out.

Gina jerks so hard that the popcorn bowl goes flying out of her hands. She doesn’t seem to notice. “What?”

“N-not your dad or anything,” you say quickly although yes, if you had to kill anyone, you’d start with the man who makes Gina cry like that. “Just…in general. The news anchor said Ibis was connected to a civilian’s death, right? I could kill a Hero like that.”

“No,” Gina says. She drops off the couch to kneel by you. “No, Elian.”

You flush like you’ve done something wrong. You sink into your hoodie. “I’m not going to, I’m just saying—”

“If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back,” Gina says. She’s too close, so close that you can see the flecks of gold hidden in her eyes. “Your life—it’s not like what we’ve been doing. Dad’s got rules when it comes to stealing. But if you kill a hero?” She shudders. “I want you to live, Elian.”

“I got it—”

“Please,” she blurts out. The plea in her voice makes you really look at her despite the pounding of your heart. Her eyes are wild and her mouth is pressed into a thin line. “No matter what. Promise me.”

“I—” No matter what? You slowly shake your head, trying to get away from the instinctive desire to agree with her. “I-if someone is really bad, I’d—”

“Elian—”

The tension makes you truthful.

“If your dad hurt you, I’d kill him,” you say. When she rears back, this time you follow. You brace your arm against the couch so you can lean into her space. With your other hand, you trace the fading burn on her cheek that could pass for an old sunburn if you didn’t know the truth. “I know you don’t think he will, but he’s been erratic lately. And I know about his temper. If he hurts you, I’d kill him.”

The air thickens between you. It’s rare that you don’t back down, but you’re not backing down now, staring into her eyes. Competing wills. For a moment you let everything you feel come to the surface. Your frustration when she visits with that fucking shadow in her smile, the helplessness when there’s another burn on her arm, the adoration when she’s just there.

Gina shudders and looks away first. She licks her lips. “I—I…appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m fine. You agreed I got to make the rules for Outlaw. I’m telling you one. Don’t kill heroes.”

She’s pulling away. You do too, falling to her side and sitting next to her rather than hovering over her. You try for a careless shrug but fall short. How can she make you feel so powerful one second and so powerless the next? You avert your eyes. “I won’t kill heroes,” you promise.

You hear her suck in a breath. “Good. Because I need you alive.”

“I do like being alive,” you say and don’t finish the sentence with with you.

“We’re done studying,” she decides. She darts up towards the kitchen. “I’m getting another bowl of popcorn before we start the movie. You want some?”

You stare at your reflection in the dark TV. Your jaw works. Finally, you say, “Nah. I’m good. I’ll just eat it off the floor.”

“Don’t be gross, Elian!”

------Now.----

“I will regret that day for the rest of my life,” the Sun says. He hasn’t looked at you once. His eyes are glued to the steady rise and fall of Gina’s chest. He times his breathing to hers and then sighs. “What a fool I was. Drunk on power.”

You’re standing on the opposite side of the bed. Your gaze flicks from Gina to him and back again. “Is she ever conscious?”

“It’s a medically-induced coma,” the Sun says. “The doctors say she should wake up any day now that most of her injuries have healed. Her last surgery was the final one. Now it’s up to her.”

This might be the first time in ten years that you’ve breathed. You suck in air greedily and imagine you can taste her scent under the layers of sickness and medicine. “They told me she died.”

“I told Hero Force you did it,” the Sun says. There’s no remorse in his voice. “They always tell villains they were successful, so they don’t try again.”

A decade of rage slides around your ribs. “You fucking bastard.”

“I did think it was your fault ten years ago.” He carefully picks up Gina’s left hand again to apply a second coat. It takes all your willpower not to slap him away from her. “If you hadn’t stolen Hero Force data, I wouldn’t have had to come after you with my full power. She would never have been in the line of fire.”

You’re fists shake at your sides. “I didn’t steal Hero Force data, I stole your fucking car. Don’t rewrite history.”

“There was Hero Force data in that car.”

“It was your Porsche, your civilian Porsche!”

“My fault to have left sensitive data out,” the Sun says. His confession surprises you into silence. “But I had to get it back no matter what. Then I blamed you by thinking how if you’d only asked me to take my daughter to Prom, I would’ve known she was in the car.”

“She’s not your property and it’s not the 1800s, of course I didn’t ask if I could take your daughter to—”

“I’m telling you what I thought,” the Sun interrupts. He finally looks at you. He looks worse than he did earlier, the years cutting deep lines into his face. There are black bags of exhaustion under his watering eyes. He breathes out shakily. “I had to tell myself it was your fault. It was the only way I could survive, Elian.”

Your real name shocks you. You stumble back. “How do you know that name?”

“She calls for you sometimes,” the Sun says. He drags a hand over his face before grimly returning to his daughter’s nails. “She’s never been really conscious for long. The d-damage took a long time to heal. But when she’s awake, she calls for you and she calls for Outlaw. Wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”

Your chest throbs. “I should have been here. You should have—I could have—”

“Blaming you let me keep her by my side,” the Sun says. “I don’t expect you to forgive me or even understand me. But I…I regret more than anything what I’ve done to my daughter.”

“You’re going to regret it even more,” you say. The rage you feel is like a tidal wave. Ten years. Ten years. You could have held her hand through her recovery. You could have been there for her. And this selfish asshole who never even loved her like a father should took that away from you. You remember your gun. “You never deserved to be her father.”

“I didn’t, did I?” the Sun asks. He sets her hand down and swallows hard. He looks down the barrel of your gun without flinching. “She says one other thing, you know. When she asks for you.”

The curiosity stills your trigger finger. “What?”

“She says, Don’t kill heroes.”

Your face contorts. There’s the memory of popcorn in your mouth and the heat of her eyes on you. “Yeah, she said that to me before too. Back when I offered to kill you the first time.”

The Sun hangs his head. If he’s surprised to hear that, he doesn’t show it. “I wasn’t a good father.”

“No. But she didn’t want you dead.”

Understanding dawns. “Don’t kill heroes.”

“Exactly.” You tilt your head. “Do you feel like a hero?”

His lips tremble. His gaze drifts back to his daughter. Her eyes are flickering under eyelids. “I—I—”

The trigger presses back against your finger, eager and ready. “Do you?”

He licks his lips. “N-no,” he whispers. He closes his eyes. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”

This time, it’s easy to take aim. Steady your breath. And—

Fuck.

“Leave,” you say. You drop your gun back to your side and scowl when the Sun’s eyes fly open in surprise. “If you do what I say, you’ll live long enough for Gina to decide what to do with you. Leave and don’t tell anyone about this.”

The Sun shakes his head. “No, no I can’t leave her—”

“Then die here,” you snap. You bare your teeth at him. “Leave. We’ll be gone in a week. Maybe she wakes up and calls you. Maybe she—” You take a deep breath. “Well. Maybe she doesn’t. Either way, your part is done here.”

“I need to be there when she wakes up. Please, I’m her dad—”

“You’re her murderer,” you say. More than anything, you want to pick Gina up and run out of here before the Sun can stop you. You eye the monitors and know three people you need to call for advice before you even attempt to move her. A week should be just enough time to disappear. “You think you deserve to stay by her side?”

The Sun opens his mouth twice before he finds words. “I just—let me stay until she wakes up. That way I’ll know.”

“I spent ten years thinking she was dead,” you say. “You can last a month in limbo. If I have to ask you again, we’ll finally see who’s stronger now that I’m all grown up.”

The Sun picks himself up slowly. You think he cries. You’re not sure. He may even plead with you again. You’re deaf to it. Your brain has given up on splitting your attention and every atom of your being is homed in on Gina.

She’s alive. She’s alive.

You kneel at her bedside and wait for her to wake up.

----

Thanks for reading! If you want to read more of work or get access to stories like this a week (or more!) early, please consider checking out my Patreon (X)! This week's short story for my Triple Shot and above tiers is about a world where being loved adds years to your lifespan!

Based off this prompt (X): Love determines how long you live, some people are in their hundreds, but some don’t even live to be 20.

#my writing #short story #superheroes and villains #my superpowers

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satancopilotsmytardis · 1 month ago

Text

(Animal) Instinct

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @zehei on Tumblr. Dabi and Shigaraki get hit with a quirk while on the CRC raid, resulting in them being turned into heteromorphs. As they try to navigate their new instincts, they make it more difficult for each other as they push the other to try and break so that neither of them has to be the first to own up to the feelings that are starting to bloom between them.

Contents: Wolf!Tomura, Cat!Dabi, Body Horror, Intoxication Kink, Scent Kink, Hunting, Outdoor Sex, Primal Play (Light), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Prostate Milking, Size Kink, Biting, Scratching, Knotting, Mating Cycle.

Word Count: 20,730

It's honestly embarrassing that he got hit with a quirk in the field. Dabi has been harping on the others from day fucking one of League training for the others to watch their surroundings at all times. He was telling them because it's not going to be his fault if they backflip into one of his jets of flame. He knows what he's doing on the field and he's worked with crews more often than any of the others to back those words up. He knows how to avoid hitting anyone, even Shigaraki who seems drawn to him like a moth to flame the rare times they're actually on the field together. Duster likes to use Dabi's fire as cover, chasing the spirals of blue flame so that he can wrap his deadly hands around anyone that manages to block the fire or who are immune to it through their own quirks. It's a great strategy that normally works very well for them on the field. So when Dabi comes back to the others a couple of days early and gets roped into the CRC raid, he goes along with it, hoping against hope that this ends up being an easy, uneventful job, but not being surprised in the slightest when this bunch of fanatics decides to pick a fight with them and he and Duster end up having to use this technique again.

But they're doing well enough, bigots are falling left and right, Dabi's seams aren't hurting too badly because he hasn't had to use his quirk heavily in a couple of days, and he does, generally, like the way that his blood races through his veins during a good fight. He also likes it because when Shigaraki is darting and weaving around his flames, he gets to see his ass in those tight jeans. It's a good ass. But checking his boss out, something that he's somewhat disappointed to find himself doing more and more often lately, is not what makes him get hit with the stray quirk. No, honestly, the fact that someone who's entire body looks like a charcoal briquette can somehow swell their corpse so that it begins to inflate like the world's worst balloon, just as he and Shigaraki as starting to make their way deeper into the fray, is entirely implausible. He was fucking sure that guy was dead. He probably was, but had been gearing up the quirk before he'd been burned, and the gas was flash-sealed into his body. And then said body hit the ground and shattered the seared-shut flesh. Dabi sees the corpse swelling in slow motion, knowing that they're both still way too close and that even as he tries to take a step back he's not going to be fast enough.

The pale, glittering green gas bursts in a seven foot radius, catching both him and Duster as it does so. Dabi doesn't mean to breathe it in at all, but his immediate instinct with anything gaseous is not to worry about his lungs as much as he has to worry about his flames. He can't go blowing himself up because he's accidentally walked into some kind of flammable gas. So he's more focused on making sure there isn't a spark left on his skin as they're engulfed. He's just also not expecting for the smell of it, in the split second before he gets his wits about him and starts to hold his breath, for the mist to smell like... a petting zoo.

Dabi backs out of the cloud as quickly as he can, tucking back against the doorway, blocking the exit and knowing that this is the most secure place that the League has claimed for them on the battlefield. Shigaraki follows him in the retreat and Duster doesn't hesitate to reach out and catch his arm right below his sleeve. Dabi doesn't flinch, Shigaraki has never slipped with his quirk in front of them and as he pulls him a little further out of the way, he's coughing too.

"Are you okay?"

He's about to open his mouth and mock him for checking in like he's one of the newbies, but Dabi doesn't get that far before his head starts to go light and a headache starts to pound against his temples. "Gonna need to sit the rest of this out, I think." He says. He's used to pain, but from how fast this headache is coming on now, he has a sneaking suspicion his head is either going to explode, or that whatever fucked up nonsense this is, he's not going to be standing for much longer as it starts to go through his body.

"Twice," Shigaraki calls out through the din. "Backup!"

Jin should make doubles of them to take their places, but he is starting to get dizzy enough that he's not able to turn his head and look into the room, his back flattening against the wall by the door as his skin starts to ache. he's familiar with that too, but it feels wrong now and he can't quite make sense of why. Shigaraki seems to be feeling the same sickness as he is, even if he's keeping his expression fairly neutral, because he's fumbling to reach into his pocket, his hands shaking as he takes out his gloves.

Dabi knows the risk, but he also knows that it will be much worse if Duster loses control before he gets them on, or if he passes out and falls wrong. So he reaches for one of his wrists and they manage to ease the half-gloves over his fingers. It's not a moment too soon either, because Dabi is screaming soon, pain lancing through his own hands as he watches in horror as his nails start to move. A sickness that he doesn't have a name for consumes him as he watches his fingernails slowly start to push out of the beds, each one dropping to the ground as a new nail starts to push through his skin, wicked and curved, like an animal's talons.

He wonders if he's hallucinating from the gas or if he's already unconscious and this is a horrible nightmare, for a split second before the agony in his body goes so white hot that he nearly ignites again as part of his spine starts to crack and warp, a squelching sound coming from his lower back as something hot and wet pours from his skin. He reaches back, a scream on his lips again, as he sees the blood that his palm comes away coated in. And then his skull cracks open and he's gone.

///

It's been a long time since Tomura remembers waking up hurting like this. He normally has a very high pain tolerance, though he wonders if that was something he was born with or something that happened because... the memories are hazy at best, but he remembers spending a lot of time with the doctor when he first started being his teacher's student. He hadn't been thrilled about being shot or stabbed since his debut as a villain, but he has never woken up feeling as badly as he does right now. Dabi passed out first, he remembers vaguely. He remembers seeing blood pouring over his face from his hairline, his nails falling out, a few teeth dropping from his mouth as he screamed out the last of his breath before he crumpled. His vision had been pink then too from the blood dripping into his eyes as he realized their bodies were tearing themselves apart. For a long moment, Tomura doesn't want to open his eyes. He doesn't want to take stock of his body, because he is still aching badly and he doesn't want to know what else he lost after he followed the arsonist's lead and collapsed as well.

But the world around him is so sharp. It reeks of foreign bodies-- not just old sweat, but the knowledge that many people have been in this place, their scents soaked into the room-- and the smell of blood and a distant rot that comes from something starting to decay. He hopes that the fact that seems like it's from somewhere further away means that he isn't going to discover that it's his body that is decaying. It also smells overwhelmingly of cigarettes and smoke, a far too sugary sweet and slightly fruity aroma also perfuming the air. And the world is loud. It's a quiet room, but there are multiple people breathing in it, someone is clicking their fingers over buttons, another against a glass screen, and someone is bouncing their leg fast enough that the seat beneath them is creaking ever so slightly in a rapid patter that puts Tomura's teeth on edge. He hasn't often struggled with overstimulation, in fact, he usually likes to be in crowded places to help get his head straight. But this is too much. So much that he doesn't just feel the usual itching beneath his skin, but also feels... his ears pull back as his teeth want to bare themselves in a growl. And the realization that it's not his teeth in his mouth, that there is another set of ears at the top of his head alongside the animal ones makes his tail try to curl between his legs with his horror.

Tomura makes himself open his eyes and lift a hand, meaning to reach to see if the appendages on the top of his head are real or a hallucination, and then finding that his gloves are torn at the tip of each covered finger as his claws have pushed their way out of his skin, thick and black, in place of where his nails used to be.

"Oh, they're waking up!" Toga's voice is excited, but he doesn't try to find her, instead reaching to run his fingers along the sharp, fluffy ears on the top of his head. The fur over them is rougher than the hair on his head, but he can feel the touch just as much through his fingertips as he can through the appendage. Which must mean that it's... real. He has animal ears now, animal claws.

"Don't fucking shout, brat!" Dabi hisses through his teeth, and hearing his voice does make Tomura pay more attention to their surroundings as he seeks him out. Dabi is on the other end of the ornate couch that must be part of the CRC mansion, the other man glaring at Toga, his teeth sharp and showing as he looks at her. And at the top of his head, a pair of pointed white... cat ears. A long, sleek, short-haired tail of that same pure white flicks rapidly behind him, clearly attached at his spine. Tomura blinks and tries to take stock of his body, but he's... innately sure that he isn't a cat as well. He's something else, but all he knows for certain is that he is a heteromorph now, and that's something that they're going to have to deal with before they move forward with their plans.

///

Dabi is less than thrilled to wake up and find that the fucking body horror that he just went through has made him into a fucking catboy, but he could have died, so he's going to make his peace with it in the end. At least, because the doctor is a mad fucking scientist, when Duster reaches out to him and tells him about the quirk and its results, this is weird enough that Ujiko decides to actually start looking into things for them. That does mean that he and Duster have to find the chunks of the guy who fucking exploded and then go to the doctor's scary lab to get check-ups, but after he's x-rayed them, gotten their blood, and thrown Shigaraki into an MRI to map out his body in a full scan, he has the data he needs to hopefully start to figure out a solution to this problem for them. He isn't sure that he trusts the doctor to do that given how fascinating he seems to have found the entire thing, but by the time he and Shigaraki are able to go back to the CRC manor that's going to be acting as their new base for a while, the others have actually pulled their weight properly.

While they were gone, the League cleaned up the sludge of blood and dusted bodies from the main foyer as instructed, and went ahead and turned the house. They have a small collection of laptops and cellphones, a few of which they were able to hack into using the meager skills that Spinner started to be taught back in Kamino. From those they learn of another couple of CRC locations and other major meetings that are supposed to be happening in the near future, as well as that their funds are not in any of the gaudy pieces of party jewelry that Toga is wearing around as she pretends to be a lady with Twice egging her on. It's all tied up in real estate and shell corporations. Dabi is ready to mark this as a complete wash until Compress tells them that they did find a single safe hidden in the closet of the master bedroom, but unfortunately, he was unable to open it because it's the only thing in the house that has an alarm on it. As of right now, they don't have any eyes on them, and shouldn't get any at this location given what they find from the electronics. If they try to open the safe, it could set it off. Dabi thinks that they were just waiting for them to get back so they can bust it open and then head out, but instead of any of that, Shigaraki surprises him.

"The doctor thinks that we should be quarantined for a while." Which is absolutely not something that Ujiko said to them, he said that he was curious to see how their socialization would work now that they've been turned into heteromorphs and will likely have new thought processes to deal with on top of their old ones. He thought socialization would make those changes more stark than they were before and that interactions with the League could be a fascinating behavioral experiment. Maybe Shigaraki just isn't keen on being that experiment with the others for now, or maybe he just did have a private conversation with the doctor during the MRI or something, because as he goes on, he produces a stack of bills from his pocket that Dabi is damn sure that he didn't have before they went to see the doctor. "He wants us isolated, so Dabi and I will stay here and work on cracking the safe. The rest of you can take this," he hands the money, unsurprisingly, to Compress, "And all of the electronics to Giran. Have him see what else he can get off of them, start planning another raid for one of the other locations, and you can stay at one of my teacher's old safehouses while you do. It's in the mountains, so make sure you get some heavier coats too. Dabi and I will check in when we can. But until we know how long this is going to last and how it's going to affect us in the long term, we're going to stay here."

The others make their idle protests, but Duster clearly knows what he wants to happen here, and he is their leader, so ultimately they give in. He keeps his mouth shut. If Shig wants to lie to them outright, then that's on him, even if he doesn't fully understand what the other man is doing. Whatever. At least they're going to be able to sleep in beds and the doctor gave them some painkillers to help them deal with the severe muscle soreness and the persistent ache that feels like a bruise sunk deep in their body from growing new bones. They are also pleasantly surprised to discover a fully stocked kitchen as well, though Twice makes a double of Compress to go out and get them a lot of raw meat that Ujiko told them they'll probably need to start eating given that the species they've been saddled with are both obligate carnivores. By the time everyone has eaten, the double comes back with more groceries, the original has marbled anything valuable that they can sell, and everyone is starting to get tired, it's already very late into the night, actually creeping into the next day by the time Dabi has picked out his new bedroom. He had to search for one that smelled dusty instead of used, not having the energy to go wash the sheets and his... new nose not wanting him surrounded in some stranger's scent when he was trying to lie down and rest after everything that's happened to them today. He also isn't expecting it when he climbs into the bed and doesn't just lay down to sleep, but crawls around on the bed in a circle before the claws at the tips of his fingers push out a bit further, making him more aware of the feeling of them, as he... kneads them into the bedding. He tries to make himself stop, but when he does, there's an itching anxiety that starts to creep under his skin. He needs to make the bed more comfortable, needs to soothe away that horrible unrest that is starting to form under his skin, or he'll never be able to sleep. So in the privacy of his own room, he lets himself do something that will help to make him more comfortable for once. He lets himself manipulate the bedding and rubs his cheek against his pillows, stretching hard enough that his staples twinge slightly, before he flops down on the bed, in the same position as he normally sleeps, and falls immediately into a deep slumber.

///

Dabi... doesn't sleep well. Or rather, he sleeps hard as a rock for the two hours that he's laying down, but then he wakes up and knows that he's not going to get another second of sleep. He needs to get up and move around. He needs... entertainment. He stretches and steps out of the room, realizing after a second that the world looks... brighter than it should this late at night. His ears, the new set on the top of his head twist and pivot, looking for out of place sounds in the mansion, but the hallways are still and quiet. The others will leave in the morning and they're resting now. He starts to move down the hall and notices that... he can't hear his own footsteps against the floor. He's not trying to creep silently through the halls, but his feet just... don't make nearly as much sound as he would normally expect them to as he walks. His tail swishes behind him and Dabi feels... sleek. Fast. Like he could run. Like he could jump and walk--

It's not entirely out of his character to put his life at risk. He does that a fair bit given his lifestyle and the way that his quirk functions. But he usually doesn't actively put himself in danger for a thrill rather than for a calculated gamble. He just can't seem to help himself though as he realizes that the railing that winds around the upper floor of the mansion that looks down onto the foyer has a nice, polished banister that has a smooth, flat top. Dabi doesn't even use his hands, stepping up with more flexibility than he thought he even had in his body, his tail listing to the side so that he can keep his balance, and then he is standing on top of the bannister. He looks down the hall, knowing that a glance below will make the part of his brain that is already reeling just from trying this react even worse and he doesn't know if he trusts himself to fall to the right side of this balance beam he's made for himself. So he walks, doing his best to keep his breathing even, and only spreading his arms slightly from his sides as an extra way of balancing. His body feels steady as he moves, going along the wood until he reaches the staircase and the bannister slopes down the stairs. It's still more than nerve-wracking when he has to step down off of the edge and onto the stairs, but he doesn't wobble as he does so and when he has his feet flat against the cool floor again, Dabi sits down on the top step, putting his head in his hands, and recoiling almost immediately as he pokes himself in one of the new ears that are poking up out of his hair.

He sits there until his heart stops pounding and then he starts to go downstairs. Alcohol is a no-go while they're like this, apparently. Onions, garlic, grapes, lilies apparently can kill a cat if they get even a lung-full of pollen, and any other common foods or objects that are often deadly to cats or dogs are a no-go until the doctor has finished his first round of tests. Dabi wishes he could have a drink or ten though. How many times? How many times can one person wake up and find that their entire body has changed. He might not have slept away years, but turning into a heteromorph had been nearly as painful as being burned and he still isn't him anymore now. He still has new thoughts in his head, a body that feels different as he tries to get it to follow his machinations. It makes him sick to his stomach if he thinks about it for too long.

He goes downstairs to try and find the library that Mister said he found tucked into one of the back rooms. He only got through one shelf of the books before they came back and had other things for him to do, but some of the books looked old. There could be some first editions or other pieces that a collector might be interested in. If they can find other things to sell, they'll have more funds and that, more than manpower or other lacking resources is what's really hamstringing them right now. If he's not going to sleep tonight, then he might as well just go do something productive.

Dabi pads silently down the hall, his ear twitching when he does finally catch the sound of other life in the house. He changes directions, going along a different turn so that he can follow that sound, wanting to see who else is up. He doesn't think he should be surprised that it's Shigaraki, sitting in the living room, tapping away at his handheld console as he too doesn't sleep. Dabi doesn't know if dogs are supposed to sleep through the night or if this is just an extension of the insomnia that he already knows that the other has as badly as he does, but he doesn't actually feel like talking to his fearless leader, so he turns and head back down the hall. They're going to have more than enough time to do that while they're here in their 'quarantine' for a long while.

Dabi spends a couple of hours combing through the shelves, but then he settles into a nice lounge in the room. His claws leave holes in the leather, but he doesn't care. It's a house built on anti-heteromorph bigotry. He'll ruin their cushions if he wants to.

///

Tomura is not a dog. He knows it as soon as everyone starts calling him one, guessing at the species based on the fluffiness of his tail and the point of his ears. Husky is the going guess because Dabi is very clearly a cat. Just a domestic cat because after some searching online, they can’t seem to find any cat that would have the white fur and the ears that are shaped like his new ones are or that also have a sleek tail like Dabi does. So if he's a domestic cat, they assume that Shigaraki must be one too. But he knows innately that he is not a domesticated dog. He doesn't feel much like 'man's best friend' he is too busy swinging wildly back and forth between 'the League and humans in general are terrifying and he should avoid them at all costs when they outnumber him' and 'watch for which one is the smallest, the slowest, find out how to break them away from the others. Catch them and you can feast,' neither of which are what he thinks a common dog would be considering. He also feels... calmer. The itch under his skin, now that he's sent the others away and knows that the doctor is interested enough in what happened to them to actually align with their goals for a second time, means that he can relax a bit.

So over the first few days that he and Dabi are alone in the mansion together, they don't see each other very often. Dabi is very quiet now, especially since he seems to have completely foregone wearing shoes for any period of time. But Tomura's new ears and nose are sharp and he could track down the smell of smoke through the mansion at any time of the day. And he does track Dabi down sometimes. Just to see if he notices him. Tomura tries to tell himself that he isn't hunting the other man, but he can't lie to himself that well. He knows what he's doing when he has the other man's scent in his nose. More often than not he finds Dabi sleeping somewhere that is not the bedroom he claimed for himself. Dabi sleeps almost all the time now, at all hours of the day, but the sleep doesn't seem to be enough. Tomura is pretty sure that he remembers reading something about cats sleeping around eighteen hours a day, so he leaves him to it. It just means that neither of them are seeing each other all that much because Tomura is constantly getting up to do things around dusk and dawn. He didn't notice the change in his vision at first, but as a few days pass, he notes that his eyes are much stronger at night, and the predator in his head that didn't live there before wants him to use that to his advantage. Not that there really is one to have at all given that neither he nor Dabi really have much of anything to do now that they're in isolation as they wait to hear back from the doctor.

Their waiting finally comes to a head after three days, and when the doctor calls to give his findings, Tomura tells him that he'll call right back, once he's located Dabi so that they can both hear this for themselves. He knows that his teacher, that Ujiko himself, probably would have kept the conversation private and only give Dabi the bare minimum of the information gathered, but he's not going to do that. He already lied when he recruited him using Stain's ideology, he doesn't want a League that thinks he'll lie to them whenever it's most convenient for his goals. So he goes and finds the other man, following his nose and the smell of smoke that constantly clings to Dabi's body.

Tomura isn't expecting to follow his nose to one of the balconies that's on the second floor, off of a bedroom that Dabi hasn't been sleeping in. He's not even in the room itself as he enters and glances around, but his nose is positive that Dabi is here, so he moves over to the balcony. Dabi has been sunning himself a fair bit. He only does it out of the way and in places that it wouldn't be too obvious that's what he's doing, like sleeping on a couch or chair that just so happens to be in the sun. But Dabi hasn't made any pretenses here, clearly thinking he would be too out of the way to be found. He pulled a bunch of blankets and pillows from the bed, left himself a water bottle, and... stripped down to his black boxer briefs. He's not curled up at the center of the blankets, instead stretched out so that the sun can warm his skin, his expression more peaceful than it ever is while waking. He smells content and warm, and Tomura is overwhelmed with the urge to crawl into the little den of blankets Dabi has made for himself and run his tongue along his ears. Dabi is a centimeter taller than him, but his broad shoulders and full chest make way for a slender waist and narrow hips that go down into thin legs. He's certainly not built like Twice is, and hasn't aimed to start building muscle the way that Tomura has so that his body isn't ripped apart by All For One when the quirk does finally awaken in him. That's to say, while Dabi isn't small really, Tomura can't help thinking that he looks... almost delicate with the swaths of pale skin on display between the twisted scars that cast little slices of shadow along the peaks and valleys of themselves, his staples glittering in the afternoon sunlight. Dabi is always gorgeous, but usually Tomura reminds himself that he's not allowed to look. Tomura hasn't ever had a problem telling someone that he wants them, but Dabi is different. He can't just reach out and try to catch Dabi because long before he was a cat, he was always skittish like one. Like an alley cat that has grown up feral on the streets and expects to be kicked or have a bottle thrown at them before they expect someone to offer them food or kindness. Dabi played oblivious when Magne had flirted with him at the bar, but whenever any of the others tried to get Dabi to talk to them about anything besides work, he clams right up and will fully disappear for days if they push too hard. Tomura doesn't think there's a way that he could tell Dabi how much he wants his hands around his pretty thighs so that he can spread them open and slot between them that wouldn't have him running off--

Dabi shifts and Tomura tries to save himself from looking as creepy as he is being right now by pushing the balcony door open the rest of the way, letting the door bump with a soft thud against the end of its track. He was just hoping to convince the other man that he wasn't standing there the whole time watching him sleep, but the sound brings Dabi violently out of his slumber. It's probably a blessing that Dabi's animal instincts act up first, because if not, he knows that he would have gotten scorched as the other man pushes himself up from his blankets sharply, his back arching, his ears pulled back, tail up with every hair standing on end, as his claws tangle in the blankets and he lets out a feline hiss so ferocious that--

Tomura doesn't mean to burst into laughter. He means to apologize for startling him, but the sound that comes out is a laugh, a howl even, as he finds himself doubling over as Dabi realizes how ridiculous that reaction was and starts to sputter and fumble with the blanket to cover up his nearly naked lap, the smell of smoke going even thicker as his agitation and embarrassment make his quirk boil under his skin.

"Fuck you! Don't you fucking knock, Shigaraki?!"

"S-sorry," he tries to contain the laughter, but it bubbles out again, the way that he often finds himself laughing when everything has been a little too much for a little too long. It's been too long of this, hasn't it? Not just of Dabi, of being on the run, of not knowing if his body will be strong enough to withstand it when his teacher's quirk activates inside of him. He doesn't know how far he's going to make it and they have been running. When the laughter starts, it's hard to make it stop because the only other option is to keep trying to itch out the unease that has been living beneath his skin. "Th-this isn't your room. I wasn't even sure you were out here." He takes a gulp of breath as he tries to contain the laughter as Dabi blushes dark enough that he can see the color creeping up over his staples and his ears turn a darker shade of purple. He didn't know that the other man could look like such a petulant child, but he has a feeling that he's about to puff out his cheeks and start to really yell if he doesn't figure out how to contain himself. "I didn't mean to scare you, kitty cat." Which is absolutely not going to help the situation, but he can't help letting out the teasing words. "The doctor called, he has news for us."

That does, actually, assuage some of Dabi's anger and he sits up a bit more. "Good, fuck off and let me get dressed, pervert."

"I'm the pervert?" Dabi doesn't need to know that it's true, that he's hit the nail on the head because Tomura is still wondering what it would be like to kiss that scowl off of his lips. He wonders if Dabi would purr while he has his hands against his skin. His tail starts to wag and Tomura tries to make it stop. "You're the one laying outside half-naked."

"Fuck you, it's not like we have neighbors." The other man grumbles, but he does get up and start to reach for the pile of clothes that he discarded to have more of the sun against his skin. Tomura makes himself turn, going back into the main bedroom and taking out his phone again. He would much rather watch Dabi dress, would like to fantasize about stripping him down again and finding out if his new ears are sensitive, if his tail is. Tomura is a little startled when he realizes that he can... smell his own arousal. It's a faint spicy scent that is different from the regular smell of his body that he doesn't notice unless it's been too long since he's bathed or he's sweat through his antiperspirant after exercising. Dabi rejoins him, pulling his shirt on, and demands,

"Call him. I want good news."

Tomura makes no promises about that as he redials the number, hoping Dabi hasn't noticed the change in his scent.

///

The doctor does not give Dabi the news he wants. He wants to be told that this quirk will only last for a week or so and then things will go back to normal. But that's not the news they get. A quirk going on after the initial use means that this one might have needed to be deliberately deactivated by the user, with said user now dead, there is a good chance that this is permanent until the doctor manufactures a solution. Yes, in theory, he could declaw them, remove the extra appendages surgically, and they could look normal again, but that wouldn't actually solve the problem and would be extremely dangerous, risking paralysis in the case of removing their tails. It's not a solution that either of them entertain for even a handful of seconds before they agree to give the doctor more blood and tissue samples so he can work on manufacturing an antidote or gene therapy that might make their bodies go back to normal. Until then, they need to live like this. There are a few nuggets of good that Ujiko tells them, saying that they shouldn't be poisoned immediately by any foods they weren't allergic to prior to being turned, but too much of common problem foods like onions, garlic, chocolate, and the like will probably upset their stomachs badly. Raw meat or lightly cooked meat should be most of their diet right now, and they should continue to take care of their bodies and exercise as they start to feel out their routines.

"Ah, Tomura, you will also likely experience a rut within the next month or so based on your hormone levels."

Dabi blinks, his ear twitching with interest as Shigaraki hesitates for a second as those words register. "A rut?"

"It's a period of heightened hormones that some canine species and wolf heteromorphs experience. You'll experience a period of near-constant arousal for seven to ten days, grow more territorial, and look for a mate. I would recommend self-isolation if you don't want to be drawn to a city to try and find another heteromorph to help you fulfil those desires." Ujiko says it with the same nonchalance as he's said everything else and Dabi's nose twitches. The heightened senses means that he's been able to smell Shigaraki, smell everything, much more sharply than he was able to before, and while the other man just smelled like his soap and deodorant when he joined him on the balcony, he'd taken on a... different scent for a moment too. Something that was different and spicy that had made Dabi a little less embarrassed about being half naked and a little more interested in seeing what Shigaraki looks like under his covering clothes.

"... Alright. Is there any indication of how long I should expect to have before my... rut starts?" Shigaraki manages to not sound or look particularly embarrassed about that, but Dabi is just grateful for a second that he's not the one who's going to have to worry about a mating cycle. He hasn't wanted to really think about it too much, but he has barbs along his dick now that are sharp and unpleasant, and he bets that he would tear his palms to ribbons if he tried to jack off. He does not want to know how bad it would be if he got stuck in a cycle like that.

"I would say that it will likely come on within the next two weeks. After that, I can do another screening and see if this is an irregularity because of the sudden change and if you'll have an extended period of rut during early spring, or if this will become a cycle that occurs every four months or so."

"Okay, is there anything else?"

Ujiko tells them a few things they should expect, and most of it is stuff that Dabi's already noticed. Neither of them will hold normal sleeping patterns, Duster might start to get lonely more easily and look for other people to spend time with, they'll both need to cut or file their claws to keep them comfortable, they might have stronger hunting instincts-- especially Dabi. He knew that house cats could be vicious, but the fact that he gets warned about violent tendencies above Shigaraki who is literally a wolf apparently instead of a dog like they thought, certainly feels a little strange. But in the end, the doctor can't do anything else for them right now and Shigaraki ends the call.

They're both silent for a few seconds and they internalize the fact that this is their life for the time being, and the reality of that makes Dabi want to burn something down. But that doesn't make it better and only will make his body hurt worse, so he uses Duster as a target for a moment, huffing, "Well, probably a good thing you sent the others away. Wouldn't want you running around and humping their legs."

Red eyes meet his and that smell of spice goes through the air again. It smells so overwhelmingly like heat that Dabi thinks his skin might catch. "I guess if you're the only one here, then that means I'm going to just be wanting to hump yours, kitten." He retorts without blinking, his voice a little lower, not a hint of embarrassment in it. "You were already laying around mostly naked, maybe you really are nothing but a little pervert who would like to be pinned down and made to feel so good."

He.... did not think that Shigaraki was capable of actually making his skin hotter. He did not think that the other man was capable of flirting, let alone saying something that has Dabi's body suddenly... going sweet. Dabi is horrifically embarrassed when his tail starts to lift behind him, not puffing up with indignance, but instinctively... trying to make him more open as that burnt sugary smell registers in his nose. It registers to the same part of his brain that the spicy scent of Shigaraki's body was and Dabi realizes with some tangled mix of triumph and embarrassment that they both smell like arousal. That the flirting was something that he was doing in seriousness, long before the doctor told him about his upcoming cycle.

Shigaraki definitely also comes to that realization at the same time as him, and his eyes drag down Dabi's body, like he can see right through his clothes and would welcome taking his body right here, right now, if he thought Dabi would let him. And his lips curl up into a self-satisfied smile when the look makes Dabi's tail shiver slightly as it stays where it is. "All you have to do is ask for it, kitten." He purrs like he's the cat with the canary. "I'm sure that it will be cute to hear how loud I can make you purr."

Duster doesn't let him get in another word, he returns his phone to his pocket and turns to go back to whatever other part of the house he was haunting before. But Dabi stays there, torn between seething that the other man could say all of that without blinking, and pouncing on him right then to prove to him that no matter the big talk, he's absolutely not going to be able to deliver with that smugness that he was using before. But he lets the other man go. They have two weeks, probably, and if Shigaraki wants to play this game, then Dabi is absolutely not about to back down. Two weeks before Duster will be desperate for relief however he can get it. He's going to make the other man beg to get to hump his leg like a needy dog.

Fine. Game on.

///

Dabi wastes absolutely no time in looking up ways that other canine heteromorphs talk about being romanced. It's not easy to find those kinds of forums, most of them being exclusive to different heteromorph communities to keep people like the CRC from finding out about them and harassing them online the same way that they are harassing them on the streets, but Dabi has always been determined when it comes to finding information, and his tenacity does pay off rapidly. Lots of wolf heteromorphs like to spend time with other people, they like to drive with their windows down, they eat freshly killed game, and would hunt if they could without getting in trouble for using their quirks without a license. That's all fine and dandy, but he finally gets another couple of layers deep and finds the 18+ boards that he wants to. From there, he finally gets the lowdown on heats and ruts. Heats are for wolves with vaginas, while ruts are for ones with dicks, the rut generally considered a little less annoying than a heat because it's not as messy. Cum is, apparently, not nearly as copious as the slick that gets made during heats. He focuses on the information on ruts, skimming past the boring biology stuff, and learns that taking a partner for it is usually all based on normal dating practices. That's fine, but Dabi knows it will be more humiliating if he's able to make Shigaraki go against his human brain and give into the animal one, an he wants to have the other man yipping and barking, begging at his feet with his tongue out to have a taste of him as he humiliates him with the instincts that are going to be running wild through his body and mind.

And then he starts looking deeper he finds things that help to drive those instincts higher. Lots of readily available fresh meat, their partner putting their scent on things and taking theirs in turn, their partner bringing them food or letting them eat first when they're sharing a meal together, physical closeness whether intimate or not, it all can help on top of the more normal things that make people horny. Dabi isn't about to ask if Shig will let him spend his rut with him. No way. He's not going to beg to be fucked by the other man like it's just been so long that he's desperate for it. He wants Duster to come to him, to ask him. He wants to win by getting in the last word and by getting fucked six ways to Sunday by the end of this. He doesn't want Shigaraki to realize how long Dabi's wanted him and think that he was a step ahead of him.

Dabi doesn't hesitate to put the first of his plans into practice when he hears Shigaraki leave the house around dusk. He has been doing that every day, going out in a hoodie and sweatpants and running. Dabi is tempted to start doing that as well, his body feeling like it has more energy now, as if the cat parts somehow put a bandage over some of the hurts that were burned into his skin. He goes into the living room first. Shigaraki spends more time in here than he does, plugging his game system into the TV when he isn't messing with the safe upstairs or sleeping. His scent is all layered into the couch already, but Dabi brings the throw pillows up to his neck. He rubs them against his skin there and along his cheeks. He hasn't noticed the extra glands that make his scent stronger, but according to the doctor, they exist, and Dabi is absolutely going to abuse the shit out of them to make certain that while Shig is in this little den that he's been making for himself, he is going to be soaking in Dabi's scent and thinking about how good it would be to actually have him there with him.

Dabi makes sure the couch smells like him, and then he goes to the kitchen. Thankfully, the first task only took a few minutes, so he should have at least forty left before Shigaraki makes his way off of the trail and back to the house. As far as either of them can tell, aside from the delivery person who drives out here once a week and leaves the mail of ghosts in the box, no one else comes up here, and they've been very safe and isolated. Shigaraki can run all he wants through the forest, and when he comes back, he's always ravenous, always going to the fridge as soon as he does. Dabi gets out the head of garlic, whatever herbs he can find, and a good amount of butter. He sears and butter-bastes the steak on the stove, perfuming the air with the smell of the meat, his mouth watering even though this is not for him to eat. This is another tool for him to get his own satisfaction in the end, and that's what makes it work. He doesn't worry about getting the inside cooked past rare, he just wants it to be saturated in that rich seasoning and with the outside having that beautiful golden crust because he knows the raw meat inside will be just as appreciated as it would have been if Dabi had left Duster to just gnaw on it straight out of the fridge. But he develops that crust, sure the entire manor smells like the food, and then he takes it out of the pan and lets it rest on a plate. He knows that he just barely times this correctly when he hears Shigaraki come in through the back door again. Dabi is not about to get caught actually doing this and have to explain himself, so he quickly vacates the room, darting up the central staircase as quickly and quietly as he can as Shig starts to make his way towards the kitchen. His boss isn't stupid, he'll know that Dabi left the food for him, but if it makes his instincts any more wild, then it will have served its purpose. Dabi finds himself purring softly to himself as he imagines the other man downstairs, tired from his run, eating the food that he made him, maybe not something that Dabi hunted and killed himself, but something that still shows how he's thinking of the other man-- He shakes his head. Ugh. He has new instincts to contend with too, and he's hoping that the fact that cats are usually so aloof will help save him. After all, plenty of people believe cats domesticated themselves while wolves were coaxed into it by humans. He thinks that he'll be able to get the puppy yipping at him for attention long before he ends up needing it from Shigaraki.

///

Tomura has done, he thinks, an admirable job with keeping his work and pleasure separate throughout the years. He was fully intending on continuing that streak when it comes to Dabi, no matter how badly he wants to bend the other man over and make him purr. But as soon as the other starts to poke fun at the rut that Tomura is not particularly looking forward to, smelling more like burnt sugar than acrid smoke, he perks up. His advances, previously thought to be something that might scare the skittish arsonist away, clearly aren't going to be a problem the way that Tomura thought they would. He also just happens to pick up on the fact that Dabi won't accept them if he comes right out and says that if he's going to spend a week consumed with lust, he wants to do it with Dabi in his bed. He wants to flirt with the idea, but isn't saying anything outright, as he starts to layer his scent over the places that Tomura spends time, in making him food when he goes out for his run. Tomura didn't even know that Dabi could cook, but every time he comes back to the house, he finds that Dabi has made some new meat-forward dish for him, all of it tasting fantastic, but the cat nowhere to be seen when he does so. And when Tomura tries to thank him when they're talking about work when they do see each other throughout the day, Dabi abruptly ignores those words. Tomura wonders if it's easier for him to make this a game because then he doesn't have to worry that he might not want Dabi if he had any other option for his upcoming cycle.

Maybe it's an unflattering assumption to make about Dabi, but he... doesn't think that the other man has particularly high self-esteem. From how he pretended to not notice how Magne flirted with him, to apparently burning people alive when they insult his appearance, to the absolute vitriol he met Tomura with back at the bar when they still didn't get along well and Tomura had met his nicknames of 'hand job' and 'mophead' with 'zombie' and Dabi had nearly torn out his throat, he just doesn't think that Dabi believes that anyone can really be attracted to him. Which is a damn shame because if he didn't just have his aloofness but also the confidence that he could if he knew how badly other people want him, he would either be the most insufferable prick on the goddamn planet, or he would be the person to convince all of Japan to turn against the heroes. If Tomura just come outright and tells Dabi that he wants to spend his rut with him, Dabi is going to laugh, mock him for it, and then shoot him down and Tomura knows that he's not going to do that because he's uninterested, he's going to do it because even if he wins this game, he's not going to trust himself to have the prize-- either his satisfaction that he was right and that Tomura wants to spend his rut with him, or the reality of doing so. So Tomura won't tell Dabi he wants him. Dabi needs to break first. He needs to want Tomura so badly that he goes for it without thinking and then Tomura will be able to meet him there and show him that the feeling is mutual. That's the only way that he'll be able to get him to understand that they can both want each other. That that's fine. They can have that. They don't have to be loners or just co-workers just because they're villains. They can have more than that.

And if Dabi wants to use his new instincts to get under his skin, then turnabout's fair play.

Tomura starts, perhaps unconventionally, by trying to crack the safe that the others located. He could decay the door open, but if that triggers the alarm then they could lose this safe house and it's one thing for him to go into rut in a house with Dabi who he is actively attracted to and who he wants to be involved in that. He would hate to be stuck in the smaller safehouse with all of the League having no choice but to let them know what's happening to him as he has to be locked away in one of the three bedrooms. He wants as many resources as they can get right now, and he'll need a few to prepare him for his rut if he's going to make it through it comfortably, with or without Dabi joining him. He gave the League everything that he could get from the doctor, and they have anything they got from selling off what they initially found here. If there is anything in this safe, then a bit of that can go to his personal goals before the rest is sent to the League so they can keep busy and safe while he and Dabi are indisposed.

Tomura has never been a safe cracker, but he is lucky that this one is an old-fashioned safe that they've attached a newer alarm onto. He's pretty sure that if he can crack the tumblers, he can get it open without setting off the system and will be able to get at whatever is inside. Compress texts him some information about the model that he had him gather, and Tomura probably wouldn't have attempted this at all, but his ears are so sharp now, that just from the lightest twist, he can hear the mechanisms inside spinning. He is as careful as he can be and over the course of the most nerve wracking ten minutes of his life, he manages to get the tumblers to click into their correct places. He holds his breath as the alarm system's blinking red light goes dark for a moment before it turns green as the door unlocks. He lets himself breathe properly again and then opens up the safe. There are a few stacks of bills neatly tied together, which is a miracle that Tomura really hadn't thought he would get, but more interestingly is that there are a few file folders with stacks of paper inside. He sets the yen aside to count later, and picks those up.

A list of heteromorph support and activist groups that the CRC was going to target, a full list of other members and other properties that the CRC owns including deeds to the land, as well as politicians who have accepted bribes from the organization and heroes who have been sponsored by companies associated with the hate group. It's all good information. Anti-heteromorph sentiments are so widespread that they often go unnoticed by the average citizen, but they are still present and there is a very vocal minority that will certainly make a huge stink with this information in their hands. Spinner mentioned knowing some more extremist groups that were willing to fight for their rights and to end the long-standing prejudice. This is a lot of information. Plenty for them to work with and try to cultivate relationships with other organizations that they would like to have a good working relationship with as they start to make bigger moves. He resolves to send this along to the rest of the League to see how far they can get by making contact with some of those organizations and then he starts to count the yen that was present.

Tomura hates to have to go through the doctor to conduct this business, but getting the money and information to the others using Johnny is more convenient than having to ask them to make their way such a distance to pick up the items. And if he also has a good chunk of the money deposited into his and Dabi's accounts after months of not having a penny to their names, then that's only fair. The majority still goes to the others to use to make sure that they're doing alright and have what they need.

It still feels strange to place an order online for things to be delivered to the house, but when the mail comes at the end of the week, the postal worker just leaves it all at the door and goes on his way without knocking. Dabi is, thankfully, asleep or elsewhere in the house when it happens and Tomura is able to take the somewhat large box that he'd procured upstairs. Dabi is still sleeping in one of the other rooms, but he suns himself so often on the balcony of the other. Tomura is pretty certain the only reason Dabi hasn't moved to this bedroom is because it's only a door away from the one that he'd claimed for himself. He hears him anyway, when he actually goes to bed at night, how he whimpers and hisses softly in his sleep as nightmares come to him and he fills his room with the acrid smell of fear and smoke. He wishes that he could make that better for Dabi, but he wants to avoid talking about it so badly that he'll split his time between rooms to make it easier for him to hide.

He can't do things for Dabi easily, and he is being forced to accept that. So leaving the outdoor heater on the balcony along with a blow-up mattress is as much as he can for now. He likes to sun himself, but Tomura knows that the weather is still getting colder. He probably isn't as warm as he wants to be, not without having to keep his quirk closer to the surface of his skin. So if this is the most that he can do for him, then Tomura will be happy to give him this. He makes sure that everything is set up for Dabi's afternoon nap and then goes to get ready for his run as well, armed with a new book about forest foraging.

///

Dabi smells Shigaraki all around the balcony long before he stepped a foot inside and he'd been certain that the other must have just gone looking for him there. For about two minutes as he entered the room and made his way over to the balcony, he had been smugly delighted over that prospect because he was damn certain that meant that the other man was breaking-- only to find that Shigaraki was trying to up the game on his end too. The balcony has been transformed into an even cozier resting place. A mattress blown up for him to sleep on, with the blankets and pillows he always drags outside with him neatly arranged over top. And Duster one hundred percent knew that he would be coming to this spot soon, because the small outdoor heater that he's set up nearby is going, making the air warmer enough that Dabi won't be left shivering if a cloud strays in front of the sun or a breeze rustles the trees. It's so warm and cozy and Dabi is purring immediately as he smells Shigaraki's scent all in the bedding from how he set things up for him. He doesn't know where he got the heater or the mattress, but he doesn't care as he immediately gets down into the bed, shedding layers of his clothes so he can enjoy the light on his skin and the way that his and Shig's scents layer over one another on his body. He purrs and purrs, kneading at the blankets until he's too cozy to keep his eyes open a second longer.

When he wakes up, it's after dusk, and for a long moment he doesn't remember why that matters as he stays curled up in the bed, so warm and comfortable against the evening chill, the fresh air all around him making him feel... peaceful for a moment. And then his stomach growls and he shoots upright, his hand lashing out to turn off the heater before he's on his feet and trying to pull his clothes back on. Shit! He completely missed Shigaraki leaving for his nightly run. Fuck, he needs to go get dinner started if he wants to keep up the assault on his instincts. Dabi scrambles downstairs, glad that their bodies are more than happy to have raw foods right now and that he does have some quicker things that he can make for the two of them.

Dabi rushes into the kitchen and throws the steaks they have into the freezer to make cutting them a bit easier as he goes for the crusty bread that he thinks Compress picked up to pair with the wine that they found in the liquor cabinet, and slices that, throwing the pieces onto a tray to go into the toaster oven when he is ready for them. He chops the shallots and gets the other seasonings that he wants in the dish, cracks two eggs and separates the yolks before returning them to the fridge, and, long before he can get the prep done, he hears the door open up again as Shigaraki comes into the house. Dabi has to fight to keep his ears from drooping down. Fuck. He can't just sprint for the hills and hide now, not without intrinsically admitting to Shigaraki that he doesn't want to talk to him, not when their dinner is only half made.

He resolves himself to the conversation that he's going to have as the other makes his way straight for the kitchen, his footsteps not hiding his approach as Dabi shakes off the franticness of their meal preparation so that he doesn't look like he's harried or rushing. He expects Shigaraki to smell like sweat and exertion when he comes into the kitchen, but instead he just smells like... Dabi sniffs the air, something in him perking up as there is a faint pungent scent that is lingering on the other's hands as he moves over to the sink to wash them.

"Hey," Duster greets easily, "Thanks for cooking lately."

Dabi shrugs, wanting to know what that smell is and why it's making his nerves light up and pay attention. "You can't and I didn't want to just gnaw on meat right off the bone." Maybe if it were fresh. If it were something that he hunted himself and that he caught beneath his teeth or under his claws. If he felt it squirming around and had its blood hot on his tongue-- Dabi forces himself to shake that. He's been feeling more violent lately. He isn't exactly a pacifist or anything, he usually only wants to murder people when they piss him off, but he has never been the type to think that fucking up an animal was a good time just for the hell of it. Which means that this is just a cat thing. He wonders how satisfying it would be to snatch a bird out of the sky and that makes him wonder if every seemingly well-behaved house cat looks out of the windows and fantasizes about blood this often. It seems excessive even knowing that cats are hunters.

"I still appreciate it. It's been helping me feel like I have a pack."

Dabi tries not to let himself startle, not having thought that the other man would actually admit something like that. He also... doesn't know if that's the desired result. He doesn't know enough about wolves to know if that means that Shigaraki is more or less likely to want to fuck him through his rut and there's no good way of asking for clarification that won't give up his part of this game.

Shig goes on before he can try to find a new angle, "I found something while I was out. I think you'll like it. I'll give it to you after dinner."

God damn it. First the balcony set-up, then coming back and catching him cooking, now making it so that Dabi will either have to manage to curb his curiosity or stick around and eat with him before he gets whatever he found. Maybe that's what that pungent smell was? Agony. Heis not expecting to be so completely and thoroughly outmatched by the other man so fucking quickly, but he will come out on top. Wolves are more social than cats. Maybe spending time with Duster will make him more excited.

"Sure, be cryptic, creep." Dabi shrugs, and he continues to cook. Their meal comes together quickly enough, and by the time they're sitting down together, at the counter rather than the proper table that feels way too formal, Dabi is having to smother a purr as Shig's tail begins to wag as they share the meal together.

///

Tomura can't stop wagging his tail as he catches Dabi in the kitchen for the first time since he started cooking them their meals. Not only that, but he successfully ropes him into staying and eating with him, the bag of silvervine in the pocket of his hoodie and hopefully something that his companion will adore the way that Tomura has been loving every meal that Dabi has offered him since they shifted. When they've finished eating, Tomura does the dishes as Dabi clicks on his phone, making sure that everything that they sent over to the others seems like it's in order, and when those are drying in the rack, Tomura invites him to go into the living room instead.

"What? Did you buy me a scratching post too?" Dabi asks, rolling his eyes. But his ears are forward with his interest and he pushes up from his seat at the counter without hesitation, belying his interest.

"No, but if you want one, then that's absolutely something we can get. This might make it more fun when you use it."

"'Fun'?" Dabi follows him into the living room that he's all but claimed as his den given he spends more time here than he does in the bedroom that he uses, his sleep still irregular even with his new instincts layered on top of his existing insomnia.

"Have you tried to get any catnip yet?" He asks.

Dabi's ear twitches and that bare flicker of emotion tells Tomura he hadn't even thought about that possibility before now. Whatever he's been doing when he's not sleeping or cooking, he doesn't seem to think about all that much. "No. Not exactly trying to indulge in this whole," he flicks his wrist dismissively. "Thing. Especially not if I don't have to get used to it."

Tomura doesn't say anything about his frequent naps or the fact that they don't know if this will actually just be temporary, instead sitting on the couch and waiting for the other to follow him as he reaches into the pouch of his hoodie and pulls out the bag full of silvervine that he searched all afternoon for. "Well this is silvervine, some people say that it's better than catnip and there's a ton of it along one of the paths that I run. I thought you might like it." He hands over the bag and goes on as Dabi turns it over in his hands, inspecting the leaves like they might hold some terrible secret that he'll be able to unearth. "I think cats mostly sniff it and rub their faces into it--" Dabi opens the bag and takes out a handful of the leaves and things happen so quickly after that. Tomura watches his eyes go big, the slitted pupils swelling until there's barely a ring of blue left in the wide black as they expand, and then he's shoving the handful of leaves into his face. He licks at them, rubs them against his cheeks, under his nose, and he starts to purr so loudly and insistently that Tomura is stunned silent. He watches as Dabi dumps the rest of the contents out into his hands and he just keeps rubbing them all along his face and body. Tomura can smell the plant, the herbal, pungent scent not particularly interesting him, but Dabi's expression is so blissful that he can't help the twinge of arousal that goes through him as he imagines that might be what he looks like if he ever gets him under him, blissed out and enjoying being taken apart.

He barely smells that twinge of arousal, and he startles slightly when Dabi clearly does, pulling his face up from the crumpled leaves and moving across the couch towards him, still purring so loudly that he doesn't know if Dabi can talk at all. He pushes a handful of the leaves up towards Tomura's face and he tries to not coo at how cute the other is being, his expression blissed out and hazy, his tongue peaking out from behind his lips as if he hasn't even noticed that it's out. So cute. Tomura catches his wrist and sniffs the plant, just to satisfy him, but then he gently tries to push it away,

"It's all for you, kitten. I got it to help you feel good."

Dabi purrs even louder, and once he's rubbed enough of the smell onto his body, licking the oils from the leaves from his fingertips, he scatters them across the couch before he turns back to him. Tomura startles, his hands immediately moving away from the other's body, thumbs tucked into the palms of his hands in his surprise, as Dabi pushes his way into his lap.

"Whoa-- hey, careful. I'm not wearing my gloves, kitten."

Dabi doesn't stop purring. He climbs into his lap and starts to rub their cheeks together, the texture of Dabi's scars and staples strange against his skin, but something he wants so keenly to grow used to as he feels it happen. His kitten sinks his claws into his hoodie, kneading at the fabric as he does so. Tomura can't help the little yip that comes out of his throat in turn. Fuck. He didn't realize that the silvervine would make Dabi cuddly. He thought he was going to see him keyed up. Maybe embarrass him with the laser pointer that he has in his back pocket, but the other curls himself into his body, purring so loudly and so constantly, the sound rumbling through his chest as if it belongs there. He keeps layering his skin with his scent and after a second, Tomura carefully reaches for the top of his head. Dabi pushes against his palm as he does so, his eyes slipping shut as his purrs go even louder as he lets Tomura... pet him.

He lets him move his fingers carefully through his soft, dark hair and along the pale white fur of his ears. He wonders why this quirk only gives people white-furred animal parts, his own tail and ears also pure white when his hair is light blue, but he has to say that the stark difference on Dabi's body is lovely. He is very gentle as he moves his hands along his ears, scratching around the base, his tail starting to wag even faster as Dabi moans and arches into the touch.

"Tomura," He doesn't know if hearing his own name has ever put so much heat in his veins, but Dabi... hasn't ever called him that before. The others do, he never told them that they couldn't. But Dabi keeps them all at arm's length, even just in how he addresses them. He doesn't want to be closer to them than that. But Dabi wants him closer right now. He wants to be allowed to hold him just like this whenever Dabi wants to be. He wants to be allowed to make him feel so good that his body can't hide that joy from him as he purrs and purrs.

He's gentle and careful as he pets Dabi's head, his hand stroking down his back like he would a real cat, and Dabi moans and purrs. He stays in his lap, rubbing their cheeks together, moving down Tomura's neck, and pushing his face into his chest too. Tomura lets him. Dabi doesn't feel any hotter than normal, so his quirk isn't acting up, and his heartbeat, while a little faster than Tomura normally hears it, isn't racing so badly that he thinks the plant might be dangerous. So he lets Dabi stay right where he is, making sure that his touches aren't overly forward even as the other man straddles his lap so he can be pressed as closely together as they possibly can be.

It's only a half an hour before the purring trails off and Dabi stiffens against him. His skin goes hotter through his clothes and Tomura is suddenly certain that the effects of the plant have worn off. He feels Dabi take his claws from his shirt and knows that if he lets him leave now, there is no way that he's not going to bolt completely. He'll be lucky if he even stays in the mansion, and the game that they've been playing is suddenly pointless to him.

"I want to spend my rut with you, Dabi." He doesn't let go of the other man as he starts to sit up, Dabi refusing to look at him.

"Asking to bone before you drug a guy is usually the better order of events, creep."

"I didn't mean to drug you. I didn't know how this would affect you. You didn't either." He can argue with Dabi all he wants about the fact that he took the bag from him and shoved it directly into his face. But that's only going to take Dabi from being embarrassed to being pissed off and he does not want to deal with that. He just wants-- Tomura shifts, catching Dabi's chin with three fingers so the other knows he can pull away from the touch without being hurt. He still won't meet his eyes, glaring at his chin instead as he makes him angle his head up. "Neither of us know how to be what we are right now, and it hasn't been easy to adjust. But I think I'm going to need help to get through my rut without losing my mind and I want you to help me with that. You don't have to, but I would be happy if you did. I wouldn't trust anyone else to do so."

Dabi stays still and silent for a second and when he does deign to speak, he starts by huffing and rolling his eyes. But that doesn't stop Tomura from seeing the faint blush that starts to rise to his cheeks again. "Fucking, fine. Whatever. I'll save our fearless leader from dying of blue balls, as long as you cut it with the sappy shit."

Tomura wants nothing more than to hold Dabi right where he is and tell him how much he adores him, how he has for... well, months now. That he wants to keep him close, to keep him safe until he feels like telling him his name and how he ended up a villain, that that's the reason why he always makes sure that he's guarding Dabi from close combat when they're in the field together. He can't stop himself from doing it because the other man always wanders so far away from him otherwise and makes it so that Tomura can't protect him from anything. He wants to be good to him. He wants to be kind. He wants to tell him that he would tear down the world for him if it just meant that Dabi would let him be any closer than they are right now. His teacher would have sighed with his disappointment to know that Tomura has grown so attached to one of his underlings, but for as much as he considers the rest of the League his good friends, for the amount of seriousness that he takes in ensuring that they are all going to be okay and reach their goals, there is just something so fundamentally different in how he feels about Dabi that he can't shake or diminish in his chest.

But he thinks that it's knowing all of that, knowing who Dabi is in the ways he's allowed him to see him, that tells him it's not time for that yet. Maybe someday. Maybe when they've won this war and Dabi has finally found his peace with whatever happens after. But not now. Now he rolls his eyes too, reaching down for Dabi's tail and wrapping three fingers around it loosely and pinching it at the base instead of pulling on it. Dabi yowls, jumping out of his lap with a hiss as Tomura leans back against the couch like he's unbothered by the entire situation.

"Not my fault that you act like sincerity itself is going to kill you." He reaches for his controller, "It's a good thing you don't shed like a real cat or my clothes would be destroyed."

"Fuck you, Duster. You leave wet dog smell all around the house after you shower!" He snaps right back. But he doesn't leave the room to go sulk somewhere else. He stays. Maybe other people wouldn't think that's enough, but Tomura, despite how hard the arsonist has tried to the contrary, knows Dabi. This is as big of a concession as he'll ever get out of him, and as they spend the evening just sitting together in the lounge, Dabi occasionally rubs a leaf of silvervine between his fingers and licks away the oils, purring softly as he does so, as he lets himself relax and enjoy the time they spend together.

///

Dabi, despite the humiliation of getting so high that he nearly dropped to his knees right there on the couch, has, in some ways, won the game that he was playing with Duster. He asked him outright to spend his rut with him. Sure, Dabi had hoped to have him begging and desperate, but this is fine too. He just... doesn't know why he's starting to feel trepedatious about it now. He doesn't want to admit it, but he is nervous about sleeping with Shigaraki now that it is completely on the table as something that is going to happen as soon as his rut arrives.

Maybe that's why, as they settle to eat dinner a few nights later, Dabi not hiding away before he comes back for each meal anymore, he says, "The quirk changed my dick."

Shigaraki pauses with his fork halfway to his lips. The pork cutlets they're having tonight have the most non-meat food that they've had in all of the time that they've been doing this, "... It changed mine too."

Which, Dabi doesn't know if that's a relief or not, but it does, at the very least give him the gumption to keep talking. "Do you have spikes on yours now?"

"Spikes?" He sounds appropriately scandalized by that thought but he moves on faster than Dabi would have expected him to be able to. "No. But... when I cum," Shigaraki's ears pin back slightly, showing the embarrassment in a way that his voice and face don't, "apparently I'll... swell at my base with a knot."

"'Apparently'?" He asks, somewhat incredulous, "You haven't jerked off since you turned? What? Your quirk too dangerous to risk it near your dick?"

His ears stop drooping as the question takes away whatever nerves that he had before. "No. I just haven't felt the need to. When my rut comes, I'm going to be out of my mind with arousal. I would rather not have to rush up to that point so I haven't been pushing my body like that. What about the spikes?"

"They're sharp, and unpleasant, and along the base, beneath my ladder." He mutters. "I was trying to figure out what to do about them so I don't end up cutting either of us open."

"What about a cock sleeve?" Shig offers, going back to the meal like this is a perfectly normal conversation for the two of them to be having over their food. "One of the textured silicone ones. That will be thicker than a condom and should be able to stretch wide enough so that you can put it on and let the barbs sink into it instead of our skin."

Dabi doesn't show how little experience he has with those kinds of toys and just agrees, "Worth a try. Hopefully you don't go into rut before I can get one here."

"Hopefully." He agrees and there is another beat where Dabi waits for something else to happen. For either of them to acknowledge how insane it is that they're going through all of this together and that they are just... casually planning on sleeping together to make it out the other side as they wait for any news from the doctor.

"Have you just gotten really into exercise lately, or is the running you taking yourself for a walk?" He asks as they start to eat again.

"I feel even more restless than I used to when I don't get exercise now, but I'm not pissing in the forest if that's what you're asking." Shigaraki pauses for a second though before he goes on and Dabi is tempted to press on that, wanting to find something to rattle him because-- well, he just does. Maybe he's felt rattled for a week and a half now and he just wants to bring Shigaraki down to his level. But it feels more desperate than that as the urge to find a way to destroy whatever is happening between them rears up more and more violently beneath his skin. "I... like running. I go off the paths a lot, chasing rabbits, deer, birds. I know that I don't need to hunt, but when I let myself play at it, I feel a little less like a wild animal pretending to be a human." He sighs softly, turning his attention back to his plate. "It's ridiculous, but harmless, and as long as it's helping, I figure I might as well let myself have that."

Dabi doesn't tell the other how he's been fantasizing about catching the birds he sees as he sits curled up on the balcony in the afternoon, how his mind runs wild through the forest looking for something to kill, that he has felt himself growing more and more restless each day that he spends mostly sleeping with no entertainment that can actually hold his attention the way that he wants it to. But two nights later, when Shigraraki is stepping into his tennis shoes to head out for his run, Dabi joins him at the door, in a pair of sweats as well as he intends to run with him.

"Got you something so you don't get lost, puppy." He says, tossing the length of fabric at him as he laces up his own shoes. It's a miracle Shigaraki was able to get that fucking safe open and get them the funds that they needed. He wouldn't have been able to get the cock sleeve, packets of lube he has in his pocket, or the exercise clothing without it. He felt silly carrying around the former two, but they have no idea when Shigaraki's rut is going to hit, and he would rather have them on him than the two of them have to fight their instincts to get what they need to. It makes him feel less silly when Shigaraki looks at what he threw him.

"You know people put cats on leashes when they take them out for walks too." He hooks it on the coat rack by the door.

"Oh, come on, you're not going to heel for me, puppy?" He mocks right back, wanting a rise and not getting it.

"I'd rip your arm out of its socket sooner than you'd rein me in, kitten." He shoots back easily. "Come on, let's see if you can keep up."

It's a challenge and one that Dabi immediately wants to rise to, even as he sees how Shigaraki's tail is wagging behind him as they leave the mansion and start to head out into the forest.

///

Running is exhilarating. Dabi doesn't know why he spent so much time locked up in the mansion when he could have been doing this. He could have been enjoying the way that the wind feels as it passes over his skin. He could have soaked in the scents of the plants, the dirt, the mountain air, and the animals that are skittering through the trees and brush the way that he and Shigaraki are as they run. Duster keeps them on the path for a bit, but once it's clear that Dabi is more than determined to keep pace with him, he starts to take him off of the path. He brings him through the grove of silvervine, letting Dabi catch the scent of it wild in his nose and picking several more sprigs of it for him to take back to the house. But while they're there, Dabi doesn't feel the same as he did the first time. That floaty, hazy bliss that overwhelmed him before when he was surrounded by his and Shigaraki's scents doesn't make him want to press in close to his body and purr. Instead, with night falling over the forest, he finds his ears swivelling towards the trees, listening, his eyes scanning their surroundings, much sharper in the low light than they ever have been before. He watches. He listens. And when he sees the dewy black of a shiny eye against the dark grass, every muscle in his body uncoils as he darts towards it on light feet.

The rabbit bursts into movement as Dabi chases after it, his human mind melting away as he knows that his legs can carry him faster than the small cotton-tailed creature. He leaps over bushes and around trees, never losing sight of the creature. his claws pressing out from his fingers. Closer and closer, he draws near as the rabbit panics and looks for a place to escape his pursuit. He sees the den a few meters ahead of them and doesn't let the animal find the safety of its home. Dabi pounces. His body is weightless for a moment as he sails through the air to the creature, landing on top of it in the grass and dirt, his hands against its soft furry body. His claws sink into its flesh and the rabbit lets out such a cry of terror. He didn't know that rabbits could make noises like that as he presses its body so hard into the ground that it can't struggle against him, stopping just before the point where he thinks that bones would break. But he doesn't kill it. He lets it shake beneath his palms, blood wet on his fingertips, and looks at the terror in its eyes, so wide now that he can see the white that those big black marbles sit on.

Dabi startles when Tomura steps up beside him, reaching down to the rabbit. He hisses at the other man, not wanting to give up his toy, and only then realizing what he just did.

"It looks healthy enough," Shigaraki tells him. "And you did such a good job hunting it, kitten." His voice is even and soothing, and that helps Dabi focus a little more, his body shaking from the adrenaline that went through him, that is still going through him and making him feel insane as he realises that he hunted an animal like he was one himself. That he wanted to. That Shigaraki saw him do it. Shigaraki kneels down with him as the rabbit continues to make its sounds of distress, the cuts Dabi's claws made perfuming the air with the smell of blood and he reaches for its head with two hands. He keeps his fingers free from its gnashing teeth that would still cut skin if they got it between them, and he twists sharply, sending the sound of cracking bones through the air.

The body in his hands goes limp, but Dabi still feels like he's shaking apart. The violence that has been living under his skin since he turned into this is so big and so wild, and it's finally been let loose. And all he can think is that it would have been much more fun to let the injured rabbit go in another part of the forest and then hunt it down again. And again. Sinking claws into it over and over until it couldn't limp on anymore. It would have been fun. Now that it's dead, it's not fun anymore.

He doesn't mean to mew inquisitively at Shigaraki. He means to use his words like a person because that's what he's supposed to be. But how does he not feel like this? He's a wolf. Wolves hunt. They eat rabbits. Doesn't he want to hunt too? As he turns his attention more fully to the other man, he manages to take in a scent beyond that of the blood and silvervine in his nose. That warm spice that rolls off of Shigaraki's body that is so distinct from the smell of exertion that is clinging to both of them. Not hungry for meat or a hunt right now, just hungry for him.

Dabi has blood on his fingers when he reaches for Shigaraki's sleeve and pulls himself closer, pressing his nose against his neck as he searches for more of that smell to make sure that he's right. The heat of Shig's arousal surrounds him, and with his toy dead, he starts to press in for more of this instead. This can be just as satisfying, can't it? The cat instincts that are swimming through his mind try to shake away the human ones that tell him that he shouldn't press this. But why wouldn't he? They have what they need to make this good. Tomura wants him right now. And if they have this, then Dabi won't have to be the only one who let his instincts completely override his good sense.

He thinks that this is working because Shigaraki doesn't manage words either, instead letting out a low growl that turns into a softer chuff as he lets himself dip his face to Dabi's neck in turn, his hands shifting to wrap carefully around Dabi's hips. He breathes in Dabi's scent and he wonders if Tomura can smell the bloodlust that is soaking his veins right now. If he can, he doesn't seem to mind it as he noses along Dabi's neck, his tongue following that path as he licks away the sweat that is lingering against his skin. The mewl that leaves his throat is weak as the human part of his mind starts to try to rebel with his embarrassment. He doesn't want that right now. He just wants to feel as good as he knows Shigaraki can make him feel, as good as the silvervine does, as good as it is to just give into his instincts and let himself be a cat. He wants the animal satisfaction that came from the hunt, that came from running, that can come from getting their bodies intertwined in whatever ways that they can right now. So he reaches for Shigaraki's hair, smearing blood through the strands as he pulls his head up from his neck and presses their lips together.

Duster doesn't hesitate to kiss him back, his lips like cracked stone against his, both of their mouths falling open more quickly than Dabi would have done if he were kissing anyone else under any other circumstances. There is no part of him left that can care about finesse when all he wants is to have the satisfaction that he can get out of tasting the other's skin.

Tomura's hands tighten around his hips and he pulls him away from the rabbit's body and into his lap, his mouth moving against his as their tongues press against one another. Their teeth are too big, the sharpness of them feeling strange and dangerous as they try not to draw blood from each other as they kiss. But that doesn't keep the kiss from making heat go through Dabi's entire body as it happens. Instead he is left with his entire frame humming with the first threads of heat as they press back in again and again, until the air in their lungs is going thin. As soon as they part, as soon as Dabi has enough breath to do so, the purr starts to rumble out of his chest and he doesn't let the other man pull him up from the ground to take him somewhere else. He wants him now, has wanted him for months, and he's tired of waiting for it. Dabi pushes into the other's lap, spreading his legs wide around his hips and pressing their bodies together so that Shigaraki can feel how he's already getting warm, his cock starting to stir at the thought of getting to satisfy his desires. It earns him another growl, another kiss, as Duster takes the hint and stops letting his human mind do so much of the thinking as well.

Dabi tangles his fingers in the material of Shigaraki's hoodie, his claws getting caught in the fresh holes that he puts in the material, as he tries to drag the fabric up over his head. Shigaraki lets him pull it away, the fabric flicked somewhere else as Dabi dips his head down to lick at the sweat against his skin, admiring the way that his build has started to fill out with lean, functional muscle. Strong, fast, dangerous, deadly. That's what a mate should be. The purrs in his chest rattle louder as Duster puts his hands on his body. His middle fingers never touch him, staying raised even as he pulls him closer and tugs off Dabi's shirt in turn.

"Fuck, Dabi--" the words get cut off with a whine that's so pained and so canine, and Dabi's ears pin back, worried for a moment that he's cut him open on his claws, that the barbs along his cock have snagged in the fabric and poked through their layers, but when he makes himself focus and actually look Tomura in the eyes, he sees that they are dark with his want. "Can't-- don't think I'll be able to stop--"

"Don't stop." They've barely started and Dabi wants everything that he can get, no matter that this is the place that he's going to have to get it. "Tomura," he smelled how wild that made him on the couch, he wants it more now.

It earns him another growl as Duster lifts him, turning him over, away from the body of the rabbit, and pinning his back to the dirt. Before his weight can settle over Dabi completely, his hand fumbles down to one of the pockets on his pants, tugging it open roughly with his claw through the zipper, before he barely manages to extract the sleeve and handful of lube packets to try to assuage the other of any additional trepidation he might have for this. Tomura lets out a growl that has Dabi moaning in turn, the sound so feral and unlike anything that he's ever heard from a partner when he's been pinned like this. Duster pulls on his gloves quickly and then his hands are completely on Dabi's body, moving over his chest and thumbing against his nipples. He hooks his finger in the hoops through them and gives them a light tug that has Dabi purring even more as his nerves start to light up with the sensation. Tomura presses his face back into his neck, those sharp, big teeth pressing into his skin, biting this time with enough force that Dabi knows that he could tear him open if his control slipped even the slightest bit. It makes his whole body tingle with fresh heat as it happens. They are both deadly. Not just from fire or decay, but with teeth and claws too. Tomura could tear him to shreds, he could snap his neck as easily as he did the rabbit's, but he won't. It's an intoxicating thrill that goes through him to know that. Because if Tomura snaps his neck, then Dabi will be cold and dead like the rabbit too, and Tomura wants him. He wants Dabi the way that Dabi has wanted him for months now, and he wouldn't ruin him and lose the opportunity to have him hot and tight around his cock and the new knot that is going to swell inside of his body. Dabi doesn't know if this amount of foreplay has ever had him trembling before, but every drop of pleasure feels like it's amplified as it races along his nerves. He's not sure if it's the silvervine or if it's just the ability to give into the want that is sitting under his skin, but he doesn't care. Finding pleasure has never been easy for him with his burns, the fear that came from finding places and partners to hook up with, and the way his own self-conscious thoughts constantly echoed through his mind. Being able to throw all of that away and let himself be ravished happens as automatically as his purring as Tomura licks and nips down his chest like he doesn't mind his scars at all.

He must feel the same need as Dabi is, his arousal scent thick in the air and enveloping them in spice. He takes the sleeve and lube and puts them aside so that his hands can catch Dabi's waistband. He makes sure he has his boxers and pants before he pulls them down, letting Dabi arch up into it so that the fabric comes free, though it does snag a bit against the barbs along his cock. Dabi whimpers, the air cool against his overheated skin as the temperature continues to drop as the night grows longer. His cock is already hard and aching and Tomura licks his lips as he sees him, like the piercings and barbs both only spur on his arousal instead of making him reconsider this. He doesn't fumble at all as he reaches for the things that Dabi brought with him, but his tongue does sound like it's being choked on his own animal sounds of pleasure as he tries to speak.

"You're so cute, kitten. So pretty with the moon shining against your staples." No one else has ever called him attractive like that, has ever said that they liked the way that his staples look against his skin and all Dabi can do in response is mewl as his tail curls uncomfortably beneath him. He tries to shift, but there's no way to get it out of the way so that his mate can get more access to his hole when he's on his back. Tomura sees his discomfort and shushes him, leaning up to lick at his cheek as he tears open one of the packets of lube with his other hand. "It's alright, kitten, I'm going to help you feel so good. Just have to be patient another minute."

Dabi hisses at him, softly. He doesn't want to wait at all. He wants to be full, wants to feel good, and he reaches towards his own cock to try and figure out how to stroke himself as well as he can. Tomura growls at him in turn, smearing the lube inside of the sleeve and squishing it around to get it wet before he makes sure it's nice and open, being careful of his claws, before he slides the sleeve down Dabi's length. The silicone is soft and thick, constricting around his cock almost like an onahole, and when it's in place, there's no way for the new barbs to cut into Tomura's hand as he then immediately strokes along his length. Even through the sleeve, the sensation is good, the slickness of the lube inside of it allowing it to move smoothly against him, held in place by the barbs. Maybe it will rip if Dabi keeps fucking his hips up into the touch, but he can't care about that when he is immediately moving to get more, wanting to chase the pleasure that he can get here as quickly as he can.

But Tomura stops all too soon, shifting to nip at Dabi's new ears, the ones on the top of his head so sensitive and making him shiver as his teeth graze the skin before his tongue flicks out to lick his fur as easily as he did his scars. "Roll over, baby. I want to play with my kitten's tail."

Dabi scrambles to do as he's told, his body shivering with heat as his quirk brings his skin hotter as his new instincts run uninhibited through his body. His sweats are still tangled around his legs, but he doesn't care. They keep his knees from digging into the ground the way that his fingers do, his claws out and scraping grooves in the dirt as he feels his tail lift and tilt to the side so that his mate can see his hole and press his cock inside. He wants it inside. He wants to feel full as he strokes himself through the sleeve. He wants an orgasm more than he's wanted anything else in his life.

Tomura's hands are on his body again as soon as he's settled. The texture of his gloves keep his quirk from activating, but they also cover his claws, and that means that when the wet fabric of them reach for Dabi's hole, he doesn't have to fear being torn open as they press inside. He gives him two immediately, and that has Dabi yowling, the sound echoing around the forest as he feels how his body is forced to stretch. It sends a burning sensation up along the base of his spine that screams in his mind not that he's in pain or that he's going too fast, but that this is how mating is supposed to be. Maybe it's because his body knows that a cat would have spikes along their cock that would do far more damage, maybe it's because the idea of being enjoyed so primally makes him feel like he might fall apart completely. He doesn't care. All that matters is that it starts to feel good in a few seconds and he's starting to rock back to get more as the wolf curls his other hand around the base of Dabi's tail and starts to stroke around the place where it connects. He hasn't touched himself there yet and the sounds that start to fall from his lips and echo around the forest are so loud and wanton that he would be ashamed of them if he were in his right mind. Why? Why should he ever be ashamed of his pleasure? He should always get to feel this good. He should have this kind of pleasure whenever he wants it.

Tomura stretches him on two fingers, three, four, and Dabi likes the way that they feel as they move inside of him and press him open, but he knows that he'll like them so much more if he actually gets the other to give him his cock, and he turns his head to hiss at him over his shoulder.

"What's wrong, kitten? Does it hurt?" He asks, his own expression so drenched with lust that Dabi isn't certain how he's refrained from just sinking inside of him. His cock is straining against the front of his pants and Dabi's mouth waters as he sees the tent that it's made. Big, his hazy mind manages to tell him. His mate's cock is so big.

"Inside," he whines when he finally manages to get his tongue to work. "Inside, Tomura."

That seems to snap whatever thin threads of control the other man was clinging to for so long, because Tomura finally lets out a growl as loud and as animal as the sounds that Dabi has been singing through the forest. He takes his hands away and Dabi shivers from how cool the air feels against his wet hole as he watches over his shoulder as Tomura moves behind him. He doesn't bother with completely removing his pants and undergarments either. He just tugs them low enough for his thick, long cock to spring free, so heavy that it doesn't curve as dramatically up against his stomach as Dabi's does, his head flushed and dripping, with thick veins winding tantalizingly across his skin. Dabi mewls again, spreading his legs wider instinctively as he sees the size of him. He's so thick, so long already that he knows that he needed to be stretched to take him inside without being torn open. He's going to get bigger? Inside of him? Dabi starts to tremble again, his arousal so high that he thinks he would choke on it if he weren't keeping his throat clear for the purrs that are constantly slipping out of him.

Tomura tears open another packet of lube and spills it over his skin, giving himself one stroke to make sure he's covered everywhere that he needs to be before he catches Dabi's hip and holds him in place as he lines up. Dabi doesn't want it slow or gentle. He wants to be filled, so as soon as he feels his head against his hole, he pushes his hips back as hard as he can, and the soft pop of the other man slipping inside is lost completely in Dabi's resulting yowl and Tomura's answering snarl as his control shatters. Both hands on his hips now, his grip tight enough that Dabi feels the bruises forming under his skin, and then he is sunken into his hilt and Dabi's mind ebbs to one single unending note that simply screams to him that he is full.

There is nothing refined or practiced as they move together then. It is all the pure pursuit of pleasure in whatever form that they can get it in. He fumbles to wrap his hand around his cock and stroke himself again and again in time with every hard thrust into his body that makes him aware of places along his insides that he didn't even know could be touched like this. He feels his tail tremble, his body shake, smoke leak from his seams as blood beads up in the corner of his eyes as he can't quite savor every thrust when he's too busy chasing that sharp fullness that he will get with the next. He just takes and takes everything that he can get and he doesn't care how long it's taken or if some other partner would think it's too soon. When he feels the starting pressure of his orgasm, he chases that just as ardently. He lets it crash over him as soon as he can get it, his tail curling slightly, his claws tearing up the ground where his hand braces him in place, his cock pulsing as pleasure sparks through his body, the sharpest points of it torn between the delicious fullness of his ass and his cock as he stripes the grass white with cum.

His muscles give out and his shoulders drop to the forest floor, his cheek pressed into the undergrowth as it happens. He doesn't care. His hole is screaming, stretched so wide, still tingling with his oversensitivity as he soaks in the ecstasy that he's already taken from their coupling. It doesn't matter that his nerves sting now. They'll feel better again soon and he can satisfy this animal drive for pleasure all over again, as many times as he can get it. And his mate will let him. His mate wants this just as badly as he does. He doesn't have to wait or be ashamed of how quickly he was able to reach his climax. He can have it as many times as he wants. Dabi purrs, letting himself be soft and pliant as Tomura continues to fuck him hard enough to put fresh starbursts behind his eyes on every thrust. He wants him. He's enjoying mounting him, in filling him up with such a big cock that Dabi is certain that his insides will always crave it again. He chases his own completion, every movement sending a liquid heat leeching across Dabi's veins and making him feel like he might split open at his seams as lava gushes out of them. His cock isn't even hard, but he finds himself trying to stroke it through the sleeve again as he makes such animal whines as his body is brought into these new sensations as Tomura's cock pounds into him and bruises his insides.

The other man lets out a roar when his orgasm crashes through his body, his hips confusingly drawing back as he starts to pump his body full of cum. Dabi whines softly, pressing his cheek to the dirt as he tries to look over his shoulder to see why he's not being given the knot that he thought he was supposed to be receiving. And then Tomura slams his hips back into Dabi's. The yowl that echoes off the trees around them sends birds fleeing their nests as the massive intrusion makes Dabi's vision burst with stars. He was already breathless from how large the wolf was, but his knot? The thickness of that swollen around his base makes a much louder pop ring through the air as it forces its way inside of his body and stretches him through the first three inches of his body while the length of his cock is still able to press in deep. That hard knot puts so much pressure more shallowly and Dabi is a supernova as his prostate is suddenly met with such a constant pressure as he feels Tomura's seed splashing over his walls, cool compared to the burning of Dabi's body.

The wolf keeps moving his hips, shallow rolling thrusts that tease his rim with the possibility of pulling out but never actually slipping loose. It puts more and more of that good pressure against his prostate and Dabi tries to work his hand over his flaccid cock faster, wanting his body to turn that hot tingling sensation that is aching across his nerves into a real orgasm. But he can't make it happen before he's letting out such a pitiful mewl as two hot, bloody tears slip over his cheeks from how overwhelming the sensation is. He wants more, but all his body can manage is to make that burning spill through him as his entire form shudders as Tomura keeps his knot rubbing against his prostate. Dabi hasn't ever had this dam break inside him with pleasure far weaker than an orgasm and pulsing from that deeper place rather than along his cock, but it comes now and he is helpless to stop it. His cock twitches in his hand and then, without his balls drawing tight, something far thinner than cum starts to leak out of his body, so copious that it begins to make a proper puddle on the ground as Dabi squirms and mewls until it stops and he is left panting, his whole body made of liquid too as his instincts now urge him to sleep instead of anything else.

He thinks that he might actually fall asleep right there on the ground, at least for a while. Until Tomura's knot is slowly starting to get smaller and he's waking enough to whine that the fullness in him is ebbing away. But when his knot is gone, Tomura moves, slipping out of his body and pulling his pants back up. He is strong enough now to make Dabi's body move even when he ragdolls against the touches, wanting to melt again and sleep. He always wants to sleep now, loving the way that it comes so easily and with fewer nightmares now that his body is like this. But he can't have that as his mate pulls his pants back up too, then finds their shirts. He just ties his hoodie around his waist and balls up Dabi's shirt and shoves it into his pocket.

"Can you walk, kitten?"

Dabi doesn't want to, so he stays a puddle against the grass, and when he just keeps purring right where he is, his mate chuffs fondly at him before he reaches down and forces him up.

"Come on, you can stay on my back."

He doubts that the other man will actually be able to carry him like that, but he shifts so that he can put his arms and legs around his body anyway, rubbing his cheek all against his hair, neck, and shoulders as he does so, further laying Tomura's skin with his scent. He is still surprised when Tomura is able to stand up, grabbing the dead rabbit in one hand, and keeping the other under Dabi's leg as he starts to make his way back towards the path that they strayed from. It's not hard to follow their scents back to the mansion and Dabi purrs the whole way there, his body pleasantly sore and the mess that leaks from his hole feeling satisfying instead of unpleasant as they go.

When they manage to get back to the house, Shigaraki carries him in, kicking off his own shoes, before he takes them to the kitchen. He tosses the entire rabbit into the freezer before taking out two of the packaged steaks and the pitcher of water, stacking them in his arms as he also manages to take a glass from the cabinets before he carries Dabi deeper into the house. They don't try for the stairs or for a bed. Tomura just brings him back to his den and settles Dabi on the couch. He puts the food and water on the coffee table, but before Dabi can sit up, wanting to eat to satisfy another animal desire, he is moving again, letting his hoodie drop away and flooding the space with the smell of his spice. Dabi mewls again, not sure if his body can take another round of that, but this is the rut that he said he would help with. He wants to help. He wants his mate to feel good. So he lets the other man strip his body bare right there on the couch, turning over again so that he can stroke his tail once before his hard, thick cock is sinking right back into Dabi's body for the second time that night.

///

Tomura doesn't remember much of his rut. He just knows the way that Dabi’s skin tasted, the way he smelled as his body was soaked in pleasure and sweat as they met each other again and again on the couch. He knows the way that his skin stung from Dabi's claws and how good it had felt to share bites of meat between their teeth before he had him full of his knot again and heard the yowls that would have grated against his ears if he hadn't known that they were coming from his mate. He remembers the taste of Dabi's blood when it slipped from his eyes as everything became too much for him. He remembers how warm he had been and how sweetly his purrs rang through his body when they had finally settled in for sleep and curled up together on whatever surface of his den that they ended up on.

He knows that those soft feelings inside of him are all the bigger when he comes out of that haze of hormones and finds that Dabi has curled into his body like he's small and is sleeping soundly, their bodies absolutely disgusting, but the other man not seeming to care about that in the slightest. Tomura strokes his hair, petting him as much as he can, wanting to find a way of letting all of the softness out of his chest, hoping that when it does, he's managed to shape it into something that Dabi will accept and consider keeping past this entanglement.

///

Dabi is beyond sore when Shigaraki's rut finally ends and he doesn't need to mount him again. Dabi lets himself come out of the animal place in his mind where he went before and they're both quiet as they start to pull themselves together. The couch is absolutely ruined, soaked in their fluids and torn up with stuffing coming out in places where Dabi's claws sunk into it. He wants to go and shower, maybe find something more substantial for them to eat because beneath the filth all over their skin, he feels hollow and hungry from how little they managed to eat. Their phones are also completely dead and without them, he has no idea how many days it's been since they got into this situation in the first place. Dabi isn't sure how he can feel so completely ruined, but he's never had so much sex in his life.

He means to say something to Tomura. A 'good job' on blowing his back out, a joke about how he's actually a horndog now. But he doesn't get that far, because when he manages to stand on his shaky, sore legs, Tomura follows him up and curls a hand around the back of his neck, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. "Let's go clean up, kitten."

He doesn't have the words or will to deny that when his body feels so crusty and gross right now. They go upstairs and when Dabi thinks they’ll separate to go back to their own bathrooms, Tomura pulls him along to his own instead. He gets Dabi into the big shower with him and when they're inside, he doesn't ignore him and clean up his own body, he takes a soft washcloth and his soap, and he moves it over Dabi's skin instead. Dabi doesn't find words as Shigaraki's hands are so soft against him. He's never been with someone more than once, let alone someone who he knows he's going to have to keep working with in the long-term. He certainly hasn't ever had someone's hands on him like this and it feels so different from the ways that they were mocking and teasing each other before.

But it's as Tomura works the shampoo through his hair and Dabi knows he must see how some of the black dye comes off in the suds, that he says, "Thank you, for taking care of me."

And it doesn't feel like he should be the one saying that when Dabi has never felt more seen or cherished in his life than he does right now as Tomura makes sure that none of the water gets into his new ears as he washes his hair for him. It's a stupid, reckless, human thing that makes Dabi press their naked bodies together, this feeling more intimate than any of the sex they've had throughout Tomura's rut as he kisses him.

It's very human when Tomura holds him gently, holds him close, and kisses him back with that same lingering sweetness that he found in his voice.

///

"Finally," It's the first word out of Toga's mouth when they get to the mountain base. Dabi is not shivering, but Tomura is, despite his large coat, absolutely not built for the cold the way that Dabi is. "We thought you guys were gonna get trapped in the storm."

They both had sensed that coming before their phones chimed in to warn them about the incoming snow, and Dabi is glad that they've made it to the others before then. They have fresh supplies to help them make it through the next week or so as they regroup and make sure that they know what they're heading towards next. The monster that they were supposed to be fighting to earn Ujiko's favor is dormant right now and the doctor is still more interested in figuring out if the heteromorphic traits they have now can ever been dispelled with gene therapy or if their best option really is to wait until Tomura fully unlocks the powers of All For One and can turn quirks on and off at will. He doesn't know, but he's glad that they don't have to worry about it for a little while Dabi hangs up his coat and makes Shigaraki do the same, the light flurries of snow that already started falling making the wool wet. Even though he's shivering, his ears pinned and tail trembling from the cold, he'll be better off without that layer as they move into the space that the League has been occupying.

"Aw, you're still a kitty?" Toga tries to pet him as they join the others in their living room setup, a ratty couch, and a couple of armchairs the only furniture.

"Fuck off, leech," Dabi snaps in her direction as he gets Shig to settle into a chair before he climbs directly into his lap and starts to let the heat of his quirk spill out from his body and warm his mate.

Tomura puts his arms around Dabi's waist, holding him close as they settle, lips pressing to his temple as he chuffs at him in thanks. And the others very wisely choose not to comment on their closeness as they settle in together. "We're going to be like this for a while, maybe permanently," Tomura tells them, "But that only means our position as allies to extremist pro-heteromorph rights groups can be strengthened. Spinner, have you been able to make contact with any of them using the files we sent you?"

The rest of the League takes in their closeness with open-mouthed shock, but Tomura's complete refusal to give them an inch to make this weird helps to spur the conversation back towards work. Dabi is glad that he doesn't have to say much, just needing to listen and catch up on the work that the others have been doing as they figured out how to function like this, because it means that he just gets to sit in purr in his mate's lap without anyone protesting the closeness.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment/ask. If you'd like to get a commission, consider checking out my guidelines, which can be found right here!

#shigadabi #my writing

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midastouch013 · 1 year ago

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Prank Back

Summary: Natasha plans to take revenge on your hickey prank with a break up prank, but what happens when the tables are turned?

Warnings: Mentions of break ups, sad Nat for a brief time. Y/n is a prank master, as usual

Can be read as a sequel to Hickey Prank Backfire, or as a stand alone too

---------------

Natasha Romanoff sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were narrowed, and her lips formed a smirk . The hickey prank that you had pulled on her a few days ago had left her determined to get her revenge. Natasha was known for being a master of espionage and a skilled prankster, so she couldn't let this go unanswered.The apartment was cloaked in an unusual tension as you stepped through the door, Natasha Romanoff perched on the couch, her demeanor unusually solemn. A frown etched your features as you approached her, the worry evident in your voice.

"Nat, what's wrong?" you asked, your tone laced with concern. "Did something happen on the mission?"

Natasha sighed heavily, her gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance. "We need to talk," she said, her voice low and serious.

Your heart skipped a beat at her tone, and you took a seat beside her, worried about what she wanted to say "Talk about what?"

She hesitated, her expression betraying the turmoil within. "Y/N, I think we should break up," she finally said, her voice steady but carrying an underlying sadness.

Your heart sank at her words, confusion clouding your thoughts. Break up? This was the last thing you expected, and you struggled to process the sudden turn of events. "Break up? Why?"

Natasha's eyes softened, filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "I just don't think we're on the same page anymore. It's better if we go our separate ways."

A knot formed in your stomach, the shock of her words threatening to overwhelm you. Natasha, the one person you never imagined being without, was talking about ending things between you. But even in the midst of your confusion, a flicker of suspicion crossed your mind. She was pranking you, to get back for the hickey one you pulled on her.

Playing along, you tried put on what looked like a forced smile. "Is there someone else, Nat?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

She shook her head, her eyes filled with sadness. "No, it's not about someone else. It's about us and where we're headed."

Feigning acceptance, you nodded slowly. "I understand," you said, your voice barely audible. "I've been feeling the same way too."

A look of panic flashed across Natasha's face, her carefully constructed plan beginning to unravel. "You have?"

You nodded again, internally smirking. "Yeah, I mean, I didn't want to say anything, but I've been thinking about it too."

The panic in Natasha's eyes grew more pronounced, her mind racing to find a way to salvage the situation. "Y/N, I… I didn't expect you to take it like this."

You shrugged, masking your internal laughter with a facade of calm. "It's probably for the best," you said, forcing the words out. "We'll both be better off apart."

As you stood up, pretending to gather your things, Natasha's desperation reached a higher level. "Y/N, wait! Maybe we can talk about this…"

But before she could say anything more, your phone rang, breaking the tense silence. With a glance at the caller ID, you saw that it was Kate Bishop. An idea sparked in your mind, and you answered the call.

"Hey, Kate," you said, your voice laced with tension.

Kate's cheerful voice came through the line. "Hey, Y/N! We're going out for drinks with Yelena and Wanda. You in?"

Playing along with the reverse prank, you used a code word to signal Kate about your fictional exit strategy. "Sounds good, Kate. Count me in. By the way, can I crash at your 'jelly' place for a few days?"

Kate chuckled on the other end. "Sure thing, Y/N. I've got plenty of room."

As you ended the call, you turned back to Natasha, who was watching you with a mix of confusion and panic. " I'm going out for drinks with Kate, Yelena, and Wanda," you announced, enjoying the bewildered expression on Natasha's face. " I'll be back tomorrow to get my stuff"

Natasha's eyes widened in disbelief, her mind struggling to process the sudden turn of events. "Drinks? Y/N, you can't be serious."

You nodded solemnly, "Yeah, Nat. I need some time away to clear my head. Oh, and I'll be crashing at Kate's, so you don't have to worry about me bugging you till I get my own place"

The color drained from Natasha's face as she stammered, "Crash at Kate's? You're really leaving?"

With a dramatic flourish, you headed for the door, relishing in the chaos you had created. "Well, maybe it's for the best. You wanted to break up and there's no way we can stay in the same place, and Kate's a good friend. I'm sure she won't mind."

As you stepped into the hallway, leaving Natasha in a state of confusion, you couldn't shake the twinge of guilt that tugged at your conscience, because of last time. However, you knew the prank was all in good fun, and you couldn't resist the opportunity to turn the tables on Natasha in the most unexpected way.

So, rather than heading out for drinks with Kate, Yelena, and Wanda, you decided to make a detour. A quick stop at the local convenience store allowed you to pick up Natasha's favorite ice cream, knowing that a sweet treat might help soothe the aftermath of the elaborate prank.

A few minutes later, you returned to the apartment, holding a pint of Natasha's beloved ice cream. The once-confused expression on Natasha's face had transformed into something more profound—an amalgamation of surprise, relief, and a hint of vulnerability.

"Change of plans," you announced with a warm smile, though concern flickered in your eyes. "I thought we could use some ice cream instead of drinks."

Natasha looked at you, her features betraying a mixture of emotions. "Ice cream? What happened to going out with Kate and the others?"

You handed her the pint, but this time, the playful banter was replaced by a sense of understanding. "I knew you were pulling a prank, Nat. So, I decided to play along and spice things up a bit."

A shadow passed over Natasha's eyes, a momentary vulnerability surfacing. "You knew? From the beginning?"

You nodded, the mischievous glint in your eyes replaced with a genuine concern. "Yeah, I had a feeling. But I wanted to make sure this prank didn't take a toll on you."

The weight of the situation became apparent as Natasha accepted the ice cream, her usual composure momentarily shaken. As you settled onto the couch together, the air was thick with unspoken emotions. Natasha, typically unflappable, now looked like she was on the verge of a breakdown.

Concern etched your features as you reached out to her. "Nat, are you okay?"

She hesitated, a vulnerability in her eyes that you rarely saw. "I… I didn't expect it to go this far. I thought it was just a prank, but… it felt real."

Gently, you squeezed her hand, offering reassurance. "It's okay, Nat. Pranks are meant to be fun, not distressing. Next time, I'll stick to dying your hair as a prank, and you're welcome to dye mine"

Natasha's expression softened "Well, aren't you the hero I never knew I needed? Saving me from the perils of my own pranks."

You couldn't resist adding a touch of humor to lighten the mood. "I aim to be the prank rescue squad. It's a niche market, but someone's gotta do it."

She shot you a sardonic smirk. "Oh, lucky me. I've got the best sidekick in the business."

You chuckled, nudging her gently. "Sidekick? Please, I prefer the term 'prank aficionado.'"

She raised an eyebrow, deadpan. "Aficionado? Fancy. I'll make sure to put that on your superhero business card."

"Absolutely. Don't forget to add 'Master of Deception' and 'Ice Cream Enthusiast,'" you quipped.

Natasha pretended to ponder this for a moment. "Well, at least you're setting realistic expectations. I appreciate that."

"Oh, always keeping it real," you replied, a grin playing on your face.

She shook her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You know, most people have normal relationships. But not us. No, we're out here mastering the art of pranks."

"Well, normal is overrated. Besides, where's the fun in predictability?" you teased.

Without a word, you leaned in towards her lips, the smirk turning into a smile as you shared a sweet kiss.

She was still definitely pranking you again, but for now,

Natasha: 0 ; Y/n: 2

#avengers #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff hurt/comfort #natasha x y/n #natasha marvel #natalia alianovna romanova #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow x you #black widow x reader

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luvhaos · 6 months ago

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on a winter's night | xmh

pairing: xu minghao x reader genre: gn! reader, black widow! minghao, scarlet witch! reader content/warnings: mild violence and a fight scene word count: 866 summary: your first meeting with xu minghao is as unique as they come.

author’s note: (i lowkey want to to continue this) happy holidays to everyone!

The streets are pitch black when you follow Xu Minghao out of the bar. His steps are quick and silent despite the layer of snow and ice on the ground from yesterday’s snowfall, leaving no imprint behind. It reminds you why Seungcheol sent you after him.

He turns a corner, and when you do the same only a few steps back, you see nothing but an empty street, lit by dim streetlights. You curse in your head, pulling out your radar to check where the tracker you attached to his jacket is when the world turns upside down and you’re on your back in an alley.

Minghao is on top of you, one hand around your throat and the other holding a sleek switchblade just above. His expression is neutral but you can see the venom behind his eyes. “Who are you and why are you following me?” he asks, and you feel the frigid steel against your already-cold skin.

Your fingers twitch to use your magic — you could easily move him off you — but you have to keep it low profile. Instead, you reply, “An interested party.”

His eyes narrow and he scoffs, breath puffing in the air. “I’ll pass.”

“Sorry, you misunderstand me. I’m interested in what you can do, Minghao.” You offer him a teasing smile and say, “I’ll explain more if you let me up.”

He just applies more pressure to your windpipe and you cough a little. “Do you think I’m stupid? Who sent you?”

“My—” You pause to consider the wording, “—boss. Your work caught his eye and he’s interested in your skillset.”

“If you two know so much about me, then you should know I don’t do that anymore,” he hisses. “But I won’t hesitate here and now.” He pushes down harder and you feel your airflow thin.

Above you, the clouds shift, the gray blanket opening up to reveal the moon. In the silvery light, you can see Minghao’s face more clearly — all his sharp angles and surprisingly soft features. His glare is a perfect replica of the one in the photo attached to the dossier Seungcheol handed you three days ago but the tiny photo did not do justice to just how attractive he is in front of you. Black dots pepper your vision and you wheeze out: “Not even for the chance to end the Red Room?”

He freezes above you and in that split second, he lets up just enough for you to buck him off, your lungs greedily accepting all the air you inhale. Your throat is throbbing in pain as Minghao falls but regains his balance easily, getting to his feet with a frightening speed and lunging for you, blade at the ready. You barely dodge him, aiming a kick at his chest. With one smooth motion, he is flipping over you, graceful as an acrobat. He hooks your neck with the crook of his elbow, twisting and dragging your body against his. Even underneath his thick wool coat, you feel lean muscle.

You see his switchblade coming toward you again. With a flick of your fingers, you send him pin him against the wall, tendrils of red smoke curling around his wrists. His eyes widen and he scowls at you as you approach. “Now you use this? Where was this before?”

“I always like an element of surprise,” you say with a wink. He looks wildly unimpressed.

“So you just let me choke you? Are you a masochist or something?”

“Or something,” you answer. “But as you can see, we’re more alike than you think — not normal at all. And neither is my boss, which is why he’s interested. He’s different in his own way and is assembling a group of people like us to take down places like the Red Room. He wants to know if you’re interested.”

Minghao is silent as he watches you carefully, eyes flickering around, and you know he’s assessing exit strategies. You sigh, “I’ll let you down if you promise not to kill me.”

“Seems unlikely that I’d be able to with all this.” He nods at the misty bindings.

You wave your fingers and he lands easily, crossing his arms. He studies you for a moment, eyes roving your face. “You’re not lying, I know that much.”

“I’m not.”

“I don’t know,” he says, voice distant. Although he faces you, you know he’s looking past you and your heart aches in sympathy. It’s not hard to discern what he’s thinking about — you’re all too familiar with what it’s like to be a living weapon.

“That’s alright, you don’t have to make any decision right now,” you tell him, reaching into your coat pocket and holding out the card Seungcheol gave you He takes it from your hand, reading the words on it. “But just… think about it.”

He’s still, unmoving and as you turn to leave, you say your name. His eyes meet yours, questioning, and you say, “You asked me who I was.”

He repeats it, syllables fading into fog in wintery night air. You hold his gaze and offer a small smile before you turn out of the alleyway and disappear into the night.

#seventeen x reader #the8 x reader #xu minghao x reader #minghao x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #the8 imagines #the8 scenarios

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mononijikayu · 1 year ago

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love me back — fushiguro megumi.

She wonders if Fushiguro Megumi had ever noticed how much she loves him. she wonders when he would ever notice those flustered scarlet cheeks. she wonders if he notices when she would wait for him to call her. she wonders if he notices her laughter, when she notices him pouting when he gets told off by his sister. She wants his attention, she loves his attention. She wants him to love her back. she doesn't know if he even loves her back. Maybe Megumi doesn't love her back. but she thinks it's okay. as long as she can love him. At least that’s what she thinks she’ll be okay with.

GENRE: Pre-Fearsome Womb Arc, 2017;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Banter, Awkward Confessions, Misunderstanding, Love at First Sight, Young Love;

masterlist

buono san valentino, 2024;

listen: love me back by fromis_9

SHE COULD REMEMBER IT AS CLEAR AS DAY WHEN SHE FELL IN LOVE WITH FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. Navigating the unfamiliar corridors of her new school, she couldn't shake off the nervous energy that coursed through her veins. Everything about this new town and school felt daunting, like stepping into an uncharted territory where every turn held a new challenge. As she made her way through the bustling hallways, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety gnawing at her insides.

The morning had started off in a rush, with her jolting awake to the realization that she had overslept. Regret flooded her mind as she remembered losing track of time while immersed in the world of Animal Crossing the previous night. With a sense of urgency propelling her forward, she dashed out of her house and towards the school gates, arriving just in the nick of time.

Breathless and flustered, she darted through the crowded halls, paying no heed to the curious glances and whispers that followed in her wake. Every step felt like a precarious dance on a tightrope, teetering on the edge of uncertainty as she navigated the labyrinthine corridors in search of her classroom.

Relieved to have made it to her classroom on time, she let out a sigh of relief and offered a small smile as she settled into her seat, backpack safely stowed by her side. Glancing around the room, she noted that the teacher hadn't arrived yet, giving her a brief window of opportunity to slip out and use the restroom.

With a sense of urgency tingling in the back of her mind, she quickly reasoned that a quick five-minute break to relieve herself wouldn't hurt. After all, it was better than risking an embarrassing accident in class. Hastily rising from her seat, she made her way towards the door, determined to make the most of this brief respite.

As she tried to back away from the overly familiar stranger, her heart rate quickened, and her palms grew clammy. His sudden appearance caught her off guard, and she struggled to maintain her composure.

"N-nice to meet you," she stammered, her voice trembling slightly as she attempted to navigate the unexpected encounter.

Her attempts to politely dismiss him were met with persistence as he continued to block her path, his smile unwavering. The pressure of his presence made her feel trapped, her mind racing for a way to escape the uncomfortable situation.

"I really need to go," she insisted, her voice gaining a hint of urgency. "Please, can you move?"

Ignoring her plea, he pressed on, his demeanor becoming increasingly intrusive. Each attempt to evade his advances only seemed to embolden him further, leaving her feeling increasingly vulnerable and desperate for an exit strategy.

As the relentless advances persisted, the knot of unease in her stomach tightened, constricting her breath and clouding her thoughts. Each polite refusal seemed to only embolden the guy, his voice escalating in volume and persistence with every rejected attempt. The weight of his unwanted attention bore down on her, suffocating her in a sea of discomfort.

Despite her attempts to maintain composure, a rising tide of anxiety threatened to overwhelm her as she searched the crowded hallway for a means of escape. Every passing moment felt like an eternity, the clamor of students rushing to their next classes blending into an indistinct cacophony around her.

Her heart pounded in her chest like a drumbeat of distress, the rhythmic thud echoing in her ears as she desperately sought relief from the unwanted attention. With each futile attempt to fend off the persistent advances, her sense of unease deepened, gnawing at the edges of her resolve.

As she began to feel trapped in the awkward encounter, a familiar figure emerged from the crowd. A dark-haired boy with piercing green eyes strode purposefully towards them along the bustling hallway. She blinked in surprise, her gaze fixed on him as he approached.

He appeared to be around her age, maybe a fellow classmate? She gulped nervously as he neared, his calm expression belying the steely resolve in his eyes as he assessed the situation. Despite his youth, there was an air of authority about him that demanded attention.

"Hey, is everything okay here?" His voice, though calm, carried a note of authority as he addressed the persistent guy, his gaze unwavering as he met the other's gaze. The subtle intensity in his tone left no room for argument, signaling his readiness to intervene if necessary.

The guy, taken aback by the sudden appearance of the raven-haired boy, stammered for a moment, caught off guard by the unexpected interruption. He glanced nervously between the two of them, his attempts to maintain his composure faltering under the scrutiny of the newcomer.

"Uh, I was just, you know, talking to her. No harm intended," he muttered, trying to brush off the situation with a forced smile.

Megumi's sharp gaze bore into the guy, his expression unreadable yet undeniably intimidating. The guy squirmed under the weight of Megumi's scrutiny, his good graces faltering as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Talking, huh?" Megumi's voice was calm but laced with an underlying edge, sending a shiver down the guy's spine. "Didn't seem like she was interested in what you had to say."

The guy shifted uncomfortably, his confidence visibly waning as he realized he was outmatched. He stuttered, his words failing him as he struggled to come up with a convincing response. It was clear to everyone watching that he was no match for her newfound savior’s unwavering presence.

Sensing the guy's growing discomfort, The dark haired boy’s eyes continued to pierce through the other boy who started to back away. The guy shifted uncomfortably under Megumi's scrutiny, realizing that his attempts to salvage the encounter were futile.

"Right, well, I'll just, uh, see you around," the guy muttered hastily, before practically fleeing from the scene, eager to escape Megumi's piercing gaze.

She watched with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, her gaze flickering between the two boys. This boy must be known for trouble, she thought, noting the subtle tension in his posture despite his seemingly calm demeanor. Yet, there was something in his eyes, a kindness that softened the furrow of his brow, that reassured her despite the uncertainty of the moment.

As the raven-haired boy stepped closer, effectively closing the distance between them, she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for his intervention. Relief was all that flooded through her as the young boy in front of her deftly diffused the tense atmosphere, his presence serving as a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos of the hallway. When the guy disappeared, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, offering her savior a grateful smile.

"Thank you for that. I really appreciate it," she said, her voice tinged with relief and admiration.

“It’s no problem.” He said, ever so nonchalantly, as his hands rested on his pockets. “That boy wouldn’t bother you again.”

“That’s good to know.” She huffs in relief.

Megumi offered her a small nod, his green eyes meeting hers briefly. “He didn’t do anything else?”

She shook her head, her eyes beaming at him with gratitude. “O-oh no. It was all because of you. Thank you.”

“Hm, that’s good.” He nodded once more and slowly turned away from her, intending to leave without another word. However, her sudden call caught him off guard.

“O-oh! Hey, come back!” she called out to him, her voice slightly shaky with nervousness. She felt herself growing even more flustered at her own boldness, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of crimson. Megumi turned his head slightly, curious about her sudden change in demeanor. Her embarrassment only seemed to intensify as she struggled to find her words.

“W-what’s your name?”

“Fushiguro,” he replied, his tone steady but his eyes sharp. “Fushiguro Megumi.”

She bowed her head at him, her movements respectful and earnest. Megumi seemed momentarily stunned by her gesture, turning half of his body to face her fully. “Thank you so much for helping me!”

“U-uh,” he stammered, feeling a slight sense of unease at her overwhelming gratitude. He glanced away, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment, and nodded in acknowledgment.

Despite his attempt to leave, she continued to express her gratitude, her words flowing forth with genuine emotion. "No, really, I mean it. You're like my hero, Megumi. I don't know what I would've done without you."

Megumi's cheeks flushed even deeper at her effusive thanks, his usual stoic demeanor faltering slightly under the unexpected praise. "Hey, it was nothing, okay? You don't need to thank me so much," he mumbled, his tone gruff as he shifted uncomfortably. “Also, how are we on a first-name basis already?”

But she couldn't seem to stop herself, her words spilling out in an unstoppable torrent of appreciation. "But I have to! You saved me back there, and I'll never forget it. You're amazing, Megumi. Besides, aren’t we friends now?”

“How are we friends already? I don’t know you!” He sighed in exasperation, his embarrassment evident as he waved off her continued thanks.

“Well, we know each other now,” She says, smiling at him. “We’re now friends!”

"Stop thanking me already, geez," he muttered, his cheeks burning bright red as he turned on his heel and hurried back to class, leaving her standing in the hallway with a bemused smile on her face.

“See you later,” She waved him goodbye, still grinning. “Megumi–kun!”

“Stop it already!”

She thinks she didn’t make a friend then.

No, she made a lover in waiting that day.

She got to go to the toilets after that.

But she got detention, for being way too late.

Well, actually, because she caused a ruckus.

But she really didn’t mind it at all, no.

She got to think of Fushiguro Megumi all day.

AFTER THAT, IT WAS JUST A SLIPPERY SLOPE OF TRYING TO GET HIS ATTENTION.

From that moment on, her thoughts were consumed by Megumi. In the bustling classroom, she found herself stealing glances at him whenever she could, her heart skipping a beat every time their eyes accidentally met. She couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude and fondness that had blossomed within her since their encounter in the hallway.

As she sat at her desk, her mind often wandered to him, replaying the events of that day over and over again. She couldn't help but wonder if he ever noticed her lingering gazes or if he even knew her name. Did he remember her as the girl he had rescued from an uncomfortable situation, or was she just another face in the crowd to him?

Despite her uncertainty, she couldn't deny the warmth that spread through her whenever she thought of him. There was something about Megumi's calm demeanor and unwavering kindness that drew her in, leaving her yearning for more of his attention. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to approach him directly, afraid of overstepping boundaries or making things awkward between them.

She watched him from afar, her heart aflutter with every stolen glance. There was something captivating about him, something that drew her in like a moth to a flame. She cherished every moment they shared, no matter how brief, replaying them in her mind like scenes from a cherished movie.

Despite the distance between them, she felt a deep connection to him, as if they were bound together by an invisible thread of fate. She admired his stoic demeanor, his quiet strength, and the way he carried himself with an air of mystery. Yet she wanted to know more about him. Know more about what his dislikes were, what his likes were. What makes him tick, what makes him excited. What makes him smile and what makes his brows furrow. She wants to know everything about him.

But he seems to not always be around.

When she saw him in class, it was rare.

Megumi Fushiguro liked to mind his business.

But somehow he was always at the top of class.

She swooned, he was a smart pretty boy too, huh.

In the quiet moments of the classroom, she would steal glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking, her heart racing with anticipation every time their eyes met. She longed to speak to him, to tell him how she felt, but fear held her back, whispering doubts and insecurities in her ear. And so, she contented herself with admiring him from afar, silently admiring the way his eyes sparkled with intelligence, the way his lips curved into a rare smile, and the way he carried himself with quiet confidence.

Lost in her thoughts, she couldn't help but watch Megumi from a distance as he sat beneath the tree in the courtyard, engrossed in his book. The sight of him alone, immersed in his own world, filled her with a sense of longing.

"He looks so peaceful," she murmured to herself, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. "I wonder what book he's reading."

As she observed him from afar, she couldn't help but feel a pang of envy towards the book he held in his hands. It seemed to have captured his undivided attention, drawing him into its world with each turn of the page.

"He always looks so focused when he reads," she mused, her gaze lingering on him fondly. "I wish I could be the one to capture his attention like that."

Despite the distance between them, she couldn't shake the feeling of admiration and longing that swelled within her. Fushiguro Megumi may not have noticed her yet, but she was determined to find a way to capture his attention, even if it meant stepping out of her comfort zone.

She knew that one day, she would find the courage to confess her feelings to him, to tell him how much he meant to her. But until then, she would continue to admire him from afar, her heart filled with admiration and longing for the mysterious tsundere of a boy who had captured her heart.

As Valentine's Day drew near, she felt a surge of determination coursing through her veins. Watching her classmates muster the courage to approach Megumi and confess their feelings only fueled her resolve to do the same. Yet, with each passing day, the weight of her unspoken emotions grew heavier, weighing down her heart with uncertainty and apprehension.

In the quiet moments of solitude, she grappled with her conflicting emotions, torn between the fear of rejection and the longing to express her feelings to Megumi. But deep down, she knew that she couldn't let her fears hold her back any longer. She had to take a leap of faith, to lay her heart bare and confess her feelings, regardless of the outcome.

And so, with determination burning bright in her heart, she made a decision. She would confess her feelings to Megumi on Valentine's Day, no matter the outcome. If he didn't feel the same way, she would accept it with grace and dignity, knowing that she had poured her heart and soul into her confession.

With trembling hands and a racing heart, she poured her emotions into handmade chocolates, each one a labor of love crafted with care and affection. Each chocolate was a symbol of her unspoken feelings, a testament to the depth of her affection for Megumi.

As she wrapped the chocolates in delicate paper and tied them with a ribbon, she felt a sense of liberation wash over her. She was ready to take the plunge, to lay her heart bare and confess her feelings to Megumi, no matter the outcome. For her, Valentine's Day wasn't just about romance—it was about seizing the opportunity to express her true feelings and find closure, whatever the result may be.

She wishes she didn't love at all.

But life without love makes her feel ill.

Cause then, there isn't someone to love.

There wouldn't be any Megumi to love.

She screamed against the blank wall.

Courage, she thinks, comes from fear.

MAYBE IT WAS A BAD IDEA TO TRY AND CONFESS TODAY. As Valentine's Day dawned, she found herself engulfed in a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. Her heart raced with each step she took towards Megumi, her palms clammy with sweat as she clutched the box of handmade chocolates tightly in her hands. She spotted him standing by one of the hallway windows, the soft light filtering through the glass casting a gentle glow on his features. He seemed lost in thought, his gaze fixed on something in the distance, and she couldn't help but admire the serene aura that surrounded him.

Taking a deep breath to steady her trembling nerves, she approached him slowly, her heart hammering in her chest. Every step felt like an eternity as she closed the distance between them, her mind swirling with a myriad of emotions. She couldn't shake the nagging doubt that lingered at the back of her mind, wondering how many other girls had already confessed their feelings to Megumi on this special day, and how many rejections he had already doled out.

But despite her fears and insecurities, she knew there was no turning back now. She had poured her heart and soul into making those chocolates for him, infusing each piece with all the love and devotion she held for him in her heart.

As she approached Megumi, each step felt like a monumental feat, her heart pounding in her chest with every beat. She could sense his presence before she even reached him, the air around them crackling with tension and anticipation. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he turned towards her, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that took her breath away.

His emerald eyes, glistening like a tranquil meadow kissed by the morning dew, bore into her own, sending shivers down her spine. It was as if his gaze held the power to unravel her very soul, to lay bare her deepest desires and fears. She felt herself getting lost in those mesmerizing depths, her own eyes shimmering like stars in the night sky as they locked with his.

As Megumi's eyes met hers, she could see a flicker of surprise and curiosity dance in their depths, mingled with a hint of something she couldn't quite decipher. Was it confusion? Apprehension? Or perhaps something else entirely? She couldn't tell, but she knew she had to push past her own insecurities and doubts.

With trembling lips and a racing heart, she extended the box of handmade chocolates towards him, her hands trembling with nervous energy. She watched as his gaze flickered down to the box, then back up to meet her own, his expression unreadable.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she summoned every ounce of courage she had and spoke, her voice barely above a whisper yet ringing with determination. "M-Megumi," she began, her words faltering slightly as she struggled to find the right words. "I-I made these chocolates for you. F-For Valentine's Day.”

He didn’t speak back to her.

Rather he stood there.

Almost frozen at her words.

She felt even her heart race.

“I just wanted to say... I really like you. I've liked you for a while now, and I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore." She whispered slowly under her breath, eyes looking back and forth at his face. “You saved me during that first day and I….I admired you so much from afar after that. So I….I hope you can accept this honmei–choco from me!”

Her heart pounded in her chest as she awaited his response, her entire being trembling with anticipation. She knew this moment would shape the course of their relationship, whatever it may be, and she could only hope that her feelings would be reciprocated.

In that pregnant pause, the atmosphere between them crackled with tension, each passing second feeling like an eternity as they stood locked in a silent exchange. Megumi's gaze shifted between her and the box of chocolates she held, his usually composed demeanor momentarily faltering under the weight of her confession.

She held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears that she was sure he could hear it too. Every fiber of her being was attuned to his reaction, hanging on the edge of anticipation for his response. Would he accept her heartfelt gesture? Or would he gently reject her, shattering the fragile hope that had bloomed in her chest?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Megumi's lips parted, his voice soft yet tinged with uncertainty as he spoke. "I-I don't know what to say," he murmured, his tone hesitant as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

Her heart sank at his words, a rush of disappointment flooding through her veins. Had she misread his feelings? Had she been foolish to hope for something more? She fought to maintain a semblance of composure, her gaze steady as she waited for him to continue.

Megumi's brows furrowed in thought as he searched for the right words, his gaze flickering with a myriad of emotions she couldn't quite decipher. "T-thank you," he finally said, his voice slightly hoarse as he reached out to accept the box of chocolates from her trembling hands. "I appreciate the gesture. I... I'll cherish them."

His words, though polite and gracious, felt like a gentle rejection to her ears, a bittersweet reminder of the unrequited feelings she had poured into her heartfelt confession. Despite the pang of disappointment that tugged at her heartstrings, she forced a small smile onto her lips, nodding in understanding.

"O-of course," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she took a step back, her heart heavy with unspoken emotions. "I'm glad you like them."

With a final, lingering glance, she turned away, her footsteps heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unrequited feelings. As she retreated from his presence, she couldn't help but wonder if their paths would ever cross again, if the feelings she harbored for him would ever find their way into his heart.

As she hurried away, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling of regret that gnawed at her insides. Had she made a mistake by confessing her feelings to Megumi? Perhaps she had misjudged the situation, letting her emotions get the better of her in the heat of the moment.

Megumi watched her retreating figure with a conflicted expression, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He wanted to say something, to reach out and stop her from leaving, but the words eluded him, caught in the tangle of his own uncertainty.

"Wait," he called out, his voice barely above a whisper as he took a hesitant step forward, but she was already disappearing around the corner, out of sight.

With a heavy sigh, Megumi ran a hand through his hair, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words and missed opportunities. He knew he had to find a way to express his true feelings to her, to make things right between them, but he couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of unease that lingered in the pit of his stomach.

As he watched her vanish from view, a pang of regret washed over him, a silent acknowledgment of the opportunity that had slipped through his fingers. He couldn't help but wonder if he had made a mistake by not speaking up, by not seizing the chance to tell her how he truly felt.

With a heavy heart, Megumi turned and made his way back to his classroom, his mind consumed with thoughts of the girl who had captured his heart, and the confession that had changed everything between them. He knew he couldn't let her slip away without a fight, without giving their budding relationship a chance to blossom into something beautiful. But for now, all he could do was wait and hope for another opportunity to make things right.

He looks at the chocolate for a moment.

Megumi tries to unwrap it all carefully.

He felt his lips turn into a flat line as he looked.

He broke apart the chocolate and ate it.

“It tastes good.” He whispers to himself.

He could feel his heart pounding hard.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI WAS RUSHING ACROSS THE SCHOOL. As Megumi hurried to school, he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that gnawed at him. He was running late, and the pressure of making things right with her weighed heavily on his mind. Fortunately, Gojo was at home that day, and with his help in teleporting, Megumi managed to arrive just in time for the school bell.

As he stepped onto the school grounds, Gojo gave him a playful pinch on the cheek, wishing him good luck. The unexpected gesture caught Megumi off guard, and he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He muttered a quick thanks before hurrying towards his classroom.

However, as he passed by his sister Tsumiki's building, she waved him off from the balcony, offering him a warm smile and wishing him luck for the day. Megumi's blush deepened at her well wishes, feeling a surge of gratitude towards his supportive sister.

Despite the encouragement from Gojo and Tsumiki, Megumi couldn't shake off the nerves that plagued him. He knew that he had to make things right with her, to apologize for his inability to respond to her confession on Valentine's Day.

Since Valentine's Day, she had been avoiding him like the plague. In class, she strategically positioned herself as far away from him as possible, ensuring they never made eye contact or exchanged a single word. Even in the hallways, she made a conscious effort to steer clear of him, darting down different corridors or slipping into crowded groups of students to avoid any chance encounters.

For Megumi, her sudden change in behavior weighed heavily on his heart. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret every time he caught a glimpse of her purposefully avoiding him. He knew that his inability to express his feelings properly had caused her pain, and he desperately wished he could turn back time and make things right.

Every moment of silence between them felt like a dagger to his heart, a constant reminder of his failure to convey his true emotions. He wanted nothing more than to tell her how he felt, to let her know that she occupied every corner of his mind and every beat of his heart. He wanted her to understand just how deeply he cared for her, how she had become the center of his world from the moment he first laid eyes on her.

The days that followed Valentine's Day were filled with a sense of unease and tension between them, both uncertain of how to bridge the gap that had formed between them. Megumi couldn't shake the guilt that weighed heavily on his conscience, knowing that he had inadvertently hurt her with his lack of response. But as the days, the weeks passed and she continued to distance herself from him, Megumi couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of longing and frustration that consumed him. He found himself lost in a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of how to bridge the growing divide between them.

It wasn't until a particularly rough day at school, when Megumi found himself caught in a heated altercation with another student, that he realized just how deeply his feelings for her ran. She had been passing by, her eyes widening in shock as she witnessed the confrontation unfold. The sight of her only fueled his determination to protect her, even if it meant putting himself in harm's way.

After the incident, Gojo had approached him with a knowing smile, teasing him about his newfound love. Despite his initial embarrassment, Megumi couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that his feelings hadn't gone unnoticed. Even his sister Tsumiki had expressed her happiness for him, offering her support and encouragement as he navigated the complexities of love and relationships.

Despite the teasing and the uncertainty that still lingered between them, Megumi knew that he would do whatever it took to make things right with her. He was determined to find a way to convey his true feelings, to bridge the gap that had formed between them and show her just how much she meant to him. And as he gathered his courage to take the first step towards reconciliation, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope flicker in his heart, guiding him towards a future filled with love and happiness.

As the day of reckoning drew near, Megumi's resolve solidified. He couldn't bear the thought of letting another day pass without addressing the rift that had formed between them. With his sister's assistance, he meticulously crafted a heartfelt gift, pouring his emotions into every delicate detail.

On White Day, as the school buzzed with anticipation and excitement, Megumi steeled himself for the moment of truth. He carried the small box containing his carefully prepared gift, his heart pounding with nervous energy as he made his way through the bustling hallways.

Upon reaching her classroom, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves before stepping inside. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him, and he felt the weight of their expectations resting heavily on his shoulders.

Ignoring the curious stares and whispered speculation, Megumi made his way towards her desk, his footsteps echoing loudly in the quiet room. With each step, his resolve grew stronger, fueled by the knowledge that this was his chance to make things right.

Finally reaching her, he stood before her desk, his gaze meeting hers with a mix of determination and vulnerability. Without a word, he extended the small box towards her, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her reaction.

For a moment, she hesitated, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected gesture. She took the box from him, her fingers trembling slightly as she carefully untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.

Inside, she found a beautifully crafted piece of white chocolate, intricately shaped and adorned with delicate designs. The sight of it brought a soft smile to her lips, and she couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in her chest as she looked up at him.

Megumi's heart raced as he watched her reaction, his own emotions swirling inside him like a turbulent storm. He knew that this moment held the power to change everything between them, to mend the rift that had formed and pave the way for a new beginning.

"I... I made these for you," He said softly, offering her a box of white chocolate formed into small roses. He looked absolutely nervous, his fingers were shaking, he was pretty sure. "With my sister's help, of course."

She blinked in surprise, her eyes widening as she accepted the gift with trembling hands. "You... You made these for me?"

Megumi nodded, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Yeah. I wanted to... I wanted to apologize for what happened on Valentine's Day. I'm sorry for causing you trouble, and for not being able to respond properly."

She felt her heart swell with a mixture of joy and relief at his heartfelt apology. "No, it's okay," she replied, her voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for this. It means a lot to me."

“I….I’m glad you like it.” He looks down on his calloused fingers. He worked hard on them, for days. There was a lot of mess, and frustration. But it was worth it. Because she was smiling. “It really was….hard.”

Megumi sat at the kitchen table, frustration evident in the furrow of his brow as he attempted to mold the white chocolate into delicate rose petals. His sister, Tsumiki, stood beside him, offering guidance and encouragement with a patient smile.

"Come on, Megumi, you're almost there," Tsumiki said, her voice gentle but firm as she watched him struggle with the chocolate. "Just a little more finesse, and you'll get it."

Megumi sighed heavily, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to mimic his sister's graceful movements. He had always admired Tsumiki's skill in the kitchen, but he never realized just how difficult it was to master the art of chocolate sculpting.

"I don't understand why I can't get it right," Megumi muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as he tried to shape the chocolate into a semblance of a rose petal. "It's like my hands have a mind of their own."

Tsumiki chuckled softly, reaching out to gently adjust his grip on the chocolate. "Relax, Megumi. Making chocolate roses takes practice, but I know you can do it," she said, her voice filled with confidence. "Just take a deep breath and try again."

Megumi nodded, taking a moment to steady his nerves before focusing his attention back on the task at hand. With renewed determination, he carefully shaped the chocolate, his movements slow and deliberate as he tried to emulate Tsumiki's expert technique.

After several more attempts, Megumi finally managed to create a passable rose petal, albeit with a few lumps and imperfections. He looked up at his sister with a mixture of pride and relief, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I did it," he said, his voice tinged with disbelief as he held up the chocolate rose for Tsumiki to see. "It may not be perfect, but I made it."

Tsumiki beamed at him, her eyes shining with pride as she reached out to gently ruffle his hair. "I knew you could do it, Megumi," she said, her voice filled with affection. "And trust me, practice makes perfect. By the time you're done, you'll be a pro at making chocolate roses. And maybe you’ll impress that girl you like!”

He could feel his face turn a deep shade of red. “Knock it off!”

“Ha ha ha, how cute is young love!” Gojo teased from the sofa, in the living room. “Genmei, quick, take the camera and take pictures!”

“Satoru, we can’t keep teasing him like this, he won’t survive the night!” Genmei pursed her lips, slapping his her husband’s hand.

“Eh~ But its fun!”

“Megumi!” She called to him, almost worried that he got lost for a moment there. “You’re furrowing your brows!”

“O-oh.” He felt a little bit embarrassed now. Megumi swears, he really is going to punch Gojo one of these days. “Sorry….I blanked out.”

She laughed, her face turning red. “It’s okay…..It’s cute.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” She smiled at him.

"I just….” He continued, his voice growing softer as he spoke, "I.. I care about you. A lot. And I hope that we can move past this and start over."

She looked at him tenderly. “Of course we can, Megumi.”

Megumi took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say next. "And... There's something else I wanted to tell you. I... I realized that I have feelings for you too. I'm sorry for not saying it sooner."

Her eyes widened in surprise at his confession, her heart skipping a beat at the unexpected revelation. "You... You do?"

He nodded, his gaze unwavering as he met her eyes. "Yeah. I do."

A warm smile spread across her face, her heart overflowing with happiness and gratitude. "Thank you, Megumi. Thank you for everything."

Megumi returned her smile, a weight lifting off his shoulders as he basked in the warmth of her acceptance. "No, thank you. For giving me a second chance."

She grins at him, red cheeks echoing.

Fushiguro Megumi thinks he's happy.

Just seeing her smile, knowing of his love.

This was the best decision ever, he was sure.

It's just nice to be loved back, so well.

extra : at the gojo household

Satoru Gojo stood in front of the mirror, meticulously adjusting his tie to perfection. The blue hour filtered through the window, casting a gleam on the small box of white chocolates he held in his hand. It was a White Day gift for his beloved wife, Genmei, a token of his affection and appreciation for her unwavering support.

With a satisfied smile, Satoru carefully tucked the chocolates into his pocket, ensuring they were safely secured for the day ahead. Just as he finished, his phone chimed with a new message, interrupting the peaceful moment.

Curiosity piqued, Satoru unlocked his phone to find a message from Megumi. The text was brief but direct: "I'll punch you later."

A chuckle escaped Satoru's lips as he read the message, his eyebrows quivering in amusement. "Oh, Megumi," he murmured to himself, his lips curling into a playful grin.

Without hesitation, he tapped out a reply, his fingers dancing across the screen. "I'll take my chances! 😄"

As he hit send, Satoru couldn't help but imagine Megumi's reaction on the other end. The thought brought another chuckle to his lips as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, ready to embark on his day.

"Kids these days," he mused with a shake of his head, a fond smile lingering on his lips as he made his way out the door, eager to surprise Genmei with the thoughtful gift. "Ah~ Young love."

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