PARIAH - A Shigaraki X F!Reader Fic

PARIAH - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Shigaraki Tomura was buried three days ago, struck down at last by the affliction that’s haunted him all his life. Now, with muffled screams emanating from the graveyard and the same affliction striking down villagers left and right, the priest has ordered Shigaraki raised from the grave and put to death properly this time. It falls to Spinner, wracked with guilt over his best friend’s fate, to seek help from a monstrosity equal to the one that haunts Shigaraki — the witch who dwells in the darkest part of the forest. In other words, you.

Nosferatu AU, Spinner POV, 5k+ words. Vampires, wolves, and witches, oh my! If you like Gran Torino this is not the fic for you.

Not far now, Midoriya said the last time they stopped to catch their breath, but the woods seem to go on endlessly, and Spinner feels as though he’s been running for even longer. He’s no stranger to fleeing for his life. In one way and another he’s been doing it since he was born. But he’s never run for someone else’s life before. Never before has someone else’s survival hung in the balance of his heavy footsteps through the snow and the breaths of air so cold it sears his lungs. Spinner is the weakest of them, with the least to offer, closer to dead weight than a valuable ally. But in this moment, he’s the only one who can save Shigaraki’s life.

They came to this village six months ago, and for six months, life was quiet. The villagers were wary of strangers, of course, particularly strangers like Spinner and his friends, but for once, they all managed to keep their heads down. Toga made friends among the maidens in the village, while Twice made himself useful., and Dabi did them the favor of putting out fires rather than starting them. Spinner helped where he could, but mostly he watched Shigaraki. The evil that haunted Shigaraki had done so all his life, but it had only attempted a fatal strike when their backs were turned, and when they fled with the city in flames behind them, Spinner swore he would never allow such a thing to happen again.

Spinner kept a careful watch, but it didn’t matter. The affliction came again, weakening Shigaraki to the point where he could barely rise from his bed, and worse, it began to spread through the village. The villagers blamed Shigaraki and came to punish him, but they were too late. Spinner’s best friend died before his eyes three nights past, and the villagers buried him in an iron coffin before the sun could rise.

Or at least, Spinner had thought Shigaraki was dead. On the first day, he believed the muffled screams issuing from the graveyard were the manifestation of his own guilty conscience. But on the second day, the others heard them, too, and although the villagers believed they had locked away the source of the affliction, it continued to spread. The priest came to the graveyard, heard the screams, and ordered Shigaraki exhumed. Fool that he is, Spinner thought they meant to help him.

Then he and everyone else saw the ash stake in the priest’s hand, sharpened to a deadly point. It was an error to bury him whole, the priest said. This will quiet him forevermore.

They could not reason with him. No logic could overcome the priest’s certainty, nor the absolute faith the villagers had in him. It did not matter that Shigaraki had not left the house since falling ill. It did not matter that the coffin had been locked shut, nor that the surface above the grave was undisturbed. The priest and his followers buried Spinner’s best friend alive, and now they mean to dig him up and stake him through the heart.

Spinner hung back as Dabi and Toga and Twice argued. He’s worthless at arguing, just as he is at everything else, but as he stood at the edges of the conversation, someone caught his hand and drew him away. When Spinner looked down, he found Midoriya Izuku looking up at him. The strangest child in the village, known for daydreaming so vividly and so often that he falls into potholes at least twice a week, wore a determined look that shocked Spinner in its ferocity. You cannot stop the priest, he said. Only the witch can do that.

Every rural village has its superstitions, and this village has the witch – never seen, never spoken to, always blamed for blighted crops, missing livestock, and bouts of ill fortune. It is said that the witch is monstrous, raised by wolves and lies with them, too, an enemy of all that is holy. But when the affliction struck, not a single villager placed the blame on the witch. And when Midoriya Izuku spoke of her, he did so without fear.

He bade Spinner follow him, running across the bridge over the stream and down the sole path into the northern woods, and although Spinner questions the wisdom of challenging a mundane evil with a supernatural one, he has no other choice. He swore to protect Shigaraki, just as the others did, but he’s the one who failed. The witch will drive a hard bargain for her help, and Spinner will take it. What happens to Spinner doesn’t matter. Better by far that Shigaraki survives.

Not far now, Midoriya said, but each twist and turn in the path reveals only further twist and turns ahead. When Midoriya stops again to catch his breath, Spinner’s patience snaps. “There is no time. We must hurry.”

“The ground froze hard these past nights,” Midoriya gasps, “and they buried him deep. We have time. After this I will not need to stop again.”

“You had better not, or I will leave you here and find the witch myself.” Spinner says that, only to feel his nerves turn to water at the thought. “How do you know she will help?”

“I don’t know what she can do,” Midoriya says, and Spinner’s heart sinks further. “But I know that when the priest ordered me to kill a wolf-dog pup from my dog’s last litter, she came down from the woods to take it away.”

He straightens and picks up the pace, and Spinner chases after him, questions upon questions queued up on the tip of his tongue. “You’ve seen her?”

“Not – not really,” Midoriya admits as they careen around a corner. “She wore a veil over her face, and dressed all in white. But her voice sounded ordinary. Not as a monster’s voice should, or I think not. If she is not one, I have never heard a monster speak.”

Spinner has. It’s unmistakable – not just a hearing or a feeling, but a knowing, a terror beyond thought and reason. “I had to cross the bridge to bring her the pup,” Midoriya continues. “She would not cross to me, but when I gave it to her, she promised to raise it well.”

Spinner knew Midoriya was naïve, but this is ridiculous. “Did it not occur to you that she would lie? Monsters know only how to deceive.”

“She didn’t lie,” Midoriya says sharply. “I know when someone lies to me. She wouldn’t have hurt my pup. She –”

He stops talking, and stops running, too. Spinner fails to stop in time and bowls him over from the back, and as he picks himself up, he sees what caused Midoriya to balk. The path continues still further into the woods. But a wolf sits sentinel in the middle of it, blocking the way.

No, not a wolf. Spinner has seen wolves, more than his share of them, far more than he would have wished to. This is – “A wolf-dog?”

“Yes,” Midoriya says, his voice trembling with something like awe. “Mine.”

The wolf-dog’s ears prick upwards, and its tufted tail wags, scattering long-dead leaves away from the path. All at once it rises to its feet, turns, and lopes away, but only as far as the next bend in the path. There it turns and looks at them. Waits for them. “She wants us to follow,” Midoriya says, and he does so. Spinner follows, too, wondering who exactly Midoriya meant by she.

The wolf-dog keeps a brisk pace as the path, lined on either side with thick brambles, narrows such that Spinner and Midoriya must walk single-file. There are strange lights tucked away within them, emitting a pink glow that Spinner can classify neither as unholy nor divine. The wolf-dog rounds one turn in the path after another, and only when Spinner has thoroughly lost his sense of direction does it come to a stop. They’ve stopped at the edge of a large clearing, ringed in yet more of the odd pink lights. Within the clearing, there is a fence, its posts laden with wildflowers — the same flowers that climb the walls of the small cottage in the center.

It looks like something out of a children’s story. Not at all somewhere that a witch with the power to challenge the priest should live. Midoriya starts forward eagerly, and Spinner seizes his arm. “No. Even sweet things can be a trap.”

The wolf-dog noses the iron gate, and it swings open. “You want to save your friend, don’t you?” Midoriya asks. “She’s the only one who can help you. And you were wrong. She didn’t hurt my dog.”

Spinner is not at all convinced that it’s the same dog. It seems more likely the product of Midoriya’s wishful thinking. “I don’t like your friend,” Midoriya continues. “He frightens me, and everyone else. But he shouldn’t die for our fear. If you won’t go in, I will.”

Spinner is a coward. He knows he is. But even in his cowardice, he cannot allow this — a child taking the risk that belongs to him. He lets go of Midoriya’s arm and shoulders past him, past the wolf-dog, through the iron gate and along the path through the witch’s garden to the cottage’s front door. He knocks hard enough to bruise his knuckles. “Witch! I am here on a matter most urgent. Come out, or –”

“There’s no need to shout,” a perfectly ordinary voice says from behind him, and Spinner’s heart nearly stops in his chest. “I’m right here.”

Spinner wheels around, and there you are. There you have been sitting the entire time, concealed from view of the path behind your flower-entangled fence, dressed all in white just as Midoriya described and blending in with the snow. Just as Midoriya described, your face is veiled. All around you in the snow, wolf-dogs sit and sprawl, some ancient and grey-muzzled, others with the gangly clumsiness of pups. White roses are scattered around you, and even as you harken to Spinner, your fingers continue to weave them deftly into a crown.

“I thought I might have visitors today,” you say. “What are your names?”

“I don’t share my name with strangers,” Spinner growls, in the same moment as Midoriya blurts his out. “Shut up, you idiot!”

“The point of sharing names is to remove the designation of strangers,” you say mildly. Your veil is not quite opaque; Spinner sees your lips move beneath it. “I cannot blame you for your caution, but you mentioned an urgent matter. What brings you to my door?”

“The village,” Spinner says, biting down on the desire to curse its name. “It has been struck by –”

He runs out of words. He and the others have been careful in their description of it, for fear of being called insane. Even a village with such superstitions as witches is too skeptical to believe in – “Vampires,” Midoriya announces. He’s apparently abandoned caution; he’s crouched in the snow at the edge of the path, petting the wolf-dog he believes was his. “Each night more wake with bites, and not long after they fall desperately ill.”

“Are they drained of blood?” you ask. “Or is their skin simply rotting?”

“They haven’t been drained,” Midoriya says, frowning. “But the bites –”

“My friend was drained,” Spinner says, and you look to him. “He grew weak. He could not eat or drink, and visions tormented him at the end — or what we thought was the end –”

“They buried him,” you say, and Spinner nods. “But people continue to fall sick, and they believe your friend is the cause, so they intend to exhume him and put an end to him properly this time. Am I incorrect?”

Spinner can barely believe his ears. “How do you know?”

“Fear strips away reason. It comforts them to think that killing your friend will end their misery, and their desire for comfort only serves the greater threat.” Your hands work more quickly, plaiting the crown together. “You’ve come to me for help. What is it you wish me to do?”

“Stop the priest,” Spinner says. You tilt your head, studying him. “Prove my friend’s innocence.”

“That is within my power,” you say. You add a few more flowers to the crown, set it upon your head, and rise to your feet. “Is there time?”

“When we left they had already started digging,” Spinner says uselessly. “What price do you ask for your help?”

“None,” you say. You brush past Spinner, slipping into the house and emerging seconds later with a small satchel slung across your body. White deerskin with silver fastenings — not at all what Spinner would expect a forest-dwelling witch to possess. “We must travel with haste.”

“Yes. Have you horses?”

You shake your head, then raise one hand to your mouth and whistle, high and wavering. Within moments, Spinner hears the sound of heavy footfalls, and the shape that moves within the trees is so monstrously large that even Midoriya is scared up from the ground and closer to Spinner. “What is that thing?”

A wolf. Not a wolf-dog, but a true wolf, hulking and enormous, standing taller than Spinner at the shoulder. It dwarfs you as you approach it, but you approach without fear, and it lowers itself to the ground so you can speak quietly in its ear. You use no language Spinner can understand, but it is not the language of the demon, and in your ordinary voice it does little more than raise the hairs on the back of his neck. “This is a friend of mine, who has agreed to aid us,” you say, straightening up. You throw one leg over the wolf’s back and climb up, seating yourself just behind its head. “If time is as short as you say, it is not wise to hesitate.”

Spinner climbs up first, followed by Midoriya. “Keep low until we leave the trees behind,” you order, “and hang on.”

Midoriya promptly grabs hold of Spinner, but Spinner has no easy recourse. “To you? It’s not proper.”

“Would you rather be proper or survive the journey back to the village?” you ask impatiently, and Spinner secures his arms around your waist, his face miserably red. “Hold on.”

You whisper something else to the wolf, and it lurches into motion with such violence that Spinner tightens his grip in terror. He learns instantly why you ordered them to lower their heads — at the speed at which the wolf moves, a collision of their heads with a branch would result in decapitation. Spinner can’t watch the trees speeding past without feeling ill, so he shuts his eyes only to feel sicker. Opening them, keeping them fixed between your shoulder blades, is the only solution. That, and occupying his mind with something other than how inappropriate it is to hold you this closely.

You feel human. Spinner’s taken women in his arms before, human women of his own will and vampire women against it, and while the unholy attraction of the undead is absent from you, there is something undefinably strange about your presence. Perhaps all witches are thus. You have yet to do anything more witchlike than speak to wolves and live deep in the woods, and once again, Spinner begins to doubt. Who are you to challenge the priest, to counter the village’s faith in him? How could you save Shigaraki, when Dabi and Twice and Toga could not?

The wolf breaks through the tree line, and you sit up quickly. Spinner does the same, although it makes the ride significantly bumpier. Out of the woods, it’s easier to gauge the wolf’s true speed. It barrels down the hillside, as fast as any horse, and ignores the bridge in favor of leaping across the stream in a single bound. At the apex of its flight, Spinner feels you startle, then flinch, a sharp gasp exiting your lips. It’s as if you’ve been shot or stabbed, and for a moment, you go completely limp, your grip on the wolf’s mane relaxing. Only Spinner’s arms around you keep you from slipping sideways into the water – but then the wolf’s paws touch land, and you straighten up again. Spinner would think it his imagination if not for the audible catch in your breathing.

When the wolf reaches the graveyard, Spinner’s own breath catches in horror: Shigaraki’s coffin has been raised up from the earth, its lock shattered and its lid shoved aside. Between the coffin and the priest stand Toga and Dabi and Twice, and before Spinner can call out to tell them help has arrived, villagers seize his friends and drag them out of the way. The priest approaches, stake held high, and a shaking hand rises from the coffin in a weak attempt to forestall him. Shigaraki is alive, and awake – awake just in time for Spinner to watch him die.

“Wait,” he tries to call, but his voice shakes so badly that he can barely raise it above a whisper. “He isn’t –”

“Father Torino!” you call out, your voice strident and strong, and the priest stops in his tracks. He turns towards the sound of your voice and flinches as he beholds the wolf, and you and Spinner and Midoriya on its back. The villagers cower, and Dabi and the others seize the opportunity to get free and return to guard the casket — but they, too look wary. “Is it now the custom of the Church to murder innocent men by hand after burying them alive has failed to do the job?”

“This is no man, but an abomination,” the priest growls. He is a small man, and old, but neither matters when righteous fury animates him. “It is the custom of the Church to carry out God’s will and remove such things from the face of His earth.”

“If this man’s death is God’s will and not your own, then it can wait a few moments more.” You slide down easily from the wolf’s back and start forward across the graveyard, the villagers scattering from your path. “I will examine him, and prove his innocence or his guilt.”

The priest does not challenge your ability to do so, and a small measure of hope is turned loose in Spinner’s mind. He slides down from the wolf’s back as well, much less gracefully than you did, and seizes the back of Midoriya’s coat to prevent him from going face-first into the snow when he does the same. Ahead of him, you confront Dabi. “Stand aside. Let me see him.”

“What, so you can kill him?”

“Do you see a stake in my hands?” You spread them out, revealing them empty. Spinner notices for the first time the silver rings on your middle fingers, and the web of silver chains extending from them to connect to a matching bracelet around your wrist. “I only wish to examine him.”

“She can help,” Midoriya says, and Dabi’s eyes flicker to him. “Let her help.”

Dabi looks to Spinner. Spinner nods, and Dabi stands aside, allowing you to approach the coffin.

Spinner does the same, and what he sees fills him with a guilt so powerful that it nearly strikes him dead on the spot. As terrible as Shigaraki looked when they believed him dead, he looks worse now. Paler, sicker, more haunted than before. Blood stains his fingernails — what’s left of them, at least. Spinner imagines his best friend clawing at the lid of the iron coffin, desperate to get free, and nearly vomits at the thought.

Shigaraki is barely conscious, barely breathing, as you come close. Spinner was unsure of what to expect from you, but your first act strikes him as completely incongruous — you lift the crown of white roses from your head and settle it on Shigaraki’s. Shigaraki doesn’t stir, and on the other side of the coffin, the priest’s shoulders stiffen. “That proves nothing.”

“White roses are anathema to vampires. They teach you that in your book of demons,” you say. You unclasp one bracelet from around your wrist, slide one ring from your finger. “They speak of silver, too.”

You lift Shigaraki’s hand and slide the ring onto his finger. His hands are larger than yours, yet so skeletal that the ring fits easily. As does the bracelet, when you snap it shut. Once again, Shigaraki does not stir. The priest scoffs. “You expect me to believe that’s real silver?”

“I expect you to ask yourself what reason I among all others would have to collude with this affliction,” you say. You of all others? Spinner sees his confusion writ large on Toga’s face, on Dabi’s and on Twice’s. “But if it will satisfy you, I will ask someone else. Who here has something silver?”

It’s silent. Midoriya disappears into the crowd, then comes back pulling his mother. “Mother. Mother, show her — you have some –”

The woman clutches at her necklace, as though she expects you to rip it from her throat. “You will have it back unharmed,” you promise in that ordinary voice. Spinner no longer doubts that you are no monster; rather, you seem so human that he doubts your ability to help at all. “Either you will help to protect your village from a grave threat, or you will save an innocent man’s life. To save one life is to save the world entire.”

“Cease such pagan nonsense in my presence,” the priest snaps. “Even if he is no vampire, he has forfeited his right to life by bringing the affliction upon our village.”

You ignore him, and after a moment, so does Midoriya’s mother. She unclasps her necklace, and Midoriya places it in your hand. You hold it for a moment, then set it down in the hollow of Shigaraki’s throat. He does not move beyond the rise and fall of his chest. “Odd,” you remark. “A vampire should flinch from such things.”

The priest doesn’t answer. You gesture for Spinner to come closer, to stand alongside Dabi and the others. “Bite marks,” you say, and Spinner startles along with the rest of them. “Where were they?”

“He had many,” Toga says. She tended to Shigaraki most closely, and took his apparent death nearly as hard as Spinner did. “On his throat. His chest. Both wrists and ankles.”

“Were there others?” you ask. Toga shakes her head, and you raise your voice, addressing the crowd in the graveyard. “In the legends, a true vampire’s body bears no bite marks. The transformation erases them. Is it not so?”

The crowd mumbles assent, and Spinner wonders if this is why Midoriya insisted on summoning you. The priest’s frothing rage looks particularly mad when contrasted to your calmness. You look to the priest next. “Is it not so, Father Torino?”

“In tales and in history.” The priest speaks through gritted teeth. “Let us examine him. I — what are you doing?”

“My eyes must be clear,” you say, and you lift your veil.

Half the village recoils, but when you fold it back, Spinner sees nothing out of the ordinary about your face. There is no mad light in your eyes, no distorted sneer on your mouth, no dark magic writhing visibly beneath your skin. There is an odd pallor to you, but nothing more. You turn back to face the priest — the priest, who did not flinch. “Let us examine him.”

Shigaraki does not react to your touch, but when the priest reaches in to grasp his arm and haul his wrist into the light, he shrinks back. “You see?” the priest demands. “He recoils from a man of God –”

“A man who was about to drive a stake through his heart. I’d recoil, too.” You have Shigaraki’s other hand, holding it carefully, and you turn it to expose his wrist to the light. “Look, Father. Those resemble bite marks to me. And here –”

You lift the wrist that Shigaraki pulled away from the priest. “More bite marks. Just as the maiden said.”

Shigaraki’s mouth opens, and the voice that issues from it is hoarse from three days of screaming. “Spinner –”

Spinner hurries forward, and without a word, you shift your examinations to Shigaraki’s ankles. “I’m here,” Spinner tells Shigaraki. “I’m sorry.”

Shigaraki shakes his head. “What’s — happening?”

“Midoriya took me to see the witch. She came back with us to help.”

“Witch?” Shigaraki rasps. “Doesn’t sound like a witch.”

“Her voice is wrong,” Toga agrees quietly. “I don’t know what she is.”

“You do not need to know. She is unclean, and those who fear God should stay far from her and her accursed woods,” the priest says. “And you, Shigaraki — you fear death a great deal for a man who does not fear God.”

Shigaraki’s red eyes flutter shut. He seems to have exhausted his strength, and Spinner finds himself watching the rise and fall of Shigaraki’s chest, fixated on the smallest motions. He kept this same vigil before, three nights ago, dreading every new second until the motion stuttered and stopped — or rather continued, so imperceptibly that everyone believed him dead. Whether you’re a witch or not, you are an effective counter to the priest, but what happens after you spare Shigaraki’s life? His affliction will not fade, and the evil that stalks him will not relent. Has Spinner saved Shigaraki’s life only to consign him to a slow, agonizing death?

Spinner’s thoughts are interrupted when your hand appears in his field of vision, parting the buttons on Shigaraki’s shirt to expose the bite marks directly over his heart. The priest grasps Shigaraki’s jaw and turns his head roughly to one side, revealing the bite marks on his throat as well.

Spinner remembers the first time he beheld the evidence of Shigaraki’s affliction. Shigaraki had kept it from them as long as possible, but one by one, they saw things that could not be explained, heard things in the night that could not be dismissed. They knew too much to find safety in ignorance, but they could not protect themselves if they did not know the truth, and so Shigaraki shared what he knew of the evil that had clung to him since childhood. They doubted him at first, but he must have expected it. Spinner will never forget the shiver of disgust that tore through him at the sight of the marks on Shigaraki’s throat – and how it grew ever worse with each set of marks he revealed.

The reminder alone of what Shigaraki suffers fills Spinner with disgust. He cannot imagine experiencing it and surviving with his mind intact, and yet Shigaraki has survived. And he will survive this, too. Faced with all the evidence you have revealed, the priest cannot kill Shigaraki now.

“Are you satisfied?” you ask, when the priest fails to respond. “This man is not the source of the affliction. He is its victim, as much as any of the others who have fallen ill.”

“Perhaps,” the priest says – and he raises his stake. “I’d rather be sure.”

Before he can bring it down, you seize it. Dabi does the same, and so does Spinner, while Toga and Twice throw themselves across the coffin to shield Shigaraki. “Careful,” you say to the priest. Your grip tightens, and Spinner feels the fire-hardened stake buckle slightly. “If you kill this man now, it will be murder, and your list of sins is not so short as to allow for the addition of one more.”

It’s a long moment before the priest releases the stake, and when he does, it splinters to pieces. Perhaps it was Dabi’s grip that shattered it; your hand is too small. “If you wish to save him, begone with him,” the priest says. “He is barred from the village until his affliction is cured. If it can be cured.”

Spinner’s heart sinks, but once again, you remain calm. “I will cure it,” you say. “I will take him with me, if he will go.”

“No,” Twice says at once. “He stays with us.”

“Let her take him,” Midoriya’s mother urges. Spinner thought she would have fled, but then again, her silver necklace still rests against Shigaraki’s throat. “The others will come for him tonight, and kill you to get to him, no matter what the priest says. It is safer to let him go.”

“We should come with him,” Toga says. You shake your head. “Why not?”

“The forest is unkind at night. I cannot shield your minds and heal his at the same time.” You look regretful, and ill at ease. “Stay here for the night, and visit in the morning. My friends will guide you to me.”

The wolves and wolf-dogs. Spinner remembers the rumor that you were raised by them, that you lay with them, and feels a surge of distaste — not for you, but for those who would start such rumors and spread them. “It’s Shigaraki’s choice,” he says. He looks down into the coffin at Shigaraki, at his pale face and bloody hands, swathed in silver with a crown of flowers on his head. “Do you wish to go with her?”

“Spinner.” Shigaraki’s voice is little more than a whisper. Spinner leans close. “Can she do as she promises?”

There seems to be nothing magical about you at all. Spinner doubts you can do anything — but he does not doubt that Shigaraki will be safer in the heart of the forest tonight than anywhere else. He nods. “I can’t face him tonight. Not like this,” Shigaraki says. “I’ll go.”

“Good,” the priest says. His disgust is etched deeply into his wrinkled face, and as he transfers his gaze from Shigaraki to you, it only grows. “As the filthy beast you rode in on has fled, I have no idea how you expect to remove him from my sight. Do you honestly think someone will lend you a horse?”

“I have no need of one.” You nudge Spinner to one side and lift the necklace up from Shigaraki’s throat, handing it back to Midoriya’s mother. Then you lift one of Shigaraki’s arms, looping it around your neck, and he expends what appears to be his last measure of strength to lift up the other. “I can walk.”

You can’t mean to carry him. Even half dead, half-starved, Shigaraki is bigger than you are. But as Spinner watches in horrified fascination, you slide one hand behind his best friend’s head and the other beneath his bent knees, and you lift Shigaraki from the coffin as though he weighs nothing at all.

Shigaraki slumps against your shoulder, barely conscious once more, and the crowd of villagers parts before you again. Your voice, still ordinary, carries not even a hint of strain when you speak to Spinner. “Come visit at first light,” you say. “No harm will come to him while he is with me.”

Dabi’s hand comes down on your shoulder, just as Toga grasps your elbow. “Swear it.”

You incline your head, and Spinner sees a web of faint scars across your brow. “I swear it by my blood.”

You set off walking at an easy pace, as though you aren’t carrying a grown man in your arms the way a lord might carry a maiden. Dabi’s voice is low in Spinner’s ear. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“Her kind don’t do favors,” Twice says. “What did you give her?”

“Nothing,” Spinner says. “She took nothing.”

“Except Tomura,” Toga says grimly. “In the morning we’ll take him back.”

“Damn right,” Twice says, ignoring the look the priest gives him. “We’ve tried everything but witches to heal him. Maybe she will fix him.”

“What’s wrong with him isn’t inside. It’s out there somewhere,” Dabi says. “Whatever she fixes, it won’t last.”

Dabi’s right, as much as it burns Spinner to admit it. All Spinner’s done in retrieving the witch is buy Shigaraki a little more time. One night where the villagers can’t come for him, howling for his blood the same way the evil that stalks him lusts for it. Spinner’s best friend has spent so many nights in misery and pain. If the best Spinner can do is secure for Shigaraki one night of relative peace, he’d have paid all you asked for and more.

But you asked for nothing. Spinner watches you approach the bridge, still walking smoothly with Shigaraki cradled in your arms, and wonders why.

014. CARNATIONS

You're sulking, limbs splayed over the couch as you resort to eating nothing but ice cream, all while wrapped in bundles of blankets and pillows. You stab at the container angrily, practically shoveling the copious amounts of 'Fudge Fantasy!' into your mouth like you were being starved.

A pout forms on your lips, and your appetite vanishes the moment you watch the pining lovers on your TV screen kiss—a feeling of hurt forms in your stomach as you turn off the movie. You wince as you pry yourself from the couch, muscles aching from being curled up into a pitiful ball for too long.

You walk over to the kitchen, putting the ice cream away in the freezer and sitting down on one of the kitchen's chairs. Most of the lights in your apartment were off, and only a small and warm glow came from the lamp beside your couch. You press your cheek against the cold surface of the island, sighing.

Your lips quirk up a bit as you take in the state of your living room. You'd carried most of your plushies from your room to the living room for a movie night—and maybe for some emotional support. You'd even built a little blanket fort for yourself. Yes, it was childish. But it got your mind off of Touya for a while.

Your feet curl uncomfortably at the mere thought of him as a frown suddenly settles on your face, and you can only sink further into your seat with a groan. You've been moping around for the past three days, ordering groceries to your door and not leaving your apartment for anything at all.

You were unemployed now. Thankfully, your savings account could keep you comfortably afloat for a while. But that money wouldn't last forever—and job searching would have to start up at some point.

But right now, you can't even find the strength to reply to your supervisor's emails. She needs you to come back to the hospital, since there were a few more things that needed to be finalized. A few more loose ends that need to be tied and put aside to collect dust.

Something soft nudges your cheek, and Tora stands over you with a curious glint in his eyes. The cat nudges his nose against yours before settling down onto the island counter beside you, curling up onto the table and purring quietly as he lays on his stomach.

Tora had an odd sense of noticing when you were unhappy. He was an attentive little cat, with dark fur and a glittering pair of golden eyes. You run a palm over his back carefully, smiling as he eases under your touch.

You eventually hop off of the chair and walk around your apartment in deep thought. The movement was necessary to give your muscles some breathing room, and it also gave you a chance to try and accept all that had happened in the past few days. Tora trailed behind you, following you around like a shadow with quick and curious steps.

It was hard trying to make sense of all that had happened. The thought of Touya getting a new doctor, one that would help him complete the last bit of his journey at the hospital, was just something you couldn't really believe yet.

There would be someone else spending their days with him. Someone else taking care of him, someone else listening to his late night thoughts, someone else sharing his favorite meals with him—someone else loving him. And there's a voice in the back of your head, screaming that should be you. But you know it was your own choices that made it someone else’s role now.

You settle back into your heap of blankets on the couch, and Tora follows. There's a sense of trepidation creeping up your spine—a small, prickling fear that felt like a hundred needles prodding and poking at your skin. It didn't feel right, not being by Touya's side as he went through the last few months of his recovery.

He was nearly done with all of his surgeries. You wouldn't be able to see him again until his rehabilitation plan was over. Any contact with him was forbidden. The reality of his obvious attachment issues was heart breaking, and the look on his face when you left him hadn't left your mind since you'd seen it.

There was something devastating about the way his voice hitched when he pleaded for you to stay with him—about that way his fingers trembled as he held his head in his hands and fought his own mind to keep himself together, unable to accept the fact that good things can't last forever—they never did for him, anyway.

You didn't even realize you were crying until Tora meowed quietly, pawing at your chest as his little head poked underneath the hem of your shirt. He performs his favorite ritual—one he knows always makes you laugh—as he crawled up your shirt and poked his head out of the loose opening of your shirt. You peer down at your cuddly companion, managing a tearful laugh as you tug him out.

It was snowing again, and your laptop dings quietly with yet another email. The apartment is quiet, beside the soft sound of your labored breathing. Tora's eyes drifted close eventually, and you allowed him to sleep as you quietly walked towards your laptop.

Fourteen unread emails. You decide to open the most recent one—because the title 'Touya's new psychiatrist' catches your attention wholly within an instant.

You read over the email quietly, soft sounds of disappointment and sighs leaving your lips every few minutes. It's near the bottom of the email when you realize you had a meeting scheduled tomorrow at the hospital.

You had to be the one to chose Touya's new psychiatrist. No one understood Touya's psyche better than you, you'd been with him for many months and understood his mentality better than everyone. In order for him to get a new doctor according to procedure, you would need to be a part of the decision making process.

But you didn't want Touya to get a new doctor. Maybe it was selfish, but you just wanted to take care of him all by yourself.

Finding someone deserving enough of taking care of him would be a tedious task. Touya needed someone loving, someone who could take care of him, and someone who wouldn't let him down. Your back straightens a bit in determination. You had let Touya down once, but you were not going to do it again.

You were going to find a good doctor for him. No matter how many people you had to go through, how long it took—even if you had to call in options from neighboring hospitals—you would not allow just anyone to take care of him.

Touya deserved someone good. He deserved you, yes. But he couldn't have you.

You would just have to find the next best thing.

Walking into your former work place after being fired wasn't a pleasant feeling. The stares you received were obvious, and they were all from people you used to work with. Your eyes remain on the ground in silent shame, and it felt like you had a rain cloud hanging over your head with every step you took.

"Y/n," Your supervisor calls out, and your back tenses before you turn around to meet her gaze. Her eyes are a bit tired as she greets you, and you follow her quietly as she leads you into her office. The first candidate sits in a seat across her desk. She ushers you into the room, gently chastising you for being late.

And you want to tell her you'd actually gotten to the hospital early, but you'd caught sight of Touya's hospital room window from the parking lot and noticed someone had taken down the snowflakes that once hung on the glass. You'd wasted half an hour in your car crying—because Touya was so close, only a few floors up, and the thought has your heart seizing painfully in your chest.

You sit across the doctor, and it begins. You interviewed three women and five men today. And every single one you'd crossed off as unsuitable on your papers.

They were all biased. Each and every single one had the same look in their eye when you mentioned the name Dabi. This look of distaste, this look of disgust. Their words came out sugary and sweet, reverent, even. But their eyes betrayed their true feelings. And you can't blame them, because Touya was known throughout all of Japan as a monster.

Day after day, the cycle became tiring. Doctor after doctor, you can't do it. The stress was eating away at you, your savings account was dwindling away, and you still haven't built up the courage to face the Todoroki family.

It was on the seventh day of searching that your supervisor seemed fed up.

"You cannot reject every single doctor that comes in here, Y/n."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat as you sigh, unsure of how to respond. If she notices the bags under your eyes, or how your shoulders slump with tiredness, she doesn't say anything.

"Touya deserves someone who sees his mistakes and understands his past. Someone kind and forgiving." You murmur, tugging your knees to your chest as you sigh quietly, tracing circles on the arm rest of your chair as your supervisor's lips set into a thin line.

She's silent for a moment, watching you contemplatively before speaking up.

"Rei Todoroki contacted me yesterday. A while after you left, she said she...she has someone who she believes can help Touya."

Your hand stills at the mention of Rei's name. You swallow down the hurt expanding in your chest—snuffing it out for the sake of Touya as you nod slowly, eyes dull and voice exhausted.

"Who is it? And—can I meet them?"

"You can. I've already contacted her for a meeting I've arranged for tomorrow. But I'm afraid if you don't agree with Rei's suggestion—then the board will choose a doctor for Touya instead."

You can feel the incoming headache, a result of keeping your tears at bay and refusing to let them flow. Your nod is stiff, and you decide you'll sleep early tonight. You need a clear mind to meet your seemingly last option tomorrow. Because if this doctor wasn't a good option for Touya—

You crush the thought in an instant. She had to be. If Rei recommended her, then you should be able to trust this woman.

So why do you feel so uneasy?

"Y/n," Your supervisor says calmly, placing a hand on your shoulder as you turn to look at her. She seemed to be at ease, for some reason. Like she trusted Rei's judgement and supported her choice already. And you want to ask her just how she trusts someone she hasn't even met yet with Touya's heart and fragile state, but her next words explain it all.

"It's the same woman who treated Rei. The same woman who took care of her when she was admitted."

The shift in your express is palpable. You obviously weren't aware that Rei had been admitted into a hospital herself. But your hand curls into a fist of disappointment, not exactly surprised that Enji's abuse managed to damage her mental health too. He had certainly done a good job of hiding the truth of his family all those years he spent in the spotlight, and the thought makes you grind your teeth in frustration.

"I see."

Your supervisor's nod is curt and final, pleased that you've agreed to this one thing. You leave the hospital with a heavy heart, spent and tired. You're not even sure how you managed to drive home, but you stumble into your apartment, not bothering to change as you collapse onto your bed with nothing but sheer exhaustion.

You'd woken up nearly three times that night, struggling to fall back asleep. You ended up on the floor at some point too, trying to find a reprieve while tossing and turning, wondering why sleep wouldn't envelop you in her blissful embrace.

In sleep, maybe you could escape your reality. In sleep, maybe you could avoid Touya. But he followed you, trailed you and refused to disappear. He showed up in your dreams, he showed up in your thoughts during the most mundane tasks, and you nearly dropped your breakfast bowl this morning because your plants casted a shadow on the wall that looked like his silhouette.

Touya was haunting you.

And you don't even want to think of his state back at the hospital, you won't allow yourself to. You spend the morning cleaning your entire apartment, and slotting some time in the day to look for some jobs online before you head to the hospital in the evening for your meeting.

Tora doesn't mind your clinginess. He lets you cuddle him and smother him in kisses, even though he was usually grumpy and opposed to too much affection. He indulged in you today, and that cheered you up a bit.

Currently, you're sitting on your couch and sipping on a warm cup of hot chocolate. The snow falls quietly outside, and with Tora curled up in your lap—you scroll through the various job listings online.

With your education, you could find a good job. You weren't going to try and apply to be a psychiatrist due to obvious reasons, but maybe you could try something new. It was a shot in the dark, but it was something.

Your doorbell rings, and the sound ricochets off the walls as you sit up. Tora hops off of your lap, meowing loudly in protest at the intrusion before he scurries off. You shake your head with a soft smile at his antics, before walking towards the door.

You're not sure who's on the other side. It could be the groceries you ordered, or maybe Tora's new toys—so you get on your tippy toes, All Might socks stretched taut from the action as you peek through the peephole.

You stagger backwards at the sight on the other side, physically feeling all the air be strung out of your lungs in an instant. Your hands are clammy as you carefully step away from the door. You don't know what he is doing here, but you open the door after another second—eyes hard and angry.

Enji Todoroki stands on the other side. Something flashes on his face with how quickly you open the door and the look on your face, but he bows his head immediately in greeting either way. There's a bouquet of flowers in his hands, and he holds them in a death grip, knuckles paling.

"Y/n, may I come in?" He questions, voice low and—was that guilt in his tone? You waver in the doorway, unsure. Your eyes are unblinking as you watch him keep his head down, waiting for your answer.

He hurt Touya, he hurt Rei, he hurt Natsuo, he hurt Fuyumi, he hurt Shoto, and he hurt you.

Enji can sense your hesitation and he sighs, nodding in understanding as his grip tightens on the bouquet. You watch the flower stems bend, nearly snapping as he squeezes his eyes shut in frustration.

You're too afraid to move. His body is tense, every muscle is. You're half afraid he's about to hit you and half afraid he was about to burst into tears.

"I'm sorry,"

"I understand I'm not wanted. I've left Rei and the children the house, I pay for it so they can all live comfortably together. I've accepted their disapproval—I understand it. But I need to mend my relationship with Touya. He's—He's the only thing keeping me going right now. I just want him to go home, and I can't leave him anymore. I can't."

Enji rests his head on the door frame, his grip on the flowers limp now. There's a soft purr sounding through the air, and he furrows his brows before glancing down and seeing your cat poking out between your legs—he notices your All Might socks, too.

He sighs, pushing himself off of the door frame when you don't say anything. He takes a step back, before he finally notices you've been holding the door wide open and were waiting for him to step inside the entire time.

"I have a few things I need to talk to you about. You can leave after, okay?"

Enji blinks in disbelief before nodding with a small grunt. He enters your apartment, shoulders sagging as his gaze flitters around. You wonder if it's because he thinks your living space is small—but brush off the prospect. That's not important right now. You needed to get some clear points about Touya across—this was your chance to help Touya, even if it was indirectly. He gives you the flowers, wincing as he realizes he was holding onto them a little too tightly. Your small smile eases some of his embarrassment, and you lead him to the living room shortly after.

It took Enji a long time to open up—the shell he had over himself was unbreakable, but you managed to get inside. Putting aside your patients' past and mistakes was something you were used to doing by now, but it was still difficult to talk to Enji after all he'd done.

When Enji spoke about Touya, he was more soft spoken. The usual bite in his tone vanished, like the sun disappearing on a cloudy day. You try to muster up the strength to be angry at him—to kick him out and slap him and tell him you never want to see his face again. But you can't, because when Enji looks at you—you see Touya's eyes.

He leaves after a few hours. It felt like the world stopped when he'd stepped into your home, and started all over again as he left. His posture was more relaxed as he muttered a quiet goodbye, and left.

Your conversation with Enji was... eye opening. Getting a glimpse into his mind was overwhelming, but at least now you managed to see his tainted view a little clearer. You sigh as you turn to look at the darkening sky outside, the stars twinkled in the dim light and you stand up, stretching a bit before your eyes catch sight of your laptop.

Shit. You'd missed today's meeting.

You're calling your supervisor moments later—apologizing profusely the moment she picks up for forgetting, begging to reschedule, and stuttering because you're strained and stressed and struggling terribly to form a single, coherent sentence.

"It's okay, Y/n. I took the meeting myself, okay? She's a good fit for Touya. You should...get some rest. Please."

She hangs up after that, and you lower the phone from your ear slowly. You can feel the lump in your throat forming, the burn behind your eyes intensifying as you take a steadying breath.

You try to use your breathing practices—but you can't remember them, dammit. Did you hold your breath for five seconds or ten? Were you supposed to be counting your heart beats for this exercise? Or was that for another one?

You're too tired to cry. Too tired to try and make sense of everything around you when it was anything but. It was complete discord everywhere you turned—everything was wrong. So very wrong.

There's nothing you can do but sleep. You stagger over to your bed, the blood in your body felt like it had been replaced with sand, weighing you down with every step you took. You slip into unconsciousness the moment your head hits the pillow.

But you just dream of him, again. You always do.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; touya meets his new doctor next chapter :) also, y/n wearing all might socks in front of enji is how she rebels :P

tags!

@kawaiidemoneart @porusuniverse @starrmage @lilbeatlebear @bokukenmakuroo

@summercreolefanfictioner @dija200 @phtmmsqrde @sunaraii

@c-lunette @gh0stgirl333 @skullkittens @gurl-pls-evn-the-sharks-fear-me

@hawkwithsocks @suresnips @sugurusmoon @matchablossomsss @moonlitmorganite

@redr0sewrites @muimuiwisteria @sukunaspillow @starsryi

@eidolonwriter @dabislittlemouse @rueclfer @kelin-is-writing

@shugs1801 @imaginationmess

@lasa27 @sophiathefrog @etaerealboy @kooromin @sourbbyxo

@hvnares @ephmeraloblivion @lost-seraphiim @quokka-ina @jesuschrist2006

@stoned-anime-babe @qatiee @shadowsingers-redhood @alycat171

@21-princess

@xileonaaaa @rylerboi @blurryperrtymoonlight @mrcleans4headwrinkle @accidentpronedork

@exquisitenesss @miniatureempathknightpony @afterlife11

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myher0myher0

3 months ago

Volume 31 - extra

906 notes View Post

myher0myher0

3 months ago

Leather and Lace

BikerBakugou x Ballet instructor

(All photos are from Pinterest)

Part 2

(LONG BLURB because writing is my therapy)

Flashing lights and a foggy entertaining way greeted you as your best friend pulled you into the Fraternity house that resembled a castle made of pure quarts. The tall pillars and arched windows were enough tell that the guys who lived here would be more than supplied for the party, and that made you nervous. Mina loved to drink, and you’d taken the train here, promising each other you’d remain at least mostly sober.

“Pinky!” A black haired man exclaims as the large oak door closes shut behind you. Mina’s hand that held yours drops as she wraps the mystery stranger in a friendly hug. “You fulfilled my request to bring a cute friend.”

It wasn’t what he had said that made you uncomfortable, but the way the man’s eyes trailed from your head to your toes with a satisfied grin. You were used to men checking you out, even more so when you had the people magnet Mina with you, but this was different. It made your skin crawl and the hair in the back of your neck stand straight up. This man was a creep, he didn’t even need to speak to you for you to put that together.

“Oh, shush!” Mina’s soft voice laughs, her arm reaching back to link through yours as if to reassure you he was no harm. “She isn’t interested, and you aren’t single.”

“So- who was that?” You question once she’s successfully pulled you through the crowded foyer and into the very modern and very large kitchen. “Who lives here? The president?!”

“It’s the sports house, I think like 30 guys live here.” Her casual explanation didn’t exactly answer your question but you didn’t care too much to pry further. “Oh, by the way- Kiri!”

Your head turns to the doorway that had caught her attention and your face drains of color as you notice the pair walking toward you. You didn’t recognize the red haired man who’d pulled Mina into his side, but the man beside him sent you into an immediate bad mood. Was the universe testing your strength or was he stalking you? Beside the canoodling pair was none other than the man who’d yet to apologize for splashing you or stealing your deliver drivers snacks.

He was dressed head to toe in black, not that you’d expect anything less, his hair messy as if he’d literally just rolled out of bed and been drug here. As your eyes meet, you find yourself getting nervous. With Mina preoccupied, and Bakugou being hell bent on pissing you off, you knew it was bound to be a long night.

“Loser.” Bakugou greets, pulling his phone from his pocket. You say nothing and lean against the wall beside Mina. “How many of my friends do you know? I’d like to avoid this in the future.”

Almost an hour had passed, and you’d yet to push yourself off of the wall Mina had left you at. She wanted to dance, and you had no intention on joining her and third wheeling. Once Bakugou had left, Kirishima introduced himself but that was as far as you got in conversation before his entire attention was back on the girl that had come to see him.

“Hey!” Your eyes lift from your phone hearing her voice calling to you in the thick crowed that formed in her absence. You’d just slide the phone into your tiny bag when she reached you with wide, excited eyes. “Kiri wants to take us to watch a race! We’re leaving in 5!”

“Wait-.” You try to stop her, tell her that it wasn’t happening, but she was already slipping through the crowed before your hand moved to reach for hers. “Fuck.”

You didn’t want to go watch an illegal race, much less with a man neither of you knew. If your dad found out, you’d be as good as dead without a single tear shed. He wasn’t an awful father, but his loyalty to the law came first and if he knew his baby girl was partaking in illegal street races, he’d burn the city to the ground himself.

“Worried daddy’s gonna be disappointed if you live a little?” You refuse to react to Bakugous snarky comment. He was right? You were worried about your father’s opinion but that’s none of his business. “Don’t worry loser, the idea to race tonight was formed recently so as long as you keep your mouth shut we won’t get caught.”

“Thought you’d never be in a position to need me to keep my mouth shut?” Your arms cross as you finally stomach your anxiety and look beside you where he stood. His eyes give you a once over, a weird feeling settling over you as they return to meet your own. “I should tell him, since you decided to splash a puddle at me and then steal food from my porch.”

“How would you tell him?” His playful tone made you want to rip that stupid smirk off his face and stomp on it. Still, through his taunt, his hard set eyes don’t falter and his right hand raises with an all too familiar item in your hand. “You’d need your cell phone to do that right?”

“Give me that!” You reach, gasping as you realize he’d pick pocketed you in the last 60 seconds. How was he able to swipe it without you noticing? “Seriously? I’m not a snitch, I’m not gonna rat anyone out. Mina’s going and I’d never do that to her.”

“I’ll keep it until the race is over. To be sure.” His shoulder brushes against yours as he walks past you and toward the hall of people. You’re quick, shoving through the apparently cinder block bodies that separated you. “Keeping up, mole?”

“M-mole!?” You exclaim, finally shoving past the last few people lingering in the door way and meeting him on the concrete outside. Your irritation was at an all time high and you could stop your hands from shaking as you press a finger into his tshirt covered chest. “I’m not a mole, now give me my phone!”

“How about- I keep it, then when we get there I consider giving it to you?” He brushes your finger off and continues walking toward the sidewalk where Mina waved to you excitedly. Does she not see what’s happening? Bakugou looks toward Kirishima as you struggle to keep up with his long strides. “You know her dad’s a cop right, shitty hair?”

“Yeah, but she’s cool.” Kirishima waves his hand as if he’d known you for his entire life and trusted you. “Plus, Mina says she doesn’t even talk to the guy.”

“Mina.” You shriek, offended she’d even think to warn Kirishima, or give him reassurance. “Why would you tell anyone that?”

“I didn’t think it was an issue!” She plasters a fake smile on her face as the four of you begin walking in a direction you hadn’t come from. “Plus, I don’t want everyone thinking you’re a mole or something.”

Bakugou lets out an amused huff as Kirishima opens the back door to a small silver car. If this was a bike race why were you getting into the back seat of a car? Do they leave their bikes somewhere near where these races happen-?

“I’ll meet you there.” You jump as a loud bang rattles the car, Bakugous hand coming down on the outside roof of the car as he peers into the passenger seat to talk to Kirishima. His eyes trail back to you and he rolls his crimson eyes before reaching in to toss your phone into your lap. “Snitch and I come find you.”

The dark underpass held little to no light as you trail behind your distracted friend and her current love interest. She hadn’t spoken to you the whole ride here, but you felt her eyes bouncing over to you ever so often. You knew she was worried you’d call your father, but she was right. You hardly ever spoke to him anyway.

“Oh wow!” She beams, following him to the crowd forming under the bridge. Empty beer cans crunch under your shoes as you follow, stopping once Kirishima has helped push your way to the front. “This is cool! Isn’t it?”

You didn’t want to be nice to her right now, so you shrug and keep your eyes trained on the two men perched on their bikes in the center of the abandoned dirt road. You recognized Bakugou easily, you’d posed on his bike a week ago and could feel the arrogant aura dripping from the matte wrap of the bikes body. As if he’d felt you staring, he pulls his helmet off and looks over to where you stood unhappily and grins.

He was enjoying the fact that he was about to break the law in front of a cops daughter, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it. Or maybe his goal here wasn’t to taunt your postion between your best friend and the law. Maybe he just enjoyed pissing you off.

The next few minutes drag on in a blur, but you couldn’t shake the weird unfamiliar buzz flowing through your veins as a pretty blonde steps in front of the two men starting their bikes. When her arms fly up, you notice a small tilt to Bakugous helmet as he looked in your direction as if to say ‘watch this’.

The crowd goes silent as the woman speaks, before throwing her hands down. Dirt flies, creating a mist of dirt and debris as the wheels find traction and send each if them flying down the road. If you’d have blinked you might has missed Bakugous legs lifting from the ground and his body leaning into the body of the bike before he disappeared down the deserted road.

“This is so cool.” Mina squeals, bouncing between her feet with one of Kirishimas arms draped over her shoulders. How long had she known this guy again? “Did you see that? He like disappeared- oh look they’re coming back!”

You look up, seeing the other racer making his way back toward where he started. The sound of the engines echo through your ears, the ground rattling slightly beneath your feet as the man slows down enough to slide his bike in a way that turns him around to head back down the opposite direction. Bakugou right behind him, using his leg to slide his bike even faster than the man before him.

It wasn’t long until the crowd grew in volume and cheers erupted excitedly with the winner returning to the starting line. You too felt excited, even though you knew being here was against your character and everything you’d been taught to value. The only down side was Bakugou had crossed the Finnish line first, which meant his ego would be growing impossibly larger very soon.

“He’s so hot.” A random female voice gasps from beside you as Bakugou removes his helmet and steps of the Bike. “Oh my god, Tiff! He’s coming over to us!”

You felt sorry for Tiffs friend who wore a bright smile aimed at him. You knew he was coming over to taunt you, not to hit on her and you wished his eyes were set on her and not you. She held her smile tightly, stretching the skin around her mouth so hard it looked painful, all the way until he stopped in front of you and glared down at your guilty eyes.

“Enjoy the show, loser?” He asks, completely oblivious to the offended girl beside you who’d already begun staring at you in disgust. “I completely dusted your boy, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of it.”

“My boy?” You question, looking to Mina for any insight on what he meant, but unluckily for you- she’d been preoccupied with her tongue down Kirishimas throat. “Who-?”

The word hadn’t even fully left your lips before you were sucking in a surprised gasp. You look past his shoulder and feel your head spinning as you lock eyes with the man who’d just raced against Bakugou. Bakugou watches with a cocky smirk, probably expecting your surprised reaction to the second racer’s identity.

“Tenya!?”

You knew Tenya from childhood, his brother had helped your father a few times on the force and you’d developed a brief friendship with the man who’d now avoided you like the plague. You were shocked, knowing how uptight he was about following simple rules, but you also weren’t too surprised he found fun in racing. He’d always been intrigued with engines.

“Ready to head home?” Mina asks after what felt like 12 hours. After the first race, a few more went in, but you lingered back to Kirishimas car and waited for Mina to remember you’d come with her. “He’s gonna drop you off, he’s saying bye to his friends and we’ll go!”

A simple nod answers her question and you pull your phone from your pocket as you wait. You try to forget the rush you felt watching the race and instead focus on looking into ordering Mali a new pair of Pointe slippers. If anything would distract you, it would be the 3 digit price tag on the shoes the company required the dancer to wear.

Kirishima returns and you file into his car shortly, you don’t even bother making small talk, not when Mina was happily sharing gossip with the driver. You were happy that she seemed happy, but worried crept into your chest as you wonder if she was aware of this part of his life before inviting you to meet him. She had to have known you’d have warned her not to get involved but you’d hoped she’d have told you anyway.

You were stepping out and waving goodbye just as a message comes through your phone making you shake in anger once again.

Bakugou (Asshole): Stopped by and grabbed another Gatorade, Dekus cats on your porch again.

———

-Parchy

———

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