[Y/n's POV:]
I find myself pinned to the wall, pants dangling from one ankle and a scarred man pounding inside of me until I'm sure he's trying to fuck me through the bricks.
His teeth sink into the tendons of my neck, biting down hard enough to make me scream.
"For such a timid thing, you sure take it hard," his tongue laps the wound he just inflicted, "I wouldn't have guessed."
How the fuck did I end up like this?
[Earlier]
Was it the best idea to track down a serial arsonist on my own? Probably not. Fine then, definitely not. But there was no point second-guessing the decisions I'd made earlier.
I wasn't going to climb the hero ranks if all I ever did was catch petty criminals like some quirkless street cop.
If I wanted to start making a name for myself, I'd have to do something heroic, really heroic and bringing down a wanted arsonist was a step in the right direction.
There would be no more questioning my ability or tenacity, the other agencies would have to sit up and take notice of the new kid on the block. They wouldn't be able to pass me off as some kind of hero battery.
I move in the shadows, avoiding the sickly yellow pools cast by the street lights, no point being caught before I find out what my target is doing.
He's ahead of me, moving purposefully down the street, his black jacket flaring around him.
I scoff internally. Bloody villains. Always with the melodrama.
When he ducks into a bar I slow my pace, careful not to enter too close behind him, allowing a minute to pass before pushing open the door.
What a fucking dump.
Smoke hangs heavily in the air, tainted with the stench of alcohol and stale sweat.
So, this must be villain-chic. Charming.
I don't immediately see him through the sea of bodies and make my way through the crowd to sit at the bar, hoping for a better vantage point.
Ordering a beer to not look suspicious, I settle in, waiting but don't have to wait long. Before I'm able to take a third sip, a scalding hot hand presses against the small of my back.
I try to jerk away in surprise but a second hand on my shoulder holds me in place.
"Care to explain why you've been stalking me for the last two hours?"
Oh shit. Oh fuck. Shit fuck.
He'd been on to me the entire time? Just leading me into a trap and I went willingly?
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. I berate myself silently.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I try to sound convincing, but hear the lie in my own voice.
I'm going to die tonight. I'm going to become a small pile of ashes in the middle of nowhere and no-one will know about it.
"Bullshit," he calls me out, "I can smell the deceit on you, hero." His hand on my back heats up uncomfortably. "Don't make a scene. You're going to get up quietly and walk toward the back door. If I get so much as a hint that you're trying something, I'll light your ass up."
I move cautiously to my feet with him on my heels, never letting up the threatening heat at my back and step into a narrow alley, barely lit by the dim bulb hanging precariously from loose wires.
What a place to die.
He pushes me roughly against the wall. "Quirk? And don't lie to me, you'll only piss me off more."
"I uhmm... I can amplify other people's quirks" I answer. No point lying when I was already knee deep in shit, but he didn't need to know the full extent of my ability. Playing along might just give me enough time to find an opening to gain the upper hand, kick the bastard in the balls and run like hell.
He pats me down, his hands groping with efficiency. "Got to make sure you don't shank me as soon as I let you off this wall."
Spinning around to face him, I see him up close for the first time.
The scars aren't easy to ignore, angry patches of skin contrasting his otherwise perfect complexion, but his eyes... fuck, the clearest shade of blue I've ever seen but they're in the face of a killer, can't let myself forget that.
He's macabrely beautiful and responsible for killing 30 people. These are the facts, y/n, I remind myself. Stick to the facts. This was not the time for my villain kink to activate.
