Weakling (Bakugo x Reader)

Torture Is My Favorite Breakfast Food

"Who the hell is this?"

"Sorry, Shigaraki. She threw herself at us."

I crashed facefirst onto the floor once the warp gate did its job, the scent of mold and stale cigars invading my nose.

"Well, the more the merrier. Mizugumo Kana, was it?"

Clenching my fists, I lifted my face off of the sticky floor to see that we were in a dimly lit bar. Water stains splattered the ceilings and paint peeled off the fake brick wallpaper on the opposite wall. Next to the bar lined with shabby velvet red stools sat an old box television, eerily playing the news on mute.

The water dripping from the faucet leak acted like a lazy metronome as sounds of roaches and mice skittering across the floor filled the otherwise quiet room.

Where the fuck-

"DIEEE!" Bakugo let out a thunderous roar from next to me, arm raised as he blew an attack at everyone, seemingly indifferent to the fact that I was also in the room.

Only, it was redirected back at him through the purple villain's warp gate.

Bakugo was thrown back by his own attack, his limp body crashing back into the wall, head lolling down as his chin rested on his chest, unconscious. The clothes on his back singed into his skin as thin trails of smoke rose from his form.

"Tsk tsk tsk. You know you can't attack us with Kurogiri here, right?" The ringleader of the group—Shigaraki, apparently—admonished an unhearing Bakugo in a patronizing way. "Now, what do we do about you, Mizugumo?"

Fully pushing myself up on limbs weak with fear, I crawled backward away from the gang of villains.

"What . . . what do you want?"

I wanted to punch myself for my shaky voice.

Swallowing, I tried to bring some moisture into my mouth. It was as dry as the Sahara Desert right now.

"What do we want?" Shigaraki crouched down on the balls of his feet. "It's simple, really. I want to rid the world of hypocrisy."

I frowned. "You're . . . Stain's followers?"

Shigaraki's hand lashed out to grab my neck before Kurogiri warped it away. "Tomura. Don't be rash."

"Tch." Pulling his hand back, Shigaraki's eyes glowed an eery blood red as he stared at me in contempt. "Don't confuse us with the idiot Stain. We're the League of Villains."

Rising, he walked over to the bar and sat down on a stool, pouring water from a pitcher to a random empty glass on the countertop.

Is that even clean? The glass looks . . . murky.

"It's not a surprise that the hero society is corrupt. It's about time someone changed that."

"So what does kidnapping us achieve?" Good. My voice was less shaky now that I established that I wasn't in immediate danger. If they wanted to kill me, they would've just done so the moment I got warped here.

Now I just needed to weed out information from them and stall for time while thinking of an escape route.

"Kidnapping Bakugo. We never meant to kidnap you, Mizugumo. In fact, we could knock you out and throw you onto the streets now for you to find your own way home. We don't need you." Kurogiri said matter-of-factly.

"What if I snitch?"

"Do you know where we are?" Shigaraki looked at me like I was a disgusting bug with an IQ of 20.