Her Forgotten ~Tomura Shigaraki x OC AU~

Chapter 16: Steam and Hate

**Mature content ahead – reader discretion advised**

Illika

I wish I were stronger.

I wish I was stronger. Strong enough to toss and flip over furniture. Strong enough to bring a bat to every window. Strong enough to destroy this whole Goddamn place. Strong enough to walk away.

But no. No, I'm not strong enough. Not strong enough to do any of those things, including walking away. And nor am I smart enough to flip this fucking showerhead to the ceiling feature.

Fuck this.

I close my eyes, letting the hot water cascade down my back. It might be a tad too hot. The steam is sweltering, filling my lungs with fire, squeezing my throat as the heat curls my skin, pinkening my flesh. But I don't care.

Inside my head, I am still seething with fury. This rage continuously courses through my veins, filling my bloodstream. Or maybe that's the adrenaline still zapping. Still moving like electricity during a storm. A tornado swirling in my chest.

I don't understand this feeling. Tomura and I have had plenty of fights. Granted, most were strategically plotted and executed with the full intention of me ending up naked, but this one... He was provoking me. Purposely. He had an intention, but it wasn't with the end goal of sex.

No. He wanted to hurt me.

Even now, I don't want to admit that as the reality, but deep down – deep in the pit of my soul – I know that was what he was doing. Whatever power trip and alpha bullshit he's playing with Dabi has him acting more like a jackass than usual. And yes, it did hurt. More than I care to admit. Hearing those nasty and foul words fall from his tongue... It hurt me.

Even more so, it penetrated deep, cutting me far more than I even thought possible. And I won't lie, I don't know why it bothers me so much. Sure, it was misogynistic as hell and irritably territorial for no damn reason. I mean, he practically called me his own personal sex slave, devaluing me more than I thought he ever would, but I know there's more than that.

I know he's having that pissing match with Dabi. He's jealous whenever he sees me with him. I get that. I even understand it. I might not like it, but that's easier to swallow than him openly saying I am a slave to him who owes him her body.

That same lump from earlier reforms in my throat.

I shouldn't care. I know I shouldn't. So what if what he said was hurtful? It still shouldn't bother me. Shouldn't. It shouldn't. But it does. It bothers me so, so much.

I don't know why. Maybe because I worked so hard to be more than just the foreigner girl. Maybe because I've put so much time and effort into integrating myself into this unit. Maybe because I thought I was finally more than the outsider I know I am, but that's ridiculous because now I am even less.

I am his personal sex slave.

At least, that is what was implied. Said. Not word for word, but it's still what he was getting at. That I am property. Not a foreigner, let alone a person. I am just a piece of meat meant to please him. My value comes from what's between my thighs, not my abilities or my talents. Just the sexual gratification that knocks his rocks off.

The water continues to fall, sliding like fire. I press my forehead against the cool wall. It is a stark contrast to the hot air filling my lungs. It's almost refreshing in a way. Like light and dark. Two separate ends of a single linear expression. Both are familiar and known to me. Both are here, trying to clear my mind. Both trying –