ストックホルム (Yandere Shigaraki x Reader)

Who

The room, stark and uninviting, felt even smaller as your fist slammed aside Shigaraki's head. He recoiled instantly, a sharp jerk of his hand. Before he could fully process the blow, you followed up with a second strike, a swift kick to the groin.

"Fuck!"

Shigaraki's scream tore through the silence, his voice ragged with pain and fury. His angry red eyes, usually cold, now burned into yours.

"Stupid bi-"

He cut himself off, a sudden roll of his eyes preceding a step closer.

"Stupid woman! You're lucky I don't end your miserable life here and now!"

Without warning, Shigaraki balled his fists and punched you square in the nose. The impact was jarring, and instinctively, your hands flew up to cup your face. Blood gushed between your fingers, hot and metallic, and your eyes began to water, blurring your vision. Through the sudden stinging, your E/C eyes met his. His expression was unsettlingly blank, devoid of any discernible emotion.

Slowly, his voice cut through the ringing in your ears.

"Why did you make me do that?! Did you want to be hit?!"

You gritted your teeth, the taste of blood a bitter counterpoint to your rising anger.

"You can't just touch me, you-"

"I can touch you whenever, Y/N! You belong to me!"

His voice was flat, yet held an undeniable, chilling possessiveness.

A whirlwind of questions assailed your mind. Why? Why was he like this? He treated you as if you were some prized toy, an object to be claimed and controlled.

"You didn't even ask!"

You retorted, the injustice of it all fueling your defiance.

Shigaraki squinted at you, a bizarre expression that reminded you of a small child who had just been denied something they believed was rightfully theirs.

"Ask? You're mine? I shouldn't have to ask!"

Silence hung heavy in the air, punctuated only by the drip of blood from your nose. The audacity of this "man-child" was staggering. Your mind raced, a sudden, cold wave of realization washing over you. How long did he intend to keep you here? Did he plan to ever let you go? Your family, your friends—what about them? Did he plan on killing you? The stark reality of your situation pressed in. You couldn't afford to treat him with disrespect if you wanted to survive this. Your eyes darted towards the Chinese food bags Shigaraki had carried into the room moments before. A distraction, perhaps, a way to navigate this perilous situation.

"What's in the bag?"

you asked, your voice surprisingly steady despite the throbbing in your nose.

Shigaraki's eyebrows rose slightly, a flicker of surprise in his gaze. "Fried rice, chow mein, beef and broccoli, and orange chicken."

What a basic order... you thought, a strange, almost mundane observation amidst the chaos.

He looked over at you, his eyes still holding that unreadable blankness.

"Are you hungry?"

Your eyes met his, and you nodded slowly, a small, almost imperceptible movement. Shigaraki walked over to the bag, his movements surprisingly fluid, and opened it. He began to hand you the small, takeout containers. The warmth of the containers against your palm was an unexpected comfort, a small anchor in a sea of uncertainty. You carefully placed the containers on the floor, arranging them in a neat circle. Shigaraki sat down next to you, a pair of chopsticks extended in your direction.

"Thank you..."

Your voice was barely a whisper, shy and meek.

"You should be thankful..."

His words hung in the air, flat and devoid of inflection.

You paused, looking at him, trying to discern if his comment was a genuine expression of his entitled worldview or some twisted attempt at a joke. To be honest, even if it was a joke, he was still being an asshole.

"I know if you keep that attitude, girls will never want you."

The words slipped out before you could fully censor them, a desperate attempt to needle him, to find a weakness.

Shigaraki's eyes narrowed, his eyebrows furrowing in a visible display of irritation.

"I don't want girls, I want a girl. HER AND ONLY HER."

He spoke with an angry tone, almost as if he was genuinely offended by the suggestion that he would desire anyone other than you. Despite his anger, you decided to press on with a question.

"Who's that?"

Shigaraki's gaze settled on you, direct and unwavering.

"I want you..."