BNHA x Reader

Shigaraki Tomura x Reader

"Please?" I look up at Shigaraki pleadingly.

"No. That's stupid." He crosses his arms.

"Pleaaaaase?" I whine.

"Shut up, you wretch," He reaches out a threatening hand.

I let out a sigh. "Fine. Whatever." Getting up from the couch, I leave the room. Choosing one of the several vacant bedrooms in the bar, I plop down on the bed. It has small singe marks in the blankets, and the room smells like smoke. Dabi must sleep here sometimes.

Closing my eyes, I rest my hand on my head. He always had to be like this. Defiant, angry, unyielding. Even when I was in need of comfort. I knew that going into the relationship, but he said he wanted to try being together anyway.

My stomach churns as I remember what put us in this situation today. I had seen someone from my past life. Someone who had abused me and pushed me to be a villain. I was a bit distraught, so I had curled up on the couch. When Tomura had returned, I asked for him to sit beside me and cuddle a bit.

He had declined, rather indignantly. He wanted nothing to do with cuddling and stuff like that. Maybe he just didn't want to be near me.

I turn over, trying to shake the thoughts out of my head. I feel myself relax, drifting off into a light sleep.

Nearly half an hour later, the door creaks open. I stir a bit, not turning around. "Sorry Dabi, I'll wake up in a bit."

Someone walks over, sitting on the bed. I feel it dip down under their weight.

"Dabi?" Tomura growls.

I don't even bother opening my eyes. "Oh, it's you. This is Dabi's bed, I think. Burn marks."

"Right," Tomura pauses, almost as if he's hesitating.

We fall silent. He just sits there, watching me. I try to sleep, but his staring is annoying. I open my eyes, only for him to sigh and lay down beside me. His arms wrap delicately around my waist, his hands covered by the two-fingered gloves I had gotten him.

Tomura moves closer, his chest against my back. I let out a breath. "I'm sorry," he mutters. "When you left, I knew I messed up. You've never been that angry."

I shake my head. "I wasn't angry. I was hurt."

"And I wasn't there for you. I was afraid to hurt you, but you were already hurting. I should have realized."

I turn, burying my face in his neck. "I know you're afraid of hurting me. It just made me feel so alone."

"You're not," he sighs, "not anymore."

My lips press against his neck, and he kisses my head. "You're my world," he whispers.

I smile. That's what he always said, instead of 'I love you'. It's what he meant. He didn't believe in telling a person that. It didn't hold a meaning, as much as it was just something people were supposed to say. Instead, he says this.

"And you're my moon."

He cuddles me closer, and I fall asleep cuddling him.