He scooped Izuku up without struggle, arms as steady as steel. He carried his prize from the main room, voice slicing through the League members that lingered with threat.
"Shig—"
"Leave. Clear the halls."
—
Third POV
Shigaraki moved with a surprising gentleness as he carried his omega through the labyrinthine, dim corridors that twisted beneath the city's surface. Every step echoed quietly off the grimy, paint-chipped walls that pressed in around them, their fluorescent lights buzzing and flickering unevenly above. The chill in the air was sharp, persistent, carrying the metallic tang of old blood and antiseptic, making the journey feel even longer and more isolating.
The onset of his heat had come too soon, leaving him vulnerable and out of sorts. As they moved deeper into the hallway, Izuku's whimpers gradually swelled into desperate, shaky cries. He instinctively wrapped his trembling arms around his stomach, trying to guard himself against the relentless pain.
Sensing Izuku's distress, Shigaraki shifted his grip and pressed his hand gently to Izuku's exposed, sensitive abdomen, his touch both protective and reassuring.
His soft, plaintive whimpers seemed to grow louder as the pain worsened, each breath catching in his throat and threatening to spill over into desperate sobs. He was utterly worn down, his muscles trembling with exhaustion, and his mind clouded by the feverish haze of a heat that had come on too suddenly. With every uneven lurch in Shigaraki's pace, Izuku instinctively clutched at his stomach, fingers digging into the aching flesh as if he could shield himself from the relentless waves of discomfort rolling through him.
Feeling Izuku's distress, Shigaraki paused briefly in the shadowy hallway. The omega's scent, tinged with hurt, desire, and confusion, hung thickly between them, intensifying in the stale air. Shigaraki pressed his palm softly to Izuku's quivering abdomen, his touch careful, radiating a firm tenderness meant to calm. He drew in a steadying breath and let his own scent, rich, grounding, unmistakably alpha, bloom and mingle, saturating the space in a cocoon of reassurance and safety.
He began to hum, a low and soothing vibration deep in his chest, the kind of sound that vibrated through skin and bones and somehow made the world seem more bearable. Drawing Izuku closer, Shigaraki pressed his lips to the tousled green hair in a protective gesture, silently vowing to keep the world at bay.
They reached the battered door at the end of the corridor. Shigaraki shouldered it open, carrying Izuku into the small, cluttered room lit only by the weak afternoon light filtering through frosted glass.
"You brought your troublemaker."
"Oh don't be so petty. Heal him."
"What would I get in return?"
"Possibly OFA."
The doctor stiffened every so slightly.
"AFO didn't succeed, huh?" his grin widened on his face as he got closer.
Shigiraki placed Izuku down on the clean bed.
"If you even hurt a single hair on his head—"
"Yeah, yeah, you mirror your master's temper." Doc rolled his eyes.
He nodded towards the door.
With a final glance down the hallway, he closed the heavy metal door behind them with a definitive click, muffling the noises from the rest of the lair. Here, at least, the overpowering scent of his suffering omega would remain private, sheltered from curious or predatory outsiders.
Shigaraki wished to wrap Izuku securely in his arms, to radiate strength and comfort, to shield his battered, precious omega from a world that had so often been unkind.
—
Izuku POV
Heat radiated from every inch of my skin, a feverish, all-consuming warmth that seemed to pulse with my racing heartbeat.
It's so hard to breathe.
I became aware of an unfamiliar wetness, sticky and uncomfortable, clinging between my thighs, amplifying my unease. Discomfort curled in my belly, sharp and persistent, yet someone was there, hands gentle as they kneaded at my stomach, almost as if trying to soothe the pain coiling inside me.
A scent drifted towards me, sweet and unmistakably familiar, winding itself into my senses. It was a subtle lull that coaxed me towards the edges of sleep. I wanted to surrender to the peace it promised, to slip away and forget. But my mind rebelled, forcing memories of what had happened to the surface. The events slammed into me, halting all comfort.
Forced my eyes open, only to be assaulted by blinding, sterile light. My heart thundered in my ears, each beat heavy with fear and anger. Panic propelled me upwards. I sat up abruptly, unsettled and disoriented. The room was overwhelmingly white; the floor and even the bedding were cold and emotionless. My gaze snapped to the shadowy figure in front of me. My alpha. Instinctive anger surged through me before something colder took over: fear. I tried to still my trembling, but my body betrayed me. The shaking was unmistakable.
I looked away from his deceitfully soft eyes.
'I have to run.'
'This traitor!'
The anger came back twice as strong.
"Izuku."
"Shut up."
"You don't have the right to say my name," my voice rose, edged with tears threatening to spill.
"I won't give you what you want." I snarled through clenched teeth.
"Even if it kills me!" I heaved.
Desperation made me push myself up, ready to dash for freedom. I was ready to fight him with everything I had. My trust in him, in any villain, was my greatest and last mistake. But as soon as I stood, he slammed me back down with brutal strength. My breath rushed out; I was pinned. The overwhelming rush of his pheromones, sharp, commanding, full of no comfort, washed over me, dark and suffocating. I knew the rage of a dominant alpha only too well, and I had sworn never to be this vulnerable again, yet here I was, cornered, powerless.
My body wouldn't respond; it was frozen, numb. The omega in me recoiled, terrified of what his anger might unleash, what he could easily do to me. I was so weak, so utterly incapable of fighting him off.
He loomed over me, a figure both recognizable and strange, as if something monstrous wore my alpha's skin. He exuded menace, trying to force my submission.
"You're not my alpha!" I screamed.
"Get off of me!"
My fists balled with the urge to hit him, but his hands closed around my wrists, pressing them firmly against the mattress on either side of my head. His grip was iron. His eyes blazed, wild and unhinged.
"Enough," he ordered, his tone final and cold.
I met his fiery red gaze with a glare of my own, growling low in my throat, refusing to yield.
He responded with a growl ten times as fierce. My body quaked, fear and adrenaline warring inside me until I thought I might pass out.
It was a primal clash of wills. When he straddled me, pinning my body beneath the weight of his dominance, the fight seemed to drain from me. Instinctively, I bared my scent gland as a last act of defiance, or perhaps surrender.
I wanted to struggle, to break free, but he was a monster in the form of my alpha, holding me down as if I weighed nothing at all.
The air thickened, saturated by the choking intensity of his pheromones. Each breath dragged painfully through my lungs, filling me with panic. I resisted with everything I had, but the more I tried, the more crushing and inescapable his presence became.