Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 11) -- A Shigaraki X F!Reader Fic

virgins can have kinks too!

4.1 k words / summary - multi-chap posts of me experimenting with smut writing

warnings - piv, unprotected sex + creampies, virgin shiggy, college au, porn with minimal plot, partially clothed sex, BRIEF suicide joke, fem reader, 18+ mndi

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If Tomura could go back and change any one thing in his life, it'd probably be how you two met.

Touya is messy enough to live with, now Tomura was forced to account for all the dirt-clodded shoes and unwashed hands of strangers coming into contact with his possessions. Those first hinting throbs of a headache were beginning to tease at Tomura’s pterion, and unfortunately his only access to water was blocked off by a thick weld of moist, musty athletes. Not that they intimidated Tomura, of course, they were just… an optional pain that he’d rather avoid. All their clunky terminology went over his head, and in his experience the people that Touya invites to his parties are not the inclusive type. What Tomura did understand was that they were perfectly posted up against their kitchen sink so as to be as inconvenient as possible; intending to verbally batter whatever unfortunate girl tried snagging from the fridge.

To be fair to them, though, tap water was Tomura’s backup plan. His initial objective was to sneakily steal a plastic bottle before returning to his room. All those were gone, which is sooo funny to Tomura because he’s certain that he just bought a forty pack yesterday.

Yet if Tomura were to point that out, Touya would just shift blame back onto his recluse roommate for knowingly leaving out water when he was inviting people over. So he doesn’t bother finding the stupid punk.

Similarly, he doesn’t so much as attempt either bathroom sink for water. One being annoyingly split off between the kitchen and Tomura’s room, and the other in Touya’s room. Touya’s room was a self imposed no-no for Tomura during their day-to-day, so he can’t fathom a reason to enter during the degenerate’s party. Judging by occasional thumps and ever shifting shadows beneath the gap, Tomura assumes the shared bath is in no better shape.

Right as he sets to retreat, his eyes zoom across their open floor plan -- all the way into the living room, honing in on two girls. One familiar from their shared mythology class, and the other entirely foreign. Himiko Toga is curled around the shoulders of the second girl, twirling strands of mystery girl’s hair with her long fingers.

Himiko greedily consumes all things cute, she chews them up and keeps them between her teeth to amalgamate with the next adorable target her sights set on. By the end of her life, she’ll probably puke up a cat-eared ball of pink glitter tied up with bows and proudly proclaim it to be her life’s work.

Currently, he’s watching Himiko chow down on someone that he, surprisingly, also finds cute. It's distracting.

Himiko lowers her hands until both arms are wrapped around your waist, nails burrowing into the material of your shirt. Her cheek presses against your shoulder, loose strands of blonde hair tickling up your neck.

Your neck strangely captured Tomura, then. Thick with your pulse and tissue, he wants to feel it pillow under his teeth. His lips are rough and chapped and suddenly all he can think about is how they’d feel scarring up the soft flesh of your jugular.

Himiko must be thinking that too because he watches as she turns cheek and digs her nose into the juncture of your neck.

Oh.

Tomura blinks himself free of the stupor and shakes out his hands, then wiping them dry against his pants. He didn’t think Himiko could actually hold down a relationship.

“Whatcha starin’ at, boss?”

Voice so raggedy and low, almost a staticky purr at Tomura’s back, he can instantaneously pick out who it is.

“Did you know Himiko had a girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Touya steps forward, eyes narrowed out into the crowd, “Where? I can’t see shit.”

“I told you to just get contacts, moron,” Tomura grumbles, then pointing as inconspicuous as he can (not very at all) towards their mutual friend still slithered around the unknown girl.

“Kid, that’s not her girlfriend.”

Tomura looks up at Touya, glaring through tangled, powder blue bangs, “You’re joking, right? I’m not stupid.”

“Seriously, it’s not,” Touya snickers, “Why? You interested?” when Tomura can only silently seethe up at the man, Touya grins: a sight more disturbing than reassuring, his teeth are too big and prominent, the bags under his eyes crinkle up weirdly, and it reeks of selfish glee. Touya jams out his index and middle fingers, waggling the index first, “Which one? Blondie?” then his middle, “Or new girl?”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” Tomura knocks down the man’s hand with a disgruntled scoff, “You’re mental.”

“We’ve been friends awhile now, no?” Touya stubbornly returns to pointing, “I’ve never seen you get worked up over a girl, it’s funny. So, which one?”

“It’s funny?”

“I’ll set you up.”

Admitting to the fact he’s got a beating heart and libido is so embarrassing, which leads to Tomura halfheartedly muttering, “If I had a thing for Himiko, I wouldn’t have told you first.”

“You’re cute,” Touya quips, reaching up to pinch Tomura’s cheek between black-painted nails -- pointedly ignoring the annoyed huff and swat resulting. He steps around Tomura to venture through the jungle of his guests, “I’m on it.”

Touya is one of the best, and worst, people that Tomura has ever met. Touya is bothersome and rude and sometimes downright narcissistic, but also headstrong. Touya decided the day his dad bought him this house that he wanted to room with the dork from his freshman year geography lecture. Touya decided that Tomura and him were best friends when Tomura helped him pass their aforementioned geography class. Touya decided last year that the pair should bleach their hair together for a laugh. Touya decided just now to be Tomura’s wingman.

His singlemindedness pairs almost lethally well with his sense of loyalty. It almost made Touya seem… admirable.

Tomura internally gags over the thought, quickly refocusing on real life where Touya is leading Himiko (who is leading her mystery friend via deathgrip on your hand) back towards the kitchen.

Himiko giggles upon seeing Tomura, “You thought we were dating?”

Nevermind. Touya is just as insufferable as he was three years ago badgering Tomura for his lecture notes.

“Be nice. You’re so touchy, I’m sure everyone thought we’re together,” mystery girl squeezes Himiko’s hand, then smiling over at Tomura, “But I’m totally single.”

Oh.

Touya’s the most direct, masterminded person Tomura’s ever met.

All that masterminding goes to utter waste if Tomura can’t wake up and relearn social cues, though. Touya jabs an elbow into Tomura’s gaunt side, ribs aching from the blow.

“Okay,” Tomura nods dumbly, swallowing the unease trapped in his throat and once again drying his hands against his sweatpants.

“If you couldn’t tell,” Touya yanks Himiko into his side and out of your hold, “So is he.”

Himiko whines and reaches out as Touya drags her off, the pair slinking somewhere deep into the crowd of thrashing, bumbling bodies.

“You don’t look much like the party type,” you hum, maybe a little unhelpfully. Tried and true method of flirting, however, is being just a tad mean. A less fluffy version of the tragic come here often? line is sure to crack this man’s icy exterior.

“My roommate,” Tomura flings a thumb over in the direction Himiko was hauled off, “He’s the delinquent, I just share the space,” suddenly the insides of his sweatpants are too hot, and so is the flimsy white shirt on his chest, “I just wanted water.”

Sweltering air beats from the center of his chest down to his ankles, even tickling up his neck. The longer you stare at him, the hotter his body feels. Scorching up his face too, burning away layers of dried, ungroomed skin to reveal every muscle twinge. Tomura wants to both comb his hair back and hide behind the strands (most of all, though, he wishes he’d bothered brushing it whatsoever before making his venture). Being so trapped between either option makes his brain short circuit until he’s, rather bashfully, tucking hair behind his ear like some blushing ingenue.

Thankfully you don’t appear troubled by the sight, instead grinning wider and even laughing at his admission (Tomura likes your smile: lips giving prominence to flattering teeth, balls of your cheeks plumping, and lashes fluttering. Definitely more lovely than Touya’s). You fold your arms, “Poor thing. You probably don’t wanna be stuck out here, huh?”

Insecurity visibly crawls along the downward twitch of your lips, your brows furrowing. Tomura stares at you, committing each divot and angle of your body to memory. By the time he’s finished, he realizes you’re waiting for him to respond.

“Yeah…” he mutters lamely, scratching at the crackled film of skin over his chelidon, then smoothing a thumb into the depression as his heart hammers up his throat -- pressing a disarray of words against his palate. They linger by his uvula, gagging him into stunned silence, until he can finally choke out an uneven, “Do you wanna go back to my room?”

As soon as the question was in the air, buzzing unattended between your faces, Tomura wanted to claw out his eyeballs. Maybe rip out his tongue, too. Such gore would surely erase any memories of his implying he thought he had a chance with you. That was far preferable to the disgust about to cross your face.

Except, that disgust never comes.

Alternatively, you nod, “Sounds fun!”

Tomura kept his area tidy enough. A stack of bowls, two cups, three empty Dr. Pepper cans, and a single Maruchan ramen cup on his desk. A lump of clothes he’s procrastinated washing carefully lines the edge of his bed. But that was all, really.

He wanted his room to be livable, and if he felt so childish as to be proud of it then he liked the sight of his uncluttered carpet. How easily he could make the trek from bed to computer to door (and, of course, the desultory detours to his bookcase or closet) without tripping on trash or abundantly strewn clothes. If he felt further inclined to childishness, Tomura even congratulated himself on maintaining a room cleaner than Touya’s.

Even despite the stacked bowls and cups on his desk and emptied soda bottles cluttering his desk legs.

None of that is sufficient anymore. He’s inspecting your face like it’ll burst open with an alien race for any sign of judgment. Cautiously, Tomura kicks a tangle of loose shirts under his bed while you’re distracted ogling his decorated shelves.

“You like Omori?” your question startles him from kicking a pair of boxers under his bed.

“Huh?”

You’re pointing at a lineup of four acrylic stands -- not the complete set, Tomura only burdened his wallet with purchasing the main party over including Basil and Mari -- on the top shelf of his bookcase, “Omori, right? I didn’t think you’d like that type of game.”

“Do I not look like I would?” he doesn’t know why that inference hurts his feelings. Shamefully, he cards his fingers through his knotted hair, slotting more locks behind his ear, “I played it a long time ago. Now I’m too busy for anything else story-driven, so I’m mostly on League. Or Overwatch if I feel like killing myself.”

“You don’t look like you like suffering, I guess is what I meant,” you draw your bottom lip up between your teeth (he hopes it doesn’t sting, he wants to kiss it better if it does), “But knowing you play Overwatch…”

“I try to avoid it,” Tomura prays his self-grooming is subtle, or at least lowkey enough for you to not notice as you continue browsing his various knick knacks and figures, “You game?”

“Eh, RPGs usually. I don’t like working with others when I play, it makes me nervous to screw up.”

“That’s cute,” he doesn’t mean to say it aloud, honestly. Two measly words small enough to slip through his pursed lips. Two words big enough to ruin his night.

“Think so?” but you’re… smiling again.

“I guess,” Tomura’s eyes shift quickly over to his pillows. Are they soft enough? Should he flip them over? What the hell is fluffing, and does it actually do anything?

“Are you usually this shy? Or am I special?”

Not often does Tomura feel truly helpless, but your incessant teasing pairs lethally with your fluttering lashes and painted lips. He wishes he were more accustomed to conversing with strangers, especially pretty strangers that were interested in him. Part of him wants to believe that if you’re attracted to him now, you’ll be stubborn enough to stick out whatever cluelessness he bumbles out -- but he doesn’t. He simply cannot bring himself to buy that.

“You’re making me nervous, like I’m about to puke.”

“Flattering,” you join Tomura on his bed, soft knee nudging his, “I hope you don’t. It’d kinda ruin the mood.”

He’s terribly unable to keep the casanova impersonation up, though, “What mood?”

You throw your head back and laugh. Hearty and full and so mortifying for him, worse are your next words, “You know why people go into private rooms at parties, right?”

“Uhh…”

“You do. I do, too. That’s why I came back here, you know? If you only wanna talk, that’s fine -- you’re fun to just talk to! But I came back here ‘cuz I want to have sex with you, if you want to, too.”

Tomura can feel that dreaded heartbeat climbing up his chest and into his gullet again.

“You’re forward…”

You shrug, “I know what I want.”

Tomura claws at his sweatpants, chest aching and fingers numb from how your eyes are zeroed on him. He nods slowly, racketing another giggle from your chest -- you lean closer, your hand brushes his.

“Yeah?” you coax a hand around Tomura’s far shoulder, swiveling him to face you.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan gurgles the sound of his reply, you hate it.

From the shape of his lips, you can make out his agreement. With no specific intent and only a general sense of lust to guide him, Tomura leans into your touch. Snatching his hands, you shuffle his palms under your shirt, sifting the flesh up your warm belly until they’re cupping your tits. He squeezes blindly, teetering closer along his mattress. Finally, you strip off your top -- then greedily going for Tomura’s as well. He contently allows it, even lifting his arms to grant the removal.

“You’re so pretty,” Tomura noses at your neck, hot puffs of air warming your skin, “Can’t believe you’re actually here.”

His hands are soft from a lax life, if slightly clammy with nerves, and they feel nice squeezing around your hips. Tomura dips his pelvis downward, keeping your thighs scooped snug around him -- bonus for the momentary relief of pressure against his aching groin. His fingers bow beneath the waistband of your skirt until your own are tethering his in place.

“Can I leave the skirt on?” your thighs tighten around Tomura’s slim waist, you tilt your head so your soft lips press against his cheek, “Its kinda hot. To me.”

Tomura rolls his shoulders, whole body shuddering at the request. He nods with clenched eyes, digging his nails into your skin -- he likes your idea more than he can put into words (granted, his tongue may as well be superglued to his teeth right now).

“I can do that,” he manages to scrape out, drawing his fingers down the bunched material of your skirt and up your thighs, “Can I take these off?”

“Please,” you cant your hips up for Tomura to yank off your panties, he bundles them in one hand and stows the other where the material once laid. You swear you hear him whimper at the contact.

His fingers dance up your slit, gentle massaging that intensifies upon introduction of his thumb on your clit. Tomura drops your underwear off the side of his bed and uses the freed palm to work off his sweatpants, but just before he can snap the drawstring -- he stops completely.

“Wait,” he pants, “Hang on. Don’t move.”

Tomura runs out like he’s caught fire, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him and leaving you splayed on his mattress.

He returns with a fist curled around something, and determination written in the lines of his face. Replacing himself between your thighs, Tomura hides the contents in his hand under the pillow beneath you. Before you can shoot any questions, he’s lifting your skirt and lowering his chest to the bed.

As if he can sense the curiosity burning away your mood, Tomura hurriedly buries his face in your cunt.

One gasp is stuttered short by another, Tomura flicks his tongue inside you with a groan. Pulling back only to spit on your clit, the liquid bubbling down your slit until it catches on his prodding fingertips -- your thighs jolt around his shoulders at the act. Middle finger worming into you with ease, Tomura’s burdened by the vestige of Touya’s hand on his shoulder and husks into his ear.

Yeah, condoms are in the top drawer. You need advice?

He’d been uneasy initially, nodding uncertainly, but Tomura’s grateful now.

Just as he’d been instructed, Tomura curls his middle finger and screws the pad up until- your knee knocks into his skull and he keens at the rough treatment.

“S-sorry,” you stammer out, chest arching up.

Bypassing your apology, Tomura flattens his tongue on your clit and slithers a second finger inside you. Surely by tomorrow, his arm will be sore with the work he’s pushing through, but he’s equally sure it’s worth it as you clamp around him and seize.

Strumming your gspot in time with your clit, Tomura loses himself in the thought of how your snatch would feel around his cock -- grinding against the marshmallow mattress below to relieve the pressure. Your only relief is how he greedily sucks your clit; he lets you grab his hair with both hands and roughly tug him to and fro. He lets you fuck his face, eats it up in earnest.

Prying your thighs back from his ears, Tomura shoves his sweatpants down and reaches under your head. Pulling back a foil square that crinkles with each nervous shake of his hand. Tomura’s plain black boxers soon crash to the floor as well.

“Hey,” your voice pipes up meekly, a little slurred after your orgasm. Drowsy eyes half-lidded and even sweeter on him, “Can you, uh…”

Tomura’s burning hot, flushed and vaguely sticky; bangs slickened against his face with sweat and cum. His breathlessness axiomatic of how little composure he could maintain, “What?”

“Don’t…” a shyness that now seems bizarre overtakes you, your fingers curl into his palm and unfurl the condom from his grasp, “You shouldn’t… I wanna feel you.”

He blinks down at you vapidly. So stupidly blank he's immediately ashamed of himself for blanching at your plea.

“You want it too, right?” you reach up and paw at Tomura's shoulders, “You wanna fuck me raw?”

“Uh-huh,” again dumb.

Tomura spares that response no reconsideration, instead preoccupied by holding your thighs open to nudge his cock into you. His tip bobs at your clit in the first few jerks, but his thinly construed patience is rewarded on the third attempt. You tug on his hair as Tomura humps into your sex.

He whines upon feeling that first squeeze and suck of entering your cunt, his pelvis itching up against your clit with every thrust. Blunt nails carve into the fat of your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer -- Tomura’s cock carves deep into your gut, hot and heavy. Chapped lips sear up the length of your neck, his chest squashing against yours, he teeths at the lump of your pulse and lathes the thumping point with his tongue. Budding his knees right beneath your ass, Tomura burdens the tops of his thighs against yours. Then wrapping your waist with both arms, continuing to suck your soft skin between his teeth.

Tomura gasps as the warmth of your hands finds his back, rolling lower and lower until you’re actively pushing him closer. He likes this -- loves it, even. He’s horrified to know he could’ve been having sex his entire college career and simply didn’t.

He’s further horrified that perhaps he’ll never have sex again when you leave (but mostly, he’s finding that he just doesn’t want you to leave).

“Be my girlfriend,” delirious, he’s babbling into your ear, whining and shuttering and smothering your body with his, “Be my girlfriend…! Wanna fuck you every day-- need you every day. So fucking warm and soft, all perfect for my cock,” Tomura pulls up from your neck to kiss the thin stretch of skin over your collarbones and treading to your breasts, “Like you’re made for taking it.”

What you want is to have the mental cognition to respond to him kindly, but what you have is a mushy brain and a flourishing climax scorching through your body. Grey matter melting into the bowl of your skull as Tomura kisses and pants into your tits.

“Tomu’-!” is all you can manage to squeal, nails digging jagged red lines down the man’s back.

“You cumming?” he reaches between your bodies to incise the pads of his fingers across your sodden clit.

A final push into your sensitive body, the attention spiking your head back into his pillow. Faintly, through the rush of dopamine pumping through your extremities to where your hanging mouth is expelling wanton wails of Tomu’! and yes, God! and cumming!, you can hear Tomura. You can hear him chuckling low and deep with ecstasy, “So pretty when you cum. Squeezing me so tight, too. You like me that much?”

He whines unexpectedly, wrenching both hands to your hips and branding the imprint of his calloused palms there.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he grits his teeth, scratchy throat puking up pulpy, disjointed moans of your name and fuck, fuck fucks, “I’m gonna cum,” he latches onto your tit, muffling his pathetic mewls as your legs lock him in your cunt (trembly and weak as they may be), “Cumming, cumming- ! Fuck!”

Stilling above you, Tomura chokes out soft breaths and murmurs of appreciation as he cums. Sincerely thanking you as his spend paints your insides. Collapsing on you once his balls are empty. Tomura barely has the wherewithal to roll onto his side in order to avoid overheating you under him.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan regains your attention, but this time it doesn’t seem too bad. You can’t find yourself to be very annoyed, even when the music pumping from outside vibrates Tomura’s bedroom door. Above those sounds, the one you appreciate most is the soft pelting of Tomura’s breath against your neck; damp with a mixture of sweat and his saliva, and sore from his incessant teething.

“Did you mean it?” you’re probably being mean, asking such a layered question so immediately after his release.

“About?” his voice is raggedy, sharp to a bladepoint -- if you couldn’t see the dazed, awestruck film over his lidded eyes, you’d mistake him as trying to be rude.

“Me being your girlfriend. Did you actually mean that? Or did your dick have the braincell?”

“Oh,” Tomura pushes onto his elbows, arms shaking, his hair drops over his face and this time you’re the one to brush it behind his ear. Despite cumming in you minutes ago, he blushes at the gesture and looks at your bruising neck rather than your eyes, “I guess. I don’t have a car, so I can’t drive you around for dates.”

“I can take the bus, you know,” you laugh at how Tomura’s face suddenly sours at your words.

“As if I’d let my girlfriend take the bus by herself. Do you know how many freaks go on that thing?”

“‘Cuz you’d know.”

“Yeah, I’m one of them,” the giddiness rising in his chest over your giggling at his jab quickly overtakes his face, cheeks burning with a proud smile. Tomura hides his face in your neck, “I guess it’s up to you.”

“It's up to me if you were serious or not?”

Quietly, he hums, then rasps out something you could construe as a joke if you didn’t care so much about how he felt, “I only open to begging in the sheets. Being desperate to date the first girl I fuck is so pathetic.”

Which is so insane to you because you met this man only a few hours ago.

A broiling affection that builds between the slats of your ribs, bricking off your lungs and heart just to cook them up hot and gooey and primed for the man on your chest. At least Tomura’s burgeoning crush could be reasoned away with the fact he’s a recent ex-virgin (not like you, with visitors running rarer than Tanzanite).

Still fluttery and alight with the wash of your orgasm, you give your heart the braincell and nod sluggishly, “Yeah. I want you to be serious.”

Decidedly, you spare no mind how you two barely know each other.

✿ Yandere!Tomura Shigaraki x F!Reader ✿

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

( Hello ! I wanna start a new Yandere series and here is a little sneak preview of it ;) please if you want tell me what you think so far and tell me what you wanna see in it and please leave request for more series and shorts I’d appreciate. I wanna be more Active on here and find mutuals. Hope you all have nice holidays. <3)

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

„Aww come on ten ten don’t be such a sore loser“ you giggled into his headphones.

„yeah whatever“ was all he mumbled back with a blush on his cheeks which you couldn’t see. You and Tomura, or Tenko as he introduced himself to you, have been gaming together for 2-3 months now. You guys met in some sort of chat room and have been hitting it off ever since. You not only game together but also talk on the phone for hours on end about Friends and Family , personal stuff and obviously gaming. Well you more then him. He love listening to you ramble. Your cute voice and addicting laugh.

„It’s getting kind of late ten ten (you’re the only person that gets to call him that) I have work early in the morning but it was nice talking to you“ you giggled. It really was you always felt like he was the only person that understood you. And he felt the same maybe even more but he wasn’t ready to admit that.

„Sleep well ten ten !“

„You too“

Was all he said and that was enough for you. You always knew what he was intending on saying and what he meant.

—————— next day—————————————————

From [y/n] : Hey Tenko you ready to play r/g (random Game) again ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა♡ ?

To [y/n] : sure

You were actually really good also a reason why he liked playing with you besides your cute voice. It was getting kind of frustrating that you were so good. Not to mention you were enjoying yourself quit a bit and making little remarks about how bad he was.

„Ok now your not THAT good“ he said

„I only won four times in a row didn’t I“ you said cheekily.

„Yeah yeah whatever“

„Well maybe you can learn a couple of things from me would you watch play“

What did you mean watch you play. Did you stream ? You guys have been talking about all lot of stuff but jobs and other hobbies have never really been topic. You did send him pictures before so he kinda knew what you looked like. You were the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. But all he said that he didn’t need to watch you.

„Here is the link to my channel if you ever change your mind“

Tomura could feel how his heart sped up and a blush was creeping on his skin. He had to suppress the urge to click on the link and watch you stream. He had recordings of your voice which he listens to every night and the pictures you send him which he looked at when he felt down or when he did other things… But it wasn’t his fault that he got hard looking at you. You were just so beautiful to him.

„Buuut let’s finish this round I’m getting kind of tired ten ten“

„This time I’m gonna beat ya“ he said chuckling. The excitement and the images of you streaming shot right to his member. He wondered if you were one of those who wore slutty clothes and took money from old men. He was gritting his teeth trying not to make a sound. It excited him being able to see you more often it wasn’t enough to just see your pictures anymore he needed more. He won the round and he let out an excited “yes!” Which made him blush a little bit he was still a little awkward about showing so much emotions. You like it tho it was cute the way he got excited. You grumbled in response to loosing against.

“Well I can’t lie that was pretty good ten ten”

You guys logged off for the night. And as soon as the call ended Tomura clicked on the link as fast as possible. The link led him to your stream account it was as he imagined all pastel and pinky it was so you . The brightness stung in his eyes but he was too eager to look away. You were at almost 350k follows how has he never seen you. Well looking through you content you did play games you two liked to play but the majority of you content was games he wasn’t too familiar with. He clicked on one of your videos. The latest one of your streams. You greeted you viewers with a little wave and that cute smile of yours. He couldn’t look away. He had to have you…

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 19) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18

Chapter 19

You pitch forward, but Tomura’s there to catch you, and for a moment, everything’s right where it should be. You’re home. You didn’t leave him. He won’t let you fall. For a single split second, you let yourself believe things will be okay. Then one of Tomura’s hands brushes over an open wound and you cry out. When he pulls his hand back, his palm is shiny with blood. Tomura looks at his hand, then looks at you, and you see his eyes widen – first in horror, then in rage.

“You thought I’d blame them?” he asks his conjurer. “You think I’m weak. You thought I was stupid, too? You’re the one who tried to take my human away.”

He’s trying to put his arm around you, but you’re bloody from shoulder to knee. There’s next to nowhere he can touch that won’t hurt you, and with every second that passes, his anger grows, until he’s practically vibrating with fury. “I wouldn’t dream of taking your human from you,” Shigaraki says to Tomura. “On the contrary, I want to ensure that you keep her forever – without having to make any unnecessary changes to yourself!”

“What?”

Tomura sounds baffled. “Nomu,” you mumble. You seize the hand that’s been searching for a place to hold you and press it to your cheek. “He wants to make me a Nomu.”

“Think about it,” Tomura’s conjurer says. “As a Nomu, she’d be much less breakable. Much less mortal, too. All that effort you’ve put in to understand her – this way, she’d understand you. The process was nearly complete when she left to return to you.”

“Escaped.”

“It wouldn’t take much,” the conjurer says, like you didn’t speak at all. He’s coming closer. “It could be done in a matter of hours. If you wish it.”

“If I wish it,” Tomura repeats. Your blood turns to ice.

“Of course,” the conjurer says. “As I said, I’ve neglected you all these years. I’ll do what I must to make it right.”

Tomura’s thinking about it. Is he thinking about it? You don’t know. “You idiot,” Dabi shouts. “She wouldn’t be your human anymore. She’d be something else, and he’d own her just like he owns you!”

“Look what’s been done to her,” Shirakumo says, his voice low and quiet. “I know what it’s like. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

“Do you truly believe they have your best interests at heart, Tomura?” Shigaraki asks. “They’ll do anything to keep you trapped here, using your power for their own protection. You’ll be a slave to their fear forever. I’m offering you freedom.”

“At a cost.”

It’s Aizawa’s voice. He’s the only human who’s spoken up since you crossed the property line, and he speaks again, his voice perfectly calm. Not to the conjurer. To Tomura. “It comes at a cost,” he says again. “Neither you nor he will be the one to pay it.”

You still have Tomura’s hand pressed against your cheek. He looks at you, then at his other hand, smeared with your blood. You see fury flash in his eyes. Then he turns away, putting his back to the street, pulling you with him. “Spinner,” he says, and Spinner hurries forward. Tomura shifts you from leaning against him to leaning against Spinner. “I need both hands to clear this level.”

He’s not going to give you to his conjurer. He was never going to. Spinner ushers you away, pulling you over to where the noncombatants seem to be huddled – Himiko, Eri, Jin’s youngers siblings. Tomura, meanwhile, materializes fully, cutting off his conjurer’s access to the world between as he starts down the steps. “You were gone too long, Master,” he says. “There’s nothing you have that I want.”

“Yes, come here. Let me see you. I – ugh.” The conjurer makes a disgusted noise. “Now I see where my brother’s spirit went after it ceased to trouble me. You look like him. I’m aware you can’t control how you look when you embody yourself, but – forgive me. It’s quite frustrating.”

“I don’t care who you think I look like.” Tomura stops at the edge of the yard, just prior to the gate. “I’m pretty. My human said so.”

He sounds so proud of himself, and your heart leaps. Even the fact that half your neighborhood is laughing semi-hysterically doesn’t check your joy. You twist in Spinner’s arms, catching a glimpse of the conjurer standing on the opposite side of the gate. He looks horrible. Whatever energy the bracelet released when it broke, it looked like it scalded him, or boiled him, peeling back his skin until his face is nearly devoid of features. He’s looking at Tomura blankly, completely nonplussed. He looks like he doesn’t know what to do.

Finally he clears his throat and speaks again. “You’re quite possibly the most powerful being in this world. Is this – protecting this single neighborhood, and that particular human – truly all you intend to do with it? Is that the extent of your will?”

“No. This is.” Tomura crouches, sets his hands on the ground, and your fence blows apart for the third time this year.

That’s not all that happens. The ground shakes. You feel everything around you ripple and shift, and you hear Dabi swear loudly. Eri and Himiko are both cheering. You look around for answers and find Spinner staring, slack-jawed. “He said he could. I didn’t think he’d actually do it –”

“Do what?”

“Expand the boundaries of his power by force.” Aizawa’s got his gun. “His spirit is still tied to the property, but the entire neighborhood is now within reach of his abilities.”

“That means he can do more to all of them,” Shinsou says. He’s hunkered down with the other kids, but he doesn’t look like he likes it. “Except it means it’s easier for them to get to us, too.”

Jin’s mom steps out of your house. She’s holding a baseball bat and her expression is grim. “Go inside,” she tells her children, and most of them get up and hurry through the door. She looks at you. “Look after them. We’ll do the rest.”

You want to say that you’ll fight, too, but you can barely stand. There’s no way you’ll be anything but a liability. “I can fight,” Himiko protests.

“Me, too!” Shinsou gets to his feet. “We’re way outnumbered. You need us! We can help.”

Aizawa and Jin’s mom trade a glance. “Fine,” Aizawa says. “Himiko, back up Dabi. Shinsou, back up Shirakumo. Don’t engage anyone on your own. Understood?”

Himiko nods and takes off, pulling a knife out of absolutely nowhere. Shinsou casts about for a weapon, picks up a shovel that’s leaning against the house, and takes off, too. With nothing else to do, and Aizawa and Jin’s mom already taking up defensive positions in the yard, you herd Jin’s remaining siblings into the house. Eri’s already inside. She’s in Phantom’s crate, with Phantom. Phantom is whining, a low, continuous sound of distress, but when she spots you, she rockets to her feet, trampling Eri in an effort to get to you. You sink down to the floor, trying to greet her without getting any of your wounds stepped on.

From outside the window, you hear the conjurer’s voice. “Remarkable work, Tomura! But you don’t need to be so gentle with the use of your power.”

“Don’t worry.” Tomura’s voice is flat and icy. “I won’t be gentle on you at all.”

The air temperature plummets, inside the house and outside of it, and you hear the first set of screams rise. You’re seized with a desperation to see the fight, to see Tomura and make sure he’s okay, but you’ve got the kids and Phantom you’re responsible for. You rack your brains, trying to think of where the safest place to hide them will be. Finally you settle on the corner of the room, along the same wall as the front window. No one who peers in will be able to see them easily, and it’s a straight shot from here through the kitchen to the back door in case you need to get out in a hurry. Jin’s siblings, usually raucous, are quiet and scared. Eri’s the most agitated of the group, so you put her in charge of Phantom to give her something to do. And then you drag yourself across the floor again so you can peer out the window.

It looks like someone’s unleashed hell. The scene is eerily lit with flashes of blue fire, and you can see wisps of essence drifting through the air. Too many of them. At least two ghosts are already dead.

You search the battlefield, picking out every live ghost or ghost-adjacent on your side – Shirakumo, Natsu, Nemuri, Dabi, Tomura. They’re all here, although in Tomura’s case, here is a relative term. He’s almost fully materialized, but not quite. That’s not good. He needs to materialize fully if he wants to cut off his conjurer’s access to his power. Does he need to be dematerialized to access his own power? You should have asked, or somebody should have. If he can’t fight –

But he can fight. A ghost comes within reach and Tomura seizes them, blows them apart, adding more shreds of essence to the icy breeze. The next opponent is an embodied ghost. Tomura hits them hard enough to cave in their chest, then tosses them away. He didn’t drain them, even though draining them would have been faster. Why?

“He can’t,” Eri says quietly. “He wants to be like us. If he drains somebody he will be.”

And if he does, his conjurer will kill you all. The others are holding their own in the fight, but when you watch Tomura carefully, you realize that he’s stepping in to save them when they get in over their heads. That’s why he’s not fully materialized. When he’s incorporeal, his reach is longer. He can get to the others before they even know they’re in danger. “Knock it off,” Dabi snaps. “Quit stealing my kills.”

“Be faster, then.” Invisible hands grab Dabi’s current opponent, yank them backwards off their feet, and smash them face-first into the ground. It must be a live ghost, because they explode into a cloud of essence, and they don’t come back. “I’ll do this by myself if I have to.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to,” Hizashi hollers from somewhere out of sight. You can’t see him, but you see dark liquid spray up, and you decide not to think too hard about what it is. “Focus on your own fight! He’s – fuck! Nem, watch out!”

You don’t see what happens, but you see Nemuri sprint through your field of vision, clearly in full retreat. “Quit screwing around! Do it now!”

Tomura materializes fully. You always know when he’s done it, because you always see him stagger slightly when his feet hit the ground. Shigaraki tsks from somewhere nearby. “You think that will save you? Why do you think I brought so many of my friends?” he asks. You feel the ground shake, once and then again. “You can access the world between even while wearing that weak form. Show me what you’re capable of!”

The thing that appears from the shadows is enormous. You’re not sure if it’s a Nomu or just another ghost, but it towers over the rest of them, dwarfing Tomura so badly that he looks like a child’s plaything compared to it. You watch Tomura brace himself, hands outstretched to make contact, but the thing swats his hands aside. Then it seizes him around the waist and clenches its hand into a fist.

You scream in horror. You can’t help it when you see the spray of blood that exits Tomura’s mouth, the way his head falls back, eyes blank and bloody, features gone slack. The monster squeezes harder, then gives a vicious shake, and you swear you can hear his neck snap. Tomura might be the one crushed to death in the monster’s grip, but you’re struggling to breathe. “Tomura –”

Improbably, agonizingly, his head turns in the direction of your voice. Then he dematerializes, leaving the monster with an empty, bloodstained hand.

“He’s okay,” Eri whispers to you, but you don’t believe her. Tomura materializes fully again, just out of reach of the monster, but he looks shaken. You’ve never seen him look like that before. “See, he’s okay! He’s –”

This time, Tomura dodges one of the giant’s hands only to get grabbed by the other. It seizes him with the other hand, too. Then it tears him in half.

He can feel things when he’s materialized. You know that. Some things feel good and some things feel bad, and as you watch the monster destroy his physical form again and again, you’re sick with horror at how much it must hurt. You watch him die three times, five times, twelve times, his limbs torn off, his skull crushed, his body mangled beyond repair. Every time he materializes again whole, he looks worse. Not marked by what’s happened before. Tortured by it, haunted by it, until the monster seizes him and it begins again.

You can’t look away. Some part of you feels like you owe it to him not to. If you can’t help, if all you can do is sit and watch, at least you can let him know you’re here.

The monster throws him to the ground and stomps on him until his body disintegrates into a puddle of tissue and shattered bones, and he doesn’t reappear quickly. Second after second ticks past without him materializing again. Then a familiar rush of cold comes over you, and when you look away from the window, you find Tomura crouched beneath it.

He looks awful, sick and sweaty and pale, and when you reach for him, you can feel how badly he’s shaking. You pull him into your arms and hold on tight, ignoring the bright flare of pain from your wounds when he slumps against you, when he hugs you back even harder. There’s no time for a kiss. There’s not even time to speak. Just a split second of contact that leaves your skin damp with his cold sweat and his shirt stained with your blood, before he dematerializes and reappears outside the house.

The giant swings for him again, but this time it misses – and it misses its second swing, too. Tomura’s gotten his feet under him, and he’s moving faster than he was before, so fast that your eyes can’t track him. It makes your head hurt to try. You squeeze your eyes shut for a split second, only for them to fly open when you hear the sound of glass shattering right next to your head. You open your eyes and find an embodied ghost leering down at you.

You struggle to your feet, trying to stay between the ghost and the kids, trying to figure out how permanent the embodiment is. You strike out towards his face and see him flinch – but he doesn’t blink. Fully embodied, which means you don’t have to worry about being drained, which means you need to fight. You’re not a good fighter by any means, and you’re worse now, courtesy of every other horrible thing that’s happened today. When the ghost strikes at you, you’re too slow to dodge, and he knocks you sprawling across the floor.

You have to get up. The kids. You have to get up so you can protect the kids, but when you try to rise, the ghost kicks you in the ribs and knocks you back again. “Go on,” he says, leering down at you. “Call for help. Call him.”

You seal your mouth shut. If you didn’t scream for Tomura to save you while his conjurer was torturing you, there’s no way you’re going to do it here. The ghost draws his foot back to kick again, only to yelp and stagger as Phantom bites down hard on his other ankle, shaking and snarling until he loses his footing. She’s not the only one trying to help. Eri’s hitting the ghost in every spot she can reach, her tiny fists balled up and her face twisted with rage.

“No!” she shouts. One of her blows catches the ghost in the groin and he nearly falls. That’s your opening. You crawl across the floor, heading for the fireplace and the fire poker hanging from a hook on the wall. “No! You’re not supposed to be here! Go away!”

Her voice rises to a shriek, and you hear an odd, strangled sound. You twist around and freeze, struggling to grasp what you’re seeing. The ghost is – shrinking. From an adult to a teenager to a child to an infant, and finally to nothing, vanishing out of Eri’s grip completely. Eri looks surprised, then pleased with herself. “I didn’t know I could still do that!”

She scrambles across the floor to you and starts patting your head. “It’s okay! I got him! You don’t need that.”

You grab the fire poker anyway, your mind still reeling. “Is that how you – got people before?”

Eri nods importantly. Then her eyes brighten. “I have to go!” she announces, and before you can stop her, she bolts out the front door. “Tomura! I have something for you!”

You want to tell her not to distract him, but then he crashes through the porch roof, sprawled out with wooden spars protruding from his torso, his shoulder, his mouth. He dematerializes, then reappears, and Eri seizes one of his hands. “Here!” she says, and you see something pass from her hand to his. “I helped! Go!”

Tomura nods in thanks and disappears off the porch at lightning speed, while you pour all your energy into getting ahold of Eri and pulling her back inside. Eri goes willingly. “I have to tell Himiko,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut. “Maybe she can do it too.”

You vaguely remember Hizashi saying something about how Eri had massive untapped powers as a ghost. Somehow she figured out a way to pass off a human-sized dose of life-force to Tomura without requiring him to drain anybody, and when you peer out the broken window, you see Hizashi dart past the giant as it pursues Tomura, slapping Tomura in the back of the head on the way. Tomura turns to snarl at him, but when he steps back out of the giant’s range, he’s notably faster. Hizashi can still drain people, maybe. But there’s another live ghost in the equation who can do the same, and Nemuri dips in next, tapping Tomura’s shoulder before dematerializing.

You don’t see where she goes, but the giant staggers, howling in pain. You look to Eri, wondering if she knows. “He’s a Nomu,” she says by way of explanation. “She’s in his heart.”

You remember what Rumi did to the conjurer’s henchman she caught and feel like you’re going to be sick. The giant reaches into its own chest, trying to remove Nemuri, and blood oozes out, spattering the grass, the fence, everyone fighting in the yard and on the street. It stumbles, then stumbles again, and its shadow falls over your house.

If it falls on you, you’re all dead. “Get out of there!” Aizawa shouts. You yell for the kids, grab Phantom, and bolt into the yard once the others are out.

Nemuri and Tomura have gone from trying to kill the giant to trying to stop it from crushing the house, and the two Nomu jump in to help. For a second you’re confused about why they’d want to protect the house at all, but then you remember that even with extending his power over the neighborhood, Tomura’s still strongest inside the property line. If the house is destroyed, there’s nothing at all to stop the conjurer from coming through.

Where is the conjurer, anyway? A chill that’s got nothing to do with the high concentration of ghosts in the area runs down your spine. You turn just in time to see the conjurer step through your front gate.

Aizawa spots him, shoots him, his aim solid even with one eye. But Tomura’s incorporeal, pushing the boundaries of his power to try to contain the falling giant, which means the conjurer shrugs off the shot like it’s nothing. Then he slips into the crowd, weaving in between the combatants, making it impossible for Aizawa to shoot him without the risk of hitting someone on your side. Aizawa snarls, turns to deal with another opponent, and you set off.

You take the kids to hide. There aren’t very many good places to hide, but anywhere the giant isn’t is a good place to be. You find Keigo and tap his shoulder just after he’s finished knocking out an embodied ghost, leaving them easy prey for Natsu. In retrospect this wasn’t your brightest idea. He swings a crowbar at your head and almost knocks you out, checking his swing at the last minute. “Don’t do that! Why are you walking around? You should be –”

“I need you to take them and help them hide.” You gesture at the children. “In your house. I don’t know. Just get them out of here.”

Keigo stares at you. “And what are you going to do?”

“I have to get to him. The conjurer.” Your legs go weak when you think about what you’re planning to do, but you lean on the fire poker and stay on your feet. “I’m the only one he has a reason not to kill. I can get close. If I time it right –”

Keigo doesn’t need you to finish the sentence. He nods and turns to the kids. “We’re gonna cross the street and go hang out at my place, okay? Let’s go.”

Eri hesitates, but she eventually follows Keigo and Jin’s siblings. You force yourself upright, tighten your grip on the fire poker, and start off through the crowd in search of Tomura’s conjurer.

You’ll only get one strike to bring him down. It’ll have to do the job, and courtesy of Garaki, whatever inhibition you had against hitting another person with the intent to kill them is long gone. All you have to do is picture what’s happened to Tomura since Shigaraki got here, and you see red. One hit to stun him, and then as many more as it takes, until he’s dead and Tomura’s safe and this is over for good.

Shigaraki must be trying to stay hidden. With Tomura materialized for most of the fight, his conjurer’s access to the world between is cut off, which means he won’t be able to defend himself if one of the Nomus on your side comes for him. You can’t defend yourself, either. Where would you hide?

The house. The house is the best shelter there is if one isn’t worried about the giant, and the conjurer probably thinks you’re still in there. You look towards the house and spot him climbing the front steps. His back is to you. Tomura’s materialized, darting around the back of the house to evade the giant. Now’s your chance. You renew your grip on the fire poker one last time and set off at an unsteady run, ducking around fights where you’re beneath the combatants’ notice. Originally your plan was to hit him in the head, just like you did to Garaki, but as you close the distance between the two of you, you realize that you don’t have the strength or the balance for a swing. There’s a sharp point on the fire poker. That’s what you’ll use.

You remember thinking, when you were deciding how to attack Garaki, that you couldn’t stab someone. That’s changed. You make it two steps up the short staircase to the porch, lose your footing, and fall forward against the conjurer’s back, getting your makeshift spear into position just in time. Your momentum does most of the work. The fire poker stabs into the conjurer’s back, sinking in to the base of the spike. You apply the last of your strength and shove it the rest of the way, fighting the resistance of muscle and bone until you’ve run him through.

Blood gushes from the wound, soaking you all over again, and Shigaraki Akira lets out a pained grunt. It’s a much quieter sound than you’d make if you’d just been stabbed, and it’s the first sign that something’s gone wrong. The next is when the handle of the fire poker is yanked out of your grasp, pulled into the conjurer’s body. He’s pulling it through, hand over hand, until it exits his body on the other side.

You stumble, losing your footing, and fall backwards down the steps as Shigaraki Akira turns to face you, fire poker in hand. Blood is running from his mouth, but he’s smiling at you, and as you watch in terror, the wound in his chest closes completely. “Excellent try, but your timing was poor,” he says. He tosses the fire poker down the steps to clatter at your feet. “Why not try again?”

You should. Just because Tomura was incorporeal when you stabbed Shigaraki this time around doesn’t mean he will be the next time, but when you reach for the fire poker, you can’t close your fingers around it. The hard landing feels like it’s jarred some circuit loose in your brain, and you can barely move. The pain’s flooding back in, too, and suddenly you’re struck by the futility of it all. Even if you pick it up, even if you fight again, you’ve lost the element of surprise. He’s bigger and stronger than you. You don’t see how you can do anything but lose.

Shigaraki leers. “You spent all your will on one strike,” he says. He’s coming down the steps towards you. You shuffle backwards, but not fast enough. “Shimura’s farewell gift helped you escape my purpose for you before, but it won’t do so again. This won’t take but a moment.”

He reaches down and seizes you around your throat, hauling you to your knees one-handed. His other hand reaches out and snags a passing ghost, yanking them out of their embodiment in a single smooth movement. You can see the spirit twisting in his grip as his hold on you shifts, forcing your head back and your mouth open. “It’s a shame Rumi escaped. She would have suited you and Tomura better,” he says. You bite down on his fingers to no effect, and he grips your jaw tighter in response. “But this will do. Don’t struggle, now. There’s no need when you’ve given up already. Just – swallow.”

Something cold brushes your lips, then the back of your tongue, something that squirms and wriggles horrendously as it tries to escape. You raise your arms and try to pry the conjurer’s hand off your jaw, but his grip is iron, and it’s getting hard to breathe. He’s going to force the ghost down your throat, turn you into a Nomu, and you won’t be you anymore – and there’s nothing you can do. You can’t pull his hand free. You’re reduced to scratching at his knuckles as you choke on the ghost he’s trying to bind to you.

His grip on your jaw tightens past the point of pain. “Don’t struggle,” he instructs you again. “Just –”

Something plows into him from one side, moving too fast for you to track it. You sprawl out on the ground, coughing up what little essence you were forced to swallow, and the ghost he was trying to force-feed to you vanishes in a split second. You’d run if you could, too. Instead you struggle to pick your face up out of the dirt to see what’s happened to the conjurer.

The giant’s gone and Nemuri is nowhere to be found, but Tomura’s on his feet. He’s standing over the conjurer, eyes blazing but curiously blank. His shirt hangs in tatters. His blue-grey hair’s gone white. The very air around you is crackling with the evidence of his power.

The conjurer looks at him, what’s left of his mouth curving into a broad smile. “Well done, Tomura,” he says. “You’ve claimed your power at last. Dispense with the others.”

Tomura doesn’t move, but all around you, enemy ghosts and Nomus burst apart into clouds of essence, until the entire neighborhood hangs under a heavy fog. The only ghosts left are the permanently embodied ones, who promptly bolt. Tomura lets them go. The conjurer gets to his feet, grimacing slightly, but once he’s standing, he smiles for Tomura. “Now put an end to all of this,” he says. “Destroy the house.”

Tomura looks towards the house. He extends one hanz, and for a moment, you’re convinced he’ll destroy it. The conjurer’s right – it was a prison. Maybe it’s always been a prison to him, even if it was home to you. Then a vicious smile comes to Tomura’s face. He turns away from the house and seizes his conjurer by the throat. “I think I’ll destroy you.”

His conjurer doesn’t answer. That smile is still on his face, and you see Tomura’s eyes widen in surprise a moment later. He’s materialized. His conjurer has no access to the world between through him. So why is he hesitating? You see something crawling across the conjurer’s skin and blink hard as you try to get a handle on it. When you realize what it is, your stomach turns.

It’s essence. Tomura’s conjurer is covered in clouds of ghostly essence. Was he always like that? No, you would have noticed during the time he spent torturing you. You were out of it, but not enough to miss something like that. You see Tomura frown, shake his head. A wave of cold sweeps through the neighborhood, instantly coating everything in a sheen of frost and ice, but the conjurer only laughs. “You’ve already broken them. They can’t be blown apart smaller than this, and the neighborhood is full of the remains of your enemies. Even if you could destroy them, I’ll always have more.”

The scraps of essence are beginning to move, crawling over Tomura’s hand, and he draws back, revulsion on his face. The conjurer gestures, and the fog you saw hovering over the neighborhood descends. Where it touches a ghost, embodied or not, they recoil. When it touches a human, like you, the cold begins to burrow through your skin. You’ve got a lot of open wounds. It doesn’t have far to go before it hits bone.

You don’t want to scream, but as the cold begins to writhe beneath your skin, you can’t help it – and you’re not the only one. Human or Nomu or ghost, it doesn’t matter. Whether the scraps of essence trigger a response of disgust or agony, all you and the others can do is scream for it to stop, and the conjurer’s voice rises above it all. “This stops when you decide it does, Tomura. You can’t destroy me the way you wish to. Destroy the house, and I’ll let them go.”

“No, you won’t.” Tomura looks miserable. “I can see inside your head. You won’t let them go as long as you think you can control me with them. I know what you think I won’t do.”

“If you do what I ask of you, you’ll find I’m very reasonable,” Shigaraki Akira says. “I’ll have no reason to hurt them if you comply.”

But he will. Every time he thinks Tomura won’t do what he wants, he’ll hurt you all until Tomura bows to his will. The question of whether Tomura cares about the neighborhood has been settled for good – he does care. Enough that he’d give in to his conjurer to protect you all. “I don’t believe you,” Tomura says. His hand closes around his conjurer’s throat again. “And I’ll destroy you however I have to.”

Garaki had the chance to speak, but Shigaraki Akira doesn’t. You see a split second of shock on his misshapen features before he begins to disintegrate at the throat.

It’s fast and mercilessly simple. Tomura drains his conjurer to death at lightning speed, scattering essence into the air, and as the empty set of clothes falls to the ground, you see Tomura’s feet touch the mostly-dead grass in your front yard. There’s the little stagger he always does when he lands, like he’s not quite used to being on solid ground. And then the world begins to bend and warp around him, midair tearing open just behind him. A rush of cold sweeps over you again, a thousand times worse than anything you’ve felt from Tomura or any other ghost. It’s the world between. It’s pulling him back in.

Tomura’s body begins to fray, strips of skin peeling off and being sucked into the rift behind him, a moment before it yanks him off his feet entirely. In a split second he’s nearly swallowed whole. All that’s left of him is one hand reaching out, grasping uselessly at the air, seeking something, anything, to hold onto.

You move without conscious thought. You throw yourself forward and seize Tomura’s hand in both of yours, one hand closing around his palm and the other around his wrist. You don’t know if you can stop this. If there’s any way to stop this at all. But you know for a fact that you’re not going to let go of him. Wherever he goes, you’re going there, too. Tomura’s hand grips yours just as tightly. His knuckles have gone white. And his hand is warm.

Another set of hands covers yours and you nearly jump out of your skin. When you look to your right, you find Spinner crouched next to you. He gives you a strained smile and tightens his grip on you, and on Tomura. “You gotta hang on,” he shouts at Tomura. “I heard there’s a shiny Giratina in the new Pokémon game.”

You almost laugh. You would laugh if you couldn’t feel the cold leaking out of the world between. Another set of warm hands closes onto you, one around your wrist, one reaching further up Tomura’s arm. Himiko’s teeth are bared, either smiling or snarling – you’re not sure which. “Don’t you dare let go,” she says – to Tomura, not to you. “Your human will never forgive you, and neither will I!”

The pull of the world between is getting stronger. It’s dragging on Tomura, and now it’s dragging you, Spinner, and Himiko, pulling you closer to the breach. “Oh no you don’t,” a voice says sweetly, and someone grabs you and Spinner around the waist at once. Magne’s grip is strong as she hauls you both backwards. “Jin, honey, you too!”

Jin is holding onto you and Himiko. He’s pulling hard. With their help, you’re no longer losing ground to the world between – but you’re not making progress, either, and your hands are starting to go numb. An agonized howl issues from somewhere within the rift and your blood turns to ice. He’s hurt. This is hurting him. You have to get him out of there.

You open your mouth to call for help, but before you can, the air is unceremoniously forced out of your lungs as someone bearhugs you from behind. “Hold on,” Kurogiri instructs – not Tomura, but you. Tomura’s nails are scrabbling at the inside of your wrist, but you’re so cold you can barely feel them. “We will do the rest.”

Only Tomura’s forearm was visible before. Now his elbow and his upper arm are free of the rift. There’s another scream from inside it. Someone scurries past you, much closer to the rift than you thought anyone would dare to go, and grabs Tomura by his upper arm. “Pull together,” Atsuhiro shouts at the rest of you, as ice begins to spiral up from the spot where his hands are wrapped around Tomura’s bicep. “Now!”

Tomura’s shoulder emerges from the rift, but even as you pull him free, his grip on your hand is weakening. You tighten yours in response. “Hang on,” you beg him. “Come on, don’t do this. Hang on!”

Another yank and his head is free, but something’s wrong. He’s not conscious. His head is hanging forward, his hair in his eyes, and even when you say his name, he doesn’t stir. You keep pulling, and so does everybody else, but once you’ve freed his torso, the world between fights back. Even with all seven of you struggling to free him, you can’t win. Tomura’s hand is almost entirely limp in yours.

Himiko notices, too. She raises her voice. “Help!”

Who’s going to help you? Everybody who’s ever shown they care about Tomura is already here, fighting to steal him back from the world between. You know Aizawa won’t intervene. You wouldn’t be surprised if Hizashi tried to push Tomura back in. Who’s left? Keigo’s watching the kids. You don’t know where Nemuri is. Jin’s mom – Natsu – nobody. This is who you have. You’re not enough.

“Fuck,” Dabi explodes from somewhere behind you. You barely have time to tighten your grip on Tomura before a pair of burning-hot hands lock onto your forearm and haul you backwards.

You can smell your own flesh burning, but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters, because eight of you are enough. One final yank, all of you pulling together, and Tomura tears free of the rift, falling forward into the pile of rescuers and landing mostly on top of you.

“Ew, he’s naked!” Himiko scrambles backwards, and everybody else follows, as you shift Tomura off of you and onto his back. He’s definitely naked, whatever remained of his clothes torn away in the effort to free him from the world between, and his body’s a mess. There are patches of burns and frostbite, bleeding fractures in his dry skin, his lips split and bloody. His eyes are closed. He’s not moving.

“Tomura.” You shake his shoulder, gently at first, then with increasing desperation. “Please. Please wake up.”

His skin is warm. He’s permanently embodied. He’s alive, or he was. You feel for a pulse at his neck, but you don’t know enough about taking pulses to know if you’re even touching the right spot, and your fingers are still numb. Is his chest rising and falling? Your eyes are so blurry with tears that you can barely see, and you blink hard, trying to clear them away. A few droplets roll down your face to splatter on Tomura’s shoulder, his cheek. You keep shaking him, fighting to hold in a sob. You’re injured. You’re in pain. The cold of the world between is in your bones, and none of it hurts as badly as the thought that you’ve lost Tomura for good.

You’re so busy shaking him that you barely notice when he stirs, but you can’t fail to notice the hand that rises, first to brush at his face, then to awkwardly wipe under your eyes. Even then, it barely registers. You think you’re imagining it, that you wished so hard your mind told you it was true. “Don’t leave,” you say, the same words you’ve heard him say so many times. “I need you. Don’t leave me. I –”

“Stop crying on my face.” His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it, but it’s his. You’d know it anywhere. “Don’t be stupid. I’m right here.”

It’s not a dream, or a wish come true. If everything was exactly as you wanted it, the second sentence out of Tomura’s mouth after he embodied himself wouldn’t be “don’t be stupid”, so that’s how you know it’s real. Tomura’s alive. He defeated his own conjurer. He saved everyone. And you, with a whole lot of help from the neighborhood he’s always pretended he hates – you saved him.

It’s okay now. It’ll be okay. You get a split second of pure happiness and relief before the pain floods in, and for the first time since you were dragged out of the conjurer’s torture chamber, your mind gives up the ghost. Tomura’s crimson eyes, staring up into yours, are the last thing you see before everything goes black.

@flamme-furamu

A new life for Tomura part 8

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 12 - Bystander Effect▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤He fucking groans. “See, you could be so good for me, but you always choose to be a mean little bitch instead.”

You shoot him a contempt-filled glare and he just chuckles in return. Shigaraki slips his fingers out of your mouth and wipes your drool against the side of your reddened cheeks in order to further humiliate you.

“Monster,” you croak a whisper and try to look away, but he grabs your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze back on him.

“I thought we already established that?”◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Very Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Past Child Abuse, Bullying, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five • Six • Seven • Eight • Nine • Ten(ko) • Eleven • Twelve • Thirteen Updates every Monday!

Chapter 12 - Bystander Effect

So far, tonight has only been two things—boring and incredibly annoying.

Maybe it was the lack of alcohol in your system and you ought to fix that.

Abandoning the idea of going back to the bar entirely, you head out for the open drinks in the living room, the ones that were available for anyone to roofie. You find a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of coke, and you pour those motherfuckers into a big cup, praying you’ll have a well-deserved blackout in the morning.

You weren’t planning to get wasted before, but you don’t think you can stomach waiting for Taylor to go home without being highly intoxicated anymore and you weren’t about to cut their fun short over some toxic bitches from high school.

Some time passes, allowing the alcohol to properly loosen you up and making the music sound decent enough in the dark room for you to sway your hips next to other strangers. You get lost in the rhythm until you take out your phone, checking for updates from your friend and only seeing random strings of letters they spammed you with.

Taytay – dd ykn w ur th best [Sent 10:19 PM]

Taytay – I f knig lov u nbitch’;’2134 <5 [Sent 10:23 PM]

The stupid messages from your already wasted friend brought warmth to your chest, making you genuinely smile—until someone accidentally bumps into you and knocks you away from the dancing mass, where you caught a glimpse of a strangely familiar looking group, hanging out on the couch not too far away from where you stood.

Feeling dizzy, you try squinting to see better through the flickering party lights, when you finally realize that the person you’re looking at was—Shigaraki?

You swallow. Why was he here?

Next to Shigaraki who was manspreading on the couch, sat Dabi, the Dabi–that you’re semi-sure appeared only because of you manifesting his existence earlier. You’re now ninety percent convinced that he’s the one Mina’s purple haired arm candy downloaded his style and personality from.

But they weren’t alone, no.

Dabi was getting the equivalent of a lap dance from some slutty girl, who in the process of basically riding him, was sinking her hand into Shigaraki’s shoulder, fingers gripping him tightly and him just staring at her grip in a daze. She looked exactly like the type of girl you’d speculated he’d be into, back when you only thought of him as a creep.

Something indescribable courses through your blood, clawing at your heart and twisting in your chest, making you shift your gaze from him to the rest of his group—three more dudes and a blonde chick that looked to be too young to be here—passing blunts and alcohol between the six of them.

All of them were enjoying themselves drinking, smoking, getting high and laughing.

He was laughing.

You’re positive you’ve never seen Shigaraki laugh so freely before, the thought nagging at you for some reason.

He’d seem to snap out of something, grabbing the girl’s hand that was casually sliding closer to his chest, forcefully pulling her into him and whispering something into the girl’s ear with a creepy smile, her almost losing balance off Dabi’s lap if not for the fuckboy’s hands on her hips holding her closer and him angrily shouting something at Shigaraki in return.

It wasn’t a surprise for you to figure out you weren’t special to him, but seeing it in front of your eyes ended up burning like acid. It bothered you enough to look away, emptying the remaining contents of your plastic cup, crumpling it in the process and missing the look of horror on her gorgeous fucking face as you chuck the offending piece of garbage at the floor.

Why would he lie to you? Why go through the trouble of confessing to you, of attempting to fix things with you?

And why the fuck do you care who he fucking toys with?! Shouldn’t you be happy?!

You snap out of your bubbling betrayal when you notice someone from the group waving excitedly in your direction. He shouts something at his friends, handing his smoke and his drink to the blonde chick while you squint to understand what’s going on. Six pairs of eyes start scanning the room until their gaze finally lands in your direction.

Shigaraki’s eyes visibly widen the second he sees you and you look around yourself feeling flustered, counting on a miracle that it wasn’t you they were all fucking looking at.

When you see your arcade friend quickly rushing to get to you, swerving through the mass of bodies, you quickly realize how morbidly wrong you are.

Fuck.

You don’t think you’re ready for another bout of trouble tonight, so you try getting away before your new friend reaches you, hoping—praying, to melt with the crowd and lose them, to pretend like there weren’t two pairs of eyes, angry crimson and amused cerulean, that stared holes through your body.

Unfortunately, your hopes of an escape are cut extremely short when a strong buff arm grabs you by your shoulder, effectively spinning you around and pulling you into a sweaty bear hug.

“Sorry, ‘m tipsy, but I can’t believe I got to see you here!” Iguchi shouts happily through the music and closely into your ear, making you nod your drunk head and trying to make sense of what was happening to you.

You couldn’t return a proper greeting to him, because you spot Shigaraki swiftly cutting through half the room in the blink of an eye, angrily pushing bodies away from him while the rest of his flock hurries to follow behind. Iguchi leans into your vision, pink color spreading over his cheeks and says something to you, but you struggle to focus when you feel the knot in your stomach growing.

When Shigaraki finally reaches you, he violently shoves his own friend to the side, looking angrier than you’ve ever seen him be.

“Fucking my friends now too, huh? Disgusting whore.” He actually spits right in front of your feet and you have to take a step back, nearly getting hit and scrunching your nose in the process.

You look around and see that you’re now surrounded by his circle, people you’ve only heard of from the insane fucking rumors circulating around Shigaraki.

Iguchi looked absolutely bewildered when he regained his balance. “Y-You guys know each other?” was all he could ask.

Shigaraki finally broke the intense eye contact with you and snapped his head to his friend.

“Know each other?” he growled through clenched teeth.

The blonde girl starts jumping excitedly, a sort of unsettling manic look coloring her face. Dabi only smiled at you slyly, standing there, arms crossed and enjoying the show, his little slut in tow.

The fuck? Were all his friends as insane as he was? Surely they could tell a fight was about to break out, and knowing Shigaraki, it was bound to be ugly. Were they not concerned at all? Unless–

Unless that’s exactly the kind of thing they were looking forward to.

You can’t help but feel a tremor in your bones. This was not high school and you weren’t fighting teenagers anymore. These were very much possibly convicted adult criminals standing around you and waiting sadistically for something bad to happen.

And you cannot take Shigaraki in a real fight.

Random people were now also turning their heads, trying to figure out what was going on, eventually pulling out their phones to either text or film the potential shit-show. You realize how badly you’d fucked up to get drunk.

“Answer me, bitch. Are you fucking my friends?” he hissed the question at you, grabbing the fabric of your clothes and pulling you to him, red eyes full of contempt.

“Can you blame her, boss?” a rough low voice spoke up before you could reply and adds, “She was so fucking cute in the store last time, lookin’ at me all starry eyed, weren’t you doll? Let me have her after you.” Dabi coos, sending you a kiss and unnecessarily fanning the flames to stir trouble, completely ignoring the obvious disappointment on his partner for the night.

And it worked like a fucking charm, because Shigaraki looked at you, white knuckling the fabric of your top like he was about to burn this entire building down, together with you in it.

Your head spun so fast—too many voices, too many people, too much shit going wrong tonight.

You’re anxious. You’re pissed. You wanna go home.

You’re tired, you’re tired, you’re tired. You miss your—

He snarls at you, red eyes narrowing and you snap.

“Fucking—ENOUGH!” you scream at the top of your lungs and straight into Shigaraki’s face, making him flinch and loosen his grip. Then you do the only thing your drunk overwhelmed brain could think of—

You slap the absolute living shit out of Shigaraki Tomura.

The entire room—including yourself, gasped in unison.

He completely froze, placing one hand on the burning and rapidly reddening cheek, staring off into space.

You heard his friends giggle and Dabi toppling over in laughter. The only person who was more unamused than yourself and the guy you just humiliated in front of an entire party of people, was Iguchi.

Not only was he unamused, he was shaking, looking absolutely horrified at what you’ve done to his friend.

The music died down completely by now, and you unwillingly became the protagonist of this room.

You try to step away, but your back hits the front of one of Shigaraki’s taller dark-haired friends, who was sporting a smug look that told you, you weren’t going anywhere.

“Uh oh, the creep is gonna snap her neck!” you hear someone shout from the peanut gallery. That comment seemed to wake him up because he lunged forward to grab your arm and started dragging you away with him somewhere—until Taylor drunkenly stepped in to break up whatever this mess was that you got yourself tangled into.

“Ya, okay, enough of that, Crusty!” They clap their hands twice like they were talking to a servant, grabbing Shigaraki’s arm to get him to let go of you.

He forcefully pushes them out of the way, causing your drunk friend to lose their footing and hit the floor hard.

You screeched at him again, kneeing him in the stomach as hard as you could, hearing him groan and finally freeing yourself. Your brain barely registered the blonde chick reaching for something and you saw a glint of familiar shaped metal as you stumbled to get to your friend who was kneeling on the floor, tears running down their face.

Shigaraki looked at his own friend who was gearing up for something and signaling her to stop whatever she was going to do.

Only for you to belatedly realize that she was just about to fucking stab you, had he not intervened.

You swallow emptily, feeling yourself shake and all color draining from your face.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch them again, you—you s-sick, depraved—fucking—fucking assholes!” you sobbed, struggling to help your friend up.

Where were all of Taylor’s useless fucking friends to help when they needed them?

You looked around but all you could see were cold stares everywhere you looked. Nobody lifted a finger.

Nobody dared to cross him.

A familiar sound of a deranged giggle cut straight through the silence like a knife. Your eyes shifted to the direction of the sound only to find red irises filled to the brim with unadulterated glee, staring right back at you.

Shigaraki felt something going off in his brain the moment he saw your adorably lost and confused face looking for help.

You’re finally, finally realizing it, aren’t you?

He walked over to you, sinking on one knee and you cursed yourself for wearing this stupid fucking outfit and leaving your pepper spray at home. You consider opting to violence for a second, but one look into his terrifying eyes has you second-guessing yourself long enough that he reaches forward first.

Shigaraki grabs you by your hair and gets up, forcing you to let go of your friend as you were dragged on your feet. Taylor whimpered from somewhere beneath you, but his tense grip wouldn’t allow you to turn your head and look.

You’ve never seen him look like this. He didn’t just look angry, he looked fucking savage.

The speechless crowd and his cruel but amused friends, split and made way for him with you in tow as if it was Moses himself, parting the red fucking sea.

You were too dizzy from the alcohol and the roots in your head burned too hard to be able to tell exactly, but you think you climbed a few stairs, walked a little more and suddenly you were shoved into a room with him right behind you.

Two strangers were caught in the act, but a quick look of recognition over Shigaraki’s form and a short barked order from him were enough for them to fuck off faster than you could yell for help.

He was right. You did finally realize.

You finally realized why everyone was so incredibly terrified of him. Why people whispered behind his back whenever he was around, but cowered if he were to give them a dirty look. Why there were so many insane rumors surrounding him and his shitty friends.

You finally realized that… those weren’t fucking rumors.

Hearing the telltale click of a door locking and seeing him turning to you has your brain beginning to sober up quickly. The only light that was barely illuminating this room came from a yellow colored bedside lamp.

“Let’s talk, hm?”

“You literally said—No, you promised!” you choked out, “You fucking promised you wouldn’t try to hurt me anymore,” you say, sobbing, fat fucking tears rolling down your cheeks, leaving behind dark trails of ruined mascara.

“So I lied. Now answer my fucking questions,” he growls, patience running thin. ”Did you think it was fun, telling me you liked me? Making me run around like some idiot?”

Shigaraki steps forward.

What? When did you ever tell him—

The phone call.

“What the hell are you talking—You! You’re ruining any chances of reconciliation with me, with every fucking second—” your voice cracks, “W-With every second that I’m locked in this fucking room with you, Shigaraki.”

He chooses to ignore you at first, taking another step in your direction.

“That’s fine.” He smiled. “Maybe you were right for once.” His fingers reached the back of his neck, rubbing it thoughtfully and humming as he moved in your direction, more self-assured than you’ve ever seen him be.

“Maybe I am done playing nice.”

“That so? Color me surprised.” You roll your eyes, unable to push your growing anxiety away.

He however doesn’t stop stalking towards you so you begin stepping back, but the back of your knees meet with the edge of someone’s bed.

You glanced behind you nervously.

“S-So what now,” you look back at him and huff. “Gonna rape me? Teach me a lesson?”

He chuckles, amused by your stupid question.

“No,” he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, placing a hand squarely on your sternum and effortlessly shoves you back.

You fall gracelessly on top of the bed, immediately grimacing knowing that someone else’s bare, sweaty ass was exactly where the back of your head now rested.

“Now, we’re going to talk.”

“Yeah? Well you better talk fast, because people—” you stuttered, feeling angry, scared and ashamed, “B-Because people—Because Taylor will call the fucking cops on you.”

And the fucking second you finish babbling your empty threats, you hear the party come alive once again, music blaring and vibrating through however many layers of brick separated you from the main room.

You cursed under your breath.

“Are they now?”

“Shigaraki, stop.”

“You look fucking adorable when you’re scared of me, did you know? Gets me reaaally hard,” he fucking moans as he shamelessly starts palming himself through his jeans. You couldn’t help but glance at his hand anxiously.

The warm dim light made him look nothing short of a beautiful, ethereal monster.

“Stop, stop, stop. Don’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me,” you chant uselessly as you screwed your wet eyes shut, trying to get away from him as much as possible, but he only reveled at the sound of your desperate pleas.

Yes—fucking yes, at last.

He cracked a wide grin. The only regret on his mind is not doing this to you sooner. It was so much more efficient using terror to break you down and make you his, compared to the previous pathetic attempts at getting you to want to be with him.

He could barely hold back his delight. You were so close.

Shigaraki climbs up your legs, effectively straddling you and patiently observing your reaction.

“I said relax, idiot,” he rasps, but the way he reached his hand out and used his dry, rough knuckles to slowly brush the side of your cheek, did absolutely nothing to help you relax. The touch felt like warm sandpaper and you couldn’t help but squirm under it. “We’re just going to talk.”

His fingers uncurl, exploring the planes of your soft face, the pads running gently over the bridge of your nose all the way to your lips—and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was admiring you by the slightly dazed look in his eyes. The same dazed look he gave that whore.

Shigaraki pushes his index finger into your mouth and you go ahead and bite it hard enough to leave a deep reddened dent. He just smiles and forces a second one in.

“Sho fuhkin’ tawk then,” you mumble around his salty fingers, words coming out funny and making you feel even more humiliated. You placed both of your hands against his firm chest, looking for a semblance of separation from him—any sort of false security.

His sinister smile spread even wider before he leaned in so close to your ear that you could feel his breath fanning against it. “Did you know that you have a lot of weak exploitable points?” he asks, biting his lower lip and pulling back just enough for you to look him in the eyes.

Gone were any traces of his softness from the time before tonight—all replaced by what looked like honest malice and bitter spite towards you.

The only thing you could reply with was a pathetic whimper.

“Your scholarship, the filthy fucking videos of you letting some lowlife scumbag fuck you.” He grimaced while he spat out the second part, but his wicked smile quickly returned to his lips. “Your…past,” Shigaraki says with an upward lilt in his tone, taking his fingers out and resting them on the top of your lips, allowing for your reaction.

“What?! How did you—”

His giggles cut you off. “People talk. You’d be surprised how easily they give me what I want, once they feel threatened,” he tells you, voice dark and foreboding.

You wanted to rebuke him, but the second your mouth opened again, he slipped his spit-covered fingers all the way to the back of your throat, the brusqueness prompting you to gag ugly around them.

Your hands try to reach for his wrist and push it away, but he was stronger and he was faster. He clicks his tongue at your disobedience, using his free grip to grab both of your hands, effortlessly pinning them to the side of your head in an uncomfortably forced position.

Was every time you could push him around just for show? And are you seriously only realizing that now?

Shigaraki waits for your breathing to slow, before he begins tormenting you by pumping his long bony fingers in and out of your mouth in a sickeningly slow manner. The sound of you gagging over and over and the wet sloppy squelches of your mouth were echoing in the room, complemented by the dampened party music and the sounds of his feral breathing.

“Ugh!” You try to get away from him, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Shhh, I’ve seen you take worse. Good girl,” he cooed with his face close to yours, gaze fixated on the way your mouth clung to his fingers. You cringed when you felt him lick a long disgusting stripe from the bottom of your cheek all the way to the source of the trail of bitter tears.

He fucking groans. “See, you could be so good for me, but you always choose to be a mean little bitch instead.”

You shoot him a contempt-filled glare and he just chuckles in return. Shigaraki slips his fingers out of your mouth and wipes your drool against the side of your reddened cheeks in order to further humiliate you.

“Monster,” you croak a whisper and try to look away, but he grabs your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze back on him.

“I thought we already established that?”

You spit in his face, making him flinch.

Catching him off-guard seemed like a privilege today, so you quickly free yourself from his grip the moment his hand was loose enough.

Before he can take that freedom away, you grab his shirt with one hand and your fist flies towards his face using whatever leverage you had in this position.

Now or never.

“You little–!” he growls at you, unfortunately dropping his entire weight on top of your body before your punch could connect, causing you to only be able to uselessly smack the top part of his shoulder.

He slides his arms to grab yours and uses bruising force to render them useless at the sides of your head. “Are you trying to piss me off today?” he barks at you angrily, getting halfway up to shift one of his knees on top of your stomach and pressing his weight into it.

“Urk—” you almost literally vomit from the pressure, but he lets up before you can.

“Are you going to behave now and listen to what I say, or are you going to keep being difficult?”

Difficult? You were being difficult? You’d laugh if this wasn’t quickly going up the ranks as one of the worst nights of your life. Instead, you just roll your eyes, as if you weren’t a quivering mess. As if he wasn’t scaring you.

Shigaraki’s gaze narrows. He thought he was closer to breaking you, but you obviously still had a lot of fight left in you. He supposes you’ve been through worse, so maybe he had to truly outmatch your greatest monsters.

He decided he’ll start easy.

“Answer my question, slut. The next time you don’t answer me, I’ll have to start punishing you,” he grunted but you remained defiantly quiet.

Shigaraki huffed, lifting his knee away from your sensitive stomach, earning him a relieved exhale from you—that quickly turned into alarm the moment he wedged it between your thighs instead, inches away from your cunt.

He smirked at your horrified expression and began pressing it against you experimentally, drawing out a pathetic whimper.

“Oh?” he breathes into your ear, bending his body to press his knee against your core again.

That, unfortunately, wins him another distressed gasp from you.

“Fuuuck,” he groans in response, momentarily forgetting that this was supposed to be your punishment and reminding you just how much of a depraved virgin he really was.

Which gives you an idea.

You close your eyes and softly grind yourself up against his thigh, all while pretending you didn’t want him to notice. It slightly backfires when you start feeling a little hot, your face slightly scrunching up in pleasure.

When you opened your eyes again, Shigaraki looked a little more disheveled than before.

His vindictive demeanor from seconds ago slightly softened.

“I thought you didn’t want to fuck me?” he throws you a playful grin and you snort.

“You call getting myself off on your leg ‘fucking’ you?”

Something dangerous sparked in his red, obsessive eyes, the moment those words left your mouth, sending a jolt through your spine all the way to your core and it made you swallow. Hard.

“Okay,” he resolves, pressing his forehead against yours and chuckling darkly.

“Huh?”

“Go ahead, get yourself off,” Shigaraki offers, putting more pressure against your heat.

You try moving away, glaring at him.

“You’re a fucking freak,” you finally conclude, despite the blush spreading on your cheeks, the growing warmth between your legs and your stupid little plan falling apart.

“What’s wrong? Thought you wanted to get off?” He leaned in looking smugly and his nose brushed yours, breath smelling like cigarettes and gin. You roll your eyes and he’s slightly disappointed that you don’t give him what he wants.

Your gaze falls onto his chapped lips for just a second, but even that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Do you want to kiss me instead?” he whispers tilting his head and his grin spreads.

“In your dreams,” you lie. “Now let go of me.”

“Why, I think you quite like this position.” He lowers his head to the junction between your neck and your shoulder, deeply inhaling your scent like a depraved pervert.

You wouldn’t understand the level of patience he was exerting with you. You probably thought he was incredibly cruel, but he was still holding back.

Burning with the desire to mark you, he let go of one of your arms and slid his hand all the way to your neck, spindly fingers wrapping around it, then squeezing experimentally.

“Why…do you act so—” he tightened his grip some more, making you struggle to breathe the words out, “fu—fuh—cked…up?”

The sight of you made his hard cock twitch in his pants.

“Because I want you,” he admits completely unapologetically, pressing his dry, cracked lips to the side of your neck and kissing it softly. The rough texture in contrast to the odd gentleness of the kiss made you shiver. “—and I’ve decided that I’m gonna have you.”

The audacity makes you burst into hysterical laughter, but he immediately cuts off your airway using the hand that still rested on your neck, making you gasp soundlessly.

“Is it that funny?” His teeth graze the sensitive skin on your neck. “Did you fuck Spinner?” Shigaraki growls at you suddenly and forgets you can’t breathe. Only when your body starts convulsing slightly from the tight grip, does he let up.

“Who?” you coughed.

“Don’t act stupid now,” he hisses, “The fucking nerd with long purple hair.”

“Oh, him?” You grinned angrily, taunting him, “That’s too bad, because it’s really none of your business.”

—was the wrong thing to say apparently, because he punches the bed with brutal force right next to your head, making you yelp.

“Fucking, ANSWER ME!” he screams and you flinch again.

“N-No, you asshole. I didn’t fuck any your friends, fuck.” you whisper submissively, feeling a familiar burn in your chest.

“Then why—!” he chokes, his face remaining partially hidden from behind his white hair, as you were staring at the ceiling with a fresh round of tears brimming in your eyes.

Shigaraki slowly sits up to look down at you and your gaze follows him as his whole body weight finally lifts from you. On your neck, he could see the faint red outline of his hand. His handprint.

His gaze hardens, going back to his stiff, unemotional self.

“It doesn’t matter,” he resolves in a tone so cold, it sends another chill down your spine.

“W-What do you mean?”

“I mean, that starting tonight you’ll become my bitch.” He pushes himself off of the bed, fixing his clothes and you couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief. “You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to do, and if you don’t—” He smirked sadistically before he continued, “I’ll just destroy everything you’ve ever held dear.” Shigaraki says, patting down his arms and his clothes as if to dust your filthy presence off.

You lie motionless at first until the words finally register into your alcohol addled brain. Sitting up, your face contorts in anger and you go off.

“You’re absolutely fucking nuts if you think—”

A sharp crack echoed in the room and judging by the position of your head, you realize Shigaraki had hit you across the face. Hard.

You don’t hold back the violent sobs that escape you. It really fucking hurts.

“Are you going to listen to me now?” he growled, grabbing you by the roots of your hair and turning your head to him. His jaw was clenched tight. “You’re a pathetic, self-destructive, little, fucking whore,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “And you should’ve taken the chance to kill yourself right after I showed your cute little ass to everyone. But do you know what?” You felt the warmth of his breath brushing over your cheek.

“Now you belong to me. So go ahead and try blowing your brains out, because not only will I make true on everything I told you, but your precious little friend, your coworkers, your boss—even your fucking therapist will regret the day you were fucking born.”

“No…” your breath came out as shaky, and the following words that came out of his mouth completely shattered you.

“Just like your mommy did. That’s why she killed your brother and shot herself up with heroin until she fucking died too. Just like your brother always will, from under his cozy little grav–”

You remember a loud howl but you don’t remember how you landed in the middle of the street, shoes and your jacket long forgotten.

You don’t remember how long you’ve been walking for, or where you were right now.

You don’t remember, you can’t stop trembling or crying hysterically and you don’t know what to do.

You don’t know what to do.

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

— NEW MESSAGES —

Psycho – i’m nice to my toys so i’ll look past your little tantrum this time [Sent 2:34 AM]

Psycho – you better show 2 class tmr otherwise i promise u really won’t like what will happen if you dont. [Sent 2:35 AM]

Psycho – sweet dreams :) [Sent 2:35 AM]

It was game over.

Opposites Attract - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your quirk lets you capture almost anyone with ease, and you can't believe you let Shigaraki Tomura escape. Shigaraki can't believe it, either, and according to the League, there's only one possible explanation -- you let him go because you've fallen in love with him. He decides to find out if it's true. You decide you won't fail to capture him again. You both get a lot more than you bargained for. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1

This was supposed to be your day off. It’s all you can think about, which isn’t a good thing, because you’re in the middle of a villain attack and using your quirk at all requires a significant amount of your focus – but it was supposed to be your day off, dammit. You’re supposed to be doing something fun. Going shopping. Getting a haircut, or mani-pedis, and going out for drinks with your friends at a place crawling with photographers. All the stuff young, single, female pro heroes are supposed to do. So what if you hate that stuff, and you were probably going to sleep all day, wake up at 5pm, make dinner, and marathon the Alien franchise until you fell asleep again? You could have gone out.

But instead you’re here, because Eraserhead caught himself another spinal fracture, and when the doctors threatened to tie him to the bed if he tried to leave before they were done fusing it, he called in a favor you owe him and made you supervise his first-year-class from hell on a field trip to the brand-new Kamino Memorial Park. Go to Kamino Park, they said. It’ll be safe, they said. There’s no way in hell the League of Villains will hit the place a second time.

Well, they’re hitting it, and they’re hitting it hard – and it was supposed to be your goddamn day off. You throw out your arm to stop the trio of students you’re shepherding to safety as three knives thud into the grass in front of you, and make yourself a promise: The next time Eraserhead asks you to do anything, you’re telling him to go to hell.

“Hey, um –” One of the students taps your shoulder, and you know without even asking that they’ve forgotten your name again. “We got our provisional licenses. We can fight now.”

“You can, but you won’t. Create a perimeter and protect the civilians,” you order. You’re not sure why the League of Villains is here, but there’s no way you’re feeding a bunch of kids back into the same meat grinder they escaped from a month ago. “Other pros are on their way, and so are the police. In the mean time –”

You flick your fingers, calling up a magnetic field, and the knives lift out of the grass, hovering in midair. “I’ll keep them busy.”

You consider taking the knives and sending them back the way they came, but unless you want to fatally wound Toga, you’ll just be handing her weapons back to her. You curl your hand into a fist, compacting them into useless wads of metal. You’ve already used your quirk to tear up the park, creating uneven, unsteady terrain that’s dangerous for anybody who doesn’t have a way to take the fight airborne. Now it’s time for you to do what you do best. You narrow your focus, sensing out the concentrations of suspended iron that represent the League of Villains, and once you’ve got them, you lock them down.

Most of them, anyway. One proves a little more difficult to grasp than the others, and you get moving, using one hand to pull rebar and wiring out of the ground. You need it to ensnare the three you’ve already captured while you chase the villain who slipped away from you. You secure Toga and Twice, but Dabi burns his way free, and Twice sends a clone after you. Since it’s a clone, you don’t feel bad about yanking every molecule of trace metals out of its body and turning it to sludge.

Dabi’s on his feet, but you’re a bad matchup for Dabi for a lot of reasons. He’s got a ton of extra metal in his body. He throws his hands out towards you, blue flames already flickering. You fix your quirk on the staples holding him together and start pulling them out.

“What the fuck?” Dabi snarls, recoiling. Blood is already beginning to ooze from the holes on his wrists. “If you think you can just take me apart –”

You yank out another two – one from each wrist. “Stand down. You’ll run out of those before I run out of power.”

It’s true. Your quirk is Magnetism, and using it is easy for you. Using it safely is something else, but you can yank out every staple in Dabi’s body without breaking a sweat or destroying any property. Not that you want to do that. “I don’t want to hurt you, so just –”

There’s a shift in metallic concentration just behind you, and you dive to one side, just in time to avoid Shigaraki Tomura’s hand as it tries to close over your shoulder. A Twice clone is after you, too. You take the staples you pulled out of Dabi and fire them through its eye and throat as you roll out of Shigaraki’s reach. The leader of the League of Villains laughs, low and raspy. “Killing somebody? That’s not very heroic.”

You hate it when villains banter, but you’re not letting that one stand. “That’s not the real Twice.”

You’ve got the real one, and now you’ve got Dabi, too – at least for a few seconds. Maintaining a hold on Dabi, Twice, and Toga at once is within your abilities, but doing that and trying to capture Shigaraki at the same time – and maintain the barriers you’ve set up – and stay sharp enough to bounce Shigaraki into midair if he tries to touch the ground and vaporize Kamino Memorial Park out from under your feet – all of that is testing your concentration. When you lose concentration while using your quirk, bad things happen.

Shigaraki reaches for you again. A hero like Eraserhead would retaliate physically, kick or hit back, but you don’t want to be anywhere near Shigaraki’s quirk. You draw back out of reach, taking a step back every time Shigaraki steps forward. “You’re an underground hero,” he says. “Didn’t you learn what we do to underground heroes from what happened to Eraserhead?”

“Yeah. He shook that off, and sent me to take care of his light work.” The longer you can drag this out, the better – you can hear sirens approaching, and you know that Yokohama’s other pros are on their way. “Isn’t this a little high-risk for you? Returning to the scene of the crime so you can – what?”

Shigaraki sneers at you from behind the hand. “What do you think?”

You really couldn’t care less. Someone shouts for you, and your concentration slips for a second too long. You have to decide who to let go of, and between the three you’ve restrained, Toga’s the least dangerous. You let your control over the iron concentration in her blood relax and focus on trying to restrain Shigaraki instead. He’s hard to get ahold of. His body’s iron concentration is less than it should be. You lock him down for a second, but you can’t get a grip, and he slips free, smirking. “I know who you are,” he says. “The Capture Hero – Skynet. Not much of a capture hero, huh? You can’t even hang on to me. Are you sure the villains you’ve bagged didn’t let you get them?”

“No, they just didn’t have anemia,” you snap. Shigaraki blinks. “You don’t have enough iron in your blood for me to manipulate.”

Anemia’s not uncommon, but you’ve never come across a case this severe in someone you’re trying to capture. His iron concentration is so low that you can’t hold him for more than a split second. That level of anemia is crippling, and the words fly awkwardly out of your mouth before you can stop them. “Are you, like – okay?”

“What?”

He’s stopped trying to grab you. You should capitalize on it, pull up more rebar and wire to hold him down, but your mind’s off on its own track. “Do you get headaches?” you ask. “What about dizziness? Do you get tired a lot?”

Shigaraki looks disconcerted. He nods – then shakes his head, snarls, and sinks back into a fighting stance. “Why do you care?”

“What about a rapid heart rate even when you’re not doing anything?” When he’s doing something, like he is right now, it’s got to be even worse. You two have been trading barbs for thirty seconds at most and he’s out of breath. “You need to take care of yourself. This isn’t healthy.”

“Shut up!” Shigaraki lunges for you, and you twist aside. You get a good look at his fingernails as his hand goes by. They’re pale instead of pink. “Why do you care? So you can capture me and keep your precious reputation?”

You’re actually a little insulted. “So you don’t die!”

Shigaraki stares at you. The hand reaching out for you drops, and you close the distance between the two of you to shove him hard, knocking him backwards. Once he hits the concrete, you’ll figure something else out. You can hold him until someone else gets here.

But someone else is here, and they’re not here to help you. Shigaraki tumbles directly into a warp gate, staring at you like you’ve lost your mind the entire way.

Damn it. You can’t grasp the warp villain – wherever his real body is, it’s a long way from here, and you’re at risk of losing Dabi and Twice now, too. You tighten your grip on them, but even as you do, you see another portal opening out of the corner of your eye. This one is in midair, threatening to swallow a group of civilians who decided that hiding behind the All Might statue was a better choice than evacuating like the students ordered them to. “The civilians, or my associates,” the warp villain rumbles, from everywhere and nowhere. “Your choice.”

It's not a choice. You release your grip on Dabi and Twice, both the iron in their blood and the metal and wire holding them down, and warp gates devour them both. The warp gate above the civilians shuts, decapitating the All Might statue in the bargain, and as quickly as everything began, it grinds to a halt.

“Skynet!” someone snaps from behind you, and you freeze. “You let them go?”

Miruko is Number Six on the charts, and she outranks you by a lot, but you still bristle at her tone. “The civilians –”

“If you’re not stopping villains, you’re not doing your job.” She looks pissed. You have a feeling that she’s only holding off on kicking you because it’ll look bad in front of everybody. “If you’d held onto them a second longer, I’d have been here, and –”

“We could have helped!” That’s one of Eraserhead’s students – the one with the spiky red hair. “If you’d let us help –”

“You’re just kids. Do you have any idea what Eraser would do to me if I had –” You trail off when you realize that whatever it is, Eraser’s going to do it to you anyway for even letting the kids near the League of Villains. “I was the senior hero at the scene. It was my call. If you did what I told you – which you did – you did the right thing.”

“You did the right thing,” Miruko says to the student. The police are here. The cars skid to a stop, and you feel the iron concentration in what’s left of the park shift. There’s a helicopter in the air, too. More people, more cameras. Miruko is glaring at you. “You’re the one who screwed up.”

Yeah, you did. You stare dispiritedly at the headless statue of All Might as Eraser’s class regroups around you, as somebody starts questioning Miruko – the new senior hero at the scene – about what went wrong here. A few thoughts spin through your head, mainly of the hell you’re about to catch from the press, the heroic establishment, and the HPSC. Shigaraki Tomura’s case of life-endangering anemia makes it in there, and so does a hit of frustration at the fact that you’re in trouble for choosing to save a bunch of civilians from getting bisected by a warp gate. But the main thing that’s on your mind is the same thing that’s been there since the first spurt of blue flames erupted over the park: This was supposed to be your day off.

“Well, that blew,” Dabi says as he picks himself up off the floor of the League’s new hideout. “Whose idea was this, again?”

He’s glaring at Shigaraki. Shigaraki glares back. “I didn’t hear you say we shouldn’t do it.”

“I said we shouldn’t,” Twice pipes up. He’s still got a piece of rebar wrapped around his ankle. “No, it was a great idea!”

It seemed like a great idea when Shigaraki thought of it last night – go to Kamino Park, rattle the heroes’ cages, show everybody that the League of Villains isn’t scared of anything and isn’t even close to down for the count without Sensei to guide them. Then again, Shigaraki was three cans deep into a twelve-pack Compress had lifted last night, so his judgment might have been off. Twice is still talking. “I mean, we scared the piss out of those civilians. Those hero brats were running scared, too! And did you see what Kurogiri did to that All Might statue?”

“No,” Shigaraki says. He looks at Kurogiri. “What did you do?”

“Over there.” Kurogiri points, and Shigaraki looks. The head of the All Might statue is sitting on the warehouse floor. “It would have been a shame to leave without a trophy of some kind.”

“It’s on the news,” Magne sings out. She opted out of mission, and now she’s watching it on the League’s TV, lifted last week by Compress, which is hooked up to their generator, which was also lifted by Compress. “And it’s not looking too good for the heroes. That little one’s in big trouble.”

“Good. She’s a bitch,” Dabi mutters. His hands are bleeding. “What was that quirk, anyway?”

“Magnetism,” Shigaraki says. He feels weird. Maybe it’s the quirk. “She can manipulate magnetic fields. Any metal, on any of us –”

“I didn’t have any!” Twice protests.

“Then she used the iron content in your blood,” Shigaraki says. You told him how you were restraining the others. Amateur mistake. Or it would be, if there was any way to not have iron in his blood – but that’s a problem, too. “She couldn’t grab me. She said I didn’t have enough.”

“Is that so?” Kurogiri studies Shigaraki. “Did she say anything else?”

“Anemic.” It’s a weird word. Shigaraki scratches his neck. “She was weird about it. She wanted to know if I get headaches, or dizzy – or tired –”

The answer’s yes, which is why it was weird. It was weird that you knew. But the weirdest thing is what you said at the end. “She asked me if I was okay, and when I asked her why she gave a shit –”

“She answered you?” Magne mutes the TV, looking surprised. “What did she say?”

“What did I miss?” Toga skids into the warehouse before Shigaraki can answer. “I got away, but none of you came with me, so I went to the meeting spot alone. What happened?”

“The hero let us go,” Dabi grunts. “Shigaraki was just telling us about a little chat they had.”

“Ooh, you talked to her?” Toga sits down next to Twice on the ground, peering at Shigaraki. “What did she say?”

“She doesn’t want me to die.” Shigaraki feels his face contort behind Father’s hand as he says it. “Weird.”

“Weird,” Twice agrees. “Since when do heroes play mind games like that?”

It’s quiet for a second. “So she asked if you were okay and she doesn’t want you to die,” Dabi says slowly. “I don’t know, Shigaraki. It sounds kind of like she likes you.”

Shigaraki’s mind goes totally blank. “What?”

“You must have won her over,” Magne chimes in. “All that charisma you’ve got – how was a poor underground hero supposed to resist the leader of the League of Villains?”

You seemed like you were resisting just fine, until you couldn’t grab him. But it’s weird that you weren’t angry. You actually sounded like you were worried. Like you really cared whether Shigaraki has anemia, or whatever the fuck. Like you care if he’s okay. “Don’t be stupid. That’s not –”

“Come on, boss, don’t sell yourself short,” Twice says. “If you can seduce any hero you want, how come you didn’t seduce Miruko?”

“Ooh, Miruko’s so pretty!” Toga grins. “The other one’s okay, too. What was her name again?”

Shigaraki coughs, trying to make his throat feel less weird, but it’s not just his throat. It’s his face, too. “Skynet.”

“You said she was getting in trouble. I bet that’s why,” Dabi says to Magne. “They must have all figured out that she’s in love.”

“Shut up,” Shigaraki says. Nobody listens. He raises his voice. “Shut up! The mission was a success. Why aren’t we talking about that?”

“We are,” Toga says. Her grin’s devolved into a goofy, dazed smile. “You have to teach me how, Tomura-kun. If we make the heroes fall in love with us, it’ll be even easier to win! I want Ochako. No, Tsu. No, Izuku –”

Shigaraki stops listening. He picks himself up off the floor, hating the way his head spins, and makes his way over to Kurogiri. Kurogiri studies him. “Anemic,” he repeats. “The hero listed the symptoms of iron-deficiency anemia. Do you experience any of them?”

Shigaraki doesn’t answer. Kurogiri waits, just like he always waits, and Shigaraki figured out a while ago that the fastest way to make the itching stop is to answer the question. “Some of them,” he says. Kurogiri’s eyes tilt in the way that means he thinks Shigaraki’s full of shit. “Fine. All of them. So what?”

“Did she say anything else?”

Are you okay? “No,” Shigaraki says, pushing away the memory of how fast your expression shifted, how you went from focused on keeping Shigaraki’s comrades trapped and trapping him the exact same way to looking – worried. “That was it. Kurogiri, do you –”

“Yes, Shigaraki Tomura?”

“I mean, they’re just – they’re joking, right?” Shigaraki keeps his voice quiet. If any of the others hear this, he’s going to have to kill them. And maybe also himself, so he won’t have to remember that he thought about this at all. “There’s no way anybody – I mean, a hero – would like me. They’re kidding. Aren’t they?”

He wants Kurogiri to say yes. He wants him to say yes fast, and then to not pick on him for even considering it, and then to forget this ever happened. Instead Kurogiri thinks about it. “It is not impossible that they are correct,” he says. “Her behavior was unusual for a hero in her position. And it is likely that she knows more about you than you do about her. Perhaps she does have a certain – perception of you.”

“Great.”

“It could be,” Kurogiri muses. “She drew your attention to an issue that impacts your health, and therefore your effectiveness as All For One’s successor. And she chose to let you go. If the hero known as Skynet does have a soft spot for you, it has worked undeniably in your favor. It might behoove you to allow her to continue to nurse it.”

“Yeah, no.” Shigaraki shoots that idea down immediately. Any idea that makes him feel that weird is obviously a bad one. “I’m not going to track her down and say I’m not interested, but the next time I run into her, I’m saying it and you can’t stop me. None of you can stop me.”

He raises his voice, making sure everyone hears, and everyone looks up from whatever they’re doing. “Of course we can’t,” Magne says. “But you’re naïve if you think you can stop her. Nothing can stop a hero on a mission.”

“And nothing can stop true love!” Toga smiles at Shigaraki. “I believe in us, Tomura-kun! We can win their hearts together!”

The weird feeling multiplies. Shigaraki scratches hopelessly at the side of his neck and thinks about the remains of last night’s twelve-pack. Getting drunk again isn’t going to help, but it’s hard to imagine it making things worse.

Game night

Tomura shigaraki x Gf reader

🌟smut

"A date? Why the hell do we have to go on a date...?" He scratched his neck, you couldn't tell what kind of expression he was looking at you with by the hand that covered his face. You and Tomura had a... complicated relationship. You declared your feelings to him shortly after joining the league and he accepted you. But he was always pretty uninterested in you in certain moments.

"Because we're a couple? Don't you want to spend time together tomara?" You question with a saddening tone. You love tomura but you can tell he didn't enjoy the same things you did at all.

"We spend plenty of damn time together." He said bluntly, scoffing and finally removing his hand from his face so he can look at you. He sat down in a couch and crossed his arms. "What's wrong with just sitting and talking? Why do we have to eat out somewhere?"

"You don't get tired of the same thing over and over again?" You tell him as you followed behind him sitting next to him not too close enough to give him his space.

He shrugged, looking down at his thighs for a moment before shifting his gaze back to you. His eyes trailed over your body and a smirk pulled at the corners of his lips.

"I guess not. You certainly don't get tired of being a pain in my ass though, heh."

You groan in frustration he didn't get you and you didn't get him but that didn't mean you gave up easily,

"Let's go out tomura..." you plea at him

He groaned back in annoyance and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Fine, but only if you shut up. It's always "please this" and "please that" and "let's go here" with you. If you aren't saying some bullshit like that, you're complaining about some other stupid thing!"

His words hurt you it's not like he was wrong but you didn't do it to annoy him you just wanted him to feel the same joy you felt when you did whatever he wanted to do,

"Never mind we can just stay here..." you tell him trying to hide your pain, Of course, he noticed your expression. His eyes watched you closely, picking up on the slightest shift in your mood. He knew what he said hurt you. Hell, he was trying to. But seeing the way your face dropped was something he wasn't expecting. Tomura sighed and leaned back in the couch, looking away from you and rubbing his eyes.

"No... whatever. Fine. We can go out, just stop looking like that." He was trying his best not to sound like he cared.

"A-are you sure?.. I don't want you to be mad at me or anything..." you mumble underneath your breath with slight excitement in your voice, he was really considering going out with you...

A small scoff escaped his lips as he looked back at you, the same smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth again.

"Yeah, whatever, I'm not mad, idiot. I just don't get why you want to go somewhere so bad. Can't we just sit and watch a movie or something?"

"I don't know I just want to make ..." you mumble softly before you could finish your sentence afraid he might say your reasonings are stupid. you fiddle with your fingers trying to not look embarrassed, He raised a brow, looking at you in a confused yet curious manner. He could tell you were holding something back, and he was a bit frustrated that you weren't finishing your sentence. He leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on his thighs as he kept his eyes on you.

"You just want to make what? Spit it out, 'll probably hate it whatever you say anyways."

"M-" your words budging in your throat you couldn't spit it out, but you knew you had to or he'd get irritated.

"M-make memories with you..." you let out,

Well that... was not at all what he was expecting. He expected your answer to be something stupid and annoying, but instead it was... somewhat endearing. For a moment he sat there in silence, looking at you with a blank expression as he processed your answer.

"Memories? You only want to go out so you can make memories with me? That's... stupid."

You knew he's say that and it didn't bother you since you had predicted it, sometimes you wish he's see your point of view on relationships this might be his first but it didn't mean he couldn't try.

"Y-yeah you're right..." you sigh

He raised a brow when you agreed with him. He expected you to argue with him or something, not just give in. It made him want to... not insult you? What the hell was wrong with him? He stared at you for a minute, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Huh? So you agree that it's stupid? Why'd you even say it then? You want to make memories because it's something happy couples do, right?"

You turn in embarrassment you knew he didn't do what other couples did especially "happy" couples.

"I'm not sure..." you respond in a low voice

He rolled his eyes at your mumbled response, a smirk pulling at his lips yet again. He loved getting under your skin. He always found it slightly amusing how you got so easily flustered

"What, can't even look at me when you're answering? Tch, you're so weak, it's pathetic."

He said as he started shifting himself on the couch, slowly moving closer to you.

You turn up to look at him, as if you were a lost puppy trying to find your owner you didn't know what to tell him. Dealing with tomura meant dealing with names but you tried to not let them get to you. He chuckled softly when he saw the expression on your face. He shifted closer to you until he was basically pressed against you, his face now only a few inches from yours. A smirk tugged at his lips as he ran his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him directly.

"Aww, I struck a nerve, huh? You get all shy when l insult you because you know they're all true, right? You're weak and pathetic, but you're always following me around like a dog."

You perk your lips feeling his hot breath below them,He slowly dragged his finger from your chin up to your bottom lip, gently running it across your soft skin. He couldn't help but notice the look you gave him he leaned in even closer, his face just barely hovering over yours.

"Always looking at me with those big round eyes and following me around, trying to get my attention. Like a dog, waiting for its owner to say something to it...”

He chuckled as he heard you let out a soft gasp, watching as your face turned red. It was so fun messing with you, seeing how easily flustered you got over the simplest things. He leaned in a bit closer, his mouth now right next to your ear.

"And now look at you, you're a mess just because I got a few inches closer to you.You're too easy, you know that? I bet I could do anything I wanted to you right now and you'd let me."

He was right you would but you wouldn't admit it not right now atleast not while he was turning you on. It's silly getting turned on just by words.

"I-I'm not..." you let out

He smirked again as soon as you spoke. He knew you were trying to hide your true feelings, trying to act like you weren't desperate for his attention. He leaned back a little so he could look at your face again and see your expression as he spoke.

"Not what? A mess? Easy? You're both, doll. I can see it in the way you're looking at me right now. Your face is so red, it's cute."

You try to control yourself as he moves closer to you causing you to yelp as he caresses you cheek, He smirked at the small yelp you let out, finding it adorable. He loved how sensitive you were, how easy it was to get a reaction out of you. He moved the hand that was on your cheek so it was tangled into your hair, his nails gently scratching your scalp as he spoke.

"I'm barely even touching you and you're trembling. I bet I could just pin you down right here right now and you wouldn't fight back. You're so obedient, just like a good little pet~"

"T-tomura..." you let out a gasp as he pins you down looking at you beneath him feeling his pent up member hard onto your core, He chuckled as he heard the way you whined his name out to him, the way your voice got all needy because of him. Your voice was music to his ears.

"What's wrong, doll? Got no other words to say?"

He said as he leaned down to your ear again, gently biting your earlobe before moving his lips down to your neck.

You repeat his name as he places kisses on your sensitive skin causing you to treble.

You wanted him and he wanted you it was obvious they way his pants tightened around his shaft. The way his hips moved slowly around your core repeatedly...

He groaned against your skin as he felt your body squirmed underneath him. He continued leaving a trail of kisses on your neck, moving his lips down to the crook of it and nibbling on the skin. He let out another groan when he felt you say his name again, and his hips subconsciously started moving more against you.

"You're so easy, it's pathetic."

He said huskily as he let out another groan.

"I-I'm n-not!" You let out as his kisses weakened you. He chuckled, finding your stubbornness both cute and ridiculous. He started leaving smaller kisses along your jawline, getting closer to your mouth.

"Oh yes, you are. You get all whiny and flustered whenever I touch you. You get all shy and quiet when I get close to you. You're a mess right now, and I all I did was pin you down."

He said against your skin before biting gently on your jaw. "I'm not the o-only one !" You exclaim as you look at his thick hard member

He chuckled again when you spoke, before slowly moving up a bit to look down at you.

He smirked at the way you spoke so boldly all of a sudden, his eyes locking onto yours as he continued rubbing himself against you.

"Oh, really? You think you're not the only one acting like this? Then what about me, hm? What makes you think I'm flustered, doll?"

"Your hips... the way you're moving them on me" you let out a soft moan as he continues his motions. He froze as you pointed out the way his hips were moving against you, realizing that you were right and he was losing his cool. He let out a huffed breath, trying to compose himself. He didn't want to show any kind of weakness in front of you. Instead, he leaned down to give you one quick kiss on the lips, like some kind of distraction, before speaking.

"That's... it's just because you're making me like this, doll. You're so pathetic that I can't help but get a little riled up."… "Im going to take you up like the slut you are and screw you untill you come undone" he says with his low raspy voice it turned you on so much. His words were blunt and vulgar, but they had a different effect on you than he would ve expected. They made you shiver, made your face turn redder than it was before, and caused a jolt of something in your lower stomach you hadn't felt before.

He saw the way you reacted to his words and the look on your face, a smirk crept onto his face as his eyes darkened. tomuras words fall from his lips like honey, you couldn’t help but feel something turn on inside you felt empty as if you needed him, needed him badly.

“tomura please.. p-please fuck me..” you cry in despair begging for him asking him to do what you’ve been expecting. He wouldn’t let you have what you wanted easily, you would have to work for it and hard. His lips formed a smirk as he replied “Fine I’ll fuck you.. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll beg me for more..”

You were relived, you were eager but before you could plea he spoke again.

“But you’ll have to work for it princess.. you have to prove to me how badly you want it ..“ he smirks as he lets you go and sits up undressing his lower half and sitting back down positioning himself with wide legs.

“Suck it.” He commanded.

You did as you were told, But he wanted more. You slowly kiss the tip of his shaft tasting the pre cum leaking from his cock what made it even better were the grunts he let out when you touched his dick.

“f-fuck..” he lets out, he doesn’t know why you have him like this you haven’t even put it inside your mouth and he wants to just forget about your punishment and fuck you but he knows you won’t learn.

You start kissing his tip as you feel the pre cum on your lips the sweet but slightly sour flavor falls on your tongue like heaven.

“My sweet fucking g-girl~” he moans out “You love my cock don’t you?” He chuckles as you bob your head feeling his hard cock inside your mouth as it twitches, he grabs your hair gently but roughly as he pushes your head down even further hitting the back of your throat.

“Mhm!!!” You squeal as you felt his cock deeper inside your mouth tears start to form, your gag reflexes weren’t the best but it was enough to handle his size,

“My pretty girl s-so pretty..” you give a final bob as he finishes inside your mouth filling it with his seed, you felt yourself get wetter and wetter panties soaked.

He commands you to swallow every last drop before he helps you up and shoves you to the couch, his cock rubbing in your throbbing pussy.

“beg for it.” He says in a low raspy voice

Without a doubt you do as he says,

“P-please b-baby please!” “Just fuck m-me!” You beg hoping he’d hurry, hearing you beg turned him on and he sure was gonna fuck the voice out of you. He positions himself in front of your wet entrence causing you to moan causing music to his ears and he slowly enters himself as a way to make you suffer he was going to take his time with you pressuring you and make you wait for what you wanted.

“T-omura!” You whine as you more your hips like a horny dog trying to make him move faster

“Keep trying and I won’t put it in you brat..” shigaraki a husky voice tells you in a serious voice he meant what he said.

You whimper you wanted him inside and when he was it drove you mad he thrusted in and out of your core causing you to moan like a mad woman it felt so good the way his cock cam in and out in and out in repeat pushing against your gummy walls and you tighten with each thrust,

“fuckfuck fuckkk..” you moaned out in repeat your walls were clenching on him hard and he enjoyed ever last one he lived the way your eyes fooled back with tears on them the way your young made its way out panting rapidly as he pushed your lug towards your chest making even more access to your core.

“My pretty little c-cunt…”. He let out with grunts

“Fucking mine..” he smiled at your figure, you felt yourself cumming soon pleading for his seen deep inside you,

“p-please p-please cum inside me!!!” You whined as his final thrusted in you spreading his seed all over your walls

“FUCK!!” He yelled as he panted slowly trying to gain his breath he feel beside you as his eyes were searching for something to cover you with.

He soon found a blanket and got up to get it sitting down as he commanded you to lay on his side while covering both of you as you fell asleep in his chest.

As you felt asleep he looked at your weak figure the way it was fragile… he loved the way you look like a lost puppy in need of a home loved the way you begged and plead underneath him….

Fuck.

He was hard again.

(if you liked my work feel free to check out the rest on my page and follow <3!! Or click the #hotcheetos22 )

Yea same..

You guys have no idea how much I miss Tomura. I have cried so much, and it hurts my heart so fucking bad. He deserved the world.

My "realistic" (totally not biased) Shigaraki HC's

has extreme touch aversion, but craves it at the same time. it's a never ending cycle of wanting to fuck someone's brains out, but then getting disgusted at someone brushing up against him.

decent hygiene... most of the time. if he's really busy, chances are he probably won't even change his clothes. good luck with handling the dick cheese.

his voice breaks during sex, quite a lot. it makes dirty talk sound silly at first, but he gets the hang of it. if he's receiving head, he won't stop blabbering. he'd say the most vile shit, while his voice would be switching from raspy to comically high-pitched.

pre-experimentation Tomura doesn't have an impressive cock. it's probably average by all means, maybe even thinner than the norm. but post-experimentation though... all of that shit Dr. Garaki did definitely had an effect on his entire body, dick included.

high sex drive, but lazy. he probably wants you to do the work most of the time, unless he has some pent up emotions to release. get ready for the entire LoV to hear your screams by the time Tomura is done with you. he wouldn't even bother undressing you fully, as long as he has a hole to fuck, he doesn't care.

disgustingly perverted without realizing it. if you leave dirty clothes on the bed, he'll sniff them until his dick gets painfully hard. if you're not there to help him out, he'll grab a pair of your used panties to jack off with. never question him about the cum stains, it makes him annoyed.

never. submissive. i can't imagine a single scenario where Tomura would willing give up control and let another person hold all the power over him.

not that kinky. The dom-sub dynamics would always be at play, but bondage and anything else that takes more time and effort, would rarely happen.

hates you touching him randomly, but always has his hands on you in some way. whether it be an innocent pat on the shoulder, or full on groping you when he feels like it, he has to do something with his hands. you're like his fidget toy.

but you cannot do the same. maybe he'll let you get away with it once in a while, but Tomura will shamelessly move your head away if you try to rest it on his shoulder. god forbid that you try to do it while someone else is around.

extremely possessive. he doesn't get jealous, because he believes that everyone is beneath him. you're more like a possession that only belongs to him. and no one is stupid enough to try anything with you. most of the time. if someone gathers the courage to try and flirt with you, Tomura would kill the person on the spot, regardless of their importance. what's his shall never be taken away, and he makes it very clear.