Taking Care, Taking What's Mine - A "Play Nice" Commission
Taking Care, Taking What's Mine - A "Play Nice" Commission
Summary: A Play Nice AU Chapter, in which, rather than taking the high road and trying to build a real relationship with the girl he's been sextorting for weeks, Tomura Shigaraki baby-traps her instead.
CW: Quirkless!AU, Dub-Con, Smut, Extortion, Baby-Trapping, Forced Pregnancy, Love-Bombing, Manipulation, Power Play, Possessive Shigaraki, Yandere Shigaraki, Morning Sickness, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
AO3 Link
A/N: Happy fucking Father's Day readers!! Lmao! I got this AMAZING commission a while ago to write an AU of my AU (a fanfic writer's dream come true honestly), of Shigaraki baby-trapping MC and well, while it took longer then I meant it to to come out, I'm so glad that I could post it on Father' Day of all days lmao.
Anyway though, this was so much fun to write. Shigaraki has been on the journey of bettering himself for so long in Play Nice now, it was a total blast returning to form and writing him nice and scummy again.
I'd love to do more of these honestly, so as a reminder: I give discounts on Commissions that take place in my AU's.
Play Nice, Burnt Bridges, Step by Step -- all of them. They're super fun for me to write and most of the heavy-lifting of ideating and plotting has already been done for them, so I'm happy to write fics like this for cheaper. :)
Anyway, enjoy some forced parentification on this day of dads. xD
“Hey, hey— are you alright?”
She lifted her head from where she’d been resting it against her gym locker, the coolness of the metal being the first thing to even remotely ease the headache she’d been fighting for the last three days.
“Yeah, of course,” she tried to force a weak smile as Nejire approached her, clearly concerned, “Why do you ask?
The captain was dressed in her practice suit. And she quickly realized that so were all the other girls, most of them already making their way out the doors to the pool deck. She was the lone straggler who hadn’t even managed to undo her uniform tie yet. Nejire looked over at these girls, and then back to her, wordlessly demonstrating why that should be obvious.
She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head, “Okay, I guess I’m feeling a bit under the weather today…”
And that was the understatement of the century. She felt like absolute shit . Piling on top of that stubborn pounding in her head were a pair of really sore tits, a lethargy that stuck with her no matter how much vending machine coffee she chugged, and cramps that had shot straight out of hell and directly into her uterus.
But to be honest, she couldn’t complain too much about these ailments. In fact, she was pretty damn relieved. These were all her tell-tale signs of PMS. They were a little worse than usual this time around sure, but if that was the tradeoff for the relief of not being pregnant, she’d take it in a heartbeat. Her period was only one day late at this point and it had all but paralyzed her with fear.
Of course in retrospect, the fear did seem a bit silly. After all, Shigaraki’s creepy family doctor had warned her there might be some changes.
“I never start patients new to birth control immediately on a Long Acting Reversible Contraception,” he explained, “Especially not teenagers.”
“Why not?” she demanded, “It’s reversible, right? It’s not like you’re tying my tubes or anything.”
“No, but you never know how your body is going to react to the hormonal shift. You could develop acne, weight gain, hair growth—”
“I don’t care about that superficial stuff.”
“... Migraines, blood clots, depression,” he continued, looking at her pointedly.
She looked away, feeling a bit stupid for interrupting him now that he’d listed the more serious side-effects.
“I’m not saying you have to stay on the pill forever. But give it a few months, see how you feel on it. It can help us better determine which long-term birth control is best for your body without any unnecessarily invasive procedures.”
She shuddered at the very thought of being stuck in this set-up with Shigaraki for months. She hoped he’d get bored of her sooner rather than later.
Well, on the brightside, at least this sketchy-ass doctor seemed to be as interested in looking under her skirt as she was having him down there. However, this still left the ever so pertinent issue of:
“Okay, but there’s still the issue of getting the pills. No pharmacy is going to give me these without signed parental consent.” She had the always convenient Japanese purity culture to thank for that.
Ujiko simply smiled and pulled out a wheel of birth control pills from his medical bag right then and there.
“Consider these the same as this appointment,” he said, cupping his hands over hers and placing the wheel firmly into her palm, “ Off the record. ”
And then the rest of the “appointment” had descended into one of extremely thinly-veiled intimidation that bizarrely enough, she’d relied on Shigaraki of all people to save her from. By that point, she’d been scared so shitless she had very little argument left in her to try and reason him into just giving her the damn IUD.
The regret of not standing her ground on the issue did hit her later that night on the train home. Particularly when she thought over the fact that the way they were keeping these pills off the record was by having her pick up her refills through Shigaraki. The idea of giving him even more power over her like that made her feel sick to her stomach. And yes, while logically she knew that he had just as much motivation to keep her from getting pregnant as she did (she had a feeling All for One would not take too kindly to his star successor knocking up a lowly commoner such as herself), she still just had a bad feeling about the whole thing.
So she’d resolved herself on her first refill day to completely lay into Shigaraki for any level of tomfoolery he may get up to in this situation. There would be no forgetting, no being too busy to pick up the pills for her, absolutely nothing. She was ready to rain full fire and brimstone on him if there was even a hint of bullshit.
But to her surprise (and relief), she hadn’t even crossed the threshold of his bedroom before he was tossing a new pack to replace her wheel with. Simple and nonchalant, and then he was just as quick as always to badger her about getting her clothes off already, get on the bed already, break up with your boyfriend already.
It was the same old, same old — for better or for worse. Even if she couldn’t trust Tomura Shigaraki himself, that action had at least ensured that she could trust his own desire for self-preservation.
And that was better than nothing she supposed.
Back in the locker room, Nejire asked her, “Do you think you’re coming down with something?”
She smiled at her friend, joking, “Nothing I don’t come down with every month.”
Nejire tilted her head in confusion for a moment before the lightbulb visibly lit up in her head.
“Ohhhhh,” Nejire nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, Aunt Flow can be a real meanie sometimes, huh?”
She laughed, then winced as the action worsened the throbbing in her head, “Damn it— you can say that again.”
Nejire’s brows furrowed and she brought a hand to the small of her friend’s back, “Hey, why don’t you take this afternoon off?”
She looked back to her, surprised, “Oh no, I couldn’t…”
“Sure you could!” Nejire chirped, “And honestly, you probably should. We’re working on our weakest strokes today. I had you down to work on your fly.”
Visible dread filled her as she thought about doing that much undulation in her current state.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Nejire laughed, “Seriously, go home. We’ll miss you, but we love you too. So we want you to take care of yourself.”
She debated a little more internally, one other loose thread dropping into her mind’s eye.
“If I do… Do you mind—”
“I’ll let Mirio know,” she shot her a wink as she clarified, “ After practice. I’ll let him know you just need the peace and quiet.”
She smiled at Nejire, genuinely grateful. This. This right here was what made all of the bending over backwards she did to fit in and please others worth it. To be cared about by such a good person.
The warmth of that care stayed with her all the way out to the school gates, where she was then immediately filled with dread upon realizing that she’d need to go in one of two directions depending on where she was going after school: the train station home, or the walk to Shigaraki’s.
And just which direction she was scheduled to go today.
She let out a long groan, anguished and loud enough to startle a couple members of the going home club that passed her. For once though, she didn’t care about her reputation, she was too focussed on what a goddamn nightmare she was falling into.
She pulled out her cellphone with a sigh. Yes she knew the effort was probably futile, but damn her if she didn’t at least try.
Yup. She could’ve seen that coming from a mile away. She sighed as she shoved her phone back into her bag and started the very slow trek over to Shigaraki’s.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Shigaraki said as he looked her over his doorway, “You look like shit.”
She shot him a wholly unimpressed look as she shoved past him into his bedroom.
“Yeah, I fucking told you.”
Shigaraki, surprisingly, didn't have anything to say about her tone, even with her brusqueness towards him being more than usual. He just watched her drop down face first onto his bed and curl her legs up into her chest.
She sighed at the slight relief the position gave her. While dealing with Shigaraki’s antics was about the last thing she wanted right now, she supposed that at least she could be grateful for how much closer his apartment was to her school then her own home was. It saved her a good fifty-minutes of white-knuckling a train stanchion to keep down her groans of pain. Now at least she could get the relief of laying down much sooner.
If only for a little bit.
“What’s going on?”
She bristled at Shigaraki’s voice, the unwelcome reminder that she wasn’t going to be able to truly relax right now. And while there didn’t seem to be any entendre or even impatience in his question, the fact that his voice was getting closer to her was enough to make her suspicious.
“My head aches, my back aches, my boobs ache — everything aches,” she grumbled down into his sheets, “And I feel like I’ve been donkey-kicked straight in the uterus.”
“You start your period or something?”
He didn’t sound sarcastic when he asked it, not that typical boy way of asking any time a girl did something they considered “moody”. It was a genuine question. But it irritated her all the same.
Everything seemed to be irritating her these days.
“About to,” she answered, “It’s like a day late, but it’s definitely coming.”
She felt the bed shift a bit as he sat next to her.
“Are you nauseous at all?”
Her brows furrowed, a bit confused by the interest.
“I guess a little,” she answered, because even though it was mild, there was a certain turn in her stomach that wasn’t unlike motion sickness, “But honestly, I think it’s just from the pain. This has been going on for like three days.”
“Have you taken anything for it?”
She could’ve laughed if she wasn’t so annoyed by the reminder of all her futile attempts to alleviate this. Because of course he was looking for a quick fix so they could fuck already.
“I’ve taken everything for it,” she groaned, “Nothing’s working.”
He just hummed in response, and then she could feel the sheets behind her dip a bit as he repositioned himself. Into what orientation, she wasn’t sure. She was about to turn her head back and ask him what he was doing when she felt his hand featherlight across her hip.
And between her legs.
“No, Shigaraki please,” she whined, pulling he knees closer into her chest, “I’m not kidding, I’m seriously in a lot of pain—”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Tell that to your hand then,” she snapped as his fingers tried to wiggle their way between her clenched thighs.
“I mean I’m not doing anything for me. This is for you.”
“Oh is it now,” she deadpanned.
“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he insisted, more irritably this time, “Orgasms help with cramps, right?”
She stilled, sufficiently stumped by that particular statement. Because yes, she could say from experience that they absolutely did. She’d spent many a nasty period with her fingers latched to clit to chase that particular path of relief.
…but why the hell did Shigaraki know that?
She gasped as she suddenly felt the gentle roll of her clit under three fingers. Apparently, in her moments of distracted deliberation, Shigaraki managed to push his hand past the plush lock of her thighs and under the hem of her panties.
“Sh-Shigaraki…” she whined, pushing her elbow blindly and weakly back towards him.
He caught it gently in his free palm and, rather than trying to pin or strain it in whatever which way he desired, like usual, he just held it there. Didn’t even hold it in place really, just shielded himself against its determined path towards his ribs.
“I’m serious,” he said, uncharacteristically soft, “I’m trying to help you.”
She finally mustered up the strength to — despite how much her aching abdomen hated her for it — turn and glower at Shigaraki.
“No funny business?” she pressed.
He settled his own flat expression on her, “When have I ever been funny?”
More times than she’d like to admit honestly, but she got what he was saying here. He was a pretty serious, straightforward person on principle. He didn’t bullshit, he didn’t pull cheap tricks, and, shockingly enough, he didn’t typically lie. Frustrating as it was, Tomura Shigaraki was pretty much always unapologetically himself and he always did what he wanted.
So if he said that he was doing this to help her, then she supposed that she didn't actually have a lot of reason to distrust him.
Plus, his fingers hadn’t stopped their soft, but affective ministrations between her legs, and the pleasant sparks of heated relief they were sending through her were undeniable.
She turned back onto her side with a sigh that was half-exasperation, half pleasure.
“Fine,” she said, throwing back quickly before he got too victorious, “But fuck around and I’ll kick you.”
Shigaraki just chuckled, a soft throaty sound that shouldn’t have sent the chills up her spine that it did, “Yeah, yeah…”
In one motion, careful not to jostle her too much, Shigaraki both pulled her back and scooched himself closer, until her back was nestled snug against his surprisingly firm chest and her head laid in the crux of his bicep.
With this new closeness he was able to be a bit more deliberate with the angle and pressure he used to rub at her swollen sex. And, while she hated to admit it, the increased blood flow between her legs was causing the pressure within her to build quite a bit faster than usual. Enough so that it had her letting go of the tension in her neck and joints — the automatic stress reaction she had to any of Shigaraki’s displays of intimacy — and letting the weight of her head drop fully into his embrace.
A shuddering sigh left Shigaraki at that clear relinquishing of control, of the way she truly let herself lay back and relax into him. It gave him the encouragement he needed to enjoy her to the fullest extent that he wanted her as well, burying his nose deep into her hair.
He started to stroke wider circles around her, the flats of his fingers never leaving her clit, but now allowing the tips to dip softly into her entrance. He didn’t push them in at all past his first knuckles, just enough to catch some of that growing wetness and spread it all across her fluttering lips.
“A-Ah—” she gasped out, “Sh-shit…”
“Like that?” he rasped, hot against her ear.
She bit her lip, nodding needily, “Mm— Mm-hmm…”
He groaned at the response, doubling down on that motion as he started to stud long, hot kisses down the back of her jaw and neck. The feeling, so gentle and intimate and good in combination to the way he worked her sex, had her unconsciously rocking her hips into his touch, and back into his own.
Vaguely through the haze, she could feel the familiar outline of his stiff cock against the cleft of her ass, but shockingly he didn’t try to grind it against her for relief. If anything actually, when her own hips moved unconsciously back against it, he actually shifted his own hips away, anglind them down so his erection pushed into the bed instead. As if he didn’t want her to feel it, that he was concerned about her feeling pressured by its presence.
She didn’t have the chance to think too much into that though, not when his fingers were coaxing her closer to the edge by the second. The mess between her legs was obscene at this point, through teary eyes she could see the overflow of it spreading wide across her thighs and pooling down in the sheets.
“God look at you, so fucking wet,” he groaned, lips having made it down to her shoulder and staying there so that he could have a better view of her writhing under his touch, “You needed this, huh? Fucking needed me…”
She buried her face into his arm to muffle her moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but also not wanting him to stop.
By some act of God, Shigaraki didn’t push for that answer either. She wasn’t sure why he’d abandoned his typical demands and taunts, didn’t threaten to stop until she gave him the verbal submission and begrudging praise he always wanted. Nor did she stop to think about why, she just let the gratitude course through her, spurred further and wider by the waves of heat rushing through her body, threatening — promising — to overflow.
Shigaraki could feel that axiomatic tension in her body, the boiling point it promised, and sped up his hand to stoke the flames.
“You’re close aren’t you? Oh yeah, you’re close…” his kisses turned to nips at her neck between progressively more demanding growls, “Gonna be a good girl and come for me?”
Fuck, hearing those last words spill from his mouth should not have done what it was doing to her. But it was speeding up her peak, and it was speeding it up audibly.
“Yeah, yeah that’s good, really good. Let it go. Go ahead, be a good girl and let it go.”
She cried out, her arching back forcing her face forward and mouth unmuffled as finally, finally her body went blissfully loose, the pain of the past few days overtaken by waves of heat and pleasure. One after the other, her hormone-driven sensitivity wrung out multiple orgasms, and his frantic fingers were happy to work her through each one until she was begging him to stop.
“Good girl, yeah, yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl,” he continued to praise, returning time and again to that phrase he could feel her getting unconsciously excited over, “That’s my good girl…”
It was just a few blurry moments of consciousness after that. She was pretty sure she whined something like “too much” to him at some point, and he whispered back something that she was sure was just utterly debauched right back. Or maybe it was sweet nothings, he had really favored those by the end of this escapade after all.
Whatever it all was, she supposed it didn’t matter. All that mattered in those seconds of labored breaths and fluttering lashes was the beautiful bliss and relief that finally overtook her body. That allowed her to immediately fall asleep in his arms.
Shigaraki held her there for a long time after. He raked his eyes greedily across her body, letting himself carve every detail deep into his memory. He knew he didn’t need to, not anymore. Her boyfriend, her parents, hell, whether or not she got into Todai with him, it was all a non-issue now. There was no reason for him to lose this anymore. She wasn’t going anywhere in life without him. He was going to be able to revel in this sight for the rest of his life now. And he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was for that.
He chuckled a bit at that. Well, maybe lucky wasn’t the right word. This was all by design after all, weeks of very deliberate planning and deception. It was just like he’d always been taught. It didn’t matter what hand you’ve been dealt — and Tomura Shigaraki had certainly been dealt a shit hand in a lot of ways — a real winner made his own luck.
Sensei would be mad, Shigaraki knew that much. Everyone would be mad in fact, but he didn’t care. He was just following the fundamental lesson Sensei himself had instilled in him the day they met.
Take whatever you want, and fuck all the rest.
Several minutes into hearing those sweet deep breaths of unconsciousness from the beautiful girl in his arms, Shigaraki finally peeled his fingers away from her cunt.
And slid a wide hand up to cradle her tummy.
It was dark when she woke up, not a single one of Shigaraki’s many monitors or television lit the windowless room. That was odd for a couple of reasons, the first of which being that the overhead lighting had definitely been on when she’d dozed off. The second of which was that any time Shigaraki wasn’t preoccupied with helping her study or studying her, he was chronically attached to at least one screen, if not multiple, so it was more than a bit odd for him to have zero on. The reason for the lack of blue light however became quickly apparent as her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness.
Shigaraki wasn’t here.
She was totally alone in his room, alone and tucked into his bed. Had he gone to the bathroom or something? But then why would all the lights be off? It seemed like he’d probably been gone for a while. Weird…
She threw off the covers and flipped her legs around with much more ease than she’d done anything over the last three days, much to her relief. However long she’d been out, the sleep had clearly done her some good. The pounding in her head and pelvis had finally ceased, perhaps just in time for her to actually start her period. She did feel some dampness between her legs after all. Although…
Her face heated up as she remembered the much more likely cause of that.
Damn it, she thought with a groan, dropping her head into her hands. She couldn’t believe that she actually let him do that to her, for her. He was going to get entirely the wrong idea from it. The idea that she might actually like him and want to spend time with him, that there was some kind of connection between them that extended past the time she was required to spend with him to keep him satisfied. And she absolutely could not deal with that.
Being his little sex toy was one thing. A demoralizing thing, yes, but a manageable one. She’d seen the way Shigaraki treated things he objectified — games and magazines and the like. He got bored of them quickly. And if she was one of those things in his eyes, then eventually he’d get bored with her too and she’d be free.
If he was attached to her though? Had found connection in her and a desire to keep her in his life? She didn’t even want to consider that nightmare scenario.
She made her way out into the hallway, looking up and down from the empty bathroom on one end of the hall to the top of the staircase on the other. She didn’t have to contemplate the lack of presence on this floor for long though, when she heard Shigaraki’s voice echoing up from downstairs, talking emphatically to Kurogiri, she assumed.
She couldn’t hear exactly what he was talking about, but whatever it was, he was being particular about it. “Don’t overcook” and “perfect” were a few of the words she managed to catch, so it was about food, maybe? The accompanying sounds of sizzling pans and clanking cookware would certainly support that. As would the smell that suddenly hit her.
It wasn’t an unpleasant smell by any means. In fact, it was salmon, one of her favorites. But for some reason at that moment, the smell hit her with a particular intensity that made her feel overwhelmed.
And really fucking nauseous.
She just barely made it to the toilet at the end of the hall, not even fully down to her knees by the time she was emptying her stomach into the bowl. It wasn’t just a brief moment of sickness either. The bouts were loud and long, she was sure that it echoed throughout the entire apartment. It left her red-faced, skin covered and hair clumped with sweat, not to mention still gagging long after she had nothing left to gag on.
A hand she barely even noticed came to rest on the small of her back in the midst of it all. It was only in the aftermath, spent and dry-heaving that she could process the fact that it was Shigaraki, kneeling at her side, patiently stroking small circles into her clammy skin and encouraging her softly.
“Let it out. Just let it all out.”
She groaned once she finally seemed to have a solid thirty seconds of dry, steady breath. And Shigaraki used that respite to nudge a glass of water into her hands.
“Here.”
She didn’t argue or agree, just took it from him with shaky hands, tossing half of it just into her mouth to swish around and spit the remaining bitterness from her tongue.
“Drink some of it too.”
She nodded shakily, still too drained and disoriented to be irritated with his telling her what to do, or suspicious of the fact that he was being so nice.
And still, as she took entirely too long to finish the rest of her water with timid little sips, he just knelt on the ground with her, moving the hand on her back to rest on her knee, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where a bruise would undoubtedly form.
Finally, after a long, silent stretch, she managed to croak out, “W-What time is it?”
“Only seven,” he answered, “Kurogiri’s got dinner almost ready downstairs. Seared salmon, brown rice, avocado salad—”
She whined, shaking her head roughly at the very implication of food.
“Don’t like salmon?”
“I-I do… It’s just—” she gagged a little as she remembered that smell that had set this all off in the first place, “Th-The smell right now. It’s too much…”
“Oh yeah…” he nodded understandingly, muttering something to himself that she couldn’t quite make out. It sounded kind of like, “Heightened” and “Read about that…”
Her brows furrowed a bit, frustrated and confused. She was getting the feeling that he was really not telling her something.
“W-What?”
Shigaraki just waved her off, “No, that’s fine, that’s fine. Salmon’s not the only thing he made. There’s sauteed spinach, wakame tofu soup, toasted—”
Jesus Christ, was Kurogiri cooking for an army down there or something?
Well, whoever it was all for, and as delicious as it all sounded in theory, imagining those foods in practice right now was making her feel sick all over again.
“Mm-mm, Mm-mm!” she whined, shaking her head again.
She didn’t want to risk opening her mouth right now, lest she blow chunks all over the front of Shigaraki’s shirt. Although wouldn’t that be a nice little serving of karma for him…
“You need to eat something,” he insisted, more lecturey than she’d ever heard him, but with a strange gentleness to his voice as well, “And you need to drink some more too. You’re totally dehydrated.”
She shook her head more emphatically at that, which only resulted in her falling forward into his chest.
He caught her before she could fall any further, scolding her not too harshly, in fact, a bit whimsically, “Is this how you’re gonna be the whole time?”
She pulled her head back to look at him, a confused furrow in her brows that brought the corners of his lips up.
“It’s not a bad look on you to be honest. All weak and petulant,” he brought a hand to pinch lightly at her cheek, “It’s kinda cute actually.”
Her eyes narrowed, finally feeling her stomach steady enough in her to be annoyed. He chuckled, just as amused and endeared by this look as the last.
“Well how about okayu?” he offered with a patronizing little lilt, “And maybe some ginger tea?”
He clearly wasn’t going to let this go. And infuriatingly, he was right not to. She definitely was in no shape to go home on this empty stomach.
She sighed.
“Yeah… Yeah okay.”
Going at her own shaking, snailish pace, Shigaraki helped her up onto her legs, pulling her immediately into his side as he led her back towards his bedroom. Normally she’d protest, stick an elbow right into his ribs and storm on ahead of him, but honestly she needed the help right now. So she sucked it up and let him lead her back into his bed.
But that didn’t stop her from eying him suspiciously as he propped his pillows up behind her and tucked her back in under his comforter, the overall way he doted and fretted over her, even stopping to look back at her one more time from the doorway before he returned downstairs to give Kurogiri the new marching orders.
She dropped her head back against the pillows when finally alone, a bad feeling settling heavier and heavier in her stomach. This was beyond weird, the way he was acting. Sure, the guy was overbearing and constantly demanding of her attention, stupidly needy even. But doting? Not only willing but eager to put her needs ahead of his own? Caring deeply about her actual well-being and not just what he wanted to be her well-being? This was all way too out of character for him.
“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean. N-Not just the Doctor either… If um… If anything’s bothering you.”
She sighed at the memory. Alright, maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d shown at least some capability and even interest in her wants and well-being, he wasn’t a complete monster.
But still, all of this? The cooing and the caring and the, erm, servicing even that he’d done? It felt like too much. Like she was missing something really key about it all.
Like something was wrong .
Whether she ended up getting lost in that train of thought for long, or Kurogiri had already had some okayu whipped up downstairs, she wasn’t sure, but she was startled by how quickly it seemed that Shigaraki returned with a breakfast tray in hand. She cocked her head as he set it up over her lap, this was a lot more robust than she was expecting, and, she realized as she examined everything on the tray, a lot more stocked as well.
There was okayu, front and center for her, yes. But also on the tray was another small bowl of soup (looked like the wakame that Shigaraki had mentioned, a thing of plain yogurt (the really fancy kind that came in the glass jars), a glass of orange juice…
And a little dish of four pills.
Painkillers or antiemetics maybe? They looked more like vitamins…
“Go ahead and start with the okayu if you want,” Shigaraki explained as he climbed up into the bed next to her, “But I want you to try and get some of the wakame and yogurt down too…”
As he settled down, his legs flush with her own, he continued to rattle off instructions and explanations for the rest of her tray, sending her mind completely spinning, faster and faster, like a goddamn Gravitron.
And she was ready to get the fuck off.
“...if nothing else though, take the vitamins. You need the folate, calcium, iron, and the omega-3 especially, since you don’t want the salmon—”
“Okay, stop, stop, stop !”
Shigaraki paused, having the audacity to look at her like she was crazy for snapping.
“Jesus—what the hell are you even talking about Shigaraki?!” she demanded, “What’d you say, folate? What? What is all this?”
He cocked his head, clearly playing innocent. Whatever this was, he was clearly enjoying the slow unraveling of it all.
“What’re you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about!” she snapped, “All this attention and doting and food stuff! What the hell is this all about?!”
He just smiled back at her, taking in how pretty she looked, even when mad (especially when mad sometimes), God, to think that this really was his forever now. He wondered if they had a girl, how much she’d look like her. He hoped a lot…
“I just want to make sure you’re getting all the vitamins and nutrients you need…”
He reached over then, spreading his hand flat against her stomach.
“ Both of you .”
She froze.
No.
No, he couldn’t mean—
She tried to speak, tried to ask what the ever-loving- fuck he was talking about, but her mouth had seemed to go dry. She tried several times to open and wet it a bit, but every time she did, it felt like her throat was closing too. It took at least four desperate attempts for her to finally force out one rasped:
“... what? ”
Shigaraki’s grin widened, and he started to rub circles gently across her belly.
“You’re gonna look so cute, all big and round with my kid,” he giggled suddenly as he remembered something, “Oh, and your tits too. I wonder how big they’re gonna get…”
She stared at him, unblinking, unbreathing. Everything but un-fucking-existing.
He couldn’t be serious. He was fucking with her. He had to be fucking with her!
“Th-That’s not funny.”
His grin evened a little, not disappearing outright, but settling away some of its blissful excitement into something more coyly victorious.
“I said it already,” he reminded, “When have I ever been funny?”
She shook her head in disbelief.
“N-No. No, no, no this isn’t— there’s no way—”
“I’ve got the tests ready when you need to pee, but I think it’s pretty clear. These are all the symptoms I read about.”
“No!” she insisted, “N-No, no— this is, it’s my period! It’s just a day late, it’s not—!”
He chuckled, “I know the symptoms can be similar, but come on. When’s the last time you’ve hurled like that thanks to your period? And the sensitivity to smell? You know this is different.”
Crumbling, every argument she could possibly think of was crumbling to dust before she could even get the thought fully formed. And cruel, vicious reality was more than happy to take its place.
“B-But my birth control pills…”
“Fertility pills,” he explained, his splitting-grin returning in full, “I would’ve preferred to get Clomid from the doctor, but it looks like the over the counter stuff and tracking your cycle worked just fine.”
Her stomach dropped. Pieces of memories, peculiar behaviors and nagging thoughts she’d had over the last two months falling into place. How there were stretches of times where he’d cancel their sessions, only to insist they make them up a few specific days in a row. How he wanted to go multiple rounds a lot those days. How he’d stopped wanting blowjobs from her entirely. How he seemed to only want to fuck her from behind or with her knees pressed hard into her chest, positions he could fuck her the deepest in.
And how he’d have her stay still with his cock buried in her after he came.
Back then, she just thought he was being weird and pervy. And in a way she was right.
Horribly fucking right.
Shigaraki shifted his legs away from her so that he could bring his head down to her lap, laying his cheek blissfully against her belly.
“Was so easy,” he hummed against her skin, “Like your body was just waiting for me to knock you up. Waiting for me to make you mine…”
His hands moved across her body, one coiling behind her back so that he could pull her tighter into him, the other lacing his fingers through her own. The fingers on her trembling left hand.
“Both of you, forever,” he growled happily, a predator who had finally and definitively sunk his teeth into his prey, “All mine.”
More Posts from Flamme-shigaraki-spithoe and Others
say you need me.
Tomura Shigaraki x f!reader
rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 3,248 content: porn with plot, definitely not a depiction of a healthy relationship, jealous/possessive behavior, smut [rough, fingering - receiving, oral - giving, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [collars, spit, choking, degradation, biting, size, breeding], fluff summary: you hadn't been trying to make him jealous, yet the result is just the same.
“Look at you…”
If anyone overheard the sentence he uttered behind closed doors, they’d only hear the reverent tone behind his words – they wouldn’t see his rough thumb rub under your chin, spreading the spit that had run down it. Temporarily fooled by his masquerade of gentleness a harsh thrust forward from his hips caught you off guard, choking in a way you normally didn’t when his thick shaft pushed into your throat.
“Such a dumb little cockwhore.”
Warm tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you blinked hard, allowing your burning eyes the momentary reprieve. His thumb then reached to catch one of the spilled tears, tsking his tongue against his teeth in disapproval.
“Look at me,” he reminded, slipping his hand to the back of your head to hold your position, his cock resting heavily on your tongue as he awaited your attention again. Your heavy eyelids fluttered open and sought out his red gaze again, your own hazy eyes displaying how nearly half an hour with his cock in your mouth was affecting you. “Oh, don’t you even think about looking away from me…”
You hummed around his shaft to communicate you understood, eyes staying on his as he slipped bit by bit of his cock back into your mouth, his fingers gripping your hair increasingly harsh the closer he neared your throat. An appreciative groan slipped through his lips as your bruised throat swallowed him again, your willingness to please him silencing the parts of your brain begging for more air.
As he continued to use your mouth his pace only increased, his eyes never leaving your face to watch the mess he was making – tears still streamed down your cheeks and there was so much drool a wet spot had formed on your shirt, and you didn’t dare blink until he did now. He hated being angry with you, but he’d never miss the opportunity to punish you accordingly.
“That’s…ah…that’s better,” his voice was a low rumble as he spoke, his fingers threading through your hair just slightly gentler as he halted his thrusts, holding your head in place again while his other hand slipped to your neck. As he pulled his cock from your mouth slowly to allow you a much needed breath, his fingers lightly traced the metal of a collar he’d placed on you long ago now before one looped into the hoop on it, tugging you upward lightly.
Despite your breathless dizziness you were eager to comply with him, hopeful that you had given him enough to earn reprieve for the growing pressure at your core. As soon as you were able you steadied yourself with your hands against his chest, your head instinctually craning upward toward his face while you awaited a kiss.
That pulled a smile from him – the smile he seldom gave you that reminded you more of a predator than a person feeling joy – and he shook his head firmly as he continued to hold you close by the loop on your neck. His free hand slipped to hold your waist in a bruising grasp and he lowered his head, his lips hovering above yours in a further display of control.
“You’re so desperate for me,” you could feel the quiet purr behind his words rumbling through his chest and into your hands, and he gave the ring another tug, pulling you close enough to barely feel the brush of your lips against his. “What’s this pretty collar around your neck say?”
“‘Tomura’s Toy,’” you were whining for him now, your voice needy and desperate in ways you didn’t recognize, standing on your toes in an effort to get any amount closer to him that he’d allow. But with every inch you grew nearer he retreated, his teasing smile mirroring the mischief in his eyes. “‘Cause ‘m yours, Tomura.”
“Mm…” the quiet, contemplative hum carried a depth of meaning, his hand once again slipping to grasp your throat lightly as he held you close. “It looked to me like you’d forgotten.”
“Never,” you were using a perfectly docile and honey sweet tone that you knew he so often reveled in. His fingers lightly stroked your neck, not quite angry enough to ignore the softness beneath his fingers, too addicted to the way your skin felt against his to deny himself the pleasure. “I’m yours, Tomura. ’m always yours.”
“I know you are, kitten. But I think you need a bigger reminder. Don’t you?”
“I need whatever you think I need, Tomura.”
“That’s more like it,” he cooed, his tone just barely faltering into something much more peaceful with you. He sounded sweeter, but to you there was no questioning the quiet rage that boiled beneath the surface still.“Open up.”
He couldn’t help but release a quiet laugh at how quickly your mouth fell open at his instruction, one of his fingers moving upward to trace your bottom lip lightly before he leaned forward to spit in your mouth, enjoying the sight on your tongue for a moment before he tapped his finger against your chin to silently give your next direction. You swallowed greedily, enjoying the flashes of adoration and need in his darkened eyes as you hummed in quiet approval.
“Such a dirty girl for me.”
He removed himself from you and sat on the bed that had grown much more comfortable since you had made your way into it, leaning back against the wall to calculate his next movement. You whined at the loss of him – your swollen bottom lip pushing out in a quiet pout, inviting him to bite into it again. Pulling his own shirt over his head he tossed it to the side, holding up a hand to motion for you to stop when you moved to climb into the bed.
“Clothes off first.”
It may have been the fastest your clothes had ever been torn from yourself and yet in your mind it felt like an eternity, his eyes watching you intently as you peeled away each layer until you were left bare to him again. He kept his hand raised to communicate he wanted you to continue your stillness, eyes taking in the full length of your body several times over.
“In my lap, pet.”
You were overjoyed to finally be granted skin-to-skin contact again, appreciative when your soaked core connected with his thigh, the pressure and warmth immediately pulling a moan from your lips.
“I missed you,” you cooed, leaning forward to connect your lips to his neck, something that still took him by surprise when you did it. A quiet groan slipped through his lips and his head fell back to grant you further access, one of his hands desperately clinging to your hip. He encouraged you to rock your hips, your slickness spreading along his thigh as you complied.
His free hand slid to cup your breast, squeezing roughly before he changed his mind, abandoning your chest to slip his hand further. He connected a finger to your clit as you licked up the side of his neck, moaning his name into his ear as he gave the sensitive bud a pinch. Desperate for more, you bit at his neck lightly, paying mind to the more sensitive areas with a gentle swipe of your tongue.
“I want to hear you,” he growled as he slipped his middle finger into your soaked entrance, needy to hear more from you than he was getting and intent on making sure anyone still lingering heard as well. You cried out in pleasure at the sudden intrusion, lazily lifting your head from where you had it buried in his neck to press a wet kiss to his jaw, then his cheek, and finally his lips as you fucked yourself onto his finger slowly.
“I need you,” your vowels were dragged out and voice breathless and low as you spoke against his lips, the end turned to a soft whine as his index finger joined the middle. He swirled them slowly, the same smug smile once again brightening his features as your mouth fell open in pleasure. He took advantage of your parted lips to lean forward and sink his teeth into your bottom lip, blood coming just beneath the surface after the use your mouth had gotten today.
“Louder.”
“I need you, Tomura,” you whimpered your response against his lips, muffling the end of his name with your starved kiss. You dragged your core against his thigh again, the friction against your clit with his fingers inside you causing your thighs to clench around his tighter.
He kissed you heavily, his tongue claiming your mouth immediately and greedily tasting every inch as he pistoned his fingers into your dripping sex. Despite your clouded mind you reached beside you to wrap your hand around his throbbing cock, stroking his length just how you knew he liked it.
When it was obvious you needed a breath he released your mouth, lowering his own head to claim one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling the nub slowly before he began to suck. With your free hand you ran your fingers through his hair, holding him close to your chest as he worshiped your breasts, the only place he was uncharacteristically gentle with you.
It wasn’t an absolute, though, and he reminded you of that as he turned his head to sink his teeth into the plush of your breast, the growl in his chest bordering on feral as you yelled out his name. When he was certain the mark would be purple he leaned back, running his tongue along the indents before kissing across to your other breast.
“You can be louder than that.”
His teeth claimed an area on your unmarked breast as he curled his fingers against the perfect spot inside you, and your vision went white as an orgasm ripped through you, his voice leaving your mouth so loudly you heard someone opt to leave in the distance. He continued to stroke your velvet walls as he licked at the newest mark, hips bucking upward to meet your hand and now more desperate than ever to be inside you.
It wasn’t like him to give you a moment to breathe after an orgasm, and tonight was certainly no different.
“Come here,” he urged, kissing up the front of your neck to your chin as he removed his fingers from you, reaching to grasp both of your hips. You released your hold on his cock and looked at him with pupil blown eyes, your breaths coming through your nose ragged. He may have been reducing you to being incapable of speech, but it was obvious you were hanging on to his every word, exactly how he wanted you to be forever. With a tug at your waist he encouraged you fully into his lap, licking his lips in anticipation of the feeling to come. “‘m gonna fuck you.”
“Please,” you whimpered, too cock dumb already to form a proper sentence or add anything meaningful as far as conversation went. He loved when you were this way, eyes wide as you stared at him expectantly, waiting for any word he could give that would allow you to make him happy.
He loved the power he had over you, and that meant he loved the ability to make you panic over the thought of losing him…especially now, when you were waiting for him to fuck you into exhaustion. Still, it was impossible for him to resist.
“I should make you fuckin’ beg for it. Should make you get back on your knees and beg for my cock.”
“I will, sir, I –”
He’d honestly expected a whine in response, and hearing your willingness to beg if that is what he asked made his heart clench, that seldom found fulfilled feeling fueling every fiber of his being. One of his hands remained on your hip as he leaned forward to kiss your lips softly for the first time today, the other coming to the back of your head where he once again tangled his fingers into your hair.
“I know you will, now you’re back to being my good little slut.”
He grasped your hip harder and slammed you downward onto his awaiting cock, dependent entirely on your own arousal to be the proper amount of lubricant. A series of moans, cries and his name fell from your lips as he pulled each inch of his cock back out before slamming in to the hilt again.
“Mmph, s’tight,” he growled out, leaning his head forward until his forehead connected with yours. With his eyes screwed shut in focus and intoxication at the feeling of your tight cunt welcoming him back he didn’t anticipate the gentle kiss you’d press to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head barely to claim your lips again as he opted for a brutal pace, thrusting his cock into you faster and harder each time. His hold on you tightened, his fingers pulling your hair firmly as he leaned to lick above your pulse point before muttering. “Mine.”
“Yours, Tomura.”
Was it ever going to be enough? It didn’t matter. You’d never tire of trying.
“Again,” he pleaded, his voice filled with an unhinged desperation reserved entirely for you. As he spoke his lips moved against your neck and he released his hold on your hip, the momentary loss quickly remedied as he connected his thumb to your clit and began rubbing circles to match his thrusts. “More. Need…more.”
“Yours,” the word was barely there through panted breaths, your hands coming to support yourself with a tight hold on his shoulders. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders and he responded with instinct, his teeth once again sinking into a very public place on your neck, intent on marking you in any way he could to get his point across. “Yours…yours…fuck…yours a thousand times.”
He growled against your skin as his pace became impossibly faster, his thrusts into you rough and relentless and undoubtedly causing your hips and thighs to bruise. If you couldn’t walk tomorrow, so be it – he preferred when you didn’t leave his room and he could keep you all to himself, and he didn’t need you to be able to walk to be able to use your holes.
Neither of you were destined to last forever at a pace like this, but with his perfectly positioned thrusts with the head of his cock intentionally rubbing behind your clit and perfectly timed flicks to your clit, it wasn’t a surprise your thighs started shaking first.
You tried to tell him it was coming, instead the only sounds that left your mouth were high pitched moans and cries until you screamed his name, throwing your head back in ecstasy as you dragged your fingernails down his back – you’d likely drawn blood, and he’d thank you for it later. For now he held off his own release to fully feel yours – to memorize how your walls clenched and fluttered around his cock, how it felt like your sex squeezed him tighter so he couldn’t pull out.
When he’d indulged himself in your release enough a high groan of his own erupted from his chest, tilting your head forward to kiss you again sloppily as his own release ripped through him. Hot ropes of his seed painted your walls and pulled another moan from you, your mouth continuing to move against his in a blissed-out kiss until he’d emptied himself in you.
He was still unhappy, but he was satiated. He proved that fact by immediately situating both of you into a comfortable lying position with you on your back and him on his side next to you, eyes not leaving your freshly fucked hole, transfixed on watching his spend drip from you and being able to push it back into you slowly. He didn’t want children, but the thought of you pregnant with his child and the message it would deliver to everyone who saw you was enticing.
When he was content with the number of times he’d repeated this motion with you he leaned forward, kissing up what seemed like the most sensitive parts of your body until he reached your lips again.
“Don’t repeat your behavior from today, little one.”
The warning carried more weight than he needed to specify.
“Yes, Shiggy,” you breathed out, rubbing the tip of your nose against his in one of your adorable signs of affection, pulling a deep exhale from his nose – not quite a genuine laugh, but close enough for him.
“Dabi serves his purpose well, and the loss would be…significant,” he continued quietly, one of his hands coming to rest against your cheek where his thumb brushed the flushed skin there. His eyes, though they were much more relaxed than they were hours ago, were still intense and full of a darkness that promised to destroy worlds if this was a problem again. “But I will kill him if you give me a reason to. I’d prefer you not to put it to the test.”
You hated disappointing him, and while you held no desire to argue with him further, you had to ensure he knew that it hadn’t been your intent to make him jealous.
“But I only…”
“Ah ah ah…”
He silenced you with a heavy kiss that did nothing to indicate how much he’d had of you already, the hunger behind his movements unfaltering. As you were focused on his kiss you were taken by surprise by his hand raising your thigh around his waist, his cock pushing into your velvet walls again. Your hips thrust to meet him but his hand stopped your movements, holding you tightly and still, losing himself temporarily in the feeling of your overstimulated pussy clenching around him tightly.
“No more arguing, sweet pet. You’ve already been taught your lesson. Isn’t that right?”
This was softness with him. He was done being angry, and his normal insistence to fight and remain in his sour mood had once again melted away for you, revealing the deepest parts of him that never left this room. He was choosing to put the one emotion he understood, the feeling he could always hide behind, aside because he much preferred moments of tranquility with you than moments of turmoil.
If you ruined a moment like this, you would never forgive yourself.
“Yes, Tomura. I’m sorry.”
“I know you are,” he cooed, nipping at your bottom lip again to elicit another quiet cry from your lips. “Tell me again.”
Not an apology…no. He needed something much deeper now, in the darkness of his bedroom where no one else was around to see his vulnerability. You’d been saying it all night, but the way you had made him feel today lingered too much to allow him to truly believe it. You’d have to try again tomorrow, and even still you would probably be feeling his wrath resurfacing for days to come.
“I’m yours always,” you whispered quietly, honestly, the words settling into his mind for the night to aid him in a decent sleep. As you buried your face in his neck his arms circled around your waist again, the two of you clinging to one another with his cock still buried inside you. “You’re all I need.”
The sentiment was shared in his heart despite the fact the words went unrepeated.
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Mdni! 18+ // Tomura Shigaraki x Bunny!Reader
Tw: smut, bunny!f!reader, sex work, dry humping, body exploration(?), scent marking and hickeys, possessiveness if you squint, fluff really, shy Tomura but gets comfortable, intimacy, consent is sexy, concept is from pink heart jam, words: 3k (damn), not proof read sry ♡
Tomura knows this is stupid.
First of all, how would he explain to the league that he spends money in a brothel when they can hardly afford food right now. They'll kill him. Not that he owes them anything… But he knows what this looks like. As their leader he should care for them… but this is important.
Then, what if the girl recognizes him? That would be a whole mess. Would he get a refund at least?
And of course… the shame and self doubt that hits him now as he sits in the waiting room.
But he just needs to know. He will go crazy if he doesn't know.
“Room 8 is now ready.”
That is Tomura's room. He feels lightheaded and sick. But he needs to know. He just needs to know. He gets up and everything spins. One step at a time. He hopes the girl doesn't recognize him. Tomura opens the door to you kneeling in a bow on the tatami.
“Good Evening, sir. I am happy to–” you rise and both you and Tomura freeze. The only thing audible is the door clicking shut.
“Boss?!”
“(Y/N)?!” He grimaces and his cheeks go from a lifeless pale to a hot pink.
You get up and notice how his eyes drop to your lingerie clad body for a moment, he turns his entire face to the side, gulping. His body is so painfully tense, you can feel it.
“Didn't you recognize me in the picture?” You chuckle to lighten the mood. You grab your rope and throw it on.
“I was so nervous I didn't really look. I just said yes to everything,” Tomura mumbles. “I'll just go.”
“Cmon. You already paid. I just call front desk and set you up with someone else,” you walk to the phone. “So… You wanna have your first time? Is that it?” You ask, assuming from what you know. He doesn't seem like someone who suddenly gets so horny he needs to go to a brothel. You would send him to different colleague's depending on his answer though. He looks tortured enough.
“Y-yes.”
You pick up the phone and dial.
“I just want to know what intimacy is,” Tomura follows up and jumps a little when you slam the phone. He frowns. Your face is different now, softer. “What?”
“You're already here… I don't see why we–”
Tomura grimaces again and waves his hands hysterically, declining.
“What?” You cross your arms and turn to him. “Am I not your type? You don't find me attractive enough?” It's teasing. You know it's not that. You've caught him staring more than once when you're with the league.
“No! That's not– I never said that!”
You hold your pinky out. “Pinky promise this is a thing between us and that it won't make things awkward at work.”
“At work?” He looks at you funny. “Aren't you at work right now?”
You chuckle. “At my day job then? Happy?”
He looks at your pinky. You are serious. Are you scared he might hurt your colleagues? He doesn’t understand why you would do this. You know him. You… can… back out. Maybe it's the money.
“Why?” He needs to know. Your eyes look even more beautiful behind painted eyelids and darker lashes. He has never seen you wear makeup before. You always look at everyone with softness though– you look at him with so much kindness right now… it's so weird. You are a villain too. He could never look at someone like that.
You sigh. “You said intimacy. You want to know what intimacy is. If I send you to one of the other girls I can't be sure that that is what you get.”
“Oh,” he feels a tug in his stomach. He raises his hand and links his pinky with yours. “I see.”
You nod and smile then drop to one knee, undoing the laces of his shoes. “Let's hurry this along and not lose more time off your session.”
“A-are you really sure?” He panics. You are you. Like you know him. You know who he is and you see him nearly everyday. How could you possibly be okay with this? He's kinda gross right? Dabi always says that.
“Ah–” Tomura bites his tongue.
You hug him loosely, your hand strokes through his hair, untangling some knots. “I am sure. I won't do anything you don't want to do, okay? Just let me know. We can start with just laying down in our underwear– talk and see?”
You intertwine your fingers with his and lead him to the bed. You aren't even scared to touch his hands? “Want me to take off your clothes or do it yourself?”
“I'll do it.” He turns away. Damn… this is awkward. He takes his hoodie off first then kicks his pants off and quickly crawls into the bed, laying down next to you.
“Why are you working here?” He asks, staring at the ceiling.
“It's money,” you say casually and bring your hand to his chest. He jumps but gives you a nod as you stop, looking at him and waiting for confirmation. He was just surprised. You softly caress his skin, letting your finger move in intricate patterns over the dips and curves of his torso.
“But…-” No, he doesn't know.
“People fetishisize quirks like mine,” you plop yourself up on your elbow and look at him. His eyes wander to the bunny ears. “They have my entire life. I am in control here at least, you know.”
“But… Why are you still… with everything?” He tries to read your face but can't.
“Tomu… if it wasn't for me still working we would be starving,” you chuckle. “And Dabi is so insufferable when he's hangry.” You play with his hair. You touch him so freely. It feels nice.
But what truly made his heart skip a beat was the nickname. “You're right.” He sighs with a little smile. You have never seen him smile with such softness.
“I don't really know anything about you,” you whisper. Your thumb softly traces the scar on his lip. “I'd like to know more about you.”
His heart pinches again. “Why?” You're probably just saying it because you have to… this is just a job to you after all. He isn't special or anything.
You smile, frowning too. “Because I care about you?”
His lips part as he stares at you. Tomura might burst. What is happening? Someone cares about him? No… No you are just saying these things.
“So… Tomura, I need to know, are you a tits or ass guy?” You smile, saying it jokingly.
He goes red. “I… I don't know. I never thought about it much.”
“Hmm… I see. Can you sit up for me?”
Tomura leans against the cushioned headboard and watches how you turn your body to him.
“Can I sit there?”
“M-my lap? S-sure.”
You straddle him and his heartbeat picks up. Holy shit. You lean your face against his shoulder as you fumble with your bra in the back.
Tomura closes his eyes, husking, “you smell so nice.”
“Thank you,” you smile so sweetly. You take your bra off but Tomura makes an effort, trying so hard to look you in the eyes. You swear a droplet of sweat runs down his forehead. “You can look… you can touch them too.”
“Heh,” he is so nervous. “What if I– accidentally– my quirk–”
“I trust you,” your tone is silvery and you lean in to kiss his cheek, your breasts squished against his chest.
“You do?” He frowns. That's really stupid of you? He doesn’t even trust himself.
You take his hands and guide them to your tits. Tomura sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes. They are so soft. Holy Shit.
He is timid, gentle squeezes and fleeting touches. His pinkies are extended away. His cheeks are flushed pink with the red in his eyes nearly gone.
It is cute. You suck in air sharply when his next squeeze is harsher. He looks at you panicked. “You're all good,” you rasp.
He drags his thumbs over your nipples then gropes the flesh of your breasts again. He sighs.
“Let's move on?” You ask. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your chest flush to his and laying your head against his shoulder. “Don't touch my tail.”
Tomura looks down the curve of your spine, seeing the fluffy round scut. You usually hide it. He didn't even know you had one. It is so cute. “Okay.” His hands timidly slide down your back and grab your ass. It's different but holy shit. Tomura bites his lip.
“Can I kiss your neck?” You ask.
“Hm.” You place the first kiss where his nails left scars upon scars and he hates it. It makes his body feel so icky. “… I don't like that,” he whispers, scared he will ruin the mood.
“That's okay,” you rise to meet his eyes and smile. “How about here?” You lean down a bit further, placing the same kiss to his collarbone. This time it makes his body light ablaze.
“There is fine,” he sighs, still groping your ass.
You start to kiss and gently suck the skin there and Tomura is going insane. That… plus holding your perfect butt. The fact you trust him to touch you with no second guessing. That might be the best part. You aren't scared at all. He is dreaming. This is perfect. His hands timidly slide down the curve of your thighs all the way to your knees and back up. On their next drag down, his nails softly scratch against your flesh. You both take shaky breaths.
“Were thighs an option too?” He asks.
You giggle, “yes.”
There is absolutely no way you don't feel his twitching cock. He is glad he is doing this with you. Thinking about it now… Could he really trust anyone else? No. It was supposed to be you from the start. That he ended up here was no coincidence.
“You're doing so well,” you tell him and he sinks further into this fuzzy feeling.
He brings one hand to your chin, holding it gently, while the other hand twirls your hair. “Can I touch your ears?”
They lop for better access and you nod. He gently caresses a finger down over the fur. “I didn’t think they'd be so soft!” He says with wide eyes.
You smile. “Can I… kiss you?” You ask.
“Where?” He asks.
You point to his lips. “There.”
His eyes widen again. “Really?”
You nod. “Is that okay?”
He nods and gulps. You lean in and your lips softly peck his to test the waters. He nods again, still staring at you.
“Close your eyes. It will feel better,” you chuckle. He closes his eyes immediately and you drag out the kiss this time. He does not know what he is supposed to do. He just does something, timidly moving his mouth too. His hands grope at your thighs.
You kiss harder, opening your mouth wider. You taste so good. Tomura groans, grabbing your hips. You don't even flinch.
You kiss him like that until his lips are slightly swollen. His head falls back against the headboard.
“That's so nice,” he says.
You nod.
“You're so… amazing,” he whispers, closing his eyes. “Look at me saying dumb shit.”
You hug him, playing with his hair. “It's not dumb at all.”
He squeezes tightly. “I feel… safe. That is so dumb to say… for me..”
You look at the wall behind you and tears nearly shoot into your eyes. “I do too… With you.” You pull back and cup his face. “I guess that's what intimacy can be… Feeling safe with each other.”
Tomura thinks that over for a second. He has never before felt like this… It makes so much sense. He likes this.
He gently nudges you forward so you are laying on the bed and he is on top of you now. He really just wanted to see what you'd look like underneath him… stunning of course. “Can I kiss your neck?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
He leans down and nibbles on your delicate skin. He isn't gentle but you are sure he doesn't realize just how sensitive the skin is. Your hands are raking through his hair, tugging slightly ever so often.
He pulls back and you see the glint in his red eyes. “You gave me a hickey?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“I didn't… mean to! I swear!”
You flip him on his back with your strength, grinning down at him with your hands on his chest. “Well, I guess then I have to–” You rub the underside of your chin against his shoulder, his face, his head… Everywhere.
He chuckles softly. “Are you… Scent marking me?”
“Yes.”
You two giggle. Tomura doesn't giggle… but right now, right here in these four walls… he can.
You finish by kissing him again. “All mine now,” you say and Tomura feels his chest contort. He wants to be all yours. What would that be like when this now is already so amazing. “So… what do we do about that?” You ask.
He knows what that is. He is painfully aware. It is painful at this point. “I… I don't know,” he admits. “I don't know if I can go all the way.”
You smile, “that's so okay! What do you want to do?”
He hesitates.
“You can want things, Tomu,” you say. “What do you want?”
He covers his face. “Can we do it like this?”
You need a second to catch on but you do. “Of course. Will you sit up again?”
At first he doesn't understand why you want him in that position again but once you are straddling him again and your arms are loosely wrapped around his shoulders, your breath fanning against his face… he gets it. You are so close to each other like this… It is just you and him right now– and the clock. He sees how you swiftly look over.
“How long–”
“Enough,” you tell him. “Is that okay?” You roll your hips, it's not harsh but not gentle either. It creates the perfect friction between your clothed groins.
Tomura sucks in a sharp breath and his head falls back. “Y-yes,” he forces out. His eyes are squeezed shut.
You keep rocking your hips while also kissing his face in the most gentle way. He holds you by your rips, your flesh bulging in his hands.
“Oh… fuck,” he whimpers. It feels so good.
He feels your breath by his ear and goosebumps raise all over his skin. “You're being such a good boy for me,” you whisper.
“Oh–” Tomura's eyes roll back. He? Good boy? “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you kiss him again, moaning against his lips as your hips stutter.
No way. Tomura whines. This feels good for you too? Holy shit. He opens his eyes to look at you– no… to take you in and soak you up. Is it possible to combine with you? Fuse to one being? He wants to.
Your cheeks are such a cute pink, your soft ears are twitchy and your lips parted slightly as you draw heavy breaths. You look at him with so much kindness it makes him feel static. What is happening to him?
“You can touch my tail if you want.”
He swears you sounded shy. He looks at you like a little puppy. “But you said–”
“I know but I trust… You.”
You trust him… Just him. Him alone.
His hand slowly moves down your back and he uses his middle and index finger to form a v shape with which he cups the base of the scut. He feels you shiver all over. Your forehead falls against his sweaty shoulder and you whimper softly. You never stop rolling your hips through all of it– if anything your movements become more greedy.
“(Y/N)--” Tomura whines, squeezing his eyes shut. He can't take it any longer. He's about to fall apart, come undone at the seams. And he is happy about it.
“I got you,” you whisper softly, caressing his cheek. “Cum for me.”
“Ah, shit–” his whole body jerks and his hands drop to his side, fingers clenching to tight fists. “Ha. ahh.” He breathes heavily, everything spins.
Your soft kisses on his cheek bring him back to reality. His heart calms down, he catches his breath. What the hell.
“You okay?” You ask, your eyelashes brush against his cheek.
“Yes,” he laughs. He just laughs. He doesn't know why. It's an eerie sound to him. Why would he laugh? He can feel you smile too.
The red light on top of the door now flicks on. His time with you is over. His heart sinks. Was any of this even real? He wonders. It felt real.
“You still have 15 minutes.” You say and hug him closer to yourself. “No need to rush.”
“Okay,” he whispers, taking as much of you in as possible. He probably won't ever get to hold you like this again. He knows he won't.
He takes a quick shower and when he walks out you are sitting on the bed in your rope, brushing your hair.
“Text me when you're back at the hideout?” You say and walk him to the door where he puts on his shoes.
“Why?”
You frown, “so I know you got there safe?”
“Oh… Yeah,” he nods. “Uh… Thank you.”
“Did… Did it answer your question?”
Yes. “I guess.” But was it even real?
“O-okay. See you… later? You gulp.
"I guess..."
》》》》
“Where'd you get all this?!” Dabi wants to know, stuffing his mouth.
“Stole it,” you shrug.
Tomura knows you lie. He knows you probably got paid last night and then went out to buy the food. It's been a few days and he still doesn't know what to think. It was really nice… but what now? He wants more. He wants to know it was… Something. He sounds so stupid. You said he can want things but he knows it's not true… the only thing he can possibly want is to destroy… right?
He gets up and grabs a cup of noodles then walks outside… he needs some fresh air. Dabi made the water way too hot… he can barely hold the cup. Your skin felt so warm… so alive– man even a cup of noodles reminds him of you.
He feels so different. Like taking deep breaths hits a whole different level… maybe he moved up a level now that he–
Tomura knows he would get third degree burns from dropping the cup on himself so he holds it tight, letting the shock out through a deep breath instead. His whole body stands alert. He didn't expect it… he's not opposed… he's just confused.
“What are you doing?” He whispers.
You are nuzzling your head against him, over and over. “You don't smell like me anymore… I don't like it.”
He looks at you, eyes unreadable. He reaches up to your turtleneck sweater and pushes it aside. “The hickey is almost gone too… then I have to give you a new one as well. Only fair.”
“I guess you do,” you smile subtly.
Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 20) - 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 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
Chapter 20
“Sorry about the clothes,” Spinner says as the two of you walk down the front steps of the hospital. “Himiko picked them out.”
“It’s fine,” you say. As long as you have clothes that aren’t bloodstained and torn to pieces, you don’t care what you look like. You’re just glad to be headed home.
Nobody exited the near-apocalyptic conjurer fight in good shape, but some of you were worse off than the others. Nemuri was almost blasted apart trying to defeat the giant, and although she survived it, collecting the shreds of her essence back together is apparently a slow process. Keigo took a pretty sizeable hit protecting the kids, while Aizawa had to deal with a beastlike Nomu chewing the hell out of his leg before Hizashi blew its head off. But you and Tomura were by far the worse off. You’ve been in the hospital for two days. Tomura will be in for another three at least.
Most ghosts are healthy when they permanently embody themselves, but apparently it’s different for ghosts who use their own conjurers to do it. Tomura is starvation-level thin, with severe contact allergies to almost every type of medical equipment in the hospital, and the injuries he got from the fight and the rescue from the world between were bad enough to land him in the ICU at least temporarily. They had to put him in an induced coma, too. He’s had meltdowns or panic attacks or some kind of fit every time he’s woken up.
“He’ll bounce back quickly,” Mr. Yagi assured you when he came to visit. “I did.”
That was how you learned that Mr. Yagi embodied himself from his conjurer, too – except she gave him permission to do it, when she realized she was going to die of cancer anyway. Mr. Yagi’s permanent embodiment involves chronic issues with his lungs and his stomach, all of which you’re familiar with after working as his assistant for years. Chronic, but manageable. Sometimes over the past two days, it’s seemed like Tomura’s allergic to the entire human world.
Spinner told you that permanent embodiment creates complications, but you didn’t realize just how severe those complications would be. There’s no legal record of Tomura’s existence. He doesn’t have ID or health records or health insurance. There’s no next of kin who’s empowered to make decisions for him while he’s under heavy sedation, dead to the world. Hizashi’s working overtime to forge some kind of documentation for him. The doctors have been hinting that they won’t release him without it. Legally, you don’t have any right to be involved in or updated on Tomura’s medical condition, but he managed to identify you as somebody important before he went under, which means you get a little more information than you would have gotten otherwise. The doctors have been referring to you as his girlfriend. Apparently he called you his human.
Tomura might not have a next of kin, you do, and the doctors called your parents when you were too doped up on painkillers to stop them. You managed to talk them down from coming to visit, mostly by lying and then promising that they can come visit you soon. The last thing you need is for them to come here right now. Things are too chaotic. It’s hard to think that anything normal will ever happen again.
Like today. Jin and Spinner are picking you up from the hospital and driving you home to a house that, for the first time since it was built, doesn’t have a ghost in it.
When you and Spinner make it down the steps, Jin’s idling the van near the curb with Atsuhiro snoozing in the back row. Jin bursts out laughing at the sight of you, ignoring Spinner hissing at him to shut up. “No wonder Himiko wouldn’t let me see what she picked! Ready to get out of here?”
“Yes.” That’s not quite true, though. The sharp pain in your chest as the hospital vanishes around a curve in the highway tells you that you’d rather have stayed until Tomura could come with you.
You’ve been there, the few times they’ve tried waking him up. He’s promptly freaked out each time, and while your presence settles him a bit, the fact that he’s now in a human body, experiencing the world as a human does, is way more than you can calm him down from. Luckily for you and Tomura, the embodied ghosts stepped in to help. Since last night, there’s been one of them stationed in his room at all times, ready to corral him, ready to explain, so nothing else in his hospital room goes up in dust. Tomura lost a lot of his ghostly powers, but he’s still got more than enough left to raise hell.
You don’t want to leave him there. You want to stay there until he wakes up for good, and not leave until you can bring him home. But your health insurance won’t pay for more than the two nights you already spent in the hospital, and you have a bad feeling about who’s going to be on the hook for Tomura’s hospital bill. You have to go home. You’ll be back to visit tomorrow after work, but tonight you have to go home.
“How did he look?” Spinner asks Jin. Spinner came to get you, while Jin brought Magne for her shift in Tomura’s room. “You saw him, right?”
“He looks like hell.”
“He looks like he’s looked the entire time,” Atsuhiro says sleepily from the back row. Then, to you: “They mentioned removing the feeding tube in two days. His body is burning calories rapidly, and if he doesn’t have enough in reserve, he’ll have a heart attack when he starts moving around.”
“Great,” you mumble. “Did he wake up at all?”
“Not perceptibly to the staff,” Atsuhiro says. Ghost stuff. Again. “I was able to tell him that you were being released today.”
You sort of wish Atsuhiro hadn’t done that. Tomura’s going to think you’re leaving him, and based on the conversation you had the day before things went to hell, he didn’t want to embody himself for anything less than a sure thing. You’re a sure thing. About as sure as it gets, given that you were ready to get sucked into the world between along with him rather than let him go. But he’s not going to know that until the two of you talk. And you can’t talk to him while he’s got a feeding tube down his throat.
When you left the neighborhood three nights ago, you left it in the back of an ambulance, so you didn’t get a good look at everything that happened. Now it’s daylight, and what you see isn’t pretty. A weird fog still hovers over everything. Almost every plant on the block is dead, courtesy of being flash-frozen a dozen times over, and the pavement and asphalt on your end of the street is pitted and ruptured and cracked, courtesy of the giant. Nobody’s house escaped getting knocked around a bit, but you know yours took the largest amount of damage – window smashed, porch roof caved in, fence down, yard chewed to bits – so when you get out of the car and make your way closer for a look, you’re expecting the worst.
What you’re not expecting to see is a new fence, in the process of being painted greyish blue. You’re not expecting to see Himiko and a girl you vaguely remember meeting at her birthday party painting it. And you’re definitely not expecting Izuku to pop out of absolutely nowhere, hands smeared with dirt. “Hey, you’re back! Are you okay?”
He waits long enough for you to confirm you’re not about to keel over, then pivots. “Tell me everything that happened.”
“We already told you what happened,” Spinner says. “Don’t bug her.”
“You did tell me! It was great,” Izuku says. He refocuses on you. “But you spent the most time with the conjurer, didn’t you? And you got away from him! How did you do it?”
It occurs to you, sort of suddenly, that you haven’t told anybody exactly what happened. Everybody’s clear on the important details – kidnapped by conjurer, tortured by conjurer with the intent of Nomufication, escaped, rescued by what Jin inexplicably decided to call the Vanguard Action Squad. Nobody’s asked you more until you right now. And you should probably tell somebody, just to get it on the record. “Um, it was –”
“Izuku! Leave her be,” Inko scolds, stepping out onto your front porch. You should have guessed that at least one of Izuku’s parents would be present, but you’re still surprised to see her. “I’m sorry to startle you. We were hoping to be gone by the time you got back so you’d have a quiet house.”
A quiet house. A house without Tomura in it. “It’s okay. Um – why are you here?”
“We’re helping patch things up,” Izuku says. “I’m filling in the footprints in the yard – Toga says there was a huge Nomu here – like, building-sized –”
“Bigger,” Himiko says. She looks over at the other girl, who looks worried. “I didn’t fight that one. I did lots of other fighting.”
“And Toga and Uraraka are fixing the fence,” Izuku continues. You forgot that Himiko picked out a different last name than Jin’s when she embodied herself. You’re not sure why. “Mom was keeping an eye on the guys who came to fix the window and the roof and Dad and Kacchan are in the backyard clearing out your dead plants! There are a lot of them. Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do it.” You step through the gate, barely avoiding putting your hand in wet paint. “The fence looks really nice, Himiko. You guys didn’t have to do this.”
“The old fence matched Tomura’s new hair. We had to fix it,” Himiko explains. “Now it matches his old hair.”
“He has new hair?” Uraraka asks.
“Yeah, it’s white now. He looks like an anime villain,” Spinner says, and Himiko giggles. “I didn’t know your fence was supposed to match your hair.”
“It’s not. That’s why we’re fixing it.”
“Thank you,” you say to Himiko and her friend. “And – thanks, Izuku. I’ll tell you about all the stuff later.”
He beams at you, then goes back to filling in a massive hole in your yard. You thank Spinner and Jin for the ride home, and Atsuhiro for sitting with Tomura, then make your way into your house. The last time you were here, you could barely walk. You were oozing blood everywhere and you were in agony, but you remember seeing Tomura on the porch and stumbling into his arms and feeling for just a moment like everything would be okay. Everything is okay. But just like Aizawa said of you being turned into a Nomu, this came at a cost – and you weren’t the one to pay.
There are a few bloodstains on the front porch steps. You collect some varnish from your hall closet and come back out to paint them over.
“My dear.” Mr. Yagi’s feet appear in your field of vision and you look up at him. He looks miserable, his mouth trembling. “I’m so sorry.”
You shake your head. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“You were taken from the parking lot. I knew the conjurer could be near. I knew you were in danger. And instead of ensuring your safety I allowed you to –”
“You weren’t responsible for my safety. I was,” you say. You’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped the conjurer. If he hadn’t grabbed you from the parking lot before work, he would have grabbed you when you went outside on your lunch break or when you headed home. “The bracelets you gave me helped me get away from him. I wouldn’t have escaped without them.”
Mr. Yagi looks surprised. “Is that so?”
“When he noticed them, he broke one. It released all this energy and threw him across the room. That’s how I got out. And me and the ghost who helped me escape used the other one to blow up the building we were in.”
“My master must have known he would break them,” Mr. Yagi says. He smiles slightly, sadly. “She was a master tactician. And speaking of her – I suppose it’s no longer relevant, but I brought over the notes Izuku and I took from her journals, if you’d still like to read them.”
“I’d like to.” You’ll need something to do tonight, when you’re here all alone for the first time. “Thank you.”
The two of you sit together on the steps until the varnish dries and the smell of food begins to drift out of the kitchen. You go to investigate and find that Inko’s turned your kitchen into some kind of industrial cooking facility. “This is for tonight,” she says, gesturing to a pot simmering on your stove. “I’ve made things for the next four days also. The list on the counter is a list of common food sensitivities, in case Tomura picked up anything during his embodiment. And if you have any questions about anything, please call me.”
You feel a lump growing in your throat, making it hard to swallow. “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
“You wouldn’t,” Inko says. She smiles at you. “I would have liked someone to talk to, when it was me.”
You nod a few times, manage to thank her. Then you excuse yourself to the bathroom, so she won’t see you struggling not to cry.
You’re not sure why you’re so miserable, why it’s so hard for you to hold it together as everyone heads home for the evening. The only thing that helps even slightly is when Phantom comes home, brought over by Shinsou and Hizashi, who’ve been keeping an eye on her for you. She’s so happy to see you that she leaps a full three feet off the ground and knocks you over, which hurts. You hug her close even though you can tell she’s dying to zoom ecstatically around the house and look up at Shinsou and Hizashi from the floor. “Thanks for looking out for her. I owe you.”
“That’s the closest I’m gonna get to getting a dog until I move out. It’s great,” Shinsou says. Aizawa and Eri are committed cat people, but Shinsou’s said multiple times that he likes both. “So you got out of the hospital. Are you, like – good?”
“Great,” you say. It’s a good thing you and Shinsou aren’t ghosts, because if you were, you wouldn’t have a prayer of getting away with the lie. “It’s nice to be home.”
Hizashi nods impatiently as you pick yourself up off the ground and Phantom goes tearing off to inspect the house, Shinsou in hot pursuit. He has a folder tucked under one arm, and he holds it out to you. “Here. ID and birth certificate for him. I’m working on the rest.”
The ID is right on top, complete with a photo. “How’d you get a photo of him?”
“Took it in the hospital. Fixing the background and photoshopping his eyes open was a bitch.” Hizashi looks pretty proud of himself anyway. “I made him the same age as you. He looks it at least. The birthday is an approximation of his summoning date. I couldn’t use his embodiment date. I didn’t want the doctors asking too many questions about how he had the worst birthday ever.”
“Thanks.” You inspect everything a little closer, then nearly drop the folder in shock. “Shigaraki Tomura? You gave him his conjurer’s last name?”
“I couldn’t think of anything else,” Hizashi says. “It flows pretty nicely, right?”
You guess it does, except for the part where you’re going to think of the conjurer every time you use Tomura’s new full name. “Thank you,” you say again, uselessly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t helped.”
Hizashi looks as uncomfortable being thanked by you as you are doing the thanking. “Don’t worry about it. His shit’s a lot easier to forge than the Nomus’.”
Shinsou and Hizashi stick around for a little longer, checking out the repairs and marveling at all the food Inko cooked, then head home. You shut and lock the door behind them, and all at once you’re home alone. Just you and Phantom, like you thought it would be when you bought this place. Phantom is wandering from room to room, greeting you when she passes by but very much looking for something. Looking for Tomura.
“He’ll be home soon,” you promise her. She knows who you’re talking about. She whines. “I miss him, too.”
You feel aimless, and you feel sick. You should probably eat something. You fill a bowl from the pot Inko left on the stove and settle in on the couch to pick at it, staring at nothing if you’re not looking into the bowl itself. It tastes good, but you’ve got no desire to eat it. You eat it anyway. If you’re going to be miserable no matter what, you might as well do it on a full stomach.
Part of you thinks it’s normal to feel wrecked after everything that’s happened. You were kidnapped and tortured. You watched your ghost die in front of you nineteen times. You almost got force-fed a ghost and almost turned into a Nomu and almost watched your house be destroyed and almost killed somebody and almost lost your ghost to the world between. Only a crazy person wouldn’t be upset. But at the same time, it’s a whole lot of almost. It could have been so much worse. It almost was. What is there for you to be upset about?
Your phone rings and you pick it up just for somebody to talk to. It’s your mom. “When I called the hospital they said you’d been discharged today. Why didn’t you call?”
“It’s been a lot. I just got home.” It’s probably not good that your default is to lie to her. “Everything’s fine.”
“Everything isn’t,” your mom says severely. “I raised you. I know you. Even over the phone, I know that tone in your voice.”
“How do you know me, Mom? We barely talk. We barely talked even when I was a kid.” You shouldn’t say this. Now’s not the right time to say this, but you’ve started, and you can’t stop yourself. “Everything’s not fine, and I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you. Not with anybody! The only person I want to talk to about it is Tomura, and he’s –”
In the hospital, in an induced coma, with a feeding tube down his throat that they won’t remove for two more days. Your own throat closes up, and your mom is silent on her end of the line. You brace yourself for her to blow up at you, to talk about how you never let her in, how the distance between the two of you is your fault. Instead: “You must be really worried about Tomura,” she says. “How is he doing?”
“He’s – they think he’ll be out in three days,” you say haltingly. “It’s – it’s worse for him than it was for me. I was healthier to start with. But they said he’ll be home in three days.”
“Are you going to visit him tomorrow?”
“I want to,” you say. “I have to go back to work, too. My boss said he’d give me as much time as I need, but I need to save it for when Tomura’s home.”
“When he’s home,” your mother repeats. “You live together?”
Oops. “Yeah. For a while now.”
“So it’s serious.”
“As serious as it gets,” you say. For a moment you’re overwhelmed by the memory of clinging to his hand as the world between dragged him in, refusing to let go even if it meant you’d be pulled in, too. “I’m – this is it for me, Mom. He’s it. I’m not leaving him.”
“I would never ask you to leave him,” your mom says, surprised. You shouldn’t have said that, should have known that the weight behind it wouldn’t make sense to her. “I’m looking forward to meeting him, once the two of you have recovered from all of this. You still haven’t told me what happened.”
You haven’t told anyone. “It’s hard to explain,” you say. Your phone begins to beep again, signaling an incoming call, and your stomach lurches when you see Magne’s caller ID. “I’m getting a call from the hospital. I have to go. Sorry –”
“Go,” your mom says immediately. “I’ll call back later. I love you.”
You manage to mumble that you love her too, then end the call and accept Magne’s. “What’s happening? Is he okay?”
You hear Magne speaking to someone else, but you can’t hear what she’s saying, and then her voice is there again, right in your ear. “Tomura’s awake,” she says. “They’re trying to sedate him again, but he’s a little upset. You can imagine.”
You can imagine. “Can I talk to him?”
“That’s why I called you, honey.” Magne puts you on speaker, and you hear her voice from a distance. “You’re right by his ear. Go ahead.”
“Tomura,” you say, and you hear a strangled sound. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. Nobody there wants to hurt you. They’re just trying to help.”
You imagine him arguing that it hurts anyway. Probably also that it’s not helping, and he still feels like hell. “The sooner you get through this, the sooner you can come home,” you tell him. “That’s where I am right now. Me and Phantom are waiting for you. We’ll be here when you get back. Three days, right?”
“Right,” a doctor confirms from somewhere in the offing. “The wounds are healing well. The nutritional deficiencies are the main concern now.”
“You’ll be home soon,” you promise. “I’ll come visit you tomorrow.”
He’d be protesting if he could talk. Probably saying that he’ll be asleep tomorrow if he lets them sedate him again. “I’ll be there,” you say. “You’re fun to hang out with even when you’re asleep.”
You wonder if he’ll hear what you’re calling back to – all those months ago, when you were trying to keep him out of your bedroom at night. “I love you. I’ll be there tomorrow. Tomura –”
“He’s out,” Magne tells you. She laughs quietly. “We all knew you had him wrapped around your finger, but it’s really something to see in action.”
You close your eyes. “Thanks for sitting with him. It would be harder if you weren’t.”
Magne says something about how it’s not a problem, even though it is, and you thank her again and hang up the phone. You wish you were there with Tomura in the hospital. Even if you can’t talk to him, you can hold his hand. You could get used to the warmth of his skin and the new rhythm of his pulse and the sight of his white hair, before he comes home to you for good. You finish your soup and lift Phantom into your lap. She was with you at the start of all this, before all of this. She’s the only thing right now that feels like home. She lets you hug her and licks your face a few times, and for some stupid reason, that’s when you start to cry.
➳ tomura shigaraki x female! reader
╰┈➤ word count; 1423
╰┈➤ drabble; dubious consent, season one shigaraki (not buff lol), cervix fucking, rough sex, dacryphilia kink, creampie, unprotected sex, manhandling, yn has an immune quirk.
shigaraki has your hands pressed to the small of your back.
where your skin is warm, his is so cold.
his quirk does not turn you to dust. no! you are different from all the others. you are special.
maybe too special for your own good because that is the reason you wound up here.
he is panting, sweat lined along his hairline. you are crying so much but he cannot help that it only makes him fuck you harder.
he does not have one bit of restraint.
he does not like that you seem so miserable, he swears he is doing this out of love. he wants to make you feel good. really! he just gets a little rough.
he just gets so caught up in how tight your cunt is, how wet you are, how your gooey walls clamp down on him.
he pounds into your leaking slit until he is bruising you. he does not prep you despite the agonising stretch he subjects your pussy to.
shigaraki is sorry, truly he is!
he hunches over you, his bony chest meeting your back. his balls are squished between your bodies as he presses on the small of your back and ruts into you. it is borderline painful.
he puffs heated breaths, "don't cry s'much." he slurs. he leans down to cover your swollen lips in a messy kiss. he licks into your drool filled mouth, silencing your sobs and a few kisses are all it takes to have you fawning for him again.
you take any and every thing that he is willing to give you.
"don't like it like this." you whine when he pulls away, the strand of saliva sticking to your chin as you mush your face to the sheets.
you say that yet you are pushing your ass back on him. you say that but your cunt is tightly gripping his cock like you need it to survive.
he sneers, nails digging into your flesh, the jagged edges nicking the skin. his cock slips out halfway, covered in slick, so much that it drips between your thighs.
everything is sticky and your eyes squeeze at the feeling. he shoves back in roughly making you jolt.
"but your pussy likes it. your little cunt likes being filled with cock, she's soaking for it." your fingers flex under his hold, you can feel his eyes burning into you, can feel his body against your skin, you wish you could hide.
you cannot at all, not when he is pressing down on your back and has you at his whim. has you in a position where he can fuck you as hard and fast as he wants.
"i want to see your face." you brokenly speak, his spit slick tongue comes out to lave over your cheek, licking up your tears as he pounds his cock into you.
"you are so fucking spoilt." shigaraki's gravelly voice fills you ear, his free hand slips under you, rolling your stilted bundle of nerves.
the pert of his nipples grazes on your back with every sharp movement that has his cock prodding at your cervix. has it dipping deep in your slurping cunt and stretching your hole until it fits perfectly around him.
"fuckkk." he drawls, your body is so soft, so comfortable. you whine, your ass pushing more into him, your body moving with his thrusts. he is putting all his weight onto you, forcing you into the bed completely.
his hand squeezing your neck so tightly you gasp. his jaw hangs, spit trailing down the side of his mouth as his eyes roll back. he is not focused on you, he is focused on how good your slick cunt feels.
how your insides seem to suck him in and grip his cock. it feels like you are milking him dry, like you are squeezing his release out of him and into your pussy.
shigaraki's movements grow sloppy, his strokes are no longer full. his body shakes, humping you shallowly but somehow it hits every spot inside of you.
he is fucking into you with desperation, loud paps and squelches fill the room as your cunt tugs him in.
the swollen walls of your warm insides make it difficult for him to function. he feels like he is short circuiting.
"shouldn't feel this good!" he whimpers. you turn him into a mindless freak who only cares about sticking his cock in your warm, soaking hole.
he hates that you have that power over him.
your ass feels bruised at this point, his pelvic bones colliding with your skin so often you wince.
he is forceful and uncaring, vigorously fucking you with everything in him and his hips stutter before he is releasing heavy drops of his load into you.
you grit your teeth, not able to move with how he forces you down onto the sheets. his hips rock, head leaning back and his lips parted.
it is so hot and thick, it feels like your stomach is bulging from the amount. he is still humping you whilst his cock spurts streams of his load along your walls.
the milky cream coating your cunt and leaking its way into your puckered cervix. he collapses onto your back, your clit rubbed raw although you have not came once.
shigaraki pants, still grinding into the swell of your ass to fuck his seed back into you. the excess spews past the perimeter of his length, making your cunt messier.
he covers you, using all of his weight to keep you pinned to the mattress and only focused on him.
despite your squirming, he is unmoved.
"stop your fucking whining." he pinches your nipple. "your pussy feels good." he says it like it is the most renowned compliment in the world. like it does not reduce you to one thing alone. he nuzzles your cheek like he was not awful just a moment before.
you eyes are still teary, "nothing else?" you mumble. he shakes his head but it is only to get you angry. to see your lips tremble and tears fill your eyes. to see how hard you try not to cry but fail.
he knows you want to move but you cannot in this position.
not when he has you trapped beneath him, your cunt filled to the brim with his cock and his cum.
"get off!" shigaraki does not like when you talk to him like that. his teeth nip at your throat.
"be nice to me." he rasps. you want to but when has he ever been nice to you?
you can still feel his cum dripping inside you while his heavy body is flushed to you. you can barely breathe when he has you secured under him by lean muscle.
you are not sure how long he keeps you in the puddle of his semen before he pulls out.
his cock bobs between your legs as he sits up, you are wincing at the feeling. the slick mess of his cum leaks out of you.
you feel dirty.
he does not bother asking, his rough fingers tug you to face him but you slump further into the sheets.
you hear him huff at your resistance and then he is forcing you unto your back.
he hovers over you, thick strands of hair hanging down and framing his features.
"i thought you wanted to see my face." you did. you wanted to more than anything else. in a way you like to pretend that he is yours as much as he says you are his.
your eyes trail over his pretty red eyes and his blushed skin. his swollen lips and his sunken cheeks. you want him closer.
he should be the last person you find comforting but you cannot help that you do.
your hand strokes his aching cock, thumb massaging the prominent vein on the underside.
he lurches forward his stiffening erection meeting your slit. you mutely cry as he shoves it inside all at once.
he groans lowly, rocking his hips before his lips meet yours. he sloppily kisses you as he fucks his cum back inside of your cunt.
your hands greedily find purchase in his skin, trying to convince yourself that you mean something to him.
he takes and takes with no consideration. perhaps this is your purpose. to give without a care.
to give shigaraki every bit of you.
it only made sense for someone with a quirk like yours.
i rly rly want to write a daddy kink drabble/fic 😣
Camboy! Shigaraki
Shigaraki Tomura x Reader
CW: Smut, Minors DNI, I will block your ass. Exhibitionism, being filmed, spanking with a toy, nipple play, degradation.
AN: I tried to keep it pretty GN, if I missed something let me know. Because of this, I don't mention a hole specifically, so use your imaginations <3
~Darling XOXO
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who remains faceless the entire time he's on camera. He's the leader of an entire army, he can't have his entire being called into question because he likes the attention.
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who started this whole thing because he saw far uglier men on porn sites raking in hundreds of thousands of yen and for what? He knows he's better looking than at least half of them, and who ever complains about extra money?
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who holds that ideology but really, he loves the attention. He's such an attention slut that you throw enough money at him on stream and he'll do anything.
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who loves edging himself on stream because it's just a special kind of torture. Stroking up and down the shaft of his cock and watching it twitch with ever drag of his hand. Thumbing over the head just to collect the bulb of pre-cum already dripping out only to slather it in a slow circle and watch as the light sheens off of it. Reaching his other hand to squeeze his own balls because it feels so good and this is for him and him alone. Everyone watching is lucky that they get to experience such a thing.
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who is originally adamant on not bringing you on until Dabi makes a comment about how much more viewers money two person streams bring in. While Dabi was talking about two women streams, Shigaraki is already taking this idea and running with it.
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who teases the idea on stream for weeks just to garner his audience's opinions. He watches as the numbers start rolling in when he starts moaning about fucking you're tight little hole and leaving you a dripping mess for their pleasure.
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who reads every single comment he gets, about how people are blowing their loads to just the thought of watching anyone get fucked by his cock, whether it's them or not. People volunteering themselves, even if he knows nobody will ever reach your level.
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who's disgusted by the idea at first, but soon realizes what this mean. This isn't just a way to make money, or get all the attention he was deprived of as a child, no.
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who realizes this is a way to stake a claim. This is a way to absolute ruin his little whore in all the ways he's ever dreamed of and to send a message to everyone who's debauched enough to lose their shit over him of all people.
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who knows this will be a message that he's better than them in every single way. He has an army, he's the most wanted villain in Japan, he's dangerous and lethal, and yet he's still getting laid more than they are. That he has this perfect little cum sleeve waiting for him at the drop of a dime.
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who grows so hard at the thought on stream he's nearly breaking his thirty minute edging streak at the thought of absolutely wrecking you on camera and leaving you to moan his name for everyone to hear. Because he's the only one who gets to talk to you like this. He's the only one who gets to touch you like that. He's the only one who gets to fuck you and leave your whole gaping for his cock and his cock alone, after all, he's worked so hard to carve out a spot in you for his dick alone. For him to fuck and sully and leave flooded with his cum.
☾ Camboy! Shigaraki who doesn't need much more convincing after that.
Your head hurts.
His fingers are threading so close to the roots of your hair that a small part of your brain is firing off a number of warning signs that he could kill you then and there. The red flags are numbed and buzzed out by the euphoria of simply having him there. You can barely find yourself caring about his hands when the delicious stretch of his cock is filling you all over again. When the sound of his balls clapping against your ass cheeks is ringing in your ears over and over again.
When your eyes are focused on the lens of the camera in front of you. The red light is haunting in the sense that you know exactly what's being broadcasting. An audience of thousands, maybe more, is watching you get your back blown out with heavy drops of cum already dripping down your thighs.
Your back is arched nice and pretty for Tomura, with his one hand pinning you by your head and the other is too busy holding your hips, the only thing saving your life being the arch of his own pinkies to keep them from touching your delicate flesh. Sweat is coating your skin in an uncomfortable layer, but you can't even find it in yourself to care.
There's a chime and the sound effect of coins falling, and you whine out as the vibrators taped to your nipples light up once again. They buzz happily against your sensitive nubs and your entire body scrunches as you keen and shudder. The hand in your hair pulls slightly in a warning.
"Naughty slut." He hisses, low and deep and it sends your entire nervous system into a tizzy. "Gonna cum? I didn't say you could do that."
"'m sorry-" You gasp out, fingers tightening their gasp on the sheets beneath you. "Not gonna cum." You swear thought you can feel that neither of you truly believe that.
Tomura grants you a sliver of relief and stops moving.
The hand on your hip leaves and you're almost tempted to look back, but that's against the rules. So you don't.
You do let out a yelp of shock, or maybe pain, as the stiff surface of his paddle rockets against your awaiting ass cheek. You groan and clench and you can hear Tomura let out his own noise as the paddle lowers to rest it's cool face on the burning flesh of your ass.
"That's my good cum sleeve."
There's another chime and the returning noise of coins falling. The vibrators you hadn't even noticed had turned off come to life again. The paddle swings and your entire body clenches as euphoria runs through your veins, quickly followed by the shame of disobedience which ruins your orgasm before it can even finish.
Right after you feel the rush of warmth as another load of cum fills you more than you thought possible.
Another chime has you crying out in agonized glee.
Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 13) - 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 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
There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it, and you’ve never felt the oppressiveness and terror that everyone else seems to experience when they come near it. Not until the first streetlight goes out at the top of the street, a split second too late to conceal the shadow that slinks past beneath it.
“Shit,” Spinner hisses over the comms network. Atsuhiro stole the pieces of it, enough for every adult human in the neighborhood, on the search team’s way back. “What was that?”
“Get back from the window,” Magne hisses. They’re inside their house. All according to plan. “Stay down. This isn’t about us.”
“It’s about all of us,” Shinsou argues. He’s got a headset. Hizashi lost headset privileges on the grounds that he’s a ghost, and he’s in the house anyway. “If we just – there’s another one!”
Another streetlight goes out, on the other side of the street, just a second too slow behind the shadow that passes under it. You get a look at the shadow’s face, or where it’s face should be, before the darkness cloaks it. “That’s not Garaki.”
“No,” Aizawa agrees. “He brought reinforcements.”
“What are those things?” Jin’s mother asks, just as the light in front of Atsuhiro’s house goes out. “Tomura, do you know?”
Tomura doesn’t have a headset. Tomura’s dematerialized, and keeping his head down as part of the strategy. But your house has two former ghosts in it, and since Hizashi’s getting the most malevolent silent treatment ever, Eri speaks up, and Aizawa repeats what she whispers in his ear. “They’re like Shirakumo. But they like it.”
Keigo’s voice crackles over the headsets. “What does that mean?”
“The ghosts signed up for it.” Tomura’s voice is barely a whisper in your ear. “They let a conjurer make them his puppets. They’re too weak to do what they want otherwise.”
You convey Tomura’s message to the others, then ask a question of your own. “What do they want?”
“Guys, there’s another one. We’re up to six.” Spinner says what you’re thinking a moment later. “That’s one for every house in the neighborhood.”
Mr. Yagi was right – if one former ghost in the neighborhood is discovered, you’re all compromised, and you’re all fucked. A moment later, a voice rings out down the street. It’s not a voice you recognize. “Hizashi,” it calls out, and Hizashi freezes in place. “Touya. I know you’re here. Come out, and we can avoid any – unpleasantness.”
Everyone in your house glares at Hizashi, ordering him to keep quiet, but Keigo doesn’t have anywhere near that kind of backup. “My name’s not fucking Touya,” Dabi says. “Get out of my neighborhood.”
Hizashi opens his mouth to chime in and Aizawa slaps his hand down over it. “Suit yourself,” Garaki says. “Nomu –”
There’s a sudden crash, and you hear Jin’s mom scream into the headset – the thing in front of her house just took down her fence. But it’s only a warning shot. A second later there’s another, louder crash. “They’re going after your house, Aizawa,” Atsuhiro reports. “When they find out you aren’t there –”
They’ll come here, to your house and Keigo’s. “It’s time,” Aizawa says. “Nemuri, go.”
You’ve never see an unbound ghost flex its powers in public before, and now you know why – powered up with dozens of plants’ worth of life-force, Nemuri is blindingly fast. She knocks the ghost-thing away from Aizawa’s house so hard that it dents one of the doused streetlights, then bolts towards Garaki. Garaki’s ready for her. You don’t know how you know that, but he must be, or he wouldn’t be standing still.
“Wait for it,” Hizashi hisses. “Tomura, now.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Tomura snaps, and his influence crashes back down over the neighborhood with the force of a breaking tsunami.
Garaki staggers, gasping for air, but the effect on the monsters he brought with him is even stronger. The one attacking Jin and Himiko’s house stops immediately and lunges at the one Nemuri just knocked away from Aizawa’s front steps. You hear a harsh, heavy whoosh, followed by a shriek like metal on metal. A rush of wind blasts up the street, visible even in the dark, and you can see something flickering within it, fighting to get back where it came from. “That’s essence,” Hizashi mumbles. “Nice work.”
Tomura doesn’t answer. If you had to guess, you’d say he’s focused on keeping the pressure on the street. The two monsters are tearing each other to shreds, which means that Nemuri’s less outnumbered than she was before, and you’re pretty sure that the monsters parked in front of your house and Keigo’s are there to keep you from leaving. That still leaves two loose monsters, though. Both of them turn and run towards whatever’s happening between Garaki and Nemuri. You can barely see it. There’s no light on the street, anywhere, but there’s one place where the darkness is completely opaque. You don’t know what’s happening in there. You don’t think you want to.
The first sign that something’s going wrong is the cold that begins to spread, worse than anything Tomura’s ever generated, radiating out from the opaque patch of darkness and creeping steadily up the street. Your house and Keigo’s are farthest from the trouble, but ice begins to spiral over your windows, and when Spinner speaks up over the comms, his teeth are chattering. “What’s happening? Magne won’t say –”
You’re pretty sure Magne can’t say. Jin breaks into the comms, reporting that Himiko’s down for the count, and in your own house, Aizawa’s trying with increasing desperation to rouse Eri. Hizashi’s on his feet, still. He speaks through gritted teeth. “Nem’s in trouble,” he says. “I’m going out there.”
“Dad, no!” Shinsou grabs for him, but Hizashi moves fast. “Dad –”
Aizawa’s too focused on Eri to notice before it’s too late. He reaches out futilely to Hizashi. “Zashi, don’t –”
Your front door slams shut behind him. “You’re in the way,” Hizashi says to the thing in front of your house. “Move.”
“Idiot,” Tomura snarls, from everywhere and nowhere. A moment later, Hizashi seizes the monster and drags it into your yard.
Having passed the responsibility for the situation over to Tomura, Hizashi bolts into the street, and Tomura materializes in the front yard just as the monster starts to pick itself up off the ground. Tomura knocks it down again, then straddles it, pinning it in place. “What are you?” he demands. The creature snarls. “You can still feel pain. I’ll hurt you. What are you?”
The monster snarls again. You don’t see what Tomura does, but you hear it let out an agonized howl in response. “Nomu. We are – Nomu.”
It tries to fight free of Tomura’s grip. Tomura slams it against the ground. He looks tiny compared to the monster – the Nomu? – but it’s clear that he’s got the upper hand. “Tell me. How many does he have?” You still can’t see what Tomura’s doing to the Nomu, but it lets out an earsplitting screech. “Now!”
Whatever answer the Nomu gives, it’s not what Tomura wants to hear. He blasts the Nomu apart, then dematerializes, reappearing again inside the house. He’s barley breathing hard. “He’s got too many ghosts. They can’t win.”
“Then do something,” Shinsou demands of Tomura. “My dad –”
Tomura can’t do anything more than he’s already doing, and Shinsou knows it. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to find Aizawa heading for the door. You couldn’t stop Hizashi, but you can sure as hell stop him. You block his way. “Where are you going?”
“This is a fight between ghosts. I’ll be beneath their notice.” Aizawa puts his hand on your shoulder and shifts you firmly aside. “If they lose, we all do.”
He’s out the door before you can stop him, and across the street, you see Keigo sneaking out as well. If you had to guess, you’d say Spinner and Jin are heading out, too. Now it’s only you, Shinsou, Eri, and Tomura inside your house, and you can feel Tomura seething, the air crackling with his power. He wants to fight. You can tell he does. You just don’t understand why. He doesn’t care about the neighborhood or the people in it. Is he really that bloodthirsty? Or maybe it’s not that he’s bloodthirsty. Maybe he just cares more about this, about everything, than you’ve let yourself realize.
“You idiot,” he snaps suddenly, and you and Shinsou both jump. “Stay inside!”
He’s not talking to you. You race to the front window just in time to see Dabi emerging from the house. He’s never looked more frightening than he does right now, half-embodied, half made up of the same darkness that’s now swallowed up half the neighborhood. He strolls up to the Nomu guarding Keigo’s house like he doesn’t have a care in the world. The Nomu doesn’t move. “Are they talking?” Shinsou asks. “What are they saying?”
Before Tomura has a chance to answer, Dabi speaks out loud, his voice bright and full of fury. “You really are stupid, conjurer. Of all the ghosts you could have brought to kill me, you picked my brother.”
You didn’t realize ghosts could have brothers. Then you remember what Keigo said about his old house having multiple ghosts in it. “Nice to see you, Natsu,” Dabi says to the Nomu. “Go get my human.”
The Nomu – Natsu – turns and dives into the darkness, followed by Dabi at a more leisurely pace. You think through the battlefield as it stands now. Garaki is down to two Nomus on his side, and Nemuri’s getting a helping hand from Hizashi, Spinner, Jin, Aizawa, Dabi, Natsu, and Keigo. The fight has to be in the neighborhood’s favor now, doesn’t it? Garaki’s outnumbered, and no matter how much ghostly power he has, he’s still human. He can be killed like any human. It’s going to be –
Eri lurches upright, her red eyes wide and terrified. “Papa!” she screams. “No –”
Everything outside the windows goes completely black. If you couldn’t see into it before, you definitely can’t see out of it now. But you can see what’s inside of it, at least until the frost starts to spiral across the glass – Garaki advancing down the street, flanked by two Nomus. Nemuri’s nowhere to be found. Spinner’s injured, somehow. Jin is dragging him backwards, away from the fight. Aizawa is carrying Hizashi, who’s fully unconscious. The only people in any shape to do anything are Keigo, Dabi, and the Nomu. The fight’s narrowed down to three on three – a conjurer and two monsters versus one monster, one scar wraith, and one human. Suddenly you understand why Eri’s in tears, why Tomura’s materialized next to you with that look on his face. So much for the fight being even. It’s not anywhere close to even. They’re going to lose.
Garaki clucks his tongue, shakes his head. “Touya, you disappoint me.”
“It’s too bad. I was just living for your approval.” Dabi pushes Keigo casually behind him. “I’d highly recommend pissing off. Stick around and I might get angry. You’re not going to like it when I’m angry.”
“In your position, I’d be angry, too,” Garaki responds. “You’ve been a scar wraith for four years. Don’t you want your powers back? Isn’t this mortal form exhausting to inhabit? Wouldn’t you rather be free?”
You thought Dabi was trying to stall. Now you’re not so sure. “You could do that?” Dabi asks.
“Of course! If you doubt my abilities, just look at my Nomus.” Garaki gestures proudly. He tortured six people to create them, and he’s proud of them. “There’s no reason why the same process can’t run in reverse. I would have offered it to Hizashi, too – but it appears he’s a lost cause.”
“What did he do to him?” Shinsou asks in a cracked whisper. “He’s not dead. He can’t be dead.”
“The conjurer went after Aizawa and he took the hit instead. He’s coming around.” Tomura’s hands are clenched into fists at his sides, so hard his knuckles are white. “Idiot. They’re all idiots!”
Garaki is still talking. “I expected much better of Hizashi, truthfully. He was so eager to enter this world and play his part, and he threw it all away for a human. But you’re wiser, Touya. Step aside and I’ll help you reverse your mistake.”
He wouldn’t. There’s no way Dabi wants to be a ghost again that badly, is there? There’s no way he’d sacrifice Keigo. Is there? Dabi glances away from Garaki, over at Natsu. “What do you think, little brother? Should I take him up on it?”
The Nomu doesn’t answer. In Aizawa’s arms, you think you see Hizashi stir. “Nah,” Dabi says finally. “You can go to hell. Natsu, now!”
The Nomu moves at terrifying speed. It seizes Keigo and hurls him through the air, over the fence and into your front yard. Tomura swears under his breath and you watch as Keigo’s fall slows slightly, enough that he’s got time to turn and land heavily on his feet. But he’s not the only one in flight. Hizashi’s struggled to his feet, and he and Nemuri launch Aizawa together. Their throw isn’t as good. Aizawa crashes through the fence and sprawls out flat in the yard. Jin drags Spinner through the hole and both of them collapse.
They need help. You grab your first aid kit out of the hall closet and try to open your front door, only to find that it’s sealed shut. It doesn’t move even when you yank on it with your full weight. You turn to glare at Tomura, who glares back with his arms crossed. “It’s not safe.”
“I won’t leave the yard,” you say. “That’s your territory, isn’t it? Are you telling me I’m not safe there?”
Tomura’s expression darkens even further, but before he can respond, an ice-cold hand settles on your shoulder. “I’ll go with her,” Shirakumo says in that odd doubled voice. You forgot he was here. He hasn’t moved off the couch all day. “I can help.”
You don’t know how much help Shirakumo will be – the hand on your shoulder is shaking badly – but the front door unseals itself, and you leave without a backward glance. Once you’re in the yard, though, you’re temporarily paralyzed. Aizawa’s not moving, but Spinner’s the most visibly injured, and Keigo’s awake but stunned, like his landing might have been harder than you thought. You’d rather help Spinner or Keigo, but Aizawa’s the only one who’s unresponsive. He helped you when you first found out about Tomura. He’s done nothing to you other than be abrupt bordering on rude, and he’s like that with everyone except his children. Are you really going to let him lie there just because you and his husband despise each other?
Shirakumo heads for Aizawa, making the decision for you, and you hurry towards Spinner instead. Spinner’s bleeding from two stab wounds, one in his left shoulder and one in his right thigh, just above his knee. There’s a lot of blood. You pry open the first aid kit for bandages and gauze and press Jin into service bandaging Spinner’s leg, working on his shoulder yourself and doing your level best to ignore whatever’s happening outside the fence. Spinner groans in pain. “I have to get back out there,” he says. “They can’t do this.”
“We have to!” Jin agrees, determined. Then his face falls. “We can’t help. That’s why they made us leave.”
“They’re outnumbered. Nemuri burned up too much power and the cold killed a lot of the plants before she could.” Keigo waits until you’re finished bandaging Spinner’s injuries, then helps you and Jin pick him up. “Me and Aizawa were useless out there. All we did was distract them.”
He means Dabi and Hizashi, but there’s something turning over in your head. You’re not sure what it is just yet. You see Shirakumo carrying Aizawa up to the porch out of the corner of your eye. Next to you, Jin is shaking Spinner’s non-stabbed shoulder, panicked. “What about Magne and Atsuhiro? Why aren’t they out there?”
“Not their fight. I stayed in – long as possible.” Spinner’s face is beaded with sweat. “So maybe she’d come out. But –”
You don’t think the other ghosts are cowards. You know they’re tough, you know they care. But neither of them are the ones the conjurer is after, and their humans might as well be an afterthought. You don’t blame either of them for staying out of a fight they can’t win. When it comes down to it, it’s not your fight, either.
It’s not your fight. It’s also not your neighborhood, according to Hizashi – but you’re done with Hizashi’s bullshit. You’ve got your bracelets on, which means you’ll be hard to spot, and none of the ghosts still fighting in the street care enough about you to distract them from the fight. You won’t distract the neighborhood ghosts. But you can damn well distract the Nomus. Or the conjurer.
You’re alone in the yard now, except for Shirakumo. Shirakumo looks like he’s got an idea, too, and all you can do is hope that the human half of him is enough to hide his intentions from Tomura. The two of you make eye contact. Shirakumo raises one hand from his side and shows you a broken fencepost. If you bend down slowly to grab one of your own, Tomura’s going to figure it out, and he’ll stop you. You have to move fast. You crouch, seize a fencepost, and lurch across the property line.
A howl rises up from the house behind you, enough to set your teeth on edge and make every hair on your arms stand on end. Tomura’s furious, but he’s going to be even madder if you get hurt because you were standing there, doing nothing, instead of doing what you came here to do. You glance to your left and realize that Shirakumo’s already run off to help Hizashi and Nemuri deal with one of the two remaining Nomus. That leaves you and your fencepost to join the remaining fight. You’re the only help Dabi and Natsu are going to get.
Your fencepost has a broken end, jagged and dangerous, but you’ve got no faith in your ability to stab someone with it. You’ll be better off using it as a club. The question is who to hit. You creep along the sidewalk towards where Dabi and Natsu are facing Garaki and the remaining Nomu. While the fight between Natsu and the last Nomu looks pretty even, it’s clear to you that Dabi’s losing his. Tomura said Garaki has too many ghosts. Dabi’s only one, and only half a ghost in the bargain. You have the thought that his human side is protecting him from being blasted apart, but it can’t last forever. You can see the ghostly sections of his body, rippling, bulging, as Garaki pours more and more energy into him. Neither of them are paying any attention to you.
Good. You work your way behind Garaki, take a firmer grip on the fencepost, and swing.
It’s not your best swing. Some part of you is still wrestling against the thought of bashing another human being over the head with a piece of wood, and it’s really dark. But even your not-the-best swing collides with the side of Garaki’s head, producing a dull thud. He lets out a grunt of pain and turns Dabi loose, wheeling around to face you.
You swing again, but it’s even harder to hit somebody when you’re looking them in the eye. Your blow strikes his arm, and he staggers but doesn’t fall. Garaki is bald, your height or maybe shorter. He has a mustache, and his green-tinted glasses are cracked and lopsided. Blood is tricking down the side of his head from your first swing. He steps forward. You step back.
“Not so brave now, are we?” Garaki laughs, but he’s grimacing. You swing at him again, but he dodges it. His hand closes on your shoulder. “Have some of this.”
You know what’s coming, courtesy of Hizashi’s lessons this afternoon, and unlike Tomura, Garaki’s got no plans to be gentle with you. You lock your jaw against the screams that are dying to get out and squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t want to see the world between. You need to see what’s in Garaki’s head. You need to know, so you can warn –
You can’t see. Maybe you can. You can’t understand it – a void full of open, howling mouths, pain worse than anything you’ve ever experienced, hatred stronger than you can even fathom. It’s nothing like what you saw in Tomura’s mind. It’s hell. You keep your jaw locked as long as possible, but eventually you can’t hold it in a second longer. You open your mouth and scream until your throat bleeds.
Or maybe you don’t. A hand closes around your wrist and jerks you away, out of Garaki’s grip. The hand is cold and warm at the same time. When you open your eyes, you find yourself looking up at Shirakumo.
He’s not the only one who’s here. Nemuri’s here, and Hizashi, Hizashi steps into the space where you were standing and promptly decks Garaki, hitting him about twice as hard as your strongest swing of the fencepost. “That’s for making my friends cry,” he hisses, and hits Garaki again. “Hit it, Toasty!”
Every plant on the far side of the street bursts into flames at once, and Dabi plants both hands on Garaki’s back and shoves him hard. With the rest of the plants’ life-force on board, Dabi’s charged up with enough power to send Garaki flying, and there’s only one possible place he could be headed. You turn slowly, your entire body numb and frozen, just in time to see Garaki land in a heap in the middle of your front yard. Tomura’s on him a split second later.
You think it’ll be over quickly. If Tomura is as powerful as everyone says he is, it should be. But you think of how many ghosts you saw in Garaki’s head, of the fact that Tomura’s never faced a conjurer before, and fear like you’ve never felt in your entire life surges through you. You can’t help him. All you can do is watch.
The sphere of darkness Garaki summoned before starts to descend, only for Tomura to blast it apart seconds later. Garaki reaches out for Tomura’s shoulder, but Tomura dematerializes just enough that Garaki’s hand sinks straight through him. He raises one hand, reaching for Garaki, and Garaki’s hand rises to block him. There’s a clear six inches of space between their palms, but it’s clear that they’re both pushing as hard as they can.
Cold wind whips out from the space where the two of them stand, rattling your windows loudly enough that you can hear it from the street. Your teeth are chattering almost as loudly. Garaki’s face shows intense concentration, and so does Tomura’s. His free hand is scratching frantically at his neck, and he’s bitten into his lip so hard it’s bleeding. There’s a sudden lurch, and Tomura takes a step back. Then another step back. “Fuck,” Dabi mumbles, then calls out: “Hey, asshole! Get your shit together!”
Tomura plants his feet, stopping Garaki’s advance, but you’re not stupid enough to think he’s got the upper hand. In fact, he’s got the opposite. His right hand, the one pressing back against Garaki’s, is beginning to bend backwards, past the point where a living hand would break, where living fingers would snap like twigs. His physical form, still mostly embodied, is beginning to bulge and waver, just like Dabi’s did. If Garaki’s able to do this, his power level and Tomura’s must be nearly equal. Aizawa’s words flash through your head again: Conjurers are human. Humans don’t want to die.
You want to call out to Tomura, beg him to fight harder, but your teeth are chattering too hard to speak. Someone else does it for you. Hizashi grabs your arm, pulls you away from Shirakumo, and drags you towards the fence. “Hey, guess what?” he shouts at Tomura, his voice loud enough to be heard above the wind. “I lied about what ghostly power does to humans. It does hurt them. It hurts them a lot.”
Tomura’s eyes dart sideways towards you. Then he turns his head to stare, and takes another step back, giving up ground to Garaki. “Yeah, you heard me,” Hizashi continues, even though he’s breaking Tomura’s concentration. “You hurt your human, and she let you do it. But guess what? The guy who’s beating you hurt her a whole lot worse.”
Tomura snarls. “Oh, you want to kill me over that? I’ll believe that when I see it,” Hizashi spits, and suddenly you understand what he’s trying to do. “How are you supposed to kill me when you can’t even kill him?”
Tomura looks away from Hizashi, away from you. Back to Garaki, who was just starting to look confident. “You won’t win. I have the power of a thousand ghosts behind me! There’s nothing you can do that will – what are you doing? Don’t –”
Tomura’s free hand materializes and clamps down over Garaki’s face. The hand pushing back against Garaki’s breaks through the space between them and seizes it in a crushing grip. Garaki howls, but not so loudly that you can’t hear Tomura’s voice. “A thousand ghosts?” he says, gleeful and savage. “There’s one less now.”
The wind roars up from behind you this time, still ice-cold, as Tomura draws his power inwards, forcing more and more of it into Garaki. He bends Garaki’s hand backwards until the conjurer’s wrist breaks, keeps pushing until his forearm snaps in two. “Where are your ghosts now?” he taunts. The smile on his face is terrifying to look at, but you can’t look away. “Without them, you’re just a human.”
“Wait,” Garaki chokes out. “Don’t –”
“You’re just a human,” Tomura repeats. “Humans die.”
You’ve watched Tomura turn things to dust before, but never a person. Garaki crumbles, the same as the wasps and the other insects and the plants. You hear a last gasp of air leave his lungs, choked with dust towards the end, and see his eyes go blank a second before they turn dull and dusty and pop from his skull. It’s over in less than two seconds. Garaki’s clothes crumple to the ground, empty. And after that it’s quiet.
Next to you, Hizashi breathes a sigh of relief. “That was close.”
“That wasn’t close at all,” Nemuri corrects. She’s only partially materialized. “It was over the instant he stopped messing around. What were you doing, anyway? You – watch it, Zashi –”
Hizashi leaps away from the fence with a yelp. Tomura’s right there, struggling to reach past the property line, his eyes fixed on you. “Give me my human.”
“You sure about that?” Hizashi asks. He gives you a little shake and keeps talking to Tomura. “You’re looking a little rough, my friend. Why not dematerialize and get some of that blood off your –”
“Now!”
Tomura’s voice isn’t particularly loud, but it still shakes the ground, and you feel Hizashi’s grip on your shoulder tighten with shock. He laughs it off, but you aren’t fooled. “One human, coming right up!” he announces. He picks you up and tosses you over the wreckage of the fence.
You’re not in any way prepared to catch yourself, but Tomura doesn’t let you hit the ground. Wouldn’t let you hit the ground. Maybe. He’s mad at you the instant he gets ahold of you, snapping at you even as his arms lock tightly around your waist. “You idiot! You’re just a human. That guy could have killed you! There are bugs under the house that are smarter than you are! Why would you even – what? What are you doing?”
You’re twisting in his grip, trying to get your arms free, and when you manage it, you wrap them around him, holding on as tightly as you can even though being this close to him isn’t helping your rapidly advancing case of hypothermia. “Are you okay?” you ask senselessly. “Your hand – your neck – are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. Don’t be stupid.” Tomura shakes your shoulder with the hand you were asking about, the one Garaki bent completely back at the wrist. “My neck is fine. The scratches will go away once I dematerialize. Why are you acting so weird?”
You pull your hand away from his neck with an effort. It comes back smeared with blood, and you curl it into a shaky fist. “I was worried.”
“I said not to be stupid,” Tomura says. He shakes your shoulder again. “I had it right from the beginning.”
He didn’t. You know what you saw, and he didn’t. “You had it once you flexed,” Dabi says from just outside the fence. “You dumbass. Why did you think the guy who summoned me and the megaphone with legs would be weak? Give me back my human.”
You have a rule about not laughing at Dabi’s jokes, but ‘megaphone with legs’ as a description for Hizashi is too funny to ignore. You’re giggling weakly to yourself as Keigo emerges from your house, stepping through the wreckage of your fence to join Dabi on the street. He’s got one arm in a sling and a few scratches on his face, but otherwise he looks okay. “Was it just me, or was that way too close?” he asks the ghosts and the Nomu and Shirakumo still hanging out in the street. “If we do anything like that again, we need to fix – hey, watch the arm!”
Dabi’s grabbed him, not dissimilarly to the way Tomura grabbed you, and he plants an incredibly weird-looking kiss on him. You’ve never tried making out with Tomura while he’s half-materialized, and there’s a good reason. There’s – tongues. You can see them. Keigo puts his hand against Dabi’s face and pushes him partly back, but that doesn’t dissuade Dabi at all. He picks Keigo up and marches right back across the street, up their front steps, and into the house.
“Uh, goodnight,” you say faintly. The door slams shut.
“Is there a human saying for post-victory sex?” That’s Magne’s voice. She and Atsuhiro are making their way up the street. “Humans have the silliest names for the most disgusting things they do.”
“I think post-victory sex is about as descriptive as it gets,” Shirakumo says in that strange doubled voice. The other Nomu is still standing there, hands down at its sides, and Shirakumo turns to it. “Hey. Natsu, right? I think we probably need to talk.”
“He’s doing better,” Nemuri remarks to Hizashi as the two Nomus cross the street. “Did something happen?”
“They merged. Him and the ghost,” Tomura says. He’s still holding you, and you’re starting to get really cold. “They wanted to help more than they wanted to die.”
“Good,” Hizashi says after a moment. He looks relieved. “Can I have my humans back now?”
“I don’t want your humans.” Tomura doesn’t look up, but when you peer over his shoulder, you see Shinsou carrying Eri and helping Aizawa navigate the stairs at the same time. “If you even think about setting foot in my yard again, I’ll kill you and I’ll make it hurt.”
“Deal,” Hizashi says. He glances at you, still relieved even though Tomura’s just threatened to kill him. “I misjudged your human, anyway. She’s not so bad after all.”
You didn’t trust Hizashi very much before today, and now you don’t trust him at all – but you think you’ve got a handle on what he’s like, which means his comment makes absolutely no sense. He doesn’t like you. He sees you as a threat to his family’s safety because he thinks you could compromise Tomura. Why would he say that he misjudged you in front of another ghost, knowing that Tomura can probably tell if he’s lying? If he wasn’t lying, but if he wasn’t lying, why did he change his tune about you?
The question’s a little too much for you to answer right now. Your brain is still scrambled and you’re freezing cold. Tomura refuses to put you down until Jin’s mom, who’s coming over to retrieve Jin, realizes your lips are blue and makes him do it. You stagger into the house under your own power, peel off your shoes, and head straight upstairs to your room. You get under the blankets fully clothed and curl up into a ball, trying to stay warm. There’s no way you’ll be able to sleep until the shivers die down.
You hear the front door close and lock like it’s coming from a long way away, then footsteps up the stairs. Tomura drops Phantom on the bed and she snuggles against you over the covers. It helps, sort of. You sneak one icy hand out to pet her ears, only to bump against Tomura’s hand doing the same thing. “You feel cold like me,” he says. You make some kind of awful, teeth-chattery noise of agreement. It’s quiet for a second. “I hurt you. You let me. Why?”
“You had to learn.” You don’t want to talk about this. “I was fine afterward. What the conjurer did was way worse.”
“I hurt you. Are you scared of me again?” Tomura sounds miserable. “You’re scared again. You’ll leave.”
“Not scared,” you mumble. “Not leaving. I just wanted to help. I wanted to make sure you won, and I wasn’t sure you could.”
You’re hoping that doubting his strength will set him off on bragging about how tough he is, so he’ll forget all about this. But you’re not so lucky. You spent all of tonight’s luck somewhere else. “I don’t understand,” Tomura says. “You let me hurt you for the neighborhood?”
“Don’t be stupid,” you say, just in time for it to occur to you that you’ve never really let on that you’re concerned with anything but the neighborhood as a whole. “I let you to make sure you won. I didn’t want something bad to happen to you.”
“So I could keep protecting the neighborhood.”
“No,” you say, too fast and too sure. “So I could keep hanging out with you.”
There’s probably a better way to say it. A more honest way to say it. If you were a ghost you’d be one hundred percent busted, because you’re lowballing this to a ridiculous degree. You want more stupid movie nights where he spends the entire movie asking questions and you have to rewind it and watch it again. You want more moments where you spy on him playing with Phantom, more moments where you watch him try to understand humans and succeed a little more each time. You want to teach him how to cook more things, not so he’ll cook for you but because he likes to know how things work and how to do them right. You want more makeouts and hookups and moments where he stays close to you without either of you understanding why.
You want to keep hanging out with Tomura, sure. You want that because you love him.
“That’s what I want,” Tomura says, surprised. “Wait, do you –”
“We agree. We don’t need to talk about it anymore.” You curl up into a tighter ball around Phantom and look up at Tomura. “Are you staying or what?”
Tomura looks even more surprised than before. “You said I don’t get to stay on your bed at night.”
“And you don’t listen. I know where you are even when you’re dematerialized,” you say. “You might as well do it embodied. And outside the sheets, so I don’t freeze.”
You can tell Tomura’s confused, but he hops onto the bed anyway, sprawling out on the other side. “It wasn’t hard to kill that conjurer,” he says. “I could do it again.”
For some reason, that’s when it clicks for you – the reason Hizashi doesn’t hate you anymore, the reason he was relieved. His problem with you is that you’re a reason for Tomura to give up being a ghost. The only way to give up being a ghost is to completely drain a human being and take their place, and it only happens if the ghost wants to be human more than they’ve ever wanted anything else in the whole world, in all of time. Tomura completely drained a human being tonight. If he was going to embody himself permanently, this was his chance. And he didn’t.
You knew he wouldn’t. You’ve always known that. You’ve known forever that loving Tomura would mean loving him as a ghost and nothing else. It’s best this way. The neighborhood stays protected. Hizashi stops hating you. This is how it’s supposed to be.
“Hey.” Tomura shakes your shoulder, then touches your cheek. “What are these? Are you crying?”
“Humans do that sometimes to relieve stress,” you say. You’re amazed with the steadiness in your voice. “It’s fine.”
“Mm.” Tomura sounds skeptical, but he doesn’t argue with you. He edges closer to you, drapes one arm around your waist and presses against your back. All you can feel through the blankets is the faintest chill. “You can be the spoon this time.”
“The little spoon,” you correct. “You’re the big spoon.”
“What if I don’t want to be a spoon?”
“Then find a different way to snuggle.” You don’t want him to do that. You want him to hold you like this until you fall asleep, and when a vaguely aggrieved silence falls, you know you’ll get your wish. “It’s not so bad.”
“Idiot,” Tomura mumbles. “Go to sleep.”
You close your eyes, sandwiched between your ghost and your dog, not quite cold and not quite warm. It’s almost comfortable. Maybe you should fall asleep like this every night.
If you ever sleep again. When you wake up in the middle of the night, frozen with incomprehensible terror from a dream of the world between, you’re not sure you’ll even dare to close your eyes.
A new life for Tomura part6
The fact that one of my relative was concern about my obsession for Tomura..
It's like litteraly none of your business..
Perspective, chapter 1 of 2.
tenko x cis female and poc friendly reader
safe for work // 4.8k words // AO3.
warnings: ...jealousy? some actions may be seen as creepy.
summary: tenko goes to art school and gets a crush on a musical theater major.
Horizon Line -- an actual or imaginary line in a work of art representing the point at which water or land seems to end and the sky begins.
×X×
Tenko had fallen asleep before the performance had even started.
He had long lost track of how long he'd been awake for. It was the end of his first semester in university and the prestigious art program he had gotten into busied him with project after project. He was running out of steam. Honestly, he had been running on fumes for weeks now.
He'd rather be in his dorm finishing his assignments instead of sitting in one of the theaters in the performing arts building. If it wasn't a requirement for Fine Arts majors to attend other Fine Arts events, he would have never have set foot in this place. The noise of the attendees filling the room and the orchestra tuning their instruments was grating his sleep deprived nerves.
He grumbled and crossed his arms as someone took the seat beside him. His leg bouncing as he grabbed the program the usher had handed to him when he first entered. Tenko's bloodshot eyes were barely able to process anything more than The Phantom of the Opera on the front of the flimsy pamphlet, before shutting it and glaring at the scarlet curtains on the stage.
A few minuets later, the lights began to dim and he sighed in relief as the room quieted. He could finally catch some much needed sleep.
He tried stretching his stiff legs in an attempt to loosen himself up and closed his eyes.
Only to open them at the sound of your voice singing to him on the stage.
"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while, please, promise me you'll try."
Tenko was mesmerized. Watching you on stage woke him up more than the energy drinks he'd been living off of all semester. He was absolutely immersed with your performance. He soaked in your every word and movement and before he knew it, two hours had gone by and the cast was being applauded as they bowed.
He sat in awe for a moment as the auditorium lights flicked on and he stood, shuffling through the crowd. He found a nice corner of the lobby behind a pillar as he and some other audience members waited. He skimmed through the program and found you. He whispered your name like a secret only he could ever know.
The cast slowly came out one by one and thanked the guests for coming. Tenko's eyes darted around impatiently. Finally, out came you in the white gown you wore in your final scene, looking like an angel that had come down to offer his sorry existence some respite.
You greeted and thanked the attendees as they praised you and handed you flowers. It was the final night of your musical and you were beaming. Tenko's fingers fidgeted at his sides as he yearned to get closer to you and experience your radiance himself.
A guest bowed and left, leaving an opening for him to approach. He took a step out from behind the pillar, but you turned at the sound of your voice coming from behind you. Tenko recognized the person as the man who played the Phantom and sighed when he saw you turn and leave the room.
When Tenko returned to his dorm, he searched your name online and found your social media. His night was spent watching your videos. He didn't realize how much time had passed until his alarm went off and he saw the sunlight peaking out from behind onyx curtains. It was time for him to get ready for class.
The semester had finished with him acing art and barely passing his core courses. It was winter break and with most students away, the campus was deserted. The thought of having no one to go home to didn't even cross his mind as he spent the break filling his sketchbooks with you.
His second semester started off much better than the first one. His art had rapidly improved from how much he'd been practicing recently.
He found a spot he liked. It was a small outdoor table nestled between some trees on the southern campus dormitory area. The weather on this side of the country wasn't as cold as other prefectures would be in January, but there was still the occasional breeze that made his dry skin prickle up with goosebumps. The rain was more likely to get him sick, although, since he was under the wide umbrella of the table, he found that unlikely and continued his sketch of you.
A week and a half later, he gulped down the last of his cold medication and slammed the container down in frustration. He leered at the harrowed reflection on the bathroom mirror. His eyes were heavy with deep bags, his skin a sickly colour, and his hair hadn't been brushed for 2 or 3 days. He let out a sigh.
×X×
He found another spot he liked, safe from the chilling late January rain. It was in the performing arts building, in a seating area by the entrance. The art program may have been the school's top program, but it's grand yet modern appearance showed that there was no skimping of funds. The grand architecture and romantic interior design was a contrast to the art building's modern and sleek appearance. On the outside, the building designs complimented each other, with this building being a few stories shorter than the building next door that Tenko was used to. Noisier too.
Tenko had his earbuds in as he slouched on the upholstered chair, sketching, when he noticed a familiar form in the corner of his eye.
It was someone he recognized as your frequent scene partner that you seemed to be joined at the hip with, if your social media was anything to go by. Tenko felt a spark of excitement bubbling inside of him and he looked around hoping to see you, but your face was not among the crowd of students. His hope deflated to disappointment and he scratched the side of his neck. You were likely already in class.
It was ten minutes into the hour when Tenko decided to leave. He gathered his things and carried his sketchbook in his arms as he stood and walked away from the seating area.
He tripped over his feet and bumped into someone, his sketchbook flying out of his grasp.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!!"
It was you.
Your sweet voice was full of apology as you bent down to grab his sketchbook for him. He watched in awe at how swiftly you moved. He was at a loss for words. Your fingers froze over the edge and Tenko realized what page it had landed open on.
"Is that... me?"
Your voice sounded so pretty, even when you were confused. He felt his face burning as you grabbed the sketchbook and stood. Your eyes stared down at the sketch of you he had just done while in the seating area, when he was itching to catch a glimpse of the top of your head through the crowd.
You were so close now and it was going to kill him.
"This is from my Jekyll and Hyde audition last spring, right? Back when I was trying to get the role of Lisa Carew..."
You were so close now and he knew you'd think he was a creep for watching your old videos and bumping into you. You probably thought he had it all planned out, like some sort of stalker.
"Is it okay if I flip through..?"
His brain was screaming at him to say 'no, give it back' but his head nodded, unable to deny you of anything you wanted from him. Yes, there were sketches of you without any clothes on and he was well aware of how that would look, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He would rip out his heart for you to use as a hand warmer, if you asked.
He watched with a gut wrenching mix of horror and delight as you flipped through and took your time to study every page. Drawing had always come easily for him, with hands being his favourite body part to draw. Expressions were a bit more difficult for him to feel satisfied by so he preferred to leave faces blank or smudged out. With you, he actually put in the effort to capture your expressions.
He could see your eyes carefully observe every stroke he made and take in the details. The furrow in your brow as you focused had him contemplating whether or not he wanted to reach his hand over to your face and smooth it out or leave it perfect the way it was.
You hand him the sketchbook and he snaps out of his thoughts.
"Huh?" He had been too in his head to hear what you had said.
"Thank you, I've never had someone draw me before. It feels really nice." You say with a soft laugh. The sound made his skin itch and the tips of his fingers tingle with electricity. He clutched his sketchbook tight enough to pale his knuckles. His nails dug into the material as he barely remembers to stop staring and nod.
You offer him praise and he feels dizzy. You were so nice. Why were you so nice? To him? He wanted to speak but he couldn't decide on what to say.
"I'm super late to practice and my partner's going to be on my ass about it." You sighed. "I gotta go now. You wave goodbye and disappear down the hallway.
He was also a little late to class, his professor shot him a judgmental look as he entered the class a few minutes later. Tenko couldn't bring himself to care. You knew he existed.
×X×
The weather was nice and Tenko was sketching at the outdoor table, when someone sat across from him. He looked up and saw you with an ice cream cone.
"I knew you looked familiar! You're the person that's always out here working on something."
He felt his face heating up as you took a lick of your ice cream. You were so forward. He didn't expect you to approach him again. He had chalked the positive end of your last conversation up to politeness.
"I guess you've been drawing this whole time, huh? Mystery solved. Also explains why you're so good at drawing."
"Thanks to your performances," Tenko says without thinking. He immediately panics at how creepy he sounded.
"Oh, is that why you draw me? I thought it was the outfits since the costume department goes all out for lead roles. Huh, interesting." You continue licking your ice cream while watching him and he has to look away, he felt so shy in your presence. He didn't feel worthy of your attention. You were so soft, so pretty, so talented and he was just a creep with a crush that couldn't stop himself from sketching you constantly.
He looks down at his hands as he stumbles through his nerves when he explains how watching you had helped him with movement, making his art more fluid and dynamic. When he finishes, he looks up and sees you smiling at him. The sight made his breathing hitch and he rasped out a small, "what..?"
Were you making fun of him? Is that what this was? Were you actually just here to-
"You should let me do some reference work with you? I could do more stuff for you."
His eyes widened and he could feel his face heating, the corners of his lips tugging. He didn't know how to speak without making a fool of himself and he was thankful you kept talking. He was happy to sit quietly and watch you.
"We could schedule private sessions, that way it can be just the two of us without anyone interrupting."
"What?" Questioned a third, deeper voice.
The two of you look up and see your partner staring down at you while holding an ice cream cone of his own. "What kinda weird shit you getting into now?"
Your brows furrowed. "Hm? What do you mean?"
"Your wording sucks."
You took a moment to think about it and became flustered. "I didn't mean anything strange," you assured Tenko.
"Sure, pervert."
"Anyways, this is my new friend, uh..." you look over at him sheepishly, "Sorry, what's your name?"
"Shimura Tenko..." His fingers fiddle with the corner of his paper.
"Can I call you Tenko? Or is that too familiar?"
Tenko's face heated up, "Th-That's fine..."
You nod enthusiastically before looking back up at your partner. "This is my new friend Tenko. He's the artist I was telling you about!"
"Oh, so you're the guy who draws her naked?"
"I-It's art..!" You defended.
"S'weird, but whatever." The man seemed bored as he licked his ice cream and took a seat in the chair beside her. "Todoroki Touya. She's like a leech so you're stuck with her now. My condolences."
You nod as you take a lick of your ice cream, "We are now bonded for life."
Tenko awkwardly looks between the two of them, unsure of what to say. The two performers end up in a conversation and he can tell you were trying to include him so that he didn't feel left out. After some bickering, Touya takes a bite out of your ice cream.
"How can you just bite it like that!? Doesn't it hurt your teeth!?"
He shrugs, "The cold never bothered me."
You hum a song from a children's movie as you pull out your phone and hand it to Tenko, asking him to insert his Line I.D. because you want to friend him. He looks between you and Touya, crimson eyes glancing at the arm the other man was lazily resting on the back of your chair.
"Is that okay..?"
You tilt your head in confusion, reminding him of a puppy. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Tenko looks from your kind eyes over to Touya's turquoise ones that seemed to be blazing with fire. As soon as Tenko blinks, the heat was gone and replaced with an impassive expression. Perhaps the dark look directed towards him was simply his mind playing tricks on him.
He typed in his username and you send him a friend request as soon as the phone is returned to you. You angle the phone above your head to take a selfie. Touya shoves his head into the frame, sticking his pierced tongue out as he photobombed.
You notice the time and sit up in a hurry, stating you have a paper due that you still haven't worked on. You run off into the student housing across from the outdoor table.
Tenko watched as you disappeared into the building before looking over at Touya who still sat at the table, only to find that the man was already staring at him. Tension thickened the air like smoke from a fire that made him feel like he was suffocating. He opened his mouth to speak, but Touya scoffs and finishes his ice cream in a single bite before getting up to leave. Tenko watched as Touya swiped his student I.D., shooting him a cocky grin as he entered the same dorm as you.
Tenko felt his phone vibrate and unlocked it to see you had sent him your class schedule so that you two could plan a time to meet up. He eagerly studied the photo and you sent him another photo. It was the selfie you took before you left.
"It was nice seeing you again, Tenko! Let's set up a day to hang out!!"
He could feel the heat rising from his neck to his ears.
You were too cute.
×X×
Over the next 3 weeks, you and Tenko have lost track of the amount of times the two of you had hung out. Sometimes for drawing references, sometimes to eat at the dining hall, sometimes just for the hell of it. Your schedule was busier than his so he was appreciative of the fact that you went out of your way to be with him. Especially on today, of all days.
You and Tenko sat on the floor, your backs against the mirror of the small practice room as he clutched the bag of chocolate cookies you had given him. They were homemade, you said. You had baked them on your dorm floor's shared kitchen. They were in the shape of hearts, flowers, and a bunny for Tenko. He didn't think he would ever forget the ache in his chest when you told him he reminded you of a bunny. The cookies had pink and red icing made with natural ingredients, which was why the palms of your hands were stained with beet juice. He licked his dry lips at the thought of you working hard. Just for him, too, because apparently Touya was a picky eater so you simply bought blue food colouring to use on his cookies. He swallowed anxiously as you continued speaking.
"I was hoping that maybe I'd get chocolates today."
"Isn't Valentine's Day when the girl gives the guy the chocolate..?"
You nod, "Yeah, the norm is girls give chocolates to guys on Valentine's Day then on White Day the guy can give the girl chocolates in response, but you never know! Girls can give girls chocolates, too. It happened to my friend in high school, though it was the guy version of that. Anyways, the whole gender thing Japan does isn't really my cup of tea. Who cares what your gender is, just give people chocolates."
You sighed before continuing, "I've never gotten chocolates before. I know, it's kinda silly to whine about this, but I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic so can you blame me?" You laugh softly to yourself. "If Touya was here, he'd say yes and that it's my fault. He's always teasing me about these kinds of things." Tenko watches as you purse your lips deep in thought.
Tenko chewed his lip before quietly asking, "And Touya? Won't he give you any on White Day?"
"Maybe, but it'll be different." You pull up your knees and hug them. Your thighs were distracting and he struggled to keep his eyes off of them. "The cookies I gave to Touya were obligatory chocolates, not the 'real feeling' kind you would give to someone you like. Last year, I gave Touya obligatory chocolates and he started complaining because he had already received too many sweets. I was so jealous, but at least I managed to convince him to give me his chocolate."
Though he enjoyed snacks, Tenko didn't really care for the holiday. He never really had a reason to... until now.
"Tenko, have you ever gotten chocolates? I mean, other than the ones I just gave you?"
"No."
"So I'm your first?"
He nodded, moving his head to stare down at the sketch in his lap. His fingers fiddled with the corner of the page, crumpling it more and more until it became limp from wrinkling. He'd always found destroying things to be quite soothing for him.
"I..." Tenko was hesitant but decided if you were going to reject him, it was better if you did it sooner rather than later. "I used to live in an orphanage..."
In the corner of his eye, he can see you moving your head quickly to look at him. He tried to swallow his nerves as he continued speaking.
"My family died in an accident when I was five. I was sent to live with a distant relative since there was no one else and the situation was not... ideal. The kids at my new school picked up on my gloominess and shunned me. Even when my great uncle died, my presence would be deemed too unsettling to anyone who tried getting to know me."
He was too afraid to turn his head to look at you so he continued fiddling with the page, ruining more and more of it. You place your hand over his, calming the destruction.
"I used to live in an orphanage, too."
Tenko's eyes widened and he looked at you. "Are you... lying?" He whispered.
"My parents died in an accident when I was little. Wrong place, wrong time. I had no other family in Japan, so I got placed in a children's home. I wouldn't lie to you, Tenko."
His eyes scanned your face, looking for any sign of this being a trick but he could tell from the warm sincerity in your eyes that you were telling him the truth. "I don't know what to say..."
You smile softly at him, "You don't have to say anything."
The feeling of your thumb rubbing circles against his thumb made Tenko's heart tremble. He wanted to swim in this feeling, to drown in it.
He watched your eyes glance down from his and at his lips, his breathing hitching in anticipation as you leaned in slowly to-
The practice room door opened, making the two of you flinch. Tenko missed the feeling of your hand as you leaned back and glared at the intruder.
"I thought I told you to knock before opening doors. You scared me." You folded your arms against your chest.
"Well in that case, I won't give you my chocolates," Touya taunted as he walked over to you. He dropped his bag at the side of you Tenko wasn't on, making a loud 'thump' as it hit the wood floor.
"Chocolate!!" Touya smirked as you opened it and pulled out a heart shaped cookie with the kanji for love written in icing.
"Whatever, eat later. We've got rehearsal."
You look up at Touya while stuffing your face before looking over at Tenko, then back at your partner. "Already? It's not for another ten minutes."
Touya rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag before you could reach in for more sweets. "On time is late."
"Hey! Don't use my words against me, they sound weird coming from you." You wipe your hands against a handkerchief before moving to stand up. "By that logic, you're always late!"
Touya moved towards the door, beckoning you closer with the bag, "Here, doggy."
"Doggy..!?"
"If you spin around and bark I'll give you a treat." The two of you could hear him laughing as he walked out of the room with the bag.
You pout, "That Touya... doesn't he know dogs can't eat chocolates?" You shake your head and Tenko stands, pulling his backpack on. "I guess I'll... see you later then?"
It felt kind of awkward now, but Tenko didn't mind. He only wished that your time together wasn't cut short.
"Yeah."
"Can't wait." You grin and walk out of the dance practice room together. You wave as you go down the opposite side of the hall to catch up with Touya. In the distance Tenko can hear you woof.
As Tenko exited the performing arts building, he felt his phone vibrate. He opened it and saw a selfie of you with chocolate smeared on the side of your face, while trying to shove Touya's face out of the frame and seemingly getting the chocolate on his face in the process.
He grinned. He also couldn't wait to see you again.
×X×
"Chocolate? For me?" You gaped at the small bag of chocolates.
Tenko nodded, his eyes shyly peering up at you as you grabbed the bag and opened it. "There's only four. I made more but they… got ruined…"
"They're handmade?" Your face softened at him, making his heart flutter and his fingers flex at his sides in excitement. You took a bite of one and grinned wide, covering your mouth with your hand as you spoke. "This is really good, Tenko. I didn't know you could cook."
Tenko couldn't but he wasn't going to ruin the moment by speaking. He watched as you ate. The two of you were sitting side by side at his favourite outdoor table near your dorm. Last month, on Valentine's Day, the end of your conversation was a little awkward but thankfully it was gone the next time you guys saw each other. Once again, the two of you had hung out together a bunch of times. The biggest difference though was proximity. Tenko had noticed you getting closer and closer to him at every encounter.
"I finally received chocolates from someone. I'm really happy that it was you, Tenko."
He felt like he died and went to heaven. It would explain your presence. You just needed a halo.
"They're…"
Your eyes looking up from the bag made him nervous and he shook his head, deciding it was better if he didn't finish the sentence.
"They're what?" You ask, sensing his hesitation. "It's just me," you reassure.
"Just you..?" Just you? Just you?
You smile at him before looking down at the bag of chocolates with a pensive expression for a few moments. You look back up at him.
"Tenko."
"…Yes?" His voice nearly broke. Did he go to far? Did he?
"Even if your hair is always in your face, you're pretty cute." You reach out and brush his hair to the side, tucking it behind his ear. The warmth of your finger tips were no match for the heat flaring across his entire body at your sweet gesture.
You giggle and slowly lean in to his face. He doesn't move. He is frozen. You place a kiss on his cheek and he panics, moving further away in his chair with his hand coming up to hover over the site of your affection.
"Y-You kissed me…"
"I--I'm-- I'm sorry! I didn’t think you would be offended by it. Are you okay?"
"What about Touya!?"
You look at him with a puzzled expression. "What about Touya?"
"He's your boyfriend, isn't he!?"
"Huh!?" You sat up straight in your seat. "I don't have a boyfriend??"
"What?"
"You mean, this whole time you thought Touya was my--" A laugh escaped your lips for a brief second until you collected yourself, looking at him seriously. "Touya's my best friend. I mean… I did like him at one point but it was unreciprocated. Not that it matters, that's old news. I like you, Tenko."
The air left his lungs and he was pretty sure it wasn't going to come back anytime soon.
You liked him?
You?
Liked him?
Shimura Tenko?
Was he dreaming? Hallucinating this entire conversation? It was the only way any of this made sense.
"Here, eat some of these chocolates with me. They're really yummy. The perfect mix of sweet and salty." You pluck one from the baggy and lift it towards his lips. He stares into your eyes then down at the chocolate.
"I'd rather you eat them…"
You pout, "Okay, I won't force you."
You nibble on the chocolate and Tenko licks his lips at the sight.
"What?" You half-laugh. His eyes snap back up to yours.
"I like you, too."
"You do?" You look at him shyly. "I guess now would be a good time to tell you those chocolate cookies I gave you were the 'real feeling' kind?"
You've liked him for that long?
Without warning, Tenko leans in and takes your lips into a kiss. It's clumsy and awkward like him, but you don't shove him away. He can taste the salty sweet on your tongue as you kiss him back and though he wants to keep going, his lungs protested. He pulls back and the two of you stare at each other as he gathers his bearings.
"Was that your first kiss?" You ask.
He offers a small nod, "Was it that bad?"
"It's okay, we'll have plenty of time to practice."
Surprise filled him. "You want to d-do it again?"
You giggle, "Of course I do. So, as long as you're alright with it…"
"Right now? We can do it again right now?" He knew he sounded eager but he couldn't bring himself to care. He needed to feel the softness of your lips against his own.
"I like your enthusiasm." You laugh. "Let's do it when it's just us, okay? We're in public. I'm sure we can schedule in some more uninterrupted private sessions, right, Tenko?"
Tenko gulped, nodding since he didn't trust his voice at the moment.
You weren't disgusted by him, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to be alone with him. You accepted him and all his faults.
You liked him.
Tenko, impatient as he was, could wait as long as you needed him to.
He loved you.
-
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18+, minor don't interact with the 18+ contentTomura shigaraki's biggest simpArtist, writter
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