Two Hours - Chapter 1 - Shigaraki X Reader
Two Hours - Chapter 1 - Shigaraki x Reader
***
Maybe, just maybe, some things might be worth waiting for.
***
Two hours.
He was late by a full two hours. Meaning 120 minutes, 2700 seconds, 7200000 precious milliseconds wasted of your life. You'd know, you counted.
You glared at the library clock again, as if it was its fault you had been stood up. Disgruntledly, you pushed back your chair, getting up to put your laptop and revision materials back in your bag. It was the last time you'd try and help a stranger because clearly, strangers sucked.
You had done tutoring for different classes since your second year in college. Literature, philosophy, anthropology, history- name it, you could teach it. And you loved doing it like few other things made you happy. Was there anything as wonderful as showing others the beauty of human nature, its creativity, its passion, its sincerity?
"Sincerity my ass," you thought, angrily shoving your backpack on one shoulder. It clunked loudly as it bumped against a wooden shelf, and the librarian threw you a dirty look from the other side of the room. Part of you felt bad; you had spent a while trying to cultivate a good relationship with the older man, since you spent most of your free time in the library. But the rest of you, which was to say almost all of you, didn't care, because you were unbelievably frustrated.
You had had students give you tons of excuses before: they were sick, their mom was sick, their neighbors' dog was sick, and they just had to skip the tutoring session. You didn't mind that; they'd always text at least an hour in advance, and you'd have the time to read their message and go home with a smile, instead of walking all the way to the library.
But today's guy was different. You knew he had your number and your email address: it was part of the tutoring agreement you had both signed online. And yet he hadn't had the decency, the respect, to send a single message to tell you he couldn't come to the two-hour appointment he himself scheduled. And now, you had just wasted two hours, excitedly waiting to expose the wonders of literature to a guy who couldn't even bother to text you "can't come".
You gave the librarian a half-hearted nod of apology and headed toward the big glass doors at the front of the building. The weather looked moody outside, the sky grey and heavy like rain could start pouring at any moment. You didn't need to check your bag to know you didn't pack an umbrella. It was clear this was one of the days.
Sighing, you opened the heavy door to walk out at the same moment a man pushed to get in. You tucked your body to the side to keep the door open for him, but he flatly ignored the gesture, walking past you without uttering a "thank you".
"Yup," you thought, "strangers suck."
Before you could take more than a few steps outside, a droplet of water fell right on top of your nose, stopping you in your tracks. And then another, and another, and in a flash, the area was getting flooded, puddles already forming around on the dark asphalt. You couldn't help as another sigh escaped you, bracing for the impact of the freezing rain as you took a step forward into the tempest.
Then, something grabbed you by the shoulder.
You yelped in surprise and turned around, fists instinctively bunching up to your chest to protect yourself, heart racing. It took you a few seconds to recognize the rude guy who had just passed you on his way in.
He was tall, taller than you had first realized. His oversized hoodie made it hard to gauge his frame, the visibly worn-out fabric stretched shapelessly around his torso. Your eyes looked up for a face you couldn't find: the black hood fully obscured his features, and for a second, images of killers in horror movies alarmingly flashed through your mind.
You shoved yourself out of his grip and took a step back, eyes wide. He nonchalantly placed his hand back in his pocket, an unimpressed glare staring right back at you. His eyes were red, bright red.
"You're the tutor, right?"
You looked at the ominous figure incredulously.
"What ?"
"You're the tutor, right ?" he repeated in a low, raspy tone. He sounded annoyed.
You kept staring at him, wondering if he was speaking in a foreign language you had never heard of.
Then, his words started registering.
"Tomura..." you started uncertainly, the math adding up in your head as you remembered the name on the little manilla folder you had prepared for today, "Shigaraki ?"
A small smile etched itself onto the man's face, and you noticed how cracked his lips were, a faded scar going through the dried skin. Strands of slightly greasy hair, white as snow, rebelliously escaped the black hood, and for a second you caught another glimpse of his crimson eyes. But they disappeared back under the shadow of the fabric, and you realized your body had tensed like a rock.
"I'm the guy," he said nonchalantly, the hand you had pushed away going up to his neck and mindlessly scratching the skin there. There were marks there, some old, and others so fresh they looked like they were bleeding. Anxiously, you wondered if instead of a killer, you had stumbled on an addict.
"Hey, so when do we go get a seat inside? It's fucking cold out here," he added, gesturing lazily towards the library.
You kept staring.
And staring.
And staring.
He hadn't possibly said what you thought he had just said. No one was so impossibly clueless and self-centered that they would come two hours late to a meeting and act like they were the one who was being bothered. But the cold rain falling down your face made it aboundedly clear: this was real.
"No," you finally said, enunciating the word slowly.
He looked as confused as you first did, the smug, composed look on his face instantly falling. He didn't look like he was told "no" often, and you felt the flame of anger start to burn inside you.
"What do you mean, no?"
"I mean no," you replied drily, feeling confidence coursing back through your body. There was no doubt in your mind you already looked like a drowned rat from the rain, and that your waterproof mascara was starting to reach its limits. But you weren't about to be scared of some loser trying to look tough with a crusty hoodie and unwashed hair.
"You came two hours late for the tutoring, which lasts two hours. My work slot with you is from four to six, and it's exactly," you snapped, bringing your phone up to his face, "Ten past six, so my work here is done."
He stared at your phone in incomprehension, then back at you, irritation slowly settling on his pale features. His thin brows frowned, and you noticed another scar marring his right eyelid the piercing crimson stare bore into you. Maybe he was some kind of gang member, and if so, was it a good idea to mouth off to him?
"Look, I don't know what crawled up your ass, but I'm paying to have a tutor," he snarled drily. "That's not fair."
You had to wonder if you were even talking to an adult. So maybe he was a killer, or an addict, or a gang member, and he would end up stabbing you for it, but by God, were you going to put that guy back in place.
"Well, tough luck, buddy," you almost spat out, your usually level-headed patience entirely fizzled out, "it wasn't fair to make me wait two hours and then expect me to have nothing other to do in my life than tutoring your sorry ass. But life isn't fair, is it ?"
You turned around, throwing the man one last angry look: "If you want tutoring, then be there next week. On time."
You felt oddly proud of yourself as you walked away, leaving him wet and alone in the rain. And if you were slightly trembling at the feeling of the crimson stare boring through you all the way down the library path, well, you just had to pray he didn't notice it.
---
"Huh," you noted with both surprise and apprehension, "you're here."
And indeed, there he was, slumped in one of the library's chairs, the stranger you were certain wouldn't come to your meeting this week: Tomura Shigaraki.
You had spent a few days feeling bad about the way you had handled things; yes, he had been incredibly late and entitled, but you never gave him any time to explain himself for it all. Maybe he did have a good reason, and maybe he had only acted so entitled because he was having an especially rough day.
One look at the condescending glare he threw you was enough to confirm that wasn't the case.
"Yeah, I'm here," he muttered, looking away, his right hand still ripping away at his neck like the last time you had seen him. You couldn't help but wonder about the gesture, the practiced way his fingers would visibly carve into the skin. Allergies? Eczema?
His vermillion eyes never left your figure as you put your bag down and awkwardly sat across from him, looking down at the carpeted floors.
"Why are you that surprised ?" he added flatly, "I told you, I'm paying for this shit."
You weren't a confrontational person; or at least, you did your best to avoid confrontation. But you'd been tired last week, and his whole little disrespectful charade had pushed you over the edge. You weren't sure you were up to deal with it again.
Your lack of response seemed to irritate him; he picked up a small handheld console from his lap, immediately busying himself in a game like your presence held no meaning to him.
You took a small breath, not wanting your temper to rise again; if you wanted this to work, you'd need to be the first to give the olive branch. You put on a nice, professional smile: "Let's put everything to the side for a moment, start over. Maybe we could both introduce ourselves again ?"
His thumbs toyed with the joysticks on his handheld, disinterest palpable."Why? I know who you are."
You could have strangled him.
"Nevermind," you smiled so forcefully it hurt your cheeks. "So, you're here for Lit 3250, Absurdism in Literature. That's a fun class."
"I'm only taking it because I have to," he grumbled. "I'm in computer programming. They make us take a class in the humanities department because the education system is fucked."
You raised an eyebrow at that, genuinely surprised: "They're making you do literature in computer science ?"
He shrugged, his eyes going back to the game on the small screen with obvious boredom.
"Told you. The system is fucked."
You pulled out the little manilla file you had prepared for him from your bag, spreading a few documents on the table between the two of you. For a second, you could have sworn his bored expression flickered into something new, but it was gone before you could register it.
"Well, I might not be able to do much about that, but I can try and make the class easier," you smiled a little more genuinely this time as he put his handheld to the side to look at the papers you had slid in front of him.
To your complete astonishment, as you guided him through the material, the man listened, never once taking notes, yet able to answer any question you threw his way in the shortest, most concise way possible. He seemingly absorbed the information while looking wholeheartedly disinterested, like remembering the words was barely any more work than eating or breathing. You had to wonder if the programmer in him coded the sentences in his mind, imputing every word as little lines of binary code, or if he was just this naturally, annoyingly smart.
"Alright, that's it for today," you concluded, noticing you had gone over the material you had planned for two sessions in just the last two hours. "I didn't take you for the kind of guy to listen to a tutor, but you've done a really good job today."
You gave him an honest smile, hoping to finally mend the bridge from last weekend's incident. Instead, he promptly looked away, lips tightening into a thin line.
"S' just cause I need to pass the class to get my diploma. I don't really give a shit about any of this stuff."
If he saw your face fall at that, he didn't show it. He grabbed his handheld and shoved it in his front pocket, promptly throwing his ragged backpack over his shoulder, as if the last thing he wanted was to stay here a minute longer with you.
"I'll see you next week, then," you hesitantly said, more a question than a statement. He didn't look back at you when he spoke with a grunt, already making his way out.
"Whatever."
---
"So Camus' thing is society is fucked, and as soon as you realize it you gotta kill yourself, right ?"
"Basically !" you beamed excitedly, circling a paragraph in the text facing him with the tip of your finger. "It's the idea that when you understand your role as just a cog in the machine in a mindless daily life, you have to either ignore it to rejoin society, or leave society altogether."
A small smile danced on Shigaraki's chapped lips, as smug and mocking as all his smiles were. You sometimes wondered if his face could ever express pure, genuine happiness, or if it was perpetually stuck with that self-satisfied expression.
"Yeah, I can get behind that."
It fit him, in a strange way. And he had every reason to be pompous: in three weeks, you had both gone through double the material you had planned for his first sessions, as be blasted each lesson like a simple tutorial fight in one of the many video games you'd catch him play before each lesson.
"Me too, actually," you agreed.
He looked at you disbelievingly: "You? Feeling like you're not a part of society? Give me a break, you're a tutor in university, there's probably a normie award for that."
"Well, even us normies are really just always doing the same thing, aren't we ?" you explained, laying your chin against your hand pensively. "Take the two of us. We always meet here at four o'clock on Wednesdays, at the same library, at the same table. We don't go through the motions because we want to, we do it because we have to, and that's what everyone expects from us. Kinda makes you want to quit society too, doesn't it ?"
For a moment, he said nothing. There was something unsettling in the way his ruby eyes bore into you, like he was judging your very soul. You felt your cheeks unwillingly redden after a few seconds under his piercing stare, looking away in slight embarrassment. If a few weeks spent with him were enough to convince you he wasn't a serial killer, you still found yourself troubled whenever he'd look at you too long.
He finally seemed satisfied with whatever he found looking into you, eyes mercifully leaving your face before settling on something on the table.
"That's a Plus Ultra sticker," he commented flatly.
You followed his gaze to your cellphone, face down, the small video game logo barely visible on the cover. How had he even noticed it?
It wasn't that you were ashamed of gaming in your free time, but you knew for a fact the entire literature department bore a clear disdain for any media not printed onto pages. They laughed off anything else as childish and a waste of time. Needless to say, you had never shared that passion with anyone on campus before that moment.
But damn, did you love Plus Ultra.
You couldn't help but grin excitedly at him: "Oh wow, you play too !"
"Sometimes," he shrugged with obviously fake disinterest, his crimson eyes brighter than you had ever seen them before."It's not the best game or anything, but it's alright. I feel like the whole hero fantasy trope is kinda overplayed."
He suddenly clammed up, like he had just remembered who he was talking to. The classic sour, haughty look you had gotten to know reappeared on his face.
"I just didn't know any girls played that game," he mumbled.
And there he was, the asshole you had met on that first rainy day.
"Well," you replied drily, "I play, and I'm actually one of the top All Might players in the country."
His pale fingers tremored at that, the excited brightness that he was trying very hard to conceal back in his eyes. It was so childish it was almost endearing, in a way.
"Well, what a coincidence. I'm also a top All Might player, except I was in the world ranking, last time I checked," he bragged, nonchalantly picking at his fingernails. "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two later."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the implication of a "later", of a world where you would be together outside of the required tutoring time, seemed to dawn on him. He stammered wordlessly, red spreading like fire on his pale face. It was... a lot more endearing than you would have thought.
"F-forget it. That was stupid."
You couldn't help but soften at that. Maybe, underneath the dirty hoodie and the deadly glare, he was as timid and insecure as you felt he was. The lashing out, the quips, the bratty entitlement- were they all just a facade for a guy who genuinely didn't know how to interact with others?
"Well," you hummed, "maybe after you're done with your midterms you could come over to my dorm for a match. There's a big communal TV you can pair consoles with."
The cold, detached mask was back, but it was much harder to believe with the pink coloring that reached the very tip of his ears.
"Yeah, maybe."
---
A month passed before you encountered your first hurdle in your tutoring work with Shigaraki, in the form of a "CLOSED" sign glaring back at you from the library's glass doors.
"Damn it," you mumbled, opening up your phone to find an unread message from the faculty announcing a temporary shutdown. Shigaraki, who had taken up the habit of coming on time for your sessions, looked incredibly pissed.
"So the fuckers think they can send one email and be done with it ?" he angrily snapped, kicking the library's plexiglas door so harshly it made you flinch. You took a mental note to never do anything to find yourself on the wrong side of that kick.
"Well, we can reschedule for tomorrow!" you chirped. Perhaps he'd appreciate you trying to put a positive spin on the situation.
The look he gave you could have turned you into dust.
"I'm already here. And I'm busy tomorrow. I have important things to do."
Briefly, you wondered if by important things he meant staying home and gaming. The college's main campus wasn't very large, and in the few years you had studied here, you had never caught a glimpse of him once. He had the kind of dim presence one could easily forget, but if you had passed him before, you would have known.
"I think the law building lets you take rooms for study sessions, " you proposed.
He sighed, voice raspy with irritation. "It's full of pretentious assholes," he replied drily, "and it's almost a thirty minutes walk from here."
"You're kind of a pretentious asshole yourself", you thought silently. It was clear he wasn't going to help or do anything that required too much effort on his part. When Shigaraki wanted to be annoying, he was really annoying.
"You got a better option ?" you mumbled, frustrated.
He looked down at his shoes, suddenly silent. "Ah ha", you thought victoriously, "didn't think so".
Then, words you could have never expected came out of his mouth: "Yeah. Come to my place."
You looked at him incredulously. He looked as surprised as you did, like he wasn't the one who had just talked.
"I live like ten minutes from here," he explained hurriedly, glaring down at the asphalt like it might melt and swallow him whole, "it'll take way less time."
It wasn't as if you didn't know the guy at all, but to say you knew him enough to go to his house, alone, was a stretch.
Although you had been able to shake off your initial fear of him, you still felt something dark and looming in the way he carried himself. For as easy as it was to read him when he was embarrassed or caught off guard, the calculating, sharp gaze he seemed to judge the world with still left you at a loss. Even more so right now, when it was directed at you.
"Ok," you eventually said before you could decide against it. What was the worst that could happen?
At first, you hadn't had much reason to worry; you walked along the main streets that cornered the campus, still filled with quite a few students going about their business. But then, he took you into a small alleyway. And then another, and another, and another, to the point where you couldn't recognize what part of the city you were even in. The buildings you passed had gotten older and older the more you walked, most of the ones surrounding you were now decrepit and abandoned. They loomed over you and Shigaraki, fully blocking the sun, a claustrophobic maze of old bricks and concrete.
You realized that you had drifted closer to Shigaraki unconsciously, your shoulder almost brushing against his. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away, the simple proximity of someone you at least relatively knew reassuring to your mind.
If Shigaraki noticed, he said nothing, his long, lanky legs moving forward without hesitation. You took a moment to discreetly observe the man, his features more detailed now that you stood next to him. The scarring was much worse than you had first realized. It spread from the small glimpses of his forehead you could see behind strands of shaggy white hair, to the start of his chest hidden by his black shirt. In some spots, the skin looked dry, old; in others, it was like it had been freshly ripped apart by sharp and uneven nails. You had found it worrying for yourself, at first, when you thought he was some kind of junkie; but now you found yourself worrying over how much the bruising hurt him.
His hand protectively grabbed his neck when he noticed your staring, thin eyebrows frowning in annoyance.
"Before you ask, yes, I've tried creams and ointment and all that shit the doctors send you to buy at the drugstore. It doesn't work. I know I'm ugly, you don't need to rub it in."
A pang of guilt hit your chest. You didn't think before honestly replying: "I don't think you're ugly."
He looked at you coldly, any trace of friendliness gone: "You think you're real smart playing with me, don't you?"
"No, I mean it, I don't think you're ugly!" you hurriedly exclaimed. "Just, ok, look."
You quickly pulled back the sleeve of your shirt, showing him the inside of your forearm with insistence. His eyes narrowed suspiciously: "What the hell am I supposed to look at?"
"A scar," you replied, showing him the thin pale line that crossed your skin. "I got it as a kid when I fell from a tree in kindergarten. Oh, and I also have this one!"
You tugged at your pants to reveal a darker webbed mark on your ankle, the skin smoothed by time: "That one is really stupid, I got it from wearing heels three sizes too small at my high school prom and falling down a flight of stairs. And I also have this other one-"
"I get it !" he interrupted, frustrated. "Yeah, alright, you have some scars too, but it's not the same thing as me."
"I know it's not," you replied calmly. "I'm not trying to say it is. But... I don't think having scars makes me ugly. I think they show I've been through something, and I'm still here to tell the story. And I think you might have been through a lot, but you're still standing here with me. So... if you don't think my scars make me ugly, then you shouldn't think yours do."
He didn't reply, silently making his way forward. Had you made him feel angrier, or even embarrassed? In one last effort to get your point across, you added:
"I think they kind of make you like Eraserhead in Plus Ultra 3."
That made him stop right in his tracks.
"You...think I look like Eraserhead ?" he hesitantly asked.
You nodded, and his cheeks reddened slightly. He took a few seconds before letting out the next words:
"Don't laugh," he warned you, "or I'm leaving you here. You can just find your own way back or get murked in an alley for all I care."
You crossed your fingers, presenting them to him ceremoniously.
"I won't laugh. Promise."
"I actually decided to grow out my hair to look like him."
Cute.
That was the first word to come into your mind. Cute.
You quickly chased the very strange and unwelcome thought away, in case Shigaraki interpreted your pause as a laugh.
"Well," you replied, "when I was seventeen, I dyed my hair bright yellow to look like All Might. I think I definitely got the short end of the stick in the idea department. "
He laughed, honest to God laughed, a raspy and genuine sound that made something foreign in your chest tightened. You started laughing too, and soon, you were nothing but two giggling idiots in the absolute middle of nowhere.
"Guess you're not that smart after all, miss tutor," he commented with a smirk.
His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, like he wanted to say something else, but ultimately chose against it. He continued walking without a word, and you followed him the rest of the way in companionable silence, never straying far from his side.
---
It was a bar.
Or rather, the remains of something that once was a bar. A dingy neon sign with the three-letter word hung precariously above the door, the large "B" flashing within an ounce of its life. The walls were covered in graffiti and grime, a suspiciously moldy smell seemingly emanating from the bricks themselves.
"You... live here?" you asked hesitantly as Shigaraki made his way towards the building with no hesitation.
"Yeah," he let out, head snapping back around and eyes narrowing defensively. "You have a problem with that?"
Yes, several, including the probability of being stabbed to death here and my remains being found in the back of a garbage truck.
"No, no problem," you said.
He answered that with a grunt. The small staircase that lead to the entrance creaked under his weight, and he pushed the front door open.
"Wait here," he commanded. It was clear the subject wasn't up for discussion, so you opted for nodding along. "I'll come get you when I'm done with something."
It was all starting to feel like a terrible idea. So what if he liked the same games you did and actually seemed to listen to you rant about literature? You barely knew anything else about him.
You knew he felt lost in society and rejected by the world. You knew his whole face would become red as a tomato anytime he felt embarrassed or flustered. You knew he would bite his lip in concentration when he played on his handheld, and that his leg would bounce up and down like a puppy's tail every time he got close to winning. You knew his eyes were unlike any you had seen before.
But what did you really know?
"You lost ?"
You spun around so fast you stumbled on your own feet, almost falling straight onto the dirty pavement.
The man standing in front of you had sneaked by so silently you had never registered his presence, even with how close he had gotten. He seemed very amused at the way you backed away in fear, your eyes wide.
"No, no I'm fine, I'm- I'm waiting for a friend, actually," you managed to stammer out.
Somehow, he didn't look like he believed that at all.
He was the picture-perfect example of men your parents had told you to stay away from. His skin was covered in dark tattoos, their shapes incomprehensibly mingled with what appeared to be burn scars, seemingly spreading all over his body. In the dark, one could mistake him for a walking corpse, blue eyes glistening unnaturally in the middle of a patchwork face.
The man dragged his cigarette across his lips, letting a dark puff of smoke escape.
"What a friend, making you wait outside in the cold," he commented, the burnt and inked skin around his mouth moving in a manner you could only describe as uncanny. "Pretty stupid of you to hang out with people from here, princess. Lots of creeps in the area."
He moved closer, so close you could smell the tobacco off his breath, and the instinctive need to run coursed through your body.
"No need to be scared though," he let out with a smirk that screamed the absolute contrary. "I can stay with you for a while. Protect ya."
He was too close for you to run, now; if you tried, he could easily grab you with the large hand that was nonchalantly making its way toward your waist.
"Dabi."
Your head spun towards the entrance at the same time as the man's did. Relief spread through your body at the sight of Shigaraki, standing in front of the door where he had left you. His crimson gaze, which usually never left your form alone for more than a few seconds, was not focused on you, but on the stranger, who looked back at you with an utterly flabbergasted expression. Whoever he was, Shigaraki wasn't happy to see him.
"That's your friend ?" the stranger snorted as he started laughing uncontrollably, like he had just heard the funniest joke in his life. "Holy shit, you're even dumber than I thought you were !"
Clearly, Shigaraki did not find that funny in the slightest. You had forgotten how cold his expression had been when you first met him, uncaring and eerie. This was that, but colder, angrier, like the ripples that started forming in the water as a devastating storm would approach.
"Dabi," he repeated, and his tone was dark, final. For the first time in weeks, you felt something akin to fear at the sight of him, even knowing his anger wasn't directed at you. Had he always looked so unnervingly intimidating?
"Ok, ok, she's all yours, boss," the man finally said as he backed away, dropping the butt of his cigarette before unceremoniously stomping it. "Didn't mean to touch the property."
Tomura silently walked towards you, a rigid, cold hand forcefully grabbing yours and pulling you towards him. He headed back in, fingers so tightly clutched against yours that it hurt, and you followed without protest. You threw one last look at the man he called Dabi, a look of pure amusement on his face.
"Property", he had said.
The innards of the bar were much cozier than the outside view let on. It was relatively well kept, with a red counter with a few retro-style stools occupying the majority of the space, the leftover corner dedicated to an old leather couch facing a battered TV. With no windows on the walls, the only light came from a few yellowish neons hanging on the ceiling. The room was empty except for the well-dressed man behind the counter, who you could only assume was the bartender. He merely nodded at your arrival, his face obscured by a cloud of dark hair in the dim light, what you could discern of his body barely a shadow against the wall of bottles.
Shigaraki ignored him, pointedly dragging you to a door at the back, which lead to a small, dark corridor. He only stopped when he reached the last door, swiftly turning the rusty knob.
It wasn't difficult to understand it was his bedroom; the only light came from the double monitor screen connected to an impressive gaming PC. With the exception of a few shelves filled to the brim with trinkets and figurines, the walls were mostly bare, the white coat of paint discolored and yellowed. Visibly dirty clothes were pilled up in a corner, as if someone had hurriedly picked them up for the floor and tossed them there in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal them.
"Sit anywhere," he grumbled, looking away. "Or don't. Whatever."
He was even worse at hiding his blush than he was at hiding his clothes. You couldn't help but smile.
There were only two spots you could sit in the room: the expensive-looking gaming chair, which was clearly the most valuable item in the entire bar, or the messy one-person bed, which seemed to not have seen a washing machine in a while. The last thing you wanted was to anger Shigaraki after the encounter with the man outside, so sitting in his gaming chair seemed like a bad idea. You opted for the bed, praying to God the sheets naturally looked so patchy and discolored.
"W-what the fuck are you doing?" he sputtered immediately as you sat, eyes wide.
"Sitting," you replied simply.
"Not there! Are you stupid or something?" he audibly cringed. Damn it, you had made the wrong call. "Just sit on the floor. It's not dirty or anything, Kurogiri cleaned it recently."
You glanced doubtfully at the impressive amount of energy drinks and used tissues littering the room before lowering yourself down out of fear of seeming rude. Briefly, you wondered if Kurogiri was the man you saw mend to the bar. He looked nothing like Shigaraki, and referred to him far too politely to be family. He was too young to be his father either way. Was he both the bartender and the housekeeper?
"But why would Shigaraki have a housekeeper?", you wondered silently
"The guy outside, Dabi," you finally said. "He called you boss."
Shigaraki didn't even bother turning around to answer flatly: "And ?"
"Do you... own this place?"
"Something like that. Here."
He handed you a controller you immediately recognized, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around it just like with the one you had spent countless hours playing with at home. Shigaraki smirked slightly at the sight of you already being ready for combat.
"So, spill it out. What's your tragic backstory ?" you asked, leaning your back to the wall with a mischievous smile.
"What ?" he replied, seemingly caught off guard.
"C'mon," you pressed. "I've never seen you wear anything other than a black hoodie over a black shirt and black sweatpants. You're not subtle about it."
"I don't think you've unlocked that dialogue option yet," he retorted, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "How about you? What's your tragic backstory ?"
You chuckled: "What makes you think I have one?"
"You'd have to be a little fucked up to follow some guy you barely know into a shady bar in the middle of an abandoned factory district," he replied, raising an eyebrow, a wicked smile on his lips.
You couldn't help but smile at that; he was right. "Well, I don't think you've unlocked that yet either, Shigaraki."
"Just call me Tomura," he offered, a touch of resignation in his voice. Was he finally warming up to you? "Might as well if I'm stuck with you for the rest of the semester."
Maybe not. But something felt oddly nice about this, about him, and no matter how weird it all was, you couldn't help but let yourself bask in the strange feeling.
The computer let out a familiar little tune as the game booted up on the screen. Shigaraki visibly hesitated between sitting on his own chair or the floor, ultimately selecting the floor while keeping a reasonable distance from you. You had a feeling he wasn't very comfortable with women. But what he may have lacked in social skills, he definitely made up in gaming: his eyes burnt with fiery passion as the title screen appeared on the monitor, his hands tight around the controller. The look he threw you was one of pure confidence:
"C'mon. Show me what you're made of."
He immediately selected All Might in the character selection, implicitly daring you to do the same. All Might was the most powerful character in all the game, but he was famously the hardest one to master, with his controls requiring intense speed and dexterity. You could tell Shigaraki hadn't been lying about being one of the greatest All Might players; his fingers were already lined up on the buttons for a noticeably hard deadly combo. But you weren't one to back down on a challenge.
"5 rounds. No bonus power-ups," you smiled right back at him, pressing the button to also select All Might. The screen flashed red as the game loaded the fighting arena.
"You're playing a pretty dangerous game, you know that, player two ?" he commented, a hint of warning in his tone.
"I don't intend on losing," you replied with a grin.
And if the wild spark in his eyes meant anything, neither did he.
More Posts from Flamme-shigaraki-spithoe and Others
❝𝙃𝙀 𝙃𝙐𝙍𝙏 𝙈𝙀 𝘽𝙐𝙏 𝙄𝙏 𝙁𝙀𝙇𝙏 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝙏𝙍𝙐𝙀 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀.ᐟ❞
T. SHIGARAKI + HIMBO!M. READER
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; after you nearly get seen after tomura finally lets you go outside, he questions if you really love him and you play a game to prove it to him.
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, stockholm syndrome, dark content, kidnapping(past tense/mentioned), reader is all might's son, oral(m receiving), degradation, praise, use of 'good boy', dacryphilia, death(mentioned/threatened), mean!tomura, reader's skin color not mentioned
Tomura had finally agreed to let you go outside! It had been probably months since you’d been this far outside, you were lurking in the darkness of alley’s but you could see people! You could smell the bakeries, hear people talking, and see all the shops you used to go to before. You were so happy! So happy that you barely were paying attention to what you were doing.
Your hands held the brick wall of an apartment building while you gazed at the teenagers talking and walking, they were students from the U.A., and that green-haired kid and endeavors son were with them too. You continued to stare in awe wishing you could just go out and talk with your friends like that, when you did go out like that you used to get so many people asking for pictures with you or asking you questions about your dad and you thought it was so annoying but now, compared to the isolated room you were always in, it didn’t seem so bad.
Without thinking, you put one foot in front of the other nearly stepping into the sunlight before there was a tight grip on your hair, down to your scalp pulling you back into the secluded darkness of the alley. You fell onto the grimy ground with a whine “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tomura asked as you looked up at him from your spot on the ground, he was looking at you with the harshest glare in his blood-red eyes as he let go of your hair with his pinky still raised “Nothin’!” The excuse was nothing but a waste of your breath to the blue-haired man as he continued to glare down at you “Well it seems to me like you were about to let yourself be seen. Have you forgotten you’re still missing or have I fucked too many of your brains out?” He gruffly said grabbing you by your arm with his pinkie raised and pulling you to your feet as you looked at him with ashamed eyes as you pondered on what to say.
“No…I remember…” You said looking down at your feet with a slight pout on your lips knowing that if he saw it he’d get even more upset, all you were doing was trying to get a closer look! It’s not like you were trying to escape or anything, he was jumping to conclusions “So why the fuck are you acting like you don’t?” You flinched slightly at how he raised his voice while he began to drag you deeper down the alley retreating to the hideout. You shrugged as you looked away from him “Was an accident, didn’t mean to…” You mumbled trying to catch up with his fast pace looking back a final time at the teens as they passed but this time, one turned their head to look at you, it was endeavor’s son “It’s always ‘didn’t mean to’, ‘it was an accident!’ I’m tired of fucking hearing it.” Tomura said making your head turn back to him to look at him with the pout on your lips growing.
It was the truth! It was really an accident, he never believed you! What a jerk! “It was! Promise!” The words were practically a long whine as you tried to pry his fingers off your arm because he was squeezing it really tight and it was sure to leave a bruise later if he kept going “Just shut the hell up, all that comes out of your mouth is excuses and slutty whines.” You almost teared up at his insults but kept your mouth shut, you knew better than to keep talking after he told you not to. You learned that the first day you got here, he almost disintegrated your tongue.
You wondered what would be your punishment when you got back, would he lock you in the closet with no food again? Would he break your leg? Would he let Dabi burn you? There are so many things he’s done to you in the year you’ve been here that you don’t even remember what he hasn’t done yet. And he liked to be original with his punishments most of the time, so you didn’t expect it. It terrified you and that’s why he did it.
You still loved him though, he’s the person who’s been taking care of you and giving you almost everything you wanted for the past year how could you not? Your loyalty lay with him and you’d never run away, you haven’t tried to use your quirk on him in seven months! But somehow that wasn’t enough to make him realize your faithfulness.
“Don’t start that crying shit. I haven’t even done anything to you.” Tomura said harshly looking at the tears that bubbled in your eyes while you two approached the door to the hideout, he opened it and shoved you inside as you wiped your eyes with the back of your hands.
“What’d he do now?” Dabi asked with a chuckle from his spot at the bar, he found this entire dynamic fucking hilarious, how you were like a puppy dog that followed Tomura everywhere and would pout and be upset the entire time when the blue-haired man wasn’t around, sometimes you’d even cry.
He’d often say how Tomura went too far when breaking your mind because now you were a Tinkerbell that acted like he would just die if Tomura didn’t show him a bit of attention.
You stood there looking down at the ground with furrowed brows as Tomura merely grunted in reaction “Go, I don’t want to fucking see you.” He said not even sparing you a glance and you looked at him with widened eyes at his harsh words wanting to say something but decided against it and followed his instructions with tears falling onto your cheeks while you sniffled. He was really upset at you, he didn’t even yell so you knew you were in for it. You’d probably never go outside again.
As you trodded into the room closing the door behind you, you let out soft whines and sobs because Tomura couldn’t hear you now and he couldn’t yell at you for crying because ‘you did it to yourself’ or ‘he didn’t even touch you’. Tomura hated seeing you cry and not because he felt bad but because you cried over the most pathetic things, you cried if he spoke to you any harsher than normally and it annoyed him. Don’t get him wrong, sometimes you have moments when your tears are justified, and 8 times outta 10, he ended up letting you cry to him about it because as much as he denied it to everyone but you, he cared for you which is why you’re still here and not disintegrated.
Tomura may have hated your tears because of how often they were spewing down the apples of your cheeks but god did they get him going, most of the time whenever you cried it ended in him fucking you so you’d stop fucking crying and it always worked.
You lowered yourself to the ground under the boarded-up window while wiping your red eyes harshly, it was a little sad how this villain got to him. You practically depended on him for everything, if he died you’d be lost. If proheros came and found you, you’d be lost. Sure you’d be home with your dad but you’d be completely lost, you wouldn’t know what to do. So why would you ever leave him? Was he just so mad that he couldn’t even think? He had to be! He didn’t have to know rocket science to figure out the dependency you had on him “So stupid…” You muttered looking down at the wooden floor, when you heard faint footsteps getting closer to the door, you looked up at the door sniffling.
The door opened revealing the blue-haired male, he didn’t say anything and just closed the door behind him and sat on the bed that was across from you not glancing at you and he just sat there his legs spread and hunched over. You wondered what he was going to say or what he was thinking about, you’re just glad Dabi didn’t follow him. You didn’t want second-degree burns on your neck again “M’ sorry…” You apologized leaning forward a bit with your hands planting themselves on the floor, you looked up at him with the largest puppy eyes you could manage and this is when he made eye contact with you.
His eyes weren’t narrowed as you expected nor was he glaring at you, he was simply looking down at you with his regular eyes but in his blood-red eyes, there was anger, you could see it swirling around in his cherry irises. He raised his pale hand before gesturing you over to him and you quickly obliged settling yourself in between his legs and not breaking eye contact with him at all “Do you know what would’ve happened if anyone saw you?” His raspy voice echoed in your ears as it took you a minute to process what he was saying, of course, you knew, he had told you over and over what would happen even in the beginning when you absolutely despised him.
An agreeing hum escaped your throat while you nodded slowly looking away from him shamefully “Say it.” Tomura said sternly his eyes narrowing down at you as he leaned his cheek on the back of his hand, you looked down at his hand that was resting on his thigh inches away from your face nervously before blinking back up at him “Heros will come…” Tomura’s pale and ashy hand that was closer to your face grabbed your jaw with his pinkie raised, his grip on your face was harsh “And if they along with your dear daddy comes, they’ll take you. You wanna be taken?” Former you would’ve said yes so quickly, you used to hate Tomura, he used to have to chain you up in the closet so you wouldn’t run away but now, you didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay here with him forever “No…j’st wanted to look, was so pretty…” You grumbled out as your hands went to his arm wrapping your fingers around his wrist and forearm in an attempt to make him loosen his grip but all it did was make it tighten.
“I hope you enjoyed it because you’re never seeing it again, those ungrateful U.A. brats almost saw you.” You remembered making eye contact with Endeavor's son, you think his name was Shoto or somethin’? You felt guilty knowing this and not telling him but if you did tomu would probably be even more upset with you than he already was “Tomu! Please no, I won’t run away, promise!” You pleaded, you loved going outside even if it was just outside the hideout for fresh air, gosh why did you have to make that mistake the one-time Tomura let you go out with him to spy on people!?
The shaggy-haired man let go of your jaw almost throwing your face back as he did so before turning his head away from you “Too bad, you didn’t do that earlier. Makes me think you don’t even love me.” Tomura responded he knew what he was doing, he was making you feel bad for what you did so you’d make it up to him because you should. I mean you were hurting his feelings so bad by doing that, it’s only right you make him believe you actually love him.
Your hands flew to his thighs as you looked up at him with wet eyes “I do, love you so much! Would do anythin’ f’you!” You yelled hoping he didn’t actually believe that, you saw the smirk on his face and heard the unserious tone in his voice but for some reason, you believed that’s actually what you thought. Jeez, if you couldn’t see that he was fucking with you he’d really fucked with your head.
He turned his head to look at you with his smirk widening “Anything is a lot baby, you sure?” You could feel your jeans getting tighter at his words and how lowly he spoke but you ignored it and nodded violently at his words while waiting for your next command looking up at him as he pondered what he should make you do. When you said anything, you meant anything. If he told you to shoot someone, you would. Of course, you’d hesitate, he knew that from fucking with you and making you think he’d have you do that. He was planning on fixing that.
Tomura planted his hand on your head making sure to raise his pointer finger so he didn’t turn you to dust right there “We’re gonna play a game.” You had no idea what he was planning to do which would make this even more interesting “You have five minutes to make me cum and with every minute that pasts, a finger goes on your neck.” The man said evilly while gently tapping one of his fingers on your neck, you froze and your face dropped at his words.
This wouldn’t be the first time Tomura had threatened your life and it definitely wouldn’t be the last but five minutes…? He expected to make him cum in only five minutes? “Wha-What?” You stuttered looking at him with wide eyes tears coming back up.
He scoffed and took his finger off your neck and put his hand by his side “I mean you don’t have to do it, it’s obvious you-” “No! I-I’ll do it!” You yelped slamming your hands on his scrawny thighs while straightening your back and getting your face closer to his, the difference between both of your eyes and what was hidden in them was very different.
A smile reappeared on Tomura’s face before he leaned back on his elbows “You better get started.” He said evilly putting his pointer finger on the side of your neck making your skin run cold and your eyes burn with tears that were just begging to be let free and roll down your face.
You couldn’t sit there like a little innocent dog staring at him like you didn’t have any idea of what he was going to do because you did. You knew he was going to do something like this and you knew no matter what it was, you’d do your part. Tomura has always been very open to you with his feelings and his intentions with you, he never hid them and yes they indeed changed over time of knowing you as did yours but he never lied to you about it. When he was going to hurt you, he let you know that whether it be with his words or the way he looked at you and sometimes it’d be optional and sometimes it was just something you needed to take.
The optional ones happened more often and it wasn’t optional like some fucked up saw the trap, it was optional like you do whatever he wants you to do or you don’t. You always chose to do it too.
Honestly, you were just as fucked as he was because you valued his trust and loyalty in you more than anything and wanted him to see you so you did things you didn’t have to just so he could know how much you loved him as if throwing away your freedom for him wasn’t enough. Not like you had it in the first place but when he allowed you to have it, you picked him over all.
And you would continue to.
So you had no right to treat him like he was some big bad villain because you did something he didn’t force you to do. Tomura was an awful guy that’s not a secret and anyone will say that even you but you were right there by his leg huddling your cheek further into the fabric of his jeans as you unbuttoned them ignoring all the awful things he had done.
“Do I need to help you or are you gonna hurry up?” Tomura asked making you blink up at him with a nod of your head but he grabbed your hair lifting one of his fingers and pulled at your roots “Speak. I don’t understand that shit.” He glared at you as you hissed at the feeling of your hair being pulled at harshly.
“‘M gonna hurry up…” You mumbled gripping his pants and squeezing your eyes shut and he let go of your hair and leaned back on his hands staring at you waiting for you to continue. You quickly unzipped his pants and pulled them down to his ankles along with his boxers.
You took one last look at him before opening your mouth and shoving your head down on his dick wasting no time before you got to sucking reaching your hands up to play with his heavy balls “Oh you really wanna live huh?” Tomura said with a laugh one of his fingers hovering dangerously close to your skin as he counted down the seconds to one minute.
The way he said it really made you think he wanted you to die. He just wanted to disintegrate you and turn you into ash. That hurt your feelings more than him threatening your life did.
Tears streamed down your face as you sobbed on his cock trying your hardest to make him cum before your five minutes were up. Your tongue ran up and down him, as you choked gently as his tip hit the back of your throat over and over every time your head bobbed. Tomura began thrusting his hips up pushing himself further into your mouth.
The sight of your plump lips wrapped around his cock working so hard just to please him was exciting for him and he could cum faster if you kept fucking looking at him like that tears in your eyes but he held back. He didn’t know how long he’d hold back but he definitely wasn’t giving you the satisfaction of cumming within four minutes. Tomura also wanted to know if you’d cum first.
He knew of your infatuation with him and he wanted to see if you’d cum within those five minutes maybe even before you made him cum just off sucking him dry and being threatened. Tomura wanted to see how much of a slut you were even though he already knew.
And he knew you were rock hard in your little boxers pre-cum leaking from your tip just twitching and aching to be touched.
“Oh fuck…” He mewled lowly throwing his head back and putting one finger on your neck making chills run down your spine “One minute down, you sure you can do it, baby?” Tomura asked as if he hadn’t moaned a second ago but maybe that was just because he was enjoying the stress he was putting on you.
Your sobs got louder as you tried to get some friction on your dick from rubbing it against the frame of the bed and you came in your pants choking on your moans and Tomura. You took your mouth off him and began to jerk him off with one of your hands the other continuing its work on his balls “Please tomu’! I’m so sorry!” You wept knowing two minutes were close to past only leaving three left.
“I don’t know…still waiting for you to prove it t’me,” Tomura said with an evil grin on his face placing another finger on the side of your neck. He wasn’t being fair! You were trying so hard to prove that you were sorry!!
“Please tomu’!” You didn’t even know what you were begging for at this point and neither did Tomura but he wanted you to shut the hell up. He was quick to shove your mouth back down on his length silencing your words but not your moans or sobs; those were incredibly loud and anyone in the bar could probably hear them. Not like either of you cared very much.
Tomura’s hips stuttered as he resisted the urge to thrust up in your mouth as he had done before and that’s when it hit you. He was holding off on cumming. He was wasting time and purposefully making it run out!
He really did want you to die.
You tore your mouth off him along with your hands backing up and leaning against the floor staring up at him with such teary eyes “Fuck are you doin’?” Tomura asked making eye contact with you his brows furrowed as he was close.
Your hand came up to wipe at your mouth covered in drool “You were holding back. ‘S not fair.” You mumbled looking away from him and instead focusing on the ground but your eyes drifted to your crotch seeing the wet patch formed in your pants. Your legs closed to hide your shameful act but the red-eyed man had already seen it.
“I wasn’t gonna let the time run out.”
“Are you sure?”
Gathering the courage, you looked up at him again “Did you really want to kill me?” You asked your voice breaking. The idea that he’d hate you or want you gone in any way was awful and degraded your mind never failing to leave tears behind and you wanted to know if he really did. He’d threatened you so many times that it only added up that it was true.
“No.” Tomura gruffly said continuing to stare down at the strands of blue covering his visage “I need you here beside me.” He said and you looked up at him with hope in your eyes a smile nearly forming on your face.
There was silence as you stared at him processing his words “You need me too, don’t you?” You didn’t hesitate to nod crawling on your knees and ending back in between his legs again. You really did need Tomura…you didn’t think you’d be able to live if you didn’t have him.
He took care of you, he made sure you were safe, he helped you and the bad times were just a small part of that. All relationships have their downs compared to their ups right? Even if you two weren’t really in a relationship.
“I do…I’m really sorry about earlier. Believe me.” You murmured pressing your cheek against his thigh and nudging it into his skin blinking up at him ignoring his twitching hard cock right next to your face. Tomura just stared at you his scarlet look burning into your face no emotion showed on his face but when he placed a hand on your head making sure to raise his pointer finger, you knew he forgave you.
“Good.”
©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!
Symbol of fear by day, gamer by night. 💦
A new life for Tomura part 7
Alright so..it is personnal i don't ship shame but i'm sorry but shipping Tomura and Afo is litteraly not okay. Bro raised groomed and ruin Tomura's life like..what ? Like litteraly what ?!
Who want to sit on his laps ? 😩✋🥵
I don't have addh but that's litteraly me xD
as a fellow gal with ADHD, please consider: shiggy/hyper & easily distracted gf
Oh man, I think it would drive him crazy. Shigaraki is so hyper focused and determined, and he’s obviously somewhat organized and skilled at bringing things together.
Those of us with ADHD (especially untreated) tend to be a bit scatterbrained and easily distracted. Could you imagine sitting through a long, grueling meeting with the league, and you just find yourself staring at the wall, daydreaming? You’re trying to listen, you really are, but every once in a while, he says something that sends your mind on a tangent and it becomes almost impossible to listen?
Anytime you have to read over recon or reports, you have to do it about 8 times because even though your eyes are scanning over the words, your head is totally somewhere else. It’s just not digesting the words. Sometimes you have to quiz yourself (or have him do it for you) to make sure you absorbed the information.
And sleeping next to him? Oh man.
“Hey!”
“What?”
“You’re twitching your leg again.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it.”
“Well stop! You’re shaking the whole bed!”
“I’m trying! I start doing it subconsciously.”
“Well knock it off. I’m trying to focus.”
“Okay.”
...........
...........
“You’re doing it again!”
He’d have to check in on you and make sure you’re not getting sidetracked while you work. He even has to pay extra attention to where you put things because you have a tendency to lose track of stuff.
“Did you see where I put my phone?”
“I saw you with it two minutes ago.”
“I know. I can’t remember where I put it.”
“Did you check your pocket?”
“Yes, Tomura, I’m not stupid.”
“What about the counter?”
“Already looked.”
“And what about the bathroom where you went right before you lost it?”
“....huh.”
“Idiot.”
Even when he’s looking right at you, he’s not entirely sure you’re listening. Sometimes he asks you to repeat what it is he just said just so he can be sure. Your impulsive nature doesn’t necessarily help matters. He thinks if you spent half as much time working as you did daydreaming, you might have destroyed society on your own by now.
“What the hell are you looking at?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been staring at the counter for 10 minutes. You’re barely blinking.”
“Oh. I was just wondering what it would be like to have a quirk like Hawks. You know, like flying and stuff? Do you think he ever gets bugs in his teeth? And what about going down, do you think his stomach does the flippy thing or do you get used to it? Also, do you think he needs to like, brush his wings? You know when you get a few hairs parted on the wrong side and it feels weird? You think you get that with feathers? And since he’s birdlike, you think he lays eggs or-“
“You know what? I’m sorry I asked.”
Yeah, it would drive Shigaraki crazy sometimes. But even though he’ll never tell you this, he thinks it’s cute, and he doesn’t mind it nearly as much as he pretends he does. Plus, he’s more than happy to help keep you organized and remember things you might have forgotten. It’s a minuscule price to pay to be with you, and something he’d probably do anyway.
Bloodline
summary: Tomura Shigaraki teaches you a lot of things. part two of good girl cross posted to ao3 word count: 4.4k content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, established relationship, explicit content, AU - no quirks, strict parents, oral (m! recieving), vaginal fingering, creampie, rough sex, praise kink
Tomura Shigaraki teaches you a lot of things.
He teaches you the secret tricks to win at mario kart online, he teaches you about the location tracker on your phone and how to disable it; your parents now being unable to watch your every move. And today he is teaching you how to fully take his cock down your throat without choking.
“Relax, just like that,'' Tomura groans as he pushes deeper into your mouth.
You have both been at this for a few minutes and you already feel the ache of your jaw as you try to accommodate for his size. Youve gotten this far before, able to take the head and a bit more, but never the entire length.
Feeling brave, you try to push for only a little bit more, before feeling the telltale jerk and gag as it hits the back of your mouth. Damn that gag reflex.
“It’s okay,” he gasps, brushing your hair back with his fingers, gentle and warm, “you’re supposed to gag on it.” The grin on his face makes you wonder how much of that is true, but you’re eager so you don’t dwell on it.
Looking up at him with tears stuck to your lashes and drool trailing down your chin, you place a hand on his hip, pulling back a little so that you could stroke the remainder of his length with your other hand.
The carpet was rough, digging into your knees as you adjusted your weight. You were going to figure this out by the end of the night. You were determined to. You sucked the head of his cock before pulling back to glide your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty precum before going in again.
This time you took his advice, relaxed as best you could and pushed past the uncomfortable sensation. Once you finally felt you were past that damned reflex it was easy to push forward.
Moving your hand to the other side of his hip for better grip, you dove further and further. Trying to take him all the way to the hilt.
“Ah, fuck…” you heard him groan above you, the hand in your hair gripping tighter. You could practically feel the restraint he had on himself to keep from fucking into your mouth. You weren't ready just yet. “That’s my girl,” he started, hand in your hair pushing you even lower, your nose brushing against the curly hairs on his pelvis. “Such a fast learner.”
The grip he had on your hair never faltered as you strained to pull back, lack of oxygen becoming a little much for you. He relented, giving you a second to breathe before pushing your head back down, making sure you were comfortable before he brought his other hand to your head and snapped his hips forward. Resolve finally breaking as he fucked into your mouth, head thrown back and pace relentless.
It was overwhelming, tears falling from your eyes from the sheer shock, but you wanted to be good for him. You wanted to show him you could take him, just like he knew you could. It didn’t matter if it was too much too soon, you would fight through it and adjust. Anything to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.
You close your eyes, starting to enjoy the ride of him and allowing yourself to be used for his pleasure. When his hips slowed, you wondered if he was getting close. Looking up, you’re met with tomura’s red gaze peering back at you, and you can feel your slick wet your panties even more.
“My pretty girl,” he brings a hand to brush your hair back again. “Touch yourself.”
And you do. Legs parting as much as you could, ignoring the friction of the carpet on your knees, you trail a hand down, sliding between your panties and right onto that special spot that makes you see stars.
Tomura is pleased by this, and you can’t help but moan around his cock. Watching as his head lolled back in pleasure gave you a sense of pride. Made you want to keep sucking him off, no matter how much your jaw started to ache in protest.
You relinquished control again, allowing him to grind into your mouth as he pleased, your tongue working under his gliding cock. His thrusts became more uneven and erratic, you knew he was close, so, you do what you can to make sure you come with him. Rubbing your wet clit faster with two fingers instead of one, the pleasure bubbling up inside as you near your end. You wished you had the angle to slip a finger into your entrance, but you don’t, it's alright. You‘ll make do with what you have.
Tomura takes both hands and grips your hair, giving a few more thrusts until he is pushing your head forward, making you take him all the way to the hilt leaving no room to back away or stop him. You feel the twitch of his cock as hot cum shoots down your throat. The sensation was one you were less than prepared for, but you do your best to swallow around his cock.
You barely have time to think about the lack of oxygen the position grants you before Tomura is pulling you off of his cock and pushing you to lie on the floor. He spreads your legs, swiftly discarding your panties and taking two fingers, pressing them to your mouth. You take them in, coating them with saliva while maintaining eye contact. He huffs a laugh before taking them back and spreading your legs further apart.
Your heart hammers against your chest in anticipation as he brings not one but both fingers to your entrance. His face focused and filled with want as he gives you one last glance. It makes you feel electric.
He thrusts both fingers into your heat, the suddenness of it makes you moan, loud. His fingers are long and thick and it takes everything in you not to cum right away. You do your best to meet his thrusts with your hips, before he grabs you by the waist.
“Stop,” was the only warning he gave you before putting one on your legs on his shoulder for better leverage. All it takes is a curl of his digits and you come undone. Bliss buzzing down to your bones as you ride out your high on his fingers.
You look up and Tomura has that cocky smirk on his face and you don't know if you want to kiss it off or knock it off. You don't have time to dwell on it because your body is still reeling from waves of pleasure and Tomura is still pumping his fingers.
The overstimulation is making you pull away, but his grip on your thigh makes sure you go nowhere. “C’mon, give me another one. I know you have it in you.”
Your body shakes as the sensations start to blend together, and you reach a feeble hand down to stop him. The aftershocks of your first orgasm quickly begin to build and build until you feel the coil of another threatening to push you over again. Tomura leans over your cunt, dropping a thick bead of spit right on your clit and rubbing the bundle of nerves with his thumb.
This takes you over, your legs shaking and eyes rolling back as your second orgasm of the night wracks through you. “Yeah, that's it.” Tomura praises, fucking you through it with his fingers, wet noises filling the room.
Your brain feels like mush as you fight to stay awake. Cumming feels nice, but you didn't want to sleep on the floor. Tomura believes you’ve had enough and takes his fingers out, standing up and walking to the en suite bathroom in his bedroom.
You hear the sounds of running water and battle once more to remain conscious. When he comes back you feel the warmth of a washcloth cleaning you up and you’re grateful.
He helps you to bed, legs feeling like jello and knees wobbling.
You felt like something fragile, like you would break at the slightest noise. The headspace you were in made you feel needy, like all you wanted to do was cling to him under the covers. And you did, your body meeting his as you can finally drift off to sleep in peace.
—--
Something different was brewing under the surface of whatever you and Tomura shared. It was growing and it was hungry. It was something Tomura couldn’t quite place his finger on, but it was bubbling in the back of his mind and threatening to take him under.
There was no time for him to dwell on whatever that thing is because right now? There was another problem staring him dead in the face.
“Ah, Tomura, hello.” The man speaks, breaking the uncomfortable silence between the two. Smile gracing his worn features, “what a pleasure to see you.”
Tomura could think of a thousand other things that would be more pleasurable than having a meeting with his Father.
“Father.”
His smile to others would come off as off putting, never quite meeting his eyes, but Tomura has grown to know it well. Even through the screen he could feel the waves of displeasure coming from the man before him. Previously sitting in the video chat waiting room, he could only wonder what reason this impromptu meeting was called for.
“So I heard you have a new lady friend.”
Ah. That's what this is about. Damn you, Kurogiri. Always a snitch.
Tomura only shrugs, not seeing a point in discussing his private life. His father never interfered before, he doesn’t see why he should now.
This seems to displease the man further, as he only purses his lips and tilts his head. Not an answer he was looking for. He decides to change tactics. “I didn’t know you wanted children, Tomura. And so soon!”
His eyes narrow in response, unsure what game he was playing. “I don’t.”
The man before him smiles, light in his room shrouding his eyes in a shadow. “You're not acting like you don’t.”
Tomura is quiet. He knew this father well, there was always a reason for his actions. Always a motive behind his intentions.
The man before him continues, voice lightly echoing through the screen, “Kurogiri tells me you’ve been more… active. You are free to do as you please, Tomura, but please remember that everything I am doing with this business is for you. If you expect to take over when I step down then I expect you to be a little more responsible.”
He’s shocked, Tomura felt the familiar itch of his neck and fought to keep his hands from digging into the skin there. “How did you know that–?”
“You know Kurogiri takes out the trash. He buys things for you. It didn't take much to deduce you weren't using protection. Is she on birth control at least?”
The silence gives him his answer.
“Well that just won't do, will it?” he coos, knowing he has Tomura against a wall. “It’s alright Tomura.” He continues, solution on his tongue, sweeping the displeasure under the rug. “I will talk to the doctor and see if he can get you something for her. He will be in contact soon. I will check in again with you after.”
There was no room for debate, no room for arguments. What he says is absolute and Tomura knows this. “Yes, father.”
—--------
The next time you meet, the air is different. Tomura is more reserved than he usually is. If you didn't know any better you would say he had been sulking.
“What's your deal today?” you ask, flicking his forehead and biting back a smile at his halfhearted glare.
He only shrugs, standing from his place next to you on the bed. “I have something for you.”
This piques your interests, eyebrow raised and smile dancing across your lips. “Oh? I thought you weren’t big on gifts.”
“I’m not.” He walks over to his desk, pulling out a package from one of his drawers, “but if we’re going to keep doing this like we are then you need to take these.”
He holds the case out to you, watching your eyes dart from his face to the package. “It’s birth control. We shouldn’t be reckless.”
“Oh, Tomura, no I can't take this.” you start, shaking your head, “and I can't bring this home to my parents, they would kill me. Where did you even get this from?”
“They won’t know. And my father is really good friends with our family doctor. You just take them once a day everyday and we can fuck without condoms with no problems.”
You frowned at the small box in your hand. “I don’t know. It sounds risky.”
“More risky than you turning up pregnant?”
“No, I guess not. Okay.”
His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving him. You went back to hanging out like normal.
—-----
“My parents have been getting more suspicious of Mina.” You say, falling onto the couch next to Tomura, over-buttered popcorn in your hand spilling a bit from the drop.
“Oh, have they now?”
You nod, taking a piece and popping it into your mouth. It was finally the weekend and Tomura promised he would watch this new thriller movie with you.
“They say that it's not normal for me to hang out with a friend that much. Especially since they haven't seen her around as often.” you shrug, “they also aren't happy about my lack of location. I’m worried they’ll start snooping around my room next.”
Tomura places an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side and knocking more popcorn onto the couch in the process. Kurogiri will give you both an earful for the mess later.
“It’s fine. Worst case scenario we just lay low for a little bit. They can’t keep you under their thumb forever.”
He had a point, but you couldn’t ignore the pit forming in your chest. You didn’t want to have to sneak around all the time. There shouldn’t be anything keeping you from seeing who you wanted, whenever you wanted. You were an adult damn it.
Especially not since you’ve started to feel… closer to Tomura these days. Before it was fun and things were done on a whim, but now? Now you felt sick at the thought of cutting him off.
“If this movie blows, you owe me.” The rasp of his voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
“It wont! The previews were really good.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled, playing the movie and reaching for the popcorn. You could only push your thoughts to the back of your mind, desperate to enjoy whatever you both had right now.
The movie was bad. It was cliche. Predictable. And Tomura was having the time of his life letting you know that.
“And for her to go further into the house instead of just running toward the front door? Idiot.”
Your pride was too big to be put to the side. “Oh, yeah? Like you would have thought of that in the heat of the moment.”
He scoffed, “I would have.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Yes huh.”
You rolled your eyes, standing from the couch, relishing in the fact that Tomura was trailing behind you. Eager to talk about the movie and more into it than he let on.
“I’m just saying, you wouldn’t have had a chance unless you’re secretly some kind of murderer and know the tricks already.”
Tomura stopped, looking at you from across the kitchen island. “Who knows? Maybe I am. Maybe your parents are right about me.”
You can’t bite back your scoff, placing the empty popcorn bowl in the sink and looking at him with a raised brow. “Oh really?”
He leans forward, palms pressing into the island counter.
“Yeah,” he starts, a grin spreading along his face, “maybe I'm the big bad wolf they think I am.”
You know that he’s trying to be intimidating, trying to tease you, but the drop in his voice only goes straight to heat between your thighs. You don't know what game he’s playing at, but you could take the bait.
“Oh no,” you exaggerate, voice raising a few octaves, “that would just be terrible!”
He takes a step to round the island counter, but you’re faster, dashing off into a sprint further into his home.
The home was large, but you had been in it enough to know your way around pretty well. You took the familiar path to his room, (through the living room, up the stairs). After almost losing your footing on the stairs you vowed to never make fun of the horror movie girls who always seemed to fall at the worst time.
Your breath was ragged as you continued, hearing Tomura’s steps behind you and steadily getting closer–
“Ah!” You cried, barely making it through the doors before being tackled to the floor, mercy not being shown as Tomura grabbed your hair, pressing you further into the carpet. “Okay, okay!”
He didn't let up, instead leaning forward, lips so close to your ear you could feel them, “I told you. The movie was bad, you owe me.”
You gasp as he stands, pulling you up with him only to push you onto his bed. You were giddy with excitement, barely able to raise up before Tomura pushed you back down, reaching forward to take your shorts and panties off in one swoop.
The cool air made you shiver as you sighed in relief.
Tomura laughs, bringing a finger to your entrance and sliding it along your folds, “Did me chasing you really get you this wet?”
You could only whine as he pressed a finger inside, resistance minimal.
“I guess it can’t be helped.” The drag of his finger was slow as he pressed the small of your back, knees sliding further apart and exposing yourself to him more.
“T-tomura, please!” you cry, begging him to go faster. “More.”
“Oh? You want more? Is this not doing it for you? Could have fooled me.” He pulls his finger out, a whine on your lips before he smacks your ass, no doubt leaving a mark, and grabs your hair again. He presses your face into the pillow to muffle your cry. “Shut up. I’ll tell you when you can get more.”
He slides two fingers in, the stretch making you bite a moan into the pillow below you.
His pace is merciless as he fingers you, mocking his earlier slow pace. A punishment of some kind since you were so desperate for more. If you wanted more then he would give you more.
You couldn't quiet your mewls as he met the spongy bundle of nerves inside and you could feel your inner thighs tensing in anticipation as you grew closer and closer to your end. It was so close you could taste it.
And then there was nothing.
Tomura was cruel. He was cruel, and evil, and so fucking mean and you wasted no time letting him know these things. Only to get a laugh in return.
“What? Were you close?” He mocked, bringing his weight down onto your back to whisper into your ear. “Too bad.”
You felt it then, the press of his cock along your entrance and whined. Tomura was too good at this villain role he was playing and you couldn’t stop yourself from getting even more aroused from the denial. You could practically feel yourself dripping in anticipation. His cruel words sending arousal straight to your pussy.
The way he towered over you only made you more eager. Crowding your senses and sending you into overdrive as you struggled to think clearly. As much as you wanted to press back into his erection you knew that would only make him drag it out longer.
Tomura was currently gliding his cock between your folds, the head brushing your clit and finally giving you some kind of relief. You felt him press harder on the small of you back, bringing your hips flush with the bed as he fucked between your folds. His cock meeting your clit at every thrust. Tomura moaned at this, his erection pressed between your warm body and the soft sheets.
“T-tomura,” you moaned, letting your head fall to the pillow below you, “I can't take it.”
Seemingly done with teasing you and at the limit himself, Tomura listened. Backing away to line up with your dripping cunt. The pressure was relieving, a sign that you would finally get what you want. But he stops, expecting, “what do you say?”
You bite your lower lip, frustrated at needing to do more. “Please, please give it to me, Tomura.”
This satisfies him, the press of his cock finally entering you has you both sighing in satisfaction. His slow drags quickly turn into full blown thrusts as he pounds you into the bed. You feel lightweight.
Your brows furrow as your hand grips the comforter below, the pleasure was creeping up again and it was only a matter of time before the rope inside you snapped.
You feel Tomura grip your hip so tight you know it’ll have a bruise when this is all over, and he leans forward. Lips in their familiar place by your ear, “yeah, take it. Take it like a good girl.”
It was impossible to stop the whimper as you felt Tomura’s thrusts getting more erratic. The warmth of his chest is comforting as he crowds over you. Feeling Tomura come undone is almost as satisfying as your own undoing.
The way he bites your shoulder to quiet his own groans leaves you breathless. The pain mixes with the pleasure and you can keep yourself from crying out. You squeeze your eyes shut as your release washes over you, gripping his bedsheets below for dear life as the wind is knocked from you and the erratic thrusts inside you reach a new high.
Tomura’s deep groan is the only warning you get before you feel the familiar twitch of his cock and warmth spread across your insides. His hips stutter as he rides out his orgasm, placing gentle kisses and licks onto your shoulder. Trailing those kisses up your shoulder and onto your neck, warmth tracing along the areas.
He drops his head onto your shoulder, giving himself a moment before pulling back and out of you. You shiver as the once full feeling leaves you, cum trailing behind and onto his sheets, now in dire need of washing.
This part is always your favorite.
It's soft, it's slow and it's calm.
Like there's nothing else outside of this room. No responsibilities, no time limit on a relationship, nothing. It's just you. It's just him and it’s all you want right now. You let yourself relax in tomura’s cloudlike bed, eyes falling shut. You’re surrounded by the cozy feeling and soft smell of his scent on the pillow.
You could feel the fuzz of sleep taking over your brain and fought desperately to keep it at bay. You knew once you woke up reality would be knocking on your door.
Your worries dissipate as you feel warm fingers brush your hair.
You turn towards him and meet ruby red. Tomura was looking at you. Tomura was looking through you. It sent heat to your cheeks as you looked back. You close your eyes, leaning into his gentle touch. Tomura was very touchy. Like his hands could make up for the things his mouth couldn't say. You didn’t press or pry, it didn’t feel like your place.
Tomura has always had his own way of opening up when he needed to.
So for now you just enjoyed the feelings, enjoyed the butterflies dancing in your stomach and the feather light touch in your hair. You feel the press of lips to your temple and don't bother to hold back your smile as you drift off to sleep.
—----
You're putting on your shoes when you notice it. A compartment in your overnight bag was opened. One that you swore you had zipped closed before heading over.
“Hey,” Tomura calls, from his place at his desk and breaking your train of thought. He reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a packet. “I have your dose for next month.”
You’ve become very familiar with the small pack of birth control pills over the last month. “Oh, thanks.”
Tomura hums, attention falling back onto his pc and the youtube video playing on it, “Yeah, give me the old package.”
You take the item from his distracted hand and begin rummaging through your overnight bag.
You frown, “I'm looking for it. It should be in my bag, I swear I brought it with me.” You feel your anxiety spike as you empty all of the contents of your cream colored bag, going as far as to turn it inside out. No pills.
Shigaraki isn’t bothered. “You may have left it at your place. It's fine. Just bring it to me when you find it and I'll get rid of it.”
“No, that's what I'm worried about. I know I put them in here.” Your heart sinks, you don't think they would stoop as low as to go through your overnight bag, but you know better. Your father knows no boundaries.
Fuck.
—----
You make it home a little after the sun has set and you thank the stars that the living room is empty on your arrival.
Actually, the entire house feels empty on your arrival. Your abdomen feels full of lead as you trek through your dark home. Too dark for the time of day.
You could turn tail and run now. Quit while you're ahead and avoid whatever may be waiting for you, but you know that’s an over exaggeration. There could be nothing wrong. You steel yourself and continue to your room.
The strip of light pouring from underneath your closed door has your palms sweaty as you swallow your nerves. You push your bedroom door open to be met with
Nothing.
It is as empty as your home and you almost kick yourself for being so theatrical. You huff a sigh as you place your bag down and walk towards your bed. You're not sure how it slipped your sight the first time, but now you’re close enough and cannot ignore the note placed on your neatly made bed.
A note, handwritten and from your parents, with your empty container of birth control pills placed on top of it.
Love Like Ghosts - 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 1
There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. Rent in the city you live in is so goddamn fucking high that it was either keep living with the worst roommates in existence or find a way out to the suburbs. But the suburbs are wall-to-wall McMansions, so far out of your price range that calling it a bad joke would be an insult to both concepts. All except this one single neighborhood. And within this one single neighborhood, this one single house.
You knew there had to be a reason it hadn’t sold. You’re not an idiot. So you did your research, like the law student you wanted to be before your loans from undergrad kicked in, and found absolutely nothing. No murders in the house’s history. No accidental deaths. No urban legends about curses and creepy children living in the walls. You even went so far as to track down a previous owner, who was perfectly nice, and perfectly willing to talk about the three weeks he spent living there before he sold it and ran for the hills.
No, he said, he didn’t hear anything. Or see anything. No strange accidents or unstable floorboards. There were no strange bumps in the night or objects left out of place. Just a constant, ever-present feeling that he was being watched.
Carbon monoxide leak, maybe. When the pre-purchase inspection happened, you made them check that twice. And for toxic mold. But there was nothing. Just an old house in a too-big lot at the end of a quiet street, hemmed in by the wetlands on three sides. A total steal. You couldn’t believe that no one had bought it.
People come close, your realtor told you on your last walk-through. One time I had a lady come all the way to the end of escrow before she backed out.
Why’d she back out? you asked idly. Your realtor made a face. She didn’t say?
Oh, she said all right. Said something was wrong. That it didn’t like her. The realtor scoffed. It doesn’t like or not like anybody. It’s a house.
He said that, but you could tell he didn’t believe it, and because of that, you asked him if you could finish the walkthrough alone. He left reluctantly, clearly concerned that you were going to back out of the sale, too. You weren’t planning on it. You just wanted to see if there was something you were missing, if everybody else who hadn’t bought this house had picked up on something you didn’t. You walked from room to room, picturing where you’d eat, where you’d sleep, where you’d set up your office when you finally went to law school and got licensed and set up your own practice. You didn’t feel anything wrong, even when you sat down in front of the fireplace and played devil’s advocate one last time, trying to talk yourself out of signing the papers. It was just a house. Your house.
When you came down the front steps, your realtor was leaning against his car, looking more than a little dejected. His face fell when he saw you coming. Change your mind?
You shook your head. Give me the papers, you said. And I’ll need a pen.
Moving in took you one weekend. Less, even. Living in tiny apartments through college and your first few years on the job didn’t give you much room to accumulate pointless stuff, as much as you might have liked gathering little trinkets as a kid. It took you one and a half trips to move all the important stuff, and then it was just you yourself. You, yourself, and your dog.
Looking back, you definitely should have brought Phantom with you to check things out before you signed the papers. In horror movies, dogs are always the first ones to figure things out. But when you hooked up Phantom’s leash and let her out of the car to sniff around, she didn’t react at all beyond how dogs usually react to arriving in a new place – sniffing everything, picking up everything in her mouth, yanking at the leash until you let her tow you around the front yard. When she clambered up the steps to flop down on the porch, you breathed a sigh of relief. Phantom liked it here. You liked it, too.
And you still like it, three and a half weeks after you moved in. In fact, you think you might like it more than you did when you moved in. That’s not a surprise, really – your main criteria in buying a house was that it was a house, and not an apartment you have to share. Sure, your commute in to work sucks now, but it’s worth it when you get to come home to somewhere quiet. No terrible music. No terrible perfume or makeup smears on the bathroom counter. No rotting food in the fridge or moldy dishes in the sink. Nobody’s having very loud, very kinky sex in the room next to yours all night, because there’s no room next to yours – and there’s nobody in your house but you. You sort of wish you’d done the home ownership thing a while ago. It would have saved you a lot of stress.
“It’s kind of perfect, actually,” you say to your friend over FaceTime. “Really perfect. I wish you could come see it.”
“Yeah, me too. But you know how it is. Loans.”
“Loans,” you agree. “The downpayment on this place basically cleaned me out. If anything goes wrong I’m going to have to start selling my organs.”
Your friend laughs. “Start with plasma. You can replace that easier.”
“Or feet pics. I don’t have to replace those at all.”
She laughs, and so do you, and the sound echoes through your house. “Listen to that,” your friend marvels. “It must be dead quiet there.”
Quiet, sure – but over the past three weeks, you’ve noticed that the house feels alive even when nobody’s making noise on purpose. You can hear Phantom’s toenails clicking on the floor in the living room and remind yourself to get a rug. And a couch. You’re doing laundry, and the sound it makes is comforting. The hum of the fridge is, too. “I don’t mind,” you say. “I like it here. The only problem is the dust.”
The house has been empty for years by now, so it makes sense that there’s a lot of dust. You knew that going in, and you’re still slightly horrified at the clouds that come up every time you touch a surface that you haven’t dusted earlier that day. “We’ll just call you Cinderella,” your friend jokes, and you scowl. “Or not. Sheesh, lighten up. And throw a housewarming party! Get some real noise in there.”
“We’ll see,” you say. The idea of letting people you work with know where you live is frankly upsetting. And so is this conversation, honestly. You don’t know where the frustration’s coming from, but you’ve got to get off the phone. “I have to go. Phantom’s eating something and I need to fish it out. Love you.”
“Love y-”
You end the call and drop your phone screen-down on the table. The frustration you felt before is ebbing already, and with it comes relief – and confusion. You know you’ve got a bit of a temper, but you never let it out on friends, and you keep it hidden at work. Even at home you’re careful. You got Phantom from a rescue, and too much banging around or sharp words stresses her out. So why did you get so close there? Is the fairytale thing really that upsetting? Were you really that pissed at the idea of letting someone else in your house? Why?
Because it’s yours. It’s your place, where you don’t have to make excuses for anything you’re doing, where you can do whatever you want. God knows you worked hard to be able to have this place. You’re going to enjoy it the way you want to enjoy it. Nobody else gets a say.
The weird mood clings to you through the afternoon and into the evening. Of course it’s a Sunday, which means you’ve burned through the last of your weekend being mad at a friend over nothing. You could keep moping, or you could try to get out of it. You pick door number two and head out to the back porch with Phantom.
You didn’t pay much attention to the yard when you bought the house. You were more interested in the bigger stuff, like making sure it wasn’t haunted or cursed. But the yard is – nice. Or it will be nice, once you get your shit together and start pulling weeds. You got rid of anything that might make Phantom sick, but you’ve let everything else run wild, and the blackberry bushes along the border to the wetlands grow so high you can’t even see the fence. You did check and make sure there was a fence, of course. Phantom is pretty docile, but it’s hard to trust the judgment of a dog who chews on her own feet and sleeps upside down.
She looks like she’s having fun, though. She’s doing that thing dogs do, where they clearly want to take off at high speed but can’t decide which direction to go. Maybe you should help her out. You pick up her ball out of her toybox and wave it to get her attention. “Come on, Phantom! Go get it! Get your ball!”
She starts running before you’ve even thrown it, and you call her back, laughing. “Come here, you. I’ve still got it. Wait –”
She prances in place, ears pricked and tail wagging. “Wait – okay, go! Go get it!”
You chuck the ball and she takes off after it at full speed, catching it on the run and depositing it back at your feet covered in grass and slime. You remind yourself that slime is part of having a dog. You pick it up and throw it again, and again. On the third throw, Phantom stops mid-chase and freezes in the middle of the yard.
You’ve never seen her do that before. “Phantom,” you say, but she doesn’t turn. “Phantom, leave it. Come here.”
She doesn’t move. She whines, cowers, wiggles a few steps backwards – and then the biggest coyote you’ve ever seen springs out of the darkness, jaws wide open and ready to close on Phantom’s throat.
Phantom turns and bolts, but she’s not fast enough. Its jaws close on her hind leg and she howls. “No,” you shout, your voice somehow strident and shrill at the same time. You pick up the nearest thing you can find – your phone, totally useless – and bounce it off the coyote’s head. It snarls and lets go of Phantom, who limps back to your side, making the worst sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. You can’t help but try to calm her, even as the coyote prowls closer, even as you watch your dog’s blood drip from its teeth. “Sweet baby. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
The coyote’s going to bite you. You’re going to live with that. But while it’s biting you, you can hurt it as much as possible. You’re bigger. You have body weight and hands and a dog you have to protect, and so what if the fucker looks absolutely rabid? There’s a shot for that. They can probably give it to you at the emergency vet when you take Phantom in. The coyote sinks into a crouch, preparing to lunge. You get your feet under you and try to calm the racing of your heart. The coyote snarls, leaps, and –
And. You don’t know how to process what you’re seeing, so you’re stuck on and. And the coyote is poised in midair, thrashing and snarling at something that’s holding it in place with all four of its paws off the ground. And it stays suspended there just long enough for you to blink a few times, for you to realize that what you’re looking at is real. And then its neck breaks with a hideous snap, so hard that its head is nearly torn off, and its body drops to the ground at your feet.
You stagger back, almost tripping on Phantom – and then you scoop her up in your arms, even though she’s not anywhere close to being carryable long-term. It’s the only way to be safe as you back up the porch stairs, as you both collapse just in front of the back door. Something just happened. Your dog’s leg is bleeding and your heart is pounding and something just happened. What was it?
Something broke the coyote’s neck. That didn’t just happen on its own. Something killed the coyote, fast and brutal but not fast enough that you didn’t see fear flash in its eyes when it realized there was no way out. It wasn’t another animal that did that, and there was nobody in your yard but you. This isn’t the kind of thing that happens when you move into a nice, normal house. This is the kind of thing that happens when your house is haunted. And whatever’s haunting your house can snap necks with its bare hands.
But not your neck, you realize. Not your neck, and not Phantom’s. Whatever’s haunting your house can kill things, but it hasn’t killed you or your dog, in spite of having all kinds of opportunities to do so. In fact, this is the first time anything haunted has happened in your house at all, and it paid off for you, big-time. Maybe whatever’s in your house is –
Friendly is not a word you’re going to use when there’s a sort of mutilated, completely dead body in your yard. But you think you can safely call whatever it is ‘not hostile’, at least not to you. And if it’s not being hostile to you, you should be friendly in response. “I don’t know who did that,” you say to your empty yard. “But whoever it was, thank you.”
You don’t wait for a response. Your dog is hurt, and you have to get her to the vet, and for the rest of the night you don’t think about what happened at all. But the next morning, when you go out to chuck the dead coyote over the fence and patch up whatever hole it got in through, the coyote is gone. The only evidence that anything happened at all are a few drops of Phantom’s blood dried on the ground, and a spot of dry, dead grass that was definitely alive last night.
There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it, and when you talked to the previous owner, it’s not like he didn’t warn you. But what he warned you about isn’t quite what’s happening to you. The previous owner, a perfectly nice guy named Shirakumo, told you that he spent his entire three weeks here feeling like he was under a microscope. Like it was trying to make up its mind about me, he said. I decided I didn’t want to be here when it figured it out.
You’re pretty sure whatever’s in the house has made up its mind about you. At least enough to decide that between you and the coyote, it would rather keep you around. So unlike Shirakumo, you don’t feel like you’re being watched. You just feel like you’re not alone.
It’s a weird distinction, but it’s undeniably there. There’s something in here with you, something unseen, and if it was watching you, you’d know. It isn’t watching you. It’s doing whatever things it does, and you’re doing the kind of things you do, just coexisting side by side in your new house. It’s there when you leave and it’s there when you come home, just like Phantom is, and Phantom doesn’t seem to mind it. More than a few times, you’ve caught her play-bowing and wagging her tail at empty space. If she was nervous about it, you’d be nervous, too – but dogs always know when a house is haunted in horror movies, and Phantom’s not acting scared. But your house is still haunted. Maybe it’s just not haunted like that.
You tell yourself to just live with it, but it starts getting weird after a little while. If someone was here in person, you’d talk to them, include them in the silly questions you ask Phantom about whether the two of you should get takeout for dinner instead of cooking and whether or not she is in fact the bestest girl in the whole wide world. Maybe the thing in the house is waiting for you to talk to it, and getting upset that you’re not. This is a good time for you to remind yourself, like you do every so often, that the thing in your house isn’t friendly just because it’s not hostile to you, and it can still snap necks with its bare hands. It’s in your best interest to keep it – not hostile.
You keep telling yourself to talk to it, and you keep chickening out for a whole week and a half. Then you’re in the middle of emptying the dishwasher and hit your head on an open cabinet door hard enough that you see stars. Then you stumble backwards and land flat on your ass on the kitchen tiles. “Fuck,” you say, with feeling, and Phantom comes running. “Sorry, sweetie. I’m fine. I’m just a dumbass.”
You’re conscious of the thing in your house, of the fact that it’s here, just like always. It’s not watching you, but if it was, what would it say about this little scene? A response flies into your head, and you say it before you can think of whether or not it’s the smart thing to do. “Yeah, keep laughing. The first time this happens to you I’m going to laugh my ass off.”
There’s no response, but you weren’t expecting one. You should probably have made your opening statement to the ghost a little friendlier. But your neck hasn’t snapped yet, so you pick yourself up off the floor, close the cabinet so you won’t hit your head again and kick off round two of this embarrassment, and get back to work.
Attempt one on talking to the ghost was a failure, but you have a rule about trying things at least three times before you give up, so you try again. This time you come home from work, greet Phantom like always, and then slowly, deliberately turn to face the totally empty patch of air in the hallway. “Hi,” you say. “I’m home.”
Nothing then, either, and if you’d started the sentence with “honey” instead of “hi” you’d have sounded exactly like your dad. You’ve always thought that the way characters in movies deal with their haunted houses is cringe. Yours is a different kind of cringe. Possibly a worse kind of cringe. But when you turn away from the empty air, your neck stays unbroken, and that sense of company, of presence, doesn’t fade. If nothing else, you’re not pissing it off.
To be clear, you don’t talk to your house all the time. You don’t feel like talking all the time. But when you do, you start speaking out loud, and soon it becomes a habit. It might be an embarrassing habit, but it’s not the worst thing in the world. And talking to it instead of tiptoeing around it makes you feel a little better about the situation. Less like you’re being haunted. More like you’re at home.
Your coworkers find out that you moved after two months. You’re not sure how, because you definitely didn’t tell them, but you did have to tell HR to start sending your pay stubs to a new address. Somebody there must have spilled the beans, and as pissed as you are, there’s nothing you can do about it now. Just like there’s nothing you can do about the fact that half your coworkers have invited themselves over for an impromptu housewarming party. Tonight.
“This is stupid,” you complain as you wipe down every flat surface on the first floor, trying to get as much of the ever-present dust up as possible. “I see them enough at work. The whole point of working is so I can afford to spend time not at work.”
Phantom huffs a little bit. She’s mostly friendly, but big groups bother her, especially big groups with too many loud guys. “I would never just invite myself over to someone’s house,” you continue. Back in the day you’d have called a friend to complain. Now you just do it out loud. “How the hell am I going to get them to leave? They’re not going to want to leave. This place is perfect.”
You pause for a second, transfixed with horror at the idea of having to kick your coworkers out. “This sucks. Think it’s too l ate for me to fake my own death?” As soon as you say that, you wish you hadn’t. You don’t want the thing in your house to offer to help. “I can’t do that. If I don’t have a job, I don’t have a mortgage payment, and I need a mortgage payment so I can keep my house.”
You finish dusting, then dig out a baby gate from when Phantom was still potty-training and prop it across the stairs. You don’t want anybody thinking it’s okay to go upstairs. The doorbell rings just as you’re straightening up. Coworkers. You grit your teeth, then paste on a smile and go to open the front door. “Hi. Go ahead and invite yourselves in.”
If you’re going to be fair to your coworkers – and you feel like you have to be, because otherwise you might kill them and wind up with a whole bunch of ghosts haunting your house – not all of them are bad. They don’t have to be bad for you to not want them in your house. Most of them just have irritating habits, like clearing their throats on every other word or laughing too loudly at their own bad jokes. There’s only one or two you really don’t like – they pick on your clothes and the way you do your hair, or steal tea bags from the secret stash you keep in your filing cabinet. Both of them are here, and their presence puts you in an even worse mood than you already were.
The only person you’d actually hang out with after work is Mr. Yagi, but he’s your direct supervisor and also sort of old, which means you can’t be friends with him. He’s here, too, and he seems like he’s trying to rein everybody in. You see him stop one of your coworkers from hopping the baby gate and going upstairs and give him a grateful look. He smiles back. Then he startles, coughs into his handkerchief, and stumbles back against the wall.
You start towards him, concerned, but midway there someone slings an arm around your shoulders and stops you in your tracks. “Honey,” Nakayama slurs, flopping most of her weight onto you, “your house’s vibes are fuck awful.”
You didn’t provide alcohol, but it looks like your coworkers brought their own. You shrug her arm off. “Wow. I’m so glad I asked your opinion when I asked you to come over.”
“You didn’t ask,” Nakayama says, confused. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for the penny to drop. It doesn’t drop. Instead a full-body shiver overtakes her, and she wraps her arms around herself like she’s shielding her body from something or trying to keep warm. “Don’t you feel that? It’s – male – male-eh –”
She thinks your ghost is a man. You’re not even sure your ghost is a ghost. “Malevolent,” she says finally. Oh. “It doesn’t want me here.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t want you here,” you say, and Nakayama laughs. She thinks you’re joking. Mr. Yagi, who’s snuck up alongside you, knows you aren’t. “If the vibes in here are so bad, go check out the back porch. I fixed the hole in the fence, so there shouldn’t be any more coyotes.”
“Coyotes?” Mr. Yagi asks worriedly as Nakayama wanders off through the house. “Is that how Phantom was hurt?”
“Yeah.” You were worried the incident would put Phantom off the backyard, but she loves it just as much as ever. You have a feeling that’s got something to do with the thing in the house. “Like I said, I fixed the hole. What do you think of the house?”
You haven’t asked that question of anybody else, but Mr. Yagi’s opinion is one you’re interested in. “It’s quite – nice,” he says. “Very – lively.”
The pauses in his speech make you wonder if he’s holding in a coughing fit. He has some kind of lung illness. You’re not sure what it is. “Are you okay?”
“Your house.” Mr. Yagi coughs. “I can see why you purchased it. I can see that you feel comfortable and at home here. And at the same time, I understand Miss Nakayama’s use of the word “malevolent”. Something does not want us here.”
“Maybe it’s just me. I didn’t exactly invite people over.”
“I’m very familiar with your demeanor when dealing with a situation you don’t like,” Mr. Yagi says, and chuckles. He sobers up a few seconds later. “This darkness is orders beyond what you could emit. I don’t know how you live with it. It could drive a person mad.”
If this was somebody else, you’d gaslight the hell out of them. But you like Mr. Yagi, and liking him makes you honest. “I talked to people who’ve owned this place before. They said they felt like you do, or like they’re being watched. But I’ve never felt like that here. Watched over, maybe.”
“Watched over?”
You can’t tell him about the coyote. You just – can’t. “Maybe I’m imagining it and I just like the quiet. I believe you about the vibes. I just don’t feel them.”
“I see,” Mr. Yagi says. He looks troubled. You don’t want him to look like that. You don’t want to be worried about this. “Perhaps it’s just an old man’s musings, my dear. You have a lovely home. You should enjoy it.”
There’s a shriek from outside, and you barely manage to mumble an apology to Mr. Yagi before running to investigate. One of your coworkers is freaking out on the back porch, and frantically stubbing out a cigarette in the bargain. You’ve been patient, but the sight of the cigarette pushes you over the edge. “I thought I told you not to smoke here!”
“There was a thing!” Todoroki gestures frantically towards the other end of the porch. “I saw it. Right there. In the smoke –”
“Use your words,” you say. Something’s uncurling in the pit of your stomach, something you’re not all that eager to put a name on. “What did you see in the smoke of the cigarette you weren’t supposed to light up on my back porch?”
“A hand,” Todoroki says. “I saw a hand reaching for me.”
“Maybe it’s your guilty conscience,” you say. Todoroki is close enough that you can smell alcohol mixed in with the smoke on his breath. “Coming after you for inviting yourself to my house and breaking my rules.”
“Your rules are a little strict.” Nakayama slings her arm around your shoulders again. “Don’t you think?”
“No,” you say, sharper than you should be. “I think you don’t know how to listen!”
“Easy there.” Mr. Yagi slides into the conversation sideways. “Todoroki, our hostess did request no smoking. Very politely. And Nakayama, I’m sure you know that hosting an event can be stressful! Let’s go inside and give our hostess a moment to herself, all right?”
Mr. Yagi is hard to say no to, and Todoroki is eager to get off the porch anyway. Nakayama follows him in, and then you’re alone, seething with an emotion you’re finally forced to name: Jealousy. “Come on,” you say out loud, once you’re sure no one else could possibly be listening. “Of all the people you could show yourself to, you picked him?”
There’s no answer, of course. There never is, and after a while, you’ve got no choice but to go back inside and deal with all your mostly-unwanted guests. The bad vibes are infecting the rest of the party, and Todoroki isn’t being shy about whatever he thinks he saw on the porch. Pretty soon everyone is ready to leave. You think Mr. Yagi will be out the door along with everybody else at high speed, but instead he gathers everybody just inside the door for a group picture. “To commemorate the evening,” he says, but you get the sense he’s not telling the truth. Not all of it, anyway. “Everyone smile!”
Everybody smiles, you included – and then everybody scatters, including a few who are probably too tipsy to be driving. You chase after them, make sure everybody who’s drunk is riding home rather than driving themselves, and slink back inside, tired and frustrated. Your house is messier than you like it, your boss thinks you’re living in some kind of hell dimension, and the thing in your house showed itself to one of your dumbass coworkers and not to you. This evening has sucked.
Your phone pings with a message from Mr. Yagi. He’s texted you the photo he took of the group without comment, and when you see it, you see instantly why he wanted a picture in the first place. There are your coworkers, smiling with varying degrees of discomfort. There’s you, smiling because you’ll have the house to yourself again soon. And there’s the shapeless shadow, defying the light beaming directly onto it, hovering just over your shoulder.
There’s something in your house. You know that now for sure. It shows up as a shadow in pictures, but Todoroki saw it as a hand. Other people feel very differently about it than you do – or it makes them feel differently about it than you do. That’s the only explanation you can think of for why every person who’s set foot in the house has had a borderline allergic reaction to it, except you. There’s nothing special about you. For whatever reason, the thing in the house hates you less than it hates everybody else. Why? And why, if it hates you less than everybody else, did it show itself to Todoroki instead of you?
You’ve been thinking about it for a week. You’re thinking about it so hard that you’ve fucked up installing your front porch swing twice, and so hard that you don’t hear a kid calling out to you from the sidewalk. “Hey! Hey, you! Are you the new neighbor?”
The question snaps you out of your fog. You look up and find a girl who looks like she’s about twelve hovering at the end of the path leading up to your door, taking tentative steps over and then pulling her foot back. She’s holding a foil-covered plate in her hands. Behind her there’s an older guy, maybe in his late teens or early twenties. You’re older than him, but not by much. “Hi,” he says awkwardly. “I told Himiko not to shout. But shouting is so fun!”
His demeanor shifted completely between the first sentence and the second. “You’re Himiko,” you say to the girl, and she grins. Even from this distance, you can see that her teeth are oddly sharp. You turn to the older guy. “And you are?”
“This is my big brother Jin!” Himiko gives him a glowing look, then turns her attention back to you. “Now you tell me your name! That’s what people do!”
“It sure is,” you say, bewildered, and you make your introduction. Then you feel weird shouting at them from the porch, so you make your way down to the edge of the yard, still holding a screwdriver. “So you all are my neighbors?”
“Yes! The pink house just that way!” Himiko points it out. “We live there with Jin’s mom and his brothers and sisters!”
“Sorry it took us so long to introduce ourselves,” Jin says. Then that demeanor switch happens again. “We didn’t want to grace you with our presence until we were sure you wouldn’t cut and run!”
“Everybody leaves,” Himiko says, swinging on your front gate. “We made you cookies to say hi!”
“They’re the best cookies in the world,” Jin says, and Himiko sneaks in past the gate. “Don’t eat them. She still doesn’t know how taste buds work.”
That might be the weirdest thing they’ve said to you so far. “Oh.”
“Himiko, come back,” Jin calls, looking past you. “They didn’t invite us in.”
“I know! But – ooh.” Himiko breaks off midsentence with a shiver. Not the same kind of shiver as you saw from Nakayama when she was here, like it’s too cold – the kind you’d do if a spider walked across the back of your neck. “I just want to meet you! Jeez, calm down!”
“I’m calm,” you say.
“She doesn’t mean you,” Jin says, and a chill runs down your spine. “Himiko, come back!”
Himiko skips down the path back to the gate and steps through. “You should come visit us at our house,” she announces. “He doesn’t want us here.”
He. “What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t like to share,” Himiko says. She laughs, high and almost shrill. “I don’t need more people. I have as many people as I want! I have Jin and Jin’s mom and Jin’s sister and Jin’s brother –”
She’s not talking to you. She’s looking back at the house. “Who’s he?” you ask, and she smiles at you. “I’m not joking. I really want to know.”
“You know,” Himiko says. “Or you will, anyway. You’re his.”
“Excuse me?” Something inside you rebels at the thought. “It’s my house.”
“Yeah,” Jin agrees. Finally – a voice of reason. Or not, because what he says next makes everything worse. “You wouldn’t have kept it if he hadn’t let you.”
Himiko nods importantly, still smiling. Then she looks at you, and – “Um, did you just –”
“Just what?” Himiko asks, but you shake your head. There’s no way you saw what you think you saw. There’s no way her pupils closed vertically, almost disappearing, and opened again – like a blink, but not a blink, because eyes aren’t supposed to do that. “Come visit us, then! Everybody in the neighborhood wants to meet you!”
She pushes the plate of cookies into your hands and goes skipping off down the sidewalk. Jin gives an apologetic shrug, followed by a hyperenthusiastic wave goodbye, and follows her, leaving you standing just inside your front gate with a plate of cookies you’re now eighty percent sure are poisoned and even less of an idea about what’s going on than you had before. You decide, with a skill at compartmentalization that you’ve been honing since you moved in, to table it until you’ve set up your porch swing.
But after the swing’s up, you’re hungry. So hungry, in fact, that you pry up the foil on the plate and take a look at the cookies Jin and Himiko brought over. They look suspect. So suspect that you wouldn’t risk eating them unless you were starving, and even then you might try chewing off your own arm first. It’s too bad. You really could have gone for a cookie right about now.
But you’re an adult, and you have your own house, and a decent amount of ingredients in your pantry. Maybe cookies aren’t as out of reach as you thought they were.
One quick shower later, you’re in the kitchen, measuring out ingredients for your favorite cookie recipe. Back in the day you’d play music, or call somebody. Now you either talk to Phantom, talk to the thing in the house, or both. But Phantom is napping on the tiles on the front hall – her favorite spot on hot days, even though you have air conditioning and you like to use it. That’s a good thing. You and the thing in your house need to have a talk.
“You’ve got an attitude problem, huh?” Your opening lines with the thing in your house are never as polite as they probably should be. “I’m fine with you scaring my coworkers. I’m pretty sure I thanked you for that one. But those were my neighbors. I have to live with them. Or near them. And they seemed – nice.”
It gets quiet after that. Sometimes you can use the silence to convince yourself that the ghost is answering, just not in a way you’re able to hear. Sometimes you even imagine what the ghost is saying. Today is one of those days. “Okay, fine. They were weird. I still have to live with them.” But you have to live with the ghost, too, and the ghost apparently has some weird ideas about what’s going on here. “And while we’re talking about it, what’s this possessive shit? You think you own me? You’ve talked more to my twelve-year-old neighbor than you have to me, so you’ve got a lot of nerve talking about me like I belong to you.”
You’ve got no idea what the ghost would say in response to that, and you have to get out your dry ingredients. You head to the pantry and dig out what’s left of your flour, noting that you’ve got a new bag waiting, and go back to the counter. Except something happens to you midway there. You step into a cold spot, colder than anything you’ve ever felt in your life, and your hands go nerveless and numb like you’ve been flash-frozen. The bag of flour drops from your hands and splits open on the floor, letting up a puff of flour that climbs high into the air like a mushroom cloud. Higher than it should. But that’s not what you’re looking at. You’re looking at the two clean spots on the flour-coated floor, directly in front of you. Two clean spots in the shape of a pair of feet.
They’re not children’s footprints. Whatever’s in your house isn’t a child like Himiko – it’s an adult, like you, and it’s standing really close to you. Your eyes are drawn almost inexorably upwards through the already-dissipating cloud of flour. You’re looking too late. You almost miss it. But before the flour falls completely back to the floor, you see the outline of a torso, the slope of a shoulder. The length of an arm. And the shape of one hand, thumb and forefinger poised to flick against your forehead.
You react before you can think about it. “What are you, twelve?” You wave your hand through the air, trying to dissipate the rest of the cloud, resolutely ignoring the way you obliterate the shoulder, the torso. “Learn some manners.”
The cloud vanishes, and the figure with it. You could almost believe it had never happened at all, except for the pair of clean footprints on your otherwise flour-covered floor.
Shigaraki NSFW Headcanons
Cause he makes me so insatiabley horny
Warning: nsfw obviously
This is the horniest fucker to ever exist, but he is a virgin until you
like it's bad, he's watched so much porn , he genuinely had an addiction
so when you two start getting sexual, expect a couple things
1. he doesn't last very long. however, he does regain his stamina pretty quickly so you can get back at it pretty soon.
2. he has no experience, so he's gonna try and use the weird porn he's watched as a basis - which he realizes very soon does not work
so after a few times of him kinda embarrassing himself, he goes full 180 and becomes a nervous mess
so for a while, you'll have to be in control. maybe not physically unless you want to be, but you'll have to guide him and very much show him exactly what he's supposed to do
consider: he loves you. yes he's a horny fuck, but he's also scared of people coming close to him, he's scared of vulnerability, and this feels very vulnerable. so he trusts you, and he cares about you more than anything. he really wouldn't have sex with someone unless he genuinely cared about them
meaning: he wants to make you happy. he wants you to think he's doing a good job and for you to feel fucking amazing
so he takes everything you say very seriously, and once he gets more comfortable your sex life gets amazingly better
because beyond what youve told him you like, he pays attention to all the little noises and faces and body reactions so he knows what you like exactly and he takes advantage of that in every way
he slowly becomes more and more dominant, if you're dominant you'll probably fight for it often, but if you're submissive he happily takes control
he doesn't like not being in control, but he allowed it because he knew that it'd benefit the both of you, so now he wants to be completely in control to make up for it
his favorite position is probably doggy, but in front of a mirror. Tomura loves ass, he loves seeing your ass and being able to grab at it and spank it (and maybe play with the hole if he's not already in that one) but he also loves to see your face, to see you fall apart as he fucks you, so he'll grab your hair and force you to watch yourself in the mirror
he spends most of his time around the league, which means you do too. you're basically attached to his hip at all times, and tomura likes to show you off. which also means he loves making you scream his name all night so everyone knows what's going on
he'd also be very tempted to fuck you in front of everyone - it probably stems from being told he's ugly and scary looking his whole life but he's fucking someone as hot as you so he has to rub it in everyone's faces
during a meeting, where you know he has a little makeshift throne, he's definitely had his cock buried in you while you sit on his lap, squirming around trying to get any stimulation you can, him lazily thrusting into you every now and then
his ability to regain stamina quick only gets worse once he goes through his whole buff transformation, you're getting railed for literal hours
he loves overstimulating you, he wants you to beg to cum and tell him it's too much and that you're gonna die if he doesnt stop, but keep letting him fuck you
at first, the thought of toys made him kinda insecure, but after impulsively buying you a dildo he loves it. whether it's shoving it in both of your holes, or him fucking your mouth while you fuck yourself with it, he thinks it's so hot
his wallpaper is definitely a nude
he likes superiority kinks, probably not daddy, but being called Master, or Sir, he gets so hard
his dick is long too, like 8 inches, but it's a little thin. he has scrawny man dick syndrome. it does get a little thicker when he gets buffer though
hes a sadist, so he'll put you through as much pain and humiliation as you can handle. he'll spank your ass red, yank your hair so hard you think he'll rip it out, bite you till you bleed, hell he'll even pull your panties over your head while he fucks you just to humiliate you (side note- he definitely has a wedgie kink)
if you're more vanilla (no shame), then he'll respect that. again, he loves you and it's more so about you, so he'd keep his fantasies to himself.
✮ Personal assistence ✮
I shall present to you a new down to core kinky oneshot: Tomura Shigaraki x Bunny!Reader
TW: NSFW, she/her pronouns, p in v sex, praise, degradation, caught while having sex
✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮
This job was a step into a better life with better salary. Even though you were just an assistant. The job was quite simple, but hectic. After two months, you were doing everything for your boss… for the great commander of the Paranormal Liberation Front. Re Destro was really happy about your work and he applied you to an even better position. The personal assistant of Tomura Shigaraki. Your work got even more hectic and you practically became Shigaraki’s shadow. And if you accidentally had some free time, you still followed Shigaraki like a puppy. A puppy… with white rabbit ears and a small white rabbit tail. Such a perfect assistant!
First weeks in the new position were… awkward. Your office was in his. You just had a small desk with a computer, calendar and a phone. You just sat all day by the desk and arranged his schedule to his likings. That meant changing his schedule all the time, because he was lazy and then making excuses and calling everyone from his meetings. But after quite a lot of days you started to know each other’s presence. You memorized his favorite meals and his favorite coffee. And he stopped being so whiny, so you had less work with his schedules. Things were getting better. You followed him to every meeting taking notes of the important things and every time you were walking in the hallway, his big hand rested on your back. Always. Every walk with him by the hall. When you sat by your desk and arranged a new meeting for him, he always went to you after the call and looked at his schedule, while slightly holding your thigh. When you got him coffee, he always slightly stroked your ass and the back of your thighs and asked about his next task.
These slight touches slowly became grasps and firm holds. Your whole day routine changed to be in more contact with him. “Good morning sir.” you chirped and put his coffee in his favorite place. “Thank you darling.” He mused and slapped your ass. “What are we dealing with today?” “Just a meeting with the league members at 2 pm. That’s all for today.” You smiled and felt his hand traveling under your short skirt and pinching one of your cheeks. You squealed and jumped a little, your tail twitching. “You forget something.” Tomura said firmly. “T-that’s all for today… sir.” You mumbled and he grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap. “Such a good girl.” He mused and your ears lowered a little. Praising was always your weak spot. His hand wandered from your ass to your knee and back. He squished your thighs and looked at some documents. “Maybe we should try something new.” He looked at you. Hunger and lust in his eyes and a raging problem in his tight pants. You gulped. One of his hands trailed to your face, stroking your cheek and stroking your lips with his thumb. “I always wondered how your cute and little mouth would feel on my cock. Get to work darling. So you can go back to your work as soon as you can.” He smiled at you, his eyes almost hypnotizing you. “Y-yes sir.” You whispered and got onto your knees under his desk. You always liked him… admired him, his power. Your soul always screamed when he touched you. Always wanting more. Your hands gently unzipped his pants, your ears lowering to your head and your tail twitching with excitement. You pulled down his pants and boxers to reveal his raging boner. It was… Thicker than you expected. He had beautiful veins on his full length and his scent… Oh god. It was even more hypnotizing than his eyes. And his heavy balls full to their brim ready for release. You gently licked his cock and then took him in your mouth. “Mm. I have my new favorite sight.” He grinned and watched as your head bobbed on his dick. From this perfect state startled Shigaraki a knock on the door. “Come in.” He said while smiling at your surprised look and gesturing you to keep up. Another assistant walked inside. “W-where is your assistant?” On Tomura’s face appeared a shit eating grin. “She went on a quick break. What is it?” “We got new information about heroes’ patrol shifts.” “Great. Put them on her desk.” He mumbled and after a while you heard the door closing. You met his ruby eyes and smiled. He chuckled and relaxed. His hand stroked your ears and grabbed your hair. He started guiding your head to his favorite rhythm, making you gag. Such a beautiful sound and view. After this joyful moment you felt him tense up. His hand pulled you into his groin, his pubic hair tickling you. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt his cock squirting semen into your throat, making you gag even more. He loosened his grip and you pulled away gulping for air. “I have a new daily task for you.” He grinned. “I’m glad sir.” You smiled.
After this encounter, every day was wilder. Your throat was sore everyday, but it was worth it. But this time Tomura decided to push this encounter into something even more. You finally had a free afternoon and you don’t even know how it happened. The sound of wet skin slapping echoed through his office room. You laid on your clean desk, his hands firmly holding your hips. The scent of making out masked your senses and his grunts were the only thing you could hear. You grabbed his tie and lowered him to you kissing his lips. Tomura smiled. “Such a good assistant… ugh… We need to do this more. Imagine me bending you over. Fucking you in front of a mirror. Or in front of the windows. Or in the meeting rooms.” Your ears twitched. “Oh, you would like that? Yeah? My cute slut would like that?” He grinned and kissed your nipples. You mewled and your back arched. All of this was too much for you. The knot in your abdomen finally snapped and you slightly squirted on his shirt. “Oh fuck.” He mumbled and admired your exhausted body. He grabbed your ass firmly and sped up. He huffed, towering above you. He kissed you feverishly and came right inside your cunt. He mused happily and slowed down. He picked up the phone and gave it to you. “Call and get me a new shirt.” You smiled and dialed the phone. After a while, someone knocked on the door. You slowly got up leaving his embrace and his softening cock. You arranged your clothes and picked up his clothes. “Here sir.” You smiled and gave him the shirt.
Since then you were fucking like rabbits. That fits you, right? You were fucking everywhere you could, missing some appointments and dealing with it later. You sat on his lap cockwarming him, while he thought about his new plans. Sometimes he fucked you only to torture you by making you call and arrange meetings while your session. The only one who knew about your little affair was Schuichi. You once stayed after your shift, only for a make out session. You ended up stuck in a room with cleaning products. It was small and cramped, but you still fit in there. You were pushed against the wall and your legs were around his waist. He fucked you up the wall not wanting to stop. “I… Got you something.” He huffed and kissed your neck. “What is it sir?” You smiled at him. And then you felt it. A fabric around your neck. You looked at him. “It fits you well.” You take it in your hands and look at it. It was white collar with a name sewn on it. It said: “Bunny”. You smiled. “Thank you so much.” I beamed and kissed him passionately. Your faces were met with a big stream of light. Schuichi stood by the opened door looking flabbergasted with an open mouth. You felt your cheek heat up and you hid your face in Tomura’s chest. “I just wanted… to get the new markers.” Schuichi mumbled and Tomura handed them to him and closed the door back. Then he bursted laughing and you chuckled. You never noticed why Schuichi needed these markers. Maybe for one of these meeting rooms?
Time flew by and you started living with him. Assisting him every minute of his life. Your relationship was now official and the league was happy for Tomura. You snuggled into him sitting with the league on the couch on a movie night. Tomura smiled and toyed with your bunny tail. You blushed and cuddled into him. He lowered to you and whispered into your ear.
“I can’t wait for the night to breed your tummy to the brim.”
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A/n: Thank you so much for reading this! I stitched this up just from my kinky thoughts from lonely nights. And here is a little secret! I'm planning another oneshot from an office AU, where reader is the boss and Tomura is a hardworking employee in a need of a reward!
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18+, minor don't interact with the 18+ contentTomura shigaraki's biggest simpArtist, writter
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