FROM THE INSIDE W Shigaraki

Reblog to kiss sun and moon fnaf !!

As a french i am shocked

I know there are like 100 kinds BUT of the most common types

❤️👀take a look

The First Taste

Tomura has his first sexual encounter. Poor touch starved baby doesn’t last long, at all. Will reader be forgiving and encouraging and let him try again, is he to embarressed, will he end up lasting or does he release to early again.

Thank you for 600 followers😭🥳🥳💥💜💫💋 Please please like, comment and reblog. It is very appreciated. I will love you. See my Masterlist for other Fics

WARNING SMUT 18+ ONLY THERE IS SEX HERE

FLUFF ANGST SOFT SHIGGY

SHIGARAKI X FEMALE READER

WORDS–4615 (This came out twice as long as it was suppose to be😥😳 sorry)

Shigaraki was not good with feelings or how to express them. He also was not good with people and regular everyday  interactions. His emotions, which were mainly anger and annoyance, just kinda exploded out of him. He hated pretty much everything and everyone, he just wanted to destroy the society that failed him. 

Then you came along. With your beautiful eyes, bright smile and that body of yours. These feelings were new to him. His heart beat faster, his face would heat up, pulse quickened. 

Obviously he knew he was attracted to you, well that was an understatement, he had become obsessed. You were always on his mind, your image permanently imprinted in his brain. He found himself constantly thinking about what your lips tasted like. What it would be like to have his arms around your waist, to snuggle his face into the crook of your neck. To have you underneath him as he had his way with you. 

Contrary to population belief he knew what sex was, he wasn’t stupid. 

He was indeed a regular guy, a very horny one at that. He masturbated on the regular, well more than regular, his mind was on sex a lot. He watched porn daily, this is the only sex education he had, but he had resigned himself to being alone. 

The need for physical contact was getting to him a lot lately. He craved it. Wanted it. The thought of your hands on him, around him. He couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be touched. 

He longed to caress your soft flawless skin. To feel your fingertips travel across his chest, your arms encircling his waist as you rest your head against him. To lay down next to you and feel your warmth. He would get lost in his fantasies of you. Imagining you cuddling up to him, calling him babe or some other cute nickname as he trailed kisses across your neck. Whispering dirty words in your ear, a promise of all the naughty things to come. 

The problem was he didn’t know how to go about it. 

Walking back to the hideout Tomura’s mind wandered,picturing what life with you would be like. To come home and have you waiting for him, greeting him with a hug and kiss. He was tired of being lonely, he longed for companionship and love. Each passing day the desire for you grew. His craving for you was consuming him.

Occasionally he would try to start a conversation, but he just was not good at it, and sadly you really didn’t seem interested in him. He was so very awkward, and since you appeared in his life he had become very self conscious about it, hell about everything. Thinking about you stirred up so many emotions, he was not used to caring about someone, little lone wanting them. 

As he walked into the hideout he noticed it was empty except for you, sitting alone on the couch, reading some book. His heart beating in his chest like a drum. He was alone with you. Should he try, what if you rejected him, told him to fuck off, called him a creep.

He really didn’t even know how to begin to flirt, but he had to give it a try, he had to know if he had a chance in hell with you. So he decided this was it, this was his chance, so he took a spot next to you, right next to you actually, even though there were plenty of places to sit. Hell he didn’t even sit at the other end of the couch. He literally sat right next to you, his leg rubbing against yours as he nervously bounced it up and down. 

Keep reading

My heart is breaking in a million pieces because Tomura thinks he can destroy the world and go back to the League, but he doesn't know that most of them are either dead or terribly hurt.

He doesn't know Twice died because he refused to betray them. Tomura doesn't know that Mr. Compress sacrificed himself to save him, doesn't know about the way that Compress screamed he loved the League as he went down. He has no clue about what AFO did to Spinner in Tomura's name, the way Dabi explained so perfectly to Shouto the LOV and their philosophies because he always paid attention even if he said he didn't, Tomura wasn't there to witness Toga's breakdown over not being able to use the Dabi's flames or his decay even if she loved them so much.

At his absolute worst, even once the worst of his own past is over, the thought of them keeping him going.

He wants to destroy the world for them.

His League of Villains.

They love him so much. He loves them so much.

They can only imagine it, but they. don't. know.

🏮𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 🏮

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑵𝒔𝒇𝒘 | 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒙 | 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 | 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 | 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌 | 𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 | 𝑭𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 | 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒔 𝑫𝑵𝑰

🏮𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐: ❞𝑹𝒆𝒅 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔❞ - 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝑲𝒊𝒅𝒔

𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒌, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚!

𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬: @𝐥𝐥𝐥_𝟏𝟐𝟑_𝐥𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

The pain in your abdomen was killing you, the cramps made you feel so weak that you felt like you could pass out at any moment, you even started to feel like throwing up so the best thing to do for now while the pain medicine took effect was go up to your room and lie down for a moment.

Maybe getting some sleep would help you, most of the time when you slept for a while you woke up without pain so this was the solution to your problem. You lay down carefully on your futon and the moment your head touched your pillow your eyelids started to feel heavy until you slowly drifted off to sleep.

It was almost 10:00 pm and after wandering through the loneliest streets of the entertainment district, the upper sixth decided to return to the house where he lived inside his sister after a successful hunt. His demonic instinct to have killed a few people was wearing off but as soon as he stepped foot on your bedroom window to go inside, it was as if his bloodthirsty switch had been flipped up again.

The veins of his entire body stood out under his skin and in the middle of his bones, his muscles tensed and his mouth began to drool uncontrollably causing his saliva to begin to spill between his teeth up to his chin. Gyutaro smelled blood, and not just any blood. It was yours.

As if he were a wild animal stalking its feeble prey, he sneaked into your room making his footsteps inaudible to you while you were fast asleep. He crept through the shadows and darkness and loomed over you in a dangerous and imposing way trying to search anxiously with his gaze for any bleeding wounds on your body but he found none in plain sight.

He wanted to devour you, take his sickles and stick them into your belly to open your abdomen wide and tear all your organs from their place with his own fingers, taste you and lick every part that contained your blood until he reached the bones and to finally feel that you were becoming one with him... but he wouldn't do that. Throughout his time with you, Gyutaro learned to control his bloodlust, though that didn't take away from the fact that he would do anything to taste you.

He examined your whole body with his gaze, brought his face dangerously close to you and sniffed at you like a bloodhound searching for something underground. Gyutaro went down to your neck, then to your breasts, to your waist and when he went down to your pelvis before continuing with your thighs he stopped. It was as if someone had broken his nose with a blow when he suddenly felt that familiar fragrance burst suddenly and without warning through his nostrils. His curiosity was beyond his ability to reason at this point so he took the skirt of your kimono and lifted it up, exposing your panties. It was at that moment where all that perfume invaded the entire room.

You complained when you felt the cold of the night hitting your legs so you moved alerting Gyutaro. You left your face uncovered to reveal to Gyutaro the intense blush that invaded your entire face. You had been awake for a while before Gyutaro entered your room but upon seeing him go into hunter mode you decided that the most sensible thing to do was probably to keep still until Gyutaro's curious hands made you move in place, looking down. You tried to move your legs and settle on the futon, Gyutaro was your lover but that didn't take away from the fact that it was a bit embarrassing that he was staring at your panties, especially these days.

Gyutaro didn't care, he wanted to reach his goal at any cost but suddenly you quickly sat down and stood up pretending you remembered to do something. This made Gyutaro angry, your embarrassment made you act without thinking, and now your wrist was clamped tightly between his fingers. Gyutaro got on his knees in front of you and with a menacing look he ordered you to stay still so you obeyed him.

His hands took your clothes and a smirk spread across his face as he opened your kimono from under your obi exposing your panties again and that gorgeous scent for him. Brazenly, he reached between your legs and inhaled against your skin making your skin freeze trying to stop him by grabbing his head.

"G-Gyutaro, what are you doing!?" you asked, scared and shy. Very nervous too.

Gyutaro looked up and his lazy, carefree gaze met yours. "It's those days of the month, isn't it?" He asked.

Gyutaro didn't doubt it for another minute, if he kept thinking about the matter you would suspect his intentions and end up moving away from him so he immediately grabbed the edge of your underwear and pulled it down.

"Gyutaro!" You claimed, surprised.

When Gyutaro pulled at your clothing, a small red thread stretched out from your core causing it to end up stuck to your inner thigh. Gyutaro inevitably noticed and finished removing your panties to look at the fresh bloodstain that was dripping onto a small additional piece of cloth. His instinct told him to take it straight to his mouth and that's what he did, having one of the most precious things about you come into contact with his tongue, everything became different. Your blood was like a drug to him, once he tasted you he wanted more and more until your taste was etched on his palate.

Gyutaro put your dirty panties aside and placed both hands on your thighs to squeeze them with some force. He pushed your hands away in a clumsy attempt to cover you, bringing his face ever closer to you.

"Don't you feel bad these days? Let me make you feel better…don't be stupid and be a good girl to me, will you?" He seduced you, with his husky and trembling voice.

You couldn't articulate a response as you felt Gyutaro sink his head between your thighs and caress your entire slit with his long tongue. The only thing you could do was moan in surprise and bring the back of your hand to your mouth trying to hide each of your sounds.

The moment your blood was on Gyutaro's mouth, both of you knew there would be no going back. Gyutaro tightened his grip on your thighs and didn't let go of you. His lips adhered to yours and his mouth began to suck every part of your cunt as he swallowed every last drop. The hot feeling between your legs from Gyutaro's breath and feeling his wet tongue running through each of your corners made you feel more and more wet. You knew this would be a disaster and it embarrassed you so much but if Gyutaro really didn't have a problem with trying then neither did you. Actually, you had also fantasized about this moment before, your boyfriend is a bloodthirsty human-eating demon so he would never refuse to taste yours and even more so in this way so at this moment you could be anything to Gyutaro except disgusting.

Many wet clicks sounded in the room every time Gyutaro sucked on your core, his moans were muffled and his gasps were low and hoarse from deep in his throat. Your legs began to ache from the position you were standing in as well as Gyutaro's strong grip on them so you slowly got comfortable and sat on the floor. You thought it would be a bit awkward to do on the cold hard wood floor but it would be so much easier to clean in the end. You thought so but Gyutaro took you by the hips and placed you on the futon where you were sleeping peacefully a few minutes ago.

Your face was surprised to see his. His gaze fixed on you with passion and desire, instinct pushed him to continue. His face was stained with blood, even a little on the tip of his nose, a perverted smile formed on his mouth showing his reddish teeth as he licked the remains on his lips with his tongue. You looked down at your kimono open below your waist and how a slightly red stain was painting your thighs. This would surely be a disaster.

"G-Gyutaro, not here...I'm gonna stain everything"

Gyutaro looked at you as if this was a challenge. "And you think I care about that?"

He took your thighs again and spread your legs wide, having a beautiful view of your entire glowing core painted red, Gyutaro's mouth watered just looking at you and without waiting another second he plunged  his face again between your legs. Gyutaro didn't just limit himself to licking you, you could feel a slight pressure every time he sucked your blood from the bottom causing your back to arch and you began to move your hips in circles instinctively getting closer to his face.

The warmth of Gyutaro's tongue ran through you with complete freedom, he even took the trouble to lick the small red drops that escaped to your thighs and buttocks because of the position you were in. Your moans made him lose what little composure he had left. Gyutaro separated from you with his face wet and stained again leaving a trail of his saliva on your legs, he took your kimono with both hands and urgently got rid of it to leave you completely naked.

Gyutaro loomed over you, his hunched and intimidating figure enveloping you in his arms, he was about to go straight for your mouth but before he could you moved your face to the side causing Gyutaro's lips to collide with your cheek which clearly annoyed him a bit.

"Don't you wanna taste how delicious you are?" he scoffed.

For now he would let it go because he was actually in a very good mood, otherwise he would have forcefully grabbed your face and forced you to kiss his bloody mouth like he has done a couple of times before when he comes back from the kill. Gyutaro laughed against your skin, your eyes were closed so you couldn't help but jump reflexively when you felt a hot, sticky, wet sensation on your cheek. It was Gyutaro's tongue, which left a reddish stain on your skin.

A familiar sensation settled in your belly, moving toward your cunt at the exact moment Gyutaro lowered one of his hands and inserted his fingers inside you, and as he did, he could feel a warm discharge drenching his fingers, trickling down on the palm of his hand. Your face flushed red and your expression twisted in embarrassment as you felt a considerable amount of blood dripping right onto Gyutaro's hand. Your dripping was inevitable and with each passing second your thighs, your clothes, and the futon beneath the two of you began to tinge more and more red.

Gyutaro was amazed by this glorious moment so he took care of taking your face with one hand staining your cheeks so you could see how he licked the fingers that had been painted by you a few seconds ago. His tongue danced between his fingers making sure to take every drop of blood on his skin and then taste and swallow. He didn't say anything, he just looked at you and gave you daring smiles full of desire.

Gyutaro couldn't wait any longer. He grabbed the top of his pants and pulled them down to release his hard, throbbing dick, just seeing how erect he was made you shudder with pleasure eager to feel him as deep inside you as possible. Gyutaro's hand went straight for his tip to pump himself up a bit causing the blood on his hand to stain his cock and turn his fluid pink. He spread your legs to expose your entire pussy to his view and lined up at your entrance between your aching reddish folds.

He didn't give a shit about all the mess of blood that would be created, Gyutaro clung with both hands on your hips squeezing you tightly and began to move his to enter you with light thrusts that intensified with each impact in your center. His lips were kept parted letting thin threads of pink saliva slip between his sharp teeth while the loud and desperate moans that came from the back of his throat showed you how aroused he was. His mouth covered your entire body as did one of his hands, which left red marks of his painted hands on all of your skin as if he were marking you. Claiming you as his in the most passionate way.

In addition to your and Gyutaro's juices, your period made your pussy even wetter than usual so you could hear a cheeky splash every time Gyutaro pushed deeper and deeper into you. Your moans were carefree and grew louder as you felt Gyutaro's tongue begin to run over your soft skin. He filled your neck with wet kisses, licked and sucked your breasts, playing with your hard nipples, leaving some bite on your soft flesh; the intense smell of blood pushed him to be more rude than normal.

His thrusts began to be more violent and hard, you spread your legs more in an attempt to open more your cunt and receive Gyutaro better but you were still very tight for his thick length. You looked down and could only see your reddish and wet thighs and how your cunt connected directly to Gyutaro's cock while he desperately nailed you. His pants were getting stained with the drops that came out inside you, a very wet feeling that wet your butt and began to reach your back began to bother you. This caused some whimpering to leak to your lips between your moans, a part of you wanted to continue until you couldn't take it anymore but the other part wanted to end right now because your period made you feel really uncomfortable.

"Ah-aahh...Gyu-taro, I wanna cum... I wanna cum right now." you asked, with even more provocative pleas.

Gyutaro couldn't refuse at this moment, you didn't know it but he was surrendering at your feet for allowing him to make this fantasy of fucking you real while both of you were covered in blood. There was nothing better for him.

"As soon?" He sneered "You seemed to be enjoying it, babe. You're a slut, you should like these things."

Gyutaro would tease you by making comments to annoy you and humiliate you sweetly. He rocked his hips forward hard making you scream his name, tightening you around him; Gyutaro moved your legs up to your shoulders and licked the inner part of your thighs, sucking the new spots that were painted on you while he squeezed your wet ass and massaged it lewdly causing more moans from you and from him to see you in this weak state.

His hands cupped your ass and his rough fingers went straight to your cunt, his thumb tightening on your clit to start rubbing it causing chills to run through your body every time he squeezed and played with your nub. His other fingers played between your labia causing wet sounds every time he touched you, staining his fingers in a matter of seconds. From the way you squeezed into Gyutaro he could tell that you were about to cum but for some reason you couldn't and that was starting to frustrate you. You started moving and rubbing against Gyutaro to speed up your orgasm, your face contorted with pleasure as your hands clung to the futon and you bit your lip trying not to drool uncontrollably. Gyutaro kept fucking you hard and that helped the feeling of orgasm start to be more intense for him than for you.

That was a bit funny for him so he couldn't help but laugh and tease you as usual.

"Guess who's going to have the most fucking intense orgasm? It won't be your tight, pathetic little pussy, my love!" He said, while laughing.

Gyutaro started moaning as loudly and shamelessly as he fucking wanted, he grabbed both of your shoulders and then caged you in his arms to get as close to him as he could and hug you, leaving stains all over your back. Gyutaro's hips and yours collided with each other in an obscene reddish splash. An incredible sensation formed in Gyutaro's guts causing him to scratch your skin slightly as he leaned his head back to cum to the last drop inside you. Feeling that thick and warm sensation in your slippery pussy you couldn't help but start moving more and squeezing to try to cum too, you told Gyutaro not to stop touching you, he must have his fingers fucking and squeezing your needy clit over and over again until you finally felt it, your waist trembled and when you spread your legs wide your orgasm poured over Gyutaro creating a pink ring around his dick inside of you.

Gyutaro's hips continued to move reflexively as you finished cumming completely causing your juices and his to squirt out of you onto the futon. Gyutaro grabbed your legs and slowly came out of you to allow you to take a breather after having done what he wanted with you. A sticky red thread spread from your cunt following the tip of his dick as he pulled out of you. His entire cock was painted red as was the fabric of his pants that was under your legs.

Gyutaro looked straight ahead and saw how your wide open pussy continued to get wet and dripping even though he was done using you for now, the sight was too tempting so he couldn't help but lean over and start sucking between your folds, separating them with his fingers to reach towards your clit and lick it with need and desire nibbling your cunt a little making that electrifying sensation of your arousal make you wet and make you throb again. You moaned at Gyutaro's dirty actions and to create a little more friction, you started moving so that your clit brushed and rubbed against Gyutaro's tongue and he could taste every drop of you as he got you aroused again.

"Yeah... keep it up, aahh-ah!" You moaned in need, urged to feel him pleasuring your femininity in whatever way it was again.

"Do you like that? I thought you wanted to finish this now..."

Your hips didn't stop moving as you felt Gyutaro's breath crashing against your folds, you began to feel very horny from one second to the next. Probably because of the wet and intense feeling of having your orgasm almost at the same time as Gyutaro.

"N-no, just…aah! I just wanted to cum, but I want to keep going, I want you to keep going! I want you to touch me and fuck me until you can't anymore! Mmhh-aah!"

Gyutaro loved that you were so pathetic, ready to beg him to do all sorts of things to you.

"So...do you want me to continue?" He asked cruelly to make you beg. "Come on, if you want it so much, beg me for that, beg me to spread your legs wide and fuck you." He said, licking his lips.

"Ah-Aah! Fuck me Gyu, I beg you! Fill me up as much as you can" You replied, touching your own folds not caring that your fingers got dirty when you pumped your hole and they went in and out of you.

Gyutaro smiled mischievously, took your hand that was kneading and playing with your vagina and pulled it out of you to bring it to his mouth and lick your fingers obscenely, without taking his eyes off of you.

"So, this is just getting started."

Drool would go all over me and fall from my mouth like waterfall if I would see this man standing in front of me right now

I'd moan and faint from him just existing there. He would send my heart in cardiac arrest from just poking me once and that's a fact.

My ass be saying no men can tell me what to do but if he told me to go down I'd lay on floor flat on my face

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 11) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

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

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Chapter 11

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. You’ve had various types of feelings about it since you figured out the details, but none of it quite compares to the sheer annoyance you feel when you wake up in the middle of the night to find Tomura dragging you off the couch. “What are you doing?”

“Shut up.” Tomura’s hand comes down over your mouth. “There’s a ghost out there.”

“Are you sure it’s a ghost?” you hiss around his hand. “What if it’s a conjurer.”

“Ghost.” Tomura shakes his head, then frowns. “Two ghosts. No. I don’t know.”

You try to stand up for a look and Tomura yanks you back. “Stay down. They can’t know you’re here.”

“My car is in the driveway,” you point out, exasperated. “They know someone’s here. And if they really are a ghost, why would they –”

Tomura dematerializes partially, going almost transparent. You’ve seen him do that before, when he’s trying to push his influence past the boundaries of the neighborhood or intensify its effects, and from out in the street you hear someone cough, then retch, then cough again. It sounds awful, but the sound is getting louder. Whoever it is, they’re coming closer. It has to be a conjurer. There’s no way another ghost would keep dragging themselves forward knowing Tomura’s waiting for them. If it’s a conjurer, not a ghost – Aizawa’s words flash through your head. “Stay here,” you tell Tomura. “I’ll handle this.”

“What?” Tomura lunges for you, but he can’t materialize fast enough. You get to the front of the house before he can grab you and peer out the window.

There are two people on the sidewalk. One of them is a woman, tall and dark-haired, dressed in the kind of clothes you can’t imagine wearing, let alone going outside in. She’s dragging someone with her, a man with blueish-purple hair. A man who looks sort of familiar, although you can’t place him. A man who’s definitely unconscious. The woman pushes open your front gate, steps over the threshold, and promptly dry-heaves into the dead grass. Tomura’s intensified his influence, so toxic that it’s even making you dizzy, but the woman keeps dragging herself forward, pulling the unconscious man after her.

She doubles over again, retches again, and calls out in a voice that trembles and cracks, barely loud enough to hear. “Help us,” she begs. “Help us, please –”

“Get out,” Tomura hisses, his voice reverberating through the house and into the yard, but something twinges in the back of your mind as you study the unconscious man. You open the door. “Don’t –”

Tomura grabs for you again, misses again, and you step out onto the front porch. The woman in the yard looks up at you. Her eyes are wide in the porch light and she’s blinking hard, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Her eyes are watering, or it looks like they should be. She’s blinking, but there are no tears coming down her face. The air ripples around her strangely, and suddenly you understand what she is, why she’s so affected by Tomura’s aura, why her eyes only work halfway. She’s a ghost. Not a former one. An unbound one.

The person she’s dragging is a ghost, too – or is he? The longer you look at him, the more familiar he gets, and the more obvious it becomes that something’s wrong. “I know him,” Tomura says suddenly. “He was here –”

The name clicks into place in your head. “Shirakumo,” you say, and the man stirs, groans. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” the unbound ghost says. She looks past you, focused on Tomura. “Please let us in.”

Tomura’s never let even a former ghost into the house. There’s no way he’ll let in a live one, especially not like this. But he’s not looking at her. He’s looking at Shirakumo, then at you, and then at Shirakumo again. Then back to you. “It’s our house,” he says, almost hesitantly. This is the wrong time for you to get butterflies, but it happens anyway. You’re really stupid. You nod, and Tomura faces the unbound ghost again. “If you try anything, I’ll kill you. You can drag him up here on your own.”

Tomura, in spite of everything, is still an asshole. You hurry down the steps barefoot to help the ghost carry Shirakumo, and when you touch him, you recoil in shock. Some parts of Shirakumo’s body are hot, so burning hot that you can feel them through his shirt. Other parts of him are so cold that it’s like sticking your hand in a bowl of dry ice, colder by far than what Tomura projects. Shirakumo’s not a ghost. He wasn’t a ghost when you met him. But touching him now feels like walking over your own grave.

Tomura helps to a certain extent, if only by propping the door open with his foot and holding Phantom so she won’t run away. He levels a question at the unbound ghost as the two of you carry Shirakumo up the stairs. “Why did you come here?”

“He told me about this place,” she says. She’s starting to have trouble holding her form. You can tell by the way her voice wavers, the way Shirakumo’s full weight falls on you for a split second. “It was the only place we could hide.”

“Hide from what?” you ask. The unbound ghost looks helplessly at you. “Where did you come here from?”

She says the name of a city. You see her mouth move, but the name goes in one ear and out the other without sticking in your thoughts. You have to ask her to say it again, and then the weight of what she’s saying crashes down on you. It’s a good thing you’ve finally made it to the living room and dropped Shirakumo on the couch. If you hadn’t, you’d have dropped him on the floor in horror.

You try to hide it, but Tomura notices. How long has Tomura known you this well? He issues a few threats to the other ghost about what will happen if she touches you or Phantom, then comes over to you. “What?”

“It’s –” You don’t know how to explain. You didn’t explain what you and Aizawa were looking for when you went back to the office “A ghost went missing in the city she just said. A conjurer was in that city, too. He could have had something to do with this.”

“I don’t know what this is.” Tomura makes a sharp, frustrated gesture. “He’s alive. You’re human and even you can see that. You can’t see the ghost. If you could you’d never have touched him. Fuck!”

The lights flicker. “Calm down,” you plead. You hold out your hands for Tomura’s and he gives them to you. “What do you mean? There’s another ghost?”

“It’s – attached to him. Part of him but not. It’s –” Tomura wavers for a moment, his materialization failing. His shoulders heave like he’s about to throw up. “It hurts.”

“Garaki did this.” The unbound ghost is mostly dematerialized now, down to nothing but a pair of eyes and a mouth and a voice. It’s unsettling to look at. “His conjurer. I don’t know how. We barely got away.”

On your couch, Shirakumo stirs. Shirakumo, or the ghost that’s apparently attached to him. When he speaks, you can hear two voices in one. “Kill me.”

“No,” you say reflexively. You can’t have a dead body on your couch, and you need more information. You need to know what happened. You need to know why. “I’m going to call Aizawa.”

Aizawa’s going to kick your ass for calling him this late. You pick up the phone and call him anyway, and he picks up on the fifth ring in the worst mood you’ve ever encountered him in. “This had better be important.”

“I found the ghost who went missing,” you say. Aizawa swears. “One ghost, and one person who’s – they’re alive, but there’s a ghost attached to them –”

“Where are they?” Aizawa demands, but it only takes him a second to figure out why you’re the one calling him. “They’re in your house?”

“Uh – yes.” You glance at Tomura. Tomura is scowling. “They said the person who did this – it was Garaki.”

You’re expecting some kind of response from Aizawa. Instead there’s a scuffle on his end of the line, and you hear Hizashi’s voice, faintly. “Shou, I’m not fucking around. Give me the goddamn phone.” A moment later, you hear his voice loud and clear. “Put your ghost on. Right now.”

You hand the phone off to Tomura in a hurry, desperate to get away from Hizashi’s voice. Tomura takes the phone and lifts it to his ear. “What do you want? I –”

You can’t hear Hizashi’s voice anymore, even when you come closer, and Tomura isn’t speaking out loud in response. They’re talking, though. You don’t know how, but they are. When you put your hand on Tomura’s shoulder, you feel tension that shouldn’t be there. The physical contact is a mistake. Tomura’s free hand snakes out, wraps around your waist, and pulls you tightly in against his side. A moment later he hangs up the phone.

“What happened?” you ask. Tomura’s jaw is clenched so tightly that tendons are standing out in his neck. “Tomura –”

“They’re coming here,” Tomura says through gritted teeth. “All four of them.”

“They’re all coming here?” you ask, shocked. “Why?”

“It’s their fault.” Tomura throws a venomous glance back into the living room. “That conjurer is hunting them. He’ll follow them here. He’ll pass Aizawa’s house before he gets here.”

“So? He’s not –” You remember your conversation with Aizawa earlier, the picture you found of the conjurer, the fact that Aizawa kept it. “He’s Hizashi’s conjurer, too.”

Tomura nods once. “They’re coming here to hide,” he says. The lights flicker again. “I can’t be here. My body. I have to make a shield.”

“Did Hizashi tell you to do that?” You’re going to have words for Hizashi when he gets here. “Garaki’s not even your conjurer. Why are you –”

“It’s our stupid neighborhood,” Tomura snaps. Your jaw drops. “Don’t look at me like that. I have to go.”

“Wait,” you say, struggling to speak around the shock. Tomura stops mid-dematerialization, and you step close to him, wrap your arms around a body that’s barely there enough to embrace, press a kiss to a mouth that’s less than a whisper against your own. You sound insane even to yourself when you speak. “Be careful.”

He vanishes without a word, and you kick yourself. Be careful? Garaki’s not his conjurer, and even if he was, Tomura’s still a ghost – an unbelievably powerful ghost, powerful enough to cast an aura over the entire neighborhood. There’s nothing for Tomura to be careful of. Tomura’s going to be fine. That’s more than you can say of any of the unexpected guests you’ll be hosting this evening.

Aizawa and the others will be here soon. In the meantime, you turn to the last spot you saw the unbound ghost. “What should I call you?”

“My customers call me Midnight.” That explains her outfit when she’s materialized, at least. “My friends call me Nemuri.”

“Nemuri,” you say. You nod at Shirakumo on the couch – Shirakumo, and whatever ghost he’s fused to, are unconscious again. “Which one is he?”

“A little of both.” Her eyes are bright blue. They appear briefly, aimed at Shirakumo, then vanish. “The ghost he’s bound to was the same.”

Phantom’s been sniffing Shirakumo’s hand where it dangles over the edge of the couch, but suddenly she jumps up and runs to the front door. Aizawa and the others must be here. You check out the front window to make sure and find them negotiating the path to your front steps, Aizawa dragging Hizashi and Shinsou carrying Eri. You feel the air inside the house ripple as they approach. “What happened?”

“Your ghost has intensified his aura. It’s making them ill.” Aizawa dumps Hizashi into the porch swing, then turns to lift Eri out of Shinsou’s arms. “Can’t you feel it?”

You can’t feel anything – just unease that gets worse when you see the same emotion on Aizawa’s face. Aizawa sits down on the front steps, and so does Shinsou, and something occurs to you. “Did Tomura say you couldn’t come in?”

“Hizashi gave that impression, right before he threw up.”

Tomura, as always, is an asshole. “It defeats the purpose of hiding if you’re out in plain sight on the porch,” you say. “Come in.”

Aizawa hands Eri back to Shinsou, and you help him haul Hizashi off the porch swing and into the house. “Nice place you’ve got here,” Hizashi mumbles. “Aside from the ghost. Dammit –”

He retches, but nothing comes up. Eri, meanwhile, is quiet and wide-eyed. “It’s nicer in here,” she says. “It feels safe.”

“That would be the aura,” you say awkwardly. Your house doesn’t really have a lot of entertainment value for little kids. “Um –”

“It’s not the aura. The aura’s hideous,” Hizashi mutters. “The aura’s not in here. Not many houses have a happy ghost in them.”

You’re really not sure how you’re supposed to take that. “I don’t think Tomura feels –”

Six months ago you could have ended the sentence there. I don’t think Tomura feels. He reacts to sensations. He has things he wants and things he doesn’t. He’s territorial and possessive and easily pissed off, but feelings? Tomura doesn’t have those. Not for anyone. Not for you.

An awkward silence falls. “No, he does,” Eri says blithely, oblivious to how deeply you’re cringing. “Everything is bad out there, but it’s happy in here because he is.”

You decide you’re not going to think about that right now. You look to Aizawa. “You need to take a look at this. Something’s really wrong with this person.”

Aizawa follows you to the living room, but so does Hizashi, and when they see Shirakumo, both of them curse. Hizashi hurries forward, then stops as a full-body shiver runs through him. “God, Nem – back off! I’m trying to help!”

They know each other. While Hizashi tries to untangle himself from Nemuri, Aizawa examines Shirakumo, his expression darkening by the second. “The ghost attached to him is trying to drain him of energy and escape, but because it’s attached to him, it’s experiencing the pain of the siphoning simultaneously. If it could be convinced to stop –”

“The ghost? Nem says she’s been trying.” Hizashi is still grimacing, but he’s not throwing up on your floor, so you decide to call it a win. “It won’t listen. And I wouldn’t have, if that had been me. If I’d been forced to embody myself, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Forced embodiment? Is that what this is?” You look at Shirakumo, then back at Hizashi. “Why would Garaki want that?”

“The ghost is still a ghost. It’s still got powers,” Hizashi says. “And now it’s got a guaranteed source of energy, and a semi-permanent anchor to the human world.”

So Garaki turned Shirakumo into a living battery for the ghost who went missing. “Combine that with the pain and rage this situation will inspire in the ghost, and you’ve got the recipe for a rampage,” Hizashi continues. He reaches out and puts his hand on Shirakumo’s forehead. “At least, that’s what’s supposed to happen.”

Nemuri’s voice emanates from the corner of the room. “What do you mean?”

“Our friend’s never wanted to hurt anyone in his entire existence,” Hizashi says. “I don’t know Shirakumo, but they must be similar, because they’re in agreement: They don’t want to hurt anyone. They’d rather die.”

“They want to die,” you correct. Nobody’s dying in your house. “What do we do?”

The silence that falls is panic-inducing, especially when Shirakumo stirs again, groans again. Eri comes over and takes his hand, and Hizashi’s hand remains on his forehead. They’re trying to calm the ghost, and there’s only one ghost whose moods you can alter. You back away from the couch and retreat into the kitchen. Shinsou and Aizawa follow you. Shinsou switches on the sink, followed by the garbage disposal, and turns to Aizawa. “Dad, what do we do?”

Aizawa switches off the garbage disposal and turns off the water. Then he’s quiet for a little while. “Our options are limited,” he says finally. “I doubt Nemuri made significant efforts to cover her tracks, and the ghost fused with Shirakumo was likely unable to do so at all. If we proceed under the assumption that our location’s been compromised and Garaki is on his way, the question turns to how we can defend ourselves.”

“You have that gun,” you point out. “What was it you said? It takes a lot of ghostly power to stop a bullet?”

“It takes a lot of ghostly power to fuse a ghost to a human being,” Aizawa says. “We have no idea how that process works, or how quickly Garaki can accomplish it. That means none of us are free from risk in facing him. Even Tomura –”

“If Garaki was Dad’s conjurer, Dad’s probably his upper limit as far as power goes,” Shinsou breaks in. “Tomura’s way above that. Besides, Tomura is another conjurer’s ghost. Would he really mess with somebody else’s ghost?”

“Tomura can’t influence the living world outside the property line,” you remind Shinsou. Then you look at Aizawa. “And didn’t you say that no conjurer on the planet is dumb enough to come in here? If you want Tomura to deal with the conjurer, you have to get the conjurer past the fence.”

“Maybe we lure him,” Shinsou muses. “Use Dabi as bait or something. Get him to follow Dabi down to this end of the road and then shove him into the yard.”

The mention of Dabi’s name sets off an alarm bell. “We have to warn Keigo. He should be over here, too.”

“That’s another problem. We can’t stay hidden here forever,” Aizawa says. “Tomura will lose patience, and even if he doesn’t, our absences will be noted. It’s in this conjurer’s best interest to make us wait.”

“No, it isn’t.”

The voice is Tomura’s, disembodied and raspy and rough – and tired. He sounds tired. “The longer he waits, the more time we have to plan. The more time me and that other ghost have to store up power. If he waits, he loses.” It’s quiet for a second. “He’ll be here by tonight.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s what I’d do.” Hizashi’s voice, just as disembodied as Tomura’s, floats in from the living room. “Send the search team and Atsuhiro out, like we’ve been doing. Send the kids to school. Go to work.”

That last is to you. Hizashi addresses his husband next. “Shou, you can take the day off. Go get some invasive plants. We need batteries for Nemuri and Tomura – and Dabi.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Dabi’s remaining powers are unpredictable.”

“If we can’t predict them, neither can Garaki.” Hizashi’s quiet for a second. “He’s like any other ghost. He doesn’t like the idea of anyone taking what’s his.”

Hizashi’s words take a second to sink in. In the panic over Garaki’s impending arrival, you forgot why Garaki’s coming here in the first place. Two of his ghosts are in this neighborhood, two ghosts who shirked their duty. Garaki’s coming to punish them. And the fastest way to punish them is to take away the people they embodied themselves for. It’s not Dabi and Hizashi who are in danger. It’s Keigo and Aizawa – and because Hizashi has a family, Shinsou and Eri, too.

“Are you sure we should act like things are normal?” you ask. “We can’t protect Shinsou and Eri if they’re away from the neighborhood, and we don’t know how closely Garaki’s watching us.”

“He doesn’t know to look for them,” Aizawa says. “What Hizashi did is – unusual. Embodied ghosts don’t typically like to share their humans, even with their children. It’s not something Garaki will think to check.”

“Then you should stay home,” you say to Aizawa. His eyes flash. “You and Keigo. The rest of the team can go out and I’ll take off work to buy the batteries. My boss will understand.”

Mr. Yagi is probably going to tell you that you shouldn’t go out, either, but you’ve got the bracelets, and nobody’s looking for you. You make your way back into the living room, over to Hizashi and Eri. Shinsou and Aizawa follow you in. “It’s late,” you say. “Shinsou, Eri, you both can sleep up in my room. Aizawa, Hizashi, you can have the floor. I’ve got extra blankets and everything. I think it’s probably best if Shirakumo stays on the couch.”

“I’ll stay up with him. Someone needs to keep him calm,” Hizashi says. “I’ll try to find out what happened, too. All right?”

He’s not asking you. He’s asking Aizawa. Aizawa looks unhappy, but he nods. He brushes past you, kisses Hizashi’s forehead, and turns back for the children. He scoops Eri up and puts a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder before looking to you. “Lead the way.”

The only person who’s ever been up to the top floor since you moved in is you. You show everyone where the upstairs bathroom is, switch out the heavy blanket on the bed for one that you and Tomura weren’t hooking up on, and drag an ancient sleeping bag out of hiding for Aizawa to use. Then you stand there awkwardly, trying to think if there’s anything else you need to take care of as a host. “Um, Tomura sometimes comes in here at night, but I don’t think he will if I’m not up here. He’ll stay out of the bathroom, too. If you hear anything weird it’s probably just Phantom. She has a crate to sleep in, but she might be a little more active tonight.”

“Can she sleep on the bed?” Shinsou asks.

“No,” Aizawa says before you can answer. “Your sister is allergic, and so am I. We’d prefer to sleep with the door shut.”

“No problem.” You head for the door.

“But this is your bed,” Eri says around a yawn. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“I probably won’t,” you say. “I have some things to take care of.”

You have to let the rest of the neighborhood know what’s happening, communicate the plan, and convince them to follow it, starting with Keigo. Aizawa can probably guess that. “Wake me if you need help.”

You nod and switch off the light. Then you step into the hallway and shut the door behind you.

The house always feels alive, but right now it feels chaotic. There are two live ghosts, two former ghosts, and one ghost-human abomination inside it, and the clashing energies are making your head hurt. You push through it long enough to retrieve your laptop and sit down at the kitchen table. You leave the lid of it shut. The first thing you need to do is give Keigo a wakeup call.

But as you’re unlocking your phone, you see something scribbled on the back of your hand. It takes you a second to remember what it is, but once you remember, you set your phone aside and open up your laptop to search Garaki’s forwarding address. It’s a fancy hotel in a city an hour or so north of yours. You need to confirm if he’s still there. The trick you used before should work just fine. You check the reporter’s name again, block your number, and call the hotel. When the reception desk picks up, you give them the reporter’s name and ask for Dr. Garaki.

“I’m afraid you just missed him. The doctor checked out this morning,” the receptionist says. Your heart sinks. “My apologies. What did you say your name was?”

You repeat your borrowed name – and your borrowed cover story. “Did he leave a forwarding address? There’s been an update to the story I wrote and my boss wants me to get a comment.”

“Let me see.” The receptionist’s fingernails click audibly against the keys. “Yes, he did. It’s –”

You write the entire address, but your fingers go numb after you’ve written the city name. It’s here. Garaki’s at a fancy hotel in your city, which means Tomura’s right, and Hizashi’s right, too. He knows where you are. He’ll be here soon. He’ll be here tomorrow.

You thank the receptionist for her help, hang up the phone, and lean back in your chair, feeling sick to your stomach. Garaki’s here. You have his exact location. You could call the hotel right now and get his room number, and then you could borrow Aizawa’s gun and go solve this yourself. It would be easy. You’d wear your bracelets, so he wouldn’t see you coming, and you’d blow his head off the instant he opened the door. All the ghostly power in the world won’t save him if he’s caught by surprise. You could do all that if you want to go to prison for the rest of your life.

You push the thought away. You need to strategize, and you can’t do it alone. As much as you hate to do it, you pick up your computer and your phone and make your way into the living room to join Hizashi.

He doesn’t look up. “I heard you on the phone. Did you get something?”

“I know where Garaki is.” That gets Hizashi’s attention, and you turn your laptop around to show him. “I can’t think of how we’d get him without someone going to prison.”

Nemuri’s voice emanates from the chair you were planning to sit in. “I could go.”

“His power level’s too high. In a straight fight he’d win,” Hizashi says. Nemuri emits a scathing noise. “He’s already gotten one of my friends, Nem. I don’t have a lot of friends. I don’t want to lose another one.”

“Tomura’s plan could still work,” you say. “Somebody could lure him out of there, out of sight, and we could take care of it.”

“Something’s already luring him out of there. Us. Tomorrow night.” Hizashi says. “This is our territory. He thinks he’s coming here to retrieve Shirakumo and punish me and Dabi. He’s not going to be ready for Nem, and he’s sure as hell not going to be ready for Tomura. Even if Tomura can’t leave the property, he can project his aura, and if he focuses it on one person, it’ll slow them down significantly.”

“Wouldn’t he have to decloak the whole neighborhood?”

“Only for a split second. That’s all we’ll need,” Hizashi says. He pitches his voice to carry. “You can do that, right, Crusty?”

Whatever Tomura says in response, he doesn’t say it out loud. Hizashi grimaces. “We’re all set on that front,” he announces to everybody who wasn’t in on the conversation, which is just you and Phantom. “In other news, I found out what happened with our friend and this guy. He calmed down enough to tell me, and it’s – not good.”

“Spit it out,” Nemuri says, and you nod in agreement. “Can it be fixed?”

“If it can, we’re not the ones to do it,” Hizashi says heavily. Nemuri’s despair floods the room. “It seems like Garaki’s found a way to temporarily bind ghosts – something that allows him to capture and contain them while he finds and contains a host. From there, he has to draw the host’s life-force out enough for the ghost to latch onto it. I can’t tell if it’s the fastest way or the only way, but whatever way it is, he does it through torture.”

“Until the host loses their will to live,” you realize, and Hizashi nods. “That’s when he ties the ghost to them. Like binding a ghost to a house.”

“Right. Except a ghost bound to a house can destroy it and escape,” Hizashi says. “As far as I can tell, this type of binding leads the ghost to view the human host as an extension of themselves. Killing the human is the same as killing themselves, and ghosts, uh – we don’t do that.”

“You don’t or you can’t?”

“Both,” Nemuri says. “We can’t destroy our own essences, and even if we could, what purpose would there be in it? We aren’t like humans. What makes humans kill themselves, anyway? Do you know?”

She’s asking Hizashi – Hizashi, who looks weirdly disquieted. “Don’t look at me. Ask the human.”

“Ask Google,” you say. “I’m not an expert on human stuff just because I’m human.”

Nemuri either doesn’t know what Google is or doesn’t care. “Why do humans kill themselves?’

There are two ghosts staring at you now, and distantly, you can feel Tomura’s eyes on you. “Um,” you start. “So, there are a lot of reasons why. Usually it’s multiple reasons at once, I think. Sometimes it’s after something bad has happened to us – something traumatic, or something we feel really guilty about. Or someone we love leaving us or dying. Sometimes it’s smaller stuff that builds up over time, like having depression or alcohol or things like that. Or being really lonely for a long time.”

As you’re talking it, it occurs to you that everything you’ve said has something in common. You can’t tell if it’s a brand-new realization or some long-ago memory of psych 101 crawling to the surface, but you say it anyway. “There are lots of reasons why a human might kill themselves. But people who do that – they do it because they think things are going to be like that forever, that nothing’s ever going to change. And they decide they can’t take it anymore.”

You sounded way too authoritative when you said that. You qualify it in a hurry. “I think.”

The ghosts, both present and former, sit with that for a second. “But some things can’t be changed,” Nemuri says, puzzled. “A human who dies is gone forever. Humans die every day and the rest of you don’t kill yourselves over it.”

“You’re right. We can’t change death. But how we feel about it can change,” you explain. “We can grieve. And we can move on. So thinking about the person we’ve lost will hurt less.”

“Ghosts can’t change,” Hizashi says quietly. He glances up at the ceiling, probably looking for the room where Aizawa’s sleeping. “I won’t be here long after he’s gone.”

“Don’t say that,” you say without thinking. “For all you know, you’ll go first.”

It’s dead silent for a moment. Then Hizashi bursts into quiet but somehow still raucous laughter. “Serves me right for being dramatic. Now I get how you handle him.”

You wouldn’t say Tomura was dramatic, exactly. Moody would probably be more accurate, and like you’ve summoned him on a thought, he materializes right in front of you. You’ve been sitting on the floor, laptop balanced in your lap, and he sets it aside to make room for himself. He doesn’t seem to care that you’re in full view of everybody, or that Hizashi is staring unabashedly at the two of you, his jaw practically on the floor. “What about the shield?” you ask faintly.

Tomura’s busy getting situated in your lap. He’s fully materialized, his face pressed into the curve of your neck. “I can do that and this at the same time.”

“He can,” Nemuri says after a moment. “It feels just as it did before. Most of us aren’t able to utilize our powers in the psychic plane and maintain control of our energy usage at the same time.”

“Our little misanthrope is quite impressive. We’re very proud,” Hizashi says, only partially sarcastically. He makes eye contact with you. “Have you updated the others on the plan yet? Maybe save the cuddling until after your work is done.”

You’re conscious of how tightly Tomura is holding onto you, and simultaneously, how brittle his grip feels. You reach out to close the lid of your laptop and pick up your phone instead. “I can do that and this at the same time.”

Hizashi and Nemuri have probably been hanging out among humans long enough to know that seeing a man sitting in a woman’s lap is weird, but thankfully they both keep quiet. Nemuri’s presence drifts away, heading out to the front porch, and Hizashi focuses back in on Shirakumo. You wait until they’re both occupied before you turn your attention to Tomura officially. “Are you okay?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m doing what I’d do if none of them were here.”

“If you were doing that, you’d be staring at me from the corner of the room.” Your bed, with you, at night, is a boundary Tomura’s never tried to breach while embodied. You’re not sure why. “What is it?”

Tomura shakes his head. More of his weight falls against you, and you scoot back a few inches, leaning against the wall to prop yourself up. Tomura’s hair brushes against your cheek, and you bring the hand that’s not holding your phone up and begin to work it through the tangles. It’s not something you do often. Usually when Tomura’s materialized this close to you, he’s after a hookup, and he usually dematerializes fast after the two of you are done. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s been like this, and two of them happened today.

Maybe he’s just tired. Ghosts might not be able to sleep, but you’ve never seen or heard anybody claim that they can’t get tired. “I’m going to call the others and update them,” you say to him, and he nods. “Stay here as long as you want.”

Tomura doesn’t respond this time, just settles against you, heavy and cold. You keep combing your fingers through his hair and call Keigo first. He doesn’t pick up on the first call, so you call back again, already feeling awful about the news you’re going to give him. After you call him, you’ll call Spinner next, then Jin – and then you’ll work your way through the other numbers, until everybody in the neighborhood and Mr. Yagi outside of it know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Thinking about it scares you, even if it’s not your ghost the conjurer is after. It would scare you more if Tomura wasn’t here.

Maybe that’s why this is happening. Maybe he knows you’re scared, or maybe he’s scared, too. You try to be careful about things that reveal your feelings, but you turn your head and kiss his temple, letting your mouth linger there for longer than really necessary. A lot longer. You don’t pull away until Keigo picks up your call. He sounds sleepy, and like he’s in a mood. “This had better be good.”

“Keigo. Hi.” Your stomach clenches with anxiety, and you focus as best you can on the texture of Tomura’s hair as it slides through your fingers. It grounds you, somehow, the same way as his weight in your lap does. “Sorry to wake you. It’s about Garaki.”

For your request did You want the hero to treat him a god or he treats her like a god?

(Pour votre demande voulez-vous que le héros le traite comme un dieu ou il la traite comme un dieu?)

The hero treat him like a god ^^ thanks for the traduction but don't worry i understand it in english i just don't know how to write it

For the first time in his life, Tomura Shigaraki has full control of his quirk. With this newfound freedom, there is so much that he wants to do. And it just so happens that you are at the very top of that list.

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Contains: GN!Pronouns, Smut, Soft Shigaraki, Penetrative Sex (Reader Receiving), Oral Sex (Reader Recieving), Pre-Paranormal Liberation War, Post-PLF Manga Spoilers tho, Established Relationship, Alcohol, Massage, League Shenanigans. (Honestly, no crazy CW's with this one lol. It's just fluff and smut and angst lol)

Notes: I tried to write something wholesome to try and heal our mourning Shig-simp hearts... It had mixed results lol.

AO3 Link

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

That seemed a little too easy.

It’s the first thought that crossed Shigaraki’s mind when he came to on the Doctor’s operating table. Don’t get him wrong, the time Ujiko had spent vivisecting him from finger to finger had been hell on earth, but it seemed to go by a little too quickly for four months. 

“That’s because it’s only been a week,” Ujiko explained as he approached Shigaraki with a paper cup of water — an absolutely pathetic offering considering the world of pain the man had just mercilessly put him through.

But Shigaraki took it anyway.

“Didn’t realize that there were going to be breaks,” he said before knocking back the cup in one gulp.

“Once we begin the transference of All for One, there won’t be,” Ujiko explained, “What I was working on this time, was completing your quirk.”

Shigaraki’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

Ujiko chuckled, gesturing to the paper cup in the new leader’s hands, “Why don’t you try putting your pinky down?”

He shot the doctor a confused look, not sure what exactly that would accomplish other than sparing him a trip to the trash can. But upon Ujiko’s nod of reassurance, he looked back down at the cup, bringing his raised finger down on its crease experimentally.

Shigaraki’s eyes widened immediately.

The cup was still in his hand.

It didn’t turn to dust. Didn’t even crumble or sport a single crack. He touched it with all five fingers and yet it stood with as much integrity as the steel IV pole next to him. 

He snapped to the doctor, something unreadable in his voice, “Is… Is decay gone?”

“No, no of course not. I’d never purge you of such a powerful quirk,” Ujiko assured, “You just have control over it now.”

Shigaraki willed decay to activate, testing Ujiko’s explanation, and in an instant, the cup dissolved under his touch, just like he was used to. 

He stared at his hand in disbelief, the dust falling through his fingers. He couldn’t believe this…

“And it’s not just turning it on or off, all or nothing,” Ujiko continued, “You can stop the spread of decay at certain points, activate it with just one finger — you have full control.”

Shigaraki snapped to Ujiko, intensely. Desperate. Maybe he should’ve been doing a better job of maintaining his poker face like Sensei would’ve, to try and hide the way this was affecting him. But he just couldn’t. Not now. Not when something he’d longed for so badly, so primally was so close to his grasp.

“Are you sure?”

Ujiko didn’t seem to take notice of this lapse of control however. Or at least, he didn’t care. His bushy mustache just raised with a small smile and pride in his work.

“Quite sure.”

 Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed. He was not fucking around here, “ How sure?”

Ujiko’s smile shifted slightly, a challenging smirk pulling at the corners as he offered his own hand as fodder.

Shigaraki slapped his fingers fully atop the back of Daruma’s fat hand, letting the full extent of his anger and emotions drive him. He wanted to test this fully, test that even in fits of passion, he wouldn’t lose control.

And he didn’t.

Daruma Ujiko stood just as whole and living in front of him as the moments before. The only change was the chuckle of satisfaction that Shigaraki’s dumbfounded expression brought him.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Daruma said, turning back to start pulling out equipment for the next phase of experimentation, large hulking tubes and wires that looked more akin to HVAC parts than real medical equipment.

Neat wasn’t exactly the phrase Shigaraki would use. But he didn’t really care anymore. 

He had shit to do.

“Now, regarding the next steps in your transformation—”

The EKG machine behind him beeped loudly and suddenly, signaling that it had been disconnected. Ujiko turned back to Shigaraki curiously, watching as he pulled off the various electrode pads scattered across his chest and back.

“You don’t want to get started?”

“Tomorrow,” Shigaraki answered, ripping the IV from his wrist as he hopped off the table.

“But what about the power? Your dreams?” Ujiko pressed, something strained, irritated starting to form in his voice, “I would think that these are all things you’d want without delay.”

“I do. But achieving them one day later won’t kill me. And I have some shit to take care of before I grind for four months.”

Ujiko clicked his tongue, clearly unsatisfied with this new development. 

He knew exactly what Shigaraki had to go take care of. And he didn’t like it. Didn’t like you . He’d never liked you in fact. You asked too many questions. Had too many suspicions…

But Shigaraki didn’t care about the doctor’s disapproval, simply turned to him after slapping a bandage over his free-flowing wrist and commanded, “Warp me back to the villa.”

This clearly wasn’t up for discussion. Ujiko could’ve protested, sure, but at the end of the day it wouldn’t have mattered. Shigaraki wasn’t a kid anymore, far from it. He’d taken the mantle of true leader by force, and held his head high with the confidence that accomplishment deserved. If he wanted to do something, he was going to do it. The risk of upsetting the doctor or even his master was not a concern anymore. It barely ever had been.

So in the end Ujiko just sighed and turned to his obedient servant sitting patiently in the corner, “Johnny.”

Shigaraki didn’t so much as flinch as the warp came spewing out of his mouth. In fact, a rare sheen of childlike joy took over his features instead. Daruma noted this with a shaking head as he warped away. Oh well. If Shigaraki wanted one last night with his companions, with his little distraction , who was Ujiko to get in the way?

This was the last night he’d have control over his own body after all. Might as well let him enjoy it.

“Robber!” you cheered victoriously, pumping your fist over the seven you rolled.

“Noooo, not again!!” Toga cried out.

You grabbed the little gray token off the board, twirling it around tauntingly as you hum, “Hmmm, and where should I put him? I wonder…”

Spinner glared at you from across the board, “If you put it on my wheat field one more time—”

“Great idea Spinner!” you mock-gasped, already well aware of where you were planning to put it, and slap the Robber down in the center of Spinner’s monopolized wheat hex. 

“Great move! Cheap shot! ” Twice, the last player of the group, piped in.

“ Damn it !” Spinner punched his fist down on the table, shaking the drinks surrounding the board precariously.

“Oi, oi careful there!” you said, grabbing your glass of wine protectively, “If you party foul, you lose a turn.”

Spinner just grumbled irritably, grabbing his own beer and knocking it back to try and quell some of his frustration. You giggled at the sight. It would be easy to assume that Shigaraki was the most competitive and aggressive game player out of the League, but he actually managed to keep his cool during sessions most of the time. No, it was undeniably Spinner that was the most uncontrollably competitive, and it never failed to make you smile.

Even as the thought of Shigaraki threatened your demeanor with a frown.

You shook out the thought, because of course, you had another certain player to focus on. And you turned to her pointedly.

“Alright Toga, half your hand, let’s go.”

She gasped, “Whaaaat? What are you talking about!? I only have six cards!”

“That’s because two of them are sticking out of your sweater.”

Toga looked down to her sleeve, where indeed the corners of two resource cards were poking out rebelliously.

She snapped back to Compress in offense, who sat on the couch behind her, observing the game amusedly with his own glass of wine in hand, “Atsuhiro! You said that trick would work!”

“I’m sorry my dear,” he shrugged his hands tragically, “But it seems your sleight of hand needs a bit more work.”

Toga groaned, pulling her cards out of her sleeve and looking over which ones she wanted to discard with a pout.

Crushing his finished beer in his hand, Spinner turned back to Dabi who sat across the room, as far from the game as possible, and pretending not to watch it all, like he wsn’t invested in a single thing in this room. Not at all.

“Oi Dabi, can you grab me a beer?”

“You’ve got legs, get it yourself.”

“But the fridge is right freaking next to you!” Spinner shouted, pointing at the minifridge that actually, was not only right next to Dabi, but that he was currently resting his feet on top of.

But Dabi was a son of a bitch. So rather than even giving him an answer, he just crossed his feet over the fridge, making himself more comfortable.

“God, seriously ?!”

Shigaraki watched this all from the doorway with a whisper of a smile on his face. He’d stopped by his bedroom at the villa to grab a button down and even considered grabbing a quick shower while he was at it before coming here — the griminess of a week of experimentation sticking to him thickly. But ultimately he’d been too eager to see his comrades.

Yet, once he got to the doorway that the familiar rowdy laughter of his League led him to, he couldn’t help but just stop and take in the moment. It was nice to see them all so comfortable and content after months of chaos and vagrancy. And it was a look that especially suited you.

While you’d never been particularly materialistic or image-obsessed (if your decision to be with him didn’t make that obvious), you certainly also weren’t one to turn down the finer things in life when offered. And clearly here, you’d been offered, given the cashmere sweater and expensive bottle of wine you were currently enjoying. The regular access to showers and brand name moisturizers and cosmetics certainly weren’t hurting you either. Your skin was clearer and more glowing than he’d seen in months. You’d even seemed to have some time to style your hair today.

And of course there was your laugh. That big, uninhibited laugh that you only let out when you were truly comfortable. In general you were a pretty pragmatic person. It’s one of the things he’d always appreciated about you, particularly when surrounded by this circus that he calls a villain group. 

You approached new situations skeptically and took most things seriously. It’s not like you had no sense of humor, quite the opposite actually. But you also were very aware that there was a time and place for everything. When the pressure was high, laughter was nowhere to be found. And it had certainly been nowhere to be found for a while now.

So it went without saying that seeing you like this now, laughing over a game board, cheeks tinged slightly-red from the wine, completely taken care of and without a care in the world…

It was quite the sight for sore eyes.

“Shigaraki?”

He blinked and looked back to Spinner who, in standing to go grab a beer from the fridge, had turned and spotted him in the doorway.

“Tomura!” Toga squealed excitedly, jumping up out of her seat with Twice to join Spinner in barraging him in the doorway.

“What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be leveling up with the Doc?” Spinner asked.

“Got a night off,” he answered simply.

“That’s awesome boss! Who needs ya?! ”

He turned to look past the three as you approached behind them, much calmer than the others, as usual. But that didn’t mean you weren’t just as thrilled to have him here. The adoration in your eyes was clear from across the room and it warmed him up in a way that he’d learned to really enjoy.

“It’s good to see you,” you said, simple and sweet. There was clearly so much more behind those words, but you knew how Shigaraki felt about doing shit like that in front of people, so you kept it subtle.

Apparently the caution was unnecessary though, as Shigaraki seemed to have lost his own patience for pretense. Even if it made his next words the spark that set off a firework show of “ooo’s” and teasing from resident forever teenagers, Toga and Twice.

“Yeah…” he breathed, “...Can we talk? Alone?”

It was all you could do to sit down on his bed when he told you.

“Full control?” you repeated in disbelief.

“Full control.”

You smiled, so genuinely, eyes starting to shine. You weren't even thinking about what this meant for the two of you yet, you were just happy for him, for the peace he could now live with. The burden that had eased.

“That… That’s amazing Tomura…”

Shigaraki stared down at you, a lump of nerves settling in his gut. He wasn’t affected by things like nerves or apprehension very much anymore — barely ever was in the first place, and especially not now that he had all the confidence and authority of a “Supreme Leader”. But he couldn’t keep those feelings from surfacing in that moment, couldn’t shake the image in his mind of things going terribly wrong. 

Of you crumbling into a pile of dust and viscera in front of him.

He swallowed down those fears though, and started to reach out a shaky hand, “Can… Can I…?”

Whatever apprehension he felt, you obviously didn’t share. You shot out a hand immediately, without hesitation. With complete trust in his word. In him.

His trembling palm pressed against your own firm one, fingers still raised taught and high on instinct, careful not to make contact. You slotted your fingers through his own, bringing them down to hold his hand with none of that same carefulness. His knee-jerk reaction was to scold you for being so reckless around his hands, just like he always did, but he held the words back, knowing he didn’t need to anymore. But the subconscious anxiety buzzing within him was just the same. 

You didn’t rush him either. Just gave him a squeeze of reassurance, and that was enough to finally encourage him to put a finger down. And then another. Tip by tip resting firmly and fully against your knuckles, until only his pinky remained raised.

He stared down at the horrid appendage, the one that had betrayed him so many times. That he could remember the horrible, gruesome ways in which it had destroyed in full, vivid detail now. Of the damage it could do to not only the world, but had done to his world. To Mon-chan, his mother, his sister…

The League was his world now — you were his world. And the idea of destroying that all with his own hands. It was too much. 

No, he decided, starting to pull away. This wasn’t fucking worth the risk.

But you leaned forward then, pressing your lips gently against his, locking him in place. You didn’t deepen it, nor did you pull away. You just held yourself against him, willing him to understand that this would all be okay. That he was a “Grand Commander” now, and with that came taking risks. Risks that you’d stand behind him through to the bitter end.

How you managed to communicate that all in just a kiss — how you always managed to communicate so much with so little — should’ve been a quirk of its own honestly. But regardless of how, the comfort of those unspoken words was enough to spur him forward. Shigaraki brought down his pinky.

And you didn’t turn to dust. 

You pulled away in fact, just a little, your eyes fluttering open as a soft, tearful smile spread across your face.

“Tomura—”

He surged forward, all of that hesitation and fear from before vanished in an instant. He shoved your hands together forward, pressing you to the bed as he kissed you with new fervor. His free hand came to hold your face, full and tight, all five fingers scrambling up the length of your cheek, your temple, tangling tight into your hair.

You sobbed happily into his mouth as he pulled his other hand free from yours, running it all across your body, disintegrating your clothes on contact, and then bringing those fingers back up the same route of bare skin, fully in control.

He was just as quick to decay his own clothes as you reached forward to try and tear at the top button of his shirt, which, while haphazardly done, was still too secure for either of your patience. He needed to feel you, all of you. Every inch against every pad of his fingers for the very first time.

And possibly even the last.

He didn’t want to think about that now though. He just wanted to shove you up higher onto the center of the bed, shoving your legs open wide as he kissed down the expanse of your chest and stomach. As he buried himself into your center, the pads of his fingers squeezing painfully tight into the pudge of your thighs.

But you didn’t mind the pain. Not only because it surged the pleasure just that much further, but because it grounded you. Reminded you that this was real. It promised a world — no matter how distant or near-impossible it was in reality — where Tomura Shigaraki could be whole and happy. 

Where he could fully be with you.

Your legs strained against his grip, instinctually trying to close as his working tongue pushed you closer and closer to climax. It wasn’t going to take you long at all to reach that peak. After all, the intensity and emotion of the moment aside, it had been a long while since your last coupling. The weeks of recovering from his fight with Re-Destro, the full month you all spent fighting Gigantomachia. And of course, even before that, with the close quarters and stress that came from living on the run and in complete squalor, your escapades had become pretty few and far between. (It was hard to get in the mood when you hadn’t eaten or showered properly in over a week).

So yeah, suffice it to say you were pretty touch-starved at this point, the work of your fingers on lonely nights at the villa having absolutely nothing on Shigaraki’s skillful tongue. And the voraciousness with which he assaulted your sex certainly wasn’t slowing things down for you either.

He didn’t even need to slip his long, knowing fingers into you to have you coming undone — he wouldn’t want to right now anyway, completely losing himself in the way your thighs felt squeezed between his fingers, but that feel of his nails digging into you spurred you on in their own way, ripping a cry from your throat as you came hard under his lips.

Shigaraki smirked up at you, wiping the excess slick from his chin with the meat of his palm, “Missed that.”

You smiled back at him, your own tinged with a bit of sadness as he climbed up over you, hands running up your ribcage. Because you didn’t just miss this. You missed him. And you knew that feeling wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. In fact, it was just getting started.

His brows furrowed at your expression. He’d always been good at reading you, and it’s not like you were being particularly subtle, “You good?”

You chased the melancholy from your smile quickly, planting a happy peck at the corner of his mouth before showing him teeth, “I’m great.”

He hummed, a gentleness overtaking his own features as he stared down at you. Adoration, pure and whole and unrestrained, particularly as he brought a hand back up to cup your face. His fingers spread across the expanse of your skin greedily, his thumb dipping down into your mouth. 

They were small gestures, little things that he seemed the most eager to do with his newly-attained range of touch. But it was obvious that they were huge to him. They were a freedom and a comfort that he’d been chasing his entire life. Even if he didn’t know it.

He groaned as you wrapped your own fingers around his cock, guiding him eagerly to your entrance. You had to. As much as he obviously wanted to fuck you, he couldn’t bare to take his fingers off of you for a second. He’d settle for fucking the plush of your thighs if it meant that he could hold you fully in his hands for just a second longer.

You, of course, were not so willing to settle.

“God—fuuck yes,” he growled, low in his throat, as he sank slowly into you, eternally grateful that for once your patience was even more lacking than his.

You grinned up at him`, shifting your hands to settle on the hard curves of his hips, “That’s good, huh?”

It was all he could do to nod shakily, lip biting back a breathy whine and brows knitting hard, as he tried desperately not to blow his load immediately.

You hummed happily at the sight, bringing one of your hands up to run across his cheek and through his hair. You remembered thinking a few months ago just how much those fights with Gigantomachia and Redestro had hardened him, aged him. Foolishly, it had even had you questioning briefly if this would be the end of your relationship. If maybe the shift that occurred during his awakening would chasm too big a valley for you two to bridge.

Of course, in the privacy of the League’s quarters, off of the stages and away from all the new adoring fans (bandwagoners, you and Spinner sometimes like to joke), he had been the same old Tomura Shigaraki, if not a little more confident and level-headed. He still complained about how everyone sitting on his bed eating dinner while he was on strict bed rest was too loud, still invested himself fully and kicking ass at every little game – from video games to cards – they challenged him to in order to pass the time with a cocky little smirk on his face.

And right now, with his face flushed and mouth agape with pleasure, he still looked just as young and ready to take on the world as the day you met him.

Finally he started to rock into you, slow and deep. One of his hands slipped down to the crux of your neck, fingertips biting tight into that smooth skin as he pulled you closer and closer into him. The other found a tight, desperate purchase on the handle of your hip. He used the grip of both to pump harder and deeper into you with every snapping thrust.

Minus the dry spell the two of you had endured over the last couple of months, you and Shigaraki had, overall, had a lot of sex over the last year that you’d known him.

Like, a lot of sex.

Rough sex, soft sex, angry, and fun. And while the man who claimed to hate everything would of course be remiss to admit it, there had indeed been quite a lot of genuine, intense lovemaking mixed in there too. But this right now, with all of the feelings and newness and longing that came with every stroke and whisper?

If Tomura Shigaraki was in fact capable of love, you were positive that this was the representation of that.

His lips dropped hot against the shell of your ear, peppering desperate bites and kisses along the skin as a string of breathy babble spilled out between.

“God fuck, you’re so perfect. Feel so good. Every part of you, so good. So fucking perfect…”

Overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure, it was all you could do to just mewl out his name, “Tomura, Tomura, Tomura—!”

His hips rolled against you with every hard buck, stimulating your aching sex in the way he knew you loved. That would have you clenching and spilling around him over and over again in the way that he loved. You weren’t even sure if it was intentional at this point, or if you had memorized each other’s bodies so well that it just became an instinctual part of his movement. You certainly didn’t have the forethought to drag your nails up the curve of his spine in the way that had him cursing and speeding up immediately.

“F-Fuck, I’m not gonna last like that—” he growled out, rutting desperately into you in spite of his own warning.

“G-Good,” you breathed back, rolling your hips right back into his, “Don’t.”

“B-But—”

He couldn’t get the rest of the words out, his mouth overtaken by a deliciously loud moan instead as he hit that deep, spongy spot inside of you that was heaven for the both of you. You got the message anyway.

But he wanted to keep fucking you. But he wanted this to last.

But he never wanted this to end.

You tangled your hand through his locks, reveling in the fact that there was so much more to hold now, and yanked his head back hard so he’d look at you.

“But nothing,” you smiled through hot, huffing breaths, “You’re fucking crazy if you think this is our only round.”

He stared at you in complete awe for a moment, hips almost coming to a stop as he took in this moment, took in you and the way that you always seemed to know what he was thinking and what he needed, even when he didn’t. 

Even if he hadn’t had his own dreams for the future, looking at you now, reveling in all that you’d been through together and all that you’d done for him, thinking about all that you deserved… If he could destroy this rotten society just so that you could have the freedom to be half as happy as you looked in this moment for the rest of your life, he’d gladly fucking do it.

Shigaraki’s face mirrored yours quickly after, a wide lascivious grin spreading across his face. It was all teeth and joy and feral desire to absolutely fucking wreck you. And let himself pound into you with the most reckless abandon he could muster.

You cried out at the new punishing pace, nails pushing hard into his skin, and heels locking sharp around his waist, spurred by the desperate need to have him pound into you harder, deeper, faster. Until you were completely coming apart around him, with his own violent release following close behind.

About two hours later, when you’re lying blissed out, sticky, and half-asleep on Shigaraki’s bare chest, he told you to roll over onto your stomach.

You groaned in protest — while your spirit was eager to roll around the sheets with him as much as possible before the sunrise, your body was sore and spent.

“Not for that,” he said, nudging your shoulder, “Just trust me.”

There was still some visible exasperation as you finally gave in, joints and back aching as you moved them before they were ready. You rolled over onto your stomach, dropping your cheek into the mountain of pillows that awaited you.

Shigaraki followed, moving his body over yours and straddling your hips. You were about to scold him for tricking you when, rather than grinding himself into the curve of your ass or thighs, he simply sat down on your butt and brought his hands to the base of your back. Then he started to knead and you knew exactly what he was doing.

Many a time during your months on the run did you take it upon yourself to try and alleviate some of his stress. Of course one of his favorite ways (and yours too) of doing so was to fuck each other’s brains out. But there were also many times when that wasn’t exactly an option. Whether because there were others around or because he was elbow deep in work for their next operation.

At times like those, when he was hunched over a shitty, half-dead laptop he’d manage to scrounge up from a dumpster, or held his fingers to the bridge of his nose, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to fight off an impending headache from the constant pressures of responsibility — you’d usually come up behind him and rub his neck. 

It wasn’t like you made a big show of it or anything. Most of the time you’d just reach a single hand over to him and start to stroke his neck without a word. Not expecting him to say or do anything, not even expecting a thank you. You just wanted to do whatever you could. When it was just the two of you around whatever sorry excuse for a base you’d managed to find, or when you’d been lucky enough to be settled in a safehouse with private rooms, you’d manage to talk him into laying down on his stomach, much like this, and work knots that he could’ve sworn had been there since birth, right out of his back. 

He never said anything about it, never thanked you nor told you to stop, but in retrospect he did realize that it was one of the few things that managed to bring him even a smidgeon of peace over those many stressful months, that actually got him through it all. Particularly in the fights against Gigantomachia, where, the second the beast was asleep, you’d insist he lay his head down in your lap while you rubbed softly at his temples, lulling him near instantly to do the same.

It truly meant the world to him, even if he’d never admit it. A deep, foolishly sentimental part of him always wished that he could return the favor. 

And now he could. 

Of course… That didn’t mean he was any good at it.

“Pinching, you’re pinching,” you winced as his thumbs pressed together, unoiled, on a patch of your back awkwardly.

“Oh shit,” he released his grip, settling to just rub his fingers up and down your back slowly, “Sorry…”

“It’s fine. You just can’t do it that hard if you don’t have any oil or lotion, you know?”

His brows furrowed, “You always did it that hard without any of that crap and it felt fine.

You smirked back at him playfully, “That’s because I’m really good.”

He shot you a look, completely unimpressed.

“I liked what you were doing before,” you conceded. 

This was clearly something he wanted to do, and who were you to complain or judge when he was being so unabashedly giving? 

“When you were using your palms. Just pressing and kneading with your whole hands rather than trying to do any pressure point stuff is really nice.”

“Yeah, okay…” he nodded, concentration settling over his features as he followed instructions.

You sighed, burying your face back into the pillows as he ran those hot, calloused hands purposefully up and down your back. 

This was nice. 

Again, while he wasn’t hurting you anymore, the massage itself wasn’t particularly skillful. It did put you at ease though, the way his smell and presence, the way those hands — even when you could never feel them fully against you — always managed to put you at ease.

After at least thirty minutes passed and Shigaraki showed no sign of stopping his ministrations, you peaked back up at him.

“You don’t have to keep this up you know.”

He snorted, “Yeah I know.” 

And you should’ve expected that response. Because of course he knew. He wasn’t doing this out of obligation or anything. Tomura Shigaraki didn’t do anything he didn’t want to after all.

You rolled your eyes, “I just mean that you must be tired after all that. Don’t you want to sleep?”

“I’m gonna be asleep for the next four months. I think I’ll be good missing one night.”

The message behind those words was clear. He only had so much time to spend with you, he wasn’t going to waste even a second of it with something as stupid as sleeping.

You should’ve been flattered by that. And of course you were. And truth be told, you had the same mindset as him. You had no plans to sleep that night either, even if he had. But the reminder of his fate for the next four months brought a bitterness to your mouth that overpowered the sweetness of this opportunity.

“Sleep, huh?” you said doubtfully, “Is that what the Doctor is calling it?”

“I guess suspended animation,” he corrected himself, “Or whatever the fuck.”

Amongst other things. Hellish agony he believed was the way the Doctor so eloquently put it. But he’d chosen to spare you (and the rest of the League) those particular details.

Even without that knowledge though, you still weren’t thrilled by the prospect. Of course because you were going to miss him, but mostly because you trusted that fucking doctor about as far as he could throw you. Which, for that portly little creep, you were pretty sure wasn’t far.

Particularly, because now that the excitement and happiness you’d had for Tomura’s newfound quirk control (as well as the fog from your repeated orgasms) was starting to fade into something more grounded, a sneaky little question managed to worm its way into your head.

Had the Doctor been capable of “fixing” his quirk this entire time?

A loud pounding on the door suddenly broke the silence, at least two fists rapping. And then Twice’s muffled call of, “Alright you two, you’ve had your fun! Now come out and play with the rest of us! Take your time! Make babies if ya want!”

You snorted at the call. Shigaraki was substantially less entertained.

“Jiiiin!” Toga whined from the other side of the door, “Leave them alone! They want some privacy!”

Ah, so the two fists knocking must’ve both been Twice.

“But you missed Shigaraki too, Toga!”

“I know, but…” 

A stretch of silence. And then apparently Toga’s support for love was outweighed by how much she missed her friend. Because then two more fists started knocking on the door.

“Tomuraaaa, come ooouuuut!!” Toga cried, Twice starting up his own pounding on the door right along with them.

“Yeah, yeah— come out! Stay away !”

“I’ll kill them…” Shigaraki growled, glaring at the door heatedly.

You just giggled as you rolled over under him, dropping him to sit on your waist.

“Oh don’t be like that Tomura,” you cooed, reaching up to cup his cheek in your palm and turning him to look at you, “We should all go hang out. I’m not the only one who’s gonna miss you these next four months, you know.”

He sneered at the suggestion at first, wanting nothing more than to spend the entirety of these next twelve or so hours with his hands holding on to you as tight as possible.

But then he really got thinking about it. About them. 

Spinner, Toga, Twice, Compress, hell, even Dabi. There wasn’t going to be time to fuck around with them all once he woke up. They’d be going straight into action, into war. Into the future, wherever that may lead. This wasn’t just going to be his last guaranteed chance to enjoy time with you. It was his last chance to spend time with any of them, until they achieved their goals. And by the end of all that, who even knew how many of them would still be alive?

It was a weight he’d carried around with ease as they planned out their attack over the last couple of months, a weight he’d been carrying for the past year if he was being honest. But it never felt as heavy on his soul at this very moment.

You were right. Absolutely right.

How annoying, he thought with a grumble.

You smiled as you saw that shift on his face, the slight softness that always fell over him when he thought about the League, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

“Alright?” you pressed.

He sighed, “Yeah, yeah. Alright…” 

And then let the corner of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly as he looked down at you, so splayed and fucked out and pretty. He leaned down to press a long, but surprisingly chaste kiss on you, for someone that was still sitting atop your naked form with his own.

Because just because he was going to get up, didn’t mean he was going to be in any rush.

Caught up in the feel of each other, neither of you noticed the click of the door and Spinner’s voice announcing, startlingly clear, “Guys, the door is unlocked.”

“Ack— SPINNER!! ”

“Okay, you’ve got that all memorized?” Toga chirped, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor.

“Yeah, I guess.” Shigaraki, across from her, shrugged, strongly resisting the urge to tell her about how stupid this all was (again). 

“Great! So then we start in that first position, crossed arms,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest by example.

Shigaraki sighed and mirrored her.

“Alright! One, two, three!” she sounded off excitedly, before fluttering her hands eagerly and singing, “Misssss Maaaaaryyyyy Mack, Mack, Mack! All dressed in black, black, black…”

You grinned from your position on the couch, glass of wine in hand, as you watched the two. Shigaraki was pointedly not singing along with Toga, but he was matching her claps with impeccable accuracy.

The League had been just as stunned and excited to hear about Shigaraki’s new upgrade. Not to the point of immediately jumping on his dick, but that was obviously more than okay with him.

No, they were more interested in giving him a speedrun through all of the things he’d missed out on in life from not being able to grab it with all five fingers. Playground clap games that Shigaraki, as a boy, couldn’t say he ever played even before his quirk awakened, were apparently of the highest priority to Toga.

“With silver buttons, buttons buttons— Tomura, you’re not singing!”

“And I’m not gonna,” he grumbled back, but not stopping his hands, “Take the W as it is, or don’t take it at all.”

You laughed at the sight, a new glass of wine that you were sure Shigaraki would want by the end of this.

Mr. Compress read Shigaraki’s palms next. 

They supposed that this was technically something they could’ve done even before Shigaraki’s upgrade, but with how careful and particular he’d been with anybody getting anywhere near his hands, it definitely wasn’t something they had ever thought to give a go before now.

He decided to read the palm that hadn’t been marred by the fight with Redestro, for more “accuracy” (a reasoning that Shigaraki had openly scoffed at).

“Your love line is quite straight and short,” Compress explained, “Which indicates that you don’t have a lot of interest in love.”

“Booooo,” a red-faced Toga whined from her place on the floor between your legs, shooting Shigaraki an aggressive thumbs down.

You promptly grabbed the half-empty can of chuhai next to her foot, and moved it up to the side table out of her sight. Underage drinking was officially done for the night.

Unbothered, Mr. Compress continued his reading, running his mechanical finger along the top line of Shigaraki’s palm, “Since your love line begins below your middle finger though, it also means that when you do love, you’re quite selfish about it.”

You chuckled, “Hammer? Meet nail.”

“Oh shut up,” he waved you off with his free hand.

“Next is your head line, which represents the way you learn and communicate, as well as your overall intellectualism and thirst for knowledge.” Compress turned to the rest of the group, finger raised as he lectured.

Dabi, from his place leaning judgmentally against the wall across from them, huffed, “Alright, I agree with the Boss on this one. This is really stupid.”

Toga grinned at him, pointing teasingly, “You’re just saying that because you don’t have any more lines in your palm to read! Jelly!”

“I’m not—”

“Jelly!” Twice backed Toga up with a chant, “Jelly, jelly, jelly! Peanut butter !”

Dabi just sighed and returned to his nth beer of the night.

“You have a deep and long head line, that runs separate from your heart line,” Compress continued, “That means that you’re clear and focussed, with a great sense of adventure and enthusiasm for life.”

Shigaraki snorted, “Alright, now I know this is bullshit.”

You flicked his cheek scoldingly, “Just keep going.”

“I also see a singular cross in your heart line, which suggests that you carry some emotional crisis.”

Compress didn’t linger on that point. After all, everyone in this room was dealing with the same thing in one way or another.

“The lifeline is the most interesting in my opinion,” Compress explained, “As opposed to what you might think, it doesn’t have to do with the length of your life, but the quality of it. Yours runs close to the thumb and forks downwards, which means you’re often tired and a pessimist.”

Toga snickered a bit at that, “Still think it’s BS, Tomura?”

“I’m getting the distinct feeling you guys are doing this just as an excuse to insult me to my face.”

You gave his freehand a squeeze, “Oh we don’t need the pretense to do that.”

“ Oi. ”

“There’s a circle in the line too, which predicts great injury or hospitalization.”

The League looked at him pointedly, and he just rolled his eyes.

“The last detail about your life line is a curious one. It’s short and shallow,” Compress said, cocking his head in a way that clearly indicated that he didn’t exactly agree with it, “Which indicates that you’re easily manipulated by others.”

Your frowned. 

The rest of the League members pulled faces that clearly showed their similar disagreement with the reading. But you, thinking back to all his interactions with All for One and the Doctor, everything in his life that he’d described to you…

Well, you weren’t so sure.

“Pffft, like I said,” Shigaraki scoffed, gesturing for you to hand him his wine, “It’s all bullshit.”

Deliberately, Mr. Compress did not read Shigaraki’s fate line.

You weren’t sure when the night turned into the League taking turns with choosing tasks for Shigaraki to complete, but you weren’t going to complain. You were already looking forward to Toga’s next round after she’d screamed up into the security camera you all knew Skeptic was watching irritatedly through to get her some string for cat’s cradle.

Spinner’s turn was pretty simple though, and at first, not especially different then before. You thought at first that maybe that was by design, that Spinner just wanted to spend some time with Shigaraki the way he always had.

He wanted to play video games.

Of course, there was a twist.

“Fingers down.” Spinner scolded him for what had to be the fifth time in the last ten minutes, “Toga, I need chicken.”

“Yes, chef!” she chirped back happily.

“God, fucking—” Shigaraki growled, forcing his pinkies back down onto the controller against every instinct in his body.

Years of having to hold things in a particular way had caused him to develop a very particular controller grip. One that, once, back at the bar — god, that felt like it was so long ago now — several of you had tried to mimic, just for the hell of it. (Or more accurately, just to get his goat). And it had been hard . The general consensus had been that no normal human should be able to hold a controller like this, let alone hold a controller like this and be as good at video games as Tomura Shigaraki was. 

Now though, the shoe was on the other foot — or more accurately the controller was in the other hands — as you all forced Shigaraki to go a couple rounds of Overcooked while holding the pro controller like a normal fucking person. And it was not going well. 

“Stop dropping shit!” you yelled hysterically next to Shigaraki, “Do you see how many burritos we still need to make?!”

“Do you think I’m doing it on purpose?!” he shouted right back, possibly more worked up than you’d ever seen him.

Toga on the other side of him giggled. She and Spinner were having absolutely no trouble at all on their side of the kitchen, “Tomura, I thought you were supposed to be good at video games.”

“I am! I’m just not used to this grip— FUCK! ” he screamed out as his character once again fell off the map, throwing his controller down onto the carpet.

The room erupted in doubled over laughter and “woah woah woah’s”, over the tantrum the sorts of which none of you had seen since the early days back at the bar.

Maybe he wasn’t such a good sport after all.

With Twice’s request, even you had to admit that things were getting a bit ridiculous.

Twice slammed his elbow down onto the table, holding his palm open for Shigaraki to take, “Gimme all you got, boss! Go easy on me, please!”

Shigaraki, on the other hand, seemed the most enthusiastic about this one, placing his own elbow on the table and grabbing Twice’s hand tight in his own with a cocky grin. 

You suspected that the many beers he’d knocked back (not to mention the entire bottle of wine the two of you had killed together) played a decent role in that, but it was also impossible to deny that their dear leader was fiercely competitive, no matter the game.

“Ready?” you asked, looking between the two. They nodded, and you begrudgingly stepped further into your role as referee, clapping as you counted down, “Three, two, one— arm wrestle!”

The room blew up in a (small) chorus of screams and cheers.  Actually, even that was generous. As referee you were expressly forbidden from picking sides (Twice was very serious about that), and Compress and Dabi were too composed and too uninterested respectively to participate. It was just Spinner and Toga going wild and slamming their hands on the table as Shigaraki’s and Twice’s muscles strained against each other — although they were more than loud enough for the whole group.

“Go, Jin go!” Toga cheered rhythmically, “Go, Jin go!”

“Kick his ass, Shigaraki!” 

The match lasted a respectable amount of time, both sides putting up a pretty damn good fight. And while Twice was built like a tank and was no slouch either — he probably would’ve won this by a moderate margin a couple of months ago — Shigaraki’s month-long escapade with Gigantomachia had given him a strength and will that surpassed Twice’s own.

“Arrrrgh— damn it !!” Twice shouted as Shigaraki slammed his fist down into the table definitively, “Great game Shigaraki! Die!”

You chuckled as Twice got up from his seat, head dropped in defeat, then turned to Spinner, who was already rolling out his dominant shoulder.

“Next challenger,” you gestured to the seat, “You’re up.”

Dabi didn’t have any requests throughout the night (surprise, surprise), just a lot of eyerolls and snippy commentary. But he also didn’t ever split off from any of you, which made you consider that he may not have thought this was all as stupid as he claimed.

The part of the night he seemed to enjoy (or at least, not vocalize his annoyance or the group’s childishness over), the most, was when around 4 am rolled around. 

Out of ideas and exhausted, but absolutely refusing to go to bed, the League decided to take a particularly noisy and drunken nightwalk around the property (much to the dread of whichever resident’s window they passed). This quickly turned into an equally harebrained climb up onto the roof so that you could all watch the sun come up.

That sunrise was still a good hour or so away though by the time you all got settled up there, and as chatty, adrenaline-filled, and drunk as most of you were, the late hour and comforting breeze was starting to get to you all. 

Twice and Toga had long fallen asleep, heads resting together. Compress, with his hands folded over his stomach and Spinner, curling up tighter into a ball with every minute, were not far behind. Dabi’s eyes were closed, but he might’ve still been conscious. He didn’t make a sound either way.

Only Shigaraki seemed to be wide awake, staring up at the waning moon with a complex expression on his face. He looked like he was thinking hard, but also somewhat at peace. Grateful for this moment, but already mourning its inevitable end. Exhilarated by the future that began for him tomorrow.

Wondering just what exactly he’d be leaving behind in the past.

You watched this all cross his face, not shifting between expressions, but clearly feeling it all at once. Overwhelmed, and unprepared to process it all. The one thing that seemed to keep him grounded was the hand that held yours, tight and warm. Anytime tonight that his hands weren’t occupied with whatever silly ringer the rest of the League was putting through, he was threading those fingers right back with yours, savoring the one new experience that he truly wanted to indulge the most in. 

And you were more than happy to let him.

He shifted a bit in surprise as you nuzzled into his shoulder, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter in your own.

“You’re still awake,” he commented, voice horse with the sleep his body clearly wanted.

“So are you,” you mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, just breathing him in.

“Yeah, but you need sleep,” he chuckled, “Like I said, I’ll be having more than enough of it for the next four months.”

You stilled against him, frowning. 

Right. The next four months.

Shigaraki seemed to sense your shift in mood, and kicked himself. That was a stupid thing to mention again when you’d finally managed to put it out of your mind for a few hours, and when that fate itself was even fewer hours away.

He ran his thumb with a restlessness that was once reserved for his nails against his neck. Even with that itch seemingly gone for good from his life, Shigaraki was still a fidgety person by nature. Especially when uncomfortable.

“You guys will be busy,” he grumbled, “Planning the attacks, organizing your regiments, training… You’ll barely even notice I’m gone.”

You didn’t comment on the stupidity of that statement, even though it was a really, really stupid and patently untrue thing for him to say. Because frankly, it wasn’t what was on your mind at the moment, not the front of it anyway. Of course the fact that you were going to miss him and these days together was a constant parasite, gnawing and suckling in the back of your brain. But truly, your current concern was a bit less melancholy. Less abstract.

Shigaraki had full control over his quirk now. And it was great and beautiful and nothing short of a miracle of course, you wouldn’t trade this night and all the memories opened up by that particular door for anything in the world. And yet you could not fight that question that had first struck your mind the first moment you had to actually think about it.

Why now?

That question wrenched through you painfully, no matter how much you loved the feel and sight of his hand in your own. Because sure, Shigaraki had been out of touch with the Doctor ever since All for One’s arrest. But what about the last sixteen some years that he’d been at the personal beck and call of All for One and his ward? Why hadn’t he ever adjusted Shigaraki’s quirk then? Was it a matter of technology, a breakthrough in quirk alteration he only recently was able to make? Or was it something else? Was there something bigger going on here? 

What was he not telling you all?

Shigaraki looked down at you, giving that flat expression of his that you knew translated to concern. You looked up from your locked hands to meet his gaze. He stared into you, those deep pools of carmine that stood so hard against the rest of the world, now soft and imploring. Even more than they were for the League. This look was for you.

“Tomura—”

“It’s gonna be worth it.”

You paused, that newfound calm confidence in his voice silencing you in an instant.

“I know these next four months are gonna be hard for all of us. This war is gonna be hard for all of us,” he said, turning to stare back up at the stars, “But it’s all going to be worth it in the end. We’re gonna make a new world where you’re all able to live as you want to. To be free. And this power that the Doctor is giving me... That’s going to assure that it all happens.”

“And… You don’t think that you can do all that now?” you breathed, “You’ve gotten so strong already, Tomura. Maybe you don’t even need that power.”

He turned back to you with a small but sincere smile. The one that betrayed that deep down tenderness he always tried so earnestly to hide. That called his bluff, revealing that there were feelings other than hate in that cursed body of his.

The one that made your heart skip a beat.

“I don’t want to take any chances,” he said, bringing his free hand — all five fingers — to rest on your cheek, “Not when it comes to my comrades’ dreams.”

Not when it comes to you .

Those unspoken words were loud and clear.

You swallowed something tight in your throat, fighting the burn that threatened to overflow from your eyes, the worry that brawled to burst out from your chest and ruin everything. But you had no choice but to shove it all down.

Forcing a smile onto your face, you squeezed his hand tight.

“I understand.”

His own smile remained the same, although a bit of relief did seem to fall over his eyes. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple and stayed there, breathing as much of you in as he possibly could.

Shigaraki had made up his mind. He was going to go through with this. And there was nothing you could say, no concern you could voice or ultimatum you could give that would change his mind. This decision was beyond his own wants and dreams at this point. It was for something far more important to him, even if he’d never admit it.

This was for all of you.

And who were you to stand in the way of that?

The fears wouldn’t ease with time, the nagging in the back of your head wouldn’t be forgotten through training or planning or anything else that you could do in the next four months to try and drown it out. But you just had to suck it up. You had to support him.

You could talk about your fears and the Doctor and any secret ambitions he may have after this ordeal. After the war even. You could talk about anything then, really. It was only four months after all. 

And the two of you would soon have all the time in the world.

LoV wins

Reblogs appreciated but please do not repost/reupload