Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 9) - A Shigaraki X F!Reader Fic
Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 9) - 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
There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it, and lately it feels like the thing that’s wrong with your house is you. You’re constantly uneasy, at work and at home, to the point where Phantom glues herself to your side and cries when you try to leave. Tomura hovers. You can tell he wants things from you – more touches, more kissing, more sex – but with half the neighborhood out hunting conjurers, the insect deliveries have mostly dried up. Most of the time, mustering up a voice and a set of hands is the most he can do.
The conjurer hunt is on. Keigo’s taking time off from work, and whatever Spinner and Jin usually do during the day, they’ve put it on hold. Every morning, you or Aizawa or Jin’s mom gives the three of them and Atsuhiro a ride to the train station, where they get on separate trains, each taking a different route to the same destination. They’re checking cities and towns off the list, one by one, starting close to home and working their way outwards. They get back later and later every day.
Jin’s mom doesn’t like it. Magne doesn’t like it. Dabi especially doesn’t like it, given the clouds of smoke that are constantly billowing from Keigo’s house, and eventually you and Hizashi are dispatched to deal with it. Hizashi’s there for the intimidation factor. You’re not sure why you’re involved. “You’re close with Keigo,” Hizashi says with a shrug, when you ask him. “Hard to tell, but Dabi’s not thrilled with how things have been going there lately. Knowing you and Keigo might talk about him might make him behave a little better.”
“Oh.”
“That’s the theory, anyway,” Hizashi says. He bangs on the door with a closed fist. “Open up, Toasty. We need to talk.”
“Fuck off.”
“No can do. You’re about to get the fire department called on you,” Hizashi says. “How are you going to explain that one to your human when he gets home?”
“Like I’d know. He’s never here.” Dabi’s face appears in the front window, and a moment later the door cracks open. “He saw his first chance to get away from me and bolted.”
You can’t stop the incredulous laugh that sneaks out of your mouth. “He’s out there hunting your conjurer. What about that says he’s trying to get away?”
“I didn’t ask him to do that.”
“No, he volunteered.” Hizashi leans hard against the door and shoves it open. “You’re acting even dumber than the guy across the street, and that’s really saying something.”
“Hey,” you say listlessly. “Don’t talk shit about my ghost. He came up with the plan.”
“The plan that might get my human killed,” Dabi says.
“The plan that might save your ass,” Hizashi corrects, flicking Dabi in the forehead and ignoring the smoke that starts to leak into the air. “Enough with this little fit you’re throwing. Things are this way with your human because you made them this way. Your human treats you different than she treats her ghost because of you. If you want any of that to change, you need to get it together.”
“I’m not embodying,” Dabi says. “You can’t make me.”
“You can do better even if you don’t embody yourself,” you say. Dabi makes a disparaging noise. “Not lighting the house on fire would be a good start.”
“Why do you do that, anyway?” Hizashi is fully inside Keigo’s house now, and even though you know it’s going to drive Tomura up the wall, you follow him in. “Oof, this place smells. Have you ever heard of air freshener?”
You survey the front room of Keigo’s house. It’s messy. There’s a basket of laundry sitting on the couch, unfolded but clean as evidenced by the used dryer sheet sticking out of a sock on top. While Hizashi continues to hold forth on the odor of the house, you investigate further, checking out the kitchen. It’s also messy. There are clean dishes in the dishwasher and dirty dishes in the sink, and based on the state of the stove, Keigo’s been living on instant noodles, frozen vegetables, and not much else. You think of the time you were sick, of Tomura’s clumsy but well-intentioned efforts to help, and feel an unexpected wave of sadness.
It crystallizes into resolve a moment later. You head back to the front room and target Dabi directly. “Get in here. You’re going to learn how to do the dishes.”
“What?”
Dabi sounds baffled, and Hizashi is hooting with laughter. You raise your voice to be heard over him. “You want things to be better with Keigo, you have to do stuff,” you say. “Just not burning down the house isn’t enough. You have to help out. Don’t just say you want things to change. Make them change.”
“Like a man,” Hizashi says, still cackling. “This is what real men do.”
Dabi looks skeptical. You weigh the risk of the statement you’re considering, then decide to hell with it. “Tomura knows how to do all this stuff already.”
It’s quiet for a second. “If your useless virgin of a ghost can do it, so can I,” Dabi states, which sets Hizashi off again. “Teach me how.”
You’re tempted to tell him that Tomura figured it out on his own, but you also don’t want Keigo to have to deal with some of the mistakes Tomura made. “Let’s start with the dishwasher.”
After the dishwasher, you go through proper dishwashing technique, stressing the importance of cleaning up whatever mess gets made in the process. “It’s not helping if there’s still a mess afterward,” Hizashi advices from the kitchen table, where he’s going through Keigo’s record collection. “Shou and me went through that with cleaning the litterbox. It was bad.”
Dabi bitches his way through the dishes, but you think he’s grasped the basics. After that, you move onto laundry – or rather, Hizashi moves on to laundry, because you get a brief flash of what Tomura will do when he finds out you’ve been touching Keigo’s and possibly Dabi’s underwear and decide you don’t want to deal with that. While they’re working on it, you head back across the street to retrieve a spare air freshener from your house. Tomura pounces on you the instant you step through the gate. “What are you doing over there?”
“Trying to teach Dabi some life skills so Keigo doesn’t have to live in a dungeon,” you say. Tomura’s more materialized than he’s been in a while, just slightly more than insubstantial as he tangles himself around you. “I should be done soon.”
“You’re not going back.”
“I’m going back,” you say.”
“No, you’re not!”
“I am, and here’s why. Keigo is my friend. He’s trying to help everybody. You don’t care about everybody, but I do, and I don’t think my friend should have to live in a house like that with a ghost that treats him that badly.” You dig up an air freshener, plus a scented candle, ignoring Tomura’s attempts to reel you back in. “The only reason Dabi’s going along with it is because I told him that you know how to do this stuff already.”
It’s quiet for a second. “He’s not better than me,” Tomura says.
“You’re better than him. Keigo and Hizashi didn’t have to come over here and teach you how to do the laundry.” You head for the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
Tomura entangles you again, because Tomura’s an asshole, but he lets you go before you reach the gate. When you get back to Keigo’s house, Dabi and Hizashi are there, with a pile of folded laundry between them and identical weird looks on their faces. “What did you say to him?” Dabi demands. “He’s so full of himself –”
“Yeah, I haven’t experienced this level of concentrated smugness in a while,” Hizashi notes. He gives his head a shake, then shrugs it off. “You got the goods?”
You hand off the air freshener and the candle. “Light this up and start praying. I’m not sure how much of a dent it will make, but it’s better than nothing.”
You’re not really sure how well your lessons and Hizashi’s have stuck, and you’re not sure how Keigo’s going to feel about the fact that you were both in his house, bullying his ghost. You don’t even have a chance to warn him, since you’re not the one picking he and the others up from the train station tonight, and you find yourself watching anxiously from your front window as Keigo trudges up the stairs and into his house. “What are you worried about?” Tomura asks. “You did him a favor. He should thank you.”
“I shouldn’t have gotten into their relationship like that.” The idea of someone trying something similar on you and Tomura makes you almost as uncomfortable as the idea of raising the topic of you and Tomura in a formal relationship. “He might be mad. I’d understand if he was mad.”
“He should be grateful,” Tomura says. Your phone buzzes in your pocket. “I’ll make him thank you if he doesn’t.”
It’s Keigo’s number. You gulp, unlock your phone, and start reading the texts.
Keigo: so uh
Keigo: hypothetically
Keigo: did you go to my house while I was gone and replace Dabi with Hizashi in disguise
Keigo: because like
Keigo: the laundry got folded
Keigo: the kitchen is clean
Keigo: when I got inside he stole all my clothes so he could put them in the washing machine
Keigo: nothing is on fire except a SCENTED CANDLE
Keigo: what did you DO
Tomura is reading over your shoulder, and as he reaches the end of the text string, he bursts out into raspy laughter. Something twists in your chest hard and painful enough to knock the air out of your lungs. You don’t think you’ve ever heard Tomura laugh before, and you’re almost angry with yourself for how much you like how it sounds. “What’s funny?”
“He stole his human’s clothes.” Tomura snickers. “If I tried that on you you’d leave and never come back.”
You’re temporarily frozen with horror at the thought, but you break out of it by force to text Keigo back. Sorry. Me and Hizashi went over there because the house was a little too on fire, and when we saw what a mess it was we decided to try to help out.
So you did it, Keigo texts back. He’s saying he did it.
We told him what to do, but he did most of it, you explain. Sorry.
Don’t be sorry. Just like – how? He never does this shit. I have to beg him not to cut my brake lines and burn down the house.
You’ve got theories, but nothing definitive, you glance at Tomura, wondering if he knows, but either he doesn’t or he’s not telling. I’m not sure, you text. He really stole your clothes?
Two seconds after I got inside. I barely shut the door in time. Keigo texts again while you’re trying not to have a thing over Tomura’s renewed laughter. I would have texted you about it sooner except I was naked and it would have been weird.
Now you’re laughing, but Tomura isn’t. “He owes you now. You should make him do something.”
“I’d say we’re even.” You laugh-react to Keigo’s text and put your phone away. “He and everybody else here helped me a lot when it came to you. I want to help them out, too.”
“Him telling you things isn’t the same as you dealing with his bastard scar wraith all day,” Tomura says. “You did more. He owes you.”
“That’s not how it works,” you say. “People help each other for a lot of reasons. It’s not usually just so the other person will owe them. Is that why you help me sometimes?”
You regret the question the instant you ask it – enough that you take it back, out loud. “Sorry. Don’t answer that.”
“I –”
“Don’t.” You know you’re not handling this well. You just don’t know what else to do.
Realizing that you’ve got feelings for Tomura has been a disaster on every possible level. You thought admitting it to yourself might make things easier, but instead it’s unlocked a whole new circle of hell – one where you want things from him that you’ve got no business wanting, things you know he can’t give you, things he wouldn’t give you in a million years. Not being able to touch him at all makes it worse. You’ve never thought of yourself as being touch-starved, but there’s not really another word for it. You miss the cold. You miss him. And it’s pathetic, so you do everything you can to not think about it. The last thing you want is for someone to ask.
But apparently you’re not hiding it as well as you think you are, because Mr. Yagi takes one look at you the next morning and motions you into his office. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” you say, but it comes out watery and awful. “I’m fine, sir. It’s just, uh –”
What should you say? That it’s the time of the month? If you say that, Mr. Yagi will run for the hills, and you shouldn’t lie to him. “It’s ghost stuff,” you say, and Mr. Yagi nods sagely. “Things in the neighborhood are – hard right now.”
“I have something that might help,” Mr. Yagi says encouragingly. “Izuku’s completed his review of the files you’ve collected, and he’s hoping to present his findings to you in person.”
“Oh,” you say. “Um, okay. I don’t know if the neighborhood –”
“You’ll come to our neighborhood,” Mr. Yagi says. You blink. “This evening, for dinner. Izuku will present his findings to you and you can eat a meal in a place that isn’t so obviously haunted. Inko tells me that constant observation wears on a person.”
You’re so used to it by this point that you barely notice. It’s the explanations that start to wear on you. Lately Tomura’s been interested in what you’re eating, and you’ve been stuck trying to describe taste to someone who can really only grasp texture. It would be nice to go one night without having to explain that lettuce tastes like green but salmon doesn’t taste like pink. Mr. Yagi raises his eyebrows. “Well?”
“Thank you, sir,” you say. “I’d like that.”
“Excellent!” Mr. Yagi beams at you. “You have my address from the office party two years ago, yes? We haven’t moved.”
“Um – you might need to send it again.” You have a bad habit of deleting your old texts.
Mr. Yagi sends you his address and you add it to his contact in your phone. And while you’re in your contacts, you realize that there’s a contact you’re missing – and a ghost who’s going to have questions when you don’t show up after work. You still haven’t gotten around to getting Tomura a phone, which means you’re going to need someone to go talk to him. Somebody he’s not going to try to kill. You’d send Spinner or Keigo, but they’re both on the mission, and introducing Hizashi into the equation is a recipe for disaster. If you ask Shinsou for help, Hizashi and Aizawa will murder you. That just leaves –
Wondering what in the hell you’re doing, you text Magne for the first time ever. Hi. Would you be okay letting Tomura borrow your phone for a second?
You’re not entirely sure what Magne does during the day. Whatever her job is, it’s remote work – but it must be a slow period, because she texts you back right away. What does he need it for?
I won’t be back until late and I need to let him know.
Magne sends you a truly bizarre collection of emojis. That’s so cute! What time should I bring it over?
Noon, you say. Thanks, Magne. I owe you one.
A little bird name Himiko tells me you have a Sephora credit card. I’ll be expecting a top-tier birthday gift.
The ghosts don’t have real birthdays, so they celebrate either the day they were summoned or the day they were embodied. You’re not sure which one Magne picked, but Spinner definitely knows. You’ll ask him. You got it.
Your lunch break starts at noon, and your phone rings from Magne’s number at approximately 12:02. “You’re on speaker,” Magne shouts at you. Then: “I’ve got your human on the phone! She wants to talk to you. Let me in the yard!”
“Just throw it,” Tomura shouts back.
“This is an iPhone! I’m not throwing it anywhere!”
“I don’t care what kind of phone it is. You’re not coming in my yard.”
“Tomura,” you call out, trying to simultaneously be loud and keep any of your coworkers from overhearing this nightmare, “go up to the fence and borrow the phone from Magne. And don’t run away with it. Otherwise I’m going to have to buy her the entire Sephora franchise for her birthday.”
Magne cackles at that, but when she speaks, she’s not talking to you. “There you are! It’s a shame you’ve been hiding in that house all this time. You’re much cuter when you’re – you know, all there.”
“I’m not cute,” Tomura says. You’re smiling to yourself for about three seconds before he speaks up again. “My human said I’m pretty.”
Based on the cacophony on the other end of the line, Magne’s phone mission picked up an audience. Or maybe she gave it an audience. You can hear Hizashi cackling like a goblin, Shinsou snorting with laughter, and some squeaky little Eri giggles, which would all be really funny if it was happening to anybody else. Tomura’s on the same page as you are about it. “Why are you laughing?”
“She’s not wrong,” Himiko says from somewhere in the offing. The whole neighborhood is there, apparently. “You’re really pretty, Tomura! It’s only funny because boys usually say that to girls, not the other way around.”
“Honestly, we should use it the other way around more often,” Hizashi says. He projects his voice at a volume that makes your ears start ringing through the phone. “I for one could stand to be called pretty at least four times a day.”
He’s speaking so loudly that Aizawa can probably hear him from their house at the top of the street. “Dad, that’s gross,” Shinsou complains.
“I think it’s nice,” Eri chimes in. “I like being pretty. My hair and my eyes look like Tomura’s, so Tomura must be pretty, too!”
“Okay,” you say loudly, trying to regain control of the situation, “my lunch break’s not forever, and I really do need to talk to Tomura, so –”
“Of course! Shoo, shoo!” Magne hopes into action. You’d better start saving for Magne’s birthday gift yesterday. “Here. The phone. I’ll be in my house. Just shout when you’re ready to give it back!”
“I’ll just throw it. That’s faster.”
“He won’t throw it,” you say. Magne makes some kind of agreeing sound and leaves. Tomura must have the phone now, but he’s not saying anything. “Are you there?”
“Am I supposed to say you’re pretty?”
You facepalm with the hand that’s not holding the phone. “No,” you say. “Not unless you think so. I said you were pretty because that’s what I think. And that’s not why I called you.”
“Why did you call me?”
You brace yourself. “I won’t be back until later tonight. Later than usual. I wanted to let you know.”
“Why?”
“I’m meeting someone who has information. About the second conjurer.”
“Who?” Tomura’s voice darkens so abruptly that a chill goes down your spine. “I don’t need you to tell me. I’ll find them. I’ll –”
“It’s my boss’s son. He’s fifteen. He’s been looking at the same documents I have, except he actually has time to read them.”
It’s quiet for a second. “You could have said it was a kid,” Tomura says reproachfully, and you almost laugh. “Your boss the ghost has a kid?”
“I don’t really know how that worked.” You don’t want to know, either, and you really don’t want Tomura asking questions about it, so you change the subject fast. “I’m going over there after work and I’ll be back when I can. Are you okay to feed Phantom, or should I ask someone to –”
“I’ll do it. She’s our dog.” Tomura cuts you off. “Don’t be stupid. And be careful.”
You’re tempted to point out that being careful is most likely rolled in with not being stupid, but you keep your mouth shut. A moment later Tomura speaks up again. “Come back fast. I miss you when you’re not here.”
“I will,” you say, trying not to implode. “I, um – I miss you too. Please don’t throw Magne’s phone.”
“Fine.” Tomura hangs up. You need to get Tomura a phone. You also need to teach Tomura phone etiquette, like not hanging up without saying goodbye. Except he said he missed you, which – what was that? Was it a guilt trip? Tomura’s never tried to guilt-trip you before, and he’s not subtle in general. If that’s what he was doing, you’d see it coming a mile away, which means that this wasn’t a guilt-trip. In fact, he took the news that you won’t be back until later fairly well. The weird feeling you’re getting is because it was a normal conversation. The kind of conversation you’d have with a boyfriend who wasn’t crazy. Most of your boyfriends have been crazy.
Tomura isn’t your boyfriend. You’re being weird. You text thank-you to Magne again, drop a line to Spinner to ask when Magne’s birthday is, and head back inside to grab your lunch. It’s a nice day. It might be nice to eat outside.
At least that’s what you think, until Nakayama drops down on the bench next to you. “Who was that on the phone?”
“None of your business.” You grit your teeth as Nakayama pops open a salad in an excruciatingly loud plastic clamshell package. “You were eavesdropping?”
“Nobody used to call you,” Nakayama says matter-of-factly. “Honestly, you seemed like the type who’d bang your boss.”
You almost choke on your sandwich. “But now Mr. Yagi seems kind of like your dad. Not in a daddy way, just a literal dad,” Nakayama continues. “So who was on the phone? Why do you miss them?”
“No one. Go away.”
“Is it your boyfriend?” Nakayama asks. “I’d say that to my boyfriend if he was clingy. Is your boyfriend clingy?”
“It’s not my boyfriend,” you say. You’re pretty sure your face is on fire. “Don’t you have anywhere else to be? I thought – uh, I thought you and Woods from the DA’s office were a thing.”
“We are. But he was being judgy about one of my cases, so I ditched him for today.” Nakayama crunches down on a bite of salad. “I’m surprised you knew that! You don’t usually care about office gossip.”
You don’t. But you’re desperate to get out of this conversation without having to think or talk any more about Tomura. “I pay attention, but I’m sort of behind, I think. Can you catch me up?”
Nakayama grins at you around a mouthful of lettuce. “I thought you’d never ask!”
Asking about gossip is going to be your new go-to for avoiding talking about your personal life with your coworkers. Nakayama talks straight through lunch, and afterwards you throw yourself into your work, doing everything you can to avoid thinking about Tomura and what Tomura said and what the actual hell is happening there. You end the day a half-day ahead of your inbox, and you duck out early, swinging by the store to pick up some flowers to bring as a gift for your hosts. And then you sneak into another store, to pick up something for someone else.
You’ve been to Mr. Yagi’s house before, but it was a while ago. The neighborhood you’re driving through feels mostly unfamiliar. The houses are medium-sized, but on big lots, and you know from your homebuying exploits that this much space costs a ridiculous amount of money. The land one of these houses is built on probably costs as much as your property and your house put together. The last time you were here, you remember thinking somewhat uncharitably that Mr. Yagi must have family money. You’re even more confused now that you know he’s a ghost.
Mr. Yagi’s house is yellow with green trim, bright and pretty. It feels friendly when you walk up the front steps, and the doorbell’s ring somehow sounds cheerful. Mr. Yagi opens the door, smiling. “Come in! What are these –”
“For you,” you say. Your parents might not have been very affectionate, but they made sure you had manners. Mr. Yagi accepts the flowers. “Thank you for hosting me.”
You take off your shoes and make your way into the house after Mr. Yagi. The rest of the house feels just as friendly as it looks. Whatever’s being cooked smells really good, and Mr. Yagi’s wife smiles at you though a cloud of steam when you approach to ask if you can help. “I have it under control. And I have my assistant,” she says, elbowing Mr. Yagi lightly. “Go out to the backyard, if you’d like. Izuku’s waiting.”
You make your way through the house and onto the back porch, which overlooks a garden about ten times as pretty as yours. You can’t help feeling a surge of envy, which is only partially helped by reminding yourself that this garden’s had a lot more time to grow than yours has, and that this family doesn’t have to worry about buying delicate or expensive plants for fear that a ghost will get impatient and kill them in order to materialize fully. The only shadow in the garden comes from a large, lush shrub with purple-green leaves that’s resisting every effort made by Mr. Yagi’s son to extract it from the ground.
You come closer. “Do you need help?”
“No,” Izuku says, out of breath. “I don’t want to chop it down, but it has to go. It’s invasive.”
“Oh,” you say. “Did you know that when you planted it?”
“We think it was mislabeled,” Izuku says. “Or I read the label wrong, or something. I don’t want to kill it, and I think I can get it out alive, but we can’t plant it anywhere else.”
Something occurs to you. “If I help you get it out alive, can I have it?”
“Dad said you have a garden, but why would you want – oh!” Izuku breaks off suddenly, grinning. “Based on the size of this bush and its relative age compared to the lifespan of similar plants, it contains about ten years of life energy! Ghosts usually burn through energy between forty-eight and fifty-five times faster than living things, depending on their power level, and Dad said your ghost is extremely strong, so if we assume a consumption rate of seventy times faster than a living thing and if you take this tree and he uses it, that should give him roughly two weeks of complete embodiment. Longer if he stays incorporeal sometimes.”
You can only stare at him. He keeps talking. “When Dad was still a ghost, he went through life-force really fast. Mom says he kept wanting to do things for her – like hold the door open, or pull out her chair so she could sit down, or carry her groceries. One time her car got stuck in the snow and he picked it up and carried it for her. Oh, I guess that’s another thing! If a ghost is exceeding the physical abilities of their embodied form, the consumption rate doubles. What kind of things does your ghost like to do?”
“I have a dog and they like to play together,” you say. There’s no way you’re bringing up the rest of it with a fifteen-year-old. “How did you find out about all this stuff? Is there an equation or something?”
“Sort of! I can show you if you want. Of course, it’ll be approximate, since there’s not a great way to measure power levels and you kind of just have to vibe it, but it should tell you about how much complete materialization time you’ll get. What kind of things does your ghost usually drain?”
“Small plants. Weeds or mushrooms, and sometimes blackberry bushes,” you say. “And the people in the neighborhood bring us bugs for him to use.”
“He must be conserving power really well if he can get complete materialization from insects,” Izuku says excitedly. “Do you think there’s any way I could meet him? I haven’t met a real ghost in ages, and one that powerful –”
“Izuku,” Mr. Yagi says warningly from the porch. “That ghost isn’t safe for most people to interact with. And his reaction to you would be difficult to predict.”
“He’d know I’m not a threat. He could read it off my aura,” Izuku says. He looks at you and explains before you can ask. “I’m half-ghost. Mom got pregnant with me before Dad embodied himself full-time.”
Your first thought, as incredibly stupid as it is, is that you might need your box of condoms after all. Your second thought is that you really didn’t need to know that much about your boss’s sex life. Then you remember that Mr. Yagi can see Tomura’s marks on you and decide that it’s even. “Um, what does that mean? Being half-ghost.”
“Like being an embodied ghost, but I didn’t have to drain anybody,” Izuku says. “I can see other ghosts, and feel what they feel. I need to blink, but my eyes still do the thing Dad’s eyes do, so I have to wear contacts. And sometimes when I dream I can see into the world between.”
You sit there with that for a moment. Izuku looks to Mr. Yagi. “Once I get the butterfly bush out, she’s going to take it home so her ghost can use it. Did you know he’s only been using bugs?”
“I didn’t,” Mr. Yagi says. He glances at you, and you will your face not to flush. “We’ll all work together to dig up the bush after dinner. It’s time to wash up.”
You follow Mr. Yagi and Izuku into the house, feeling like you handled things well. It’s not until you’re washing your hands that it occurs to you that Izuku, who’s half ghost, can almost certainly see Tomura’s goddamn handprints all over you. It takes you way too long to muster up the courage to do anything but bolt directly out the door and drive until you run out of gas. But you make it out to the table and sit down, avoiding everyone’s eyes. You’re sitting with two ghosts. They can see the handprints. They know. You’re screwed. There’s no way they’ll let you have the butterfly bush now.
Mr. Yagi’s wife reaches across the table and pats your arm. “It’s all right,” she says, and you look up to find her smiling. “I’ve got them, too.”
You can’t see handprints on her, but she must have them, if she was involved with Mr. Yagi before he was embodied. You’ve never met anybody other than Keigo who was involved with their ghost when it was still a ghost, and you feel yourself relax a bit, just like you do when you and Keigo hang out. You manage a smile in response, then pick up your utensils and start eating. The food tastes really good. And it’s nice to know that you’re not going to have to spend twenty minutes explaining why cheese comes in different shapes, colors, and sizes without becoming something other than cheese.
You have to explain other stuff, though. Izuku has questions. “How many ghosts are in your neighborhood? Are they all adults or are some of them kids? Was your house built before the rest of the neighborhood or is it just the only house with a ghost in it?” He uses the pause provided by your answers to inhale half the food on his plate, then jumps back into the breach with even more questions. “Dad said there was a scar wraith. Have you met him? Scar wraiths are technically half-embodied ghosts, right? How many of his powers does he still have? Which of the former ghosts on your street is the most powerful? Do you think my dad could beat Magne or Atsuhiro or Hizashi in a fight?”
Mr. Yagi chokes on a sip of water. “I won’t be fighting any ghosts in that neighborhood. My ghost-fighting days are long over.”
“You used to fight ghosts?” you ask.
“Yes,” Mr. Yagi says. “That’s what I was summoned for.”
You want to ask. You really, really want to ask, but you don’t want to pry. Mr. Yagi’s wife finally elbows him. “Just tell her, Toshi.”
Mr. Yagi sighs. “When we first spoke of this, I mentioned that some conjurers don’t bind ghosts. Rather, they form mutually beneficial alliances – sometime simply to extend their lives, sometimes in an effort to do good. The conjurer who summoned me was named Shimura Nana. She hoped to do good, and I wanted to help her. Together we pursued evil conjurers and unquiet ghosts, ending their reigns of terror wherever we could.”
He glances guiltily at you. “I believe we once crossed paths with Hizashi, from your neighborhood. My master judged there to be greater threats than him.”
Hizashi wouldn’t like hearing that. Maybe you’ll tell him the next time he tries to scare you for kicks. But there’s a different question you’re considering. “How do you kill a ghost?”
“We’ll get to that,” Mr. Yagi says. “In any case, as the years passed, my master and I came into contact with the same conjurer over and over again. He was interested not in short-term havoc, but in long-term destruction, and he chose his ghosts accordingly. Many of the worst ghosts my master and I faced had been captured by him – taken as children, isolated for decades, their power growing unchecked until it outgrew the haunt containing it.”
Unease twists in the pit of your stomach. You’ve heard a story like that before. The one you were told was about Eri, but when you consider the details – the length of time, the complete isolation – it sounds like someone else, too. “These ghosts had no chance to make a bargain with their conjurer,” Mr. Yagi continues. “It was likely never explained to them why they had been imprisoned in this world. Many ghosts are curious about the human world, initially, and form opinions once they’ve been allowed to explore and interact with it. By the time this conjurer’s ghosts are allowed to interact with the world, they’ve grown to despise it as a prison. They destroy everything in their path, until they’re stopped.”
“Dad stopped a lot of them,” Izuku says.
“His master called it merciful,” Mr. Yagi’s wife – she’s told you to call her Inko – says. She looks troubled. “I don’t know about that.”
“There aren’t any left in the country. My master and I made sure.” Mr. Yagi folds and unfolds his napkin. “Ghosts may not approach the world with the same view of mortality as humans do, but it still takes time to create such a violent, hateful ghost. We were certain we’d found them all. And then –”
Suddenly you’re certain you know what he’s going to say. “You found my house.”
“It has every hallmark of our enemy’s work,” Mr. Yagi says. “An immensely powerful ghost, firmly entrenched in a house that can barely contain it. How long has he inhabited that house?”
“A hundred and ten years.”
“That fits!” Izuku says excitedly. He gets up from the table and bolts down the hallway, coming back a moment later pushing a wheeled whiteboard that you’re pretty sure disappeared from the conference room at work. “So! Thanks to the map Mr. Aizawa made, and the list of identities you found, I’ve been able to track where this conjurer’s been over the last two hundred years. A lot of the haunts have been destroyed, but nothing gets built there again, so they’re easy to find. The conjurer starts out way to the north, two hundred years ago. He binds a ghost to an old temple, and sixty years later, the ghost breaks out. Did you get that one, Dad? Do you remember?”
Mr Yagi nods. “Okay,” Izuku says. “Seven years later, he’s right here. Just a little ways south. This time the ghost is in an abandoned palace. That one only lasts twenty years before the haunt gets destroyed, and Dad gets that one, too. Seven years after that, the conjurer goes big and summons a ghost to haunt this entire mountain range by binding different parts of it into different caves and cabins –”
It would take an idiot not to see the pattern that’s emerging. The conjurer moves steadily south, spending seven years in each location – no more, and no less. In each location he leaves behind a haunted house with a lonely ghost, a ticking time bomb that won’t go off until long after everyone’s forgotten it was there. When he reaches the border, he turns around and heads north again, still spending seven years in each location. “Why seven years?” you ask. “If he’s worried about being caught, shouldn’t he switch it up?”
“Summoning and binding ghosts take time,” Inko says. “If it’s not done well, the ghosts can get out. And this conjurer doesn’t want his ghosts to get out.”
Yeah, no kidding – if they can get out, they won’t go crazy like he wants them to. Izuku keeps going over the map, seven years and a few miles at a time. Then he stops. “Here there’s a big gap,” he says. “In distance and in time. He doesn’t show up again until fourteen years later, and he’s way too far north. Plus, his name is wrong. You were right about how he steals names from people he knew in his previous identity to build the new one, but his name in the new town isn’t related at all to the last one.”
“It’s an insult to my master,” Mr. Yagi says. The scowl on his face is way too scary for your liking. “Shimura Tenko.”
You remember that name from the files. “So what happened? Did he just take a break?”
“After ninety years of doing the same thing? No way,” Izuku says. He opens his mouth, closes it, and turns to Inko. “Mom spotted it. Mom should say.”
Inko smiles at him, then turns to face you. “Look at the space that’s missing,” she says quietly. “There should be a haunt somewhere here.”
You look at the spot she’s circling on the map and your heart sinks. “We’re not the only city around here,” you say hopelessly. “It could be any of those –”
“We checked. There isn’t.” Izuku is bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “The guy my dad fought is the same guy who summoned your ghost. And it took him a while. Either your ghost really fought or really tried to escape, because the conjurer never spent more than seven years anywhere else. He spent fourteen years here.”
Your heart is racing. You look to Mr. Yagi. “How did you and your master not find him?”
“There was nothing to find,” Mr. Yagi says. “Every other haunt became a place of violence and terror, the instant the ghosts began to attain their full power. There were incidents, accidents, mysterious deaths – things that signal the presence of a ghost. There was no such thing in your house.”
No, there wasn’t. You checked. If there had been any sign of trouble, you wouldn’t have bought it. “What I don’t understand,” Inko says, “is why your ghost didn’t turn out like the others. From what Toshinori says, your ghost radiates malevolence to such a degree that no one’s stayed long inside the house. The isolation is what’s supposed to drive them crazy, and that would make him more isolated, not less.”
“That’s a weird move for a ghost with a lot of power,” Izuku agrees. “Especially given what all the other ones did. Obviously ghosts have different temperaments, like people do, but if all the others destroyed their haunts and he didn’t –”
He trails off, and Inko doesn’t try to fill the gap. They’re both looking at Mr. Yagi, so you look at him, too. It’s a while before he speaks, and when he does, he’s avoiding your eyes. “Initially, Tomura wouldn’t have had sufficient power to harm anyone. Once he did, it seems he made a conscious decision to use his powers to deepen his own isolation rather than wield them against others. He’s undeniably malevolent, but not particularly hostile. As far as any of us can tell, he’s never attempted to break out of his haunt, much less wreak the kind of destruction one might expect from a ghost in his position. In the eyes of his conjurer, he represents a failure.”
Even though failing at this is exactly what you should want for Tomura, you still don’t like hearing people talk about him that way. “What does that mean?”
“It means that Tomura’s conjurer is likely to return at some point,” Mr. Yagi says, “and attempt to turn Tomura into the symbol of terror he was meant to be. My understanding of Tomura is limited, but based on the available evidence –”
He gestures awkwardly at you. “The fastest way for his conjurer to do that would be to remove you from the picture.”
“Wouldn’t Tomura just kill him?” Izuku asks. “I mean – if someone hurt me or Mom, that’s what you’d do, right?”
“Yes,” Mr. Yagi says, “but this conjurer is too cunning to make it easy. He’d likely kill her far from the neighborhood, which would force Tomura to destroy his haunt to pursue him. Tomura would likely leave immense destruction in his wake as he chased the conjurer. Which is what the conjurer wanted him to do all along.”
You feel like you’re going to be sick. You imagine the house blowing apart from the inside, just like the fence did; or worse, you imagine it crumbling, falling apart in a wave of dust that billows out, consuming everything in its path. He already looks down on the neighborhood. If he found any way to blame them for your death, he’d wipe them off the map. And then he’d move on to everything else.
No. Tomura wouldn’t do something that crazy just for you. You’re out of your mind. “I’m not that important to him,” you say. “I’m not – he’d kill the conjurer to punish him, maybe. He wouldn’t go on a rampage. Why would you say that?”
Mr. Yagi doesn’t answer. He looks uncomfortable. “Even if he succeeded in killing the conjurer, it wouldn’t bring you back,” Inko says softly. “He’d still be loose in the world, still angry, still destructive, with no one to aim his anger towards. Haven’t you ever been so angry that you didn’t care who you hurt?”
You have. You don’t want to admit it, but you have. “So have I,” Inko says, which is hard to imagine. “But you and I are human, with societal expectations that make it unlikely that we’ll act on those feelings. Ghosts don’t have that. They follow their feelings. They don’t see consequences until it’s too late.”
“You’re wrong,” you say. Your jaw is clenched, your hands curled into fists out of sight. “I believe you about all of this – who his conjurer is, and why it happened, and all of that. But you’re wrong about what will happen if his conjurer kills me. He doesn’t care enough about me for the rest of it.”
You see Mr. Yagi and Inko trade a glance. Izuku is staring, too, waiting to be let in on the secret. “Perhaps we’re wrong,” Mr. Yagi says. “Even so, no one wants you to be hurt. With that in mind, we have a gift for you.”
“Toshinori’s master made these for me, back when Toshi was still a ghost,” Inko says. She pulls back her sleeves, revealing narrow bracelets on each wrist. “They hide the traces of ghostly power. When Toshi and I met, he and his master were still battling the conjurer. Wearing these kept me from being noticed and used against him.”
You hadn’t known that. Now you understand why Mr. Yagi is so certain about what Tomura will do if you’re killed – it’s what he would have done, or wanted to do, if he’d lost Inko. “My power’s faded enough that it’s almost undetectable,” Mr. Yagi says. “My master would be pleased if the bracelets went to someone who needed them.”
You argue. Of course you argue. A lot, in no small part because going to Mr. Yagi’s house for dinner and coming back with his wife’s jewelry on is going to convince everybody at the office that you’re sleeping with him. Once you lose that part of the argument, you switch tactics to arguing that something that fits Inko’s wrists is going to be too small for yours, only for Inko to tell you, completely straightfaced, that the bracelets are magic and can grow or shrink to fit whoever needs to wear them. You sit there with that for a moment, chagrined, before she bursts out laughing and tells you to try them on first. You do. They fit perfectly. Maybe they’re magic after all.
You help Inko with the dishes while Izuku piles up paper after paper after paper on the counter for you to take home and review, including a list of six possible names Tomura’s conjurer could be going by at this very moment. Then all of you head to the backyard to extract the butterfly bush. It’s a four-person job for sure. You have no idea how Izuku thought he was going to do it himself.
Inko insists you go home with leftovers, then sends you home with more food than you can carry. You thank her and Mr. Yagi and Izuku with a little more emotion than you usually display – for the food, and for their help. “I’ll bring this back to the neighborhood,” you say. “It’ll clear things up. Now we have a better idea of what to watch out for.”
“If you need assistance at any point, let me know,” Mr. Yagi says. “I do have some experience in this regard.”
“I will,” you say. “I’ll see you at work, sir.”
You’re still feeling too many things as you drive home, the still-living butterfly bush taking up the entire backseat of your car and enough food for two nights of dinners in the passenger seat. It takes you a while to name the feeling as hurt – hurt for a lot of reasons that have nothing to do with the absurd kindness Mr. Yagi and his family showed to you. It’s an old hurt, one you’ve lived with for a long time; the feeling of observing a happy family and realizing all over again how empty your childhood was. But now there’s a new kind of hurt added to the pile. Not the hurt of wanting something you didn’t have, but wanting something you won’t get.
Inko was you, once upon a time. Human, in love with a ghost, in the line of fire. But it worked out for her. She’s happy. She has a son and a husband who loves her and a garden whose biggest problem is an invasive plant her son accidentally planted in it. That’s never going to be you.
Even if you wanted that, and you’re not at all sure you do, knowing you can’t have it makes you sad. You drive the rest of the way home with a weird lump in your throat, trying to clear it before you get home. You can’t explain this to Tomura. He won’t understand.
The mood sticks with you all the way home, but when you pull into your neighborhood, you feel it inexplicably lift. It’s just past sundown. Hizashi and Shinsou are in their garden, laughing about a misshapen eggplant they’ve been growing. Himiko is on the front porch of her house, painting Jin’s nails, while their siblings scribble profanity they probably learned from Spinner onto the sidewalk in chalk. Spinner and Keigo are hanging out in front of Spinner’s house, talking something over with Magne. And your front lawn might be dead as a doornail, but all the lights are on inside your house.
You park in the driveway and start ferrying things up to the house. The door swings open before you can even think of unlocking it, and Phantom races to greet you, barking and whining until you set the leftovers on the porch swing and crouch down to greet her. She licks your face, slurping the way she does when you’ve been sweating or crying. This time it was the latter.
When you turn to retrieve the leftovers, they’re gone. Inside the house, you hear the refrigerator open and shut. “I can carry that stuff,” you say to Tomura. “Don’t burn through too much energy.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Tomura’s down to a pair of hands as he drifts onto the porch, hands that seize your wrists and refuse to let go. “What are these?”
“I’ll explain,” you say. “I still have stuff to bring in.”
You bring in your purchase from the other store, knowing Tomura won’t look inside it unless you give him a reason to be suspicious, then devote your attention to wrestling the butterfly bush out of the backseat. Tomura eyes it suspiciously. “Where are you going to put that?”
You stop just before you remove it. You know from experience that once something leaves the car in the driveway, it’s fair game. “My boss and his family gave it to me,” you say. Tomura’s suspicious expression cranks up a notch. “It’s for you.”
Tomura blinks. “I’m going to bring it in. Don’t touch it yet,” you say. “I need to talk to you first.”
Tomura waits as you drag the butterfly bush in its pot into the yard, then up onto the porch, then through the door. He keeps quiet until after you’ve shut the door. “Can I have it now?”
“No,” you say. You’ve got a not-insignificant suspicion that Tomura is going to jump you the instant he’s fully materialized, and you don’t want to try to have this conversation while he’s trying to make out with you. But now he’s waiting, clearly impatient, and all at once you forget what you were planning to say. “Um –”
“Did they give you that tree just because they had it?”
“No,” you say, startled. “I asked if I could have it. I wanted to see you. My boss’s son, he said you could probably get two weeks of full materialization out of it, but I think there’s a good chance he underestimated your power level, and –”
The butterfly bush crumbles to ash so quickly it’s hard to imagine it was there in the first place. Tomura’s feet hit the floor, and a moment later, he jumps you. Literally jumps you – he’s taller than you are, but he tangles himself around you until both his feet are off the ground. He’s solid, and heavy, and you’re not at all prepared to take the weight of a fully embodied ghost. You collapse backwards, barely managing to tuck your chin and avoid smacking the back of your skull against the floor. Tomura takes the change from vertical to horizontal completely in stride. Whatever he’s planning, it’s not impeded by the fact that Phantom is racing in excited circles around the two of you.
You’re worried he’s going to kiss you, or go after your clothes the way Dabi’s apparently made a habit of doing to Keigo. Instead Tomura stretches out on top of you, apparently unconcerned with where his elbows and knees are going, and buries his head in your shoulder. Or your neck. He can’t seem to decide which one he prefers.
You put up with a few seconds of ghost cuddling before you ask. “Tomura, what are you doing?”
“Saw it in a movie.” A puff of cold air hits the side of your neck. “Wanted to try.”
“In this movie you saw, were they on the floor?” you ask, exasperated. “If we’re going to keep this up, we’re moving it to the couch.”
“I don’t want to move.”
“Tough luck. I don’t want to cuddle with you on the floor.” You roll him off of you, get to your feet, and book it to the living room, flopping down on the couch a split second before Tomura flops down on you. “Here’s fine, though.”
Tomura gets comfortable again, complaining under his breath, but once he’s settled, he goes quiet and still. “You’re like a weighted blanket,” you say nonsensically. “I didn’t think this was going to be the first thing you did.”
“I want that later. I want this now.” Tomura goes quiet again for a few moments. “Those things your boss gave you are strong. I didn’t see you until you were here. Why do you have them?”
It occurs to you why Tomura might be concerned. “They’re for hiding me when I’m out there. From other ghosts. Or conjurers.”
“You went there to find out about conjurers,” Tomura says. You’re surprised he remembered that. Or surprised he asked about it. Or both. “Did you?”
“About one of them,” you say. “The last name on Aizawa’s list. My boss thinks, um – he thinks that one might be yours.”
“Mine,” Tomura repeats. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” you say. You don’t want to get into the rest of it – the conjurer’s MO, whatever made Tomura different, what Mr. Yagi’s afraid will happen if – when – you die. Not when it’s calm like this. Not when you feel like you’re breathing for the first time in weeks, in spite of the fact that you’re currently being flattened by a ghost. “But my boss and his wife met when he was still a ghost. Someone made the bracelets so other ghosts and conjurers couldn’t find her.”
“Why would they care about someone else’s human?” Tomura sounds like the concept’s never occurred to him. “Just get your own.”
You knew you were right about this. You tell yourself that being right is a relief. “My boss loves his wife. He loved her even when he was a ghost. The best way for somebody to hurt him was to hurt her, and somebody really wanted to hurt him. So she wore these. To be safe. And now his powers have faded, so she gave them to me.”
It’s quiet again. “I don’t like that I can’t see you,” Tomura says.
“I’ll take them off once I’m in the neighborhood,” you say. “So you’ll know I’m there.”
Tomura makes an indistinct sound you can probably read as agreement and makes himself comfortable again. When it becomes clear that he’s not moving any time soon, you wrap your arms loosely around him. Tomura makes another indistinct sound. “What are you doing?”
“Holding you,” you say. “People do that.”
“Weird.” Tomura doesn’t stir. After a few minutes of lying there, one of your hands resting between his shoulder blades and one on the small of his back, you cautiously sneak one hand up to fiddle with the ends of his hair.
It’s tangled. There’s only so much you can do one-handed, but you get to work anyway, strangely comforted by the texture of it between your fingers. Tomura lifts his head slightly when you tug at one of the tougher knots. “Why are you doing that? It’s just going to get tangled again the next time I dematerialize.”
“I can fix it next time, too.” Maybe with a brush. “Do you care?”
“No.” Tomura answers fast. “It’s – nice. A lot of it is nice.”
You wonder what ‘it’ is in this case. Being corporeal? Being in physical contact with you? The physical contact you’re initiating? It doesn’t really matter. It’s all physical sensation to him, some good and some bad, and you’re the person who provides it. Tomura doesn’t care about you beyond that. It makes sense that he wouldn’t worry about you the way Mr. Yagi worries about Inko. The way any other ghost in the neighborhood worries about their human.
You’re not upset about it. You’ll take what you can get. And if what you can get is a few minutes cuddling on the couch before your ghost decides he’d rather make out, that’s still more than you expected when you came home tonight.
More Posts from Flamme-shigaraki-spithoe and Others
Long wawy hair..
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Vibe [AU fic] Intro
![Vibe [AU Fic] Intro](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9d2eab68d92710610cda4b6a04e7c9d5/fa581a84f960ff45-b7/s500x750/2095ffd66c251be9fc5e6a0adad110753bde53db.png)
SUMMARY: You offered to take Shigaraki's virginity. You wondered how he was going to fulfill your sexual appetite. You could tell he was eager to please. You roused something in him, an insatiable man that could not get enough of you. You had Shigaraki so sprung like crazy.
Virgin! Shigaraki/ Thicc! Reader
Virgin! Shigaraki/ Curvy! Reader
18+ readers only
[DISCLAIMER: The characters respectfully belongs to the creator of 僕のヒーローアカデミア Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia, Kohei Horikoshi.
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of the respective owners. The author of the fanfiction is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.]
MATURE CONTENT WARNING: This fanfiction is intended for mature audiences only.
This story contains explicit adult sexual content. If you are easily offended or are under the age of 18, please leave now. Reader discretion is advised.
•••°°°°••••°°°°••••
"Where in the hell is he?" You stepped out of the doors of the lecture hall, tapping your thumb on the keypad to your phone. You checked what time it was on the screen. It was almost the late morning, going into the early afternoon hours.
As your last lecture came to an end that day, you had plans to meet up with your partner for your project that was assigned to the both of you by your professor.
Shigaraki Tomura was the person who you were partnered with. You tried to get a good look at him but his face was mostly obscured by his long, ruffled cyan hair and black hoodie. His head was panned down as his eyes stared at his notebook throughout the entire lecture.
If you were fast enough, you could find him.
Or so you hoped.
But still, you knew that there was a possibility that he couldn't have gotten that far in such a short amount of time. You underestimated his ability to slip away undetected into the crowd. Immediately, you could feel a hint of annoyance begin to grow.
The stress of having demanding courses, running an online side business, working a day job and graduating was getting to you. There was definitely a heavy load on your shoulders. You hardly had any time to sit down and blink your eyes for a lousy few seconds. Your life after graduation would be even tougher as you would be entering nursing school.
One of the few things that brought comfort to you was Spring Break. That was one of your most favorite times of the year. You along with other friends had the money saved up to travel to the Bahamas that year. Things always get wild each and every Spring Break vacation you go on. Just recalling the memories made you blush and a bit wet from time to time.
The previous year was a vacation that you will most definitely hold dear to your heart and your libido. It was full of exhibitionism, voyeurism and non-stop sex marathons day in and day out. You had most of your sexual crusades saved on video in your phone. Once in a while, you like to watch videos of yourself getting fucked as you spend your lone nights pounding yourself with your favorite ribbed dildo.
•••°°°°••••°°°°••••
You stopped at a cafe nearby the campus to grab yourself two strawberry cheese Danishes to go. The wait was about three to four minutes. You politely thanked the employees at the cash register and bid them a good day.
As you turned to leave the cafe, your eyes caught the sight of an individual sitting at the corner of the cafe, near the back. It looked like he had chosen that seat so that nobody would bother him, almost as if he was sequestering himself from the other patrons on purpose.
The first thing you noticed about him was his very pale skin. It was almost translucent. He was quite thin as well. He wore an oversized black hoodie that was pulled over his head so that you barely noticed his tousled locks of cyan hued hair.
You immediately recognized him from class. What a relief that you were able to find him without going through any kind of extensive searching and scouring around the entire campus. All of his attention was towards his phone that he had in his hand. He was so immersed in the screen that he did not even notice that you were walking towards him.
"Oh! Thank goodness I found you." You sighed, feeling at ease. "You left before I had the chance to talk to you. I wanted to discuss the group project that we were assigned earlier." You clutched your books against your chest. A cute taupe pleather purse was strapped to your shoulders with your pastries safely wrapped inside of it.
His head shot up as soon as he heard your voice. It took one second to gather your thoughts when his eyes met yours. You hardly saw a person with scarlet eyes before. You wondered if he wore contact lenses or if those red eyes were his natural eye color.
"Hmm? Oh yeah. I almost forgot about that." The blue haired young man muttered under his breath before turning his attention back to his phone.
You noticed how standoffish he was but it wasn't a personal snub towards you. He displayed the same behavior towards everybody he crossed paths with.
You were concerned about his flippant attitude towards the project because it would count for a huge chunk of your grade. It was important for you to graduate with an excellent GPA.
"So, you almost forgot about it? Well, I'm already stressing out about it and it's hardly been thirty minutes since class was dismissed. I need to pass the course with flying colors. I'm a senior. This is my last semester here. I graduate this coming May. I am going for my bachelors and after, I'm planning on going to nursing school to become a registered nurse." You explained to him, tucking a lone strand of hair behind your ear. He did not budge when he heard your statement.
"If you don't mind me asking, what year are you in?" You asked Tomura in an attempt to make small talk. Creating a sense of familiarity through constant communication was an excellent way to build a healthy partnership with another person. You genuinely wanted to get to know him. It was important that you were able to break the ice with him.
Tomura, on the other hand, felt the opposite. His prejudgments and assumptions lead him to believe that you were like all of the other ditzy whores running around campus. He was certain that you were trying to exploit him for resources or his intelligence. You seemed like the type. Otherwise, why would a pretty lady like you be talking to him? The bitter raging cynic in him told him to put all his emotional walls up around him.
"Sophomore." Tomura simply stated.
He really did not notice you in his class but he really did not notice anyone in general. His main focus was getting the course material, taking the necessary notes and then leaving before anyone had the chance to speak to him. He tried his best to avoid socializing because that was definitely not his strong suit.
However, that did not stop him from observing you from head to toe.
Plump glossy lips, doe shaped eyes, long thick wavy hair and hourglass shape? Even though you wore loose fitting hospital scrubs, your curves were still noticeable, especially your backside. Your ass was nice and round and your thighs were another story. They were thick and juicy. You were a whole snack.
You took a seat and sat in front of him. You had a few minutes to spare before your shift at the University's hospital were to start. "I don't mean to bug you but, I would just like to know our general plans for the project. We could worry about the details later."
Tomura's was so relieved that the project did not have any speaking parts. That part was optional. "Well, you don't have to worry about that. I'll do 90 percent of the work if that's what you want."
You frowned slightly at his assumption of you being lazy. The man did not know you from a can of paint. If he walked a mile in your shoes for just one day, he would know how much of your schedule consisted of non-stop work day in and day out. There was an itch inside of you that wanted to give him a piece of your mind and set him straight.
Tomura definitely lacked a lot in the personality and the socialization department. You wanted to be mature about this and find a way to reach some kind of middle ground with him.
"Listen." The tone in your voice was much stern than before but you were able to remain calm. "I really want to contribute to the project. I would feel like a failure if I just let you do all the work yourself. This is supposed to be teamwork. I'm willing to work with you if you would just give me a chance." As you finished your statement, you sat up straight and crossed your arms.
Tomura just blinked his eyes and observed your body language. His curiosity about you began to grow. There was something about the way you showed your confidence when it came to voicing your needs and expectations.
"I guess we could work together if you're willing to do your share. You seem genuine enough." He gave a stiff nod of approval.
"What makes you think that I wasn't being genuine in the first place?" Your tone was a bit softer.
"I don't feel like explaining myself but, women in the past usually left most of the workload up to me and just pretended as if I did not exist once they got what they wanted from me…" He explained with a hint of bitterness in his tone. It made him angry just recalling what happened in the past.
"So, you just assumed that I was going to do the same thing to you? Is that it?" Your eyes narrowed a bit, trying to remain sympathetic towards him.
"To be honest? Yes." He bluntly answered, crossing his arms.
"Well, I'm not like them." You rolled your eyes at his subtle hostility. "Not all women are the same just like all men aren't the same. I believe in the philosophy of 'treat others how you would like to be treated'. Like I said before, I'm willing to work with you if you're willing to cooperate with me."
"Ah. Smart, genuine and pretty. I don't see any of your types around here too often." Tomura tossed you a snide smirk your way.
"Trust me; there are plenty of women who are very beautiful and kind hearted out there in the world. It would not hurt to step outside more and socialize." Then, you checked your phone for the time. You had about two minutes before you had to leave for work.
Tomura made a grunt of annoyance and checked his phone too. He did not want anyone to tell him what to do or where to go. He absolutely hated going outside, not to mention his socializing skills were terribly weak, almost non-existent. He spent most of his free time cooped up in his dorm gaming and studying.
You quietly observed Tomura as he took his free hand to scratch his nails onto the flesh on the side of his neck to satiate the irritating itch that was bugging him ever since you began speaking to him.
It was apparent that he was dealing with some personal issues that had him in the state that he was in. Everything from his skin to his physical stature was in need of some positive modification of care. You wanted to give Tomura some advice on how to improve his physical health but, you decided that it would be best to keep your comments to yourself. That did not stop you from being concerned for him. It seemed like he could use a positive influence in his life. He could use a person who could help him get out of his shell.
However, you could definitely be of some assistance when it came to his skin care. Most of his exposed flesh looked so dry and flaky, especially around his mouth.
"I noticed that you have the habit of scratching your neck. Is there anything wrong? Is it a rash?" You asked Tomura.
"Um…" Tomura's eyes darted downwards, focusing on his foot as he tried his best to avoid making eye contact with you. It was evident that he was ashamed of his habit. "It's kinda…hard to explain."
Your observation wasn't meant to be taken as scorn or criticism against him and you wanted him to know that. "Sweetie. I would highly suggest that you stop because your skin could get infected or you might give yourself a permanent scar around that area. I could give you some of my custom made home remedies for skin care. They're all handmade and mixed by me. I usually sell them online just to make some extra cash on the side."
Tomura kept quiet as he glared at you with suspicion.
"Don't worry. It's not a pyramid scheme and I'm not trying to recruit you into anything. I am the boss of my own side business and I work for no one but myself. No one is working above me or beneath me. I am the sole proprietor. As a matter of fact, I will give you some of my products free of charge." You assured him with a friendly smile.
Tomura did not know what to think about your kind gesture. It really confused him for a moment and he had trouble finding proper words to say to you. "Oh really? I mean, you really don't have to—"
"I know I don't have to, but I want to." You reassured him, placing a hand gently on top of his. You wanted to show him that you meant well by him and that you actually cared for him.
This was a VERY rare occurrence of a beautiful woman showing enough interest to even help him with anything. You were so kind and patient towards him.
However, a hint of cynicism kept prodding his thoughts.
Then…
Those cynical thoughts spiraled and led him to accusing you of feeling pity for him as if he was a sad charity case that had no hope in life. Afterwards, there came a flood of self defeating thoughts. Those thoughts usually held him back from moving further in life as far as relationships and friendships were concerned.
This was feeling a bit too intense for him at the moment. He needed the time to process the events that just took place.
"I will let you know if I need anything." He stated in a curt tone.
You had the feeling that he was overwhelmed so you decided to leave him alone to have his space. Besides, it was time for you to head off to work anyway.
You stood up from your chair and bid him a good day. "Okay. I'll see you next week."
Tomura meekly waved at you and watched you leave the cafe. His scarlet eyes noticed how your hips and ass swayed from side to side as you walked out. He thought your little stroll was the sexiest thing he has ever seen so far. It had a natural seductive rhythm to it.
That was a vision that would certainly linger in his mind before he fell asleep tonight. It was the image that will be the cause of him waking up the next morning with his legs and thighs covered in his own cum.
•••°°°°••••°°°°••••
One week later….
You stood by the door of the lecture hall with your thumbs tapping away at your phone, waiting for class to start. Class would not start for another twenty minutes but you always liked to arrive earlier than expected. Your business e-mail was absolutely clogged with different requests, special orders and warehouse inventory related messages. It would take you forever to reply to all of them but, you had to pace yourself so you won't get so overwhelmed to the point of burning yourself out.
"So…you're quite early today."
Tomura's voice snapped you out of your little busy mental bubble.
"Oh. Hey there." You giggled quietly, your mind still preoccupied with your e-mails. You managed to rapidly tap out in the last reply to one of your messages before you gave your full attention to your classmate.
"I'm sorry if I seem distracted. Work is piling on me. I can't catch a break to save my life." You tried to laugh off the stress. A long nap was calling your name once you had the chance to reach your apartment that night.
"It seems like you have a lot on your plate." Tomura sighed, slowly taking a step towards you.
"I do. Lord, give me the strength." You looked up towards the ceiling and clasped your hands together before piteously giggling.
He just chuckled. He found your humor to be cute. It only intrigued him more.
"Um…" He began, but went silent.
A few awkward seconds of silence followed. He cursed himself for not being able to have enough balls to continue the rest of the conversation.
"How was the rest of your week?" You asked him.
"It was alright…I guess. I managed to gather some useful source material for the research part. Now, I just have to begin the written report."
"Oh? I was thinking that I could take care of that part."
"Are you sure? I don’t want to put any more workload on you. You seem really busy with other important things, especially with your other classes and your jobs." He scratched the back of his head, looking down at his own sneakers. He avoided making any eye contact for more than a second.
"Ah. That reminds me. Would it be cool if we could trade phone numbers?" You prepared your thumb to tap his number and confirm it into your contact list.
He felt shocked that you asked him for his number first. Then again, phones are the easiest way to keep in contact with anyone in this day and age. Besides, he did not want to read too much into your request. He reminded himself that this exchange was for academic purposes, not for anything personal nor romantic. "Yeah. Sure."
You called him to make sure your number appeared on his screen. It did and he proceeded to save your number with your name in his own contact list.
•••°°°°••••°°°°••••
An hour and a half later…
After class, you two agreed to meet up in the library to discuss the project in much greater detail. During that time at the library, Tomura felt more at ease working with you but his nervousness was still there. Your aura was so friendly and inviting which made it easier for him to become more engaging with you as time went on. It made it a comfortable environment for him.
In some instances, his mind dozed off and he stared at your face. You were so pretty to him. He zeroed in on your lips whenever you spoke.
They were so soft…
So supple…
He wondered how they would feel wrapped around his cock. Very dirty and sordid thoughts swirled around his mind and they did not stop. They just got filthier and filthier by the second.
Damn. What would it look like to see you beg for him to fuck you after he finished painting his cum all over those sexy lips of you?
Then, his mind as well as his eyes drifted towards your breasts. On that day, you wore a tight spandex long sleeve shirt with a bit of cleavage showing with a pair of tight denim jeans that complimented your hips, thighs and ass very well.
Would you beg for him to splatter his thick cum all over your gorgeous breasts? One could only imagine. How would your ass feel once you made yourself comfortable in his lap? It would feel so soft and warm. Yes it would. He decided it would feel soft and warm.
You noticed Tomura practically leering at you and you had to constantly remind the young man to stay focused on the project.
Of course, he would incessantly apologize for losing sight of the important task at hand. You forgave him but sternly warned him to pay attention to the project. He would gladly obey your instructions. There was something really enticing with the way you would take charge and give orders.
Your stay lasted for about an hour before you decided to call it a day.
Your partner just leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms before giving out a large yawn. “Fuck, man. I can’t wait till this project is done and over with. I hate class projects. I really hate working with other people because they annoy me so much.” He recited that statement with a tired sigh.
“Do I annoy you?” You gently smiled at him. “Maybe, I should be next time.”
“I’m just pleasantly surprised at how smooth things went today. I really enjoyed working with you and that’s not something that I usually tell anyone.” He scratched his neck again.
“Oh? Is that so?” You arched an eyebrow up in curiosity. You wanted him to elaborate and you waited for him to do so.
Tomura almost flinched when his hand was gently pulled away from his neck and nestled in yours. Your hand felt so soft and you smelled so sweet. Then, he recalled what you told him the other day about quitting his habit of scratching. The gesture you just displayed was a reminder to him to stop. Your thumb caressed the top of his hand.
“Well…yeah.” He stuttered. His heartbeat picked up a bit. You made him so nervous. At the same time, he felt a sense of comfort. Your presence gave him a feeling of solace. It was so confusing to him.
“I have something to give you.” You turned your back to him for a minute to retrieve an item from your purse. It was a brand new tube of lip balm. Specifically, it was one of your custom made lip balms. The packaging was simple yet appealing. It had your own company logo on it.
You removed the protective plastic tamper seal of the small tube and turned the knob before slowly applying the smooth balm all over his lips. Every ingredient was natural. The ingredients were: Beeswax, Shea butter, Peppermint, Coconut Oil, Cocoa Butter and Vitamin E. The topical salve provided maximum conditioning and healing moisture to the skin.
“This is one of my balms that I made myself. There are many more flavors that I have in stock. I am going to give you some of my products the next time we meet.”
As you applied the balm, you noticed that there was a small mole near his chin. Many people regarded that mole as a 'beauty mark'. It really did fit him really well. "You're so cute. You know that?"
Tomura just blushed before he let out a chuckle to ease the tension. “Thanks. I guess.” The sensation on his mouth felt really odd to him at first but it soothed every parched and cracked crevice of his lips. That balm was quick to do its job. "It's pretty good. You actually made this yourself?" He rubbed his lips together, getting used to the tingling taste of the peppermint. His lips felt smoother than before.
"Yes, I sure did. I enjoy creating my skin care line. It's quite a lucrative field for me." You placed the tube in his hand before wrapping his fingers around it. "Take it. It's yours. Free of charge."
"Thanks. You're really kind. I usually don't care about any of this cosmetic bullshit. I normally don’t make a fuss about my appearance. I just don't see the point." Tomura just shrugged. He did practice basic daily hygiene rituals such as showering and brushing his teeth but, that's the most he's ever done.
"Well, I believe that you deserve to feel comfortable in your own skin. I think you're handsome and you have potential." You gave him a reassuring smile before checking the time on your phone.
"Oh! I need to get going now. I promised my friend that I would meet with them for dinner tonight." You packed up your things and stood up from your chair.
“So, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks? We could meet up after class to discuss the final draft of the report. Is that fine with you?” He asked you. If he were to be honest, he thought it was way too soon for you to part ways with him. It would be nice if you were able to stay with him and hang out a little while longer.
Or overnight.
In his bed.
Or him in your bed.
With your soft thighs wrapped around his waist.
He did not feel one ounce of shame when it came to his fantasies about you. You were really tempting him and it was not fair. If he had the opportunity, he would pounce on you in a heartbeat. And once he was done drilling you into the mattress he would empty his balls inside of you, filling you up with his warm thick cum that you so rightfully deserved. He would not let one drop go to waste. All of it would be inside of you, gushing into your womb. He’ll cum inside of that heavenly pussy over and over again.
“That sounds good to me. I’ll text you if I need anything before then.”
“Cool. I’ll see you later. Thanks for the balm. I’ll make sure to use it every day.” He gave you a small smile, showing his appreciation. Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead, feeling so much tension in his pants at the nonstop explicit thoughts that keep rattling in his mind. He prayed to God that you didn’t notice the small bulge that was underneath his jeans.
You did notice but you kept quiet. It was flattering to you that he found you so visually appealing enough that he was about to bust in his pants. “You’re welcome, babe.” You leaned over the table to pet him on top of his head. You made sure that Tomura could get a nice view of your cleavage.
If he didn’t know any better, you were trying to entice him. The pet name was a clear indicator of that.
You sensed that he was ogling and eyefucking you every time you walked away, had your head turned or became distracted by something else. Your suspicions were correct. It was then that you concocted a sneaky plan for the next time you were to meet up with him. This was a sexy game that you were willing to play. A game that you would for sure win.
•••°°°°••••°°°°••••
Two weeks later…
You spotted Tomura sitting in the student lounge flipping through the pages of one of his text books. You sat next to him on the plush cushion couches. "Hi darling." You greeted him with a sweet, gentle tone.
There weren’t that many people around at the moment except for one or two other people besides you. They were sitting at the other side of the lounge. You made yourself comfortable once you took a seat on the previously vacant spot next to him on the sofa. Maybe a little too comfortable.
"Hey." He slightly blushed at the affectionate pet name.
Tomura’s eyes widened at your choice of outfit. It wasn’t anything too revealing. All you wore was a white tank top and light blue jeans. It was a pretty simple outfit but it was so tight on you, tight in all of the right places. Your cleavage was much more noticeable. If you were to give a slight tug down at your neckline, those tits would just spill out in front of him with little to no effort at all.
You wore that shirt on purpose. You most certainly had his undivided attention. He was wrapped around your little finger.
“I’m sorry that I disappeared after class. I had to use the restroom.” You yawned, outstretching your arms as you did so.
He tried so hard not to gawk at you in front of your face. “Don’t worry. I wanted to get myself something to drink before we met anyway. I’m just glad that you received my text. I apologize for the sudden change for the meet up location.”
“It’s alright. Thanks for letting me know. I really wasn’t in the mood to play cat and mouse today. But, I’m glad I caught you.” You let out a small purr while gently clawing at his hoodie collar.
He gulped. A large lump slid down his throat as he swallowed. His body temperature rose a bit. He wasn’t used to being teased by any woman. It was hard to find his words at the moment.
You felt sinisterly playful on that particular day. “So, do you have the final draft with you?” Your breasts were pressed against his arm.
“Um…Yes. I do. I have a copy of it here with me. You can keep it so you could add your part in. We should compare notes and perhaps you could rewrite the report with your part included. I’ll send you another copy in an attachment through e-mail. Then, we should be good to go.” He stated, trying his hardest to remain composed in your presence.
You were about to make things so difficult for him.
Were your nipples hard?
They definitely were.
They poked out like pebbles underneath that white stretch fabric of your tank top.
“Thank you. You’re so sweet. You’re such a gentleman. Any woman would be so lucky to have you as her man.” You had a sultry smirk on your face.
“Well. I wouldn’t say that. I never had a woman to call my own. I don’t think that will ever happen in this lifetime.” He nervously scratched the side of his neck. This was so embarrassing for him.
"So wait. You mean to tell me that you have never been intimate with another person before?" You asked.
He was hesitant to answer that question for many reasons. One main reason was that he would face harsh judgment. "Um…well…no. No I have not."
"Aww~ Aren't you adorable?" You teased him as your fingers gently flicked and tugged the zipper of his hoodie. This was too good to be true. The hunt was much more delicious. You were like a lioness, on the prowl for her next capture. This one was about to be sweet and juicy.
Once again, Tomura's body temperature slowly rose to a higher temperature when he felt you tinkering with his collar and zipper. His pants were feeling a bit tight around his loins. Those pale cheeks of his had a faint pink tint to them and the tint only deepened when your face moved closer to his.
"What's stopping you?" You asked.
"I always had trouble getting a girl's attention."
"You have my attention." You winked at him. Then, you crossed your legs and leaned closer next to him.
Tomura just froze in place. ‘What the actual fuck ?!’ He sipped his coffee quickly, to keep himself from speaking.
"Well, you know. It would be such a turn on if I were to take IT from you. Would you let me be your first time?"
"Wait―WHAT?!" Tomura damn near choked on his hot caffeinated beverage when he heard your offer.
"I can see the look in your eyes. So can you. I know you want me." You cooed to him.
Tomura felt like the luckiest guy in the world at that moment. A beautiful woman who is willing to take his virginity and was so eager about it as well? He felt like he hit the jackpot.
"I'm going to have so much fun with you." You pressed your chest up against his. Both of his crimson eyes widened while his Adams apple bobbed from a harsh gulp. He thought this entire moment was unreal. This was too good to be true.
Both of your hands pressed on his chest. "We can indulge ourselves with some red wine. Some restraints and body oil and we can have ourselves an evening." You gripped his collar and roughly yanked him so his nose was touching yours. A hiss sharply escaped between your clenched teeth.
He felt like he was about to combust. His face was completely red. He just wanted to melt away from reality. He never knew how to flirt back because he never had the opportunity to. Most women did their best to avoid him as they considered him a weirdo.
You pouted. "What's wrong, darling? You look like a cherry. Is everything alright?"
He sputtered and mumbled. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just—Are you sure? Do you really want to? Us? Together?” His eyes darted everywhere. His palms were so sweaty.
"Follow me to the parking lot. I want to 'show' you something." A devilish smirk stretched your face.
This was about to be good.
Notes: That's it for first chapter. I hope everyone enjoyed it. I originally posted this fic back in 2021 on my Ao3 page. I'm still in the process of writing the next chapter. Should I continue this?
Sweet Dreams
Shigaraki x F!Reader smut
Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI! Dubcon, (Shigaraki believes you're asleep when in fact, you're not) somnophilia, oral sex (m. receiving), spit play, cum in mouth
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi
Synopsis: It's a fantasy Shigaraki can't say no to anymore. Sneaking into your room at night, he intents to use your mouth to get himself off
A.N.: This idea has been in my head for a while and since I miss him so so much, it was time to put idea into words💕
Word count: 1.2k
Most desires are harmless when given into. But then there are those that must remain inaccessible, no matter how strong the temptation. The one Shigaraki is about to execute belongs to the latter.
You are just so irresistibly beautiful when splayed out on the mattress, hair messy and mouth slightly agape. Sound asleep, you look peaceful and so deep in your dreams that nothing could bother you. In fact, having sneaked into your room multiple times at night, Shigaraki knows his presence won’t disturb your sleep.
Such thought encourages him to live out the filthy fantasy, which started as nothing more than a mental image, something he liked to fuck his fist to. But it evolved slowly into a depraved idea that he had been able to deny at first. But the compulsive thoughts turned into needs and tonight his frustration has an iron grip on his restraint.
That’s why he stands beside your bed, hands stuffed in the pockets of his black sweatpants, upper body completely bare. Staring down at your slumbering figure that’s clad in nothing but panties and a camisole top.
His eyes lack emotion, but what he truly feels is control, possessiveness. His cock throbs for knowing that you’re entirely at his mercy. So while listening to your calm breathing, he slowly pushes his sweats down to his ankles, freeing his hardened, aching cock from its confines.
He then places his weight on the bed, straddling your waist first. Spending a minute to admire your beauty, he moves strands away from your face and carefully tucks some behind your ear. Setting your arms on your sides, he positions himself on top of you so that your head rests between his thighs.
Aroused, he breathes heavily from soon getting to shove his cock in your pretty mouth. But first he wants to tease himself a little. Letting his balls rest on your chin while giving himself a few relieving pumps. Closing his eyes and leaning his head back, his adam’s apple bobs as he tries to stifle groans of pleasure.
Having never been this close to the foul fantasy, he wants to cherish the moment and jerk off above you while his heavy balls jiggle against your face. Panting in pleasure, he looks down at your blissfully unaware state and bites the scar of his lip at the sight.
He then carefully shifts in his position, sweeping his thumb softly on your bottom lip to cautiously open your mouth. Giving your glossy lips a few lewd taps with the head of his cock, he enters, slowly, but determinedly.
Eyes rolling in the back of his skull, the softness of your tongue is intoxicating. Your breath feels hot, heavenly, as he gently angles your head and fucks into your cheek. It’s exhilarating, the way your skin stretches into the shape of his dick.
With controlled motions, he carefully rocks his hips and observes how his cock slides in and out of your mouth. He has to grit his teeth to keep the profanities behind them, but it’s futile.
“Fuck— Ah..” He grunts quietly, pleasure blurring his discretion after every shallow thrust, “Yeah.. Take it, fucking slut,” he leans in a little and secures his posture with one hand flat on the mattress.
Having crossed one line means that another can be violated too. The remnants of any sense disappear when he stops fighting the urge to grip your hair. Grasping a handful of it, he thrusts steadily into your cheek, “Nngh.. You love to suck my dick, don’t you baby..?”
Leaning his head back momentarily, he basks in the sinful bliss before continuing to observe your oblivious figure to suck his cock.
But as pleasure surges through him, the need for more also grows. More importantly, he wants to get rough with you. So throwing caution out the window as if it was never there, he gives a few more thrusts into your cheek before pulling out.
Getting up, he gently grabs your pliant body and pulls you so that your head hangs from the edge of the bed. That way he can have full access to your throat.
When your position is just perfect, he takes a look at you. His eyes hooded, a predatory smirk spreads on his features as he fists his cock. Aren’t you just the sweetest little toy for him?
While jerking himself off, he crouches a little and spits in your mouth, spreading his saliva on your tongue with index finger. Straightening his posture, he gently rubs his balls on your face. Then slapping your cheeks a few times with the head of his cock before entering your mouth again.
Features distorting almost disturbingly, his tongue lolls out as he feels the tightness of your throat around his dick.
“Fuck yeah.. “ He huffs, hands tangling up into your hair as he holds your head.
Beginning to thrust steadily, he’s more content with the amount of pleasure he gets from your body. Squelching sounds reverberate inside your throat as he shamelessly humps your mouth. It’s arousing, daring Shigaraki to fuck your face faster. And he has always been bad at saying ‘no’ to himself.
Picking up the pace, his heavy balls swing against your nose obscenely, your sleepy sounds vibrating around his cock. Even though Shigaraki knows that you might wake up from the rough treatment, he doesn’t care anymore. He’s gonna use your throat to get himself off whether you like it or not.
“Nnh— I’m gonna blow my load in your mouth baby,” he grunts, feeling his balls tightening in approaching orgasm.
“Ahh— You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Obviously he doesn’t expect you to answer, but the cute, sleepy hums are enough to convince him you’d just love for him to paint the insides of your throat with his cum.
The mere thought makes his thrusts sloppy as he nears his bliss. Hands gripping your hair tightly as he shoves his whole dick in, grunting through gritted teeth as he spills his seed in steady spurts in the back of your throat. Holding your head still, he takes his time to empty himself, making sure every drop of his cum races down your throat, into your belly.
Sighing contentedly, he pulls his cock out, unceremoniously. Then he slips back into his sweats and proceeds to move your body back into its position, as if he hasn’t just blatantly used you. Tucking you in, he admires you with a twisted smile on his face before walking towards the door.
He glances over his shoulder one last time with the most satisfied smirk on his face, “Sweet dreams, baby,” he says before closing the door.
Unbeknownst to him though, you swallow his load with a lecherous sound. Cracking open your hooded eyes, a debauched smile appears on your face. There’s an unbearable ache in your clit and your panties are absolutely drenched for being more than compliant to let the League’s leader use your mouth to please himself.
that is a work of art ! Thanks to @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love
She is an incredible writer, go take a look at her account !❤️✨
I had a request for a little smut or just a little réaction: If the number one hero of France ( us, the reader) came to Japan for helping them win against tomura and all for one but insted she save tomura for all for one because she love him so much ( even if it is the first time she see him)
Ok so I wanted to use a tiny bit of French I used Google for translation so I hope it's correct.
Rencontre
Rated Mature 18 + Smut 2100+ words
For Tomura it's love at first sight the second his eyes fall on you. He was in awe of the stunning beauty before him, speechless as his eyes took in every inch of you. Dirty thoughts of all the things he'd like to do to you cloud his mind, distracting him from the fight. The heroes take note of his hesitation and go to deal him a fatal blow. But all of a sudden they are unable to move, paralyzed on the spot. Confusion etched on Tomura's face as he stares at Endeavor and Miruko frozen in mid move.
"I bought you time" you explain before turning to Kurogiri, "you teleport right? get Shigaraki out of here". Shigaraki looks at you, stunned at your words and the cute way you pronounce them doesn't go unnoticed by him either as his pants get tighter. What a sexy accent, he thinks to himself, his injuries forgotten. The only thing on his mind is the hot french girl in front of him who happens to be a hero who listens to him, who's helping him! He can't believe it as he stares in shock.
Kurogiri starts to transport him away, but right before the mist man does the vanishing act Shigaraki races to your location across the battlefield, wrapping his arms around your waist, grabbing his pretty french girl and the three of you disappear to his hideout leaving the remaining heroes angered at being betrayed by one of their own.
Once safe Tomura inquires about your motives. Listening as you tell him you understand his side, that he made you question things and see them in a different light, you agreed that the hero system is corrupt. How you know what it's like to feel misunderstood and left.
That's all it takes. Shigaraki's control snaps in a heartbeat. All his pent up sexual feelings and frustration boil over. All the years of being alone, never having a lover, he cant take it anymore. He pins you against the closest wall. Lips attacking your neck. Hands roaming over your soft, supple flesh, relishing in the intimate contact of skin on skin. You make no attempt to stop him, instead you thread your fingers through his hair, moaning as his mouth latches onto your neck.
"I need you" was all you heard before his mouth hungrily devoured you, while his fingers dance over your body, every curve, every dip, groping and squeezing, appreciating all you have to offer. The need to feel and suck every inch of you is all he can think about. His wounds don't matter, only you and the pleasure he will take inside you.
You don't fight your own feelings either as you let yourself go, happy to receive what he's giving. Touching his toned chest, feeling every flex and ripple of his muscles with each movement. Your lips leave a trail of hickeys across his neck till they meet his in a clash of wills that he easily wins. The way he's grunting in approval, the feeling of his blood-soaked chest staining your clothes just adds to the hungry desire between you.
His busy fingers find their way inside your costume. "Oh what's this, no panties, you dirty girl" he growls with a smirk and you feel yourself getting wetter from his words and the husky tone of his voice. You lean your head back, greedily asking for more, moaning at the sensation. Shigaraki chuckles" you want this don't you. Say it" he demands. "Tell me you want me"
"I want it monsieur Shigaraki," you say, your heavy french accent has Tomura's cock twitching and the way your eyes drink in his body makes it tough for him to keep himself in check, wanting nothing more than to give you what you, and he, are both so desperate for.
"Take your clothes off" he purrs, taking a step back. "I want to see you undress for me". Sure he could easily decay the weak fabric but he wants to see you bare yourself to him willingly.
Shimming out of your clothes you keep your eyes on him. Watching as his ravenous gaze travels over your form. The seductive, feral look only has you getting more aroused. He looks as if he will snap any second, barley contained urges boil to the surface, threatening to spill out. You bite your lip noticing the impressive bulge hidden in his pants.
A wicked idea makes you stop in your tracks. Covering your exposed nude body with your hands, your legs crossed to hide what he wants most. Innocently you look up at him, lips in a pout. With your shyest voice you say "but I'm a good hero sir, this is wrong" the tiniest smile lurking beneath the surface giving away your true intent.
Tomura catches on to your innocent act. An unhinged grin takes over his handsome face giving him an even more dangerous look adding to the thrill of your situation.
"Oh it is wrong little lamb, but you like that don't you. I know you want my cock. It's OK, it'll be our little secret hero." His hand grabs your thigh, squeezing it tightly, "now spread your legs or do I need to force them open" his raspy tone serving to turn you on more. But you don't move, choosing to play this game. Wanting him to take charge.
A growl escapes him as his hands slide between your legs, roughly pushing them nice and wide. Wasting no time he kneels in front of you. Before you can even register what he was fixing to do his tongue begins lapping at your core, drawing his name over your Puffy slit. His breath is hot against your core. Your hands run through his white locks as your eyes close, losing yourself to how he's making you feel.
"Fuck Shigaraki" you cuss when his tongue starts flicking over your clit. The sensation has you whimpering in need as your legs tremble next to his head, making it hard to stay on your feet. The texture of his tongue running over the most sensitive part of you has your slick soaking his mouth.
Looking down your eyes lock with his own half lidded ruby ones. You can't even form a coherent sentence. All you know is the pleasure the villain king is delivering. Your fingers still threading through his soft hair, gripping at the long strands, trying to grab onto something.
The erotic way you are moaning his name between cute pleads for more drive Tomura crazy, it's like something from a fantasy he's had way too many times. But this time it's real, and with a woman hotter than he could imagine.
Determined to make you cum he increases his speed, reveling in how sweet you taste, God he could drink every drop of your juices . He knows you are close by the way your voice hitches. Slipping two long fingers inside you, he turns and curls them, while his thumb rubs your little nub. Your legs are visibly shaking. Shigaraki watches how beautiful your face is, the emotions that veil it, the wanton need it shows, the blanton hunger for him, and he delivers. He feels your insides tighten and juices leak out of your cunt as your orgasm washes over you. Diving to lick them up he doesn't miss a drop.
You haven't even come down from your high when you're pulled to the floor underneath him. His toned body covers yours in an instant. Lips meet in an intense dance of passion, mingling together, both battling for dominance. You can taste yourself in his kiss but you don't care, you find it erotic.
His hand tugs at the zipper on his pants, eagerly pushing them to his knees freeing his twitching erection. The primal way he grunts has you spiraling into the depths of rapture and you never want to come back. You can feel the heat from his cock as he guides the tip back and forth over your slit, collecting the wetness that's already pooling at your pussy once again, mixing with his own precum.
Your body shivers with unrestrained desire for the very man you were assigned to take down. You can't help but smile at the double meaning of the words, well technically you did take him down. Shigaraki notices your grin and gives his own sexy smirk in return.
"God you're so wet. You want me so bad dont cha" Don't worry my pretty hero, I'm gonna fuck you real good, I'll make this tight pussy drink my cum Ma beauté." You're shocked, he knows French, but you're quickly brought out of your surprise by his fat cock forcing its way inside you.
Your hands grab onto his shoulders, nails leaving crescent marks on his skin. Gasping at the intrusion. Your walls are trying to expand enough for him, struggling to make room for him. Whimpering cries leave you as he sinks deeper and deeper till he bottoms out. His balls flush against your ass. Your pussy stretched so wide around his fat length. The head of his cock resting on that perfect spot, making you shudder. You've never felt so unbelievably full. He gave you only a minute to adjust to him before starting to slowly move. You try to catch your breath as the large dick repeatedly pushes in and out of your tight cunt.
"You like that, my little lamb. You like being impaled on my cock don't you, such a tight pussy for me" he snickered. All you could do in response was whimper as your fingers dug harder into his arms.
With every thrust your walls seemed to cling onto him more and more, not wanting to let him go. You felt so soft and warm surrounding his manhood, massaging him with every jerk of his hips. You felt so good, words couldn't describe how amazing you were making him feel.
He was done holding back. He was going faster and faster now, his movements more erratic, and you could swear you felt his length pulsing, and it was so warm and thick. With each thrust his tip hit the gummy spot in your depths sending tingles up your spine as heat started to spiral outward from your belly but right before you came yet again he pulled out, leaving you empty and desperate.
Shigaraki chuckles at your frustrated cry before flipping you over so you were on your hands and knees before him. Then in one quick stroke he was buried back inside your slick pussy. Causing you to groan like a whore, you withered beneath him as he filled you again.
He was starved for the way your cunt constricted around him, never wanting to leave it, craving more. His calloused hands held onto your hips, controlling you, making you rock back onto him. Lewd slapping sounds of wet skin on skin echoed through the room as he used your dripping, needy hole. His pace increased even more when he felt your pussy flutter and spasm. His cock was soaked with your juices that were leaking out of you and he felt his own orgasm building.
"Fuck look at how wet you are my sweet, how many times have you cum on my evil cock." But you couldn't answer, all you could do was push back against him, grinding on him as you cried in pleasure.
"S'il te plaît Shigaraki" you begged.
"I love how you say my name baby. I'm gonna give it all to you now. Gonna pump you full of my cum" he grunted. And with that he pounded into you roughly, nearly pulling all the way out before slamming back in, assaulting your g spot till you screamed his name, soaking his cock with your release.
"Good little hero" he praised as he thrust a few more times, and with one final push he came so hard. "Fuck" he growled like a beast, empty his milky cum in your waiting pussy. You felt every spurt of his hot seed as it sprayed your pretty walls, coating your insides.
The only sound in the room was deep breathing as you both tried to catch your breath. Leaning back he grabbed your waist so you were sitting in his lap, sticking with the evidence of your encounter. He pressed his forehead to yours and asked simply, "regrets".
"Not a single damn one" you hummed.
"Good, then you won't hate me when I keep you Ma beauté, you are mine" he says. The happy smile you give in return has his heart skipping a beat.
"And you Tomura Shigaraki, are mine"
FROM THE INSIDE w shigaraki
post date voyeurism
n_fw. 2114wc. dead dove do not eat. obsession/voyeurism (noncon: reader is unaware), masturbation, porn, spy cameras, murder mentioned. background phrogging/stalking. yn is slightly aware of something being off but hasn’t accepted what yet.
It’s late when he hears your car pull into the driveway, snarling when he glances at his phone and realizes it’s after midnight. Too fucking late.
He slips upstairs, quiet as he listens to the front door open and close before you drop your keys in the dish with the sweetest of giggles. It’s only then that he realizes you’re on the phone, his stomach turning at the thought of one of those annoying little men from your office being on the other end of the line.
You looked extra pretty when you’d left for work this morning, making time to do your makeup and style your hair. You’d even opted for clothes fresh out of your closet instead of the trousers you’d worn to work a few times before and the blouse you both favored.
“Yeah,” he hears you say. “I’m inside. The door is locked. Safe and sound, Kaminari.”
Kaminari Denki. Tomura just barely bites back a scowl as he recognizes the name as one of the sound engineers in the office.
“I had fun, too. I’d love to do it again... Feeding my cat, actually. I haven’t seen him yet but I know he’s hungy….Hahaha. Yeah, of course I’m going to blame you. Mmmm…me too. Ok…Good night.”
He listens, catching sight of you when you pass him on your way to the bathroom. Your hair is a little mused, skin dewy from the long day, and he has to stop himself from reacting because you aren’t quite his. Not yet, at least. But fuck if he doesn’t hate Kaminari for being the one to look you all night.
It doesn’t take long for you to go through your normal routine, heading back down stairs to have a glass of water and take your pills after your shower. He lingers in the bathroom, breathing in the soft, sweet scent of your soap and retracing the heart doodled in the steam on your mirror before he hears you coming back up for bed.
He wonders, just for a moment, what you would do if you knew that he waits up to you. Would you be embarrassed for being with a man when he’s quite literally right here, or would you be surprised to know he’d even taken interest? It works for him either way.
Once he’s sure you’re in bed, he makes his way over to your room, lingering to the side of the doorway.
“Hello?”
He presses his shoulder into your wall, perfectly silent as he waits.
“Mushu? Is that you, baby?”
The cat meows, rubbing against his legs before making his way into your room. “Ah, hello, bb. I wondered where you were. Did you have your dinner? Bleh- ok Mr Tuna Breath, you had it.”
The cat begins to talk to you, meowing whole stories, and Tomura resists the urge to groan in exasperation as he waits a few minutes for Mushu to make his way back out of your room. He considers calling the night, but you don’t let him down.
Your phone unlocks a moment later, loud and obnoxious, and he takes the opportunity to peek in, his eyes zeroing in on your screen to see what you’re into tonight. A smile tugs at his lips when he recognizes the app, his cock already hard in his sweats as he eases his hand into the waistband.
There’s no sound- a blessing and a curse, because it forces him to keep quiet but lets him hear you so perfectly- and it only takes a few seconds to hear you sigh, a soft moan following before he hears you say, “God, that’s so hot…”
Tomura squints, just barely making out what he’s sure is someone getting fisted, and feels his breath catch. His cock goes painful as his eyes shift to you in the dark, throbbing as he smears precum down his length. He licks his lips as he makes you out, watching at your failed attempt to prop your phone up before you abandon the idea in favor of shoving both hands under your covers.
“Haa, fuck,” you breathe, the sound short circuiting his mind.
He wants to touch you. To smell and taste, too, but he settles for what he gets for now, his free hand cupping his balls and squeezing until he can’t take it, choking silently.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he hears you whimper. “Harder, please- haa, fuck-”
He’d kill to know what fantasy is playing out in your mind. To give it to you. Harder, faster- he fucks into his fist, hoping he matches your pace as he measures your breathy whimpers and senseless pleading- he’d give you anything if it meant he could feel your cunt straining around his thick cock. His fist. Even to fuck you senseless with a toy (he’s seen you do it to yourself and still hasn’t gotten the sound of your teary, soaked sobs out of his head- it’s a miracle he hasn’t snapped, if he’s honest with himself).
But he’s patient. If with nothing else, he’s patient with and for you. He bides his time until it’s perfect. Because he wants to give that to you. Needs to, even. At least for a little while, before he ruins you for anyone else just so he can have you to himself.
His eyes finally make you out clear in the dark and he watches, starved for you, as your fuck yourself with your fingers under the cover of your blankets, crying for relief he wants so badly to give you until your jerking unsteadily, cumming hard and fast just before he does.
The slightest of whimpers escape him and he moves quickly as you react slowly. He realizes that he’d eased deeper into your room as he just barely slips out in time. Biting his tongue, he presses himself against the wall before you can make him out in the darkness, his cum hot on his fingers as he waits.
“I-is anyone there? Mushu???”
No. He holds his breath, praying your limbs are too heavy after cumming to get out of bed and is rewarded by the soft sound of you sighing and your bedding rustling as you get comfortable.
Tomura exhales, hand still working over his sensitive cock as the memory of your voice plays in his head. His eyes fall closed, picturing his cock disappearing into the heat of your pussy, your smile as you fuck yourself against him, hair falling into his face as you lean in and take a kiss. As his head falls back against the wall, he brings a hand up to his throat, imagining the way your pretty eyes should go glassy as he squeezes. He imagines that you tremble and jerk in his hold, your body coming hard -harder, better than you do for yourself, because unlike you, he wouldn’t stop- before collapsing into him for comfort.
It’s an amusing thought, because no one in their right mind should look for comfort in him. It isn’t even the last thing he wants people to feel because of him. But you- you’ve always inspired a new part of him. One that he’s wanted to ruin and nurture from the moment you moved in. Since the moment he moved in.
He cums hard, his vision blurry as he chokes back moans and groans of pleasure in favor of a few strained, silent gasps for breath. Fuck…fucking-
His phone vibrates and he shoves his clean into his pocket to grab it before he flips it open, annoyance underlining his silence. It spikes at the sound of Dabi’s laugh, but he strokes the sensitive head of his spent cock in an attempt to hold on just a little longer too you’re shared orgasm as a rough voice comes through the speaker: “I’m outside.”
He listens for a moment, comforted by the familiar sounds of you breathing in your sleep. “Ok,” he licks his hand clean as he retreats to his room for a moment. “2 minutes.”
Tomura makes his way back down the hall, slipping into the alcove you never bother with and climbing the old steps with practiced ease. He shuts your attic door silently, crossing the shared space and exiting into the alcove that leads to his house. But, he doesn’t bother shutting his door as he descends his steps, your sweet sounds still ringing in his ears.
His phone vibrates and he checks the message before changing into jeans: stop jacking off and come the fuck on
He rolls his eyes, pockets his phone, and takes a quick look at your cameras to see that you’ve kicked the bedding away as you lay back, nearly starfished on your bed. Your head tilts, looking at your phone, and he reaches out to slip his headphones on just in time to be rewarded by the sound of you sighing as you reach for it again.
“God,” he hears you murmur once you’ve found another video. “So good…”
This one has sound, and he listens for a moment, watching as you stare wide-eyed at your phone. He wishes he could see what it is you’re watching. But, as it stands, all he can make out as the slick, squishy sounds of what he’s almost certain is the cum lube that cam-girls love so much as someone gets fucked.
The moans aren’t fake, which he knows you appreciate as much as he does, but for as much as wonderful as some girl fucking herself stupid sounds, she isn’t you. And he finds himself annoyed as he leans closer to the screen as though it’ll help him hear you.
It works- marginally. Made better by the fact that the screen illuminates your face, making it easy for him to see your little expressions as your hand slips back into your shorts.
He just barely resists the urge to fist his cock, groaning as his phone begins to vibrate again. You whimper, leaving him rock hard in his jeans as he checks to make sure he’s recording.
“Fuck, please,” he hears you beg as he reaches to tug off his headphones. “Want it too fucking bad…”
“Wait,” he grins, watching a few seconds longer as he sets them back down. Your hips fuck into your hand and he tears his eyes away, knowing he’d stay until your done if he doesn’t.
He slips out of his house silently, glancing back at your house to see Mushu sitting in the window, orange eyes watching him. Just a little longer.
“Took you long enough,” Dabi quips when he gets into the car. “We’re going to miss the fucking raid.”
“Chill,” Tomura sighs, relaxing into the passenger seat. “We’re gonna be right on time, idiot.”
“What took you so long, anyway? Get stuck?”
“No.” He doesn’t elaborate, knowing his friend takes a little too much joy out of the situation. “Would it be acceptable to kill the guy she’s dating?”
Dabi laughs, shaking his head as he lights a Seven Star. Tomura wrinkles his nose, rolling down the window as he angles himself away from the smoke. Your nose is too sensitive for him to smell like anything but you, and the heady tobacco-menthol scent is sure to distract you even after he’s taken another god-forsaken shower.
“Why are you asking me? We both already know you’ve made up your mind.”
He hasn’t, which is why he’s asking. But the last thing he wants is for Dabi to think he values his opinion on anything.
“Maybe leave him a warning instead,” Dabi offers a few minutes later, stubbing out his cigarette. “That’s more fun.”
“Too much work.”
“Lemme help you.”
He cuts his eyes over to Dabi to see the remnants of a smile on his lips, blue eyes flashing over to the passenger seat once he feels Tomura’s gaze on him.
“Com’on, bro. It’ll be fun. I’ll take care of it.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why, huh? You’re my dearest friend” -Tomura scoffs and Dabi snickers because he knows he’s full of shit- “I love that you’re in love. And knowing you aren’t going to die a virgin has me rock fucking hard.”
“Fuck off.”
“Wanna feel?”
“Fine.”
“Oh shit-” Dabi switches hands on the wheel and catches Tomura’s wrist. “My lucky day, hmm?”
He snatches his arm away, shoving Dabi a second later.
“See,” Dabi continues to laugh. “This is your problem. You’re hot and fucking cold.”
“Fine to taking care of it,” Tomura hisses, pressing himself against the door in annoyance over Dabi’s antics. Especially considering the fact that he’s still half fucking hard over the thought of you getting off into you pass out. “Fucking weirdo.”
a part of a larger idea that’ll probably never get completed but god if if doesn’t keep me up at night
My Hero Academia - The Ultra Stage | RAITA being adorable af as Tomura Shigaraki at the encore/curtain call, rehearsals and backstage (2/2)
more:
iida - 1 / 2 / 3
bakugo - 1 / 2
todoroki - 1 / 2
kirishima - 1
iidaroki/todoiida - 1 / 2
backstage - 1 / 2
shigaraki - 1
Ok so we all write about big horny go getter Shigaraki, but what about sexually repressed, pent up Shigaraki
Bitch you K N O W I had to write it now
He’s trying not to look. He really is. Honest. No, really.
You’re frantically flouncing around the kitchen in nothing but a tank top and shorts -your “sleepwear”- at 2 am, desperately searching for something. He doesn’t know what. He wasn’t listening (truthfully, he couldn’t focus) when you asked him about it. Instead he went on autopilot, shaking his head while pretending he wasn’t lasciviously leering at the sight of so much of your skin on show.
Afficher davantage
🤌
let’s be so real for a moment... i hate to see shigaraki characterized as a heartless bastard by the fandom.
i feel like a lot of people in the mha fandom completely disregard the fact that shigaraki is actually really nice and tolerates a lot shit, especially from his colleagues. i wouldn’t characterize him as heartless. what he is, though, is angry and traumatized and has lived his entire life having no one to give a single shit about what happens to him.
i feel like shigaraki’s distant aura throws people off a lot but it’s blatant he does care but can’t regulate his emotions appropriately for his age ... because he’s traumatized and his inner child hasn’t had a single chance to ever heal from what he endured (and is still enduring.)
trauma does a lot to an individual, especially trauma stemming from ones childhood. you are constantly refused a safe place to grow and develop properly like other children your age.
traumatized children grow up into traumatized adults, but that bruised inner child doesn’t go away. their ghost just lingers deep within and yearns for gentle healing.
I don't really know you but you have my full support TvT
I apologize to all my followers for how mentally unwell I am about Sun's new voicelines in Help Wanted 2
sun from help wanted 2 got me thinking about fic shenanigans.... i think he gets to be a bit more unhinged
boyfriend gamer shigiraki!
imagining dating gamer shigiraki who actually is very popular.
he streams various online games, sometimes with friends but mostly by himself. with his competitive nature and wide game knowledge, he’s actually insanely good at any game he tries out.
to be honest, the one way to describe him is a loser stuck in a hot body. when he concentrates on his game he subconsciously pouts. he got popular from his reactions to scary games, no matter how hard he tries he can’t help but get scared whenever he hears the littlest noise, a complete scaredy cat.
who’s viewers thought he was a complete loner until one steam a couple months ago when someone took his attention off the screen, a smile immediately spreading across his face, as he thanked the person off camera for the food they gave him.
ignoring the comments curious of who was making the stone face streamer smile, “who got you smiling like that?” he read off, “none of your business.” the biggest mistake of his life. after that, every moment his attention was snatched from the stream, questions of if the loner had a special someone would flood his chat.
gamer shigiraki! who, for his 750k follower special, decided to stop being so introverted and answer some of his fans questions. “yes, I shower, next question.”, “i’ve been streaming for about 4 years.” he’s been avoiding all the girlfriend questions, not because he was embarrassed or ashamed, simply because he didn’t know if you would be comfortable with it, after all 90% of his viewers are men.
while in the middle of answering questions there was a knock on his door, you peeking through. he had been streaming for some hours now and hadn't eaten once, so you took it upon yourself to make him something. setting the plate down, he reached out to rub the small of your back, thanking you.
“can i say hi?” you whispered to him. you had been watching his stream and was genuinely alarmed by the amount of people who suspected him of having a girlfriend, not that they were wrong, it was just insane. You doubt that the comments would stop anytime soon so hey, why not give them what they want?
shigiraki was honestly surprised by the question, you have not once voiced any want to be on his stream, but he couldn’t hide the slight tint in his face of the thought of you showing interest in what he does. “of course.”
pulling you in by your waist to be in view of the camera, “hi!… what else do i say. I’m shigiraki’s girlfriend!” you smiled giving a small wave. the comments flooded with different variations of ‘no ways’ and ‘i knew its’. “how long have we been together?” he put a finger in his chin, “for about -no i’m not keeping her hostage- for about 5 years.”
nothing could hide the excitement on his face knowing that the person he loved so much was sitting next to him, interacting with his fans. after some time you stood up and stretched. “alright i’m gonna go now,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on his cheek and one last wave to his viewers “love you! don’t stream for too long today!” at the sound of the door closing, he turned his attention back to his viewers.
“no, i didn’t meet her in vr? what the fuck?”
lowk wanna make a pt 2
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18+, minor don't interact with the 18+ contentTomura shigaraki's biggest simpArtist, writter
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