Here Is A Doodle I Made Of My Oc In Color Quickly !

Title: Life in Carnet

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: PG-13, fluff. F!reader

Time: after Overhaul, before PLF

Summary: An issue has developed. Though, you can’t say you mind much. The future is yours.

A/n: This was supposed to be much longer and I may still add a second part later on, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for much too long and I decided it was finally time to just post it and let it out into the world!

Masterlist guidelines

—

The terrors of the underworld were almost too much for you at times. Watching over your shoulder just to be sure a knight in shining armor wouldn't pop out and slice you under the guise of misplaced justice.

There was no justice in a world so cruel. The arms of the masses kept those unfavorable in a tube. Never to be loved, never to be seen or heard. Though that tube would grow, freaks of nature holding hands inside the vessel, ready to break the glass.

It was almost poetic, knowing that loneliness could never touch you, it could only stand by and watch as you desecrated its makeshift grave.

You were not lonely— and you never would be again.

The deadly hands of the misunderstood held you close, a warm embrace that shunned all the coldness and misfortune in the world. You were like royalty, standing above those who were nothing but pawns ready to die for the cause.

You were not ready to die, you had finally spread your wings— you were ready to live.

And who better to stand by your side than the King of demise, Tomura Shigaraki.

In his own way, he had become the very thing he hated most— a symbol of peace. He gave hope to those the world had shamed, giving a reason to live to the ones left to rot in the gutters.

Hero's couldn't save everyone— Hero's didn't want to save everyone. Anyone who goes against their morals is doomed to suffer.

It pained you to see the children left to die on the streets, the addicts that had been deemed lost causes, and the broken who were left to crumble. You could see a piece of yourself in all of them, their rose tented glasses had been shattered and they were left to cut themselves on the glass.

Tomura didn't care much for any of them, and yet he had still managed to replace that in which had been broken.

He cared for the league, for the posey he had created with his own two hands. And he cared for you. The woman he saw cursing the world with blood stained hands.

Your introduction to the league wasn't pretty. You were dirty and untamed— having just taken the life of someone you held dear— there was darkness in your eyes.

No one asked you questions, no one made you feel like a freak. You became their healer— using your quirk to its fullest potential, never once holding back.

Your ability was known as the 'Touch of life'. Originally, you had hated your quirk. Being pawned off from person to person, forced to heal strangers who saw you as an object more than a person. Growing up you weren't allowed to attend school, forced to stay home and work— not a dime going into your pocket.

People were supposed to want to help people. That's what you had been told over and over again. You couldn't complain, you couldn't fight back or refuse to help.

You didn't want to help anymore.

The league never made you heal their scrapes and bruises, only asking for your services when it was absolutely necessary. You finally felt free— free to be a real human being.

And then Shigaraki, a man usually so careful with his hands, had sliced his palm. You couldn't even remember how— the memory had long since faded away. You grabbed him without thinking, taking his entire hand into your own, stitching the skin back together with a ray of light.

That's how you learned you were immune to decay. Your body fighting against his quirk so quickly it was at if he didn't have one at all.

And that's how you learned you loved your quirk after all.

Once it became apparent, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. He was like a wild animal hunting its prey— a touch starved villain feeling for the first time.

He was gentle with you, holding you close, running his calloused hands up and down your sides, forever in awe at the feel of your skin on his own. Awkward and untamed, vibrating with uncertainty and longing for more.

His kisses felt like fireworks, they seared into your skin, dangerous and yet oh so wonderful. He was addicted to you, and soon enough you were just as addicted to him.

Your relationship had no title— though with the way his scared lips would trail up your throat, nipping and pleading— you were sure it was love just the same.

Regardless of the tender kisses and soft touches, Shigaraki was still a deadly man. The king of the underworld, the high ruler of chaos.

So when you saw those glaring, unforgiving, bright pink lines, you found yourself being swallowed whole.

Your body was shaking, from fear or joy you couldn't be sure. It was unrealistic to bring a child into the world, especially when that world was crumbling— when the father was the one crumbling it.

You couldn't hold back a smile though, your anxieties fading quickly at the thought of a future. Placing your life giving hands over your abdomen— it felt right. You finally— undeniably— felt whole.

Dabi was the first one to notice you after you'd left the makeshift restroom, his piercing blue eyes looking you up in down with a frenzy.

"You look creepier than usual."

The rest of the leagues eyes met your own, their own curious glances boring into your soul.

"I have no idea what you mean by that— but I feel like I should be offended." You mocked a scoff, cocking your eyebrow in amusement.

Toga laughed, sitting up straight and tapping the cold cement floor beside her, urging you to sit with her. "You do look a little brighter than usual!"

You took the invitation, a small smile still grazing your lips. It was impossible to fully contain yourself— you were sure you'd explode if you had to reel in all of your facial expressions.

"I just got some good news is all— I wouldn't worry about it."

"Did that 12 handed freak finally propose or something?"

A small snort left your lips, "No, not to my knowledge. Speaking of— where is he?"

"Ohhh, so it does have to do with him!" Toga wiggled her eyebrows, giggling to herself.

Your relationship with Shigaraki wasn't a secret. Neither of you had said anything to anyone, but you weren't actively hiding it either— it just was.

Giving the teen a gentle shove you allowed yourself to let out a soft laugh of your own, "doesn't everything have to do with him?"

You got a strong mumble of agreement from the group, their annoyed expressions almost making you laugh fully.

"He said he'd be back before nightfall." Dabi finally metered, "Then again, who knows?"

Humming in response you decided to sit tight, pulling a heavily water damaged book out of your backpack.

— — —

Somewhere along the pages of Prince Charming finally realizing the girl of his dreams was only a few feet away— you had dozed off.

It wasn't often you got the privilege of sleep, the constant traveling and change of pace was hard on your body and mind. So being shaken awake wasn't exactly something you'd normally let slide— but seeing those carmine eyes so full of worry, you decided it wasn't a hill worth dying on today.

"Good morning." You sighed, slowly blinking the harsh tingling of your sleep deprived eyelids away.

Tomura wasn't amused by your lackluster approach, his body basically caging you in from where you sat, his eyes growing darker by the second.

"How are you feeling?"

At first his question confused you— your dreams still drifting away as reality tried to take over. Oh yes, that's right— he'd known you hadn't been feeling well.

If you weren't so sleepy you'd probably be more embarrassed over the fact that you had in fact— only grabbed a handful of pregnancy tests and booked it out of the closest convenience store. You hadn't even tried to get anything else.

A giggle left your lips as you leaned forward and gave your captor a kiss on the cheek, "it's fine don't worry about it."

Sighing he shifted so he was sitting beside you, his hand immediately grabbing yours. He loved holding your hand— you weren't sure if it was just to remind himself that he could or if it was lasting deprivation from being touched starved for so many years— but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, so long as he never let go.

"You haven't been eating right."

It was a statement meant to guilt you, to force you to tell him every single thing that's been bothering you— to outline your sickness in a bullet point list so he could take care of you.

"Is that so?" You turned to him with a raised brow, daring him to continue on with his spiel.

He, ever so observant, took the bait and ran with it.

"You can't keep anything down, you're light headed, and you're way too exhausted for everything to be fine." His voice broke a bit at the end, and with good reason. Not being in good health while simultaneously living on the streets isn't exactly a good combo.

He cared about you too much to let anything bad happen. After dealing with the yakuza he'd slowed down entirely, refusing to move too fast or too far until he knew exactly what needed to be done— all because you weren't feeling good. He'd never say it out loud— but it was easy to tell.

"It's not something I'll die from, modern medicine will make sure of that."

Turning his head and looking you up and down, he had a borderline disgusted look on his face.

"You've been sick for how long now? And you've shown no signs of getting better."

You hummed, putting your hand on your chin and pretending to think. "Yeah I'd say it's been a good two months now."

"This isn't a joke."

Giving him a serious expression, you replied "I know it isn't, you definitely aren't going to think it's funny—the league might though."

He smacked his head against the back of the crate the two of you were leaning on, looking up at the broken ceiling. "So you are dying."

"I already told you I won't die." You punched his arm, "I'll just be out of commission for a little while."

"And what, exactly, does that mean?"

You let out a nervous laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder, "it means next time we go out we're gonna have to steal some prenatal vitamins."

You felt his body stiffen under you after a few minutes, his mind putting the dots together painfully slowly. This isn't exactly how you thought this conversation would go— though knowing Tomura, he'd never expected this conversation at all.

"Oh."

Afraid to see his expression, you kept your eyes towards the floor, squeezing his hand that was still wrapped in yours.

"Is that okay..?"

It was silent for a while, the sound of the other members snoring being the only noises keeping you sane. You knew this may not go over well, even as excited as you were, Tomura had an entire world to destroy, he had people to kill and a kingdom to build. How would a baby fit into that life?

Finally, you felt a large inhale from under you— taking that as permission you looked up to his face, surprised when you saw the fond look in his eyes and the soft smile on his lips.

"Yeah, that's more than okay."

You sat up, lifting your head off of his shoulder to look him directly in the eyes, awe, ever apparent, on your face.

"Really? You aren't mad?"

A dastardly grin made its way onto his face, his pearly white teeth glistening in the moonlight. Truly— it was a sight to behold.

"I don't see anything wrong with carrying on my lineage— especially not with you." He chuckled, a dark frenzy coming into his eyes, "besides, you hang back anyways, nothings going to hurt you."

You thought on his words. It was technically true, being a healer meant you weren't fighting so much as laying low and taking care of the aftermath— the only change you could see happening is you not being on the battlefield at all, staying at the base until they returned.

But that came with some risks on its own.

"You're taking this better than I thought you would."

That same gleam was in his eyes as he looked you over, his hands making their way around your waist as he pulled you into a tight embrace, inhaling the scent of your not-so-freshly washed hair.

"I suppose I should be nervous. But I always knew this was a risk." He took in a breath, a laugh passing through as he thought it over, "I'm ready for anything. I'm going to destroy this world, but that doesn't mean I can't make my own in the process."

The Tomura before you was different than the one you had fallen in love with. He was different than the one that pulled you off the street and gave you a reason to live— this Tomura was confident, this Tomura had a plan.

This Tomura knew what he wanted.

Sanctuary of Nightmares PT1

Platonic SB x GN Child Reader

Part 2

Tw: bad parents, small amounts of blood

Summery: Confusion was a good word to describe your life. Even in your short amount of time on this planet you've been tangled in strings of 'why' and 'how could you'. You jumped from one painful expirence to the next as the world tangled you in its grasp, silencing you in the pain of its grip.

It was in these strings of pain that fate led you, it pulled you towards its hell on earth. Day by day you grew closer to it and, in one final betrayal, you were set on a path of horror in something you once thought of as a blissful sanctuary.

-

The Freddy Fazbear Mega PizzaPlex. What a name huh? It was one that drew the attention of families from all over the area. It was the destination for kids and teens, no other place was anything like it! The high-tech animatronics the place was known for were what really sold the show. And for a young kid like yourself, it was mesmerizing. The lights, the sounds, the games! You dreamed of seeing it. Of escaping to the child's wonderland. 

To escape this hell...

But those seemed like fever dreams to your tiny mind. Your parents would never allow it, not with your 'bad behavior'. Daydream all you want, but there was no escaping the scornful glare of your mother or the apathetic stare of your father. Try as you might you never could please them. Whether it was the wrath of your mother or the disconcern and neglect of your father, you had never been allowed such childlike pleasures. Any time you'd gain the courage to ask for anything, even as small as a candy bar, they'd harp on how bad of a child you were, how you were always so selfish, and that you always asked so much of them. So you learned not to ask. Hell, you'd grown the habit of not talking at all. It only ever got you into more trouble. So you remained silent throughout your young life. 

Today seemed no different. Having spent hours waiting in a car for your parents, not daring to disobey your mothers command to stay there. Luckily it was cooler outside so you were fine with waiting. You entertained yourself with thoughts of toys and Candy, of fun and games, of a life you didn't live.

It was your eighth birthday after all and while neither one of your parents seemed to care, you sure did.

After your mothers trip outside the car she got back in and went on her normal routine to pick up your father. It was only a few seconds later that her yelling started. You heard the first few screams about how 'she didn't want to have to babysit' and how your father 'should just get rid of you if he doesn't want you'. It was after those yells that you zoned out. The common screams blended in woth the low hum of the car as you let your mind drift to more pleasant things. Like birthday cake and ice cream.

This went on for hours which was rather unsual as the house wasn't to far away from your fathers work. You chose not to take note of it though and instead completely dissociate from the situation causing those hours to pass by like minutes. You weren't aware of the conversation your parents were having nor how this chosen ignorance would come to shape your life.

"Y/N!" Your name cut through your wandering mind, earning your attention as you quickly swiveled your head towards the front of the car, locking eyes with your mother.

"Get out" she spoke, though the words almost didn't register with you. You looked around, realizing you weren't anywhere you recognized. You quickly looked back to your mother with confusion and hints of fear found in your expression. Her eyebrows only tilted further down at what she perceived as not only an insult, but outright disobedience.

"I said get out!" She repeated, causing you to jump once again, her tone was enough to melt away your confusion for the moment as your mind went on auto-drive, immediately following through with what she told you to do.

The sun was quickly finding its way to the horizon, the light of its burning fire only seeming brighter in the moments before sunset would come. The rain that had fallen only a few minutes earlier gave the air a denser, almost suffocating weight to it. Your small shoes fell on the concrete, a tiny splash made in the puddle that had formed in the more worn parts of the sidewalk. You quickly held your body, the cold air nipping at your exposed skin almost immediately. You looked back to the car wondering why you were told to get out. 

"Right up that rode is that mall you wanted so badly to see. Go see it" she spoke with venom in her voice before quickly turning the car around, an action that confused you at first until she began to drive away. You felt your heart drop, the reality of what was happening immediately choking you. You stood frozen, confused, and now incredibly terrified as the familiarity of your life sped away. You ran about two steps in a panic to not be left behind but ultimately didn't make it far in your vain attempt as you tripped over a jagged and crumbled part of the sidewalk. You fell on your hands and knees, skidding them against the sidewalk with an immediate stinging pain claiming them. You looked up, your mouth open to cry out for your parents thoigh not a word left, the distant car too far to ever have heard you.

You were left in silent isolation as their ultimate betrayal to you.

You stayed that way for a few moments, tears falling silently from your eyes as you tried to compose yourself. After a moment you attempted to stand, though the sting of your open wounds brought regret as you did so. When you finally did pull yourself up you tried to wipe your wet and dirty hands on your clothes, though the sting of them made you wince. They weren't bleeding, but they were still in quite a lot of pain. You couldn't say you got that lucky with your legs though as small amounts of blood soaked into your pants. You sniffled, sucking it up as you began to turn your head in every direction in hopes of finding out where you were. It was a mostly wooded area, though a long road led you straight. There didn't seem to be anyone around, the deathly silent air filling you with more dread than you already felt.

You had never been completely alone before, let alone dropped in what you considered to be the middle of nowhere. You tried to think, to find some type of rational thought, but in your tiny mind the world now laid out in front of you was so daunting you almost couldn't comprehend it.

Your situation was akin to an ant taken from outside and put into a house. The relative size of everything around it made it insignificant and miniscule in its surroundings.

After a moment of this betrayed confusion you eventually did find a thought, one that your spirit clung to for dear life.

'The PizzaPlex...she said it was up the road...just up the road...' You tore your eyes from the unknown darkness that was soon to creep around you and instead focused your eyes ahead of you. You had a goal, something to move towards, something familiar. So, one small foot after the other, you began to walk. Your legs stung as you moved them but it wasn't anything you hadn't felt before, nor was it enough to tear you from your goal. You had no other thought but to get to that PizzaPlex. In your mind it was the only place left, the only familiarity in your now infinite and terrifying world.

So you dragged on, despite your now very recent status as completely independent. 

-

It was a long walk, one filled with small breakdowns as you tried to understand what was happening, to understand why you would be left like this. Despite these small breakdowns your mind mostly left you as your feet moved. As if detached from your own body you trudged on, your body seemingly moving on its own. The sun seemed to fall at a quicker pace the longer you walked which causing a new fear to sneak into you. One of being alone in the silence of the night. Thankfully you saw the shining building before then, like a beacon to your mind lost in a sea of dread. Yet even with its light glow, the place looked different than you remembered it in the small glimpses you ever saw on tv. It was darker, more daunting. 

As you coninued you noticed the lack of people, though there were still vehicles in the parking lot. It wasn't long until you realized most of those were vans with the Fazbear logo all over them. Some had all of the mascots on them, the familiar characters easily recognized by you. After taking a couple of curious yet hesitant steps you realized that this must be the back of the building. That theory was only further assured as you walked closer and noticed fences, likely to keep people from parking here since they didn't go very far. You could hear voices, the sounds of people in the distance that only grew as you drew closer, though they remained echoes in the orange-covered world the lowering sun created.

You soon made it to a back door, your head turning to look around as you searched for any sign of someone else. When you saw no one you attempted to open said door, only to quickly realize it was locked. You were just about to start walking around to find another door when a loud clang rang in your ears. In instinct you ran to the nearby van, hiding behind the wheel of it in hopes that whatever made the sound wouldn't find you. After a long bout of silence, and with your childhood sense of curiosity still intact, you slowly peaked from your hiding spot, your eyes scanning the area for what could have created the noise. 

It took a while for you to pinpoint it, but your eyes eventually fell on a vent cover that laid on the ground. Following it, your eyes scanned over a large trash bin, up a wall, and eventually landed on the source of where it came from. A now open hole in the building was the origin of the vent cover. You stayed staring at it for a moment, afraid that something might come out of it, but when silence rang for a few more minutes you slowly made your way out of your hiding spot. In a slow step you walked over to the open vent, your curious mind overtaking you. With a great struggle you pulled yourself up onto the garbage bin, the vent now just slightly above your head. You paced your hands on the edges and slightly pulled yourself up to look into the vent. Besides the increase in noise you didn't notice much, just an empty vent. It wqs this observation that led a confused look to fall on your face.

How did it even open-?

Just as that thought entered your mind you were pulled away from it and instead to the sound of the door you had been at only moments prior as it began to open. In a spike of fear and a moment of poor decision making you fully pulled yourself into the vent to get away from whoever or whatever may have been coming through the door. In what must have been nothing more than a miracle you managed to do so, but you were more so focused on the extreme pain in your hands rather than the feat you had just performed. 

The vent was small, but so were you which made it not too uncomfortable to be in. The scent pizza and sugar hit your nose as the smell of the pizzaplex finally made it to you. It caused a low grumble in your stomach as you realized the hunger that ate at you. You were able to push the empty feeling away though as you focused your mind on more important things, like the fact that you should probably get moving considering whoever was at the door could have noticed you. 

And so in what was frankly just calm panic you began to crawl your way further in, the stinging of your hands and knees only getting worse the longer you were forced to put pressure on them.

It was about ten minutes into this process that a sound caught your ears. Sure, there were noises happening all around you, but the world that laid just below you was muffled. The sounds of children, arcade machines, and other related noise seemed like they were off in the distance. What had caught your ear wasn't as muffled, in fact it sounded almost clear. You stopped your movement in hopes that you could identify what the sound was.

It was then that you heard the melody of it, the frantic sound of what you assumed was some type of music box. You listened, confused as to why it echoed in the vent, why ot was growing closer. It didn't take long for the reality of the sound to dawn on you.

There was something else in here with you.

And by the sound of it, it wasn't too far behind. 

With your heart picking up the pace once again you decided to hurry your movements, hoping to escape whatever it was. It didn't help that the melody only grew louder and, terrifyingly, came with the skittering sound of metal quickly approaching. You turned your head to look behind you for a second only to see a familiar-looking but unknown mechanical musical creature not far behind. With a small yelp, you turned ahead and shoved your way out of the closest open vent. A poor decision as you found yourself tumbling down a few boxes before finally landing on the floor. 

Seeing as adrenaline was quickly rushing through your veins you didn't register the pain at first, instead quickly readjusting yourself to stare back up at the vent you had just left in fear that it would continue to follow you. You backed up as the creature made its way to the edge of the vent and stared down at you. With what emotion you weren't sure, though you assumed it didn't very much like you as it quickly scuttled back in once you were out. You continued to stare up at the vent for a moment as you caught your breath, your fear slowly leaving and the pain sinking back in. After a moment you slowly stood, though you were now on rather wobbly legs. Once you did you finally decided to slowly tear your eyes away from the vent to look around, hoping to find out where you were. While the room you were in didn't seem to have anyone around, you could hear voices that seemed even closer than before. Following the noise you walked around a short hallway before you were met with a set of doors, the sound of people now very clearly behind them. You were a bit apprehensive about opening the door but considering you couldn't go back the way you came you decided to push them open. You were met with shining neon lights that draped the surrounding area and the many groups of walking people in a pink hue. What to your childlike mind felt like hundreds of people were passing by as you peaked out of the door. But, whether it was due to your tiny stature or the excitement of the surroundings, not one laid an eye on you. Slowly, and hoping to not raise suspicion, you fully crept out the door, letting it shut behind you. You still stayed stuck to the wall though, not moving from your spot as you continued to look around.

It was more mesmerizing than you'd ever imagined it. The bright lights, the delicious smells, the joyful sounds. So far removed were you from angered yelling and dangerous rage, from being scolded for wanting such amazing things. You stood now in a place you could only consider as a land of dreams- your dreams. You'd spent so long imagining being here and now you stood, amazed by it all. 

It was a magical first impression so far beyond what your mind could have conjured. But it was after that shock faded and after you slowly acclimated to it all that everything began to hit you all at once.

Everything hurt. Your'e hungry- thirsty. Ow! Where are your parents- You were alone- alone. You were in a crowd of strangers. Your parents were gone, your home! You had nothing! Why here? Why leave you here?! You wanted home, you wanted your bed, you wanted familiarity.

The lights were an off hue now, one that strained your eyes, the voices of the people were so loud and- Ow! Your hands, your knees, they stung as your cement burned skin was exposed. Trying to alleviate the pain you fell down the wall, tears pricking at your eyes as the overwhelming situation took its toll on your small body. The passers-by didn't notice. You were too insignificant in the amazement of the colossal pizzaplex. You felt suffocated, like you were drowning in the fear of it all. All of it felt like it was collapsing onto you, like the whole world was caving in. You wanted it to stop stop stop STOP-

"Hello?" A voice called. Through the murmurs, laughs, and outright yelling that came from all around you, that voice stuck out. You snapped from your panicked state, your head turning towards where it came from. You froze when you met the eyes of a stranger. They dawned a gray top and pants to match with a nametag on their chest. They towered over you, everything did really. Their expression was confused, if not irritated.

"You lost?" They asked with exasperation in their tone. You hesitated on answering, unsure of their intentions. After a moment you nodded, your throat too tight to even attempt to speak right now. Your answer seemed to only further agitate the stranger, their annoyance now visible in the way their eyes stared.

“Do you know where you came from? Where your family is?” They asked, their tone now harsh on your ears. You gave absolutely no answer this time, the fear of this stranger's presence only sinking in the longer you talked to them. That didn't seem to go over well either. In fact it went over even worse than when you’d given them at least an attempt at an answer,

“Screw this, I'm supposed to be on break” They grumbled before reaching into their pocket and pulling out a small device. It clicked before they spoke.

"I've got a lost kid on the first floor, left side in the front. They said they should be at the daycare but got lost" they spoke into the device, pulling it away once they were finished and placing it back in their pocket. They stayed standing over you for a while, not speaking another word. It was a few minutes later that a robot came rolling down, a small siren flashing on its head to warn the customers to move out of the way. It stopped in front of you and only once it did so did the person turn back to you. 

"This robot's going to take you to the daycare. Just follow it" was the last thing they spoke before walking off. You turned to look up at the robot with the shock of what just happened slowly sinking in.

It didn't look all that unique. Just a general worker bot. Either way, you were now in its care and though you were confused and frightened by the turn of events, you decided it best not to question it. You had thought you were in trouble when the worker had approched you since you most definitely were not supposed to be here, but it seems the world had different plans for you.

Different plans indeed

THIS MASTERPIECE !✨✨✨

Once Upon a Time

Summary: You’re no princess but he’s no Prince Charming. It seems only fitting that a deranged little vagabond down on her luck would run into the big, bad villain himself in a seedy bar. Perhaps he’ll make a queen of you yet.

Rating: Very Explicit

Warnings: Rape/Non-con/Severe dubcon (listen, I’m not fuckin’ around on this one. If you’re even slightly squeamish or traumatized in this department, don’t. There’s a really fucked up, unrealistic dynamic going on here. And don’t read it and then @ me because it’s glorifying/romanticizing. IDC.) Spitting (specifically him into your mouth.) Manhandling, alcohol, abusive actions, choking, slight stalking, unhealthy and toxic relationships, depictions of violence, blood, biting, cursing, degradation, dirty talk, cringey dialogue, cliche storyline, poorly written by a bad author.

Length: Fuckin’ long.

Anyway, take this sack of flaming garbage. It sucks but it’s driving me nuts in my drafts. Sorry for infecting your feed with this shit, you have my apologies.

There is absolutely nothing charming about this bar. 

A shitty hole-in-the-wall dive located in a back alley in the shady part of town, complete with watered down booze, haughty patrons, and a sinuous 15 minute walk to the nearest train station because no one who comes here willingly is leaving sober. The drinks are cheap but you certainly make up for the money you save in the quality of the company you keep while you’re inside. 

Dilapidated plywood walls littered with fist and foot shaped holes from drunken brawls and floors that hadn’t been cleaned since the day they were laid. None one quite knows what the original color was anymore, not now that they were covered in all manner of Christ knows what. The smell of cheap alcohol seems to have permeated the pores of the building itself to give it the permanent stench of 5 dollar gaso-liquor. 

This isn’t a place where a princess finds her Prince Charming, and no storybook fairytale has ever crossed paths with the building or extended its mercy to the patrons. That works just fine for you. You’re not here to find your happily ever after unless that happily ever after entails getting black out drunk and stumbling back home with a few new bruises and someone’s blood between your knuckles. 

Afficher davantage

Accidental Boyfriend Drabble: Want A Hug

You can hear him smile.

Every mumbled word carries the grin on his face over to you. You are on different sides of campus right now but you feel his smile in every cell of your body. It is soft, fuzzy and so warm.

“How do I get the aim window again?” You ask.

“Hold shift.”

“Hm!” You aim with your character and shoot down fruit that turn into ingredients for potions once you pick them up. “Hehe.”

“Good job,” he says.

You smile, “you're so patient with me.”

“You're fine,” he chuckles. “This is so fun. I like explaining it to you… over and over and over.” He jokes.

“It is,” you agree. “But if you keep smiling like that your cheeks will go numb.”

“What?” He laughs. “I am not smiling! Pff how'd you know?”

“I know,” you say softly. You picture him all cosy with the cat ear headset on. Your heart aches. “I miss you.”

“How?” He nearly giggles. You were together just this morning and now you are spending time with each other too. What do you mean?

“I just do,” you shrug. “Want a hug.”

Tomura thinks. He wouldn't be opposed to a hug right now… not at all and if you want one… well. “Okay…. Then I'll come over and give you a hug?” You asked for one afterall… why wouldn't?

You hear how he gets up. “Tomura–” you chuckle. “I mean… I was serious but you really don't–”

“No. I'm coming. Already on my way,” he says and you hear the door fall shut.

You laugh. “I'll meet you halfway.” You quickly put on your slipper and head down the hallway.

“Are we hanging up? We see each other in approximately 3 minutes?” He asks.

“No! I'll miss you even more.” You hurry down the path. Students are still lingering around even though it's evening and all classes have finished for the day.

“Aren't you being a bit dramatic?” Tomura says with softness.

“Not at all!” You giggle.

“I can literally see you already.”

“And? Stay on the phone with me… I'll be lonely.”

“You're being silly.” He says as you fall into his arms, nuzzling your face into his hoodie.

“I'm silly for you,” you smile.

“That makes no sense?” He squeezes tightly, feeling so much relief to his whole body whenever he is close to you.

You stay like that for a long moment. He just holds you. You like being close to him so much. The chemistry is just there. How could you be blind to it in the beginning?

What if you hadn't asked him that day but someone else? What if he hadn't misunderstood you? You are right where you need to be. It all happened because you, for sure, are meant to be. That thought makes you blush and you squeeze him even tighter.

“Okay… Okay,” he chuckles. “You got your hug… now let's get back to the game. You can make it to level 25 today.”

“With your help, absolutely!” You smile.

You nod and you turn around again, walking back to your dorms. The call never ended. You are maybe just 10 meters apart when you turn around again.

“Tomura?” You say into your phone.

“Hm?” He turns and looks at you.

“My boyfriend in high-school always made me feel like it's a burden to spend time with me and I had friends who told me that sometimes I am ‘too much’.”

He listens, not really understanding why you are telling him. He can't tell if you are upset… he is micromanaging even the smallest changes in tone and facial expressions of the people around him, so he never misses when he has made someone upset– it doesn't always work– right now he cannot tell at all what you feel. Did he do something wrong?

You suddenly smile. It is unlike any smile you shared with him so far. He stops breathing. This smile is so authentic, so raw and thankful. “You never make me feel like that. Thank you, Tomura.”

Oh.

We got 2 different Tomuras today

Narinder is Coming

Well..Tomura come here baby🤌✨

Who is it?💕

Haunting for Beginners (Chapter 2) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Ghosts summoned and bound to the human world have one purpose - haunting - but Tomura's never met a human he could stand long enough to haunt them, and he's pretty sure he never will. When you cross the threshold of his house, you capture his interest, and for the first time, he finds himself with a chance to do what ghosts are meant to do. It's too bad he doesn't know how. Scenes from Love Like Ghosts, as seen through the eyes of the ghost in question. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

It doesn’t take Tomura long to figure out the problem with wanting things: Getting the thing he wants doesn’t make the wanting go away. It works for a little while. Sometimes even long enough to make Tomura think it’s gone for good. But it always comes back, and when it does, it feels just as itchy and awful as before. Worse, maybe, because now Tomura knows what it feels like to have the thing he wants.

He wants you to talk to him, and you do talk to him. At first he doesn’t care what you’re saying. He just – likes – the sound of your voice, and he likes that it’s just for him, that if he wasn’t there you’d be quiet except for talking to the dog. The dog’s name is Phantom. Tomura’s decided that he doesn’t mind sharing your attention with Phantom. Phantom was here first, and it pays attention to Tomura, too – and it can’t talk back. Tomura could. Can. Maybe.

At first he doesn’t care what you’re saying, but soon enough, he starts to. He has to, because sometimes you’re upset about things, and if you’re too upset about things, you might leave. Once he starts paying attention to when you’re upset, he starts to see differences in it. There’s sad-upset, when your voice is quiet and your movements are slow and even Phantom jumping up in your lap doesn’t make you smile. There’s angry-upset, when you’re still quiet, but you’re restless and pacing, every piece of you tense. And then there’s frustrated-upset, when something small has gone wrong, or when there’s something you don’t understand or can’t fix.

Tomura sees frustrated-upset more and more as the days go by. And the realization creeps up on him slowly, the same way everything did when time didn’t matter, that the thing you’re frustrated with is him.

He’s mad that you’re frustrated with him at first. He’s not doing anything except helping you – helping you with the coyote, helping you get rid of the humans who came over when you didn’t invite them, helping you get rid of one of the ghosts and its weird human when they invite themselves over, too. What right do you have to get mad at him? Tomura spends a solid week and a half sulking before he realizes why you’re frustrated with him, at which point he discovers a new feeling. He doesn’t know what to call it, but it’s spiky instead of itchy, and it feels urgent, like he has to do something about it right now. You’re mad at him because he’s shown himself to other people, talked to other people, but not to you. That means you want to see him. Tomura has to figure out how to make it happen.

The spiky feeling is terrible. It won’t let him have a second of peace. It’s always there, poking holes in his essence, prodding him to look for a way to make you see him. Ghosts in movies never let people see them all the way, but the ghosts in the neighborhood must have shown themselves to their humans at some point, or else they wouldn’t have them. How did they do it?

Tomura gets an answer, sort of, when you drop a bag of flour and he steps into the plume of white dust that rises up. If he has enough life-force to make himself even slightly substantial, things like dust or smoke or flour will settle around his form and show the rest of him. You’ve figured it out, too. Tomura was already pretty sure you wanted to see him, but the number of times you turn and spray water at him to reveal him only proves it. You’re weirdly accurate about it, too. You always seem to know where Tomura is, and that makes Tomura feel – something.

He watches you all the time, learning about you. You might not be able to watch him, but you’re learning things about him, too.

Tomura doesn’t want you to learn things about him. You might get it wrong. The only way to make sure you don’t is to find a way to talk to you, and Tomura doesn’t know how to give himself a voice. All he can do is give himself hands. He could write something with his hands. Where? There are pens and paper all over your house, but when Tomura tries writing, his hands are clumsy and useless, smearing letters across the page and covering his hands in ink. Then he has to hide the evidence before you get home. Phantom helps out. When Tomura sweeps the papers off the table in a fit of frustration, it eats them.

Tomura could write with a pen, maybe, if he practiced more. But he’s too impatient for that. You’re frustrated with him. Frustrated means you could leave. He needs a solution now. He spends days thinking about it, then weeks, only for the answer to come to him at the absolute last minute – when you’re in the shower, and the bathroom is full of steam, the mirror fogged until it’s almost opaque.

If Tomura lets the steam show his form, and makes a hand to write on the mirror – you switch off the water in the shower, and Tomura scrambles for something to drain. He’s just barely found a spider, barely trapped it in a coil of his essence, when you step out of the shower wrapped in a towel. Tomura materializes a shadow of himself, more than he’s ever materialized before, standing squarely in your path. You’ve been trying to see him. If he’s going to show himself to you, he’s going to make sure you see everything.

Your eyes are wide as you look at him, but you aren’t screaming or running, and you don’t try to wave him away like you did the first time he showed himself to you. Tomura’s stupid itching starts again, stronger than it’s ever been, and for the first time he tries to scratch it. He scratches it and studies you. Now he gets why you always look so proud when you make him show himself. He’s showing himself, finally, and you’re not mad at him. That’s worth being proud of.

There’s a sensation he hasn’t experienced before, in his face. Tomura has a face right now, and it’s doing something weird. You turn away from him, and he raises the hand that’s not scratching to touch the spot where a mouth would be on a human, where his mouth is. His lips feel dry and rough, and they’re curved upwards. He’s – smiling. Humans smile when they’re proud, sometimes. He’s doing it right.

He can’t see himself in the mirror. He doesn’t have a reflection. You do, even when the mirror’s coated in steam. You aren’t looking at Tomura. You’re looking at the mirror, like you’re waiting for him to write on it, and just as Tomura’s reaching forward to write ‘hello’, you speak up. “You’re my ghost.”

Your ghost. Tomura is your ghost, just like you’re his human – and you talked to him first. The feeling of like multiplies through Tomura’s essence as he materializes one finger to write in the steam on the mirror. Yes.

“Who are you?”

Tomura tilts his head, just like the dog does when it’s confused. He thought you knew. Your ghost.

“Who am I?”

That question makes sense. Tomura knows the answer now. Mine.

“No.” Your bare shoulders stiffen, and Tomura’s itching gets even worse. “What do you mean?”

Mine to haunt, Tomura writes. That one’s easy.

He can’t tell how you feel about the answer, though. Humans in the movies you watch don’t like being haunted. But you still aren’t running away. You ask another question. “What should I call you?”

That one’s not as easy. Tomura feels his expression distort, and you speak up again to explain more. You’re explaining things now. He should have talked to you a long time ago. “Your name.”

That’s easy, too. Tomura writes it out as fast as possible, before you can change your mind. “Tomura,” you say, and the feeling of like and the feeling of want engulf Tomura together. Like what? Want what? “Hi.”

Hi.

Tomura’s said hi. Now it’s your turn to talk. He waits, and you ask him a question. “Tomura, what do you want?”

He likes hearing you say his name. He doesn’t like when he doesn’t know the answer. He wants you to talk to him, and he wants to talk to you. He wants you to see him, like he sees you. And. And there’s something else, something he can’t put his finger on. Putting his finger on. He has fingers now. He can touch things. What if he touches –

The spider he’s been slowly draining in order to materialize goes cold, and all at once, Tomura’s out of time. He reaches desperately for the mirror, trying to write again, but his fingers dematerialize, and all he can do is swipe through the messages, wiping them out. Your eyes widen with unmistakable fear, and you bolt, fleeing from the bathroom to the bedroom. Tomura doesn’t chase you. Tomura’s too busy searching for something to kill, something to drain, so he can keep talking and explain that you shouldn’t be scared of him, that he’s not going to hurt you, just haunt you – not like the ghosts in movies haunt, but the way the ghosts in Tomura’s neighborhood must have haunted their humans, before they stopped being ghosts. You’re his human. Why would he scare you? He doesn’t want you to leave.

But you are leaving. The front door slams, and when Tomura chases after you, he sees your car pull out of the driveway, you in the front seat with wet hair and clothes that don’t match, and the dog in the backseat, curled up tight. You’re leaving. You haven’t left in the car and taken the dog since the night the coyote attacked you. What if you don’t come back?

Tomura tells himself to count minutes – it’ll make a smaller number – but he finds himself counting seconds instead, and they pile up faster than he can track. So do the feelings. Missing, but worse. Wanting, but more intense. Anger, but aimed in the wrong direction – not at you, not at the other ghosts, not at their humans. At himself. He messed this up so badly that you’re leaving him, and without life-force to materialize hands and write, he can’t fix it. The feelings build and build until Tomura’s essence can’t contain them, and he lets them all loose in an anguished howl that breaks window in every house on the street except the one he’s supposed to share with you.

Tomura’s not sorry about it, and he doesn’t care that the other ghosts and their humans are mad at him – but he does feel a little stupid when you come back. You aren’t leaving him. Why would you leave him? You said he was your ghost, so why would you leave? You come back to the house, and better yet, you say his name the instant you’ve crossed the threshold. “Tomura, can we talk?”

You didn’t just come back, you want to see Tomura again. And talk to him. Tomura still doesn’t have an answer to the question you asked him, but he can think of other things to talk about. He comes closer to you, shadowing you as you climb the stairs and step into the bathroom again. You turn the water on hot, standing still as the bathroom fills with steam. Tomura waits, too. The instant the steam is thick enough, he burns the life-force he collected while you were away to materialize an outline of himself.

He knows it’s a mistake the second he does it. If he doesn’t have life-force, he can’t make hands, which means he can’t write – which means the two of you can’t talk. But when you speak up, he realizes that he doesn’t need to write to answer your first question. “Tomura,” you say cautiously, and Tomura’s mouth curves upwards before he can stop himself, “are you mad at me?”

Tomura shakes his head. He wants to do something stronger than shake his head, but he doesn’t want to startle you and make you run away again. But it’s a stupid question. You’re his human, and you came back, and you want to see him and talk to him. What is there for him to be mad at? If Tomura could just say all that, things would be fine, but he used all his energy on making you see him. Your next question tells him that it was an even bigger mistake than he thought. “If you’re not mad at me, why won’t you talk to me?”

Tomura can’t talk to you. If he could, he would, but all he can do is shake his head again. You can see him, sure, but seeing’s not good enough – just like it’s not good enough for Tomura, not now that he knows the two of you could be talking instead. You look upset again. Sad-upset. You don’t leave the bathroom, and neither does Tomura, and the two of you look at each other while the steam slowly dissipates. Tomura waits for you to look away, but you don’t. You keep watching him, just like he watches you, and the itching kicks in again. Tomura wants to scream.

Why is it back now? He got what he wanted. All the things he wanted. You saw him and he talked to you and you came back and you know his name and you said his name – so why won’t the itching go away? What else could Tomura possibly want?

Something. Tomura wants something, and you must know that, or you wouldn’t have asked that question. Even if Tomura had an answer, he doesn’t have any way to tell you. All he can do is burn through the scant remains of his stolen life-force, staying visible to you as long as possible, wondering how he could have gotten everything he wanted and still wind up wanting to claw his essence apart.

Your sad-upset doesn’t go away, and to Tomura’s horror, you start spending less time in his house. Sure, you’re doing it because you’re talking to the other humans, or you’re working on your garden in the backyard, but you’re still avoiding the house. Avoiding him. Tomura’s house is empty more often than it’s been since you moved in. He hates it. He hates the way it makes him feel.

It’s a new feeling – not like wanting, although he’s been itching for weeks over just how badly he wants it to stop. The new feeling isn’t exactly new, either. It’s familiar, but now he has a name for the way he felt before you moved in. He felt that way for a hundred and ten years and it didn’t bother him, but it bothers him now. Maybe it didn’t bother Tomura because he didn’t know any different. Now he knows different, and the stupid new-but-not feeling – lonely – is agonizing. As days tick past, days where he can’t talk to you and you don’t try to talk to him, the need to do something, anything, about it grows.

There’s a hornets’ nest on the back porch, just like there is every summer. Tomura’s aware of it distantly – it’s just another part of his house – but it doesn’t actually capture his attention until he hears a string of curses from the backyard. It’s been so long since Tomura heard you say anything that wasn’t to the dog. He sweeps through the house and onto the back porch to find you sprawled out in the yard, clutching a hand that’s already been stung twice to your chest.

Tomura doesn’t know what pain feels like, but he knows what humans look like when something’s hurt them, and he sees you gritting your teeth, your jaw clenched. You get to your feet. Then you back slowly away from the nest, all the way to the far corner of the yard.

Tomura’s never paid much attention to the nest before, but now he doesn’t have a choice. You’re his human, and they’ve hurt you, just like the coyote would have hurt you if he hadn’t gotten to it first. Tomura should have dealt with this a long time ago. Even as he has the thought, he sees you set off, planning to deal with it on your own. And your plan is – bad.

It’s not just bad. It’s the dumbest plan Tomura’s ever seen. As soon as you’re out of sight, Tomura seizes the hornets’ nest in a dozen threads of essence and drains it for life-force. He has to get rid of them before you get back. There are hundreds of hornets inside the nest, more living things than Tomura’s ever drained before, more life-force than he knows what to do with. What should he do with it? Make hands, probably. With this much, he could make hands and keep them for hours. He could make hands, or –

Tomrua loses focus on the hornets as he pulls his essence together, forming the structure of a body from the hands up. One of them gets away as the rest of the nest crumbles to ash, and Tomura catches it by the wings, holding on as his feet hit the ground for the first time. Having a body is heavy. Tomura weighs something. He has height and width and mass. His chest feels tight, and he follows the impulse it demands of him – draw air inwards, then release it, an action he's seen humans undertake hundreds of millions of times. Something is rattling in his chest, setting up a rhythm of its own. Tomura realizes, with an odd sense of fascination, that it’s his heart.

It’s not really his heart, just like they aren’t really his hands. It’ll all be gone once he dematerializes again. Tomura tells himself that just in time for you to come back around the corner, wearing about five extra layers of clothes and dragging a garbage can.

You look as dumb as Tomura’s ever seen you look, and you look even dumber once you catch a glimpse of him and your eyes widen in shock. Tomura’s heart does something weird, and unlike his hands, it doesn’t stop doing it when he tells it to. “Um,” you start, still staring, as Tomura kills the last hornet and lets its ashes fall, “I was going to get that.”

Tomura knows. That’s why he got it for you. “I haven’t – not been talking to you,” he says. Now he sounds as dumb as you look. But he’s got a voice now. He can talk. That means he can explain. “I can’t influence this world without life-force. And I can’t get it from you or the dog.”

“Why not?”

What kind of question is that? “You’d die,” Tomura says. His body does something weird at the thought – twists, lurches, his chest turning tight. “My house would be empty.”

“And you don’t want it to be empty,” you guess. You’re right, and you must know you’re right, because you don’t wait for Tomura to answer. “Then why do you scare everybody away?”

Because everybody else isn’t you. “You left,” Tomura snaps instead. “You can’t leave.”

“Like hell I can’t,” you say. “I came back, didn’t I? I needed time to think. Your little temper tantrum with the mirror –”

“I couldn’t answer. I ran out of time.” It wasn’t a temper tantrum. Tomura kicks through the pile of ash, scattering it, realizing too late that doing it probably counts as a temper tantrum all on its own. “That spider wasn’t enough. No matter how slow I drained it.”

“So that’s why it was in one piece,” you say. You found it? No wonder you ran away – Tomura knows you hate spiders. “You drained the hornets faster, though. Does that work better?”

“I guess.” Tomura’s itching again. Scratching feels better when he actually has a neck to scratch. “We’ll see how long it lasts.”

You tilt your head, studying him. Then the worst thing Tomura’s ever heard you say comes out of your mouth. “You don’t know how this works, do you?”

“I know how it works,” Tomura snaps. “Shut up.”

No, that’s not right. Tomura doesn’t want you to shut up. He wants to talk to you, and he’s not sure how this is supposed to go, but he’s pretty sure it’s not going well. Something is happening to Tomura’s face. It feels tight and prickly, and when he lifts his hands to touch it, he figures out what that feeling is – it’s heat. “What is this? What’s happening to me?”

“I think you’re embarrassed,” you say. “You’re blushing.”

“No I’m not.” Tomura knows what blushing is. He hates it. He scratches harder, wondering if that will make it go away. “You can’t leave.”

“I can leave if I want to,” you say. “If you don’t want me to leave, you need to respect my rules.”

“Your rules?” Tomura scoffs. There’s no way the other ghosts put up with this stuff from their humans. Forget him not knowing how it works – you don’t know, either. “It’s my house.”

“And I can leave whenever I want to.”

Tomura knows that. He’s seen you do it, and he doesn’t want it so badly that he can feel everything inside his body crumpling around the thought. He wonders if you know you have him backed into a corner. You probably do, because you start in with your rules. “Rule number one: Stay out of the bathroom when I’m in there.”

“It was fine before.”

“It wasn’t. I just didn’t know about it,” you say. “Now that I do, I’m still not fine with it, and I want you to stop. Same with watching me at night.”

Tomura will cave on the bathroom thing. You don’t spend much time in there, anyway. But you spend a lot of time in the bedroom. He’s not giving up all those hours. “You sleep fine.”

“No, I don’t,” you say. “Stop.”

Why are you so stuck on this? Tomura’s not doing anything weird. It’s normal. “What, so it’s fine when he does it but not when I do?”

“What?” You look startled. No, scared. “Has someone else been in here?”

“No,” Tomura says. Maybe that’s why you’re acting so strange. You don’t know how haunting works, either. You don’t know that you’re his human, that he decides what happens to you, that he’s already decided not to hurt you. Not to hurt you, and not to let anything else do it. “Nobody comes in unless I let them.”

“Then who’s he?”

“The one in those movies you watched,” Tomura says. “He hangs out in that person’s bedroom all night and he doesn’t get in trouble.”

Now you look like you understand what he’s talking about. “You mean in Twilight? That’s not good either. She’s just too dumb to know it’s bad.”

Tomura knows that’s not right. Were the two of you even watching the same movie? “No hanging out in my room at night,” you continue. “Or I leave.”

“You’ll leave,” Tomura repeats, and his insides do that crumpling-up thing. He might hate that more than he hates the blushing. “And go where?”

“Anywhere,” you say. “I’m pretty sure you can’t follow me past the fences.”

If Tomura could do that, he would have. If he could do that, it wouldn’t make him – feel – so much when you leave. He can’t let you know that. He doesn’t want you to have that much power. “Who cares about what’s out there? I’ve got this.”

Tomura gestures at his house, his yard – you, since you’re his human. But as his hand crosses his own field of vision, he sees that it’s starting to thin out, going insubstantial. He’s dematerializing. The hornets’ nest wasn’t enough.  “No,” he explodes, not caring that you’ll hear, not caring that you’ll know. “Not yet. Damn it!”

“Hey,” you say quickly. “If you need energy to materialize and talk, I’ve got tons of weeds and mushrooms in the yard that you can kill.”

Tomura’s never heard your voice sound like that before. It’s softer, gentler, in spite of the urgency you’re speaking with. It makes him feel weird. “Or the blackberry bushes out by the fence,” you continue, still in that same tone of voice. “There’s ways for us to talk without you killing me or Phantom.”

Right. Now that Tomura knows how it works, maybe he doesn’t need a body to talk to you. Maybe he can just be a voice, like he’s just a pair of hands sometimes. Having a body is awful, anyway. It feels things and it doesn’t do what he tells it to do. “I have to go,” you say, and what’s left of Tomura’s face twists into a scowl that he doesn’t care at all about hiding. “I have to pick up some stuff to treat the stings I got, but I’ll be back later. We can talk more then.”

“You’ll come back,” Tomura says. He wants to say more, but his lungs and his throat and his vocal cords fall apart before he can.

“I’ll come back,” you promise, and some knot in Tomura’s essence relaxes. “I wouldn’t leave Phantom, and she likes you.”

Tomura knew making friends with the dog was a good idea. Or letting the dog make friends with him. He’s not really sure what happened there. The rest of his body falls away, and once it’s gone, you make your way up onto the porch and into the house. You’re not running. Not scared. You take off most of the extra layers of clothes until you look like you again, give the dog a kiss and a scratch behind its ears, and head out the front door. Phantom always looks happy about getting scratches. Now that Tomura knows what itching feels like in a human body, he wonders if you scratching his neck for him would make the itching go away.

He can’t ask you to scratch his neck. He’s not sure why he can’t, except that he knows somehow that it’s a weird thing to ask, and he’s just barely convinced you not to run away from him. Or has he? You weren’t talking to him like somebody who’s this close to running away from him. You were talking to him like – like –

Tomura doesn’t have a good word for it. He just knows he likes it. If he has to choose between you scratching his neck for him and you talking to him like that, he’d choose the talking in a heartbeat. He knows how long a heartbeat is now. He knows they happen fast.

You’re gone for a long time, long enough for Tomura to miss you, long enough for him to get angry about missing you. You’re gone long enough for the dog to get upset, to cry to be let out, so Tomura kills a few mushrooms and makes hands to open the door for it. You’re upsetting Phantom and Tomura at the same time. You need to come back soon. What’s taking so long?

When you finally come back, you’re carrying a lot of books, and you look tired. You look surprised to see the dog in the yard, but you don’t thank Tomura or say anything about it, and once you get inside, Tomura speaks first. He’s tired of waiting, and after he kills all the mushrooms in the front yard, he has enough life-force to make a body – and a voice. “Where did you go?” he demands. “You were gone for hours.”

“I went to see the neighbors,” you say. “To ask them about you.”

What? “Why didn’t you ask me about me?”

“Because you might life, and I needed the truth.” You look really tired. The stings on your hand are bright red and swollen. “They had a lot to say.”

That’s not good. The other ghosts need Tomura, but they don’t like him. If they liked him, they’d have talked to him, and they haven’t. “What did they say?”

“They said you’re strong,” you say. Tomura manages not to do the stupid blushing thing again. Maybe it only happens when what you’re saying isn’t true. “That’s why they moved here. Because you being so strong hides them from the people who summoned them.”

“It’s their fault they need to hide. They embodied themselves, like idiots.” Tomura wonders why he was worried that they’d lie about him. They can’t lie about him. They need him too much, and if he wanted to drive them out, it would be easy. “They can stay. I don’t care. As long as you stay.”

“I can stay,” you say. “I’ll be a lot more comfortable staying here if you give me some space.”

“Space,” Tomura repeats. “What kind of space?”

“When I’m in the bathroom. Humans like being alone in there,” you say. Tomura already decided to give up on the bathroom thing. He nods. “And at night when I’m sleeping. We like to be alone then, too.”

“Not everybody,” Tomura argues. He’s not caving on this one. “In those movies –”

“I’m not going to watch any more movies if you keep getting dumb ideas from them.” You’re calling Tomura dumb. If you were anybody else – “Life isn’t like movies. I like to be alone when I’m sleeping.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Do you sleep?”

“Sleeping is for humans,” Tomura says. He doesn’t understand why this is a problem, why you’re making it a problem. He cares about what you want. You should care about what he wants, too, because all this wanting is making him itch. Maybe he should explain. “It sounds nice when you sleep. I can’t hear it if I’m not in your room.”

“What sounds nice?” You look sort of alarmed. “What kind of noises am I making? Are they weird?”

“I don’t know,” Tomura snaps. He explained. Why did that make things worse? “I don’t know what noise humans are supposed to make when they’re sleeping. They don’t sound weird to me. They’re just – nice.”

You look like you’re thinking about something. Tomura waits. “I’m not fun to hang out with when I’m sleeping,” you say after a little while. “Why don’t we hang out more when I’m awake and I can talk to you?”

Tomura’s about to argue that he’s plenty entertained when you’re sleeping – and you don’t even have to do anything – before what you’re actually saying lands with him. You don’t just want to see him and talk to him. You want to spend time with him. What does that mean? Tomura could wait and find out, but he doesn’t want to wait and find out. He wants to know right now, because the itching’s even worse and his heart is beating faster and if it goes much longer, you might notice that he’s – what?

You don’t look like you’re noticing anything. “Well?”

“I need more life,” Tomura says, instead of yes, definitely, of course, what took you so long. “I killed all your mushrooms in the front yard. Find me something else and I’ll – hang out with you. You are boring when you sleep.”

“I’ll find something,” you say. Tomura’s body wavers, and when he glances down, he can see the floor through his feet. You notice too. “Thanks for letting Phantom out. I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon,” Tomura says. It had better be really soon. He doesn’t want to wait any longer than he has to.

When you said you’d find something, you must have really meant it, because you take your phone out and start messaging the other humans in the neighborhood, asking them to bring you bugs. You really hate bugs. If you’re asking for them, you must want to talk to Tomura a lot. Maybe as much as Tomura wants to talk to you. Not talk to you. Hang out.

You said hang out, and Tomura hovers over your shoulder, reading the texts and wondering if you’ll explain what “hang out” means. You don’t. Instead a shiver runs through you, one that says he’s gotten too close, that says the heat of your body and the cold of his essence don’t mix. Tomura couldn’t agree more. The few times you’ve walked through him by accident, it’s been gross. Tomura feels weird calling his human gross, but he doesn’t really have another word for it. Or he didn’t.

Now he knows what a human body feels like, and he knows it’s normal, so he doesn’t mind as much. You do. “Don’t,” you say. “I’ll get a chill.”

Tomura will back off when he’s ready, not because you told him to. But then he remembers what you said about space and needing it, and he draws away. You want to hang out with him. That’s better than tracking you when you don’t know he’s there, better than watching you sleep, better than writing on the mirror. Hanging out. Maybe that will be the thing that makes the itching go away for good.

Tentacle Tomura - A Shigaraki x Reader Fic

So here’s the tentacle fic. I’m not sure it needs much of a summary. Reader is a hero who has an encounter with Tomura with a tentacle quirk.

Smut. 18+. Tentacles. Oral. Anal. Size kink. Lots of slimy stuff and various fluids. This is a nasty fic!

You couldn’t believe your luck when you stumbled upon the underground facility beneath a hospital. Your quirk makes searching for advanced technology easy, and it has led you to an entire lab. There are great glass tubes with dangerous looking Nomus in them, staring at you with their creepy eyes. Are they awake? Can they actually see you? You certainly hope not. You’re a lone hero exploring your discovery. Combat is not your specialty, so your plan is to take a look around this obvious villain facility and then report your findings back to the other heroes. 

Just as you’re about to leave, you notice a door in the back. For some reason, the sight of that door fills you with a sense of dread, as if something terrible is waiting on the other side. But your quirk is telling you that more technology is beyond it, perhaps even more advanced than the stuff you’ve already seen. So you take a deep breath and open the door. 

Inside is just one large glass tube filled with liquid, and the figure of a young man floating within. You approach the tube carefully and look closely at the man. Your eyes widen and you instinctively draw back away from him. It’s Shigaraki Tomura! The heroes have been searching frantically for him for weeks, and here he is. When he doesn’t move or even open his eyes, you step closer again. 

Shigaraki is surprisingly young, with pure white hair floating around his pretty face. He’s dressed in form fitting black clothing, his body much more toned than in the pictures you’ve seen. You realize with a bit of guilt that you find him attractive. What are you thinking? He’s a dangerous villain! 

Still, you find yourself pressing your whole body against the glass and staring up at him. It’s at this moment that his eyes snap open, two glowing red orbs fixing immediately on you. 

In a panic, you back away quickly, bumping into some sort of control panel in the process. You’re not sure what happened. Buttons were pushed. Beeping sounds were made. And the water begins to drain from Shigaraki’s tube. 

Your first instinct is to flee, to run back out the way you came and call for help. But for some reason, your legs just won’t move. You collapse onto the floor as your legs give out beneath you, and you can only watch in horror as the glass opens up with a mechanical thud and Shigaraki steps out. 

He runs a hand through his hair, water dripping all over him. “Looks like you interrupted my nap,” he says in a dry, bored voice. “I’ll have to get the doc back down here to start it up again. In the meantime…”

He looks straight at you. 

You make a sound that comes out like a squeak and scoot back until you hit the wall. He’s going to kill you. There’s no doubt about that. He’s going to use that terrifying quirk of his to destroy you. 

“I’m guessing you’re a hero,” he says, squatting down in front of you, close enough that he could reach out and touch you. 

Too afraid to speak, you give a shaky nod. 

He stares at you, his eyes focusing on your face for a while before moving down, grazing over your whole body. Is he… checking you out? And if he is, would that be a good or bad thing? 

He stands up then, still watching you. “Who have you told about this place?”

“N-no one!” You blurt it out without thinking. Should you have led him to think others knew, and might be on their way to rescue you? Or was it better to try to avoid angering him? 

He won’t stop staring at you, and you realize, again with some guilt, that he has beautiful eyes. What is wrong with you? This man is going to kill you in seconds and all you can think about is how hot he is. 

But instead of attacking, he says something truly bizarre: “You look like a chick from my favorite hentai.”

What? Hentai? Like anime porn? What is he talking about?

His eyes finally shift away from you as he looks up at the ceiling, seemingly in deep thought. “Master gave me a lot of quirks. Let’s see if the one I’m thinking about already got transferred.”

He closes his eyes, concentration evident in his face. Then, so suddenly that you scream in shock, a mass of wriggling red tentacles burst from his back. They vary in size, from relatively thin to extremely thick and bulbous. They’re fleshy and shiny, some of them dripping some sort of clear fluid. 

Before you can even react to this horror show, four tentacles shoot toward you, surprising you with their length. They coil around your arms and legs, lifting you into the air. And this is when his previous comment starts to make sense. 

You’ve seen hentai before, mostly with friends making fun of it. So you’re definitely aware of one of the most popular types: tentacle hentai, where women get violated by dozens of gross looking tentacles, usually from some alien or monster. Though you’d laughed at the absurdity along with your friends, you’d always found the tentacles disturbing. You couldn’t help imagining that happening to you, how frightening it would be, how humiliating it would be to have your body forced into those lewd positions. 

Now, as the tentacles sprouting from Shigaraki’s back wrap around your limbs and hold you aloft in front of him, you realize exactly what kind of hentai had been his favorite, and your whole body trembles. 

“Whoa, I can feel everything they touch,” he says, looking excited. “They’re like extra limbs.”

You can’t help noticing two more tentacles that have been creeping up your bare thighs, toward your skirt. You squirm in the slimy grip, trying and failing to free yourself. “Please,” you say to him, “just let me go!”

He grins, baring his teeth. “What fun would that be?”

The two extra tentacles slide under your skirt and move up to place themselves between your skin and the waistband. Then they rip the skirt completely off you, causing you to shriek and jerk against your bonds. More tentacles shoot toward you and then slither under your remaining clothes, under your shirt, under your bra, even under your panties. You whimper and struggle, but it’s no use. You’re completely helpless. 

All at once, the tentacles under your clothes pull outward, bursting through the fabric, leaving it all in shreds. Your shirt is reduced to ripped sleeves hanging uselessly from your arms, your bra nothing more than two thin straps connected to nothing. But worst of all, your panties were completely demolished, as if they’d never been there to begin with. 

Almost at the same time, the tentacles holding you shift your body so that it’s like you’re sitting on air, your knees pushed up toward your shoulders and your thighs spread so far apart that you’re afraid you’ll be ripped in two. Your arms are pulled back painfully tight behind you, causing your full, naked breasts to jut out in front of you. 

Shigaraki’s eyes roam over you, taking in the obscene view. Heat floods your face as you’re overcome with embarrassment. You avoid looking him in the face, so your eyes wander downward, where you can clearly see an enormous bulge in his tight black pants. 

Is he that turned on by seeing you naked? And why the hell do you feel flattered by that? Even worse, you can’t stop yourself from imagining what that bulge would look like unclothed. With alarm, you realize you’re getting wet. 

More tentacles move across your body, two thin ones wrapping around your breasts, squeezing them. From the ends of each of these, tiny tentacles sprout and coil around your nipples. The tiny tentacles are covered in little barbs that prick at the delicate nubs, though they’re not sharp enough to break the skin. The sensation makes you gasp, but it’s not unpleasant. 

Then a single rope-like tentacle emerges from Shigaraki’s back and rubs across your pussy, pushing the folds apart as it finds your clit and clamps down over it. You jerk wildly, crying out, as you feel the end of the tentacle tightening around your most sensitive spot, and from somewhere inside the tentacle, you feel another tiny extension that feels like a narrow, wet tongue lapping at your pinched clit. The stimulation is too much. You can feel your arousal dripping out of you, can almost hear it hitting the floor. 

And all the while, Shigaraki is inches away, watching you buck and fight, your body contorting into ever more embarrassingly lewd poses. Even you can’t tell whether you’re moaning or sobbing as the tentacle between your legs relentlessly attacks your clit. 

“You really do look like her,” Shigaraki says, his eyes full of lust. “You’re even dripping wet like she was. Do tentacles feel that good?”

You realize he’s talking about hentai again. You also notice another tentacle heading toward your crotch. This one is much thicker, with a bulbous head on the end. It doesn’t take you long to figure out where it’s going. 

You’re still a virgin, and it’s something you’ve wanted to change about yourself for a while now. Most of your friends got their cherries popped in high school, or very soon after, and they teased you incessantly about the fact that you still hadn’t experienced that, even two years after graduating. You wanted to get laid, you really did, but you hadn’t found anyone you were attracted to enough to sleep with. 

Even so, the thought of your first time being with a tentacle just made you feel like crying, so you yell out, “Wait, please wait!”

The tentacle heading toward you slows but doesn’t stop. Shigaraki looks at you curiously. 

In desperation, you cry, “I don’t want to lose my virginity to a tentacle!”

That’s when the tentacle freezes in place, just inches from your spread open pussy. Shigaraki’s eyes seem to light up as he says, “Seriously? You’re a virgin?”

Blushing furiously, you nod. 

A grin spreads across his pretty face, red eyes shining. “So you’re fine with losing your virginity as long as it’s not to a tentacle?”

Your mouth falls open in shock. That’s not really what you meant, but now that he said it, the thought of him fucking you invades your brain. Your eyes shift to that bulge again, and this time Shigaraki notices. 

He uses a hand that’s missing a few fingers to palm himself through his pants and asks, “Is this what you want?”

You look away. Yes, it’s exactly what you want but you’re too ashamed to say it out loud. The tentacles working on your body are making it hard to think straight, and you can now see a large puddle of fluid on the floor beneath you. 

The tentacle that’s latched onto your clit tightens again, the tongue-like extension inside making rapid, feathery motions. It’s too much. You can’t hold back anymore, and you cry out in ecstasy as an intense orgasm wracks your body. It’s so powerful that tears leak from your eyes and your body convulses in midair. 

When you finally regain your senses, you notice Shigaraki pulling his pants down enough to free his cock, and you nearly gasp. You’ve never seen one in person before, but you’re pretty certain it’s not supposed to be that big. Shigaraki himself is looking down at it with a surprised expression. 

“I guess the quirk affects my body in a lot of ways,” he says, clearly amused. 

The tentacles pull you closer to him, then suddenly twist you around until you’re hanging upside down. From this angle, with your legs still held far apart, Shigaraki has a clear view of everything you have. And your face is mere inches from his cock. You stare at it, watching it throb with arousal. Without thinking, you stretch toward it and give it a tentative lick, drawing your tongue gently along his length. 

You can’t see his face from your position, but you hear him laugh and say, “Horny little hero.” Then the tentacles press your face closer until it’s smooshed against his massive cock. You open your mouth, almost by reflex, and the tip of it shoves in. At only halfway in, the cock is hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag. But somehow, you’re not repulsed. Even when he begins thrusting into your mouth, cutting off your air each time, you find yourself getting more and more turned on. What a time to discover you’re a masochist. 

This goes on for several minutes, until your throat feels raw and your jaw is sore. Then he pulls out until just the tip of his cock is still inside, and fills your mouth with hot sticky cum. 

You gulp it down as fast as you can, not wanting to spill any and also wanting to be able to breathe normally again. Once you’ve swallowed all of it, he finally pulls out completely and the tentacles holding you twist around again until you’re upright, face to face with him. 

You’re exhausted, breathing heavily, your lips bruised red and trembling. His pale face has reddened slightly from the experience, but otherwise he’s not showing any signs of tiring. He has a look of hunger in his eyes, like he’s just gotten started. 

You feel something snaking up your leg again, and you look down to see the thick, bulbous tentacle from before inching toward your groin. You look frantically back at Shigaraki. “No, please!”

He laughs. “You still want to lose your virginity to this,” he asks, gesturing toward his huge cock. 

Oh God, there’s no way that thing is going to fit inside you. But you still want it. You need it. So you cry out, “Yes!”

He watches you for a moment, seemingly enjoying the show you’re putting on, with tears on your face, tentacles still teasing your tits and clit, your lips quivering. “Maybe I’ll give it to you,” he says in a mocking tone, “if you’re a good girl.”

Before you can ask what he means, you feel the thick tentacle move rapidly up your leg. You draw in a sharp breath and squeeze your eyes shut, preparing to have your first time stolen by this crawling menace, but instead of entering your pussy, the slimy tentacle wiggles its way into your ass. 

Your eyes open widely in shock and confusion. Why is your ass suddenly full? The sensation is bizarre. It hurts, your asshole stretching to accommodate something so thick. The slime and various other fluids only did so much to ease the pain. But you’ve quickly learned that you enjoy a certain level of pain, so you try to relax your muscles and let the tentacle slide in and out. 

“Tentacles are fine for this hole, right?”

You look at Shigaraki again when you hear his voice. You can’t believe all this is happening right in front of him. The embarrassment alone is enough to make you cry as your ass is railed by the long, gooey appendage. Your crying turns to moaning, and you hear his voice again. 

“You really like this, huh? You’re gushing.”

You glance down to see yourself squirting. The sight is enough to make you cum again, but the tentacles never stop, not the one in your ass, not the ones on your tits and clit. You’re sure you’re going to pass out, but the tentacles holding you pull you forward, so close to Shigaraki that your tender nipples brush against the fabric of his shirt. He looks down at you with a sadistic grin and says, “Tell me what you want.”

You look up with teary eyes and say, “I want you to fuck me… please…”

His grin widens. “Be more specific.”

You’re barely coherent at this point, your mind only able to focus on the pleasure and pain that have completely taken over your senses. But you manage to get the words out. “I want you… to fuck my virgin pussy… with your giant cock…”

He laughs then, using the tentacles to pull you away from him. You can’t help whining when you can no longer feel his body heat against you. You can see his cock, rock hard again and twitching. He wants to fuck you. That’s obvious. So why won’t he? Is he trying to torment you? 

Suddenly another thick, phallic tentacle appears out of nowhere and shoves itself into your open mouth, slithering halfway down your throat. The tip of it is leaking fluid, and you realize that fluid tastes exactly like Shigaraki’s cum. The tentacle moves in and out, fucking your mouth. 

A few feet away, Shigaraki is watching intently. His eyes are full of desire as he says, “I’ve stuffed all your holes except the one you want me to stuff, huh? Poor little hero.”

Meanwhile, the two large tentacles are thrusting into your ass and mouth mercilessly. You lose track of time. You don’t know how long this goes on until, at the same moment, both tentacles ejaculate inside you. The fluid keeps spurting into your holes, sliding down your throat, oozing into your ass. And all you can think is, “I’m full to the brim with cum and I’m still a virgin.”

The tentacles, all except for the ones holding you in place, withdraw. Your body is left bruised, raw, sore, dripping both your own cum and Shigaraki’s. You don’t know how you’re still conscious. 

You’re pulled back to Shigaraki again, so tantalizingly close. You wish he would kiss you, or touch you with his own hands, no matter how dangerous that would be. Or better yet, just fuck you already. He looks at you with a strangely serious expression. The tentacles pull your legs apart and draw your knees up, then pull you even closer. You feel the hot tip of Shigaraki’s cock pressing against your entrance, and your whole body tenses up. You can’t imagine what your face looks like right now, but you’re probably wearing a slutty, blissful smile as the tentacles pull you slowly down. 

It’s too big. But you knew that already. The huge cock shoves into you, stretching and ripping your hole. You feel something warm, and realize it must be blood, the proof that you’ve finally lost your virginity. You wince and hiss, involuntarily jerking against the tentacles that are pulling you down. You want this, no matter how bad it hurts. You look Shigaraki in the eyes, and he leans forward, sticking his tongue into your mouth. It’s not the romantic kiss you’d hoped for, but tasting his saliva as it passes to your mouth somehow makes you even wetter. 

Finally, the tentacles stop. You can feel that you’re absolutely stuffed with his cock. Your pussy is throbbing, pulsing. Shigaraki puts his mouth close to your ear and says, “If I push it any further in, it might kill you.”

You nod, understanding. You’re already plenty satisfied with what’s inside you. In fact it’s already too much. 

With the tentacles holding you firmly in place, Shigaraki begins thrusting in and out of you. It hurts at first, stretching you to your limit, but gradually your body accommodates him, and all you feel is full and warm. You maintain eye contact with him, not wanting to miss even the tiniest change in his expression. Does this feel as good for him as it does for you? 

His breaths are more shallow, his hair messy across his forehead and shoulders. Fuck, he’s beautiful. You wish you could stay full of him forever. 

With the other tentacles gone, all your focus is on the cock shoving into you. All your thoughts revolve around it. It’s like your life is nothing without it. You clench around him, and he finally groans, moving his mangled hand up to touch your face. Then he finally kisses you, passionately and sweetly, the way you wanted to be kissed. 

When you feel Shigaraki’s cum shoot deep inside of you, hot and plentiful, it pushes you over the edge again, and you cum for the third time. 

As you shudder and pant, he pulls out of you. Your body goes limp, your head falling back, exhaustion overcoming you. But then you look at Shigaraki’s face again, and you see that he’s grinning. He says, “Now that you’re not a virgin anymore, the tentacles can have their fun.”

You use your remaining strength to hold your head back up and ask in a weak voice, “What?”

As if to answer you, dozens of tentacles shoot out from his back, all of them coming straight for you. Then all at once they’re squeezing your breasts, teasing your nipples, clamping onto your clit, wiggling into your mouth, ass, and pussy, filling every hole you have while Shigaraki watches. 

It feels like an eternity before you finally black out, only after cumming twice more and feeling the three large tentacles ejaculating in all your holes several more times. 

When you wake up, you’re in a hospital bed. You’re sore all over but otherwise unharmed. A creepy looking doctor walks in shortly after and lowers his voice as he tells you, “Shigaraki said to let you go. If you tell anyone about what you found down there, you’ll never have that experience again.”

You look at him in shock. So this doctor is a cohort of Shigaraki’s. Your first thought is to get out of the hospital and report what you found to the heroes. But… could you really tell them what happened? No, you couldn’t possibly do that. 

So you leave the hospital, and you keep your mouth shut about what you saw, and what you did. Hopefully, Shigaraki would wake up again soon. You were already excited about your next encounter.

Mdni! 18+ // Tomura Shigaraki x Bunny!Reader

Tw: smut, bunny!f!reader, sex work, dry humping, body exploration(?), scent marking and hickeys, possessiveness if you squint, fluff really, shy Tomura but gets comfortable, intimacy, consent is sexy, concept is from pink heart jam, words: 3k (damn), not proof read sry ♡

Tomura knows this is stupid.

First of all, how would he explain to the league that he spends money in a brothel when they can hardly afford food right now. They'll kill him. Not that he owes them anything… But he knows what this looks like. As their leader he should care for them… but this is important.

Then, what if the girl recognizes him? That would be a whole mess. Would he get a refund at least?

And of course… the shame and self doubt that hits him now as he sits in the waiting room.

But he just needs to know. He will go crazy if he doesn't know.

“Room 8 is now ready.”

That is Tomura's room. He feels lightheaded and sick. But he needs to know. He just needs to know. He gets up and everything spins. One step at a time. He hopes the girl doesn't recognize him. Tomura opens the door to you kneeling in a bow on the tatami.

“Good Evening, sir. I am happy to–” you rise and both you and Tomura freeze. The only thing audible is the door clicking shut.

“Boss?!”

“(Y/N)?!” He grimaces and his cheeks go from a lifeless pale to a hot pink.

You get up and notice how his eyes drop to your lingerie clad body for a moment, he turns his entire face to the side, gulping. His body is so painfully tense, you can feel it.

“Didn't you recognize me in the picture?” You chuckle to lighten the mood. You grab your rope and throw it on.

“I was so nervous I didn't really look. I just said yes to everything,” Tomura mumbles. “I'll just go.”

“Cmon. You already paid. I just call front desk and set you up with someone else,” you walk to the phone. “So… You wanna have your first time? Is that it?” You ask, assuming from what you know. He doesn't seem like someone who suddenly gets so horny he needs to go to a brothel. You would send him to different colleague's depending on his answer though. He looks tortured enough.

“Y-yes.”

You pick up the phone and dial.

“I just want to know what intimacy is,” Tomura follows up and jumps a little when you slam the phone. He frowns. Your face is different now, softer. “What?”

“You're already here… I don't see why we–”

Tomura grimaces again and waves his hands hysterically, declining.

“What?” You cross your arms and turn to him. “Am I not your type? You don't find me attractive enough?” It's teasing. You know it's not that. You've caught him staring more than once when you're with the league.

“No! That's not– I never said that!”

You hold your pinky out. “Pinky promise this is a thing between us and that it won't make things awkward at work.”

“At work?” He looks at you funny. “Aren't you at work right now?”

You chuckle. “At my day job then? Happy?”

He looks at your pinky. You are serious. Are you scared he might hurt your colleagues? He doesn’t understand why you would do this. You know him. You… can… back out. Maybe it's the money.

“Why?” He needs to know. Your eyes look even more beautiful behind painted eyelids and darker lashes. He has never seen you wear makeup before. You always look at everyone with softness though– you look at him with so much kindness right now… it's so weird. You are a villain too. He could never look at someone like that.

You sigh. “You said intimacy. You want to know what intimacy is. If I send you to one of the other girls I can't be sure that that is what you get.”

“Oh,” he feels a tug in his stomach. He raises his hand and links his pinky with yours. “I see.”

You nod and smile then drop to one knee, undoing the laces of his shoes. “Let's hurry this along and not lose more time off your session.”

“A-are you really sure?” He panics. You are you. Like you know him. You know who he is and you see him nearly everyday. How could you possibly be okay with this? He's kinda gross right? Dabi always says that.

“Ah–” Tomura bites his tongue.

You hug him loosely, your hand strokes through his hair, untangling some knots. “I am sure. I won't do anything you don't want to do, okay? Just let me know. We can start with just laying down in our underwear– talk and see?”

You intertwine your fingers with his and lead him to the bed. You aren't even scared to touch his hands? “Want me to take off your clothes or do it yourself?”

“I'll do it.” He turns away. Damn… this is awkward. He takes his hoodie off first then kicks his pants off and quickly crawls into the bed, laying down next to you.

“Why are you working here?” He asks, staring at the ceiling.

“It's money,” you say casually and bring your hand to his chest. He jumps but gives you a nod as you stop, looking at him and waiting for confirmation. He was just surprised. You softly caress his skin, letting your finger move in intricate patterns over the dips and curves of his torso.

“But…-” No, he doesn't know.

“People fetishisize quirks like mine,” you plop yourself up on your elbow and look at him. His eyes wander to the bunny ears. “They have my entire life. I am in control here at least, you know.”

“But… Why are you still… with everything?” He tries to read your face but can't.

“Tomu… if it wasn't for me still working we would be starving,” you chuckle. “And Dabi is so insufferable when he's hangry.” You play with his hair. You touch him so freely. It feels nice.

But what truly made his heart skip a beat was the nickname. “You're right.” He sighs with a little smile. You have never seen him smile with such softness.

“I don't really know anything about you,” you whisper. Your thumb softly traces the scar on his lip. “I'd like to know more about you.”

His heart pinches again. “Why?” You're probably just saying it because you have to… this is just a job to you after all. He isn't special or anything.

You smile, frowning too. “Because I care about you?”

His lips part as he stares at you. Tomura might burst. What is happening? Someone cares about him? No… No you are just saying these things.

“So… Tomura, I need to know, are you a tits or ass guy?” You smile, saying it jokingly.

He goes red. “I… I don't know. I never thought about it much.”

“Hmm… I see. Can you sit up for me?”

Tomura leans against the cushioned headboard and watches how you turn your body to him.

“Can I sit there?”

“M-my lap? S-sure.”

You straddle him and his heartbeat picks up. Holy shit. You lean your face against his shoulder as you fumble with your bra in the back.

Tomura closes his eyes, husking, “you smell so nice.”

“Thank you,” you smile so sweetly. You take your bra off but Tomura makes an effort, trying so hard to look you in the eyes. You swear a droplet of sweat runs down his forehead. “You can look… you can touch them too.”

“Heh,” he is so nervous. “What if I– accidentally– my quirk–”

“I trust you,” your tone is silvery and you lean in to kiss his cheek, your breasts squished against his chest.

“You do?” He frowns. That's really stupid of you? He doesn’t even trust himself.

You take his hands and guide them to your tits. Tomura sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes. They are so soft. Holy Shit.

He is timid, gentle squeezes and fleeting touches. His pinkies are extended away. His cheeks are flushed pink with the red in his eyes nearly gone.

It is cute. You suck in air sharply when his next squeeze is harsher. He looks at you panicked. “You're all good,” you rasp.

He drags his thumbs over your nipples then gropes the flesh of your breasts again. He sighs.

“Let's move on?” You ask. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your chest flush to his and laying your head against his shoulder. “Don't touch my tail.”

Tomura looks down the curve of your spine, seeing the fluffy round scut. You usually hide it. He didn't even know you had one. It is so cute. “Okay.” His hands timidly slide down your back and grab your ass. It's different but holy shit. Tomura bites his lip.

“Can I kiss your neck?” You ask.

“Hm.” You place the first kiss where his nails left scars upon scars and he hates it. It makes his body feel so icky. “… I don't like that,” he whispers, scared he will ruin the mood.

“That's okay,” you rise to meet his eyes and smile. “How about here?” You lean down a bit further, placing the same kiss to his collarbone. This time it makes his body light ablaze.

“There is fine,” he sighs, still groping your ass.

You start to kiss and gently suck the skin there and Tomura is going insane. That… plus holding your perfect butt. The fact you trust him to touch you with no second guessing. That might be the best part. You aren't scared at all. He is dreaming. This is perfect. His hands timidly slide down the curve of your thighs all the way to your knees and back up. On their next drag down, his nails softly scratch against your flesh. You both take shaky breaths.

“Were thighs an option too?” He asks.

You giggle, “yes.”

There is absolutely no way you don't feel his twitching cock. He is glad he is doing this with you. Thinking about it now… Could he really trust anyone else? No. It was supposed to be you from the start. That he ended up here was no coincidence.

“You're doing so well,” you tell him and he sinks further into this fuzzy feeling.

He brings one hand to your chin, holding it gently, while the other hand twirls your hair. “Can I touch your ears?”

They lop for better access and you nod. He gently caresses a finger down over the fur. “I didn’t think they'd be so soft!” He says with wide eyes.

You smile. “Can I… kiss you?” You ask.

“Where?” He asks.

You point to his lips. “There.”

His eyes widen again. “Really?”

You nod. “Is that okay?”

He nods and gulps. You lean in and your lips softly peck his to test the waters. He nods again, still staring at you.

“Close your eyes. It will feel better,” you chuckle. He closes his eyes immediately and you drag out the kiss this time. He does not know what he is supposed to do. He just does something, timidly moving his mouth too. His hands grope at your thighs.

You kiss harder, opening your mouth wider. You taste so good. Tomura groans, grabbing your hips. You don't even flinch.

You kiss him like that until his lips are slightly swollen. His head falls back against the headboard.

“That's so nice,” he says.

You nod.

“You're so… amazing,” he whispers, closing his eyes. “Look at me saying dumb shit.”

You hug him, playing with his hair. “It's not dumb at all.”

He squeezes tightly. “I feel… safe. That is so dumb to say… for me..”

You look at the wall behind you and tears nearly shoot into your eyes. “I do too… With you.” You pull back and cup his face. “I guess that's what intimacy can be… Feeling safe with each other.”

Tomura thinks that over for a second. He has never before felt like this… It makes so much sense. He likes this.

He gently nudges you forward so you are laying on the bed and he is on top of you now. He really just wanted to see what you'd look like underneath him… stunning of course. “Can I kiss your neck?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

He leans down and nibbles on your delicate skin. He isn't gentle but you are sure he doesn't realize just how sensitive the skin is. Your hands are raking through his hair, tugging slightly ever so often.

He pulls back and you see the glint in his red eyes. “You gave me a hickey?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“I didn't… mean to! I swear!”

You flip him on his back with your strength, grinning down at him with your hands on his chest. “Well, I guess then I have to–” You rub the underside of your chin against his shoulder, his face, his head… Everywhere.

He chuckles softly. “Are you… Scent marking me?”

“Yes.”

You two giggle. Tomura doesn't giggle… but right now, right here in these four walls… he can.

You finish by kissing him again. “All mine now,” you say and Tomura feels his chest contort. He wants to be all yours. What would that be like when this now is already so amazing. “So… what do we do about that?” You ask.

He knows what that is. He is painfully aware. It is painful at this point. “I… I don't know,” he admits. “I don't know if I can go all the way.”

You smile, “that's so okay! What do you want to do?”

He hesitates.

“You can want things, Tomu,” you say. “What do you want?”

He covers his face. “Can we do it like this?”

You need a second to catch on but you do. “Of course. Will you sit up again?”

At first he doesn't understand why you want him in that position again but once you are straddling him again and your arms are loosely wrapped around his shoulders, your breath fanning against his face… he gets it. You are so close to each other like this… It is just you and him right now– and the clock. He sees how you swiftly look over.

“How long–”

“Enough,” you tell him. “Is that okay?” You roll your hips, it's not harsh but not gentle either. It creates the perfect friction between your clothed groins.

Tomura sucks in a sharp breath and his head falls back. “Y-yes,” he forces out. His eyes are squeezed shut.

You keep rocking your hips while also kissing his face in the most gentle way. He holds you by your rips, your flesh bulging in his hands.

“Oh… fuck,” he whimpers. It feels so good.

He feels your breath by his ear and goosebumps raise all over his skin. “You're being such a good boy for me,” you whisper.

“Oh–” Tomura's eyes roll back. He? Good boy? “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you kiss him again, moaning against his lips as your hips stutter.

No way. Tomura whines. This feels good for you too? Holy shit. He opens his eyes to look at you– no… to take you in and soak you up. Is it possible to combine with you? Fuse to one being? He wants to.

Your cheeks are such a cute pink, your soft ears are twitchy and your lips parted slightly as you draw heavy breaths. You look at him with so much kindness it makes him feel static. What is happening to him?

“You can touch my tail if you want.”

He swears you sounded shy. He looks at you like a little puppy. “But you said–”

“I know but I trust… You.”

You trust him… Just him. Him alone.

His hand slowly moves down your back and he uses his middle and index finger to form a v shape with which he cups the base of the scut. He feels you shiver all over. Your forehead falls against his sweaty shoulder and you whimper softly. You never stop rolling your hips through all of it– if anything your movements become more greedy.

“(Y/N)--” Tomura whines, squeezing his eyes shut. He can't take it any longer. He's about to fall apart, come undone at the seams. And he is happy about it.

“I got you,” you whisper softly, caressing his cheek. “Cum for me.”

“Ah, shit–” his whole body jerks and his hands drop to his side, fingers clenching to tight fists. “Ha. ahh.” He breathes heavily, everything spins.

Your soft kisses on his cheek bring him back to reality. His heart calms down, he catches his breath. What the hell.

“You okay?” You ask, your eyelashes brush against his cheek.

“Yes,” he laughs. He just laughs. He doesn't know why. It's an eerie sound to him. Why would he laugh? He can feel you smile too.

The red light on top of the door now flicks on. His time with you is over. His heart sinks. Was any of this even real? He wonders. It felt real.

“You still have 15 minutes.” You say and hug him closer to yourself. “No need to rush.”

“Okay,” he whispers, taking as much of you in as possible. He probably won't ever get to hold you like this again. He knows he won't.

He takes a quick shower and when he walks out you are sitting on the bed in your rope, brushing your hair.

“Text me when you're back at the hideout?” You say and walk him to the door where he puts on his shoes.

“Why?”

You frown, “so I know you got there safe?”

“Oh… Yeah,” he nods. “Uh… Thank you.”

“Did… Did it answer your question?”

Yes. “I guess.” But was it even real?

“O-okay. See you… later? You gulp.

"I guess..."

》》》》

“Where'd you get all this?!” Dabi wants to know, stuffing his mouth.

“Stole it,” you shrug.

Tomura knows you lie. He knows you probably got paid last night and then went out to buy the food. It's been a few days and he still doesn't know what to think. It was really nice… but what now? He wants more. He wants to know it was… Something. He sounds so stupid. You said he can want things but he knows it's not true… the only thing he can possibly want is to destroy… right?

He gets up and grabs a cup of noodles then walks outside… he needs some fresh air. Dabi made the water way too hot… he can barely hold the cup. Your skin felt so warm… so alive– man even a cup of noodles reminds him of you.

He feels so different. Like taking deep breaths hits a whole different level… maybe he moved up a level now that he–

Tomura knows he would get third degree burns from dropping the cup on himself so he holds it tight, letting the shock out through a deep breath instead. His whole body stands alert. He didn't expect it… he's not opposed… he's just confused.

“What are you doing?” He whispers.

You are nuzzling your head against him, over and over. “You don't smell like me anymore… I don't like it.”

He looks at you, eyes unreadable. He reaches up to your turtleneck sweater and pushes it aside. “The hickey is almost gone too… then I have to give you a new one as well. Only fair.”

“I guess you do,” you smile subtly.