SHIGARAKI TOMURA | GAME OVER

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.

bnha: their partner has an oral fixation (part 2)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Dabi | Tomura | Shouta

more smutty bnha headcanons no one asked for but i’m writing them anyway because it’s fun.

obligatory mdni, 18+ content. you will be blocked.

tags: fem!reader, oral fixation (obv), oral sex, rough sex, fish hooking mentioned, facials mentioned, finger sucking, unintentional hand & finger kink

Dabi

i hope you love sucking dick and getting face fucked, cause he loves it too. any time, anywhere, as many times as you want. at least once or twice a day if not more. also he loves painting your face if you don’t swallow.

lets you cockwarm him at night if it helps you fall asleep. he’d never admit it, but it helps him fall asleep too. he’d also never say that he’s got a tiny soft spot for how sweet you look with his dick in your mouth while you lay in bed.

he might make you beg or tease you a bit if you’re bratty, but you both know the second those needy doe eyes come out, your head’s getting shoved into his lap. he thinks it’s even better when you’re standing and he gets to grab you by the hair and pull you down to your knees.

finger fucks your mouth just to see you drool and make you blush, and makes you look him in the eye when he does it. might even do it when his friends are around because he doesn’t give a fuck, he wants you to be a pretty mess, and he doesn’t care who knows it.

you can bet your bottom dollar he will fish hook you when he fucks you from behind because, “you look so pretty like this, babydoll. i can’t help myself.”

Tomura

he thinks you’re insane for playing with his hands as much as you do, and he loves it. you think you might be insane too, but you’re with Shiggy for fuck’s sake, of course there’s at least a little part of you that likes the fear of being turned to dust when he’s got that beautifully wild, sadistic grin on his face.

might like to taunt you with the fear, but would never actually harm you.

enthusiastic about it in the beginning because god do you look so fucking slutty and needy, but the more he sees that you genuinely care about him, the more afraid he is of hurting you. wears specific gloves that cover his pinkies because you’re special to him because it makes him less anxious.

your love and tenderness with the part of him that has only ever destroyed, only hurt people and hurt them bad, is painful and he doesn’t handle it well. he pushes you away a lot, but you’re patient with him, knowing he’ll always come back.

once admitted that you make him itch a little less, but refuses to think of the ramifications of what that means about his feelings for you.

lets you give head whenever you want. enjoys it a lot when he’s playing video games and he gets to ignore you no matter how enthusiastic you are. will occasionally grab you by the hair and use you as a way to get off.

Shouta

man’s busy and so are his hands - grading, case work, lesson planning, training, taking care everyday life - so they’re not something you go for often, but you don’t mind so much. you appreciate any moment you can share with him, especially if he’s curled up next to you or in your lap.

occasionally puts his hand towards your lips in bed at night without thinking; so much of his life is on autopilot out of necessity that sometimes he doesn’t think twice.

most of his appreciation for your fixation comes out in sex; he loves the blissful look you get with his finger(s) in your mouth while you ride him, and he loves how hard it makes you cum.

loves to give head, so you get the luxury of his lips on your body frequently, which in a roundabout way satisfies your craving.

likes receiving head, but mostly because of how much you enjoy it. sure, it feels fantastic, but he appreciates the intimacy of it more.

came up because you point blank asked if it was okay. he shrugged. “why not?” which quickly became, “oh. we’re doing this again.”

banner created by the lovely @cafekitsune.

Birthday Treat (Tomura Shigaraki x CamGirl!Reader)

Words: 3.6k

Minors DNI

Tw: sex work, toys/interactive machine, "senpai", one mention of Shigaraki wanting to be called niichan, anal (plug, gaping, mastrubation), belly bulge, reader has pierced nips, soft degradation, multiple orgasms (both), mastrubating, delusional, softness too, squirting

Teaser: "I want to see," he says, his heart is pounding in his chest. He does not even blink, not wanting to miss a second of you. You are a goddess to him. So nice and so pretty and he is at your feet.

Note: It's my angel's birthday! (In an hour) You can send me Shiggy thirsts and headcanons and requests for my man's day 💜

Tomura is nervous.

It is his birthday and he splurged a little. Well, Toga said birthdays are there to treat yourself to something and he did exactly that. It wasn't cheap but his birthday seems like a valid excuse after what Toga had said.

When he booked the private session with you his heart raced at you sending him a private message alone. He was sure he wouldn't survive actually talking to you. You are so damn sweet in your text, but he knew that before. He never misses your late night streams, it's the only way he falls asleep without taking meds... or drugs. You sent him a form he had to fill out before your session.

What do you want me to call you?

What outfit do you want me to wear? With options.

What toys do you want me to use?

It had a detailed instruction on how to establish the connection to your interactive toys and some general info about taking screenshots and payment. He didn't know at the time that by purchasing a private session he would get live long access to message you privately. He is still thrilled about that. Maybe he could get you to like him.

He took three hours to fill out the form (he had to make smart choices) and he jerked off right after, all the images it conjured in his brain making him rock hard.

He is half hard now already. And he is just nervous. He has written in the chat and interacted with you before but never talked to you.

The loading screen now beams with cute pink graphics. Then, you appear and Tomura holds his breath.

You are on the floor sitting criss-crossed on a fluffy blanket with cute fairy lights behind you and your stuffed animals. You are wearing the way too tight white crop top and way too skimpy pink thong he picked out. Your hard nipples and their piercings are well visible, your beautiful tits perked up in the tightness of the small fabric. Your makeup is simple but cute, your hair is held back by your kitten ear headset. The white thigh highs make Tamura's cock twitch. Your thighs. He needs to know what they feel like.

"Heyy," you say, smiling. "How are you doing, senpai?"

Tomura filled in for you to call him senpai. He knew if he made you call him niichan he would go insane. Maybe next birthday.

"Hi. I'm… okay," his voice betrays him.

"Don't be nervous. It's just me," you smile. "Let's talk a bit first to loosen you up, yeah? How was your day?"

"Uneventful. It's my birthday."

Your eyes widen for a second. "Uneventful and it's your birthday?! Tell me you at least had some cake?"

"No," he chuckles softly. "Just played some games."

"Well, I'm going to make sure that it is special then, senpai," you say sultry. "What do you want me to do first?"

"Can I see your tits, please?"

You smile. Your hands with the cute pink nail design come up the sides of your body as you move to kneel instead. You brush over your breasts, squeezing them together in the thin fabric. Tomura is nearly drooling.

You take the hem of the crop top and slowly pull it up. Your tits bounce free, jingling so beautifully. The crop top is sitting above your tits, a sense of obscenity in it that he likes. You are about to take the shirt off but he stops you.

"Leave it like this."

You nod, compliant as a puppy, and move closer to the camera. You present your beautiful tits to him, bounce on your knees so they do too.

"You're so beautiful,' Tomura breathes and his hand now finally moves to his cock. 

"Thank you, senpai," you utter softly, squeezing your tits together for him and pinching your nipples.

"Are you wearing the plug I picked out?" His voice is timid.

"Of course, senpai. Wanna see?"

"I want to see," he says, his heart is pounding in his chest. He does not even blink, not wanting to miss a second of you. You are a goddess to him. So nice and so pretty and he is at your feet.

You turn around and your ass lifts up, your knees stay together at your chest, causing your core to peak out between your plush thighs. Your ass is just so sexy too. Tomura is no ass or tits or thighs guy, he is a you guy. Just you. You take a pillow and lay your head down on it. Tomura switches to the close up shot for a second, just needing to see your face a moment longer.

You push your panties aside revealing your cute cunt and the pink glass heart sitting above your puckered hole. You clench and it moves and Tomura nearly moans.

"Senpai?" You say breathy. "I was so happy about all the stuff you picked," you say genuinely.

"Yeah?"

"Hm," you hum. "You dressed me up so cute."

His body fills with warmth. "Pull your thong down but don't take it off."

You peel the pink fabric to sit at your knees then brush over your cunt.

"Did I allow you to do that?" He says breathlessly, eyes fixed on the close up shot to see your reaction. A deep blush creeps into your cheeks.

"I am sorry, senpai. Forgive me, please."

"I do," Tomura smiles. "Pull the plug out for me, baby."

You acknowledge his request with a soft moan and push yourself up, grabbing the bottle of lube. He could choose the consistency and naturally took the extra sticky one.

You squeeze some of it onto the plug then use one finger to swirl it around your stretched asshole. 

"Your nails are so cute this time." He knows you got them done just yesterday. He never misses when you post on Instagram.

"Thank you!" You smile and your breath hitches as you pull at the pink heart. You spread your legs further, the thong stretching around your thighs as you do.

Tomura watches with hungry eyes how you move the plug in a circled motion then slowly pull at it. It looks like your little ass does not want to let the plug go and he bites his own hand to stay quiet. You moan softly and it finally pops out, strings of the stucky lube going from the pink glass to your clenching hole. You lay it down and spread your ass cheeks, presenting to him how beautiful your ass was gaping and clenching.

"S'beautiful," he hums. 

"Wanna be filled again, senpai! Will you fuck my ass now? Please?" You beg, voice so pretty and slutty.

Shit. Tomura snaps his hand away from stroking his cook but it was too late. Strings of cum splash onto his stomach. He hardly manages to stay quiet. "Yes," his voice pitched. "Show me the dildos again, sweetheart."

You sit and reach to the side getting the three he selected into view. They are about the same length but vary in thickness. One is anatomically correct, the other has ridges and bumps and the third is curved to hit your special spot.

"Hmm–"

"Senpai," you blink so sweetly and shift to kneel again with your legs spread, your exposed cunt on the blanket. "I got a delivery today. Maybe you wanna try this one out with me for the first time?" You pull a red dildo into view and sit it down between your legs. It reaches all the way to your belly button, ridiculously thick and with ridges. "But only if you want to, I'll do whatever you want."

If you could see his face… Tomura clickes the shortcut and takes a screencap. He has a size kink? He is going insane.

"Let's use that one," he heaves.

You are excited about that and he smiles.

"I need a quick moment, senpai. Tell me are you enjoying this so far?" You start to set up the fucking machine.

"I do. You are perfect," he sighs. "I enjoy this so much," he lets his head fall back against his gaming chair. 

"That makes me so happy, birthday boy."

He smiles.

"Apologies, senpai."

"Its fine." It really is. His stomach is feeling all funny and it's not because of his cock being rock hard again. "You can call me that, too."

He watches how you adjust the camera, getting in the position he will fuck you in. He chose that one too. He wants you to lay on your side with your pretty ass sticking out so he can see your thighs and your dangling feet as he controls the thrusts of the machine going into your puckered hole.

"Can you see me alright, senpai?" You check in with him.

"Yes. All perfect."

"Let's test the connection," you say and your voice has a little edge. He watches how you bend forward, opening your mouth in front of the monstrous dildo with your tongue sticking out.

"Fuck," Tomura hisses but he knows what he has to do. He presses the button on his phone that makes the machine go forward and the gigantic head of the dildo pushes into your mouth, stuffing it full. Your moan is muffled. Tomura now retrieves the machine and pushes it forward again, faster now. Your eyes cross as you gag. Tomura moans softly hearing you gasp as he pulls the dildo back.

"Works," you heave, licking up the saliva that splurged. "Senpai, will you go slow at first?" You bat your lashes at the close up shot. "It's so big and my ass is so tight."

"I can't promise you."

You bite your lip at that. "I'll be brave for you, senpai, it's your birthday."

"Good girl," he says and his stomach clenches. He wanted to say that to you for so long.

You coat the dildo and your stretched hole in the sticky lube and line it up. "Fuck me, senpai, please," you say and brace yourself.

Tomura uses his thumb to move the machines forward while his other hand mimics the speed.

You moan and close your eyes as he invades you, pushing the dildo into your ass. You hook one arm around your knees, your pretty pink nails digging into the white fabric of the thigh highs as you hold your legs away. "Senpai," you whine.

"You're doing so well, slut."

You whimper.

He pulls back then enters a little more as he pushes in again, your puckered hole stretching around the red silicone. He pushes back again and now drives the machine forward a bit quicker. You yelp and move forward.

"Don't do that!" Tomura warns.

"M'so sorry, senpai! So big!" You squeal and use the hand that is not holding your legs to squeeze more lube on yourself and then hold onto the wall so you can resist the push.

"Good slut," he says and you look at the camera, giving him a strained smile.

He starts again and this time he gets the cock halfway in. He has no idea how it fits and judging from your face neither do you.

He fucks you like this, halfway pushing the dildo into your ass, making you moan and squirm. He is not holding his moans back anymore either.

"You sound so pretty," you whimper. "Makes me so horny, senpai! Fuck me so good– So big… so big… am so full;" you babble. "More! Please, more!"

"Are you sure you can take more, baby?"

"For you! I am sure! Force it inside, senpai! Please!"

He chuckles. His head is hot, he might have a fever. And does just as you ask. You cry out, holding your hair back as your headset slips off your head. You can't hold yourself up anymore and now he only sees your face in the close up shot. Your mouth forms an O. He watches how shaking hands fix the headset on your head again.

He almost comes again but stops touching himself.

"You are taking it so well. All the way," he cooes. "You like that, huh? Being stretched so much, filled to the brim."

"I do, senpai!"

"Of course you anal whore." He now sets the machine into an automatic fast pace. You take the entire thing… god knows how. "So sexy!" It pushes into you with such a stretch to your hole that it looks airtight. 

"W-wanna--s-show you," you heave and hold the camera in your hand. You lay down on your back, making sure the dildo does not slip from your greedy hole. You hold the camera up over your lower half and Tomura holds his breath. No way. No "fucking! Hell," he curses and he cums despite not even touching his dick. He's sweaty and whiny, bucking his hips up. Tomura takes his phone again and pushes into you slowly, watching your tummy bulge with the movement. It was so visible, so deep.

"Fuck, baby!"

"You sound so pretty when you cum," you whine. "Please cum again for me, senpai. Wanna hear you again."

You press down on your stomach and it is even more predominant now. You cry out when he suddenly goes so much faster, drunk on seeing how absolutely filled you are. This is stuff he thought only happens in hentai. You make all his dreams come true.

You throw your head back and your breaths come more rigid. Is it finally time? "Senpai!" You cry. "Gonna cum! Gonna cum! Fuck! Cum with me together! Please!"

Tomura is stroking his aching cock relentlessly. Who is he to deny you? He would not dream of it. "Cum for me," Tomura orders. "Keep your eyes on the damn close up!"

You angle the camera you are holding so he can see your core and twisted your head to look at the close up. You are so happy to comply. You get louder then suddenly quiet.

"Thank you," you press over your lips and come undone, shaking and moaning, your whole body jerking. Tomura comes again at the same time and you both moan together.

He pulls the dildo out and despite you still shaking and being utterly fucked out, you make sure he sees your gaping and abused asshole. He takes another screen cap.

"Such a good anal slut," Tomura breathes. "So fucking perfect. You love getting your ass used like that, so much, don't you?"

You nod and whimper.

"Look how wet you are, shit. I'm getting hard again." It is not just the sticky lube that drops from your folds but your very essence.

You finally sit up, hair a mess and face in a deep blush. You are just the cutest when you look so fucked out.

"That was so hot," you giggle, drunk from your orgasm. He smiles. "Want me to–"

"Want to use the vibe now."

You bite your lip and nod, looking lost for a moment as you scramble for it.

"What's up?" He smiles.

"I needed that orgasm so badly, senpai," you blush. "I feel so good now because of you."

He doesn't know what to answer. The feeling in his tummy is getting worse.

You position yourself again, slipping the pink egg into your soaking cunt. You spread it so he can see your clit.

"Bet you taste so good."

"I do."

"No doubt, baby."

He starts to pleasure you, starting the vibrations low then picking up. He only has an hour with you, otherwise he would torture you for hours. Not because he is cruel but because he is selfish, needing to hear your pleasured noises and see you squirm.

Your pussy is so ridiculously wet and sticky. Your juices all flow into your gaping ass hole and it is just a sight. Another screen cap.

"Can I r-rub my clit, senpai?" You ask.

"Yes."

You do so, vigorously flicking the bundled nerves.

"Wanna see you cum again, baby." He knows you are close, he knows you so well. Your pussy is absolutely filthy.

You and him come again at the same time. Your fucked out face worth another screen cap.

"Now ride the skin-colored cock for me, yeah? But drink something real quick, pretty girl." You are sweaty and blushing hard, breathing heavily from how intense your last two orgasms were. All because of him.

You smile and sip on your drink. "Shall I face you or away?"

"Face me. Wanna see your tits bounce, slut."

You get onto your feet and squad down on the toy, meaning and hissing. You start to ride him, bounce on his cock until your tits are swinging. It looked so good.

"Pretty girl! Squeeze those tits! Yes, just like that. Show em to me. How good am I fucking you?"

"So! Good, senpai! Can't even think… all fucked dumb on your cock" you whimper, blissed out. "Gonna cum again."

"Cum again, baby. Need to see how your legs shake, do it. Just for me."

"J'us f'you," you slur and cry out, shaking again, fisting the fluffy blanket. "Thank you!"

"Fuck!" He comes again and is starting to feel light headed. "So good for me, slut! Such a good girl," his eyes are rolled back and he babbles. "So perfect."

He expects you to tell him that his time is over. His heart breaks with that thought. Tomura is covered in heaps of his own cum, his cock is aching and he doesn't want to stop being with you.

You need a moment to regain your composure and he is proud about that, smiling softly. He did that. You pull the dildo out.

"Lick it clean, will you?" He chuckles, high on endorphins.

You let out a gullible giggle and do so, flicking your tongue on the wet toy, throating it until you gag.

He can't move, head leaning back with his hair sticking to his skin, his legs spread wide and abs tensed. His own cum is everywhere.

"Good slut."

"Birthday boy?" You say. "Do you have some more time?"

"For you always." Did you really say that or was he so out of his mind?

He watches how you take the camera and move to your desk. You lay down a towel before sitting in your pink gamer chair, making sure he can see you properly again.

You are his dream girl. You just are meant for him! He is so sure. You are supposed to belong to him. He knows it deep in his bones.

Your legs spread wide over the arms of the chair, exposing your swollen cunt and you rub your clit. "This is my birthday gift to you," you coo and start to finger yourself, then use the other curved dildo he picked.

The faces you make are just art, just perfect. You are so perfect. Tomura's cock doesn't want to be touched again but he just has to. He is being so loud, moaning along with you as he strokes his aching and overstimmed cock.

"Call me slut again, please, senpai. It sounds so good!" 

"Does it, slut? You are such a pretty, dumb whore!" He nearly says he loves you.

"H-hap-PY birth— day," you squeal and liquid shoots from your cunt, your legs snap and shake, eyes roll back.

"Fuck!" He cums again too. It should be impossible but strings of white seeds splurge from his red, swollen tip. He might have lost consciousness for a moment. You don't squirt a lot on stream, it was hard for you to get to that build up you once said but he made you squirt.

When he opens his eyes again you are not sitting there anymore, his heart drops for a second but then you come back with a half eaten cupcake and a candle. The crop top is still rutted up on your chest, your boobs exposed and seem like you forget it.

"It's the only one left," you apologize, chuckling, and put the candle in the cake, lighting it.

You are perfect. You are damn perfect. The cutest girl on this planet.

"Make a wish in 1,2,3." You blow the candle out then clap your hands.

"Thank you," Tomura rasps, his voice so faint.

"Senpai, drink some water, okay? Take a nice shower and have a snack." You smile, utterly exhausted yourself. "It was so much fun with you. I hope I'll see you again. Text me later, okay? So I know you are okay."

"Will do. Take care of yourself, too, baby."

You nod, blow a kiss and the stream ends.

》》》》

You are on his screen again that night. You are still in the thigh highs with a big black sweater, all cozy just playing the sims on stream, talking and answering some questions.

He is staring at the private chat on his phone. What is he going to say? You asked him to text… but what should he say?

(Y/N): What did you wish for? 

The message pops up suddenly and his head snaps up seeing you are holding your phone. He is online, which you can see but not typing, for 10 minutes now. You could tell he is a little shy, just helping him out. He types now.

Decay44: Can't tell you. Won't come true if I do. How are you?

(Y/N): sleepy. And you, senpai?

He can see you are tired. So stupidly cute. He wants to wrap his arms around you.

Decay44: I can't move tbh… But I am happy. Wanna see what you did to me?

You smile.

(Y/N): I do wanna see 👀

He looks up and you do too, smirking. Some people in the chat ask what you are reading.

"Nothing," you purse your lips.

He sends you the picture he took right after, still sitting there. All the cum and how red his cock was just deserved to be preserved. He made sure to not catch his scars of course.

He can see the blush that creeps into your cheeks, how you lick your lips looking at your phone.

(Y/N): you're so hot, senpai ♡

You sigh and throw your head back, "seems like you will get a show actually. I just got incredibly horny."

You are his girl.

[ Hello followers and or fans. I present to you a Tomura Shigaraki piece! This was inspired by the game Coffee Talk. I haven’t finished it, so no spoilers, please. Speaking of which, this piece may have minor manga spoilers so beware. There are also minor themes of kidnapping, a touch of blood, and unwanted affection. It’s Shigaraki, so shouldn’t really expect anything less. ]

[ Being the owner of a coffee shop wasn’t easy, but you found purpose in it. While you were used to all sorts of characters entering your shop for a late-night cup of joe, none was stranger than the hooded man who began frequenting your shop. After a small conversation with him, you’re left feeling a bit shaken. Little do you know that he’s Tomura Shigaraki and he has plans for you. ]

As Tomura sat at his table in the corner of the small coffee shop in Esuha City, his partially gloved hands tightly gripped the cup of coffee he held. It burned him up to see you converse with another man who was one of those lame so-called “heroes.”

A young and ignorant one at that, who thought boasting about being assigned to night patrol for the first time was some monumental accomplishment. Spoiler alert: It wasn’t. He didn’t bother to catch the stupid hero’s name, not that it would matter.

But he had the most irritating suit that consisted of a yellow visor, and a white skin-tight top with some obscure number written across it. He also had yellow and green shoulder pads and a long red cape with matching red gloves, blue pants, and white knee-high boots.

His hair was styled in the most idiotic way Tomura had ever seen. Seriously, who spikes up their hair like that? His eyes were also beady and blue. But what was most irritating was that smile. Damn, he’d like to take a hammer and impact those teeth.

This wasn’t what made his blood boil, however. Oh no. It was the fact that you smiled and laughed at the pathetic excuse for a hero’s lame jokes. Like super lame jokes. Yeah, maybe you were just being polite. Business was business.

This didn’t cross Tomura’s mind. He thought your actions were genuine, and damn, did that piss him off. Why the hell were you even entertaining heroes? Yeah, your coffee shop was relatively new to the area, but it had unique features that set it apart from the competition.

For starters, it opened during the evening and remained open until dawn. You were a lifesaver for those who started their work shift at night. You also helped struggling students who needed a boost of caffeine and a quiet place to work on their assignments.

Or idiot wannabe heroes who thought they were just so cool because they patrolled the streets under moonlight. He clenched his jaw. Oh, if only he knew where the egotistical idiot was patrolling, he’d easily end his damn life. Turn him into nothing but a miserable pile of dust.

It was almost laughable to think that you didn’t even know he was one of the most feared villains in Japan and the leader of The League of Villains. Then again, ignorance was bliss and even villains needed a break occasionally.

This was another reason he tolerated frequenting your shop even if he just stumbled into it one night after “taking care of business.” From what he could recall that night he found himself on the edge of collapsing from exhaustion. It had been pouring rain and he was staggering along the crowded sidewalk.

His anger grew with everyone that passed him and the urge to disintegrate them was intensifying. He was wearing his usual get-up that evening: a large, oversized hood that concealed his face, long skinny jeans that ended just above his ankles, and his usual red sneakers.

He growled in frustration and reached up to wipe his face, but it was of no use considering the rain continued to come down. However, when he lowered his hand, he saw it. The neon sign gleamed through the rain and drew him in like a beacon.

This is also when he made the, admittedly, stupid choice to seek temporary shelter in your establishment and possibly hold everyone hostage if needed. He remembered the sickening warmth that washed over him, in contrast to the cold weary weather when he stepped inside.

He also recalled how the scent of coffee filled his nostrils, along with hints of cinnamon and honey. But what was most eye-catching was you. From the moment he spotted you behind the counter crafting one of your specialty drinks that wasn’t even on the menu for some useless dirtbag present in your shop at the time, he was intrigued.

Of course, that was another unique aspect of your establishment. You were known for your experimental drinks and always wanted to see how well they did with the few customers you had. Regardless, the way you gracefully moved behind the counter made him mesmerized.

He remained frozen at the door, seemingly in a trance until you looked at him and casually welcomed him to the shop. Your equally sickening smile seemed to churn something deep inside him and instead of feeling exhausted, a new and strange emotion enveloped him.

Maybe it stemmed from the fact that even if he looked like a drenched rat who just finished fighting its way through the sewers and onto the streets of the world above, you showed him kindness. He walked to the counter, ignoring the looks of concern from people he didn’t give a damn about.

Hell, he could easily murder them if given the chance. He laid his hands on the counter, ensuring that his thumbs were tucked inward and pressed against the bottom of his palms. His hood continued to cast a shadow over his face, and despite his intense red eyes staring you down, your stupid smile remained.

“What would you like to drink?” You asked, making his lips turn upward in a snarl. “Nothing,” he barked back. He had no money, not that he would pay even if he wanted anything from the shitty excuse for a coffee shop. As if sensing his hostility, you took a step back and cocked your head, appearing more like a puppy than a barista.

But the way your eyes studied him as if looking through his soul, made him curl his hands into fists. It was clear he was getting annoyed, both because of your reaction and the few customers observing his interaction with you. Then you said something he didn’t expect, “It’s on the house.”

At first, he thought it was because, to you, he looked homeless. Maybe down on his luck, but that didn’t make sense. You could have easily told him to leave if he didn’t order anything, and what authorized you to give drinks on the house?

That’s when something clicked and after glancing around to see if there were any other baristas present, he came to the only conclusion that was possible. ‘Hm…so you’re the owner, huh?' He remained quiet and briefly glanced at the menu.

You noticed what he was doing and glanced at it too, but it was challenging to know exactly what he was looking at. So instead, you suggested, “An expresso maybe?” His eyes tore from the menu and lingered on you for a long moment.

Then he shoved his hands into his pockets, marched over to the table in the corner of your shop, and carelessly plopped down. You blinked, somewhat perplexed but grabbed a coffee cup and began making the espresso for him. He wasn’t the first hard-headed customer you had encountered.

Another wave of exhaustion enveloped him, and he closed his eyes briefly, almost ready to give in when he heard something. It sounded like two glass objects scraping against one another. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was you and that damned smile. The second was the expresso sitting on a saucer plate.

A soft growl rumbled in his throat. He wasn’t sure if he was more irritated that you had given him something he didn’t even ask for or the fact that he let you get away with it. He could easily turn everyone in the cafe into dust, including you…so why didn’t he?

“Pff,” he grumbled and slowly straightened his posture before slipping two fingers through the cup’s handle. He brought it to his lips and paused when he noticed you were still standing near him. “Go away,” he demanded, his words coming out with a snarl.

“Oh, uh, sure!” You replied, nervously scampering away like a frightened rabbit back to the safety of its burrow. Yet, it was this moment that burned into his memory and kept him returning. Over a short time, however, his slight curiosity about you turned into an obsession.

The same obsession that burned with unmistakable fury whenever someone else captured your attention, even if for a moment. “Heh, well it was super amazing talking to you but I gotta go! See ya!” When that damned blond-headed idiot of a hero finally left, Tomura sighed, and his tense muscles relaxed.

He leaned back in his chair and glanced around. There were still a few people present, one at the counter mindlessly playing on their phone. Another sitting on the far side of the said counter, reading a book and casually taking sips of their drink.

The last one sat in the opposite corner away from everyone, typing on their laptop. “Tch,” he clenched his jaw and dug his nails into the table. He wanted them to leave so he could finally be alone with you. But if that’s the game they wanted to play, he’d wait them out. Oh yes, he would win.

Slow and steady, as much as he hated it, was the right approach to this situation. Like any good villain, he wasn’t about to deviate from the plan brewing in his mind. Oh no. He’d be patient. Like an animal stalking its prey and pouncing at exactly the right moment. So, there he remained, studying every move you made.

From the way your fingers grazed along the machines, to the way you poured milk into lattes and skillfully morphed it into art. He burned every facial expression you made into his mind. He pondered how it would be to see that sweet face turn into horror when you realized who he was.

The cafe emptied shortly after two in the morning. A twisted smirk danced across his face when he pressed his foot against the floor and slid his chair back to create an eerie scraping noise that echoed through the building and caught your attention.

To his amusement, you jumped, and your pretty little eyes were filled with concern as they looked in his direction. He tried to suppress the chuckle building up in his throat and went to the counter. Your back was now turned to him, seemingly over the slight scare he had given you.

He briefly glanced at the counter, noticing an empty cup sitting on a saucer. He grinned and picked it up, hovering it just over an inch above the counter before releasing it. He took pride in watching you jump and spin on your heels. Your eyes were yet again wide, and fear sparkled in them.

That made his lips curl into a wicked smirk. He couldn’t help but think about how he’d love to see that look in your eyes every day. Oh yes, what a good little addition you’d make to The League. Then again, he didn’t want to share you per se, so maybe he’d just keep you to himself.

Kurogiri would have some questions, he knew. It was almost pathetic that he needed a caregiver, but Kurogiri was trained to obey his every order. However, as of late, Tomura noticed a concerned and suspicious leer in those yellow eyes. Of course, that was something only an idiot would miss.

For now, he was focused on you and the way your hand was still pressed against your chest as you looked at him, still as a statue. “Uh heh…” you chuckled, sensing the awkward tension in the air. Then a thought dawned on you that this man had wandered into your cafe when it was raining particularly hard one night a few months back.

In addition to providing a welcoming environment, you connected with your customers and assisted them in any way you could. This usually involved letting them talk through their problems and sharing advice. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case with this mysterious man.

He didn’t budge no matter how hard you tried to crack his shell and rarely spoke more than three words to you. If you were being honest, after that night, you thought you’d never see him again. Yet, to your surprise, he continued to return.

Another thought dawned on you as he continued to stare at you from across the counter. This was that you didn’t even know his name. Even if you did, it wouldn’t change that there was something about him you couldn’t place.

Ultimately, however, you knew it was wrong to judge a book by its cover. Even though that was quite hard not to do considering he never showed his face, some kind of hood was always hiding it. “Uh, hello,” you said, shifting your feet.

Your greeting was met with silence and the tension seeping through the air grew thicker with each second that passed, slowly suffocating you. For a moment, you thought it was because of the lack of customers and tried to convince yourself that if your cafe wasn’t empty, this would feel less…strange.

But another part of you couldn’t help but, again, feel there was something sinister about him. Although he had done nothing wrong…yet. “Uh,” you cautiously approached him, “is there something you need?” That same wicked smirk decorated his lips, and he took a seat at the counter, resting his arms against it.

His gaze was intense, and the longer he stared at you, the more your heart raced. His smirk then softened, and he leaned his elbow on the counter, cradling his cheek in his hand. “So,” the raspy sound of his voice shattered the silence that permeated the air, “what do you think of All Might?”

You knit your eyebrows, shocked that he spoke more than three words, and asked you a question on top of it. You had a front-row seat for most of the conversations at your cafe, conversations that sometimes, discussed heroes, and on occasion, the number one hero, All Might.

“Um…” you glanced away, uncertain how to answer. You had never been asked exactly what you thought of him! You knew many people admired and adored All Might and for obvious reasons. It surely wasn’t an easy feat becoming the number one hero, let alone retaining the spot for as long as he did.

But were you obsessed with him like others? Did you rush to get his autograph whenever you saw him? Not really. Maybe that was because you were busy trying to maintain your own life. In addition, keeping up with the fabulous daytime life when you were a night owl was hard.

Not to say crime stopped at any point of the day or night, but things seemed calmer when the moon and the stars decorated the sky. You awkwardly rubbed the side of your arm, your stomach twisting and causing a small wave of nausea to consume you.

“Well, he, uh, I mean I think…” you tried taking a deep breath to calm yourself. ‘Come on! You’ve dealt with worse customers,’ you thought before your eyes shifted back to him, and his shadowed face. Yet you could still see that smirk and it drew you in, as much as you hated to admit that.

“I guess I don’t have an opinion on him,” you replied, shrugging. “Kind of hard to keep up with uh, the heroes when you’re busy with your own life,” you motioned to your surroundings with an awkward chuckle. Tomura narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t necessarily the response he was looking for.

It didn’t take an idiot to realize you didn’t put much thought into it like you only said it to please him. While he didn’t mind that, he also appreciated the truth. “And what makes him so damn great?” His voice somewhat fluctuated as he spoke, and you sensed a happy tone dancing within it.

You shrugged, “I guess what makes anyone great?” Your answer stumped him. His posture stiffened, and he lowered his hand from his cheek. “Hm,” that smirk faded. “Is that right?” He asked before leaning over the counter.

“And what’ll happen when he falls?” His question made you jolt and look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Heh, a-are you a villain or something?” You joked, and to your surprise, he laughed, and the sound of it caused a violent shiver down your spine.

Another smirk painted his face and he slowly got up from his seat. He didn’t say anything, but the way he stared left you shivering again. Then he turned and walked to the door. The familiar sound of a bell signified his departure, and you leaned against one of the coffee machines behind you, feeling the heat against your back.

Your heart remained fluttering in your chest like a hummingbird and a wave of fear washed over you. The suspicions you had about him were now confirmed. There was something sinister about him. It didn’t sit right with you that your joke remained unanswered either.

In the back of your mind, however, there was a small voice, maybe your conscience, that told you it was still wrong to judge him. But after that interaction, how could you not? You took a deep breath, trying to regain your previous composure, and looked around the empty room.

The sounds of the night city continued to gently hum as you finally found the courage to close your shop. However, you were unwilling to open tomorrow for fear of seeing him again. Your customers, the very few you had anyway, would understand if you needed a break.

The sound of crunching leaves and twigs underneath his feet, and the melody of bugs chirping and owls singing in the night fell deaf to his ears. His hood, unlike in your cafe, was down, allowing his silver-white hair to shimmer against the moonlight as he walked down the dirt path that led to The League of Villains hideaway.

He scanned his surroundings again. Unlike the usual formal attire he wore, he sported a white sleeping cap with a pom pom at the end of it. His normal metal brace encircled his neck. A cotton button-up pajama top with purple polka dots and matching bottoms covered his body.

While he tried to sleep, it proved impossible as his thoughts remained on Tomura. It was his purpose to always serve and protect him. Yet, as of late, the young boy favored departing for an unknown location and was absent for hours at a time.

While he did not doubt Tomura’s abilities, that didn’t make his purpose less important. If something happened to him, he needed to be there to ensure he did not receive harm. As such, this was not the first night he had stayed up into the early morning hours waiting for the boy to return.

The sky was still dark, but he knew the sun would rise soon. His purple and black mist swirled around as he anxiously awaited Tomura’s arrival. When he heard footsteps approaching, he remained still and focused his attention forward. Relief washed over him when he saw exactly who he was looking for.

“Tomura Shigaraki,” he said, his voice deep and stern. His eyes narrowed the closer the boy came. As usual, no words were spoken between them but rather a silent acknowledgment as Tomura passed him and opened the door.

Kurogiri followed him inside and ensured the door was locked. Tomura grumbled as he walked up to the bar and took his seat. He stared mindlessly at the counter that reminded him of your cafe and the terrified look on your face replayed in his mind, making him smile.

This immediately caught Kurogiri’s attention as he walked behind the counter and to the small bar. Tomura rarely smiled unless someone else was hurt or he felt victory within his grasp. He narrowed his eyes but remained quiet as he grabbed a clean glass.

He added a few ice cubes to it, ignoring the clinking sound they created when they hit the bottom. He then grabbed the whiskey that Tomura was prone to drinking and filled the glass halfway before presenting it to him.

However, he noticed Tomura grabbed the glass and merely stared at the ice cubes floating in it. While he had no idea what was brewing in the boy’s mind, he would be shocked to know that as soon as Tomura looked at the glass, his mind envisioned a coffee cup.

It frustrated him to know you were on his mind again. Yet, the idea that you could be of use to him clouded his judgment. Surely there had to be a reason why he felt drawn to you. While he despised the feeling that stirred inside him whenever he was near or thought about you, he knew he would put it to rest.

Yes…soon he wouldn’t have to worry about this feeling bothering him constantly. Silence filled the space between them as Tomura finally sipped his whiskey. Kurogiri watched him intensively as if studying his every move. Perhaps if he had done that before, he would know the answer to the question he was about to ask.

“Where have you been lately, Tomura Shigaraki?” Without the hand obscuring his face, he could see how Tomura’s facial features contorted with annoyance and anger at his question. However, he continued to push, having become too used to the boy’s immature and sometimes childish attitude.

“You have been acting strangely lately, Tomura Shigaraki. I cannot help but assume there is something you have your sights set on,” he stated. “If that is true, then I must insist that I aid you in any way possible.” He would not accept any other alternative.

A growl rumbled in his throat, but he should have known this would happen. It seemed that he couldn’t go too far without Kurogiri trailing behind him. Hell, even when he tried to keep something secret, he was always found out.

It was pretty damn annoying, but in any case, Kurogiri was a Nomu and as such, he was created to obey his every command. Although at times, it seemed like he had free will. He lowered the glass with a thud and glared at Kurogiri.

However, he didn’t falter under the boy's intense gaze. Rather, he returned it with a blank stare. Tomura sighed and tightened his grip around the glass. The temptation to shatter it in his hand was strong as the image of you popped into his head again.

“Y/n,” the hatred in his eyes grew dark and obsessive as he growled your name and noted that it weighed heavily on his tongue. Kurogiri remained silent, processing what he had just been told. “I see,” he said, stepping closer although the counter separated them.

“Is this person of interest to you, Tomura Shigaraki?” He assumed that you were another villain or perhaps a hero student and that Tomura wished to recruit you as a member of The League of Villains. The burning in his throat was intense when he swallowed the rest of his whiskey.

Silence filled the air before he answered, “Yeah.” Kurogiri nodded but also noted that Tomura’s stare was now directed at the ice cubes that littered the bottom of his glass. This was, again, a strange reaction that contrasted with the boy’s usual personality.

After another minute of silence, an angry expression enveloped Tomura’s features. “They are,” he hissed, and like before, his grip tightened around the glass. His knuckles turned white, and several sharp cracks echoed as it shattered, showering his hand in shards.

Although many would react with concern when something like this happened, Kurogiri grabbed a rag and disposed of the shards that now decorated the counter. “Tomura,” he said. His tone was like that of a father, and he ignored the growl he received in response.

Instead, once the shards were dealt with, he grabbed Tomura’s hand and brushed away any remaining bits of glass. He noticed the few small cuts now etched into the boy’s skin, but it was unlikely he’d want them properly taken care of.

“What do you intend to do regarding Y/n?” He asked once he put the rag away. At the question, Tomura smiled wickedly and leaned his elbow on the counter. “I have a few ideas…” he responded. “I see,” Kurogiri leaned closer to him, “and what do you need me to do, Tomura Shigaraki?”

The sun had gone down by the time you arrived at your shop. Although you chose not to open, you figured you’d take this opportunity to catch up on work you had been falling behind on. This included inventory stock and maintenance.

Additionally, you had ideas for new cafe drinks you wanted to experiment with. Since the curtains were drawn and the establishment was closed, you could do so in peace. ‘Katz Caffeine Coffee Cafe’ His eyes narrowed when he read the sign. Not exactly a catchy name for an establishment.

He could hardly believe that Tomura stated you owned this cafe. While Esuha City was known for its nightlife, he still thought it strange that you chose to open a coffee shop that stayed open late into the morning hours when there were already so many others that did so.

‘Perhaps they think they are…capable of conquering the competition,’ he thought, turning to Tomura who was wearing all-black clothing, including another hood that concealed his face. Of course, that meant very little considering the course of events to come.

“Are you ready, Tomura Shigaraki?” He asked, ignoring the passersby on the sidewalk. They needed to accomplish this quickly and ensure that any heroes present in the area could not interfere before Tomura got what he wanted.

He chuckled in response to Kurogiri’s question and lifted his head, his red eyes beaming from underneath the shadow cast over his face. “Yes,” he said, before pointing at Dabi who was currently nestled in the alleyway between your coffee shop and the next useless building.

His arms were crossed, and his leg was bent, allowing him to press his foot against the opposite building wall. He was wearing his usual attire, a large overcoat with multiple coattails. His shirt was crisp white and wrinkled, hanging loosely from his chest.

His pants were dark in color and had multiple stitch marks across them and as usual, he was wearing combat boots. “Pff,” he sighed. In the back of his mind, he wondered how he could agree to this. However, he had always been good at killing people and causing chaos.

The thought of that alone brought a wicked smirk to his face. He stepped out of the alleyway, shoving his hands into his pockets. He glanced up, noting the moon and stars in the sky before looking at Tomura. “What do you want me to do again?” He asked, his voice carrying a certain annoyed tone to it.

“Why don’t you just shut up and put those damn flames to use?” Tomura hissed in response. “Make sure these stupid people stay away from this place until I’m done getting what I want,” he said, narrowing his eyes on Dabi who, from the start, had always been a thorn in his side.

But at least he knew who was in charge and had enough sense to follow the orders he was given. Dabi rolled his eyes. What the hell was so damn special about you he didn’t know. But regardless, he continued to watch as people walked up and down the sidewalk.

“Whatever,” he replied before curling his hands into fists, his knuckles cracking softly as he did so. A blue flame ignited, engulfing his hands and wrists. “Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled and walked out into the middle of the street.

Car tires screeched, and horns sounded through the air. Some foolish individuals even cursed him out and asked what he was doing. They quickly received an answer when his flames consumed their cars and panic erupted. All of which made him smile.

“Heh,” his grin widened as he watched some people push others to the ground and trample them. Tomura watched the spectacle with amusement before walking to the front door of your establishment, Kurogiri trailing behind him.

“Open your warp gate,” he demanded. Without hesitation, the dark fog that surrounded Kurogiri’s body extended and formed what appeared to be a dark portal in front of Tomura. He stared at it a moment before stepping through, disappearing into the void.

Panic struck you when screams sounded from outside causing you to drop the mug you were holding. It shattered instantly when it hit the floor. Instead of cleaning it up, you jumped over the counter and rushed to the large display window to the left side of your shop.

You reached a shaky hand out for the curtain, your heart pounding erratically in your chest making you feel short of breath. Your throat tightened, forcing you to swallow hard as you finally pulled it back and peeked outside. The only thing you saw was a blinding flame, blue in color, blazing in the street in front of your shop.

The building across the way crumbled under the flames that consumed it. However, you also noticed an individual dressed in black standing in the street, among the flames that didn’t appear to be harming him. It was like he admired the destruction around him including the panicked individuals who continued to run away.

You knit your eyebrows and screamed when he suddenly turned his head. His eyes, almost as blue as the fire that danced around him, seemed to peer right into your soul. You released the curtain immediately before pressing your back against the wall.

Your heart was pounding, and you suspected that at any moment it would leap out of your chest entirely. Your legs trembled threatening to give out from underneath you. The fear that consumed you at the moment was unlike anything you had experienced before. Yes, villains have attacked Esuha City countless times but rarely at night.

You grasped your chest, allowing your nails to dig into the front of your shirt before something else caught your eye. Your head snapped sideways, and you watched in horror as some type of dark portal appeared. In a panic, you ran back to the counter and jumped over it to hide.

You crouched down, pressing your hands against the top of your head and forcing yourself to hold your breath when you heard footsteps. Tomura grinned as he stepped out of Kurogiri’s warp gate and glanced around. It almost brought him delight seeing your shop empty.

Of course, he knew better than to be fooled into thinking it was actually empty. Having overheard one of your many conversations with one of the many idiots that took your attention away, he knew you took priority over certain duties regarding your business when it was closed.

He knew you were here. Even if you were hiding, he’d find you. He continued forward, stopping at the counter, unaware that you lingered on the other side. He allowed his partially gloved fingers to skim across its slick surface.

“Tomura Shigaraki,” Kurogiri said, walking behind him. Your eyes widened when you heard his name, and that fear intensified, making you freeze completely. Tomura Shigaraki. He was a ruthless villain and leader of The League of Villains.

You couldn’t bear to think about the thousands of people he’s harmed, much less killed without feeling nauseous. However, this didn’t stop questions from racing through your mind. What was he doing? What did he want from you? Were you going to die tonight? Why did he bring someone else with him?

You swallowed hard, letting out a quiet breath, and slowly positioned yourself on your hands and knees. Maybe if you crawled around to the storage area located at the back of your shop you could escape or so you hoped. Tomura faced Kurogiri with a glare.

“Are you most certain Y/n is present?” He asked, aware that his question may sound silly, perhaps even stupid. “Of course, they’re here!” He growled in response, slamming his hand on the counter making the sound echo eerily through the shop.

A tremble coursed through your body when you heard your name, and you continued to crawl as quickly and as quietly as you could across the floor. However, you only made it halfway before something pierced your hand. You forgot about the mug you had shattered earlier.

It was one of those shattered pieces that cut your hand easily, making you hiss out involuntarily. Once you registered your actions, you clamped your non-bloody hand over your mouth, silently cursing yourself for giving away your location.

Panic coursed through your body again, and you decided it was better to run and die than to be a sitting duck. However, by the time you got up, Kurogiri had already moved. “You will not escape!” he bellowed. The mist around him spread like a blanket of darkness and his eyes blazed with fury.

Your shoes squeaked against the floor as you stumbled to a stop, and you grasped onto the counter to prevent yourself from falling. The dull ache from the cut on your palm was nothing compared to the dread you felt when you locked eyes with those yellow orbs that were filled with nothing less than hatred.

Once he was certain you were not escaping, the mist that had expanded from his body shrank. That’s when you noticed the oddly formal outfit he was wearing. The crisp long-sleeved button-up shirt caught your attention first, followed by the black tie that adorned its collar and was tucked behind the gray vest that hugged his figure.

He also wore a black belt and dark dress pants with polished Oxford shoes. His eyes narrowed and he looked at you with such intensity and sternness that you almost felt like a child. A frightened child trying to keep the monsters under their bed at bay.

Without thinking, you turned and ran in the opposite direction. What exactly you were planning to do was up for debate. Reaching the front door would be ideal for escape, but then you’d have to deal with the villain outside who was currently turning everything into ash.

Well, either way, it was better than dealing with two villains in a small space. Unfortunately, like Kurogiri, Tomura cut you off quickly. You stumbled to a stop again, but unlike before, you lost your footing and fell onto the floor. You frantically crawled back, despite realizing you were trapped.

“P-please I…” you could still feel those yellow eyes burning a hole in your back. Swallowing heavily, you thought it best to focus on the man in front of you. However, an odd feeling of déjà vu washed over you when you noticed the outfit he was wearing.

“W-wait a minute, y-you’re-” That odd customer, the one that had visited your shop countless times before and the one whose conversation left you trembling. “Heh, oh good, you recognize me,” he replied and lowered his hood. The sight of his appearance sent another shiver down your spine.

He was a slender man, with skin as pale as the moonlight. In addition to the wrinkles around his eyes, his right eye had visible scars across it. His lips were severely chapped and the right side, too, had scarring and a small mole. His hair was silver-white, and half of it was tied behind his head.

The front of his bangs hung in his face in uneven waves and the bottom portion of his hair brushed against his shoulders. His menacing smirk coupled with his bright red irises sent another shiver down your spine. The answer to your previous question was revealed.

He was a villain and he had pretended to be your customer. What could he possibly gain from doing that?! It didn’t make sense, and you still didn’t know why he was here or what he wanted from you. Of course, you failed to realize that he continued to return because he was fascinated by you rather than your coffee shop.

He chuckled, and the disgruntled sound made you spring to your feet. The urge to run was overwhelming, but when you glanced over your shoulder, you saw his accomplice was still present. Additionally, you knew he’d stop you if you made such a foolish attempt. Clenching your jaw, your hands balled into shaky fists.

‘Damn it!’ you cursed inside your head, feeling your eyes burn as they watered over like a dam ready to burst. Kurogiri noticed this, but it only added to his confusion about why Tomura was after you. Someone so delicate and fragile.

It was clear you had nothing to offer The League, yet he refused to believe it had to do with feelings. Tomura was emotional, yes but his emotions were usually negative. Kurogiri was certain that, if by chance, the young boy fell in love, he would take after All For One.

He would not see his token of affection as someone to take care of and tend to. Rather he would see them as his possession. Something that belonged to him and him alone, and whoever dared to do something foolish like take his possession away would suffer a most gruesome death.

Perhaps that was the recent change in Tomura. He had found a new possession to claim as his. Your chest felt heavy, and yet tight as if you were crushed by an enormous weight. Your whole body trembled, and your eyes were wide and looked irritated.

You swallowed and pressed yourself against one of the expresso machines that littered the counter. It was nestled between the coffee grinder and the iced coffee dispenser. Both threatened to tip over as you desperately grasped onto them like they were the only lifeline you had.

Once again you felt the dull ache of your injured palm and it reminded you that this was not a dream. Tomura continued to step toward you, further emphasizing that you were trapped like an injured animal in the corner of an alley.

The echo of your heart pounded in your ears and like you were deprived of oxygen, there was a suffocating tension in the air. His eyes gleamed like a powerful demon as he growled, “Don’t look so damn scared!” and slammed his hands against the machines that were currently digging into your back.

He grinned at the sound of your scream and pride filled him as he observed the devastated state you were in. Then he leaned back to remove his gloves. Kurogiri watched him drop them to the floor and made a mental note to pick them up before they left.

Although Tomura had plenty of specially made gloves, he preferred to keep as many as possible. “Now, heh, I’ll make this simple for you,” he said slamming his hands against the machines behind you again. The only difference this time was several loud cracks sounded, and in a matter of seconds they began to decay.

Their once shiny and solid surfaces turned gray and crumbled like sand. You felt the weight of them disappear, forcing you to steady yourself as they turned to dust. Your eyes never left his, however. As terrified as you were, you refused to look away.

“Come with me, or I’ll fucking kill you,” he growled, and his words shook you. There was no way you wanted to die, but you couldn’t go with him! That was a fate worse than death. In addition, you couldn’t abandon what you created. This shop, this business was your life.

Even though you only had a handful of customers, they needed this shop to act as a safe zone. A place where they could talk about their worries and problems without judgment. The very idea of taking that away finally broke you, and a soft sob passed your lips before hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

Tomura paused, and his eyes traced the tears that slid down your face and slowly dripped from your chin. Then his eyebrows knitted as if he was confused about why you were crying. But it didn’t matter. Even if you foolishly refused to go with him, he’d take you by force. As the seconds ticked by, Kurogiri narrowed his eyes.

“Tomura Shigaraki,” he said, watching the boy pause and look at him with a snarl. He knew he needed to be careful with his next words. While there was the possibility that you meant something to Tomura, even if the boy himself hadn’t fully realized that yet, it was clear this was going nowhere.

Despite knowing he did not take failure well, Kurogiri needed to ensure Tomura returned to The League safely with or without you. However, his focus turned to the front door of your establishment which not only ignited into flames but was ripped off its hinges when Dabi forcibly used his fire to barge his way in.

Tomura, surprisingly, seemed unphased by this sudden intrusion despite your accompanying scream. He leaned back, looking at Dabi blankly. “Just what the hell is taking so damn long?” He questioned, and your throat tightened as you tried to suppress another sob.

With Tomura in front of you, it was impossible to see the man who forced his way into your shop. Not that it would matter considering your vision was blurry due to tears. You could, however, see the blue flames that were beginning to consume your cafe, and the heat made you sweat.

The only salus you had, as much as you hated to admit it, was Tomura shielding you from who you could only assume was the same man you had seen in the street earlier. You then assumed that he was also part of The League of Villains.

“The heroes have been alerted, let’s go already,” he hissed, gesturing behind him and toward the now broken entranceway. Pain danced in your eyes as you watched his flames consume the building inch by inch. Tomura growled. “Shut up!” He snapped before looking at Kurogiri.

“Well?” He said, snatching his gloves off the floor and making you flinch. Sweat dripped down your forehead, and your tears had evaporated. You felt faint among the other overwhelming emotions that caused your knees to buckle and you to fall back onto the floor in front of Tomura.

He paused and glanced at you before his eyes fell back on Kurogiri. He looked at him blankly, awaiting his orders. “Use your warp gate already!” Tomura screamed like a spoiled child and placed his hands on his hips before glaring at Kurogiri.

He placed his hand on his chest and bowed. “As you wish, Tomura Shigaraki,” he replied, and your heart jumped in your chest. ‘Warp gate?’ Suddenly that image of the dark portal from earlier popped into your head. That was his quirk! Your eyes widened when you watched more dark portals appear, seemingly out of thin air.

You gasped. “Wait!” You cried out, but it was too late. The ground dissolved beneath you. A rush of wind enveloped you, and the sensation of weightlessness before gravity kicked in and you fell flat onto solid ground. You groaned, noting the floor was cold and rough.

You recovered after a moment and slowly opened your eyes. Despite your vision spinning you could make out various glass bottles lining two wooden shelves, and the bright yellow light behind them only irritated your vision further.

“H-huh?” You pushed yourself onto your knees, slowly taking in your new surroundings. The dizziness caused a wave of nausea to flow over you, but you refused to give in to the feeling. Instead, you took a deep breath and continued looking around.

You noticed there was a doorway covered with a purple curtain next to the shelves. A wooden counter surrounded the area, and a small television rested at the end of the counter. If this was a bar, a wide-screen television was usually present.

‘Weird…’ you thought, before noticing the walls were made from brick and a coffee machine was sitting on a small table next to the television. Your heart sank in your chest as you were reminded of your cafe which was likely nothing but a pile of smelted wood and ash now.

Your head immediately snapped toward the purple curtain as another dark portal appeared. You watched in horror as Tomura stepped out and frantically crawled back, only to hit something. You trembled, feeling your throat tighten as you tilted your head to see that strange mist man. His eyes stared into your soul again.

“Ah!” You frantically twist your body, wanting to get away from him. However, you hit one of the shelves and the sound of the bottles clinking together echoed eerily through the room. “W-Where am I!?” You frantically asked, your voice dripping with fear. Tomura sighed when he walked up to you.

Knowing you were trapped again. You could only shake uncontrollably as he crouched down and forcibly grabbed your chin. You could feel his nails dig into your flesh through the glove he was wearing and when you looked into his eyes, they had an inhuman glint.

“Don’t ask such a stupid question,” he growled, baring his teeth, and tightening his grip making you wince. “Kurogiri,” he said when he released your chin and threw you back against the shelf, yet again making the bottles rattle.

Your heart pounded, and you fisted your hands into your hair. Ignoring the dried blood on your injured palm and the accompanying sting that came with it. “Yes, Tomura Shigaraki?” He replied, shifting his attention from you to him.

“Make sure their stupid hand is cleaned,” he said, referring to your injured palm. Yes, he wasn’t so ignorant as to not notice it. He took pride in being observant. Noticing every little detail always gives you an advantage over others.

Kurogiri found the request rather…strange and shifted his gaze to you. Despite the distressed state you were in, he wondered what it was about you that made Tomura act like he cared. ‘Yes...what does he see in this one?’ It was surely a mystery, but perhaps you’d prove to be useful.

“Yes, Tomura Shigaraki,” he repeated before walking closer to you. A gasp passed your lips and you snapped back to reality when you looked at him. Your eyes were wide, and your face was colorless. “After that,” Tomura said, grabbing your chin and making you hiss out.

His eyebrows slanted, his eyes beaming as he stared at you. His lips twisted into a smirk and when he leaned forward, you squeezed your eyes shut. You expected more pain, perhaps even his opposite hand on your throat or tangled in your hair.

Instead, you felt the roughness of his lips against yours making your eyes snap open and your breath hitch. Kurogiri’s eyes widened as he watched Tomura initiate this act of affection and his body stiffened. Perhaps it was his instinct to protect Tomura, but this was the first time he had seen the boy act this way.

His eyes then narrowed, and his body relaxed. ‘Perhaps they have some value to him,’ and if that were true, then Kurogiri would too, see value in you. Dabi grumbled as he pulled back the curtain, opening his mouth to speak. However, he stopped short when he saw the scene before him.

He narrowed his eyes and placed his hand on his hip. “Just what the hell is going on?” He demanded and Kurogiri looked at him, unable to explain. When he realized this, he shrugged. He didn’t really give a shit about what Tomura was doing or who he was going to fuck or do who knows what with.

“Whatever,” he replied before walking around the counter and toward the door, muttering about burning something else. He growled against your lips, making your eyes widen. However, it wasn’t that difficult to figure out it had something to do with his accomplice entering the room and leaving.

Tomura hated interruptions as much as failure. When silence fell over the room again, he noticed that your lips felt plump, smooth, and perfectly shaped. It made his blood boil, like an angry firestorm that destroyed everything in its wake. Yet, there was a trace of undeniable greed.

That possessive nature reminded him you were his to take and do with what he wanted. Yes, you were his possession, and you would never leave him. However, his lips tasted bitter to you and left your skin crawling. What should have been a warm or passionate action was an unwanted advancement.

Yet, you were too afraid to move away. To push him, do anything to stop or break the kiss. How could you live with yourself having kissed a villain? Did he want you because he had feelings for you? Was everything he and his accomplices did because he wanted you for himself?

The realization made you gag. Although it was silenced between your mouths, it didn’t make Tomura any less aware you were gagging, and he pulled away with another growl. However, instead of hurling you against the shelf again, he stood up and walked around the counter to take a seat.

Even when he was a short distance away from you, your body continued to tremble. Kurogiri, meanwhile, grabbed the first aid kit. While All For One provided Tomura with medical attention when needed, courtesy of Dr. Kyudai Garaki.

Kurogiri kept a first aid kit on hand because Tomura had some self-destructive habits, such as scratching his skin open, primarily around his neck area. As such, he attended to these minor injuries and ensured they were properly cleaned and bandaged when needed.

Although he hated the idea of using precious resources on anyone except Tomura, he could not resist an order given to him. So, he crouched down beside you and grabbed your hand, making you gasp again. He paused, only to look at you. It was clear you were scared, and your trembling didn’t help.

But you weren’t resisting and so he gently took your hand in his, examining the cut. The skin around it was red and inflamed, and dried blood was smeared across your palm and fingers. However, that was nothing minor disinfectant couldn’t take care of.

Compared to Tomura, Kurogiri had a strange gentleness about him. At least that’s what you could gather from the delicate way he cleaned your wound and wiped the dried blood away before wrapping it up. When he released your hand, you pressed it against your chest, feeling the now steady pace of your heart.

You watched as he gathered the bloody rag and threw it away. After that, he returned the first aid kit to its proper place and looked at Tomura. “I am finished,” he stated. “Heh, great,” Tomura replied and leaned over the counter, looking at you.

“Why don’t you be useful and make me a damn cup of coffee?” He replied, but his smile faded when his order was greeted with silence. “Now!” he snapped, slamming his hands against the counter, and making you stagger to your feet.

Your legs remained shaking and felt like they would give out from underneath you at any moment. Regardless, you stumbled to the coffee machine you spotted earlier and cried out when your knees bent, making you desperately clench onto the small table.

You sharply inhaled, not having realized you were holding your breath. You could feel the weight of Tomura and Kurogiri’s stares and your hands trembled as you tried to open the coffee machine to see if there were coffee grounds in it. As you did this, another dark realization came. You captured a villain’s heart.

But not just any villain’s heart, Tomura Shigaraki’s. The one who could turn you into dust at any moment. Instead of having the happy life you envisioned, one where you served customers, lent them your ear, gave advice, and shared happy memories with one another. You were now and forever Tomura’s object of affection.

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.

Smut headcanons for my babygirls [Dabi & Shigaraki]

(PLEASE IGNORE THE TITLE–)

TW: Mentions of captivity, noncon, degrading

Reader has gender neutral pronouns with afab body

Toya Todoroki Dabi

-Alright, so Dabi sure does like his piercings, doesn't he? Ear piercings, nose piercings, I guess the surgical staples might count as piercings? You get what I'm trying to say. Anyway Dabi most certainly has a Jacob's ladder. Do with that what you will.

-He may or may not force you to get your tits pierced. He'll do it himself.

-I think he would be around 6 inches exactly, and he doesn't shave. He doesn't care about his hair being white down there, you ain't gonna tell nobody.

-He especially loves your thighs. Nibbling on the flesh, licking his way up until he reaches your cunt. Maybe some light burn marks, if you beg him. He loves it when you beg.

-Caress his scars during sex and he will melt.

-Sex drive is low. Surprising, right? He's a flirty scumbag but most of the time it's just to get a reaction outta you. He just wants cuddles. He's a big softie.

-Most of the time.

-I mean what do you expect? For him to burn and rape you every day? Hell no! My boy needs affection. You're the only person for him, and he will cherish you. His family didn't love him, so he gets that love from you.

-Now, while we're mentioning rape... Dabi isn't against that. He prefers it consensual but he won't hesitate if he's hot 'n bothered.

-No he does not use sex as a punishment.

-The pace differs if it's consensual or not. He'll be rough if you agree to it, it's what you signed up for. But if he's nonconning you, it will be the softest noncon. He'll have you ride him, hands on your hips as he so gently thrusts up into your wet pussy. Praise, praise, praise. He's so gentle.

-Now his aftercare is a little lazy. Grabs a cigarette from the pack on his desk, taking a long drag from it, and pulls you down with him so you can lay on his bare chest.

-Dabi's a villain but he doesn't want you to fear him. Until you try to run away, but that's a story for a different time.

"Hush, baby, shh. I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm just making you feel good, my flame. You'll thank me later. Please just enjoy it."

Tenko Shimura Tomura Shigaraki

-Shigaraki doesn't have any piercings, unlike Dabi. But you know what he does have? A collar and leash. He'll strap that pretty pink collar around your neck, and yank on the leash when you don't give him exactly what he wants.

-He's a tits man. He doesn't care how big they are, how small they are, he likes sucking on them. And biting them. And groping them. He likes tits.

-Shigaraki went through several body modifications while he was going through his procedure in season six, didn't he? Well along with his muscles, his dick also grew a bit in size, going from 5.7 inches to 6.3 inches. It's gonna take some time to get used to, but don't worry, he'll teach you how to take it.

-His hair down there changes colour along with the hair on his head. You know because he doesn't shave, either. He honestly can't be fucked doing it. Lazy ass.

-High sex drive. Very high sex drive. You can't blame him, man has probably never seen pussy irl. Very horny.

-Now... Similarly to Dabi, Shigaraki loves and craves your affection. Unfortunately though, Shigaraki is a lot more sadistic than Dabi.

-Which means yes, he will also rape you. But not gently like Dabi. He's rough, aggressive, dominant, he'll tie you down if he has to. He doesn't ask for consent either. He'll just get on top of you and decay your clothes, and you'll know exactly what's about to happen to you the moment you notice the bulge in his jeans.

-Sex is also used for punishments, though it's mainly used for more severe rule breaking, like attempting to call the police.

-He's very degrading. He likes to call you a variety of names, including slut, whore, pet, cumslave, etc etc.

-Dacryphilia fetish.

-But don't worry, it's not all bad. See, if you've read my previous works (mainly on Wattpad), you'll know that Shigaraki gets more sweet when you comply with his demands. Even if it takes months, years, to get used to his rules, he'll reward you if you're a good captive.

-Likewise, his aftercare is very good. Almost as if he wants to make up for the assault with affection. He'll get you a nice, cold glass of fresh water, and once you finish that, he'll carry you to the bathroom and bathe you. Then the rest of the night is spent in his embrace, and he always stays up for hours after you fall asleep. Just gently caressing and kissing your hair.

-He's sadistic and twisted but he still cares about you.

"Awh, are you crying? Don't like what I'm doing to you? Too fucking bad. I own every inch of your body, so scream for me bitch."

Author's Note: That feeling you get when you put lots of effort into a post but turns out it's really short :(

💗

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 17) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

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

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16

Chapter 17

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. Right now, the thing that’s wrong with it is the fact that every last light in the place is on when Hizashi guides his sports car to a stop in front of it. He rolls down the window and raises his voice in a holler that wakes you out of your doze and probably wakes the rest of the street up, too. “Special delivery, o petulant one! One human, safe and sound.”

Tomura opens the door and steps through it, which is unusual. Usually he materializes straight through the door, but this time, he’s solid enough to leave footprints all the way down the steps and along the path to the gate. You unfold yourself out of Hizashi’s car, wincing at the stiffness in your legs. Hizashi’s car is cool, but it’s sure as hell not comfortable.

Once you’ve retrieved your suitcase from the backseat, you turn to face Hizashi. “Thanks for the ride back,” you say. “And the sketches from the photos. I couldn’t have done those.”

“That wasn’t the worst research trip I’ve ever been on,” Hizashi says. You figure that’s as close to “you’re welcome” as you’re going to get.

He pulls a u-turn and zooms off down the block, and you turn to face your own house. The gate’s already open, and once you step through it, Tomura seizes you, suitcase and all. Your feet leave the ground, and Tomura sets off up the path, awkwardly carrying you. “Hey,” you complain. His shoulder’s wedged underneath your sternum in a way that’s deeply uncomfortable, and one of his hands is glued to your ass. “Put me down.”

Tomura doesn’t answer, and you consider thrashing until he puts you down. But he’s so stubborn that he probably wouldn’t let go, and the only thing worse than being carried through the yard like a sack of potatoes would be taking yourself and Tomura down for everybody to see in an attempt to escape. You decide to stick it out. You can thrash once you’re inside.

As it turns out, you don’t get a chance to thrash. Tomura drops you on the floor the instant the door shuts and climbs on top of you, and Phantom leaps over your dropped suitcase to join the party. All the air whooshes out of your lungs and it takes you a second to recover. “So you weren’t joking when you said you missed me.”

“Shut up,” Tomura mumbles. His ice-cold hands slip beneath your shirt, splaying across your ribcage, grasping at your shoulder. “You said you’d be back last night. It’s morning.”

“Two in the morning. That’s still nighttime,” you protest. Tomura makes a discontented sound. With your shirt hiked up, your stomach’s exposed, and you startle when Phantom pokes you with her nose. “Hey! I’m already cold enough.”

“She missed you.” Tomura shifts his weight slightly, allowing you to free one of your hands so you can scratch Phantom’s ears. “I missed you more.”

Phantom would probably dispute that if she could talk. You wrestle your hand out from being crushed between your chest and Tomura’s and swat his shoulder lightly with it. “I can’t believe you put a heart in your contact on my phone.”

“You said I could have an emotion thing.”

“An emoji. And I said you could have the ghost one. Not a heart,” you say. “A ghost is what you are. A heart – says things. It wouldn’t make sense to you.”

“It’s not that complicated,” Tomura says. There’s an odd note in his voice. “I’m not stupid. I know how human things work. I know what it means that you don’t want people to know about me.”

For a moment you’re reminded of Hizashi, of Hizashi’s insistence that he understands humans enough to know why people do what they do. “It’s just hard to explain. That you’re a –”

“I can pass as human if I need to. I even blink the right way. The others don’t.”

“But –” You break off, clamp your mouth shut. Not tonight. You don’t want to have this argument tonight. Not when you’ve missed him. Not when you just got home. “I told my parents you’re my boyfriend. They want to meet you. When they come here we’ll figure something out. Okay?”

“You’re embarrassed about me,” Tomura says. “That’s what –”

“Stop listening to Dabi about me,” you say. You talk over Tomura’s question about how you knew what he was going to say. “It’s always Dabi trying to make you feel bad about yourself. Has anybody else ever said things like that to you? Anybody who’s not a dick?”

Tomura makes an irritated sound in response, which means you’re right about this. “Hey,” you say. You lift one hand from where it’s resting between his shoulder blades and start to comb your fingers through the ends of his hair. “I missed you the whole time I was gone. You staying on the phone with me all night was maybe the nicest thing anybody ever did for me. If I’m weird about you meeting my parents, it says more about them than it does about you.”

“Mmh.” Tomura still sounds unhappy, but he settles into your arms, and you feel him relax muscle by muscle. “Would you still be weird if I was human?”

“Weirder,” you say, and he snorts. “Can we get off the floor now?”

“The floor’s fine.”

“Says the person not laying on it.” You shift around until Tomura pulls his hands out from under your shirt and moves. “I’m going to the couch.”

“I was comfortable,” Tomura complains.

“If you let me get to the couch in the first place, you wouldn’t have had to move.”

You have a feeling Tomura had something in mind for when you got home tonight, but the two of you kiss for approximately ten seconds before Phantom jumps on the couch with you, and you know Tomura would never push her away. She makes herself comfortable in between your feet and Tomura’s and starts to snore. Ordinarily it’s a mood killer, but ordinarily you haven’t been gone for a day and a half. Tomura waits a few seconds to see if she’ll wake up, then leans in to kiss you again.

In general, Tomura has one type of kissing in his repertoire – hot and heavy making out, more enthusiasm than technique. The technique’s there, sure, but it takes a backseat to trying to enthusiastically suck your soul out through your mouth. Except for right now. Right now his kisses are softer, almost gentle. And slow. One of his hands grips your jaw to turn your head for better access, but then it shifts to cradling it, cold fingers pressed against your cheek and your throat as he kisses you. You’re not really sure what to make of it. But you like it.

It gives you more time for things. You have time this way, time to slide your hands beneath his shirt, tracing over the outlines of his vertebrae, a little more prominent than they should be. If he was human, he’d be almost skeletally thin, but you’d touch him like this more if you could get away with it. Maybe he’ll let you sometime. Tomura makes a contented hum against your mouth and sinks deeper into the kiss.

But it’s weird. Usually when he kisses you he’s wound up within seconds. You draw back, or try to. He won’t let you, so you pull one hand from under his shirt, plant it on his cheek, and shove him back just enough to give yourself space to talk. “What is this about? You’re not usually like this.”

“I never get to do it as long as I want. My body starts acting stupid, and then I burn through too much life-force and I have to go.” Tomura is holding perfectly still, even though he’s sprawled out on top of you in a way that’s probably hard to balance. “I thought maybe if I went slower I could stay longer.”

He peels your hand away from his face and leans in again. You still have one hand on his back. With the other one free, you can run your fingers through his hair, and you’re surprised to find that it’s not tangled. This time you speak around the kiss. “Did you brush your hair?”

“No.”

Huh. You go back to kissing him, unconcerned, until a thought crosses your mind and you sit partway up in surprise. Tomura starts bitching immediately at being jarred out of position, but you ignore him. “Did you dematerialize at all while I was gone?”

“No.” Tomura sits up, too, but only for the purposes of pushing you back down. “Come back. I’m not done.”

You’d really like to keep kissing him and not thinking about anything at all, but now your mind is spinning and you can’t make it stop. “Why would you do that? That was thirty-six hours. Why would you burn that much energy?”

“Why does it matter? I still have enough.” Tomura’s being dumb on purpose. You know he is, and you don’t think it’s just because he wants to go back to kissing. “Humans are like this all the time.”

No. Not right now. You can’t have this fight right now, but – “But you aren’t!”

“Aren’t what?”

“Human,” you say. “Why –”

You break off. Tomura’s red eyes are fixed on yours. “Say it.”

You’ve wondered on and off if he knows this fight is coming. Now you know for sure. “No,” you say. “Not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I just got home. It’s late and I missed you and you missed me.” You pull at Tomura’s shoulders. “I want to kiss you. I don’t want to do this. Not tonight. Please.”

If he asks you any more questions, you might lose it. If he asks you what you’re so scared of, it might all come spilling out at once. But Tomura doesn’t ask. He doesn’t ask when the two of you are going to talk about it, either. He just thinks about it for a few seconds before leaning in to kiss you again.

It feels like kissing and making up, when the two of you haven’t even had a fight yet. The real fight is coming. Tomorrow, or maybe the next day, or the day after that. One of these days you’re going to snap and tell Tomura to stop talking about wanting to be human when he threw away his chance at the real thing, and he’ll probably ask you why you give a damn, and then you’ll have a choice to make. Lie and say you don’t care either way. Or tell him what you can barely admit to yourself: You love him, and you want a life with him. It’s easy to imagine Tomura protesting that the two of you have a life already and having to correct him. A human life. Together.

You can’t say that. He might talk about being human, but you know better than to think that’s what he really wants. What you have with him right now is what you’re going to get, and it’s good. It’s enough. You sink your hands into his hair and kiss him until your eyelids start to feel heavy, and you don’t stop there. The last thing you’re aware of before you fall asleep is the icy pressure of Tomura’s body against yours, and the sensation of his ribcage expanding and contracting beneath your hands as his lungs fill with breaths he’ll never truly need.

You’re a wreck in the morning, partially from sleeping on the couch all night and partially from a nightmare you had while you were there. You didn’t wake up from it, and Tomura didn’t notice anything – when you ask him in the morning if you’d done anything weird in the night, he shakes his head and flops back down on you, unwilling to let you move even though he’s been there for hours. You don’t tell him you had a bad dream, and you definitely don’t tell him what it was about.

You were in your neighborhood, or where your neighborhood used to be. The houses were ruins of what they’d been before, and you were alone in the middle of the street. There were scraps of something floating by in the wind, something that looked like the shreds of a ribbon made of clouds and ash, and you were chasing them, grabbing as many as you could. No matter how many you grabbed hold of, there were always more, and as you raced frantically down the street, the wind kicked up, carrying them further and further away. Scattering them, until there was no hope you’d ever find them all.

In the dream you felt sick. You wanted to scream and cry, but mostly, you wanted to find Tomura. You called out for him over and over again with no answer, and you remember the exact moment in the dream when it dawned on you. When you looked down at the meager wisps of cloud and ash in your hands and realized that you’d found all that was left of him already.

You try to be normal about it. It was just a dream. But you’re creeped out after your conversation with Hizashi yesterday, and instead of being calm and collected, you wind up clingy. You’re worried Tomura will be annoyed, but Tomura’s pretty enthused about it, at least until you start shivering and your stomach growls. He dematerializes out of your grip. “Go eat or something. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your phone rings while you’re waiting for your electric teakettle to finish heating up and staring at a banana, trying to summon up any desire to eat it. You answer. It’s Keigo. “Yo, humans-only strategy breakfast today. Are you in or are you in?”

“You have to be in,” Spinner says from somewhere in the background. “You owe me.”

You do owe Spinner. A lot. “Okay. I can come over –”

“We’ll drive. Be ready to go in five minutes.”

You hang up the phone, feeling a little whiplash. Tomura’s hovering close enough over your shoulder to have listened in. He’s frowning. “You’re leaving again?”

“I owe them,” you say. Tomura flops against your back, chin notched over your shoulder, clearly pouting. “I’m sorry. I want to stay.”

“Then stay.”

“I won’t be gone long.” You twist in his arms to face him and hug him, burying your face in his shoulder. The dream comes back to you, the memory of those scraps of essence fluttering in your hands, and you hug him tighter. The words slip out before you can stop them. “I love you.”

Tomura freezes in your arms. “What?”

You should stay put. You should explain yourself. You can’t just drop something like that and expect him to let it go. In his spot, you wouldn’t. But instead of explaining, you yank yourself out of his grip and bolt for the front door. “Hey!” Tomura snaps, chasing after you. He’s not dematerializing. That gives you the edge. “Get back here. You can’t just –”

You open the front door, book it down the steps, and step through the gate just in time for Keigo’s car to reverse out of his driveway, hang a turn, and come to a stop in front of your house. “Get in.”

Jin is in the front seat with Keigo. You and Spinner are in the back, and you think that will be everyone – but then Keigo hits the brakes outside of Aizawa’s house, and Aizawa comes shambling down the front steps, looking like hell. Keigo snorts. “Looks like somebody had a busy night.”

Jin snickers, then twists around to look at you. “Did you sleep? You look like you slept a little bit. Damn, I had a bet that Tomura was going to keep you up all night.”

The idea of the neighborhood discussing your sex life, let alone betting on it, is absolutely horrendous, even if the former ghosts are kept apprised of everything that happens courtesy of Tomura’s unwillingness to keep a lid on his feelings. Jin waits for a comment from you, doesn’t get one, and turns to Spinner. “You hung out with him the other day. Did he say anything to you?”

“About what?” Spinner looks like he feels the same about this conversation as you do, which is reassuring. “We were just playing Pokémon. He was kind of mopey, but that was it.”

That reminds you – you need to thank Spinner. “How much do I owe you for what you gave him?”

“I didn’t buy new stuff. I just gave him old stuff I don’t really use,” Spinner says. “He’s not bad to play with. Better than Jin.”

“Don’t be mean,” Jin protests. “I suck!”

Aizawa knocks on the passenger-side window and scares all four of you. Jin rolls it down to stare at Aizawa and Aizawa stares back. “Out.”

The five of you set off for breakfast, Aizawa riding shotgun while you’re sandwiched between Jin and Spinner in the back of the car. The tight conditions don’t do much to improve your mood. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes,” Aizawa says. “It seems the responsibility for dealing with Tomura’s conjurer will fall to us.”

You don’t know where he got that idea. From Hizashi? Hizashi’s conjurer is dead, so it shouldn’t matter to him if Tomura takes himself out killing Shigaraki. Everybody else in the car seems to be on board with it, though, and it’s not like you can get out of the car. You’re trapped. Worst of all, your phone is buzzing, and you have a bad feeling you know who’s sending the messages. You would, if you were in Tomura’s spot. If he’d told you he loved you and promptly ran for it, you’d start blowing up his phone with no guilt whatsoever.

You decide that for the sake of your sanity, you’re not going to look at your phone. You’ll deal with this when you get home and not before.

The restaurant the others are dragging you to is one you recognize. When you and your college friends needed hangover food after a long night, you came here. Keigo must have had a similar experience, because he orders for all five of you without looking at the menu, and once there’s coffee in front of everybody, he looks at you. “So. What did you find out?”

“I didn’t find anything worth dragging me out of my house this early,” you say. “Ask him.”

You point at Aizawa, who’s too busy chugging coffee to answer. He finishes his cup, takes Keigo’s, and drinks half of it before speaking up. “There’s a strong chance that Tomura’s conjurer has very few remaining ghosts. If that’s the case, all Tomura needs to do in order to cut his conjurer’s access to the world between is to remain materialized.”

To remain materialized. Like he’s apparently been doing for most of the last forty-eight hours. “If he does so,” Aizawa continues after the rest of Keigo’s coffee, “he’d leave his conjurer with close to the same degree of power as a human man possesses. Which would leave him vulnerable to us.”

“So that’s what this is about,” Keigo says. He steals Jin’s coffee, and you drag your cup closer in case Jin’s getting any ideas. “If we want the conjurer dead –”

“And we don’t want Tomura to get sucked back into the world between –” Spinner breaks in.

“We have to do it ourselves.” Keigo completes the sentence. “Our thoughts are safe. They can’t read our intentions. When he gets here, we’ll kill him.”

“Great,” you say. “That still doesn’t explain why I’m here.”

“We need to tell you because we need Tomura to buy in,” Spinner says. “If he decides to get into it with his conjurer as a ghost, we can’t help. And, uh –”

“The plan from before is still a good plan,” Jin says eagerly. You look at him, your mind utterly blank. “I mean, it sucks. But it’s better than nothing.”

“The plan from before,” you repeat. And then it clicks – the plan for dealing with Garaki, and the reason why you and not somebody else need to be the one who convinces Tomura. “Except this time I’m the bait.”

“Right,” Keigo says. “He’s not going to come out of hiding unless he’s got a good reason. We need to offer him something big. His wayward ghost’s human? It doesn’t get any bigger than that.”

If the conjurer’s hesitating to take on Tomura, you have a hard time believing that he’ll risk coming after you. But you don’t need him to attack you. You just need him to show himself. Still – “If Tomura doesn’t think you can protect me, he’ll never go for this plan. All of us fought Garaki. We couldn’t touch him.”

“Funny you should say that, because I remember you sneaking up out of nowhere and hitting him with a stick.”

You can’t keep the sarcasm out of your voice. “And look how much good that did.”

“A lot of good, given that he released Dabi when you struck him,” Aizawa says, and you shut up. “Garaki was connected to a thousand ghosts. It’s likely that Tomura’s conjurer is working with far fewer.”

“One.” You speak before the thought’s fully formed, but then you realize what you’re actually saying and keep talking. “He told me that when Mr. Yagi and his conjurer fought, he felt the other ghosts connected to his conjurer being destroyed. So unless that conjurer’s made a bunch of new haunts –”

“He hasn’t,” Aizawa says.

“Then it could work,” Keigo says. “Let’s come up with a plan.”

Thankfully, breakfast arrives before the planning starts in earnest, so the server doesn’t have to interrupt a conversation about how to get away with murder. The how-to-get-away-with-murder conversation includes you only tangentially. Your main role is to be here, memorize the plan, and present it to Tomura as totally simple, easy, and low-risk. You pick at your breakfast, horrified to find that you wish you were more involved in the planning. As terrible as it is, it would be better than thinking about what’s going to happen when you get home.

Eventually the group settles on a course of action. You’ll take off your bracelets to expose yourself and give them to Hizashi instead, hoping they’ll hide his powers long enough for the conjurer to close in on you. Once he does, Hizashi will restrain him, someone will contact Tomura and order him to materialize, and everyone else will kill the conjurer once he loses access to the world between. You’re pretty sure Tomura will have issues with multiple parts of the plan, and you say so, but as Spinner points out, Tomura won’t be able to stop the plan once it’s in motion without endangering you. You’re inclined to point out that all Tomura has to do to stop the plan from ever getting going in the first place is to stop you from leaving the house, but you’re pretty sure he won’t do that. In fact, if he’s mad enough at you about this morning, there’s a good chance he won’t let you back in.

You’re hoping to get home immediately after breakfast, but everyone else decides that they might as well run errands while they’re out and about. You get dragged to the dry cleaners, the grocery store, the game store, and the makeup counter at the nearest department store before Aizawa puts his foot down. On the way back to the neighborhood, everybody quizzes you about the plan, making sure you’ve got all the details. You’ve got them. You’ve also got a pit of dread yawning open in your stomach, and it gets worse the instant Keigo makes the turn onto your street.

You wonder if the other ghosts have felt anything emanating from your house, or if Tomura’s kept a lid on his feelings for once. Now that you think about it, you’ve got no idea what Tomura might be feeling right now. Keigo comes to a stop in front of your house and you square your shoulders. You’re about to find out.

The front door swings open as you climb the stairs, then shuts and locks behind you. Phantom runs to greet you, just like always, and you sit down to cuddle with her. There’s no sign of Tomura. With Phantom cuddled in your lap and licking your chin, you fish your phone out of your pocket and check your messages.

Tomura ❤️: did you mean it

Tomura ❤️: you can’t just say that and run away

Tomura ❤️: if you didn’t mean it don’t come back

Tomura ❤️: i don’t need you

Tomura ❤️: i don’t need any of this

You set your phone down and push it away. Then you look up and out at the empty space in front of you. “I meant it. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

Tomura’s voice echoes out of everywhere and nowhere. “Then why did you leave?”

“I wasn’t planning to say it right then. Or like that,” you say. “It sort of just – came out. Sorry.”

“How long?”

“Huh?”

“How long?” Tomura demands. He materializes partially in front of you, and Phantom scrambles out of your lap and runs to him. Based on the way she’s acting, you can tell he’s been hiding from her all day, and he feels guilty enough about it to materialize the rest of the way. He’s petting her, fussing with her ears, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter but just as intense as before. “How long have you loved me?”

It crosses your mind that you could lie. Moreover, that you should lie. That you should say it’s something recent – the last few weeks, or maybe the last month at the very most. So recent that it barely means anything at all. But you’ve been in love with Tomura a lot longer than you’ve wanted to admit to, and you owe him the truth. “A while.”

You don’t have to specify much further than that. Tomura gets it. “Fuck,” he snarls, and Phantom startles, shies away. “Sorry. Sorry. No, don’t –”

“She just needs a second. Let her go.” You watch as Tomura loosens his grip. Phantom scrambles away, runs in a little circle, shakes so hard her ears flap, and comes cautiously back within reach. “I don’t understand. Why does it matter how long I’ve felt that way?”

“A month ago. That was my chance! If I’d known then – if you’d told me instead of – I would have –”

Tomura breaks off, and your chest tightens. “You wouldn’t have,” you say, but there’s a note of uncertainty in your voice. You don’t know that. You’ve fallen into the trap of thinking you know what’s going on in Tomura’s head before. “That’s not how it works. You have to want it –”

“More than anything else? Yeah.” Tomura’s jaw is clenched. He’s scratching hard at the side of his neck. “Except I didn’t want to change and find out you didn’t want me more.”

This is the fight you’ve been dreading. It’s almost a relief to get it out in the open at last. “Don’t pin this on me,” you say. “You weren’t sure before, but you’re sure now because I said three words?”

“They’re important!” Tomura snaps. “Everybody knows that. If I’d known you were sure about me –”

“That’s not what ‘I love you’ means,” you say. Tomura glares at you. “It means I’m serious about you. It means I don’t want anybody else. It means I see you in my future, and I like the fact that you’re there. But it’s not a sure thing. There’s no such thing as a sure thing.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, pressing the heels of your hands against them. “If you were waiting on me to say something so you could decide about being human, it must not have been what you really wanted.”

“You don’t know anything! The others were sure when they changed!”

“I don’t think they were,” you say slowly. “Aizawa was unconscious when Hizashi embodied himself. Spinner was barely conscious when Magne did it. Neither of them could have gotten an answer from their human. Himiko and Eri didn’t ask Jin and Shinsou if they could be their little sisters before they did it.”

“So?” Tomura’s voice is sharp and bitter.

“They didn’t have a sure thing,” you say. “They changed anyway. If being human was what you really wanted, it wouldn’t have mattered whether I loved you or not.”

“You don’t know anything,” Tomura says flatly. “It doesn’t matter now. This is how you’re stuck with me.”

“I’m not stuck,” you say. Tomura scoffs. “I’m not, Tomura. This didn’t happen because I’ve been hoping you’ll embody yourself permanently the whole time.”

“Then why?”

Why does anybody fall in love with anybody else? “I’ll answer that when you tell me why you let me stay here instead of scaring me off like everybody else.”

It’s quiet in your house. Phantom loses patience with the two of you and trots off into the living room, leaving you and Tomura to stare at each other from opposite ends of the front hall. You’re not going to try to answer his question, and he looks like he’s got no plans to answer yours, and contests to see which of you is more stubborn usually end with neither of you getting what you want. You edge a few inches backwards and lean against the door, posture open and legs loosely crossed. You know what this pose looks like to Tomura. It’s all the ground you’re willing to give, which means the ball is firmly in his court. All you can do is wait.

Tomura dematerializes, and your heart sinks – but then a rush of cold sweeps over you, and he settles into your lap like he always does. “You’re stuck with me like this.”

“I’m not stuck,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I haven’t been waiting for you to embody yourself. I guess neither of us know if we want that.”

Tomura rolls his eyes in response, you feel him relax slightly. “There are some things I know I do want,” you say. “I want to stay here with you. I want to call you whatever I have to call you so people stop questioning what you are to me. I want to introduce you to my parents –”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You don’t. You think I’ll act weird –”

“I’m counting on it,” you say, and Tomura gives you a surprised look. “If we’re weird enough to them, it’ll be a long time before they come back.”

Tomura laughs at that. You hear him laugh infrequently enough that it still makes you feel like you’ve won something. “I like it best when it’s just us,” you say. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, and he lets you do it. He’s fully relaxed now, which makes you feel sort of bad for what you’re about to say. “And I know I want us to have sex. Today. What do you think?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tomura says, because he’s an asshole. He twists in your arms and presses his lips against yours – lightly enough that he can talk, and so can you. “I’ve only been waiting for a week.”

His voice goes rough and raspy in a way that makes your skin crawl with anticipation, but it’s not like you haven’t been waiting, too. “We could have done it earlier, but you were too busy being mad that I had to leave.”

Tomura protests, but you kiss him again, and he stops talking in a hurry. You’ve spent a lot of time making out with Tomura by now, and you know what he likes. You know how to wind him up at lightspeed, which has the effect of winding you up at lightspeed, which is great when the two of you don’t have a lot of time on your hands. It’s not so great when you’re trying to have sex. But you’ve been thinking for a while about how to make this work. Step one involves making Tomura come.

Tomura catches on quickly, but not quickly enough. He’s already grinding against you, his cock already hard and straining the confines of his pants, his breathing harsh and unsteady in your ear when you bow your head to kiss his neck. “What are you –” he breaks off, struggling to form words. “Hey. If you – if you don’t stop –”

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask. “I will.”

“No,” Tomura says through gritted teeth. You slide one hand between the two of you, tracing the outline of his cock through his pants. “Hey! I thought we were supposed to –”

“Have sex?” You keep touching him, your stomach twisting with desire at the needy, desperate sound he makes. “We’re going to. I need you to come for me first.”

“Why?”

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask again. You draw back from kissing Tomura’s neck to look him in the eye and your stomach twists again, harder this time. He looks so pretty, his face flushed and his dilated eyes shrouded by too-long eyelashes, and he’s shaking his head. No, he doesn’t want you to stop. Good. “Then you’ll see soon.”

You kiss him. He’s squirming in your lap, hips rocking unevenly as he chases the scant friction provided by your hand, and your mind goes temporarily blank as you imagine your positions reversed, your legs hooked over his hips as he thrusts inside you. The thought distracts you to such a degree that Tomura notices – and because Tomura’s an asshole, he points it out. “Are you getting off on this?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” you respond. “You’re just too pretty.”

Tomura startles, and you say it again. Better yet, you elaborate on how hot it is that he wants you this much, how much you like his desperate squirming in your lap as he seeks release. It doesn’t take much. A few sentences, and a strangled sound escapes from Tomura’s mouth as he shudders, throws his head back. A damp patch blooms through the fabric of his pants. You yank him closer, pressing your mouth against his throat. “Stay here, Tomura. Stay with me.”

He mumbles your name, and you kiss him again. When he speaks up, he sounds a little more like himself. “Now what?”

“Now we go upstairs,” you say. “This next part will be better with the bed.”

Tomura’s a little shaky as he gets to his feet, and you hold his hand on the way up the stairs. He’s holding onto his physical form pretty well. You shoo him over to your bed, shut your bedroom door, and head into the bathroom to retrieve your still-unopened box of condoms. Tomura leans back on his hands and watches you through half-lidded eyes. “We need those?”

“Yes, we do,” you confirm. You set them down on the bedside table and start taking off your clothes, starting with your jeans.

You’ve been naked in front of Tomura before. Fully naked when you didn’t know he was there, partially when you did, but getting purposely, completely nude in front of him is something new. You lose your underwear next, and take your bra off without removing your shirt. When you glance over at Tomura to see how he’s taking this, you find that he’s taken off his shirt and is in the process of peeling off his pants. He glances down at himself, grimaces. “Why did I have to do this first?”

“So you’ll be less sensitive for this,” you say. You decide to leave your shirt on for now. “I want to make sure you last.”

“I can last as long as I need to.”

You remember the time the two of you tried edging – tried being the operative word – and wince. “Then it was just to make sure. Are you really going to complain about getting to go two rounds instead of one?”

This really isn’t a good time for Tomura to hit you with that dumbest-person-ever look, but he’s doing it anyway. “It’s not fair,” he says. If there’s something you’re supposed to understand about that sentiment, you don’t have a clue what it is. “What if you can’t last?”

You laugh before you can stop yourself. “Most women don’t come from just this kind of sex by itself. Me lasting isn’t going to be a problem.”

“That’s stupid. Why are we doing it if you’re not going to like it?”

“I’ll like it,” you say. Your face heats up just thinking about it, but Tomura doesn’t look convinced. “It’s complicated. Do you really want to talk about this right now?”

“No. I want to do this.” Tomura reaches over, grabs you by the hem of your shirt, and yanks you onto the bed. “If you won’t come from sex, you have to come from something else.”

Like always, Tomura’s got weird ideas about how sex is supposed to work. You try to tell him that, but he’s already pushing the hem of your shirt up to bare your breasts, scraping his thumb along the underside of one while his lips close around the opposite nipple. Your skin is tingling. One of Tomura’s legs slips between yours and your hips lift against it involuntarily. Tomura draws back, smirking. “You’re already so wet. I barely did anything. You like watching me that much?”

“Yes.” You had a better retort, but he’s fiddling with your other nipple now, and it’s hard to focus. “You watch me all the time. I don’t get to watch you?”

“Only when I want you to.”

Once the two of you are done here, you’re going to introduce Tomura to the concept of hypocrisy. The thought forms in your head, then slips away as Tomura pushes your legs apart and sprawls out between them. Cold air brushes over your clit as he exhales, followed a moment later by his tongue. A gasp sneaks out of your mouth. Tomura makes a pleased sound, parts your folds with his thumbs, and dives into eating you out in earnest.

In general, Tomura is about as good at teasing as he is at edging, which is to say he’s terrible at it. He likes being told he’s good at things, and no matter how much he makes fun of you for getting off on him, he gets off on you just as much. But he’s teasing you today, absolutely merciless with it, his mouth barely leaving your skin while the pressure of his tongue and lips remains unbearably light. You lift your hips, seeking more friction, and he pins you down and continues at the same steady, insufficient pace.

“Tomura,” you plead. You know he’s weak to hearing you say his name. “Please, Tomura. I need you. Please –”

“What?”

“More,” you whisper, and Tomura stops, because he’s an asshole. “Please. When do I ever make you beg?”

Tomura’s cheek is pressed against your thigh. His mouth is wet, and you feel his lips curve into a smile. “Say it.”

Your brain is so scrambled that it takes you a second to realize what he means. And once you do, you’re borderline appalled. “No.”

“Why not?” Tomura accents the question by sliding two fingers inside you, torturously slow. “You said it before.”

“Humans don’t say ‘I love you’ during sex,” you say. The slow motion of his fingers is driving you insane, half because you know what he can do with them if he wants to and half because you’re a few minutes away from having his cock inside you and you’ve been thinking about it for weeks. “Besides, why should I say it again? You never said you loved me.”

Tomura’s only response to that is to bury his face between your legs. It doesn’t worry you. It’s impossible to worry about anything other than whether he’ll stop, but even if you could, you wouldn’t be worried about this. You’ve never expected Tomura to feel the way a human would about things, or express how he feels in the type of words humans use. You’ve always been willing to take what you can get, and if what you can get is the full focus of his attention and enthusiasm on making you come so hard you see stars, that’s more than fine with you.

You sit up as soon as your head’s stopped spinning, only to immediately find yourself squirming away from Tomura, who’s more than ready for round two. You put a hand on his chest to hold him back. “Condom first.”

It’s been a while since you had to deal with a condom, but it’s not the kind of thing you forget about. You decide it’ll be easier to do it yourself than to try to talk Tomura through it. You pry open the box, noting as you do that the collective expiration date is sooner than you thought it was, and get to work, trying not to think about the fact that you’ve had an unopened box of condoms in your possession long enough for it to practically expire. Tomura seems on board with the condom situation until you try to put it on him, at which point he makes a face. “I thought you had to wear it.”

“No, this time you do.” You haven’t been on birth control since your last relationship, but you’ll make an appointment with the doctor tomorrow and get back on it. If nothing else, you can be confident that Tomura’s not going to give you an STD. “Just to be safe.”

“Fine,” Tomura says, rolling his eyes. You shove at him until he sits back and leans against the headboard. “Hurry up.”

You were never uncertain about whether making Tomura come at least once before trying to have sex was a good idea, but now you’re convinced – even after that, he’s sensitive enough that putting on the condom makes him twitch and moan. For your part, you’re reminded all over again just how big he is, and you feel a sharp twinge of nerves. You shove it away. You’re not a virgin. You can handle this. This is why you decided to be on top.

You straddle Tomura carefully, leaning down for a kiss to settle your nerves. He’s enthusiastic as always, and it’s a struggle to pull away long enough to speak. “We’ll go slow at first. If one of us needs to take a break, we can.”

“A break?” Tomura’s eyes are dilated. His hands slide up beneath your shirt. Either they’re not as cold as they used to be or you’re getting used to them. “Why?”

“To compose ourselves so we don’t finish too soon.” You’re being very charitable in describing it as a “we” thing. “Or so I can adjust.”

You’re hoping Tomura won’t ask what you need to adjust to, and to remove the possibility entirely, you position yourself appropriately and start to sink down on his cock. It should be easy. You’re wet. You’ve already come once. You’re not a virgin. But Tomura’s easily the biggest you’ve ever slept with, and it’s been a while. The stretch is bordering on painful. More than bordering on it. Your eyes are watering.

Tomura sucks in a breath, eyes squeezed shut. One hand grabs a fistful of the pillows on the bed. The other seizes your hip like a lifeline, hard enough to leave ghost marks and real bruises. The pressure on your hip distracts you slightly from the pressure between your legs, and you sink down a little further, a whimper escaping from your mouth. Tomura’s eyes fly open at the sound. He shifts beneath you, and the sudden motion combined with your weak efforts to relax allow you to settle down the rest of the way, your body flush with his and his cock seated fully inside you.

You can feel your muscles straining, struggling to adjust. Tomura’s hold on your hip tightens even further. “Don’t move,” he hisses. You’ve got no intention of it. “I can’t – I want –”

“What?” You set your hands on his shoulders and cling desperately. You want to bury your face in his shoulder, but you’d have to lean forward, and you’re supposed to be riding him. You picked this position. You have to make it work, and the longer you have to adjust, the more accustomed you get to the pressure building up inside you. You need to hold still. You feel like you’ll split apart if you move. And at the same time you’re starting to feel – good. “Tomura?”

He shakes his head, jaw clenched. The hand on your hip loosens and slides down to cup the curve of your ass, shifting you forward and upwards ever so slightly. Even that slight change in position electrifies you. You gasp, and Tomura presses on your hip to shift you back to the same position as before. Then his hand slides to your ass again, and you figure out what he’s doing. You figure out what you’re doing, too. You take the motion Tomura outlined and shift slowly through it, at your own pace and under your own power.

The stretch of Tomura’s cock is easier to work through now that you know how to make it feel good. Each movement is still enough to drive the air out of your lungs, and your face heats up with a flush that spreads down your throat until your entire body feels hot and slick with sweat. Tomura’s flushed, too. He moves unsteadily beneath you with uneven jerks of his hips, trying to match your rhythm but either too inexperienced or too undone to manage it properly. The hand not grasping your hip slides beneath your shirt, along your back, fingernails sinking in. Nobody’s ever done that to you before. It’s really hot.

Tomura’s usually noisy when the two of you hook up – noisy, but never talkative unless you’re teasing him. At first you think this will be like that, and at first it is. The desperate noises escaping from his parted lips are as familiar as they are intoxicating, and your body tenses with desire in response. Tomura’s head falls back against the headboard, his chest heaving. And then, to your shock, he opens his mouth and speaks.

“You feel good,” he says, his voice raspier than you’ve ever heard it. “So good. So tight and hot and wet. You want this. Say you want it. Say you want me.”

You forgot about this part of sex, the part where anything feels reasonable if it keeps him inside you and keeps that almost-unbearable tension building through your body, radiating from the inside out. “I want you.”

“Say it again.” Tomura’s crimson eyes open, focus on yours. The intensity of his gaze and the sensation of his nails digging into your back and the feeling of his slow, almost experimental thrusts is almost too much. You’re not sure you can talk. “Say you want me like I want you. I wanted you before I knew how to want things. You feel so good. Fuck –”

You don’t have a praise kink like Tomura does, but you’ve never been immune to the sound of his voice. “I want you,” you say again. “So much, Tomura. I – ah –”

He’s moving faster now, not matching your pace so much as setting your own. You need that. You didn’t know how much you needed it until Tomura seized control, but for the first time in a long time, you’re completely at his mercy, letting him take the lead without direction or argument. You like the role you play in your relationship, and you wouldn’t want it to be different, but every so often it feels good to go along for the ride.

But it’s not a ride anymore. Tomura rolls the two of you over, pinning you beneath him. His cock slips out of you as you change position, and when you reach down to help him guide it back into place, you register something odd about the slickness of the condom. Any thought about it at all exits your mind as Tomura thrusts back into you. You hook your legs over his hips, gasping at the change in angle. “I want you,” you say again, and Tomura shudders, swears. “I want you, Tomura. I need you. Tomura, please. Please –”

You can feel him trying to control himself, trying to outlast you, and you’re about to tell him not to – except you don’t have to tell him, because the pressure building within you lasts for exactly three more thrusts before it snaps. You’ve never come just from something inside you before, but there’s a first time for everything, and you note through the haze that it makes a certain kind of sense. Tomura’s not like anyone you’ve met before, let alone slept with. Of course you’d come from just his cock.

Your back arches, your legs locking tighter around Tomura’s narrow hips, and although your vision is blurry, you can see him staring down at you, his hair falling around his face, his eyes dilated and his mouth open and panting. Your muscles clench tight around his cock and his jaw drops, the filthiest moan you’ve ever heard drifting through his cracked, parted lips. His hips jerk in the frantic thrusts that mean he’s close, the ones you remember from the times you’ve used your hands or your mouth, the times he’s rubbed himself to orgasm against your leg, your hip, your ass. What he says is familiar, too. “Tell me again. Tell me –”

“I love you,” you say. You’re his first – first handhold, first orgasm, first kiss, everything. If you have it your way, you’ll be his only. “You’re mine.”

Tomura comes, his body shaking, his eyelids fluttering. He’s so pretty. You tell him that and feel his hips twitch weakly again. Sometime – next time, maybe – you’d like to roll the two of you over and ride him to overstimulation, until he’s a sweaty, sticky, shuddering mess beneath you. That kind of thing will be easier once you’ve got birth control worked out. Right now there’s a condom to deal with.

Tomura’s physical form is fading fast, but he still manages to pull out, and he’s the one who alerts you that there’s a problem. “It broke.”

You slide one hand down between your legs and find that the condom is one hundred percent broken – and your fingers come away covered in some mix of your own wetness and Tomura’s cum when you dip them inside yourself to check. Tomura’s faded almost completely, but you can feel him watching, and feel his anxiety, too. There’s something endearingly human about it. Ordinarily you’d be unhappy, too, but you find yourself oddly calm. “It’s fine.”

“It’s fine?”

“Yeah. Not ideal, but I’ll pick up the morning-after pill on my way to work tomorrow.” You’ve never used it before, but you had friends who did, and while it’s expensive, it seems relatively low-impact. “I’m not worried about it.”

It’s quiet for a second. “So we can do it again.”

“Yes,” you say. “Not right now. I don’t think either of us has the energy for that.”

“I had to use some of your plants.” Tomura sounds guilty. “The – what do you call them. The ones that die every year.”

“Annuals. It’s okay.” It’s late October. They were dying anyway. “I’m glad you did.”

You don’t plant very many annuals. You wish you’d planted more – enough to give Tomura the energy to stay with you, so you won’t have to fall asleep alone tonight.  But at least you’ll fall asleep amidst the evidence of everything you do have, instead of thinking about the one thing you don’t.

You get up from the bed on absurdly shaky legs and dispose of the condom in the bathroom trash, then set about cleaning up. You can’t clean up all the way, courtesy of the condom fiasco – according to your college friends, who definitely had more adventurous sex lives than you did, cum leaks out at its own pace. You and Tomura didn’t bother getting under the covers, so you peel off the duvet and swap it out for a quilt from the closet. Then you start getting dressed.

You have to undress the rest of the way in order to put on clean clothes. You’ve just taken off your shirt when a cold hand lands on your back, scaring the hell out of you. You twist around, looking for Tomura, but he’s not materialized, and his hand lands on your back again. “What are these?”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s referring to. “The scratches? You did those. When I was on top.”

“They hurt.”

You shrug. The soon-to-be bruises on your hips hurt more, and you’re sorer than expected, courtesy of Tomura’s size and his enthusiasm towards the end. “It’s fine.”

“You’re really calm,” Tomura says suspiciously. “Why?”

You were thinking about putting on real clothes. You change your mind and get into your pajamas instead. “Sex is always sort of weird. I was expecting that. But sex for humans releases all kinds of stuff in our brains that makes us feel good, even if it’s not the best sex ever. And this was really good. So I feel calm. How do you feel?”

Tomura doesn’t answer. You open the door to your room in case Phantom wants in, then get into bed and curl up tight. The cold settles in around you a few moments later, and you hear Tomura’s voice in your ear. “I thought humans weren’t supposed to say I love you during sex.”

“Sometimes humans don’t do what we’re supposed to do,” you say. Tomura snorts. “It’s usually sort of a mood killer.”

“I liked it.” For a moment, Tomura’s physical presence feels real. You feel the weight of his arm draped over you, the solidity of his body curled around yours – and then he’s gone. “I love you.”

You didn’t need to hear him say it. You knew how he felt about you. But it’s nice to hear it anyway. You fall asleep fast, with a smile on your face.

Confession booth.

SHIGARAKI >:D!!!! Red tinted :D!!

If you can show your appreciation somehow, please do!!! (if you use)

Sanctuary of Nightmares PT6

Platonic SB x Child Reader

Chapter Selection

Previous / Next

You were about to attempt to run away when you felt the grip of his hands encase you, causing an immideate struggle. You squirmed, kicked, punched, anything you could do to remove yourself from the sudden grip of the iron giant. You were far too blinded by your fear to even listen to him as he swiftly began walking, the clicks of not only his feet but other animatronics filling the air. There were faint words that made it to you. Such as 'calm down' and 'I'm not going to hurt you'. You didn't believe that of course. Especially as his hands pressed into the bruises on the side of your body creating a spike of pain as you moved. It was a while after this struggle when he finally set you down, your body leaving him as soon as he let you go. You attempted to run only to find that you were in some sort of small enclosed space you could faintly tell was an elevator. Absolute terror ran through your system as you turmed to stare up at the huge bear.

You had never expected these things to be so enormous.

You quickly pushed yourself into a corner, trying to keep your distance from him. He attempted to take a step closer but seemed to stop when that action earned a terrified squeak along with you crumbling to the ground in an attempt to get smaller, your head tucked in your knees as if what you couldn't see wouldn't hurt you.

These characters had been your sanctuary, your safe haven. They were the thoughts your mind wandered to when hoping for better things.

You could not have imagined them being this terrifing.

Each metallic and robotic sound only further increased your fear, the source of the noise unseen by you. Eventually you heard no sound at all, your body waiting for an attack.

"Please, please calm down. I swear I will not harm you I-"

"Let me handle this Freddy. I think I can help" a boy's voice suddenly cut off the animatronic, the sound too human to belong to any bot. Yet in your panic, you couldn't have known the difference. All you knew was that you wanted to leave, to get out of here! You wanted home, you wanted normal. None of this can be real, it can't be real it can't-

"Hey...can you hear me?" The voice spoke again, this time closer to you. It was cautious with a clear child-like quality held in it.

It was then that you listened, your racing mind slamming to a halt at the strangeness of hearing anything human. Your quiet sobbing slowed, your head slowly rising only to come face to face with a boy, one similar to who you'd seen earlier.

The emotional whiplash that came from your mind slowly registering that the boy was real was enough to allow your body to subconsciously catch its breath as your mind focused on him.

Once you were looking at him, your rivers of tears slowly stopping, he managed to give a faint smile. It wasn't a very convincing one, in fact he had absolutely no idea what he was doing or how he had stopped your panic. He had only volunteered to try because he was less threatening than the seemingly ten-foot bear.

"I-I'm...Gregory...this is Freddy. He's safe. He's one of the good guys!" The brown-haired boy who you now knew as Gregory explained, his voice switching between nervous and confident faster than you could think to react to it. Freddy gave a small wave when mentioned, though he kept his movement to a minimum as to not further scare you.

Despite his animatronic body not allowing for much expression, he stood almost anxiously, his eyes not diverting from you. His drooped ears helped to further show his own distress, though it was clear that he didn't entirely know how to help a child who was scared of him.

You looked between the two, debating your situation for a moment.

The last animatronic you thought was safe had terrified the living daylights out of you, not to mention attacked this kid. So you were a bit skeptical about the boy's words along with the bot behind him. But, dispite your continued apprehension, you felt a little inclined to believe the boy. He seemed to know a little more than you with his abilities to outmaneuver Moon and having been able to get close to the huge bear, not to mention that he was older than you. If there was anyone who you'd hope to help you in your current situation it would be an older human.

Before you could continue to process your current situation a loud sound startled you back into a defensive postion, your arms wrapped around your legs as they were pulled against your chest. Freddy, not wanting you to regress after Gregory had managed to calm you a little, was quick to address the noise.

"Do not worry! That was just the doors opening! It is nothing to be afraid of! Look" he spoke up before moving to touch the open doors as if to further show their safety.

"See! No danger! You are safe!" Freddy almost enthusiastically replied, his face holding what you assumed was a smile as if he was genuinely proud of partaking in the conversation.

You weren't sure what it was about his over-the-top display, but you found it rather funny to watch the massive bear that had seemed so terrifying only seconds before, move to show you just how safe a door was. The genuine way in which he did so also helped with the comedy of it. So, in spite of yourself, a small laugh escaped your lips, heavily contrasting with your tear-stained face. You quickly tried to muffle it though, afraid you might upset the bear.

The small laugh allowed Freddy to somewhat relax, his stiff posture loosening now that you were calming down a little bit.

Feeling the tense air alleviate slightly Gregory decided to but in again. After all, he wanted to get out of here and he wasn't going to do that of you all were just standing aroun.

"Uh look uh I know we just kinda met but we've gotta get out of here. The robots in this place have gone crazy and the security guard isn't gonna help us. Freddy says there are two ways we can go so I was gonna go to the fire escape. There probably aren't as many security doors there." Gregory explained before outstretching a hand towards you, offering to help you up.

"It's probably safer if you stick with us"

You stared at his hand for a moment, unsure if you should accept the gesture. It didn't take long for you to realize you didn't want to be alone in this place and take his hand. He pulled you up but didn't let go of your hand once you stood and neither did you with his. It seemed that you both were gaining some comfort in each other.

"I will guide you in the direction of the exit, though I will not be able to help you most of the way. It is probably best if you get a map" Freddy explained as he took a few steps out of the elevator. The two of you followed suit, though Gregory held a bit more conviction in his step than you.

"Well, then where do we-" his sentence was cut short by a blaring sound, one that greatly startled both you and him. You pulled him a little closer, afraid that if he went too far you'd lose him.

"Free map"

An automated sound spoke as it outstretched a map to the two of you. You both stood in shock for a moment, the sudden dip in precived danger greatly confusing the both of you. Slowly the shock left and Gregory grabbed the two maps. It was only after doing so that the bot turned away and an annoyed look grew on Gregory's face. With a grip still tightly held onto your hand, he turned away from the bot and handed you the extra map. You took it with a slightly shaking hand, a fact that you tried to hide He seemed more easily able to get over his shock than you so you were trying to stay calm, not wanting to upset him with feeings of fear that he wasn't experiencing.

He stared at you for an extra moment, his annoyed look softening as you took the paper. He took a deep breath, loosening his grip on your hand a little before he turned back to Freddy.

"Do you have another Fazwatch?" He asked the metal bear only for Freddy to shake his head.

"They are not meant to be given out often. You have my last one" Freddy explained, his own disappointment shown once again in his lowered ears. Gregory gave a simple nod in response before turning back to you.

"Then you just have to stay close okay? We're gonna get out of here together" Gregory spoke with confidence and a warning which you took very seriously. You gave a nod, showing that you understood.

"Okay, let's get moving"

The three of you started off on your escape. You picked up rather quickly on what to do as the two avoided the moving security bots, remaining as quiet as they could. Remembering to earlier when you had run into one of these bots you soon understood their purpose and the great necessity to keep away.

They were alarms. And with alarms came people, or more terrifyingly robots, looking to catch whatever had set them off.

However, there was no sign of whoever was supposed to be listening for that alarm nearby, so there was a bit of leeway on the volume level the three of you could produce

"What is your name?" Freddy asked as he tilted his head down ever so slightly to look at you. You stared for a moment, his giant size still ringing a few alarm bells. You tried to gauge the intention behind the question through Gregory, though he seemed mostly focused on walking rather than talking. So, not sure of what to do, you kept silent, your apprehension clear but your fear not as prevalent. Freddy's ears fell again, his eyes showing his sadness in how you didn't answer.

After a bout of silence, Gregory turned to you, slight confusion written on his face.

"Aren't you gonna tell him?" He asked, unable to see why you wouldn't. You quickly averted your eyes from Gregory, feeling the burn of words in your chest.

You never really spoke much. You'd been a quiet kid even before the world had beaten silence into you, so speaking didn't come very well to you. Most times you find it better to just keep your mouth shut.

However, in the presence of two sets of searing curious eyes, you felt entirely uncomfortable and a little cautious. You didn't want to upset them. After all, you didn't really know these two or their tempers. All you knew was that they were helping you, but that could always change.

So, even if you would have preferred not to say anything, you spoke.

"Y/n" you finally answered. Your voice was a soft sound, reminiscent of a whisper in the wind as it somehow reached their ears despite its incredibly low volume.

"What a great name. It is nice to meet you Y/n" Freddy spoke, his voice lowered into just above an actual whisper almost as if he was trying to match your voice but was unable to go lower than a certain point. You kept your eyes averted, hoping he'd just let everything fall back into silence. Luckily it did.

It wasn't very long until the three of you stopped in front of a place Freddy mentioned to be El Chip's. It was only once you and Gregory stood close enough for the door to slightly open that Freddy finally turned to get a better look at you, his eyes scanning, hoping for some type of profile.

He didn't get one, but what he did notice were your injuries. They were wrapped, likely because of his good friend Sun, but they wouldn't stay that way for very long, especially with you moving around so much.

"Gregory, I would like to raise a concern. I can not guarantee that this exit will be open and, while you may be equipped to deal with the consequences if that is so, I'm worried the Y/n may not be able to. Perhaps it's better if they stay with me until you are sure there is an exit" Freddy's voice stayed at the low volume it had been at earlier though it was now twisted in concern. Gregory turned between Freddy and you with a perplexed look, seemingly not understanding Freddy's words.

"What do you mean? They look fine to me!" Gregory responded, his tone almost sharp as he spoke. You felt his hand grip tighter onto yours only for you to wince and pull away from his grip, a shock of pain burning through you. He turned back to you with confusion that quickly turned to realization.

"Oh..." Was all he could say as he seemed to finally notice your bandages. His shock only held for a moment before you saw his face twist in slight anger, his mind spinning with possibilities.

How had this happened? No no, he knew why. Those horrifying bots! They hurt you! And it seemed pretty badly too, especially as he began to notice the other wrapped injuries. God how he hated these things! You were younger than he was! How could they do that to a little kid!? It's one thing to go after him. He's been on the street since he was six, but someone so sensitive? So small? At this point he wouldn't be surprised if they killed babies!

And it was that hatred, that growing seething hatred he had for those bots and what he'd perceived they'd done to you that caused his stubborn mind to begin to build with spite.

"That's even more reason they should stay with me! The faster we both get out the better" Gregory countered, his voice rising in intensity as he turned back to Freddy. Freddy was about to protest Gregory's decision but, upon seeing the seriousness in his eyes, decided better of it. He simply sighed, kneeling down as his eyes flickered between the both of you, apprehension found in the few features that could express emotion.

"I must warn the both of you: when you enter an area where you do not have a locator map signal, I will be unable to reach you. You can update your map at the security office. It is also best to locate any good hiding spots. The daycare attendant should have been released a few minutes ago and it is not safe to be roaming when he is around. Be safe..." Freddy cautioned, his voice anxiety latent. Gregory gave a firm nod, gently grasping your hand again before crouching under the door and into what was hopefully your path out of this place.

And to think just earlier today you had wanted nothing more than to be here...

- x -

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