Day 1: Succubus Reader X Virgin College Shigaraki

A new life for Tomura part6

Hiii ^^ can i ask you something ? A yandere shigaraki who kidnapped is darling aka is favorite streamer ? So a YandereShigarakixfem reader pls^^ have a good day/night💗✨

Omg, I'm finally done! Thanks for the ask :). Sorry but the kidnapping part didn't make it in the story but other than that I tried my best to write what you wanted. I hope you like it 💝. (This is one of my more fucked up stories)

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Your Biggest Fan

Warning: Smut-ish, Hints at noncon, Male masturbation, Obsessive behavior, Tracking, Breaking and entering, Language.

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"PLAYER TWO WINS!"

Tomura scuffed at the words on his screen. He had never lost this many times in all his years of gaming. It was absolutely embarrassing. Especially when it was to a cheat like you. You had to have been cheating. You innocently joined his game saying,

"I've never played this before. Sorry if I'm bad." And you were. You were terrible, awful. He kicked your ass so many times. Game, after game, after game, after game... You would whine and beg for him to let you win or at the very least, go easy on you. And he would simply smile and promise to go easy on you, just to beat the shit out of you anyway. Then it changed. Suddenly, you got the upper hand. He had turned on autopilot at that point so he was completely caught off guard by your sudden increase of skill. For the first time, he lost to you. In the beginning, he was too shocked to be mad. Then, it kept happening. After that day, he couldn't seem to get even a single win. It was beyond embarrassing.

StarPlayer06: "Looks like I win again."

Villain_King444: "You got lucky."

StarPlayer06: "Three times in a row?"

Tomura gritted his teeth.

StarPlayer06: "You should watch my streams. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two."

Streams? Tomura had known you for a few months now but he never really had conversations with you about things that weren't video games. Maybe you'd talk about your job or your friends but that was it. However, he was curious. What did you talk about? Was he on those streams? But most of all, what did you look like...? He shook the thought away. Your "streams" were probably just you acting all slutty to get a bunch of old men to give you money.

Villain_King444: "Not on your life."

StarPlayer 06: "Come on, don't be like that!"

Tomura rolled his eyes.

StarPlayer06: "If you change your mind, here's the link. I'd love to see you there ;)."

Villain_King444: "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm logging off."

StarPlayer06: "Aww. Goodnight :(."

Tomura leaned back in his chair, thinking. He knew he should just go to sleep. He knew he should just forget about it and go on with his life. He knew he had more important things to do. And yet. He sat up and pulled up your account. At first glance, it looked exactly how he thought it would. You had a cutesy username and a similarly cute profile picture and banner. Tomura brushed passed your home page and clicked on your most recent stream. It loaded for a minute before he could hear your soft voice in his headset. His eyes grew wide as your face filled his vision. You were beautiful. You looked totally different from what he had imagined. A light blush spread across his face as you introduced yourself and what game you were about to play. It was some horror game but it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered. Nothing but you.

Hours had gone by and he was still there watching video, after video. How could such a darling girl like you be right in front of his face the whole time without him even knowing? It felt like his whole world got turned upside down. He didn't even realize just how deep he was in your rabbit hole of content until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Tomura jolted up, swiveling around in his chair just to be met with a familiar face.

"Tomura Shigaraki, I'm sorry to disturb you but I brought you breakfast. If you're hungry that is." It was Kurogiri. Tomura sighed as he paused the video and pulled off his headset.

"Yeah... Yeah. I'll eat it." He replied, dazed.

"Are you okay, Tomura?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Now get out. I'm busy."

Kurogiri narrowed his eyes but backed down, exiting the room. The door closed with a click and as if on command, Tomura slumped down in his chair. What the hell was that? You were just some girl. That's all you were. Beautiful. But just some chick on the internet. Tomura looked down at the clock on his screen. 9:30am. He scoffed, as he stood up and headed to the bathroom. He needed a shower.

As the day went on, Tomura couldn't stop thinking about you. He wanted to but you plagued his mind like a virus. Your words were stuck in his head like a song. He wanted to keep watching. He needed to keep watching. To see your face, to hear your voice. He hated himself for it but as soon as he returned to his room, he sat down at his desk and pulled up your account once more. Turns out, you were live right then and there. He joined the stream and was instantly hit with a feeling a pleasure. Your sweet voice was all he could hear as he watched you. You had a habit of chatting before actually playing a game; you'd just sit and talk with your audience. Tomura could see how you very obviously skipped the weird messages you received, instead responding to more wholesome things like,

"How are you feeling today?"

"Did you see what happened on the news last night!? Scary!"

"When are you gonna play Trails of Odyssey?"

Your comments always seemed to look like this. It was boring. You had started talking about this new chair you wanted, so Tomura decided to leave a little message of his own.

User5141: [User 5141 donated $200] "Is this enough for it, beautiful?"

He watched as you froze at the amount of money presented to you. A devilish grin formed on his lips as he awaited your response.

"Oh my... Thank you. You really didn't have to do that! It's like four hundred dollars anyway. It's more like a dream chair then something I'm actually aiming for."

You laughed at the end, trying to lighten the situation.

User5141: [User5141 donated $200] "Well then this should be enough. Don't worry about me. You deserve it."

Your eyes widened as you put a hand over your mouth.

"Thank you so much!"

Your reply was muffled by your hands but the look of happiness on your face said all he needed to hear. The comment section was practically bursting with things to say about him. It ranged from calling him a show off to complimenting his generosity. But Tomura didn't really care, the only thing he cared about was you. And you were ecstatic. The fact that he made you happy gave him shivers. If you wanted to be taken care of the only thing you had to do was ask. He was more than willing to pamper such a darling girl. A tightness grew in his pants as he continued to watch you. It was finally time to start the game but now Tomura had more important things to take care of. A wave of relief washed over him as he unzipped his pants. This was gonna be a long night.

Day after day, this became a habit.

"[User5141 donated $200]"

"[User5141 donated $300]"

"[User5141 donated $500]"

Tomura couldn't help it. 700, 800, 900. The high he got just felt too good. 1,000, 2,000. At this rate he was paying your rent. 5,000. Drool fell from his mouth as he watched your face distort in horror. He bucked his hips into his hand once again.

"I... Umm... Thank y-you. It's very appreciated but... I don't wanna be rude but don't you have a life too?"

You gulped, then faked a smile.

User5141: "You are my life."

Your smile wavered but still stood.

"You're so sweet."

Tomura's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he came all over his hand. He loved this. He loved you. But he especially loved how naive you were. The day before, you actually came to him about this "mystery donor." It was exhilarating to know he had such an impression on you. Now maybe you thought about him just as much as he thought about you.

StarPlayer06: "They sent me 2,000 dollars yesterday. It's not like I'm complaining but it's starting to get creepy."

Villain_King444: "Well, they must really like you."

StarPlayer06: "Who's crazy enough to pay someone they don't even know 2,000 dollars!?"

Villain_King444: "Don't bite the hand that feeds you. Literally."

StarPlayer06: ">:( For the record, I feed myself. I appreciate them but I don't need their help."

Villain_King444: "Then what are you gonna do with the money?"

StarPlayer06: "Idk but I've been eating out a lot more."

Villain_King444: "Lucky girl."

StarPlayer06: "Ikr."

Tomura relished in the feeling you gave him. Such a naive girl... However, he still wasn't satisfied. He wanted you to need him. To rely on him and him alone. That's why today he raised the bar. 5,000. But maybe that wasn't enough. 8,000. How would you respond to that? He bit his lip in anticipation, stroking himself another time. He was in heaven.

The next month went by just like that. Him watching your streams, donating ungodly amounts of money, then you two having a conversation about it later. Tomura had no complaints about his life; as long as he could watch you, he was happy. Or at least that's what he thought. He quickly started to realize that wasn't the case. On some days you decide to cut out gaming entirely and just talk. He loved those streams. In this one in particular you wanted to show everyone the outfit you just bought. The outfit you bought with his money. You stood up and there it was. You looked stunning. Tomura wanted to reach out and grab you, yank you, pull you, wreck you. But you were on the other side of the screen.

Another time, you had a guest over. He was a tall, young looking man, probably the same age as you. The chat went crazy when he showed up, saying all sorts of dumb things like,

"Is he your boyfriend!?"

"You two look so cute together!"

"I wish I was him."

Tomura hated it. He wanted to reach through the screen and wring his neck. You continued to tell your audience that he was just a friend but Tomura wasn't buying it. How could he know for sure unless he was there? Unless he was there... The idea shot into his mind like a bullet. Why couldn't he be there? Why couldn't he be the one you talked to everyday? That you invited onto your streams? That your horny viewers envied? You two were made for each other and it was time to stop pretending like you weren't. If you didn't need him now, he was gonna make you need him. Tomura smiled as he dropped his final donation on your stream.

User5141: [User5141 donated $1] "See you soon."

Tomura had always been a good hacker. That's why when it came to finding people for the league, he was the guy. As long as they had a device, he could find them. The fact that you were already live made this child's play. He had your location within minutes. You lived in the city right next to him. Not even out of state... Not that it would have mattered. He would have found some way to fly out there. But with this, he only needed to take a train.

It was 8:00pm and you just finished your stream for the day. You sighed, stood up from your chair, and walked to bed. You grabbed your phone and simply laid on your back above the covers. You were too tired to do anything but lay there. Your eye lids were heavy and no matter how much you blinked, the feeling of exhaustion didn't go away. You sighed as you put your phone back in its place. Your body decided more than your mind to just stare at the ceiling and let sleep wash over you. There was a subtle creak that came from your closet but it fit right in with all the other noises of the night, causing your brain to filter it out. Big mistake... The wind got harshly knocked out of you as something heavy sat on your stomach. Your eyes shot open and there was a person.

"I've been waiting so long for this moment..."

You screamed and tried to sit up just to be harshly pushed down again.

"Is that any way to treat a fan?"

They had a tight grip on your arms pinning them to your sides. The pain from their nails digging into your skin kept you quiet.

"Oh you're absolutely lovely... How did I get so lucky with you?"

You stared at them, your features all scrunched up in fear. They tilted their head.

"What's with that look? Don't you know who I am?"

"N-No." You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Does Villain King ring any bells?"

Your eyes widened.

"Oh and... Your highest donor..."

Your blood ran cold. It was him the whole time. Then he was even crazy enough to track you down and break into your home.

"Why...?" Was all you could mange to ask.

"I thought that would be obvious. It's because I love you."

"Love me? H-How could you possibly love me!?" You asked, anger and sadness swelling in your throat and coating your words.

"How could I not!? You're nice, caring, funny. You have the body of a goddess and the voice of an angel. You're the most perfect person I've ever met."

You swallowed hard as his words hit your ears. Slowly the moon peeked through the window illuminating the room and your intruder. His face was scarred and wrinkled with a little birth mark below his lips. His crimson eyes pierced your soul, giving you shivers. He looked at you like prey. The lamb. And the wolf.

A groan escaped his lips, breaking your trance.

"You turn me on so much, you know...?" He said, letting one of your arms go to lift his hoodie. Sweat rolled down your face as you watched him unbutton his pants. You quickly looked back up at him just to see him smiling like a maniac. Your eyes darted from his face to his bulge over and over. You couldn't believe this was happening. In a moment of pure adrenaline you used your free hand to try and push him away. You squirmed and kicked. Pushed and hit. But to no avail. He didn't even seem phased by it, just grabbing your arm once more. Tears started to roll down your face as you looked up at him.

"Shhh..." He cooed.

"Don't worry. I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't want me to stop."

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Thanks!you anwser so fast too like damn!✨✋

Hiii i just discover your account it's so cool ! What about shigaraki with a darling that litteraly worship him ? 🧐

Have a nice day/night✨🛐

TOMURA/READER WHO WORSHIPS HIM HC!

A/N: gulps nervously in my tomura collection worth $1k+.. what..worship this guy? hah, never heard of it

(cough sidenote: utahime/urame whatever her name is and sukuna or xielian and huacheng...)

WARNINGS: nsfw under the cut! ooc tomura?, subby-ish tomura

oh my god this boy is sweating, confused, scared, angry.

he's sweating because he's shocked and nervous! how would he even react to someone holding him in their arms and whispering praises into his ear?

he's confused, where did this come from? why does he deserve this? are you serious or are you being sarcastic?

he's scared because there's an odd feeling in his chest that hurts yet feels so good, it outweighs the feeling of hatred that burns so deep within him.

he's angry because he thinks your a spy or is playing a cruel joke on him, that one day this will all just stop or your just using him to your own gain.

you have to try and try for weeks on end to show that your not going anywhere and that you genuinely worship him for who he is.

once he settles in and realizes your treating him like some sort of god, or how people idolize and admire stain/all might with genuine love in your heart he short circuits for awhile.

he lays in your arms quietly as he feels you kiss around his body and tell him that he did such a good job, how handsome he is, how much you love him, how much you care and how much all you wanna do to him is..take care of him.

he'll try and push you off and say something along the lines of 'you're being annoying/stupid, cut it out' or he'll say something cocky, 'you really see me as a god or something, huh? that sounds about right for a king like me.'

once it genuinely sinks into all of him that your being real and not playing with him, it all goes to his head and his dick he becomes more cocky but whenever a plan fails he falls so much harder than he would've if you weren't around.

he loves your kisses and will sulk if you don't give him atleast 5 per 10 minutes like you usually do.

cup his face and shower him with kisses, praise, tell him how handsome he is as your cuteness aggression kicks in and you squeeze his cheeks like they're your life line.

head? blank. mind? off.

even though he becomes more cocky/egotistical, he still short circuits and shuts down for a moment because..what?

he doesn't know what he did to deserve you (besides being a gross ugly gamer boy who should go eat a cup noodle) but he definitely thinks it's because all his hardwork and dedication to master got you by his side.

please be patient with him, if he ever sees you upset with him he might actually go insane.

NSFW under the cut!

he loves getting a handjob from you while he suckles on your chest and you whisper sweet things,

he cums so fast when you hug him from behind, one hand stroking his cock and the other playing with his nipples and stroking his chest while you whisper praise into his ear and leave hickeys on his scarred neck or shoulders.

when you praise him, sometimes it just immediately gets him erect, even if you didn't say anything inherently sexual.

he will watch with eyes blown wide or barely open (depends on how long you've been going) as you suck his cock and treat him with utmost care.

yes he is a pillow prince.

he loves it when you treat him like a valuable jewel that could shatter at the slightest touch, your gentle squeezes, your slow and tender kisses, your praise, it all swirls in his head and makes him cum, even if it's just foreplay.

he loves the aftercare, when he's laying down on his stomach and a pillow on his chest as you carefully use wipes to clean his cock, makes him hard all over again.

the aftercare where you shower with him? now he's not sure, he'll say he can bathe himself yet the soft moans he lets out whenever you lather soap on his body or dig your fingers into his hair says he would rather have you bathe him.

cuddles, cuddles please. he needs that.

atleast an hour or 30 minutes of you cuddling him, petting him and telling him how good he did for you, he will sulk if he doesn't get this.

when he's the one mostly in control he's so rough and mean, well..as rough as a lanky twink can get.

he loves watching you cry for him or having you tell him how good you feel, goes straight to his cock.

tell him to go harder, faster, deeper or tell him you're about to cum quick, he loves it, he loves it all.

when your giving him oral, he will just straight up hump/facefuck you, he loves the adoring look in your eyes, it makes him so hard.

—Ake 2024

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.

Narilamb

Narinder asking the lamb for flowers but when he bring them proceding to refuse them because he didn't really expected him to find them(and risk his life while doing so) and because he think it make him "weak" but he secretly love the fact that he did even if he act all angry like a tsundere

Switched au part 15

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Shigaraki With a Crush on Fem!Reader

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

Notes/Warnings: 18+ themes but no smut, Fem-Reader, White-Haired Shigaraki w/ Long hair (he's 21 in this fic), alcohol use but no one gets drunk, other members of the League make an appearance, Shigaraki is pervy, they play League of Legends cuz I'm just as much of a loser as Shigaraki, story has TWO PARTS in one fic, fluff, not proofread

i will not stop babygirlifying Shigaraki YOU CAN'T STOP ME

Notes about reader: quiet-type, wears flashy alternative clothes and makeup, nerdy (artist, gamer, loves anime & manga), neurodivergent

The PLF was staffed with a multitude of skilled folks, all of different positions. There were those on the front causing trouble, like most of the League. Some people held side-line positions, which is where you come in. You worked as a research, statistic, and data analyst, as well as an undercover intel gatherer. Under Skeptic's duty. More of a down-low kind of role.

You weren't the most talkative, but you were always there at every meeting and event. However, the outfits you wore and the way you did your hair almost completely contrasted with your rather quiet personality. Bold eyeliner, frilly skirts, sexy fishnets. You'd come to meetings and usually have your face buried into a sketchbook, yet whenever you were called on it seemed like you were paying attention perfectly.

Shigaraki kept tabs on most of the PLF members, though not extensively. You, however, always managed to catch his eye. For such a minuscule role in the organization, you seemed to pop up everywhere. It was never hard to spot you.

What truly caught him was when you walked into a meeting wearing a fucking League of Legends shirt. He recalls it perfectly. The way you fwumped down in your chair, always across the table in the same damn chair every time. You carried about five manga books with you and your sketchbook, and a Monster Energy right by you. He paid closer attention at that meeting and picked up on your habits and suddenly he found your voice exciting to listen to. It was a bummer you were so reserved.

With all that damn shit you carried around with you, it was frequent that you'd be stuck in the meeting room a couple minutes after everyone left. Just trying to gather your things.

Tomura noticed you questioning your packing methods as he walked toward the door. He was getting a little irritated just watching you struggle with your bag, trying to get it all to fit. He thought to himself "fuck it" and strolled over to you. You weren't really paying attention as he grabbed one of your books with only two fingers and a thumb, eyeballing your backpack. You packed a lot of shit.

You looked up and you began to freeze. The big boss. You were beyond confused and a tiny bit frightened. You didn't say anything until he looked at you as well.

"Need help?" Tomura asked, gently waving the book in his hand. You took note that he was being careful with it.

"Uh..sure, yes," you stammered.

"You have a lot of stuff. How'd you even get it all up here? Cuz to be honest all this ain't gonna fit."

"I carried it."

He now took note of the headphones around your shoulders. You were funny, he thought.

"Let me take the backpack and you can carry your books."

You paused a moment, confused that he stopped to help you. Especially considering he's, him.

"O-okay."

Tomura took your bag, which typically is a little heavy for you, but less than a breeze for him.

"Where's your room?" Tomura asked.

"Skeptic's wing."

"Oh, right. You're the research girlie."

You were impressed that he knew. You followed him sheepishly. "Girlie." Shigaraki sure did have a smart mouth, judging by the meetings. Once you got down the stairs, Tomura gestured for you to go in front of him.

"Lead the way. I don't know where the hell we're going."

You lead him toward your room of the building. Tomura snuck a look at your ass as you guided him through Skeptic's wing. The fishnets looked nice on you, too. A part of his mind wanted to compare you to a hooker, but he had a feeling that wasn't very progressive of him. He wasn't complaining, though.

"Here."

You two had finally arrived at your bedroom. You opened the door and Shigaraki questioned if it was okay for him to come in, so he sat the backpack down just beyond your door.

"I, uh. Thank you, Shigaraki."

He felt a little excitement in his pants listening to you say his name, especially in such a thankful tone.

"Yea, no prob." He began to step away, no formal goodbye until he stopped, realizing he didn't exactly know your name.

He made steps backwards towards your door.

"You're name..it's Y/N? If I remember right. Sorry. There's a lot of us."

"No worries," you smiled. "Yea, that's me."

"You play League?" He asked, noticing your shirt again.

"Oh! Yea! I mean, I fucki- sorry-language, I suck. But I love playing."

"No shame. I'd carry you," Tomura flirted? He wasn't sure. He eyed you like an excited puppy. "I just don't know any girls who play. Or anyone aside from Spinner, honestly."

"He does?"

"Yea. We, uh..We should play. Tonight?" Tomura felt his face get warm and he knew he had to cut the convo short before he went red.

"Yea!!" You perked up. Excited to make friends, which was very hard for you because of how quiet you were. With Shigaraki, too? Definitely would come in your favor, you figured.

Shigaraki felt himself get flustered at your sudden excitement.

"Do you have a paper and pen?" He asked, figuring you should.

"Yeah hold on," you went to your desk and pulled out a paper and pen and handed them over to him.

Tomura used his thigh to write down his user, and also included his phone number while he was at it, just in case.

"Here. I, uh, I gotta go but you can text me. I'll tell Spinner to be prepared."

"Okay," you beamed. Tomura tried holding back his smile that would've spread right across his face if he didn't.

"Okay. Bye." He turned away and trailed off faster than lightning. For the first time in...wow. For once, he felt like he was experiencing happiness in an objectively good way that didn't involve murdering a whole city. He then wondered if that was gonna be a deal breaker.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A couple weeks had passed. You and Tomura were certainly friends up to this point. You played League a bunch (with Spinner, who could tell Shigaraki had the hots for you), but you two had also played other games together. Minecraft and GTA were regulars. He even pestered about Animal Crossing, but you didn't have a Switch! (He was going to change that).

As for in-person? You two sat closer together at meetings. You had even left your designated chair to come join his side. Some of the other higher-ups were starting to question it, but Shigaraki always found ways to write them off.

You made Tomura feel normal. Almost child-like. Like there was someone who only needed him for mutual jokes and fun. You were also a very understanding person and didn't shame him for things that you had every reason to. Of course, he hadn't spilled every bean in his can yet. He couldn't handle sharing all that and then you did not like him the same way he liked you.

-

"Dude, just ask her out." Dabi sipped from his beer and scowled watching Shigaraki stare at you from across the room. The League threw a party for no good reason. Of course, PLF members were encouraged to come.

"She doesn't have other people to hang out with so she's probably looking for you anyways," Spinner included.

"Don't call her a loner," Shigaraki said spitefully, taking a drink from his glass of whiskey.

"If the shoe fits," Dabi includes.

"She's smart for that. This world is full of posers."

"Not like yourself, right?" Dabi includes.

"I will dump my whiskey on your burn scars. Shut the fuck up."

"Just fucking ask the girl out. She gets all smiley around you anyways. Probably gooey, too."

"Knock it OFF!" Shigaraki rumbles. Though the hypothetical idea of that definitely made him feel pride. "I've like. Never had a friend, who was a girl, that I liked this way."

"You're a virgin, got it," Dabi joked, knowing full well he was risking his life.

"I fucking hate you." Shigaraki sighs and scratches his, neck. He turned his gaze over to you, noticing your fitting black dress with your classic fish nets. He noticed a boob window, too. That was gonna make this harder (ha). He actually appreciated your style a lot. He was always excited to see what you chose to wear whenever there was a meeting, or he knew he was gonna see you somehow. Always full of surprises.

Spinner was right, though. You looked lost. You hung around the bar, bored and stagnant. Shigaraki noticed some guys looking at you, making him feel protective and angry. You looked your head around and then you and his gaze met. He figured it was time to approach you.

He walked up to you at the bar with his whiskey in hand. He sat in the chair next to yours and looked at you with a restrained smirk.

"Hi."

"Hi," you giggled.

"Having a good time?"

"So far I've been bored."

"When did you get here?" Shigaraki says sneaky. He saw you come in twenty minutes ago.

"A bit ago."

"Why didn't you come look for me?"

"I saw you with Spinner and Dabi, actually. I didn't know if you wanted me to hang out with you."

"Are you kidding me?" Shigaraki furrows, but sees you genuine face of worry. "Of course, I want to hang out with you. More than Dabi, I can say that."

"I'm just not as cool as most of the others."

"Girlie, you're out of your mind if you think you're any less cool than these losers. You're uh. You're like the coolest girl I know," he begins to transition into a mumble, though you heard every word.

"You're uh," Tomura's head whipped around when you began speaking. "You're cooler."

"I'll agree with you there. I'm better at games. And murderous ways."

"Yea."

"You're a deviant little devil, though," He chuckles, semi-sarcastically.

"Okay, maybe I am cooler, actually."

"Fuck you," He laughs.

He really couldn't handle it anymore. Not being transparent about how he felt about you. He did the good thing, right? He didn't solicit himself onto you and try the nice guy shit. He also wanted to get to know you better, though. But he felt himself get excited to see you. He'd get sad when you didn't text him for a while. He found himself wanting to comfort you, as well as Shigaraki possibly could. He wanted to touch you, and not even sexually (well, yes sexually). He wanted to feel your hair and how you felt hugging him. Oh, yea. His quirk. He's gotten gloves from the Doctor before, though. He can make it work.

"I knew you were here when you got here," he admits.

"I know. You looked over at me a couple times."

"Oh."

"What took you so long?"

"I..uh-" his mind was screaming. "I was nervous."

"You were nervous? When do you get nervous?"

"Tonight. Right now. I-It's just, I-fuck!" He buried his face in his hands, itching the area on his face he could reach.

"What's wrong?"

"I like you," Tomura muffled in his hands.

You're eyes shot wide open and your heart beat faster than you thought possible.

"Really?" You began to smile wide, though Tomura still couldn't see.

"YeuUP! A lot. Like so much so that..FUUUck."

"Being shy is my job!" You giggled, voice shaking. Shigaraki could hear the tremble in your voice and looked at you, seeing your huge smile and bright eyes.

"Yea, well. You're cute. You did this to me!" He scoffs with a cackle.

"I brought the big boss to his knees, then?"

"Uh-huh. Ya got me."

"I, um.." Tomura turned his head to you while you began to speak. "I like you too."

"You do?"

"Yea. I've been scared to say it. I didn't think you did."

"For a data analyst I figured you'd pick up on it."

"Well. Maybe I did. But I doubted that it was true."

"Well," Tomura turned to face you directly this time. "It's pretty canon, as you'd say."

You chuckled at him and looked at his hands. You reached out and trailed your more delicate hands against his, rubbing the inside of his palm. He looked at you in awe, in slight disbelief of what you were doing.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" Tomura asked, slightly shaking.

"Yes." You smiled, his hand now holding yours, with his pinky up. "Please?"

"Yea. I'm the one who asked, silly. And I'll get gloves, okay?"

"Okay. I trust you."

"Thanks. So...is it too early to ask for a kiss?"

You blushed and hid your face in your other hand.

"No. But there's all these people."

"True. Let's get out of here then. My room? I got a huuuuge bed."

"What're your intentions?" You blushed.

He shrugged and smirked. "Whatever you want. I also have like, six gaming consoles and a PC. Mario Kart? Or...Smash? ;)"

"Both?"

"Good choice."

Tomura is in my wall ?!

one word..i'm proud.

this masterpiece is bigger then my upper body ✨💀

Sweet Dreams

Shigaraki x F!Reader smut

Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI! Dubcon, (Shigaraki believes you're asleep when in fact, you're not) somnophilia, oral sex (m. receiving), spit play, cum in mouth

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Synopsis: It's a fantasy Shigaraki can't say no to anymore. Sneaking into your room at night, he intents to use your mouth to get himself off

A.N.: This idea has been in my head for a while and since I miss him so so much, it was time to put idea into words💕

Word count: 1.2k

Most desires are harmless when given into. But then there are those that must remain inaccessible, no matter how strong the temptation. The one Shigaraki is about to execute belongs to the latter. 

You are just so irresistibly beautiful when splayed out on the mattress, hair messy and mouth slightly agape. Sound asleep, you look peaceful and so deep in your dreams that nothing could bother you. In fact, having sneaked into your room multiple times at night, Shigaraki knows his presence won’t disturb your sleep.

Such thought encourages him to live out the filthy fantasy, which started as nothing more than a mental image, something he liked to fuck his fist to. But it evolved slowly into a depraved idea that he had been able to deny at first. But the compulsive thoughts turned into needs and tonight his frustration has an iron grip on his restraint. 

That’s why he stands beside your bed, hands stuffed in the pockets of his black sweatpants, upper body completely bare. Staring down at your slumbering figure that’s clad in nothing but panties and a camisole top. 

His eyes lack emotion, but what he truly feels is control, possessiveness. His cock throbs for knowing that you’re entirely at his mercy. So while listening to your calm breathing, he slowly pushes his sweats down to his ankles, freeing his hardened, aching cock from its confines. 

He then places his weight on the bed, straddling your waist first. Spending a minute to admire your beauty, he moves strands away from your face and carefully tucks some behind your ear. Setting your arms on your sides, he positions himself on top of you so that your head rests between his thighs. 

Aroused, he breathes heavily from soon getting to shove his cock in your pretty mouth. But first he wants to tease himself a little. Letting his balls rest on your chin while giving himself a few relieving pumps. Closing his eyes and leaning his head back, his adam’s apple bobs as he tries to stifle groans of pleasure.  

Having never been this close to the foul fantasy, he wants to cherish the moment and jerk off above you while his heavy balls jiggle against your face. Panting in pleasure, he looks down at your blissfully unaware state and bites the scar of his lip at the sight. 

He then carefully shifts in his position, sweeping his thumb softly on your bottom lip to cautiously open your mouth. Giving your glossy lips a few lewd taps with the head of his cock, he enters, slowly, but determinedly.

Eyes rolling in the back of his skull, the softness of your tongue is intoxicating. Your breath feels hot, heavenly, as he gently angles your head and fucks into your cheek. It’s exhilarating, the way your skin stretches into the shape of his dick.  

With controlled motions, he carefully rocks his hips and observes how his cock slides in and out of your mouth. He has to grit his teeth to keep the profanities behind them, but it’s futile. 

“Fuck— Ah..” He grunts quietly, pleasure blurring his discretion after every shallow thrust, “Yeah.. Take it, fucking slut,” he leans in a little and secures his posture with one hand flat on the mattress. 

Having crossed one line means that another can be violated too. The remnants of any sense disappear when he stops fighting the urge to grip your hair. Grasping a handful of it, he thrusts steadily into your cheek, “Nngh.. You love to suck my dick, don’t you baby..?” 

Leaning his head back momentarily, he basks in the sinful bliss before continuing to observe your oblivious figure to suck his cock. 

But as pleasure surges through him, the need for more also grows. More importantly, he wants to get rough with you. So throwing caution out the window as if it was never there, he gives a few more thrusts into your cheek before pulling out.

Getting up, he gently grabs your pliant body and pulls you so that your head hangs from the edge of the bed. That way he can have full access to your throat. 

When your position is just perfect, he takes a look at you. His eyes hooded, a predatory smirk spreads on his features as he fists his cock. Aren’t you just the sweetest little toy for him? 

While jerking himself off, he crouches a little and spits in your mouth, spreading his saliva on your tongue with index finger. Straightening his posture, he gently rubs his balls on your face. Then slapping your cheeks a few times with the head of his cock before entering your mouth again. 

Features distorting almost disturbingly, his tongue lolls out as he feels the tightness of your throat around his dick.

“Fuck yeah.. “ He huffs, hands tangling up into your hair as he holds your head. 

Beginning to thrust steadily, he’s more content with the amount of pleasure he gets from your body. Squelching sounds reverberate inside your throat as he shamelessly humps your mouth. It’s arousing, daring Shigaraki to fuck your face faster. And he has always been bad at saying ‘no’ to himself. 

Picking up the pace, his heavy balls swing against your nose obscenely, your sleepy sounds vibrating around his cock. Even though Shigaraki knows that you might wake up from the rough treatment, he doesn’t care anymore. He’s gonna use your throat to get himself off whether you like it or not. 

“Nnh— I’m gonna blow my load in your mouth baby,” he grunts, feeling his balls tightening in approaching orgasm.

“Ahh— You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Obviously he doesn’t expect you to answer, but the cute, sleepy hums are enough to convince him you’d just love for him to paint the insides of your throat with his cum. 

The mere thought makes his thrusts sloppy as he nears his bliss. Hands gripping your hair tightly as he shoves his whole dick in, grunting through gritted teeth as he spills his seed in steady spurts in the back of your throat. Holding your head still, he takes his time to empty himself, making sure every drop of his cum races down your throat, into your belly. 

Sighing contentedly, he pulls his cock out, unceremoniously. Then he slips back into his sweats and proceeds to move your body back into its position, as if he hasn’t just blatantly used you. Tucking you in, he admires you with a twisted smile on his face before walking towards the door. 

He glances over his shoulder one last time with the most satisfied smirk on his face, “Sweet dreams, baby,” he says before closing the door. 

Unbeknownst to him though, you swallow his load with a lecherous sound. Cracking open your hooded eyes, a debauched smile appears on your face. There’s an unbearable ache in your clit and your panties are absolutely drenched for being more than compliant to let the League’s leader use your mouth to please himself.