Game Night

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 6) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

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

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

Chapter 6

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. And to your dull human senses, what’s wrong with your house barely stands out on your street. You barely stand out on y our street anymore, either. Other people avoid this neighborhood. It’s not uncommon for everybody’s mail and packages to get dumped in a pile at the top of the street, because no postal worker wants to drive down this way if they can help it. But you’ve been here long enough now. Your neighborhood feels like home. Everybody here knows your name.

Shinsou and Hizashi are trying to start a garden, so you bring over some of your plants to help get them started. Keigo is teaching Jin to drive, and neither of them can get the hang of parallel parking, so you help out by shouting instructions from the curb as Jin tries not to murder your car or Aizawa’s while backing Keigo’s in. Sometimes you take Atsuhiro with you when you go grocery shopping, at Aizawa’s request – Atsuhiro has a shoplifting problem, and everyone else is tired of bailing him out of jail. And in the most awkward incident yet, Himiko gets her first period while Jin’s mom is at work and runs shrieking up the street to your house.

It’s your day off, but you’re in the bathroom when she arrives, so Tomura goes out onto the porch instead. Tomura’s not the person you want addressing a sensitive topic. When you finally make it out there, he’s in the middle of speculating that the unexplained blood loss means Himiko is going to die.

She looks close to tears, and you decide to address the biggest problem first. “You’re not going to die,” you tell her. Then you turn to Tomura. “And you – get out of here. This is girl stuff.”

Usually the threat of girl stuff banishes Tomura pretty quickly, but he doesn’t move. “Humans die from blood loss.”

“This isn’t that kind of blood loss. Shoo.”

Himiko ghost-blinks up at you through teary eyes. “It’s not?”

You shake your head. “It’s normal. Have you been feeling okay these last few days?”

“My stomach hurts. Since Friday.” Himiko’s mouth turns down at the corners. “Ochako at school says I’ve been mean.”

PMS is bad enough when you know it’s coming, but Himiko’s a former ghost, and her favorite human is a guy. She’s probably never seen this before. “Okay,” you say. “You should probably ask Jin’s mom more about this when she gets home. This is kind of a mom thing. But you’re not dying. You just got your period. It’s normal.”

“For humans.”

“Yep.

“Do you have one?”

“Not right now,” you say. You feel a little weird talking about this in front of Tomura. “Every month, though. I’m going to give you some pads to take with you, and you can borrow my heating pad. I’d invite you in, but –”

“Tomura’s a boy and he’s gross.”

“Hey!”

“Right,” you say, ignoring him. “Just a second.”

You duck back inside, pick up an unopened package of pads, and retrieve your heating pad from the medicine cabinet. When you get back to the porch, Tomura’s still there. He and Himiko are staring at each other. Neither of them are making a sound, but you get the sense that they’re talking. Spinner said the ghosts say weird things when they talk to each other, but he must have been eavesdropping on a conversation out loud. You’ve got no idea what Himiko and Tomura are saying to each other, and you have to clear your throat twice before either of them turn their attention back to you. And when they do, their expressions are different than you’d expect. Tomura looks uncomfortable, defensive. Himiko, still a little teary-eyed, looks pleased with herself. Why?

Whatever it is, you’ll have more luck getting it out of Tomura than her. “Here are the pads,” you say, holding them out. “You probably won’t go through them too fast, and when your mom gets back she can help you pick some out. And the heating pad is good for cramps. Put it on your stomach or your lower back, whichever feels worse.”

“Okay.” Himiko wipes her eyes, then smiles at you. “You’re nice. Are you old enough to be a mom?”

“I mean, probably?” A few of your friends from college have kids now. “Not old enough to be your mom, though. Why?”

“No reason.” Himiko turns and makes her way down the porch steps, staggering a bit like you do when you get hit with a bad cramp. “Thanks.”

“If you need anything else before your mom comes back, come over,” you say. You wait until she’s out of sight, then turn your attention to Tomura. “What was that about?”

“She asked if I like you like a mom.” Tomura looks like he wants to hurl. “I said no, and then she asked if I like you like she likes Jin, or like Eri likes Shinsou.”

“And you said no?”

“I said yes,” Tomura says, and your heart sinks – but only for a second. “The little brat can still read auras. She knew I was lying.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask him what he lied about, but then you realize you already know. Himiko eliminated two of the three varieties of ghost-human relationships in the neighborhood – sibling-sibling and parent-child. That leaves two options, neither of which you like. Either Tomura likes you the way Hizashi likes Aizawa and Dabi used to like Keigo, or he doesn’t like you at all.

You should leave it. You should drop the topic and back away slowly. Instead you open your mouth. “Why did you lie to her?”

“What I do with my human is none of her business. Or anyone else’s.” Tomura is dematerializing. Now he’s just a voice and a pair of hands gripping the porch railing so hard that you’re worried it’ll snap. “Go away.”

Fine. You tell yourself it’s fine, that you’ll go, but your feet stay stubbornly planted until your phone rings from somewhere inside the house and you have to go back to retrieve it. Aizawa’s calling, and when you pick up, he starts talking without greeting you first. “Your job gives you access to public records. I’m going to give you a list of names.”

“I can’t just –”

Aizawa starts reading them off, proving that the ghosts aren’t the only ones in the neighborhood who can be assholes in the bargain, and you scramble for a pen and a piece of paper. Phantom is prodding you in the ankle with her snout, looking for a treat. “Hang on a second,” you snap at Aizawa. “I need to write this down.”

A piece of paper skids across the counter towards you, followed by a pen. “Thanks,” you say to Tomura. Then, to Aizawa: “Start at the beginning. The first name was?”

There are seven names on the list. They’re all men’s names. “I want all the information you can find,” Aizawa says. “As quickly as you can find it.”

“This is public record,” you complain. “Make a records request. This is my job. I’m not going to get in trouble just so you can avoid some paperwork.”

“It’s not the paperwork,” Aizawa says flatly. “If I make that request, my name and address become public. You’re the only one in the neighborhood who can look without giving us away.”

The neighborhood. You thought this was just some project of Aizawa’s, but – “Who are these people?”

“That’s what you need to find out,” Aizawa says. “As soon as possible.”

He hangs up the phone without saying thank you, and you look down at the piece of paper and the names you scribbled. Your handwriting is bad. You need to recopy them. “So that’s it?” Tomura says from the other side of the kitchen. He’s barely an outline. “Aizawa calls and you jump to it? Pathetic.”

You ignore him. What he says, at least. “Do you know any of these names?”

“Why would I know them?”

“Just look.” You hold out the list, and Tomura drifts across the kitchen to investigate. “I don’t know why he wants me to look these up. He made it sound really important. Do any of these look familiar?”

“No.” Tomura’s hand materializes fully, plucks the list out of your grip, and sets it down on the counter. “I wasn’t done with you.”

“You told me to go away,” you say. “I listened.”

It’s like you didn’t speak at all. The rest of Tomura materializes, from the tips of his fingers upward, until he’s standing before you, closer than he’s gotten in a while. “You asked me what I want. I know now.”

You can’t remember ever putting that question to him – according to Aizawa, asking ghosts open-ended questions like that is a really bad idea. But because you’re you, and you’re stupid, you ask it again. “What do you want, Tomura?”

A pair of cold hands close on your waist. Tomura pulls you forward so hard that you stumble, falling against his chest. “You’re mine,” he says. “I want you.”

A jolt goes straight down your spine. You’ve heard that note in his voice once before and imagined it a thousand times over, but hearing it again right now feels like a disaster. “Be specific,” you say, looking anywhere but up into his face. “What specifically do you –”

One hand leaves your waist to press against your jaw, forcing you to turn your head and look up. A moment later Tomura’s lips crash down against yours.

He kisses exactly the way you’d expect him to kiss, the way of someone who’s seen it in movies but never asked anyone how it’s done. Mouth closed, all pressure, nothing else. He’s not going to let you go, so you hold still, hoping Tomura will take some kind of hint that it’s not going as plan. Tomura stops and draws back, frowning. “You aren’t doing it back.”

“I can’t when you’re doing it like that,” you say. “You’re doing it wrong.”

“I’m not doing it wrong. You’re doing it wrong.”

“Hey. I’ve kissed somebody before. You’ve just watched it on TV.” You feel Tomura’s grip on you loosen slightly. This is your chance to escape, to tell him that you’re not interested, to threaten to move out if he ever tries this again and maybe mean it. “It’s more fun if you do it right.”

Tomura looks at you suspiciously. “How do I do it right?”

Some part of your mind that’s still sane, that still exists in the real world instead of the twisted upside-down haunt of your house and your neighborhood, is screaming for you to stop, but it’s fading fast. You let it go. You free your hands from where they’re trapped at your sides and frame Tomura’s face with them. “I’ll show you.”

You start with a gentle kiss, mouth closed but soft, and because Tomura’s an asshole, he starts arguing even before you’ve pulled away. “That’s what I did.”

“No, you did it too hard.” You kiss him the same way again, trying to get the point across. “You can still talk when I do it like this, which means you can respond.”

Tomura’s scowling now, but he leans in to kiss you again, and this time the pressure is significantly less. His lips are chapped. You part your lips against his, catching on his lower lip, and he startles. You wonder if anybody else in the neighborhood had to teach their undersocialized ghost how to kiss properly. Probably not.

Tomura’s fatal flaw with kissing is overenthusiasm. As soon as he figures out that opening his mouth is a thing he can do, he overdoes it. The only reason it’s not horrendous is because his mouth tastes like nothing, and it’s almost sandpaper-dry. You let go of his face, put your hands on his shoulders, and give a few shoves until he pulls back. “No.”

“I like it,” Tomura says defiantly. He does. That patchy flush is all over his face. “I don’t care if you do.”

“You should,” you say, and you fall back on a negotiating tactic from forever ago. “If you’re good at it, I’ll want to kiss you more.”

You’ve tried this tactic on human men before. Human men usually convince themselves that you’re playing hard to get and go right back to the vacuum-cleaner technique they were using. But Tomura looks like he’s thinking about it, so you try to sweeten the deal. “I’ll show you,” you say, and he’s already leaning in.

Part of you is still aware that this is a mistake. You won’t be able to turn back the clock on this incident the way you could with the last one. You can’t pretend that this is all for Tomura, that it’s got nothing to do with you, when you’re the one who won’t settle for less than a good kiss. You’re the one who keeps trying to get a reaction out of him, trying to put him back at the mercy of his body just like he was before, and there’s something heady and intoxicating about the fact that it’s working. Tomura’s breathing comes in sharp gasps, and yours isn’t doing much better – but it’s normal for you. “Why do you do that?” you ask, pulling away. Tomura lets out a frustrated whine and leans in again, but you stay just out of reach. “Breathing like that. You don’t need to breathe.”

“I can’t – help it.” Tomura’s shoulders heave beneath your hands. He claws at your hips, trying to pull you back. “Come on. I need it. I need it. I can’t go back like this.”

You’re still out of kissing range, but your hips are locked against his, and you can feel that he’s hard. It surprises you, although it shouldn’t. You got to him before by touching his hand. This is a lot more stimulation than that. You study him, your heart racing, taking in his dilated pupils, his flushed face. The scars over his lip and eye stand out in sharp relief. His skin is shiny, sweaty. You were right in all your daydreams about how desire looks on him. It looks good.

It looks good, and he looks desperate. “Don’t stare at me. Why are you staring at me?”

“You’re pretty,” you say without thinking. You lean in and kiss him again before he can complain about it.

The plan is to keep kissing him until he comes and dematerializes, but you like the sounds he’s making too much to keep muffling them. You duck away from his kiss and start kissing his neck instead, lips moving over the same spot he usually scratches. “Hey,” Tomura complains. “What are you doing? I – ah –”

He grinds against you, groans, and you realize you have a problem. You’re at least as turned on as Tomura is, only you can’t get off from just a kiss. He gets to dematerialize as soon as he comes, and after that you’ll be stuck. You decide that’s a problem for later. You’re busy. A second after you have that thought, Tomura loses patience. He pushes you back against the counter, pinning you in place as his hips jerk in brief, unpracticed thrusts. You keep kissing his neck. If he was human, he’d be walking around with love bites. That thought shouldn’t turn you on, but it does, and it occurs to you that Tomura’s possessiveness runs the other way, too. You’re his human, sure. But he’s nobody’s ghost but yours.

“I can’t,” Tomura gasps. He’s starting to dematerialize. “I can’t. Not yet –”

If he dematerializes while he’s still turned on, the entire street’s going to be pissed off at you for however long it takes him to materialize again. You back off from kissing Tomura’s neck and kiss his mouth again, as he moans and struggles for air he doesn’t need. Suddenly his back arches, pinning you harder than before, and you hold on tight as he shudders. It doesn’t matter how tightly you hold onto him. He’s already dematerializing, slipping away, just like you knew he would. The warm air rushes in once he’s gone.

One of the perks of having a ghost in the house is that the house is never too warm. Now, with said ghost too zapped to materialize, it’s way too warm in the kitchen, and even that isn’t enough to change how ridiculously turned on you are. You could stick your head in the refrigerator and try to calm down, but the idea of doing that pisses you off. Tomura got to get off to your weird but still hot kitchen makeout. So should you.

Some sense of propriety motivates you not to just stick your hand down your pants in the kitchen. You make your way to your bedroom upstairs, and this time, you settle onto the bed instead of the floor. This time, you don’t have to go to your imagination for something to fantasize to. You’ve got the memory of the absolute mess that occurred in the kitchen to keep you focused, and honestly, you’re so shamefully hot over it that you barely need to fantasize at all.

Your mind floods with a replay of the insistent pressure of Tomura’s mouth against yours, the uneven roll of his hips, and remembering the needy sounds he made makes your muscles clench tight in response. You have both hands between your legs, one teasing your clit while the other presses two fingers inside, crooking at an angle that’s never easy to reach on your own. If somebody else, somebody with longer fingers, somebody poised above you or settled between your legs – once you let that thought into your mind, it’s all over. You come so fast you’re almost embarrassed by it. Almost.

You’re lying on your bed, catching your breath, when the temperature of your room begins to change. Tomura’s voice, barely a whisper, snakes through the air. “I saw that.”

Your face heats up, but you’re already flushed, so it doesn’t matter. “So?”

“I want that next time.”

You’re not sure how you feel about Tomura’s assumption that there’s going to be a next time. But there’s a bigger problem. “Based on what I felt this time, you don’t really have the equipment for that.”

“Don’t be stupid. I want you to do this next time when I do.” The temperature of the room settles into the low chill you’ve become familiar with, but the cold spot itself is on the bed next to you, inching closer. “Or I can do it.”

You can’t think about that. Not right now, anyway. “Nobody’s doing anything right now. I don’t even want to know what you already drained to make this happen.” A terrible thought occurs to you. “Phantom! Where –”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tomura says again. You can hear Phantom scratching at the door and whining. She knows you and Tomura are both in here and she wants to know why she’s being left out. “I wouldn’t touch her. I used some plants.”

“Not the ones –”

“Not the ones you like.” If Tomura was materialized, he’d be rolling his eyes. “They all look the same anyway.”

“They don’t all look the same.” You sit up and swing your legs off the bed. “Stupid.”

Tomura makes an indignant sound, but you ignore him as you head to the bathroom to wash your hands. You’d expect things to be weird, so it’s a surprise to you how normal things feel. Normal except for the fact that Tomura’s in your room instead of lurking somewhere else in the house. So normal, in fact, that you find yourself dealing with a problem you’ve had since you found out you had a ghost. “You’re still not allowed in the bathroom when I’m in here.”

“You’re not even doing anything!”

You know you’re going to have to deal with the fallout from the kitchen makeout later. But it’ll be a while before Tomura can materialize again, and until that happens, you’re not going to think about it at all. “I don’t care. Get out.”

You were hoping you dealt with Tomura fast enough that none of the other adult ghosts caught on, but you’re not that lucky. When you leave the house the next morning to get in your car for the drive to work, Hizashi’s right out front on the sidewalk, holding a jar of fresh bugs as far from his body as humanly possible. When he sees you, he pushes it into your hands and backs away. “You know,” he says, and winks. “For later.”

You cringe and duck into your car, but a moment later, Keigo calls out to you from across the street. “Hey, can I get a ride to work? My car’s out of commission.”

“It looks okay,” you say – and then you realize it’s noticeably sinking on one side. “The tires.”

“Yep. Do you mind?”

“Nope.” You move your work bag to the backseat to make room, and look back up front just in time for a balled-up piece of paper to hit the windshield. It could only have come from one direction, and when you look up, you spot Tomura on the porch, barely materialized. “What was that?”

“Your dumb list.”

“The one Shou gave you?” Hizashi still hasn’t left, and he watches you closely as you pull the piece of paper into the car and un-crumple it. “Good. Let him know as soon as you find anything.”

“Sorry. Gotta move.” Keigo eases past Hizashi and hops into the passenger seat. You start the car and back out into the street a little faster than necessary.

You’re driving fast, but not fast enough to get past Spinner’s house before Magne steps out the front door. She waves at you, smirking, and gives a thumbs-up. You wave back, still cringing, and Keigo notices. He reclines his seat with a yawn. “Big night, huh?”

You hit your head against the steering wheel when you reach the stop sign at the top of the street. “Does everybody know?”

“Probably. He’s too powerful. Every time his mood changes, the whole street feels it.” Keigo shrugs. “Also, your whole front lawn is dead.”

You didn’t even notice. “Great,” you mumble. “Think he’ll tone it down if I ask him to?”

“You know him better than me,” Keigo says. He yawns a second time. “He seems like he cares about what you want. He made sure you didn’t forget your list when you left. Dabi, for comparison, snuck out of the house and slashed my tires before I woke up. You definitely got the better ghost.”

“Sorry about your tires,” you say, for lack of anything better. Keigo shrugs again. “Can I ask you about the list? Aizawa was cagey about it on the phone.”

“Sure.” Keigo spends a few minutes smoothing out the wrinkles in the piece of paper. You sneak looks at him out of the corner of your eye, and you don’t miss the way his eyes widen. “I don’t know most of these names. I know this one, though – Garaki Kyudai. He’s a conjurer. Touya’s conjurer.”

“What?” You stare at Keigo once you’re safely at a stoplight. “Touya’s conjurer is alive?”

“Most of them are,” Keigo says. He looks pale. “If Aizawa and Hizashi have that name, they know something we don’t.”

“Then they should tell us,” you say. Keigo looks worried. You’re not worried, maybe because you don’t know enough to be worried, maybe because Tomura didn’t recognize any of the names on the list. “Aizawa and Hizashi don’t get to hide things from the rest of us just because they’re the oldest.”

Keigo nods. “Do the research they asked for. Today,” he says. “Don’t give it to them until they level with us.”

“Sounds good.” Us could be you and Keigo. Us could also be the entire neighborhood, which is fine. If it concerns conjurers, it concerns the entire neighborhood, and everyone should know. But this is going to involve you saying no to Aizawa, who you owe big-time, and to Hizashi, who still sort of terrifies you. “Um, so I think I’m going to wait to say no until I’m in my yard.”

“Yeah, that’s probably smart,” Keigo agrees. “Hizashi won’t get into it with Tomura. Can you imagine if Hizashi was still incorporeal, though? That would be a hell of a fight.”

“Ghosts fight?”

“Yeah, big-time. Dabi’s old house – the one I moved into, like a moron – had a bunch of ghosts in it. It got crazy in there.”

Sharing a house with one ghost is chaotic enough. You can’t imagine a house with multiple ghosts, let alone multiple ghosts who are fighting with each other. You wonder if Tomura’s ever fought another ghost, and if so, how it went. He probably hasn’t. He’s picky enough with who he lets onto the property to begin with. No way he’d let another ghost in just to fight.

You park your car in the lot at the courthouse, and you and Keigo go your separate ways – you to the public defenders’ office in the courthouse’s lower levels, Keigo to the police station. He’s a social worker, not a cop, and he usually goes out on mental health calls. The two of you plan to meet after work, go over what you found, and book it into your respective houses once you get back to the neighborhood to minimize the chances that Aizawa or Hizashi will corner you. It’s only nine am on Monday and you’re already tired.

You didn’t sleep well last night. Part of it was still being sort of turned on and not being able to do anything about – not now that you know Tomura’s watching. And Tomura was watching. He’s been leaving you alone at night for the most part, but last night he was back to hanging out in the corner of your room. At least, you think he stayed in the corner of your room. At some point you woke up shivering, and you could have sworn he was on the bed with you, draped over you in some weird position that humans definitely don’t sleep in. But that could have been a dream. You’re hoping it was a dream. You don’t know what you’ll do if it wasn’t.

You’ve got no idea what Tomura thinks is going on between the two of you. He didn’t talk to you this morning. He usually doesn’t – you’re busy, and he doesn’t like it when you multitask while talking to him, and after you explained what will happen if you can’t pay your mortgage he’s stopped interfering with you going to work. But he was there. You could feel him there, shadowing your every move, close in a way that would be impossible to work around if he was human. Something’s changed in your relationship, and he wanted it that way. You can’t pretend you didn’t want it, too. But as you make coffee and take off your coat and go through your inbox, you realize you have no idea what you’ll be walking into when you get home.

You know you’ll be walking into it with the information Aizawa asked you to gather, though. You take the list out of your pocket and think things through. Technically you could get into the records database on your own, but you’re a paralegal, not a lawyer – people will be likely to question what you’re doing in there, which means you need cover. And you know just who to go to for help. Mr. Yagi likes that you’re thorough, that you check every angle when you have the time for it. If you ask his permission to get into the database, he won’t say no. You pocket the list again, square your shoulders, throw down your coffee, and go to his office.

The door’s ajar, like usual, but you knock anyway. “Come in,” Mr. Yagi says. He’s hunched over a document on his desk, marking it up in red pen. “I hate to start your morning off with editing, but this will need to be done by noon.”

“No problem,” you say. You can type fast. “Sir, I was wondering if I could log into the records database today.”

“You don’t need my permission for that, my dear,” Mr. Yagi says without looking up. “But you have it, of course. What do you –”

He looks up at you at last and bursts into a coughing fit. It’s a bad one. You duck out into the bullpen, fill a cup from the water cooler, and race back in with it, pushing it into his hands. Mr. Yagi takes small sips, but every time he looks at you, the coughing kicks up again. Something is dawning on you, something you don’t like, something about what Mr. Yagi said and did at the housewarming party. “Sir? Is there something wrong?”

“It’s all over you,” Mr. Yagi says, and your stomach lurches. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you stammer. You can feel your face heating up, and it gets worse when Mr. Yagi reaches into his desk and extracts a UV light wand. “Um –”

He switches it on and pans it over you, and suddenly you understand. There are handprints. Tomura’s handprints, on your shoulders, on your waist, along your jaw, invisible without the light but in stark relief under it. You were worried that the light was going to show ghost cum splattered on your skin, even though you showered and changed clothes twice since yesterday, but this might actually be worse. This looks like you were handled. It looks like you liked it.

Could Hizashi see this, and Magne? Did Tomura do it on purpose? Now that you think about it, you’re sure he did it on purpose. He’s been possessive of you since the beginning. Of course he’d mark you as his own the first chance he got, even if the only people who can see the marks are the other ghosts. If Keigo could see them, you’re pretty sure he’d have given you a heads-up.

But Mr. Yagi could see them without the UV light. And Mr. Yagi knew Tomura was there before you did, saw Tomura before you did. You stare hard at your boss, at his eyes. His eyes are bright blue, and their pupils are round, like they should be. But there’s a faint shadow around his irises in both eyes. You realize, with another lurch in the pit of your stomach, that you’ve never seen your boss blink.

“You’re one of them,” you say. It isn’t a question.

Mr. Yagi sighs. “I’ve been human long enough that my powers have faded. The contacts are enough to hide behind. But no former spirit, no matter how distant they are from their origins, could fail to spot that.” He gestures at you and you cringe. “Were you – aware of this as it happened? Did you consent to it?”

Your eyes well up suddenly, and Mr. Yagi panics, knocking over his cup of water onto his desk. You move to mop it up while he tries to hand you tissues, and in the chaos, it takes you a while to recognize the emotion you’re feeling as shame. What happened yesterday wasn’t out of the ordinary in your neighborhood. Keigo barely blinked when he found out, and Hizashi and Magne were teasing you, not mocking you. Hooking up with a ghost is a semi-normal thing to do in the world you live in now. But it’s not normal here. The way Mr. Yagi asked the question made it clear that he thinks nobody sane would do what you did yesterday. You feel like you’re going to be sick.

Mr. Yagi gives up on the tissues and hands you a handkerchief from his pocket instead. “I will get you out of there,” he says. “You can stay with my family and I, for as long as it takes for you to find your feet. You don’t have to stay –”

“It was consensual.” You force the words out of your mouth. Somewhere in the back of your mind it occurs to you that this conversation is wildly inappropriate for work. HR-reportable levels of inappropriate for work. “I’m fine. I don’t want to leave. Can I get into the database or not?”

“If you’re fine, why are you crying?”

Because you weren’t ashamed before and now you are. “I’ll have the brief retyped by noon. The database –”

“Why do you need it?”

It crosses your mind to lie, but there’s no need. Mr. Yagi is a former ghost. If you explain, he’ll understand. You draw the list out of your pocket. “These are the names of conjurers. I think. I need to get into the database to find out everything I can about them.”

Mr. Yagi takes the list, scans it, and immediately starts coughing again. You head out to the water cooler for the second time in five minutes. By the time you get back, Mr. Yagi is back at his desk, scribbling furiously on the list. You set the water down next to him and he ignores it. “This man is dead,” he says, and draws a line through the name – Akaguro Chizome. “Chisaki Kai – also dead, and recently. Ujiko Daruma is an alias of Garaki Kyudai. Which of the names is his true one, I can’t say.”

You stare at him. He continues to write, drawing circles around the remaining three names. “Garaki is worth locating, but concentrate your efforts on these three. They may be three different people or they may all be aliases of the same man. Who gave you this list?”

Some instinct makes you hold back Aizawa’s name. “Why do you need to know?”

“If they’re planning to hunt conjurers, I have some advice that might make the endeavor less dangerous.”

“Hunt them?” you repeat. “No. They wouldn’t. That’s not what – um.”

Mr. Yagi is looking at you, waiting for an explanation, but you don’t know how much to say. Your neighborhood might be sort of friendly, but there’s at least one murderer in every house except yours, and your boss is a lawyer. A lawyer, not a cop. And if he’s embodied, he’s killed someone, too. Based on your expression, he knows what you’re thinking. “Type the brief, then conduct your research. We’ll meet for lunch to discuss it.”

“Yes, sir.” Lunch is three hours away. You’ve got exactly that long to come up with a plan.

You text Keigo in between typing paragraphs of the brief. My boss is a ghost and he knows about the list. What do I do?

For real? I’ve never met one in the wild. Keigo texts back way too fast for somebody who’s supposed to be at work. You say so and get an eyeroll in response. I’m a crisis responder. If nobody’s in crisis I don’t go out. Did he have ideas?

He knew the names. I’m supposed to meet him at lunch to talk about it. You get an idea. If you’re still around at noon, come meet us.

Keigo sends a thumbs-up and you throw yourself into typing the brief. You print it and return it to Mr. Yagi, swapping it for the list of names. Then you settle in at your computer again, considering where to start. Mr. Yagi seems like he knows what he’s talking about, but it won’t hurt to double-check.

You start with the first name he crossed out. Akaguro Chizome has been dead for a while. Twenty years, almost, and he died from blunt force trauma that crushed his skull to powder. You wonder which ghost did that, if it was even a ghost that did it. There’s not much on him. Just an autopsy report. There’s a lot more on Chisaki Kai, when you look him up. Death certificate, police report, interviews. Interviews. You dig into those, and the name at the top of the first one stuns you into stillness: Aizawa Shouta.

The next interviewee is Shinsou Hitoshi, and after him, Aizawa Eri. The only name that’s missing is Hizashi’s, and slowly the pieces start to come together in your head. Chisaki’s remains were so splattered that he wasn’t identified until long after the investigation was closed. Hizashi wouldn’t have cared what Eri’s conjurer’s name was when he killed him, and as long as he was gone, Aizawa wouldn’t have cared, either. His name is still on their list because they never found out who he really was.

Chisaki’s cause of death was internal organ rupture – all of them, all at once. How the hell did Hizashi do that when he was already human? Probably the same way Dabi still burns Keigo – the stronger they are, the more of their powers they keep when they embody themselves. However Hizashi killed humans as a ghost, it must have been nasty. Really nasty.

You tell yourself not to think about that. The important thing is that Mr. Yagi is a credible source. You can take his advice on this. You borrow the computer at the desk next to yours – your coworker’s on maternity leave, leaving you with triple the workload in the bargain – and pull up a second database window. Then you set two searches to run simultaneously. One for Garaki Kyudai, since you want to have some information to give Keigo when you see him. And one for the first of the three circled names: Shigaraki Akira.

The Garaki search finishes fastest, and you print what you’ve got, then rerun the search for Ujiko Daruma. The search for Shigaraki is much more difficult. It’s not a common name, so while there will be fewer documents, they should be easier to find. They aren’t. You turn up some documents for a Shigaraki Yoichi, all of which mention an older brother, but the older brother’s name never comes up. You rerun the search, this time for Shigaraki Yoichi, wondering all the while if it’s futile. These documents are two hundred years old or more. These people, whoever they are, are long dead.

There’s more on Shigaraki Yoichi than Shigaraki Akira. Shigaraki Yoichi had a really shitty life. He was chronically ill at a time when regular illness was still too hard for most doctors to handle, and his mind wasn’t doing too great, either. He died when he was your age, in a mental hospital. Suicide.

At least, it was thought to be a suicide. The medical examiner’s report inserts some doubt into the equation, but it’s noted specifically that the family of Shigaraki Yoichi chose not to press charges against the asylum for his death. There’s a note about the family members – the ones who came to visit, and the one who identified the body. Mother: in a fragile state. Father: deceased. Sister: absent. Body was identified by deceased’s elder brother Akira.

“Got you,” you mumble, and hit print. Now you’ve got proof that there was somebody out there named Shigaraki Akira – and when you scan the list again, you spot the first name of the next name on the list. Kiriyama Yoichi. It could be a coincidence, but you’re pretty sure the asshole jacked his dead brother’s name. “Nice try. I’ve got you now.”

There’s more on Kiriyama Yoichi, but while that search is running, you look up the asylum Shigaraki Yoichi died in. Sure enough, it’s been shut down, but it wasn’t knocked down – it was turned into a museum. Maybe some of the documents were preserved. If they were, you’d love to read whatever Shigaraki Yoichi had to say about his brother.

You’re in the middle of writing an email to the curator when your phone rings. It’s Spinner’s contact number, which is weird. You can’t figure out why Spinner would be calling you, unless something’s gone wrong in the neighborhood. You pick up the call. “Hello?”

You hear Spinner’s voice, but it’s in the background. “Dude, give it back! Don’t go inside –”

There’s the sound of the door opening and shutting. “Phantom missed you,” Tomura says without preamble. Your jaw drops. “Say hi.”

“Hi, sweetie,” you say helplessly. You can hear her snuffling the phone. “Are you being good? Did you get in trouble?”

Phantom barks. “Good girl,” you say, and she barks again. If you were at home, you’d sit down on the floor to cuddle with her, but you’re at work – and Tomura called you. “You really should give Spinner his phone back.”

“He can have it when I’m done. If I feel like giving it back.” Tomura, you remind yourself, is still an asshole. “When are you coming back?”

“The same time I always get back,” you say. “Why did you take Spinner’s phone? Don’t lie.”

“Wanted to talk to you.” Tomura’s voice takes on an almost laughably sulky note. “What? You don’t want to talk to me?”

“I do. I just can’t believe you called me. I thought you hated phones.”

“I hate other things more than phones,” Tomura says. “Where are you, anyway?”

“I’m at my computer at work. I’m looking up things for the list.” You cast around for something else to say. “I’ll tell you about it when I get back. And I’m going to need help when I get back. Hizashi’s going to try to get it out of me, and I’m not telling anyone until they tell us what’s going on.”

“If he comes near us he’s dead,” Tomura says at once. You can hear knocking on the door in the background, and when Tomura speaks again, he’s not talking to you. “You can have it back when I’m done! Go away!”

“We’re done now. I have work to do, and if I don’t get it done, I have to stay late,” you say. Tomura makes an annoyed sound. “I don’t want to stay late and you don’t want me to, either. I –”

You slap your hand down over your mouth just in time. “What?” Tomura asks.

“I’ll talk to you later,” you say. You’re still reeling from whatever the hell almost came out of your mouth. The sooner you get off the phone, the better. “Give Spinner his phone.”

“Fine,” Tomura complains. “Say goodbye to Phantom.”

You tell her goodbye and listen to the appalling sound of her licking the microphone before Tomura hangs up. You’re going to have to apologize to Spinner when you get back. And you might have to get Tomura a phone.

You have time to finish your email to the curator and print the documents for Kiriyama Yoichi before Mr. Yagi ventures out of his office for lunch. “We’ll be going to the usual place,” he says. He nods at the folder you’re carrying. “It seems your search was fruitful.”

You nod. “One of my neighbors works nearby. Can he come with us?”

“Does he – know?”

You laugh. “He has one. A former one. Half a former one.” Mr. Yagi looks baffled, and you sigh. “I’ll let him explain.”

The lunch place is just up the street. You text Keigo to let him know you’re headed there and start the walk with Mr. Yagi. He insists on carrying your files along with his own briefcase, and all you can do is hover, waiting for him to drop one of the two. “The friend who will be joining us,” Mr. Yagi says, “is that who you were speaking with on the phone?”

“No,” you say. Mr. Yagi looks quizzically at you, but there’s no way you’re getting into it. The less you say about Tomura, the better.

When you get to the restaurant, Keigo’s there already, and he waves you and Mr. Yagi over. There’s a mischievous look on his face, and you watch it anxiously as you introduce the two of them. “Mr. Yagi, this is my neighbor across the street, Takami Keigo. And Keigo, this is my boss, Mr. Yagi.”

“Nice to meet you! And nice contacts,” Keigo says. Then he looks at you. His expression’s gone from a smile to a full-blown smirk. “So.”

“What?”

“The strangest thing happened this morning,” Keigo says. “I got a text from Dabi.”

“Dabi?”

“My – roommate,” Keigo says, modifying the sentence after you kick him under the table. “Usually Dabi’s communication style leaves something to be desired. Blighting crops and hexing people is more his speed. But today he texted me. Quite a bit. Take a look at this.”

He shows you the screen of his phone. You read, with Mr. Yagi reading over your shoulder, cringing on every line.

Dabi: do you believe this shit

Dabi: that asshole from across the street lured Spinner over to the fence like a pedo

Dabi: so then they’re talking about fuck knows what

Dabi: Spinner’s showing him his Switch

Dabi: then Spinner shows him his phone

Dabi: and that asshole fucking materializes one hand, grabs it, and hauls ass back inside

Dabi: it’s been thirty minutes and he still hasn’t given it back

Dabi: crazy shit

Mr. Yagi coughs. Keigo gives you a significant look. “Any speculations as to why Tomura stole Spinner’s phone?”

“Tomura is –”

“Her ghost.” Keigo nods at you.

“Ah,” Mr. Yagi says. “I imagine that Tomura stole the phone in order to place a call to her.”

Keigo wheezes. “He said Phantom missed me,” you say lamely.

“More like he missed you! You’re going to have to get him a phone.” Keigo misinterprets the look you’re giving him and keeps talking. “Don’t teach him how the camera works, though. I taught Touya and now I get photos.”

The last thing you want to do is teach Tomura about dick pics. If you get him a phone, it’s going to be a flip phone. Or one of the ancient ones with the keyboard that slides out. Mr. Yagi is studying Keigo carefully. “Is it true that you have a ghost? I was led to believe that there was something – odd about him.”

“Dabi? Yeah. He’s a scar wraith,” Keigo says. Mr. Yagi nods. “Do you know something about those?”

“Nothing, other than that it’s an uncomfortable state to exist in. How long has he been that way?”

“A while. Before we moved here.” Keigo focuses in on the file folder in a way that tells you he’s done talking about this. “What’s in there? Did you find anything on Garaki?”

“Here.” You pass him the relevant documents, then extract the files on Shigaraki to show to Mr. Yagi. “You were right. At least one of these is an alias. But this person – the first one on the list – was born two hundred and fifty years ago. He can’t still be alive.”

“Conjurers draw power from the world between,” Mr. Yagi says. “It allows them to exceed a natural human lifespan. But in order to draw that power, they require a conduit of some kind. Some are lucky enough to find a location that’s been consumed, in whole or in part, by the world between. Others must create their own.”

“What do you mean?” Keigo asks. “Like – well, shit. No wonder they keep coming back.”

Mr. Yagi nods. You feel like you missed something. “What?”

“The ghosts summoned by conjurers act as their conduits to the world between,” Mr. Yagi says. “When a ghost embodies itself permanently, the conduit is closed. A powerful enough conjurer will have summoned and bound many ghosts, and the loss of one or two will not trouble them. But weaker conjurers don’t have the ghosts to spare. When they lose a conduit, they come to investigate. And to punish.”

“Eri’s conjurer was weaker than the others,” you realize. “If Spinner’s right, and he was Magne’s and Atsuhiro’s too, then he lost three ghosts. He would have had to do something –”

“And he probably thought it was going to be easy until Hizashi murked him,” Keigo says. “I don’t think they even found out his name.”

“It was Chisaki Kai,” you say. “He was on the list. And he’s not the only one. Akaguro Chizome is dead, too. Do you know who killed him?”

“It is possible to kill conjurers,” Mr. Yagi says, noticeably avoiding your question. “However, it’s highly dangerous, as the conjurers are capable of harnessing ghostly power through their conduits to the world between. Humans who try to kill them often fail. I assume this Hizashi is a former ghost?”

“Probably the ghostliest former ghost, other than my idiot,” Keigo says. “If I was ranking power levels on the street, he and Dabi would be the strongest. If we’re counting former ghosts. We’ve only got one real ghost left.”

“You’ve been to my house,” you say to Mr. Yagi. “Is he really that strong?”

“Almost incalculably strong,” Mr. Yagi says. You’re weirdly proud of Tomura. “Given his presence, I’m not surprised your neighborhood has such a high concentration of ghosts. Unfortunately, such a high concentration poses a risk.”

“No, he blocks us,” Keigo says, frowning. “He blocks all of us.”

“I’m sure he does,” Mr. Yagi says. “What I mean is simply that if a conjurer discovers one of you, all of you will be compromised.”

He’s right. You hadn’t thought of that, and based on Keigo’s expression, neither had he – but Mr. Yagi is right. If a conjurer makes it past Tomura’s aura to investigate, they’ll find out that the neighborhood contains half a dozen former ghosts. “Do they talk to each other? Conjurers?”

“Some do,” Mr. Yagi says. “But all of them are able to sense the presence of ghostly power, just as ghosts are. If one finds your neighborhood –”

“We’ll just kill him,” Keigo says. “Problem solved.”

“Problem not solved. If we just kill some guy, our neighborhood will be his last known location,” you say. You’re not a lawyer, but after three years as Mr. Yagi’s paralegal, you know your way around a murder case. “We’d look guilty. And not everybody in the neighborhood can stand up to direct questioning. If the police show up we’d be in a lot of trouble.”

“We can get out of that,” Keigo says, waving his hand and accidentally attracting the attention of a server. “Now that I’ve met your boss, I know a good lawyer. Hi! We’re definitely ready to order.”

Keigo can put away food like there’s no tomorrow, but Mr. Yagi’s a slow eater, and your appetite’s taken a hit. Mr. Yagi notices. “Are you all right, my dear?”

“I’m worried,” you say. “Aizawa gave me those names yesterday, and Hizashi asked about them again this morning. Neither of them were taking no for an answer. It seems urgent. I think there’s a chance we’ve already been caught.”

“We’ve been caught. You haven’t been caught.” Keigo waves a piece of fried chicken at you. “You’ve got a live ghost. If a conjurer shows up, you’re the only person on the street who doesn’t have to worry.”

“That depends on the conjurer,” Mr. Yagi says quietly. “Conjurers lose ghosts for one reason and one reason only – permanent embodiment. Ghosts don’t embody themselves permanently without reason, and if Tomura’s conjurer were to suspect that Tomura might consider it, their wisest move would be to remove the reason why he would.”

“You’re saying Tomura’s conjurer might try to kill me,” you say. Mr. Yagi nods. “That would be stupid of them. He’d never embody himself. He likes being a ghost.”

“You sure about that?” Keigo eyes you over the rim of his soda. “I wouldn’t be. Since you two hooked up –”

“We didn’t hook up,” you say. There’s no world in which kissing constitutes hooking up. You’re not even all that sure Tomura knows what sex is, and you really don’t want to talk about it in front of your boss. You turn to your boss, pretending Keigo isn’t there. “I’m guessing a conjurer wouldn’t stop to ask. He’d just kill me. Right?”

“Yes.” Mr. Yagi sighs. “By that token, you’re perhaps the unsafest of all.”

“It’s a waste of time to decide who’s safest and unsafest,” you say. “If a conjurer shows up we’re all in trouble. Either Hizashi and Aizawa think somebody’s found us already, or – I don’t know. Maybe they’re trying to track where the other conjurers are?”

“That sounds right,” Keigo says. “If we monitor them, then we can figure out if they’re getting close, and kill them away from the neighborhood so nobody gets suspicious.”

“Let’s speak a little more quietly about this,” Mr. Yagi implores. People are starting to stare at the three of you. “Engaging with the conjurers this way should be your last resort. Stay hidden at all costs.”

“What if we have to kill someone in order to stay hidden?”

Mr. Yagi gives Keigo a look. “I’ve stayed hidden for fifteen years. Do you mean to tell me that you can’t hide better than an old man like me?”

The challenge is enough to silence Keigo on the issue – that issue, and only that issue, for the rest of lunch, until his work phone chimes. He drops his credit card on the table and bolts, and you and Mr. Yagi both stare at it for a moment. “Is he buying lunch?”

You think about some of Keigo’s bullshit today. “Yes.”

With Keigo gone, you seize the opportunity to go into a little more depth with your research. “With Kiriyama Yoichi, I need to do some more reading. Since Akira stole his brother’s name for his new identity, I’m guessing he stole a name from somebody he knew in the Kiriyama identity to generate the next alias. I’m not sure who it is, but it’ll help to find them. They almost certainly left a bigger paper trail than he has.”

You contemplate the stack of papers, then think about what your work inbox looks like. “There’s no way I can get this done before the end of the day.”

“Take it home,” Mr. Yagi says. You nod. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Please.”

“My son, Izuku, is very good at projects such as this one,” Mr. Yagi says. You’ve met Izuku. He’s simultaneously the friendliest and the most intense kid on the planet. “You won’t need to give him much background information, and he’s on summer break. Both of you can read over the information and share conclusions. Two heads are better than one.”

You nod. “In addition,” Mr. Yagi continues, “there are conjurers who do not engage in the practice of binding spirits. I’ll reach out to my contacts there and see what they know.”

“Thank you,” you say. Mr. Yagi nods, taking the last sips of his tea. “Sir, um – why are you helping me? I know I’ve been difficult the last few months. I’ve been slow. And this morning, I –”

“I’ve had no concerns with your work. And I knew all about your office demeanor when I hired you.” Mr. Yagi cracks a small, skeletal grin. Then his expression softens. “As for why I would help you, there are three reasons. First, because it’s the right thing to do. Second, because I care for you. And third, because it would have helped my wife immensely to have met someone who could explain the nature of these things, rather than having to find out on her own.”

“Oh,” you say. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say. Probably not that he cares about you, but it’s true, isn’t it? He’s the nicest boss you’ve ever had, and his first reaction to seeing Tomura’s marks on you was to offer to help. Even if you felt judged. Maybe the feeling of being judged was just you. “Thank you, sir. It means a lot.”

Mr. Yagi nods. “Be careful,” he tells you. “This world is more dangerous than you realize.”

You could take that as paternalistic, patronizing, if you wanted to. You’ve never doubted that the world of ghosts and conjurers was a dangerous one. The first time you learned of Tomura’s existence, it was because you saw him kill something, and even if everyone else on the street is incredibly blasé about it, you never let yourself forget the kind of neighborhood you live in. It’s almost a relief to hear Mr. Yagi’s reminder. “Don’t worry, sir,” you say. You aren’t scared of Tomura these days, but careful of the rest? Careful you can do. “I will.”

Warm

You don't know exactly how you got to this point, with your boss hovering above you, leaving gentle yet messy kisses along your jaw and neck. But here you were. Maybe it had to do with something with you messing with him on while he was heavily focused in a game he was playing. But all you did was sit next to him and played with his hair. Hell, even then, you questioned yourself. 'How did I end up in this situation?' Your boss, Shigaraki Tomura, would have never let anyone so close to him, much less touch him. And yet, you were there, sitting inches away from your shoulder touching his own. With your hand running through his messy light blue locks. 

Let's start from the beginning, shall we? It starts with you, first joining the League Of Villains. You were asked to join because of your useful quirk. You had the power to create shadow versions of yourself, multiple at once. You could also travel through the shadows with ease. Made it easier to get in and out of places without being seen. You didn't get along with most of the members, and you really didn't like your new boss. He was basically a man child, a man who had a snappy attitude who threw tantrums whenever he didn't get his way. 

He pissed you off, he annoyed you. And it's not like he liked you any better. He liked your quirk more than you. He found your quirk more use to him than your actual self. If he could, he'd just use your quirk and leave you to rot. But, unfortunately he could not do that. So he was stuck with you. Yes it seems you were in quite the situation, hating everyone you worked with, including your bitch of a boss. 

However, as the weeks turned to months of missions upon missions, you found that not all of them were that bad. Toga was a good friend despite her overall creepiness. Twice always made you laugh. Spinner had surprisingly good taste in music. Mr. Compressing was actually nice to you. Kurogiri was there whenever you needed to talk about something that was on your mind.  And Dabi, well, he was just a good dude to get high with every now and then. 

But Shigaraki? He was still the same, an ass. To you and to everyone else. There was no way you could ever respect someone like him, boss or not. That is, until one mission, you two were sent out together. Great. A while mission. Just the two of you. The two members who hated each other the most. This could only go badly. 

But to your surprise the mission had gone good so far, you didn't run into too much trouble, you were still alive, and you were about to end the mission after getting what was needed. You would count this mission as a success. Or you would have, if not for the accident. 

You were injured, and nearly caught by a pro hero. You could use your quirk to escape due to their own quirk. It repressed other's quirks to near nothingness. You felt useless, you were alone. This was it, you wee done for. And then that's when your heard it, the anguished screams of the hero above you as he turned into dust. You look up from the ground to see your boss, Shigaraki holding the hero's head before it completely dusted. Shigaraki shook his hand free from the dust before turning his attention to you. You couldn't read his expression due to the hand he wore on his face. 

He said nothing as he approached you, he just, stared at you for a while before finally speaking. "Can you stand?" He asked. You blinked before attempting to bring yourself to a stand. You did, but felt so lightheaded that you began to tumble. Before you could fall, Shigaraki caught you by the waist. He was careful as he wrapped your arm around his neck for support before walking. "I don't know if you'll make it back to HQ at this speed." He muttered. "Can you still use your quirk?" 

"I'll try." You say before creating a shadow portal from beneath you. The two of you sank down into darkness, and within seconds, you were right back inside of the League's hideout. Just that alone seemed to have completely exhausted you. You fell unconscious in Shigaraki's arms.

Only to awake later in your room. You sat up in your bed, just in time to hear Shigaraki's voice again. "Slow down. You'll reopen your wound." You look to the side to see him leaning against a wall. The hands he wore were gone, you could finally see his face. Still unreadable. "Why do you care?" You ask bitterly, looking away from him. You cursed yourself as you remembered your state of weakness. And in front of him of all people. "Because I don't want someone useful to me to die." That answer only made you more upset. "Please, as if you care what happens to me. All you care about is my quirk." 

Shigaraki said nothing to this before he started to make his away to your bedroom door. You watched, noticing the limp in his stride. 'Don't ask. Just let him leave.' You thought to yourself. Halfway to your door, he nearly tripped, hissing out in pain. You sigh. "And what happened to you?" Shigaraki looked at you. "Nothing." 

"That doesn't look like nothing." You raise an eyebrow. "You got hurt too, didn't you? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why do you care?" Shigaraki mocks your earlier question. Why do you care? You don't. He's a grown man, he can take care of himself. And yet, you found yourself getting out of bed, risking hurting yourself more just to check on him. "Sit down." You say, grabbing his wrist and leading him to your bed. He didn't make too much fuss as he did so. "It's your leg right? That's where it hurts?" You move your hand over his leg, looking up at him for a moment before going any further. Shigaraki rolled his eyes. "Go on. You're wasting my time." You shot him a look before moving his pantleg up. And there it was, a large cut on his calf. 

"Why didn't you do something about this earlier dumbass!?" You snap. "This could get infected!" Shigaraki looked a bit surprised for a brief moment. "I was too preoccupied with a half dead woman." He glared at you. "That doesn't matter, you're our boss, our leader. What if something happened to you? We'll all be directionless!" 

"It's fucking cut, I'm not going to die." Shigaraki tells you. "Infections can lead to death moron." You say firmly. "Just, go get it fixed before it actually does get infected alright?" 

"For someone who hates me, you sure are acting worried." Said Shigaraki. "It doesn't matter if I hate you or not, you're still our leader. I'd feel responsible if something happened to you while on that mission." You say. "I don't want that responsibility so, just go already." You then gave him a questionable look. "And I can say the same for you. If you hate me so much, why bother staying here in my room for who knows how long just to check if I wake up or not?" 

"Like I said, I don't want anyone useful to me dying." Said Shigaraki bluntly. You scowl. "I'm not useful, just my quirk, right?" 

"No." Shigaraki says firmly. "I need every single one of you to accomplish my goal. It's a long long ways away. I can't afford to loose anyone right now, that includes you. Your quirk helps, but it's nothing without it's host." You could have sworn his words sounded genuine. But, there was no way, right? Why would a villain care about others, even if they are on the same side? Shigaraki is nothing but a cold heartless monster. Right? 

You looked down at his wound again. "Just, go get this taken care of." 

Things were weird between you two since that day. You couldn't get Shigraki's words out of your head. There was no way he meant what he said. That's what you thought, until he actually proved it to you. You had caught the eye of a rival villain group, your quirk had proved useful to them. And so, they were willing to pay quite the penny for Shigaraki to hand you over, no questions asked. But Shigaraki wasn't having it. 

"Fuck off, she's not for sale." Shigaraki said as he swats the money out of the man's hand. "What? You think I just give my people away like that? Screw you. Now get the fuck out of my sight before I dust your asses. I should anyway, you've wasted enough of my time already." You could believe what you were hearing. And neither could the leader of the rival group. Unsatisfied with the outcome, he decided he would take you by force. But again, Shigaraki wasn't having it. 

The fight didn't last very long, and it ended with Shigaraki's foot on the chest of the leader as he stood over him. Shigaraki removed the hand from his face, he smirked as he glared down at the man. "Game over, shit stain." He said before dusting him. You just watched, surprised by his actions. 

That night, you went to look for him. Kurogiri informed you that he was in his room, and even advised you not to disturb him. But you needed to talk to him, now. You made your way to his bedroom and knocked on his door. There was no answer. After waiting for several seconds, you opened the door yourself only to be met with total darkness. The only light source coming from the TV inside. "Who the fuck is there?" Shigaraki grumbled as he paused his game. "It's me." You tell him as you took a step into the room. 

There was silence for a moment before he spoke again. "Come on then, don't just stand there." Surprised, you shut the door behind you and walked in before shutting the door behind you. Trying to follow the light to make your way to his bed. Once you reached it, you stopped and looked at him. Now you were at a sudden loss for words. "What?" Shigaraki glanced at you. "Don't tell me you interrupted my game just to stare at me all night." 

"No, that's not why I'm here." You tell him. "Then what it is it?" He asked. "I just...earlier today. Did you really mean what you said?" Shiagraki was quite for a moment. "What did I say?" He asked. "That I wasn't for sale? That you don't just give your people away?" 

"Of course I meant it." Shigaraki tells you, as if you should already know. "Did you really think I was about to give you up for a quick buck?" You went silent, really thinking it over. Did he really mean it? Did he really care for his own people? You didn't have time to question him again before he was holding a second controller towards you. "Sit down. This game is better with two people anyway." 

Wordlessly, you took the controller and sat down next to him. You watched as he played the game, not really paying much attention to your side of the screen. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he wasn't heartless. 

"You suck at this." 

But he was still a bit of a jerk.

"I wasn't even paying attention!" You defend yourself. "And why weren't you?" Asked Shigaraki. You look away from him. "Just start it over. I'll kick your ass this time." 

Soon after, it would always be like this. With you, being in his room. Playing games with him. Your were quick to find out that he did not do this for just anyone. So why you? You didn't know, and maybe you didn't want to know. Because this, whatever this was, felt so natural. You liked it. He even let you win a few times, which was way out of character for him. He was being, nice? Yeah, nice, to you. 

And...you liked it. 

And then somehow, you ended up where you are now. 

You sigh a moan as he traveled further down your jaw to your neck. His rough lips felt surprisingly nice on your skin. He kissed and nipped at your flesh a few times, very time, would gain another pleasurable little noise from you. He liked it, he wanted more. He wanted to hear you more and more. You could feel his hand slip up your shirt, his four fingers just barely touching the base of your breasts before you stopped him. 

"W-Wait, Shigaraki...Wait." 

He stopped, looking up at you. "Something wrong?" He asked. Even that, stopping when you asked, asking what was wrong...why? You looked at him, heart pounding in your chest, your body begged him to continue but your head saying otherwise. "We can't, I don't think I can..." Shigaraki was quick to remove himself from you. "Sorry." He said quietly. You sat up and put a hand to your chest. "No it's not you. I promise it's just...What is this?" 

"What?" Shigaraki looked at you, his hair nearly covering his eyes. Something you've grown to find cute over the last few days. "This. What are we doing? We're not even...I mean. I know villains shouldn't care about this kind of thing. It's not that big of a deal but, to me, to me it is." Shigaraki took a moment before answering. "You don't want this." 

"No, it's not that I-"

"No." Shigaraki cut you off. "You don't want what I am. I'm...a lot. You shouldn't want more than...this." He waved his hand between the two of you. "Why?" You tilt your head slightly. "What?" Shigaraki asks. "Why wouldn't I want you?" 

"I told you, I'm a lot." 

"A lot of guys are." You try to joke. 

"No, I mean, why would anyone want me? Look at me, I'm surprised you even let me touch you." 

You furrow your brows. Did he really think so lowly of himself? You scoot closer to him. "I let you touch me, because I wanted you to touch me. I stopped you because, well, I..." You took a breath. "I like what we have. I don't want it to be ruined by doing something we might regret." Shigaraki leaned in a little. "I wouldn't regret it...would you?" You stared at his lips, then into his eyes. "I don't know. I'm...scared. But, I want it, I want you." 

"Even if I'm...me?" Shigaraki asks you, his lips inches away from yours. "Yes." You breathed. "Ever part of you." The two of you closed the gap, you sigh as he deepened the kiss. But pulled away just as fast. "I won't go any further, not unless you want me to." You chased after his lips. "I want you to, I don't know what might happen after but, just for tonight...let me have you." Shigaraki pulled you in close to kiss you again. 

Once more you found yourself on you back. Shigaraki pulled away to take off your shirt, leaning back down to leave a trail of kisses on your chest and breasts. He brought a careful hand up to cup one of them, causing you to whine as he moved his thumb across your perky nipple. His mouth around your other, tongue flicking it over. You squeezed your legs around his hips, grinding up against him. He groaned before he pulled away, he kissed down your stomach to the top of your shorts. He tore them off of you along with your underwear. You felt his hot breath on your entrance. 

You watched him as he spread apart your folds before licking up from the base of your pussy to the top of your clit. You threw your head back, eyes shut tight. Your hands shot down to his hair, pulling him in closer so you could grind onto his face. He hummed in delight as he ate you out, thumb rubbing at your clit at a ever quickening pace. 

"Shit! Shiggy! Just like that!" You moaned loudly. Shigaraki groaned as his hips rutted against the bed to get some sort of friction. The sounds coming from Shigaraki eating out your pussy made you squirm in the best of ways. Ever slick squelch filled the dark quiet room. Just as you were about to hit your high, he pulled away, a trail of slick following his mouth. 

"Damn it, why?" You whine. Shigaraki licked his lips clean before removing his shirt. "Don't worry, you'll get to cum...I promise." He chuckled darkly. You barely heard him as you gazed at his figure. Skinny, thin, you could practically see his ribcage. But damn, if he wasn't sexy in his own way. Every scar, mole, any imperfection, you found so beautiful. You were snapped out of your thoughts as you felt him grinding against your bare cunt. You let out a sharp gasp. "You fell that?" He asked. You looked down at his large erection in his pants. "You did that. Now you're gonna do something about it." 

Oh fuck yes. You sat up, not needing to know what to do next. You crawled towards him and palmed at his erection. He placed his hand on yours. "Beg for it." He demanded. "Please..." You begged. "I want it, I want it in my mouth. Please Shiggy." He smirked before removing his pants and boxers. Shit. You nearly came at the sight of it. He was very thick around, but he made up for it in length. You wrapped your hand around his dick, pumping it a few times before placing the tip at your lips. You kissed it before swirling your tongue around it. You heard Shigaraki groan before he placed his hand behind your head. 

He pushed your forwards, taking the almost the whole thing into your mouth. "That's it baby. Take it like a good girl." You whined before bobbing your head up and down, hand pumping what couldn't fit. You almost gagged a few times as the tip hit the back of your throat. Shigaraki threw his head back. "Fuck yes. Taking it like a good little slut." You whined again at his words, moving a hand down to rub at your clit. 

"Ah! Take that hand away before I take my cock out of that pretty little mouth. And leave you with fucking nothing." You quickly move your hand away. Shigaraki thrusted into your mouth, lids batting as tears started to roll down your cheeks. "Aw, is it too much for you? You can take it, I know you can." He said as he continued to thrust. Soon you didn't have to bob, he was doing it pretty much for you as he fucked your face. 

"Shit!" He pulled your head away just as he was getting close. You coughed a few times, before panting heavily. Again, you were given nothing. "Shiggy..." You pant. "Sorry, are you ok? That was a lot, huh?" Shigaraki cupped your face. You smile. "I'm ok." Shigaraki smiled as well. "Good, now lay back for me ok?" 

You nod before laying on your back, legs spreading open for him. Shigaraki was once again on top of you, lining up with your entrance. He looked at you, you gave him a nod telling him you were ready for him. He nods back before slowly pushing himself into you. You clutch at the sheets as you felt him fill you up to the very brim with his length. "Oh fuck. Shiggy, please, please move." You begged breathlessly. Shigaraki huffed as he gripped onto your hips, he thrusted harshly into you, quickening his pace with each time. 

You clenched down onto him as he brushed against that oh so sweet spot deep within you, causing him to groan loudly. He caught himself as he leaned down, groaning and moaning into your ear, panting heavily as his thrusts became more and more uneven and sloppy. He was close, and so were you. "Yes! Shiggy, right there! Please!" Shigaraki pounded harder, faster into your quivering cunt. Just as you were about to hit your high, he bit down onto your neck with a heavy groan. It was just enough to send you over the edge with a loud cry of his name. 

Shigaraki wasn't far behind, with a few more hard trusts he came inside of you, filling you up more. He grinds into you to ride out his orgasm before slowing to a still. He moves away from your neck and looks down at you, what he saw made his heart skip a beat. Your fucked out expression, mouth slightly parted as you panted, red faced, tears in the corners of your eyes. You looked so cute like this. He chuckled before slowly pulling out, making you whine at the loss. 

He shifted to lay next to you, bringing you in close to him. "Think you'll still regret this?" He asked. "Cause I sure as fuck don't." You look up at him. "Well, that depends...do you want this? More than just what we did?" You ask. Shigaraki moved a strand of hair from your face. "You're asking me to be your boyfriend, right?" You blush slightly as you nod. "If you don't want to then-"

"It's not something I'd normally do, you know? Be someone's partner in a romantic way." That made your heart ache. But what he said next made you hopeful. "But, you're something else you know that? You...you make me feel things I didn't know I could feel." His eyes met yours as he spoke. "If you really want me, then, I want you too." 

You smiled as you brought a hand up to his cheek. "Yes, I want you." Shigaraki smiled as well. "Then, you have me." He said before leaning down to kiss you deeply. 

For the first time, Shigaraki Tomura didn't feel cold. He didn't feel dead inside. Instead, he felt something he didn't know was possible for him to feel. And it was thanks to you, that he finally felt warm...

INDIGESTION • [FNAF: Help Wanted 2 Blender Animation]

''Soo banned.. I should just turn off the lights myself'' HELP WANTED 2 IS GROOVY And sassy sun lives rent free in my head so why not make one of those groove-tacularitarily voice lines come to life Today's lesson: INDIGESTION :), keep eating those art supplies to find out what it is! Also happy late birthday to Security Breach! See this as a half-sb-birthday animation

Credits - Daycare attendant models were made by Coolioart This animation was made in Blender 2.9 by me The FNaF Franchise was originally created by Scott Cawthon (And this game obviously by Steelwool Studios) Epic and amazing voice acting as always by Kellen Goff (Must've had alotta fun with this game) donut steel

Adhd*

as a fellow gal with ADHD, please consider: shiggy/hyper & easily distracted gf

Oh man, I think it would drive him crazy. Shigaraki is so hyper focused and determined, and he’s obviously somewhat organized and skilled at bringing things together.

Those of us with ADHD (especially untreated) tend to be a bit scatterbrained and easily distracted. Could you imagine sitting through a long, grueling meeting with the league, and you just find yourself staring at the wall, daydreaming? You’re trying to listen, you really are, but every once in a while, he says something that sends your mind on a tangent and it becomes almost impossible to listen?

Anytime you have to read over recon or reports, you have to do it about 8 times because even though your eyes are scanning over the words, your head is totally somewhere else. It’s just not digesting the words. Sometimes you have to quiz yourself (or have him do it for you) to make sure you absorbed the information.

And sleeping next to him? Oh man.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“You’re twitching your leg again.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it.”

“Well stop! You’re shaking the whole bed!”

“I’m trying! I start doing it subconsciously.”

“Well knock it off. I’m trying to focus.”

“Okay.”

...........

...........

“You’re doing it again!”

He’d have to check in on you and make sure you’re not getting sidetracked while you work. He even has to pay extra attention to where you put things because you have a tendency to lose track of stuff.

“Did you see where I put my phone?”

“I saw you with it two minutes ago.”

“I know. I can’t remember where I put it.”

“Did you check your pocket?”

“Yes, Tomura, I’m not stupid.”

“What about the counter?”

“Already looked.”

“And what about the bathroom where you went right before you lost it?”

“....huh.”

“Idiot.”

Even when he’s looking right at you, he’s not entirely sure you’re listening. Sometimes he asks you to repeat what it is he just said just so he can be sure. Your impulsive nature doesn’t necessarily help matters. He thinks if you spent half as much time working as you did daydreaming, you might have destroyed society on your own by now.

“What the hell are you looking at?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at the counter for 10 minutes. You’re barely blinking.”

“Oh. I was just wondering what it would be like to have a quirk like Hawks. You know, like flying and stuff? Do you think he ever gets bugs in his teeth? And what about going down, do you think his stomach does the flippy thing or do you get used to it? Also, do you think he needs to like, brush his wings? You know when you get a few hairs parted on the wrong side and it feels weird? You think you get that with feathers? And since he’s birdlike, you think he lays eggs or-“

“You know what? I’m sorry I asked.”

Yeah, it would drive Shigaraki crazy sometimes. But even though he’ll never tell you this, he thinks it’s cute, and he doesn’t mind it nearly as much as he pretends he does. Plus, he’s more than happy to help keep you organized and remember things you might have forgotten. It’s a minuscule price to pay to be with you, and something he’d probably do anyway.

[ 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.

Anything for our god Tomura 🤌

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

Let Me Forgive You

S6 Shigaraki Tomura/GN Reader SMUT 18+

Word Count: 3.6k

AU where Tomura wins in the war arc and comes back 'home' to his beloved. Though, they have mixed feelings it seems. Tomura will fix that. It is absolute filth yall.

WARNINGS: 18+, toxic obsessive/possessive god complex Tomura!!!!, pretty desperate Tomura too, vulgar, some violence, manipulation, guilt tripping, degradtion, sprinkle of praise, name calling, dom/sub, master/pet(?), darcyphilia, grinding, some fingering/cunniligus, spit, drooling, vaginal penetration, Tomura's monster cock

Notes: Just a little something to start it off. I TRIED TO NOT go too crazy. tried very hard to not use (Name) constantly, resorted to just pet names. LOTS OF 'PET'.

The sudden rush of the man's heart beating once again was an electrifying experience, Tomura recalled. Feeling his blood pumping in his veins, along with his body burning with complete power pulsating in his system. The change to Shigaraki Tomura was intense, everything he once was being gone and replaced. Full control over his quirk, All For One now at his disposal too.

Shigaraki would put it as being reborn.

His eyes had snapped open, on the floor of the Doctor's cold lab. Rudely awakened. A hero who kneeled at his side as he had sat up. The first sacrifice for their new god it seems. That hero was only the beginning to his gnarly blood shed. The first to fall to his new power.

The one to start his thirst for turning those heroes into dust or a bloody pulp.

Tomura had a goal he was going to meet, have hero society destroyed and all kneel before him. He will be the one to make them all pay, they will pay for those they left to drown in the curelity of this world.

He may had not been finished with evoling into the form that was planned to take and his army ambushed but Tomura was not going to allow it to hold him back. Pesky heroes always wanting to play unfair. To play dirty. He would show them how such didn't even matter, they only brought their death sooner.

Tomura would demonstrate what he was capable of even just at seventy five percent and that he is an unstoppable force.

And, so he did. Their war destroying the majority of the city. Many falling left and right on both sides, villians and heroes. Tomura ridding those in his way, his league doing their part.

All the heroes attacks were futile. They simply slowed Tomura down if anything. In the end, it was them who fell to their demise. Most laying in the rubble of the city or body ceasing to exist.

Tomura had stood there proudly, blood smearing his body along with sweat and dirt. His tight suit and flaring cape ripped, exposing skin and wounds that were regenerating quickly. Thinking everything that had happened to get to this point.

Tomura had done it. He had won. It took on all those opposed and crushed them. He grinned manically, the smile splitting across his face before bursting out in laughter and arms out. Feeling on top of the world, even beyond that. It was all his. All. His. Tomura deserved what is rightfully his.

Which included, his beloved little pet. Tomura had kept his play thing waiting so long, locked away in a safe house on the outer edge of the city. Away from any possibility of getting involved or, god forbid, to be hurt. How could he protect them while he was away, Tomura would never leave them all alone. Especially with his 'comrades', he doesn't trust any of them with his play thing, who knows what those assholes from the liberation would do.

The only member that knew their exact whereabouts was Skeptic, since he was the one that had been monitoring them the entire time with his technology. Tomura knew that twig wouldn't do anything after the way he threatened him.

His beloved had to stay safe, to stay put. After successfully destroying hero society, he was instantly heading straight for them. His army confused as to where he was going, thinking a celebration was in order. Dabi had even piped up about it. Tomura simply smiled at them over his shoulder, saying to start celebrating without him, that it is well deserved. Explaining vaguely that he still had business to attend to.

His business being them. He needed them so badly, Tomura had the most raging hard on pressing against his suit. All the excitement from the violence turned into a different... excitement. His thick cock pushing and rubbing against the resteicting material, needing their attention. He couldn't stand another second away.

Tomura was quick to get to the safe house, having projected himself through the air with his air canons quirk. The door instantly unlocking as he approached it and he allowed himself in. The house was nothing but the best, larger than most and as comfortable as possible given the circumstances.

He wasted no time, striding straight to their room he had set up for them. A room for them to share when the moment had came. The door slightly agape, soft light peaking through. Tomura could hear a voice though, heart rate picking up and slamming the door right open. The knob breaking in a hole into the maroon colored wall.

There they were. His prize sitting on the slightly tosseled bed, the lighting soft and dimmed. Their head facing him and their own eyes wide. He noticed they were... teary. The news on the TV, reporting on the success of Tomura's battle. Counting the death toll, the faces of heroes that fought appearing next to the reporter. That green haired brat even there, Tomura had put a painful end to him. It showed all the destruction and the impact the war had.

Though, the man barely had given it any mind.

He grinned with a piercing gaze, "I have returned, did my little pet miss their master?". The torn up cape fell to the floor, having unclipped it, as he moved closer but his pet backed away on the bed, slightly curling in on themself.

The look on their face wasn't what he expected to see. It was fearful, they looked horrified. As if he was a threat to them. Tomura stopped in place, "what's that look for?... aren't you happy to see me? after all this time.".

They had instantly looked away. Head moved to the side. "Tomura.. you.. you did it" They murmured out.

"Of course I did it but look at me and answer my fucking question. What's that damn look for?" Tomura spat in response. The other slowly turned their gaze back to him. They were silent for a moment, then they spoke, "you killed... so many innocent people, you killed kids, Tomura".

His fists instantly balled up at his side.

"I was all for your plan, I never doubted you.. but I didn't realize.. I didn't want this, I can't do this" They continued, a hand holding their face as tears welled up and spilled. All Tomura saw was a pathetic display, he was aware his pet wasn't like him. They were still soft on the inside. They had a sense of humanity left, the opposite of Tomura.

However, even then as they voice their displeasure with his actions, Tomura's boner kept strong. Their tears even fueled him. The poor thing is simply confused, he'll help them come to their senses and fast since he cannot stand not fucking them any longer. He needed his little power up. Tomura took a deep breath, sitting on the bed. Back facing them.

"(Name). It was all for the greater good. I wouldn't have done any of this if it had no results, no purpose. It was up to me to make the difficult decisions that no one else could make" His voice was gentle, smooth even. They listened intently. "It was society's punishment, I am their consequences. I did what I was set on this world to do and I thought you understood that, I thought you understood... me".

They jumped up at Tomura's words, panicking from the realization that they have mispoken. Facing him and reaching to him. "No no, of course I understand, I get why you did this, please, I really do-" but Tomura moved away from their touch, standing and crossing his muscular arms.

He gave a disappointed look, "you clearly don't and to think I taught you better. You have forgotten who is in the right, I am the one you are suppose to put all your faith, your everything into. I have turned into a fucking god, I decide this world's future, don't you understand that?" his teeth bared as he almost growled out his words.

They whimpered, head bowed, on their knees near the edge of the bed and regretting their words. They can't stand Tomura being upset with them, they should've known better. "I'm so sorry, Master. I understand".

Tomura looked over his shoulder, a smile creeping up on his lips. Maybe they haven't completely forgotten, still, a reminder was in order. He simply hummed.

He faced them, hand with the metal  prosthetic reaching and holding their owm face. Lifting their head to look up at him. The sight made Tomura's crotch throb, the glossy eyes with tears down their cheeks. His breath hitched up.

"Oh, you're sorry, hm? I have been away for months, went through excoriating experimentation and fought a whole war and you make me come back to this. I am more than pissed off with you, brat. I don't fucking deserve this, now do I?".

"No, you don't, Master".

"Exactly. Now, I think it's best for you to make it up to me? Be good and behave for you're new god. Let me forive you. You want my forgiveness, right", Tomura's thumb stroke of their wet cheek, holding himself back from tasting your tears.

They sniffled, nodding their head. Muttering, "of course... my god". That wasn't difficult at all. Tomura almost groaned right then and there. He needed them so badly, they had no idea.

Tomura pushed them down onto the bed roughly, on top of them, hands on either side of their head with white hair hanged over his face. His lover looked him over, eyes glazing over his body. The suit ripped up, showing some skin, his muscles and promiant scars. He was filthy too, sweaty, dirty and dry blood on him. Their eyes went lower and noticed his clear erection. It made their face get hot and the space between their thighs ache.

"It's been so long, too fucking long" Tomura whispered, leaning down and burying his face into the crook of their neck. Taking a deep inhale of their scent, it was comforting to Tomura.

They simply gripped onto the blanket of the bedding, feeling their heart quicken.

His own breathing increasing, the excitement of finally having them all to himself. Tomura's hands moved down their body, gliding along the side of their body to their thighs. Parting them and pressing their bodies together. Metal prosthetic cool on their warm skin. Grip bruising as his hands tightened, the contact making Tomura let out a shaky sigh. His pet whined at such. His cock pressing into their crotch and a shock went through their body.

They could feel that he had... gotten bigger. Though, feeling it simply through his suit made their legs weak. It was going to hurt but even then, they found themself stopping some drool escape their mouth.

Tomura noticed it, his senses so much sharper. He was noticing every little response from them. The small tremors, uneven breathing and noises supressed at the back of tbeir throat. It filled him with such pride. He couldn't help but make a hearty chuckle. Lips to their ear, whispering, "didn't realize how cock hungry you would be. I should've guessed".

They had let soft noises slip out. Their hands finding their place against Tomura's strong chest.

His hips started to move, grinding against them. Rubbing into their pussy that only had thin material to separate them. Tomura could feel the warmth of it, he could already feel himself get drunk on it and he had barely started.

Next thing they knew however, was their clothing being taken off. Exposing their bare flesh to him, panties staying in place. Tomura needing to see the body he absolutely loved to use all up. He held himself up and continued his movement into them, staring at them.

"So damn pretty and you're all mine, all mine for the keeping. Only perfect for me to fucking use. You like that, don't you. You like being used like a doll. Think you made for it, made for me to fuck... Damn it, I've missed this so much" Tomura gritted out.

He suddenly parted his body away, only to move himself lower. Between their spread thighs, panties disgustingly slick. Sticking to them. Tomura absoluty loved it, he loved seeing the effect he had. He gave a manic smile, trailing a finger along it.

"Hm, you filthy slut. Already so wet, how pathetic. You were just crying a moment ago, crying over the deaths these same hands that are touching you caused. Now, they have you soaked. What a joke" Tomura laughed out, before placing his lips against them. Pressing a kiss before licking the fabric.

Tomura's love couldn't stop their trembling. Thighs shaking, threatening to close on his head.

"You're lucky I love this cunt of yours so much, wouldn't even bother with it and let my dick ram it unprepared if I didn't", he pulled the piece down by the elastic, off and threw it to the side, completely vulnerable to him.

Tomura's face stayed close as he began to drag two fingers up and down the slit, torturously slow. His fingers were long and perfect for fingering, he found that out the first time he did it to them. A 'natural' they had put it.

He added more pressure, watching his fingers move against their pussy. Making sure to get the most sensitive spots, like going at their cute attention deprived clit, and let the wetness spread on his hand. After a moment of that, he sank them inside their tight hole. Tomura moaned at the sensation along with (Name).

He wants that to be his cock so bad but he couldn't have his poor toy breaking in a bad way. Tomura wanted to be a good master, not like he would say that outloud.

The man fucked into the others pussy with his deadly fingers, hitting deep and picking up the pace every few seconds. They were making such a disgusting mess, Tomura found it so cute. They couldn't stay quiet with this sorta treatment, his digits making them feel full and it had them close to tears. His dick was going to ruin them.

"That's it, doesn't that feel so much better. This pussy must have been feeling so empty all this time alone, hm. Just wait until my cock's inside you, then you will feel complete" he cruelly said.

Then Tomura pulled his fingers out gave teasing licks, tasting them. His eyes looking up to watch their expressions. Long licks turned into harsh rolling of the tongue and sucks. They squirmed and moaned from such; the state Tomura wants his pet to always be in.

He loved the taste. He loved the scent. He loved the feeling. Shigaraki Tomura loved pussy, he was a certified lover of it he would claim.

Though, he could only do it so long. His boner was painful at that point. Feeling as if it was going to tear through the material of the pants of his suit. Tomura pulled away, a string of saliva connecting from his tongue and them for a second. He stood up to almost rip the suit off of him, undoing it. The belt falling to the floor, upper half off and exposing his new body fully along with his pants pulled down to his mid thigh.

He moaned at the relief.

Tomura's body was insane. More muscles and overall much more defined. They shamelessly stared as they panted. Though, their eyes drifted down and... their heart dropped at the sight of Tomura's cock in all it's glory.

It was monstrous. Larger than they remember, it had to have gotten bigger during the time he was away. It was hot and heavy between his musclar thighs. Tip flushed in a dark color, two or three veins along the shaft, dripping with pre cum with some white pubes that, barely visibly, trailed upwards his stomach. They let the words 'oh my god' slip out.

Tomura ate the reaction up. Grinning darkly as he took a hold of it and gave it a view pumps. He let out breathy sounds before saying, "that's right but hey don't be scared, it won't hurt... that much" laughing out the last two words.

They whined in response, their face burning up. An intense mixture of intimidation and arousal going through them.

"You can suck it another time, slut. Think I am well overdo from being balls fucking deep inside you" Tomura muttered out, grabbing at their body and going back to towering them. In between a standing and leaning over position. He held their thighs once more as he place his dick against them.

His pet watched with wide eyes, trembling violently as they felt to tip nudge at their cunt. They weren't sure wether to cry to just shove it in or that it'll be too much to take.

Tomura was also struggling himself. Struggling to control himself. The small contact of his twitching cock against his little slut's pussy was close to causing him to snap. He isn't that weak, he can't be, how can a god get so worked up.

He kept his cool, jaw slack and muttering a few curses as he rubbed along their needy pussy. Wetness spreading all on it, glistening from it. They were already so wet but he wasn't going to risk anything so Tomura shifted back to spit right between them. The other grimaced.

Tomura held their legs apart, staring intensely between their bodies. His noises becoming even more appreant, groaning and whining as he then moved the tip to push through their little hole.

It was already stretching them open to a point they made a pained sob and Tomura's eye lit up, perking his head up.

"Holy shit, don't you dare hold back those cries from me, you got that. Keep it going. Need to hear you, you're sound so good when you cry like that" he said with such a desperate tone in his voice.

He sank deeper. Sliding in inch by inch. Tomura had just gotten so big that it was unpreparable however. The stretch and ache was painfully pleasurable. It made the other light headed. Tomura drooled from the sensation, eyes rolling up a bit with an almost manic grin once he hit the hilt.

All wrapped up in the hot softness of his lover's insides.

He pushed their legs up for their knees to meet their chest, tits pushing together and it was a view that made his pet feel his cock throb intensely inside them. Tomura whined, rocking right into their warmth. Staying sheathed inside.

"Mm, so lewd. Taking my cock like the obedient whore you are. Bet it feels like I'm splitting you in half but you're pussy is gripping onto it for dear life. Fuck, it's making your Master feel forgiving already... but need more persuasion than this though", with that, he pulled out and slammed right back in. Repeating the movement over and over. Harshly fucking into their body.

His pretty prize made the sweetest noises. Reaching out to him, to hold onto him. In need of his support but Tomura pinned their wrists down.

Strong arms caging them as they laid beneath, having their bodies closer together. Their legs weakly resting on his slender waist. Their body relaxing as kuch as it could, easier for Tomura to ram them.

White hair fell over his eyes as he concentrated on using his pet all up. Catching up on the pleasure he has had set back due to world domination. The slaps of their skin loud and wet. His thrusts harsh and sloppy, too eager to keep up a rhythm. Both shining with a sheen of sweat.

Tomura still ran his mouth as he fucked into them. "Fuck. The perfect reward for your god. Waited too long. Even when those idiots broke me out, being shocked back to life and wiping everyone out, couldn't stop the thoughts of getting to you and fucking you. I could feel how pent up I was, you got no clue how much that took to put that aside. Finally I have you, I've got you. I deserve this, I deserve it all. Everything is mine, you're mine".

He moaned between every few words, which became slurred as he kept pounding into them. His pet was checked out, eyes dazed and on the verge of cumming on his dick. The angle hitting a weakening spot.

Tomura could feel it. Their pussy fluttering and tightening up again. His pace dropped in speed, instead drag his thrusts out to snap deeply back in and savour them. It was definitely making them both melt.

He kept it up before his lover threw their head to the side, making their own breathy moans and cries of his title as their orgasm took over their senses. Tomura lost it as he felt it, arms scooping around their frame and holding them close as he hissed from it. He was going to fill them up. His thrusts became shallow humps, chasing his own climax.

It had happened in the matter of a few more seconds. Cock nestled inside their cunt as he panted, his breathing shaky. Spilling his thick cum deep into them and filling his pet up. It had even leaked out.

Tomura still rocked into then, almost as if he was trying to fuck his cum even deeper into them. He pulled out eventually, sitting up to see the picture perfect view of his lover. All spaced out, twitching and legs shaking as their gods very own cum spilled from their hole, right onto the sheets.

The man grinned, pleased with himself and feeling much more relieved.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to their cheek before softly speaking, "you are forgiven. you will stay behaved from now on, right. Stay good for me". 

Shigaraki Headcanons: Allergies

As a kid, Shigaraki had a ton of allergies. He couldn’t eat a lot of foods, including anything with nuts, certain fruits, and eggs. When AFO took him in, Shigaraki, like any five-year old, would constantly mention his allergies and dietary restrictions to him. AFO blew him off, because allergies aren’t real…  Shigaraki nearly died twice in that week alone. His near-death experiences traumatized him, causing him to refuse any food AFO prepared for him. The only time Shigaraki would eat, is when they got fast food, since Shigaraki remembered being able to eat McDonalds without having an allergic reaction. AFO quickly caved in and bought Shigaraki fast food everyday to keep him from starving. He became a picky eater, but AFO didn’t care enough to correct his habits.

Over time, AFO would spend a small fortune on trying to cure Shigaraki’s allergies through Garaki. Shigaraki was subjected to weekly shots for his allergies and his skin. He only stopped getting the shots when AFO got arrested. By that point, he grew out of most of his allergies anyways.

blind date (shigaraki x reader)

After endless failed attempts to help Tomura up his game, his friends have settled on their last resort: A blind date. Even before you show up, it's not going well. No quirks AU, 2k words.

this was originally in the x reader lovers community, but I figured I'd release it into the wild as well!

Tomura gets being a little late. “A little late” is practically his middle name. He waits until the last minute to do almost everything, and that means any complications mean he’s running behind. Hypocrisy pisses him off so much that he tries to avoid it all costs, so that means he has to put up with it without bitching when somebody else is a little late, too.

Except half an hour isn’t a just a little late for anything, let alone a blind date Tomura didn’t want to go on in the first place. He’s been waiting outside the bar you were supposed to meet at for half an hour, and he’s pissed.

“That’s it,” he says after the eighteenth time a woman his age has walked past and hasn’t been you, whatever the hell you look like. “I’m out of here.”

“Just a little longer, honey,” Magne says. She’s smiling, but she’s also got her arm around Tomura’s shoulders, and if she squeezes any harder, Tomura’s going to pop like a balloon. “She’ll be here.”

“No, she won’t.” Tomura crosses his arms over his chest, tucking his hands in so nothing will bite them. They’re on the waterfront, in the summer, and there are insects everywhere. Whose dumb idea was this? “You showed her a photo of me and she changed her mind.”

“It’s a blind date,” Magne says. Like Tomura’s supposed to know what that means. “She doesn’t know what you look like, either. That’s why you have to stay right here and keep wearing that baseball hat. Otherwise she won’t know it’s you.”

Tomura hates the hat. Right now he hates everything. “So she got here on time, saw me, and left. Can I go?”

Magne shakes her head. “You promised you’d try.”

“I showed up. I waited for fucking half an hour. I’ve tried.” Tomura finally shoves Magne’s arm off his shoulders. “I’m done.”

Tomura wishes he could say he didn’t know how he got here, except he does. One of his friends is getting married, and there’s supposed to be a wild bachelor weekend in Vegas, one last blast of stupid before settling down. Most of the groomsmen are planning to hook up with as many people as possible, and that’s where the problems start. According to his friends, Tomura has no game. Zero game. Negative one hundred game. If he was rolling for his game stat, it would be a critical failure – and none of his friends want to babysit him when they could be getting laid.

Tomura wouldn’t want to babysit when he could be getting laid, either. His solution was to skip the bachelor weekend and just show up for the wedding in his stupid rented suit. But apparently his friends really want him to come to the party, and they decided that what he needed was to get some practice in before the trip. Which means that for the last month, Tomura’s spent every Friday night and weekend getting dragged through his own personal hell.

They made him try dating apps, which were a disaster, even though Tomura let Toga set up his profile and make the first move. Then they tried traditional online dating, which also sucked, because Tomura’s too picky and other people have standards. Hanging out in bars and clubs worked exactly how it’s always worked – it doesn’t – and when Dabi pulled out the big guns and dragged Tomura to the sex club where he met his fiancé, the only people who talked to Tomura were guys. Tomura thought that was sort of a good sign, even though he’s not into men, until he remembered that guys will fuck anything with a hole in it. He’s not high on himself on his best day, but that was a really shitty night.

He thought they were going to quit after that, but his friends had one last ace up their sleeve – a blind date, Magne’s idea, which Toga enthusiastically signed off on when she saw a picture of the woman Magne wanted to set Tomura up with. Toga’s type and Tomura’s type line up, sort of, and Spinner giving the photo two thumbs way up sealed the deal.

It’s not like Tomura was hopeful or anything. He just wanted to get his friends off his back. Still, rejection sucks, and ghosting sucks worse. He’d rather have you show up and tell him to his face that you weren’t interested than stand him up.

Magne collars Tomura again, but her phone starts ringing at the same time, Toga’s contact info popping up. “Don’t go anywhere,” she warns Tomura as she raises the phone to her ear. “We’re here. She’s not here yet. Can you tell him –”

Tomura ducks out from under her arm and books it into the crowd of people on the waterfront, figuring he can make it to the metro stop before Magne figures out which way he’s going. But even that can’t go his way today, because he runs into somebody who’s moving at warp speed in the opposite direction, colliding at the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. Tomura’s not confrontational, but it’s the wrong fucking day. “Can you watch where you’re going? It’s not like you matter to whoever you’re going to –”

“Are you Tomura?”

Tomura’s heart lurches. He stares hard at you as you right yourself, picking up the backpack you dropped in the collision. There’s no way this is happening. There’s no universe in which his blind date would be someone like you.

He can see right away why Toga and Spinner approved of you, but he thought you’d be someone in his league, not somebody who’s several kilometers above it. Maybe Tomura’s too excited that you actually showed up to evaluate what you actually look like. He looks away, then looks back. Nope – you’re still pretty, even though your face is flushed and you’re breathing hard like you’ve just been running. Did you run here to meet him? Only one way to find out. “I’m Tomura.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “My boss held me back at work, and I missed my train –”

You’re wearing some kind of work uniform. Scrubs, maybe. Are you a nurse? “And then I couldn’t decide whether to wait for another train or just run, so I ran – but I don’t really run, so it took even longer –”

Tomura doesn’t run, either. When he was doing the stupid online dating thing, he sorted out everybody who said more than one sentence about working out. You pause to suck down a breath, then keep talking. “I know everything I just said sounds like an excuse, and I know you’re leaving,” you say, “but I was hoping I could catch you so I could say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stand you up. I get it if you want to call it off.”

Before Tomura can answer or even think about what he’s going to say, Magne bursts out of the crowd. “I told you not to run off,” she scolds, collaring Tomura again. “If you don’t stay put, there’s no way she’s going to – oh! You’re here!”

You nod. Magne looks you up and down. “I told you to dress cute,” she scolds. “And to get here on time. I practically had to chain him to a streetlight so he wouldn’t escape.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. “My boss –”

“Of course,” Magne says, scowling. “He’s never met a good time he doesn’t want to ruin.”

Magne knows who your boss is? “How do you to know each other?”

“She’s a pharmacy tech at the place I go to pick up my E,” Magne says. “She’s the only one who works there who isn’t an asshole, and her boss is the biggest asshole of them all. I only go in there when she’s on and he’s off. But let me introduce you the right way. Shigaraki, this is – ”

Tomura misses your name the first time Magne says it, catches it the second time, but it barely registers except as something he probably shouldn’t forget. You’re pretty. You’re not an asshole, or at least you’re the same kind of asshole as Magne and everybody else Magne’s friends with, including Tomura. Your boss is the wrong kind of asshole, which means you probably didn’t blow Tomura off on purpose. And you ran here so you could meet him even when you knew you were really late. You must have really wanted to meet Tomura. What did Magne tell you about him?

Tomura can ask you about that later. “So?” Magne is saying expectantly. “Can I leave you two alone, or are you going to run away again?”

“No,” Tomura says. “You can go.”

You look surprised. “Um –”

“Now.”

Magne cackles. She snatches the hat off Tomura’s head, ruffles his hair, and slaps him on the back hard enough that he staggers. “Have fun! I want all the details later!”

“Sure,” you say, bewildered, as she kisses you on the cheek. Tomura’s going to have to talk to you about that – any details you share with Magne will be fair game for the rest of Tomura’s friends, and he’s not sure how much he wants them to know. “Um, bye.”

Magne waves and vanishes into the crowd. Now it’s just you and Tomura standing on the sidewalk. You shuffle off to one side, out of the way, and Tomura follows you. “Are you sure you still want to do this?” you ask once you’re both leaning against the railing. “I get it if you’re not in the mood. When I’ve gotten stood up, I haven’t wanted to –”

“You’ve never been stood up in your life,” Tomura says, and your expression changes from confused to offended. “Look at you.”

You look down at yourself, then back up at him. “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t know anything about you and I got here on time. If I knew what you looked like beforehand I’d have been two hours early.” It sounded like a compliment in Tomura’s head, but he can’t tell if you’re taking it that way. “People like you don’t get stood up for dates.”

“I wish that were true,” you say. You look away. “I know how it feels. I get it if you don’t want to go out anymore.”

Tomura pretends he’s thinking about it. “How far did you run to get here?”

“Sixteen blocks.”

“You ran sixteen blocks to meet me. That cancels out being late,” Tomura says. You look up, surprised for a second or two before the relief kicks in. “I still want to go out.”

“Me, too,” you say. You smile at him. Women don’t usually smile at Tomura. People don’t usually smile at Tomura. He doesn’t know what to do with it. “Thanks, Tomura. For giving me a chance.”

“Yeah,” Tomura says. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t really know,” you admit. “It’s been a while since I went on a date.”

“Same,” Tomura says. ‘Never’ counts as a while in his book. “I don’t know – grab drinks or something?”

You nod. “Can we find somewhere to sit down for a second first? I don’t usually run that much, and I don’t want to pass out on you.”

“You can pass out on me if you want,” Tomura says. You blink. Tomura facepalms even though you’re looking right at him. “There are benches back there.”

The crowd on the sidewalk is only getting denser. Tomura doesn’t want to get separated from you, so he tells you to hold onto the back of his shirt. You grab his hand instead, and you’re still holding it when the two of you find a place to sit down. Still holding it once you’re both settled, searching for something to talk about. Tomura’s not optimistic about this. You’re too good to be true – the kind of woman who’d run sixteen blocks to meet him and hold his hand is a kind of woman who doesn’t exist. Even so, it’s – nice. Tomura laces his fingers with yours and decides to enjoy it while it lasts.

A new life for Tomura part3