#tomura shigaraki needs a hug | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scorchviox · 2 years

Text

Airhead

pairing: shigaraki x original character

genre: college au

synopsis: The protagonist's best friend sets her up on a date with someone that comes off as unpleasant. To Hibiki's, the protagonist's best friend, satisfaction the two easily warm up to one another.

word count: 8.2k

Hibiki’s saying goodbye to yet another fling.

What she should be doing is coming into the diner and clocking back in so I could get a fifteen-minute break. The diner was practically dead as per usual but leaning against the counter and staring out the window for fifteen minutes isn’t the same as sitting on the other side of the counter picking at the stale fries that sat in the back from earlier this morning. I couldn’t blame Hibiki though; she has always been flamboyant and loveable at first glance. The work uniform works in her favor as well; however, the short, black skirt with a small apron at the center always has me wondering if the owner of this ridiculously run-down establishment was a pervert.

My eyes stray from the large windows and look around the relatively dead diner. Earl, a regular customer, sat in a corner booth with a cup of coffee and technically yesterday’s newspaper in hand. Apart from him there was a wrecked couple sitting on the opposite end of the counter from where I stand, sipping coffee. They were no doubt trying to drink away the undeniable hangover they were going to have in the morning. It wasn’t a surprise to see the good old 24-Hour Diner dead at twelve in the morning on a Monday though.

The small bell at the door finally rings, letting me know a certain someone has finally come in. “About time!” I snap looking up to the door and seeing Hibiki walk in with a smile spread on her plump lips. “I’ve been waiting for my break,” I whine, slumping into the counter.

“Remember I told you about him? Isn’t he so cute?” She swoons, going around the counter and leaning against it right by my side. Her curly, brown hair tickles at my ears as she tilts her head to rest on my shoulder. “He’s such a hottie,” she continues, appraising him in a tone of voice that sounds dreamy. She probably was dreaming, especially by the look of her half-lidded eyes staring out into the parking lot being illuminated by one single lamp post.

“Yeah, sure,” I say with the roll of my eyes. I stand up, causing her to almost drop her head onto the red counter. “I’m taking a break,” I say, already pushing open the greasy, white double doors that lead to the kitchen. Daisuke, the cook, sat on a bucket hunched over and scrolling through his phone with some earphones on. He’s probably just a tad older than Hibiki and me, or so I think. We’ve both seen him around the college campus, but don’t know his exact age. A while back she made a bet that she could get his age out of him before me, but I say she’s already lost that bet. Daisuke is a tight-lipped guy who, for the most part, keeps his personal life to himself. “How are the fries this fine morning?”

Daisuke doesn’t move from his spot. He merely glances at me from the corner of his eye and lets out an amused sound, something between a chuckle and a scoff. It’s that kind of laugh you give a coworker when they say something that’s not amusing at all, “Oh, you know, very delicious. The strips of potato were lightly sauteed in a thick oil until golden around the edges and seasoned with sea salt. It was then garnished with my sweat and tears,” he jokes in that sarcastic way he always does. The lilt in his tone is very much present when he mentions his bodily fluids.

I nod, reaching for a plate and dumping some fries onto it, “That’s…” I pause staring at the sad and soggy fries, “really gross, Dai.” I look up just in time to see him sit up straight and stretch his arms out.

The sounds of his back popping and screaming in utter bliss to be straightened out make me cringe. “That’s not my name,” he groans, standing up and pocketing his phone. The wire of his earphones dangling freely now from the pocket of his jeans. I turn with my plate in hand and see Hibiki with a wide grin just outside the ordering window. Her hand reaching through and handing Daisuke a piece of paper, presumably with an order scribbled on it.

I don’t bother answering him and just walk back out towards the front of the diner and take a seat at the counter. Hibiki leans her elbows on the counter and steals a fry from my plate. “Look over there,” she mumbles under her breath as she discreetly points her fry in the general direction she’s talking about. “Just came in. I jokingly offered him the Two Story Beef Burger and he took it.”

An amused breath leaves my lungs as I look up slightly interested. It’s not every day someone decides to try the disgustingly tall burger Daisuke hates making. There’s that and the fact that I want to see what nutcase orders a five-patty burger at nearly one in the morning. To the right of us sat a man in a booth with his hood up. Tufts of black hair peek out beyond the hood as he stares down at what looks to be a Gameboy Advance. “So that’s what a weirdo looks like,” I whisper to Hibiki as I throw a fry into my mouth.

The conversation doesn’t linger on the man though, Hibiki is quick to turn her attention back to me. “Did you do that lecture quiz for philosophy yet?”

“I haven’t to be honest, wanna do it together?” I reply, taking my phone out of my apron’s pocket. My fingers swipe around the screen until I find the quiz’s portal.

Hibiki seems to be doing the same, her eyebrows knitting together as if merely thinking about the quiz would succumb her to utter pain. “That’s cheating,” she mumbles to her phone, “Bet I can finish it before you though.” Her brow is raised up and smirk dances on her lips, challenging me into yet another round of her bets. She likes betting, but I honestly don’t remember a time where either of us actually paid each other back if we won.

“Ready?” I smile, thumb hovering over the Start Quiz button.

Maybe we’re seen as childish when we do bets like these in public, but it makes things more fun, “Set?” she inquires, that challenging smirk never leaving her features.

“Go!” Simultaneously we press the button and start at the first question. I see her click an answer before I even have time to read the paragraph long question. Dread fills me for Hibiki. Hopefully the idiot actually read the question, bet or not this is her grade. The first question seems threatening due to its length, but the answer comes to me relatively fast.

The quiz takes Hibiki about three minutes to complete and announces it loudly, “I win!” she exclaims happily and dances in place as she holds her phone to her chest in pure giddy.

“Congrats,” I giggle, submitting my own quiz and setting the phone down on the counter. “Bet I got a higher grade than you though,” I challenge looking up at her while chewing on a salty, stale fry.

Hibiki’s green eyes narrow down at me, “Bet,” she replies as if this were the biggest gamble she would ever take apart of. “What’d’ya get?”

I pick up my phone again and unlock it to see my grade. It was a solid eight out of ten. I just know her grade is lower considering how she probably just skimmed the questions instead of reading them in full. Proudly, I put my phone down and show her the screen. “I’m smart,” I smirk with a playful, haughty tone of voice.

“A smart person would drown those sorry excuse for fries in ketchup,” Hibiki’s lips tremble as if trying to hold back a laugh while I turn around and look to see Earl walking to the door. “Have a good shift, girls.”

In a cheery tone we simultaneously say, “Bye, Earl.” We watch the old man leave the diner and keep an eye on him until he’s safely in his car.

Once he’s haphazardly leaving the parking lot in his beat-up Dodge Ram, Hibiki slumps into the counter, “You win that one.”

I look past her and see Daisuke staring at us with a plate set on the order window, “You can interrupt us ya know.”

His shoulders rise and fall as Hibiki takes hold of the plate. On it sat the greasiest burger with fries I will ever see. It honestly looks like Daisuke put in extra effort to douse oil on the poor thing. “Breaks over!” Hibiki grins widely, pushing the heart attack on a plate into my hands. “I’m cashing in my win with this.”

“Um, cashing in?” I ask unintelligibly. My eyes stay on the plate, thinking about what she means. Like I said, we never really paid each other. Not even favors. Then it hits me like a freight train, “Are you scared of him?” I whisper teasingly, referring to the stranger in the booth playing an old game.

For a second, I feel like I’m right, but I know her. The way her eyes shift to the man and her brows raise means something is up. I know that scheming spark in her eye like I know the back of my hand. Her green eyes are wide as she looks back to me, “Okay, okay,” she says in what sounds like defeat. “He’s a friend. I was thinking about the other night. You said you hadn’t gone out since like practically the civil war-”

“Did you just call me old?”

“-and I was like ‘noooo’ when I went to bed,” she continues dramatically without even acknowledging my interruption. “My poor little heart couldn’t take it. Thinking about your love life being washed up at the ripe age of twenty.”

She finally stops and stares at me. Her dramatics even bring tears to her eyes. “What about him? There’s gotta be something wrong with him.”

Her wide eyes blink once, then twice until the sign of tears have disappeared. “He’s antisocial like you. Doesn’t really have any friends.”

“So, you think he’d make a good boyfriend candidate and I have friends!”

Hibiki rolls her eyes and shoves the plate into my hands, “I’m literally your only friend, but I don’t count b‘cuz we’ve been besties since braces.”

I slowly stand and look at the order window to see Daisuke still standing idly by. He’s no doubt enjoying our exchange. “Dai is my friend!” I say a little too loud for the nearly empty diner. The pitiful couple was gone too. They probably made a getaway when Hibiki and I were taking our quizzes.

“Not my name,” Daisuke mentions once again and doesn’t bother to add anything else that would favor me in this position.

Hibiki tilts her head in the man’s direction, “Go. His name’s Tomura. He’s kind of weird, but he’s nice.”

Begrudgingly, I step away from my nearly empty plate of fries and take my first few steps in Tomura’s direction. He still sat staring down at his Gameboy and this up close I could see, as well as hear, he was playing some RPG with odd Egyptian like music. “Hey, Tomura,” I say, greeting him and setting his plate down. I watch the patties slightly shake at the impact, then look to see Tomura isn’t even bothering to look up at me or reply for that matter. I stand there unsure of what to do before turning my head and looking at Hibiki with wide eyes before looking at her so-called friend.

Her eyes are set in a glare as she gives me a nod and juts her chin in his direction. If I didn’t know this weird girl, I wouldn’t have known what she meant.

Sighing, I set my hands on the table and slide into the seat across from him. The cracked red leather digging into my bare legs as I settle myself in and awkwardly stare at the man. “So…uh, Hibiki said you’re antisocial like me, but I think you’re a few levels ahead,” I say jokingly to him in hopes of at least getting a laugh out of him, or something akin to it.

He sets down the pink game console and finally looks up at me. This doesn’t settle my uneasiness though; a shiver runs up my spine and I can practically feel the hair on the back of my neck rise. Tomura’s eye color is so dark I can’t even distinguish where the pupil meets the iris, but that’s not what causes the primitive fear to stir in me. It’s the dark circles around his eyes mixed with what could only be described as a resting bitch face. The guy looks like he hasn’t had a good night’s rest since 2003. His pale hands push his game aside and pull the plate closer to himself. Tomura looks to the huge grease tower before looking to me and raising a brow, “You gonna get me a fork or something? Or do you expect me to Scooby-Doo this thing?”

A mix of embarrassment and utter disbelief rain over me. I slide out of my seat quickly and smooth down the uniform’s skirt as I walk behind the counter.

“How’s it going?” Hibiki whispers as she leans in close to me while I pick out a knife and fork.

I turn to her quickly, “That guy isn’t socialized,” I whisper harshly, “Did his mom not take him out on walks or something? Literally told me if I was gonna get him a fork or something. Girl, the audacity on that guy!”

She clears her throat, obviously fighting back a laugh. “He’s like that. Took him a while to talk to me in class too.”

“And you’re trying to set him up?” I ask wrapping the knife and fork in a napkin. “You’re a horrible cupid. Letting them out without proper training,” I hiss quietly before making my way around the counter. Looking up at him, I see he’s surprisingly not on his game again, rather his cheek is resting in his palm and his tired eyes on me. The pressure I feel because of this makes me walk faster, “Here, sorry,” I say, setting the knife and fork down beside his plate.

I watch him look at the rolled-up utensils before he decides to rip the napkin off with one hard yank. He takes them and cuts a corner of the burger before shoving the meat and cheese into his mouth. “You just gonna stand there or sit down again?” he asks, waving the fork towards the seat in front of him. “At least pretend we’re making happy so Hibiki gets off my case,” he grumbles as he takes a fry to his mouth.

“Then you know about her setting this up?”

Tomura scoffs and rolls those dark eyes of his before he starts working at cutting off another piece of the burger, “Sit down will you? You’re making me nervous.” I mumble a quick apology and sit down in front of him again before he continues. “We’re in the same Women Studies class. She hasn’t stopped annoying me about meeting up with some friend of hers since she decided to sit next to me.” He looks up at me, resting his chin on the back of his wrist and letting the fork dangle in his light grip. Tomura slowly chews the meat, then says, “Wouldn’t think someone as cute as you struggles for a date…Anyway,” he says looking back to his plate for another forkful, “Told her I’d finally do it if I got a plate of food. Timing kind of sucks though. Was s’pose to help my friend raid a dungeon but free food is free food.”

“Ya really know how to make a girl feel special,” I deadpan. My eyes wander from his face down to his plate to see he’s managed to eat a good chunk of the burger. “What game were you gonna play?”

He looks up at me with a raised brow and sits back. Again, his eyes look me over, almost like he was sizing me up or trying to see if I am really at all interested in his game. He is definitely the type of guy who thinks women can’t play video games because they’re marketed towards men more. Either way, anything was better than hearing Hibiki whine later that I didn’t give this a try. “World of Warcraft.”

I nod hearing the name.

Tomura’s eyes narrow, concluding my speculation. He was sizing me up to see if I knew what a game was. “You don’t know it do you?” he asks.

“No, not at all,” I say glaring back at him, “It’s just one of the most popular MMO games that’s been running for nearly seventeen years.”

The man sucks his teeth before he looks back down to his plate of grease before pushing it in my direction, “You can have a fry,” he says taking the fork and stabbing at a piece of meat, “What kind of games do you play?”

Taking up his offer, I snatch a fry off his plate and slouch back into the crusty leather, “Eh,” I shrug my shoulders and finish off the fry, “a little bit of everything. I hate fps though.”

He raises a brow, “Literally everyone likes fps. You’re either a liar or you haven’t played any good ones.”

I reach over and take another fry. Tomura is still looking at me, waiting for an answer while I chew on its rubber texture. “Name a good one.”

“Classic one is Call of Duty,”

“Pass. It’s so boring,” I scoff, going to grab another fry, but he pulls the plate back towards him. I lean back and look at him, his eyes narrowing once again.

He pushes the tufts of hair away from his eyes and sits up straighter, “Not even Halo?”

“No, besides I think their outfits are ugly.” I confess to him as I look back to Hibiki and see her leaning against the back counter whispering to Daisuke. “I like seeing the characters I control run around,” I say, turning back to him. His eyes were now on the two other people in the diner as well. “You didn’t order anything to drink. Why not?” I ask, effectively changing the conversation.

“My waitress isn’t very attentive,” he says as the corner of his lips lifts into a lopsided smile. He doesn’t look half bad despite his disheveled appearance.

I stand up and smooth out my skit once again. “Would you like anything to drink, sir?” I ask in my practiced customer service voice and even sprinkle in my fake smile for some pizzazz.

Tomura’s brow raises in amusement. That lopsided smirk never leaving his features. “Yeah, I’ll take a milkshake.”

Once hearing his request, I turn on my heel and walk towards Hibiki and Daisuke. “Dai, make two milkshakes,” I say loudly, shooing him off with the wave of my hand.

“Not my name!”

Hibiki shoves her phone in my face just as I seat myself at the counter. “Not gonna lie to you, babes, you two look so cute together!” she squeals as silently as she can, but I don’t doubt that Tomura heard it from his booth.

I raise my hand and place it on the back of my neck before trying to roll out the kinks I’ve been feeling for a while. “He’s not so bad.” I mumble and stop to look back at Tomura in his booth. He wasn’t looking anymore, in fact, he was back to playing his game. His fingers picked at the buttons slowly. The pauses in between make the game seem like something you’d have to think about. Something that’s definitely not a Mario game. “Why’d you take a picture?”

Her curly hair bounces as she leans over the counter and shows me a variety of pictures with me sitting in front of Tomura, “I’m gonna start a scrapbook for you two. You’ll be able to show it to your kids one day.” Her smile is so contagious I can feel my next life smiling as well while we look through the pictures. “He’s not so bad, right? Once Tomura gets talking he’s really decent.”

“The expectation bar is that low for him, huh?” I look away from the phone and at Hibiki before remembering why I’m at the counter again, “Dai, my two shakes!” I stare through the order window and hear his famous reply before I start hearing a blender go wild in the kitchen.

That’s the only noise fixing through the air for a few seconds before silence overtakes the dilapidated establishment. Hibiki turns and looks to the window as well. We wait patiently until Daisuke’s hands appear with a milkshake in each. “About time,” Hibiki says playfully, her tone never really rising above cheery. “Any longer and my little creation would be no more, Daiki!”

Hibiki turns and hands me the shakes, but I stay put in place as I stare through the window. Daisuke’s brown, blank eyes bore into mine as I wait for him to say something about the nickname. “That’s… not your name,” I say as if expecting him to repeat each word after me. He continues to stare straight at me without blinking for another five seconds before turning away into the kitchen. I click my tongue before turning around and heading in Tomura’s direction. He’s still into his game, body slouched over the Gameboy in his hands like his life depends on it. “Your shake,” I say, setting his down next to his plate and sliding into my seat. Again, just like the first time, he doesn’t respond, so I sit there and sip at my vanilla shake.

It feels like a millennium goes by before he glances up at me and pushes the game aside once again. “You got one too?” he asks, then sips at his own shake. “Don’t expect me to pay for that.”

“Please,” I scoff, “You came to a setup because you were promised free food. I don’t expect you to pay for a two-dollar shake.”

“Glad we’re on the same page then,” he chuckles. I smile at this and take a sip of my own shake once again. We were more than on the same page. It was only common sense that someone coming into the nastiest diner due to the promise of free food at nearly two in the morning wouldn’t pay for a thing. Hell, if anything I’ll just tell Hibiki that she must add this to his free tab because I’m part of the deal here. “What were you guys talking about over there?” he asks, nodding towards the counter. “Hibiki was all giggly. More than usual.”

“Oh, that?” I ask moving around the thick liquid with my straw, my opposite hand busy holding up my head. “She was just talking about my future babies with you,” I reply casually just to see if that would get a rise out of him.

Tomura doesn’t disappoint. He’s practically spitting up and choking on his shake. I watch him with a smile until he grabs his napkin and coughs into it. “What the hell?” he asks. “Get me some water!” Without answering back, I dismissively wave a hand and walk to the counter and grab a water bottle behind it. I take my time walking back, figuring he wouldn’t die from choking on some ice-cream. When I get back to the table Tomura practically snatches the bottle from my hands and chugs the water down as I take my seat.

“You good?” I ask out of courtesy as he sets down the water bottle.

He’s obviously still getting over it as his body trembles, trying to hold back a coughing fit. Despite that, he looks up with a glare set on me in an attempt to seem threatening. It doesn’t quite work though as he goes into another coughing fit. I patiently wait for him to stop, then finally he says, “You’re a terrible waitress. You’d let a customer die, wouldn’t you?”

“What? You expect me to give you CPR or something? I’m a waitress not an EMT, Tomura.” He clicks his tongue annoyed, then takes another sip of water before setting the bottle down between us. “Do you need an ambulance?”

A smile cracks at the corner of his lips, “After I’m done dying?” he chuckles softly, “You really aren’t attentive at all.” Silence settles between us, and I watch as his hand plays with the bottle cap. I don’t bother breaking the silence this time and take a sip of my shake. If he really wants this to go on, he might as well speak now or forever hold his peace. “What if that old man, Earl, had a heart attack out here? What would you do?”

“Old Earl?” I laugh, looking up at him, “He’d ask for the city morgue’s number before he even thinks about calling someone to save his life. Earl’s a real pessimist.” I say with a low laugh. “Does Hibi talk about work in class?” I only decide to continue with my story when I see him shake his head. “Well, I think it was last year when Earl actually had a heart attack after trying that,” I say gesturing to the tower of grease that had now just become a pile on his plate. “Dai, that’s the cook,” I can faintly hear him yell out to me from the kitchen about his name, but I continue, “he was actually ready to call the paramedics, but Earl weakly clasped his arm and slowly shook his head. Old man really rode it out then left in his rickety old truck like nothing happened.”

Tomura whistles astonished at the story. “That’s a hardcore old man.” He then pushes his plate towards me, “Fry?”

“Or one with no health insurance” I say, reaching for one and taking a bite out of the soggy thing. Tomura smiles and picks up his game again, he holds onto the power button and watches as the dim colors fade to black before pocketing the small thing into his hoodie. “Ready to head out?” I ask, already sliding out of my seat and picking up the empty cups. “Want a to-go box for the rest of your heart attack burger?”

His black hair shakes around as he mumbles, “Nah. Your story kind of scared me away from it.” Tomura slides out of his seat and stands up beside me. He takes his plate and follows me to the counter where he places it in front of Hibiki. “Thanks for the food, Hibiki. Here,” He pulls a few crumpled bills from his hoodie’s pocket and hands them to her, “for her shake.”

Hibiki and I look at each other and give a subtle shrug. “Gonna go then, Tomura?” Hibiki pipes up, taking the plate from the counter.

“Yeah. I’ll see you two around,” he says before walking out into the foggy night.

My best friend is fast to turn towards me the second Tomura is out of sight. “So, what do you think? I know how to pick them, huh?” She says quickly and rather proud.

With a shrug, I place the two cups on top of the plate in her hands before taking it from her and into the kitchen. She follows closely behind me, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, “I mean, yeah he piqued my interest.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Hibiki seizes her giddy movements, “But?”

The dishes clatter as I drop them into the sink and turn to her with a chuckle, “He didn’t ask for my number, Hibi. He’s obviously not interested.”

She childishly lets out a raspberry and waves her arm dismissively, “That’s like a technicality, babes! Don’t worry about it, there was definitely some chemistry. Right, Daiki?” Hibiki asks, turning to get Daisuke’s input.

On the other hand, I looked to him, waiting once again to hear him chastise Hibiki for using anything but his name. That doesn’t happen though. Instead, we all turn our heads to the door as it rings. “Shifts over!”

Jamie and Rosalind, the late-night waitresses, walk in ready to relieve Hibiki and I. “Thank you!” Hibiki shouts, throwing the small apron off and walking out of the kitchen. “Come on, babes!” I hastily follow her out to her small Honda Civic as I messily fold my apron. “Crash at mine, yeah? We can grab a bite before class.”

“Deal,” I smile as we get into the car.

In the morning, Hibiki and I don’t even find time to grab that bite to eat she mentioned after work. I’m running around her old, little apartment ripping drawers open and looking for the clothes I’ve left before. My brain tingles at the thought of her not having washed them, but that fear skips my mind when I see my jeans and a shirt stuffed into the back of her drawer.

Hibiki, on the other hand, is not as flustered about already running late for our first class. “Find them?” she shouts from the kitchen. She’s been cooking up a storm since she woke up a few minutes ago. That girl has no worries in the world as long as she knows she can make a meal when the sun rises.

I emerge from the battle with her drawers unscathed, but out of breath. “Hibi, you really need to organize your stuff,” I huff, dropping myself into one of the mismatched chairs she uses for her dining table.

When she drops a plate of scrambled eggs and a slice of toast in front of me, she says, “If you found them, then it’s obviously not that bad.” She sits down in a wicker chair with her own breakfast. “Now hurry, my late attendance record cannot be ruined. I’m always exactly five minutes late.”

Sometimes I wonder why she’s always late, it’s not like she lives far. Hibiki managed to get an apartment right down the street from the community college we both attend. “Right, wouldn’t want the professor thinking you don’t care about his class,” I reply with a roll of my eyes.

“Exactly,” she says, already dropping her plate in the sink and walking towards the room. “You wanna walk with me or do you wanna go ahead?”

My eyes travel down to my old wristwatch, and it takes me a while to decipher the time because there are no numbers to help me, “Yeah, I’m gonna get going.” I say, standing up and taking one of the random little journals and a pen that Hibiki likes collecting. “My phone’s charging near the TV btw. I’ll be dropping by after my classes to pick it up.”

Hibiki appears at the bathroom entrance with a toothbrush in her mouth and a thumbs-up before disappearing into it again. With that, I walk out of her apartment and lock the door.

My mind wanders back to the previous night though. To the bet with Hibiki and the odd stranger she had me meet. Tomura was a fun change of pace last night. Night shifts were usually anticlimactic, but he made me feel like there was some kind of action going on in my usual routine. His attitude is weird if I’m being honest with myself and despite that I do in fact feel like seeing him around some more. Seeing him out in the wild would actually be entertaining. Maybe he’s just as awkwardly quiet and rude around other people as he was last night.

Before I know it, the day races by and my hopes of seeing Tomura slowly dwindle. I know he said, “see you two around” and I know that doesn’t necessarily mean the next day. Hell, it was probably just one of those things you say to someone you’ve just met out of some common courtesy.

Currently, I stand in the middle of the school courtyard waiting in line for an iced coffee when Hibiki bounces her way towards me. “Hey, you get your phone yet?” she asks while standing on the tips of her toes to see how long the line is.

“Not yet,” I sigh, glancing down to my watch trying to read the time. “Probably after I get a coffee.” She doesn’t respond and lets silence fall between us as we patiently wait to order. I roll my shoulders and as I do so, I catch sight of a familiar brunette walking by with an enormous backpack. Daisuke passes by staring intently at us but gives no effort to greet us.

“Your coworker sucks,” a voice sounds from behind Hibiki and I. “Think he’d say hi at least.”

Turning around, Hibiki and I come face to face with none other than Tomura himself. Guess ‘see you two around’ did mean today. The sight of him actually makes me feel pleasant. “Yeah? Hi to you too, Tomura.”

The man is wearing identical, if not the same, clothes from the night before. I wouldn’t even put it past him to wear the same clothes a few days in a row. “Hey…” he pauses for a second, staring at me before turning to Hibiki, “Hey, Hibiki.”

I look to her expecting a conversation to blossom between the two. Surprisingly, she just gives a small wave and turns around and takes a few steps forward as the line moves. “So, you’re grabbing an iced coffee too?” I ask, looking him over and noticing he too was carrying a backpack, but it isn’t as stuffed or hiked up his back like Daisuke’s was.

“Yeah?” The tone in his voice makes the response sound like a question. Which in turn makes me feel stupid for asking because the little kiosk we’re waiting at only sells iced coffee. “What? I don’t look like a coffee kind of guy?”

I turn on my heel and face forward in line, hoping to hide the visible embarrassment that’s crossing my face like a hot wave. “You look like the kind of guy who’d chug a Monster for breakfast, lunch and dinner,” I say.

This change in position doesn’t help though. Tomura’s far more active than he was when we were sitting across from each other. He steps right beside me, a teasing smile already crossing his lips. “That so? Well, you’re exactly the kind of girl I thought you were.”

“What would that be?” I’m ready to hear him say I’m a basic girl who likes iced coffee to be honest. What other kind could he be thinking of? Especially with him assuming last night that I didn’t know much about games, he’s definitely the type to go for a stereotype. Just like I did with the Monster drink comment.

Hibiki’s already ordering when he finally opens his mouth to say something, “The airheaded type.”

“What?” I snap, looking up to him. Tomura’s lips only rise into that smirk of his before he’s pushing my forward. I look ahead and smile to the cashier, momentarily forgetting his comment, “An iced coffee,” I turn to look at Tomura again, “What does that mean?”

“Two iced coffees,” he corrects me while placing some crumpled bills on the counter. “It means,” he starts, as he takes hold of both drinks and hands me one. “That you’re a little slow, in my perspective that is.”

We step out of line, and I look around trying to spot Hibiki’s curly head of hair, but she’s nowhere in sight. Great, she’s abandoned me once again. “Whatever,” I huff, finally deciding to look back at him, “Thanks for the coffee, but I have to stop by Hibiki’s apartment and pick up my phone.”

He’s sipping his drink and giving a quick shrug, “I’ll join you,” he says, inviting himself. This catches me by surprise, but I give no objection and just lead the way. He makes no attempt to start a conversation, so I don’t bother trying either. We silently make our way across the street and walk up to Hibiki’s apartment.

“You can come in,” I mumble, opening her door with my key.

He’s quick to note this, “You have a key to your coworker’s apartment? You’re just gonna let in a total stranger?” Despite asking the second question I can hear him step onto the tiled floor.

I glance back to see him looking around the small kitchen that’s right at the entrance. “She's been my best friend since our Proactiv years,” I explain going back to her room and picking my phone up off the dresser where her television is set on.

“You mean that acne medicine?” he snorts from the kitchen.

There’s a loud clang just as he finishes that question, and I’m practically flying down the short hallway to see what damage has been made. “What’d you drop?” I ask, heart beating in my chest as I see him leaning over to pick up a saucepan.

Tomura gives no real response, just a usual shrug and sets the saucepan on the drying rack. “So, you two are really close, huh? Doesn’t explain why you’d let a total stranger into her place,” he says going back to his initial question.

I scan him over, before deciding to push him out. “She said you were friends. Really doubt she’d care if you saw her underwear hanging from the ceiling fan.” I lock the door behind us before glancing at my phone. There are no new notifications, but at least I could finally be able to tell time without feeling like I failed fourth grade. “I’m done for today.” My statement is probably too sudden because when I look to him, his features are twisted in confusion. “My classes I mean,” I clarify for him. So much for me being an airhead, we’re practically on par so far.

“Me too,” he says, tossing his cup, now only ice, into a bin right outside Hibiki’s apartment complex. We stop walking and he looks at me. Those eyes of his that had my primitive instincts tell me to run don’t seem so bad in the sun’s soft glow. “You gonna walk home or should I offer you a ride?”

His attitude just as bleak in the sun though.

I shrug a shoulder as I take a sip of the iced coffee still in my hand. Not exactly chivalrous this one. “I guess I could grace your car with some female presence.”

This time he rolls his eyes, probably realizing that was a shot at his probable lack of dating experience. He then leads the way back to the campus parking lot; the thing looks like a car dealership with the number of cars taking up every single space.

Tomura’s quiet as he leads me through various rows of cars before stopping in front of a navy-blue one. “Hop in,” he says, clicking a button on his remote key. I go around to the passenger side and pull the door open and get in. The inside is surprisingly clean. His appearance really makes me draw a certain conclusion to his character. I’ve been wrong so far though, he’s not a complete slob. “Something tells me you’re judging me again,” he pauses as he starts the car. “Something also tells me you’re feeling bad that you were wrong,” Tomura says, finishing his thought as he’s looking back while pulling out of the space. “Am I right?” he asks before taking off for the lot’s exit.

“You’re not entirely wrong,” I reply, trying to make him believe that he’s not spot on. “Take a right when you leave by the way.”

He nods and stops at the exit for a second before following my directions, “You can turn on the radio,” he says gesturing towards the screen in between us.

I lean over and press at the power button, next thing I know my heart is wanting to jump out of my chest. The volume’s all the way up, and my fingers are anxiously spinning the volume wheel until it’s at ten. “Oh, my god! Are you deaf or something, Tomura?” I shudder in my seat and press a hand to my chest. “That was terrifying.” The fact that it was trap metal didn’t help my heart an ounce. That is the loudest type of music I’ve ever come across. “Keep going straight,” I mutter when I notice we’re at another stop.

Tomura doesn’t seem at all fazed by the music though. He’s sitting there with a grin on his face, obviously in love with the reaction I gave at the sudden raucous. “Here,” he says, digging through his hoodie’s pocket before tossing me his phone.

With a brow raised, I look at him then swipe my thumb across the screen. “You’re really going to let a total stranger look through your phone just like that?”

“She said you’re friends.” He says referring to my previous answer. With that answer, I decide to slide through his apps until I land on Spotify. His entire home page is filled with trap music; however, that doesn’t make me believe it’s his most listened to.

My thumb hovers over his Spotify Wrapped story, then I look up at him to make sure his eyes are still on the road. I tap on it quickly and skip to the fourth slide and wait until his most listened to song is shown. “Awe, Tomura!” I gasp out looking at the song’s title. “Who would have known you’d be into K-pop?” The speed in which his eyes snap from the road to me is almost alarming. “What do you know about K-pop?” I ask smugly looking back at him. K-pop is seen like a more feminine music genre, just like games were seen as something more masculine.

“Don’t be a snob,” he sighs. His initial reaction slowly fades as he looks back to the road ahead of him. “Where to?”

I hum and look up to see we’re in front of the city plaza. I haven’t been paying attention, “Oop, we’ve gone a little too far. Sorry.” I apologize quickly and look back to his phone just to press play on his most played song. “Go back to Mariposa Rd and keep going straight until the road ends.” With that, I set his phone down in the cupholder.

Tomura doesn’t protest or whine at the fact that I wasn’t paying attention. He simply does a U-turn and goes back to the road I told him about. “So, what’s an airhead like you majoring in?”

My attention moves to the passenger window before I decide to respond, “That’s a good question,” but I don’t elaborate further than that. Truth is, I don’t know what I want to major in just yet. No particular subject has piqued my interest. That’s most likely why I decided to go straight to a community college instead of some University. “What does an antisocial person like yourself study?”

“That’s a good question,” he repeats, slowing the car to a stop, “Been stuck on choosing between a computer engineer and a biology major.” Tomura seems almost proud of himself as he begins driving once again. He’s probably making small bets in his head the way Hibiki does at times. “From what I’ve seen, I can probably tell you what you should major in. If you want my opinion-”

“I don’t,” I laugh and turn to look at his profile. He’s looking just as tired as he was the night before. “Thanks though. I’ll find what I like somehow.”

“I was just gonna say you should stick to being a waitress,” he chuckles, pulling the car in front of my house. “This you?”

“Yeah,” I say looking up at my house. The little flowers in front are slowly wilting because of the weather's sudden dip in temperature. I pull out my phone and hand it to him, “Type in your number.”

He stares at the phone in my hand for a few seconds before taking it in his own hands. “Want to know why I think you’re an airhead?” he asks while tapping away at the screen.

I take the phone back as he holds it out and hit call on the number, so he has mine as well. “Yeah, sure. Why am I such an airhead?” I ask as I watch his phone vibrate in the cupholder.

“You haven’t introduced yourself.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t know your name.”

For a second, I feel like the world stops as I look up at him with wide eyes. Did he really say what I think he said? Hibiki obviously gave me his name, why wouldn’t she extend the courtesy to him? “Neither have you!” Obviously, I’m ready to throw him under the bus as well. Sure, I know his name, but he should have at least introduced himself too.

Tomura shifts in his seat so he’s partially facing me. “How can I introduce myself when you’re already like “Hi, Tomura!” huh?” He says in a mocking tone of voice. “Don’t waitresses usually introduce themselves anyway?”

Defensively I reply, “Don’t customers usually say hi back when the waitress greets them?”

Tomura sucks his teeth and looks away for a second before opening his mouth a few times like he’s trying to figure out what to say next but decides against it. It takes him a few seconds before it seems like he finally makes a choice. “What’s your name then, airhead?” he finally asks, sitting back.

“Wouldn’t you rather keep calling me airhead?”

“No.”

I chew on my lip, pretending to think about giving him my name. In the end, I just give in after realizing I have no more comebacks to throw at him. “Sakiko.”

His fingers roam to his door and clicks a button, unlocking all the doors. “Get out. All that tension building for a basic name like Sakiko?” He says in a joking tone of voice.

“Puh-lease!” I scoff, crossing my arms. “You’re one to talk, Tomura,” I say, dragging out the last syllable in his name. “That’s literally short for Michael. Your name is literally the blueprint for basic.”

Tomura lifts a hand to his chest as if he’d been wounded. “That stings, Saki!”

“I only speak facts, Michael.” I say feeling a tad bit victorious. Feeling the vibe slowly fade, I smile and reach for the door handle. “I’ll see you around then?”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of my car,” he teases while waving me away. “Can’t miss you if you’re not gone.”

Hearing that, I don’t even bother asking for a better goodbye and just take his as it is. I make my way up the path and unlock my door. Before walking in, I look back hoping to see Tomura still parked in front, but that’s just wishful thinking. The dude is long gone, there’s not even a care in sight. Shrugging my shoulders, I walk into my home and lock the door behind me. Just as I’m looking down at my phone, it vibrates in my hand and a text from Hibiki pops up at the top.

Instead of replying to the text I decide to call her. “Hey! See my text? Are you still on campus? I can give you a ride home now.” She says quickly as I drop her tiny journal on a coffee table and walk to my room.

“Guess what,” I smile, plopping down on my plush mattress.

This game is one of Hibiki’s favorites. She immediately starts guessing random scenarios. I think I even catch her mentioning if I had somehow met an A-list celebrity, totally disregarding the fact that we live in a washed-up town in nowhere Kentucky. “Wait, did you somehow get a tapeworm in your iced coffee?”

“What? Ew.” I say, feeling a frown pull down my lips. “No, why would you even think that, Hibi?”

I could practically visualize Hibiki shrugging her shoulders, “Dunno, saw it once on a documentary.”

“Really? That’s gross. Which documentary?”

Hibiki laughs and says, “I’ll send you a link, but what happened?”

Remembering why I decided to call her has me sitting up straight. “Oh! It’s about Tomura. Finally got his number, but that doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell him my name?”

Her smooth voice hums on her end of the phone softly. I have no secrets to hide, so why hadn’t she just given him my name? “That reminds me of something else!” the line goes quiet for a second before she starts talking again, “I don’t even think his name is Tomura,” she confesses.

Now I’m silent, staring at the phone then quickly hanging up on her. My fingers are quick to call Tomura, or whoever he is. “What’s your name?” I ask the second I hear that he answers the call.

He lets out a loud laugh on his end before anything else. “You just figured that out, Saki? Nearly took you a whole day.”

“Quit playing!” I whine into the phone. “What’s your name?”

“Tenko. It’s nice to meet you, Sakiko.”

A giggle leaves me now that I’ve finally heard a proper introduction. “Nice to meet you too, Tenko.”

#bnha college au #college au #bnha #shigaraki #my hero academia shigaraki #boku no hero academia #shimura tenko #bnha oc #ooc shigaraki #shigaraki needs a hug #shigaraki deserves to be loved #shigaraki one shot #oneshot #bnha fanfiction #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x oc #mha fanfiction #shigaraki tomura

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saltytearsofjoy · 2 years

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anyway tomura with his dog

#shigaraki tomura #shimura Tenko #i know this is a crappy sketch but I was bored #idk why he’s injured but he needs to hug his puppy #also I used that one Power csm panel as a reference

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usagi-s2 · 1 year

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Dad for one fic rec!

tell me you love me before i let go by artofflorescence

summary: Izuku goes willingly when his father promises to protect him inside a vault. Izuku has never been so happy or so loved. Angst, big TW for depressing thoughts and a suicide attempt. It's heavy

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smaqzy · 2 years

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DAWGJDYLIA;WLIHADIWHKUKUHUKHOAL;

#THE WAY HE STILL HAS HIS ASS UP FROM WHEN HE SPECIAL MOVE ON SHIGARAKI. HE NEEDS A HUG RN.#IM SWEATING #CRYING #mirio togata #mha chapter 367 #deku #bakugo #bnha #izuku midoriya #lemillion #nejire #shigaraki tomura #mha #mha spoliers #mha 366

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haleigh-sloth · 2 years

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shigaraki, izuku and bakugo will definitely be taking turns with the one brain cell they share. shigaraki claims he's got it all of the time because he's the "adult", but then he turns around and walks face first into a vending machine or something

YES LOL

This is all hc right now but I can totally see Shigaraki wanting to play the adult part but ultimately still not being able to because he still just wants to participate in the fun.

Like “I’m older, I guess I should act like it.”

*gets involved with whatever bullshit the teens are doing*

All this to say, yes he should be more mature by the end but he also should get to have fun since he missed out so much. And therefore, he is not a very good responsible adult figure.

#again this is all hc until we get more characterization of Shig #when he is finally more than just a sad sack who needs a hug #lol #bnha #boku no hero academia #anonymous #bnha asks #shigaraki tomura

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thehusbandoden · 9 months

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You Flinch During an Argument -Hawks

My confidence for this series is like at a 2 outta 10 but I can't really take it back now sooo ig I'll just continue to write. I hope someone's enjoying it </3

Hurt to Comfort | 1,097 words

Warnings!: Mentions of arguing, flinching, mention of someone beating up on themselves (Hawks), Hawks' name used. Let me know if I miss any <3

Gif credit: @tatakaeeren

His heart will stop as soon as he sees you recoiling from him.

He was planning on simply taking your hand to ground you both.

He'll softly ask if you're okay and what you need from him.

You need him to leave you alone? Sure thing, he'll be busy cussing himself out in the kitchen- doing those stupid dishes the argument started.

Want comfort? Don't worry, he'll hold you for hours upon hours, accomanying each peck with a soft apology.

He'll get very upset with himself and will be very reserved and somewhat cold for the next week or so.

He keeps thinking back to that one movement from you.

And no matter what he was planning on doing and how you said that you knew he wasn't going to hurt you, he can't get the idea that you flinched because of him out of his head.

You finally have enough when he leaves for a mission and only gives you a peck on the lips, no extra cuddles, kisses, hugs, compliments, or tickle fights the entire week he was preparing to leave.

Right as he was saying his goodbye his eyes were as cold as ever, holding no liveliness in the honey depths.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" You pout, crossing your arms across your chest.

And that was quite normal for the two of you.

He would chuckle and swoop you in his winged embrace, kissing your lips before inhaling the scent of your shampoo, kissing your forehead as he did so. "I love you, and I miss you already", "You're so goregous.. don't find someone better when I'm gone, mkay?", "I cannot wait to see your smiling face when I get back" were some of the things he would whisper to you as he hugged you, mentally bracing himself for the long week or more that he would be apart from you.

But now? All he did was glance around before giving you a negative response, informing you he had everything.

"A-aren't you going to kiss me?" You ask, emotions getting the best of you.

He then came and gave you a small, fleeting peck to the lips before heading out with another hushed 'goodbye'.

You then labored to figure out how to help him for the next three weeks, until he finally came home to you.

As Keigo's hand made its way towards you you recoiled back out of instinct, not fear. You would never fear your Keigo.

But did he know that?

Terror consumed Keigo as soon as he saw you flinch.. were you.. scared of him?

His heart beat faster against his chest as sweat protruded from his body... you were scared of him... he scared you.

Forcing himself to get a grip and focus on you, Keigo weakly asked, "Y-y/n... did you think I was going to hit you?"

You immedietly shook your head no, and made your way to him, one hand on his cheek. "No baby, I know you would never hit me. I don't know why I flinched, I guess it was just instinct. I'm not scared of you."

"O-oh.. well do you want me to leave you alone or.."

"I would love it if you would cuddle me. We can talk more later, right now we both just need one another." At that, Keigo nodded before making his way towards your shared bedroom, holding your hand in his trembling one.

Since then, Keigo has been a wreck.

He doesn't eat properly, he doesn't sleep properly, and he's not his usual chipper self. He's a lot more cold towards you, sitting on the other side of the living room instead of right next you, he does the dishes, laundry, vaccuming, and any other kind of chore you can think of without playfully bantering with you like usual, he avoids starting arguments, always just agreeing to whatever you were saying, and he hardly touches you.

If you want a kiss before he goes to work, you need to ask for one, and then you'll get a small peck on the lips, and sometimes just your forehead.

You want cuddles after having a nightmare? You're going to have to deal with you clinging onto him for comfort while he awkwardly rubs your shoulders.

He's miserable, punishing himself for a simple reaction from you.

"I'm leaving y/n." Keigo called, picking up his bags and suitcase, entirely ready to leave.

"Wait! Wait!" You exclaim, dashing into the enterance way. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"I have everything needed for the trip." Keigo muttered, honey eyes cold.

As Keigo turned to leave your emotions went out of whack, Keigo is really messed up if he won't kiss you before a three week mission.

"C-can I get a kiss?" You ask quietly, emotions ready to leak any minute.

Keigo just walked towards you, pecking your lips once, before walking out of the door with a quick "goodbye".

As soon as the door closed you fell onto your knees, overcome with emotions. Your Keigo was truly broken. He hadn't even said 'I love you'.

Three weeks later Keigo came home, and you had a plan in mind. You would simply sit him down and have a talk with him, ask him what's bothering him, get him to talk, comfort him, and then reassure him. Then, things would be back to normal.

But that bird just had to ruin all of your hardwork.

As soon as Keigo stepped through the door he jumped on top of you, dropping the two of you onto the livingroom floor.

"K-Keigo?"

"Oh y/n I am so so sorry! I was so focussed on my worry about you that they sent me home and then I decided to go take a vacation and clear my head- and I realized how cold I've been to you! I didn't even give you a kiss- or, or say I love you- y/n I am so very very sorry." Keigo exclaimed, burying his face into your chest pitifully.

"Oh baby what changed? I was going to sit you down and make you talk it out unil you were normal again."

"I thought about it over and over again- and I realized that you're not acting scared of me. If you were you would be quiet and would want to stay away from me and not start those silly arguments you keep tryin' to pull." Keigo pouted, pecking your lips once he was done talking.

"Keigo.. you still haven't said it."

"Said wha- oh I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!~"

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oshiawaseni · 2 months

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The biggest obstacle when it comes to saving Shigaraki’s heart is Decay: If he so much as grabs someone’s hand… they’ll die. Which is a huge deal in a series that places so much emphasis on the act of a Hero holding a lost child's hand to reassure them that everything will be okay.

Shigaraki struggles with connecting to people because he’s never been able to perform even the most rudimentary of expressions for actually *connecting with other people* (such as a handshake)… it's a concept which has been shown to us time and time again in MHA. And if you are a subscriber of "AFO having given decay to Tenko" theory... this is probably the main reason as for why he gave him such a treacherous quirk that would never allow him to connect to another person.

No one has even hugged him since his mother died trying to… and she was his only family who cast aside her safety to give the love, comfort and reassurance that 5 year old Tenko needed back then.

So I think what's to come for Shigaraki is going to be about connecting with him in the way that’s been (impossible).

My theory is that Izuku could have a moment of reaching out to Shigaraki, just as Sailor Moon reached out with a hand for Sailor Galaxia to take… and in doing so, show Tomura his pure intentions to save him. I think this could be a main feature of the Izuku Midoriya Rising chapter!

This parallel works *really* well if Shigaraki is possessed by AFO at the time. The MC’s words and selflessness helping their enemy tap into the love which lives deep inside them. In Sailor Moon this dispersed the chaos in Galaxia… and in MHA it may tame AFO’s kosei/personality.

The full theory with videos can be read here!

When 407 came out, a LOT of us thought Izuku’s hand stood NO chance… even I was concerned! But I think this was actually foreshadowing a future chapter where Izuku reaches out to Shigaraki, knowing he’s risking everything to try reach into his humanity.

There’s also Yoichi’s words: “So why did you reach out to me that day, knowing full well of my ties to your enemy?” …Hori’s been cooking this theme of reaching a hand out to save those in need, no matter who they are. That everyone is a person with a human heart inside them.

So I think Shigaraki will reach out to grab onto Izuku’s outstretched hand, in a Sailor Moon-inspired moment of Tomura finally embracing the love in his heart… and this will free him of all his life’s built up pain.

One thing MHA teaches well is that pure love and compassion towards others, and the self-sacrifices made to help one’s community are the key to controlling one’s quirk. It’s the best expression of individuality in MHA. Kacchan had full mastery over his quirk by embracing love.

I think it’s enough for Shigaraki that Izuku is even *willing* to be decayed to reach into his humanity and show the compassion his mother once gave him when everything was falling apart around him. Izuku may even remind Shigaraki of Inko’s motherly warmth from the memories.

So Shigaraki will be able to control his quirk because his heart is cleansed, leaving only pure love inside. And so he won’t let Decay hurt Izuku when he grabs Izuku’s hand. Shigaraki’s soul could be truly saved by physically connecting to Izuku’s immense heart and kindness for others. No matter when or how it’s done, a handhold scene like this would be so beautiful!

MHA’s society may be incredibly broken and wrong… but the one right thing in the world is the connection between everyone’s hearts, all striving for a better future together. Their belief in hope and each other.

At the very end of her fight, Sailor Moon says that chaos "had gone into the hearts of everyone.” Because if everyone shares a little of the burden, it won’t all fall on one person’s shoulders. But, “It’s alright! The light of hope exists in their hearts also.” ✨❤️✨

#kana writes #bnha meta #bnha 417 #i wrote this before chapter 415 #op #bnha #mha #Tenko shimura #tomura shigaraki

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keijislove · 2 years

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𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃: YES | NO

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮(𝒔): 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴...

(A/N): I AM ALIVE

I'm moving these from my other blog to this one so if you've read these before it isn't copied lmao!

🖤AIZAWA SHOTA🖤

It had been a long day at work with your hero agency being doused in mountains of paperwork, you pitying your employees and cursing the goddamn villains for wreaking havoc in the city to give you this pile of papers to read through and sign.

When you had finally finished up, it wasn’t too late and you figured you could visit your boyfriend at Heights Alliance for some time since you hadn’t seen him in a while.

When Aizawa’s doorbell had rung he’d irritatedly gotten up thinking it was one of his students coming to annoy him for some reason.

Upon opening it, however, his annoyance had immediately faded away at the sight of you as he sighed in relief.

“Hey,” you’d smiled softly and engulfed him in a hug as he’d tiredly chuckled into your hair.

“Busy day?” he murmured quietly.

“You have no idea,” you sighed, “I don’t have any energy left.”

“Well that’s too bad then,” his voice had taken a slightly darker, huskier tone. “I haven’t seen you all week – you might need some energy.”

“I always have enough left for you,” you playfully winked in his direction as he laughed slightly, the sound reverberating through his chest which you were cuddled into.

“Still a smartmouth as ever,” he mumbled before gently grabbing your chin with his slender fingers and connecting your lips as you sighed in tired relief at the contact.

Your fingers tangled into his messy, dark locks as he groaned against your lips when you tugged on them slightly.

“Waited for this all week,” he muttered before pushing you up against his wall and trailing a few kisses along your neck, ready to take you into his bedroom for a night to remember when –

“Oh – OH, HOLY –“

You both jumped apart in an instant, your cheeks flushing red as you caught sight of a wide-eyed Shinso standing in the doorway, a book in his hand and a look of disgust painted on his face.

“You didn’t close the door, did you,” you sighed.

“... no.” your boyfriend gritted his teeth hard, his eyes flashing , scarf handy to cover up his burning cheeks, “That still gives you no right to barge into my house, Shinso.”

“Oh, come on!” Shinso raised his hands defensively, “I needed to return the book you lent me and the door was open, so I didn’t think too much about it! I didn’t know I’d walk into you fucking –“

“Give me that,” Aizawa snapped, snatching the textbook irritably from the teen, “And get out of my sight unless you want detention.”

“Oh come on, Shota,” you murmured amusedly, “Don’t be so hard on the poor boy.”

“You better keep quiet about this,” Aizawa’s eyes flashed dangerously as he glared at his pupil.

“Don’t worry, sensei,” Shinso muttered, “I’m trying to forget it happened myself. Um – carry on,” he added as he closed the door awkwardly, walking out of the house.

You both waited with bated breath until the sounds of footsteps died away. You took one look at your boyfriend’s crimson face and burst into laughter as he groaned, throwing his head back.

“Don’t, please,” he grumbled as you poked his flaming cheek, “That kid literally just killed the mood.”

“Not quite,” you quipped and walked forward, catching him off guard as you pinned him against the wall as a role reversal.

“Let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?”

💙 SHIGARAKI TOMURA 💙

“Tomura,” you whined from the bed, your face propped up onto your upturned palms.

“Hm?” Shigaraki hummed in response from beside you.

“I need affection.”

“I’m literally cuddling you.”

“More affection.” You jutted your bottom lip out slightly as your boyfriend looked at you with a cocked eyebrow. You groaned slightly, knowing this dense fuck would never catch up to your hints, choosing instead to move over to him to straddle his waist slightly.

In all honesty, he knew exactly what you wanted but playing dumb and watching you take charge of the situation was far more entertaining.

Though he would never verbally admit it, Tomura found your more assertive side extremely hot and a major turn on as he watched you with a simple clueless expression as you slowly closed the distance between you two, pressing your lips to his in a needy kiss.

He was more than happy to reciprocate, instantly placing his hands on your thighs and slowly moving them up to your hips, squeezing slightly as a tiny noise erupted from your throat, making him smirk into the kiss.

“What is it you want?” he murmured quietly against your lips. You indignantly made a noise of aggression, making him chuckle.

“Words, love. Tell me what it is you want.”

“You,” you breathed heavily, “I want you, Tomura...”

You felt him smirk again, the little tease, as he huskily whispered into your ear, “Your wish is my command.”

Just as his hands, which had slipped under your shirt, were about to lift it off of your body, the door was thrown open, making you both jump.

“Shigaraki, do you – oh, damn.”

Your eyes, wide as saucers, moved from Shigaraki’s irritated face to the door where Dabi was standing with genuine surprise painted on his features.

“Whoa,” he let out a low whistle, “Where’ve you been hiding that side of ya all this time, Crusty?”

“Is it so life threateningly important that you felt the need to interrupt my quality time with my s/o?” Tomura asked, annoyed.

“Well I guess it could wait till you guys are done fucking,” Dabi smirked slightly, leaning against the door frame, “Pretend I’m not here, carry on.”

“Get out,” Shigaraki lowly growled, “Get out, you burnt nugget!”

He rose up from the bed and went to slam the door after Dabi who walked out laughing hysterically as you hid your red face in the blanket.

“Um...” you began awkwardly, “Do you want to... cuddle? We c –“

“Oh, no,” Tomura had turned around to face you with an expression you’d never seen on him before, his eyes heavily lidded with lust.

“You get back on that bed right this instant.”

🖤 DABI 🖤

“Someone’s feisty today,” Dabi commented jokingly as you grabbed his collar roughly, a maniacal glint in your eye.

“I’m seeing you for the first time in weeks because of that stupid mission of yours,” you said lowly, “I don’t care if we’re at a villain base, I’m having you all to myself at last.”

“I’m yours,” he drawled huskily as you furiously slammed your lips onto him, not planning on letting him go for quite some time now.

“Damn, what’s gotten into you today?” Dabi chuckled slightly as you took your jacket off, tugging at his shirt desperately as he swiftly moved it off of him in one quick motion before you latched yourself onto him once again.

“I’m,” you mumbled between kisses, “Showing – my – stupid boyfriend – just how much – I missed him.”

You were about to attach your lips to his neck when the door threw itself open and both of your heads turned to look.

Shigaraki was standing in the doorway, a blank look upon his face as he looked the both of you up and down in the rather compromising position, you straddling Dabi’s waist and his hands running up and down your sides.

“Did you need something?” you asked irritably.

“No,” Shigaraki responded simply yet coldly.

Dabi pulled back from you and tilted his head back, face forming slowly into a lazy smirk, “You’re more than welcome to join, Crusty.”

That had earned him getting the door slammed loudly as Shigaraki’s bored voice issued from outside, “Shut up, you horny little shits.”

“The nerve,” you furiously said as your boyfriend threw his head back, laughing, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing, just the big fat blush on Crusty’s face he probably thought we couldn’t see,” Dabi smirked as an angry voice sounded from outside, “I WASN’T BLUSHING!”

“Perv, what are you till doing out there?” you yelled.

“If you want some free eighteen plus asmr, you can just come sit here and watch,” Dabi yelled coyly.

“SHUT UP YOU CHEAP PIECE OF BARBECUE, I’M LEAVING!”

🩸 TOGA HIMIKO 🩸

“Baby stop, that tickles,” Toga squealed as you nuzzled your face into her neck, making her giggle loudly as you slowly peppered her throat with kisses.

“I missed you,” you sighed slightly, moving up to reconnect your lips, cupping her cheeks slightly.

“I know baby, I missed you too but slow down,” Toga laughed against your lips.

“I’ve waited too long,” you mumbled and flipped her around, moving on top of her and pinning her to the bed as she smirked up at you.

“Is that so?” Her eyes sparkled and her stomach tingled with excitement as you pressed your bodies closer together, hungrily attacking her lips in a ravishing kiss before trailing your lips lightly along her jaw as adorable, tiny noises escaped her throat.

“Toga-chan, how do you say we – OH, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!” both of you jumped apart to be faced with a frantic-looking Twice, who’s mask couldn’t even cover up the massive blush that was slowly spreading across his face.

“Did you not lock the door?” you groaned.

“... Oops?” Toga said, then sighed.

“You ruined the moment, Twice!” she whined at the masked man who began stuttering out apologies, slowly backing out of the room and thankfully closing the door behind him as he did so.

“Don’t these idiots know the term ‘privacy’,” Toga muttered and you smirked teasingly down at her.

“You were the one who left the door open, darling,” you teased, “Were you perhaps hoping someone would walk in?”

“What?” your girlfriend exclaimed, “I mean – whatever, but Twice? No thank you!”

“Regardless,” you reattached your lips to her jaw, “We have unfinished business to attend to.”

🦅 HAWKS 🦅

“Keigo,” you murmured, trailing your fingers along the collar of your boyfriend’s jacket, “Keigo!”

“Yes, love?” Keigo asked distractedly, not looking up from the report he was writing.

You sighed.

“All you’ve been doing lately is work,” you said sadly, “I mean, I know you’re busy with the internship and everything, but I need some alone time with you too! Time that doesn’t consist of you working and me watching.”

“I know, baby,” Keigo sighed, “But I really need to finish this report.”

You ‘tch’ed impatiently before moving off of the chair you were sitting on and plopping down onto your boyfriend’s lap, burying your face in his neck in a desperate search for warmth.

Keigo’s free hand moved to rub your back up and down comfortingly as you sighed in mild contentment.

Suddenly, feeling playful, an ‘interesting’ idea formed in your head as you smirked to yourself slightly, ‘innocently’ wrapping your arms around him, holding him tighter.

Slowly, your fingers inched closer and closer towards his vibrant wings, lightly touching a feather before twirling it discreetly between your fingers so as to not alert him.

You began stroking his wings as lightly as possible but immediately stopped when you felt a huff reverberate from his lips.

“You really think I can’t feel you doing that?”

“Well if my words aren’t enough to grab your attention what am I supposed to do?” you said furiously, “I thought I’d make you horny enough into showing me more affection than your work!”

“Damn, baby,” he smirked slightly, “You could’ve just said you were that desperate.”

“I am, okay?” you said, “I’m that desperate.”

“I noticed.” He moved his chair backward and away from the files he was working on, resting his hands on your lips before placing sloppy kisses on your neck, smirking slightly as you gasped when he ran his tongue over a particularly sensitive spot in your skin.

His hands escaped sneakily up your shirt, raising it slightly so he could freely run his hands over your gorgeous body that he’d been craving for so long now.

He was just about to move his hands to your squirming thighs when the door to his office opened.

“Hawks, sir, we have a new repo �� oh. OH – OH, I’M SORRY –“ one of his interns had walked into the scene, turning red and instantly whipping around and practically sprinting out the room, slamming the door.

“No problem!” Keigo yelled after the poor guy as you looked incredulously at him.

“How are you so casual about this?” you hit his chest slightly, “You’re shameless!”

“It only proves I have an ethereal s/o,” he shrugged, “How is that something to be ashamed off?”

Your blush only darkened at his words as he chuckled slightly, placing his hands back onto your hips as he reattached his lips to your neck, making you forget all about the interruption.

3K notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 1 year

Text

anonymous said: what would flawless tomura do if they were at a party and he left reader alone for a few minutes and came back to some guy talking to her?

character: shigaraki tomura

genre: smut

notes: okaaaay so it’s a teeny tiny bit more than just talking to her but ah anon! this ask immediately sparked an idea in my brain and i just had to write it for you! this is set within my flawless AU and it’s pretty much a prequel to part two!

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, semi-public sex, toxic relationships (jealousy, possessiveness), minimal prep, rough sex, noncon nonsexual touching from a stranger, size difference, implied yakuza

words: 4k

Tomura hates these things.

As far as he’s concerned, these overly extravagant ‘work functions’ are nothing more than an excuse for a bunch of bigwigs and hotshots to get together and jerk each other off.

Really, it’s not much different than a college house party; if you take away the opulent venue and the nice clothes and good food, it’s practically the exact same thing.

He hadn’t wanted to bring you, fucking despises the thought of having you in the presence of any of these animals at all—disgusting and crude and primal and dangerous—but Kurogiri had insisted.

It looks good to include her, Tomura, he had said. You know how important these events are to your father.

And he knows how important you are to Tomura. But Tomura supposes that doesn’t matter nearly as much in his father’s eyes, now, does it?

In his mind, you’re just some silly little girl, a shiny new toy for Tomura to play with, to occupy his son’s time until he needs him, until he once again deems him useful. Then it’s expected you’ll be cast aside in favour of the family business, because nothing could ever be more important to Tomura, poor little orphaned Tomura, saved from the clutches of poverty by the Shigarakis, than the family business he’s being groomed to own one day, right?

Wrong.

But his father doesn’t give a fuck about that. He’s right if he says he’s right, end of discussion, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

So you’re here.

You had been cautiously excited to attend, desperate to earn his father’s favour, to prove that you’re worth it, worth all of the time and energy and love Tomura spends on you; that you can belong, if you really try to.

It’s sweet, really, how eager you are to be a part of the family. Impossibly, it makes Tomura love you even more.

Kurogiri’s been bouncing around the banquet hall like an efficient but headless chicken, splitting his time between checking in with guests and keeping a watchful eye on Tomura, since he has a nasty tendency to suddenly and miraculously disappear into thin air at these things.

The corner Tomura has the two of you wedged in is shrouded in shadows and at the back of the room, far from all of the excitement, the chattering voices and chewing teeth. It’s still loud, though, a mess of chaotic and indistinct noise, booming laughter tangled with confident speeches wafting over you in waves, carrying with them the scent of hors d’oeuvres from the self-serve table at the head of the room.

Your tummy growls, nothing more than a gentle rumble beneath Tomura’s palms, and he hugs you tighter, chin hooked over your shoulder as he nuzzles into your neck a little in apology.

“I’ll have Kurogiri grab you some food the next time he makes his rounds, baby, I promise.”

A dainty hand lays atop his own, fingers snuggling between the gaps of his own and resting there.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur, the side of your head knocking against his own.

And, oh, that word.

That special word, nothing more than a sweet huff of breath on your tongue, five little letters that get his blood surging and his chest puffing and his spine straightening.

That one word that summons the true dominant that lays dormant at his core, slept and stomped on by inherent brattiness; that single word that pumps his whole body full of heady authority, muscles swelling with it, tense and gorged on the power it affords him.

But then your tummy grumbles again and Tomura frowns, fingers flexing as they sink into your flesh, holding you closer. Your ankles hook around his calves in response, body melting further into his—giving in, giving over, complete and total control—sagging s little in his lap, and he sighs.

But there’s no way you can get up, no way he can allow you to get up, to go anywhere near the food so meticulously laid out across a long, white table. Because Tomura has already seen the way these mongrels called men have been staring at you, eyes sick and starved as they try to swallow you whole, gazes nipping at your bare legs, tearing at your sweet little dress.

Instinctively, his body curls further around your own, shoulders hunched and chest curved as it molds to your back, almost as if he’s trying to hide you away within himself, within his flesh and bone and soul, far away from those ogling eyes and their gnawing little teeth.

Kurogiri returns not long after, though he is not able to fulfill Tomura’s promise, a slight breathlessness to his tone as he delivers a directive.

“Tomura, your father needs your assistance.”

“What?” Tomura hisses, head whipping to face his handler, eyes narrowed sharply. “With what?”

“There are some people he’d like you to meet,” Kurogiri responds calmly, unfazed.

Tomura’s features pucker, the mere thought sour in his head. “You can tell him to fuck right off, I’m not—”

“Tomura,” Kurogiri cuts him off, stern but not sharp. “Is this appropriate behaviour for a CEO-in-training? These are very important guests—important clients, and it is imperative that you continue to keep our relationship with them in good standing.”

Scarlet eyes dart between you and Kurogiri, settling on the crown of your head, a certain type of woefulness imbuing his features—mouth turned down, eyes drooping slightly, forehead woven with lines of worry.

“She’ll be alright on her own for a second or two,” Kurogiri continues, voice softening. “It’ll only be for a moment, Tomura. Just come say hello.”

“Fine, fuck.”

With the utmost gentleness, Tomura slides you off his lap as he stands, taking your jaw between his palms, bony fingers splayed across your cheeks, so long his middle fingers nearly rest on your temples.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you laugh a little, nudging forward to press a quick peck to his lips. “Promise I’ll survive on my own while you’re gone.”

“You better,” he threatens, cold voice contradicted by the mirth shimmering in his eyes and the love tugging at the corners of his lips. “Be back in a minute or less.”

“Thirty seconds,” you hear him growling to Kurogiri as he stalks off, vying fingers already gouging his own flesh, nails leaving thick divots that pool rapidly with blood in their wake. “Thirty fucking seconds, that’s all they’re getting from me.”

Your eyes trail after him as he weaves through the space, an ache, dull and heavy, settling behind your ribs when you spot the ribbons of crimson adorning his neck, trickling onto his crisp white collar, Kurogiri hastily attempting to dab at them as Tomura viciously swipes at his hands.

The ache throbs, expands and pushes against your ribs as if it’s trying to escape the cage, as if it’s trying to propel you forward, urging you to act, to move, to go be with him.

“Hey,” a voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you startle slightly, gaze snapping towards its owner. “You looked lonely—Like a lost kitten, or something. This your first time at one of these things?”

It’s clearly a lie, you know it is, can see the falsities glimmering in his stretched smile, wide and tense and hungry across his cheeks—there’s no way this man didn’t see you with Tomura only mere seconds ago.

“Uh—”

“I’m Shin,” he continues, eyes obscured by the chandelier lights glinting off his glasses. Even veiled, you can feel it, the man’s slimy gaze gliding up your body, slowly, studiously, and leaving a filmy trail behind it. Your flesh crawls along your bones, feeling wrong, dirty, bare, and you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging your ribs. “Nemoto Shin. I work for a, uh, friend of the Shigarakis.”

“Oh,” you say, dull as your eyes skip across the crowd, feet shifting a little as you lean away, hunting for Tomura in a sea of businessmen.

“Actually, I’m a doctor of sorts.”

Your narrowed gaze drifts back to his, eyebrows knitted slightly.

“Of sorts?”

“A chemist, kind of.”

“Kind of?”

Smirking, he tilts his head to the side as if he finds you fascinating, revealing dark eyes as the light catches on his hair.

“I run clinical trials, collect data, and then revise.”

And it’s the way he says it, voice imbued with a sort of deranged glee that smears his sharp smile wider, as if he takes pleasure in conducting these experiments, that has shivers skittering up your spine, nails digging into your biceps as your arms squeeze your torso.

“On people?”

“Of course.”

“Oh. That’s, uh...”

Your eyes dart around the venue again, expensive silk suits and leather loafers all a blur as you search for an out, a familiar face, someone, anyone.

“You know,” Shin begins conversationally, taking a step closer to you. “You look like you’re about the correct age and height for our newest study.”

Large hands wrap around your own, fast and sudden, and forcefully uncurl your fingers, tugging your arms from around your body and holding them out wide, leaning back on his heels to fully appreciate you.

“In fact, I’d say you’re perfect.”

A discontented whine catches in your throat as you struggle in his grasp, attempting to pull your wrists free, Shin’s grip tightening to near bone-crushing in response.

Yelping, you wrench again, trying harder to jerk yourself away from him. He merely laughs in response, a sound that shoots spikes of ice through your limbs, and yanks your arms open further, tutting his tongue as if your struggle is so adorable, head quirked to the side with an egging smirk.

“What do you say? Want to participate?”

“No, you bastard! Ugh, let go of me!”

“C’mon,” he goads, eyes gleaming with poorly concealed sadism. “I promise it won’t hurt. In fact,” his head dips a little, looking at you over the wire of his spectacles. “You might even enjoy it.”

“She’s good. Thanks, though.”

Tomura’s voice has the man flinching, a jolt of panic surging through his veins and loosening his muscles, your arms dropped from his hands in an instant. He recovers quickly, though, any traces of alarm smoothed out from his expression a second later, features morphed into a perfect mask of professionalism.

“Tomura,” he says with a polite nod, a small but appropriate smile on his face. “You’re looking well.”

Tomura says nothing in response, glaring at him through sharpened eyes, crimson simmering with such anger you swear you can see the heat waves radiating from his sockets. He holds the man’s gaze until, finally, the man looks away with a cower, head hung in submission.

And then Tomura’s turning away with a sneer, catching your hands, busy mauling his biceps in desperation, with ease and wrapping a palm around your arm.

“Fucking vultures,” he’s spitting as he all but drags you from the venue, the fingers cuffed around your wrist tensing. “I leave for, like, a minute and they’re all over you.”

“I—I’m sorry,” you’re whimpering as your free hand winds around his forearm, jogging a little in your haste to keep up with his pace.

“Sorry?” he questions, the word seething on his tongue, as if you’re stupid for even apologizing at all. “It isn’t your fault, princess.”

And even though his voice is still scalding, the look he throws you over his shoulder is soft, stuffed full of love.

“Besides,” he’s continuing as he shoves past the heavy glass doors at the entrance of the hall. “I’m gonna show those fuckers who you belong to.”

The satin toe of your heels catches on the rough concrete, instantly causing it to scuff and fray as Tomura hauls you along behind him, the slap of his trademark red sneakers echoing out among the parking lot with each hasty stomp toward his car.

“Tomura, wait!” you’re calling as you teeter quickly behind him.

But he isn’t listening, your staggering not nearly fast enough for his liking, giving another harsh yank on your arm with such vigour it sends you stumbling right into his back, ankles wobbling a little as you almost trip over your own feet, a little yelp sounding in your throat.

He catches you easily, though, skinny arms wrapping around your form, offering minimal stability as they slam you against the driver’s door of the Bentley, effectively trapping you between the metal and his body.

Knobby knees are parting your legs instantly, sharp as they barge at your inner thighs and force them open, his feet framed by your own.

His hips slot up against yours, bones defined and protruding as they press into your supple flesh, his cock already half-hard.

And, God, you’ll never tire of how easily he gets hard, just the thought of your cunt enough to send a rush of boiling blood to the apex of his thighs, to fill his cock, a girlish giggle bubbling past your lips.

“Something funny?” he’s asking as large hands cup your jaw, fingers curling around the hinges and dragging your face upward, prohibiting you from answering as he all but smashes his lips to yours, keen tongue prying through your lips to lick at your teeth.

It’s messy and enthusiastic, just like kissing Tomura always is, smears of drool glistening across your chin and dripping off your jaws in fat, sticky globs to cool in little puddles on your collarbones, dribbling steadily from the corners of your lips as they move and mash and mesh.

His hands work in tandem with his mouth, large palms sliding up your thighs and beneath your dress, hem pooling around his wrists as he reaches your pretty pink panties, revealing your bare legs to the throngs of men clustered around the gilded doors, leering at you through hazy clouds of cigar smoke.

A squeak of his name is pushed from your tongue onto his, muddled and weighted with spit, eyes popping open as vying fingers begin to twist and tear through dainty lace, elastic band snapping audibly against your waist a moment later, leaving a lingering sting in its place.

“Daddy!” you whine as your panties flit to the asphalt in a ruined little heap, legs instinctually trying to snap shut only to be kept wedged open by his hips, a dark chuckle soaking into your skin as his lips glide clumsily from your mouth to your jaw and down the curve of your neck, painting your skin in slick strokes of saliva.

“I’ll buy you more, y’little brat,” he mumbles into your shoulder, teeth sinking into the muscle a moment later and forcing a pitchy cry from your throat, the sound embarrassingly loud, echoing through the parking lot.

His jaw flexes, tenses, burrowing sharp ivory deeper into your flesh until they slice through it, staining his mouth with your blood. His tongue laves over the wound, sops up the oozing blood like it’s sugary syrup tinged with copper, and seals the bite with spit that turns frigid the moment his mouth is gone.

A large hand squeezes your thigh, fingertips dipping into plush skin as they hoist your leg up, hooking it over his hip. You can feel his clothed cock, prodding your bare hole as he ruts unevenly against you, premature little thrusts that he can’t quite seem to quell.

A collection of baritone murmurs draws your attention back to the men, tendrils of smoke coiling in the air as they watch the scene in front of them unfold, exhaling little chuckles and comments among themselves, eyes never straying from your bodies.

It all feels so fucking grimy, their gazes sludgy as they creep across your frame, thick like glue as Tomura’s free hand traces up the curves of your torso to knead your breast much too hard, eliciting a low whistle and a smattering of claps.

“Daddy, Daddy, they’re looking,” you whimper, casting another quick glance at the men and wincing when your eyes connect with theirs.

“Let them look.”

“Tomura!”

“I want them to look,” he growls, a sort of petulant possessiveness bleeding into his tone. “I want them to see who you fucking belong to, I want them to see what they can’t touch, I want them to see who it is that makes you cry and scream and cum. ”

“No, Daddy, please,” little fingers curl in the cashmere of his dress shirt, attempting to use his body as a shield. “Not here, not like this, not all out in the open—”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a baby.”

“No, no, no,” you’re nearly weeping, head shaking in shuddered little movements.

Panic rips viciously at your chest, rising high in your voice as protests pour from your lips, heated face burrowing into the junction of his neck. You’re pawing at his shirt now, a few of the buttons popping open to reveal milky skin stretched over a prominent collarbone.

“You can do it, angel,” he chides, voice just a hint gentler. “I know you can do it for me.”

A hiccup hitches in your throat, caught painfully on a breath, interrupting your stream of pleads, burning tears leaking from your crunched eyelids and staining his collar with salt.

“Please, please, please,” the word is humid against his neck, exhaled on shaky little gasps, letters disintegrating into droplets of condensation on his scarred skin. “I don’t wanna, please, Daddy, I don’t—”

“All right, Christ,” he’s groaning over your pathetic begging, pivoting your bodies quickly and keeping an arm wrapped around your waist as he rips the drivers door open.

Collapsing heavily behind the wheel, he pulls you down with him, hands rough and cumbersome as they try to rearrange your body into straddling him.

It’s cramped, one knee digging into the centre console while the other leg bends, foot planted on the leather of the seat.

“Get my fucking cock out,” he’s spitting at you the moment the door shuts, hips pushing upwards in emphasis. “I can’t fucking wait any longer.”

You’re obeying in an instant, dainty fingers clawing at the buckle of his belt, leather cracking as you yank it free from the prong. Then he’s lifting his hips again, aiding you as your fingers hook in the waistband of his briefs and tug, pulling his trousers down with them.

His thighs spread instinctively, elastic and cotton cutting into thin muscle.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he’s muttering as his palms wrap around your hips again, dragging you towards him to hover over his swollen, leaking cock. A hand grips the base, holding it steady as he lines it up with your hole, the head bumping against your cunt.

For the breath of a moment, everything is still, your combined panting ragged as it rings throughout the car, dense and tangled. Your forehead knocks against his own, hands clamped over the back of his seat.

And then he’s shoving his cock into you with one quick, sharp thrust upward, a high whine escaping your lips as your face scrunches in pain.

Your cute little hole stings as his cock tears through it, rips you open wide and forces you to take it all, a loud cry spilling from your lips as Tomura holds your hips in place, savouring the way you spasm around him, desperately trying to adjust to his girth.

The pace is brutal right from the start—not that you’ve come to expect anything less from Tomura—the snapping of his hips vicious as he pounds into you, sweet little snarls falling from scarred lips with each slam of his cockhead against your cervix.

There’s nothing for you to do but just take what he’s giving you, his grip on your waist blooming tiny blotches of blues and purples in the shape of his fingerprints into your skin as he holds you in place, thighs flexing in time with his powerful thrusts, the soles of his sneakers skidding against the rubber floor mat as he uses his feet for leverage.

It hurts, but Tomura doesn’t care, hips rapid, rabid, ruthless as they piston into you, so rough and hard and fast that it has your entire body shuddering, the thin, sharp heel of your stiletto skidding against white leather, tearing it open.

It hurts, but it’s also so fucking good, choked little wails of his name and his title knotted on your tongue, each one fucked out of you as he bounces you on his cock, easy and effortless like you’re nothing more than his favourite little toy.

And there’s something so hot about it all, something so wicked and disgusting and deliciously depraved about fucking in the middle of a crowded parking lot, open and on display for anyone to see as the sun begins its descent below the horizon, lacking the protective veil the night brings with it.

You can feel their eyes searing into your skin, glaring and gawking, wide and unblinking, the Bentley’s thick windows doing little to lessen the smoldering of their gazes as they roam your body, the Bentley’s bulletproof glass muffling the howls and the whistles.

It sends sick thrills racing through your veins, leaving your blood fizzy and muscles tingling, a loud moan, stuttered by Tomura’s incessant bucking, tumbling from your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it, baby,” he says, but his voice is hoarse, straining under pleasure, edges of his words breathy, almost whiny in a way, as if he’s begging instead of instructing. “Show them. Show them how pretty my cock makes you.”

“Yes, Daddy, yes, Daddy,” you’re whimpering out, head nodding in tiny, short motions with your words.

And you do—ever the perfect, obedient, good little girl that you are—cumming pathetically quickly, the fast, hard drag of his cockhead over that swollen patch of tissue buried deep inside of you combined with the peeping, prying eyes resulting in your sweet cunt convulsing almost violently around his cock, thighs aching and tense as his title shatters on your tongue.

It’s so much, slick gushing down his shaft to soak into the waistband of his pants, bare thighs slippery with your essence, sick and sticky with each slap against your ass, obscene sounds echoing throughout the car.

“F-Fuck,” he gasps, the curse cracking in his throat, head knocking back against the headrest and face contorting in ecstasy, watching you through lidded eyes and thick black lashes.

His thrusts have turned messy now, rhythm sloppy and irregular as he jackhammers into you almost desperately, clenched teeth bared and on display.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy—” you’re mewling, grappling little fingers twisting in his damp shirt, nonverbal begging imbued in the motion.

“M’cumming,” he nearly moans, cutting you off before you can even ask for it.

He gives you exactly what you want, a mere two thrusts later, whole body going rigid as his nails gorge themselves on the flesh of your hips, holding you still as his cock pumps you full of thick, hot cum.

And he’s so fucking beautiful, breathtakingly so, so much that it decays your words and kicks them from your chest in frail little huffs.

Sliver tufts of hair have flipped upwards, clumped and curled with salt, tiny dewdrops of sweat collecting on the points, glittering in the waning sunlight. The white of his shirt has turned translucent, sodden and sticking to his juddering ribs, expanding and straining beneath his heavy, laboured breaths, the whole cage starkly defined, shadows outlining all of the curves and contours, bumps and ridges, each bone and every gap.

But then he’s pulling you from your admiration, gangly arms wrapping around your body tightly.

“Mine,” he murmurs as he hugs you to his chest, whole body finally deflating, soaking into your own.

“Yours,” you whisper with a little nod, pressing chaste kisses along his scarred neck. “Yours, forever.”

His. Forever.

He hopes they all understand who you fucking belong to, now, hopes they’ll keep their grubby hands and grimy gazes off of you, now, but should any of them forget—well, neither of you are necessarily opposed to teaching them this lesson again.

#shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki tomura x reader #bnha smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #eee hehe enjoy!!!! it's just something smaaaall but i really enjoyed writing it!

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