My Hero Academia - The Ultra Stage | Best Of RAITA As Tomura Shigaraki (½)

Unconcerned about whatever activity you might be occupied with, Tomura carefully grabs your wrist and leisurely lifts your shirt to press a kiss to your belly. He can be careless, letting his knuckles brush against your breasts in doing so, his other hand gripping your hip slightly pulling down your shorts exposing the side of your panties.

It's an astounding notion, being able to touch you to his heart's content. All of his life never once has he allowed himself to touch anything so freely. Anything he didn't want to slip through his fingers in ashes. Destroying is different. It's easy. It's what he was born for. But to caress? He hardly ever knew tender touches. He's not sure that he's able to do it right, either. It feels clumsy, like it's not meant to him. But you always let him. You trust that he won't tear, bruise, shatter. There must be something deeply wrong with you, he thinks. Maybe you're like those who skydive or swim with sharks just to have adrenaline running through their veins. Maybe risking your life gets you off. Relinquishing control to him. Maybe it makes you feel safe, at ease, to know that it's someone else deciding whether you live or die. You can't really be blamed for the consequences of your actions if no choice is up to you. Does his deadly touch makes you feel free? He's being ridiculous and he knows it as you run your fingers through his hair and slide your nails up his exposed arm. You're gentle.

It's a terrifying thought that you could let him because you want to. That you seek to be touched just as much as he seeks to touch you. That you might...It can't be. He can't afford the luxury of entertaining the thought.

Doesn't matter now. Just lie still against him like this.

I'm tired af !

I began to write a oneshot of a smut and hell it take me so long i'm so bad at it 😭😭

I don't really know you but you have my full support TvT

I apologize to all my followers for how mentally unwell I am about Sun's new voicelines in Help Wanted 2

Yay team pokemon fire✨✨✨ma fav is Blaziken idk how to say his started in english

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 15) -- a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever.

But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

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

Chapter 15

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. Right now the thing that’s wrong with your house isn’t the ghost who haunts it, but the fact that said ghost is on day five of an extended sulk. With every day closer to your departure, Tomura’s gotten mopier, and no matter how many times you explain to him that you’ll only be gone for two days, it doesn’t seem to stick.

It’s Friday morning, and you’re leaving directly after work, which means you have to say goodbye to Tomura this morning. He’s not making it easy. “Someone else can go. Aizawa can go,” he complains. “I don’t see why you have to.”

“I’m the one who started looking into this. And Aizawa has kids to look after.” You finish packing your bag and zip it up. “Are you sure you’re okay to watch Phantom? Spinner said he would –”

“I know to feed her and play with her and let her out. I’m way better at taking care of our dog than Spinner.” Tomura is scowling worse than before, and you feel slightly guilty. You like hearing Tomura say that Phantom is both of yours, but that’s not a good enough reason to wind him up. “Why do you have to stay away that long?”

“It’s going to take me six hours to get there. I won’t be there until midnight tonight. I’ll take all of Saturday and some of the next day going over the documents, and I’ll be back late on Sunday.” You pick up your bag and start down the stairs. “I don’t like being away, either. I like it here.”

“Then don’t leave.”

“I have to.” You set your bag down by the front door, then crouch down to say goodbye to Phantom. You haven’t left her alone for this long in a while, and you’re going to miss her. If it wasn’t for Tomura, there’s no way you’d take this trip.

Tomura didn’t follow you down the stairs, and you hear his voice echo through a house that already feels a little too empty. “I won’t have anybody to talk to.”

You thought about that, too. You thought about it and decided that not talking to Tomura for two days wasn’t something you were prepared to tolerate. “Can you come down here? I’ve got something for you.”

Tomura’s footsteps are slow, almost reluctant, as he makes his way down the stairs. “What is it?” he asks. You don’t answer – you’re too busy searching through your hall closet for a bag you stashed there months ago. “If you want me to kiss you before you leave, just say that. Don’t act weird and –”

He stops talking when he sees the bag you’re holding out. “It’s a present,” you say. “Sort of. Open it.”

Tomura’s not very good at opening presents. He shreds the bag, followed by the box, and a charger cable and a pair of headphones fall out and clatter to the floor. He avoids dropping the main event, if nothing else – the smartphone remains in the palm of his hand, and he stares at it suspiciously. “This is for me?”

“We can set it up really quick right now.” If you were smart, you’d have done this last night, but last night you were busy – not with sex, which would have at least been fun, but with trying to snap Tomura out of his over-the-top bad mood. You beckon him closer and he hovers over your shoulder as you start the process. “See, this is your profile. What do you want to set your name as?”

“My name.” Tomura watches as you set it. “Now what?”

You adjust his phone so it’ll always be on battery saver, hook it up to the WiFi so he won’t burn through all your data, and mute all his alert sounds. “Now we’re going to get you some contacts. People you can call or text if you need to.”

You probably spent a lot more time than necessary thinking about whose numbers you should give to Tomura. You ruled out Dabi’s and Hizashi’s instantly – the last thing you want to do is give Tomura the ability to start fights with either of them whenever he wants. Giving Tomura Keigo’s number is risky, but you’re pretty sure Dabi doesn’t know Keigo’s passcode. Tomura gets Aizawa’s number, and Spinner’s, and Jin and Jin’s mom. Jin’s mom, after pleading from Himiko and significant hesitation, agreed to let you add Himiko’s number to Tomura’s phone. You add the other ghosts, too, even though Tomura doesn’t really need a phone to talk to any of them. Last of all, you add Mr. Yagi.

Tomura doesn’t like that. “I don’t want him on my phone. Get rid of him.”

“You don’t ever have to call him,” you say. “It’s just in case.”

“In case what?”

You don’t really know. Tomura makes an irritated noise. “I want Izuku’s number.”

“You can’t have Izuku’s number. Even I don’t have it.” You wouldn’t want it, honestly. Giving Izuku unlimited opportunities to text you or Tomura feels like a stunningly bad idea. “Okay, that’s everybody. Only text them if it’s important, not to start fights. I don’t want to have to fix the fence again.”

“I know,” Tomura says, annoyed. He studies his phone, then looks up at you. “Where are you? Are you in here?”

“I’ve been texting you all the contacts.” You tap your number. “This one is me. You can name me something if you want.”

You show him how to edit the contact, then watch with a little too much interest as he selects a name. He hesitates for a long time, then looks at you. “What am I in your phone?”

“Um –” You added him as a contact already. You hold out the phone for him to examine, and he studies it like he’s reading a textbook. “It’s just your name. Tomura. See? I thought about adding the ghost emoji, but that would have been silly. I can add it if you want.”

Tomura shakes his head, then sets your phone aside and types your name into his as your contact. Which is fine. Except then he adds a display name – My Human. “Hey,” you complain. “Don’t do that. I used your name.”

He smirks. Part of you wants to change his display name to something like “my asshole ghost” to return fire, but before you can say anything, Keigo honks his car horn and hollers from outside. “Hey, if we’re going, we need to go now!”

“We’re going!” you shout back. You pick up your bag and your work backpack and race out to his car. You’re about to get in when you realize you haven’t said goodbye to Tomura yet. And that you’re missing your phone. “Shit –”

“I have your stupid phone.” Tomura’s on the other side of the fence. You reach for it, but he holds it just out of range. “I want a kiss first.”

“I was going to kiss you anyway,” you say. You lean across the property line, grasp his shoulder to pull him closer, and kiss him goodbye. You don’t stop until Keigo honks the horn again.

You’ve been in relationships before, but none of your exes ever insisted on a goodbye kiss when you had to leave for more than a day, let alone a goodbye kiss in full view of the entire neighborhood. You’re a little giddy on the drive to work, and Keigo, to his credit, doesn’t rib you too much about it. “He knows you’re not going off to war, right?”

“He knows.” You slouch down in the passenger seat. “He’s been moping all week. Did Touya do that?”

“When I was gone for too long, Touya broke out of the house,” Keigo says. Your jaw drops. “He and a bunch of other ghosts haunted this old-style family compound, and each of them was confined to a specific area. He broke out of his and into somebody else’s. You can guess how that went. So that ghost broke out of their assigned haunt, and then –”

You remember what Keigo said about ghost fights. “How many ghosts were there, total?”

“Six.” Keigo winces. “I moved pretty fast after that.”

Dabi sounds like he was a lot to deal with even back when he was Touya. A terrible thought occurs to you. “You don’t think Tomura would –”

“You told him where you were going,” Keigo points out. “And you got him a phone so he can talk to you. When it was me I just dipped for a day or two. I had no idea Touya was going to take it like that.”

“So that was kind of early on for you guys?”

“I guess.” Keigo sighs. You’re at a stoplight, and he hits his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Anyway, that one was on me. If he’d been a normal roommate I would have told him where I was going. So I think you’re probably fine. But we’ll let you know if anything weird starts happening.”

You’re hoping it won’t. You change the subject. “Thanks for giving me a ride. Parking in the station lot for two days was going to be expensive.”

“No problem. I was headed this way anyway,” Keigo says. “It’s better that you’re taking the train than driving. Less expensive.”

“It’s harder to track, too,” you say. “I don’t think anybody’s watching, but – still. Better safe than sorry.”

“Definitely,” Keigo agrees. He merges onto the highway and floors it to a speed he swears the cops don’t pull people over for. “Nobody wants a repeat of last time.”

You’re hoping to avoid it. That’s what this trip is about. When you shared the idea with Mr. Yagi and Aizawa, they both approved, although they both suggested that they should go instead of you. You held your ground. Even fifteen years after his embodiment, Mr. Yagi has a reputation among ghosts, and Aizawa’s carrying around Hizashi’s marks with no conjurer-forged bracelets to conceal them. Besides, you’re the one who found the asylum, who found Shigaraki Yoichi. Since there’s basically nothing else you can do to help, you want to see this through.

But that doesn’t mean you’re looking forward to the trip. In fact, your dread of it increases throughout the day, until you’re dragging your feet along with your suitcase as you walk to the train. Some part of you knows the dread is irrational, but it’s hard to shake, and it’s got nothing at all to do with conjurers, asylums, or ghosts. The city nearest to the asylum is the one your parents moved to, after you went to college and they sold the house you grew up in. And you and your parents have an agreement to check in whenever you’re in the same city as they are. When you texted them to tell them you’d be there for the weekend, they told you to cancel your hotel reservation and invited you to stay with them.

It’s been over two years since you last saw them. Last time it was awkward, and it was awkward the time before that, too. Your parents’ ambitions for you included a college degree and financial independence, and once you hit those milestones, it was clear at least to you that they have no idea what to make of you. But turning down their offer of a place to stay would have made things worse, and besides, hotel rooms are expensive. Saving money is worth an awkward weekend at your parents’ new home. You’ve never been there before.

You doze on and off on the train, waking up at every stop and checking your phone. Tomura hasn’t texted you, but then again, why would he? He existed in the house alone long before you were even born. Maybe he’s figuring out that he likes the peace and quiet, too.

The thought doesn’t sit well with you, and you’re crabby for the rest of the ride, although you do your best to shake it off once you arrive. The meeting with your parents will be difficult enough without you being irritated at the ghost in your house at the same time. It’s just past eleven-thirty as you make the short walk to your parents’ house from the station, your stomach growling the entire way. You’ll have to order in from somewhere once you’re settled for the night.

Their house is in a small new development, multiple homes clustered around a large central courtyard. You step through the gate and make your way across it to your parents’ front door. You check your phone one last time, ordering yourself not to be disappointed when you see that Tomura hasn’t reached out. Then you raise one hand and press the doorbell.

The door swings open almost immediately, and your father smiles at you in a way that gives you pause. He reaches out and lifts your suitcase out of your hand, then pulls you into the house and into a hug shortly afterward. For lack of anything better to do, you hug him back.

He’s smaller than you remember. More frail, and there’s more grey in his hair. How old are your parents now? Pushing seventy – they had you late, and you’ve always had the impression that you were sort of an accident. “It’s been too long,” your father says to you. He waits while you take off your shoes, then beckons you further down the hall. “Come along. We held back dinner so we could eat together.”

That doesn’t sound right. You rarely ate with both parents at once when you were a kid; family mealtimes were no one’s priority, and you ate with whichever parent was in the house at dinnertime, or you ate alone. “Why?”

Your father gives you an odd look. “It’s been too long,” he says again, as if the distance is all your fault, as if they couldn’t have reached out just as easily. “And it seems you’ll be very busy this weekend. This might be the only time we can catch up.”

“I have a lot to do,” you admit. Your father sets your suitcase down just inside the door of a room and continues down the hall. You can smell food cooking. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

Your mother is busy in the kitchen, but when you go to help her, she waves you off, under instructions to wash your hands and get settled. “I’m making your favorite,” she tells you, and smiles. But then you see the smile waver. “Is it still your favorite?”

“I make it all the time,” you say. “It never tastes quite like yours.”

Tomura’s observed you working on the recipe more than once, and he always makes fun of you for changing it each time. No matter what you change, you can’t make it taste right, but maybe – “If you won’t let me help, can I stay and watch?”

“Of course,” your mother says. “It’s been too long.”

You wish they’d both stop saying that. If they wanted you to talk to them more now, they should have talked to you when you were a kid. Hizashi’s words pop into your head, like they do every so often: Mommy and Daddy didn’t love you enough. Maybe they didn’t. Or maybe they just didn’t know what to do with a kid once they had one.

Your phone makes the sad chiming sound that tells you it’s running low on battery, and you dig up your charger and plug it in, leaving it balanced on the corner of the kitchen counter as you watch your mom cook. Watching her, it’s easy to see where you went wrong in the recipe, or where you went wrong by following the recipe – there are spices your mom uses that are nowhere to be found on the ingredient list. You didn’t watch her cook very often as a kid. Maybe you should have asked if you could help.

The three of you sit down to dinner, and it’s beyond weird. The family dinners you remember were full of silence, but it’s been over two years since you last saw your parents, which means there’s a lot to talk about. You’re not sure how to talk about your life now, so you ask your parents about theirs, and hear that your dad’s retired but your mom is working part-time teaching English at a local middle school. They like their neighbors a lot. In fact, they want you to meet their neighbors tomorrow night. Apparently the neighbors have been asking about you.

“We told them a little, but you’re so busy that we haven’t talked in a while,” your mom says. Now you get why they invited you to stay here. Not knowing what your only child is up to looks pretty bad. “How have things been for you? Are you still working in the public defenders’ office?”

“What about law school?” Your dad takes a sip of his drink. Sometime in the last three years, your parents got sort of into fancy wine. “Are you still planning to go back?”

“Yeah. Money’s still an issue. I had a hard time saving with how high my rent was.” You try your own wine, but you don’t know enough about wine to know if it’s any good. “I bought a house, though. So I guess that’s new.”

It’s quiet for a bit. When you look up from your plate, you find your parents staring at you with their jaws dropped. “You bought a house?” your mother repeats. “You can’t afford law school. How can you afford a house?”

“I didn’t have enough for law school. I had enough for a downpayment,” you say. “My mortgage payments are cheaper than my rent was.”

“That’s hard to imagine. Is it in a good neighborhood?” your dad asks. “If it isn’t – what’s funny?”

Your neighborhood, being good. “There are five other houses besides mine. Three of them have families in them. They’ve been really nice to me, mostly. We all get together sometimes.”

“What for?”

Strategy sessions. Ghost fights on the sidewalk. Conjurer ambushes that end with half the street wrecked and some of you injured. “Just regular stuff. I went to one of the kids’ parties last weekend. I brought Phantom. She was a hit.”

“Who?”

“My dog,” you say. “I’d just gotten her the last time we talked. Don’t you remember?”

“She sent us a picture,” your dad reminds your mom, while you tamp down your frustration. “Is someone looking after her this weekend?”

“Yeah. My –” The stumbling block of how to describe Tomura temporarily breaks your brain. “A friend.”

You covered it well, you think – but you weren’t fast enough. “What kind of friend?” your mother asks, way too interested. “A special friend?”

“God, Mom. No.” You imagine the look on Tomura’s face if he heard someone refer to him as your “special friend” and experience a brief but powerful urge to crawl into a vent and die. “A friend. Really, I could have asked anybody in the neighborhood. They’re all really – nice.”

“A house,” your father muses. “In a good neighborhood. You must have a lot of friends over.”

You can’t tell if he’s needling you or not. He knows you’ve never been the type to have a lot of friends. “It’s kind of a ways out from where everybody else lives. Most people don’t like driving that far.”

“Oh, so that’s how you could afford it.”

You could afford it because it’s so goddamn haunted that nobody else wanted it, and the only reason you kept it is because the ghost who haunts it let you stay. “I don’t mind. I’d rather drive than have roommates and a landlord.”

Your father nods sagely. Your mother’s on a different track. “What about dating? Is there anybody special?”

“No,” you say, lying your ass off. “I’m not seeing anybody.”

Your phone starts ringing on the counter, but you ignore it, and so do your parents. “I don’t want to rush you, but you ought to get a move on, don’t you think?” your mother presses. “You’re going to be twenty-seven soon. If you don’t hurry up, all the good ones will be gone. Don’t you want to settle down?”

“I’m as settled down as I’m going to get,” you say. Your phone starts ringing again, and you ignore it again, even though you’d almost take a telemarketer over this conversation. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“You’re not disappointing us if that’s what makes you happy,” your dad says, and you’re impressed for about two seconds before he ruins it. “Are you sure that’s what will make you happy? What about –”

“What about kids?” your mother breaks in, looking honestly distressed. “Don’t you want kids? You’d be such a good mom –”

You would possibly be the worst mom on the planet. Your phone starts ringing again. “Are you going to get that?” your dad asks.

You should. Three calls in a row means it’s important, but this line of questioning from your parents is pissing you off, which means you’re not in the mood to do anything you should be doing. “Nope.”

“I’ll get it,” your mom announces. She picks up the phone and gasps. “Who’s Tomura?”

Your stomach drops like you’ve been kicked off a building. “Nobody,” you say. “He’s –”

“I knew you had a special friend!”

“He’s not a special friend!”

Your mom brandishes your phone, triumphant. “Then why is there a heart next to his name?”

He wouldn’t. He – you stare at the screen of your phone, and sure enough, there’s Tomura’s name on the caller ID, complete with an obnoxiously red heart emoji. You’re going to kill him. You seize the phone, accept the call, and press it to your ear. “What?”

Tomura sounds unfathomably sulky when he answers. “You got me the phone so we can talk while you aren’t here. Why didn’t you pick up?”

“I’m having dinner with my parents. It’s rude to pick up the phone at dinner.” You’re conscious of your parents staring at you with identical gleeful looks on their faces. “Just like it’s rude to call somebody three times in a row. What was so important?”

“You didn’t call me all day.”

“You didn’t call me, either,” you point out, trying not to lose your temper. If he had called you, you’d have noticed his little edit to his contact and gotten rid of it. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. Phantom ate and everything.” Tomura’s quiet for a second. “You have parents?”

“Yesh,” you say. Did you tell him that’s who you were staying with? You don’t remember. “I’m staying with them, not at the hotel. They invited me.”

Tomura swears under his breath. You can hear him rustling around, but you’re not sure what he’s doing, and the longer you give your parents to prep for their interrogation, the worse it’s going to be for you. “Can I call you back in a little bit? I do want to talk to you. I just – can’t right now.”

“How long is a little bit?”

“I don’t know,” you say hopelessly. Why does it matter? It’s not like he’s going to fall asleep. “I will, though. I promise. I miss you.”

The words leave your mouth before you can really think them through, but it’s the truth. You do miss Tomura. You miss him extra right now, and you’re not looking forward to falling asleep without his presence lurking somewhere in the room. When you wake up from nightmares of the world between, he and Phantom are the only things that make you feel better. “I miss you, too,” Tomura says. Then he hangs up the phone.

You set it aside, then turn back to face your parents. “So,” your mother says, grinning, “who’s Tomura?”

Your ghost. The reason why you don’t date anymore. The reason why you’re as settled as you’re ever going to be and the reason why your parents aren’t getting grandkids and the reason you’re here at all in the first place. There’s no way to explain him that your parents will understand, so you pick the one thing they will understand, even if it’s sort of wrong. “My boyfriend.”

You stagger off to bed forty-five minutes later, feeling like you’ve been run over by a train. Your mom had lots of questions – about where you met Tomura, how long you’ve been seeing him, what he looks like, what he does for a living – almost all of which you had to lie about. You’re going to have to remember all those lies later, too. Your dad was more concerned about why you’d lie about having a boyfriend, at which point you lost patience a little bit and said that the conversation the three of you just had about it was all the reason you needed. Then your mom said she wanted to meet him, and you decided it was time to start clearing the table.

They have a guest room, which is where you’re staying. You get ready for bed, go inside, and shut the door before checking your phone again. You’ve got messages from Tomura – and from Keigo. You open Keigo’s first and grimace when you see what it says. The lights in your house are going berserk right now. If he’s trying to get ahold of you, you should pick up the phone.

Keigo sent a video, too. In it, the lights inside your house are flickering wildly, and the entire property seems to be surrounded by some kind of weird, wavering forcefield. Great. You check Tomura’s texts next. He wants to know where you are. Why you haven’t called him. Then there are a few texts of him winding himself up over reasons why you haven’t called him, externalizing a thought process you would have kept to yourself if it killed you, before it occurs to him that something might have happened to you. At which point the phone calls started. You dig your headphones out of your backpack, put them on, plug them in, and call Tomura back.

He picks up halfway through the first ring, and you start talking first. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad. I just wasn’t planning to tell my parents about you, and because you called me when you did – and because you put that emoji in your display name – they found out.”

“Why does it matter if they found out?” Tomura asks. “Why don’t you want to tell them about me?”

You almost point out that you said you weren’t planning to, not that you didn’t want to, but Tomura knows what you really meant. He knows you better than you think he does. “You’re hard to explain,” you say. “To people who don’t know about ghosts. It wouldn’t make sense to them.”

“Why not?” Tomura’s climbing the stairs. You can hear them creaking under his feet. “You’re my human. Not the kind of human Spinner and Jin are. The kind Aizawa is.”

“The kind Keigo is,” you correct. Tomura makes an irritated sound. “Aizawa and Hizashi are married.”

“So what? You’re that kind of human. That’s not hard to explain.”

Maybe it isn’t. Maybe you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be. “I told my parents you’re my boyfriend. I hope that’s okay.”

“Boyfriend,” Tomura repeats, like he’s never heard it before – but when he speaks up again, it’s clear he’s got a handle on what it means. “If that’s what you have to call it so people understand, fine. As long as they know you’re my human.”

You could probably play off Tomura calling you his human as a cute nickname or something, but you’d really prefer not to have to do that. “If I tell people you’re my boyfriend, they’ll understand for sure.”

“Good.”

There’s some rustling around on Tomura’s end of the line. “What are you doing?”  you ask. “Where are you?”

There’s a prolonged silence, which means Tomura’s somewhere he thinks he’s not supposed to be. There aren’t many options left these days. “You’re on the bed, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. So what?” More rustling. “It’s weird that you’re not here. I hate it.”

“I don’t like it, either,” you admit. When you close your eyes, it’s easy to picture Tomura stretched out on your side of the bed, taking up the space you usually would, head resting on your pillow. “Maybe there won’t be as much to go through tomorrow as I thought and I can get home tomorrow night instead.”

“The sooner you come back, the better.” Phantom’s collar rattles in the background of the call, and you know she’s jumped up on the bed with Tomura. “Spinner came over. He said I needed a game that wasn’t Rainbow Fish, so he gave me one and taught me how to play it. It’s – Pokémon?”

“He gave you something to play it on, too, right?” You need to thank Spinner. “What do you think of it?”

“It’s okay. The music is weird.” Tomura’s voice fades for a second, and you can hear Phantom slobbering into the microphone. “It was more fun before he left. I don’t like playing games alone.”

“You can ask him back over. I bet he wouldn’t mind,” you say. “Which starter did you pick? Fire, water, or grass?”

“Fire,” Tomura says. You could have guessed that. “My rival had water, though. I should have picked grass.”

“If you picked grass, your rival would have picked fire.”

“So they always pick the one that can beat yours?” Tomura sounds honestly pissed at the unfairness, and it makes you smile. “That’s stupid.”

“It would be boring if it was too easy,” you say. Tomura complains under his breath. “And they can’t beat you if you build a good team. I used to play that a lot as a kid. I can help if you want.”

“I don’t need help,” Tomura says. “You can watch if you want.”

“That sounds nice.” You imagine sitting next to Tomura with your head on his shoulder, letting the goofy Pokémon music lull you into a doze. It’s a weirdly relaxing image. You find yourself swallowing a yawn. “Sorry –”

“Go to sleep. If you don’t you’ll be slow, and then you’ll have to stay the extra day.” Tomura sounds annoyed, but he sounds annoyed any time you have to end an interaction before he wants it to end, so you’re used to it. What you’re not used to is what he says next. “If you have one of your nightmares, don’t just lay there doing that weird shivering thing. Call me.”

You lie there for a moment, stunned. You’ve never mentioned the nightmares to him. You never breathed a word. “How did you know?”

“I know what sounds you make in your sleep. When you’re having a nightmare they’re wrong.” Tomura’s quiet for a moment. “Don’t just lay there. Call.”

Your throat feels tight. “Okay.”

Tomura hangs up. You pull your headphones out of your ears, set your phone down on the nightstand, and squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t need to cry. There’s no reason why your eyes should well up.

You’re in your parents’ house. It’s a new house, but it feels the same as the old house. Even though your parents listen now. Even though they care about what’s going on in your life – for their own reasons, sure, but they care – your family is still the same way it’s always been. Quiet. Distant. Sterile. Your parents have seemed happier the last few times you’ve seen them. You’ve never admitted it out loud, to anyone, but you think they’ve been happier since you moved out, because you moved out. And that was okay with you. The last time you went back to visit, it was fine.

It’s not fine anymore – not because they’re different, but because you are. You remember Tomura saying once that he didn’t care about being alone before, but he does now. You didn’t let yourself care about the way your family was before, but you can’t stop yourself from caring now, because now you know how it feels to actually belong somewhere. You belong at your house. You’re wanted at your house. You make someone happy by being there. Somebody misses you when you’re gone, tells you to hurry back, tells you to call if you’ve had a nightmare. There’s probably something fucked up about the fact that the only person you’ve ever felt at home with isn’t even human. But you know what it means to feel at home now. Being away from that is hard. Harder than you want to handle.

You scramble for your phone, and it starts ringing in your hand. Tomura’s contact, with its stupid heart. You jam your headphones into your ears and accept the call, and for a moment you and Tomura are just talking over each other. The gist of it is pretty clear, though. You were about to call him, just when he decided to call you. “Um –”

“Stay on the phone while you’re sleeping. That way I’ll hear. And I can wake you up.”

Your heart lifts even though it shouldn’t. “How are you going to wake me up?”

You picture Tomura shrugging. “I’ll just yell.”

“Don’t yell.” The only thing that would be worse than having one of your nightmares is waking up from one to the sound of Tomura hollering in your ear. “If you hear me start to have one, hang up the phone and call me back. I’ll hear it ringing and it’ll wake me up.”

“Yelling is faster.”

“And it’s scarier,” you say. “You’d know if you slept.”

“Ghosts can’t.” Tomura’s quiet for a moment. “I wish we could.”

That strikes you as weird. It strikes you as weird any time Tomura talks about wanting to do one of the few human things materialized ghosts can’t do. “Why?”

Tomura doesn’t answer. “Fine. I won’t yell. Go to sleep.”

“Tomura –”

“Go to sleep,” Tomura says again. If you try to talk anymore, he’ll just ignore you. You hear Phantom snoring in the background and tell yourself that it’s time to sleep. You shut your eyes.

Somehow knowing that Tomura’s there on the other end of the line, knowing that he’ll wake you up if you start having one of your nightmares of the world between, helps you fall asleep. You think you hear Tomura whisper something as you drift off, but there’s no way you heard him right. It has to be a dream. At least it’s a better dream than the ones you’ve been having lately.

some random headcanons of tomura that i thought of

just like ochaco, he sleeps either with gloves on or bandages on his pinky fingers

i’ve seen many people say tomura would listen metal or heavy metal but i really think he’d prefer game OST’s over anything>>>

blasts bury the light at 3am

he’d call kurogiri at 3am just to tell him about his plans to kill all might

apparently he’s awake all day, having anxiety attack cuz he drank monster on an empty stomach

i think he’s the type of guy to meticulously plan everything only to have it ruined by bad luck

he’d occasionally pick on his flaky skin/lips

he has a habit of collecting figures, only to leave on at the shelve without looking at it again

if you’re close to tomura, he’d invite you to eat something tasty and then tell you that he destroyed one of your items

tomura is not the type to use bar soap but rather dispenser soap…that’s if you’re lucky enough he used one

he doesn’t use his quirk much and he’s used to only using 4 fingers

very competitive and mean when he plays against you in a PvP game

too mean he’s not giving you an ounce of hope to win

you got upset and he decided to switch to simulation games instead (he doesn’t admit this but he plays animal crossing to relax)

say goodbye to your personal space, this man knows no boundaries

he’s not shy, he’s just like a cat that doesn’t know how to express its feelings to you

*gets jumpscared in a horror game* “fuck all might, fuck endeavor, fuck hawks, fuck—“

your man is the type to pick his food off the floor :(

shigaraki is the type of guy to buy you the most luxurious & beautiful black nightgown while he stays on his creeper boxers

tomura doesn’t like to shower on his own, he likes the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair 🚿🛀

(NSFW below this point:)

expect him to talkshit about all might mid-sex

i really think his hatred for all might surpasses his sex drive

prefers receiving and will be mean about it, he just likes making a mess of you

degradation & slight breeding kink

your boobs are his favorite pillows

he likes fucking you with the skirt on—

missionary & doggy 👑

call him sweet names during sex and he’ll melt under your arms

doesn’t like shower sex but a blowjob will do

i think he would be into somnophilia, only if you’re fine with it

Shigaraki With a Crush on Fem!Reader

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I carried it."

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

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

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

"O-okay."

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

"Where's your room?" Tomura asked.

"Skeptic's wing."

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

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

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

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

"Here."

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

"I, uh. Thank you, Shigaraki."

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

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

He made steps backwards towards your door.

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

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

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

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

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

"He does?"

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

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

Shigaraki felt himself get flustered at your sudden excitement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

"If the shoe fits," Dabi includes.

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

"Not like yourself, right?" Dabi includes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi."

"Hi," you giggled.

"Having a good time?"

"So far I've been bored."

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

"A bit ago."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yea."

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

"Okay, maybe I am cooler, actually."

"Fuck you," He laughs.

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

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

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

"Oh."

"What took you so long?"

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

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

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

"What's wrong?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh-huh. Ya got me."

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

"You do?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay. I trust you."

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

You blushed and hid your face in your other hand.

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

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

"What're your intentions?" You blushed.

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

"Both?"

"Good choice."

me too..me too...

I feel like Tomura Shigaraki was the reason and cause that I have a hand fetish/kink. I want him to choke me, stick his fingers in my mouth and tell me to "suck" them. I want him to throw me around like I'm a ragdoll - I'm down bad for this man 😭😵‍💫😳🥵💗💗

i'll have to do a drawing of that with mha x cult of the land !✨🤌

Thanks ! ^^

We have to keep pushing

Let's go Tenko/Tomura nation‼️‼️

8th place is insanely well for the first week

Homie I don't know if you've considered writing a part 2 for the incel Gyutaro modern! Au scenario cause it legit rewired something in my brain ajskaj 🤒💕- he's like a weird bug that's fun to poke and watch em S Q U I R M ah, I love it.

Like I can see later on y/n has an indirect impact on him even though it's a casual thing- like, telling him his cum taste bitter af and it convinces him to eat better if it means he'll keep getting head (toss in more regular showers in there now that I think about it) . Would also wonder how his sis would react to them hanging out-? 🤔

If it's not in your plans that's alright- either way, it gave me the strength to write for him and I am thankful for the food 🛐

Guess what this post is!!!! I was saving this ask so I could post part 2 with it or whateverrrr. I'm so giggle that so many people are interacting with that post, I didn't expect it to get such good reception!!

Also also, I do plan to write about how this Gyutaro definitely still raised his sister and is a bang up brother in spite of these mentalities he has! I have another ask that wants me to elaborate, and I'm planning on just making a big headcanon thing for him!!

PART ONE <-

CW// FEM READER// AFAB// BREASTED / Dub-con/Non-con (Gyutaro does something sexual under the guise he'll get laid, undiscussed BDSM dynamic)/ Panic Attack/ Vomit (not in a sex way) / Piss (kinda in a sex way)/ Sexism/ Incel mentalities/ Toxic Masculinity / Forced Bisexuality / BDSM dynamics / I say 'skullfuck' at one point / Gyutaro is reffered to as a toilet.

-Incel!Gyutaro's eyes had never even grazed a real dance floor, but there he was, at the big name club you'd dropped the location of 30 minutes ago. He'd hopped on his bike and sped there in what could only be called desperation.

-There wasn't a wait like in the movies. Not a big long line, and they let him in in his baggy jeans and stupid fucking Nietzsche shirt. He hadn't even realized he'd brought his bike helmet in until he was tossing it between his shaking, filthy hands.

-There were so many people. All of them taking their sweet time to gawk at his height and face. This was why he didn't leave the dorm. That and the abhorrent, terminally 2011 music.

-The photo had pissed him off. Bad. He'd come with the intention of a rematch (in your honor or whatever, he's not cringe enough to say that, though) and he planned to leave with you clinging to him like you were supposed to be.

-and obviously you were because there you were, hanging off Tengen Uzui's naturally bulging muscles with those 3 other mindless sluts. Not giving a fuck in the world about him or that skanky photo you sent.

-You were hard to spot in your slut disguise.

-You looked like every other girl there, and that pissed him off even worse, in a way. He had deluded himself into thinking you were good. Into thinking you were different from other females because you knew the bands and the movies, and you agreed when he implied that genetically you were just dumber-

-'Gyutaro!' You'd screech out as you locked eyes with the man. In the dark of the club, with the neon purple strobing over him, he looked almost daunting. With his helmet on one hip, and phone dangling from his other hand, Gyutaro had something similar to a western charm.

-You'd pop off of Tengen, who would only lift his head up to register the man, and then turn back to his girlfriends.

-The whole reason for their fight had been rather trivial, Gyutaro assumed, but, despite his lax appearance, Tengen did everything in his power not to smash the man's own helmet back over his head.

-He feared, along with Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, for your safety as you barreled into the man.

-You'd run into them with a new found confidence that night. After leaving Gyutaro in his sorry state, bounding up to the three women was far less intimidating. Almost like you shared a comraderie with them-

-and you had! The three were incredibly nice and immediately ushered you to Tengen where you all began to get a long in a picturesque fashion.

-You looked good. Hanging onto his arm with the other women felt good- You just had to take a photo.

-Gyutaro was going to panic. Tengen Uzui didn't scare him anymore, but that immediate jump from Tengen's arms to his, he didn't know how to satisfy that expectation.

-Of course he was better than Tengen- but on a "purely physical" level, he knew he would never have the stamina or prowess to conquer the bodies of three women at once.

-Especially not when he couldn't even fathom conquering you.

-'Ah, is this who you were talking about?' Tengen asked. You laughed in response, nodding with verve. Your body was beginning to shift against him- fuck-

-'Mhm, Gyutaro's my best friend.' You slurred, and it occurred to Gyutaro then, that you might be slighty inebriated. God, Tengen had an awful effect on you.

-His heart thudded at the words 'best friend' Despite your light and teasing cadence, were you friendzoning him? Would you just fuck any friend you had? Not that you fucked him- but you totally fucked him-

-'Oh?' Tengen sang in that stupid fucking tone that made Gyutaro want to rip off that girly fucking headband he wore. 'Have you slept with him?'

-Makio slapped Tengen's shoulder.

-'No, no- Not yet.' Gyutaro was panicking, now. Yet? Yet? You were planning to fuck hi-

-'Be careful.' Tengen sang. And that should've been the end of his thought, but maybe the drink he had was doing more than he expected, because Tengen couldn't fight the grin nor the words that spilled from his mouth after-

-'Tell him to try and last longer this time.'

-Gyutaro saw red, and blue, and maybe it was because of the weed air or the sex musk permeating past the bar- Maybe it was the anger he had at you for sharing such a thing about him- maybe it was because He'd been holding his breathe and plotting Tengen's downfall, and now he was-

-Who was he kidding, Gyutaro was going to fucking barf. The stress was too much, and his stomach rolled in response. He'd never been exposed to such an environment, or such an embarassment, and all he knew to do was turn away and try to keep it down until he got to the bathroom.

-'That was so mean!' Suma cried out as Gyutaro trudged away, attempt at disguising his mood futile. 'You made him cry!'

-'He literally called you a slut to your face at the start of the semester. What the fuck do you mean, mean?' Makio barked.

-You were in one of the gross stalls, pulling his scraggly black hair away from the rancid bowl. You weren't sure how he ate so much and still stayed so twig thin. He'd been puking for at least ten minutes.

-'I didn't expect you to come here.' You lied, having very much intended for that outcome. 'You think Tengen Uzui remembers every drunken, horny story he gets from a woman?'

-He was mortified. The idea that Tengen specifically knew something so intimate about him made him hear colors. Red colors. He was hearing the club lighting and seething at the red blur of the motion sensor on the toilet-

-The tile felt like splinters.

-'W-Why did you tell him that?' Gyutaro gasped out between spills. The question lacked his usual grit. It sounded genuine and hurt.

-He nodded lamely and went to drop his face onto the porcelain, but your hand swooped down.

-Your palm against his marred face was soothing. Lifting his head up from the toilet bowl, you wiped his mouth off with toilet paper.

-His heart fluttered. What a girlish emotion he was feeling.

-'I'm sorry.' You whispered and only semi meant it. Some of the things he said about women in the past months could've definitely validated such treatment. Some of the comments were bordering on illegal, others on beyond morally questionable.

-'It's okay.' He slurred, moving away from your hand to try and stop that flutter. You were quick to find his scar again, and, with hesitance losing to need, he rubbed against your palm.

-Cat. The word shot through your head and then retreated. No, no. A mangy cat. A cat with mange. Rabies, maybe even.

-'I wasn't crying or any-' as he began to speak, you pulled a small bottle of mouth wash out from your bag.

-'Tip your head back.' Gyutaro cut off his sentence and did as you said. The burn of the wash was painful. As he went to spit it out, you pressed a finger to his lips.

-'You get a gift if you can keep it in for the full minute.'

-It hurt. Gyutaro can't remember the last time he brushed his teeth, but the burn in his gums said he should do it more. He managed, though, and you followed through by pulling a tooth brush from your bag.

-Gyutaro had seen this plot before, in a hentai, probably, but he'd always imagined himself probing some innocent sweet trad girl's mouth with a tooth brush. Not being probed.

-You scrubbed plague off his teeth with precise intensity. His gums bled, and he whined. His jaw would occasionally stutter, and he'd bite down with enough force that you feared for your toothbrush.

-Another pass at the mouth wash and Gyutaro stared up at you, puffy lipped and teary eyed. You hadn't necessarily been gentle, nor had you avoided his gag reflex, but you leaned down to Gyutaro.

-His natural huffiness now had a pleasant bubblegum scent.

-When you pulled the vibrator from your pussy, Gyutaro nearly puked again. He hadn't noticed it in your sneaky photo, so seeing you hike your leg up on the toilet seat and pluck it from your insides made him see stars.

-Had you had that in the entire time? Had you told the other girls? Had you told Tengen?

-You dropped the vibrator into his lap. Not in his pants, not intentionally near his dick- on his lap. Gyutaro had taken on an all too natural kneeling position, and you dropped the vibe between the small gap of his thighs.

-Dull buzzing bounced up his thighs, vibratons too far to feel- And then you were pressing your cunt against his face, and he was taking in the scent of your pubes-

-He had been told that eating a woman out was a sign of submission. Got told it'd be gross, and to only do it when the situation was dire. And a situation with a female should never become dire- Having someone's genitals forced in his face like this-

-Gyutaro loved the smell of your pussy. The taste. His hands took to your thighs immediately, one slipping back to find the meat of your ass and bury his fingers in it.

-It would surprise you, how right he looked snug between your thighs. How his eyes fluttered back when he forgot he wasn't really supposed to be into this kind of thing.

-You could remember all of the things he said about vaginas. It often left you contemplating whether or not he found women attractive to begin with, but with his tongue rolling so naturally against your clit, you couldn't question it.

-He was made for this, both of you figured. Your warmth against his palate was ball tightening. He immediately took to it. You'd never seen such enthusiasm and love shown to your cunt.

-'Fuckkkkkk-' He'd moan, but with his tongue flat against you it came out in drool. His spit spilled onto his jean clad thighs, uncaring about anything other than eating you out.

-With his back against the toilet, and your hands gripping his hair, if you saw it from the back, it'd look like you were skullfucking the man. The thought made Gyutaro's already raging hard on twitch-

-And that's exactly how Tengen saw it when he opened the stall.

-'Oh?' He said, and you felt Gyutaro's grip tighten around your thighs. Today was just humiliation after humiliation, wasn't it? He knew by the stupid sing-song tone of the voice exactly who'd invaded his time with you.

-Black pulsed the corners of his vision.

-'Ah, Tengen-' You tried to keep your voice steady- not willing to let yourself be intimidated by a man his size in such a situation. Not infront of Gyutaro. He didn't need real life experience to back up forum rumors.

-'Can I use this toilet?' He nodded down to Gyutaro, and you looked down to the man between your thighs, a bit shocked by the ask.

- Gyutaro would pull off your cunt fast, wide eyed and all teeth.

-'What the fuck did you just s-' You lodged your fingers down his throat, Gyutaro gagging hurtfully against them. His eyes rolled back. He didn't know why having his mouth fucked with felt so good. It'd never felt this good when he was alone-

-'When I cum, yeah.' And Gyutaro was back on your pussy, a sudden fear lighting his movements. You wouldn't really let Tengen do that to him, right?

-Why was he depending on you, a woman, to prevent that? He should just get up and kick his ass- Tengen would have an advan...advantage.... an-

-Fuck your pussy was mind numbing. Fuck whatever Tengen wanted to do to him. He needed that juice.

-Gyutaro chased your orgasm. You were only slightly dissapointed he didn't cum with you- didn't show Tengen how good he could be. A part of you wanted to impress Tengen- to show off a little bit. Show what you tamed. Even if that taming was still very early in the works-

-When you came, Gyutaro smiled wide against your pussy. You pulled back with shaking legs and his head in your hands and he looked at you like Tengen wasn't pulling his cock from his boxers just centimeters away.

-'Just want your pussy, I need your pussy-' He slurred while you starred down at him.

-'If you drink it, I'll let you fuck me-' His ears would begin ringing. Shocked by his own actions, Gyutaro found his jaw unhinged, taking Tengen's flaccid cock down his throat.

-Maybe it was easier for him to accept because Gyutaro never dealt with penis envy. The two men were surprisingly matched. How unfortunate. You really wanted to see how Gyutaro would react to a cock that much bigger-

-Tengen took advantage of the willing hole, rocking his hips a bit much to Gyutaro's anger.

-'If you bite me, I'll drown you. Don't want to die with your head in a toilet, eh, Shabana?' Tengen taunted, sensing the upset from his thighs.

-You watched as Gyutaro's adam apple surged, and Tengen's head dropped back in relief. It was more than Gyutaro could take, obviously, because it began spilling from the corners of his mouth and onto his Neitzsche shirt.

-Gyutaro's face burnt red, and he reeked like piss. Tengen gave the other man's face a light, almost appreciative slap.

-As Tengen pulled out, a rush of piss came spilling onto the floor. He wasn't done though, a guiding hand locking around Gyutaro's jaw to tip his head up. The trickle was backed by the music blurring outside.

-His flow came to a stop, and he carefully shut Gyutaro's mouth. Gyutaro looked over at you with tired eyes.

-You nodded, and he swallowed.

-'Atta boy.'

-With Tengen's exit, you looked down at Gyutaro, dripping and still woefully hard. You pulled his messy hair back into a ponytail once more.

-'oh honey... when did I say you'd be fucking me tonight?'

-'Do I- Do I get to fuck you now?' He'd croak, trying to ignore the completely beer ridden piss on his lips. You looked at him so pathetically. It made his cock ache even worse than it already did.

-He could tell he wasn't going to get what he wanted before you even opened your mouth.