Chapter Text
Life was anything but easy for her. In fact, if you ask her, she’d tell you it was a bitch before blushing profusely at the curse word.
Her reality of being locked in a basement with a notorious villain was quickly becoming the second most frightening situation she’d ever been in. All the ‘what if’s and ‘if only’s spun through her head as she glided her hand across the wall in search of a light switch.
What if she’d never went to that bar.
If only she’d never met the dangerous-looking man with the piercing blue eyes and severe scars.
What if she turned down his offer to dance.
If only he didn’t feel so good pressed against her body.
What if she didn’t follow him home.
If only her parents had raised her right.
Heart jumping when her hands fumbled across a familiar bump in the wall, she took a deep breath before turning the light on. The illumination was blinding, and she had to shield her eyes until all the dark spots fled from her vision.
“Turn it off,” the irritated voice from the other room calls out.
Surprisingly enough, her villain co-inhabitant had kept his distance and pretty much left her alone ever since she was thrown into the space. He frightened her at first. Just staring at the tv with a game controller in his hands. He was shooting something that was making awful sound effects in the otherwise quiet room. It was making her skin crawl with the need to turn on a light.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m just trying to find a way out of here.” She tries to appease him.
An audible scoff stops her in her tracks. She certainly doesn’t want to annoy him past the point of tolerance. “Just use the door,” he responds as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.
As if she hadn’t done just that, she goes to the heavy metal barrier and yanks at the handle. His words didn’t magically unlock it.
“It’s locked,” she says just above a whisper more to herself than the villain.
“What?” His voice is now kicking up in irritation, and she actively scrambles when she hears the game pause and the wheels of the chair screech across the floor.
With nowhere to go, she scurries like a rat to the corner so as not to get in his way.
The light is still on and gives her the first sight of the villain. His hair is white. His body lanky and sinewy. Red eyes are framed by wrinkled skin and cracked lips sit on top of dry yet rather pretty skin. He wears all black and looks nearly normal save for his bright eyes that are hooded with what could either be annoyance or exhaustion.
When he crosses the room and reaches the door, he places a hand on the knob to try exactly what she did. She watches intently for the door to automatically spring open at his touch. When it doesn’t budge, they both are taken aback. Although, he quickly becomes infuriated while she becomes terrified.
“What. The. Fuck!” The realization that Tomura is locked in his own basement with a squirrelly, strange looking girl in the corner has him livid. “Those bastards,” he seethes before approaching the surrounding furniture. He gets his hands on the first chair in his path and flings it at the door. Soon, furniture is flying everywhere around the basement.
The crouched woman remains in the corner but has to dodge the lamp that errantly flies toward her head. She’s actually proud of her dexterity, but quickly goes back into fight or flight before she has time to ponder it. Right now, she’s fleeing. Scurrying around the room while the monster of a man flings his possessions as if they mean nothing.
“Those cowards. Those fucking meddlers!” Tomura yells into the oblivion of his basement that doubles as his living area in the PLF safe house.
Thinking it a safe option, the terrified guest hides behind a previously flung table that is now tipped on its side. Oh, how things can be so cruel, though. She doesn’t have any time to dodge before the rampaging man snatches the table again and shoves it against the wall — not knowing someone was in its path.
“Ah!” She shouts out in surprise and pain as the table pushes into her exposed foot.
“What the –“ Tomura stops mid lunge toward his couch when he hears the yell. He goes toward the table with a slow, steady gait. When he moves the table, he’s mildly startled to see a woman writhing in pain with a smashed foot. He’d almost forgotten someone else was in here with him and that’s what started this entire mess.
“Why didn’t you just dodge it?” He eyes her skeptically as she holds her foot in shaking hands.
Something about the situation gives her courage. She looks up at him with a snarly glare. It was meant to insult him.
He just stares at her and huffs in response. “Get up,” he reaches out a hand to her.
Shifting her eyes to his hand and back to his expression of irritation has her quickly accepting his offer before he goes berserk again. Her footing is unstable when she stands and has to reluctantly put quite a bit of weight into his support.
He helps her hobble over to the makeshift kitchen in the dining/living area of the basement. It’s just a chair next to a counter that has running water with a mini fridge underneath. She also notes the hot pad sitting alone on the ground with its cord wrapped around it like a tired snake. With a surprising lack of effort from the looks of his lean body, he lifts her to sit on the counter.
“You idiot,” he pulls off her shoe, “what are you even doing here?” He doesn’t look at her, rather he just inspects her already purpling toes.
“Your comrades threw me in here and locked the door,” she responds through her teeth as he wiggles the damaged digits.
“They’re not broken. You’re fine. Stop your whining. It’s so annoying” His response is definite. But he now looks at her face. He’s impressed by the lack of tears.
“What’s going on?” She asks while shifting the foot to her lap for her own inspection.
“Beats the hell out of me. Although, I bet I can guess,” his eyes track up and down her body while she inspects her foot. “I assume that they put you in here to be my plaything. Ah man, and right when I was getting to the final boss. How annoying.”
Her shock at his words makes her stutter and choke on her own response. “W-what do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean? Isn’t that what whores do?” He deadpans at her. Could she be more oblivious? They could’ve at least gotten him someone smarter.
“I’m not a whore,” she replies indignantly with an edge of surprise in her voice. “Who are you?”
He’s no longer giving her his full attention. Instead, he’s checking out all the new supplies in his kitchen that he, himself, did not stock. “Shigaraki, Tomura. Leader of the PLF. You should know that without me having to tell you. Do you live under a rock? Those sneaky fucks — “ he cuts off his own line as he handles all of the prepackaged foods. “They even put enough food in here to last a while.”
She’s looking at him from the counter with wide eyes. His movements seem erratic, and they only serve to frighten her further. He darts from the kitchen to the metal door as she watches. He’s now scratching at his neck to the point of drawing blood.
“Listen, you sneaky fucks! You will NOT keep me in here! I will kill every last one of you!” He’s banging and yelling at the door while she riffles through her mind to remember what she knows about Tomura Shigaraki.
“Wait!” She calls out. “Can’t you just decay the door?” She wonders aloud as she remembers the news reports associated with one ‘Tomura Shigaraki.’
He slams his hands on the door in response. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
His scathing question catches her off guard and makes her stare at him from her countertop.
“Answer me!” He shouts at her without looking away from the door.
“N-no! Of course not! I just thought that your quirk could get through the door. But is it not that strong?” She squeaks out the last part with immediate regret.
Rather than dignify her question with a response, he just turns and saunters over to her with dead eyes. When he reaches her, she recoils when he grabs her scarf with his fingers. She feels a tremor of fear wrack through her as her scarf disintegrates before her own eyes.
At her apparent uneasiness, he finally responds, “I had the door and walls specially made to be quirk resistant to guard against break-ins. I never anticipated needing to break out of my own damn room.” He slams his fist on the counter next to her leg. It makes her jump slightly.
All goes silent for a moment and uneasiness settles in her stomach as he doesn’t remove his hand from next to her leg. “What are you going to do to me?” She finds the courage to ask him before she loses her voice.
He looks at her gnawing on her bottom lip before shifting his red eyes to her large round ones. “Nothing yet,” he scoffs before pushing himself away and returning to his couch that’s in front of his tv.
She sucks in a full breath of air for the first time in the last ten minutes. Sound effects from his video games once again fill the empty space of the basement.
“You any good at video games?” He calls over his shoulder. “We’re going to be here for a while. Apparently, I’m on vacation.”
……………
“Things are going perfectly!” Toga swoons as her and Twice watch the monitors projecting the hidden cameras from Shigaraki’s basement.
“He’s destroyed the room ~ things are just picturesque!” Twice responds with his two-tones.
“Shiggy has been wallowing away in self-pity for so long that he just needed a little intervention!” Toga snickers. “She’s already doing so well. This is the first time he’s looked away from his video game in a whole day.”
The door to the surveillance room swings open with a thud startling both Toga and Twice.
“What are you idiots doing in here? Playing peeping Tom?” Dabi drawls out with a hint of curiosity in his inquisition. He taps on Twice and leans over Toga to look at whatever they’re staring at on the monitors. His eyes narrow to slits when he sees her on the monitors sitting next to Crusty on his mildewy couch.
“What the fuck is she doing in there!?” Dabi booms so loudly that Twice covers his ears.
“You brought her here for Shiggy, duh!” Toga teases while tracing the outline of Dabi’s stitches on his forearm.
“The fuck I did! I brought her here for ME! She’s mine! Get her out of there now.” He’s fuming while smoke is starting to curl off of his body.
“No can do ~ right away!” Twice intonates.
“We can’t get her out, dummy,” Toga smacks Twice on the arm, “they’re locked in by a timer set for two weeks. We did it so we wouldn’t be tempted to let them out especially when Tomura starts hurling really mean threats.”
Dabi seethes silently while watching her awkwardly handle the video game controller and giggle nervously. “Fuck!” His inflamed fist goes right through one of the dozens of monitors around the room.
“Hey! Get out of here if you can’t hold your temper, you big lug!” Toga is standing up to Dabi now and threatening him with her knife. Thinking about it, Dabi decides to leave the room before he causes a fight between members. Although, he’s sure to tear the door off its hinges as he passes through.
“Geez, what’s so special about her ~ she’s gorgeous!” Twice babbles.
Toga just giggles in response.
……..
“How long do you think they’re going to keep us in here?” Shigarki’s newfound house guest questions while pulling her hair into a braid.
It’s been several days now. He’s surprised at how well she stays out of his way. They make food at alternating times, use the bathroom when the other is not in need, and they even separated sleeping arrangements wordlessly. It’s like they signed some sort of roommate contract before being thrust into this ungodly situation.
Tomura is even quietly pleased that she seems to be less disgusted by him every passing moment. First, their interactions were full of shifting eyes and jolting, jumping reactions. But now, she seems to not mind when they accidentally brush by one another. He tested it recently when she handed him a bowl of instant ramen. His fingers purposefully grazed hers, and she looked completely unfazed. It was mind-numbingly odd.
“Who knows,” he finally responds while stealthily watching her bend and shift to braid her hair.
“I hope we have enough food,” she ties her hair with that nervous look she still sometimes gets.
“I’ll decay the ceiling before we starve to death,” Tomura shrugs as if it’s obvious.
“Wait, that’s an option?” She stills and looks at his body lounging across the couch as if he were an old dog on a sunny afternoon.
“A risky one. The entire safe house could cave in on us before I had the chance to get us out.”
“I appreciate how you say ‘us’ when you talk about breaking out,” she playfully nudges his knee from her spot on the ground. She doesn’t see how his eyes shoot open in surprise at the contact. When he glances at her, all he can see is her playful smile. He doesn’t like what it does to him.
“Whatever,” he waves her off before reaching for the controller. He turns on the console to play something to get the memory of her hand on his knee out of his head. He almost throws the controller when the game requires an update. The tv blasts some innocuous sounding music from his Pandora radio station while the game updates. He immediately reaches for the controller to mute it.
“Wait! Leave it on!” She snatches the remote just before he can. “I love this song!” He watches as she jumps up (protecting her still sprained toes) and starts bouncing around in his living room to the pop vitriol she’s calling a ‘song.’ He audibly groans.
She ignores him and chooses to forget her dismal position in life at this very moment. The rapid beats carry her to move around in rhythm with the song. She feels lighter in this moment than she has since the beginning of this fiasco. Shigaraki wasn’t exactly like living with the devil, but she’d been trying incredibly hard to stay off his nerves in the past few days. It was all fraying her nerves a bit too much.
So, she danced with reckless abandon in Shigaraki’s living room while he watched. She even pointed and sang at him in time with the lyrics every now and then. He didn’t look amused.
To Tomura, she looked incredibly strange. Just dancing around like no one was watching. He couldn’t find it in himself to look away. When she suddenly grabbed his hand and yanked him into standing position, he couldn’t believe himself. If it wasn’t for the intoxicating smell of cherry blossoms in the air, he’d still be brooding on the couch.
She laughs and spins as she holds on to both of Tomura’s hands. Her goofy movements actually make him bark out with laughter. At this moment, he’s incredibly glad that they’re alone and that no one could possibly be watching them.
Her hips sway and her chest bounces as she gyrates to the music. His eyes continue wandering in search of her next movement. He feels strange. Happy even.
When the song ends, she slows down to catch her breath, but she never releases his hands. As she huffs and puffs with a chest full of gratitude, he just watches her from his still spot two feet away. Not even a full arm’s distance. He’d normally be pushing past her to get away. Why wasn’t he doing that now?
The slow drawl of an old crooner comes on the radio to fill the room next. When she hears it, she smiles.
“Dance with me?” She smiles softly and clutches his hands a bit tighter.
“Hmph,” he just grunts in response feeling completely out of control of his body. He easily lets her embrace him. Her hands go around his neck while her body presses into his front. He blanches at the full-on contact.
“It’s okay, you can put your hands on my hips,” she whispers while looking up at him with her large orbs. Why can’t he say no?
His hands just shift to her waist. She’s wearing just a pair of his shorts with a baggy T-shirt which makes sweat appear on his brow. The crooner in the background is just white noise to him. Yet, she continues to sway and hum as the song continues.
As he stands nearly still while she sways rhythmically back and forth, he holds his breath when her head comes down to rest on his chest. The truth is, he’s never been this close to a woman before. Fuck, he’s never been this close to anyone before, at least, not without trying to kill them. The experience is so foreign that it feels dangerous. The hackles on his neck raise in suspicion.
Suddenly, as the song ends, a thought comes to mind. “What’s your quirk?” Tomura rasps out.
She stops swaying and steps back from him, looking into his eyes. She’s never afraid to stare him right in the eye. It unnerves him.
“You’re going to be mad.” She warns with the utmost candor.
“Tell me now,” Shigaraki feels a growing sense of anger far in the back of his head. He grasps her wrists with brute strength, threatening her with his quirk. But he can’t exactly explain why. It feels like he’s acting on instinct.
She winces at the fierce hold on her wrists. “It’s called neuro,” she begins, “I control the flow of neurotransmitters with the different scents I give off.”
Shigaraki’s rage pushes through the cloud of serotonin that she had him under. When it surfaces, he pushes her roughly away from him. She falls to the couch, unable to truly catch herself with her injured foot.
“Mind control!? What the fuck are you trying to do to me, whore!?” Shigaraki’s voice is booming and demeaning all at once.
“It’s not mind control! I just wanted to have a little fun for a moment!” She squeals with her hands out in front of her protectively. She knows that her quirk is not useful in a one-on-one fight.
He gets right in her face in response. “Keep it up, bitch. Next time I smell anything out of the ordinary or feel even slightly funny, you will cease to exist.”
She should be intimidated, scared even. But something about all of this just really ticks her off.
With a wave of courage, she points her finger right in Shigaraki’s face and stands to meet him eye to eye. “You know what, Shigaraki, excuse me for making us feel good for a freaking moment! If you want to kill me, just kill me already! You’re the big, bad leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front! Go ahead and take me out! Do you really think I give a heck!?”
Shigaraki stares for a moment but then bursts with laughter. “Language…Be careful with your language…” he taunts, “What are you, a fucking child? Can’t say something like ‘fuck’ or ‘hell’?”
She bristles in response to the mocking. The courage inside of her becomes reckless when she winds up and pops Shigaraki right in the side of his cackling mouth.
He immediately freezes as he feels the blood trickling from his split lip.
All her sense suddenly rushes back to her. “Oh, dear God!” She frantically runs from him and into the kitchen. He just watches as she searches for a washcloth before soaking it and hustling back to him with the cloth in one hand and rubbing alcohol in the other. Her shaking hand steadily brings the cold, wet cloth to his pulsating lip.
When it gets there, he snatches the cloth out her hand and glares at her. “You have some fucking nerve.”
“I am SO sorry! Jesus, my temper gets the best of me sometimes! I swear I didn’t mean it!” She’s now blotting her bare fingers with the rubbing alcohol and attempting to touch his open lip. He smacks her hand away when she reaches up to his face. He’s now avidly scratching his neck.
“Don’t touch me,” he decides to just leave the room to go pop some aspirin for his rising headache. This whole situation has his head threatening to split in two, it’s just so annoying. When he leaves the room, he addresses her one last time without looking back.
“You’ll fit in nicely,” Shigaraki mumbles through a fat lip, a thoughtful look on his face.
“What was that?”
Tomura’s mixed feelings have him flustered beyond what he thought was possible. “Now we’re even.”
She looks down at her swollen toes with the touch of a smile on her lips.
……………………
The next week doesn’t go by quite as smoothly as the first few days did. Shigaraki is clearly crabby with her for her little dancing stunt and for splitting his lip. He’s hardly even muttered two words to her in the meantime.
All of that starts to change when she wakes up one day completely freezing.
Rubbing her hands together and bundled in as many clothes as she could find, she walks back to the living room. “Who turned on the AC?”
Shigaraki is grumbling and tightly controlling his shiver as he sits gaming on his couch. “Those manipulative fuckers, who else?”
Immediately knowing that he’s referring to the ones that locked them in together, she just nods and plops on the couch right next to him.
“Don’t try anything funny,” he warns without his eyes leaving the screen.
“Don’t worry, your virtue is safe with me,” she teases while elbowing him gently. He grips the controller tighter but continues with his game.
They sit in silence with the symphony of video game beeps and buzzes for about an hour before she huffs and stands up to retrieve the comforter from his bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He scathes as she tucks the puffy blanket around the two of them.
“Trying to keep us from getting hypothermia. I’ve been watching you fight your shiver for half an hour now.” He just huffs and rolls his eyes, but he makes no move to remove the blanket that now has them enclosed together.
They sit in relatively comfortable silence for the next several hours before those fuckers intervene once again. Suddenly, all the power turns off. Including the gaming station. Only a single dim light remains, probably generator powered.
Shigaraki stands up in pure shock. “I’m going to fucking murder them all when they get brave enough to let me out of here,” he begins ranting while testing different light switches and power cords.
“Dammit,” he groans when nothing works.
She smiles sadly and reopens the blanket for him to sit next to her. She takes the opportunity to sit a bit closer to him. Just for warmth, of course.
“Why do you think your comrades are doing this to you?” She queries.
“They aren’t my comrades. They’re my underlings.” Shigaraki grumbles.
“Why do you think your underlings are staging some form of mutiny?” She queries again.
Shigaraki huffs before answering. “It’s not mutiny. It’s their moronic attempt at getting me laid.”
“Oh,” she deflates a bit and averts her eyes.
“What made you so unlucky to be the one stuck here?” Shigaraki asks in turn.
“Ah, well, I was tricked…” her voice trails off as she remembers the striking blue eyes and the intoxicating smell of fire.
“Which one of them was dumb enough to pick you?” Shigaraki sneers.
“Dabi…” his name is like a ghost on her tongue. Pain in her chest and stomach cause her to curl up into herself.
“Dabi and I are gonna fucking go when I get out of here,” Shigaraki promised with a twinge of hate in his voice.
The day passes on.
As it does, they both make surface-level chit chat. She learns that his favorite color is blue (not black) and that his favorite food is dim sum (not instant ramen). He learns that she likes different colors depending on her mood and that her favorite food is strawberry cheesecake with a side of Oreos. Double Stuffed. And don’t forget the milk for dipping.
When they run out of things to talk about, she interjects. “You know, we could be having quite a bit of fun with my quirk right now. Wanna get high on serotonin and oxytocin? My favorite combination.”
“Won’t it just be me, though?” Shigaraki questions suspiciously from his end of the couch. Sometime during the day he’d let her feet rest in his lap.
“No, I get a hell of a kick back when I make someone feel…good.” She smiles demurely, but it’s difficult to see in the dark room.
“Fine, just do it,” he commands like a bored teenager.
She unwraps from the blanket to expose some skin.
“Why do I smell cherry blossoms?” He questions as the pheromones leave her neck.
“To each their own. Everyone smells what they want to smell.” The deviance in her voice has him on edge, but the light feeling in his head nearly has him smiling.
Suddenly, his hackles raise again like they did a week ago. He grabs her hand harshly to make sure he has her attention. “Try anything, and I’ll end you.”
She just pats his hand and leans in close to his face. “What could I even try, Tomura?”
Whether it’s the fantastic, warm feeling in his head that’s spreading through his body or the way she just said his name, he feels himself becoming aroused.
“Don’t play with me,” Tomura tries to demand but comes out more as a breathy plea.
“I feel exactly what you feel. I’m not going to make you feel bad, Tomura.”
There’s his name again. It sends electricity to his groin.
Soon, she’s shuffling beneath the blankets.
“What are you doing?” He asks rather curiously.
“Take off your clothes,” she firmly suggests.
“Fuck no.”
“It’s easier to stay warm without the clothes separating us,” she pleas and begins toying with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
As much as he tries, he just can’t say no to her. He really just can’t do it right now. So, he peals his sweatshirt off along with his sweats. They sit in silence for several more minutes.
“Don’t freak out. Okay, Tomura?” She practically purrs this which makes his chest ache.
He nearly jumps out of his skin when she rests her chilled palms on his thighs. He’s tempted to bolt until she crawls into his lap to straddle him. Their covered cores slot together perfectly, and Tomura can feel that she still has her bra on. He shifts uncomfortably knowing that she sure as hell can feel his erection.
“Don’t worry, it’s a side effect of what’s going on up here,” her fingers trace his temple before threading into his hair and running along his scalp. His entire body shudders at the contact.
With the blanket still wrapped around them, they both finally start to feel some semblance of warmth. He begins to get lost in the warmth that is her.
She interrupts his warm thoughts.
“Do you want to kiss me, Tomura?” She questions with the softest voice which makes him stutter for a moment. So, she continues.
“You see, I want to kiss you, but I don’t want you to kiss me back if it’s only because you’re practically on a drug. I need to know that you really want to kiss me regardless.”
He has no words. He used to be rather articulate, but they’ve all left him. They fled much sooner than he did from this fantasy. So rather than say anything, he just places his hand at the back of her neck and guides her to his untouched lips.
She expected them to feel rough, maybe even chapped. Dabi’s felt soft and rough at the same time. Tomura’s, on the other hand, were much smoother than she had assumed. His taste was also much more subdued than the fiery intoxication that was Dabi. Tomura was downright pleasant. She certainly enjoyed kissing him.
Their lips continued dancing back and forth. Her experience leads his inexperience and began trying new things. Her tongue would trace his bottom lip before his would mimic and do the same thing to her lip. He began exploring on his own after several minutes and became proficient rather quickly. All he had to do was pay attention to the hitch in her breath and the motion of her hands to find what she liked. Soon, he was working her into a frenzy where teeth sometimes gnashed and bodies grinded against each other.
The first time her pelvis pushed into his, he nearly lost it. She legitimately felt so unbelievably good that he could not recall ever feeling so at peace with everything. But he’d quickly decided after they’d first kissed that he needed to fuck her. It was no longer up for contemplation.
She soon had him leaning back into the couch with her pulsating on his lap. Her mouth broke from his to meander down his throat. It almost felt better than her kissing his lips. When she got to his collar bone, she sucked tiny marks into his skin. His heightened sense of touch was practically on fire at her treatment. They no longer needed the blanket, so he cast it aside to better feel her curves beneath his hands.
“Holy fucking shit,” Tomura breathes when she snakes her hand down to the waistband of his boxers.
When her fingers grasp his girth, she gasps. “Jesus, Tomura.”
“What?” He says almost angrily. She better not be mocking him.
“You’re huge,” she purrs in his ear while beginning to rub up and down on his rigid length.
He tosses his head back against the couch in an effort to keep his composure.
“Do you want me, Tomura? It’s okay if you don’t.” Her tone is thoughtful and caring, not wanting to push him into something he doesn’t want.
Rather than respond to her verbally, he lifts her hips to free himself from his boxers. When he guides her back down, he pushes her panties aside. The tip of his cock slides in easily, but she stops herself from sliding down completely.
He’s already in ecstasy. He can’t imagine how it gets even better.
But his view of reality is challenged as she lowers down onto him slowly consuming him to completion.
They simultaneously gasp and sputter. Him at the feeling of warm snugness and her at the feeling of nearly uncomfortable fullness. Tomura’s length and girth has her breathing heavily in his ear.
“So good,” his broken voice breathes in her ear. She nods in silent agreement.
While they sit embracing each other, Tomura decides to run his hands up her sides and to her breasts. To his complete shock, he’s able to remove her bra without a hitch. When he does, he’s met with perfect breasts that feel exquisite in his hands. Her pert nipples send electricity through her in the cold as he rubs over them gently before turning into firm pinches.
The treatment makes her writhe and buck in his lap. Feeling his length slide in, out, and within her has her losing her mind almost completely. He soon must stop fondling her breasts in an effort to concentrate. The feeling of her pussy sliding up and down his cock is better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.
It’s too good, in fact. He feels his end nearing.
“How can I make you cum?” Tomura asks rather frantically as he fights himself.
“Just don’t stop…. I’m close too…” she confirms breathlessly as she rides up and down his length.
“Fuck…. Fuck…..Fuck….Fuck,” it’s all too much. Tomura cannot stop himself from spurting rope after rope of cum deep into her.
The feeling launches her over the edge causing her cunt to pulse and contract as it pulls him further over his edge. Loud moans and chants fill the dark, cold basement space as they meet their end together.
Immediately, Tomura knows that it does not ever get better than this