passionate poison | tomura shigaraki x fem!reader ;; ❞

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 . 𝟏𝟎

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╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : ❞
Minor description of panic attack ,
Self-deprecating thoughts .
❀° ┄──────╮

At this point, no amount of off-brand, cheap gallons of salted Carmel sugar could cleanse your favorable humiliation.

The bench upholding your weight gasped in retaliation, much too far beyond a safety hazard from previous years of usage. Condensation stained the pant legs of your thighs, drenching the fabric in cold, bitter resentment.

An occasional sniffle escaped your nostrils, a ever deepening frown tugged at your quivering, pouted lips.

Autumn had long since past, leaves of red & yellow soon relinquishing to their original nesting arrival, the dirt. Gusts of harsh wind nipped at the apple's of one's cheekbones.

With a plastic spoon firmly wedged in your grasp, you prevailed, regardless of your stomach's protest. The scarf you had been seeking refuge in hugged your neck in a warm embrace; shielding one's self from the weather as seasonal boots sway to and fro, contemplating on if to run or stay rooted.

Brows knitted, the rounds of your cheeks protruded with a puff of flesh, revamping the muscles to accommodate more sugar-infested ice cream with each bite.

"..bastard." You belittled, a bottled up reaction of what you wished you could've spat at his retreating figure. "Who the hell does he think he is-?!"

Your own personal hell, that's who.

Eyes lidded and dull of resolve, you truly didn't see a way out of this. Even if you had refused, looking back now, would it of mattered?

His appearances were sporadic and yet, each and every encounter, he'd had either one-up you or left an everlasting stunt of behavioral issue behind.

Hell, you haven't even heard his name yet, no doubt would it shelter you from managing an escape of wits.

Whoever the bastard was, he'd uprooted your life of solitude. From your job, to your materialistic belongings and now, he'd managed to slither himself into your downtime to cause havoc. Tears swelled in the ducts of your lids, ensuring your vision grow weary of blurred frustration.

You weren't upset, moreso angry that you'd remained so helpless or recklessly in his malicious presence. Droplets of aggravation, of self-deprecating thoughts that all of which, circled the age old question.

Why me?

Dammit, an involuntarily shiver racked it's deafening visit atop your hunched spine, if he'd had known where to find me..

Oh god, did he know where you lived?!

Mid-gulp of a mouthful of sugary substance, your eyes widened with livid fear. Had he been there, how'd he find my address?! Was Peanut alright-?!

Calm down, don't panic. Jumping to an irrational conclusion hadn't gotten you much farther than prior, deep breaths..

He couldn't of been. As odd as it sounded, a neighbor of yours would've caught sight of this pale-haired menace, notifying you or even authorities of suspicious behavior.