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

"𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒!" . 𝟏𝟓

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╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : ❞
None
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"Oh, gross-!" Tomura swatted at the handheld coffee-jello you leisurely jiggle in his peripheral vision. "You actually eat that?"

"No, I snort it, dipshit." You sarcastically remarked, setting the product back atop it's designated shelf as you roll your eyes, unimpressed. "'s that all you're getting?"

Tomura had, surprisingly, a vast taste in cheap snacks and overly unhealthy habits. A plastic-wrapped package sat in the bottom of a 'Mech-vience' branded logo basket, Taiyaki with Macha-paste filling that expressed that of a chibi frog on it's translucent packaging.

With his pinky finger outstretched & perched at an unruly angle, Tomura had been lugging around a caffeinated beverage of canned coffee. It'd been unopened, set aside to enjoy with the treat of his choosing.

He gave you a scrutinized glare, judgement intertwined with his vermillion irises. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Christ, Mura. Defensive much, today?" You huffed, shuffling through plastic containers of flavored mochi, the cold and dense air of the freezer kissing your round cheeks as, naturally, you squinted at the foreign frostbite. "I just expected you to aim for ohagi, that's all."

"Well, don't make assumptions." Tomura replied, albeit unkindly. "You make an ass out of both you and I."

A feigned, phony grin much too large for your facial structure presented itself to the pale-haired bluenette, gritted teeth accentuated the canines of your snarl. "Ha. Ha." Mocked you, lacking mirth as you reverted back to the task at hand. "Seriously, what crawled up your ass and died?"

"Why'd you assume that?" "..about your ass-?"

Tomura grumbled, irritated. "No!" He frowned, even as aggravated as he was, he still patiently waited to checkout with his so called 'companion'. "Why assume I'd want ohagi?"

"..I dunno," you shrugged, having settled for a package of strawberry flavored mochi, four (4) small, well-rounded balls of sugar safety secured in their plastic confinement. "You looked like a fan of 'em, back at the diner. Just figured."

Even with a logical answer, Tomura remained unsatisfied. He'd had taken the plastic container from your grasp abruptly, placing it within his own basket as he wordlessly walked away.

By now, you'd figured Tomura was a conflicted individual. He often seemed lost in thought and, unsurprisingly, had far too much in his young cranium. More often than not, had you refrained from probing at this issue. Even in this limbo of 'debt', you enjoyed the consistency of Tomura's monthly visit.

Even so, when Tomura began to self-mutilate himself as a means of coping, you worried. The evident limp in his strides & poorly concealed bruises made you anxious. His behavioral swings concerned you, especially when they ranged from manic to neutral.

Yet, you remained loyal to this so called 'arrangement'. Sat by and observed how when Tomura relinquished his due amount for his packaged goods, he'd had payed for your own as well, without question.

The door's entry bell rang, signaling the two (2) had exited the convenience store, 'Mech-vience'. Reluctantly, You had led Tomura towards a nearby park, leaving him pleasantly suprised to see that it'd been somewhat desolate due to weather conditions.