Rough Hands - A T.ShigarakixReader Story

(Tomura) Chaos.

"I don't know!" The underling under Tomura's body yells panickedly. "He left a little while ago! He's not here. Oh god, please get off me."
"Is he coming back?" Tomura asks, barely even acknowledging the begging the man was spilling out for his life.
Maybe if he'd been in a better mood he'd have thought about it for a split second. But unfortunately for the panicking guy, Tomura was running off sheer anger and spite.
"I don't know! He doesn't stay here. Please, let us go! We're not important!"
Tomura grumbles to himself, the itch coming back again, slowly seeping underneath his skin.

He roughly yanks the underlings hair with his free hand, exposing his eyes fully to the absolute carnage in the room.
The blood pooling on the floor from Toga's victims, the occasional marbles that were dropping straight into the puddles, the scorch marks up the walls from Dabi's flames, the sight of Magne pulverising one the last members heads with a large chunk of metal, Twice appeared to be cheering Toga on, and Spinner was looting the room.
"You know why this is happening?" Tomura asks, impressed that they all managed to wipe out nearly 20 people within mere minutes.
"This is happening because my people are important." 

The wiggling and begging stops as though he had finally come to terms with what was going to happen, his head loosening in Tomuras grasp.
"How many of you are there?" Tomura asks, letting go of the mans head suddenly, allowing it to drop with a thud to the floor.
Theres a hiss of pain as his nose cracks into the floorboards, his hand going to clutch at it instinctively.
Tomuras knee presses harder into his back as a reminder that he needed to reply, and he could feel the bones actually crunching under the pressure he was applying.

"30 now." He replies weakly, defeated.
That was it? How disappointing.
"Explain Kenji's quirk to me." Tomura drawls, bored now there was no challenge. He doesn't even pay the previously whimpering and begging man any mind as he asks the question, his eyes rolling around the room. The other members had begun to laze around, although all of them had their eyes on the last remaining member underneath Tomura, even if it was just a lazy half glance occasionally. Even Dabi had  lit a cigarette as he lazed over the previously occupied sofa, the charred bodies still smouldering on the floor.

The only one that seemed to be doing something was Mr.Compress who appeared to be picking up the marbleised men  from the puddles of blood on the floor.
Theres nothing but silence from the man underneath him, which does nothing but infuriate Tomura more.
He knew that silence. It was trained silence. He'd done it, Y/N had done it, and probably others in his party had too.
"This is so... unsatisfying." Tomura hisses as he lowers the last finger he'd been holding up onto the mans wrist, hearing the cracking of his skin before looking down at nothing, his knee falling harshly into the pile of ash and scraps of body parts on the floor.

"We hanging around for Kenji?" Dabi asks, flicking ash onto the messy floor.
Tomura stands, looking around the room.
He still felt itchy. This had done nothing for him. All the others had indulged in the bloodshed that he'd needed to be a part of.
"Nah."
Tomura looks at the bloodied walls, floor, the scorch marks, the bodies lying motionless on the floor.
"This is enough for now." He adds, turning his back to the view.

"Here." Compress says from behind him, keeping a small distance. "Get rid of these."
He holds several small marbles out in his gloved palm.
Tomura wants to throw them on the floor. To have a proper, challenging fight. But instead he just plucks them out of Compress' hands one by one, squinting at the image inside of the marbles to gauge which was the smallest member.
With four fingers, he slides a handful of them out of Compress' hand, tightening his hand and then shaking the dusty remains off before turning away again.
"There's one left, Shigaraki." Compress calls.

"I know. Keep it safe." Tomura spits, not appreciating the feeling of being treated as though he was stupid.
"Tomura Shigaraki." Kurogiri welcomes with a slight bow as they approach him outside the shack again.
"Send us back." Tomura orders.
He wasn't feeling sick anymore, but the hatred was still sitting, prickling in his blood.
Maybe when he got home, Y/N would have healed herself. Maybe he could get the hatred out that way.
His hand moves thoughtfully to his neck, scratching lightly.
Even the thought of it was making his stomach flutter again. His eyebrows furrow. He just wanted a release.

It had to be her Quirk.

-

Tomura stands in the doorway of the bedroom, looking at Y/N's sleeping form.
She hadn't put much thought into how he was meant to get into bed, her limbs splayed out at every angle. He was sleepy, he didn't want to have to sleep on the floor again.
He slides in as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake her yet.
He gently takes all of the hands off his jacket, lining them up by the wardrobe doors before he slides it off completely, quickly removing his other clothes too and slipping some sweats on.

He eyes Y/N a little distrustfully. Even looking at her as she slept was making his body do things he didn't appreciate nor understand. Frustration builds inside him, he'd never felt these things around her before so why did he now?
"Y/N." He says firmly, crouching to be face to face with her.
He almost feels a little winded as he looks at her soft face, her jaw unclenched as she slept without a single ache in her body that she could be aware of. Her pink hair was spread all over the pillow. She looked  gentle, vulnerable.

"Y/N." He repeats, louder this time.  Not even a flicker of a response from the sleeping girl.
The ache starts in him again, deepening with every soft breath that leaves her. He hated it. He wanted to feel settled. Not on edge around her.
He looks at his hand.
Could he do it? Could he end the subtle torture here, with her unaware? Sensei had always told him to destroy what he hated, and he despised the sickness she brought with her lately. No-one else seemed to feel sick, so it had to be pointed towards him somehow.

As his eyes lift again, he's met by furious pink eyes staring straight back at him.
"Coward." She spits.
He knows precisely what she's talking about, but ignores the insult that would have resulted in his temper being lost if anyone else had dared to say it to him.
"You keep making me feel sick." Tomura slurs slightly. "Stop it."
A look of hurt flashes over her face, before it's replaced with anger again.
"What the fuck are you on about Tomura?"
"You. Whatever you're doing, stop it." He says, pointing at her as she sits up.

"I'm not doing anything. If you're sick, that has nothing to do with me. Stop looking for someone to blame all the time." She hisses back, her own temper clearly beginning to spike.
"Its only you that's making me feel sick. Every time I'm around you it happens." Tomura accuses.
She blinks at him before leaning back for a second, looking him up and down.
"Yeah? What makes you feel sick?" She asks in a patronising tone that made Tomuras lip pull up again.

"Whenever you do anything, it makes me feel sick. Even watching you sleep made my stomach start aching. You weren't asleep, you were using your Quirk. Cut it out." His voice raises more and more as he continues his sentence, his hands beginning to fist up.
To his absolute hatred, she scoffs at him.

"You know Tomura, for someone so intelligent, you're such a dumbass sometimes." She says shaking her head and rolling to her other side. "Use your brain. You're not sick at all."