♥CW: None. Pure fluff. Gender neutral reader.
♥AN: I've been wanting to start writing for Shigaraki so here's something small to start. I love mothman Shiggy fics and I had a cute idea, so here's my little contribution.
This is getting annoying and you’re fed up.
Every time you open your closet, you find your favorite sweaters filled with new holes. How is this even happening? These sweaters are useless in the frigid winter when they are filled with holes. The holes are big too, and there’s only one thing that you can think would have wrecked such havoc on your wardrobe.
You must have a moth infestation.
After buying some moth balls from the local supermarket, you make your way to the closet that night before bed. This should get rid of those pesky moths, you think to yourself.
Opening the closet, you are shocked by the sight before you.
A man with giant wings has your sweater sleeve in his mouth.
His wings are black and white, with an iridescent sheen that lays atop a delicate pattern. Feathery antennae stick out of his shoulder length, white hair. He has a fluffy white ruff around his neck, matching his hair. Ruby red eyes stare back at you with a frown.
With a squeal you throw the mothballs at him.
He hisses, showing off his fangs in an attempt to scare you away. The scent wafting off the mothballs irritate him, so he simply picks them up and throws them back at you. Returning back to his meal.
“Stop it!” you shout, snatching your favorite sweater from his grasp, “This is my favorite sweater!” You’re more concerned about saving your sweater than you are about the literal mothman in your closet.
He squints his eyes at you, “Hungry,” he growls.
Getting a better look at him, he does seem sickly. Very thin and pale, with scars scattered across his skin. He’s wearing tattered pants and no shirt, the sight of his ribs show you just how hungry he is.
You start to feel bad for the poor creature, not enough to sacrifice your sweaters though. “Stay here, I’ll get you some food.”
He waits patiently while you go to the kitchen to fetch him something to eat. He has sharp teeth so you assume he eats meat, grabbing a raw chuck roast from your fridge. Bringing it back to your room on a plate.
“Here,” you sit across from him, offering him the plate. “You can eat this.”
He crawls towards you, cautiously approaching. Sniffing the meal you hold out to him.
With a single, swift motion, he lunges forward. Pushing the plate aside and latching his fangs on the bottom edge of the sweater you’re wearing.
“No! Stop it, my clothes aren’t food!” You protest, pushing his head away from you. But he doesn’t budge no matter how much you try to push him away. It’s obvious that his strength is far beyond that of a human.
He chews at your sweater with urgency, like he hasn’t eaten in ages. And he’s shivering too. It’s the middle of winter and the poor thing doesn’t have any proper way to stay warm. Maybe that's how he ended up in your home, he was looking for a warm place to stay through the winter.
You sigh and stop trying to push him off of you. He’s just hungry after all and you can always buy new clothes. Bringing your hand up to the ruff of his neck, you gently pet his soft fur, “Fine, you can have the sweater.”
He purrs sweetly in response, laying his head in your lap as he continues to eat away at the fabric. You stroke his fur, admiring his beauty for the next hour. Until he’s traveled up your body, and down your arms, devouring every strand of the sweater you were wearing.
The mothman licks his lips in satisfaction, sniffing around your chest to make sure he got it all, before turning around to leave. Figuring that he has overstayed his welcome. Quite embarrassed that he had just savagely devoured your sweater, unable to control himself due to the fact that he hasn’t had a proper meal in weeks.
“Wait!” you reach out to him, “Please stay… at least through the winter. You’ll be safe here.” For some reason, you feel sympathy for him. Yeah he was eating your clothes, but he was only trying to survive.
Why are you inviting him to stay? You should be screaming in fear like the other humans do when they see him. But you’re different… the first person to show him a hint of kindness. He can’t turn you down even if he wanted to, his chances of surviving such a harsh winter will be slim without a warm shelter.
Seeing that he’s not quite convinced, you quickly put on a t-shirt and scurry over to your bed. Holding the blankets open for him to join you. The warmth of your bed beckons him. He can’t remember the last time he had a warm, safe place to sleep. Following his instincts, he slips under the covers with you. Nuzzling up to your chest, purring as you roll your fingers through his white hair.
Surely you must have a death wish, allowing a deadly mothman to huddle up with you for warmth. But you don’t care. So far he’s only shown interest in harming your clothes, so as far as you’re concerned, he won’t harm you.
His tense muscles relax in your touch, wrapping his arms around you with a relaxed sigh. Trying to convince himself that he’s only doing this to warm himself up, no other reason besides that.
“Tomura… my name is Tomura,” he mumbles. Thinking it rude that he hasn’t introduced himself yet, he doesn’t want you to think he’s some wild animal with no manners.
“What a pretty name. My name is Y/N… you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Tomura,” you say sweetly.
“We’ll see…” he grumbles. Burying his face into your chest to hide the blush forming across his cheeks.
He’s so comfy here with you, that he might just consider staying through the entire winter. And you wouldn’t mind one bit.
