Tomura sat idle in his chair, free arm wrapped around your waist as you sat back in his lap. His other hand wrote quickly, skimming through the papers of paper work it came with being the Grand Commander of the PLF. Crimson eyes swept over the sentences, his focus on what was in front of him. Pink muscle slipped out of his mouth, his tongue dampening his lips before going back into the carven that was his mouth. The Villain’s grip on your tightened just slightly, pulling your further up his legs.

The man was exhausted, from both the countless experiments done on his body by Dr. Garaki, and having to control the PLF. It took both a toll on the body and mind.

His muscles tensed as you pressed up against him, resting his chin on your shoulder and inhaling your scent, burying his nose in your hair. As he continued writing, he moved his arm wrapped around your waist, resting his hand on your stomach, but being careful to not press all five of his fingers down. He was subconsciously aware of what he was doing.

Setting the pen down, he lifted his hand to scratch at his neck, an old habit.