#shigaraki fanfiction
Note
Nasty alpha wolf-boy Shiggy buying virgin bunny reader at a shady auction, taking her home and breeding her silly in all her tight bunny holes<3
BNHA ! THIRST
Shigaraki Tomura x darling
WC: 2.5k
TW: NSFW, captive darling, light bondage, oral giving/receiving, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, hybrid au
Shigaraki doesn’t get along with most other organizations aside from his own, but he could hold a certain respect for this establishment. He felt appreciated here – a valued customer – one with a hungry appetite the vendor saved only the very best herbivores for.
Herbivores like you.
“She was easy to tame- submissive like she was made for it!” The Master said. “A bit too submissive for my taste- but you know what they say about bunnies- cute like a button and just as dumb!”
Your thighs rubbed themselves where you stood in the dark of your blindfold. Bleating and cowering in the chastity belt they’d fixed tight around your lower body – having you sheathed on two thick cocks stretching out both virgin holes – making you drippy – vibrating inside you with purrs tickling your core in thrums he could hear from ten meters away.
“Stuff her in the trunk and take her home if you want- she’s so soft around the edges and pumped with hormones she won’t mind the bumpy road. You could take her right here on the concrete, and all she’d do is just moan!”
He could smell it in the air – how heated you were. Sopping like a braindead whore – he bet you’d been stuck in that chastity belt for hours, as sweaty and trembling as you were. Unstable were you stood in pink pumps soaked full of the slick running down your thighs – only managing to stand thanks to the big bodyguard behind you. He was a beastly fucker, squeezing one of your tits tight in a big bear paw while fisting your leash like a noose in the other, pulling the thick black collar kept snug on your throat only to feel your plush ass rub against his crotch.
The way your arms were cruelly bent behind your back was of no help to your balance either, making your perky tits strut forward. Stiff nipples begging for a suck or a twist or a slap – sculpted a bit by an additional harness shaped like a bra with no filling – just thin black leather lines extenuating that on display.
“My hunters swear she’s a pure little thing, so normally I would demand you pay extra-”
Two black heart-shaped eyepatches had you blindfolded but were kept lenient enough to allow tears to soak through, layered damp on your cheeks and giving a pretty plump bloat to your lips – sucking on the pink ballgag stuffed in your mouth, fastened tight around your head – making all your noises come out wet and even more feeble.
“But she’s yours free of charge if the league handles some business for me~”
Your lop ears drooped sadly down your cheeks, framing your cute face like a picture where your little nose kept wrinkling in terribly adorable sniffles – squealing on what he could tell was another ride over the edge.
“Deal.” He barked shortly, a growl in his throat.
The Master grinned. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Shigaraki.” Tossing him the keys to the lock on your cunt before snapping his fingers, gesturing for the bodyguard to do the same with the leash – pushing you in a wobbling stumble over to your new owner.
And then he really felt you tremble – soft yet stiff, bracing yourself against him – the smell of utter terror and arousal so thick he found himself drooling just at a single close whiff – all the hair on his tail spiked on strict end as a hunger growled low in his gut.
He felt his pants grow taut and gave a hiss – shoving you on your stomach in a sprawl onto the backseat. Throwing your legs inside before slamming the door shut – putting his fingers to his lips – your slick wet on them, glossy and sweet in his nose like a perfume as he licked them clean while getting in the car.
“Drive.” He muttered in another curt growl, signaling the man to his side to turn the keys as he pawed the straining tent bumping his boxers with yet another hiss.
Huffing, he closed his eyes, listening to you nom on your gag with wet cries and moans – his chest tight and brows furrowed – cursing having said yes to clean up another organization’s mess, and even more frustrated with your scent hanging heavy in the air, making everything spin for him – until finally reaching the base.
“Get out, Binky- welcome to your new home.”
He tugged your collar again soon after the car stopped, and out you shuffled – sweaty and shivering on legs that could barely hold their own weight – supported by the hand he had raked in your hair, pulling and dragging your body out into the cold.
Letting go once you were out of the backseat, he started fisting the leash instead, yanking you forward with heels clicking in no steady rhythm – wonky on the ground where you struggled to keep up with him. Slick between your thighs, rubbing together as you walked.
You were still blindfolded – floppy ears shifty at the sounds of doors opening and slamming shut, along with the threatening cheers of the crowd of villains drinking in the rooms the two of you passed. It’s as though he can hear you praying, hoping that he’s not planning on sharing you with the rest of the fray the way you flinch at the whistles and filthy comments being thrown your way.
You sped up until your tits bumped into his back – walking close with your head bowed to shield yourself.
Splitting a grin, he chuckled out a low snort. He hadn’t thought you’d be so silly to seek his comfort. But dumb as it was, his cock seemed to find it unexpectedly pleasant.
Reaching his room, he fished for his key – hands unsteady, tongue gracing his fangs as he unlocked it before stepping inside. Hauling you behind him into the musty space where he at once pounced on you like a predator who’d finally lost all patience.
Paws with claws gabbed your tit with a force that made you stumble – almost fall if he hadn’t tugged you back by your leash. His tongue ran wet over the sweet drool dripping down your neck and chin – his canines close to your neck, making you shiver and bleat for him while his hand dropped down to cup your sex.
Stopping short at the thick feel of latex beneath his fingertips, he growled and shoved you in a toppling wobble until your back hit the soft embrace of the bed behind you. You met it with a bounce and a yelp smothered in your gag – and he followed quickly, crawling on top of you with the key in hand. Carefully caressing the lock on your belt – thinking it would be a shame to destroy it when he could make use of it later. He would need to keep you protected if the way everyone eyed you was any indication. After all, he couldn't expect a base crawling with only carnivores to resist the scent of a herbivore as sweet as you.
He turned the key in the hole and pulled the cruel construction down your thighs, and you gave a whine, hips bucking at the release, quaking at the empty feeling while he eyed the lewd mixture of slick clinging in pretty bridges between the two closing holes and the two glossy rubber cocks still wet and warm with your heat.
“You make quite a slutty mess for a virgin.” He teased, with two of his coarse fingers dragging up your slick clit – gleeful eyes watching you squirm while releasing a strangled sound caught between a moan and a scream – riddled with overstimulation to the point you were cumming in spasms from only the single little touch.
He only chuckled at the sight. Leaving you to pant and quake beneath him – with shakey breaths anticipating the painful pleasure of his touch once again.
“Sensitive, scared, horny- tortured by your own fickle hormones and instincts- I know what you want…” He continued, now with the words leaving hot puffs against the slick skin on your thighs. “You want this teensy little rabbit hole destroyed by the big bad wolf….”
Your whimpers were like a symphony – sweet and softly tuned to strum every string in his gut – purring and stirring something sticky and heavy and starving inside of him.
“Look at this pussy….” He groaned with a click of his tongue – his eyes set on the wet puffy little thing between your legs. “So pretty- I could bite it.”
Your back took an arch, jumping from the bed once his hot mouth hit your mound – letting out another uncontrolled moan – heart pounding so loud and savagely in your chest he could feel it pulse on his tongue inside you as he lapped at you like a parched mutt.
His claws dug with greed, plunged deep into the cake of your thighs, locking you around his jaw where he mouthed at your core with eyes rolling back. Every fiber went on a rampage within him, zipping along his limbs and gathering in his gut like one tight-clenched aching fist.
“Mh-fuck-” He took a breath, mouth gaping and dripping with spit and slick before moving upward, sucking kisses into the soft skin of your tummy and soon locking his lips around your nipple – with one hand working your free titty, the other fucked your hole with horny curiosity, delving in the slick with twists and curls and scissoring.
You whined under his touches, quaking on all counts – listening to your hole squelch while your oh-so-sensitive insides clenched down hard from the warm knot coiling in your lower belly, coming so close to that all-over-feeling yet again – shaking your head in fear of it.
“Piss yourself if it helps- I don’t mind-” He growled out low in a whisper, his fangs against your throat now, grazing playfully with rugged breaths hot against your flushed skin. “I won’t stop until I’ve broken in each hole-”
Eyes big and swiveled with tears rippling down your cheeks in rushed rivulets, all the while your pussy made out with his fingers – feeling the fat digits test the flex of your gummy walls – slippery with slick and happily fluttering from his touches.
You soon caved for the umpteenth time – whole body strangling to suppress the sensation while unsure how much more you could take before going numb.
“Tch- there you go~ good bunny~” He praised in mockery, snickering at your panting – his breath hot on your skin where he moved to hover above your gagged lips – undoing the straps to free your mouth.
“Ah please, m-master- please- no more-” You immediately begged, mouth wet with drool.
“Mh- you’ve got manners…” He moaned, keeping his fingers in your cunt while holding you by the ear in the other hand, gripping it tight and rubbing the thin softness like a lucky charm. Tugging himself out of his pants, messy with pre, he immediately steered the fatness to your mouth. “Open up~”
You took it with a small whine, feeling it push onto your tongue and further in until it hit the back of your throat in a kiss. He gave a groan, feeling your bloated lips wrap around the shaft as you glucked on his length in soft mewls – eyes panning from the view to watch your little titties bounce at the movement, doing small jumps for him as he rammed your sweet face.
He removed your eyepatches – wanting to see your pretty eyes glossy and big for him as you sucked his cock.
The look on your face made his gut rumble – so sweet-looking with your cinched brows and button-nose – eyeing him with cute anxiety, no doubt taking in the scary sight of his red eyes and his pale skin littered with scars.
You coughed cutely when he withdrew, and he bent over to kiss you again, spit stringing between your tongues as his fingers went back to your clitty – rubbing crass circles into it that had you squealing into his mouth.
“Please, master-” You cried, wringing your thighs shut tight around his hand – tears springing from the pity puddles of your eyes as you looked at him with such plead it made his gut roar.
He could only offer a gleeful giggle, spreading your thighs by pulling you snugly around his waist – his cock jumping eagerly above your navel as he bore over you – his breath hot on your face. “Don’t worry, baby bunny, I’ll stuff you up good. Breed you full of a warm creampie in your tight little cunt.” He cooed, fangs sharp and glistening – his paw flat on your belly, rubbing the flesh with want. “Right here~ warm and thick in your little womb~”
You shuddered at the threat, then whined an open-mouthed moan as he sleaved himself inside you. Feeling his every fat vein rub along your walls until his plush head nudged tight against your cervix – making you mewl with an arch in your back, clenching hard around the size of him. Shaking from the toll of it.
He groaned, starting to pound you already – fast and deep, just like a hound rutting. “I’m gonna give you my knot, Bunbun-” He drooled, sucking your cheek with tongue and teeth – red eyes set on your plump and pouty lips – gaping open and begging for more while he continued raving. “Gonna knot you up so tight- make this virgin pussy tremble for me-”
You could only pant, getting run through at such a pace your next orgasm was fucked right out of you. Sweat pilled on your forehead and nose, thighs trembling as you came on his thickness in hot, heaving moans. Throttling his cock for cum – which he soon spilled deep inside you just like he promised – painting your insides with it with balls clenching up, resting snugly against the slick that spilled out.
He was messy when he pulled out again. Glossy and still raging fat as he rolled you over on your stomach – pulling your ass up by your hips while you remained breathless with exhaustion, smudged against the pillowy sheets beneath you.
He laid his meat between your asscheeks, eyes lazily looking over your dewy face and how pretty you looked fucked out on his bed.
“This bunny-hole’s never felt cock either, huh?” He said, voice breathy but eager still – planting his tip at the opening of the taut little entrance before beginning to push.
You moaned out again but could only ball your fists for purchase, still kept in a lock behind your back – tightening them until your knuckles whitened while he crammed himself inside you one stout inch at a time.
“Mmh- fuck, so tight~ it’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good hugging me nice and snug~” He almost whined, getting swallowed down until his pelvis met your ass and the ball of fluff found there – doing a little dance just for him. “Fuck- look at you, little cottontail~” He groaned, leaving himself sunk down to the hilt inside you for a moment of appreciation before beginning to drag out to pound your stomach into a nice mess. “So perfect, I outta take a picture~”
tip-jar: Kofi
#yandere shigaraki#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere shigaraki tomura#yandere shiggy#yandere shigaraki x reader#yandere mha#yandere bnha#shigaraki smut#shigaraki thirst#yandere tomura shigaraki#yandere tomura#tomura smut#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigaraki fanfiction#shigaraki x y/n#shigaraki imagine#shigaraki x you#tomura x you
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❦ CHERRY PICKING
cw: mature, virgin!shigaraki, fem!reader, dry humping, unprotected sex, cream pie, corruption kink, loser gamer shigaraki (love this shit)
it wasn’t a secret. he stared shamelessly at your tits while you spoke, and you didn’t even bother to let him know cause you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose. every time someone in the league would call him out on his blatant behaviour he’d turn red and leave immediately.
so it wasn’t a stretch to say he wanted to fuck you.
thing is, he was so obviously a virgin. couldn’t even fake knowing how to talk to a woman. and he must’ve been so masochistic cause he just couldn’t stay away from you. just yesterday, he was a second away from popping a boner when you bent over to pick up something you dropped. and you weren’t even trying to rile him up!
god, you wanted to just eat him up.
you wanted to break him down and you wanted to ruin him. you wanted him to never be satisfied with his fist or anyone else ever again.
so you went into his room, somewhere no one was allowed. who would want to, anyway. garbage bags thrown around on the floor—not even closed, so you could see crumpled up tissues falling out—dual monitors and a bunch of little figurines around his desk.
the constant clicks of his keyboard, his dry eyes glued to the screen, and the headset over his tangled hair kept him from noticing you sitting on his unmade bed. your gaze looked at his side profile, watched his pupils shoot back and forth across his game. he was so cute, you couldn’t wait to hear what kind of noises he’d make.
at some point, you couldn’t sit still anymore, you got up and walked over to the back of his chair, focus trailing over his screen and down to his hands. long, rough fingers that knew exactly what they were doing played with the mouse and the keyboard, you almost drooled at the thought of what you could teach him to do.
“you’re good with your fingers.” you said and shigaraki jumped.
“what the hell are you doing?” he hissed and you watched his character die.
“i wanted to see you.” you smiled.
“no.” he said a little too quickly.
“no?” you laughed and he shook his head to try and clear his mind. “what do you mean ‘no’?”
“i-i mean—fuck—why are you here?” he scratched at his neck and you took a seat back on his bed.
“isn’t it obvious?” you asked.
shigaraki didn’t say anything. his eyes just watched you, trailed over your body as you sighed.
“tomura~” you sang and patted the spot next to you.
it didn’t take him more than a split second to stand up, once he did, though, he hesitated to walk over, but listened to you anyway.
his fingers still scratched at his skin, so you took it in your hand and pulled it away.
“have you ever kissed anyone, tomura?” you asked and he paused, then shook his head, looking anywhere but at you.
“i’m sure you know how to though, right?”
shigaraki scoffed. “of course i do.”
“then kiss me.” you turned his chin towards you. your eyes fluttered a bit, just wanting to feel him. the thrill of knowing your his first is enough to make you wet.
but shigaraki was taking too long. too damn long. he was hesitating and as much as you loved his shyness, you couldn’t help it anymore.
you crashed your lips onto his. they were dry and cracked, and didn’t move until it finally dawned on him what was happening. then it was clumsy. he tried to take over, but he had no idea what to do. he slipped in his tongue but it wasn’t much better, just an inexperienced mess of spit. you could have laughed at him but this was something that you just loved. you had to show him that he wasn’t in charge here. being the ‘boss’ didn’t mean he could help himself here, and as you crawled onto his lap, hand guiding the back of his neck exactly where you wanted, he started to submit to you.
once he began to get the hang of it, you released your grip on him, instead exploring his lanky body. this is what got those beautiful whimpers from his mouth. and when you brought your hand to his hard cock and squeezed through his pants, his small and high pitched whine nearly made you moan along.
“fuck, you’re so cute.” you bite his lip.
“‘m not cute.” he mumbled as you got off of his lap.
a giggle escaped your lips as you kneeled between his legs, your hands fumbling with his jeans.
“you are cute.” you stated, pulling his underwear down. “and if you say you’re not, then im gonna be using my mouth to argue instead of doing this.”
shigaraki shut up at that, and he lifted his hips to help you free his cock as it slapped against his stomach. you had to hold yourself back from just shoving the poor thing down your throat, you needed to draw this out for him. you wanted to have him crying and begging for you.
as much as it pained you, you started with kitten licks, focusing on the head of his dick as you popping it into your mouth. tomura rewarded your patience with his head thrown back and a choked groan coming out of his throat, his fingers tangled in your hair and tried to push your head down. you fought against him, getting another whine from him as you reminded him that you were the one in charge.
you started to train him. every noise he made had a little more of your mouth over his dick until your nose was pressed against his pubes and your hands were fondling his balls. if only you could look up and see his whimpering face all screwed up in pleasure, fingers grabbing at the sheets he sat on so as not to jeopardize your warm mouth around him. it didn’t seem like he knew that he had started bucking his hips into your throat, but you let it go, you had been with enough losers to know the signs of him coming undone. you decided to reward him by taking his hand and leading it to your head. sneaking a look up, you could see the complete nirvana on his face as he realized you were letting him fuck your throat. you knew this was gonna be good. from all those tissues, you knew that he was jacking off all those times he got red and ran away from you, so he had to know how to use a fleshlight and right now that was you.
he had you gagging and choking, spit running down your chin as you sucked him off. and you had him crying out in pleasure, going faster and faster until he was cumming down your throat. not even letting you spit out the salty liquid—not that you would, anyway, you wanted him to watch you swallow everything, so you did.
you watched his glazed over eyes zone in on your pretty mouth, chest heaving as you SWORE you saw a small tear trickle down his cheek.
now it was time for your fun.
you planned to make out some more, touch him to get him hard again before you let him in your pussy, but upon looking down, you noticed his cock still hard, red, and dripping. a sadistic smile took over as you looked up at his scared face, but he didn’t have to time say anything before you took off your shirt and jumped on him, making him taste his nasty cum as you stuck your tongue down his throat. you pulled his hair, bite his shoulders and tugged at his clothes. shigaraki tried to keep up with your feral groping, but all he could do was submit to your torture as he tried to take off your clothes, whining and whimpering at your assault on his body.
“just break them.” you commanded, and he dusted off both your clothes until you were both naked.
you pulled shigaraki on top of you. “now get inside me.”
his eyes widened. “what? but—what about a condom?”
you actually threw your head back and laughed at that. the thought that he really expected to get laid at some point and was prepared was hilarious. still though, you weren’t gonna let anything stand in the way of being the best sex he would ever had, you wanted him to cum inside you just like that filthy porn you know he had to have watched.
“funny, pretty boy, i think we both know you’d rather fuck me raw.” you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him towards you. “so get to it.”
tomura was clumsy. he grabbed the base of his hard cock and lined it up with your hole, it took him a second, probably taking a moment to appreciate the fact that he was finally going to feel pussy. after all those years of his fist and toys, watching those jacked guys fuck someone on his computer, and now it was his turn.
shigaraki almost collapsed on top of you as soon as he entered you. not only was it so much tighter and warmer than he ever thought, but he was still so overstimulated from your mouth that he was shaking.
still, when you told him to fuck you, he couldn’t help but slam into you over and over again, chasing the thought of cumming in you raw.
his eyes fell down to your tits, bouncing with the motion of his hips and turning his brain into mush.
“you like this, baby?” you moaned and his attention drew to your face. shigaraki couldn’t form words, only sounds of pleasure mixed with some ‘please’s as he felt his orgasm building up again. watching the bliss on your sadistic face was everything he could ever want and more, and as much as he wanted to keep going forever, he was breaking down. his hips stuttered and all he could think about was the fact that he was filling your pussy with HIS cum. he cried out your name, his head thrown back and his vision going white.
then he fell on top of you. covered in a thin layer of sweat as he lay on your chest, he was prepared for you to push him off and leave him now that you got what you want. he didn’t like that that thought made him upset. he wanted more.
“are you gonna leave now?” he whispered, barely audible in the hopes that you wouldn’t hear it.
tomura felt your chest vibrate with a soft laugh. he looked up at you.
“you think i’m gonna leave without you making me cum on your fingers?”
#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha smut#bnha smut#shigaraki headcanons#shigaraki x you#mha shigaraki#bnha shigaraki#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x y/n#shigaraki thirst#shigaraki fanfiction#shigaraki smut#sub shigaraki#shigaraki tomura#tenko shimura
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Edging creepy Tenko until he’s a whining drooling mess with a swollen leaky cock Ɛ>
“A-aaah please-se-se”
Tenko didn’t know how much more of this he could take. It’s true, he’s always loved being touched by you, your velvety hands never failing to make him feel like he’s in heaven. But like Lucifer falling from said heaven, the pleasure had quickly turned into hell for him. Fuck, he’s sorry, he’s sorry!
“Mmhmphhh, I’m-I’m sorry! I’m sorry-hyyy”
You giggled, watching his desperately hard cock throbbed painfully, the whole shaft painted red due to you denying his orgasm again and again. You can practically see his balls throbbing as they beg to be emptied.
But you didn’t listen. Instead you waited until he was ever so close before pulling your hand away, letting his cock slap back against his stomach as he wailed out. You waited for him to cool down before wrapping your hand around his cock and jerking him, repeating the cycle.
“Oh? And what are you sorry for baby? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Despite this, he continued blabbering apologies, the lack of relief seemingly having short circuited his brain and only letting him say those words.
“I’m sorry! I-Iaaah, I’m s-sorry!”
You smirked.
“Baby I’m not doing this as a punishment. Not to my good, sweet boy~” his dick twitched at that making him moan in painful pleasure.
He then surprised you, switching it up and adding a new phrase to his currently limited vocabulary.
“T-then wh-aaah please, then w-why-then-then-why-“ he can feel tears gathering in his eyes, from what he doesn’t know. Frustration, yearning, insecurity, all of those feelings melting down and forming melancholy.
He refused to let those tears fall. He’s a man, he’s a manly man. And manly men don’t cry.
You grabbed him forcefully by his chin, making sure he was looking at your erotically devious face. “Because I want to see you cry for me.”
Maybe some men cry.
He wailed out, a mess of ‘please’s and ‘sorry’s tumbling out as he yet again reached his high, scared you would deny him. He felt his warm tears coat his cheeks as he broke down, begging you to let him finish in the most desperate, lewd moaning.
Satisfied, this time your hand didn’t stop, and you could practically see the relief on his face when the first rope of cum shot out of his dick. He threw his head back, legs quaking and back arched as he opened his mouth in a silent scream. Ropes and ropes of pent up cum burst out of him, coating him, you, and the sheets in his jizz.
You smiled, continuing to pump him until he was completely finished, his cock immediately turning back to the pink, soft state you knew and loved.
Wiping your brow (with your other hand), you finally look back up at him after admiring his fountain.
“Feel better baby?”
He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t do anything really, hanging limply in his leather restraints. You snapped your finger in his face but got no response, pulling his head up only to find his eyes rolled back into his head, passed out.
You quickly checked his breathing, before patting his shoulder affectionately after making sure he was ok.
You then sighed, leaving him to get a towel to clean him up with.
Damn it, he passed out again.
#shigaraki tenko#my hero academia#shigaraki fanfiction#my hero academia shigaraki#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x y/n#boku no hero academia tomura#shigaraki fluff#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki smut#tenko shimura#tenko smut#shimura tenko#shimura tenko smut
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✮ Personal assistence ✮
I shall present to you a new down to core kinky oneshot: Tomura Shigaraki x Bunny!Reader
TW: NSFW, she/her pronouns, p in v sex, praise, degradation, caught while having sex
✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮
This job was a step into a better life with better salary. Even though you were just an assistant. The job was quite simple, but hectic. After two months, you were doing everything for your boss… for the great commander of the Paranormal Liberation Front. Re Destro was really happy about your work and he applied you to an even better position. The personal assistant of Tomura Shigaraki. Your work got even more hectic and you practically became Shigaraki’s shadow. And if you accidentally had some free time, you still followed Shigaraki like a puppy. A puppy… with white rabbit ears and a small white rabbit tail. Such a perfect assistant!
First weeks in the new position were… awkward. Your office was in his. You just had a small desk with a computer, calendar and a phone. You just sat all day by the desk and arranged his schedule to his likings. That meant changing his schedule all the time, because he was lazy and then making excuses and calling everyone from his meetings. But after quite a lot of days you started to know each other’s presence. You memorized his favorite meals and his favorite coffee. And he stopped being so whiny, so you had less work with his schedules. Things were getting better. You followed him to every meeting taking notes of the important things and every time you were walking in the hallway, his big hand rested on your back. Always. Every walk with him by the hall. When you sat by your desk and arranged a new meeting for him, he always went to you after the call and looked at his schedule, while slightly holding your thigh. When you got him coffee, he always slightly stroked your ass and the back of your thighs and asked about his next task.
These slight touches slowly became grasps and firm holds. Your whole day routine changed to be in more contact with him. “Good morning sir.” you chirped and put his coffee in his favorite place. “Thank you darling.” He mused and slapped your ass. “What are we dealing with today?” “Just a meeting with the league members at 2 pm. That’s all for today.” You smiled and felt his hand traveling under your short skirt and pinching one of your cheeks. You squealed and jumped a little, your tail twitching. “You forget something.” Tomura said firmly. “T-that’s all for today… sir.” You mumbled and he grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap. “Such a good girl.” He mused and your ears lowered a little. Praising was always your weak spot. His hand wandered from your ass to your knee and back. He squished your thighs and looked at some documents. “Maybe we should try something new.” He looked at you. Hunger and lust in his eyes and a raging problem in his tight pants. You gulped. One of his hands trailed to your face, stroking your cheek and stroking your lips with his thumb. “I always wondered how your cute and little mouth would feel on my cock. Get to work darling. So you can go back to your work as soon as you can.” He smiled at you, his eyes almost hypnotizing you. “Y-yes sir.” You whispered and got onto your knees under his desk. You always liked him… admired him, his power. Your soul always screamed when he touched you. Always wanting more. Your hands gently unzipped his pants, your ears lowering to your head and your tail twitching with excitement. You pulled down his pants and boxers to reveal his raging boner. It was… Thicker than you expected. He had beautiful veins on his full length and his scent… Oh god. It was even more hypnotizing than his eyes. And his heavy balls full to their brim ready for release. You gently licked his cock and then took him in your mouth. “Mm. I have my new favorite sight.” He grinned and watched as your head bobbed on his dick. From this perfect state startled Shigaraki a knock on the door. “Come in.” He said while smiling at your surprised look and gesturing you to keep up. Another assistant walked inside. “W-where is your assistant?” On Tomura’s face appeared a shit eating grin. “She went on a quick break. What is it?” “We got new information about heroes’ patrol shifts.” “Great. Put them on her desk.” He mumbled and after a while you heard the door closing. You met his ruby eyes and smiled. He chuckled and relaxed. His hand stroked your ears and grabbed your hair. He started guiding your head to his favorite rhythm, making you gag. Such a beautiful sound and view. After this joyful moment you felt him tense up. His hand pulled you into his groin, his pubic hair tickling you. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt his cock squirting semen into your throat, making you gag even more. He loosened his grip and you pulled away gulping for air. “I have a new daily task for you.” He grinned. “I’m glad sir.” You smiled.
After this encounter, every day was wilder. Your throat was sore everyday, but it was worth it. But this time Tomura decided to push this encounter into something even more. You finally had a free afternoon and you don’t even know how it happened. The sound of wet skin slapping echoed through his office room. You laid on your clean desk, his hands firmly holding your hips. The scent of making out masked your senses and his grunts were the only thing you could hear. You grabbed his tie and lowered him to you kissing his lips. Tomura smiled. “Such a good assistant… ugh… We need to do this more. Imagine me bending you over. Fucking you in front of a mirror. Or in front of the windows. Or in the meeting rooms.” Your ears twitched. “Oh, you would like that? Yeah? My cute slut would like that?” He grinned and kissed your nipples. You mewled and your back arched. All of this was too much for you. The knot in your abdomen finally snapped and you slightly squirted on his shirt. “Oh fuck.” He mumbled and admired your exhausted body. He grabbed your ass firmly and sped up. He huffed, towering above you. He kissed you feverishly and came right inside your cunt. He mused happily and slowed down. He picked up the phone and gave it to you. “Call and get me a new shirt.” You smiled and dialed the phone. After a while, someone knocked on the door. You slowly got up leaving his embrace and his softening cock. You arranged your clothes and picked up his clothes. “Here sir.” You smiled and gave him the shirt.
Since then you were fucking like rabbits. That fits you, right? You were fucking everywhere you could, missing some appointments and dealing with it later. You sat on his lap cockwarming him, while he thought about his new plans. Sometimes he fucked you only to torture you by making you call and arrange meetings while your session. The only one who knew about your little affair was Schuichi. You once stayed after your shift, only for a make out session. You ended up stuck in a room with cleaning products. It was small and cramped, but you still fit in there. You were pushed against the wall and your legs were around his waist. He fucked you up the wall not wanting to stop. “I… Got you something.” He huffed and kissed your neck. “What is it sir?” You smiled at him. And then you felt it. A fabric around your neck. You looked at him. “It fits you well.” You take it in your hands and look at it. It was white collar with a name sewn on it. It said: “Bunny”. You smiled. “Thank you so much.” I beamed and kissed him passionately. Your faces were met with a big stream of light. Schuichi stood by the opened door looking flabbergasted with an open mouth. You felt your cheek heat up and you hid your face in Tomura’s chest. “I just wanted… to get the new markers.” Schuichi mumbled and Tomura handed them to him and closed the door back. Then he bursted laughing and you chuckled. You never noticed why Schuichi needed these markers. Maybe for one of these meeting rooms?
Time flew by and you started living with him. Assisting him every minute of his life. Your relationship was now official and the league was happy for Tomura. You snuggled into him sitting with the league on the couch on a movie night. Tomura smiled and toyed with your bunny tail. You blushed and cuddled into him. He lowered to you and whispered into your ear.
“I can’t wait for the night to breed your tummy to the brim.”
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A/n: Thank you so much for reading this! I stitched this up just from my kinky thoughts from lonely nights. And here is a little secret! I'm planning another oneshot from an office AU, where reader is the boss and Tomura is a hardworking employee in a need of a reward!
#bnha shigaraki#my hero academia shigaraki#mha shigaraki#shigaraki#shigaraki imagine#shigaraki tomura#tenko shimura x reader#shigaraki smut#tomura shigaraki#shigaraki hcs#shigaraki x y/n#shigaraki x you#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x female reader#shigaraki fanfic#shigaraki fanfiction#shigaraki thirst#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura x you#tomura shigaraki smut#tomura shigaraki x reader#shimura tenko#tenko shimura#tomura shiragaki
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Shigaraki, Overhaul and Dabi
with a Pregnant Partner
Shigaraki x GN! pregnant reader; Overhaul x GN! Pregnant reader, Dabi x GN! pregnant reader
Warnings: reader being reckless, fluff, reader is a villain in Shigaraki and Dabi’s part (is that a warning? Idk)
AN: just me being me again 😌💅 living out my hopes and dreams with soft villains
Shigaraki
Shigaraki was a busy man. He was always looking for ways to further his league of villains all while destroying All Might and his stupid protégé, Izuku Midoriya. However, his biggest challenge currently wasn’t his determination to end hero society or even to create a larger foundation for the league but instead, it was keeping his very pregnant partner contained.
“You never let me do anything fun!” You grumbled as Tomura looked at you, completely unfazed by your usual usual temper tantrum. You were six months pregnant and Tomura had learned very early on how little you appreciated his opinion on keeping yourself out of villainy duties, especially since you had become pregnant.
“So you want to give birth in prison YN?” He responds to you as you glare at him, looking around to garner any support from your fellow league memebers.
“Hey don’t look at us Yn, hand man has a point,” Dabi chuckles as Shigaraki ignored his comments, turning back to the house of cards he was currently building.
“YN my dear don’t you think you should prioritize rest especially in your current state?” Mr. Compress interjects as you turn your glare to the magician. You chose to ignore them and go back to the source your current frustration.
“Tomura I’m bored! You can’t keep me locked up in this bar forever!” You whine as Shigaraki sighs. He honestly has no idea what to do with you, and if you meant less to him, he’d probably just kill you but alas, his stupid feelings for you had always gotten in the way.
“Please listen to Tomura Shigaraki YN, he is only looking out for you,” Kurogiri adds as you continue to grumble, folding your arms and stomp your feet. You really were being completely insufferable.
Shigaraki sighed, standing up and resting his head on your shoulder while gently grazing your bump, “YN will you please stop being a brat and listen to us? We- I want you safe and you know what the doctor said. Now please will you stop annoying everyone?”
You rolled your eyes at his confession knowing Tomura meant every word he said. He was rarely affectionate but when he was, you truly knew he cared.
“Ugh fine!” You grumbled as you felt a smirk grow you’re partners face knowing he won, “But the first Nomu attack after I give birth I get to go too!”
Shigaraki chuckled, shaking his head, “whatever you say brat.”
Overhaul
Overhaul opened the door to the bedroom, wanting to do nothing more than to crawl into bed and cuddle with you. He was exhausted, his serum to eliminate quirks was nearly finished and the Shie Hassaiki was ready for phase two of his plan. He opened the door and turned on the bathroom light, looking over to see you sound asleep. Only he wasn’t met with the usual angelic picture of you in slumber, instead he was met with an empty bed. He sighed, leaving your joint room and heading down to the kitchen. His suspicions were confirmed when he noticed the light beaming from below the door.
He slowly opened the door, peering in as he saw you sitting on a stool, eating your current favorite pregnancy craving as you happily hummed away, enjoying every bite.
“Darling, what are you doing?” He asked as you looked up, face beaming with content as you finished your snack.
“Hi Kai! Are you done working? I was waiting for you in bed but then I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d come and have a snack!” You cheered as Kai came next to you, pulling out a stool and sitting with you.
“Would you like a bite?” You asked.
Overhaul looked at you, a look at disgust on his face at your offer, “YN you know I don’t share food.”
You stare at him, deadpan at his confession as you roll your eyes, “you are aware of how I got pregnant right? So you’re really going to sit there and tell me that you won’t eat a bite of my food?”
Kai chuckled as he stood up, grabbing your empty plate and walking it over to the sink. You stood up, heading over to the sink to wash the dishes as Kai stopped you.
“Let me just do the dishes quick and then we can head to bed ok?”
“Leave them darling, someone will take care of them in the morning,” he said as you gaped at him.
“Who are you and what have you done with my husband!” You mock gasped as Kai rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand.
“You need to rest YN, now let’s go,” he said grabbing your hand as you followed behind him. You sighed knowing how much your husband loved and cared for you.
Dabi
Dabi was use to living life on his own, that was until you weaseled your way in and never left. At first he found you annoying, and to be fair, the annoyance never really did go away. However, he now found himself in a position he never thought he’d be in and that was head over heels for you. At this precise moment, however, he was more ready to kill you than he was to hug and kiss you.
“You idiot what are you doing out so late!?!?” He yelled a question you knew was retorical as he dragged you through the back alleyway of the leagues hideout. He was pissed and you knew it.
“Well you said you were coming back around midnight and when you didn’t, I got hungry and since we didn’t have anything to eat, I decided to go and get something to eat,” you declared as Dabi growled at you, turning on his heels and glaring daggers into you. You knew you were in some major trouble but unfortunately, cravings don’t wait.
“YN you know we have food, I just got food for you earlier today!” He whisper shouted as you stood there.
“Well I didn’t want that food! The baby wanted instant ramen which we didn’t have!” You growled back as your partner groaned, his hands going to his head as he paced around the alley.
“YN you realize that we are both wanted criminals right?” He said as you rolled your eyes at him.
“Are we really? I had no clue!” You mocked as you made your way to the entrance of the league’s headquarters, bag of noddles in hand.
“YN you need to stop acting so reckless! It’s one thing for me to get caught but you? Giving birth in Tartarus wouldn’t be a walk in the park!” He shouted as you headed to the kitchen.
“You act like giving birth anywhere will be a walk in the park,” you chimed, annoyed at your boyfriend as he followed you. Dabi was furious but he knew he had to calm down. This was exactly the way you were and it’s one of the big reasons he loved you so much, despite how stupidly you acted at times.
“YN listen, I’m sorry for yelling but you are literally being the biggest idiot right now,” he relented as you went about making your noodles.
“Yeah but I’m an idiot with ramen now,” you sang, unphased by your partners outburst.
“What the hell am I going to do with you?” He said, sitting down as you turned to him and smiled.
“Love me?” You questioned as an annoyed smirk entered his face.
“You’re lucky I already love you idiot.”
#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki tomura#tomura shigaraki#dabi x reader#overhaul#overhaul x reader#gender neutral reader#pregnant reader#touya todoroki#tenko shimura#kai chisaki#dabi#shigaraki x y/n#dabi x yn#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#shigaraki fanfiction#dabi fluff#shigaraki fluff#overhaul fluff#overhaul x y/n#overhaul x you#shigaraki x you#dabi x you#league of villains#shie hassaikai#boku no hero fanfic#my hero fanfic#my hero dabi#my hero Shigaraki
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I think that Shigaraki would eat you out without warning. You could be in the kitchen, cutting up something, and he just kneels behind you and shoves his face between your butt cheeks, lapping at your coochie.
You could just be minding your own business, sitting in a chair or on your bed and he'll face-plant into your crotch. He's become so comfortable he does it in front of other people, making sure to get both of your holes when he knows you have an audience. Dabi sure does have a nice time, seeing you squirm under Shigaraki and jerking off to the performance.
#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki#shigaraki headcanons#shigaraki smut#bnha shigaraki#shigaraki fanfiction#mention of dabi
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soulmate trope | shigaraki tomura
Shigaraki’s route of soulmate trope.
"post-canon shigaraki? canon isn't even finished as of when this was posted on 4 january 2024!"
yeah. thank god. gives us time to write our own endings. and obviously i will be wrong about some things. i recommend you read at least one other route, preferably dabi’s, before reading this one.
warnings: female reader. manga spoilers up to around chapter 390-411ish, based on language used by others to describe shigaraki and his trauma. bodily consequences to his trauma (some things are intended to read as AFO having forced an ED on shigaraki, but this is not made definitive). sexual content. stalking. gore (in a game). reader is experiencing a type of gifted kid burnout.
~28k
There’s a hentai book lying on your bed.
You’ve never seen it before.
Flipping through it, you winced at the positions the large-titted, ponytailed woman was manhandled into, and though you were frankly impressed that she managed to wear such intricate lingerie underneath her everyday business attire, the protagonist only just got home from work; let her decompress for, like, ten minutes before railing her against the window, please.
Whom did you know who would read volume four of something called GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK?
Unfortunately, you were burdened with knowledge about your friends’ sexual habits, and some of them, therefore, were already ruled out: Shinsou only read erotica because he preferred his own imagination to any images hentai or live-action could provide, and Monoma only read hentai in which the woman’s eyes had hearts in them to let the reader know she’s enjoying it—not to mention Monoma wouldn’t buy a hard copy of it, let alone a story that didn’t have more plot and character development to it. There wasn’t enough drool for Sero to be interested, and the male protagonist wasn’t enough of a twink for Kaminari to project onto, so whose was this?
Moreover, who the fuck would come all the way back to your old school’s campus to break into your room to leave it on your bed? (Shinsou would be your best bet for that part, but whenever he finished a patrol nowadays, he went directly to sleep, and his and Monoma’s flat was across town.)
You cat, Dango, jumped onto the bed, slithering up next to you and bumping her head on your elbow affectionately.
“Is this yours?” you asked her, and she sniffed the book before climbing into your lap.
You tossed the book aside to pet your cat with both hands, and you resolved not to think about it any longer, even though the cringy way the mangaka depicted the female orgasm was burnt onto your brain.
***
Hopping to put your heel back into a ballet flat, you held the phone between your ear and shoulder while you struggled towards the lift. “I’ve got to cancel on you, Ochaco,” you said, flipping the back of your blazer collar down and adjusting the lapels, “I’m, fuck—I’m not gonna be able to make it this evening, so just go without me.”
Uraraka sighed on her end. “Okay. I know a lot of us were excited to see you after so long—there’s a card Tsu’s made us all to sign, and everything—but we’ll manage. ‘Spose we’ll just have a routine night at the bar and reschedule when you can make it. I miss you,” she said, “and I’m pretty sure I can say the same for everyone.”
The elevator door slid open, and you entered. “All of you are so clingy. I’ve only been away from the agency for around two months, and you know where to find me.” You mashed the button for the ground floor. “In fact, it’s embarrassingly easy to access me.”
“Well, we’re very busy,” said Uraraka, “People are very eager to conscript us for missions, even if they really could be done by the police. U.A. alumni have somehow upticked in their popularity even more since we graduated—”
“Ochaco, I know. I was there. Allow me to weep for your success. I am playing the world’s tiniest violin.” You shifted your bag’s full weight onto your shoulder and exited into the commons. “But listen. I’ve got to go; I’m running late this morning. I couldn’t find my pantyhose even though I laid them out last night, and they weren’t in any of my cat’s usual hiding places. I had to turn my flat upside down and still never found them.” The outside doors slid open when you approached, and the harsh, morning wind upset your hair on impact. “Give everyone my love, O. Tell Todoroki to smile in his next interview.” Eyes darting across your surroundings for any witnesses, you shrank in on yourself and bit the inside of your cheek. “And tell everyone I’m sorry, okay?”
By the time you arrived at U.A.’s administration building, the wind had been joined by a light drizzle that would probably morph into a storm within the hour, a prediction compounded by a plethora of faculty umbrellas in and beside the stand by the sliding doors. The front office was gloriously vacant, though, so you were able to slip behind the front desk without someone rebuking you for being—you shook the computer mouse to wake it up, the clock popping up in the corner—seventeen minutes late.
(You’d graduated with the rest of the class six months ago, and you’d founded the all-girls agency uptown, with most of the women in the graduating class joining to form an instant powerhouse of the industry.
Founding an agency appealed to a good deal of graduates, but you were the only one to go the distance: you were the one to actually make the calls, fill out the paperwork, get aggravating shit done, and by the time to move into the building, it had pleased you to no end that Midoriya had asked you for help on kickstarting his own.
And then two months ago, you’d pulled off, frankly, what was supposed to be an impossible rescue. For the first time, you were getting enormous amounts of attention, from civilians, from press, from other heroes—and you were being followed, never having more than a moment to yourself—always being watched, either from well-wishers or nay-sayers—and sometimes, the analytical critic, eager to point out your faults in the rescue mission to try to drag you out of the hero scene.
You hated yourself for this, but they won.
Too many expectations. All sinking down on you, as if no other hero existed while the light shone in your direction. [And you hated yourself for even daring to consider this—what reprehensible audacity, but—but was this how All Might had felt?]
You’d had something next door to a panic attack when a convenience store, a regular stop in your weekly routine, filmed your reaction to how they’d auctioned off your signed receipt for over nine hundred thousand yen. Breaking their cameras, Shinsou had to escort you out of there in a rush and call Aizawa for help.
Sobbing into Shinsou’s phone on the soggy concrete of a darkened alleyway, you did something you never fathomed you’d ever do, something you could never see any of your friends ever doing, something that seemed as alien and unthinkable as sticking your hand into a pit of needles: you begged Aizawa to get you out of the hero business.
You’ve been handled with care and relocated into a surprising covert secretarial job in the U.A. admin, Nezu’s logic was that you’d adjust to one person needing you at a time, say, over email or at the desk, and if you only answered the phone with only a shortened version of your name, then no intruding civilian would be the wiser.
The job was easy, anyway. Paid well for what it was, but perhaps that was simply standard for U.A. Nowhere nearly as well paying or exciting as working as a hero, but you were adjusting into mundanity. Some days had stretches of hours in which you didn’t interact with anyone, sitting at the front desk without a task, and you even had a few days in which you’d gone in, piddled around at the desk for your whole shift without seeing another soul, and gone home.
Your friends were always so busy. The two times you’ve been able to meet with them contained nothing but conversation about hero work, or else everything was somehow tangentially related to it, and you found yourself unable to contribute to the conversation. Both times, you’d left early, a little overstimulated, leaving Shinsou to make your excuses.
And Shinsou, bless him. Not avoiding you on purpose. In fact, you knew he’d drop almost anything for you to hang out, but you knew his schedule and how little rest he got. So, it was more of a self-imposed boundary on your side, taking into account that he needed sleep more than he needed to spend time with you.
So, yes, some of it was directly your fault, but you were achingly, astonishingly lonely, with an ever-lowering threshold for tolerance of outside stimulation, ultimately feeling like you didn’t belong here.)
Pens aligned. Coaster. Check the school email for—good, no emails. No voicemail. Get out your planner and write your hours in it to look busy. Hey, your water bottle’s nearing empty; maybe you could go fill it or even waste time brewing coffee. But where’s your work mug? You probably left it on the cleaning rack next to the office sink. You should go check.
“Hey,” said Aizawa out of nowhere, ignoring how you jumped out of your own skin, “Good morning. Are you doing a specific job at the moment?”
You gripped the arms of your swivel chair to ground yourself. Is this a test? “I was about to take a moment to make some coffee,” you said, because never let someone in a position of authority know that you were doing jackshit, “Is there something I can help you with, Aizawa-sensei?”
Frowning, he dipped his chin into his capture weapon, still tucked closely to his neck to shield him from the wind, and he shifted his weight to one leg, his fingers tapping in a ripple on the reception desk. “You don’t have to call me that anymore.”
“I’m gonna,” you said, “How can I help?”
Please don’t need anything. Please don’t need anythi—
“Permission has just cleared for me to assign you a long-term task.”
Shit, you thought, internally wincing at how he used the term task and not mission, as if you’d be plunged into the ice-cold water of a panic attack at the word. The kid gloves that everyone handled you with somehow both ingratiated and insulted you.
“You’ll be paid for it,” Aizawa continued, “and it’s low stakes interaction, not even face-to-face. It’s all online.” Aizawa clasped his hands on the desk and hunched over the top of it, the ends of his scarf trailing down onto your keyboard. “You’ll recall moving some boxes into room 310.”
“Of course.” Early in your first month back at U.A., you’d helped clean out and move some boxes into 310 in the same hall that housed Aizawa, Eri, and now you—you’d unofficially dubbed it as U.A.’s drawer to shove social rejects. “Is someone about to move in?”
“He’s been moved in for a while,” said Aizawa, pulling his capture weapon away from his neck, “Keep all of this quiet. You’re allowed to know because I’ve advocated for you, because I trust in you and in your ability to do this well.” Aizawa paused, the silence dragging on much longer than usual. His eyes glazed over, as if considering how to phrase his next proposal.
You waved your hand, prompting him to continue.
His eyes focused again. “The new person is a ward of the school, but All Might and I are his primary—caretakers isn’t quite the right term, and nor is supervisors, so perhaps it’s better to—”
“No, I get it,” you said, “This person is an adult, but they’re not quite independent. Go on.”
Aizawa paused, brow furrowed just slightly as he scrutinised you again, but he nodded slowly after a moment. “I’ll allow him to introduce himself to you. He doesn’t need me to set up expectations. What’s important for you to know, regarding your own participation, is that he’s very new to the hero scene and is receiving his hero training later in life than usual. He won’t be attending class but will be trained personally by select U.A. faculty, mostly All Might, Nezu, and me.”
“Is he officially a student?”
“On paper.” Something strange passed across Aizawa’s face, but you couldn’t name it. “Where you come in is his socialisation. He’s spent most of his life in disciplinary isolation. Because of the adults raising him, his instincts trend towards distrust and animosity.”
So, Aizawa wanted you spend time with him until he was no longer bad with people, like spending time with feral cats at animal shelters until they’re ready to be adopted. “So, he’s distrustful. Hostile. Angry,” you said, scratching the side of your head, “Is he—do you think he’ll bring up bad stuff I’ve done to use it against me?”
“He doesn’t know who you are, aside from someone trusted by U.A. with hero experience,” said Aizawa, shaking his head, “and you can choose what information you give him.”
“Does he,” you said, sucking in through your teeth, “Does this guy know about how you’re going about this? I think—wouldn’t he be insulted if he knew about how you’re socialising him like an animal?”
Aizawa looked over his shoulder at the empty office, but he bent farther over the desk and spoke softly, anyway. “Recently, when I was training him at night, he expressed that he never knows what to do when someone wants to talk to him after mission, whether it’s successful or not. He froze entirely when a senior citizen thanked him last week, and that’s when we decided something tactile needed to be done. Since he’s grown used to me, you’re the solution.”
Okay. A volatile man, someone who couldn’t go to U.A. at the average age but for whom Aizawa, Nezu, and All Might were making an exception, even going so far as to personally take him out at night to practise hero work.
Hm. Fishy.
But if the good, good men who took care of you wanted you take care of another misplaced person, then you’re going to do it to the best of your ability.
“I hope I can live up to your expectations,” you said, making a note in your planner, “What am I doing?”
“I need you to learn how to play a video game,” said Aizawa, “and I need you to be absolute shit at it.”
***
For you to help some loser with socialisation, he would be teaching you how to play some janky, twenty-five-year-old MMORPG called Cipherstone—and not even the current, polished version of it; you had to sign up for an account on the version preserving the game exactly as it was in 2007. Nostalgia reasons, apparently.
You nudged Dango out aside to check your bedside clock. The discord call would start in five minutes, and you were making your Cipherstone account, completely unable to come up with a suitable username.
“Don’t connect it to your other online accounts or your actual identity,” Aizawa had said that morning.
Dango’s tiny prance across your stomach was not helping, and you couldn’t use Dango in your username, because if someone knew about your cat (and hopefully no one did, because cats were not allowed in the dorms), then a Dango username could be linked back to the real you. You plopped your head back on your pillow, knocking against the headboard. What’s something that couldn’t be traced back to you? Slumping, you let your head fall to the side and sulked.
The hentai book peeked out from underneath a jacket on your dirty clothes chair.
GinsengTea
That username is unavailable.
Well. You couldn’t use your birthdate as added numbers. You kept typing.
GinsengTea69
That username is unavailable.
You’re not about to try Lustful Ballsack. Maybe if you put aside your secretarial propensity for being correct for a moment.
GinzengTea
Username available!
Oh, thank God. You sorted out your password and started customising your character, though you couldn’t do much with the negative six billion pixels you were dealing with, and oh, is that the noise discord makes for a call? You plugged in your earbuds and clicked the answer button.
“Hello?” you asked into the microphone on your earbud cord, narrowing your eyes at his profile picture of a rotund, cartoon mouse. Username Tenkopeito. Looks like he ran into the same spelling trouble you did.
“Greetings and salutations,” he said, his tinny, rasping, just-got-out-of-bed, gruff-from-lack-of-use voice striking you with about fifty psychic damage, “I am Aizawa-sensei’s pupil, here to teach you about the intricacies of Cipherstone. It will be my pleasure—”
“Cut that shit out,” you said, narrowing your eyes at his profile picture: actually, that mouse was so round because it had just swallowed an enormous piece of konpeito whole, with the little star spikes jutting out underneath its fur. “No one talks like that. You sound fake as fuck.”
“I see,” he said after a beat, tone deflating to sound resigned (and though he’d relaxed, it somehow sounded as if talking this way took more effort, like it physically strained his vocal cords). “Am I not supposed to be nice?”
“You weren’t exactly being nice. You were using a customer service voice—which is being polite, not nice. Not even kind. Politeness is usually some sort of put-on affectation of niceness, forced for the situation. I understand if that’s what you think you need to do when you talk to people as a hero, but in hero work, since the stakes are high, you need to be genuine, or at least sound like you are.” Dango crawled across your stomach again, but you lifted her off before she could settle into a loaf on your keyboard. “In the field, it’s often hard to be kind because of how involved you get as a hero; being kind takes effort and drains you emotionally. Kindness implies there’s some sort of reciprocity, some sort of ongoing relationship. You can choose to be kind if you want, but it may wear on you in the long run. What will probably be healthiest for you, on your side, is if you aim to be nice, meaning being honest in a gentle way, framing situations positively but realistically for listeners. The public doesn’t want to be lied to and told everything’s fine, but telling them the harshness of reality doesn’t go over well. Kills morale.”
“Holy shit.” He was scratching something close to his microphone—it must be a fairly good mic, since you could deduce short fingernails against a dry surface. “That’s…a lot.”
“It is. But you can do it. All it takes is practise, and that’s what I’m here for,” you said, moving Dango from your keyboard again, “And I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with all of that; it just came out—I, uh, I happen to know a lot about the way heroes present themselves.” Swallowing thickly, you ran your tongue over your lower lip. “Why don’t we begin with what you were saying before? But in the actual way you talk, please. You need to be comfortable in your own voice.”
His mic picked up the distant noise of slurping through a straw, against what sounded like the bottom of a metal cup, which clinked when he set it back down. “Have you played Cipherstone before?”
“Total newcomer. Though I’ve seen some screenshots in memes.”
“Cool,” he said in a way that was clear it was not cool, “I can’t add you to my in-game friends list until you get off Tutorial Island. Share your screen with me until then.”
All right. You can be bad at this. You can be so bad at this. “What’s a screen?” Not that bad, idiot! “I mean,” you said, fumbling, “How do I share my screen with you?”
The scratching grew louder. “Bottom left. Screen button. Right click. Share option.”
“Ah.” You should probably lure him into thinking you’re competent while there was a literal tutorial onscreen so that he would be more frustrated with you later. “Gotcha.”
For a few seconds after your avatar popped onscreen for the first time, nothing came through but the 8-bit tutorial music. “Is that what you look like in real life?” he finally asked.
“No,” you said, not exactly lying. The character had her hair down in her face (which you wouldn’t normally do when you were on patrol, since it could get in the way of physical hero work), and, hoping to endear yourself to this weirdo, you’d chosen the sluttiest shirt: while none of the horrible pixelated options showed any boob whatsoever, the poor rendering still managed to convey that the top was off-shoulder. Again, not great for hero work. “In real life, I’ve much, much more panache.”
Another silence, during which you assumed he was looking up the word. “So, you click on the screen to go where you want to walk, on either the overall game interface or in the mini-map in the corner. Your destination will show up—”
“Wait, what should I call you, screwboy?”
“—as a red flag,” he said, frown audible, his rasping voice screeching to a stop the way brakes are slowly applied to the wheels of a train. “Not screwboy.”
“I’m not calling you by your handle. Not only is it cringe, but you won’t have to answer to it anywhere else in your life. If you don’t want to give me your name, that’s fine. I could call you by your hero name, if you like; it’d help you get used to answering to it. But no, I’m not calling you your username,” you said, shoulders slacking once Dango finally settled in a ball at your hip, “Especially since you couldn’t even get the correct spelling of Ten Konpeito.”
“It’s—it’s not supposed to say that,” he said, sputtering with a groan coming in at the end, “It’s a play on my name, and including the n makes it harder to say aloud. I think these things through; I have to be aware of my public image and branding now; that’s the whole point of this stupid—my name is Tenko, you asshole.”
“Oh, you’re gonna call civilians asshole?” You clicked your tongue. “Bad. Bad and evil. Speaking from experience, people don’t like that.”
“Just fu—just click on the map.”
“Fine. But you can’t fool me with your medieval, point-and-click game,” you said, clicking to pick up a fishing net, “Incidentally, the oldest known fishing net is the net of Antrea, crafted of willow and dating back to 8300 B.C.”
Tenko paused. “What would be the socially expected response to that?”
Your avatar fished for shrimps. “Oh, usually people yell at me. Get mad for bringing up total non sequiturs. My friend Bakugou is fond of telling me that I’m a collection of those bottle caps with facts printed on the inside.”
“Would…would you like me to get angry? Am I supposed to? I was under the impression I was supposed to curb my anger. To be nice.”
Your inventory filled with shrimps.
“You only need one shrimp,” said Tenko.
“You’ll thank me when we have food later,” you said, continuing to fish for shrimps.
“It’s the tutorial,” he said, frown creeping into his voice, “You won’t keep any resources from it. You should go chop the tree down to light a fire.”
“Well, hell. I want my shrimps.” You clicked away from the fishing spot and onto a tree. “Nothing’s happening.”
Tenko cleared his throat. “You need to talk to the woodcutting tutor first. She’ll give you an axe.”
“I thought this game had magic,” you said, guiding Dango’s head away from blocking the screen, “Can’t I just get logs with magic?”
“No, it’s—you must want me to get angry. As a test.” Scratching. “Magic comes later. Not for getting logs.”
You interpreted that as a sign to make the rest of the tutorial go smoothly. You followed the instructions for a few silent minutes, proving to him that you could read, and when you reached the end of the tutorial, a wizard teleported you to the crossroads of a town centre.
“Ah,” you said, genuinely surprised as other players’ avatars, decked out in what must be high-level gear, dashed past, “I don’t know where I am.”
“You can turn your screen-sharing off now.” Tenko typed on what sounded like a mechanical keyboard. “I’m over here. I’ve got—by the fountain—white hair, all black clothes. I’m not—there you are.”
Dozens of other players were running past the two of you, the only bare, new players in the area. Tenko’s pixelated avatar waved at you. Cheeky bitch. He’s so poorly animated and so very 2007 that it gave no indication what he could look like in real life. But he’s chosen to have a black t-shirt as his default, so he has to be a slut.
You resisted the urge to ask to feel his pixelated bicep. “You don’t have any equipment. I thought you’ve played Cipherstone before?”
“My main account is max-ed out. I started a new account to grow at the same rate as you. Before anything else, notice where we are,” said Tenko, “We’re in the centre of the city of Renfield. Get familiar with it. Think of it as home. It’s where you’ll always come back to when you get lost.”
It’s a barely animated town centre, with a short path up the stairs to a castle door and a few market stalls split between fountains.
“I have no idea what that means, Tenko.”
“It means that—that,” Tenko said, and stopped.
You couldn’t stop grinning, biting at your lower lip to keep from laughing—he’d let out a flustered huff, sounding a little strangled, because you’d said his name for the first time—and, judging by how long this delicious silence was dragging on, Tenko was probably his given name, not the family name. Beautiful, really, that a guy his age (however old he was, but he’s at least the same as you, since he couldn’t attend U.A. at the usual time) could get this nervous over a woman calling him by his name.
Tenko recovered in a way that showed he didn’t: “It means that you are always able to cast one spell, regardless of magic level,” he said in a rush, “It is a homing spell that teleports you back to this spot, so even if you get lost, you can always get back to Renfield. You can teleport other ways, too, but that’s for another time, and I need a cup of coffee.” He inhaled sharply.
It's only the first day, so you should go easy on him. Let his moment of awkwardness go.
However, Aizawa gave you a mission.
Excuse you, a task.
“Do you plan on getting flustered every time a civilian calls you by name?” you asked, petting between Dango’s ears, “Or are you planning on avoiding as much publicity as possible by being an underground hero like Aizawa?”
“I don’t—they’re not going to—it’s different with you. I can already tell,” said Tenko (you froze, fingers curled into Dango’s fur), “because I’m going to have some sort of working relationship with you. I assume you’re here to stay.”
Putting it that way made your heartbeat throb around your ears. You decided you could ask directly. “Tenko’s your first name, then?”
“Yeah.” He must have covered his hand with his mouth, muffling his voice at first. “But people usually—people have been calling me something else.”
“Then I can call you something else, if you like,” you said, getting back to petting Dango behind her ears and resolving to treat him with the same tenderness—he must need it, since no one in his life knows him well enough to call him by his given name.
“No, I think you should,” he said a bit too quickly, “Call me that. Tenko. I’m tired of that other stuff. Click on something to keep from logging out, by the way. There’s a timer.” Mechanical typing noises. “No, Aizawa-sensei wants me to be better. Of all things, I need to learn to respond to my real name.”
You squinted at your screen, as if the methodical rise and fall of his avatar’s chest could betray how he was feeling. Something had to have happened to this guy to make him feel this way about such a basic part of his identity, to make other people avoid his real name so universally. Aizawa couldn’t’ve have assigned you this task just to socialise him; something else was unfolding here. How did you enter the equation? If you’re supposed to guide someone who’s also lost their direction in life, you’re a hell of a bad candidate.
But what if you fuck up Aizawa’s plan, whatever it was?
Your recent history is riddled with things going downhill. What if you somehow screwed over Tenko? You’d be dragging someone else down with you, down to…the beginning again, a humiliating re-start, back at your fucking school, when the rest of your friends were out living the dream you’d all crafted together, the dream that apparently could go on without you in it.
Well. Enough of that. Distract yourself. Distract Tenko, too. “Got it. I want a hat.”
“What?”
“I want a hat,” you said, clicking the space around the fountain for your avatar to walk, “My head is cold. How do we get a hat? Hats. You should get one, too.”
“Hats. Very well,” said Tenko, clicking to face you across the shitty fountain, “Do you want one that’s purely decorative or one that has some sort of stats? Decorative ones we can get within a minute, with good RNG, by killing goblins across the bridge. There’s a low chance we could get a low-tier wizard’s hat doing that, too.”
“Then it will be a pleasure killing goblins with you, Tenko.”
“Mm,” he said at the back of his throat, “First, we’ll need to obtain some sort of weapons, since bare-handed punching them will take forever. We could either talk to the melee tutor to get a temporary sword or start wi—actually, we should talk to the melee tutor. Melee will probably be the easiest fighting style for you right now, and it’ll be the simplest, since you won’t have to worry about running out of ammunition or runes.”
“Sure,” you said, leaning back in bed, “Do we go starboard or port?”
“You can just call them east and west, y’know. And we go north.”
To be obstinate, you clicked the opposite direction that Tenkopeito was going, and the moment you ran offscreen, Tenko spoke in a low, grumbling voice into his microphone. “No, don’t run away from me. Come back here.”
The rumble in his voice shot warmth straight to your lower stomach, the nature of the encounter between the two of you changing in a second. Your avatar kept running to her destination, your hand frozen and hovering above the tracking pad. You blinked, your throat drying. Snapping back into it, you ran back to Tenko, who seemed unaware of what he just did to you—and he almost negated your arousal in the way he kept talking about sword upgrades and something called RNG.
Uh.
“—now, it’ll take about ten minutes, but it’ll seem like two hours of hard labour. Follow me across the bridge. Follow—there’s a follow mechanic, if you’ll right-click on me.”
Oh, you’ll right-click him, all right. You needed to know more about Tenko—why you’ve been paired off, what Aizawa’s planning for him, what—a tinge of shame soured at the back of your tongue, because what currently gripped you were minutiae: more about him, what he looks like, what he likes, what he does for fun, if you’re…the sort of person he’d get along with in real life, if you hadn’t been forced together.
God, get over yourself. You spend two months away from men your age, and now, you’re thirsting over someone you don’t even know because he said one hot thing. You needed to be socialised—no, stop. This isn’t about you. Stop thinking about what his hands would feel like on you, what he’d sound like grunting into your ear as he ground against you—
“You’ve been quiet for a minute,” said Tenko, slashing the first goblin, “Are you all right?”
A very heroic question when you haven’t been thinking too heroically. The thought of his voice muttering against your neck still grasped you tightly. “I’m having—technical difficulties.”
***
Poking your head outside of your dorm/apartment door, you scanned the hallway for witnesses. You gripped the handle of Dango’s carrier, still hidden behind the door inside your dorm, and you nodded back at her when she meowed at you.
“I know, baby,” you said, listening for footsteps, “We’ll be outside soon enough. Gotta check for people, though.”
Okay, nothing coming. You shifted Dango’s carrier out of your dorm and pulled out your key, sticking it in the lock at the same time as a door opened down the hall.
Too fast—you had to prod her carrier back inside, your foot stuck in the crack between wall and door, just as—as Midoriya strode down the hall. Keys jangling. Civilian clothes (a Froppy hoodie, in fact).
“Oh, hello!” Midoriya only seemed to notice you once you were struggling to close the door despite the carrier being the way, and hopefully you thrust it fully inside swiftly enough for him not to catch the flash of burgundy. He trotted up to you, hands in the pockets of his worn cargo pants. “I didn’t think you’d be around. Do you not have work today?”
Dango meowed mournfully through the door, and you stepped in front of it. “It’s my lunch break. I’m going for a walk.”
Midoriya nodded, and he glanced over his shoulder back to the room he’d left. “Gotcha, gotcha. Good weather for it, especially after that storm earlier this week.” easy smile stretched across his face as he faced you again, but his gaze weighed down on you, as if the number one hero’s attention magnified your failures in comparison to his rise to the top—and the fact that he didn’t mean to pressure you only exacerbated the feeling.
“Uh,” you said, stuffing your keys in your backpack and setting it on the ground, as if you’re not waiting to go back inside, “May I ask what you’re doing here? Don’t you have better—aren’t you busy?”
Chuckling, Midoriya scratched the back of his neck (and oh, in that laughter, he was hiding something). “I make time. I’m just visiting,” he said, jerking his head back towards the end of the hall, “A friend. I want to take care to see him regularly. I didn’t know you lived on the same hall.”
“If you can call it living,” you said, and for some reason, Midoriya frowned, took a step closer to you, and said your name under his breath, eyes fucking wide and too damn concerned for your comfort. Fuck, you only meant to make a self-depredating joke, not make the situation serious.
“You—you know that you can reach out to us. I mean that. If you’re scared you’re gonna burden any of us—”
You’d squatted down to go through your bag, just to have something to do, to have an excuse to not look him in the eyes. If you were going to cry—which you were not!—then the number one hero’s not going to get to witness it.
“—then reach out to me, at least. I’ve got time, or else I can make it.” Midoriya was kneeling next to you, and you kept your eyes on the inside of your backpack. “If it makes you feel less like you’re bothering any of us, I could check in with you when I come see my friend. I’d already be on campus. I wouldn’t be going out of my way.” He sighed to fill the space when you didn’t answer. “What are you looking for?”
“I can’t find my planner,” you invented, and, acting like you were upset, you zipped your backpack again. “I think I need to go back inside to locate it.”
He shifted his jaw, and he glanced down at your bag and back at you. “Come with me to the vending machines, at least?”
The new symbol of peace, asking to spend time with you. You didn’t deserve it, so you shook your head. “I don’t have much time left in my break. I think I’d better let you go.”
Shifting his jaw, Midoriya tilted his head at you, his eyes glinting. “All right,” he said slowly, “You know yourself better than anyone else. Do what you need to. Rest up.” He started walking backwards towards the stairs. “And I want to see you more—we all do. I’ll see you the next time I come around. Maybe the three of us could hang out?”
“Sure,” you said, shoving your key in the lock to let a thrashing Dango out of her misery.
***
“The church. It’s the one with the altar icon in the minimap.”
You clicked enough so that your avatar would backtrack. “How am I supposed to know that’s the church? Is that icon supposed to be an altar? It looks nothing like an altar. It looks more like a steaming cup of tea.”
“That’s fair,” said Tenko into his headset, “but this is the easiest quest in the game. How are you having this much trouble with it?”
“Oh, stop that,” you said, reaching his character in front of the priest, “It’s intuitive to you because you’ve been playing this for years. Do we kill this guy?”
“What? No. He’s going to give us each the key to a dungeon underneath the church.”
“How can he give us both a key if there’s only one?” You clicked through the dialogue with the priest, and a key appeared in your inventory. “Also, how accurate is this dungeon? Because if this is a broadly medieval game, then the dungeons will be closer to underground bathrooms rather than, like, creepy and wet with shackles and bones. That was popularised by Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe.”
“How the hell do you know that,” Tenko asked flatly, “Ne—never mind. It doesn’t matter. Follow me to the trapdoor outside.”
You did, and it was locked. “Are we allowed to do this?” you asked, clicking on the key and then the lock, “Will we get arrested for trespassing?”
“Wha—no. No, we’re supposed to in order to progress the quest. In fact, our characters do a frankly criminal amount of breaking and entering throughout the game and never get checked for it. Hey, don’t go down there without me.”
Your character had only just gone down the trapdoor, prompting a blackout loading screen, but you popped back up to the surface before you could get a good look around. Your character stood next to Tenko’s, still next to the trapdoor. “What’s the holdup? I thought the only step was to use the key on the door. Did I skip something?”
“No, I—huh,” said Tenko, cutting himself off with a tinge of frustration creeping into his voice, “I lost the key.”
Raising a brow, you tilted your head. “What? How’d you lose it?”
“I don’t know. It was in my inventory one minute, and now it’s not. I didn’t touch it.” His mic picked up light scratching. “You’re not supposed to be able to lose the key, but I guess I can go back to the priest to get another. You wait—”
“Hold up,” you said, brow furrowed, “I have it. It’s in my inventory.”
“The hell? Are you sure it’s not just your own key?”
“Positive. I have two of them now. Same key, right next to each other. Want me to share my screen?”
“No, I—I believe you.” Tenko took a moment. “I’m not familiar with this sort of glitch, where an item from one player’s inventory randomly transfers to another’s. This doesn’t even happen, in my experience, but maybe it’s because this is one of the earliest quests coded into the game. It’s twenty-five-year-old code at this point, and it might have glitched because we’re both trying to perform the same quest actions on the same game tick.”
“Sure,” you said, “So, what do I do? Do I drop the key for you to pick up, or?”
“It disappears if you drop it. Trade me. Right-click, trade option.”
Once the key was traded, the two of you went down the trapdoor and wove your way back into the underground headquarters of a low-level cult, vacant for the moment but with evidence of rituals on the walls and floors, particularly in front of their bloodstained altar.
“Okay, we’re in their headquarters,” you said, making your character walk up the aisle, “What now? Priest guy didn’t give us any instructions.”
His avatar followed you and sat on the only programmed-to-be-sittable seat in the pew, his black cape (that he stole from a highwayman’s corpse) folding under his legs. “Actually, he did. You just clicked through his dialogue.”
“Because you’re here to tell me what to do, Quest Man.”
“Click on the—” Tenko heaved an enormous sigh, microphone sparking. “You figure it out. What’s clickable in this room? What has examine text?”
You hovered your mouse over most of the room, and nothing popped up with the examine option, except for something on the altar. “It’s this weird-looking, severed hand, isn’t it? This thing standing up on a slice of wrist by itself?” Your character walked nearer to it, fingers splayed widely enough to hold an in-game apple. “Weirdest ring-holder I’ve ever seen.”
When Tenko didn’t say anything, you glanced towards his character, but he was still sitting on the pew.
“Is this whole quest a pun? Because it’s one of the easiest quests, so they’re giving us a lot of guidance, so it’s like they’re holding our hands to get it through?”
That broke his silence: he scoffed into the mic. “I doubt it,” he said, “You need to grab the hand for the quest to keep going.”
“Fine,” you said, clicking the hand, and the instant your avatar touched it, a zombie spawned from the altar and began to attack you. “Dude! Did you know that thing was gonna jump me?” you asked, clicking away a few spaces but turning around to stab at it with your stupid bronze dagger, “And you just sat there? You could’ve warned me.”
“I did, and the priest did, and the duke who gave us this quest did. That’s why we went and baked all those pies in your inventory, yeah? For you to eat during this fight?”
Your character kept missing hits. “Yeah, but—like! I didn’t know the fight would be now.”
“Hey, relax.” Tenko’s voice sounded muffled, like his mouth was smushed as his fist dug into his cheek. “It’s only a level 12, and you’re level 9. Not too big of a difference. With your armour and weapon, you out-level it.”
The miss sound effect spoke for itself.
“You’ll kill it eventually. You won’t always hit zeroes, so it’ll pass.”
Though your character dealt her first damage, you frowned. “That’s…that’s actually really good advice, Tenko. The stuff you just said would work well if you were trying to calm someone down—reminding people of reality and emphasising perseverance over luck or natural talent are some of the better ways to encourage people.”
“Is that so,” he asked flatly, trying to put off a yawn and failing, “I haven’t—I wasn’t thinking about hero work. Just thinking about the game.”
“Well, it was nice,” you said, “and it seemed like it came naturally. Mind if I ask if something caused it?”
He yawned again, but he must have leant away from the mic so that you wouldn’t hear anything besides the initial inhale. “Nothing special happened today, but I’m too tired to get irritated. Therapy took a lot out of me today.”
Therapy. Therapy. Okay, so he’s got an official diagnosis somewhere. The word today implies that it’s a regular thing, and for some reason, this session was more intense. Intense emotionally? Physically? What kind of therapy? Well, they offered cognitive behavioural therapy on campus, but considering his non-traditional student status, his might be outsourced. Plus, if you, a former hero but technically a civilian, are being implemented into his care plan without being informed directly—
“You usually don’t go this long without saying some inane non sequitur,” said Tenko, that same, strange scratching picking up on the mic, “Snap out of it. You’re gonna get killed by the easiest quest boss in the game.”
Making an undignified noise, you shook yourself and spam-clicked on a cherry pie for your character to eat until she was healed completely, and then you clicked on the zombie to attack again.
“Why’d you pause when I said therapy? Surprised I’d go? Think that sort of thing is below me?”
“Of course not,” you said, trying to seem like you were focused on the fight so that he wouldn’t get nervous about sharing personal information, “Therapy good. Therapy great. Everyone needs to go to therapy.” Since he appeared to be taking this casually, you could probably ask after the type without it seeming too intrusive. “What kind? CBT? That’s what—”
“You think U.A. would arrange for me to get my cock and balls tortured? That wouldn’t qualify as therapy for me, certainly, and there’s no way that U.A. would pay for—”
“Not fucking cock-and-ball torture, you muppet; cognitive behavioural therapy. The sitting-down-with-therapist-to-talk-about-your-trauma-and-restructuring-the-way-you-think-through-practise type. You fuckin’ pervert,” you said, grinning at his avatar onscreen.
“Good to know. I didn’t know the name for it.”
“It’s good that you made this mistake with me instead of with Aizawa-sensei.”
“He’s probably more inclined towards bondage. Congratulations on killing your first boss,” said Tenko, and you blinked in surprise at your character: you’d defeated the zombie while staring at him. It fell to the ground, dropping bones and some sort of arrows.
“Take those. Check to see if they’re iron or steel. All right, equip them in your ammo slot for now so that they don’t take up an inventory space.”
You did so. “Why didn’t it attack me with the arrows if it were holding them?”
“There’s no logic to it besides that arrows are on its drop table. It’s coded to attack by punching you in the face, which doesn’t involve arrows.”
“Sure. Now, let’s get out of the cult basement; I wanna bake more pies until we can make apple ones. Did you know that the first record of fruit pies was around 1600? That means these fruit pies are anachronistic, since this game pitches itself as medieval.”
“Is that…” The hesitance had you beaming, daring him to actually ask it. “Is that not medieval?”
“Tenko, get your head out of your ass. For reference, 1600 is arguably the year the Azuchi-Momoyama period ended and the Edo period began. The game frames itself as medieval European, and 1600 is hard Renaissance-slash-Early-Modern. That’s Shakespeare times, screwboy.”
Only silence on your headphones. Character still on the pew. You made your character walk over to his to perform the curtsy emote, and in real life, you frowned. “Did I go too far there? Bit too annoying? I’m really sorry if I’m bothering you with this sort of thing; my friends say that I—”
“Nothing’s wrong. I needed a moment,” came Tenko’s voice, quiet and steady, “I could hear you smiling, and it was—it was good.”
Inhaling sharply, you pressed a fist to your mouth. Great. Fucking fabulous. Goddammit, you hadn’t aimed for it to go this way, but were you now the one getting flustered at something as simple as—
“Do most people consider a long pause in conversation rude? Did I fuck up with that?”
“No! No, of course not,” you were saying, trying to recover but still startled at how he was able to flip the vibe of your conversations in so few words, words that seemed so casual to him but grabbed you by the throat/cunt, “Especially since you followed-up with a check-in of how it might be strange; a lot of times, people will be comforted by checking to see if something’s okay with them personally…”
Frowning, you trailed off when another avatar entered the cult’s sanctuary and strode up the aisle. You hovered over the new guy’s stupid frog mask to see his username was Venomothman.
“Fucking great,” grumbled Tenko, “Here comes someone else to break our immersion. Ignore him. I’ll go ahead and fight the zombie so that we can get out of here.”
“The zombie’s dead. You don’t have to fight him,” you said, as Venomothman sat directly on top of Tenkopeito, with both avatars glitching as they took up the same space on the pew.
Tenko made some sort of noise in the back of his throat. “No, I have to kill it, too. It’s like each of us is the only one doing the quest, so in your version, the evil has been defeated, but in my version—it’s this thing called an instance—”
Venomothman: wow a couple questing together
Venomothman: bet ur one guy on two accounts
Venomothman: roleplaying that he can get a gf
The new guy’s in-text chat appeared in yellow font above his avatar’s frog-faced head, and somehow, the boggly, green eyes made his words more irritating.
Venomothman: leave the basement sometimes ya incel
“Some people are assholes recreationally,” said Tenko, making his avatar stand to go to the altar as the clatter of mechanical typing came through the mic, “Let me get rid of this fucking scumba—wait.”
Venomothman: ur doing too much work to stare at pixelated ass
“Would it be correct for a hero to insult someone online?”
You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. “Eh. You’re not on duty, and you’re not under any persona connected with your public branding. I would say go for it, but since you’re trying to be better with people, you may want to practise.”
Venomothman: somehow this is even more pathetic than never knowing the touch of a woman at all
“Then I’ll shut him down. The shit-talking isn’t bothering me so much as his breaking our immersion in the game,” said Tenko, grabbing the hand on the altar to start his instance of the fight, “I’m trying to cultivate a particular experience for you, and he’s a fucker who won’t stop yapping. Give me a second.”
Venomothman: is this what does it for you??
Venomothman: why no response
Venomothman: hard to type with one hand, isn’t it, ******* shithead
You laughed through your nose. “Cipherstone censors the word fuck?”
“It censors fuck; it censors cunt,” said Tenko, avatar casting a weak air spell at the zombie, slowly, slowly draining its health, “Everything else is fair game.”
“Will it censor variations of cunt? Like, if I typed in cuntbag? Or—actually, let’s find that out later,” you said, tapping the buttons on your earbud cord to turn up the volume, “Let’s practise navigating difficult social interactions. What’s our goal here in this conversation? Is it to continue to engage?”
“No.” His spell missed, and the zombie landed a hit on his character, prompting him to eat half of a pie. “It’s to close the interaction. Therefore, I need to say something concise that invites no response, right? I’m assuming that a simple fuck off is unacceptable.”
“You’re getting better at this, y’know?”
“Is that condescension I detect?”
“Only a little.” You slumped back against your headboard and reached for the bottle of water on your bedside table. “Actually—no. No condescension. Genuinely, Tenko, you’re picking up on this stuff easily, and it’s impressive. You’ll be able to walk little old ladies across the street with style and flair in no time.”
“Hilarious,” he said, voice restrained and tight at the mention of his name (too easy—he gives himself away aurally so freely; who knows what you could read off of him when you had a visual?), “I’m sure no one wants me touching them. Can I—hm.” He sounded like he was pressing his fist against his face somehow. “Why you keep bothering to compliment me? Most people bitch down to me like I’ve spat my own cum in their coffee.”
“Wha—how about because you deserve to be complimented? Listen,” you said, electing to brush over his vivid simile, “Silent admiration rots. By keeping in appreciation or gratitude, you’re not doing anyone any good. Kind regards are meant to be shared. Like, now, if I held back any positive thoughts concerning your growth, then you might not feel encouraged to keep going.”
“Like I’m gonna go around fucking complimenting ev—”
“I’m not saying you have to,” you said, “but consider trying it more often. See if anything turns out better. And be sure to be sincere about it—obviously.”
“This is bullshit.”
“Just consider it. So. What has he told us about himself based on how he’s insulted you?”
“He’s so low-level that it looks like he just created his account. His stats are even lower than ours,” said Tenko, speaking more quickly now that it was a subject he was more comfortable with, unequipping his wand to punch the zombie instead, “But he’s gone out of his way to get the frog mask.”
“His words, Tenko,” you said, unscrewing the cap and doing your fucking darndest to pinch your mouth from smiling at his slight hitch when you said his name, “I’m trying to get you to notice on whom he looks down and what that means for his personal social status.”
“Right,” he said a bit too quickly, a bit of a break in his voice on the word, “He’s debasing me for—oh, you’re brilliant. How the hell do you notice these things? He’s using basement dweller as insult, meaning he considers himself above that. Leave it to me.”
You muted yourself briefly to glug down water; you didn’t know how sensitive the mic was on your earbuds, but considering that you could catch onto Tenko’s occasional rustling of what sounded like plastic bags on his side or typing on his mechanical keyboard, as he was right now, you would prefer not to be emitting the same.
Tenkopeito: Your mom wishes you would come out of your room to talk with the rest of the family more often
You spluttered into your water bottle as the yellow text appeared above his head, and you unmuted yourself. “That is not what I meant for you to—”
“Was I being mean?” The mic caught the creak of Tenko’s chair as he leant back in it, and you could picture him defensive and pouting as he crossed his arms (and it struck you that you couldn’t imagine his face. Grimacing, you bit the inside of your cheek). “I wasn’t being rude. I could be so much crueller, but I thought this would be more of a devastating blow. Living on the same floor as your family isn’t the same as living in the basement, so I’m acknowledging his level of social power while still demeaning—”
Venomothman: i mean you right
Venomothman: lmao how tf did you know it was me
“I think we should log out,” you said, wiping the water off of your chin with the back of your hand and setting the bottle back on the bedside table.
Over Tenko’s microphone, you heard the shrill pitch of a custom ringtone and a startled but violent shuffle at the noise. “Hold on. I’m getting a call,” he said, voice coming through at a distance, as if he’d knocked his mic aside.
“Oh? Who is it?”
It took him a minute, but Tenko eventually replied, “A friend.”
That must be a damn good microphone, because you could still pick up on Tenko’s side of the conversation a few feet away. “Yes, hello?” he asked, a bit more brusquely than you’d heard him before.
“Oh. I didn’t,” he was saying, “How was I supposed to know that you’d—yes, that’s her. The one working with Aizawa-sensei.”
Very nice, you were thinking, as you unlocked your own phone to check your messages. Very good for him to have friends. Not that you would’ve pegged him as the absolute loner type, because he proved to be adaptable and quick on his feet, but since Aizawa’d recruited you for interpersonal help, you’d considered that he may not have friends. So, good on him for having at least one friend, it seemed, who cared enough to create an account on some stupid video game solely to annoy him.
“—cool of you to make an account to hang out with me. Stop fucking laughing; I am trying to be kind to you, shitstain. Okay. I don’t know. I haven’t been in contact with him in the past two days. I’ve been busy. Let me check.” Tenko leant back towards the mic to address you. “Do we have a schedule for the rest of the week? For instance, are we doing this again on Thursday?”
“I thought we were,” you said, scanning your room for your planner so that you could check your calendar, “Did something come up?”
“It’s not imperative that I go,” Tenko was saying into your ear, while you picked up your laptop to walk over to your U.A.-issued desk, “but another friend who’s been out of town will finally be back then. We might hang out.”
“Psh, go with your friends,” you said, delighted that he had more than one (fighting envy that it was so easy for them to meet up), “We can do this another time.”
“Understood,” Tenko said and backed away from the mic.
Venomothman: so have you sucked his dick yet
Tenko’s incensed shout of “Touya!” had you turning down the volume.
Venomothman: not to be the world’s worst wingman, but my dude is packing. and goes commando all the time.
Venomothman: and i would know. “i” sometimes “did” our “laundry”
You: what’s with all those quotation marks
Venomothman: and do you know the last time it was sucked? never
(Fucking hell. This Touya was walking you back into forbidden territory: the sexualisation of Tenko. After that first session, when you’d been turned on by his confident, rumbling voice as he’d given you an order, you’d felt guilty for sexualising him for the rest of the night. It was as if instead of friend-zoning him, you’d sex-zoned him, only able to see him as a sexual person/object. For the sake of your mission task, that felt unfair.
Or maybe you weren’t even sexualising him. Maybe your brain was appropriately interpreting what he’d done as sexual.
Whatever. Something in your gut was begging you not to see Tenko only through romantic or sexual lenses right now, and you couldn’t explain why.
And talking about Tenko’s apparently massive dick was not helping.)
Tenkopeito: Touya if you don’t ******* shut up I am going to tear off your other arm
Venomothman: no need, boss man
You heard Tenko sigh and say into his phone, sounding exhausted, “I’m not your boss anymore, Touya.”
Venomothman: no need, douchebag
***
Draped over the side of your bed, you dangled a shoelace in front of the gap in an attempt to coax Dango out from underneath. “Dango, sweetie,” you said, whipping the shoelace to the side, “Come out here so that I can look you in the eyes. Where is my planner, you whore?”
At a firm knock on your door, you shot up, dropping the lace. “Never mind,” you said, sliding off the bed, “Stay hidden.”
You opened your door on Aizawa, bare arm raised in mid-knock, wisps of hair plastered to his forehead by dried sweat, and a sweatshirt tied around his waist. He took two seconds to look over you before saying, “Get dressed. Civilian clothes. You have three minutes.”
Throwing on yesterday’s outfit, you rushed to follow Aizawa out of the dorm and off campus, nearly stepping on his heels while he wove through night pedestrians, pulling on his own sweatshirt to minimise skin contact once the crowd thickened.
You flipped up your coat collar to sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Is this a test?”
Aizawa combed his fingers back through his hair, gaze straight ahead. “Not for you.”
“Right.” You stepped more lightly, naturally falling back into patrol patterns: noting exits (narrow alleyways favouring the left side, underground into the subway station), checking vantage points (upper-storey windows in the resident buildings, non-industrial rooftops), honing in on light sources (yellow- and LED-tinted streetlamps, ambience from open businesses) and physical presence (close enough to brush shoulders with passerby [putting you on edge, because the slightest touch could be pivotal]). You had to consciously unclench your jaw, body flooded with stress it hadn’t felt in months. Swiping at the inner corner of your eye, you asked, “Does it have anything to do with the guy in the black hoodie and face mask following us?”
Aizawa laughed through his nose, once. “All right, then. What’s that ice cream place you and Shinsou went to all the time? Take us there.”
Bewildered, you changed directions to head towards Nekozawa’s, with Aizawa placing a hand on your shoulder to slow your pace, and by the time you pushed open Nekozawa’s glass door to the glowing, pink parlour, you were prepared to hold it open for your follower in the face mask. You watched his broad back as he ordered some ungodly, radioactive-blue ice cream with gummy bears before retreating to a table outside despite the dropping temperature, and Aizawa gestured you forward so that he could pay for the three of you.
Holding your ice cream, you hesitated at the door, swaying underneath the seasonal cat decorations dangling from the ceiling.
“Go on,” said Aizawa, retrieving the U.A. card from his wallet, “I’ve got to make a phone call, so don’t wait up. Don’t be too harsh on him; we’re here because he did a good job in the field today. Tailing you was extra practise.”
Nodding, you nudged open the door, bracing yourself at the cold, night air, and let it drift shut behind you as you approached the table, the farthest one from the pink lights.
Hood pulled up, Tenko bent over his blue monstrosity, face mask hanging by a loop over his left ear. Scuffing your boots on the concrete to announce your presence, you sat across from him, setting your cup on the cast iron before swinging your leg over the bench. You managed a cursory glance over what appeared to be a sketchbook before he closed it, and once he’d stowed it away, he swopped his spoon to his dominant hand to keep eating.
“You draw, Tenko?” To make him feel more comfortable, you kept your gaze towards Aizawa inside on the phone. “Do you think you’re any good?”
“Not yet. But I’m gonna be,” he said, clicking his pen and clenching it in his left hand, “I’ve got all these fucking artist’s gloves, so I might as well put ‘em to use.”
“Very nice,” you said, nodding, closing your eyes as you dipped your spoon into your ice cream, “But as a reminder, you don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it. I love doing stuff I’m absolute shit at. It reminds me of medieval bestiaries. They didn’t know shit about animals, but, boy howdy, did they have fun illustrating them. Did you know a weasel used to be called a polecat?”
Tenko huffed, his face mask fluttering. “It really is you.”
“Of course it is,” you said, beaming, and for the first time, you looked at him.
Tension flooded your teacup of a body and overflowed into the saucer and onto the floor. Heightened by the cold, a vein on the back of your hand strained and pulsed visibly, and, jaw locking, you lunged over the tabletop to grab him by the shoulders, shaking him.
“What the hell is wrong with you‽” You climbed over the table, pushed his ice cream out of the way (he shot out a hand to save it from toppling off the table, and he ripped off his face mask to set it aside before it fell to the ground), and planted your foot on his thigh and your elbows on his chest, caging him in as you forced him flat on the bench. “Why the fuck are you using your real name in your fucking Cipherstone username, you fucking moron‽ People could fucking track you!”
The man who had been Shigaraki Tomura eyed your fists in his hoodie and then his cup of ice cream. “You didn’t have a problem with it before.”
“I—” This idiot! “I didn’t know it was you. There are a lot of Tenkos.”
“Then there’s my logic,” he said, hands dangling by his sides, making no attempt to touch you—you didn’t know if you appreciated it or not. “I thought you knew who I was.”
“No, I fucking—I would have given you advice that was more specific to you, over the spiel I was giving interns.” Releasing your grip on his hoodie, you sat back up and scooted over on the tabletop. Though you wanted to keep holding him, to hug him after all he’s been through, he probably wouldn’t want that. “I’m—sorry about tackling you. I, uh—fuck,” you said, and, grimacing, you slid his ice cream back to him and reached across for your own, pretending with everything you’ve got that it was perfectly normal that you were sitting on a table next to Shigaraki Tomura, who’s been teaching you to play a video game, who’s apparently living at the end of the hall, who’s decorated his door with Eri’s silver tinsel for Christmas, who’s banned from drinking caffeine, who could rest his fucking head on your thigh if he wanted. Normal. Yeah.
“Again, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to keep doing that,” he said, fishing out a gummy bear like you hadn’t lunged at him, “Your reaction was reasonable.”
“It—it wasn’t, really,” you said, laughing nervously, “I wasn’t expecting you. I mean, no one knows what—what happened to you. Afterwards. It was really unclear.”
“It was that way on purpose,” said Tenko, “It was thought to be better to emphasise the total destruction of All for One instead of whatever happened to his leftovers.” He shifted a bear to his back molars to bite into the frozen gummy better. “Nezu-sensei decided it was better to keep it muddled for now.”
Muddled was a good way to put it. There’d been so much chaos at the end of the war that so much never was accounted for. You’d think that the location of Shigaraki’s body would be high on the list, but satisfaction was found simply in the splintered, spectacular remains of AFO. Shigaraki’s name wasn’t cleared, per se, but in the aftermath, Midoriya especially stressed that yes, Shigaraki committed atrocities, but he’d been abused, groomed, and literally bodily possessed by AFO to think that way. Didn’t excuse him, but wasn’t entirely his fault.
The locations of the other PLF members—well, the core of the League, really—were public, if not vague. Spinner was in the States at a rehab that specialised in heteromorph trauma; Toga was at a local women’s facility called Sakura Grove, and Dabi was living with his family—he must have been that Touya on the phone, holy shit.
So, here he was, sitting on the bench at the same ice cream parlour you visited with the same friends who fought him, hunched over in oversized, black clothes you suspected were Aizawa’s, broad shoulders and faded scars out of place in the pink lights, white hair pulled back in a blunt ponytail with his bangs flopping over his forehead, seemingly unbothered by the toe of your boot pressing against his denim-covered thigh.
God. He’s scratched at his neck so much that it looks like he’s been beheaded with a blunt axe.
Tenko’s eyes flickered up to you, their colour deepening to crimson in the tinted lights. “So. You’ve got questions.”
“Are you okay?”
Tenko swallowed with effort, scowling. “Don’t start with a hard one.”
“Right,” you said, throat drying, “Who knows you’re staying at U.A.?”
“Faculty and staff. My therapist. The police force. The ramen shop Aizawa-sensei and I go to. The intensive rehab I was at before. The top of the hero commission. Touya, Touya’s father, Spinner, Toga. Eri and Midoriya,” he said, tongue swiping over his lower lip, “You.”
Somehow both fewer and more than you’d figured. “What exactly…is the situation? Aizawa-sensei was vague.”
“Officially, I’m like Eri: a ward of U.A. My old rehab thought I was good enough to live off their campus, so I’m back here, where I can be watched by people capable enough to bring me down if I go crazy again,” he said, brow furrowed as he traced the side of his cup with his spoon, “I should resent that, but it’s not like I have anywhere else to go, especially somewhere as comfortable as this. This is fucking stupid to say aloud, but fucking—fuckin’ All Might is the closest thing I have to family now, along with Midoriya.”
“I’m not following.”
“My grandma was the holder of One for All before All Might had it.” He pointed at you with his spoon. “So you can make the connection from there. But it’s stupid; I’m stupid—” He was shaking his head and staring into his lap. “—because it’s like I have a brother in Midoriya and a goddamn father in All Might—and then Aizawa-sensei’s acting like a dad, too, to me and Eri, and Nezu-sensei? Nezu-sensei is so fucking cool,” said Tenko, dragging his hand down his face, “He’s got a driver’s license! I don’t even have one of those. And he can type fucking 210 words per minute with those little rat paws, and I’m still getting used to using all five fingers, fuck.”
Cute. You scraped the bottom of your cup. “Hey, I think you type well.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why it takes me so long to reply in the in-game chat function. Why I prefer communicating over voice call. Learning new habits, and shit.” Tenko stabbed his ice cream with his spoon. “Nezu-sensei has arranged for me to train as an aftermath-clean-up hero. I had been—” His fingers on one hand circled the thumb of the other. “—in discussion with him in rehab about what I could do, and we decided I could consistently help when there’s collapsed buildings after attacks; I could dust the wreckage so that we could find hostages or make it easier to clean up and rebuild, and Aizawa-sensei and All Might-sensei have been working with me to control what parts of what I touch gets dusted so that I could create pitfall traps for holding criminals. It’s…going. It’s going,” he said, curling his lips in his mouth to moisten them, and with narrowed, determined eyes, he took another bite of ice cream, the blue staining the inside of his lips.
“Tenko, that’s a really cool application of your quirk. I hope you can find more,” you said, tilting your head and smiling down at him, “but—I have to ask—aren’t you tired?”
Tenko rolled his eyes. “Of course. You’re part of the group ensuring I don’t have caffeine.”
“No, I mean,” you said, shaking your head, “I mean, you don’t have to be perceived as useful. You’re—you’re just fine if you wanted to rest. You’re worthwhile just as you, not as—as a job, as a, I don’t know, a redeemed hero or anything. You can just be Tenko.”
“I know. My therapist keeps reminding me. But one of the most vivid memories I have from when I was living in that house,” said Tenko, sneering, “is that I desperately wanted to be a hero and that I would pretend to be one a lot. While I’m aware that I can never atone for what I’ve done, if I did nothing but rest, I’d be alone with my thoughts. And with what I’m learning to do, as a hero, someday, someone might…need me. Need my help. I imagine that’s a good feeling.”
You sat back, leaning on your hands, the cast-iron pattern cutting into your palms, to survey him. “You’re very much re-writing my first impressions of you as my gaming buddy and as the post-war Shigaraki. You’re surprisingly well-adjusted.”
He snorted. “I shouldn’t think it’s surprising. I’ve had almost a year and a half in intensive rehab, and I’m still in therapy every day.” He started listing on his fingers, starting with his thumb. “I’m on antidepressants; I know where my next meal’s coming from and when I’ll get it; I consistently have a safe roof over my head, and I know my friends are getting that, too. I have mentors who care for me as a human person instead of as a tool. I get to stay in contact with my friends and get to make new ones,” he said, nodding curtly at you before quickly looking away, “I’m fucking away from that sadistic fuckface. He’s goddamn dead and burned away to nothing. That’s the main thing. Everything else is a bonus.”
Tenko sighed, bangs fluttering with the movement, his shoulders straining as he leaned onto both his elbows on the table. He sighed again and scooped the last gummy bear out of his cup, and you let the silence carry on while you finished eating.
“Long phone call,” Tenko said eventually.
An increasingly grumpy Aizawa was leaning against the glittery wall inside, phone between his ear and shoulder, and furiously scraping the inside of his ice cream cup.
“Yeah,” you said, “but it’s been good talking to you, Tenko. I really appreciate you telling me all of this.”
“I would’ve talked about it sooner, but I figured you knew who I was and didn’t want to address it,” said Tenko, tapping his fingers one by one on the table.
Pulling the collar of your coat closer to your neck, you frowned, hesitating on how to phrase it. You watched your breath cloud in the night air before settling on, “There’s an off-switch?”
Brow pinching very slightly, Tenko followed your gaze to his hand, with all five fingers coming to rest on the cast iron, and he tapped all five of them on it for emphasis. “Yeah. There always has been. All for One kept it from me. Power of belief kept me jittery and alert my whole life.”
“So long as you thought you’d destroy anything you touched, you would?”
He nodded. “That bitch.”
“Agreed. We should kill him.”
And Tenko laughed. Just for a moment, barely making any noise, but he smiled with his teeth, grin stretching across his face as he looked away and eventually closing his lips, the smile lingering for a few more precious seconds.
***
You closed your laptop to answer the phone at work, clearing your throat to ready your receptionist voice before you picked up. “U.A. University Administration; how may I help you?”
“I need you to fucking murder me,” Tenko spat through the phone, angry and panicked, “I need you to rip out my bones and suck out my guts through a straw. He fucking let me hold onto them, and I’ve fucking gone and lost such a fucking iconic piece of—”
“Tenko, please, take a breath,” you said, relaxing your customer service mode but clutching the phone to your ear, and after catching the eye of the woman with jars of strawberry preserves waiting to see Nezu, you slumped over in your seat so that she couldn’t see you over the desk’s overhang. “Tell me what’s wrong. We can fix it. Are you alone? Is everyone else busy? Do you need to come sit with me?”
“I—fuck,” he said, and you heard some deliberately slow breathing, but his voice still had an irate, twitchy edge afterwards. “During our practise patrol last night, Aizawa-sensei was talking about support equipment for me. I’d never given it much thought, because it’s always been just me and my hands. He leant me his Eraser Goggles for me to think about for my—and I don’t know where they fucking are,” he said, inhaling sharply on the last word, “I’d left them on my desk, but I’d taken them up to the roof to sketch them, and then I’d brought them back to my dorm—”
“And Aizawa-sensei must have swung by to pick them up since then,” you said, pushing yourself back to slide in your swivel chair to the back of the reception desk, “because he was here at the beginning of my shift to print something off, and the goggles are on top of the printer. Relax, Tenko.”
“Hooooooly fuck, you’re kidding,” said Tenko, audibly deflating, and you smiled to yourself as you slid their band around your wrist.
You kicked yourself back up to the front. “You’re okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble. I’ll bring them by at the end of my shift.” You sat up straight, and the strawberry preserves woman was shooting a concerned look in your direction. “I’m at work, though, so I think we’d better end the call soon. Anything else you need?”
Tenko hummed into the phone. “Not really. You can’t be that busy.”
You smiled again, feeling—feeling domestic, as if he were your boyfriend calling you during work hours. How strange, Shigaraki Tomura. How interesting. “Would you believe I was grinding in Cipherstone when you called?”
“And you don’t call yourself a gamer,” he said, clearing his throat multiple times, “What skills?”
“Woodcutting and firemaking,” you said, opening your laptop again, “Are you feeling under the weather? Your voice had a bit of a rasp there.” Sounded like his old voice for a moment.
“Further cementing that Aizawa-sensei’s right to be worried about you. He says your brain’s going haywire analysing any detail work you can get, because you’re not out in the field anymore,” said Tenko, clearing his throat again (?), “Am I your new project?”
“Tell me what’s wrong, lest I pick up some damn throat lozenges for you before I come home,” you said, and a voice in the back of your head screamed that that threat was extremely cosy and intimate, especially since you’re claiming both of you have a home in the same place—which, sure, you both lived on the same hallway, but so did Aizawa and Eri, and please shut up; Shimura Tenko needs a friend, not a lover right now. Besides, that stupid hallway wasn’t really home for either of you but was more like a temporary holding cell.
“Fine. I’ve been throwing up all morning.”
“Thank you,” you said, electing not to make a pregnancy joke, “Do you need to see Recovery Girl?”
“No, I’m used to it, and I’ve already talked to her about it. I threw up a lot out of anxiety and stress when I was growing up with All for One, and now I’m throwing up because my body can’t handle the amount of food it’s getting regularly, which is fucking ridiculous, since it’s still less than a normal person’s version of three meals a day.”
What. The fuck. How can he casually drop details of deep trauma like it’s nothing? How could AFO let a child keep vomiting out of stress for years and years and never interfere? Well. Yeah, he could. You supposed that Shigaraki’s voice, as you first heard it as the USJ incident, was the ultimate result of that heavy strain on his throat for years. Explains some things about his teeth back then, too.
God. If AFO weren’t dead, you’d strangle him. Keeping a child physically weak because he’d be easier to mould. It was known that AFO had been psychologically manipulating Shigaraki, but now that you thought about it, manipulating his physical growth would have served AFO, too, since he was planning to move into Shigaraki’s body.
And what did this guy do now that he’s got bodily autonomy? Oh. Just. Play some video games. Talk with his friends. Try out some new hobbies. Make crafts with Eri.
It’s a shame AFO didn’t have a grave, because you’d be skiving off work to drown it in acid.
“My stomach is killing me,” said Tenko, “I’ve got to hang up to drink something and go to sleep. Knock on my door when you get home. I want to start a new quest as soon as you finish work.”
Home. He’d said it, too. He probably didn’t mean it in the same, domestic way that you’d been entertaining, but it made your heart swell. “Okay, Tenko. See you then.”
***
His therapist had assigned him homework: go on a planned, public outing with a peer, and stay out for at least an hour.
It wasn’t exactly a picnic you were packing, you kept telling yourself, scooting behind Tenko to get to the spice cabinet in the dorm kitchen, because that’d be too close to a date rather than homework. But the two of you packed a meal to take, with Eri sitting on the kitchen counter while she nibbled at rabbit-cut apple slices, and she held the thermos of decaf tea in her lap until it was time to stow it away.
After a short train ride and a quiet walk through midtown, Tenko stopped you in front of the back gate to what appeared to be a restored, historical estate, judging by the golden shachihoko shibi on each corner of polished hip-and-gable rooftops of the extensively aristocratic—mansion? palace?—that you could make out in across the distance of its sprawling grounds, the immediacy of which was the excessively well-kept, traditional garden that you and Tenko were breaking into.
“Is this legal?” you asked as Tenko reached through the grate to unlatch the doorway.
“I have an in with the gardener,” he said, sweeping the gate open for you and gesturing brusquely for you to enter.
“No, that wasn’t a joke,” you said, taking the few steps inside, finding yourself planted onto a polished, level stepping stone, and staring down a squeaky clean tsukubai despite the thin layer of frost over the water’s surface as the whole bowl began to freeze, “You can’t be doing anything even vaguely illegal, Tenko.”
When you said his name, he closed his eyes, pausing for just a hair in his relatching the gate, before facing you and shifting the strap of his bag farther up his shoulder. “Prude. Yes, we have permission from the owner.”
He kept looking back over his shoulder at you as he led you through the gardens, hopping across stepping stones to pass over a carefully shaped brook that led to a tiny waterfall near stone lanterns, weaving through trellises with the wintry shells of wisteria vines and shaped evergreens. He tutted and rolled his eyes when you stopped at the waterlily-coated koi pond, its fish swimming and flicking their tails in the artificially heated water (for some, odd reason, what appeared to be a compact duck coop had been constructed near the pond’s edge, its wood new and un-bleached by the sun like the rest of garden décor). You’d been about to ask about it when Tenko had jumped out of his skin at the sound of a deer scare, bamboo tapping stone.
“Stop laughing,” Tenko said, cheeks burning (and you tried not to take too much pleasure in that, but you couldn’t help it).
“Oh, a sensitive boy, a delicate boy,” you said, grinning as you hopped onto the same stone as him, cool, clouding breaths mixing together in the proximity, and you yourself could feel heat rise to your face. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Good traits to have, actually. Means you’re feeling secure and comfortable in your surroundings, if you’re off-set that easily.” Feeling bold—it was the cold; it was how the proximity already flustered him; it was how his hands were full because of the bag; it was—whatever—you reached for his silly All Might scarf and re-tied the front, fluffing it up to cover more of his neck.
You made the mistake of making eye contact: full of caution, his eyes kept darting from your hands to your face, searching for something, his lips parted, otherwise completely fucking frozen.
Were you making him uncomfortable? You stilled, your fingers still in the fringe of his scarf, tension tightening in your chest and jaw (clenching).
Tenko noticed. And—and to this day, you can’t believe he fucking did this—he ran his tongue over his lower lip and lifted his chin, exposing more of his neck to you. He then was suddenly very interested in the koi pond, the ruddiness spreading from his cheeks to his ears.
Throat dry, you gave his scarf a final tug and patted it (?) to show (??) a job well done (???). “Yeah,” you said, smoothly, like a smooth person, like someone who adjusts scarves of hot, in-process-of-reformation villains on the regular, “Where are we going?”
Tenko spun on his heel and strode away, muttering what sounded like, “Right into my grave.”
You pretended not to hear it and let him lead you to the only building unattached to the main house: a small, traditional teahouse that had a recent addition to it in the back. The creak of the bamboo engawa when you climbed onto it was muffled underneath the bright pealing of windchimes strung across the covered porch. Tenko was already kneeling at the tearoom’s sunken fireplace inside, its handle carved into a fish, fiery as its kindling, and was unpacking the travel teacups from the bag as you closed the door behind you, shutting out the cold, enveloped by the comfortable heat trapped inside by the cushioned walls.
Tenko must have arranged for this space to have been prepared for you. A kotatsu with floor cushions was tucked near the fireplace, pre-heated, with two further space heaters in the unoccupied corners, cords trailing into what must be a hallway linking the traditional and modern rooms, the latter of which was shut off from view. Beside a red-tinted wooden dresser stood an oddly empty tokonoma, and instead of a scroll or painting, amidst bits of pieces of scotch tape hastily half-torn off the back was a shittily cut-out, paper heart.
Shaking your head, you took a step towards Tenko, and the floor chirped at you, freezing you in place.
“Yeah, I don’t know why they do that,” said Tenko, pushing on his knees to stand, “They just do.”
“These must be nightingale floors,” you said, crossing to the kotatsu, a bird under each step, “The chirping’s caused by the way the nails rub against the v-shaped clamps holding the floor together. Have you been to Nijō Castle in Kyoto? These are in the hallway—supposedly used as a security measure, but who knows.”
“You need a hobby.” Tenko ripped the paper heart from the back of the tokonoma, crumpling it in his fist. A shred of it remained under the scrap of tape on the wall, which he bent towards to scrape off with a blunt fingernail.
“I have several,” you said, easing down onto a cushion and unfolding your legs underneath the kotatsu blanket, the luxurious heat swaddling your legs and hips. You fought the urge to curl up underneath it entirely.
“How many of them involve getting your ass thrashed by me in Cipherstone?” Tenko retrieved the bag from the sunken fireplace before returning to the kotatsu, and he sat on your left, resting the bag between the two of you.
You took the thermos of decaf tea when he handed it to you. “Tenko, you’ve been playing that game for years, and I just began. Of course my ass is gonna be thrashed by—you know how the game works. You have all of this previous information about the game that I don’t have.”
Tenko scoffed and slid your teacup across the kotatsu’s surface. “As if I could conceal any information from you. You’re too…eh.” He waved it off, shaking his head.
“I’m too what?” You unscrewed the thermos lid, and steam surged upwards, rising to caress the planes of your face.
“It’s been unfair of Aizawa-sensei to make me tail you,” said Tenko, leaning your way, all five fingers curled around his own teacup as he stretched across the tabletop. “I’d have a chance of success if it were anyone else.”
“I’ll give you that,” you said, pouring steaming, amber tea with slices of yuzu into Tenko’s cup, “You’re getting quite good at it, not that you were bad in the first place. But yeah, it’s a bit mean of him to test your tracking skills on me.” He’d never said to stop, so you poured until liquid almost overflowed at the rim.
He gasped at the heat but nudged his teacup back to his place at the table, unable to hold it in his palm anymore. “I think I would’ve preferred working with Hound Dog-sensei for that. He’s less detail-oriented. I could win, if it weren’t you.” Jutting out his lower lip, Tenko glared down at his tea for a moment before slumping in his seat to slurp at the tea without picking it up.
“Don’t feel bad about it. It was literally and actually my focus for hero work, profiling and detail shit and being aware of my surroundings. Information stuff. Infiltration stuff.” Setting the thermos on the far corner, you cupped your hands loosely around your teacup, appreciating the warmth and getting cosier by the minute.
Tenko was rooting through the bag for the other thermoses, full of sukiyaki for each of you. “It’s clear you’ve worked hard to hone your skills. Were you this talented as a student?”
You accepted the new thermos, fingers clenching tightly around it. “Uh. I think I may have been better back then. More focused. More passionate, anyway. I had to think about it really hard back then, make conscious decisions to notice things, and now I think I do it instinctively. I think I’m slipping because of that.”
“Hm,” said Tenko, tongue rubbing over his teeth behind closed lips, and he opened his mouth to say something but shut it, instead twisting off the cap to his soup thermos. He took the first sip of sukiyaki broth and—and was absolutely beautiful (you couldn’t make sense of it beyond that; he was a mess of details that you couldn’t fit together into a larger picture that made any sense: white eyelashes light against his cheeks as they fluttered shut, face muscles relaxed, scars overlapping with laugh lines, cracked lips becoming moistened by the soup, both hands cupped around his thermos like a child, no strain to his posture, baggy hoodie swallowing him up, kotatsu blanket yanked up to his hips to cover his crossed legs, scar on the corner of his mouth delicately shifting with his baffled smirk when he caught you staring, a strange pink rising to the tips of his ears). “What?”
Uh. Hm. You pinched the bridge of your nose and then moved to rub your eyelids. “What were you going to say about me?” you asked, and you withdrew your hand from your face to raise the soup thermos to your lips, taking a mouthful of noodles and the sweet, salty broth.
Tenko shook his head. “I’m trying to avoid thoughts that fall back into my old habits.”
“Try me,” you said, holding his gaze when he met it, “I won’t tell.”
Weary, he broke eye contact, and he fixated on fishing out a certain slice of green onion. “We needed someone like you back then.”
Back then? When he—oh.
Back in the League.
Though you attempted to hide your grin by taking a sip of sukiyaki, you caught his eyes flicker to it. “You would’ve taken me? You would’ve let me in?”
“Would you have joined?” he shot back, a bit too quickly.
“No,” you said, rolling your shoulders and settling down farther underneath the kotatsu, “Never. But since you shared something you shouldn’t’ve, I’ll do the same.” You set your thermos down to rub your eyes again—God, you couldn’t look at him for too long, lest your intrusive thoughts hand you your ass. “I thought about it. About joining you.”
You dragged your hand down your face, peeking between your fingers at a muted clink. Tenko was staring at you, something fucking unreadable in his scrounched eyes, and both hands lay five-fingered and flat on the kotatsu, steam from his open thermos fluffing up hair on one side of his head. “You’re not serious. You wouldn’t have.”
“Not in the way you think,” you said, tilting your head back, “but I often thought, in the aftermath of the Paranormal Liberation Raid, what I could’ve done, if I’d known what I know now. And as the rest of the war was unfolding, I only wanted it more.”
Tenko blinked, slowly. “Tell me what you would’ve done.”
“Oh, you would’ve hated me, down to the dregs of my very soul,” you said, shifting to sit on your knees, “I would’ve started after your fight with Re-Destro, after the PLF was established. When you were letting allllllllll those heroes in, the sidekicks, the nobodies, anyone who seemed like they were with the cause. I would’ve infiltrated. Slipped in without notice. Hawks did, with the Commission, but I would’ve been going in as a free agent.”
“No one notices a U.A. student slide in between the masses. Re-Destro’s lackeys wouldn’t notice you at the door like I would. You get in,” Tenko said, taking his thermos in hand again but still engrossed in you, “What then?”
“There was a short period of time between the PLF establishment and your procedure, right? Around a month? That’s when I go. I worm my way into the good graces of some of the nine lieutenants—I’ve decided my pipeline would’ve been Geten to Toga to you. You’d just come out of an enormous battle, with Re-Destro and that city and Gigantomachia for a whole month. I heard you were bandaged up, on crutches, that you’d lost fingers that you regrew in that regeneration tank,” you said, eyes on his hands, one in a fist in his lap and the other around his thermos, five fingers pressing onto the grip but the pinkie finger hitched farther up than the rest, “That you’d given a speech and made your appearances regardless. That you’d pushed yourself to your limit and then broke yourself a little more. And you would’ve loathed me, because I would’ve come in, earned my way to your side, and I would’ve put my hand on your shoulder, slid it up your neck to cup your cheek to ask Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to rest?” You smiled and huffed, shoving it down, and though his hard stare should’ve pinned you to your seat, you pushed on the corner of the kotatsu to edge yourself over to his side, a knee on his cushion. “I like to think that you’ve sighed, sulked a bit, reluctant to admit anything was wrong at all, because back then, you had no use for moonlight. But I would’ve made you look at me, taken you to a bed, made you lie down until your eyes fluttered shut and the tension swept through your body and left. And you would rest,” you said, finding yourself leaning over him very slightly, knees touching his, just enough so that he leant backwards just a fraction, “I would’ve made that month so soft for you. I would’ve taken care of you, when nobody was fucking paying attention to you in the way that they should’ve. I fucking—I wanted it.” You gripped the front of his hoodie, fist grasping more fabric than necessary to shake him. “I wanted it. I wanted to care for you. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know. And you were fucking alone, in an unfamiliar place, and it kills me to think about that.”
You ducked your head to wipe your watery eyes on your sleeve, taking a breath—and realising what you were doing. You loosened your grip, but before you could pull away, Tenko was cat-like quick to grab your sleeve—why won’t he touch you?
“I wouldn’t have accepted your help,” he said, quiet, controlled, holding you down with his eyes, hand shifting to curve under your sleeved wrist, signalling that you could escape at any time, “That was after the worst month of my life, fighting Machia, and I wouldn’t have accepted it. I had too much to do. I would’ve shaken you off.”
“No, you wouldn’t’ve.”
“I would’ve,” he said, a bare finger, featherlight, skimming over the tender, bare skin of the underside of your wrist (oh, wow), “I wouldn’t trust that easily in that short of a time. You’d have met me, and that’d be it. If you’d persisted, I would’ve ripped you to shreds and tossed you aside.”
“Tenko,” you said, both relief and tightness blooming from your wrist, “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
The hallway shoji slammed open, somehow rattling as it slid in its tracks and shook the walls, and you and Tenko scrambled apart, with you jolting backwards on your hands, grappling for your seat cushion, and Tenko banging his thermos on the kotatsu, hastily wrestling with keeping it upright as he flung his body to the side.
“Hey, fuck you, Touya,” Tenko spluttered out, elbowing himself upright as—as fucking Dabi strode inside, hands in the deep pockets of his black sweatpants. “You said you’d stay in the main house.”
“Don’t mind me,” said Touya, cool as you please, raising both of his hands in defence, “I had to ensure you’re not fucking in my bed.”
“What is—” Tenko clambered to his feet to cross to him, chirping with each stomp, and whisper-shouting once he’d corralled Touya into a far corner. “I said we’d hang out later today, Touya. You swore you’d stay inside and watch Naruto this afternoon.”
The polite thing to do would be to appear fascinated by the tea. You returned to your cushion and poured yourself another cup.
“Yeah, but I’ve been told I’ve got shit to do later. I’ve got to go to this fuckin’—fuckin’ family stuff. I don’t wanna get into it,” said Touya, at full volume, “and I wanted to check that your girl was real. Y’know, she looks nothing like someone who’d have GinzengTea as her username. Have you given it to her already?”
“Shut the fuck up. I was just about to do that, if you hadn’t interrupted, cockhead.”
“Cool,” he said, a bird-note as he shifted his weight, “I wanna see what she thinks.”
“Hell, no—”
“I helped pick ‘em out. Let me watch and have an ohagi, and I’ll leave,” said Touya, chirping towards you before he finished the sentence, and Tenko followed him, muttering under his breath.
Touya sat on the bare tatami next to you, joints cracking as he yanked the kotatsu blanket up his legs, shooting you a small salute and a concerningly charming smile. “Hey,” he said, tilting his head, eyes half-lidded, smile stretching to show more of his even, white teeth, “I’ve seen you before, yeah? When was the last time you laid eyes on me?”
Tenko pelted him in the chest with a plastic-wrapped ohagi, cutting off the ooze of charisma. “Show-off,” he said, nudging another sweetened rice ball your way.
You nodded but didn’t move to unwrap it, since you were still working on your sukiyaki. “I’m surprised you remember, Touya,” you said, the name feeling strange on your tongue, “It must’ve been years since I elbowed you in the tit.”
Eyes lighting the fuck up, you snapped towards Tenko when he laughed into his plastic wrap: still not loud, still not making any vocalisation with it, but releasing a heavy, sharp burst of air with a wide, open grin. He hunched over to hide more of it, using both hands to unwrap his ohagi—and in the moment he realised he’d been unwrapping it with only his pointer fingers and thumbs, he dropped the rest of his fingers onto the rice ball, still smirking to himself.
Biting your lip in your own smile, you turned back to Touya (you caught his moment of mild alarm at how thrilled you were when Tenko laughed—or maybe it was alarm at Tenko laughing at all—but Touya relaxed his eyebrows and shut his mouth the second you faced him again). “God, yeah, it must have been before that last battle that we’d met in a fight, and I’d gotten close enough to hit you, and…” You shook your head. “Actually, I don’t wanna talk about that stuff. It’s not who we are now.”
“That’s fine.” Touya nodded towards Tenko and took a bite of his ohagi. “Shimura, don’t you have something to give her?”
Shimura. That was his last name, you supposed, but wasn’t it odd that Tenko called Touya by his given name and that Touya called Tenko by his family name? Tenko didn’t make you call him Shimura. Well, you supposed that there’s only one Shimura now, and because of the number of Todorokis, it paid to be specific—
“Here.” Tenko set a flat box in front of you, flipping the buckle of his bag back over. “I was going to give it to you with more formality, but since this bastard showed up, I’m doing it like this.”
Biting the inside of your cheek, brow furrowed, you unpacked a pair of pale blue headphones, soft to the touch with a mesh headband so that your head wouldn’t ache.
“Noise-cancelling,” Tenko said, gabbling, frowning very slightly, “Rechargeable. There’s a detachable microphone so it can function as a headset. I wanted to do something good for you.” His eyes darted towards Touya, and they dropped to his ohagi’s bulging filling, seeping out onto the plastic wrap. “You need them, anyway. I’ve been sick of hearing you through those shitty earbuds; their sound is terrible, and when you said you’d lost your only pair—which I don’t fucking understand how you can lose those things, because they just fucking show up in my shit all the time, like a goddamn plague—I thought you needed something quality—just to make it easier on my end, obviously, so that I don’t have to tell you to yell into that shitty, built-in micropho—”
“Tenko,” you said, reaching over to place your tea-hot hand over the back of his, fingers curving with his along ohagi’s edge, “Thank you so much. I adore them. I’m really grateful that you would think of me.”
Tenko froze, the same as he had when you’d adjusted his scarf. Unable to look you in the eye, like a prey animal, stiff, shoulders tense, colour rushing up his neck to his face and ears again—but this time, he lifted his hand just a hair from his ohagi to press back into your palm, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
“Hoo, boy,” said Touya, startling the both of you when he slammed his hands on the kotatsu to push himself up, “I’ve had enough. I’ve had my little snack. I’m leaving.” Once on his feet, he stretched, pressing his hands to his lower back and arching it, grunting.
“Good fucking riddance, cocksucker,” said Tenko, rising and grabbing Touya by the elbow to haul him to the door.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Touya, dragging his feet, chirping slurred and confused by his movement, and when Tenko had him at the wall, trying to shove him out, Touya, smirking under your watch, whispered something to Tenko while forcing something into his palm. Touya ducked out as Tenko looked at what he’d accepted and, letting out a yelp, dusted whatever it was before he hurried back to the kotatsu.
(When you left the teahouse half an hour later, you discovered that he’d decayed only the wrapper and not the condom itself.)
***
“One moment, please. Nezu-sensei is in a meeting right now, but he’ll be out momentarily. Please take a number—yes, the ticket puncher when you first came in,” you said to yet another impatient and pissed client in the admin waiting room, packed to the gills with parents, press, vendors, potential sponsors, and, for some reason, Mt. Lady’s entire representative team. “By the door. If you’ll take a seat, we’ll be with you shortly.”
God, you could punt Nezu for this. Not that there was anything wrong with establishing a new, annual event for U.A.—a cherry blossom garden-set, competitive scavenger hunt coming up in the spring—but because of his casual comment that it would rise to the same importance as the Sports Festival, you were swamped with those eager to invest early. Unable to take a break, you had to work with your head bowed, desperately hoping none of these people recognised you and your failure, when all you wanted was to reply to Tenko’s messages on Cipherstone that morning.
Tenkopeito: You’ll like the next quest. You can pet a dog in it
Tenkopeito: Come over to my room this evening so that we can talk in person
Was he intending to speak with innuendo or with such sincerity that it cut right through you? Moreover, was he aware he was even doing it? Based on what you’ve observed, Tenko had no idea what he was doing to you, nor did he know how hard you were trying not to act on your attraction, though you weren’t even doing a great job of suppressing it.
It’s strange: Tenko evoked some strange, unnameable emotion in you like nothing else. You wanted to coddle him; you wanted to play stupid video games with him; you wanted to sweep his hair out of his eyes, and though you kept telling yourself that you didn’t, you wanted him to tell you how to touch yourself, how to touch him. You brushed it off. Another time. Perhaps never.
“Oh, hi!” Former pro-hero Ragdoll squealed your family name, making you jump in your seat. “It is you. I couldn’t tell from farther back in the line.” Fuck, Ragdoll would recognise you, since she and the rest of the Wild, Wild Pussycats trained Class A, and she specifically spent time with you on your tracking skills because of her Search quirk.
Don’t cause a scene. “Hello, Shiretoko,” you said, doing your best not to let your face be seen from over the reception desk’s overhang, “It’s good to see you. How can I help?”
When she beamed, she was as bright as ever. “Oh! The Pussycats want to offer our services for the scavenger hunt! We wanna get back into charity and civilian events now that we’re back from our mission for—but wait, you know all about that!” You didn’t. But her cheerful voice carried, and people were already turning towards Ragdoll, part of a hero team ranked in the top thirty. “I wanna hear more about what you’ve been up to! Since you left the hero business, no one’s known where you’ve been! Gosh, have you been behind this dreary old desk the whole time?” Ragdoll leant over the overhang, flicking at a loose strand of your hair. “I thought you were sent out on missions out of the country! Like, really important, top-secret stuff. It’s weird seeing you in an office, especially since I consider you a mini me. Why are you back at your alma mater? Did your agency not want you anymore?”
She wasn’t meaning to be cruel. Her loud, blunt sincerity, though, drew the attention of onlookers, and their flashes of recognition, subsequent judgment, and turning away made your chest tight. “I needed a break. That’s all.”
A thin, blonde woman in a burgundy overcoat leaning against the wall immediately next to the reception had been evaluating you, scanning you from top to bottom during the exchange. She didn’t bother hiding her curiosity, and when you shakily handled the rest of the conversation with Ragdoll, she turned to the short, softly featured man beside her. “You know her?” She hadn’t even tried to quiet her voice; it jolted you from Ragdoll, but you steeled yourself and continued printing off a schedule for her—and from the depths of your brain came the woman’s identity: Uwabami, the snake hero, one who usually flaunted her celebrity status but currently dressed down, without her hair snakes (a rattlesnake, a yellow king cobra, and a Japanese rat snake, which—shut up! You don’t need this information right now! Can you be fucking sane, please?).
Her sidekick—no, an intern, a student at U.A., some fuckin’ twink in the year below you, name escaping you at the moment—had some iota of tact when he looked you over, slanting his body away, as if he weren’t staring. “Yes,” he said, trying not to let you hear, “She’s my former senpai and nothing more to me. We didn’t run in the same circles. She’s the one who made that rescue a few months back, the one that got a lot of online backlash.”
“No, seriously,” Ragdoll was saying, “Why are you back at U.A.? Don’t you have somewhere else to go?”
“My—” People behind Ragdoll in line were listening. Trying not to show it. Your throat ran dry, and you couldn’t think of a lie or a pleasant half-truth. “My flat was compromised. My address was leaked, and eventually, people were—look, Shiretoko,” you said, forcing the words out of your mouth, “I really don’t want to talk about this. Here’s the printed schedule. I’ll talk to you later.”
You slid the paper across the counter, and she took it, waving goodbye and still beaming.
“Is this what happens when a hero career doesn’t work out? They just shove you back where someone will take you? At any old office desk?” that fucking twink was asking Uwabami, “I can’t—it honestly scares me to think I could lose myself and be misplaced like that. It’s wasting talent, don’t you think?”
“How can I help you?” you asked the next person in line through gritted teeth.
When Uwabami lowered her sunglasses to glance over them, you inhaled sharply and swung your swivel chair so that you wouldn’t see her. “I don’t know about that. Maybe this dreadful administration office is where she’s meant to be.”
Biting his lip, he shifted his jaw and crossed his arms, slumping against the wall. “You’ll always have a place for me, right, Uwabami? I don’t want this to happen to me.”
“Yes, I can print you out a copy of the same schedule. If you’ll allow me a moment to print.”
“Of course, Kakeru,” Uwabami said, ignorant of how you were gripping a pencil so tightly that it could snap any second, “You’ll never be left behind.” But then she fucking stared you down, deliberately holding eye contact while you were at the printer, and she said, “You’ll never need a place to hide. I’ll make sure you don’t fail.”
“Hey, how about you shut up?” you hissed, ripping the printer-warm schedule from the tray and storming back to your current client to shove it into their hands. “Aren’t Japanese rat snakes supposed to be in hibernation this time of year, anyway?”
***
Someone in Mt. Lady’s group recorded it. Someone posted it.
wizardjenkins11: jesus christ who knew u.a. had its own island of misfit toys
emotionalsupportdynamightsweat: nice to see that she kept her snark, but what is she doing back at school?? don’t heroes have some sort of paperwork component to their work. why isn’t she still at an agency
blood-is-thiccer: lol ua’s the only one who’d take the bitch. she’s being rude as hell to an actual pro hero. lameass quirk anyway and ass flat as hell lmao she fucken deserved that guy lighting her mailbox on fire
LynchianTiddies: You’re encouraging domestic terrorism???
blood-is-thiccer: that’s not domestic terrorism
LynchianTiddies: Then what, pray fucking tell, is it??
blood-is-thiccer: wikipedia.org/wiki/Vandalism
XylemPhloemBuckaroo: no but I get what that guy was saying about wasting talent tho. Out of everyone in that class a, she’s the only one not topping the fucking hero charts rn. She’s the only one who’s left hero work. What makes her weaker than the rest of her classmates? What happened to her to make her like this?
koiboi69: wouldn’t you quit if people were camping outside your house/work/grocerystore? And also FUCK, man, there’s no fucking need to say she’s fucking weak. that’s kicking her while she’s down
XylemPhloemBuckaroo: I’m not kicking her while she’s down. I’m stating facts and asking reasonable questions.
koiboi69: bro wouldn’t YOU feel down if you’d didn’t have a home to go back to??? going back to u.a. is like admitting defeat, like you couldn’t handle it on your own and need protection
mawatadaddysgorl: i love seeing updates on her bc it makes me feel so good about what i’m doing with my life
***
Uraraka and Shinsou texted you but couldn’t call, let alone come from across town. Aizawa was AWOL, and Dango was hiding under your bed, so you, blotchy-faced and damp, were crumpled on the floor outside of room 310, eating vending machine bullshit and waiting for Tenko to return home.
Exactly all the insecurities you’d been stuffing down for months and months, brought out to air in front of everyone. Instead of doomscrolling, you locked your phone and slid it across the hallway carpet, burying your face in your hands and stomach lurching to the thought that you might soon be plastered everywhere in sight, again. Another round of intensive laying low loomed on the horizon, especially now that your location was made public. Your little secretary job was good enough, and relocating elsewhere on campus would lead to more job training, which would be a bitch.
Where was Tenko? You needed him here to say something irreverent and vindictive. Something unhinged. Or you needed him to hold you, pull you into his lap, and bitch about the whole thing while watching a movie. Tenko had messaged you to come by after work, so why wasn’t he…?
The staircase door hissed open, Tenko pushing it with his back, reusable grocery bags on his arms, and—and wearing a cape? Who the fuck wears a cape casu—oh shit he’s in his hero costume.
You’d heard that he had one, designed by the same company that’d made Midoriya’s and Shouto’s, and the similarities were clear: a boxy sort of design due to thick fabric that still somehow hugged his chest, a minimalist utility belt, and sturdy, knee-capping boots, positively flaming scarlet in contrast to the dark greys of the rest of his jumpsuit. The most obvious connection with another hero, though, made your chest throb: his cloak fastened with the same clasp his grandmother’s had. His dust-blocking respirator lay around his neck for the moment, but what was most embarrassing for you was how your brain fucking wheezed like a boiling kettle at his bare arms, biceps bulging, every fucking inch of skin down to his fingertips completely on display like a goddamn slut.
Whore behaviour. Whore behaviour! You had to duck your head when he squatted next to you, because oh, now you could see the stretch marks on his upper arms, because he’d gotten large way too quickly to be healthy, and smell his fading Old Spice and sweat from being out on what must have been an emergency call, and he was setting his grocery bags aside, reaching out to graze your shoulder, and wow, he’d been complaining about how he didn’t have abs yet despite working out five days a week now that his stamina had increased, but that fabric clung to his lower abdomen, looking very, very flat.
Initially pinching the fabric of your sweater, he shifted his jaw and laid his hand on your shoulder. “Who am I dusting?”
“God, Tenko,” you said, trying to look anywhere but his arms, or his abdomen, or his fucking lips, but he was leaning so much over you that he occupied most of your line of vision, and the only way to avoid seeing anything besides wisps of white hair was to gaze at the popcorned ceiling. “You’re not supposed to do that anymore.”
“Oh, yeah? Who am I dusting?” He squeezed your shoulder, stretching his thumb out to rub at your collarbone.
“Unless you can dust everyone in the country, I don’t think decay will help.”
Tenko clicked his tongue. “I have been explicitly told not to do that,” he said, shifting to sit on his knees, “I have—” He dug into a grocery bag for a moment. “—this for you. You like this shit, right?” Tenko pressed a bottle of pink lemonade into your hands.
“Fucking. Fuck. I do,” you said, passing the condensation-coated bottle from one hand to another, chest tightening, blinking to keep the water levels low, “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me this.”
“I know that,” he said with a dismissive wave, and he paused, fists in his lap. “Would it help if I gave you a hug?”
(What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the—)
“Yeah,” you said calmly, like a calm person, and when Tenko opened his (muscular) arms, you crawled into them, wrapping your own around his back to rest between his shoulder blades. You rested your chin in a fold of his cape, cheek pressing against the side of his respirator, and you frowned as his embrace tightened, pulling you closer in a sloppy, unpractised sort of way, grounded by the steady rise and fall of his very solid chest.
(This felt…affectionate. Romantic, even.
But Shigaraki Tomura didn’t do romance, and you don’t—you’re not—you wouldn’t dream of being conceited enough to read someone’s perhaps thoughtless actions as flirtation, because why would someone be flirting with you? No one did that in general, and being U.A.’s humiliating problem child exacerbated the fact.
Moreover, why would the man who was Shigaraki Tomura, in the middle of his rehabilitation and re-discovery of self, even in the microscopic chance that he had the mental energy to experience romantic feelings, aim that romantic impulse towards you? It would make more sense if he liked someone he’d known for a while, like Touya or Spinner or Toga, and if his romantic feelings leant towards recuperative trauma-bonding, wouldn’t it be more apt to feel for someone at his rehab? His therapist, maybe? He’d idolised Aizawa before he’d met him, and even that would make more sense than latching onto someone as late in the process as you.
He’d gotten flustered when you’d tied his scarf, and Touya’s played terrible wingman. But still. You couldn’t know. You can’t read into this, even though reading into things had been your job, because—because no one would want you. You’ll have to…You’ll have to gather more evidence. You couldn’t be certain.)
Tenko hummed, chin digging into your shoulder, blowing strands of your hair out of his face. “I calmed a kid down earlier by hugging her. Is this working for you?”
(…oh.)
You sniffled and hid your mouth in his cape so that he couldn’t catch your pout. “That’s—that’s good that a kid allowed you to comfort her. What happened?”
“Pipes broke in an old apartment building in the Takoba district. The third floor collapsed under the pressure, and it trapped families in part of the building. I was called out to dust the rubble trapping them,” Tenko said, tapping his fingers high on your back in a ripple, “and they had me dust some other walls to help start the repairs. It was cool. And this one little girl who’d gotten out before the rest of her family was really nervous, and she was sticking to me, holding onto my cape. I was telling her that everything was gonna be okay, like you’ve taught me, and when I asked how she was doing, this fuckin’ kid extended her arms to me. So, I fucking hugged her. Picked her up so she could see what was happening better. It was weird, but it felt good.” Tenko sighed. “I hate how it wants me to be kind more.”
And fuck, fuck, that’s the last straw to this horrible day, and you’re crying, silently, controlling your breathing to keep Tenko from finding out, because goddammit, this idiot bastard man was surprisingly easy to love.
You buried your face fully in his shoulder, hoping he couldn’t feel any wetness through his costume, and you and Tenko sat in the quiet of the hallway for a minute, interrupted only by the A/C kicking in.
Tenko tried to part the two of you enough to look you in the face, but you doubled down, curling your fingers into the fabric of his jumpsuit and keeping your head bowed. Scoffing, he sat upright, making you follow his movements to stay hidden. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong yet?”
“Forget all that shit I’ve taught you,” you said, grumbling to his tits now that he’d changed positions, hating how stopped up you sounded already, “It doesn’t matter what you fucking do in the public’s eye, because there’s always gonna be someone who hates you. You can’t please everyone, so just fucking be yourself. That’s funnier, anyway.”
“Did you psychoanalyse some press member’s pathetic sex life, or something? Deduce an affair based on the way he knots his tie? Announce the state of his dick to the whole room because of the length of his pants?”
“Fuck off, Tenko. I’m not some pretentious-ass Sherlock Holmes bitch,” you said, pursing your lips and instinctively pulling back to glare at him—
And the moment you did, Tenko cupped your face in his hands, soft at the palm and strongly calloused along his fingers, keeping you facing towards him no matter how hard you tried to jerk away, struggling to stay upright. “You are crying.”
“No, I’m not,” you said, just as a falling tear touched his thumb. As you adjusted to his grip, your hands fell to his thighs, pressing against them in fists.
“Hm. Well, you don’t have to tell me,” he said, eyes on another tear trailing down the other cheek, “but you’re joining me to watch a movie with Eri. I got snacks on the way home.”
You sighed, taking in how big his hands were and how much of your face they encompassed, trying to memorise their feeling until they were snatched away forever. “I thought we were gonna start a new quest tonight. I was excited.”
Tenko balked and shifted into a sceptical grin. “You wanted to play Ciperstone tonight?” he asked, both thumbs rubbing your cheekbones and moving to swipe underneath your eyes.
You sighed again, shoulders heaving as Tenko released your face to flick tears off of his hand. “I didn’t want to be myself for a few hours.”
Tenko pushed on his knees to stand. “That’s actually related to what I originally wanted to talk to you about. Furthering the working-with-others mission,” he said, and he extended his hand to help you up. “What do you know about Dungeons and Dragons?”
***
“God fucking dammit!” Tenko slammed his palm to his forehead and leant back to balance on the kitchen chair’s back legs and then combed his fingers back through his hair, upsetting some strands from his ponytail. Groaning, he crooked his face your way, smushed his face against the chair back, and pointed towards his forehead, where a red splot was forming. “Hit me as hard as you can.”
“Being bludgeoned won’t change the fact that you rolled a three,” you said, nodding towards his d20, “I ignore his whining and continue to drain the fig tree to charge my spell.”
Behind the DM screen, Shinsou rolled his own dice, and once his eyebrows had shot up to his hairline, he turned to Midoriya. “I need you to roll two d12s and a d4.”
Tenko bolted upright, hastily sweeping his bangs out of his face. “Wait, what does Midoriya have to do with it? He’s across the fucking grove! He’s engaged in close-ranged combat.”
You turned away from Shinsou’s sly grin and towards Tenko, mouth nearly a straight line, yanking another cluster of grapes from the communal bowl, and shoving two grapes in his mouth. He pinched at his lower lip as he chewed, twisting and peeling at dead skin, frowning as he focused on his character sheet, scanning it for some sort of information he was forgetting and absentmindedly raising his knee to his chest, the heel of his foot propped on the seat of his chair (thank God his jeans were from Best Jeanist’s Moulded to Your Ass line: the denim strained with his muscles. Your eye twitched). In this particular morning, with the five of you squared off at Aizawa’s kitchen table, papers and dice strewn among grocery store bakery cinnamon rolls and coffee cups (Tenko’s was full of gatorade instead of coffee, much to his chagrin), as Tenko was throwing grapes into Touya’s mouth while Shinsou did math, the narwhal house slippers dangling off Tenko’s feet, it struck you that Shigaraki Tomura had become just some guy. One who went for walks to clear his head, who spent hours failing to do a kickflip on Present Mic’s skateboard, who used emoticons over emojis, who got nervous in fast food drive-throughs, who collected hero merch (of Aizawa fervently and Present Mic against his will), who was losing his sensitivity to foods like leeks and onions, a man who was growing more and more exquisitely mundane.
And goddamn, he’s clever and perceptive and patient and cheeky in a devastatingly attractive way, and he’s flustered easily, eager to do a thing correctly, and utterly, totally captivating in his endless discoveries of what it means to be alive.
You timed it so that the shudder and shock crossing his face could pass as response to Shinsou’s description of how Tenko’s enchanted crossbow bolt missed the Spirit Realm Necromancer entirely, instead sinking into the sacred Grand Oak and instantly shattering the tree as if it were glass, its elaborate root system holding up the floating grove splintering into thousands of tiny shards, the ground beneath your party’s feet crumbling at the slightest suggestion of the shifting of weight. But really he curled in his lips with a furrowed brow and stuttering breath when you reached underneath the table to graze the back of his hand, and when he forced himself to relax, shoulders slackening, frown fading, Tenko spread his fingers to cover more of his denim-clad thigh, which you took as a timid sort of consent. Biting the inside of your cheek, you eased your palm over the back of Tenko’s hand, lacing your fingers through his and going through the motions of reacting to Shinsou’s shattered earth. Neither of you looked at each other while Midoriya’s character suffered the Necromancer’s spell to increase gravity, each movement of Midoriya’s bulky, steel armour accelerating the fall of the floating grove. By the time each of you had had enough turns to land on solid ground, preserving little of the sacred grove but all surviving, Tenko finally squeezed your fingers back, curling his own to grip them more firmly, keeping your hand pinned to his thigh, steeling himself, sitting up straight, and proposing getting close enough to the Necromancer to drive a crossbow bolt directly into his skull.
Midoriya was already muttering to himself over the effectiveness of the action while Shinsou worked, and Touya irreverently flicked his dice at Tenko, chugging coffee with his other hand. “You plunge the bolt by hand into the Necromancer’s head,” said Shinsou, “but with your strength debuff still in effect, you only nick him.”
“I try stabbing it through his ear.”
“It goes through,” said Shinsou, nodding and running his hand back through his hair, which sprung back into place, “It doesn’t pierce the neocortex, so he can still summon another—“
“I stomp him to death with my hooves,” said Touya, picking at his teeth and running his tongue over the spot.
The rest of you turned to him slowly in various states of incredulity.
“You don’t have hooves, Touya,” you said, tilting your head at the same time Tenko rubbed his thumb over yours, prompting your breath to hitch and a strange warmth to travel through your body, making you feel dizzy.
Touya grimaced and reached for a cinnamon roll. “I take off my leather breeches and boots to reveal my hooves. I have been a satyr masquerading as a human this whole time.” He leant forward on his elbow, glaring at Shinsou and gesturing with his cinnamon roll. “I stomp him. To death. With my hooves.”
Tenko sneered, his teeth cutting into his lower lip, but he merely opened his mouth and closed it, poking his tongue into his cheek. “I suppose maiming a party member wouldn’t coincide with my character’s chaotic good alignment,” he said, heaving a huge sigh to—oh, that cunning rat bastard—to conceal how he flipped his hand over in yours to touch palms, weaving your fingers back together and squeezing again, planting them back on his upper leg, massaging between your knuckles with his thumb.
“What’d you just roll?”
“Nineteen,” said Touya, casting Shinsou a slice of his most charming smile.
Midoriya let out a little laugh as Shinsou bitterly plopped his head on his fist. “Fuck you, Touya. Congratulations. You clomp over to the Necromancer and stomp all over him. Stompy stomp stomp stompy stomp. It’s difficult to watch at the insane speed you’re going, so no one stops you from doing such a good job pounding him that he’s ground into dust. Bits of him drift away in the wind.”
Here Midoriya winced. “Weren’t we supposed to retrieve the soul crystal embedded in his gauntlet? We can’t get our reward from that Silver Age dragon rider if we don’t have it.”
“Correct,” said Shinsou, glancing down at his notes, “It has been stomped to smithereens. You can’t even make out what parts of the pile of dust were once flesh.”
Ready to bolt, Touya was getting up from the table and holding up his hands in defence, but before Midoriya could start a speech that would have been more apt for the number one hero to use on patrol rather than during a DND game, the door to Aizawa’s flat opened, and in he walked, covering his yawn with the back of his hand. He halted at the sight of the five of you around his kitchen table, taking in the scattered papers and remnants of breakfast before settling on your DM. “Shinsou,” Aizawa began, disappointment outweighing the exhaustion in his voice.
“You’re the only one with a table that could fit all of us,” Shinsou said, spinning in his chair to face him, “This dormitory doesn’t have a good common area like the student ones do. Would you really prefer us to—”
“We can find you a table; there’s plenty on campus.” Aizawa lifted his goggles over his head to set them on the counter. “Is this why Monoma kept slowing me down during patrol?”
“No,” you and Shinsou said, while Tenko said, “Yes.”
Aizawa actually smiled as he unwound his capture weapon from around his neck. “Look who’s the only one telling the truth.”
“Why would I lie to you, sensei?”
Touya smacked Tenko on the arm. “Suck-up.”
“You promise?” Tenko shot back, nose wrinkling with his grin.
“This coffee had better be amazing, because it’s the only thing keeping me from kicking you all out right now,” said Aizawa, rubbing a dry eye with the heel of his palm, other hand outstretched for someone to pass him a mug.
Tenko’s thumb bent inward to swipe the inside of your palm, a silent protest while he drank from his stupid little mug of gatorade, and when he noticed what was at the bottom, he flinched. It must have been Touya who’d put your dice in Tenko’s cup.
***
Following the video of you insulting Uwabami, you’re garnering an unnerving amount of attention again, but it’s clearly someone different than last time. Whoever your stalker(s) was this time around, they were careless and unsubtle—and this confidence to be careless left you jumping at the slightest sound when you were alone.
Furthermore, you legitimately couldn’t deduce your stalker’s motivations, because no clear message linked his actions. At first, you chalked it up to the dorm’s shitty dryer eating your bright blue thong, but when you couldn’t find your lip balm or trolley pass or eventually your favourite sweater, you concluded that something else was at play here, further cemented by more and more tiny things going missing—things that, if you were stalking someone, you would’ve selected as small enough not to miss.
But bizarrely, your stalker left shit of his own lying about. A phone charger appeared underneath your pillow; loose change and a travel pack of alcoholic wipes showed up in your bathroom sink. Hello Kitty band-aids, a hair clip that looked like one of Rumi’s ears, deep-moisturising hand cream, a tiny lizard keychain with a white hamburglar mask drawn on. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. What could your stalker be trying to say besides he could access your personal space with ease? Hoarding it all in the drawer with the GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK hentai, you were struck with the notion that this may have been going on even before the video.
God, you missed when this school felt more like home instead of a holding cell, back when Shinsou and Uraraka and the rest were all still living together with you, when you could simply turn the corner to the common area to demand who took your laundry detergent and get an answer immediately (you also missed taking Aoyama’s bougie food, though you suspected that towards the end he was buying extra specifically for you). You sent an email to Aizawa about the potential break in security, and he promised to monitor the situation, though there was no evidence of physical entry.
Evidence. It’s been on your mind.
Sure, Tenko’s done stuff that could be read as romantic: how he plops your hand onto his head to demand you play with his hair, how he hovers whenever Touya stands too closely to you, how he gets upset on your behalf when people glare at you in public.
(Tenko grabbed your elbow, breaking your focus on the clothing rank. “We’re going.”
“But we haven’t found you a red coat yet.”
He lifted the hangers from your arm and slid them back onto the rack, despite belonging elsewhere. “Don’t care. I don’t like the way the cashier’s looking at you,” he said, jerking his head their direction, and when you tilted your head to glance at them over his shoulder, Tenko tapped your chin twice, guiding you to look back at him. “You shouldn’t have to be on guard when I’m with you.”)
If you were reading into it—and you were—Tenko was being so careful with talking about the pro-hero scene around you that it was almost as if he’d gotten a mission task from Aizawa to distract you from anything that might make you feel bad about yourself.
(“I hear you’re causing a lot of paperwork for my old man,” said Touya, pulling out another floor cushion from the storage space in the teahouse wall, “He hates that you’ve had to dust so many structures near his agency. He’s a decrepit creature of habit, and now that his commute is different, he’s—”
“Hey, Touya, tell us what flower bulbs you planted this winter,” Tenko said abruptly, clamping the lid on the pot hanging over the sunken fireplace, “Tell us what your garden’ll look like in spring.”
You shut your book, even though you’d just opened it. “Wait, are you saying that Touya is the one who keeps this garden? That’s—”
“You like it, sweetheart?” Touya dropped his cushion next to yours, ignoring the way Tenko was glaring daggers into his back. “Think it’s impressive?”
“Holy shit; I thought we were in the back of some professionally restored historical site the first time we came here,” you said, smiling at how Tenko’s petulant stomps to his seat chirruped, even when he scooted his own cushion towards yours (adorable; you’d think he didn’t like you giving attention to anyone else).
“Well,” said Touya, propping his hands on the kotatsu so that he could get a better view of Tenko, “With enormous pride and a huge erection, I’m pleased to announce that this garden is all my hard work.”
“Stop that,” barked Tenko, jabbing a finger towards Touya, “Stop bringing up your cock.”
“I could talk about yours, if you want. His monster cock is excruciatingly leaky and so shaped.”
Groaning, Tenko clonked his forehead on the kotatsu’s tabletop before Touya could say anything else, arm still outstretched. He peeked out from underneath his bangs towards you, tension leaving his body at your burst of laughter.)
He’s also taken your comment about silent admiration to heart. Over the discord call (through very comfortable headphones), you’d made a dumb joke about not being able to play for long, and he’d shut up immediately. When you’d confessed to lying and hoping you’d scared him, he’d replied seriously: “I want to protect my time with you. I don’t like it being taken away. I feel better when you’re with me.”
You’d frozen in the middle of weaving bowstrings while his character continued stringing them onto bows. You’d never have gotten that sort of remark at the beginning of your relationship. Tenko must genuinely be listening to you.
Anyway. You decided in the event that Tenko was collecting evidence, too, that you would leave him some.
The first time you’d been in his room had been for a specific purpose, which was to help him rub in his new facial scar moisturiser (not to take them away, or anything, because Tenko wanted to keep them, claiming he wouldn’t recognise himself in the mirror if he didn’t have his scars—and you thought they were devastatingly attractive, anyway—but just to keep them hydrated enough not to itch), but now you were here just to spend time in the same space. You were reading on his bed (oh, hohoho, his bed), and Tenko was drawing in his sketchbook on his couch by the window. With his mouth pinched in concentration, he squinted down at his paper, swiping away eraser shavings with his artist-gloved hand.
Drawing by natural light. Tenko was in room 310 because of its wide windows. It had been his one request when U.A. was placing him.
AFO had deliberately raised him in a bedroom without windows. You’d kill him if he weren’t already dead.
Thankfully, AFO’s influence was absent from Tenko’s dorm: Naruto sheets from Touya, an old Nintendo DS on his bedside table with Nintendogs in the cartridge slot, Present Mic’s skateboard propped against the coatrack that held only a black hoodie, unfolded but clean laundry in a basket next to a dresser with prescription bottles atop it, a mirror that served more as a bulletin board of Eraserhead merch than as a way to check his reflection, red shoes by the doorway, books borrowed from everyone from All Might to Shinsou to the ramen delivery guy strewn across the room, on shelves, his computer desk, his rug. The thing Tenko’d had to explain to you was a therapist-assigned painting hanging over his desk: he’d painted a murky, purple-blue, abstract sort of thing, and you were strangely touched when he’d explained it was Kurogiri (and now that you were looking, among his bulletin board of Eraserhead, a few drawings of Loud Cloud were mixed in).
There’s a lot of people in Tenko’s life who care about him now, and you’re happy to be one of them. Setting your book aside, you got up to sit next to him on the couch.
He paused when you sank into the cushion next to—well, no, you were basically sharing the same cushion, especially since he unfolded his legs from underneath him so that you could get closer. You scooted over so that your shoulders touched (scandalous) and looked over his drawings.
He’s drawing your DND characters. While his sketches aren’t exactly good, you can clearly tell who’s supposed to be whom, and they’re fun to look at, so that’s all that matters. At the centre is your character, Ginseng—you named it after your Cipherstone account because why not—in the process of spell-charging. Your character relies on the traditional ritual of tea ceremonies, from the growing of the tealeaves to serving it, summoning whatever tools you needed, like the table and dishware, and if an enemy got caught by the conventions of politeness of the tea ceremony, they were trapped in it until they’d drunk their teacup dry. Tenko had drawn her early in the spell-charging process, with branches of tealeaves sprouting from underneath her skin, with her harvesting them from her forearm. It’s rather flattering, the way her determined expression lit up her face.
Next to Ginseng was Tenko’s character, Peito, also lifted from his Cipherstone character. He was sitting on the same log as Ginseng in the middle of camp, backs touching while he cut feathers as the first step in the fletching process. His carved-willow quiver leant against his knee-high boot, red even in a fictional universe. Peito’s hands were bare, five fingers pressed against his knife and arrows.
Further back in the camp (really just towards the top of the paper, since Tenko wasn’t good at foreshortening yet), Midoriya’s character, Jackrabbit, was holding up two hangers, one with his steel and the other with sleek, black leather armour. A nice touch, really, since Midoriya had swopped Jackrabbit’s primary armour to the more lightweight leather since the shattered grove incident, and wow, you could even tell it was leather based on the pencil strokes.
Seated nearby, Touya’s character, Granddaddy Slapkins, roared with laughter at him. His shoes lay next to him, his hooves out. For some reason, he’s not holding his pet duck; he’s instead cradling what looks like your character’s wild shape, a cat with the same chocolate-point markings as your real cat (your character’s shapeshifted form was just Dango, but Tenko didn’t know that. He still didn’t know Dango existed, because cats were still illegal in the dorms, and Tenko, that little brown-nosing shit, would probably tell Aizawa about her. Cute how he’s only a suck-up to Aizawa, though).
Your favourite detail, though, was how his character was smiling. Unabashedly. As if it were a no-brainer, as if doing anything else made no sense at all.
With a stab of affection, you nuzzled into Tenko’s shoulder, resting your chin there while he sketched loops of chainmail onto Granddaddy Slapkins’s shirt, and a shiver racked through him.
“Oh, are you cold?” you asked, sitting back up and heading over towards the bed, “Let me get your blanket.”
“Wha—no, I—sure,” said Tenko, setting his pencil on his sketchbook and the whole thing on the arm of the couch, eyes half-lidded as you returned with his throw blanket.
And without thinking, you moved on impulse, as if all higher orders of cognition had checked out for the night, because you behaved like you did in your head whenever you thought about Tenko: casually, intimately, and domestically. You wrapped the blanket around yourself and knelt on the sofa before swinging a knee over his lap, and you snuggled into his chest, clutching his shirt and nosing at his neck.
Your eyes snapped open.
(What the fuck?
If this had been a planned attack, then it would’ve been a thing of brilliance: casual, seeming to meet a physical need [heating a chill] in the name of physical closeness. But you fucked it. This wasn’t planned, and thus you don’t have a way out of it without otherwise betraying your romantically-motivated interior.
Thank fuck he’s frozen up, too. But how do you get out of this? God, you really shouldn’t be teaching him how to navigate interpersonal relationships when you get yourself into shit like this.)
You swallowed thickly, pulse pounding in your ears.
“I need your advice.” Tenko’s chest barely rose when he took his first breath since you climbed onto his lap. “What would be the socially expected response to this?”
“Uh. That depends on if you’re into it or not,” you said, forcing yourself to sit back in his lap to give him some space, “If you dislike it, then it’s to get me to get off of you, and if you welcome it, then, uh. Anything else.”
Tenko unclenched his fists at his sides and—a pause, shifting his jaw—he let his hands rest at a barely-there touch on your hips, dragging them upwards to your waist, applying enough pressure there for you to feel all ten fingertips through your shirt. “Is this,” he said, wetting his lower lip, and he couldn’t continue, instead swallowing saliva.
Gathering your nerve, you wove your hand through his hair to scratch at his scalp in the way he’d liked when you’d played with his hair, and at the familiarity, Tenko huffed, shutting his eyes tightly and pressing his forehead to yours in a rush, almost knocking them together. He took another breath, heat washing over your face, and you slid your other up hand to cup his cheek.
Tenko shivered again, and he clamped his hand over yours to keep it there. “Are you sure this is what you mean to do?”
He seemed receptive enough to it, but you couldn’t be certain. “Yeah,” you said, “If I’m reading it right.”
“But it makes no sense. I’ve got to be reading it wrong,” Tenko was saying, frowning, “No one would willingly like me—”
“For fuck’s sake, Tenko—”
Practically slapping your other hand to his cheek, you kissed him, pulling him closer, one of his hands still over yours with the other now gripping your waist as if he’d never let you go. Tenko grunted into it, surging forward to keep his rough lips (sticky from his freshly applied pineapple-beeswax chapstick) seared to yours. You felt, more than heard, his miniscule whimper at the back of his throat when he opened his mouth, sliding his tongue into yours, and you could hardly keep kissing him for smiling. But he needed a breath before you did, so you broke it, sensing he wouldn’t do it out of wanting to keep you nearby.
Panting, Tenko tried and failed to push your hair behind your ear in an attempt to be suave. “Now, I perceived that as romantic.”
“It was romantic, you muppet,” you said, thumping his chest with the back of your hand.
“Good.” He cleared this throat. “Cool. Excellent,” he said, shifting underneath you (with difficulty, under the constricting denim of his Moulded to Your Ass jeans), “I want it to be, when it comes to you.”
“Thank God, I really want that, too,” you said, sighing, “but, like, I really don’t know if it’s ethical to pursue a romance this early into your recovery—”
“The fuck is wrong with you? I want it. I want you.” Frustrated, Tenko grabbed your hips in an iron grip and ground up into you, slowly, and that tight-ass denim let you feel precisely where in the drag of his hips his cock touched you, letting you feel the shift in pressure at his tip, down his shaft, to the first curve of his balls. “I thought I was alone. I thought no one else would ever be able to understand me, having fallen from what I was raised to be. Fallen,” he said, spitting, “Such a nasty word for what we’re actually doing: we’ve been reborn together. We get to build our lives back up together. We get another chance at it. I wanna spend mine with you.”
He strained his neck upwards to kiss you again, insistent, moving with confidence when he took your lower lip into his mouth but only nibbling on it once, despite being posed to bite down with vigour.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about what anyone else thinks of you and what anyone else thinks of me. I—”
“That’s not true,” you said, your turn to catch your breath, “You care so much about what Aizawa-sensei—”
“You know what I mean,” he said, shaking his head, hair falling out of his loose ponytail, “You think of me as me, and that’s all that matters. If you’re really that fucking worried about me getting into a relationship too early, go talk to my therapist. She says you’re good for me. A good influence, anyway.”
“Holy shit,” you said, mostly in reaction to how Tenko started trailing frantic, dry kisses down your neck, and, realising you should probably be doing something back, you rolled your hips, feeling awfully warm under the blanket.
He bucked back up into you, more out of desperation to keep you close over a need for friction but still giving you a taste of what it would be like to have him thrusting into you. “Fuck,” he said, almost grumbling, “I’d say fuck being ethical about it, because I’ve wanted you for a long time. I got hard when you shook me by the shoulders outside of that ice cream shop; I thought my soul was gonna leave my body when you adjusted my scarf. Hell, I—” He cut himself off, grinning in a way that, back before you knew him, you might have described as maniacal. “I wanted you back during the war. I saw you fucking elbow Touya during that battle, and the way you made him crumple to the ground was so fucking sexy. And you recovered from when he swiped at you so easily; you slipped around his attacks like it was fucking second nature. I thought it’d be cool to have you by my side, having you—” He realised what he was saying, and he relaxed, smile fading into a curious, pensive sort of look while he brought his thumb to your kiss-swollen lips. “And now I get to.”
You kissed the pad of his thumb, blinking slowly.
“So. Yeah,” he said, dropping his hand to your shoulder as he broke eye contact, a little red, “I think it’d be cool to be with you, even if we have to be careful.”
“That’s the thing, Tenko,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek as you gathered your thoughts, “I’m scared, because while I know that we should, because that’d be safe, I don’t want to be careful. Since I’ve quit being a hero, every single thing about how I’ve been living has left me feeling empty and alone, because it’s like I’m wandering through limbo. Everything screams that whatever I’m doing now is temporary, that it’ll pass, that I don’t truly belong in this situation, because I’ll find what I’m supposed to be doing later and my real home is somewhere down the line, but—fuck.” You rubbed your eye with your fist. “You, Tenko. You don’t feel temporary. You feel forever.”
Underneath you, Tenko stretched to pop a crick in his back, and he tilted his head to lie on the back of the couch. His ponytail had come loose, and his hair splayed against the fabric as he stared at you, one hand idly rubbing at your waist.
“Well. You’ve got to belong somewhere,” he said eventually, and he tapped all five fingers onto your thigh. “It could be with me.”
***
Dango was missing.
Incredible how the best evening of your life preceded the worst day you’ve had in years. You called out of work and spent hours scouring the dorm and then campus. A gruelling, miserable sort of day, anyway, grey and rainy and cold, and the campus was swarmed with people setting up for the scavenger hunt event later this month, populating the area with non-U.A. personnel and construction. Your cat was out in that mess, and you didn’t even know where to search first. It’s loud, scary, and wet, so Dango would most likely be hiding and not come when she’s called.
Had Dango escaped your flat? Had your stalker stolen her? Had she been confiscated by U.A.?
You couldn’t call any faculty for help; they’d get onto you for having an illegal cat on campus—and Hound Dog, the one who’d be the most help, might just scare her to death. Too early in the morning to call any of your friends, and you doubted they’d alter their busy schedules to help you out of a situation you should be able to fix yourself. But damn it, how come your own tracking skills only worked on people?
You shook yourself, coming out of your spiral the best you could, and you were close to hyperventilating. You sat down on a curb.
You found yourself calling Tenko, despite it being too early in the day for him to be out of training, filling with dread about never seeing your cat again and having to clear out her stuff from your room. Pulling your soaked jacket closer, you wiped at your nose and waited at the dial tone.
“Hey, I thought you couldn’t call during work. Miss me that much?”
The second you heard his strangely chipper voice, you started crying into the speaker.
He inhaled sharply, tone shifting. “Tell me who the fuck I’m stomping to death with my hooves.”
Ducking your head, you managed a smile but continued to fucking sob. “You don’t—don’t have to kill anyone, Ten—Tenko. I’ve f—fucked up.”
“What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I’m on cam—campus,” you said, unable to speak for a full sentence without having to cut yourself off to keep bawling, ugly and loud and getting snottier by the minute, “It’s my fucking fault that I haven’t been ta—taking my stupid sta—stalker seriously, and I should’ve reported it, but—but I—goddammit!” The rain picked up again, coming down in rapid, fat drops, and, shielding your eyes, you rubbed your phone screen on your sleeve, not that it did much. “Sor—sorry. Rain got heavier.”
“Where on campus?”
“No, Te—Tenko, I’ll get up. I’m coming to you,” you said, sniffling and pushing on your knees to stand, wet and hungry and ready to crawl into your sock drawer to sleep for days. “I—I’m just so fucking pissed at myself, because my cat is fucking lost, and I could’ve sto—stopped it if I hadn’t been so secreti—tive.” Hands shaking, you yanked your soaked hood over your head and trudged towards your dormitory, and you kicked gravel, rocks scattering over the path, before losing your footing on it and nearly falling. Fuck this.
“You have a cat,” said Tenko, losing his fervent. “What’s it look like?”
“Beautiful.”
“I need more than that.”
“She fucking—I based Ginseng’s cat form on her, okay? She’s this enormously fluffy thing, mostly whitish with a brown face and legs, and it makes her look like she’s wearing a mask and thigh-high socks like God’s sluttiest little jester,” you said, knocking on your dorm’s mailboxes for luck out of habit as you passed them, “And you can’t tell Aizawa-sensei about her, because if she’s taken away the moment I find her, then I—”
“I have her,” said Tenko, “She’s in my dorm with me.”
You ran the rest of the way to his room, panting and absolutely disgusting by the time you got there, and when Tenko opened his door, there was Dango, loafing on the back of the couch and watching raindrops race down the window.
“What the fuck,” you said, dropping your wet coat and toeing off your shoes, “How the hell did she get in here?”
Tenko shrugged and hung your coat next to his hoodie. “Can she open locked doors?”
“I hope to fuck she can’t,” you said, and you rounded the couch to wrap your arms around that dear little loaf, and Dango jumped off the couch to crawl underneath it before you could fully hug her. “Oh, good. She’s fine. Acting like normal.” You sat on the couch’s arm, adrenaline evaporating to render you boneless.
“She was in my room when I came back from training. We ended early today, since Aizawa-sensei has something.” Tenko stooped to yank two bottles of gatorade from their plastic rings and headed towards the sofa to offer one to you. “She didn’t seem upset or hurt. She’s been sitting there, napping on and off.”
You accepted it and twisted off the cap. “So, who put my cat in your room?”
“Why would anyone do that?”
“I don’t know,” you said, taking a shallow sip, careful not to overwhelm your agitated stomach, “They’d have to know about Dango in the first place, and I suppose my stalker would, since they’ve theoretically been breaking into my room.”
Tenko paused mid-sip, and he hastened to swallow. “Someone’s been breaking into your room?”
“Yeah,” you said, easing down the arm of the couch and onto its cushions, “I think. There’s no physical sign of entry, but my shit keeps going missing, and stuff that’s not mine keeps showing up. Let me tell you, I need some of that shit they’ve stolen; it’s hard to replace—”
Tenko touched your lips with three of his fingertips to quiet you, and he gestured for you to stay put while he scrambled over to his closet, where he stood on his toes to retrieve a wicker basket from the top shelf. He dropped the thing into your lap. “Are any of these yours?”
All of it was, missing things you blamed on everything from Dango to your stalker to your own forgetfulness: your favourite sweater, your trolley pass, lip balm, your shitty earbuds, your good pantyhose, your planner, your d10, and, among many smaller things, even that bright blue thong you’d lost in the wash (Well. It’s better to find your thong with your new boyfriend over finding them returned to your dorm coated in your stalker’s cum, you supposed).
“I was losing my goddamn mind,” Tenko was saying, “Stuff kept showing up. I thought it was a test at first—”
“I don’t have a stalker,” you said, absentmindedly rubbing the fabric of your thong between your fingers, “Your shit has been—you read that GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK shit? Tenko.”
“Oh, you have that?” Tenko scratched the back of his neck, but not in his self-harm way; it reminded you of Shinsou’s nervous habit more than anything. “Haven’t you read it? Isn’t that what you were naming your characters after?”
“Ah, ha, ha. Moving on. What is important, though, is why and how this is happening to us.”
“Yeah, I don’t…”
The two of you spitballed for a while, long enough for the both of you to finish your bottles of gatorade and for Tenko to start another, and neither of you came up with anything substantial.
“Hell with it,” said Tenko, standing to stretch, his movement disturbing Dango from her nap in his basket of clean laundry, “Let’s go ask Aizawa-sensei.”
Aizawa was not pleased when he discovered the both of you waiting in his kitchen, but he listened to the story, and when you were done, he stepped out of the room to make a phone call. When he came back, he looked even more exhausted than when he’d first come in.
“I’ve just gotten off the phone with Sakura Grove,” said Aizawa, wincing when his bones creaked as he sat in his chair, “Tenko, do you remember villain in-fighting within the PLF? In particular, I’m asking if you remember breathing in a pink dust cloud. It would’ve been in Deika City, in the month between your fight with Re-Destro and your body modification surgery. If our sources are accurate, you would’ve been with Touya.”
Tenko scrunched up his face. “Why would I have been—hm.” Frowning, he reached into the bag of popcorn you’d commandeered from Aizawa’s cupboards. “I know what you’re talking about. They were only letting me eat healthy stuff in the week before I went under. Touya was taking me to scrounge for something salty and shitty for me, because I couldn’t take it anymore. He started hitting on someone he thought was a waitress, and she—this is why I remember it—she compared the width of her hand to his thigh and said no thanks.”
“That’s Ito,” said Aizawa, sighing and crossing his arms, settling his chin into his capture weapon, “When did she use her quirk?”
“She shoved her hand on Touya’s face when he opened his stupid mouth again, and he passed out with swarming, pink particles floating around his head. She turned to me—and she must not have recognised Touya, but she knew me, because her face lit the fuck up. She never touched me, but I remember having to sneeze.”
“She never told you what her quirk did?”
“I woke back up in the PLF headquarters. I assumed whoever picked me up had killed her and that her death negated any effects.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why? What does it do?”
Aizawa let out a soft laugh, muffled through his capture weapon, and he jerked his head in your direction. “You tell him,” he said, snatching the bag of popcorn and heading towards his bedroom.
***
He’d been nervous about wearing a suit. They reminded him of AFO.
But you’d strayed away from dark colours and too much structure, so his light greyish-blue suit jacket stayed unbuttoned even as you leant across to the passenger seat to adjust his All Might tie for him (a Put Your Hands Up Radio tie had been offered, but Tenko had already closed his fist around the striped tie Midoriya would loan him). Part of his bangs had been pinned back to show off his annoyingly handsome face, especially in how his sharp, red eyes observed caught every movement of your terrible attempt to tie the tie based on the pictures Aizawa had sent you.
“We’re not gonna be late, are we?” Tenko drawled out, the corner of his mouth quirking upward, hand resting on the car ceiling as he angled his chest towards you.
“Shush; we are in the parking lot,” you said, looping the larger end. Or were you supposed to be looping the smaller one? “Besides, the world won’t end if we’re a few minutes late to my class’s annual reunion.”
A flimsy excuse for a party, one made because hero agencies needed some sort of named event as an excuse to dismiss your friends en masse. But it was spring again, and they were coming out of the winter blues, and they wanted to see you again, so, hey, why don’t we work something in around your schedule? If you can’t come to this date, then we’ll reschedule it until you can.
And, like. They knew. They knew Tenko was your soulmate. You suspected they all wanted to see what he was like now, too, because no one but Shinsou, Midoriya, and, apparently, Bakugou had known.
You undid the loose knot and tried again. “Are you nervous?”
“No,” he said, scrutinising the tacky balloons and streamers swaying in the night breeze outside of the otherwise intimidatingly elegant venue, “but those kids might be.”
“Those kids happen to be friends my age,” you said, “and I’m barely younger than you are. They know you’re coming. You’re fine.”
Tenko sucked in through his teeth, tapping the roof of the car one finger at a time. “The last time they saw me was as a thing. An object of destruction.”
“Well, they’ll definitely see you as a human person when I spill how you designed a unicorn DND character for Eri.” You pulled the fabric taut but kept it from lying closely to his neck (a boy didn’t like feeling constrained). “You know what? This tie is as good as it’s gonna get.”
He ducked his chin to examine its knot. “It’s shit.”
“It adds to your devil-may-care, reformed-bad-boy sort of charm,” you said, giving the tie a final smooth-down and poorly suppressing your smile when you felt his muscles through his shirt. “Mathematically, there are only 85 ways to tie a standard tie knot. I don’t believe we’ve reached any of them.”
“How do you know these things? You’re unbeliev—” Tenko jerked his face out of view of the window as Aoyama and Kouda, gesturing wildly, strode past the car and into the venue. “Listen,” he said, clearing his throat, “I know I don’t care and that you don’t care, but other people will. Your reputation is gonna plummet right into its grave if we’re out in the open together.”
You shook your head, letting your smile show. “So, I fucked part of a rescue job almost a year ago. So what. So I’m dating my soulmate. Am I supposed to do otherwise? Honestly, Tenko,” you said, curling loose strands of hair behind his ear, letting your fingers linger around his cheek and neck (he leant into the touch), “I don’t care. I would’ve chosen you even without the soulmate bond. You’re too endearing to pass by. You’re too…babygirl.”
Tenko had been guiding your hand to his mouth, and he snorted before it got there, warm air scattering in a short burst. “Don’t call me that,” he said, pressing his lips to the centre of your palm and waiting until you met his gaze to retract them.
A different warmth shot to your lower stomach, but you had to keep pressing, for the sake of the bit. “Oh, then what should I—darling? Honey? Pookie bear?”
He scoffed and nipped at your pinkie. “None of those are good.”
“Tenko.”
He breathed in, shoulders rising, eyes fluttering shut. Taking a moment to kiss the tiny bite mark on your finger. “Yeah,” he said, opening his eyes in a slow blink, catlike, “Feels good. Feels—like coming home.”
Beaming, you reached down to lace his fingers through yours. All five of them squeezed back. “Then let’s go.”
soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou, @pachiibatt, @celestair, @tiredkittykat, @cheshireshiya, @90s-belladonna, @infjsnightmare
#bnha#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki/reader#shigaraki imagine#shigaraki fic#mha#shigaraki headcanons#shigaraki fanfiction#shigaraki fanfic#soulmates#soulmate au#soulmate#dash it all
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Another Shigaraki thought, because he’s living rent free…18+ MDNI
He’s been away with the league of villains for several days recruiting new members, during that time he’s not stopped thinking about you, about the way your skin feels against his and the way your breathy moans fill a room as he’s face down between your legs.
As soon as he arrives home and sees you, he takes no time to pull you into his arms, nose pressed into your neck to inhale your scent whilst whispering “I missed you” over and over into your hair.
Before you know it, your bodies are pressed into the mattress as he smashes his hips into you. Your legs are spread as far as they go, so he can fill you harder and deeper.
He groans your name loudly at the sound of your passionate pants. The way you clench around him makes his brain melt causing him to slam into you more erratically desperate to feel more of you. Sleep is no longer an option as the night is spent exploring each others bodies.
#anime smut#bnha fanfiction#bnha x y/n#bnha x reader#bnha smut#mha#mha smut#mha x you#shigaraki fanfiction#shigaraki x y/n#shiggy#shigaraki x reader#mha shigaraki#mha shiggy#league of villains#league of villians x reader#mha fanfiction#crush x reader#anime boy#mha x reader#mha imagines#mha league of villains#mha headcanons#mha not sfw#mha blurb#mha villains#mha x y/n#mha k#tomura shiragaki#tomura x y/n
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Your game or mine
Characters : Shigaraki Tomura/ Fem reader
Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Breast Play (reader is having fun with Shiggy's tiddies)/ Dry Humping/ Mating Press/ Cream Pie/ Squirting/ A Hint Of Fluff/ One Shot
Notes : This is your fault @fictionfordays 🤤
Banner by @/cafekitsune
Masterlist|Second Masterlist
_ "Cut it out already, can't you see I'm a little busy at the moment?" and he wasn't even looking up from his phone as he groaned his displeasure with your advances.
_ "But I'm bored! And you've been playing that stupid game for hours now." your whines were falling on deaf ears as he ignored you completely to get back to the mission ahead.
You sat up, crossing your arms over your chest and pouting in disapproval, how could he possibly focus on anything else after you've put in the effort to look irresistible to him? Was he truly unaware of your intentions? Even after crawling on top of him in a new sexy lingerie set that hugged your luscious body perfectly? Or did the phone glued to his face absorb the last few brain cells he had left?
No matter the reason, you've never been one to give in easily, and so..
_ "Alright do as you wish sweetheart, play your game, and I'll play mine." the smirk lacing your words was invisible to him, and the mindless "uh-huh" spilling from his lips, proved that he wasn't even listening.
You studied his sprawled out frame once more; comfortably sinking into the plush mattress underneath himself while crumpling the soft bedsheets with each little move he made.
Your eyes lingered on his bare flexing pecs, pale skin covering the protruding muscles beneath, and pink perky nipples begging to be touched.
You bit back a threatening moan as your gaze traveled down to his yet meek bulge, knowing all too well that one small caress would be enough to bring it to life.
However, he was clearly playing hard to get, so why not see how long he could resist?
You positioned yourself on his soft cock, neglecting the flimsy fabric of both undergarments separating you, and relishing the sudden flinch escaping him when you slowly rolled your hips.
_ "Y.. you're going to make me lose." his resolve was clearly faltering against your approaches, but his eyes were still fixed on the video game ahead.
_ "Oh I'm sorry love, I'll be more careful." you feigned innocence as soft giggles escaped your throat, placing your palms flat on his firm abdomen and trailing them up until you reached his chiseled bust.
You licked your lips and clutched onto the bulging muscles, giving him one teasing squeeze before relaxing your hold again.
Nothing yet, except for a suspicious tremble appearing under your fingertips. It was undeniably working.
You ran a finger along the deep valley of his chest, rolling your hips slowly on his awakening cock and smirking victoriously as he failed to conceal a frustrated groan.
_ "If I lose.. damnit.. I'll make you pay." he hissed gloomily, fingers still tapping away on his phone's screen while his body was getting more and more restless underneath you.
Any other person would be terrified hearing the symbol of fear rasping those words, but not you.
_ "We'll see about that Tenko." yes, definitely not you.
Your hands groped his godly breasts once more, kneading his flesh greedily before leaning in to lick a perfect stripe leading to his quivering throat where you sucked a bright mark.
_ "Fuck.." the word vibrated under your lips as it left him, and you were uncertain if it was due to your actions or the mobile game he was invested in. Regardless, you were having loads of fun on your own.
Your wet kisses traveled downward to join your hands and cover every inch of delicious skin encountered, you were eager –starved even– as your warm tongue sneaked out to flick on his cherry blossom pink teats.
Your hips moved a little faster on top of him, and your giggles resonated across the dimly lit room when he shallowly met your thrusts.
_ "Seems like I'm winning." you slurred between soft nibbles on his plumpness, peering under your lashes to witness the whitening knuckles as he gripped the device tighter.
He was fully erect by then, you could tell –you can always tell– and it was only a matter of moments for him to drop the pathetic charade and give you the attention you so much craved.
Your warm greedy maw engulfed one of his nipples, sucking on the hard nub like a thirsty little kitten while your fingers played with the other; flicking, pinching, ranking your nails over the prickled skin until he no longer could keep his aloofness.
You weren't done though, disregarding the hand leaving his phone to grip your hair as you switched your teasing mouth to the other teat. But all of a sudden, an alarming sound flared up to replace the rhythmic tunes of the game and announce your man's failed mission to clear the level..
_ "Alright, that's it!" was all he snarled out before placing the gadget onto the bedside table and grabbing your hips roughly to roll you on your back and hover over your stunned frame.
You blinked in pure confusion, striving to wrap your head around the swift change of your positions as his looming figure sent shivers down your spine.
_ "I warned you didn't I?" he did, and it was time for you to receive a proper punishment.
He gripped the back of your knees and spread your legs apart, his crimson irises blazed with fervent emotions that you could not pinpoint, while yours shamelessly ogled the conspicuous damp spot on his boxer briefs, wondering if it was your creation or his, and maybe –just maybe– it was a little bit of both.
You gripped the rumpled bedsheets and braced yourself for what was coming as he hastily tucked your legs up and pressed them to your reddening ears, "that's better.." he chuckled darkly before lowering his underwear just enough for his rock hard shaft to spring back against his abdomen, a heavenly sight that forced your cunt to squeeze around nothing.
Your longing for him was clear as day, and his gleaming eyes held an intense desire as he glanced at you once more while pushing your panties to the side, before smearing the leaking head over your sensitive folds and finally easing himself into your welcoming heat.
Your eyes rolled back in absolute ecstasy, and his name left your lips in a broken murmur as he stretched you perfectly around him.
He gave you no chance to adjust, retrieving his length until only the tip was sheathed within you, before slamming his hips mercilessly against your own.
His pace was unforgiving from the get go, grazing your insides deliciously with every deep thrust he delivered.
_ "Eyes on me angel, show me that beautiful face of yours, come on." he demanded huskily, tightening his grip on your legs and pushing them further against your chest.
His strikes were deeper and harsher from that position, filling your senses with a pleasurable pain you so much adored.
You weren't going to last much longer and neither was he, your earlier teasing and playful behavior had lead you both closer to a certain release, "Tenko, don't stop!" and he didn't, pounding even harder into your core while chanting your name like a mantra.
Your heart hammered in your chest and a thrilling heat pooled in the pit of your belly as he pushed you roughly into the mattress, his bruising clutches and erratic hips announcing his own imminent orgasm.
_ "I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Tenko please!" you tensed up beneath him as you mewled a warning, bracing yourself for the inevitable shockwaves of pleasure that washed over you only a moment afterwards, and whimpering unintelligibly as you spasmed violently and gushed all over yourself and him, soaking the two of you in a clear warm spurt before going limp underneath his persistent thrusts.
_ "Amazing.." his eyes traveled between your spent body and the mess between yourselves, clenching his jaw and panting breathlessly while the obscene sloshing noises intensified as he ground on you, "fuck! I'm cumming too!"
You shakily grabbed on to his veiny arms and dug your nails into his pale skin, wordlessly pleading with him not to pull out before spilling every last drop inside of you, and thanking the heavens when he ultimately understood.
_ "I got it beautiful.. fuck.. I got it." a strained smirk appeared on his lips as he replied, sinking into your slippery cunt and kissing your cervix with every brutal snap of his hips, once.. twice.. thrice.. and then a final lunge before exuding his thick pearly load and coating your clenching gummy walls.
He finally pulled out of you, placing your tingly legs onto the stained bedsheets, and collapsing on top of you with a satisfied heave leaving his chest.
_ "We made a mess Tenko." your tired laughter stabbed at every fiber of your pained figure, but you were blissed out; being entangled with him while sharing a few joyful instances, forgetting everything outside of your room and pretending to be in a typical relationship with a typical man— even for a little while.. it was your own paradise.
_ "This was courtesy of you angel, and we'll have to do that again soon." a soft chuckle was lacing the muffled words tickling your shoulder, and a pair of eager lips trailed gentle kisses along your skin before nuzzling the curve of your neck.
Yes, your own paradise..
#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki headcanons#shigaraki imagine#tomura shigaraki x you#tomura shigaraki x reader#tomura shigaraki headcanons#shigaraki tomura x you#tomura shigaraki smut#shigaraki smut#shigaraki tomura smut#tomura shigaraki imagine#shigaraki fanfiction#tomura shigaraki#bnha smut#mha smut#bnha shigaraki x reader#tenko shimura x reader#shimura tenko x reader#shigaraki fluff
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Diabolical Dealings
A/N: first time writing Shigaraki, I tried my best. I probably neglected Dabi a little too much and made Shigaraki absolutely disgusting. This was wayyy longer than I intended. No beta read, non-canon plot (ish).
Synopsis: reader is a police officer and stumbles into something she shouldn't have. Dabi x Shigaraki x Reader
Warnings: where do I even start lol. Heavy non-con, humiliation, implied murder, kinda violence/blood, shigaraki is gross (sorry), implied kidnapping, yandere (kinda?), spit, forced orgasm, oral, threesome. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Word count: 10.2K
A gust of wind whistled across your face, making your eyes flutter shut as dirt and stray newspapers skidded along the sidewalk. Despite the frigid air that enveloped your body within seconds - you were boiling hot. Your skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, dripping over your furrowed brow and down to the pavement. It was shortly after twelve in the morning and you had just begun your nightly rounds of your assigned area. It was cold and dark. Your path is barely illuminated by the flickering street lights and LED store signs. It was only enough to see a couple yards in front of you, everything else hidden by the eerie shadows of darkness.
There were hundreds of other things you’d rather be doing right now; staying home with a microwavable meal on your lap while you watched your favorite show was one of them. Being called in and roaming the streets was last on your list of things to do on a Friday night.
Your phone rang an hour ago while you were occupying your time being curled up on the couch, with a hot bowl of curry beside you. You had just begun to settle down, only to get interrupted.
You knew you had to answer when you saw the Chief’s caller ID reflect onto your gloomy face.
Begrudgingly, you answered. His voice was stressed when he asked if you could come in for the night, explaining that there had been a few more attacks than usual tonight, and that the Heroes needed the extra hands to apprehend the villains they defeated.
Reluctantly, you agreed. You weren’t a fan of working nights and opted for working days to lessen the hassle of transporting villains back to headquarters, where they would be dealt with before they were shipped off to Tarturus. It was a relatively easy job during the day, but the night only amplified the difficulty. With limited civilians and heroes, you had to be extra cautious.
If it wasn’t your deep admiration and dedication to the job - you would’ve said no. But alas, here you were, fulfilling your duties in the dead of night.
“How are you holding up, (last name)?” A muffled voice filtered through your radio, startling you slightly as you reached to unclip it from your belt.
You backed up towards a brick wall, casting a few glances around before you answered your partner. “I’m fine. Doing one final sweep before I head over to Endeavor and Jeanist.” You radioed back. “Are you alright?”
“Relax, (last name). You’re doing great.” You thought the shake in your voice was hidden by your false sense of confidence, but your partner saw straight through the mask. “I’m catching up with Gum soon. Almost finished my rounds too.”
You sighed, closing your eyes and wiping the sweat from your forehead. You were too tired for this shit. You wanted to meet up with Endeavor and Jeanist, sooner rather than later. They were Pros and had quirks, unlike yourself. Better yet, you just wanted to finish the assignment and retreat back to the safety of your apartment.
“(last name)? Are you there?” He asked, your shaky hands clinging to the small device as your brain kicked back in to register his words.
“Sorry, I’m here.” You swallowed. “That’s good. We’ll meet up later? Maybe grab a coffee after the shift change?” You perked up, knowing how desperate your body was for some liquid fuel right about now.
“You bet your fucking ass we will. Radio me if you need anything. I’ll be around.” He buzzed out, leaving nothing but the sound of static sizzling in the air.
You clipped your radio back to your belt, still resting against the bricks to give your tired feet a chance to recuperate. You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You’re going to be fine. Everything is okay. You repeated the reassurances in your mind, forcing yourself to calm down.
You pushed yourself up, brushing out the crinkles that formed in your uniform and started to press on. The sound of your footsteps echoed as you walked along the pavement, your head turning to give quick glances down the alleyways and side streets. Nothing out of the ordinary caught your attention, which seemed strange considering the Chief explicitly said tonight was unusually active.
You chalked it up to the increased presence of the heroes, knowing that most small-time villains would avoid these areas because of them. They never lingered in one place for too long. The fear of catching the attention of a Pro and getting apprehended usually deterred them. Granted, it wasn’t out of ordinary for a smaller villain to test their luck and linger about anyways. They usually opted for petty crimes like vandalism and theft, which would make for quick escapes if needed. There was no shortage of those types, unfortunately.
Despite this, you noticed there wasn’t much of a disturbance tonight. You certainly weren’t complaining, but the anxiety continued to gnaw in the back of your head. You were specifically on edge since there was so little happening in your area. That could mean one or two things; the heroes scared all of them away, or that there was a bigger threat lurking about.
Villains were similar in their enjoyment of public disturbance, wreaking havoc, and causing panics. But not all Villains were the same. The ones that committed thought-out malicious crimes usually deterred the pettier Villains. There’s always bigger fish in the ocean.
But what would you know? You weren’t an expert, but you had picked up on a few things from your years in the field. Your skilled understanding of villains kept you alive, but you weren’t going to gamble with it.
You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You repeated, changing the subject in your mind to something a little more pragmatic. You weren’t about to ruin your streak of luck with your panicked thoughts. You continued on, looking forward to the coffee stop you promised your partner. You hoped that when you met up with Endeavor and Jeanist, that they’d just send you off home, but those chances were slim.
You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You hummed to yourself as you rounded a corner, poking your head out to give a quick check.
“I’m not wasting my time on these pieces of trash. They make for better kindling than recruits.” You heard a deep voice rasp from afar. The sound came from afar and echoed off the tall brick walls, which made it even more difficult to distinguish.
A civilian? You thought, furrowing your brows. Maybe? But why would they be wandering in an alley at this time of night? They didn’t sound too friendly either. You gripped onto the edge of the wall, tilting your head in the direction of the barely audible voice.
“Can’t be surprised, this world is rotting from the inside and it makes me sick.” The second voice was higher pitched and much more strained than the first.
Your subconscious must have realized that they were a threat before your mind could, because you felt a tingle run down your spine and goosebumps crawl up your neck. Definitely not friendly.
You could hear the first man scoff and what sounded like footsteps, but nothing else. It appeared that they were retreating deeper into the alley to continue their conversation. You weren’t too keen on the idea of finding out where they were going - or what they were doing. Deciding that it was better to not push your luck, you backed away from the entrance and reached for your radio.
You weren’t a detective, and you weren’t about to start acting like one just because you were curious. You needed to radio your partner and inform him immediately on what you stumbled upon, even if you weren’t sure what you found. They could just be some lowly villains, but you had a protocol to follow.
Moving further away from the opening and deeming yourself to be at a safe distance, you pulled out your radio.
“Sam?” You whispered, bringing the device up with shaky fingers. “Are you there?”
There was a hiss of static in response and you slapped your palm over the speaker.
“Sam?” You asked again, your voice sounding a little more desperate as you waited for a response. It couldn’t be helped, but you were beginning to feel a little anxious. It wasn’t like him to leave you hanging like this, especially for a night like this. He made it a habit to always pick up when you called.
There was an off chance that he was caught up in dealing with something, but you wanted nothing more than to hear him say anything. You rested your forehead on the tips of your fingers, letting out a shaky breath. Your mind wanted to be rational with the thoughts, but you couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of worry at his silence.
Swallowing hard, you decided this was something you were going to have to deal with later. It would be better off to ignore the rest of your sweep and just meet back up later. “If you can hear this, I’m making my way back over to everyone. There w-”
A sudden burst of blue flame erupted from the alley beside you, catching you off guard and forcing a scream out of your throat. Your radio slipped from your fingers and crashed onto the pavement, cracking from the blow. You narrowly dodged the attack - your legs reacting before your mind could even fully process the situation.You hit the ground hard but corrected yourself by rolling onto your knees and into a crouching stance. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as it started to pump faster at the wall of fire next to you. If you were a few seconds slower, then your entire side would have been fried.
The muscles in your chest grew tight with each breath, forcing you into a state of hyperventilation. Move. Now! Your nerves ignited with a fury of terror and forced you out of your frozen state. You scrambled to your feet in less than a second and bolted down the sidewalk without a second thought. Heroes. Get to the heroes. You no longer cared about how loud your footsteps were, since whoever attacked you knew exactly where you had been. You were positive that if they wanted to kill you, they would’ve. They wanted you to run, and you were going to do just that.
If it weren’t for the fear, you surely would have collapsed. You never ran faster in your life till now and you didn’t stop, even when your lungs started to burn and ache. You had to keep going. That fire quirk was a long ranged attack, which was bad as is. You didn’t want to waste time dwelling on catching your breath.
The muscles in your legs strained as you bolted down the sidewalk, pumping them as fast as they would allow. Your breathing was uneven, borderline hyperventilating due to your climbing fear. The adrenaline was enough to keep you going, passing by several side streets and alleys as you tried to put some distance between yourself and your assailant.
You wiped your eyes, which were stinging with sweat and momentarily blinding you.
“Where ya’ going in such a rush, doll?” The voice sounded bored, uninterested really.
You skidded to a stop, feet sliding against the pavement in attempts to slow yourself. Your gaze moved up to follow where the sound was coming from, noticing a man resting lazily against an alleyway entrance. Your eyes widened and your lips parted to let out a surprised puff of air. You were not expecting the man to catch up to you so quickly, let alone be in front of you. This certainly took you by surprise and you felt yourself take a precautionary step backwards.
He held out a singular finger with a blue flame hovering at the tip of it, flicking his eyes back and forth between you and the subtle glow. You could barely make out his features, only a hint of light being emitted from his index. You did, however, notice the textured skin that was stapled together with the living skin. It couldn’t be. You thought as another wave of panic rushed over you.
He must have noticed your realization because you saw him smirk wildly before extinguishing the flame in his fist.
Engulfed in darkness, you turned and sprinted away. Your body once again acted on impulse as you ducked into the alley beside you. No. You weren’t going to die. You thought. This wasn’t going to be your end. You promised your partner that you would have coffee together. You promised to visit your parents more. You still had your whole life ahead of you. You weren’t going to die .
With as much speed as your body could handle, you ran deeper into the dark unknown. You knew that you had to get back to the Pros, but whether or not you’d be able to was inconclusive. Your main focus was escaping, but it seemed easier said than done. Nonetheless, you carried on, jumping over stray bags of garbage and debris.
The sound of your thumping footsteps were loud, but your heart hammering against your rib cage was even louder. The organ pumped viciously to fuel your aching limbs with blood, even reaching up to thud in your ear canal. It was only when your eyes landed on a second shadow emerging from the darkness that you spun back around. No. This wasn’t happening. Your feet slid out from under you at the sudden movement, but you quickly corrected yourself, spinning on your heels and darting back towards the mouth of the alley. You ran blindly, in hopes of getting away from both assailants.
You glanced back, noting the shadow stalking after you. No. He wasn’t in a rush. He was taking his time chasing you. His pace was slow and intimidating, purposely drawing out every ounce of fear that he could produce from you. It was only then when you realized your mistake. Your attention returned to the freedom which was illuminated by the flickering street lights. You were just shy of reaching it, maybe a few meters or so. You can do this. The dim light faded as a large figure stepped in front of it, blocking the exit and causing you to gasp. Fuck! Your body was moving fast - too fast for you to stop yourself in time.
The man made no sound as you collided head on with his body, dull pain shot up your chest, making you yell out in surprise. Instinctively, you tried to pull away, fear fuelling your body into clawing and fighting back. His arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you closer, holding you still against him. His other hand grabbed a hold of your flailing wrist, keeping it planted against his chest in some sort of stance that could only be compared to two lovers embracing.
“Let go of me!” You whined, only to feel his grip tighten.
You looked up at him with widened eyes, finally getting a good view of him. You really wished you hadn’t. Your eyes scanned over his face, noting all the scar tissue he had beneath his eyes and along his jawline. The damaged skin was stapled together with the healthy parts, creating some sort of ugly patchwork job. It was also the first time you had been this close to him, and you never realized just how warm he actually was. He heated your skin up like a furnace, warmth seeping out of his clothes and into yours.
Dabi. You heard about him, or rather, read. His pictures were plastered all over the newspapers in Japan.
One side of his lips curled upwards as he looked down his nose at you. You couldn’t tell if he was smirking or snarling at you, but you didn’t really care. You began writhing in his grasp. You kicked at his shins and punched his chest with your free hand, attempting to twist out of his hold.
He didn’t even flinch at your attacks, his only reaction was to laugh at you. His chest rumbled as he kept you pinned, sending a wave of nausea up to your throat. Your face twisted up in anguish, gasping as you placed a hand onto his chest to shove him off. He was hot. So hot .
“Let go of me!” You repeated again.
Seeing how your punches weren’t doing much - you opted for crying out and raking your nails down his chest, catching and pulling on his staples. This time, he let out a low hiss and let go of your waist, moving to grab your other wrist to stop your assault.
“Aren’t you a little treat.” He rasped. His eyes narrowed down to yours, turquoise orbs watching as you tried to take a step back, so you were no longer touching him. He didn’t seem to care for your distaste, knowing that there wasn’t anything for you to do.
You gave him a frightened look, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. You had seen him in the newspapers before, but he was even more terrifying up close. His staples reflected in the moonlight, and his eyes were practically glowing. While he was looking at you with a lazy expression - you could see hints of something you couldn’t quite place. Excitement? Boredom? There wasn’t much time for you to contemplate your next moves, because he was already spinning you around. His chest pressed into your back, while your arms were twisted across your torso, effectively pinning you.
It took you a couple seconds to stabilize yourself, blinking rapidly as you tried to adjust your swaying vision. The fear crawled up your esophagus, threatening to drown you as you became overwhelmed with terror. Calm. Calm. You repeated in your head. Slipping into a panic attack would do little good in your situation, but managing your nervous system was always a challenging task.
“Relax, doll, I got you.” Dabi’s words provided you no comfort - instead, adding fuel to your hysterics.
Your attention snapped back to the end of the alley when you heard a second set of footsteps approaching. Dabi and your fear kept you facing forward as the second figure sauntered towards you. Pale blue shaggy hair was the first thing you noticed, along with the vibrant red shoes that stuck out like a sore thumb in the darkness. You couldn’t really see his eyes, which were blocked by his mop of hair, but you knew that he was staring right at you. His steps reverberated around you - each syllable striking more fear in your heart. It felt like you were counting down the moments to your demise, unable to stop the shiver rolling down your spine. Instinctively, you inched backwards, a pitiful attempt of escape that only drew you closer into Dabi. Your back pressed into his chest, so close that you could feel every grove and staple on him.
The man in front continued honing in on the two of you with precision and intent. Granted, you would have fought sooner if you weren’t so trapped in a daze. However, as the figure became clearer in your line of sight - your eyes settled upon his arms, which were covered by hands that were severed at the wrist. Shigaraki. Reality came crashing down on your head like a ton of bricks. Your nerves coming back with a vengeance - lighting up with such a ferocious drive that you bucked back into Dabi.
“Looks like we’ve caught ourselves a little mouse.” Shigaraki snickered. He halted his movements, hands placed inside his pockets as he studied you. His eyes trailed up and down your figure, as if he were trying to gauge whether or not you were truly a threat. With your cowering expression and quivering form - it was obvious that you weren’t. You were a poor little cop, just trying to get through a shift, and had the back luck of stumbling into something you shouldn’t have. Stupid girl.
You knew the full extent of how much danger you were in right now, the terror creeping into your bloodstream and controlling every aspect of your being. No matter how many hours of briefing and training you had received, you couldn’t ever be prepared enough to handle this. Part of you prayed that your partner - no, the Heroes - would come to your rescue. You knew this wasn’t a situation you could handle on your own, it never was to begin with.
Beneath the mess of hair, his red eyes were almost glowing as looked down at you, mixing with both disinterest and disgust.You inched back slightly, as if the few centimeters would actually protect you from whatever they were going to do. It was a weak attempt that only drew you closer to Dabi - who merely glanced down his nose at you.
Dabi could practically feel the terror radiate off you as he held you, knowing fully that you were thinking of every possible outcome. He noticed you had been shaking before, but with Shigaraki closing the distance on you, your body was almost vibrating as you pushed yourself flush against him. It was entertaining in a sense - you were so scared of Shigaraki that you resorted to gluing onto him for refuge.
“I don’t think she likes you very much. She’s shaking like a leaf.” Dabi bent down closer to you as he spoke, but his words were not intended for you, instead they were directed at Shigaraki.
“Are you scared of Shigaraki, doll?” You can feel his nose prod into the side of your head as he continues to taunt you.
Your body stiffens but you don’t give him a response. You were absolutely horrified. But you feared that displaying any more emotion would further instigate the situation. You could only pray that they just wanted to freak you out a bit, and then hopefully let you go. However, the instincts in your gut and the way they were both looking at you told you otherwise.
“That’s too bad, isn’t it? ” Shigaraki caught your attention as he scratched his neck, eyes boring down onto yours. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to stare back, watching as his blunt nails raked down the dry skin of his neck. “She brought this on herself by meddling in things that don’t concern her.” He looked up to Dabi for a brief second, silently communicating something you couldn’t understand till the last moment.
Oh, no. You repressed a shudder as Shigaraki looked back down at you, the scar on his lips twitching as he smirked.
Before you could respond - or even blink for that matter, Dabi released your arms and shoved you towards his leader. Your arms shot out in attempts to brace yourself as your feet tripped up beneath you, unable to keep pace with the sudden force. A tiny gasp slipped past your lips as you fell forward and into Shigaraki. This is it . You thought. Your eyes slammed shut as you awaited for the embrace of death, expecting to be turned to dust as soon as he touched you.
But you didn’t.
Instead, you found his arms encircled around your waist, pinkies raised to prevent the accidental use of his quirk. You let out a puff of air as your cheek sandwiched against his chest, instantly engulfed with the odor of musk. With your arms completely immobilized between his body and yours - you couldn’t pry yourself away.
“Please. Let me go. I d-didn’t hear or see anything.” You sucked in a shaky breath as you began to plead for mercy. Inadvertently, you sniffed the material that you were pressed against, letting out a strangled cough at the rancid smell that belonged to Shigaraki. Your face scrunched up with such distaste and anguish that even Dabi noticed.
“She really doesn’t like you, eh? Just look at her. She looks like she’s going to puke.” Dabi chuckled at your expression, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.
You peered back at the flame Villain, almost as if you were trying to beg him to help. Silently, you tried to bargain for your life, casting a teary-eyed glance to Dabi. You knew this was futile, but you were willing to do just about anything to get away from Shigaraki and his destructive hands. Dabi barely gave you a second look, but knew instantly what you were trying to do. He kept his face impassive as he ignored your non-verbal pleas. There was no way he was going to help you in any way.
You whimpered, turning away when you realized there would be no sympathy from him. Obviously. Instead, you managed to press your palms flat and hard into Shigaraki’s stomach, pushing lightly in hopes of creating some much needed distance between your body and his.
“Is that right?” Shigaraki hummed and jerked you closer to him, seeing your fight as merely an annoyance rather than a threat. Your elbows buckled and you crashed into his body again. “The pretty little cop wants to get away from the disgusting villain?” He gritted as he felt the side of his neck prickle with an itch, the anger beginning to surface at your obvious revulsion of him.
He’d gotten used to the disgusted and false pity stares that society condemned him to - but there was something about your pretentious attitude that irked and made him itch incessantly. The pitiful look on your face reminded him a little too much of how corrupt this world was and how much he wanted to destroy it all. It was clear to him that you absentmindedly aligned yourself with the same views of the Heroes - like a little puppy, blindly following orders from its master. Shigaraki’s thoughts were cruel as he conjured up ways to make you squeal like the pig you were.
With a sadistic grin, his fingers reach towards your chin, gripping it between his thumb and index before tilting your head up to meet his gaze. You noticed he had rings of dry skin around his red eyes and lips, which were peeling, cracked, and had a scar straight across. It had to be a side effect of his quirk - something his body used as a coping mechanism. The sight of him brought you no comfort as you tried to wiggle out of his hold again, pushing at his torso with your palms when he lowered his head to your ear.
“Careful now. You wouldn’t want all my fingers to accidentally touch you with all that squirming, now would you?” He drummed his fingers against your waist, timing it perfectly so that all five of his pale fingers wouldn’t come into contact with you. “It’s not a nice way to go, officer. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”
Your blood ran cold as you stilled yourself, paralyzed by his words and the feeling of his fingers thudding carefully against you. With one simple change in rhythm, you’d be dead. The thought of your life dangling in the arms of a murdering psychopath didn’t do any good for your state of mind. And neither did the sudden feeling of his lips pressing into your hair, which had come undone from its usual ponytail - thick locks tumbling out to frame your pretty face.
“Oh, god. Please, just let me go.” You whispered, wide-eyed and begging.
Shigaraki snickered at your frozen form and took his opportunity in making you feel uncomfortable. His nose poked against the side of your head as he took a deep breath in, shuddering at both the scent of your lingering shower products and your soft mewl of desperation.
“I radioed my partner and he knows where I am. He’ll be here any minute now with backup. Please, let me go and no one has to get hurt.” You found yourself using a new tactic, one you hoped would buy you your freedom.
Shigaraki snorted, blowing a puff of air into your hair. “Radio?”
“It wouldn’t happen to be the same one I saw a few blocks back would it, doll?” Dabi spoke up suddenly. “The shattered one?” He teased with a knowing smile.
Your body stiffened in Shigaraki’s arms and you swallowed. “Yes, that’s the one. It's a protocol for all of us to be in constant communication about our whereabouts. He knows exactly where I am.” You lied smoothly, keeping your face as neutral as you could.
“I don’t think your partner, or anyone for that matter, will be coming for ya’.” Dabi pressed on, leaning lazily against the bricks as he eyed you.
“You’re wrong. Sam will be-” You made the unfortunate mistake of saying his name, too wound up to stop yourself in time.
Shigaraki started laughing suddenly, pulling his face away from you as he let out an unhinged cackle. Confusion washed over your features and you paused, unnerved by the high pitched sound from above you.
“Saving you? Is that what you think?” Shigaraki’s voice was lowering in pitch as he calmed himself from his laughter. “You poor thing.” He mocked. “He couldn’t even save himself. It’s pathetic if you ask me!”
Within seconds, your demeanor had morphed into complete and utter hysterics upon hearing those words. You shook your head violently, fat tears beginning to gather in your eyes as you tried to come to grips with reality.
“What? No. You’re lying. That can’t be…” You whispered as your head began to swirl with apprehension.
“Did you wanna know how Sam cried and begged for his life before I decayed him? Choking and clawing at his own throat.” Shigaraki continued, his lips pulling into a manic smile as he watched the tears roll down your cheeks.
“You’d think someone sworn to protect and serve the public would put up more of a fight, but no!” He took the chance to mock your employment motto with glee, shuddering at your look of despair.
“Geez, you really are an ass.” Dabi mumbled with a roll of his eyes. Whether or not Dabi thought Shigaraki was pushing you too far was irrelevant, because in his own twisted sense - he was enjoying it.
Shigaraki was too occupied by your suffering to pay Dabi any mind.
“You’re fucking insane! He was a good-”
“Good or bad, you and heroes still thrive on violence, just like us. Only difference being that the Heroes are filled with empty ideologies and a false sense of justice that make them foolishly believe that they’re society’s guardians. it's disgusting .” His voice ascended in pitch as he spit the words out like they were poison.
You had been staring blindly at your feet as Shigaraki tormented you with his words. Despite your unmoving stance, your vision swam and clouded with tears. You could barely keep yourself upright as you tried to clear your head. It felt like you were drowning. The muscles in your throat tightened with each swallow. Gone, your partner was gone. Every fiber in your body wanted you to run, scream, and cry, but you remained still and unmoving.
Oddly enough, the sadness in your body began to shift into something more akin to rage. It felt like the switch inside your brain had flipped and you were overwhelmed with cool, shivering hatred. It was all too much. Shigaraki’s hands are still grasping onto you and Dabi’s cool eyes are studying you, but you feel a drift from your body, as if you were just an onlooker.
Murderers. They were murderers.
For the first time in your life, you felt your resolve crumble. You wanted them dead. You wanted them to suffer. They didn’t deserve to be walking and breathing, when your partner was a pile of dust in one of these alleys. He didn’t deserve to die, but they did .
“All quiet now aren’t-”
“What would a villain know about justice? You murdered an innocent man!” You spat, craning your neck to glare right at him. Shigaraki glanced back down at you, not expecting you to speak. “Destruction follows everywhere you go; killing, stealing, and thriving on fear you cause. And you’re delusional enough to think we’re disgusting?” You hissed up at him with so much anger that your body shook. “We protect-”
You screeched when a hand weaved through your hair, suddenly jolting your head back to an unnatural angle. Your neck strained in this position, feeling as if the bones would snap if you didn’t follow his movements. Your pupils blew wide as Shigaraki leered over you and seethed with anger, his extended pinky shaking as he looked to be fighting the urge to dust you. His jaw was clenched as his wild eyes locked onto you. Still angry, you repressed the urge to spit in his face.
“It seems like you’ve forgotten who’s in charge here. You better tread carefully bitch, I’ve killed people for less.” He sneered as his grip tightened to make his point. “You’re stuck living in a fairy tale, unable to see the corruption and rot that your system has caused.” Droplets of spit hit your face as he spoke, rutting his hips against your own to gain back the upperhand in this situation. He wasn’t about to let some idiotic brat like you outsmart him. No. He was the one in charge here. He had all the power. And he was going to make sure you knew it.
Dabi sighed, wanting to speak up before Shigaraki lost complete control and decided to dust you. “The Heroes will fall from their pedestals, even if we have to knock them down one by one.”
You kept your eyes locked with Shigaraki, challenging him silently. You were certainly playing with fire right now, but your mouth was operating on its own accord, not even the lingering threat of turning to dust able to stop the words from coming out.
“The only ones who will fall are y-”
Your voice cut short as Shigaraki sloppily collided his mouth with yours. The awkward action took you by surprise and you gasped against him. Instantly, you were swarmed with his stale breath and cracked lips, planting your fists onto his chest to push him away. He groaned into you and you could tell he was unskilled by the way he messily moved his lips and prodded you with his tongue. The kiss was wet and warm, liquid building up in your tear ducts as you squirmed violently. You had emotional whiplash at the situation, as you were positive he was itching to kill you just a few moments ago, and now he was slobbering all over your mouth.
You caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bit down hard . The skin broke beneath the pressure, your mouth immediately filling up with the bitter taste of his blood as it pooled onto your tongue.
Shigaraki released your hair with a feral growl. It was his turn to be surprised at your brazen behavior, stepping back slightly as his fingers touched his chin before examining the liquid dribbling down his chin.
You glared back at him and against your better nature, you spat the remaining blood in your mouth, hitting the pavement near his feet. “You’re nothing but a petulant little child - crying and whining when you don’t get your way. It’s pathetic.” You hissed, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.
Shigaraki looked at you through rage filled eyes. He should have expected this reaction from you, but figured that you were more bark than actual bite. His chest rising and falling at a pace that indicated he was ready to kill. He could feel every nerve in his body buzzing with adrenaline and anger, aching to pounce and watch your body crumble to dust. Oh, he was going to make you regret that.
“You’re in trouble now, little bitch. I’ll bring you to heel like I should’ve done from the start.” His lips pulled back into a snarl as he stepped forward.
You could see the malicious glee radiate from his darkened gaze, forcing you to take a step back to avoid it. He could’ve caught you in a mere second, but he found pleasure in your look of anger quickly turning into fear as he matched your retreating steps. Shigaraki could practically feel the anxiety coming off your body in waves, sending a sickening shudder down his back. He didn’t usually find pleasure in anything besides destruction and death, but there was something about you that made him want to savor this - despite your bratty demeanor and fake brave facade.
He giggled - high pitched and threatening as he advanced on your trembling form. He never found close contact to particularly be one of his favorites, but he’d make an exception just for you. Shigaraki knew there was no escape for you, which was emphasized by Dabi creeping forwards.
“Get away from me, freak!” You shrieked out of surprise, too focused on Shigaraki closing in on you to notice that Dabi had settled behind you again.
He wasn’t going to let crusty have all the fun, that just wouldn’t do.
“Ah, ah ah. You aren’t thinking of running again are you, doll?” Dabi rasped and you instinctively spun around to face him, meeting his crooked smirk with a grimace of your own.
Dabi stepped forward suddenly, and you stumbled back, brain swimming before you realized Shigaraki was directly behind you now. He took this opportunity to catch you by the collar of your uniform, all five fingers coming into contact with the soft fabric. The material instantly began to unravel and disintegrate into thin air, leaving you in nothing but your bra and a thin layer of dust.
“What are you doing!” You cried out, backing away into the wall between them. Your hands covered your chest in attempts to protect your modesty. Your breathing only escalated at this point, your bare chest doing little to hide the rise and fall of your panicked state.
Both men scan over you, but it's the feral look in Shagaraki’s eyes that scare you the most. You back against the wall, leaning away as he takes slow paces towards you. He hated you, you knew that, but there was a lingering appearance of longing hidden deep within his crimson eyes. It was terrifying when he was angry, since it was so clearly displayed, but this was something completely different. This lustful expression was chilling, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
Shigaraki continued until he was only a few inches in front of you, his ebony fingers reaching out to touch your face. His gaze followed the swell of your breasts for a moment, before settling back up to your face. You thought your heart was about to explode out of your chest when you watched Shigaraki’s tongue wet his dry lips. He didn’t need to say anything for you to understand this action, and you started to feel light headed. Your hand balled up into a white-knuckled fist, pulling back slowly to hit his smug face.
Dabi must have had an idea of what you were about to do, because he launched forward and caught your wrist, ending your attempt prematurely with a click of his tongue.
“As much as I would’ve loved to see that, I don’t think it would be wise, doll.” Dabi wrenched your arm back down to your side and placed himself behind you - standing guard with his hands on your shoulders, in case you decided to try it again.
Sandwiched between the two villains, Shigaraki grinned as he moved to run his hands along your waist, his pinkies rising just above your shivering skin. “If you don’t drop that attitude, I’ll have to force it out of you, sweetheart.” You much preferred when he called you a bitch, or anything besides that sick term of endearment.
You held yourself straight, begrudgingly allowing his fingers to trace small patterns. You focused on keeping your face straight and looking directly past him as if he weren’t even there. Shigaraki noticed this and became slightly annoyed at your ignorance. This just wouldn’t do. His palm rested flat against the material of your bra, dusting it just like he had done with your shirt.
A soft sound rumbled in your throat and your eye twitched, but otherwise you said nothing. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. You chanted to yourself, repeating the reassuring words to ground yourself.
Dabi laughed. “Stubborn little thing isn’t she?” He settled his chin in the crook of your neck, causing you to try and shift away, which succeeded in little as Dabi wrapped his hand around your throat. “It looks like we’re gonna have to show ya’ some manners, doll.”
“She’ll learn.” Shigaraki tipped your jaw up with a single finger, watching you through his lashes.
“Don’t touch me.” Shigaraki crouched down, his face level with your stomach. He paid no attention to you as he pressed his tongue flat against your stomach, feeling you shrink back and let out a sharp exhale.
Wet, hot trails of saliva littered up your torso as he dragged the muscle all over your skin. You did your best to remain still at his assault - commanding your body to adhere to your orders had never been such a struggle till now. You had been managing fine, until you felt his tongue prod closer to the top lining of your jeans. The appendage was too close for your liking, resulting in your hips unconsciously shifting backwards from the searing heat.
Dabi let out a pained groan when your ass came into contact with his erection. The brief contact made him twitch and his hand tighten around your neck. He watched you out of the corner of his eye, noticing that you were biting your lip. With his free hand, he pushed the stray hairs away and settled his lips against the curve of your neck. You had been so focused on Shigaraki that you nearly forgot about him - jumping slightly as he pressed open mouthed kisses at the base of your neck.
While the action was not welcomed, the feeling of his lips against your skin made your head fall back into his shoulder. Satisfied with your reaction, Dabi let out a breathless laugh. You could feel the moisture of his breath on your neck, making your eyes flutter shut.
Shigaraki peaked up at you, grinning devilishly as he moved to grab your breasts. His thumbs ran over your peaked nipples before he latched his mouth onto one of them. His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin, causing you to push your chest closer to him. Shigaraki hummed to himself, hollowing out his cheeks to leave dark bruises. He couldn’t hold back the saliva that pooled in his mouth and instead, he let it collect all over your skin. He’d make sure you’d regret calling him disgusting.
“Stop that!” You snapped your head downwards to glare at Shigaraki - narrowly missing Dabi’s head in the process.
Shigaraki pulled away with a giggle, a line of spit connecting his lips to your nipple. “And what makes you so confident to tell me what to do?” He stood to his full height now, towering over you and causing you to bump back into Dabi. “The pretty little cop, all alone with the ugly villains, thinking she can give demands.” Five fingers skimmed across your pants, making them crumble to another pile of dust at your feet.
Your eyes met with Shigaraki, who let out another snort of a laugh. “Don’t move now, I’d hate to ruin the fun by accidentally killing you.” He teased, his fingers looping under the band of your panties as he pulled them down your legs.
His fingers skimmed down your thighs to prove his point, and he began to kiss and lick at your skin, noticing that you were trembling now. With your panties out of the way, he brought them up to his nose and sniffed at the center, his eyes shutting at your tangy odor. You almost keeled over at the sight below you, but Dabi kept you upright with a sharp tug.
“You’re not keeping those are you, creep?” Dabi asked, his lips curling back at Shigaraki’s actions.
“Shut up and hold her still, crispy.” He shot back, tucking the last piece of clothing you wore into his pocket with an annoyed growl.
Dabi rolled his eyes and reached around to grab onto your waist, steadying you as Shigaraki lifted your leg up. You swayed slightly and took hold of Dabi’s forearm, your nails digging into his coat as you tried to balance yourself.
“I got ya’, relax.” He spoke, annoyance riddled in his voice.
Shigaraki moved his attention to your cunt, which you tried to hide by shuffling your foot inwards. He didn’t mind nor care for your refusal, noting that he would deal with it later. He was too consumed with lust and excitement, drool beginning to pool on his tongue at the sight of your mound.
“You sick fuck. You’re not act-” Shigaraki gave you no time to protest as he dove mouth first into your cunt. He latched onto you, his tongue awkwardly poked around at your folds, almost like he didn’t quite know what he was doing. Nonetheless, the sudden intrusion caught you by surprise, causing you to snap your jaw shut.
You could feel his lips curve upwards, the taste of you sending a spike of blood to the tip of his cock. His mouth moved messily against you, sucking in attempts to get more of that sweetness he craved. It was pure bliss. He never imagined you’d taste this good.
His tongue swept up to your clit, which caused you to flinch. He repeated the motion again, this time circling harder over it. You keened into his mouth, involuntarily letting out a small moan at the feeling. Shigaraki snickered against you, focusing his assault on that same spot which made you flutter and gasp. He propped your leg further up, gaining better access to the gathering heat of your pussy.
“Oh, god. S-stop-” You blubbered, arching back.
The sound of your whimpers and soaking heat made him growl, he wanted nothing more than to replay those pretty sounds over and over. His face pressed harder into you, quickly learning where to focus his tongue to make you cry out and gush over his mouth. Your lips parted into an ‘O’ as your hips unconsciously bucked into his face, taking Shigaraki by surprise at your sudden eagerness.
His tongue lapped over your clit a few more times before he buried it into your hole, tasting and sucking the slick that dribbled out. This time, you moaned louder. Shigaraki sucked and lapped at you, drawing out noises that you’d never thought would come out of you. You could feel just how wet you were getting, the skin of your cheeks flushed with a bright blush, stinging beneath your eyes as you soaked his face.
“That’s it, doll. Let it all out.” Dabi began kneading the flesh of your breast as he cooed softly in your ear. His own erection was straining against the front of his pants, poking you in your rear each time you moved.
Shigaraki placed two bony fingers at your entrance before shoving them in hard and fast. His knuckles slammed into you as he fully sheathed himself inside, drawing out a sharp cry. You were not prepared for this and you felt yourself clamp down hard. He continued to slurp at your clit, enjoying the feeling of his fingers barely fitting. He pulled his fingers out slowly, watching his fingers shine bright with your slick.
“You’re pretty soaked for someone who doesn’t want this.” He examined his scissoring fingers, slick connecting his pale digits together before he licked them clean. “You like my ugly face buried in your sweet cunt, don’t you?” Shigaraki placed a chaste kiss on your thigh.
“How’s that ego doing now?” Dabi teased, pinching hard at your nipples. “You’re gushing all over that creep.”
You gritted your teeth together in humiliation. You didn’t know if it was Shigaraki’s or Dabi’s taunting that sent you over the edge. Either way, it was Dabi who was going to suffer. You snapped your head back to connect with Dabi’s chin, eliciting a sickening crack at the sudden contact. He didn’t expect you to pull such a stunt, especially now of all times. He let out a deep snarl of anger that vibrated against your back, before releasing his hold on you.
“How’s your face?” You hissed back, struggling to keep yourself steady. The rattling in your skull didn’t help your now wavering balance, as you were still standing on one leg.
Even with your pussy hovering only a few inches in front of his leader - you were still acting like a brat. Dabi glanced at Shigaraki, who was watching you closely before nodding towards Dabi.
“Down, bitch.” Dabi growled.
Simultaneously, Dabi kicked the back of your knee with his booted foot and Shigaraki let go of your leg. Your knee immediately buckled and you let out a cry of surprise as you lost your balance. Your hands shot out in attempts to stop yourself from falling, but you were too late. You collapsed to the floor, landing hard on your knees before Dabi kicked you into Shigaraki’s lap.
Once again, he caught you, glancing down at you with a smile as you tried to peel yourself off his body.
“It’s game over now, brat.” You continued to struggle in his hold, your palms lifting up to push at his shoulders, but Shigaraki was quick to catch you. His slender fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and tilting his head to give you one last look before forcing your face to his groin.
Despite his lanky appearance, he was quite strong and easily managed to subdue you. Your eyes squeezed shut as Shigaraki let out a low groan, reveling in your helplessness and the feeling of your nose pressing against his clothed erection. Your fists dug into his thighs as you tried to push yourself up, your arms shaking in exhaustion.
Shigaraki gave you another shove, forcing your head back down. “This is nice, don’t you think?” He rubbed small patterns in your hair, carefully tucking his thumb against his palm.
Your eyes stung with tears of humiliation, your ass perched up perfectly for both his and Dabi’s enjoyment. Inadvertently, you breathed in, once again overwhelmed with his musky smell. You let out a quiet sob, the tears burning as they slid down your cheeks.
“She looks much better from this angle.” You heard Dabi rasp from behind you.
With the little strength you could manage from this angle, you turned your neck to look back at him. His attention was focused on the round of your ass, and you could see him palming the front of his jeans. The lewd action made you sob, which Dabi noticed and made him smirk.
Shigaraki was studying you from above, his crimson eyes soaking in every bit of your reactions as he leaned back on his heels. Oddly enough, the look of disgust on your face managed to turn him on even more . His scarred lips cracked into an unnerving grin and he pulled you up by your hair to meet his gaze.
“I want you to suck it.” He ordered.
Your stomach dropped at his words and you felt the tears finally start to stream down your cheeks. “Please…” He gave you no time to beg, already stripping himself free of his pants and guiding you down.
You find yourself hovering directly above his cock, staring at it with widened eyes. You didn’t know he’d be this big. You swallow hard and tentatively reach out to stroke him, your fingers barely managing to wrap around his girth. He lets out a sharp hiss of air at the feeling of your soft hands and bucks forward. Another choked sob escapes your lips and your tears fall onto his legs as you continue to stroke slowly.
Shigaraki lets out a disgruntled growl and tightens his grip on your hair. “I told you to suck it, idiot.”
Shakily, you stick your tongue out and run it over the tip of his cock. The mix of his sweaty skin and precum leaves a salty taste on your tongue, making you cringe. Your mouth parts more as you try to adjust your jaw for his size, but Shigaraki was impatient. His hips suddenly jut forward and you gag, feeling his entire length force its way into your throat. Your hands slap against his thighs and you begin to breathe through your nose. Shigaraki lets out a low moan at your throat clenching around him.
Tears blur your vision and snot runs down your nose. Shigaraki didn’t care, too wrapped up in the pleasure of your wet mouth sucking him off. You were his toy now, and he was going to do whatever he pleased with you.
Dabi could feel his dick twitch with every whine and strangled gasp you made. The confinements of his jeans were getting a little too tight for his liking, so he made quick work of unbuckling his belt and freeing himself. He trailed two fingers up and down your slit, smirking as you slick gathered on his digits. A squeak traveled up your throat, muffled by Shigaraki’s cock stuffing it full as you felt Dabi’s fingers prod at you.
“You’re drenched, doll. Are you enjoying this? Hm? Getting raped by two Villains at the same time?” Dabi’s fingers pushed past the tight muscle of your pussy, embedding them deep inside you. He curled his digits up and brought them in and out slowly, shuddering at your suffocating walls tightening around him.
Your throat vibrated with a low moan, saliva pouring out the sides of your mouth as you could no longer hold it in due to the girth of Shigaraki’s cock resting against your tongue.
“You’re so fucking tight, but don’t worry, I’ll stretch ya’ out.” His fingers left your sopping hole before you felt something much larger settle against you. Your eyes widened and you tried to pull away from both of them.
Shigaraki hissed as your teeth grazed against him, the foreign feeling causing him to jerk forwards and deeper down your throat. You pitifully looked up at him, eyes bloodshot from crying and gagging.
The distraction allowed for Dabi to plunge into you, fully bottoming out and slamming against your cervix. You immediately screamed, eyes wide and unseeing as your back bowed to the ground.
“Fuck! That’s it.” Dabi had you by your hips, keeping you pinned while he rocked towards you.
Your core burned in anguish, giving you barely any time to adjust to his size as Dabi’s cock dragged up and down your walls, moaning as your pussy greedily sucked him in. You felt like you were going to pass out, both of your holes stuffed beyond their limit and catching you out of breath.
The sight almost made Shigaraki bust his load down your throat, but he managed to suppress it. He wasn’t about to prematurely end this little game just because he couldn’t control himself, so he pulled himself out of your mouth with a wet plop. The tip of his cock throbbed painfully, deepening in color with the amount of blood arousal pumping to the head.
You gasped like a fish, gulping down as much air as your lungs could handle. Oxygen had never tasted quite so sweet until now, considering you were on the verge of passing out. Your hand shakily moved up to wipe your nose and mouth, grimacing when Dabi bottomed out again. Your chest bounced with the swift force, giving Shigaraki a clear view from above.
“What a mess.” He kept his hands on your head, silently warning you not to move.
You struggled to keep pace as Dabi’s movements refused to slow. With your mouth freed, Dabi took the opportunity to make you scream. The enlarged head of his cock slammed back into your cervix, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that had you heeling over Shigaraki’s lap. You clawed at his thighs, digging your nails into his skin.
“Please! It hurts!” You sobbed, but dared not to look back, knowing that you’d only make things worse for yourself.
“Begging now?” Dabi grunts, “It’s not like you can do anything about it- just relax and enjoy it.” He says between breaths, struggling to keep his voice steady. The depth of his strokes make you cry, and you try to crawl away. You don’t get far, Dabi sees to that by dragging you back with a growl.
“I-I can-can’t. Please, stop!” Dabi’s arm moves to cradle your stomach, his other hand dipping down to your cunt, eagerly searching for your clit. This angle only draws him in deeper, but the soft circles that his fingers trace along your clit lessen the pain. His steady rhythm and lingering heat of his fingers make it harder to control the building pressure. You weren’t sure who you hated more, Dabi or Shigaraki. Both of them could rot in hell .
“Does that feel nice?” Shigaraki coos. The knotting in his stomach is calming down, and he's almost ready to watch you choke on his cock again, but your not so subtle attempts to hide your pleasure has him enchanted. The way your eyebrows twitch and mouth open in awe almost make him bust at the sight.
Ever so slightly, he tilts your head up with a gentle tug. Obediently, you open your eyes, briefly noticing his scar twitch as he opens his mouth. A string of spit falls from his lips before you can close your mouth, landing on your tongue while the remnants drip down your chin.
“Swallow it.” His eyes challenged.
“Ngh-” Your eyes fluttered shut, throat clenching as you swallowed it back. Gross.
“Good girl.” Shigaraki was done with his mind games. He lined himself back up, confident that he could last slightly longer.
You granted him access, kissing and licking at him in hopes that he’d cum quick. Your tongue pressed flat on his underside, rubbing up and along the vein that thumped with each stroke. You knew he was getting close, and so were you. Dabi was working quicker on your clit, your body ignoring every cue from your brain to stop. You had no control, and felt the effects of your orgasm wash over you. You tensed, clenching down on Dabi and making him groan, eyes rolling back at the feeling.
“That’s it, doll. You’re- gonna make me-” Dabi hissed, following your orgasm with his own moments later. He’s never come that fast before, and to be honest, he was a little embarrassed.
You moaned, feeling the heat of his cum drench your insides. Hot. It was so hot . He twitched as he filled your pulsating cunt, drawing out a handful of curses from him. You cried out, muffled sounds escaping your mouth. Tears soaked your face as you rode out your high, feeling Dabi pull out of your sopping hole and release you. A mixture of his and your own cum ran down your thighs, causing you to shudder. He stayed behind you, in case you had any bright ideas while he was stuffing himself back into his pants.
Shigaraki laughed, rutting himself against your face, taking you by surprise as your nose collided with his pubic bone. You let out a strangled cough, slamming your hands onto his thighs as you struggled to breathe through your blocked nose.
“I knew you’d be fun -ah- knew it.” Shigaraki pushed your head so far down that you gagged, tears overflowing and blurring your vision.
His hips thrusted forward, releasing a low growl as he spilled himself down the back of your throat. You coughed, quickly swallowing it all back in fear of your body accidentally spitting it back up. It was salty, and felt heavy as it traveled down your throat and settled in your stomach.
The moment his hand left the back of your head, you threw yourself away and wiped your lips. There was a lingering taste of him invading your tongue, which you knew would take you months to wash away.
Curled up against the wall, you shielded your head in your arms, tucking yourself behind your shivering form. You didn’t bother looking up when you heard their footsteps, instead, you remained still and awaited death.
“It seems like your time wasn’t wasted afterall.” You heard the familiar rasp of Shigaraki. He wasn’t talking to you, but you could feel a tinge of something in your gut at his words.
You felt something crouch beside you, peering over you like a hawk. You tilted your head slightly, glancing up at Dabi as he examined you. “Not the type of recruit I had in mind, but she’ll be useful.” He patted your head, brushing matts of hair away from your eyes. “In other ways.”
#yandere#long reads#reader insert#yandere dabi#dabi smut#shigaraki smut#my hero academia#yandere shigaraki#league of villains#tw: noncon#shigaraki x dabi#shigaraki x y/n#dabi mha#shigaraki x you#shigaraki tomura#dabi todoroki#dark fantasy#heavy smut#shigaraki fanfiction#dabi fanfic#my hero fanfic#dabi x reader#mha shigaraki#tomura shigaraki#dabi x y/n#my hero academia shigaraki
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How does Shiggy react to a darling who developed Stockholm Syndrome?
Shigaraki Tomura
TW: NSFW, captive darling, Stockholm Syndrome, ish benevolent sexism
fem reader
You kissed him a little while back.
It was strange, as though you’d forgotten yourself – lost yourself in the heat of the moment. But no, it had been deliberate and long-lasting – earnest and needy even. And had rendered him both speechless and in a panic.
He’d entered the room in a rigid mood and woken you up with a bite to your ass. Pulling your thighs snugly around him with his cock already swole between them – tugging your panties down your thighs while you were still rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a yawn.
You’d learned rather quickly never to fight him. He’d punish you with bitemarks and no food, and ultimately you grew too weak to reject him anyway. So your casual acceptance wasn’t anything new where you patiently awaited getting fucked – lying on your back while looking down at his fat member disappearing inside you with only a tiny moan slipping free from your lips.
You took him obediently as you’d done for a while – without protest. The only difference occurred after he’d twisted the two of you around so you could straddle and ride him. You’d pressed your naked breasts into his chest and taken his face in your hands – gently as you rolled your hips without guidance – and then, right before the kiss, you’d said, so very softly, “I missed you today… it’s boring here without you~”
Your voice was sultry, kissing him tender yet deeply – pouring sweet moans into his mouth while your hands tangled in his hair.
You’d traveled to his neck after, and he came as soon as your tongue licked the scars found there – digging his fingers into the plush of your hips, keeping you seated as he spluttered all his worth inside you.
He’d been in such a state of post-shock that he’d rushed out just after. Leaving you.
Kurogiri had pointed out his blush while he sat at the bar, mulling it over with a bottle of brown in his grip. He shuddered, recurring the feeling – your pillowy wet lips on his, those words leaving your tongue, your hands playing with his hair, pulling him close. His chest felt tight, just as tight as the furrow between his brows.
Dabi sat down a couple of stools away sometime later in the night. Often, Shigaraki would abstain from engaging in conversation with the guy, but really, at least in this case, he was the best choice of any to ask for input. After all, they weren’t all that different. Actually, when it came to basics, they were both pretty similar – same-aged, ugly, and ridden with family issues from scars to fractured memories.
Dabi gave him a dumb look, his brow raised as though to ask what he was staring at after noticing his side-eye.
“You still have the same girl?” He jumped straight to it.
Dabi’s dumb expression turned dumber. Confused, maybe not so much by the question itself but by why the boss was even talking to him. But most emotions are like matches for Dabi, and they burn out before they’re able to light any fires. Soon, the usual sense of disinterest washed over him, and his face eased up into that chronic jaded look.
Shigaraki nearly lost patience, reminded once again why he couldn’t stand the guy – rude as ever and so slow it made his skin itch. But then he gave his answer, “Yeah, I still have her.”
“She difficult?” Shigaraki followed up.
And Dabi took his time once again, hauling out the seconds before offering his answer in a drawl. “No, Stockholm Syndrome kicked in quickly.”
Shigaraki let it settle - Stockholm Syndrome – before looking back at his drink and repeating the thought once again. Stockholm Syndrome.
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” He mumbled then.
Dabi sighed, taking a swig of his beer. It was already the third one, but he’d only been sitting there for about half an hour. “Not really…” He disagreed. “Most girls are better survivors.”
It was Shigaraki’s turn to look dumb, looking puzzled as he stared down the barrel to his bottle – in wait of an explanation – almost as though he was under the impression it was the drink who was speaking and not the patch-faced raven-head sitting beside him.
“They learn quickly to accept what will keep them safe, and then, they find solace in whatever they can to maintain their mental health as well…” Said raven-haired guy continued – then he scoffed. “Boys fight until they break. Leaving them a shell of what they once were. But girls don’t have the same pride.”
He swirled his bottle, stove-top blue eyes lazy, looking at the last of his drink storm with waves inside the green glass.
“They leave themselves behind and become someone new.” He offered a dry chuckle, and Shigaraki spotted the unsightly way his staples only barely held the split of his smile together. “It’s actually kind of scary.” He finished before downing the last gulp, setting the bottle down with a bang.
He swung off his stool, shoving his hands down his pockets, and walked away – his back turned.
“If I were you, I’d embrace it, boss. Despite what we try to believe, that shit feels best when it’s given willingly.”
Shigaraki sat there a moment longer. Long enough to get cut off by Kurogiri, who told him drinking anymore would be a bad idea.
When he got back to the room, you were sleeping again.
He stood and stared at you for a moment.
Was this a game you were playing? Was it a joke?
You’d pulled on one of his hoodies. And upon a closer look, you hadn’t showered either…
Strange of you to leave his cum inside you...
But thinking back about it, you hadn’t been so distant with him for a while already. You’d been trivial – conversational – even chirpy, if he could call it that.
Was it like Dabi said? Had you reached your breaking point for loneliness, leaving him to be your only resource? Or had you accepted the circumstances and willed yourself to play along?
He didn’t know, but the doubt stormed an upset in his mind as he lifted the covers and laid down next to you. But despite the exhaustion, the lure of sleep still wasn’t enough to make him close his eyes – he was stuck staring at you, mapping out all those qualities that make up your pretty face.
So deep in his studies, he nearly flinched when your eyes fluttered open.
A small smile graced your lips soon after. “You’re back…” You murmured, eyes softly blinking at him before you scooched closer – shimmying yourself over to him until you were all the way up against his chest, nuzzling your head against his collar with sleepy sounds of comfort. Resting there for a blissful moment before purring out a sweet “Good night~”
But he couldn’t sleep that night. Too busy listening to your soft snores – feeling the clingy way you clutched his cotton T-shirt.
He couldn’t bring himself to touch you either. For a long while – it was as though he was… scared almost. Freaked out by your doting – that way you’d hug him when he entered through the door – placing kisses on places he wasn’t used to – his cheek, his forehead, his neck, his knuckles.
Grabbing his sleeve. “Don’t go, Tomura…” You said once when he had his hand on the doorknob and the key halfway twisted in the lock. “Please… don’t leave.”
His throat went tight. It had been like that for a while – ever since that first kiss, actually, he’d been unable to talk to you – unsure what to say.
But you hadn’t the same issue.
“You haven't touched me in a while…” You continued, taking his hand away from the doorknob in both yours, playing with his fingers – bringing it up to your face – you cuddled it like he’d not threatened you with his touch many many many times before. “Are you bored with me?” You asked instead of the obvious, keeping him at a loss for words. “Or… have I scared you away?”
You? Scared him?
Your lips brushed his fingers as one of your hands made a slow descent – making him jerk with a gasp as it went straight to cup his groin – tender yet firm, giving it a squeeze.
“Is there anything I can do to make you stay?” You said coyly, eyes doe-like but kittenish all the same, with a pouty and small smirk playing on your lips before you bit into them – brows cinching, giving him a flirty pleading expression. “Please, Tomura?” You said his name as though it didn’t belong to him. “It gets so lonely here…” You kissed his palm. “Won’t you give me a proper goodbye, at least?”
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❦ FAWN
cw: mature, fem!reader, reader is a stripper, language, slight touching, slight autassassinophilia (aroused by the risk of being killed)
PART 2 | MASTERLIST
it wasn’t always easy or safe work, but the security made sure that customers didn’t touch you and if you didn’t feel safe, they would walk you to your car after your shift ended. unfortunately, this protection withered whenever giran showed up, he walked in like he owned the place, and maybe he did because his connections and evil doings had everyone in his pocket. you always hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t call on you for a dance. if he showed up during your shift, you tried your best to avoid him. simply put, you were scared of him.
when he entered one night alongside a scrawny guy with dirty, blue hair, and cracked, rashy skin, you did your usual thing, kept your head down and danced on the other side of the floor. but when giran caught your eyes and sent a grin, your stomach turned. but you had to go over when he beckoned you.
despite your eyes being trained on the floor, you could see him patting his lap for you to sit down. after a quick and pitiful look from the waitress, who put the two drinks between the imposing men, you let him lead you onto his leg.
“what’s your name, pretty girl?” his breath was hot on your neck.
“fawn.” your voice got drowned slightly in the loud music, but giran seemed to have heard you fine.
“fitting.” he’s fingers danced over your legs as you shook slightly. “i like my meet a little fresh, how ‘bout a dance?”
“giran.” a scratchy voice called.
it was the younger, scrawnier, man giran brought with him. his piercing red eyes locked with your scared, bambi-like ones, it shot fear into your veins like pure heroin.
“give her to me.” he didn’t bother breaking eye contact with you.
giran laughed darkly.
“‘ve never seen shigaraki interested in a girl.” he pushed you off his leg and you yelped. he pat your butt to push you towards him. “why don’t you give him a little love.”
your legs wobbled as you made you way over to shigaraki. despite you looking down on the sitting man, his gaze made you want to shrink away. though, you couldn’t, cause his hand came out to pull you onto his lap instead.
“you think i’m gonna eat you?” he asked quietly.
you shook your head softly.
“i don’t like liars.” his head turned towards giran. “you’re scared of him?”
“terrified.” you squeaked and shigaraki chuckled hoarsely.
his dry fingers drummed against your hip one by one.
“you think you’re safer with me, huh? guess you don’t know who i am.”
the blood in your veins froze solid. a conversation you heard in the changing room a while ago floated through you mind as you recalled who this man was. shigaraki tomura.
you couldn’t have picked a worse person.
“you’re shaking.” his breath made the peach fuzz on the back of your neck stand up.
it couldn’t be helped, you squirmed slightly on his lap, overly aware of the pads of his fingers against your body. three and four. the thought that within a second you could crumble to dust sent your adrenaline spiking. the fear you felt for giran could not be any more different than what you felt right now. heat pooled in your stomach, you felt yourself wanting him to place another finger on your skin—just to feel the terror again.
“can i see you?”
shigaraki was quiet for a moment before his let go of you.
in earnest, you turned around to straddle him, arms pulling his hands back onto you’re body as soon as possible. his face showed slight surprise as he looked into your eyes.
“you’re a fucked up little lamb, aren’t you?”
#shigaraki x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#shigaraki x y/n#shigaraki smut#shigaraki x you#shigaraki fanfiction#mha shigaraki#shigaraki headcanons#mha smut
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Shigaraki was hit with an aphrodisiac quirk and you help him out
Tw: Blackmail, noncon
You rubbed where your ass hit the hard dust covered floor, wincing in pain. Why kurogiri couldn’t have warped you onto the mattress a few feet away you’ll never know.
Oh wait, you will and do know. Because one quick glance showed you that it was currently occupied by a blood covered Shigaraki, groaning in pain with his back turned to you.
You needed a second to process where you were, having fell through a roof portal only seconds ago unexpectedly, but once you got a good look of your surroundings you were met with a wave of terror.
This is your boss’s room. He never lets anyone into his room. Never. And there he was, in the bed only like a foot away! In a moment he could see you and kill you for trespassing! Why would Kurogiri warp you here? Was he trying to get you killed?
You staggered onto your feet, ready to make a break for the door, but as soon as you took one step a familiar dark fog rose to block your path. Shit, so now you were trapped. With him.
Kurogiri saw your heavy breathing as you began to succumb to a panic attack. You didn’t want to die. Not now. Not here. It’s not even your fault. You just got warped here at random.
In a frenzy you made scripts of pleas and apologies in your head for when Shigaraki will eventually wake up, your heart skipping a beat whenever he shifted uncomfortably.
“Miss y/n please calm down.” Kurogiri tried to reason. “I need you to be calm so you can help him.”
“Why the hell should I be calm?” You whisper yelled. “I mean I’ve barely met this guy and now I’m in his room and soon he’s gonna-…wait…did you say help?”
Kurogiri nodded, turning Shigaraki over so that he laid on his back, his chest rising and falling quickly as he panted. He groaned again, his head rolling onto his shoulder as his knees lifted off of the bed in stress.
“I’m sorry I warped you on such short notice, but this is an emergency that only you can resolve. I know you’re in shock but I need you to help before he takes a turn for the worst.”
You tried to wrap your head around this information, mind spinning from all the new feelings and responsibilities flooding your brain. He had barely given you enough time to think and now you had to help with some emergency.
You took deep breaths, steeling your nerves as much as you could before shakily replying. “Ok…ok…just-what do you need help with?”
Kurogiri took the blanket covering Shigarakis lower half and pulled it down to his knees. There, pressed against his zipper, was the largest erection you’ve ever seen in your life.
A scream got caught in your throat as you looked up and kurogiri in horror at what he was about to propose you do. Instead you let out a small squeak of terror as it twitched when he groaned once more.
Sure, Shigaraki was attractive. But you never thought of him this way. Never thought of doing this, to that, ever. So being maybe a foot away from his rock hard boner was really causing you quite a bit of stress.
He hand even told you what you needed to do but you already had your answer. “No. NO! Absolutely not.” You yelled, wanting to run to the bathroom to pour bleach in your eyes but being once again blocked by his devilish guardian angel.
“Miss y/n please calm down! I would not ask this of you in any other circumstance but this is an emergency, which, if not acted on soon, could be fatal. I’ll explain in detail what happened as soon as you begin pumping him.”
“P-pumping him?! You want me to-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence. “No. I don’t care just let me out!!!”
Suddenly Kurogiris voice took on a sinister tone. One you’ve never heard before.
“Miss y/n. When you joined the league you made a verbal contract never to purposefully sabotage the league, Shigaraki, or any missions provided to you. Right now you are disobeying all three, and will leave me no choice but to terminate you if you do not reconsider.”
You gulped. “Fine, fire me. Like I’d rather work for a perverted freak.”
“You misunderstood.”
Misunderstood? You mulled his words over in your head before realizing just what he’ll be terminating. Oh.
“S-s-so if I don’t jerk him off… you’ll kill me?” You asked, meekly.
“Correct.”
The same scream once again lumped in your throat, and you gulped down the bile tickling your esophagus before reaching a shaking hand over.
Reluctantly, you smoothed your hand over his clothed package, applying just a whisper of pressure as you groped him lightly. He let out a soft moan, shifting a bit as you attempted to stroke him off through his pants.
“Skin to skin contact, y/n.”
Shit. Ok. Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.
You quickly pulled the zipper down and undressed his crotch unceremoniously, not wanting to idle. His erection sprung from his black jeans, slapping against the back of your hand and making you flinch away.
Just as the size of his tent implied, he was big. Hairy too. It reminded you of a big ol’ sausage standing upright atop a light blue hedgehog. It bounced a little when he twitched, visibly pulsing. Even in shock you were able to admire his length, being much prettier than you expected.
You held your breath, why you weren’t sure, before wrapping your fingers around it. It was surprisingly warm and slick, being coated in his pre which acted as a lube as you slowly glided your hand up and down his shaft. He moaned again, this time a little louder, and curled his fingers into a loose fist as you continued.
Every time you jerked him your hand bounced a little from his fluffy little landing pad. It was a little greasy, sure, but it was surprisingly soft, and the fuzzy feeling actually helped you forget the situation you were currently in, if not for a little while.
“A little faster please, y/n.”
The deep monotone voice of his brought you back. Oh, right. You fasted your pace, your hand now jerking him at an even pace, making his hips jump in surprise. He groaned once more, but did little else.
“So… why again am I doing this? You said it was… an emergency?”
He cleared his throat, staring off into the corner, obviously wanting to avoid having to look at his god-sons dick.
“Yes. You see, Shigaraki had already gained many deep wounds in battle, and has lost large quantities of blood. This was bad enough already, however, he had also been his with an aphrodisiac quirk with an unknown duration.
“This caused the majority of the remaining blood he has to travel to his… nether regions, instead of his head, causing him to fall unconscious. As you can see, he still hasn’t woken up, and it is suspected he still won’t until enough blood is returned to his-“
You unintentionally started to tune him out, more focused on the faces Shigaraki made whenever you squeezed gently at his tip, than his important monotone blabbering.
As grossed out as you were having to do this, you had to admit his mewls were becoming music to your ears. The way his blush covered his face in lustful red was transforming into a delicate piece of art before you. One you want to hide away from everyone else so you can have it all to yourself. It’s adorable. But, you know, you still wouldn’t be doing this if you had a choice. Obviously. Definitely.
Kurogiri noticed you stopped listening, his voice trailing off awkwardly as you both let the wet slaps of Shigarakis dick in your hand and his unconscious moans fill the room.
Clearing his throat, kurogiri summarized. “Essentially, the aphrodisiac quirk in addition to his now small quantity of blood has made him unconscious. So it is your job to make him cum so that he can begin the recovery process in peace before his brain starts to shut down from lack of oxygen. By whatever means necessary.”
You nodded, before his last words fully kicked in causing your eyes to widen and your hand to falter.
“Y-you mean… I might have to…?”
Kurogiri cleared his throat again. “No. You will have to, judging by the fact that you’ve been jerking him for what, 10 minutes? And he hasn’t even come close. This is life or death y/n, you must speed up the process.”
Reminded of the dire situation, and the dire consequences of your potential failure, without thinking you swiftly leaned down and wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking harshly enough that your cheeks hollowed.
His hips jumped right off the bed in surprise, and he let out load groan that gradually turned into a whimper that reverberated around the room. He twisted and moaned as you sunk your vacuum of a mouth further down his shaft.
You bobbed your head, taking your mouth off of him for a sec to get some air only to shove him down your gullet once more. You sucked and licked with all your might, doubling over him like a wild animal.
You were ashamed of how hesitant you were before. The seriousness of the situation had finally kicked in for you, and you scolded yourself for lolly gagging instead of gagging on his lolly for so long. You just hoped you weren’t already too late.
No, no you’re sure if you just stimulate him as much as possible right now you’ll be able to make him cum before his brain shuts down. You just need to focus on the now, and doing all you can for the near future.
You almost smiled when you felt him pulse and his legs tense. Finally, he’s close. You suck with all the strength you have left, going up and down on his cock swiftly as you beg him to finish with your mouth.
His whole body shook in your grasp as he exploded in your mouth. Instantly you were struck with the harsh bitterness his cum had, tasting like battery acid. Dude needs to work on his diet. And even so, despite your nose crinkling and your eyebrows furrowing at the taste, for whatever reason you could not bring yourself to pull away. In the moment you were sure it was out of adoration, but in reality it was from the anxiety of earning another strike from Kurogiri.
Finally he stilled, his hips falling back into the scrappy mattress as he let out a hearty sigh. You released his cock from your plump lips with an audible *pop* and peered up at him to see if he had regained consciousness in that whole ordeal. He had not. How? You’ll never know.
Still, your work here was done, and without a word you rushed out of his room once kurogiri gave access to the door. You were a flustered mess, cheeks red as you sped off to your quarters and buried your face into your pillow. You can not believe you just did that. You can not believe you just did that.
Back in Shigarakis room, his eyes fluttered open immediately once he heard the door slam. He smirked, wiping the “blood” off of his forehead with his finger and putting it in his mouth. Ketchup.
He cackled, tucking himself in and zipping his pants before turning to Kurogiri.
“So, did ya get it?”
A misty black appendage emerged from under the black mist, taking with it Shigarkis cellphone.
“Yes, I did.”
The gotten thing in question was explicit videos and pictures of you doubled over his lap like an animal, all taken discreetly under a thin cloak of mist.
Why did he order Kurogiri to get these? Well, it all started the other night in the bar. Him and Dabi had gotten quite tipsy, and somehow the conversation had gone to you. You were the hot new recruit that was ignoring all advances made by Dabi, pissing him off royally.
Shigaraki mocked him, of course, to which Dabi replied that if he couldn’t get a blowjob from you, there was no way in hell Shigaraki could get one. Not seconds later, the bet was made.
If Shigaraki could get a video of you sucking his cock, Dabi swore on his mothers life that he’d wear one of Togas school girl outfits with pigtails for a day. No rules as to how or when, just that your lips had to touch his cock. And now, his efforts have paid off and then some.
Truthfully, he probably didn’t have to make up such a complex story for his condition, but he’s nothing but thorough, and admittedly had some fun coming up with the ruse.
He yanked his phone back, checking the footage and smiling deviously as it came back clear and focused, before sending it to dabi along with a cocky text.
“Pay up, bitch.”
Dabi had had a shit day, exhausted and numb with sleep as he finally settled down into the shitty mattress he called his bed, only to be woken up by his phone buzzing.
He grumbled in annoyance as he picked up his phone to check, ready to send a harshly worded message to anyone crazy enough to text him at like 3 in the morning. When he saw what it was, his eyes widened and he felt all tiredness leave him and be replaced by dread.
No fucking way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BONUS~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What do you think boss? Pink or blue?” Toga chittered, holding up some hair bands.
“Blue, definitely. It’ll match the skirt-t-t-t hahahahaha”Shigaraki couldn’t help cracking up at the end, not being able to keep a straight face due to Dabis contempt expression. He said nothing, only letting out annoyed grunts and growls when Toga tugged at his hair. His eyes, however, told a story of regret.
Toga giggled, yanking Dabis hair harshly, making him hiss, before bunching it into a messy pigtail. She did it again on the other side, and once she was finished she walked to Shigarakis side and marveled at the finished product. Dabis limbs hung limp in shame, legs kicked out in front of him as he resigned to his fate. He looked like a doll.
Pictures, of course, were taken. But honestly, it was a price Dabi was willing to pay to get those videos of you. No matter how humiliated he felt then, it was nothing in comparison to how you felt when he sent those pictures to you. How your eyes widened and tears gathered in your eyes. How you desperately tried to explain yourself but obviously realized how unbelievable your situation was.
How you begged him not to show anyone, most of all Shigaraki so he didn’t think you willingly molested him in his sleep or something. How you didn’t even wonder how he got those photos in the first place.
How you succumbed to Dabis blackmail and finally, finally agreed to recreate that scandalous video with him in order to keep him from ruining your reputation.
Now that was priceless.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know I say this a lot but I’m really sorry this took so long. I had a hard time writing this tbh, getting writers block near the middle and having trouble coming back to it. But, it’s finished, and like usual it might not be exactly what you asked for (I had a little fun with it). Hope you enjoy!
#shigaraki tenko#my hero academia#shigaraki fanfiction#my hero academia shigaraki#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x y/n#boku no hero academia tomura#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki smut
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also absolutely ruining tomura whilst he's at his desk playing games god I miss s1-s3 him so baaad 😭 please god. sitting on his lap. can u imagine
Smut. 18+. Biting.
You’re not exactly surprised when you’re kidnapped by the League of Villains. As the sister of a prominent hero, you always knew something like this could happen. It’s a threat understood by everyone closely related to heroes. You are surprised, however, by the fact that none of them have mistreated you.
They tied you up in what looks like a bar, and the members take turns “babysitting” you, as they call it (even though you’re a college student). None of them have been particularly rough with you. They let you go to the bathroom when you ask and give you privacy to do your business. They even let you take a shower after a couple of days. It strikes you as ironic that you’ve been groped by at least two different minor heroes, but not one of these villains has touched you inappropriately. Your friend teasingly said you have an “erotic figure”, but that didn’t make it okay for a random sidekick to keep “accidentally” brushing against your chest with his arm. Threatening to tell your sister about it put a stop to that behavior, but you were annoyed that it happened in the first place.
At most, a few of the villains have occasionally stared at your chest from a distance, but they at least have the decency to look away awkwardly when caught. To be honest, it’s almost cute. You do want to go home though, and you keep asking how long they plan to keep you here. “Until we’re done with you,” the one with piercings and tons of scars tells you. On the first day, the only girl in the group drew a vial of your blood. You’re not sure what her deal is, but they obviously have some sort of nefarious scheme in place. Eh, it’s none of your business.
The only member you haven’t been alone with, who has yet to take a turn “babysitting” you, is their apparent leader. The one they call Shigaraki. He spends most of his time in his room, and when he does come out, he seems irritable. None of the members seem to get along all that well, but they don’t seem to hate each other either. Somehow though, they mostly listen to what he has to say.
Tonight all of the members are out doing who knows what, except for Shigaraki, who is in his room with the door shut, and the one they call Dabi, who has been sitting on the couch watching tv. After an hour, he sighs and looks over at you, then stands up and says, “Come on.”
You get up, with some effort since your hands are tied together in front of you, and follow him into the hall. He stops outside Shigaraki’s door, knocks twice, then opens it before an answer comes. He strides into the room, you following somewhat hesitantly.
The room is a mess, though no more messy than any other single 20-something guy’s room. There’s trash here and there in the floor, mostly the packaging from various snacks, and the bed looks like it’s never been made even once. The room is dark, lit only by a television with the sound turned off and two computer monitors on Shigaraki’s desk, where he’s currently sitting.
His chair swivels around to face you and Dabi as you walk in. Behind him, you can see the pause menu of a game. It looks pretty familiar, but you’re not close enough to make out details. “What is it?” he asks, annoyance clear in his voice.
Dabi takes your arm and pulls you further into the room. It’s not a particularly rough action, but not a gentle one either. “It’s your turn to babysit her tonight,” Dabi says to his leader.
Shigaraki’s eyes flick to you, then back to Dabi. “I thought you had her tonight.”
“Yeah, but I have shit to do. You haven’t taken a turn yet. All you’re doing is playing games.”
Shigaraki waves one had in dismissive gesture as he swivels back to face his game and says, “Whatever. Just put her in the corner.”
Dabi points to a somewhat empty corner of the room and says, “Stay there until someone comes to get you.”
You shrug and walk over to the indicated spot, then you slide down the wall to sit on the floor. Dabi leaves, shutting the door behind him, and you’re left alone with the leader of the League of Villains.
For the first thirty minutes or so, Shigaraki completely ignores you. It’s like you’re not even there. But you can hear the sounds from his game, and you realize it’s one you know very well. In fact, you know it so well that, even without seeing the screen, you can tell exactly what boss he’s been trying to beat this whole time just by sound alone. And by the fact that he keeps repeating the fight, he seems to be struggling.
You stand up and edge closer, trying to get a good view so you can see what the problem is. Once you can see the monitor displaying the game, you watch for a few minutes before saying, “You’re not using fire spells?”
The words slipped out before you really thought them through, and Shigaraki spins around to look at you, as if he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone in the room.
“Huh?”
You take a few steps closer. “You have to use fire spells. You didn’t know?”
His momentary surprise at the sound of your voice clears away for irritation. “This is a fire monster. Why would I use fire spells against him?”
“Right after he uses his Hellfire attack, he slumps down for a few seconds, right? That’s when he’s weak to fire. If you hit him with fire spells then, they do massive damage.”
Shigaraki stares at you for a moment, then quickly spins back around to retry the fight. He follows your advice this time, spamming fire spells while the monster on screen is slumped down. After just a few rounds, the monster dies, and the battle is won. By reflex, you pat his shoulder with your tied-together hands and say, “You did it!”
When he looks back at you, you freeze. You’re so used to congratulating friends when they get through a tough spot in a game that you just casually did it to him. “Ah, sorry. I’m in a gaming group at my college. We play this game a lot.”
To your relief, he doesn’t seem offended by your actions. “Thanks for the tip,” he says dryly before continuing with his game.
You hover nearby, watching him play. This is the most entertainment you’ve had since you got here. The others don’t watch much television in the bar area, and when they do it’s usually just the news. Shigaraki doesn’t seem to mind you watching. Occasionally he glances back to see if you’re still standing there, and that’s when you realize… this is the first night you’ve seen him without a hand on his face. And actually, he’s pretty cute!
The next few nights, you end up dumped off in his room. He doesn’t complain when one of the other members drags you in there, and he even speaks to you every so often in response to comments you make about the game. On the third night, you pull a lumpy pillow off his bed and use it as a cushion to sit on the floor beside him so you can watch him play. He looks at the pillow as you flop it down but he doesn’t say anything about it. Apparently he doesn’t mind.
By the fifth night, the two of you are actually having brief conversations about the game. He even gave you the controller once so you could show him a cool glitch your friends discovered. After handing him back the controller, he tried the glitch himself, and actually grinned when it worked.
He’s so cute! You’ve made up your mind. You’re going to seduce Shigaraki Tomura. Maybe he’ll let you go if you rock his world. Oh, who are you kidding? You’re just looking for an excuse. You want to fuck this guy.
You put your plan in motion the next day. You insist on a shower, and complain that you have no clean clothes to change into. The other members of the League begin discussing whether or not they should buy you something, with Dabi cruelly suggesting they just grab you some sweatpants and a tshirt at a nearby convenience store.
“Couldn’t I just wear something of Toga’s?” you ask.
Toga perks up. “I don’t mind! She’d probably look really cute in a school uniform!”
There are a few awkward glances at you and slightly pink faces as the guys all seem to be imagining you dressed as a schoolgirl.
“Thanks, Toga!” you say brightly.
You wait to take your shower just before evening, when you know you’ll be taken to Shigaraki’s room. You put on the outfit Toga laid out for you, grinning in the mirror at how tight it is across your chest, the buttons threatening to burst open. The skirt is entirely too short, showing way more of your thighs than you normally display. Your hair is damp, just enough to look sexy. Perfect.
When Toga takes you to Shigaraki’s room, she proudly draws attention to your appearance. “Tadaa! Look how cute she is in my clothes!”
Shigaraki turns in his chair, and his eyes go wide. He stares for a moment, unblinking, not speaking. Then he clears his throat and says, “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
Toga leaves, and you walk over to his desk. You lean over him, looking at the screen. “What part are you at today?”
He glances up at you, his eyes sliding down to your cleavage and then back up to your face. “Uh… I’m in… the ice cave..” he says, clearly very distracted.
“Oh, I love the ice cave! It’s my favorite dungeon! Do you mind if I play for a just a little while?”
Shigaraki reaches you the controller. “Sure.”
You play for a few minutes while standing beside his chair, then you make your move. You squeeze in between him and the desk and plop down on his lap. “It’s hard to see the screen well if I’m standing up,” you say.
Shigaraki tenses beneath you, and you hear him make a sound similar to a small gasp.
“Oh, sorry, does this bother you?” you ask, twisting around to look at his face. You make sure your ass rubs into his crotch when you do it.
“Uh, no. It’s fine,” he says, staring at the screen, obviously trying hard to pay attention to the game.
“Great,” you say, turning back to the game, “because your lap is way more comfy than your pillow.”
You spend the next few minutes fighting your way through the ice cave, wiggling and moving around in his lap as much as you can without being too obvious about what you’re doing. And just when you feel something hard begin to press against your ass, you give him back the controller.
“Here, I think I’d rather watch you play.”
“Huh?” he asks, as if he forgot you were even playing a game. “Oh, okay.” He takes the controller and begins playing, though he keeps making mistakes and has to restart the area twice.
You decide to drop a bombshell. “It was really nice of Toga to loan me some clothes,” you say. “It’s just a shame she didn’t give me any underwear to put on until mine get done in the wash.”
The controller slips from Shigaraki’s hands and clatters to the floor. His onscreen character screams as monsters attack the now defenseless avatar. You twist again to look at him.
“What’s wrong?”
He’s staring at you, his eyes shifting from your face to the general area of your ass. Your skirt is already short, but it’s ridden up a few inches while you’ve been sitting here. It’s dangerously close to showing everything you have.
Suddenly his eyes narrow and he looks at you with suspicion. “What are you trying to do?” he asks in a low voice.
“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask him, turning fully around so that your legs dangle on either side of his waist. “I’m trying to seduce you.”
His face reddens slightly and he looks away from your face. “Why? You think I’ll let you go if you do this?”
“Not really. I just think you’re cute and I wanna fuck you.”
His eyes dart back to your face. He looks at you for a moment, perhaps judging your sincerity. Then he grins and says, “So fuck me then.”
You grin back, unbuttoning the too-tight shirt and letting your breasts pop freely from the fabric. Shigaraki’s hands are on them before he even has time to enjoy the view. He’s being careful with his fingers, and you figure it has something to do with his quirk. After a few moments, he leans forward and takes one nipple into his mouth, his chapped lips scratching across the sensitive skin. You lift one hand and bury it in his hair as his tongue traces circles around the bud of flesh.
Your other hand is working at his pants, trying to get them open. He uses one hand to reach down and help you, finally freeing his fully hard cock. You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t have any underwear on, and you slide forward to rub your bare pussy against his erection, His breath quickens when he feels how wet you are, and he bites your nipple, just hard enough to make you moan and grip his hair tightly.
He pulls back and looks down, seems irritated that the skirt is blocking his view, and suddenly rips it away. You laugh and say, “You’ll have to apologize to Toga,”
He’s staring at the spot where your bodies are touching, watching you rub your wetness up and down his length. “She’ll get over it,” he mumbles, before pressing one finger into your folds, gathering your dripping arousal, and then putting that finger in his mouth. The action only makes you even wetter, so you raise up just enough to position his cock at your entrance, then drop back down. You’re so slick that he slides all the way in, completely filling you up with his surprising size.
Shigaraki groans, closing his eyes and seeming to just enjoy the feel of you. A sneaking suspicion appears in your mind. Is he a virgin? He definitely has that vibe. Gamer guy who hangs around in his room all day? You feel giddy at the thought that you’re popping his cherry. He’s so unbelievably cute.
But then he surprises you by opening his eyes and pulling your face close to his. He kisses you roughly, shoving his tongue into your mouth while one of his hands grips your hair and the other is pressing four fingers into your thigh so hard that they’re sure to leave bruises. For a virgin, he’s sure figured out what makes you moan awfully fast.
In response, you begin moving up and down, fucking him as fast and hard as you can, clenching yourself around him. He’s breathing so hard he has to break the kiss, but his hands are still gripping you like a vice, You watch his face, all the wonderful expressions he’s making, the desire in his red eyes.
He pulls your head back by your hair and kisses your neck, then bites the soft skin there. It feels like his teeth broke the skin, and you moan again, feeling your pleasure intensify. It ripples up from your core, spreading through your body, and you climax just as he kisses your mouth again.
A few minutes later, Shigaraki carefully lifts you off him before he cums, shooting his seed all over your stomach and breasts. You look him in the eyes as you scoop up some of it on your fingers and put them in your mouth, making a show of savoring the taste of him.
You slide off his lap and glance around for something to put on. Toga’s skirt is ruined, and you’re pretty sure some of Shigaraki’s cum got on the borrowed shirt.
Shigaraki is leaned back in his chair, panting. He lifts a hand and points toward his closet. “Just wear something of mine,” he says.
You end up wearing a pair of black pants and a hoodie. The fabric is soft against your naked skin and, to your surprise, smells clean. You walk over and plop down on the pillow you placed on the floor. Shigaraki is already playing his game again, but he pauses it and looks over at you. “I thought you said my lap was more comfortable.”
You grin. “If I keep sitting in your lap, you’ll never get through this level.”
He grins back. “Try me.”
You laugh and stand up, then ease yourself back into his lap as he unpauses the game. You don’t know how much longer you’ll be the League’s “captive”, but you’re starting to think it’s not so bad after all.
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MDNI| toxic relationship, accidentally hurt by his quirk, gaslighting, manipulating, suggestive content , a need for therapy :(
shigaraki cries when you threaten to leave. no, not earth shattering sobs but silent tears that spill from the ducts as he watches you pack. you’re turned away because you can’t bear to look at him. “i knew you would leave me… just like everyone else”. his voice is hoarse and raspy, a dejected tone that claws at your soul. you pause your actions, clutching at the handles of the suitcase to take a deep breath. he approaches tentatively, like a lion studying a lamb. “i can’t keep doing this, Tomura” he winces, disgusted by the bitter sound of his given name from your lips. “how many times do i have to say m’sorry, angel”? the man reaches for your bruised and bandaged arm—evidence of his temper. “didn’t wanna hurt you, baby. just wanted you to listen, you know i hate it when people don’t listen to me”. you snatch away, tears threatening to fall. “people ?” you hiss, “I’m your girlfriend , tomura. you don’t get to treat me like your minions!” he goes silent. you still haven’t looked at him. and chest heaving with fists clenched. and even with the vortex of emotion he can only focus on one thing. “you’re so beautiful when you cry”. it’s dry and mirthless, your laugh. “god—you’re sick”. he shrugs, “you’ve known that from the beginning”. he’s right about that , at least. you’re still not looking at him and he needs that to change. he knows if you’ll just meet his eyes then it’ll be fine ! “it’s not my fault that i’m like this. i was beaten, bruised and abandoned. being discarded is why i am the way i am” he sniffs, “i just hoped that you…” he trails off, knowing that your kind heart wanted nothing more than to comfort him. he can see it in the way your hands flex. “don’t you love me anymore, angel ?” your body stiffens. he has you now, and he knows it. hook, line and sinker. of course you meet his gaze, eyes brimming with tears. so full of love and utter devotion. it’s foolish really. you’re too good for this world. too good for him. he knows it too but he is a deteriorating corpse in a vast desert and you are a tropical oasis. you are his salvation. he needs you. and you love him. crimson renders you motionless, with him walking you backwards against the wall. “baby, my angel” it’s whispered against your skin. his head tucked in the crook of your neck to graze the sensitive flesh there with his teeth. “i need you, angel. don’t you know that ?” his tongue trails upwards, a glistening path up your face to capture the salty tears that linger. roughly, he palms your breast and gropes your ass. small pecks across your cheeks until his lips meet your own. you try to resist, really you do, but his teeth break the skin making you gasp and he bullies his way against your tongue. the kiss is raw and passionate and bloody and you feel yourself drowning once again. “you are mines, angel. i’d kill us both, before i ever let you leave me”. it’s not a threat, it’s a promise between lovers , whispered sweetly as he falls to his knees, pulling your tights down with him. a kiss is pressed to your mound, followed by the rough pad of his thumb. your knees buckle, but he holds you steady. “don’t worry, baby, i’ve got you. i’m never letting go”. you made shigaraki cry when you threatened to leave, but he made you cry and beg to cum.
#tomura shigiraki x reader#mha tomura#tomura shiragaki#shigaraki tomura#shiggy#shigaraki drabble#shigaraki fanfiction#shigaraki smut#shigaraki angst#tenko shimura#mha smut#mha angst#mha villains#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x black!reader
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Tomura is really hungry for physical contact, so it's no surprise that when he's inside you he can't help but sobs on your neck for more, with moans saying he feels too good and tears on he's cheeks that you quickly kiss and then dry.
Every onslaught feels like he could die at that very moment. The sound of his hips crashing into your butt floods the room as shigaraki cries, cries for pleasure, cries because he loves to touch you and especially loves you more than anything.
#bnha smut#shigaraki drabble#shigaraki fanfiction#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x y/n#tomura shigiraki x reader
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