#ao3 shigaraki x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sophsiaaa · 8 months

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closet

ONESHOT

pairing: tomura shigaraki x fem reader

summary: “Just one party,” they said, “It’ll be fun.” Fun was what now had you standing in the dark, barely three feet of room between you and Tenko Shimura, the guy you hated most.

or Tenko and reader get roped into playing seven minutes in heaven and have hate sex.

notes: College AU. Just an old ao3 oneshot I wrote that I'm crossposting here.

chapter contains: explicit smut

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You weren’t one for playing these types of games – locked in a closet with a boy you didn’t know or didn’t like, forced to awkwardly swap spit while the real party carried on beyond the closed-door. Seven Minutes in Heaven was an overrated game anyway. Stupid. Childish. Nobody actually played it.

Or so you thought.

The party was pretty big. Happened at the end of every semester. Some off-campus thing at one student or another’s house. Most students at the college knew about it since a few members of the recreation club went advertising at orientation, handing out flyers that listed parties and pub crawls throughout the semester, including this one.

You’d never been before, despite being in your second year. Parties, especially ones that left STDs and ODs in their wake, typically weren’t your thing. Sure, you liked to socialise and let loose every now and then, but the recreation club had a reputation, and you didn’t need to get mixed up in their shit when you had exams crammed down your throat.

And yet, it was the end of semester, exams were done, and your friends had talked you into it for the night. The house was alive with people, drinkings sloshing over red cups and clinking in bottles, music punding through the walls, dark lights washing everything in red. It was nice. Or at least, it had started out that way.

“Just one party,” your friends said, “It’ll be fun.”

Fun was what now had you standing in the dark, barely three feet of room between you and Tenko Shimura, the guy you hated most.

—

Tenko had no idea why he’d agreed to come to this stupid party.

Spinner, the idiot , had talked him into it. He’d claimed they needed to get out and meet more people.

“No offence Tenko,” he said on game last night, “but I figured I’d have more than one friend by the time I was in second year.”

Tenko scoffed. “As if I care. What, you think you’ll find friends at some idiot’s house party?"

Silence stretched between them over the headset, punctuated only by shots from enemy players, before Spinner said, “Your girlfriend’s going.”

It took him a minute to figure out who he was talking about before Tenko shouted down the mic, “She’s not my fucking girlfriend!”

Spinner’s laughter followed by friendly fire was how Tenko remembered that conversation ending, but at some point, he guessed he’d agreed to go to the party. It had started with him in a foul mood, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans, hoodie up and antisocial despite the clearly loose mood. But slowly, the ordeal improved. Spinner found them some drinks and they mostly ended up talking to some other comp sci majors and a few engineering students about games. He oddly found that he didn’t hate making friends, especially when his blood was burning with the kick of alcohol.

That was until he wound up in a big circle with a bunch of strangers. He could’ve just left. Got up and gone home. But the drinks made everything a bit blurred and just sitting down as the world spun around him felt too nice. Spinner was still with him, he was sure, saying something about girls, when Tenko noticed you sit down in the circle too.

Your friend dragged you down beside her and kept your arm looped through hers. You looked a little too sober – no flush to your cheeks, no messy hair. He hated that about you. Hated your uptight posture, your perfect grades, and too-good-for-him attitude.

He’d met you last year in a shared class – some core unit for all first years. You were paired together for an assignment and at first glance he knew he hated you. You, with your put together outfits and made-up face, always looking at him like his ragged clothes and ugly scars weren’t good enough. You, who constantly texted about the assignment, dragging him out of bed so you could complain about his ideas.

And Tenko knew you hated him too. Hated the way he spoke to you like you were nothing but a nagging bitch, hated how he could keep up with you when it came to academics. He was sure you hated him for tanking the assignment on purpose, just because he wanted to piss you off. Ever since that first semester, you’d shot him every dirty look, whispered every obscenity when he passed you, even once cutting the line in front of him at the college café, turning back with a self-satisfied smile.

He hated you.

So, when your narrowed eyes met his across the circle, he sat up a little straighter and shot you the most arrogant, bitter smirk he could muster. This was gonna be good.

“Okay!” A blonde girl at the center of the circle clapped her hands together and the talking died down. “The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven. I spin this bottle twice-” She held up an empty glass beer bottle, giving it a twirl as she placed it beneath her foot. “-and the two people it lands on go into that locked closet to do whatever they want.”

The circle erupted into a chorus of noise. Some drunken cheers, other groans. A few people got up and left and a few came to sit down.

“Kissing?” another girl asked.

“Or whatever.” The blonde grinned wickedly.

“Hurry up and start already,” said a guy with what looked to be burns and piercings.

“Like he’s getting any,” Tenko whispered to Spinner.

“Like we are,” Spinner said back. His cheeks were a little pink, and he looked like he’d just walked out of a washing machine, queasy and bracing the floor.

Tenko barked a laugh. “Shit, you’re actually nervous about this dumb game?”

“Aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “Not like it matters.”

The blonde girl bent over and spun the bottle. Round and round, it went. A dizzy glass pointer, ready to snatch good students and turn them into closet-fucked social pariahs.

It landed on you.

Tenko’s face lit up with genuine happiness. His grin was sharp, malicious. Your face paled, leaving you with a sickly look that he was sure meant you were regretting being sober right about now. It was too good. He couldn’t fucking believe it. A girl like you getting fucked in a closet, brought low to the level of those she looked down on.

He was too engrossed in his sick glee to even notice when the bottle spun again and landed squarely on him.

—

The circle erupted into a circus oooo’s and giggles all around as the guy you hated most was made the glass bottle’s second victim. Tenko didn’t even seem to realise until his friend – Spinner, you thought his name was – elbowed him in the ribs. His carmine eyes darted to the center, then, wide as bottomless pools, up to you. You swore his adams apple bobbed.

Everything from there moved too quickly. Your friend had to literally drag you from your seat. You weren’t sure who, or even if Tenko was dragged. But seconds later you were locked in together.

The closet was dark, night-black save the small yellow light seeping in through the bottom crack of the door. As your eyes adjusted, you realised it had been emptied of whatever it used to store and was now three-square feet of carpet and bare walls.

You were pressed against the door. Tenko leaned on the wall across from you, almost stiff with his hands shoved into his pockets. He refused to meet your gaze.

The still silence pulled taut between you, rife with months of hate and resentment.

“Why are you here?” you eventually asked.

Tenko stared at the floor, black hair falling into his face. “Why the hell do you care?”

“Because I didn’t take you for the friendly type.”

He raised a brow and took you in – short dress, pushed-up cleavage, exposed clavicle. “Ha, I didn’t take you for the slutty type.”

Your eyes became daggers, onces you wished to poke him with, though you doubted he could see them in this dark. He was so frustrating. Such a fucking asshole. And for no reason. You’d never done anything to him. Were always nice during your assignment. He was just a sour, bitter man.

“You’re such an asshole,” you breathed, turning around to jiggle the handle. “Fuck. Locked in.”

“Yeah, they said that.”

Deep breaths. You reeled around at him, stepping forward. “Then what do you suggest, hmm? That we just sit here?”

“It’s only seven minutes.” Tenko shrugged and you noticed the way his black hoodie barely moved. You swore it used to be baggier.

“Yeah, but-”

“What? Can’t keep your hands off me for seven minutes?” His face slipped into a sly grin, the jagged scar stretching over his lips.

You wanted to yank his lips off. You wanted to punch him.

You gave him a coy smile instead, folding your hands behind your back and leaning against the door again. “More concerned about how painful your blue balls will be by the time the seven minutes are up.”

“You wish." He sneered at you. That was the look you were used to. "As if I’d want to fuck you.”

“Aw, you’re nervous.”

“Fuck you!”

“So, you do wanna fuck me then?” You sighed condescendingly, unable to stop the built-up anger from spewing out. “I always knew it. A pathetic loser like you, that’s probably why you failed our assignment. Too caught up in virgin-daydreams about a girl actually touching you.”

Tenko’s jaw literally dropped. His fingers bunched into fists in his pockets, and he stared slack at you, pupils shrunk in the red of his iris. Finally, you’d made him speechless. And it felt fucking good.

Though not for long. He stepped forward, hands withdrawn from his pockets. There was no where to go but further against the door as he came right up into your face. Those angry red eyes bore into yours, nose an inch away as he stood over you. This close, you could count the lines of scars around his eyes. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he finally said and there was a chuckle in his rocksalt-rasp voice that made your stomach drop. “I do want to fuck you. And since you keep talking about it, I'll give it to you.”

Tenko pressed his lips to yours in a mockery of a kiss.

Your back went flush against the door as his face bullied you against it. His lips cut a rough kiss, sharp with chapping. A broad hand found your sternum, holding you in place and you gasped. That was enough for him to push his tongue in too. It sent an unwelcome thrill up your spine, the wetness, the cloying taste and smell of drinks that clung to the walls of his mouth. Your teeth clinked together as he worked a brutal rhythm, licking into your mouth like he truly never had kissed a girl before, almost trying to swallow you whole.

You bit his tongue and a metallic taste quickly flooded everything. Tenko pulled back, dots of slick blood coating his lips. He looked like he might truly kill you. Then, he laughed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You wiped the back of your hand over your mouth, spitting the blood onto the carpet.

“Me? You kept saying I wanted to fuck you.” He wiped his sleeve. “Just giving you want you want – to be right.”

“You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Yeah?” He tipped his head, gaze now alight with something you didn’t want to put a name to. “That why I felt you shiver? You fucking liked it.”

You pressed your lips together in silent fury. Your head was pounding. Your body was pounding. He... he...

“Oh my god, you fucking did.” He huffed out a laugh. “Who would have thought, this whole time-”

You shut him up with a hard shove to the chest. Tenko grunted as his back it the wall. “Shut up! I didn’t like it. You’re a terrible kisser.”

He rolled his eyes. “Like you could do better.”

“You don’t think I could?”

“I know you couldn’t.”

For a moment the two of you glared into each other's souls, bodies pulsing with hot anger. Your fingers tightened in the fabric of his hoodie. You smiled softly up at him. “Really?” you whispered as you inched closer. You hovered your soft lips above his. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah...” His breathing hitched.

You hummed low in your throat, and caught up in the moment, lost of all reason, pressed your lips to his. This time, the kiss was soft. His lashes fluttered shut, and you caught the low whine that escaped his throat when you worked his mouth open, tongue gently melding with his. Tenko’s hands tentatively found your hips, which surprised you. Everything about this surprised you, but the more you kissed him, the more you felt like you didn’t want to stop.

He gripped your hips a little tighter, drawing your body taut against his. Against your thigh, you felt his arousal, and it shocked you enough into drawing back, ready with an sarcastic retort. But Tenko seemed done with fighting. He flipped you around, baring down on you as he buried his face in the juncture of your neck, sucking marks into your skin.

You gasped and panted beneath him, Unsure of what to do. Unsure of what you wanted to do. And when he pressed a thigh between your legs, you stopped thinking. “Fuck .”

Tenko smirked against your skin. “Oh, you like that?”

He rolled his thigh again, and this time yours clenched around it on instinct.

“Stop that...”

“Why? You clearly like it.”

He did it again and again, steadily building a jerky rhythm that brushed your clothed clit each time. You rode against his thigh unconsciously as he laid kisses against the column of your throat. His hands clumsily found your breasts, groping with the eagerness of a man who’d never been this close to a woman before. He panted against your skin. “Fuck, these feel nice. Let me see.”

“What?” you managed to get out through your haze.

You looked down and wished you hadn’t. Tenko’s pupils were so wide that black engulfed all red. His cheeks were flushed in the dark, scars etched out in pale lines across his sharp-featured face. He looked sinfully good, and his filthy mouth made him even better.

“Let me see your pretty tits,” he said, pulling at the hem of your dress.

He got it down in one swipe, your breasts spilling out from the fabric. You wished you’d worn a bra.

His eyes shot down, followed by his mouth. He pressed the flat of his bloody tongue against a nipple, licking up to your collarbone like a truly desperate un-fucked man. His head bobbed back down and he sucked a nipple into his mouth, fingers latching onto the other hastily. Your head fell back so hard it hit the wall and left your whole body throbbing.

“Tenko, we shouldn’t...”

He groaned then, actually groaned with your tit in his mouth and pulled off with a pop, wet saliva hardening the nipple in the cold air. “Say my name again,” he said, both hands kneading your breasts as he kissed you hard. “Tell me you feel good. Say it.”

It hit you then, just how lust-clouded he was. How addicted he seemed to you not only liking this but liking that he was doing it. You hated him, and he hated you, and yet right now you wanted nothing more than to give him that satisfaction.

“I do like it.” You turned your face away, shame mingling with want. “I like it when you touch me.”

Tenko looked at you like you’d just given him the moon, pressing his face into your shoulder again as he caught his breath and kept on with your breasts. You canted your hips forward, seeking the friction of his hardness pressed against you and he gasped, grinding his cock against you in little ruts.

You decided that hating him could wait till tomorrow.

“Touch me, Tenko,” you whispered, taking his hand and guiding it between your legs.

He let you eagerly, pushing his long, spidery fingers beneath the fabric of your underwear and into the slickness of your folds.

“You’re wet,” he said, sliding his fingers through them, catching on your clit with every torturous stroke. “Fuck, you’re actually wet.”

He lowered himself to his knees, but you caught his sleeve, pulling him back up.

“No time. Let’s just...”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He stood up and crowded you against the wall as he scrambled to unbutton his pants. You fingers met his and you helped each down his jeans, the waistband of his boxers, until his cock bobbed free. It was strained with need, long and weeping at the tip as you pumped it gently for him. His shoulders caved and he shuddered at your touch, blushing with each squeeze and stroke of your hand.

"You're good at this," he said fucking into your hand and shutting his eyes, lost in the pleasure. "Feels so much better than-"

"Your own hand?" You ran your thumb over the slit and nipped his neck.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Oh, I fucking will." Tenko bared his teeth in a near-feral grin as he pushed your underwear aside. He slid his cock through the wetness of your cunt in a way that had you both sucking in breath. "Gonna break you."

You hiked a leg up and around his hip drawing him close. “Then fucking do it."

With that, Tenko pushed the head inside. He barreled over, the squeeze and tug you had on him left him looking dazed. He rested his forehead against yours, shaking as you clenched around his sensitive tip.

“You’re so fucking tight... shit...” Through gasps he pushed all the way in. It stung, the stretch of him bullying his way inside, and you bit your lip to keep from moaning. When he bottomed out, he stilled, and you could feel his cock twitching inside you. “Fuck you feel so good,” he panted. “So warm. So perfect.”

You tightened your leg around his hip, pressing your heel into the base of his spine. “Move.”

He pulled back slowly, watching the way you gripped him as he slid out. Truly, you'd never seen a man more pussy-drunk than this. The thought that you'd done this to him, a man you hated so much, had lightning-pride shooting through you. Tenko slowly pushed back in, deeper than the first time. He fucked himself into you, each rut of his hips dragging his pubic bone against your clit. Your back dug into the wall he pinned you to, but you didn’t even care. He was panting into your mouth, eyes lidded with want. He was yours, in this closet, willing to do whatever you asked.

“Have you ever... thought about doing this before?” you asked through his shallow thrusts.

Tenko grunted, the sudden smack of his hips giving him away more than his fucked-out smile. “Have you?”

You couldn’t help your own grin. “I asked first.”

“Yes." His tongue met yours in a sloppy kiss as his thrusts grew erratic. He wouldn’t last long. He groaned into your mouth. “Wanted to bend you over a desk and... hah... fuck the attitude out of you ages ago.”

You moaned, clenching tighter around him, and he pressed a hand across your mouth to keep you quiet. "Shh, don't want everyone knowing how bad you like this, do you?"

“Fuck you,” you spat, words muffled as he pressed his middle and index fingers into your mouth. You bit down on the fingers, tongue sucking around them as your teeth left indents in his pale skin.

Tenko huffed a laugh and his hips stuttered. His hand snaked between you, rubbing messily at your clit. He wasn’t precise at all, but the friction was enough. Your tits bounced as he pressed deeper into you, your body growing taut as you approached the edge. "I'm so close. Wanna come inside. You want that?"

You tried to shake you head, but every time he fucked deeper into you, your eyes rolled back and you couldn't protest. This all felt too good. The forbiddeness of fucking someone you hate, the possibility of someone walking in, the soft pap of his balls slapping against your ass as his legs quivered beneath him.

“You’re gonna come,” Tenko said. “Shit, I can feel it. Go on. Want to feel you come. Fucking do it.”

And you did. He swallowed up your cry with a harsh kiss as your body throbbed with pleasure. The orgasm crashed into you like a fucking train, and Tenko wasn’t far behind.

“Shit... Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Three deep thrusts and he was spilling himself into you with a whimper. His cum shot out in warm, thick ropes, coating your insides as his face fell into your shoulder.

He rested on you, in you, like that for what felt like a while, his release seeping out between you in trails down your thighs. Eventually he pulled out, tucking his soft cock away. You pulled your dress back into place, underwear catching the arousal leaking between your legs. Tenko, to your surprise, turned back to you, wiping the insides of your thighs with the inside of his hoodie sleeve. It was oddly sweet, if a little gross.

But when he pulled away, awkwardness clung to the both of you like a rain-soaked blanket. You both stood in the darkness catching your breaths. You'd crossed a line tonight that could never be uncrossed. You both hated each other. You’d both fucked each other in a dark closet. What now-

“Sorry guys!” The door swung open, and you froze up, turning to see the blonde from earlier in the doorway. “Should have let you out ten minutes ago, but the cops turned up, so party’s over.”

Ten minutes? Had it really been that long? Shit.

She left and you and Tenko were left alone. You awkwardly stepped out of the closet, blinking in the light. Your friends were gone, as were most people. It was probably best if you two just went your separate ways and pretended this never happened-

Tenko grabbed your hand and shoved the other in his pocket. “Let's go,” was all he said as he held your hand and led you from the house. "I'm taking you to my dorm tonight."

And though you could’ve argued, pushed him away, gone back to hating him and gone home, you let him.

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le-fruit-de-la-passion · 10 months

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Two Hours - Chapter 1 - Shigaraki x Reader

***

Maybe, just maybe, some things might be worth waiting for.

***

Two hours.

He was late by a full two hours. Meaning 120 minutes, 2700 seconds, 7200000 precious milliseconds wasted of your life. You'd know, you counted.

You glared at the library clock again, as if it was its fault you had been stood up. Disgruntledly, you pushed back your chair, getting up to put your laptop and revision materials back in your bag. It was the last time you'd try and help a stranger because clearly, strangers sucked.

You had done tutoring for different classes since your second year in college. Literature, philosophy, anthropology, history- name it, you could teach it. And you loved doing it like few other things made you happy. Was there anything as wonderful as showing others the beauty of human nature, its creativity, its passion, its sincerity?

"Sincerity my ass," you thought, angrily shoving your backpack on one shoulder. It clunked loudly as it bumped against a wooden shelf, and the librarian threw you a dirty look from the other side of the room. Part of you felt bad; you had spent a while trying to cultivate a good relationship with the older man, since you spent most of your free time in the library. But the rest of you, which was to say almost all of you, didn't care, because you were unbelievably frustrated.

You had had students give you tons of excuses before: they were sick, their mom was sick, their neighbors' dog was sick, and they just had to skip the tutoring session. You didn't mind that; they'd always text at least an hour in advance, and you'd have the time to read their message and go home with a smile, instead of walking all the way to the library.

But today's guy was different. You knew he had your number and your email address: it was part of the tutoring agreement you had both signed online. And yet he hadn't had the decency, the respect, to send a single message to tell you he couldn't come to the two-hour appointment he himself scheduled. And now, you had just wasted two hours, excitedly waiting to expose the wonders of literature to a guy who couldn't even bother to text you "can't come".

You gave the librarian a half-hearted nod of apology and headed toward the big glass doors at the front of the building. The weather looked moody outside, the sky grey and heavy like rain could start pouring at any moment. You didn't need to check your bag to know you didn't pack an umbrella. It was clear this was one of the days.

Sighing, you opened the heavy door to walk out at the same moment a man pushed to get in. You tucked your body to the side to keep the door open for him, but he flatly ignored the gesture, walking past you without uttering a "thank you".

"Yup," you thought, "strangers suck."

Before you could take more than a few steps outside, a droplet of water fell right on top of your nose, stopping you in your tracks. And then another, and another, and in a flash, the area was getting flooded, puddles already forming around on the dark asphalt. You couldn't help as another sigh escaped you, bracing for the impact of the freezing rain as you took a step forward into the tempest.

Then, something grabbed you by the shoulder.

You yelped in surprise and turned around, fists instinctively bunching up to your chest to protect yourself, heart racing. It took you a few seconds to recognize the rude guy who had just passed you on his way in.

He was tall, taller than you had first realized. His oversized hoodie made it hard to gauge his frame, the visibly worn-out fabric stretched shapelessly around his torso. Your eyes looked up for a face you couldn't find: the black hood fully obscured his features, and for a second, images of killers in horror movies alarmingly flashed through your mind.

You shoved yourself out of his grip and took a step back, eyes wide. He nonchalantly placed his hand back in his pocket, an unimpressed glare staring right back at you. His eyes were red, bright red.

"You're the tutor, right?"

You looked at the ominous figure incredulously.

"What ?"

"You're the tutor, right ?" he repeated in a low, raspy tone. He sounded annoyed.

You kept staring at him, wondering if he was speaking in a foreign language you had never heard of.

Then, his words started registering.

"Tomura..." you started uncertainly, the math adding up in your head as you remembered the name on the little manilla folder you had prepared for today, "Shigaraki ?"

A small smile etched itself onto the man's face, and you noticed how cracked his lips were, a faded scar going through the dried skin. Strands of slightly greasy hair, white as snow, rebelliously escaped the black hood, and for a second you caught another glimpse of his crimson eyes. But they disappeared back under the shadow of the fabric, and you realized your body had tensed like a rock.

"I'm the guy," he said nonchalantly, the hand you had pushed away going up to his neck and mindlessly scratching the skin there. There were marks there, some old, and others so fresh they looked like they were bleeding. Anxiously, you wondered if instead of a killer, you had stumbled on an addict.

"Hey, so when do we go get a seat inside? It's fucking cold out here," he added, gesturing lazily towards the library.

You kept staring.

And staring.

He hadn't possibly said what you thought he had just said. No one was so impossibly clueless and self-centered that they would come two hours late to a meeting and act like they were the one who was being bothered. But the cold rain falling down your face made it aboundedly clear: this was real.

"No," you finally said, enunciating the word slowly.

He looked as confused as you first did, the smug, composed look on his face instantly falling. He didn't look like he was told "no" often, and you felt the flame of anger start to burn inside you.

"What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no," you replied drily, feeling confidence coursing back through your body. There was no doubt in your mind you already looked like a drowned rat from the rain, and that your waterproof mascara was starting to reach its limits. But you weren't about to be scared of some loser trying to look tough with a crusty hoodie and unwashed hair.

"You came two hours late for the tutoring, which lasts two hours. My work slot with you is from four to six, and it's exactly," you snapped, bringing your phone up to his face, "Ten past six, so my work here is done."

He stared at your phone in incomprehension, then back at you, irritation slowly settling on his pale features. His thin brows frowned, and you noticed another scar marring his right eyelid the piercing crimson stare bore into you. Maybe he was some kind of gang member, and if so, was it a good idea to mouth off to him?

"Look, I don't know what crawled up your ass, but I'm paying to have a tutor," he snarled drily. "That's not fair."

You had to wonder if you were even talking to an adult. So maybe he was a killer, or an addict, or a gang member, and he would end up stabbing you for it, but by God, were you going to put that guy back in place.

"Well, tough luck, buddy," you almost spat out, your usually level-headed patience entirely fizzled out, "it wasn't fair to make me wait two hours and then expect me to have nothing other to do in my life than tutoring your sorry ass. But life isn't fair, is it ?"

You turned around, throwing the man one last angry look: "If you want tutoring, then be there next week. On time."

You felt oddly proud of yourself as you walked away, leaving him wet and alone in the rain. And if you were slightly trembling at the feeling of the crimson stare boring through you all the way down the library path, well, you just had to pray he didn't notice it.

---

"Huh," you noted with both surprise and apprehension, "you're here."

And indeed, there he was, slumped in one of the library's chairs, the stranger you were certain wouldn't come to your meeting this week: Tomura Shigaraki.

You had spent a few days feeling bad about the way you had handled things; yes, he had been incredibly late and entitled, but you never gave him any time to explain himself for it all. Maybe he did have a good reason, and maybe he had only acted so entitled because he was having an especially rough day.

One look at the condescending glare he threw you was enough to confirm that wasn't the case.

"Yeah, I'm here," he muttered, looking away, his right hand still ripping away at his neck like the last time you had seen him. You couldn't help but wonder about the gesture, the practiced way his fingers would visibly carve into the skin. Allergies? Eczema?

His vermillion eyes never left your figure as you put your bag down and awkwardly sat across from him, looking down at the carpeted floors.

"Why are you that surprised ?" he added flatly, "I told you, I'm paying for this shit."

You weren't a confrontational person; or at least, you did your best to avoid confrontation. But you'd been tired last week, and his whole little disrespectful charade had pushed you over the edge. You weren't sure you were up to deal with it again.

Your lack of response seemed to irritate him; he picked up a small handheld console from his lap, immediately busying himself in a game like your presence held no meaning to him.

You took a small breath, not wanting your temper to rise again; if you wanted this to work, you'd need to be the first to give the olive branch. You put on a nice, professional smile: "Let's put everything to the side for a moment, start over. Maybe we could both introduce ourselves again ?"

His thumbs toyed with the joysticks on his handheld, disinterest palpable."Why? I know who you are."

You could have strangled him.

"Nevermind," you smiled so forcefully it hurt your cheeks. "So, you're here for Lit 3250, Absurdism in Literature. That's a fun class."

"I'm only taking it because I have to," he grumbled. "I'm in computer programming. They make us take a class in the humanities department because the education system is fucked."

You raised an eyebrow at that, genuinely surprised: "They're making you do literature in computer science ?"

He shrugged, his eyes going back to the game on the small screen with obvious boredom.

"Told you. The system is fucked."

You pulled out the little manilla file you had prepared for him from your bag, spreading a few documents on the table between the two of you. For a second, you could have sworn his bored expression flickered into something new, but it was gone before you could register it.

"Well, I might not be able to do much about that, but I can try and make the class easier," you smiled a little more genuinely this time as he put his handheld to the side to look at the papers you had slid in front of him.

To your complete astonishment, as you guided him through the material, the man listened, never once taking notes, yet able to answer any question you threw his way in the shortest, most concise way possible. He seemingly absorbed the information while looking wholeheartedly disinterested, like remembering the words was barely any more work than eating or breathing. You had to wonder if the programmer in him coded the sentences in his mind, imputing every word as little lines of binary code, or if he was just this naturally, annoyingly smart.

"Alright, that's it for today," you concluded, noticing you had gone over the material you had planned for two sessions in just the last two hours. "I didn't take you for the kind of guy to listen to a tutor, but you've done a really good job today."

You gave him an honest smile, hoping to finally mend the bridge from last weekend's incident. Instead, he promptly looked away, lips tightening into a thin line.

"S' just cause I need to pass the class to get my diploma. I don't really give a shit about any of this stuff."

If he saw your face fall at that, he didn't show it. He grabbed his handheld and shoved it in his front pocket, promptly throwing his ragged backpack over his shoulder, as if the last thing he wanted was to stay here a minute longer with you.

"I'll see you next week, then," you hesitantly said, more a question than a statement. He didn't look back at you when he spoke with a grunt, already making his way out.

"Whatever."

---

"So Camus' thing is society is fucked, and as soon as you realize it you gotta kill yourself, right ?"

"Basically !" you beamed excitedly, circling a paragraph in the text facing him with the tip of your finger. "It's the idea that when you understand your role as just a cog in the machine in a mindless daily life, you have to either ignore it to rejoin society, or leave society altogether."

A small smile danced on Shigaraki's chapped lips, as smug and mocking as all his smiles were. You sometimes wondered if his face could ever express pure, genuine happiness, or if it was perpetually stuck with that self-satisfied expression.

"Yeah, I can get behind that."

It fit him, in a strange way. And he had every reason to be pompous: in three weeks, you had both gone through double the material you had planned for his first sessions, as be blasted each lesson like a simple tutorial fight in one of the many video games you'd catch him play before each lesson.

"Me too, actually," you agreed.

He looked at you disbelievingly: "You? Feeling like you're not a part of society? Give me a break, you're a tutor in university, there's probably a normie award for that."

"Well, even us normies are really just always doing the same thing, aren't we ?" you explained, laying your chin against your hand pensively. "Take the two of us. We always meet here at four o'clock on Wednesdays, at the same library, at the same table. We don't go through the motions because we want to, we do it because we have to, and that's what everyone expects from us. Kinda makes you want to quit society too, doesn't it ?"

For a moment, he said nothing. There was something unsettling in the way his ruby eyes bore into you, like he was judging your very soul. You felt your cheeks unwillingly redden after a few seconds under his piercing stare, looking away in slight embarrassment. If a few weeks spent with him were enough to convince you he wasn't a serial killer, you still found yourself troubled whenever he'd look at you too long.

He finally seemed satisfied with whatever he found looking into you, eyes mercifully leaving your face before settling on something on the table.

"That's a Plus Ultra sticker," he commented flatly.

You followed his gaze to your cellphone, face down, the small video game logo barely visible on the cover. How had he even noticed it?

It wasn't that you were ashamed of gaming in your free time, but you knew for a fact the entire literature department bore a clear disdain for any media not printed onto pages. They laughed off anything else as childish and a waste of time. Needless to say, you had never shared that passion with anyone on campus before that moment.

But damn, did you love Plus Ultra.

You couldn't help but grin excitedly at him: "Oh wow, you play too !"

"Sometimes," he shrugged with obviously fake disinterest, his crimson eyes brighter than you had ever seen them before."It's not the best game or anything, but it's alright. I feel like the whole hero fantasy trope is kinda overplayed."

He suddenly clammed up, like he had just remembered who he was talking to. The classic sour, haughty look you had gotten to know reappeared on his face.

"I just didn't know any girls played that game," he mumbled.

And there he was, the asshole you had met on that first rainy day.

"Well," you replied drily, "I play, and I'm actually one of the top All Might players in the country."

His pale fingers tremored at that, the excited brightness that he was trying very hard to conceal back in his eyes. It was so childish it was almost endearing, in a way.

"Well, what a coincidence. I'm also a top All Might player, except I was in the world ranking, last time I checked," he bragged, nonchalantly picking at his fingernails. "Maybe I could teach you a thing or two later."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the implication of a "later", of a world where you would be together outside of the required tutoring time, seemed to dawn on him. He stammered wordlessly, red spreading like fire on his pale face. It was... a lot more endearing than you would have thought.

"F-forget it. That was stupid."

You couldn't help but soften at that. Maybe, underneath the dirty hoodie and the deadly glare, he was as timid and insecure as you felt he was. The lashing out, the quips, the bratty entitlement- were they all just a facade for a guy who genuinely didn't know how to interact with others?

"Well," you hummed, "maybe after you're done with your midterms you could come over to my dorm for a match. There's a big communal TV you can pair consoles with."

The cold, detached mask was back, but it was much harder to believe with the pink coloring that reached the very tip of his ears.

"Yeah, maybe."

---

A month passed before you encountered your first hurdle in your tutoring work with Shigaraki, in the form of a "CLOSED" sign glaring back at you from the library's glass doors.

"Damn it," you mumbled, opening up your phone to find an unread message from the faculty announcing a temporary shutdown. Shigaraki, who had taken up the habit of coming on time for your sessions, looked incredibly pissed.

"So the fuckers think they can send one email and be done with it ?" he angrily snapped, kicking the library's plexiglas door so harshly it made you flinch. You took a mental note to never do anything to find yourself on the wrong side of that kick.

"Well, we can reschedule for tomorrow!" you chirped. Perhaps he'd appreciate you trying to put a positive spin on the situation.

The look he gave you could have turned you into dust.

"I'm already here. And I'm busy tomorrow. I have important things to do."

Briefly, you wondered if by important things he meant staying home and gaming. The college's main campus wasn't very large, and in the few years you had studied here, you had never caught a glimpse of him once. He had the kind of dim presence one could easily forget, but if you had passed him before, you would have known.

"I think the law building lets you take rooms for study sessions, " you proposed.

He sighed, voice raspy with irritation. "It's full of pretentious assholes," he replied drily, "and it's almost a thirty minutes walk from here."

"You're kind of a pretentious asshole yourself", you thought silently. It was clear he wasn't going to help or do anything that required too much effort on his part. When Shigaraki wanted to be annoying, he was really annoying.

"You got a better option ?" you mumbled, frustrated.

He looked down at his shoes, suddenly silent. "Ah ha", you thought victoriously, "didn't think so".

Then, words you could have never expected came out of his mouth: "Yeah. Come to my place."

You looked at him incredulously. He looked as surprised as you did, like he wasn't the one who had just talked.

"I live like ten minutes from here," he explained hurriedly, glaring down at the asphalt like it might melt and swallow him whole, "it'll take way less time."

It wasn't as if you didn't know the guy at all, but to say you knew him enough to go to his house, alone, was a stretch.

Although you had been able to shake off your initial fear of him, you still felt something dark and looming in the way he carried himself. For as easy as it was to read him when he was embarrassed or caught off guard, the calculating, sharp gaze he seemed to judge the world with still left you at a loss. Even more so right now, when it was directed at you.

"Ok," you eventually said before you could decide against it. What was the worst that could happen?

At first, you hadn't had much reason to worry; you walked along the main streets that cornered the campus, still filled with quite a few students going about their business. But then, he took you into a small alleyway. And then another, and another, and another, to the point where you couldn't recognize what part of the city you were even in. The buildings you passed had gotten older and older the more you walked, most of the ones surrounding you were now decrepit and abandoned. They loomed over you and Shigaraki, fully blocking the sun, a claustrophobic maze of old bricks and concrete.

You realized that you had drifted closer to Shigaraki unconsciously, your shoulder almost brushing against his. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away, the simple proximity of someone you at least relatively knew reassuring to your mind.

If Shigaraki noticed, he said nothing, his long, lanky legs moving forward without hesitation. You took a moment to discreetly observe the man, his features more detailed now that you stood next to him. The scarring was much worse than you had first realized. It spread from the small glimpses of his forehead you could see behind strands of shaggy white hair, to the start of his chest hidden by his black shirt. In some spots, the skin looked dry, old; in others, it was like it had been freshly ripped apart by sharp and uneven nails. You had found it worrying for yourself, at first, when you thought he was some kind of junkie; but now you found yourself worrying over how much the bruising hurt him.

His hand protectively grabbed his neck when he noticed your staring, thin eyebrows frowning in annoyance.

"Before you ask, yes, I've tried creams and ointment and all that shit the doctors send you to buy at the drugstore. It doesn't work. I know I'm ugly, you don't need to rub it in."

A pang of guilt hit your chest. You didn't think before honestly replying: "I don't think you're ugly."

He looked at you coldly, any trace of friendliness gone: "You think you're real smart playing with me, don't you?"

"No, I mean it, I don't think you're ugly!" you hurriedly exclaimed. "Just, ok, look."

You quickly pulled back the sleeve of your shirt, showing him the inside of your forearm with insistence. His eyes narrowed suspiciously: "What the hell am I supposed to look at?"

"A scar," you replied, showing him the thin pale line that crossed your skin. "I got it as a kid when I fell from a tree in kindergarten. Oh, and I also have this one!"

You tugged at your pants to reveal a darker webbed mark on your ankle, the skin smoothed by time: "That one is really stupid, I got it from wearing heels three sizes too small at my high school prom and falling down a flight of stairs. And I also have this other one-"

"I get it !" he interrupted, frustrated. "Yeah, alright, you have some scars too, but it's not the same thing as me."

"I know it's not," you replied calmly. "I'm not trying to say it is. But... I don't think having scars makes me ugly. I think they show I've been through something, and I'm still here to tell the story. And I think you might have been through a lot, but you're still standing here with me. So... if you don't think my scars make me ugly, then you shouldn't think yours do."

He didn't reply, silently making his way forward. Had you made him feel angrier, or even embarrassed? In one last effort to get your point across, you added:

"I think they kind of make you like Eraserhead in Plus Ultra 3."

That made him stop right in his tracks.

"You...think I look like Eraserhead ?" he hesitantly asked.

You nodded, and his cheeks reddened slightly. He took a few seconds before letting out the next words:

"Don't laugh," he warned you, "or I'm leaving you here. You can just find your own way back or get murked in an alley for all I care."

You crossed your fingers, presenting them to him ceremoniously.

"I won't laugh. Promise."

"I actually decided to grow out my hair to look like him."

Cute.

That was the first word to come into your mind. Cute.

You quickly chased the very strange and unwelcome thought away, in case Shigaraki interpreted your pause as a laugh.

"Well," you replied, "when I was seventeen, I dyed my hair bright yellow to look like All Might. I think I definitely got the short end of the stick in the idea department. "

He laughed, honest to God laughed, a raspy and genuine sound that made something foreign in your chest tightened. You started laughing too, and soon, you were nothing but two giggling idiots in the absolute middle of nowhere.

"Guess you're not that smart after all, miss tutor," he commented with a smirk.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, like he wanted to say something else, but ultimately chose against it. He continued walking without a word, and you followed him the rest of the way in companionable silence, never straying far from his side.

---

It was a bar.

Or rather, the remains of something that once was a bar. A dingy neon sign with the three-letter word hung precariously above the door, the large "B" flashing within an ounce of its life. The walls were covered in graffiti and grime, a suspiciously moldy smell seemingly emanating from the bricks themselves.

"You... live here?" you asked hesitantly as Shigaraki made his way towards the building with no hesitation.

"Yeah," he let out, head snapping back around and eyes narrowing defensively. "You have a problem with that?"

Yes, several, including the probability of being stabbed to death here and my remains being found in the back of a garbage truck.

"No, no problem," you said.

He answered that with a grunt. The small staircase that lead to the entrance creaked under his weight, and he pushed the front door open.

"Wait here," he commanded. It was clear the subject wasn't up for discussion, so you opted for nodding along. "I'll come get you when I'm done with something."

It was all starting to feel like a terrible idea. So what if he liked the same games you did and actually seemed to listen to you rant about literature? You barely knew anything else about him.

You knew he felt lost in society and rejected by the world. You knew his whole face would become red as a tomato anytime he felt embarrassed or flustered. You knew he would bite his lip in concentration when he played on his handheld, and that his leg would bounce up and down like a puppy's tail every time he got close to winning. You knew his eyes were unlike any you had seen before.

But what did you really know?

"You lost ?"

You spun around so fast you stumbled on your own feet, almost falling straight onto the dirty pavement.

The man standing in front of you had sneaked by so silently you had never registered his presence, even with how close he had gotten. He seemed very amused at the way you backed away in fear, your eyes wide.

"No, no I'm fine, I'm- I'm waiting for a friend, actually," you managed to stammer out.

Somehow, he didn't look like he believed that at all.

He was the picture-perfect example of men your parents had told you to stay away from. His skin was covered in dark tattoos, their shapes incomprehensibly mingled with what appeared to be burn scars, seemingly spreading all over his body. In the dark, one could mistake him for a walking corpse, blue eyes glistening unnaturally in the middle of a patchwork face.

The man dragged his cigarette across his lips, letting a dark puff of smoke escape.

"What a friend, making you wait outside in the cold," he commented, the burnt and inked skin around his mouth moving in a manner you could only describe as uncanny. "Pretty stupid of you to hang out with people from here, princess. Lots of creeps in the area."

He moved closer, so close you could smell the tobacco off his breath, and the instinctive need to run coursed through your body.

"No need to be scared though," he let out with a smirk that screamed the absolute contrary. "I can stay with you for a while. Protect ya."

He was too close for you to run, now; if you tried, he could easily grab you with the large hand that was nonchalantly making its way toward your waist.

"Dabi."

Your head spun towards the entrance at the same time as the man's did. Relief spread through your body at the sight of Shigaraki, standing in front of the door where he had left you. His crimson gaze, which usually never left your form alone for more than a few seconds, was not focused on you, but on the stranger, who looked back at you with an utterly flabbergasted expression. Whoever he was, Shigaraki wasn't happy to see him.

"That's your friend ?" the stranger snorted as he started laughing uncontrollably, like he had just heard the funniest joke in his life. "Holy shit, you're even dumber than I thought you were !"

Clearly, Shigaraki did not find that funny in the slightest. You had forgotten how cold his expression had been when you first met him, uncaring and eerie. This was that, but colder, angrier, like the ripples that started forming in the water as a devastating storm would approach.

"Dabi," he repeated, and his tone was dark, final. For the first time in weeks, you felt something akin to fear at the sight of him, even knowing his anger wasn't directed at you. Had he always looked so unnervingly intimidating?

"Ok, ok, she's all yours, boss," the man finally said as he backed away, dropping the butt of his cigarette before unceremoniously stomping it. "Didn't mean to touch the property."

Tomura silently walked towards you, a rigid, cold hand forcefully grabbing yours and pulling you towards him. He headed back in, fingers so tightly clutched against yours that it hurt, and you followed without protest. You threw one last look at the man he called Dabi, a look of pure amusement on his face.

"Property", he had said.

The innards of the bar were much cozier than the outside view let on. It was relatively well kept, with a red counter with a few retro-style stools occupying the majority of the space, the leftover corner dedicated to an old leather couch facing a battered TV. With no windows on the walls, the only light came from a few yellowish neons hanging on the ceiling. The room was empty except for the well-dressed man behind the counter, who you could only assume was the bartender. He merely nodded at your arrival, his face obscured by a cloud of dark hair in the dim light, what you could discern of his body barely a shadow against the wall of bottles.

Shigaraki ignored him, pointedly dragging you to a door at the back, which lead to a small, dark corridor. He only stopped when he reached the last door, swiftly turning the rusty knob.

It wasn't difficult to understand it was his bedroom; the only light came from the double monitor screen connected to an impressive gaming PC. With the exception of a few shelves filled to the brim with trinkets and figurines, the walls were mostly bare, the white coat of paint discolored and yellowed. Visibly dirty clothes were pilled up in a corner, as if someone had hurriedly picked them up for the floor and tossed them there in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal them.

"Sit anywhere," he grumbled, looking away. "Or don't. Whatever."

He was even worse at hiding his blush than he was at hiding his clothes. You couldn't help but smile.

There were only two spots you could sit in the room: the expensive-looking gaming chair, which was clearly the most valuable item in the entire bar, or the messy one-person bed, which seemed to not have seen a washing machine in a while. The last thing you wanted was to anger Shigaraki after the encounter with the man outside, so sitting in his gaming chair seemed like a bad idea. You opted for the bed, praying to God the sheets naturally looked so patchy and discolored.

"W-what the fuck are you doing?" he sputtered immediately as you sat, eyes wide.

"Sitting," you replied simply.

"Not there! Are you stupid or something?" he audibly cringed. Damn it, you had made the wrong call. "Just sit on the floor. It's not dirty or anything, Kurogiri cleaned it recently."

You glanced doubtfully at the impressive amount of energy drinks and used tissues littering the room before lowering yourself down out of fear of seeming rude. Briefly, you wondered if Kurogiri was the man you saw mend to the bar. He looked nothing like Shigaraki, and referred to him far too politely to be family. He was too young to be his father either way. Was he both the bartender and the housekeeper?

"But why would Shigaraki have a housekeeper?", you wondered silently

"The guy outside, Dabi," you finally said. "He called you boss."

Shigaraki didn't even bother turning around to answer flatly: "And ?"

"Do you... own this place?"

"Something like that. Here."

He handed you a controller you immediately recognized, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around it just like with the one you had spent countless hours playing with at home. Shigaraki smirked slightly at the sight of you already being ready for combat.

"So, spill it out. What's your tragic backstory ?" you asked, leaning your back to the wall with a mischievous smile.

"What ?" he replied, seemingly caught off guard.

"C'mon," you pressed. "I've never seen you wear anything other than a black hoodie over a black shirt and black sweatpants. You're not subtle about it."

"I don't think you've unlocked that dialogue option yet," he retorted, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "How about you? What's your tragic backstory ?"

You chuckled: "What makes you think I have one?"

"You'd have to be a little fucked up to follow some guy you barely know into a shady bar in the middle of an abandoned factory district," he replied, raising an eyebrow, a wicked smile on his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at that; he was right. "Well, I don't think you've unlocked that yet either, Shigaraki."

"Just call me Tomura," he offered, a touch of resignation in his voice. Was he finally warming up to you? "Might as well if I'm stuck with you for the rest of the semester."

Maybe not. But something felt oddly nice about this, about him, and no matter how weird it all was, you couldn't help but let yourself bask in the strange feeling.

The computer let out a familiar little tune as the game booted up on the screen. Shigaraki visibly hesitated between sitting on his own chair or the floor, ultimately selecting the floor while keeping a reasonable distance from you. You had a feeling he wasn't very comfortable with women. But what he may have lacked in social skills, he definitely made up in gaming: his eyes burnt with fiery passion as the title screen appeared on the monitor, his hands tight around the controller. The look he threw you was one of pure confidence:

"C'mon. Show me what you're made of."

He immediately selected All Might in the character selection, implicitly daring you to do the same. All Might was the most powerful character in all the game, but he was famously the hardest one to master, with his controls requiring intense speed and dexterity. You could tell Shigaraki hadn't been lying about being one of the greatest All Might players; his fingers were already lined up on the buttons for a noticeably hard deadly combo. But you weren't one to back down on a challenge.

"5 rounds. No bonus power-ups," you smiled right back at him, pressing the button to also select All Might. The screen flashed red as the game loaded the fighting arena.

"You're playing a pretty dangerous game, you know that, player two ?" he commented, a hint of warning in his tone.

"I don't intend on losing," you replied with a grin.

And if the wild spark in his eyes meant anything, neither did he.

#hewwo #This work has been sitting in my drafts for SO long I cant even tell you #All of it is almost fully written #so the other two chapters will be released soon #it will also be on ao3 for all my sweethearts over there once the website is back up #thank you so much for reading ❤❤❤#bnha shigaraki #bnha x reader #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigiraki x reader #mha shigaraki #my hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #this work will be E rated in the next two chapters ❤

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zombryz · 1 year

Text

♡ all my suffering ♡

˗ˏˋ hello ˎˊ˗ & thx for reading :3

Chapter One

masterlist | Next Chapter 2 | ao3 | playlists (still updating) (dabi & shigaraki)

Pairings: Shigaraki x f!reader x Dabi

A/N: ok so, I started writing this following the original storyline of bnha but then somewhere along the way I got the timeline mixed up and then went down my own path. So please be aware this loosely follows the story of bnha.

Summary: You can’t remember who he is but something about him draws you in. While trapped with the LOV, you try to remember your quirk and who you were before. Unknowing to you, your life as a hero left you depressed and swallowed with PTSD from your quirk failing you. Maybe the heroes were wrong and villain's are people too?

Warnings: (current, may change throughout the story) PSTD, Death, depression, angst, abuse (physical and emotional), possessiveness, memory loss, eventual lemon, smut, slowburn

Word Count: 15k

It was the beginning of the school year when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. There was a very faint almond-like aroma in the air. The weather was comfortable, not too cold and not too hot. You had found yourself walking with one foot in front of the other up the all-too-familiar steps of the notorious school for heroes, U.A. High School. Graduating U.A. last school year, you returned to intern with the Youthful Heroine: Recovery Girl, who is the nurse at U.A. High School. Recovery Girl was no stranger to you, you were a student of hers prior to graduating. You had always loved her presence, she was a kind elderly woman who wore a lab coat that was way too big for her. Her quirk was quite similar to yours which made her curriculum feel like it was carved out for you and you only. Her quirk allows her to amplify and speed up the human healing process by kissing them. The only drawback is that it requires large amounts of energy from the subject, rendering them useless for long periods of time while their bodies recover. Your quirk on the other hand was slightly different, you were the Restore Hero: Medela. Principal Nezu was the one to suggest using your quirk in the medical field, he said he was certain you were able to fix anything that had once been broken. After his suggestion, one of your schoolmates, a boy who was in a class below you, had broken his leg. You were then put to the test, Recovery Girl had you use your quirk on the boy. You were nervous but got to working quickly, the boy’s whimpers of pain broke your heart. Once you put your hands on the boy’s leg there was silence and suddenly no more pain, you had closed your eyes while focusing on fixing his broken femur bone. Both Recovery Girl and your schoolmate stared at you in awe while you worked, your hair began to float and you had the gentlest smile spread across your lips. Once you had finished reversing his broken leg you slowly opened your eyes and noticed the boy staring back at you. A rosy heat spread all the way to his pointed ears. Later that day Recovery Girl stormed down to the Principal’s office and demanded that she train you. Here you were a year later returning to work under Recovery Girl. You’re scheduled to spend half of your school week with her and the other half at the hospital working under the nurses as an intern. There was still a lot you needed to learn in the medical field, your quirk just made things easier for you. Your quirk was touch-based which came in handy but unfortunately, you couldn’t be in two places at once. You learned the hard way that you have to come in contact with the dead moments after death in order to revive them. Reviving the dead was an incredible power, however, the first time it didn’t work you had a meltdown, and the accident haunted you for days, months even. You attempted to revive a young man who had been in a tragic car accident, the heroes had brought him in with multiple injuries including a head wound. You ran to the other side of the hospital as fast as you could once you were paged, it was already too late, he had been dead for only a couple of minutes. You held his head in your hands and pressed your forehead to his, your hair began to float but your gentle smile faded, instead it was replaced by a stream of tears. You couldn’t feel him anymore, he was gone. You had failed. The nursing staff tried to comfort you and tell you it wasn’t your fault but it didn’t help. That’s when the hospital requested that you spend some time with Recovery Girl once the new school year started, it would be less intense and you wouldn’t blame yourself for that boy's death every waking hour of the day. Your arrival to U.A. today was in hopes that they were right, you hoped that this would be a breather for you and that you could heal your worries before returning to the hospital full-time.

Once entering U.A. you received a badge that read “student teacher” and you made your way to Recovery Girl’s office. There were a few familiar faces on the way but there was one that stood out to you the most, your first patient ever. The boy with the broken leg appeared to have grown up a lot in the past year. He was now towering over you, his dark hair was much longer and he still looked as shy as the day he was injured. You never learned his name but you smiled at him nonetheless and had hoped he remembered you too. He returned your smile with a toothy grin revealing his fangs and then he immediately got embarrassed and looked down at his feet. After roaming the halls for what felt like forever, you made it to Recovery Girl’s office, the bell ringing right after you entered the doorway.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite student, Y/N,” Recovery Girl made her way over to you with short strides and your face lit up at the sight of her. You bent down to her level so she could hug you and place a kiss on your cheek.

“Hello, Shuzenji! Long time no see,”

Recovery girl left your hug to sit in her chair, she sighed before continuing, her tone was a serious one. “Now Y/N, you know I love you but why are you here? You should be fighting alongside heroes not sitting here with me, I’ve taught you everything I know!” she waved her hands around, her cane following for dramatic effect.

“I-” you began to speak but you were cut off.

“If this is about that boy…. It wasn’t your fault and you know that.” she lowered her voice to show sympathy. You didn’t even know that she knew about that. Her words made you feel guilty for wasting her time.

“I know. I just… needed a break from it all. I don’t think I’m cut out for the hero world Shuzenji, I feel like I can’t breathe and if I walk away from the medical field everyone will hate me because my quirk is perfect for it,” your voice sounded heavy like you were pleading with her while holding back tears. You wanted her acceptance more than anything.

“Now, you know no one will hate you. If time is what you need then I can give that to you,” she jumped down from her chair as if to say she was done speaking on the subject. “Let's start with you making files of all the new students for this year, okay?” Great. She was giving you her office work.

“Sure, I’ll get started on that right away.”

This was going to be a long next couple of months, you could already feel it in your bones.

♡

A few weeks have passed at U.A. high school and you’ve gotten to know a lot of the students. Your most frequent visitor is a first-year boy named Izuku Midoriya who comes in quite often with broken fingers. He has tender eyes, a face full of freckles, and dark green hair. Every time he comes in you give him a hard time, it always ends with you begging him to be more careful. He makes false promises to make you feel better but he always ends up back in here. You think you might have a soft spot for him, he’s such a kind boy and it seems like he is giving his all to becoming a hero. You admire him for it, you don’t have the same motivation. Helping people comes naturally to you but being a hero is giving up your happiness for good. Heroes are always hurting inside, you can see it in their faces.

You were currently in the nurse's office cleaning up the cots for the next kid that wanders in here with an injury. You heard some commotion down the hall and without hesitation you followed the yelling to see where it was coming from and to see if anyone was hurt and needed help. It was a group of teachers, they apparently just found out some troubling news. Class 1-A was attacked at the U.S.J. building by a swarm of villains. Your eyes go wide when you realize that means the villains infiltrated the school.

“I’ll come just in case anyone is hurt!” you said to no one in particular but turned to face the teacher Snipe who only nodded in response.

Once you and your fellow teachers arrived at the U.S.J. it was a total mess, there were unconscious bodies everywhere. It looked like the battle was coming to an end, and in the center of it all, you could see your old teacher Mr.Aizawa, or rather the Pro Hero: Eraserhead, laying flat on his stomach in a pool of blood. Without thinking you attempted to run after him, he needed help and you could provide it. A strong force stopped you before you could continue your way down the stairs. Wrapped around you was one of Snipe’s arms, he was holding you in place, his maroon cape draping over you slightly, and in his other hand was a pistol. You followed its line of sight to where he was aiming, there was a man you had never seen before. He must be a villain. He was wearing all black and was dressed in hands, literal hands, from what you can tell. They were wrapped around his arms, neck, and shoulders. Red wires that matched his shoes were sticking out of the backs of the hands connecting them all together. The creepiest feature was the large hand that covered his whole face. It made you feel uneasy. The sound of gunshots pulled you from your thoughts causing you to turn and face Snipe, who was relentlessly unloading bullets into the Villain in the distance. You watched as a bullet hit his chest, both arms, and legs. He fell to the ground before a dark cloud cast over him, you assumed it was to teleport him back to where he came from. A look of panic spread across your face, you had no idea if the Villain that was before you only moments ago was now dead or not. Snipe still held onto you as he continued unloading bullets into the cloud, he wore a mask but you knew that if his face was bare that there wouldn't be a single bit of emotion behind his shots. The thought of that scared you. Villains were just scum to heroes, but to you, they were people too. It felt like time froze as you looked up at your captor, he finally lowered his weapon and let you go. The panic on your face was replaced with judgment as you furrowed your brows at him. Snipe shook it off and took it as if you were just upset that he wouldn’t let you run down to the war zone. Without exchanging words you turned around to finally run down towards the others.

A few students had helped carry Eraserhead up the stairs, he seemed to be suffering the most damage.

“Don’t worry guys, I got him,” you reached out to help the students lower him to the ground so that you could start healing him. He was unconscious and suffered a very extreme injury to his elbow, you had never seen something so damaging. His muscles surrounding his bones were out in the open, and there was no longer any skin protecting his elbow. His right eye was covered in blood but that injury would have to be treated secondly. If you don’t act now he could have permanent nerve damage. You sat his head in your lap while you grabbed his elbow with both of your hands activating your quirk. Closing your eyes and connecting your forehead to his you felt like something was wrong, you couldn’t feel his elbow healing. When you opened your eyes his elbow looked exactly the same, you began to breathe heavily, a panic sweeping over you. It was happening again, your quirk is failing you. Why? What the fuck is wrong with me? Why is it happening again?

“U-um something’s wrong! Someone help!” your voice was shaky but you were able to speak loud enough for the others to hear you. Shuzenji was the first to rush to your side, she looked Eraserhead up and down. His head was still in your lap while you were fighting back tears. You tried to keep him still so that he wouldn’t be in pain, your thumb gently running over his temples. Shuzenji gave you a look like she knew exactly what was going on, she knew that you weren’t going to be able to heal him.

“We need to get him to my office immediately, hurry!” Shuzenji pounded her cane on the ground multiple times to get the other teacher's attention. Eraserhead was ripped from your arms by Snipe and Present Mic and you were left on the ground of the U.S.J feeling defeated. You weren’t able to help him and you had no idea what you’d done wrong.

♡

After the U.S.J. attack, you learned that the villainous group who broke in went by ‘The League of Villains’, the man who you saw get shot multiple times was known as Tomura Shigaraki, just a boy who was only a few years older than you. This made you sick to your stomach. The news didn’t say whether or not he was alive which still made you uneasy considering the LOV has been quiet since the attack. Luckily, you didn’t have time to think about it much, everyone was too busy preparing for the U.A. Sports Festival, including yourself. You knew there would be a lot of injuries and you had to come ready to assist Shuzenji. Although you've been in your head ever since failing Eraserhead, you were stuck fighting an internal battle. Seeing him wrapped in bandages head to toe definitely pulled on your heartstrings. Apologizing to him didn’t make you feel any better, he shrugged it off and told you that “shit happens'. He gave his life to save the kids of Class 1-A but you couldn’t save him. What an awful feeling, failing.

You had sat in the stadium watching the students battle below you, cringing whenever one of them got hurt. You would rise from your seat and meet them in the nurse's office once they were pulled from the arena. You scolded Izuku for going too hard battling his classmate Todoroki. After healing both of his arms you sent him on his merry way.

The next few weeks at U.A. were a drag, there was a ton of talk about a hero killer in Hosu City. The students were working with pro heroes to train under them so there wasn’t much to do at the school. You wanted to avoid the hospital though so you tried to keep yourself busy. You spent a lot of time with the teachers and even got to go to lunch with All Might a few times. Younger you was fangirling hard. He wasn’t a teacher when you were here last year so you were taking full advantage of getting to know the number one Pro Hero.

“Soooo, All Might... Out of curiosity, have you ever fought Shigaraki before the U.S.J incident?” you looked up at him with big doe eyes while funneling the rest of your ramen into your mouth. You only had a little under an hour for lunch with All Might so you tried to pick his brain as much as possible. You weren’t even sure why you were asking this question, you just couldn’t get the villain out of your head.

“No, young L/N, I have not fought him before. To be honest with you, I am stumped as to where he came from but this isn’t the first time I have had enemies so he is nothing to worry about. I’ll catch him.” he finished his sentence with a hint of sadness in his voice although he was still toothy with his signature All Might smile. Without realizing it, All Might gave you information that he also believes Shigaraki to be alive with that last comment.

You figured he wouldn’t speak any more on the subject so you kept quiet until your time was up. You always swear that All Might is steaming by the time he leaves you. Later that evening you were alone to gather your thoughts. Your stomach dropped at the thought of Shigaraki being alive out there plotting more attacks, but for some reason, you’re also thankful you didn’t watch him die. You wish you could put this fascination of him to rest, or whatever you’d call it. You didn’t like that your mind automatically went to him being shot over and over again.

Even though you knew he was alive now for some reason he didn’t leave your mind. During Class 1-A’s final exams, you just kept thinking back to him, maybe it was because you couldn’t see his face. Why were you so fascinated by him? Maybe you were just bored and U.A. wasn’t as fast-paced as you needed it to be. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you were becoming obsessed with him. The news outlets knew very little about him and it irked you. If only you could just find out who he was and then you could return to normal. He was slowly taking over your mind. When you closed your eyes you saw him, hand over his face and light blue shaggy hair falling around it. Even when you healed Izuku after his final exam with All Might you saw Shigaraki when you closed your eyes. You apparently jolted while healing because Izuku asked you if you were okay.

It didn’t get much better in the days to come, it was now summer for the students and they were going to a camp to get more training. You volunteered to go with them so that Shuzenji didn’t have to. After all, how could the students manage to injure themselves at a summer camp?

You were staying in the same vicinity as Eraserhead and Vlad King. There were no injuries on the first night, just a ton of sore and tired kids. The students had to make their way to the camp down a mountain of forest while fighting a bunch of rock monsters that Pixie-bob, the pussycat hero, created from landslide rocks. The next day you sat around and watched all of the students pushing their quirks to their limits, you almost felt bad for them but you remembered that this was needed for them to know their limits. On the third day of the lodge trip, Pixie-bob and Ragdoll explain a game that the students were going to play called the test of courage. It was a game that would take place in the forest. It was dark already so you knew this game was going to be spooky. Both classes 1-A and 1-B would have scarers and scarees. The class that scared the most students would ultimately win. You decided to hang back with Eraserhead while he taught the supplementary lessons to those who didn’t pass the final exams. You were in the back of the classroom on your phone when you heard an urgent message reverberate through your brain, it was Mandalay using her telepathy to warn everyone about a Villain invasion. Your eyes widened with fear. How did they find this place?

“Y/N, come with me. Everyone else stays put.” Eraserhead signaled you to follow him, there was no hesitation, you got to your feet and met him at the front of the classroom. Technically, you had your Pro Hero license and you were registered as a Pro Hero so if it came down to fighting then fighting was what you were going to do to protect the students. Luckily, on this trip, you were required to wear your Pro Hero costume. You wore a black spandex suit that was easy to move around in. You had black combat boots on and thigh attachments that carried medical equipment on one thigh and a holster to carry knives on the other side. This was in case you had to cut someone out of a seat belt or cut their clothes to allow access to heal them. Your hair was sloppily pulled back in a half up half down bun because you weren’t actually in the field and you knew you wouldn’t get in trouble for being ‘out of uniform’. You were considered a rescue hero but you were also taught hand-to-hand combat at U.A. “I’ll meet you outside, I’m going down the hall to get Vlad.”

“Okay, I’ll get as many students inside as I can,” you replied to which Eraserhead nodded and took off down the hall.

You ran outside and after taking a look around you realized that this was not a good situation. You heard screams coming from the woods and saw what looked like a gas cloud over the distance. You made a mental note to be cautious when breathing if you came too close to it. Suddenly you heard a twig snap to your right and saw a hand reach out toward your face, you ducked just in time and see a wave of blue flames go over your head. If you hadn’t reacted quickly you would’ve quite literally been toast. Thinking on your feet you sweep your foot out and trip your opponent, he falls to the ground and you place your foot on his chest to immobilize him. You only got a quick look at him before he grabbed your foot and sent flames up your calf forcing you to release him. You doubled over in pain from the burns and grasped at your calf noticing his flames burnt your suit up to right above your knee. The fabric was singed into your skin, you quickly healed yourself but your opponent took off inside the building. Fuck. You punched your fist into the ground before rising to your feet to chase after him. You’re met with Eraserhead stomping the man over and over again before he began turning into mud beneath him.

“He was just a clone,” he whispered under his breath but you were close enough to hear him. Great, so the real one is out there somewhere.

“I’m going to go find as many students as I can and escort them back here to safety,” you looked to Eraserhead for confirmation, he quickly nodded and you were out the door.

Avoiding the fog you took off in the opposite direction. Suddenly, you hear Mandalay’s voice once more. Her words rang through your brain, the students were now authorized to battle the villains. This made you less concerned now that the students were able to fight back, although you prayed the kids were strong enough to fight these villains. After escorting a few students from class 1-B back to camp, you continued through the forest in hopes of rescuing more students. In the distance you recognized a few of class 1-A students' voices, it was dark so you squint your eyes to pinpoint their location. From what you could tell it was Todoroki, Bakugo, Shoji, and Fumikage. Silently you started running after them, it wouldn’t be smart to yell out towards them just in case there were any villains lurking around. As you got closer you noticed a head of dark green hair on Shoji’s back. Oh no, Midoriya must be hurt. Finally, you were close enough to get their attention. As you reached your hand out towards them and parted your lips to speak you were stopped abruptly by the force of someone grabbing a hold of you. A large burnt-up hand descended into your peripherals, grabbing a hold of your face to cover your mouth. Their hands were hot but there was an uncomfortableness when you felt cold staples against your lips. When you tried to scream you were met with silence. Unable to see your captor you tried to shake them by rapidly jerking your body. You attempted to head-butt them with the back of your skull as hard as you could but they were much taller than you so you were just met with a hard thud of their shoulder. Your vision went blurry and you could tell you partially knocked yourself out. This captor was too strong for you, your fighting was met in defeat when you noticed a small bluish marble in their other hand. A panic swept over you, were you about to die? Your captor moved the marble towards you and you were met with nothingness. Everything went black, it was as if you were sedated and fell silently asleep.

“I got the healer girl, we have everyone we need, let's get back to the boss.”

♡

Falling in and out of consciousness you felt weightless against someone or something. Whoever they were made you feel tiny in their grasp as you were being held against your will. Once you gained enough energy after waking, you managed to kick and wiggle against your captor but when you tried to let out a scream there was no noise, you were only met with silence and a pounding feeling on the side of your temple. Then there was a terrifying feeling of something warm trickling down your face. Trying to wipe it from your cheek you immediately felt the tension as you realized your hands were bound together behind your back. Your stomach was uneasy as it was pressed against this stranger. You must’ve been thrown over their shoulder and facing the ground behind them. That’s when the panic set in, you couldn’t actually see anything. It was completely dark. Your breathing felt heavy and you were drenched in sweat. After analyzing the situation quickly you came to terms with the fact that there was no escaping the stranger’s grasp, at least right now. From what you could tell, your head was covered with some sort of cloth and your mouth was taped shut so that you couldn’t scream. Closing your eyes you inhaled through your nose as deeply as your lungs allowed. Ouch. That’s when you noticed all of your pain. Either a cracked or bruised rib, the possible gash in the side of your head, and your wrists bloodied from trying to escape. The only noises to be heard were your captors' giant footsteps. It sounded like a dirt path with some scattered gravel. You think it's night, the only information you have to confirm this is the crickets in the distance and how dark it is through the cloth. Maybe you were in the woods? Ugh, this was no use, plus you felt so tired suddenly and with the swaying of your strangers' strides, you couldn’t help but feel like they were rocking you to sleep. Your eyes began to feel heavy and all at once, your head dropped and you were out of consciousness again.

Everything was muffled. There were multiple voices as you stirred yourself awake. It felt like you were maybe tied to a chair. Now that you were grounded you felt extremely dizzy and nauseous. It felt like you were hit by a truck. The cloth was still over your head but this time you were able to see some light shining through. You made a mental note that you were probably inside, the only question remaining was where? There was dried blood all over your face. The blood extended to your right ear and dried up, slicking your hair back and knotting it together. With the movement of your stirring awake, you must’ve opened the gash more causing another warm substance to trickle down your face, down your cheek, and finally pooling in the crevice of your collarbone.

“Oh, yummy! She’s bleeding,” a young girl spoke over the rest of the voices, you could hear her musical footsteps approaching you as she skipped over. She started humming in your ear and then you felt her finger gather the pooling blood on your clavicle like how you would gather leftover sauce on your plate. You were still unable to see her but this action made you wince.

“Don’t touch her Toga, and stop being a pain in my ass,” another voice chimed in, it was deep and soothing, almost like a crackling fire. Whomever it belonged to sounded dangerous.

“Sorry Dabi,” the girl retreated, backing away from you. You were relieved of this until suddenly someone ripped the cloth bag off of your head. The light was almost blinding, your ears started ringing and you flinched away trying to let your eyes adjust. Through heavy lashes, you looked up at the group that captured you. They were all hovering over you and you felt like their prey just sitting there tied to a chair, like a lamb to the slaughter. Your eyes tracked a figure in the background that was walking towards the scene. He looked oddly familiar but for some reason, you can’t remember why. Everyone parted allowing access to the stranger amongst strangers. He was tall and skinny, he wore all black aside from his bright red sneakers. The most concerning part was that of his face, although it wasn’t a face really. It was a hand. Laying over his face was a decomposing hand. Creepy. It was shaped like that of a man’s left hand and at the end of the wrist was a gold-plated block. His shaggy blue hair fell on the sides of his face and parted through the slits of the hand’s fingers. Through the hand’s middle and index finger was his eye, he was looking at you curiously as you stared back at him with curiosity for him as well. The moment was intense and everyone in the room fell silent while he kneeled in front of you, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He was rough with his touch causing you to wince.

“Strange. Why aren’t you screaming? Don’t you know who we are?” His voice was much raspier and high pitched than you expected. Although he was touching you, for some odd reason, you weren’t scared of him. You almost didn’t feel anything at all, complete stillness.

“No, am I supposed to know who you are?” it hurt to speak, your voice came out strained and low. It felt similar to a child being lectured and knowing they were in trouble.

“I suppose not,” he let go of your chin aggressively, not liking your answer. Your chin felt empty where his hand once was and the heaviness of your body gave in, you couldn’t keep your head up any longer. That’s when he noticed how bad the gash in your head was. Your ear was covered in blood making it hard to hear, you were sure that some of it pooled into your ear drum. The ominous man turned on his heels to face the rest of his group. “Nobody touches her unless I say so, got it?” his voice was deeper when he spoke to them. It was more authoritative. This confirmed your suspicions of him being their leader, whoever he was. You watched him closely while he was turned away. His hair fell at the backside of his shoulders, giving him access to his neck. He looked lean and pale. That’s when you noticed all the scratch marks that infested the underneath of his jawline. His skin was very dry and irritated. The girl from before frowned at his order and with eyes drunk in desperation, she smiled at you before skipping away. The rest of the group started dispersing before the faceless man turned to another man who was leaning against the wall nonchalantly. He had a dark presence and was wearing a black overcoat with what looked like heavy metal sleeves.

“Clean and stitch her up,” the leader pointed at you with a nod. The other man stood up and walked closer to him. Once he was under the light you noticed his facial scarring. He had a smile made of staples that went from earlobe to earlobe. His under eyes were also covered in staples and his facial scarring almost looked a purple hue. When he noticed you staring at him his eyes met yours and you nervously looked away. Before you did you caught a glimpse of how piercingly blue his eyes were.

“C’mon boss, make Toga do it,” the dark-haired man complained, he must be Dabi. You recognized his voice from earlier when the Toga girl apologized to him. He looked agitated, it made sense. He was probably in so much pain, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was angry all the time.

“Toga would drain her, just do it Dabi,” the blue-haired leader sighed, he also seemed annoyed. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were here or why they went through the trouble of kidnapping you if they think of you as so much of a burden.

“Fine, but just because you don’t think I’ll ‘drain’ her doesn’t mean I’m going to play nice,” he retorted, ending the conversation with his boss. He trudged towards you with haste in each step. Before you knew it he stood before you, his crystal blue eyes staring down at you, bewilderment hiding behind such anger and pain. You looked at him through your lashes, not sure what he wanted you to do. He lowered himself to untie you from the chair, making sure that your hands were still bound together. You weren’t even sure if you would consider yourself a danger to him. Even without the knowledge of his quirk, you were almost positive he could overpower you. Wait, what was your quirk again? You didn’t have long to ponder this question before Dabi picked you up and draped you over his shoulder. He held the back of your legs tightly while carrying you across the room. At this angle you finally got to look at your surroundings, you were in a cozy little bar. The room was filled with cigarette smoke and there was soft music playing. As you were carried out of the room you saw the man with a hand for a face sitting at the bar, whisky in hand, his pinky in the air while he held the glass. Only now, the hand that was on his face was placed on the bar top as you would place your wallet or car keys on an ordinary night out drinking. He watched you in silence while Dabi carried you away into the darkness. His hair fell too low past his eyes for you to be able to see any more of his face. He was still such a mystery to you.

Dabi carried you past the bar curtains and down a long dark hallway. You wanted to talk to him but you knew that whatever questions you asked, he probably wouldn’t answer. Annoying him wasn’t in your best interest. It was at this moment that you noticed he wasn’t the same man that carried you in earlier. Whoever, or whatever they were, were on a much bigger scale. Their steps were pounding, unlike Dabi’s only slightly heavy steps. It seemed like Dabi could be sneaky if he wanted to. Maybe he felt comfortable here? Maybe these people were his family? You didn’t get a chance to overanalyze before you were pulled out of your head by Dabi dropping you to your feet. He started pushing you through a door and you silently obeyed. You were still facing him and behind him was what looked like a bedroom, there was a bed on the floor in the corner and blackout curtains over the windows. There was scattered trash everywhere and the room was lit only by a single blue UV light that was fixed over a snake terrarium.

“C’mon, stop wasting time,” he finally spoke as he grabbed your shoulders to spin you around towards the bathroom. Once you had your back towards him you looked up at the mirror across from the door and went wide-eyed. You panicked falling backward into Dabi causing him to trip and fall back into the room, you landed in between his legs and immediately started crying into his chest. Your arms were still bound together so you weren’t able to hug yourself and curl into a ball like you so badly wanted to. Dabi was extremely confused and annoyed at this point, he huffed as he got back up and manhandled you into going back into the bathroom. You cried, kicked, and screamed but it was no use. Dabi was stronger and dragged you along with him. He took out a knife and cut the bounds that held your wrists together before he shoved you into the bathtub. You fell to your knees in the tub and just stared at your hands, tears still streaming down your face.

“Stop being a brat! What’s wrong? Huh?” he raised his voice at you, he couldn’t believe he was the one who got stuck with this job.

The room was filled with silence, only your sniffles filled the awkward tension in the cold tub. “I-I don’t recognize who that was in the mirror. I don’t think I remember who I am. I’ve been trying to think of my name since arriving here and I can’t…” You managed to get out through broken cries. “Did something happen to me? Who am I?” you finally looked up at the man covered in staples. His face was neutral but once he locked eyes with you his face softened in the slightest. He looked away and sighed before kneeling down so that the two of you were face to face, inches apart.

“Listen, sweetheart, I don’t have all the answers… I’m just following orders.” his voice was low and gruff, you could tell he wasn’t lying to you. He scanned your face and gathered that you weren’t satisfied with that answer, it only sturred more confusion for you. “All I know is that the league kidnapped you for your quirk and that your name is Y/N,” your eyes left your hands to look at him, your sweet, tear-filled eyes met his pained ones and over the course of this conversation he seemed to become more gentle with you. You weren’t sure why that was but that’s not important right now. He is answering your questions which means he is proving to at least be a trusted ally… for now.

“Y/N?” you repeated after him, it sounded foreign on your tongue. None of this was making sense to you. With a confused look you met Dabi’s eyes once more, “What is a ‘league’ and..” you paused before asking, just to be sure that you couldn’t remember, “Dabi, what’s my quirk?” you pouted. Tears started streaming down your face once more. You couldn’t remember anything and it was tearing you apart inside. Dabi looked at you with pity, he didn’t always feel bad for others, especially with how everyone treated him and cast him out of society, but right now, at this moment he actually felt sorry for you. Part of Dabi also envied you, he would give anything to forget everything like you have. Even if only for a little bit. Dabi was pulled from his thoughts when you repeated his name, “Dabi?”

“I, uh… we are a group called the league of villains,” he quickly brushed over that part so that you wouldn’t panic again but to his surprise, you didn’t, you just listened to him carefully, “Shigaraki wanted you for your healing abilities, I don’t know the details of your quirk but that's all that I know.”

Healing abilities? Shigaraki? Was that the leader’s name? God, why couldn’t you remember anything? This was all so frustrating. You sat in the tub, cold, exhausted, and in pain. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your temple, brushing the hair away from your face. Dabi was moving the hair from your blooded side to get a better look at the gash. He moved in closer to your face and adjusted your head downwards, at this angle you were so close to his neck. You stared at his Adam's apple while he tilted your head at different angles, examining you. He smelt like cigarette smoke, fire, and leather. It wasn't a bad combination but it definitely suited him.

“I think you losing your memory has something to do with this,” he poked at the gash in your head and you winced. Dabi grabbed your chin to get a good look into your eyes. “Yeah, your pupils are two different sizes, that’s not good.” You couldn’t help but look at his staples, at this close proximity all you wanted to do was touch them, run your fingers over them and ask him about how he became this way, why he joined the league in the first place but you stopped yourself.

“Wait, what do you mean that’s not good?” your voice betraying you, accidentally letting the worry seep through.

“I don’t know, kid, I’m not a doctor.” Dabi lets go of your chin and stands up. Hovering over you, he takes the shower head and yanks it down so that it's closer to your head. He squats once again in front of you and leans over to turn the water on. On the other end of the tub, he checks to make sure the water is warm before bringing it back to you. The stream hits your gash and at first it stings but then you sink into the warm water and it feels really nice. You close your eyes and let all the dried-up blood run down your face and rinse out of your hair. Dabi watches as you lose yourself in the feeling, he has to hold back the urge to run his hands through your hair to give you a proper bath and massage your scalp. He feels bad for being the reason you lost your memory. If you hadn’t headbutted him so hard when he met you in those woods. He told Shigaraki that he wasn’t going to play nice. You’re the enemy, you work alongside heroes. Well, you didn’t know that, right? He didn’t expect you to be like this. Your memory is gone. Dabi could shape you into the perfect villain with Shigaraki’s help. You unconsciously smile up at him while he’s thinking about all the ways of making you evil. He nearly drops the shower head. There it is, a smile. Your smile. Oh no, Dabi couldn’t take this. He didn’t like the feeling that he just felt in the pit of his stomach. He shoves the shower head into your palm and walks away. He padlocks the bathroom door and takes off down the hall with his hands in his pockets. Dabi loudly knocks on his boss's bedroom door and is met with an exhausted and annoyed Shigaraki. His collection of hands splayed on his desk behind him and his face droops in exhaustion. “What is it Dabi? Have you fixed her up yet?” he wipes his eyes and yawns, it is now clear that Dabi had woken his boss up from sleeping.

“She doesn’t remember who she is. She suffered a bad head injury and didn’t even know what her quirk was. I think we can use this to our advantage.” Dabi lowers his voice, not wanting to alarm the others.

“I see, very well then..” Shigaraki thinks for a moment before talking again, “but if she doesn’t remember how to use her quirk and is no longer of use to the league. I’ll dust her,” he responds with a slightly menacing grin. “I don’t care where she sleeps but don’t let her out of your sight, she's your responsibility tonight.” Dabi nods and makes his way back down the hallway. He stops by Toga’s room grabbing some clothes for you to change into. Toga offered to help but Dabi told her to stay away from you or he’d roast her.

Once he’s back in his room he takes off his overcoat and unlocks the door to the bathroom. “You left me,” you say looking up at him with a pitiful look in your eyes. The shower was still going but you were just sitting there, not holding on to the shower head anymore. Dabi walks over and turns off the shower.

“I went to grab you some clothes.” he hands you a towel, it was not very clean but you suppose anything was better than nothing. You flip your head and start towel drying your hair and immediately regret it. Ow, fuck, that hurts. “You’re hurting yourself more, come here stupid,” Dabi demands and you get out of the tub to stand directly in front of him. His height made him tower over you, which was also good for him so that he could get a better look at your head. He gently patted the area and handed you Toga’s clothes once your hair was no longer drenched, “Get dressed, and then I have to patch you up.” With that, he exited the room. You looked at the outfit that was handed to you, a black t-shirt and some yellow shorts with strawberries on them, it’ll work for the night. You opened the door and Dabi had his back facing you. You noticed he wasn’t wearing the black overcoat anymore. Just a black t-shirt and his dark pants. He looked over his shoulder at you so you could just see the bridge of his nose, his hair fell on the side of his face, probably from the humidity of the bathroom. In the blue lighting, he looked much more brooding than before, his face turned down. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” you replied unsurely, you really didn’t know how bad your cut was but you decided against better judgment, to trust Dabi. He had you sit on the toilet seat cover so that he could work on your head. He used alcohol and steri-strips. He was pretty good at this, your cut barely hurt when he touched it.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have to use staples or stitch you up. That would’ve been a pain in the ass.” he lightly chucked and it made your heart flutter. You couldn’t help but stare at him, although you were the one who was vulnerable in this state, it seemed as though he also let his guard down a bit. “Done.” he lets out a huff before backing away from you to get a good look at his handy work. You were now sitting on the toilet legs criss crossed and the big t-shirt draped over your knees. Dabi didn’t allow his eyes to go any lower.

“So what now?” you ask, staring up at him like a lost puppy. You needed direction. Not remembering who you were, how to use your quirk, not even remembering your name, what you looked like. You felt lost and right now, Dabi was the only person you felt you could trust.

“I guess for tonight, you’re my responsibility,” he was looking into your eyes now, those piercingly blue eyes, heavily lidded with something you couldn’t decipher. Tiredness, maybe?

“Okay.”

You follow Dabi back into his bedroom, the blue light is flickering in the corner above the terrarium, and everything else is in the shadows. You were able to see the creature now, it was an albino python, it menacingly slithered to the top, hitting its head on the glass, aching to escape. You wondered if that’s how you should feel, being here, with these people. Why are you not afraid of them? Shigaraki asked why you weren’t scared and you didn’t have an answer. They’re all strangers but you don’t feel frightened in their presence. Dabi pulls you out of your thoughts when you hear a metallic click, “Woah, wait, what are you doing?” Your heart is racing, you don't want to be bound again. Your wrists are still sore from before, why did he have to handcuff you?

“Relax doll,” Dabi takes the other handcuff and attaches it to his own wrist, bounding the two of you together instead. He takes the key and drops it into the snake’s cage. “I can’t let you out of my sight, this is the only way I can get some sleep too.” You didn’t like this. It’s not like the thought of escaping hasn’t crossed your mind but where would you go? You didn’t even know where you lived or if you had a cellphone. The best idea was to just stay put. Dabi climbs into his bed and shuffles under the blanket. You’re still standing a few feet from the bed, as much as yours and his wing span allow. His arm is floating above his head still attached to you, “Are you coming or what?” he retorts, you couldn’t really see him but you could hear it in his voice that he was liking this.

“No way, I’ll sleep on the floor,” you started lowering yourself when Dabi yanks you into bed with him, catching you in his chest. It was honestly annoying how comfortable this was. Your head was under his chin and your arms were above your head, being used as pillows. Your eyes quickly got heavy and you could feel the sleep washing over you. Dabi adjusted the blanket so that it covered you both.

“So, you don't want to be a brat anymore?” he chuckled slightly and you could feel his chest rise and fall beneath you. Your body was so worn out, and you were still so cold. Maybe from the loss of blood or maybe because your hair was still wet, you couldn’t decipher it. The only thing you knew was that Dabi was so warm. Your teeth started jittering uncontrollably. Dabi must’ve noticed because he took his free hand and set it on top of your bare thigh. You didn’t have any fight left in you to argue with him. Accepting your fate you nuzzled deeper into his chest, eliciting a blush from Dabi. “Here, I can help…” his voice slightly above a whisper sending chills down your spine. You weren’t sure what he meant but not too long after you felt heat radiate from his palm. Almost immediately you stopped jittering. This must be his quirk. You hum in comfort and cuddle deeper into Dabi’s chest without thinking.

As you close your eyes you could feel Dabi’s breathing start to steady, his free arm moved up until it was draped over your waist as he held you close to him. There was one question still stirring in your mind, “Hey…” you started, Dabi hummed in acknowledgment, “Was I a hero or a villain before I lost my memory?” there was a long pause, you figured he just fell asleep but then,

“You were a vigilante, that's why we had to kidnap you, you didn’t join us willingly” the lie rolled so smoothly off his tongue, he had you right where he wanted you. Like a mouse cornered by a snake. “Can any other questions wait until tomorrow?”

“Sure, goodnight Dabi,” and just like that, he was out like a light. You followed suit and drifted soundly to sleep in his arms.

The throbbing pain emitting from your skull wakes you up. There’s no telling what time of day it is. The room is still very dark but when your eyes finally adjust you notice a small amount of sun peaking through the black-out curtains at the end of the bed. You remember everything from yesterday but when you try to think of anything before that you are left with nothing but a pounding headache. You extend your arm to try and soothe the ache coming from your head when you realize you’re still handcuffed to a scarred and stapled hand. A loud thud from the bar pulls your attention and is followed by loud voices traveling down the hallway creating a doppler effect. To your surprise, when you look back over toward your wrist you see that Dabi was still sleeping. His face was directly in front of yours, he looked so blissful while he slept. It was as if all his pain was washed away. Letting your eyes trail down his body you see that your leg is draped over his waist and his hand is tightly holding the back of your thigh as if you’d disappear if he let go. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. When you pulled your leg away Dabi jolted awake and sat up in bed, yanking you along with him. You were pulled into his lap and the two of you were tangled in the sheets. Ouch. The tension of the handcuff was starting to hurt your already bruised wrist causing you to wince in pain.

“I thought we were being attacked,” Dabi’s morning voice was hoarse and deep. He groaned as he rubbed his eyes awake, careful to not pull out his staples. He had tugged you close to him accidentally, close enough now to where your head is placed near his heart. His heart was racing. This made you feel bad for startling him.

“I don’t know if we are, there was a loud bang and people yelling outside the door.” you retort, looking up at him and finally seeing those piercing blue eyes again. He looks down at you, meeting your eyes. His hair is all fluffy and messy. Despite that, he looks much more rested than yesterday, you wonder if you look rough or well-rested also. After seeing yourself in the mirror yesterday, you decided you didn’t want to know. Another loud thump coming from the bar causes Dabi to actually jump out of bed this time, dragging you along with him. This is when you notice that he is not wearing pants. He was just in black boxer shorts and a black tee. When did he take his pants off? There’s no time for questions as he pulls you within arm's length behind him, straining your already bruised wrist. Waddling behind his pale legs you keep having to catch yourself because you’re tripping over something. The blanket is bundled around your ankles and your free arm has the blanket wrapped around your torso. With all the commotion and Dabi not stopping, you figured it was easier to run with the blanket than try to untangle yourself. When you enter the bar you see Toga, the blonde girl from before standing on the bar top. There’s a man in a black and white skin-tight spandex suit trying to catch her. Her laugh fills the bar and you realize they’re playing tag. There’s a broken wine bottle on the floor which must’ve been one of the noises you heard from the bedroom. In the corner of the bar, you see who you now know to be the League’s leader, Shigaraki, sitting by himself sipping on something dark. Isn’t it the morning, why is he drinking so early? Well, I suppose there’s nothing better to do. There is a dark cloud figure with a purple aura behind the bar, they seem to be drying off glassware with a white rag. You’re a little confused by what they are, they’re dressed in a nice vest and black dress pants. Their neck is encapsulated in a metallic cone. Yellow eyes stare directly back at you.

“Well, good morning love birds!” Toga sings with a sadistic grin creeping across her face. She then jumps off the bar top into the other league members' arms, he spins her around before setting her down.

Dabi looks away from them, not wanting to acknowledge her comment. When you look down at your feet covered in a blanket and back at Dabi in boxers handcuffed to you, you realize this is suggesting only one thing.

“Oh, no, no, no, we didn’t…” you plead by shaking your hands, your eyes shifting back and forth from Toga to Shigaraki who looks like he does not care to be a part of this conversation. He is facing away from everything, quietly sipping his glass before setting it down on the table in front of him. His annoyance takes over and he gets up slowly to make his way over to you and Dabi.

“Oooo, someone’s in trouble” Toga adds, still smiling.

You’re too nervous to look him in the eyes as he walks over to you both. His presence is menacing and makes you uneasy. He walks up to Dabi and speaks directly to him, completely ignoring your presence. You finally look over at him and for the first time you see his eyes and they are almost more piercing than Dabi’s, there’s so much pain and numbness behind them and you can feel every bit of it. They’re the opposite color of Dabi’s, a deep red, very fitting for someone like him. He doesn’t take his eyes off Dabi while he continues to ignore you. To your surprise, he doesn’t actually scare you despite the tear rolling down your face betraying your feelings. Shigaraki is a force to be reckoned with, you can feel the power radiating from him. The others must either fear him or know the destruction he can cause at a whim. He is also so much taller than you expected him to be, his stature making him that much more terrifying.

“Don’t blame her for any of this. I handcuffed her so I could finally get some sleep.” Dabi tsked and looked away from him annoyed, not actually wanting to say anything but instead he stood up for you. Shigaraki didn’t change anything about his position, his eyes panned their way to yours threatening you with just a look, a silent conversation between the two of you. He crept low to meet your ear, your breath escaping you when he got closer.

“I brought you here to heal my comrades, not fuck them.” his voice barely above a whiny but stern whisper and loud enough so that Dabi could hear. He sounded cold, this made you feel like you were already on his bad side and your eyes widened in worry. But, you do have a healing quirk? That confirms it. He stands to his full height once more equally as terrifying as before. Still handcuffed to Dabi, you wanted to wipe the tear that rolled down your cheek but you couldn’t.

This time Dabi raised his voice, startling you. “Who cares if we did,” He turns his body, done with this interrogation and ready to drag you back to the bedroom. He looks back at his leader over his shoulder, “You didn’t claim her, so what does it matter?” a small grin appears on his face, if you weren’t already looking at him you wouldn’t have noticed this in the tone of his voice. It almost feels like this is his way of laying claim to you now. First, before Shigaraki can.

“You’ll soon learn that everything here is mine,” Shigaraki replies nonchalantly before walking back over to his spot in the corner booth. It seems like he doesn’t care either way. You have no choice but to follow Dabi back to the bedroom, tripping over the blanket down the hallway once more. Holding the chain of the handcuff to keep the pressure off your wrist, you walk forward looking back, not taking your eyes off Shigaraki. Healing quirk? Everything here is his? Does he think you and Dabi had sex? Great. More confusing than just losing your memory.

When you enter Dabi’s bedroom once more you’re finally hit with the realization that you’re still attached to him. “Can you please unhandcuff me?” you ask flatly, standing in his room feeling small and confused. You’re not guilty of what Shigaraki made it seem like you were and for some reason now you were thinking about actually sleeping with Dabi. Would you? No, No, you shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. “Please,” you beg once more when you notice him just staring at you, this time you gave him a look of defeat.

“C’mon princess, why don’t we just sleep the rest of the day away?” he shrugs, his tone matching his seriousness. He slowly pulls you over to the bed with him using the shackles of the cuffs. You obey tiredly, not wanting or willing to fight him. The exhaustion sets on your face. “Fine, but if you try to run away just know... I’m fast,” Dabi looks at you with a soft gaze, his attempt at getting a laugh from you failed. Instead, he goes to rub your jaw where his boss left a mark last night but you yank away before he gets the chance. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to check your cut from yesterday,” he plays off your rejection so smoothly. He sits on the bed and you’re standing inches away from him. This time you let him grab your face, inspecting your head gash that he fixed up the night before. You have no reason not to trust him at the moment.

“Dabi, I can’t remember anything about who I was or how to use my quirk… I don't feel very useful... What should I do?” your voice comes out much smaller than you meant for it to, worry takes over your face and your eyes wet your cheeks. Dabi gently rubs your temple as you speak to him in such a pitiful way. He’s not trying to be sweet, really he isn’t, but for some reason, he is with you. His intrusive thoughts invade him. He wants to tell you everything will be okay and hold you until you feel better. He’s starting to notice how much of a toll you’re taking on him. That’s enough, he thinks. He jerks his hand away from your temple and pulls away from the physical touch completely.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” he tsks. He sounds annoyed now. “If I were in your shoes, I would see this as an opportunity to start over. Completely, with no regrets about the past. What have you always wanted to do?” he asks while staring at the wall. Anything to keep his eyes off of you at this moment. He spreads his legs and leans back in the bed, trying his best to keep his mind preoccupied. Your sniffles come to a stop while you ponder that question. What have you always wanted to do? That should be something written in your DNA, right? Something that would never change, no matter how few memories you have of yourself. While you’re thinking, you let your exhaustion take over and slide down to sit on your knees so that you’re almost positioned between Dabi’s legs. He must’ve noticed this because he releases a big sigh like he had been holding his breath. Dabi is frozen and doesn’t know what your intentions are.

“I’ve always wanted peace. I’m not sure if that’s a dumb answer but I’ve only ever wanted to bring about peace and protect people. The ones that can’t protect themselves anyways,” you say with wide glossy eyes, the passion of your statement seeping from your voice. The rehearsed line left your lips so easily as if it were a memory that was beaten into you without you even knowing. Like something your marketing team would tell you to say in an interview, like something that wasn’t true. After your little peace speech, your eyes meet Dabi’s who were already locked onto you. His gaze softened as if he were staring at a sleeping puppy. If you didn’t know any better you would think it was more in awe than in pity. He notices that he’s been looking at you far too long so he clears his throat and looks away. If his cheeks weren’t already covered in scars and staples, you would’ve gained a small blush from the man.

“You sound like a goody two shoes.” Dabi retorts, slapping his knees while simultaneously getting up off the bed. This signals you to leave the comfort of the floor and your comfortable spot in between his legs. The motion of standing up quickly really hurts your head. Your heartbeat pounds at the sides of your skull. “If we’re not going to go back to sleep then I’m leaving, I have to take care of some things anyways. I’ll bring you to Toga or Twice. They can watch you for the day,” his voice now monotone when he speaks, refusing to look at you. He moves in front of you and a pout crosses your face. He is the only one you can trust right now if you could even call it that. Dabi then reaches over your shoulder to grab the key out of the snake’s cage. You don’t turn around to follow his hand, instead, you watch his body and see that his black T-shirt is all worn out, probably from washing it and hanging it up to dry too many times, leaving the material stretched and wrinkled. The once v-neck of the shirt leaves his chest exposed showing off his equally scared and stapled chest. He is more defined than you thought he would be, his pecs and arms having more muscle than he lets off. Right above his right pec where his shoulder meets his clavicle you notice a large bruise right before the start of his scarred and stapled chest. You feel responsible for this injury but you don’t know why. Your face is burning up the longer you stare at him. In the back of your mind, you have the urge to get closer to him, to close the gap between your bodies.

Dabi follows your eyes to his chest while uncuffing you from him, “Like I said, we could stay in bed all day princess,” his voice comes out gruff trying to break the tension.

“Did I do this?” you ignore his comment, slowly raising your uncuffed hand to his chest to rub the bruise with your thumb.

“Yeah”

Dabi stares at you while you stare at the bruise.

“I’m sorry”

“No, don’t sweat it. I was the one kidnapping you, remember? I would’ve hurt me too. Plus, I think I owe you an apology for that gnarly head injury and erasing your memories…”

“No, no, it’s ok” you let a little bit of sadness sneak into your soft smile, “I am part of the league now so I should probably get to know the rest of its members and be a part of this group,” you practically ignored his apology. Part of you does want to crawl in bed with Dabi and just sleep the day away, after all, your head is pounding but it's smarter to start trying to figure out what you’re doing here and remember who you are. Maybe talking to someone other than Dabi will help.

Dabi drops you off at Toga’s room which is surprisingly cute despite how scary she can be. There are posters of boys all over her walls, no heroes though, mostly just boy bands. There are neon lights hanging around the room, a small tv, and even a few dying plants in the corner. There are even cute strawberry sheets on her bed that's covered in stuffed animals. You find her sitting down on the floor next to her bed painting her nails when you enter the room. The man you learned to be Twice is also on the floor next to her laying down on his stomach with both of his feet kicking in the air as he watches her paint her nails. You feel a little awkward especially since Dabi didn’t really introduce you, he sort of just pushed you in and disappeared.

“Oh, Medela! Come sit, I’ll paint your nails,” Toga’s signature creepy smile appears once again on her lips. She stands up and grabs your hand to guide you down to where they were sitting previously. You didn’t really have a choice so you sat down next to twice uncomfortably. Toga aggressively grabs your hand and starts painting your nails pink.

“Medela?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Togaaa, we weren’t supposed to tell her that...” Twice looked at her through his mask, “YES WE WERE!” He suddenly yells, causing you to jump back. “Sorry, that was the other me…” he returns to a normal voice and apologizes sweetly. You give him a fake smile and go back to looking at Toga.

She considers him for a moment and decides to look up at you instead, “Yeah, that's your hero name silly! Don’t you remember?” she says in a sing-songy voice moving onto your thumb.

“No actually, I don’t..” you sigh loudly, more to yourself than to Toga. She doesn’t even seem to care about your answer because she goes on humming to herself as she sloppily paints a bright pink across your bitten nail beds. After your nails are done but still drying, Toga gets up to turn on a few lamps to illuminate her bedroom. It was getting dark outside so there was no more light coming from her window. The league must be on different sleep schedules because the day went by so fast, meaning you and Dabi probably woke up in the late afternoon. Twice left a little bit ago and Toga is staring blankly at the TV watching what looks like a romance anime. As you were staring at your nails, inspecting how poorly she painted them you heard a thud coming from the bar. You look at Toga in fear but she doesn’t even move a muscle, still glued to her TV. When you hear a second thud you get up quickly to go check it out, not really thinking about how earlier in the day the thuds were nothing but Toga and Twice playing tag. Maybe it's curiosity or maybe it's your second nature, but you were already halfway down the hallway when you heard a man’s voice. Something about it seemed familiar, almost like you had heard it in a recording before but you couldn’t remember.

“The word hero has lost all meaning in this society, the world is overrun by fakes and criminals like you who chase petty dreams,” you reach the end of the hall and can no longer tell what the man is saying but then you recognize Shigaraki’s voice so you pull back slightly at the curtain in the doorway between the bar and the hall, trying not to be seen or heard. You can hardly see past the booths, but what you do see is a tall figure with a white mask over his eyes and a long red bandana tied to his forehead pinning down Shigaraki with what looks like an old katana. The katana is going through Shigaraki’s shoulder and this makes your eyes widen, he’s hurting him.

“It seems we have opposing goals,” Shigaraki’s voice comes out breathy, confirming that he was hurt. He goes to grab the katana with his bare hands making you flinch at the sight. He needs help, he's getting desperate. Maybe you can distract the perpetrator?

“Stop, you’re killing him!” you bust through the curtain, not really sure what to do from here but you're hoping maybe one of the others will come running if they hear. Shigaraki rolls his head back to look at you through the hand covering his face. The man hovering over him looks up at you and pulls out another bladed weapon.

“You had a hero here the whole time? I thought you hated heroes as much as I do,” he said to Shigaraki while taking you in, you weren’t in your hero costume but he recognized your face. “Now you’re a tricky one, but alas, you’re still nothing but a false hero,” he runs at you and you have to think quickly so you take off towards the bar, to maybe use the bar top to your advantage. You’re still looking at Shigaraki who realizes what's happening and lays his final finger down on the blade that is still impaled in his chest. The blade that was so deep in his chest cavity dissipates and turns to dust. With wide eyes you finally understand why everyone is so scared of him, he completely dusted the sword. He would’ve been completely fine fighting this strange man by himself. You shouldn’t have intervened. As you’re piecing this puzzle together you jump on top of the bar, the man who is chasing you swings his sword, and you duck, causing him to hit the bar top with his blade, the wood splinters and flies everywhere. He jumps on the counter to get closer to you so you run and jump to a booth across from the bar trying your hardest to get away from him. You don’t have any weapons and this man is trying to kill you, it sucks that you can't remember what your quirk is. A dead end, you’re cornered, and for some reason you picked the corner booth with nowhere else to go. Probably because you were distracted by Shigaraki’s quirk. You contemplate going back the way you came but you would be greeted with the man’s sword and to your left is a wall. Great, you’re going to die because you can’t remember how to fight. What the fuck do you do now? Standing on top of the table prepared to fight back in order to survive as if your fight or flight response is finally kicking in. When you turn around to face the bar, the strange man is positioning his sword, ready to take flight with a jump and go for the kill. Your body tenses and you’re ready for what happens when suddenly Shigaraki steps between the both of you with his back facing you. He’s bleeding out slowly, both of his shoulders are covered in blood and it's starting to soak his shirt. He held his arms out to defend you. The movement of his arms makes him whimper softly in pain. He no longer had the hand covering his face, he abandoned it on the ground where he was laying only moments ago.

Shigaraki chuckles, his laugh breathless and manic. “Hero Killer Stain,” he moves his palm to position it in front of the man attacking you. “Touch her” he pauses to take a small breath, “and I will destroy you,” he stands up straight and takes a step back closing the gap between him and the table you’re standing on.

The hero killer steps off the bar and sheaths his sword. “Oh I see, so you’re a traitor to the heroes then, so tell me what cause do you fight for?” he grins, excited about you possibly having the same ideals as him.

“My cause,” Shigaraki hisses without giving you a moment to respond. He sounds irritated which you’re now learning is probably just a personality trait of his. “I think it's about time you leave, don’t you? Kurogiri, take this guy back…” The warp villain creates a portal in front of the hero killer and he accepts his dismissal.

“Fine. Just don’t get in my way,” he states coldly without looking back at you or Shigaraki.

You take a moment to catch your breath and jump down from the table. Shigaraki hunches over in pain and Kurogiri excuses himself to gather some bandages. “Thanks for not letting him kill me, I thought I was done for,” you shyly cross your arms at your wrists fidgeting with the still-wet paint on your nails that Toga messed up. It dawns on you that you’re now alone with the leader. He doesn’t reply and walks over to the barstool taking a seat at the bar. You don’t want to pry but you feel like you should at least assess his wounds, especially since Kurogiri is taking forever. “Can I see how bad they are?” you speak out to him once more, not actually expecting a verbal response from him this time.

“Do you remember how to use your quirk?” he didn’t look at you when he said this but for once he didn’t sound completely annoyed with you and his voice came out soft. He must really be in pain.

“No,” you give him a short reply, taking a seat on the barstool to the left of him.

“Then no,” his voice still soft but not as gentle as a moment ago. He takes a sip from his glass that somehow survived the bar fight. He was staring at nothing in particular but was still facing away from you. You watched him shakily take another sip of his dark liquor, missing his mouth a bit causing it to drip down his chin. This is the first time you’ve actually been able to look at him without any distractions. His nose was sharp and his skin was pale and dry. He had a small scar across his lips that paired with a beauty mark to the right of his bottom lip. On top of that, he also had a really defined jawline. His light, gray-blue hair fell perfectly to the sides of his face, only covering parts of his eyes, and framing his face in a way that complimented his cheekbones. In this bar lighting, he almost looked handsome which totally puzzled you. He is not what you expected from the leader of a villainous organization.

“It’s worth a try, what if I remember at the sight of blood?” you giggle a bit not even meaning to, you’re just so nervous. This elicited a teeny-tiny smile from the big, bad leader. If you weren’t already staring at him you would’ve missed it so you’re so glad you were. Where his smile ends, he had a little dimple at the corner of his mouth. You’re not sure if many people get to see this side of him so it almost felt precious.

“Fine, but it better not sting,” he downs the rest of his liquor and swings his bar stool to finally face you. You’re now sitting face to face which brings heat to your cheeks and you can’t help but avoid eye contact. When he shifts closer your mouth twitches and you’re trying so hard not to appear as nervous as you are. He brings his body even closer to you and pulls down his long sleeve black shirt at the collar, just enough for you to see the front of his stab wound. It was as bad as it looked. You squirm at the thought of the sword stabbing him.

“Your quirk is honestly really cool,” you comment slightly above a whisper. Then you inspect his chest by bringing your hands to his clavicle and pull at the skin lightly to see how deep it is. He shivers at the touch of your cold hands causing you to pull back a little to be more gentle.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you still had your memory,” his whiny tone returns, and his voice cracks a little, revealing his vulnerable side.

“Hold still,” you ignore his previous comment, and instead you really focus on trying to use your quirk. It can’t be that hard, can it? Muscle memory and quirks have to go hand in hand, right? Shigaraki stares at you as you close your eyes and enter a meditative state, curiosity plastered across his face. Your bare hands are still on his shoulder and he isn’t sure how to feel about it. He doesn’t really receive much physical touch and since he doesn’t have the best control over his quirk he usually avoids situations like this. While you’re channeling your quirk he takes this moment to fully take you in. His eyes scan over your entire body, head to toe. You’re still in Toga’s cute yellow shorts with little strawberries on them. To Shigaraki it looks like you don’t have pants on, just an oversized black T-shirt which is probably Dabi's or Twice’s, he thinks. This turns his face red so he quickly retracts his eyes from your thighs. He scans your knees which are covered in bruises. This is probably from your battle with Dabi and his Nomu when he had them kidnap you. Maybe he should feel bad about this, he thinks. He lets himself linger on the thought of you fighting Dabi, angrily with haste spilling from your teeth. For some reason, he can’t imagine you in fight mode, using everything you’ve got on the battlefield especially since you just ran from the fight with Stain. Still thinking about your fight with Dabi, he finds it odd that you guys seem so friendly with each other now. He doesn’t like it but he won’t admit it. His eyes finally reach your face again and it's all scrunched up like you’re really trying to remember how to use your quirk. He finds this humorous and for the second time that night he smiles, it’s small, almost nonexistent but it's still there. Your eyes open and instead of the eyes he’s stared into before, Shigaraki is met with two glowing white irises. Your hair starts floating as if you were suspended under water. Shigaraki freezes as you get closer to his face. You shut your eyes and as if it were instinctual you go to place your forehead on his. He pulls back a little at first but thinks he probably shouldn’t move so he allows you to fall into him. He scrunches up his face thinking it would feel like a headbutt. Instead, he is met with the sweet smell of your lips only a few inches away from his own. You smell like strawberries, he thinks. It almost felt like you paused time making him feel ethereal and calm for the first time in his life. It takes a moment but you heal both of his shoulder wounds. “Woah, I did it,” you practically squeak in excitement.

He rolls his shoulders back fully testing out the range of motion. His pain was gone, you even managed to heal some of the cuts on his neck from frantically itching earlier that night. “So you did,” he acknowledged your excitement but didn’t go as far as saying thank you. He felt weird after being in such close proximity. “Okay, we’ve had our fun,” Shigaraki stands up and positions his shirt back to normal, “I’m going to bed.” without even as much as a glance at you he starts heading to the back of the bar.

“Wait!” you shout, trying to stop him. Part of you craves attention that he refuses to give you. You’re not sure why but you chase him. He’s already almost in front of the curtain so when you catch up to him you reach out to grab his wrist. Bad Idea. Shigaraki doesn’t like the sudden physical touch and swings around to grab your neck, once he has you he’s not being careful about laying all five fingers down. You gulp when you remember this is the hand he used to dust Stain’s sword. He still doesn’t trust you. Of course he doesn’t, why would he? Your efforts to heal him were pointless. You’re right back where you started this “relationship” with him, or whatever you want to call it. You’re suspended in the air and losing oxygen quickly. You try to loosen his grip by clawing at his forearms. The way he’s staring at you is different than before though, almost like he doesn’t want to be aggressive with you right now even though he is. That’s gotta mean something, right?

“Shi-Shigaraki, please,” you plead as much as you can with the little amount of oxygen in your lungs. There’s sweat rolling off his forehead, you think that he is really contemplating ending your life right here.

“Hey, let her go,” a familiar voice was coming from the front door. Dabi. Thank god, he’s back. You’re so thankful you could cry. “Right now or I will light your ass up,” he threatens again when Shigaraki doesn’t immediately let you go. The league's leader tilts his head at you like a curious dog, his angry eyes replaced with wonder when he sees that your eyes are glowing again. Why are your eyes glowing again? When he looks down at his hand around your throat he sees all five of his fingers making contact. He didn’t even mean to almost dust you, he really didn’t. He freezes, this time he listens to Dabi and releases you from his death grip. You drop to your knees and cough until your lungs allow air back into them. While you’re desperately sucking in air, your eyes return to their normal color. Shigaraki doesn’t help you up, instead he turns on his heel and leaves the room through the curtain.

“She shares a room with Toga from now on.” The leader doesn’t say another word in his exit. Neither you or Dabi acknowledge him either.

“What the hell was that about?” Dabi walks over to you and kneels down to meet your gaze.

“He doesn’t like being touched I guess,” you retort and your eyes meet his. His eyes look red and there's dried blood below his scars. You wonder what happened to him while he was gone.

“No, not that... he’s always like that, I mean your eyes,” he looks at you in wonder, “they were glowing,” Dabi must’ve not known who you were as a hero because your quirk came as a surprise to him.

“Oh, I activated my quirk to heal Shigaraki,” you replied nonchalantly as you dusted your knees off to stand up.

“Does that mean you got your memory back?” he asks lowly while running his hands through his hair. He’s still kneeled on the ground so you’re now standing above him. He looks kind of small at this angle, not like his usual dangerous self.

“No,” you sigh, it was honestly getting quite annoying not being able to remember anything. “My quirk came rushing back when I needed it so I’m hoping my memory does the same soon,” your voice trails off when you watch Dabi rise to his full height. He has a bag in his right hand that’s hidden partially behind his back. “What’s that?” you ask while leaning over to get a better look. He pulls the bag further behind him and hands it to you.

“Ah, ah, ah, it’s a surprise,” he cockily holds his arm out in front of you signaling you to back up so you do. You hold your arms behind your back swaying your feet excited to see what he brought back for you. “Toga didn’t have any more clothes to spare,” he’s taking too long to get to the point and you’re not a super patient person. “I’m not the best at picking out clothing for others but,” he finally hands you the bag and you excitedly shuffle through it trying not to be extremely loud. It was a big black trash bag filled with clothes. Some women's clothes and some were men’s clothing. You’re realizing now he must’ve stolen these, which honestly you didn’t really want to know if they were clean or not. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

“Thank you,” you smile sweetly at him and in return he looks away rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Yeah, whatever, don’t mention it,” he takes the bag back from you and throws it over his shoulder. He turns to walk out of the bar and so you follow suit. “I guess no more handcuffed sleepover’s for us princess.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle and continue walking down the hall to Toga’s room. Something about sleeping doesn’t sound too bad after the day you’ve had. You had such a weird encounter with Shigaraki. He could’ve killed you if you didn’t activate your quirk in time. Thinking back to his hands around your neck, you remember the tingling feeling his fingertips left behind. His quirk was working against yours, like a dominance battle to see whose quirk would give in first. You couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of his hands around your neck. Little did you know, Shigaraki couldn’t stop thinking about it either. That was the first time he was nullified by the person he was dusting. There obviously was the time where pro hero Eraser Head nullified his quirk but it was when he was attempting to dust someone else. This was different. He laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. When he couldn’t think about anything else, he pulled out one of hands from behind his head and reached for the ceiling holding it out in front of him. He examined his hand and noticed something by his wrist so he pulled his arm closer to his face, it was a smear of pink nail polish. The same pink nail polish Toga put on your nails earlier in the night. Shigaraki’s face went red but he didn’t try to scrape off the paint. Instead he held his hands over his stomach and drifted to sleep, thinking about your forehead pressed to his.

87 notes · View notes

elvenxwarrior · 11 months

Text

My Hero Academia Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Please check out my guidelines!

You can also find these posted on my AO3!

ALL CHARACTERS ARE SET 6-10 YEARS IN THE FUTURE OR IN A COLLEGE AU. MINORS DNI! 18+ FOR SOME FICS.

Izuku Midoriya

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Not A Threat | Angst to Fluff

Crazy In Love | Smut

Sunflowers | Hanahaki

Home Is Where The Heart Is | Fluff

Bakugo Katsuki

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

The Sound Of Silence [Part 1] | Fluff

The Sound Of Silence [Part 2] | Fluff

My Hero | Angst to Fluff

Boyfriend Material | Spicy

Shoto Todoroki

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

A Piece of Heaven | Fluff

Eijiro Kirishima

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Game On | Fluff

Tamaki Amajiki

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Panic | Angst to Fluff

Drunk | Fluff

Secret | Smut

Tomura Shigaraki

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

New Game | Fluff

White Roses | Hanahaki

Shota Aizawa

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Intimacy | Fluffy Smut

The Club | Fluff to Spice

Hizashi Yamada

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Present & Future | Platonic / Family

Hot 'n Heavy | Smut

24 notes · View notes

multixsposts · 6 months

Text

꧁𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝘄𝗼 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗼꧂

𝗍һіs іs ᥲ 𝖿ᥱmᥲᥣᥱrᥱᥲძᥱr᥊ᑲᥲkᥙg᥆ᥙ 𝖿ᥲᥒ𝖿іᥴ.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝑡𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒ℎ𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒．

“𝒕𝒔𝒌..𝒊 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒔“ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟． 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 the 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑝𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 𝑗𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 ，𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑙 𝑙𝑜𝑏𝑏𝑦

“𝐡𝐞𝐲! 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’ 𝐲𝐚!“ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑗𝑜𝑔𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢． 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑛��𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑧𝑖 𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑝

𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑝𝑠 𝑖𝑛．𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢．ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑟𝑢𝑑𝑒．

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑚

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑦𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚． 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠，𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑥𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠，𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑚． 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑖𝑠

“𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐧𝐨.“ ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑎𝑛𝑑 irritated．𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑤𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑝 𝑖𝑛 y𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔．

“𝐭𝐬𝐤.“ ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑝 𝑠𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠．

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑑．

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜．

𝐺𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑍𝑒𝑟𝑜．

𝑊𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢．

𝐴 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑝 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝐴 𝑁 𝑌 𝑝𝑟𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠．𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙．

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧’ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦?.“ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑒．

“𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒘𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐.“ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑡，𝑖𝑡 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡．

“𝐇𝐀𝐇?!“ ℎ𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑𝑙𝑦，ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠．

“𝒊 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅. 𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒘-“ ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑜𝑓𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑓𝑓．

“𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐲𝐚’. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲?.“ ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎 𝑠𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑘 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠．“𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲?.“ 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛．𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠？！ 𝑖 𝑏𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑦𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎．𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒？ 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑠？ 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑚？𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑒．𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠？． 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑖𝑐．

“𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑨𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.“ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 “𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭“ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒．

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑏𝑠 𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡，𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑝𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑝， ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑘 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟．

“𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡?“ ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑠 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢， 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑝 𝑡𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑒．

“𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒉.“ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒．𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡，𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛𝑡 𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑡．

𝐻𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑐ℎ𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢p 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑟𝑢𝑠ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑢𝑝 𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑎𝑟．𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑒𝑑．

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨, 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤.“ ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑡 ，𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛．𝐻𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑘，𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒．

𝐻𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑘．

𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜？． 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒！

𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑠．

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lagataprrr · 1 year

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Also I’m going to try and finish all of my drafts, I have like six of them done halfway lol

Home Run - Eren Jeager x female plus!size reader

Players online: 1 - Tomura Shigaraki x female plus!size reader (smuttish)

Reassuring - Eddie Munson x plus!size reader (smut)

Eclipse (Multi chapter series) - Katsuki Bakugo x female Reader

Minty kisses - Izuku Midoriya x female plus!size reader

Die for you - Eren Jeager x Female plus!size reader (smut)

8 notes · View notes

jujutsukgojo · 2 years

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Prayed For the Lambs

Summary: In Deika city, you met a little boy and just wanted to do a nice thing. If only you knew who the hell you gave shelter to. So busy praying for the lambs, you forgot to pray for yourself.

TW: deaths, destruction, spoilers from my villain academia, angst, isolation, cult, religious under tones, animal abuse

If there is anything else let me know!

A/N: i posted this on ao3 last year and i'm still debating on a part 2?

You want to say that you truly do not know where it went wrong as the buildings collapse around you. Mr. Rikiya, whom you have grown up with your entire life, is doing something just as dark and sinister as Tomura. Mr. Rikiya grows in size and reaches for your childhood friend. The disaster that is spreading all around registers completely. It just doesn’t stop you from hoping for Tomura’s safety. Suddenly, Mr. Rikiya throws Tomura and looks at his finger, wincing. He had decayed the tips of the giant’s finger. That does not compare to the damage Tomura is taking. His hands are crushed and he is bleeding in several areas.

If only you had known to pray before you met him. To pray for yourself and Deika before that little boy with light bluish grey hair and suspicious red eyes touched the ground and ruined your home. You shouldn’t have even given him shelter. Your ass should have ran.

“What’cha doing out here, little one?”

“H-hey! I’m just as big as you if not bigger.” He jots out his bottom lip and tries to stand tall but can’t. He plops down on the dirt ground. It is only you two that are in the woods. No one else can hear his fall.

You giggle and sit next to him. His hands coated in blood that you think is his, the dryness around his face highlight the dark rim around his eyes. For some reason, you aren’t scared of this little kid. He is the one that must be so scared.

“Come with me, little lamb.” You reach for his hand. “No!” He quickly yanks it back before it can be touched. Is he like Mr. Kai? Not able to touch people because of germs?

“Okay, how about this?” You loop your arm through his instead. “I guess that’s okay.” You take him to the church and before you can call for Mr. Rikiya to tell him of this lost child, you see a farmer beat one of his innocent sheep. He often times sells his goods on the street or donate them to Mr. Rikiya and his church. This man has never sat right with you. You gasp and freeze at the sight. It isn’t the first time you have seen this man commit such a violent act. Each time a sheep is beaten, you send a prayer for them to be saved. Now, you gather the courage to stand up for them.

“Stop it!” You shout. You know the circle of life. You know the sheep will be eaten and such. That doesn’t mean he can beat them before their time! Why torture them? What is the point? His brown hair is stick straight and cut horribly. He probably did it himself.

“Don’t tell me to stop girl.” He aims to swing that cane at you. That stick to guide him and his animals and here he goes, wanting to hit you. Its chipped and splintered, but sturdy all the same. It’s gonna hurt.

Just as you close your eyes, a strangled groan and a weird noise is the only thing coming. You open your eyes to see nothing but ash. The boy has a weird look in his eyes, a look you foolishly translated to fear and shock. His eyes are wide and his mouth is open.

Yes, you asked him how he did that and he told you he had no memory of what happened before he entered the woods. So, the origin of such a curse, or gift as you said, is unknown. He has no reason to lie to you since he had your full confidentiality. The heroic boy starts to smile at you. “Alright, what’s your name then? D’you remember that?”

He shakes his head no.

So, you name him Tomura Shigaraki. The last name is a name you found in a story and Tomura is because it sounds pretty.

You named the boy after mourning.

Little did you know that that boy not only had the power to bring it, but craved it.

You never told anyone what happened to that mean man. The man with an occupation that didn’t fit with a city like Deika anyway.

“Out! Everybody out now!” Ms. Y screams. Her screaming voice is foreign to you, an orphan who visited the church on a daily and who slept in the basement with Tomura. It is where you hid him after the death of the shepherd. Afraid of what people would do if they found out and without any other place to put him, you hid him in the basement of the church. It was somewhere they didn’t go into since you volunteered to clean it when you had taken Tomura in. At the time in your five-yar-old mind, it was the perfect cover.

You planned for the two of you to rest there. Not for it to be a holding cell or a prison. Tomura wouldn’t come out of there. He stayed, harboring the darkness that the basement brought. No matter how many candles and nightlights you brought, it always seemed like it was never enough.

That was the problem, maybe. Isolation of a boy with a power to turn things into dust and you being his only companion. He tried once to venture out and befriend someone, what was that kid’s name, Bakugou? A kid your age that had an attitude and a half and a mouth of a sailor but damn. You never saw him again after the third day of them hanging out.

Bakugou called Tomura a freak, crusty, ugly, no-name. After repeated scolds and hits from you, he still didn’t stop. He would push Tomura playfully, as he said. However, you got the feeling that it wasn’t playful at all. Tomura’s eyes never looked right whenever he saw Bakugou. And he would scratch his neck with a fierceness.

That third day, you saw some lambs being slaughtered when you wondered too far. So, you prayed for them.

That day, when he was ten years old, was the last time Bakugou was seen. His mother is still looking for him.

Deep down you knew how Tomura was.

In denial is what you were. Refusing to see the truth and instead of praying for the lambs, you should have prayed for the boy and yourself; for your home, friends, and Bakugou despite your dislike for him.

Deika City is being ruined by the Mr. Rikiya and Tomura. Is it possible for a human to get that big? To look like that? Possible for a man whose hand lingered on your back longer than you wanted, for his hand to gently caress your face since you were a child till now, and to have kind eyes yet become that big and battle a boy your cared for? A boy you yourself named.

“What do you call it?” Curiously, he looked at you. “Call what?”

“Your hand thingy.”

“I have no idea what it is, I told you. Please don’t tell!” He gathers tears in his eyes. “I won’t Tomura! Don’t worry!” How could anyone tell of something like that? Surely they would persecute him. With soothing strokes on his back you calm him.

What had happened to the farmer hasn’t really sunk in yet. It’s been two years.

“Hey! I have an idea. Why don’t we go outside and play?”

“No.”

“Why not?” He pulls out a game board, one you excel in, and says, “I haven’t beaten you yet.”

“When will we ever play outside then? When will you?”

“Soon, I guess.” After a minute or two of silence, you came up with a name for it. “I got it. We’ll call it decay. Get it?”

“Isn’t more like disintegrating?”

“Those are cinnamons.” You inform him. He furrows his brows. “Synonyms?”

“Whatever. I can’t pronounce either of those words so I'm calling it decay.” He nods and says that’s okay. You end up winning again.

Mr. Rikiya is throwing some kind of purple force at him.

Don’t hurt him!

Tomura’s voice sounded strained and he said his head was splitting. Why? What’s wrong with him? You want to go over there and knock some sense in him. To hold him and piece his head back together if it splits completely.

Tons of people, random people with black clothing and masks scurry the streets. The men look familiar yet cannot be placed because of their masks. They feel familiar yet cold. Not anymore though.

Blue erupts into a building you used to know so well and gathers on your clothes. A gas station that you went into for Tomura’s chips. They were the only ones that sold those things. Ms. Y smacks the blue flames away from your pant leg somehow and grabs your neck and drags you away. The offender, a man with severe scars is so easy to recognize.

“Is he okay?”

“No, Y/n, he isn’t. Help me get him on here.” To pay for your stay, you often help with the hospital as a helper for Ms. Y and as a candy striper. It was a slow night until a boy comes in with burns all over his body. Slowly he opens his eyes to see you. They are the most beautiful things you ever saw. Almost like gems, really. Not sure what to do and waiting for one of the slow doctors to arrive, you pet his head and tell him he’ll be just fine.

“Don’t touch him! He’s in pain!” You doubt that for some reason. He just doesn’t look like he is. He looks like he has determination burning within. It is something that won’t recognize pain or allow him to cry.

“He’s far away from home, that’s for sure.” One of the doctors say as he finally arrives with the excuse of traffic being congested.

Quickly, you pet his head gently and whisper reassuring words again before anyone can see. He blinks at you and gives you a slight smile.

The man with gems for eyes stares at you as you’re being dragged away, as the rocks underneath your feet are shaking like an earthquake. “Run away!” You shout at him. He smirks at you and continues to join the destruction. It’s all too shocking, too horrifying to see the people you grew up with be destroyed or join it. You notice that his flames are avoiding you.

How is he able to do that? Emit blue flames? Is that how he got burned? Tomura may bring death at his hands, but the jewel eyed man certainly brings pain. How they are able to do this you may never know to be honest and you don’t want to.

“That poor family…” At five years old with a curious mind, you stand on your tip toes to see what the newspaper that Ms. Y’s holding. A list of names are on the newspaper. The Shimura family. All they can find are bits of remains but no mention of the actual cause. They ruled out an earthquake since it only affected one house. They aren’t sure if it is bad contracting because of how the family and family’s dog was found but they are saying it is a possibility. In the paper is a boy they list as presumed dead. Tenko Shimura. You study the picture and notice the facial similarities of Tenko and Tomura. But Tomura has red eyes and light blue hair while Tenko seemed to have dark hair and eyes. As far as you could tell by newspaper print at least.

It can’t be the same boy. If so, you at least found his real name.

He denied it and said he hadn’t a clue of his life before.

“We have to get out of Deika! That boy is the devil incarnate!” How can she say that?

“And Rikiya?” You challenge. Mr. Rikiya has always held a large amount of power in this city. Too much of it actually. If Tomura is the devil, then what is he? Her wrinkly face scowls. “Show him some respect! He is fighting for us to get out of Deika. Don’t be ungrateful!” You aren’t so sure he is. What he’s saying doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t be along the lines of “don’t hurt these people”? Instead, it is more along the lines of degrading Tomura because he thinks he’s weak. Mr. Rikiya doesn’t acknowledge the damage around him as well as the people; only the supposed lack of strength.

She must have known of how he could get larger in size and throw his “burdens”. Have you been lied to all your life? Can everyone but you do such things? You can’t. In Deika, you went all over the place. The schools you snuck into, trains, libraries, and the church, and much more. You can't recall ever seeing things like this other than Tomura. You never actually participated in the church but it was familiar to you. All of this was. Deika, no matter what, was home for you. Only once had you left this city.

“How can they do that?” She stops to look at you with no expression on her face. “They are blessings or curses. But not both.” She didn’t outright answer your question.

“Tomura I’m serious.” You hand him gloves that the store you visited recently started selling. “Why should I?” He plops down with his legs crossed and a pout on his lips.

“It’s so you don’t decay anything.” Your reasoning is valid. For precaution and to lure him out, he needs to be careful.

“You mean so I won’t decay you . Because it isn’t a gift, is it?” Partially it. But you would never say that out loud. It would be wrong to hurt his feelings like that. “C’mon put them on.” You cautiously slide it on his hand.

“Admit it, Y/n. You’re scared of me.” He grabs your foot and thankfully the gloves work. Yet you are a little perturbed that he tested them on you. Couldn't he have used a candle or something?

“I’m not scared of you. I’m just a little worried for your fingers. It’s in your fingers and they slip y’know? I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, right?” You want him to say that he never will. He crawls over to your sitting position. The candles burn dimly in the basement where you stored him and tried to get him out of. The two of you are almost out of your teens now. He can’t stay down here forever. It’s getting harder to find clothes for him without him being in the stores with you. He has grown so much over the years.

Tomura kisses your neck repeatedly. It’s shocking and feels weird in a good way. The friendship that you have has lasted for almost fifteen years, ever since you were five, you feel is starting to change. Him kissing your neck like a lover does, so intimately, is strange. Gently the two of you fall back on the floor that’s covered in blankets and pillows you provided over the years.

“What are you doing?” His eyes gleam just a tad. “Asking you to not be scared of me.” He kisses your neck again. “You didn’t ask for my consent, Tomura.” He hums and nods.

“Don’t be scared of me.” He whispers earnestly. As time passes and the solitude starts to show more and more on Tomura, fear is starting to set in you no matter how much you deny it. He is starting to change and it is worrying you.

You and Ms. Y climb up the fire escape on one building. The streets are filled with civilians, crazed and scared. She takes you on top of the roof and runs. Surprisingly, she is a spry older woman. Scared of the jump, you grab her hand and go from one roof to the other. The previous building with a red shingled roof is now falling and...decaying. Tomura found a way to use his gift, his own special quirk, with crushed hands. To make his gift put on a larger scale.

How could he do this? What happened during that time apart? One year. He was gone for a year. You had promised to come back in a few months. With a smile, he told you that he had made friends. Of course, you were happy.

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He crosses his arms. You, just today, got the opportunity of a lifetime. “Tomu, if I do this I can be set for the future.”

“What about me?” He looks so sad. “I’ll take you with me!” He can’t stay cooped up here. It can’t be healthy. You go to and fro and always come back every day. However, you are still his only source of companionship. “Okay.”

It was fine until the next day he wasn’t there. Knowing how he was, you couldn’t help be shocked at his absence. Of course, you searched for him. Afterwards on the same night, you stayed over to see if he’d come back and he did. He said he just walked around to adjust to the outside and even stated some of his opinions on people. They annoyed him.

When it was time to leave, he didn’t want to go. “I’ll wait for you. Don’t worry about me.” Was his parting words.

“How are you going to eat?”

“I like the outside now.” He had a bright smile and you couldn’t be happier for his progress.

“I made a few friends that share the same interests as I do.” He had told you that people annoyed him, yet he has friends? Of course, you didn’t question it. How could you? He went out and made friends! Seeing him grow made you happy and slightly eased your worries.

You should have known that when he went outside, he was meeting the worst.

A girl with blonde buns on her head jumps out at you. Confusion turned into recognition as she tried to grab your wrist. Ms. Y. jumps in and slaps the girl away. The urge to just close your eyes and ignore the whole thing is becoming stronger with each passing moment. But each time the ground rumbles underneath you, each time the buildings start to crack, your eyes snap open.

Ms. Y. continues to drag you along. The insane but care-free laughter echoes throughout your home. Mr. Rikiya body is sent flying in the air. You are increasingly becoming terrified of the destruction caused by the boy you took in and told no one about other than Bakugou, who is long gone.

This is punishment. Your denial is now biting you and everyone else in the ass.

Ms. Y. pushes you out of the way once the cracks in the ground catch up with the two of you. You stare as her body decays in front of you with the last word of, “Run!”

So, you do just that. It hurts, all of it. How could you be so blind? When you came back from just being away for a couple of months, you discovered that he was long gone. Only by games and journal logs, expired food, and dust that was not caused by his hands did you know. He had left for good while you were absent.

The night before you both left was sweet and full of Tomura’s venting. You hugged him, something that you would do every so often, but that last time he was more confident about it. On the blankets and pillows laid out for him for all those years, the two of you sat and talked. He ranted about the church and the world. He was angry, furious, at those who believed in Mr. Rikiya and those who disagreed with his opinions of the world, his hatred. He despises it.

You should have known then. His contradicting statement of hating the people but finding friends should have rung alarms. His last words to you were reassuring and encouraging on your departure despite the rest of the conversations that night. So many red flags that you blatantly ignored.

Somehow, you outrun his gift. People start fighting in front of you, killing each other mercilessly. None of this makes sense. It was once a boring town that had nothing in it. Totally plain to look at and be in but it was home. Now, Deika is crumbling from the inside to the outside. The exit as far as you can tell of this small town is crashing. Those who run to it crumble as well.

There truly is nowhere to go.

So, as a last decision you walk to the church where you would visit and had stored the boy with death for hands. The building has fallen except for the few windows and the graves. The foundation still stands with a few pews but that is it. What was once a spectacular building is now rubble. You walk down the aisle towards the podium. Mr. Rikiya, now that you think about it, did hold a weird church. The loyalty to him was fierce. It never sat right with you but at least it was warm and dry. It was another thing you ignored. This wasn’t really much of a church at all.

Tomura limps from behind a broken wall next to the podium. He is bloody and shirtless with long white hair. Last you saw him it was a light blue and you had cut it. How had this much changed?

“Is this it, Tomu?” You ask. How could the five-year-old boy turn out this way? Is he going to end you too?

“Y/n...” He is shining, completely glowing in the sunlight. “Do you know why I did this?”

“No.” He chuckles at your partial lie. “It was all a lie. A cult. Deika under the rule of a fraud and I was placed under him. Living underneath his hive.”

“What do you want me to say? I didn’t know. I just wanted you to stay warm and dry and safe.” Did you really not know? Their praise towards the man were exaggerated and frequent. Nothing about it seemed dramatic in your eyes since you ignored most of it. Especially when all you wanted to do is survive and take care of Tomura. Perhaps he did know more than you. It took all of this to notice what was odd.

You hold back the tears that are filled with guilt and regret. This wasn’t supposed to happen. All you wanted was to do a good thing. He limps a little closer. “Of course you didn’t. You are the most oblivious person I know. How can you go throughout your life not realizing things? Piecing shit together?” You agree with him. Once upon a time, you did consider yourself a curious mind; evidently you lied to yourself.

He decays a candle. “Imagine that, Y/n. Imagine that the world that I hated got even bigger.”

Dear mercy.

“Hate the world? How? You haven’t seen or experienced anything,”

Wiping your face, you continue. “What now? You already ruined Deika. So now you’re gonna ruin the world?”

He smiles. “I know enough to know that this is all trash; trust me. Why shouldn’t I lead it?”

“What the hell happened to you?” You whisper. It is almost as if you are afraid of the question.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing but growth. Isn’t that great?” The sun somehow shines brighter. Your leg which the blue flames touched your pants is warm and tender. You know it’s painful but it doesn’t register. Not now. This is the end of your life. His answer to your question literally answers the rest of them. Tomura Shigaraki has always been like this. The farmer and Bakugou were testaments that he got enjoyment out of killing. That look on his face at the death of the farmer wasn’t fear or shock at all. It was euphoria. At five years old, you didn’t want to believe in such evil. Seeing a man beat sheep was already enough for you.

Even now you don't want to believe in this kind of evil. Closing your eyes, you take deep breaths through your wobbling lips. Tomura’s limping is getting closer. The noise is heavy and slow.

You should have prayed for the people, yourself, and the farmer. You should have prayed for Deika. You should have prayed for Bakugou when he and Tomura went on an adventure that day and said “no girls allowed.”. Maybe then he would have been spared.

“Y/n?” He calls. His breath is on your face. Tomura sounds concerned and soft. With his actions however, who knows if that is genuine?

Why did you pray for the lambs when there were people in pain?

You’re warm.

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multifandomlvr · 2 years

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Masterlist

**Started**: 07/23/2022

Last Updated: 04/07/2024

Total Works: 15 (Will count sooner or later...)

My Hero Academia

Midoriya Izuku

-Should've Listened (Oneshot)

Unexpected Circumstances (Oneshot)

-Love Of Tomorrow (ON HOLD)

-Part 1

-Part 2

-Part 3

-Part 4

Bakugo Katsuki

-Acts Of Service (Oneshot)

Eijirou Kirishima

-Star Gazing (Oneshot)

-Twisted Circumstances

-Chapter 1

-Chapter 2

-Chapter 3

-Chapter 4

-Chapter 5

-Chapter 6

Dabi (Touya Todoroki)

-I'm Not Leaving (Oneshot)

Hitoshi Shinso

-Happy Birthday (Oneshot)

Tomura Shigaraki

-Game Day (Oneshot)

Denki Kaminari

-Day Dreaming (Oneshot)

Kai Chisaki

-Clean Cuddles (Oneshot)

Keigo Takami

-Dinner Date (Oneshot)

Shota Aizawa

-Death Wish Or Coffee (Oneshot)

Shoto Todoroki

-Cold Soba (Oneshot)

Taishiro Toyomitsu

-Favorite Customer (Oneshot)

Tamaki Amajiki

-Socially Drained (Oneshot)

Toshinori Yagi

-Mario Kart (Oneshot)

Midoriya & Katsuki

Hands Off

-Chapter 1

-Chapter 2

-Chapter 3

-Chapter 4

-Chapter 5

-Chapter 6

-Chapter 7

-Chapter 8

Blood Plus

Shriveled Roses

-Chapter 1

-Chapter 2

-Chapter 3

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pinkykats-place · 2 years

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Shigaraki Tomura x Reader

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the works linked below are mine.

Some contain mature content, please read tags.

Most are female but, some gn! readers.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Soft Boi Hours by Mavzoon

Summary: A fic in which you give Shigaraki some well-earned love and affection and teach him about self-care. The reader is a soft dom when it comes to their dynamics. She has a quirk that makes her immune to other quirks (kinda like Aizawa, but not as useful). The angst is not that angsty in this one. It's just Shiggy not liking himself and you praising the hell out of him.

{One Shot}

Love At First Sight by BelladonnaBear

Summary: The title speaks for itself. Tomura falls in love with you at first sight and wants you.

{One Shot}

Do The Dead Still Dream at Night? by vanagas

Summary: You were never too fond of heroes. But you weren't exactly planning on working alongside one of the most notorious villains in Japan, either.

What happens when Tomura Shigaraki finds a person to share his visions with, though? Someone who'll sit alongside him to watch the horizon he'd always dreamed of?

Something nobody expected to happen, that's what.

Incomplete | 36/? Chapters

Last updated 2020

Out in the cold by Chony

Summary: A civillian escapes death through Tomura Shigarakis hands, to his great surprise. When he hunts down the girl with the life-saving quirk, the incident turns into a growing obsession that begins to seed doubts in the villains mind. Confronted with confusing thoughts and feelings he struggles with an affection he is not ready to admit even to himself.

Complete | 14 Chapters

Super Effective by RexWrites

Summary: A lot of things piss Shigaraki off. One thing that does the exact opposite is Twitch Streamer BL00DII_MARII.

When Giran makes a visit with a new potential member for the League, Shigaraki is stunned when the streamer that has went against all odds and stolen his affection stands before them in the bar.

Incomplete | 22/? Chapters

Last updated 2021

Kryptonite Divine by hiddenflowers

Summary: Sensei’s voice echoed in his head. “Give her all that she desires, and make her yours.”

[Tomura assumes a quirkless identity to get closer to you, whose power nullifies others' quirks within a certain range of you.]

Incomplete | 13/? Chapters

Criminals are not Villains by Euleogy

Summary: “Good girl.” You froze, nearly spitting the shake back out. Your eyes snapped open, fear pumping through your veins again as you were met with red eyes, and a face covered in a disembodied hand. You started, jerking backward and then sliding away, using your right arm for stability while cradling your left in your lap. The injury itself was basically gone, but the scar tissue, while calmed down a bit, was tender. You didn’t even want to try lifting it.

“I-I I won’t tell anyone. I won’t breathe a word of this, I swear.”

-OR-

Just another Reader-Has-A-Healing-Quirk-And-The-LoV-Needs-A-Healing-Class fic.

Incomplete | 11/? Chapters

Last updated 2021

A Good Girl’s Fantasy by aclowder

Summary: dom Shigaraki x sub Reader x sub Hawks x dom Dabi

Complete | 2 Chapters

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770395/chapters/67980700#workskin

Warm Healer by sanchoyo

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki finds himself bleeding out in an alley after a particularly nasty fight- and you find him there, too.

Can you really fall for someone who's so unlike you, someone so dangerous, while also trying to play it safe and lead a normal life? Can he think of this as more than a side quest and a tool to benefit himself?

A romance with the nation's most notorious leader of a crime organization? It's more likely than you think.

Complete | 20 Chapters

#archive of our own #ao3 fic rec #ao3 tomura x reader #fanfic recommendation #bnha recommendations #reader insert recommendations #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader recommendations #ao3 shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x female reader #reader has healing quirk #villain reader #kidnapped reader #bnha x reader #reader insert recommendation

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thevrslutz · 1 year

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Mha Ao3 recs anyone?🥹🥹

you don’t have to read the list if you have one in mind JUST RECOMMEND SOME FICS (repost with ff)

-Domestic fluff

-kid fics

-found family

-Angst

-past trauma (it’s comforting, leave me be)

-ptsd

-recovery (SH, ED and so on)

-family drama

-Zombie apocalypse AUs

-Adult class 1-a

-xReaders

-reader inserts

-Any LEGAL ships really (just not too odd like Nighteye x Hawks or sum shit pls)

-only exception to the one above ‼️NO HAWKS X ENDEAVOR‼️

-idk what y’all say about it, I’ll read a good bkdk fic anyday bro

-not really a fan of tddk but if it’s a top tier fic, I’ll read it

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tiredjuniper · 2 years

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YOOOO 50 FOLLOWERS

thanks y’all💕💕🥰

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sophsiaaa · 8 months

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going home

CHAPTER 3

bnha masterlist

pairing: tomura shigaraki x fem reader

summary: Stranded in another world that eerily follows the plot of your favourite manga, you find yourself sucked into the story, trapped on the side of the villains. You're just a girl who knows too much and wants to go home, but with Tomura Shigaraki watching you, escape won't be easy.

notes: I know this is a kinda cringey premise but I've had this idea trapped in my head for months and I love shigaraki so here.

chapter contains: no warnings

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Shigaraki

Tomura had never seen someone so hungry.

The woman was hunched over a bowl of beef stew Kurogiri had reheated from the bar’s fridge. She’d only just agreed to join the League of Villains yesterday, but already she was taking advantage of her new position. She ate like she hadn’t eaten in months, shoveling potatoes, carrots, chunks of seared meat into her mouth. Deep brown sauce dripped from the spoon when she was done and she licked it clean, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

“Gross.”

She looked up, cheeks flushing. “What?”

“Nothing,” Tomura said, slipping back into English.

He looked her over, from her sickly face to her tatty clothes. She still looked like hell. After she’d agreed to join his league last night, Giran had called; his two Stain-loving recruits (Dabi and Toga) wanted an answer on whether they’d been accepted into the League of Villains. Tomura had needed to go deal with them and the broker, and so the strange woman he’d inadvertently saved had left with the instruction of coming back to the karaoke bar the next afternoon to receive her first mission in the League of Villains. Tomura knew she was a foreigner who clearly didn’t know her way around, but if she wasn’t able to find the place, then she wouldn’t have what it took to be in his league anyway.

And she was here, five minutes early and sweating, eating all the beef stew. He assumed that she must have gone back to her alley to wait out the day. By the circles under her eyes, it was clear she hadn’t tried sleeping there again.

The woman, whose name Tomura just realised he didn’t even know, paid him no mind as she ate. Today, she looked different. Yesterday, Tomura had thought she looked young. Maybe a high school reject selling herself on the streets. But in the scant afternoon light, with some food under her belt, she looked older. Her face was more mature, her body filled out more in certain places. She was probably closer to his age.

By her clothes, he guessed she might have been a casual worker. Maybe retail? She wore a dark coat today that she hadn’t yesterday, burnt at the edges like she’d jumped through flames. Beneath it, a dark jumper, professional black pants, and sneakers. The shoes were a nice brand, and everything seemed to fit her well, even if disheveled. Her fashion spoke of money, a job, a normal life. So, how had she wound up here?

“What’s your name?” Tomura asked.

She looked up from where she was licking the bowl clean. “My name?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty rude of you to eat my food and not even introduce yourself.” Technically it was Kurogiri’s food since he’d made it, but Shigaraki was the boss, so by extension, it was his too.

The woman narrowed her eyes and Tomura could see gears turning behind them. She was probably weighing up whether or not to be honest about her identity. He didn’t exactly blame her in this line of work, but he didn’t need another distrustful subordinate with an alias. Dabi was bad enough.

“ Name ,” she said eventually.

“ Name , what?”

“Just name .”

Tomura scoffed. Distrust it was.

“Yours is Shigaraki... right?” she asked. “Tomura Shigaraki?”

It felt weird for Tomura to hear his name spoken without a Japanese accent. It felt weirder that she’d used the English ordering too, his given name first, family name last.

He grunted in confirmation.

Name nodded and turned the empty bowl in her hands, nails bedded with dirt. Without Kurogiri here to at least look busy cleaning glasses, it was just the two of them. And now that she’d finished eating, they were just sitting in silence.

It was so awkward .

Tomura was new to this whole leader thing, even newer to social interaction beyond the sphere of his upbringing under All For One. Playing the boss in a video game was easy, there were pre-programed character interactions, no ‘friendship’ quests. But stepping into the role in reality, he hated to admit that it was a lot trickier than he’d anticipated. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t even need to build a league. He could just take an army of Nomu right to All Might’s front door and finish the bastard off over breakfast.

But his master had tasked him with a larger role, the new Symbol of Fear . If Tomura was going to rule the underworld (and make no mistake, he wanted to) then he couldn’t screw up like he had at the USJ. He needed to form a tight knit group of elite soldiers this time. A vanguard. And to form that sort of group, he needed to step up, build trust and report.

He needed... he shuddered ... to make small talk.

The woman beat him to it. “It was good.” She nodded down to the bowl in her hands. “The stew was good.”

Tomura shrugged. “I didn’t make it.”

Name pointed toward the curtain Kurogiri had walked behind a moment ago. “Is he your... servant?”

“What? No.” Tomura’s nose screwed into a ball behind the hand mask still clasping his face. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know.” she said. “Just trying to figure out how things work around here.”

“Well, don’t.”

She folded her arms and stared ahead, jaw set. It was obvious she was holding back a retort. Not the type to say what’s on her mind then, Tomura thought. At least, not with strangers. Interesting .

“Kurogiri’s my...” Caretaker? Second in Command? “... bartender ,” he offered, and she nodded, loosing a breath.

They slipped back into silence.

He wasn’t sure why, but Tomura had to admit, he was curious about this woman. And hey, why not use this opportunity as a character analysis? Her flaws, strengths, fears, desires. She was the newest weapon in his inventory, and if he wanted to learn how best to use her, then he’d have to take her apart and learn what made her tick .

The bruises on her throat had rushed to the surface overnight. Tomura thought of his fingers there, the pulse he’d felt beneath them. He thought of his hand on her forearm, running over skin. It was strange knowing that there was someone he couldn’t decay. Made him feel itchy .

“Why’d you lie about having a quirk yesterday?”

Name’s eyes skirted away from him; she scanned the shelved bottles rather than meet his masked gaze. “I guess I’ve never grown used to it. I’m... bad at using it.”

This surprised Tomura. With a quirk like hers, he would have expected her to be a pro, or at the very least working in law enforcement. Even research. Some sort of top tier government job. With a quirk like that, so heroic , he would have expected her to be groomed for success since childhood. And yet...

“You were in that alley.”

She blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You were sleeping in that alley. You homeless or something?”

The woman shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“Then what?”

“I...” She looked down, flexed her fingers. “I was... taken . From my home. A week ago. I��ve just been trying to survive long enough to get back.” Her words were careful and precise, like she was watering down her story. A quick thinker then . Clever enough to keep her guard up around villains. That could mean she thought she was too good for this life. Or, that she’d been double crossed before. Either way, if Tomura wanted her loyalty, it meant he’d have to work for it.

How would he do that? He thought of what his master would do. He could almost see him, arms outstretched as he dove into another lecture on leadership.

“You are a wolf Tomura, rearing a flock. If you want them to see you as their shepherd, rather than their predator, you must learn what they need. Give that to them.”

Tomura propped his elbow up on the bar, cresting his chin as he tried to pick her apart with his glare. What did she need?

I need help . That’s what she’d said when she was annoying him back in the alley.

He gave her a lazy smile. “Why didn’t you go to the heroes if you’re so desperate for help?”

A hollowness entered her eyes and she looked away from him. “I did.”

“ Heh ." Tomura felt a surge of smugness. "So, the heroes didn’t help then?”

“No.”

She was taken from her home. What had she meant by taken?

“Did you get caught up in quirk trafficking or something?”

Name paused, then nodded her head. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Liar . Tomura sneered from behind Father. Every one of her answers so far had been thought out, avoiding. She was smart enough to keep her answers vague, but she’d agreed way too quickly then, which meant one thing: she was hiding something. Whoever or whatever had taken her here, she didn’t want him to know.

Tomura frowned. As a rule, he didn’t want any subordinates keeping secrets that could lead to liability. But... he had time before he planned to launch his next attack against the heroes. He supposed a challenge couldn’t hurt. Just another chance to gain XP.

“So, you’ve got nowhere to crash?” he said.

She shook her head.

Hook .

“And you’re all alone, isn’t that sad.”

She scowled this time. Finally , a reaction.

Line .

Beneath Father, Tomura grinned. He relaxed in his stool, king of the bar. “I guess I’ll help you, then. I am your boss now after all.”

Her eyes glazed over, lit up. The first gold of sunrise. The first sign of hope Tomura had seen on her pathetic face.

Sinker .

Maybe he wasn’t so bad at this recruiting thing.

Kurogiri walked out from behind the curtain. He had a phone up to the purple mist of his head. “Tomura Shigaraki,” he said in familiar Japanese, “you have a phone call. All For One is interested to hear what developments you have made in expanding the League of Villains.”

Tomura’s grin only widened. It seemed he’d have some progress to report.

“Yeah, okay. I’m done here anyway.” He jumped up from the stool. For the first time since Stain had waltzed into the picture days ago and saved over all his progress, Tomura felt like he’d had a win. With this woman as his steppingstone, he’d levelled up – no longer just a villain, he was now a boss villain . He couldn’t wait to keep expanding. He had a lot of work to do.

He switched back to English for her. “You can sleep here. In the storeroom Kurogiri put you in yesterday.”

She jumped up. “Seriously?”

“Sure,” Tomura turned away in time to see Kurogiri open a whirling black hole in the side of the wall. He took the phone.

“Wait, you said you were going to tell me what my first mission in the league was if I came today. So, what is it? What do I do?”

“You said you were shit at using your quirk. So, figure out how to use it,” Tomura said. “I need you useful to me.”

As he stepped into the mist, she called after him. “And how exactly do I do that?”

He smirked over his shoulder. “I’ll send you some target practice.” And then the portal closed around him, leaving the strange woman behind.

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kingtomura · 1 month

Text

Cat and mouse

synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words. wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc

You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen.

“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor.

She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”

“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something.

She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!”

You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.”

“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side.

“Thank you.”

“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.

“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all.

It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”

That hurt the most.

You had no idea what he was up to.

Maybe he was as depressed as you were.

Maybe he’s found someone else.

The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous.

You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees.

God, what if that was why it was so easy?

You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id.

Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you.

To your surprise, he hadn’t.

He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers.

You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing.

There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out.

“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura.

Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far.

There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet.

If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that.

You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.

It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.

You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile.

“We should probably get ready now, huh?”

Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.

“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!”

—-

Girl’s night was a bust.

The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.

In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day.

You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle.

The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge.

One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch.

The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains.

You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.

You had fallen asleep with everyone else.

The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.

Tomura.

Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you.

Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.

Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession.

When are you coming to get your shit?

I’m tired of waiting.

And I’m deleting our farm btw.

The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time.

But the third message…

Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?

This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.

Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy.

Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.

Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake.

There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.

After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by.

You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?”

Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”

Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”

“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you.

“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”

Of course you knew that.

You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there.

Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore.

So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously?

Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.

“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.

You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.

It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective.

But things are always easier said than done.

You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly.

He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”

“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.

“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.

You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”

“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.

It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you.

“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”

“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”

Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination.

“Could've fooled me.”

“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment.

“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”

“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”

“Bullshit—”

“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down.

He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”

“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?

Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now.

“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”

And there it is.

Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it.

You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard.

He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall.

Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet.

His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to.

“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”

He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen.

Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away.

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him.

He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of.

The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on.

You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.

It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections.

But that was not how you were.

And he loved it.

You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.

Push and pull.

Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face.

“Stop walking away from me!”

He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner.

“What are you going to do about it?”

The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch.

You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you.

You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.

It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment.

Cat and mouse.

You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest.

“Not so tough now, are you?”

It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would.

Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed.

He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”

You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”

His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact.

Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer.

You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible.

Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity.

He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”

“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt.

His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well.

The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more.

“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.

There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.

The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course.

You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer.

He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over.

The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.

“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression.

The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure.

“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”

It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure.

Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t.

He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high.

“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality.

Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell.

You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now.

So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time.

“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.

He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him.

He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom.

You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock.

There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.

It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.

Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon.

“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”

And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy.

“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”

He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication.

“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well.

Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.”

“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek.

You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.

It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it.

“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.

“Tomura, I—“

“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word.

“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.

“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”

You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long.

He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried.

The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it.

He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high.

The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.

You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again.

It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup.

Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”

“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking.

“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“You told me to go.”

“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”

“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”

“I just said I didn’t—“

“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?”

You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment.

He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”

“But you’ve never said it!”

“I show it!”

“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles.

He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”

You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again.

“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”

You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.

“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?”

Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is.

“Tomura…”

“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”

You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.

“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”

Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it.

“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.”

And it’s the truth.

Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.

He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss.

It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine.

You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.

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