#hero killer stain x reader

[trashcanfills]

Bruh why the FUCK did I get Stain from My Hero Acdemia in my dreams TWO TIMES IN A ROW???

My brain just can’t give me a break with this noseless bastard huh.

Anyone wondering what the dreams were: First one seemed like it was in an au where Stain becomes an Underground Hero instead. I was apparently a quirkless vigilante and was to unofficially support the Underground Hero Team in a mission to uncover some villain grp’s illegal activities in the hideout I discovered.

I was literally working overtime to keep the operation from failing cus some underground heroes did a couple of Oopsies and I had to cover for those while keeping up with other heroes as support, which Stain noticed and was somewhat impressed by? So he approached me, begrudgingly paid me a backhanded compliment and Eraserhead (yes this guy was part of the team and also was my main contact throughout since I wasnt allowed in the Hero comms oof) called him out lol and was bruh u were JUST commenting through the comms how efficient and effective their support was, which is practically your equivalent of singing praises to them and Stain became mildly flustered. Yes we did hook up in the end :^)

The second was one where he was still a villain like the canon universe, and I was a villain as well (likely for lov and somehow he was convinced?). Somehow WE had to infiltrate a HERO-affiliated organisation to obtain some information/documents and there was some event that allowed the public to visit and check the place out, which we took advantage of and posed as ordinary citizens lololololololol.

Hilariously, he was mostly disgruntled with the situation and kept attempting to go into restricted areas immediately to go speedrun the mission and I was like WHDJDIEJJS NO because ITS NOT THE RIGHT TIME TO DO SO and IT JEOPARDISES THE MISSION so I have to sneak around and forcibly drag him back. At some point I had to hug him by the arm while we are walking so I could keep him stuck with me and NOT GO AROUND ON HIS OWN LIKE A LONE WOLF FOR GODS SAKE STOP. >:((((

God that dream was stressful and I was so relieved when we managed to get what we wanted and leave. Then that bastard made some offhand comment abt being able to complete the mission faster if I let him do his shit instead to which I was like excuse me bitch I rather we finished it without having any long term consequences like i dunno leaving any evidence and have Heroes/the security staff noticing, which is sth YOU WOULD HAVE DONE BY STORMING IN AND KILLING THEM FUCKING DUMBASS.

These might become actual stories snippets one day if I bother to write them out but for now just have them as these brainrot ideas here

[tang3r1n]

cute idea but hero!chizome grappling with a hopeless crush on all might’s daughter figure (jus a chick he took under his wing izuku style)

like UGH. he’s such an old-school gentleman FUCK. he sends flower bouquets with your favorite flowers and like a 4 page letter with the most beautiful and eloquent language used to talk about how in love he is, and he talks like he’s fucking dying. exhibit a;

“i would lay myself at your alter, goddess, my insides laid out for your tasting, your pleasure— please eat of my flesh, consume me whole and let me feel accomplished as a simple, filling meal for you.

oh i beg of you, let my soul forever intertwine with yours, let me feels the silk of your skin, the heat of your breathe, plunge your hand into my heart and cherish it. sink your teeth into my neck and devour me.

i yearn for you, lovely thing. warmly, obsessively, lovingly, carnally, i can only hope you pity my foolish desires— my insane ramblings of fanatic and desperate attempts to gain your affections. please, please by the grace of all that is just and fair, let me worship you. let me treat you as you want to be.

i pray to no god but that of your body, of your mind, of your soul. there is no religion outside of your teachings, my muse. your word is my law, my written oath, music in the grand hall, the rain, the air, the existence of love. i would sooner accept death and the failure of my life’s work than to even acknowledge the existence of beauty that shines brighter than yours.

i beg of you, let my lowly hands hold you, let my soiled and ugly form touch and feel you, let me court you, my fair woman.

let me love you.”

omfg and he’s so petty. randoms in the street and fellow heroes flirting with you? he’s sighing and scoffing dramatically before completing dissecting their speech patterns, body posture, heroing skills, physical appearance, literally anything he can to make them leave you two alone

i feel like he doesn’t care abt how he looks (i mean duh no nose.) but the second you mention liking muscles he’s suddenly finding excuses to flex and stretch around you non stop, he’s doubling up his workout routine and bulking like a MOTHER FUCKER to see if you’re staring yet.

AAAHHH idk i just love chizome and need him insanely badly.

[bouncybongfairy]

Cummin’ For You

Stain x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Your friend's group convinces you to go to the woods where multiple Stain sightings have been reported. He singles you out and has his way with you.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Blood Kink, Knife Kink, Sex in Forrest, Rough Smut, Humiliation, Degradation, Polaroid Camera, CNC

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

“Don’t be lame just come with us, the guys will be there,” your friend whispered in a sing-song voice. 

“It just seems so stupid and cliche, going to the woods to drink and smoke. Doesn't it seem like they have ulterior motives?” you asked. 

“They really want to catch a glimpse of Stain, apparently he has been spotted there a couple times in the last two weeks. One of them is even bringing a polaroid camera to spot him, apparently it’ll be worth more if he sells it,” she blabs on. 

Eventually you just agree just to shut her up. Now walking on a barely established path, overhanging limbs from trees creating shadows from anything the moonlight gazed on. It was cold enough for the wind to break through your tights. Forcing you to hold the ends of your skirt down with both hands, despite your book bag sliding off your shoulder. They group finally stopped at a semi-rotting log. Unloading their backpacks full of alcohol, cigs and joints. You weren’t finding any amusement in their antics and instead taking in your surroundings more. It had recently rained and the ground smelled like rich, wet dirt; patchy and dry in some places. 

They offered you a seat but you refused. Your friend encourages you to take a swig from the bottle. You figured resisting would only tempt them to pester you more. Rather taking the one shot and being left alone about the matter. It burned your throat but also warmed your body up, you liked that. This sip led to another and then dominoed into a drag of both smoking materials being passed around. Joining everyone to sit along the wood. Suddenly the boys started freaking out, swearing they either heard or saw something. One of them was running around and holding his camera up, eyes wide like he could potentially miss the shot. The girls were all laughing at their desperate body language. Even though everyone was laughing about it. You were getting kinda paranoid, feeling like you kept seeing things out of the corner of your eye. 

“I dare you to come out you fucking poser!” one of them yelled out, provoking what they assumed to be Stain. 

With that, a small knife flew towards the group, landing inside the log. Everyone broke into chaos running in all directions.The boy with the camera dropped it onto the floor and ran without a second thought. One of the holes on your jean skirt got caught on a thick little branch. You were tugging and ripping at the fabric but to no avail. Feeling intimidated you pulled the blade out of the log and armed yourself with it. Hand shaking while looking around with big glazed over eyes. Breathe heavy and try your best to monitor all around you. He dropped down in front of you suddenly, making you jump and almost trip back against the log. Shaking and tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. Barely being able to see him at first but finally taking in more of his appearance as he came closer. Red and cream colored fabrics that were ripped, hanging off him like a scarf. Bandages wrapped around his eyes and arms; wearing thick black pants along with knee pads boots with spikes along the feet. 

His tactical vest was covered in knives, at least two 10 inch blades on either side of him. Red eyes staring back at you, almost glowing, slowly coming closer causing you to panic, finally ripping the fabric of the skirt and making a break for it. You could hear his cackling in amusement as you ran. You tried your best to keep quiet but between all debris crunching under your feet and hyperventilations it was near impossible. You were drunk, disoriented and not sure what direction was out of these stupid fucking woods. Repeatedly stumbling and tearing your knees and hands up against the unforgiving forest floor. Black mascara stained tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. This was one of his favorite parts: the chase. 

Watching how desperate you are to get away but slowly losing stamina. Like a wounded animal trying to get away from an apex predator. It made his body burn with adrenaline, he couldn’t get enough. Watching you helplessly prance around, almost like you were asking to be pinned down and mangled. Not seeing yourself being able to maintain distance, you decided to look for a hiding place. Finding a slightly hollowed out tree trunk and practically throwing yourself into it. Using your hand to cover your mouth, not trusting yourself to unintentional noises. You could hear dry leaves and small branches crunch under his feet. Laughing to himself every now and then, in between small whistles. Shaking like a leaf, waiting for him to move past you. 

“Where are you?” his rough voice cut through the night, you could hear him get closer, “ahh, there you are,” he said, which made your eyes widen and ears ring. He came around from behind the tree stump, towering over you. Hiding any bit of moonlight that was once casting down onto you. 

“God you just were made to be ruined huh?” he asked himself, bending down and admiring the sight. Completely frozen in fear, back against the stump. He stood in between your only escape route. You pulled your knees to your chest as he pulled out a blade, gesturing you to come out. Immediately your heart drops into your chest, petrified and unsure what to do. 

“I don’t remember snapping your ankles yet, so get the fuck up,” he growled, clearly becoming impatient. Still frozen, you don’t comply until he brings the cold blade under your chin, nicking the skin while guiding you to your feet. 

“Don’t be so scared. I’m entitled to some kind of outlet, no? Honestly why do some people care if i’m addicted to sex, that I crave hurting people. It’s not like anyones is in danger, well except for you that is,” he spoke, grinning from ear to ear. 

His breath was beginning to grow ragged, like he was holding himself back. The tears were beginning to make your face sticky, of course that wasn’t the only part of you that was wet. As scared as you were, he was a sight to take in. Very muscular but still lean and lanky. Dry blood on his badges and his eyes were full of greed and lust. He came closer, pushing your back against the stump. The blade was so sharp that when he cut your shirt down the middle, it slid down like butter. Blood from the nick on your chin was dripping down, leaving a train between your breasts. He gripped onto one of your nipples and pulled you out into the open. Pinching so tightly that his nail beds were white. He bent down and cut a hole into your tights. Lining up the ripped fabric with your dripping slit. It was so cold out that he swore your cunt was practically letting off steam. He dipped his middle finger into your folds, pressing his digit against your slit and gently rubbing back and forth. Coating his fingers in your wetness and rubbing your lips. Covering your sex in the sticky juices. Slapping you when he saw that you were enjoying yourself too much. 

“You think I'm here to give you what you want? No, you’re here for my pleasure,” he said, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder. 

You immediately begin to scream in pain, squirming and fighting against the burning sting. He loved marking you, it always gets him more riled up than anything. Knowing his teeth will be bared into your skin for weeks. Loving the way your blood began to pool in his mouth, he loved being a fucking freak. He loved it even more when his bait was so responsive to him. Almost like you were putting on a show just from him; his pleasure. Moving his bites all around your body till you were on the floor gasping and withering. You rake your fingers through his hair and start pulling and tugging. Trying anything to relieve the pain his mouth was giving you. It only fueled him, grabbing his knife and cutting just under your collarbone. Wiping away any of your fragmented ideas that you had any sovereignty. He continued until you were breaking down, fighting against him less and laying there like a perfect little doll. He stood up and admired his work, completely overpowered and laying still on the dirt. Turning into mud from the blood running off your body.

“I’m dizzy,” you slurred, he sucked in a deep breath. 

“Fuck I just can’t resist this face darling,” he said grabbing your cheeks, loving how dilated and glazed over those pretty little eyes were. 

He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be in your heat. To feel your walls encapsulate him while watching your face twist and scrunch. He freed his member from his pants, groaning as the cold night air hit him. Coming down and lining him length with your entrance. Tracing your slit from your dripping hole up to your clit. Loving how you were digging your nails into your knees to handle the overwhelming pleasure. Pushing himself inside, he never felt anything tighter. Your sex perfectly wraps around his cock, pulling him back in whenever he slides in and out. Using you for pleasure, letting his upper body fall against your skin. The heavy weight of him pushing the air out of your chest. Making your face turn the most perfect shade of red. The wet sounds of his hips snapping against your skin while raspy moans and gasp fell out of your mouth. 

Holding your head to the ground, watching your eyes roll back. Completely dazed and fucked out of your mind. At the mercy of whatever sick and twisted thoughts he had. He continued pounding himself into you, sweat dripping down his forehead. Putting all his might into shoving himself deeper and deeper. His saliva falling onto your chest like he was a rabid animal. Growling and groaning as he felt his body teetering to the edge. You tilt your head to the side and bite down onto his forearm, a last attempt at fighting back. He let out the most sinister laugh as he finally came. 

Fucking into you, pulling out to the tip with every thrust. Fighting the urge to keep himself pressed inside you while cumming. You had stars in your vision and were slowly becoming more incoherent. Making him feel proud and accomplished. Pulling out and spreading your leg, watching his load leak out of you. Spotting the polaroid camera one of the guys dropped into the ground. This was just too good to be true, he picked up the camera and took a few pictures. A couple of your stretched out and leaking cunt, some of the bite marks and cuts. Smacking your face to wake you up, wanting to catch your scared and disconnected eyes on film. Finally feeling happy with his work, he cleaned up and left you to wake up with your tights around your neck.

[princesayumi4k]

SHIGARAKI TOMURA:

100% a tits guy, he doesn't care about size, doesn't care about gender, tits, titties, boobs.

He doesn't grab them often even though he loves to, he'll sandwich his face in them, lay in them, kiss them, titjob galore and will lick your underboob as he teases your clit/tip.

SHOUTA AIZAWA:

A thigh guy for sure, he likes wrapping you with his scarf and watch your thigh fat go over the scarf, even if they're small. Doesn't care about size but would probably prefer someone with more thigh fat just so he can see the droop.

Thighjobs basically everyday, squishes them, lays his head in them (and sometimes naps in them), etc.

TOUYA TODOROKI/DABI:

Ass guy. Ass, ass, ass.

Why? He likes to burn his handprint into your ass, even through your pants (even though you yell at him for it, it just turns him on more). He'll smack it, fuck it, spit on it, he'll rail it while fucking you good infant of the mirror so he gets multiple angles.

ATSUHIRO SAKO/MR. COMPRESS:

Is very chill with it, but a proud thigh lover, he doesn't really know why himself...maybe it's because his s/o's thighs are so soft...squishy...maybe it's because his dick fits so perfectly between them...he doesn't know but they're amazing.

STAIN:

1000% ass guy, smacks it even when people are watching, eats ass like it's a job and will fuck you from the back with or without a mirror in front. Just likes seeing your ass jiggle and fill up with his seed.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU:

Cannot tell me this man isn't an ass guy, he's a mix of Dabi and Stain but mostly Stain related.

With or without a mirror he'll be fucking you hard from the back, one hand on your head pushing you against ANYTHING as he leans back from you and fucks you (bonus: if you're a girl, on your period he thinks it's a reward since he can't fuck you on your period- unless you let him...), he'll use his free hand to occasionally smack your ass once you get you quiet for more noise.

HANTA SERO:

Casual tits guy. More of a looker than a toucher though, he likes sucking on them, soapy tit pics are his favorite and he likes fondling them when he gets the chance, no matter the size/shape.

KIRISHIMA EIJIRO:

Proudly an ass guy, smacks it every time he walks past you, or even grabs it (since he loves PDA).

Smushes his face in it too, even if you think it's (at least a bit) weird. Doesn't eat your ass though, just likes squishing and smushing it.

DENKI KAMINARI:

Loves tits, titties, breasts and boobs everyday and night.

He's kind of like Sero, rather a looker than toucher but looker is an understatement. He stares, a bit of cleavage and your eyes suddenly don't exist to him.

He does act like Tomura and Sero though, licks your underboob, squishes it, licks, sucks, etc.

ANY MORE? COMMENT! 🤍

[daisies-daydreams]

Stain NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: Like...everything under the sun.

A/N: Time for 2 AM horny thoughts.

Side Note: The gif 👀😩

(Headcanons below the cut)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sorry, but Stain's aftercare game is sorely lacking. He's more likely to kiss you before slipping out of bed and back into the dark night. You’d have to bring it up to him if you really want it. Stain would be a bit awkward with aftercare at first, but he'll get better with practice.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part on himself is his hands. Sure, he uses them to dispose of “fake” heroes, but he also sees it as a way of protecting you and innocents. His favorite body parts on you are your breasts and eyes. He loves to grab and knead your breasts when he has you writhing beneath him or riding on top of him. Stain adores eye contact while he’s fucking you senseless, because it gives him a sense of belonging and confidence.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Stain loves to cum on your breasts. He’ll jerk himself off sometimes, his thighs slotted against your upper arms, his long tongue lolling out of his parted lips as he paints his thick cum across your clavicle and tits. His favorite place to cum, though, is inside of you. He feels like he’s claiming you as his and his alone. There’s a lot of it, too, and he loves to shove it back inside when it leaks out of your fucked out, puckering hole.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Stain stole your dirty underwear when you two were first starting to get to know each other. For several weeks, he jerked himself off in his dingy apartment as he constantly inhaled the scent of your musk and lapped at your panties. Stain’s never cummed so hard in his entire life.

(He still has the underwear at his apartment). 👀🤭

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think he’d have little experience with how devoted he is to his mission. He might’ve had a few one-night stands, but that’s about it. It surprised Stain when he kept wanting to see you again and again, each time increasing with intensity and desire. He watched a little bit of porn when he was a teenager, too, so he’d know some basic things (and some not so basic things).

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, or any position where you’re below him and he can still see your face twist in pleasure. Mating press would be a close second. There’s just something intoxicating about spreading your legs wide and folding you in half while he stuffs you with his cum over and over again. Cowgirl would have to be his third, since he gets to see your tits bounce and jiggle in front of his face as you slide up and down his thick cock.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely serious. Stain might tease you a little, but sex is something he wants to savor for the majority of it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has a wild bush growing down there. Stain never saw it as necessary to groom himself, so it’s an untamed cluster of thick, black curls. (He might trim it up a bit if you ask him, though).

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not very romantic (sorry). He’s more feral than anything, growling and snarling and manhandling you as he pumps his cock into you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Stain masturbated before he met you, though the frequency was pretty scarce. Now that he has you, though, his urge to jerk off is almost non-existent.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think Stain has a hidden praise kink, like if you were to say “You’re such a good boy”, he’d freeze while pounding you and just go 😳😶. Praising him will always give him a boost, since most of what he’s known in his life is rejection or neglect from other people.

Stain definitely has a bondage kink, too, and would be persistent with using his Quirk on you (only with your permission, though).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

100% the bedroom. When he fucks you on the bed, he gets to watch as you unravel beneath him while he can view his cock plugging into your sweet pussy. He's fantasized about taking you from behind in a dark alley, though he's too well aware of the legal repercussions if both of you get caught.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you in tight-fitting clothing or randomly sitting in his lap. Also, small compliments or simple, lingering touches (poor thing is so touched starved 🥺).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Shit/piss play is a big turn off for him. Pegging is also something he’s weary of and will refuse if you ask him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Holy fuck, does this man love giving you oral. The sweet taste of your juices is intoxicating to him, let alone the feeling of your walls writhing around his wet muscle. He’s got a big tongue, too, so you know he could easily fill you up and rub your clit at the same time.

As for receiving, he enjoys it just as much as giving. Stain’s a little bit on the longer side so it would take some getting used to. The moment your lips are wrapped around the head of his cock, Stain swears he’s going to cum right there and then.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Stain is usually pretty rough with you (it's so easy for him to get pussy drunk😩). However, if he's feeling more relaxed, he'll more likely than not take his time with you, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are a norm with Stain, especially if he feels the need to release some pent up tension.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Two words: knife play. He won’t do it if you’re uncomfortable, but given how many blades he’s packing, he's bound to bring it up eventually.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man’s stamina is through the fucking roof. Good luck trying to keep up with him, because even with his refractory period(s), he can go for a good four to five rounds, each lasting five to twenty minutes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Stain doesn’t prefer to use toys. He wants to be the only one to make you cum. He actually gets pretty jealous if you choose to use a dildo/vibrator on yourself. 🤭

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Some teasing, and he's always smug when he does it.

“Hm? You’re already cumming? It hasn’t even been five minutes yet, doll”.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Stain’s not very loud. Maybe some grunting and growling. Even his teasing is said through low, husky whispers.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Stain has one small frenum piercing just below the head of his cock. He got it when he was drunk one night and just kept it, since it “matched his style”.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Stain has an average girth, but he’s hung like a horse. A good 8.5 inches with a bit of curve. His cock's a bit darker than the rest of his body and the tip turns a bright, cherry red when he's turned on. Uncut.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Somewhat higher than average. The man can go without it for long periods of time, though the consequence is making up for lost time (4-5 rounds, anyone?).

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Is fairly quick to fall asleep afterwards. He’s not much of a talker, but he’ll always feel a longing keep you close after a particularly long session.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

NSFW Alphabet Prompt By @the-coldest-goodbye

[raccoonsrummagerostrum]

Raccoon Rummage Rostrum Master list

Predator 

Yautja 

Headcannons 

Yautja Reacts to Piercings

Yautja Reacts to Tattoos

Yautja Reacts to Your Dog

Yautja x Artist/Craftsperson S/O

Yautja x Trans Reader

Coming Out to your Yautja Lover

Requests

Yautja Reacts to your Taste in Music

Yautja x Blacksmith S/O

Yautja x Preschool Teacher S/O

Yautja x Contortionist S/O

Yautja x Shapeshifter S/O

Yautja x Chiropractor S/O

Yautja vs Bottom Surgery Recovery Part 1 Part 2

Yautja vs ADHD

Twisted Memories (yautja comfort)

Yautja series (in order)

Yautja Accidentally Scares You

Yautja vs. Hiccups

Glow Stick (panic/comfort)

Yautja vs Menstruation Part 1 Part 2

Valentines Day Special

Yautja Reacts to Sensory Overload

The Storm (hurt/comfort)

Yautja x Reader Fluffy Fluff

Yautja gets Sick

Meeting the Clan Part 1 Part 2 Part3

Mha

Stain 

Hero Killer Moving in Headcannons

Chizome Akaguro x Chiropractor Reader

Resident Evil

Chris Redfield

Chris reverse Comfort

Chris reacts to you crying

[suggiesug]

stain x BRATTY AFAB reader

kink list: dirty talk, dom/sub, spanking, enemies to lovers(?) vibe, orgasm + pleasure denial

“Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Things had been going on like this for weeks now. It was no secret to anyone that you were a brat. You want control. You want power. You want the universe to be how you want it to be, and everything served on a silver platter. Every tick and tock of a clock is to be on your command and no one else's.

“Good kitten. Spread those pretty legs for me. I want to see everything.”

Every brat needs a disciplinary figure. You've found yours in the one man who never fails to bring you to your knees with his presence alone.

The tips of calloused fingers grazing the insides of your thighs has you shivering, instinctively bringing your legs closer together by dragging your knees across the hardwood floor. A sudden, scolding ’ah’ reaches your ears before a boot-clad foot kicks one of your knees out again, a huff leaving you as you're made to spread your quivering thighs apart.

“Don’t run from it.”

The hero killer’s voice used to grind on you in the worst of ways, rough and something else to hate about a man with so few other redeeming qualities. Now, it makes you shudder, visibly trembling as the fingers return to your thighs. An amused huff sounds out behind you, and you have half a mind to twist your head around and snap at the other.

But you don’t. You remain on your hands and knees, legs spread, anxious for what Chizome might do to you next. 

“You’ve become so well-behaved these past few weeks,” he purrs, voice dripping with a taunting sweetness as the tips of his fingers trace the curve over your ass, lingering over your left buttock. “Have you been not touching yourself as I asked?”

“Yes,” you mumble your reply, then let out a sharp gasp when the fingers tracing vague shapes on your ass cheek suddenly dip down between your legs, teasing over the lips of your pussy. The way you flinch and jerk forward slightly has a rumbling chuckle leaving the man behind you, your fingers curling to form trembling fists on the ground in front of you.

“Yes what?” Just as quickly as he’d been chuckling in amusement at your cute little flinch, Chizome’s winding a hand back and harshly bringing it forward against the same cheek he’d been caressing only moments ago. The smack reverberates through the room; as does the harsh yelp you let out, your entire body jolting and your eyes opening wide. You whimper, thighs and arms trembling as they struggle to keep you up. The burn on your cheek lets you know that there’s most certainly a nice, red handprint there. No doubt it’ll linger for a while.

“Yes… sir.”

“Good kitten.”

The same hand that had spanked you goes right back to gentle, painfully slow caresses to the same cheek. If you didn’t know any better, you'd say it was Chizome’s silent way of apologizing. But you know well enough to realize that he’s simply admiring his work. The hand dips down between your legs again, and you're prepared as fingers glide across your wet heat this time, doing nothing more than shuddering.

“You’re so wet,” Chizome coos, and you keep your mouth shut instead of congratulating him for stating the obvious. “You must be eager if this is all it takes. How long has it been now?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks,” he repeats, and your hips twitch when a calloused fingertip rubs over your clit before pausing on it. “Two weeks since you last came. How much longer do you think you can go, hm?”

Your head turns at that, glaring at Chizome the best you can from such an awkward angle. How much longer? The whole point of Chizome coming here today was so that you could get off. Who does this bastard think he is?

Said bastard immediately huffs out a laugh at your little glare, a grin spreading wide across his face. 

The next second, you're lurching forward and yelping yet again when another smack is administered to your previously unmarked cheek, no doubt giving a matching handprint to it. You shudder and let out a whimper, trembling arms giving in and lowering you to the floor. With your forehead pressed to the ground and your forearms either side of you, your position only spreads you out all the more, and Chizome seems to enjoy the change, judging by how he hums and caresses the newly reddened cheek.

“I asked you a question, slut,” With a voice just as demanding as before, Chizome’s purrs turn into something rougher; something less teasing and more aggressive. 

You whimper, your hips instinctually wiggling from side to side.

“As long as you want me to, sir.”

A huff sounds out behind you, and you know you picked the correct answer when the other’s fingers return to gliding along your slick lips.

“That’s right. Good kitten.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

[julie810xd]

Stain x Y/N Kids

[bloody-peach]

Ok. It's decided.

1: A smut fic with Hero Killer Stain x F!Reader based on my adventures with a Stain chatbot (I'll explain when I post the finished fic)

2. A Shigaraki x F!Reader x Dabi threesome smut fic where the reader is their pet. (Based on my fantasy posted in my personal blog)

May take a while, but they will be made! Stay tuned and keep an eye out!

[hanzyyme]

No longer a hero

Angst

When Shoto found your body laying down on the concrete floor, all he did was froze. All he knew was hero killer did not just killed many heroes that did their jobs but he also killed his hero.

"Y/n! Y/n! Stay with me!" He kneeled down close to your body and checked your pulse. Tears threatend to spill when all he felt was the light pumping of your heart beat.

"Unfortunate for you but shes a loss cost" Hero Killer laughed, taking a taste of your blood as he watched shoto mourned in agony. Slowly walking closer, he whispered to Shoto's ear "Why wont you join her in hell?" His hot breath sent shivers. "The only person who's going to hell is you, bitch" Shoto attacks with his fire.

"If heroes are meant to spare villains like you, then im no longer a hero because im bringing you down worser than hell for touching her."

Hello!! Its been a while 😭 im sorry for not being that active but I promise ill try posting more! Ive been busy with school and my personal life and I hope you all understand!

[mkendlic]

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Original Character(s), Class 1-A (My Hero Academia) & Original Character(s), Bakugou Katsuki/Original Female Character(s), Bakugou Katsuki/Reader, Midoriya Izuku/Reader, Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku/Reader, Todoroki Shouto/Reader, Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto Characters: Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijirou, Todoroki Shouto, Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Uraraka Ochako, Iida Tenya, Satou Rikidou, Tokoyami Fumikage, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Sensei | All For One, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Yaoyorozu Momo, Asui Tsuyu, Jirou Kyouka, Shouji Mezou, Ojiro Mashirao, Shinsou Hitoshi, Kota Koji, Toru Hagakure, Yuga Aoyama, Class 1-B (My Hero Academia), League of Villains (My Hero Academia), Takami Keigo | Hawks, Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Masaru, Bakugo Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku - Character Additional Tags: Graphic Description, Eventual Romance, Original Character(s), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Trauma, Badass, powerful quirk, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, a lot of sarcasm, aizawa is a dad!!, midnight is a great mom, principle nezu is a ray of sunshine, Slow Burn, Fluff and Smut, Sexual Tension, long fic, Past Child Abuse, past trauma, Blood and Injury, Violence Summary:

As a young teen trying to figure what its like to be a normal teenager…well as normal as one can be in a world with QUIRKS! Nozomi Akumu tries to figure out, what its like to even be a student in high school. While being a pro hero at the age of 15. She’s determine to not let her past control her any longer. Will she find revenge in killing the man that destroyed her life? Or will she finally understand the meaning her parents taught her long ago? Come along on the journey that is Nozomi Akumu’s life. And find out why is her quirk so fearful.

[spidernuggets]

Hi hope you’re having a good/night can you do a Jason Todd x detective fem reader. She meets Jason , but she meets him when he’s red hood at a crime scene.

Jason Todd x FemDetective!Reader

"So you're the guy that's making my paperwork pile up higher than the Empire State Building."

"Christ, another one?" One of your coworkers said as the limp, dead body was zipped up into a body, and evidence collected and put away.

You shrug a shoulder, writing down in your notepad a list of suspects and witnesses involved in this new murder, which was also linked to other recent killings.

"Adam Matthews." You state the victim's name.

"Drug dealer?" Your coworker asks, looking at the substance that Matthews had on his person being bagged for evidence.

"Mm. He was a cook for a drug dealer who tested on homeless kids or orphans. But Matthews was also known for being an accessory for other murders, kidnappings, and was guilty for sexual assaults," you state, sighing, putting your notebook away.

Your coworker fell shocked. "How the fuck is he not locked up?!" He yells.

"Links with richies," you scoff. "Well, he's dead now. His long, overdue debt it now paid." You always believed these kinds of people never deserved a second chance. All the previous murder victims were similar to Adam Matthews. So, others may call you crazy, but you were thankful for this anonymous killer going out of their way, killing scumbags like Matthews.

"I'm going to scout around the area, Parks," you told your coworker as he nodded and went to discuss with the other officers around the area.

You shone your flashlight around the narrow alleys, searching for any clues or evidence you could use to help solve the crime and catch the murderer. Or in your eyes an anti-hero.

Just as you were about to turn around and return to the scene, you heard grunts and strings of profanity coming from behind one of the dumpsters.

Your hand hovered over your gun in your hip holster, walking towards the sounds.

You swiftly turned to see the source, hand on the handle of the gun, and saw a certain, outlawed vigilante leaning on the dumpster, holding his arm, his body stained with blood.

His helmet lay in between his legs, his domino mask remaining on his face.

"What the fu- Red Hood??" You exclaim.

"You mind?" He groans, holding his hand out, trying to avoid the flash shining in his eyes.

"Shit, sorry," you reoly, turning it off and placing it on your utility belt. Your head tilted to the side, seeing that Red Hood was struggling to wrap his arm up. "It's loose," you say, referring to the bandage- or rag that he was tying around his bicep.

"Wow, really? Didn't- fuck- didn't notice," he says, cursing once more when the bandage fell down.

You roll your eyes, crouching beside his and taking the bandage from his, unwrapping his arm and rewrapping it tighter as it should be.

"So you're the guy that's making my paperwork pile up higher than the Empire State Building." You mutter, tying the bandage to stay in place.

"Sorry, little cop lady. Just doing my job." He hisses.

"It's little detrctice lady to you. And I'd appreciate it if you made your little killing sprees a little more discreet. Eventually, the actual cops are gonna catch your ass," you snicker, getting up.

"As if I let them." He bites back.

"L/n. Where are you?" Parks says through your walkie. "Did you find anything?"

Red Hood gets up, putting his helmet back on, looking down at you, waiting for your response.

You click on the button to reply. "No. Nothing here. Coming back now."

The white glowing eyes pierce through yours as Red Hood chuckles. "Hiding a criminal? Haven't taken a look through the law book in a while, but isn't that illegal?" You couldn't see it, but Red Hood grinned, amised at this new encounter.

You shrugged. "I'm only doing this because I know I can't stop you, even if I wanted to. Besides. If these ass rat criminals kept scurrying around, the papaerwork would be much more than you're making." You smirk.

He laughs. "So you're saying you don't want to stop me?" He crosses his arms.

"Have a good night, Mr. Hood." You bid him goodbye, walking back to the crime scene.

"And to you too, little detective lady," he says, quietly hoping to run into again after he puts lead into the head of his next target.

"Jeez, I thought you died or something. You were gone for a while, are you sure you didn't find anything?" Parks quickly asks you.

You quickly wipe away the blood on your palms from Red Hood's wound onto your black jeans. "Save the interrogation for the suspects, Parks. Nothing there but dead rats and graffiti."

You walk off, almost missing the shine of a red helmet running off on the roof of a building in the distance as you smirk to yourself, also secretly hoping Red Hood would cause another casualty to meet him again.

Parks was about to walk off, too, almost missing the tiniest splotch of red on your white shirt as he raised an eyebrow.

I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO MAKE IT SO SHORT!!!

I didn't want to leave this ask in my inbox for too long and forget about it 😭😭

BUTTTT if you or anyone else wants!!! I can make a part 2 where Reader and Red Hood begin a constant meetup after every death Red Hood causes (only to those criminals who deserve it, obvi). And Parks becomes suspicious of Reader and threatens her or that Reader's job is put on the line!!!!

I was going to add this idea in, but I'm really bad at making long fics cuz I always wanna get it over and done with and I'm so impatient 😭

HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT ANYWAYS 🙏🙏

[bleachification]

⸻ EVERYTHING IS BLUE

pairing: dabi x reader

word count: 2.2k

synopsis:  when life gave you a second chance to meet your supposedly dead childhood friend, you never expected it to be in the form of a villainous encounter. your once beloved toya is now dabi—a cruel, twisted silhouette of the gentle boy he used to be. 

note: includes mentions of grief and insomnia

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

There is a very famous saying: Love conquers all. 

Supposedly love transcends time. 

Space. 

Death. 

It buries sin and cures suffering, lightening the world and its burdens. It is presented with such a peculiar resemblance to what some herald as Heaven’s gift from above—a sublime feeling only justifiable by the overpowering divine or mystical. You see it in the stars; unreachable. In the sunsets and dawn; dazzling.

But you also see it in the darkness; for the act of love has made fools of many, robbing them blind of reason and humanity. It has made liars and killers—corrupted and instilled madness. And it seldom lets its victims go. 

Love creates weakness. 

You vowed to never let it make you weak again. 

After all, the last time almost killed you. But who could blame you? Toya was dear to you. Toya was special. The closest thing to a soulmate you could ever fathom. The boy was your childhood best friend and the earliest memory of happiness you can recall. Now, that is all he is—a distant, fleeting memory that whispers of fractured promises and bygone dreams. He is never more than a nostalgic breeze tickling your skin, or a particularly bright star on an early winter night. 

He exists between the lines of your past. Simply there. But never next to you. Never in arms reach. 

As time passed agonizingly, you had slowly begun to forget the most basic things, such as the bright tenor of his laugh and the soft sound of his steps—sensations you used to know by heart. 

Sometimes, you can only remember the features of his face by looking at an old photograph you had kept. It is one of black and white film, stained on the back and crinkled at the edges from the wear of time. In it, Toya is smiling, a small hand raised up in a wave at whoever was behind the camera. You can’t remember. 

Was it your mother? His? You hope it was the former. She always adored Toya.   

His left arm was slung over your shoulder and the both of you had cake and icing smudged on your faces, courtesy of one another. 

That day—your birthday—is one of the last times you saw him alive. 

So why on earth do you see that little boy in the eyes of a villain?

The face of a young man covered in gnarled purple scars is plastered across the city. Video footage from a high speed chase is being shown in an emergency broadcast on every single screen covering the downtown core. 

His name is Dabi. Prominent member of the League of Villains. It is an organization the Pro Heroes—your colleagues—are adamantly trying to dismantle. 

The man’s picture is blown up on the big screens alongside three other criminals, each involved in the chase currently carving through the city blocks.

Something about him is so familiar, but you can’t grasp exactly what. 

Grief and nostalgia must be playing tricks again. To see a dead child’s face in a villain’s visage is ridiculous.

Laughable. 

But it wouldn’t be the first time you had… hallucinated Toya’s image. 

With a sigh, you peel your dry eyes away from the ward’s television and shut the channel off. The room is eerily silent in the late night, void of the tv’s noise. You like it. Silence helps calm the mind. Settles the chaos. 

You stand and make your way out of the ward, down the empty hallway, and into your personal office. The room is clean and tidy, the only thing out of place is a stack of research papers strewn across your mahogany desk. You round the corner and settle into the soft velvet seat of your armchair before running your right hand along the underside of the table. A familiar click sounds as you locate the button and a small cabinet pops open from the left shelf. 

Three bottles sit inside. Unassuming white ones with generic labels. You pop the smallest bottle open and dump a pill out. The red medication tastes like chalk as it grazes your tongue. 

After a second of consideration, you take another, hoping these sleeping pills will be strong enough to stave off the nightmares and vivid hallucinations. 

Hope. It’s such a small word, but also such a large one. Hope was all you had at one point. It was the only thing grounding you to a reality without him. You had hoped it was all a mistake—a joke, even. Toya would pop his head from the corner and yell: “Gotcha!”

He would be fine. Alive. 

Anything but a husk of a human, burnt beyond recognition, suffocating in the flames of his own blood.

Now, hope is nothing but a pretty word to throw around when meaning is lost. 

You close your eyes and lose yourself to a dreamless sleep. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　  

You are experiencing a startling sense of deja vu. The television glitches, interrupting regularly scheduled programming. A familiar figure appears. 

I, Toya Todorioki, was born as the eldest son of Endeavour. 

The world—your world freezes. The only thing you can comprehend is the man on your screen.

You stand up, shaking. Then, you run. Heroes and medical staff alike shout after you, but it all fades into a blur. There is only one destination in your mind—and it is a dangerous, painful place. 

It doesn’t take long for you to locate him. The city is in turmoil, buildings have been razed to the ground and rubble covers the once bustling space. You spot Shoto and his father up ahead, mere steps away. And in front of him stands Dabi—no—Toya. Your Toya. 

His hair is white now, the natural color no longer concealed once he revealed his identity. The scars have spread from the last time you saw him online. No matter. You knew it. You knew it was him. How could you forget?

Enji rasps out something in disbelief. 

Toya only smiles wide and responds with a sardonic confirmation. You could see it in their eyes—a living nightmare had come true for the Todoroki family.

But you? All you cared about was reaching Toya. None of them have seen you yet, so you take advantage of that by quietly making your way closer. The muffled voices turn clearer as the distance shrinks. Toya is speaking to his father and brother, words spilling out in frantic turmoil. The rawness of his voice rings through. Such intense anger and hatred cannot be faked. The two others are stricken by Toya’s address. You don’t blame them; the brutality of his language guts even you. 

Shoto notices you first. His eyes widen, almost imperceptibly, but Toya notices anyway. Your old friend whips around in your direction. You freeze as his eyes land on you. Recognition immediately flashes across his face.

His face. You feel as though you have been hurtled through space and time, brought back to simpler days. A scraped knee on the playground. Food fights in the cafeteria. A million pinky promises made.

A kid you called your best friend, reduced to ash and bones. 

These memories, both awful and radiant, wash over you with so much force you almost collapse. You silently praise yourself for keeping upright against the emotional onslaught. 

“Y/N, get out of here!” Shoto yells out, urging you away in a panic. 

You ignore him. Nothing else exists right now. Not Shoto. Not his father. Only him. 

“Y/N.” The way Toya says your name is almost questioning. As if he can’t believe you’re even here. 

You’ve somehow ended up right before him. Inches separate you, if barely. 

“Hi Toya,” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper. It would crack otherwise. 

He’s stunned, looking like the air was knocked from his lungs. Seconds fade into forever as his familiar gaze locks onto yours, searching—but for what, you can’t tell. It takes a moment for him to seemingly gather himself. The cynical persona quickly slides back into place.

“This is a nice surprise, but I’m afraid you have me all wrong. Toya is dead, Y/N. Dabi is all that is left—all that I am.”

You swallow. The air tastes of blood. “Somehow I don’t believe that.”

Don’t? Or won’t?

He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Well, it doesn’t matter what you believe. C’mon, Y/N! Don’t tell me you still have faith in who I used to be. That kid you knew is dead. Gone forever.”

You shake your head, refusing to take in his words.

“And yet, you’re standing right in front of me… how…?” Without thinking, you raise a hand up to touch his cheek. You’re operating on instinct, not logic. It's the instinct to comfort him—just like he did for you when you were children. 

But you stop yourself right before making contact with him, unsure. Toya’s gaze flits to your hand for a split second before returning to your face. There’s a question in his eyes—one you aren’t sure either of you can answer. 

“Why pretend you care? It’s cruel,” he murmurs, a subtle accusation coating his tone.

“What are you talking about? Of course I care.” You answer, bewildered. 

Pretend? How could he even begin to think that? When you’ve spent your entire life missing him?

“Then why did you move across the world the second you hit adulthood? You couldn’t even stay.”

“I thought you were dead. I mourned you. I grieved until what felt like my last breath. I left because every single second I stayed felt like reliving your death all over again.”

“And when you finally came back you were, what, healed? Moved on?” He laughs bitterly, arms spread in mockery. 

“Moved on?” You shake your head, the pain in your throat almost suffocating. “I saw you everywhere. Not just in dreams and nightmares. Hallucinating a dead person… I thought I was losing my mind! Even right now I’m praying this isn’t some sick, twisted nightmare.”

He drops his arms as well as the smile on his face. “Well, you’re in luck, Y/N. This is very much real. See, I thought things could change. That the consequences meant something to them. They lived my death and nothing happened! They saw what it did to me—the power, the ego, the fucking obsession that ruined this family—and did nothing!

“He’s a disease, don’t you get it? They all are. I’m simply here to rid the world of that sickness. I’m the cure, Y/N. I’ll burn the rot right out of the earth.”

Endeavour scrambles. “Son, don’t do this! Don’t—!”

“Son? Son?” Toya sneers. “You lost that right a long time ago, oh mighty Number One Hero.”

“Toya, please.”

He turns back to you. “No. Sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but you don’t get to participate in this dance.”

“What? No, Toya wait–”

An arm circles your waist before you can get another word out, and all of a sudden, you’re being carried away at breakneck speeds. 

Your screams are lost to the wind. 

An explosion in the distance. Red taints the sky and fills your vision. 

You have never felt so helpless.  

The next time you see Toya—the little that is left of him—is at the end of it all. He is confined. Half-alive. Burnt beyond recognition. It is like he is dying all over again. 

“I should hate you.”

You sit at his bedside, speaking your turn after his family just left. 

Toya is… tired. You can see it in his eyes—at the lack of fire. The passionate, ambitious boy you once knew is truly and utterly gone. 

But some of his kindness has returned. Or perhaps he has just accepted his fate, which is all the more heartbreaking. 

“You’ve done… terrible things. Hurt so many people,” you pause, considering your next words. Three tiny things lodged in your throat, struggling to be set free into the world. “You hurt me.”

He doesn’t look at you. You’re not sure if that’s any worse than his silence. 

“I didn’t think you would ever hurt me,” you whisper. 

Silence drags on for what feels like the longest minute of your life. He still has not turned his head. Still has not acknowledged you. Your heart sinks. Maybe this really is it. Maybe there’s no affection left—all of it burned up with the last of his lingering sentiments. 

You stand up, turning your back to him, ready to leave. For good. 

“I didn’t think I would either,” Toya murmurs. 

His soft voice breaks the silence—and it is overwhelming. 

You haven't turned around to face him yet. 

“In another life, would you have stayed?” 

“I…” he swallows, voice rasping. “I don’t want to leave this life. Don’t want to leave you behind… not again.”

Tears are streaming down your face. You don’t care; you sit back down right next to him, where you rightly belong. The ache in your chest is so heavy you think it might pull you to the ground and bury you below its surface to try and muffle your misery. You almost wish it did. 

Despite the pain, you muster out your next question. 

“You think we could be happy?” You take Toya’s wounded hand in yours and gently squeeze, careful not to hurt him. 

To your relief, he doesn’t let go. In fact, he squeezes back. It’s faint but the action is felt. “Yeah. Yeah, I think we could.”

And if another life exists, you are. 

Undoubtedly so. 

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 5) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 5

You end up on a rooftop, you and Tenko and Kurogiri. Tenko has a pair of binoculars, and he lets you look through them before you have a chance to ask what he’s looking for. “We’re in Hosu,” he says. “The current location of the Hero Killer.”

“Are you going to fight him?”

“I’m doing what you said.”

You can’t remember what you said, except for your stupid joke. “Making him unfuckable?”

Tenko snickers, and somewhere behind you, Kurogiri does the same – which is extra weird. “No. Putting us back in the headlines.”

“Oh.” You don’t like this. “I’m not a strategist. You shouldn’t listen to me.”

“Why?” Tenko gives you a weird look. “You’re not stupid. Your ideas aren’t any worse than mine.”

“I don’t want you to get mad at me if it goes wrong,” you say. “I’ve heard you get mad at Kurogiri.”

Kurogiri chuckles. “That’s different,” he says. “Shigaraki Tomura. Tell her why it’s different.”

“Shut up,” Tenko says. He put the hand back over his face once he let go of your hand, but he’s turning red around it. Again. “Kurogiri’s not my sidekick. I don’t have to listen to him.”

“You don’t have to listen to me, either,” you say. “I don’t know anything about being – this.”

“You understand them better than I do,” Tenko says. He gestures at the expanse of Hosu before you. “What would it take to make you stop trusting heroes?”

You already don’t trust heroes very much. What would it take to move people like your parents or your siblings, who live in the other Japan, to where you are? “To see them choose wrong.”

Tenko gives you a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“Heroes can’t save everybody. They can’t be everywhere. They can’t be there all the time. But nobody ever thinks that the heroes won’t choose to save them,” you explain. “If you wanted to shake things up, you’d have to make it so the heroes choose wrong. For everybody to see.”

Tenko’s eyes light up, and the smile on his face this time looks less like your friend’s and more like the villain he’s become. “Then we’re in the right place,” he says. “This city is crawling with heroes looking for Stain. Let’s put them in a bind. Kurogiri, bring the Nomu. All of them.”

“Nomu?” you squeak, even as multiple portals open around you. “You have more than one?”

“We have lots. Sensei only gave me three.” Tenko gestures proudly at the monsters emerging from the portals. Everything about them looks like they’ve been put together wrong, from their staring eyes to their featureless faces to their pasty skin that smells like rot. The news reports about the attack on UA were clear about one thing – the Nomu that faced off against All Might was fast and extremely strong. “What do you think?”

One passes close to you and you cringe away, closer to Tenko. “They’re awful.”

“Exactly,” Tenko says. He stares down at the city, an expression on his face that’s somehow grim and vicious at once. “Let’s see what the rest of them think.”

The Nomus crawl down the sides of the building and vanish into the city. Tenko hasn’t given them orders, and neither has Kurogiri. You have questions – a lot of questions – but you’re not sure what it’s safe to ask. You’re Tenko’s sidekick, but that doesn’t mean his plans are yours to comment on. It feels weird to keep quiet, too. You and Tenko used to get in trouble for talking in class because you never ran out of things to talk about.

“You don’t look weird.”

You cough. “What?”

“You don’t look weird,” Tenko says again. You look at him, surprised, and find him looking straight ahead, peering through the binoculars. “I should have let you fix my shoulder the rest of the way.”

“What did you end up doing with it?” You reach over and part the cut fabric on his shoulder, wincing as you get a look at the bandaging job. “Next time, just let me finish.”

“Can you fix the rest of it?”

“I can’t do more stitches when it’s been open this long,” you say. Tenko grimaces but doesn’t swear at you. “There’s a chance it’ll get infected. If it does –”

“I’ll send Kurogiri to find you.”

“Tell him to give me a heads-up instead of just snatching me. I might need to grab antibiotics and I don’t want to make two trips.”

Tenko nods like this makes sense, which it does, except for the context. You’re standing here on the roof of a building in a city that’s already facing one villainous threat, while your childhood best friend turned aspiring supervillain has just released another – on your advice, no less. You try to rationalize it. Hosu is crawling with heroes, like Tenko said. If they’re good heroes, they’ll divert their attention to protecting the civilians. Heroes fighting Nomus will get Tenko the headlines he wants for the League of Villains, and if nobody gets hurt aside from the heroes who signed up for the job –

You need to be careful with that line of thinking. With that line of thinking, you could excuse what happened to the students during the attack on UA. “Can I ask you something?” you say, and Tenko nods. “Why did you go after the students?”

“I wasn’t after them. The point was All Might.”

“But you brought all those other villains,” you say. “On the news they said that Kurogiri moved the kids all over the training facility so the villains could kill them. And –”

You’re thinking of something else you heard, from Kazuo – that Tenko tried to kill at least three students directly, and All Might’s arrival was the only thing that stopped him. “He was supposed to be there from the beginning,” Tenko says. “All Might. Dividing the students up was supposed to distract him. Split his focus so he’d be more vulnerable to Nomu.”

You don’t know what you were expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. “Those villains were weak,” Tenko continues. “The brats could deal with them on their own. It would have taken All Might two seconds. But two seconds is all we would have needed.”

“So it was – strategy.”

“Yeah.” Tenko lowers his binoculars, glances at you. “Do you believe me?”

The words leave your mouth before you can think better of them. “I’d believe you more if I could see you.”

Tenko was in the process of looking away. Now he glances back, and you can tell he’s startled, even through the fingers of the hand. You’re not sure what the hands are for. When he attacked the USJ, he was wearing multiple sets, but usually he only wears Father around you. You haven’t asked him to remove the hand before – only asked him where it was when he wasn’t wearing it, and when you think it over, you can’t see any commonalities between the times when it’s off and the times when it’s on. Maybe it’s the kind of thing you can ask about now that you’re Tenko’s sidekick again.

Tenko grips the binoculars one-handed, reaching up to remove the hand with the other. “The brats weren’t the real target,” he says.

“But you still tried to kill three of them.”

“Yeah,” Tenko says, like it doesn’t matter, without care – and without malice. “They were right there, and I thought All Might wasn’t coming. Everybody had to see how he failed again.”

Again? You’re not the biggest All Might fan, but you don’t remember hearing about All Might failing to save children who were being held hostage. In fact, when All Might has to prioritize, he saves children first. Tenko is watching you now. “Do you believe me?”

“I believe you,” you say, and you see his shoulders relax. “You’re not a very good liar.”

He never was. When you were trying to get away with things as children, you did the talking. Tenko’s job was to stay quiet and not make eye contact with whichever adult was questioning the two of you. No matter how desperate he was not to get caught, a few seconds of eye contact was enough to break him. In the present, Tenko smiles slightly. “Lucky I’ve got you.”

You like seeing him smile, and you’ve seen it twice tonight. The knot in your chest relaxes, only to tighten again as a chorus of screams rise from the city below. Tenko lifts his binoculars eagerly and you twist your hands together, trying to contain your unease. You have your best friend. He wants you with him – his sidekick, just like you used to be. You still know how to make him smile. And he’s a villain, the kind of villain who, when his plan to kill All Might looked like it wouldn’t pan out, decided to kill three children instead. What are you doing here?

More screams from below. You wonder how many civilians are being hurt, how many heroes are protecting them versus chasing Stain. You know there’s a free clinic branch in Hosu, one that’s open overnight just like yours is. They’ll be busy tonight. At least you won’t have to worry about them treating injured villains as well as civilians.

Or will they? What are the Nomus, exactly? Where did they come from? Is that the kind of question you’re allowed to ask Tenko now that you’re friends again? “Um,” you start, but he doesn’t look at you, just keeps peering through the binoculars. Sometimes he focuses so hard it’s like his ears stop working. You remember that from when you were kids. “Tenko?”

He still doesn’t answer. You reach out, touch his shoulder, and he startles so badly that he drops the binoculars. If he grabs them with all five fingers, they’ll disintegrate. You catch them for him, since it’s your fault, and pass them back once he’s ready. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s – fine.” Tenko’s shoulder is tense beneath your hand. You’re still touching him, and you shouldn’t be. You pull your hand back. “What is it?”

“The Nomu,” you say hesitantly. “What are they?”

It’s quiet for a second. “Shigaraki Tomura,” Kurogiri warns. “You should not –”

“She won’t tell,” Tenko says without looking at him. He hasn’t put the hand back over his face. “They’re – I guess you could call them zombies. They’re made from bodies. Usually two or three bodies, and three or four quirk factors. It’s usually the same quirk factors. Shock absorption, regeneration, speed. I don’t care if you touch me.”

You’re too busy trying to wrap your head around the fact that somebody’s figured out how to raise the dead to catch the last thing. It takes you a second to get to it, and even then, you have to ask a clarifying question. “You don’t care? Or you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind.”

Something is wrong with you. Something is really wrong with you that you’re more interested in why Tenko doesn’t mind if you touch him than in the fact that Tenko has multiple zombies at his disposal to turn loose on unsuspecting heroes and civilians. You try to focus. “Where do the bodies come from?”

“I don’t know,” Tenko says. He’s frowning slightly. A moment later, he puts the hand back on his face – but before you can decide if it’s because he’s mad at you, he hands you the binoculars. “Look.”

You look through them. You’re looking in the wrong spot, and after a few seconds of trying to give you directions, Tenko gives up and just covers your hands with his, moving you in the right direction. His index fingers are lifted, protecting you from his quirk. You see what he wanted you to look at quickly enough – heroes facing off against the Nomus. Endeavor facing off against the Nomus. It looks like the heroes chose right.

You can’t deny that it’s a relief. The civilians will always be your priority, and even if almost everyone has a quirk, most of those quirks are useless when it comes to defending against zombies with multiple quirks, and they’re banned from using them anyway. But you have the sense that Tenko’s not pleased, and when you look at him, you see him scowling behind the hand. “They’re making it look too easy,” he complains.

“These Nomu were not as strong as the Nomu from USJ,” Kurogiri says. “You were made aware, Shigaraki Tomura.”

“These heroes aren’t as strong as All Might,” Tenko snaps in response. “Master set me up – again –”

You spot something through the binoculars. Something Tenko needs to see. You push them back into his hands. “Look at that.”

Tenko’s still scowling, but he lifts the binoculars to peer through them. A second later he startles. Even without the binoculars, you can see a dark shape in distant flight over the city, something clutched in its claws. You don’t know who the Nomu grabbed, or where it’s taking them, but Tenko can’t fail to be pleased with that. Can he?

He can. A moment later he swears. “Fucking Hero Killer –”

Your heart sinks. “What happened?”

“He killed it. To save some hero brat.” Tenko’s binoculars are crumbling in his hand. You wonder if he even notices. “Fucking Hero Killer. Fuck!”

You’re pretty sure that’s not the end of the story. The Hero Killer saved a hero, after claiming that there’s only one true hero, and it’s All Might? You slide your phone out of your pocket, clear a bunch of notifications from your friends’ group chat, and navigate to Twitter. Somebody’s got to be reporting on this live, and sure enough, you find “Hero Killer” trending, plus a livestream of Stain’s arrest. He’s getting arrested, and with at least twenty murders under his belt, there’s no way he’s getting out of Tartarus in this lifetime. You touch Tenko’s shoulder again – after all, he said it was fine – and speak quietly. “Hey.”

“What?”

He won’t look at you. “Look at this,” you say instead, holding out your phone. “The heroes got him.”

“So?”

“So that’s it for him,” you say. “He’s going to prison for the rest of his life. All Might’s definitely not going to fuck him now.”

It’s quiet for a second, aside from a wheeze emanating from somewhere behind the two of you. It’s still weird to hear Kurogiri laugh. You don’t even know if he has lungs. Beside you, Tenko’s doing everything in his power to hang onto his scowl, and it’s not working very well. “Is that the only joke you know?”

You feel a surge of relief. “I’ll stop using it when you stop laughing at it.”

You hear the sound of helicopter blades in the distance, growing closer. Tenko can hear it, too. “Kurogiri, let’s go. We’re done here.”

You barely have a second to wonder where you’re headed before the black mist wells up, and you’re not entirely surprised to find yourself back in the bar. Kurogiri’s behind it already. Tenko’s sitting at it, the chair next to his kicked outwards. As you watch, Kurogiri sets two glasses down and lifts an unopened bottle of champagne. He opens it, pouring first Tenko’s glass, then the glass in front of the empty chair.

Tenko glances over his shoulder, spots you, and gestures impatiently at the chair. You sit down next to him and study the glass of champagne. Tenko’s already chugging his, but he stops halfway and glances at you. “Why aren’t you drinking it?”

You could lie, but you don’t want to. “I watched him pour it, and I don’t think you’d drug me. But I still have to be careful.”

Tenko doesn’t look offended. Instead he swaps glasses with you, and Kurogiri makes a discontented noise. “She doesn’t want to drink your backwash, Tomura. Even if you did brush your teeth before we left.”

“Shut up,” Tenko snaps at him. He’s turning red again. You look down into your new glass, trying not to laugh. “I brush my teeth all the time. You’re not special.”

That one gets you. You start laughing, and Kurogiri makes that weird wheezing sound. You’re starting to realize that unlike the villain you met earlier today, who was all over the place, Kurogiri’s got two distinct aspects – one that’s more formal, more severe, and another that’s significantly more relaxed. The second one sounds younger, too, and the impression only grows stronger when Kurogiri speaks again. “If you drink someone else’s backwash, it’s like making out with them indirectly.”

“No it isn’t! I didn’t ask you!”

Tenko is bright red and sputtering, and Kurogiri’s yellow eyes are crinkling, almost the way a person’s would. It occurs to you what this aspect of Kurogiri reminds you of – a sibling. You teased your younger siblings the exact same way, when you could get away with it. Well aware that you’re making some kind of statement about the whole thing, you pick up the glass that used to be Tenko’s and take a small sip. It doesn’t taste like anything but champagne.

When you look up, you find Tenko and Kurogiri watching you. Staring, more accurately – Tenko’s jaw is dropped. You will your face not to flush. “Thanks for switching with me. As long as you don’t pass out in the next half an hour, we’re good to go.”

“So you have to stay at least that long.”

He doesn’t want you to leave. You take another sip of champagne, giving yourself time to get under control. You don’t want Tenko to know how pleased you are with the thought, or how ambivalent you are at being pleased by it. “I guess I do.”

You stay for another hour and a half, reading over the news coverage of the Nomu attack and the Hero Killer’s capture until you can barely keep your eyes open. But you have an early morning, and even though Tenko complains that you have to go and makes fun of you for agreeing to take Yoshimi to her appointment, he doesn’t suggest that you back out of it. As Kurogiri is determining where to set a warp gate to send you back to Yokohama, you ask him why not.

Tenko gives you a weird look. “I know you,” he says. “That’s not who you are.”

He’s right. It isn’t. And as much as you’re pleased by the thought that your best friend still knows you after all these years, the disquiet lurking underneath it follows you home, curls up on your chest as you try to fall asleep. You’re not the kind of person who’d turn your back on a friend, or go back on your word once you’ve given it. But apparently you’re the kind of person who watches a villain turn monsters loose on innocent people and does absolutely nothing to stop him.

You might have made your choice already. You might have stepped over the line. But you have a bad feeling that you’ll be looking back over your shoulder at it until it’s vanished over the horizon, knowing you made the wrong call and knowing deep in your bones that there’s nothing else you could have done.

You’ve done basically nothing, but you still get the sense that you’re leading a double life. You comfort yourself with the thought that even if you went to the police, you’d have nothing useful to tell them. You don’t know where Tenko’s hideout is. You don’t know anything about who makes the Nomus or where they’re hidden. You don’t know anything about Kurogiri except that it seems like there are two personalities in there, and what Kazuo said about his quirk not being natural. You’re still not sure what Kazuo meant by that. Just like you’re not sure who Tenko’s master is.

The things you know would be absolutely useless to them. You know that Tenko recovered from his USJ injuries only to get immediately slashed up by Stain. You know Tenko likes champagne but can’t hold his liquor for shit. You know he’s smart and strategic, a lot more than the news gives him credit for, which is bad for them and probably also bad for you. You know he likes video games more than he did when he was a kid, but he likes you just as much as he did back then. You like him just as much, too. Probably too much.

You haven’t seen him again since that night in Hosu. You know he’ll send Kurogiri to find you if he needs you, and the fact that he doesn’t need you means he’s not getting hurt. But you’re watchful anyway. No matter where you’re walking, day or night, you find yourself keeping a close eye the shadows, watching from your peripheral vision in case one of them hides a warp gate. Or better yet, hides Tenko.

“Hypervigilance,” Kazuo remarks when he catches you at it, one partly cloudy day in early June. “A hallmark of traumatic stress. You could benefit from counseling.”

“It’s not wrong to be wary,” you say. “Things are more dangerous than they used to be. Don’t you feel it?”

“Another hallmark of PTSD. Persistent, negative cognitions about yourself, others, or the world, exemplified by statements like The world is more dangerous than it used to be.” Kazuo can be a real asshole sometimes. “But you’re correct. Crime rates have steadily increased as All Might’s taken a step back from the public eye.”

“You really think it’s All Might?” You glance sideways at Kazuo. “Not the League of Villains?”

“The League of Villains is a symptom,” Kazuo says. The two of you got to the park early; the rest of your friends are running late for your meetup. “I looked into the backgrounds of those who were captured in the attack on USJ. For the most part, I found petty crime – thievery, fleeing from the police, physical violence committed in the course of fleeing a crime scene or an altercation with heroes.”

That tracks with the kind of villains you run into at work. Most of them have done next to nothing to earn the title. “Looking back further,” Kazuo continues, “I found poverty, substance abuse, quirk-based discrimination, childhood trauma. There were some among the criminals at USJ who sought violence specifically and consistently from an early age, but for the majority of them, it was far from inevitable that they would become criminals. It could have been otherwise.”

Thinking about what’s going on with Tenko, you’ve gotten in the habit of playing devil’s advocate. “And that’s on All Might? One hero can’t fix poverty, or childhood trauma –”

“No, they cannot. But the presence of heroes gives everyone else an excuse not to try to fix anything,” Kazuo says. He gives you a look. “There will always be some villains. The existence of enough villains to allow your friend to form a League of them means that society is failing.”

“You’re not wrong,” you say. Usually when you admit that Kazuo’s right, he moves on, but this time he keeps looking at you. “What?”

“At least try to deny it,” Kazuo says, and you know what he’s talking about. “One day I won’t be the one asking.”

You know he’s right, but as much as Tenko occupies your thoughts, you don’t have much time to dwell on him on a daily basis. Yoshimi’s sick, cancer in her lymphatic system, and with her family out of the picture and her shitty boyfriend dumping her the second he found out, you and your friends are on overdrive trying to support her. Since you’re the only one who works in the field, a lot of the daily stuff is falling on you. You’ve been taking some shifts at the central clinic so you can check in on her while she’s there for treatments, and since the high school students are all studying for their medical assistant exams, you’ve been grabbing fill-in night shifts at your regular clinic at the same time. You’re getting four hours of sleep a night, if that.

You’re exhausted. So exhausted that, when the shadows in the corner of your vision turn out to be mist as you’re walking home from the park, you keep walking straight into Kurogiri’s warp gate without a second thought.

When you arrive in the bar, Kurogiri seems surprised to see you. “I thought you might run.”

“I’m too tired to run,” you say. “Does he need me?”

Kurogiri nods, as much as a person with mist for a head can nod. “Follow me.”

You balk when you realize where you’re headed. “He doesn’t want me in there.”

“He asked me to bring you there specifically,” Kurogiri says. “Don’t worry. He’s cleaned.”

“Oh.”

The door to Tenko’s room is open, but Kurogiri knocks anyway. “Shigaraki Tomura, the girl –”

“You’re here.” Tenko appears suddenly in the doorway, the hand clamped over his face. “That was fast. You didn’t run away?”

“What kind of sidekick runs when their boss calls?” You look Tenko over. “Kurogiri said you needed me. Are you hurt?”

“My shoulder’s a mess,” Tenko says, unconcerned. “I needed to talk to you. Come in.”

He takes a few steps back, leaving room for you to step through the door. The memory of how Tenko reacted last time is still fresh in your head, and based on Tenko’s expression, he can tell. “I cleaned it,” he says impatiently. “Come in.”

In spite of the fact that your best friends have usually been boys, you haven’t spent a lot of time in boys’ rooms. The ones you have been in aren’t exactly standard. Kazuo’s room looked like an interior design magazine spread even before his mind snapped, so minimalist it was hard to imagine anyone actually living there. Sho’s room looks more like a girl’s room than yours does. Tenko’s room back when you were kids just looked like a kid’s room. Like how you would have wanted your room to look if you weren’t already sharing it with two siblings.

Tenko’s room, compared to the last time you saw it, is no longer filthy. You can see the floor, at least, and some rearranging has occurred. The desk and monitor setup has been shifted unceremoniously into one corner of the room, and on the wall where it previously sat is a flatscreen TV. You can see that it’s hooked up to a router, as well as a cable or smart TV box, and there are a few consoles and controllers strewn around nearby. Across the room from the TV is a coffee table. And behind that, a bed.

You gesture at it. “Was this here before?”

Tenko doesn’t answer. “Kurogiri, go,” he orders, and you glance over your shoulder just in time to see Kurogiri vanish from the doorway. “Sit down.”

You sit down on one end of the bed and Tenko sits on the other. He slides a collection of games across the coffee table to you. “I like all of these. You can pick which one we play first.”

“I’m not good at games.”

“I’ll teach you what you need to know,” Tenko says. He pushes the games at you again. “Pick.”

You start sorting through the games, searching in vain for any title you know while you try to shift the subject back into reasonable territory. “You said something was wrong with your shoulder. Can I look at it?”

“It’s not that bad.”

“You said it was a mess,” you point out. “Let me see.”

“Pick a game and then you can see it.”

You see exactly one title you know – Call of Duty. You hold it up and Tenko frowns. “We can play that one for a bit. In co-op mode. But after that –”

“Show me your arm.”

Tenko scowls, but he moves from the other end of the bed until he’s within reach. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt, oversized to the point where you can draw the neckline aside and reveal the wound. It’s clear that the stitches have been disturbed. The wound site is red and angry-looking and you can see scratches around it. There should be a scab on the part that Tenko wouldn’t let you stitch, but it’s clearly been peeled away. It’s either infected already or about to be, and either way, the healing process is going slower than it should be. A surge of frustration sweeps over you.

You look up at Tenko and find him watching you, unrepentant. “What?”

“You were scratching this.”

“It itched,” Tenko says. He gives you a weird look. “You never said not to.”

“I didn’t think I had to say not to scratch your open wounds.” Your frustration seeps into your tone. “You should have sent Kurogiri to get me as soon as the swelling started.”

“I tried. You’re always busy.” Tenko’s voice takes on the quality of a sneer. “Kurogiri’s been watching you for three days. You’re at that other clinic with that girl all the time.”

He didn’t use to be like this. He didn’t use to be jealous. “She has cancer. She needs someone –”

“She has other friends and doctors and parents and some loser boyfriend somewhere,” Tenko says. You start to argue that Yoshimi doesn’t have a boyfriend, courtesy of said boyfriend being a loser, but Tenko cuts you off. “She has lots of people. I only have you.”

He has Kurogiri, his master, the doctor, the Nomu – or does he? Shigaraki Tomura has those people. Tenko only has you. You peel your eyes from the angry mess Tenko’s wound has become and look up at him. “If I had known you needed me, I’d have found a way to be here. You’re my best friend.”

“I know. I –” Tenko breaks off, frustrated. “I didn’t mess with it so you’d come back.”

“I didn’t think that,” you say. “I know you scratch sometimes. It seems like less than before.”

“Only when you’re here.” Tenko shifts in his seat. You’re about to tell him he shouldn’t worry about that when he speaks again. “I feel different when you’re here. Can you fix it?”

“I’ll need to take the stitches out and clean it before I bandage it up again, but yes.” You look around for the medical supplies and Tenko pries open a drawer full of them. “Then we can play the game.”

“I can’t believe you like Call of Duty.”

“It’s just the only one I recognize,” you admit, and Tenko laughs. You like hearing him laugh. “Get ready to lose all respect for me. You might want a better sidekick.”

“I don’t need a better sidekick,” Tenko says. “I’m good enough for both of us.”

Warmth floods through you, pooling in your cheeks and your chest and the pit of your stomach. He remembers. You pull on a pair of gloves and open the suture kit. The sooner you rebandage his wound, the sooner you can play a game with your best friend for the first time since you were kids.

But after you’ve taken out the stitches, as you’re bandaging his shoulder, you notice something. The other times you’ve seen Tenko and treated his wounds, he’s been wearing long sleeves, and when you’ve cut them to get a look at the injuries, you haven’t paid much attention to whatever else might be underneath them. Now, with his arms exposed by design, you can see things you didn’t before. Tenko’s always scratched. After fifteen years of scratching he’d naturally have scars. But when the two of you were kids, you never saw him scratch his forearms. And you’ve never seen scratches look so uniform, so evenly spaced. You’ve seen things that look like that before. They weren’t scratches.

You look up and find Tenko looking at you already. “Sensei had me do them. So I’d be stronger,” he says. Your heart seizes in your chest. “Not in a while, though. When I got strong enough he let me stop.”

“That’s messed up.” You’ve been careful not to speak against Tenko’s master, not when you know so little about him, but you can’t hold back this time. “Hurting yourself doesn’t make you stronger. It just makes you hurt.”

“What would you know about it?”

“Lots. I see it every day.”

Tenko gives you a look that tells you just how little he thinks of whatever you’ve seen, and you lose patience. You let go of his arm and pull up the sleeve of your own short-sleeve shirt. “I don’t mean at work.”

Tenko’s jaw drops behind the hand. “Who made you do that?”

“Nobody made me. I did it myself, which makes me a lot dumber than you,” you say. Tenko’s lines are even. Yours are jagged, because you were angry or crying or hurrying to finish up before one of your siblings needed the bathroom or your mom came back to keep arguing with you. “Was your master trying to make you stronger? Or was he trying to teach you not to show when something hurts?”

Based on the way Tenko’s red eyes flash, you know you’ve hit the nail on the head. “What were you trying to do, then? When you were being dumber than me?”

You were being really dumb. So dumb that it’s embarrassing to talk about. “It’s a reset, biologically. Injuries force the body to release endorphins, which make you feel better for a little bit. There was a while where I had trouble controlling my temper. It helped me do that. Or at least not show it.”

“A while,” Tenko repeats. “You should have had trouble the entire fucking time.”

“I did,” you admit after a second. “You used to tell me it wasn’t okay, what my family was like. It took a while to believe you.”

Half the reason you didn’t believe Tenko was because you knew his family was messed up, too. No matter what else your dad did, he didn’t scream at you or lock you outside without dinner. But as you got older, you realized why your parents didn’t do that: They needed you too much. They needed your help with the extra kids they shouldn’t have had, and the older you got, the more it started to infuriate you.

You saw evidence of it everywhere, in places it was and places it wasn’t. They didn’t wipe your memory because they cared that you were upset about your missing friend, they did it because they needed you to be quiet and helpful instead of sad. They didn’t let you choose your favorite snack or go to a birthday party once in a blue moon because it was the fair thing to do, they did it so you wouldn’t complain about all the times you weren’t allowed to. They promised they’d make it up to you every time they shorted you in favor of your siblings with quirks, hoping the apology would make you forget. By the time you were fourteen, you weren’t forgetting anymore.

Tenko’s watching you from behind the hand, but you don’t want to be watched right now. You focus on placing the bandage. Maybe if you do that, you can pretend this isn’t happening. “What happened?” Tenko asks. “With your family.”

“Nothing,” you say. Nothing like what happened to his. “They’re out there. They call me on my birthday. Every so often they ask me for money. Do you really want to talk about this?”

Tenko doesn’t follow up. On that, at least. Three of his fingers brush across your exposed upper arm and it takes every ounce of self-control you have not to jump out of your skin. “These are old, right?”

“Not as old as yours,” you say. “They aren’t recent, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I stopped, so you should, too.” Tenko’s palm covers your upper arm for a moment, then lifts away. “It wouldn’t kill you to control your temper less, anyway. When was the last time you got really mad?”

“Three days ago. Yoshimi’s boyfriend ditched her, so I called him and lit his ass up.”

“Sure you did. I bet you never raised your voice,” Tenko says. You look up, offended. “You probably sounded like some kind of evil shrink, telling him what a piece of shit he is and how you understand that he can’t help being an asshole but it would probably be best for everybody if he took a long walk off a short ledge –”

He’s mimicking the soft, semi-conciliatory tone you use when you’re trying to de-escalate a situation, looking at you from behind the hand with a smirk on his face. You’d get mad, except it’s a pretty accurate imitation, and you like the thought that he knows you well enough to pick on you like this. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about getting really mad. Really losing control. When’s the last time you did that?”

You can’t remember. You shrug helplessly. Tenko heaves an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a good thing we’re playing Call of Duty next. If getting your ass kicked in a video game can’t wind you up, nothing will.”

It’s been a while since you played an actual video game. You were bad at it then, and you’re really bad at it now. Tenko makes you play a round in single-player mode to see what you’re good at and where you’re weak, and he spends the entire time laughing so hard that you’re worried he’s going to dislocate a rib or fall off the couch. It takes you way too long to hide away from the enemies onscreen long enough to ask Tenko a question. “What’s so funny? I know I’m not doing it right –”

“You’re just –” Tenko wheezes, then makes an effort to get it together. “Up here in the corner of your display is the map. The dot is where you are. And then everything in front of you is your point of view. That’s why it’s called a first-person shooter.”

“I know,” you say. “The display –”

“You control that on this side of the controller. And that’s where your trigger is, too. The other side handles motion,” Tenko says. His shoulders are twitching, like they do when he’s trying to hold in his laughter. “I’ll watch the map for you. Just go where I tell you to go.”

“Okay.” You adjust your grip on the controller and prepare to be humiliated.

Tenko directs you to move straight forward, which you do. Then you make a left turn and jump up on a crate for a better firing angle, at which point someone shoots at you. “Shoot back,” Tenko orders. You press the trigger. “Nice work. Okay, now jump off the crate and –”

You jump off the crate as requested, but then you get your buttons jumbled, and instead of running in the direction Tenko told you to run, you find yourself bumping into the wall repeatedly with your viewpoint stuck directly upwards. “Tenko –”

Tenko is howling with laughter again. The hand dislodges and falls off his face, and you see his eyes crinkling at the corners, his smile just a little too big. Some girls in your class said his smile was creepy, but you always liked it. You liked that you always knew which of his smiles were faked and which weren’t. “I’m stuck,” you say, and he laughs even harder. “What did I do?”

“If you were doing what your character is doing right now, you’d be doing this.” Tenko mimics pointing a gun straight up at the sky, and suddenly you get why he’s laughing. “You’ve been running around like this –”

No wonder you keep running into walls. Now you’re laughing, too. “You weren’t kidding,” Tenko says, shaking his head. “You really are terrible at it.”

You set the controller aside and wipe your eyes. “You sure you don’t want a different sidekick?”

“I have the sidekick I want.” Tenko glances at you, almost shyly. “We’ll need allies, though. I want you to meet them.”

Your stomach lurches. “Do you have them already?”

“One of the brokers is bringing them. He finds them through the black market.” Tenko sets the controller back down in your hands, adjusting your fingers to the right buttons. Then he unpauses the game. “Once I have them all – go right. No, your other right. Once I have them all, I want you to meet them. I need them to work together, and to stay calm instead of fighting each other. You’re good at getting people to do that. Watch out, there are – nice work.”

He’s giving you a strange look. “What?” you ask. “I didn’t get killed yet.”

“You’re better at shooting people than running around. That’s weird.” Tenko’s expression stays odd for another moment; then he grins. “Works for me, though. As long as you don’t mess with your viewpoint too much, we can play together.”

“Works for me.” You’re still going to be pretty useless, but at least you can protect Tenko’s back. That’s more than you’d be able to do in a real fight. The thought kicks off a flood of anxiety, and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself speaking out loud. “Tenko –”

He pauses the game mid-switch to co-op mode. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know if I can help you the way you need me to,” you say. He gives you a skeptical look. “Medical stuff is one thing. I’m good at that. If your allies need help with that, I’ll help them, too. But the rest of it, I’m not – planning, getting people to follow you –”

“I can do that part. But villains fight all the time. Like kids do,” Tenko says. He smiles slightly. “If you can handle me, they’ll be easy for you.”

“But I know you,” you say. “It’s different.”

“So you’ll get to know them, too.” Tenko’s confident, just like you remember him being. Once he’s decided how something will be, it’s hard to shake him. “Come on. Let’s clear this level.”

It’s an easy level, or you think it’s supposed to be. You spend most of your time running backwards, keeping one eye on the map so you don’t lose track of Tenko and the other eye out for enemies of any kind. On reflection, you do think your accuracy with shooting is a little weird. Between this level and the next one, you rack up a decent number of kills. “You’re already getting better,” Tenko says, grinning. “I bet we can beat this thing if we keep playing.”

“I’d like that,” you say – but you’re still thinking about Tenko’s semi-crazy idea that you meet a bunch of villains for crowd control. “About the allies – you trust me, but they won’t have any reason to. I’m still a civilian.”

“You’ll need a disguise,” Tenko says, which wasn’t what you were hoping he’d say. “Something that hides your face. “If any of them have a problem with you, they can take it up with me.”

You don’t know what to say to that. The idea of Tenko getting into it with other villains over you makes you feel sick. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I don’t want you to get hurt at all. You’re my best friend.”

“I’m not your boss,” Tenko says, which doesn’t make any sense. Your confusion must show on your face, because Tenko elaborates. “Earlier. You said sidekicks don’t run from their bosses, but I’m not your boss. I don’t want to be your boss. I want –”

He breaks off, clearly struggling with what to say. There’s a patchy flush coming up in his cheeks, and you see his hand rise, twitch toward his neck – then fall back. “I don’t want to be your boss,” he says again, looking everywhere but into your eyes. “I want – you should –”

“Shigaraki Tomura.” Kurogiri’s voice issues from behind you, and you and Tenko both jump. “Your master wishes to speak with you. You are overdue.”

“Shit,” Tenko mutters. His grip on the controller tightens, and you lift it out of his hands before all five fingers can touch it. “Where’s – I need –”

“Here.” You pick up the hand from the floor and pass it to him, feeling a chill go down your spine as you touch it. “Go talk to him. It’s okay.”

“I’m late. It isn’t.” Tenko settles the hand back over his face. His free hand rises again, clawing at the side of his neck, and something about the image, the situation, feels uncomfortably familiar to you. “I’ll send Kurogiri to get you again soon. For another date.”

“This was a date?”

“Of course it was.” Tenko gets up, heads for the door. “Remember. Find a disguise. I’ll see you soon.”

He’s gone, and a second later, so are you – Kurogiri drops you in an alley off the street you were walking on. He lingers for a moment, and the question explodes out of you. “It was a date?”

“I told him it’s not a date unless both people know it’s a date.” Kurogiri looks vaguely uncomfortable, and his voice is in the other register – the one that sounds more like an older brother than a servant. “Next time I’ll tell him I can’t find you.”

“Don’t do that,” you say at once. Even reeling like you are now, you’re sure that you want to see Tenko again. “Just – warn me, if you can. If it’s a date or something else.”

“I can do that.” Kurogiri vanishes, but his voice lingers for a moment more. “You protect him, too.”

What does that mean? Maybe it means that Kurogiri sees you like he sees himself – a protector of Shigaraki Tomura, although if there’s anyone you’re trying to protect, it’s Shimura Tenko, your best friend. Your best friend, who’s in a lot more trouble than you thought he was.

You’re standing in the middle of an alley. You need to get moving before someone peeks in here and starts asking questions. You slide your phone out of your pocket, raise it to your ear, and lower it as you step back out into the flow of traffic on the sidewalk, like you were taking a call that just ended. Your apartment’s not far away, so you’ll get there, and then you can think about all of this. The villains – the date – the scars on Tenko’s arm that look too much like yours – the scratching that didn’t start until after the hand covered his face. The hand he calls Father.

And that’s when you realize what it reminded you of, what happened when Kurogiri told Tenko his master was waiting for him. He was himself when you spoke to him, even after he put the hand back over his face – right down to how he reacted when his master called for him. Because his reaction looked the same as his reaction to his father calling for him when the two of you were kids.

You had a bad feeling about Tenko’s master, and now it’s worse. You have a bad feeling about what your involvement with Tenko means now, because he wants you to back him up when it comes to dealing with other villains, to take the de-escalation and conflict resolution skills you learned the hard way and put them to use keeping a band of villains together under Tenko’s control. You have a bad feeling because Tenko’s told you to find a disguise, to hide your identity like the villain you aren’t. You aren’t a villain. Are you?

Maybe you aren’t a villain – yet, a voice in your head whispers, you aren’t a villain yet – but there’s something wrong with you. There must be. Because knowing all that, knowing that you’re getting drawn further into Tenko’s plans, doesn’t do a thing to dampen your excitement at the thought that he wants to go on dates with you. That he likes you. That your best friend, who you always thought you’d have developed a crush on if the two of you had gotten to grow up together, might feel the same about you as you do about him.

[daisies-daydreams]

Say ‘Please’ (Stain x F!Reader)

Pairing: Chizome Akaguro (Stain) x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Dom/Sub Elements, Biting, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Male Masturbation, Eye Contact, Edging, Swearing Word Count: 2.1k+

Summary: Stain decides to pamper you in his own special way.

A/N: Surprise, surprise, it’s another fic by me where the reader gets eaten out. 👅💦

Song Rec For This Fic: Streets (Doja Cat - Silhouette Remix)

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You jolted in your bed when you heard your bedroom window creak open. A dark, ominous figure crouched on the window sill, his dark, tattered clothes waving in the cold wind. You sighed as you collapsed back into your mattress.

“Chizo-I’ve told you to just use the front door,” you groaned. The figure dropped inside, making sure to slide the window closed and secure it. His red, hungry eyes flicked over to you.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t think people would take kindly to the Hero Killer waltzing into their apartment complex,” your lover stated with a grin. You purse your lips as he lumbers towards your shared bed. His heavy boots thudded against the floor as he shucked them off. You watched as he stripped himself of his outfit, his clothes falling into a large pile on the floor.

A sense of calm washed over you as Chizome slid onto the mattress, his wiry, naked body still slightly cold and damp from his recent escapade. Your eyes flew open when you felt your lover wrap his arms around your torso, pulling you flush against his chest. He smelled of rain, sweat, and blood-a musk you’ve grown accustomed to as you’re little paramour became more frequent within the past few months. Chizome inhaled deeply into your neck as he tenderly pressed his mouth to your skin. You shuddered as he rolled his large tongue over your pulse.

“Chizo,” you whined, grinding your ass on his hardening length. He grunted behind you as he wrapped his lips around your neck.

“Bet you taste so good,” he rumbled. You gasped as he tightened his grip around you, driving his cock forward with small thrusts. Both of you panted as you continued grinding on each other, heat building inside your core with each passing second. “Would you like that, sweet thing? Like my tongue tasting you…all of you?” Chizome husked. You bit your lip and wiggled in his grasp. It was so late-and yet, you couldn't deny the fire that stoked with each swipe of his tongue and thrust of his hips. He groaned before planting a sloppy kiss on your neck, then your jaw, and finally, the corner of your mouth.

“Come on, sweet thing-let me make you feel good,” he husked. His rough voice sent a shiver down your spine, a white hot arousal spreading through you from head to toe. You swallowed thickly.

“Okay,” you sighed. Chizome grinned as he turned you to lay on your back. He slid himself on top of you, his heavy cock throbbing as he rubbed it against your clothed sex. You squealed when his tongue slid across your bottom lip as he kissed you deeply. You smiled coquettishly as you parted your lips. A moan bubbled from your chest as his tongue filled and explored your mouth.

Chizome stroked and swirled his wet muscle around yours. His kisses were always heated and sloppy-especially when he was riled up from a night of action. Both of you gasped for air when you finally pulled back, a string of spit connecting your swollen lips. Your lover’s pupils were blown as he gazed at you, his hips shallowly grinding against yours once more.

“Mmm, Chizo,” you keened while gripping his bare, rugged shoulders. He emitted a low growl before ripping your nightgown to shreds with his bare hands. You gasped. “Hey!” you pouted.

“I’ll get you a new one the next time I’m out,” he muttered. He smacked his lips as he ogled your breasts. Your face flushed as he lowered his head and flicked his tongue around your areola.

“Oh,” you moaned, your fingers curling into his flesh. Chizome closed his eyes as he swirled his tongue around your breast, slobbering over the whole thing. Pleasure began to build as he licked up and down your perky nipple, your other breast being massaged by his hand. He tugged on your nipple with his teeth before releasing himself with a wet ‘pop’. You gazed down at him with hooded eyes, your bottom lip tucked beneath your teeth.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he rumbled before blowing on your coated tit. You shivered as goosebumps erupted across the slick patch of skin. Chizome gave you no respite as he switched to your other breast. You heard him inhale deeply through what remained of his nostrils, his tongue kneaded and massaging your plump flesh. Your walls clenched as he lavished your breasts with love. Your head felt dizzy as your underwear became soaked with your arousal.

“Chizo, I need you, baby,” you gasped. His head snapped up at your words. “Baby” was always a pet name that got him riled up really fast. His lips curled up as his hands trailed down to your hips, fiddling with the hem of your wet panties.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Chizome said. Your heart fluttered as he pulled your panties down your legs and tossed them aside. He trailed his lips down the valley of your breasts and over your torso. Your breathing stuttered when he paused over your mound, his eyes slowly gazing up at your blushing face. “You sure you want this, sweetheart?” he asked, his hands pushing your thighs apart. You nodded your head vigorously.

“Yes-fucking destroy me with your tongue,” you begged as you bucked your hips forward. He chuckled, his hot breath cascading over your wet lower lips.

“Such filthy words. Might have to teach you a lesson before I make you cum,” Chizome hummed. You clenched your walls as he spread your labia apart with his thick fingers. His blown pupils seemed to shroud his crimson irises as he licked his lips. “You’re so wet-and just from me playing with your tits,” he chuckled. A small squeal left you as you looked away in embarrassment. This earned you a sudden bite on your inner thigh.

“I want to see your pretty face while I’m eating you out. Keep your eyes on me, understand?” Chizome rumbled before smoothing his tongue across the red bite mark. You nodded, tears of arousal pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“That’s my good girl,” your lover praised. He kissed the top of your mound before hovering his face over your slit. A moan tore through your throat as he flattened his tongue over your whole cunt. Fuck, you never realized just how big it was.

Your fists curled into the bedsheets as Chizome drew slow, sloppy stripes up and down your slit, his thumbs still spreading your lower lips apart. Your legs trembled as he locked eyes with you, watching your face twist and writhe with pleasure. His red eyes brimmed with desire and a hunger so deep. A bolt of arousal struck through your body as you arched your back.

“Yes, that’s so good-fuck,” you whimpered. Your mouth restricted into a tight “o” when he clamped his teeth down on your throbbing clit. He flattened his tongue over your nub, the pressure indescribable. Your hands moved to grip at his wild, raven locks as he swirled the tip of his muscle around it, drawing you closer to the edge.

“Ah, Chizome,” you keened. He pulled his mouth away just as your face began to scrunch up. Your nostrils flared as you glared down at him. Chizome’s whole lower face was absolutely soaked in a lewd mixture of your slick and his spit. He licked at the corners of his mouth, grinning all the while.

“Don’t you remember? I have to teach you a lesson,” he mused. You scoffed. “Since you swore twice, I think I’ll have to edge you one more time,” Chizome stated. Your eyes widened.

“No, wait. I promise I-I won’t do it again,” you mewled desperately. He laughed as he gave you a hungry smirk.

“I don’t think so,” Chizome clicked his tongue. “Don’t worry-I’ll take it upon myself to teach you some manners...starting with saying 'please',” he rumbled. How generous of him. Your heart pounded as you waited for him to move, his eyes never leaving your line of sight. Your silent prayers were answered when he slid his hands to your inner thighs and began to gently lap at your folds. You fell back onto the mattress as he lavished your pussy with wet kitten licks.

“Ah,” you gasped out as he prodded your entrance with the tip of his muscle. He took in a deep breath through his nostrils as he teased your hole. He licked and poked around your tender entrance, yet refused to slip inside.

“C-Chizome,” you stammered. Your mind felt like it was turning to mush. He groaned into your heat, the vibrations turning into shockwaves that rocked your nervous system. With a soft sigh, Chizome finally shoved his muscle into your core.

You keened as you began to see stars sprinkle your vision, his tip reaching all the way to your cervix. You watched his eyes flicker with light as one of his hands fell away from your thigh. Your walls fluttered when he wiggled his tongue inside, your pussy squelching with each minute stroke.

“That’s it baby, yes yes yes. You make me feel so good,” you praised as you rocked your hips onto his face. You flinched when he made a hiccupping sound followed by a deep grunt. You shifted your head slightly and blushed when you saw one of his hands stroking his hardened cock, his brows knitted together as he lost himself.

A sudden, juicy thrust inside your cunt made you throw your head back into the pillow. A gentle slap streaked across your thigh, reminding you of his command. You craned your upper body to watch as he thrusted his tongue in and out of your eager, weeping hole. You felt every bump of his papillae stroke against your gummy walls. One simple stroke across your g-spot made your head spin and stomach flip. The pornographic sounds of squelching and thrusting and moaning reverberated throughout your small bedroom, surely waking up the neighbors. You whined as the cord inside of you began to twist into a tight knot.

“Chizo, I-I’m close,” you gasped out as hot tears spilled down your ecstasy-ridden face. Your lover immediately pulled his face away. You whined and pounded your fists into the mattress. You felt like you were dangling on the precipice of your release. What was a few minutes felt like hours before you finally snapped.

“Please let me cum, Chizome!” you cried out. You heard him chuckle, his mouth curved in a triumphant smirk.

“I think you’ve finally learned your lesson," Chizome remarked. You nodded your head in agreement. He groaned before enveloping his lips over your entire cunt, shoving his muscle back inside. Your brain could barely catch up at a hungry pace he set. The muscles in your lower stomach began to wind into themselves. Tighter and tighter-

“CHIZOME!” you screamed as your orgasm tore through you. Your whole body shook as you clamped down on his massive tongue. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he suddenly stiffened, your juices squirting over his face as your walls intensely contracted. You drifted through wave after wave of bliss, relishing in the warmth that bloomed throughout your body.

Your high began to fade as you swallowed thickly, tears still pouring from your eyes. You blinked a few times, your vision blurry from the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Chizome kept his tongue submerged inside of you for a little bit longer before he slowly pulled out. You shivered at the feeling of emptiness.

Sparks suddenly flew through you as he lapped at your folds, collecting your juices and guzzling it down his throat. Chizome smacked his lips and sighed before he pressed a kiss to your cunt. You jolted, causing him to chuckle. A light pink dusted his cheeks as he scooped you up into his arms.

“Where are you taking me?” you blinked, your voice slightly slurred. Chizome just continued to look forward as he made his way towards the bathroom.

“I haven’t showered in a bit. You might as well come with me… since I made such a mess of you and all,” he smirked before tenderly licking up the side of your face. Your breath hitched as he went to nibble on the shell of your ear.

This night was far from over.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[raccoonsrummagerostrum]

Chizome Akaguro x Chiropractor Reader

Chizome x GN!reader

Warning: back and joint cracking

Word count: 553

His posture is some of the worst out there. The way he perches on building tops could make hawks blush.

Really it's due to multiple bad injuries that never healed properly. But it's not like villains have health insurance.

So rather than going anywhere to get treated and risk being turned over to the cops, he just puts up with it.

But he does suffer for it. He's almost constantly in pain, and his bad posture is only making his injuries worse.

When you try to help he's skeptical at first. He will not let you talk him into going to a physical therapist. And he refuses to see you at work. But he will relent and let you work on him at home.

You have him lay down flat on the floor. As he stretches his legs out infrount of himself you both hear a loud crack from both his hips.

You give him a look before stating that his hip flexors are too tight. He rolls his eyes but lets you continue.

You pull one leg over, rolling his hips, and you haven't even put any pressure on before he's cracking like a fist full of dried pasta. Finally you twist his spine and you swear that all your neighbors heard that crack.

You let him relax and he looks mortified. You look at him and just smile while wondering how he can still walk.

After doing the other side with similar results. You flip him on his frount. Running your hands up and down his back, you finally feel the true extent of the damage. You know full well that he needs more help than you can give him. But you do what you can.

Gently but firmly you push on the muscles on either side of his spine, from the top of his pelvis to the base of his shoulder blades. And now for his neck.

Flipping him back over, you hold his head in your lap and gently run your hands over the nape of his neck. You can feel all the damage done overtime, your heart aches, but you press on.

Gently adjusting his head you find the perfect spot and twist. The sound is so loud that people down the block turn to figure out what that was.

Chizome shoots up and holds his neck. You ask if he's OK, and if you hurt him. But he assured you that he was just startled. Honestly you were surprised he even got startled after all he's been through.

He slowly leans back into your lap and you do the other side, much to the same effect. Again he shoots up holding his neck. Again he insists you didn't hurt him.

Pulling him up off the floor, you find that he's at least an inch taller. Asking how he feels, you can see the weight lifted off his shoulders. He won't get too emotional, but his pain is so much better he could almost cry. Almost.

You'll show him some stretches and exercises for him to do, and of course you'll do adjustments as needed. Over time he does feel better.

His posture is never perfect, and his body has suffered irreparable damage that even surgery couldn't fix, but he's getting better. And he loves you for it.