✿ Tomura Shigaraki X Streamer!Reader ✿

A new life for Tomura part3

Dry tears on my cheek

Emptyness in my heart

Its all dark in here,

When it was all soft and warm

The sheets smelling like you, soft like silk

Red eyes watching for one last prayer

My heart singing your name with loyalty

My head light as snow

It all vanish in a new dark room.

Mine.

In the cold bed of an empty room

Me and my momory already blur

It was just a dream.

Obsession [Shigaraki x Reader]

TW: Stalking, drugging, kidnapping, murder, Stockholm syndrome, Shigaraki being obsessive (hence the title).

Reader is gender neutral.

Originally published on Wattpad.

You hissed and screamed as the blue-haired villain snatched your wrist, forcibly dragging you out of his room. He threw you onto the floor with little effort, right in front of the entry/exit door.

"I'm done trying. I'm fucking done." He growled, "All these escape attempts, all these damn tears. If you won't love me, then go. Get out. I'll find someone better than you."

This was your chance. Your mind was sending panicked thoughts throughout your body, begging you to run, to shout for help and finally leave this hellhole. You knew that, if you just pissed him off enough, he'd give up. Once he saw you weren't going to come around...

Oh but that was the problem. You were coming around. You just refused to show it. You hid the Stockholm syndrome with a mask of bravery and hatred, refusing to comply with his demands when really, you just longed for his touch. You'd lay awake at night, trying to convince yourself that you despised him. But you just couldn't. You started to pity him. You started to empathize with him, and his morals.

You remembered those late night talks where he'd tell you about his past, rambling about how no one helped him while in his half-asleep state.

Goddammit.

You had waited so long, and now that you were finally being let go, you couldn't bear to leave your captor.

"Well?!" He snapped.

Sighing, you hugged your knees to your chest, "Great job, Shiggy. I think I have Stockholm syndrome."

The man tilted his head in confusion, "Stockholm syndro... What? What're you talking about?"

Tch. He really was delusional. Did he seriously think that this love was real? That you were just playing hard to get all this time? Jesus fucking christ.

"It means, um... You kinda start to... Feel good things about your captor, 'n shit..." You mumbled.

Shigaraki's eyes widened. Then he smiled. Then he yanked you back up from the floor, his arms encasing you in a warm, tight hug.

"Oh, baby! I knew it! I knew you'd fall for me! I just had to keep you here long enough. You were just playing hard to get, I knew I was right!" He rambled, accompanied with a manic laugh, "You're mine... Mine! No one else can have you! You belong to me, my player two. You're mine, mine, mine, all mine!"

So. How did this all happen? How did you meet such an ugly fate? Well.

It started off when Shigaraki was playing Minecraft, in a server created from a Discord server he joined. He'd been playing for quite some time. It was nice playing with other people every now and then. But then he met you.

You were a newbie in the server, seeing as you only had leather armor and wooden tools. You were nice, frequently talking to the other members in the chat. You complimented Shigaraki's skin, so, he gave you one of his iron tools.

Then you whipped out your netherite armor.

And he freaked out.

It was hilarious from your point of view, seeing Shigaraki's many keyboard smashes in the chat. You left the scene, and he chased after you, demanding you give him back his single iron sword.

He was chasing you for a good amount of time, until you eventually gave it back. But only if he gave you his Discord username. Odd... But he complied. Apparently you thought he was fun and wanted to play with him more often. Awh, that was sweet.

The two of you started talking. And talking. And talking... You soon became so close that you trusted Shigaraki enough to start sending him pictures of yourself. You were amazingly attractive. No, no, you were perfect. A cute little face, and a wonderful personality? Oh yes.

You noticed Shigaraki, or as you called him, Shiggy (that was his nickname, is if he'd tell you his real name) started texting you more often. Calling you more often. You didn't know it but he was getting attached. Obsessed, even. No one had ever shown him this amount of kindness, and he needed more. He needed your validation. The way you treated him as if he was an actual human, and not a villain, was seriously enough to get him addicted to you.

Any pictures you sent him? Automatically saved to his gallery. Audio messages? Downloaded. Face time calls? Recorded. You were like a drug that he couldn't get enough of.

The problem came when he attacked U.A. for the second time, taking Katsuki Bakugo hostage.

You'd messaged him, sympathizing with the school's loss. Unfortunately he took this personally, and wrote a long message to you about how the hero system was corrupt and Shigaraki was doing a good thing by destroying it. Of course he didn't outright tell you his identity, but it was enough to make you suspicious of him being a criminal, and you stopped talking to him.

Shigaraki was heartbroken. He couldn't go a day without talking to you. So you know what he did? He hacked into your account, and found your email. Then he hacked into your email, and found your address.

He was going to kidnap you. You'd be all his. He was sure that, with enough convincing, you'd realise that he was right about the heroes and you'd forgive him!

So right now, he was standing across the street from your house, waiting. Well, not for you. He was waiting for your boyfriend. Now he could just scoop you up and run away, leaving him to forget about you, but no... That wouldn't be satisfying at all! Shigaraki wanted to see him rot, wanted to see him decay.

He deserved it, anyway. Before the angry message, you vented to him about your boyfriend cheating on you, but you didn't have enough money to move out. And he sure as hell wasn't moving, he was the one who paid for the house.

The thought of someone cheating on such a beauty like you was enraging, Shigaraki tore away at his neck just thinking about it. So when your boyfriend finally arrived, well, he wasted no time.

Before he could even unlock the door, Shigaraki placed his hand on the man's shoulder, disintegrating him in an instant, staining the concrete with a mixture of blood and dust.

"You're much more tolerable this way," Shigaraki muttered as he stepped over the pile and touched your front door, walking inside the house once the door decayed.

He sat himself comfortably on the couch, waiting for your arrival.

So he waited, and waited, and oh my god how long were you going to take?! Shigaraki was not a patient man! He knew you had work, but, he didn't know when you finished! Urgh! This was so damn frustrating!

He was about to storm through the doorway and leave the house, until he saw someone's car pull up in the driveway. Oh, it was you.

Immediately, he sped back to the couch. The position made it so you wouldn't be able to see him upon entering.

Your screaming was heard, as Shigaraki remembered your boyfriend's decayed body. Oh, right, haha. You wouldn't be entering the house anytime soon, not when he'd clearly paid a visit to your house. So he went outside to see you hiding in your car, presumably trying to dial the authorities. Not today.

You screamed again as you saw Shigaraki jump onto the car and shove his hand against the windshield, disintegrating it as he reached inside to grab you. You tried to escape through the driver's door, but you fell right into his trap, as he got off the car and wrapped his arms around you from behind. He pricked your neck with a syringe, injecting you with some sort of drug.

And you passed out in a matter of seconds.

When you awoke, you were in a room unfamiliar to you. Both your ankles and wrists were tied to the bed, your legs sprawled out and putting you in a rather vulnerable position.

"Aha, you're awake." Said the man sitting in the corner, "Did the drug really knock you out the hard? I swear I put in a small dosage..."

A chill ran down your spine upon hearing his voice. You recognised that voice. But not from the news, no. You couldn't even find the strength to scream as the realisation hit, this villain was the man you'd been talking to on Discord. How could you have been so stupid? How did you not realise that the nickname "Shiggy" was just an abbreviation for "Shigaraki"?!

"Oh, please don't be afraid, D/U (Discord/Username). I won't hurt you... Well, unless you make me. Hehe." He crooned.

You swallowed nervously, "Wh- Why would you do this...? Why did you kidnap me?! Was it because I stopped texting you?!"

Shigaraki cackled, "Matter of fact, yeah! I love you, D/U. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you! You acted so kind towards me, haha! Big mistake, because now," He walked over to plant a kiss on your cheek, "I get such a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest when I see your messages. When you face time me. I'm in love with you, D/U~"

"I- I have a boyfriend! You know that!" You cried.

He cocked his head to the side playfully, "Not anymore! But he made you so sad, didn't he?~ Don't worry, I won't ever cheat on you. I'm loyal. Unlike him."

"What do you mean not anymore?! You didn't kill him, did you?!"

"Of course I killed him! Say... This whole time I've been calling you by your Discord user. What's your name, sweetheart? Go on, don't be shy."

You didn't want to answer. You'd always been careful about telling your real name to strangers online, but now that you were facing an infamous villain, you wanted to tell him even less.

But the sharp glare he gave you was enough to convince you otherwise.

You took in another anxious gulp of air, "L- L/n... Y/n L/n..." (Your/name Last/name)

His smile came back to his face, "Oh wow, it suits you perfectly!"

This was all... a lot to take in. You had just gotten back from work, and now suddenly you were tied to a criminal's bed. You'd been chatting to the Tomura Shigaraki all this time? Oh god. Part of you wanted to believe this was all a dream.

"S- So, you... really did kill my boyfriend...?" You asked.

Shigaraki giggled, "Yeah."

A few tears leaked from your eyes, you were somewhat glad he was gone. You despised yourself for thinking this way, but, at least you didn't have to deal with his constant affairs anymore.

"Aww, baby, don't cry. I'm sorry. Kidnapping you was kind of the only option left... Heh. You want me to untie you?"

You nodded, and Shigaraki disintegrated the ropes holding you down.

"Will I ever–"

"No." Shigaraki interrupted cheerily, knowing what you were about to ask. You'd never see your family again, which caused a few more tears to drip down your cheeks.

"Now I won't hesitate to tie you up again if you misbehave. Oh that reminds me, we have some rules to go over... Better put your listening ears on." Shigaraki said, sitting very closely beside you. "Because you're gonna be here for a long time."

It was a whole mix of emotions right now. Everything seemed to be moving so fast. You'd have to listen and see what Shigaraki's rules were before you could make up your mind about whether you felt safe, or vulnerable.

Author's Note: 1930 words and I still feel like I rushed this ._.

Goofy Xmas stuff that took WAYYY longer than it had any right to. Anyway don’t look too long at this or you’ll reveal how fucked it still is

Perspective, chapter 1 of 2.

tenko x cis female and poc friendly reader

safe for work // 4.8k words // AO3.

warnings: ...jealousy? some actions may be seen as creepy.

summary: tenko goes to art school and gets a crush on a musical theater major.

Horizon Line -- an actual or imaginary line in a work of art representing the point at which water or land seems to end and the sky begins.

×X×

Tenko had fallen asleep before the performance had even started.

He had long lost track of how long he'd been awake for. It was the end of his first semester in university and the prestigious art program he had gotten into busied him with project after project. He was running out of steam. Honestly, he had been running on fumes for weeks now.

He'd rather be in his dorm finishing his assignments instead of sitting in one of the theaters in the performing arts building. If it wasn't a requirement for Fine Arts majors to attend other Fine Arts events, he would have never have set foot in this place. The noise of the attendees filling the room and the orchestra tuning their instruments was grating his sleep deprived nerves.

He grumbled and crossed his arms as someone took the seat beside him. His leg bouncing as he grabbed the program the usher had handed to him when he first entered. Tenko's bloodshot eyes were barely able to process anything more than The Phantom of the Opera on the front of the flimsy pamphlet, before shutting it and glaring at the scarlet curtains on the stage.

A few minuets later, the lights began to dim and he sighed in relief as the room quieted. He could finally catch some much needed sleep.

He tried stretching his stiff legs in an attempt to loosen himself up and closed his eyes.

Only to open them at the sound of your voice singing to him on the stage.

"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while, please, promise me you'll try."

Tenko was mesmerized. Watching you on stage woke him up more than the energy drinks he'd been living off of all semester. He was absolutely immersed with your performance. He soaked in your every word and movement and before he knew it, two hours had gone by and the cast was being applauded as they bowed.

He sat in awe for a moment as the auditorium lights flicked on and he stood, shuffling through the crowd. He found a nice corner of the lobby behind a pillar as he and some other audience members waited. He skimmed through the program and found you. He whispered your name like a secret only he could ever know.

The cast slowly came out one by one and thanked the guests for coming. Tenko's eyes darted around impatiently. Finally, out came you in the white gown you wore in your final scene, looking like an angel that had come down to offer his sorry existence some respite.

You greeted and thanked the attendees as they praised you and handed you flowers. It was the final night of your musical and you were beaming. Tenko's fingers fidgeted at his sides as he yearned to get closer to you and experience your radiance himself.

A guest bowed and left, leaving an opening for him to approach. He took a step out from behind the pillar, but you turned at the sound of your voice coming from behind you. Tenko recognized the person as the man who played the Phantom and sighed when he saw you turn and leave the room.

When Tenko returned to his dorm, he searched your name online and found your social media. His night was spent watching your videos. He didn't realize how much time had passed until his alarm went off and he saw the sunlight peaking out from behind onyx curtains. It was time for him to get ready for class.

The semester had finished with him acing art and barely passing his core courses. It was winter break and with most students away, the campus was deserted. The thought of having no one to go home to didn't even cross his mind as he spent the break filling his sketchbooks with you.

His second semester started off much better than the first one. His art had rapidly improved from how much he'd been practicing recently.

He found a spot he liked. It was a small outdoor table nestled between some trees on the southern campus dormitory area. The weather on this side of the country wasn't as cold as other prefectures would be in January, but there was still the occasional breeze that made his dry skin prickle up with goosebumps. The rain was more likely to get him sick, although, since he was under the wide umbrella of the table, he found that unlikely and continued his sketch of you.

A week and a half later, he gulped down the last of his cold medication and slammed the container down in frustration. He leered at the harrowed reflection on the bathroom mirror. His eyes were heavy with deep bags, his skin a sickly colour, and his hair hadn't been brushed for 2 or 3 days. He let out a sigh.

×X×

He found another spot he liked, safe from the chilling late January rain. It was in the performing arts building, in a seating area by the entrance. The art program may have been the school's top program, but it's grand yet modern appearance showed that there was no skimping of funds. The grand architecture and romantic interior design was a contrast to the art building's modern and sleek appearance.  On the outside, the building designs complimented each other, with this building being a few stories shorter than the building next door that Tenko was used to. Noisier too.

Tenko had his earbuds in as he slouched on the upholstered chair, sketching, when he noticed a familiar form in the corner of his eye.

It was someone he recognized as your frequent scene partner that you seemed to be joined at the hip with, if your social media was anything to go by. Tenko felt a spark of excitement bubbling inside of him and he looked around hoping to see you, but your face was not among the crowd of students. His hope deflated to disappointment and he scratched the side of his neck. You were likely already in class.

It was ten minutes into the hour when Tenko decided to leave. He gathered his things and carried his sketchbook in his arms as he stood and walked away from the seating area.

He tripped over his feet and bumped into someone, his sketchbook flying out of his grasp.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!!"

It was you.

Your sweet voice was full of apology as you bent down to grab his sketchbook for him. He watched in awe at how swiftly you moved. He was at a loss for words. Your fingers froze over the edge and Tenko realized what page it had landed open on.

"Is that... me?"

Your voice sounded so pretty, even when you were confused. He felt his face burning as you grabbed the sketchbook and stood. Your eyes stared down at the sketch of you he had just done while in the seating area, when he was itching to catch a glimpse of the top of your head through the crowd.

You were so close now and it was going to kill him.

"This is from my Jekyll and Hyde audition last spring, right? Back when I was trying to get the role of Lisa Carew..."

You were so close now and he knew you'd think he was a creep for watching your old videos and bumping into you. You probably thought he had it all planned out, like some sort of stalker.

"Is it okay if I flip through..?"

His brain was screaming at him to say 'no, give it back' but his head nodded, unable to deny you of anything you wanted from him. Yes, there were sketches of you without any clothes on and he was well aware of how that would look, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He would rip out his heart for you to use as a hand warmer, if you asked.

He watched with a gut wrenching mix of horror and delight as you flipped through and took your time to study every page. Drawing had always come easily for him, with hands being his favourite body part to draw. Expressions were a bit more difficult for him to feel satisfied by so he preferred to leave faces blank or smudged out. With you, he actually put in the effort to capture your expressions.

He could see your eyes carefully observe every stroke he made and take in the details. The furrow in your brow as you focused had him contemplating whether or not he wanted to reach his hand over to your face and smooth it out or leave it perfect the way it was.

You hand him the sketchbook and he snaps out of his thoughts.

"Huh?" He had been too in his head to hear what you had said.

"Thank you, I've never had someone draw me before. It feels really nice." You say with a soft laugh. The sound made his skin itch and the tips of his fingers tingle with electricity. He clutched his sketchbook tight enough to pale his knuckles. His nails dug into the material as he barely remembers to stop staring and nod.

You offer him praise and he feels dizzy. You were so nice. Why were you so nice? To him? He wanted to speak but he couldn't decide on what to say.

"I'm super late to practice and my partner's going to be on my ass about it." You sighed. "I gotta go now. You wave goodbye and disappear down the hallway.

He was also a little late to class, his professor shot him a judgmental look as he entered the class a few minutes later. Tenko couldn't bring himself to care. You knew he existed.

×X×

The weather was nice and Tenko was sketching at the outdoor table, when someone sat across from him. He looked up and saw you with an ice cream cone.

"I knew you looked familiar! You're the person that's always out here working on something."

He felt his face heating up as you took a lick of your ice cream. You were so forward. He didn't expect you to approach him again. He had chalked the positive end of your last conversation up to politeness.

"I guess you've been drawing this whole time, huh? Mystery solved. Also explains why you're so good at drawing."

"Thanks to your performances," Tenko says without thinking. He immediately panics at how creepy he sounded.

"Oh, is that why you draw me? I thought it was the outfits since the costume department goes all out for lead roles. Huh, interesting." You continue licking your ice cream while watching him and he has to look away, he felt so shy in your presence. He didn't feel worthy of your attention. You were so soft, so pretty, so talented and he was just a creep with a crush that couldn't stop himself from sketching you constantly.

He looks down at his hands as he stumbles through his nerves when he explains how watching you had helped him with movement, making his art more fluid and dynamic. When he finishes, he looks up and sees you smiling at him. The sight made his breathing hitch and he rasped out a small, "what..?"

Were you making fun of him? Is that what this was? Were you actually just here to-

"You should let me do some reference work with you? I could do more stuff for you."

His eyes widened and he could feel his face heating, the corners of his lips tugging. He didn't know how to speak without making a fool of himself and he was thankful you kept talking. He was happy to sit quietly and watch you.

"We could schedule private sessions, that way it can be just the two of us without anyone interrupting."

"What?" Questioned a third, deeper voice.

The two of you look up and see your partner staring down at you while holding an ice cream cone of his own. "What kinda weird shit you getting into now?"

Your brows furrowed. "Hm? What do you mean?"

"Your wording sucks."

You took a moment to think about it and became flustered. "I didn't mean anything strange," you assured Tenko.

"Sure, pervert."

"Anyways, this is my new friend, uh..." you look over at him sheepishly, "Sorry, what's your name?"

"Shimura Tenko..." His fingers fiddle with the corner of his paper.

"Can I call you Tenko? Or is that too familiar?"

Tenko's face heated up, "Th-That's fine..."

You nod enthusiastically before looking back up at your partner. "This is my new friend Tenko. He's the artist I was telling you about!"

"Oh, so you're the guy who draws her naked?"

"I-It's art..!" You defended.

"S'weird, but whatever." The man seemed bored as he licked his ice cream and took a seat in the chair beside her. "Todoroki Touya. She's like a leech so you're stuck with her now. My condolences."

You nod as you take a lick of your ice cream, "We are now bonded for life."

Tenko awkwardly looks between the two of them, unsure of what to say. The two performers end up in a conversation and he can tell you were trying to include him so that he didn't feel left out. After some bickering, Touya takes a bite out of your ice cream.

"How can you just bite it like that!? Doesn't it hurt your teeth!?"

He shrugs, "The cold never bothered me."

You hum a song from a children's movie as you pull out your phone and hand it to Tenko, asking him to insert his Line I.D. because you want to friend him. He looks between you and Touya, crimson eyes glancing at the arm the other man was lazily resting on the back of your chair.

"Is that okay..?"

You tilt your head in confusion, reminding him of a puppy. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Tenko looks from your kind eyes over to Touya's turquoise ones that seemed to be blazing with fire. As soon as Tenko blinks, the heat was gone and replaced with an impassive expression. Perhaps the dark look directed towards him was simply his mind playing tricks on him.

He typed in his username and you send him a friend request as soon as the phone is returned to you. You angle the phone above your head to take a selfie. Touya shoves his head into the frame, sticking his pierced tongue out as he photobombed.

You notice the time and sit up in a hurry, stating you have a paper due that you still haven't worked on. You run off into the student housing across from the outdoor table.

Tenko watched as you disappeared into the building before looking over at Touya who still sat at the table, only to find that the man was already staring at him. Tension thickened the air like smoke from a fire that made him feel like he was suffocating. He opened his mouth to speak, but Touya scoffs and finishes his ice cream in a single bite before getting up to leave. Tenko watched as Touya swiped his student I.D., shooting him a cocky grin as he entered the same dorm as you.

Tenko felt his phone vibrate and unlocked it to see you had sent him your class schedule so that you two could plan a time to meet up. He eagerly studied the photo and you sent him another photo. It was the selfie you took before you left.

"It was nice seeing you again, Tenko! Let's set up a day to hang out!!"

He could feel the heat rising from his neck to his ears.

You were too cute.

×X×

Over the next 3 weeks, you and Tenko have lost track of the amount of times the two of you had hung out. Sometimes for drawing references, sometimes to eat at the dining hall, sometimes just for the hell of it. Your schedule was busier than his so he was appreciative of the fact that you went out of your way to be with him. Especially on today, of all days.

You and Tenko sat on the floor, your backs against the mirror of the small practice room as he clutched the bag of chocolate cookies you had given him. They were homemade, you said. You had baked them on your dorm floor's shared kitchen. They were in the shape of hearts, flowers, and a bunny for Tenko. He didn't think he would ever forget the ache in his chest when you told him he reminded you of a bunny. The cookies had pink and red icing made with natural ingredients, which was why the palms of your hands were stained with beet juice. He licked his dry lips at the thought of you working hard. Just for him, too, because apparently Touya was a picky eater so you simply bought blue food colouring to use on his cookies. He swallowed anxiously as you continued speaking.

"I was hoping that maybe I'd get chocolates today."

"Isn't Valentine's Day when the girl gives the guy the chocolate..?"

You nod, "Yeah, the norm is girls give chocolates to guys on Valentine's Day then on White Day the guy can give the girl chocolates in response, but you never know! Girls can give girls chocolates, too. It happened to my friend in high school, though it was the guy version of that. Anyways, the whole gender thing Japan does isn't really my cup of tea. Who cares what your gender is, just give people chocolates."

You sighed before continuing, "I've never gotten chocolates before. I know, it's kinda silly to whine about this, but I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic so can you blame me?" You laugh softly to yourself. "If Touya was here, he'd say yes and that it's my fault. He's always teasing me about these kinds of things." Tenko watches as you purse your lips deep in thought.

Tenko chewed his lip before quietly asking, "And Touya? Won't he give you any on White Day?"

"Maybe, but it'll be different." You pull up your knees and hug them. Your thighs were distracting and he struggled to keep his eyes off of them. "The cookies I gave to Touya were obligatory chocolates, not the 'real feeling' kind you would give to someone you like. Last year, I gave Touya obligatory chocolates and he started complaining because he had already received too many sweets. I was so jealous, but at least I managed to convince him to give me his chocolate."

Though he enjoyed snacks, Tenko didn't really care for the holiday. He never really had a reason to... until now.

"Tenko, have you ever gotten chocolates? I mean, other than the ones I just gave you?"

"No."

"So I'm your first?"

He nodded, moving his head to stare down at the sketch in his lap. His fingers fiddled with the corner of the page, crumpling it more and more until it became limp from wrinkling. He'd always found destroying things to be quite soothing for him.

"I..." Tenko was hesitant but decided if you were going to reject him, it was better if you did it sooner rather than later. "I used to live in an orphanage..."

In the corner of his eye, he can see you moving your head quickly to look at him. He tried to swallow his nerves as he continued speaking.

"My family died in an accident when I was five. I was sent to live with a distant relative since there was no one else and the situation was not... ideal. The kids at my new school picked up on my gloominess and shunned me. Even when my great uncle died, my presence would be deemed too unsettling to anyone who tried getting to know me."

He was too afraid to turn his head to look at you so he continued fiddling with the page, ruining more and more of it. You place your hand over his, calming the destruction.

"I used to live in an orphanage, too."

Tenko's eyes widened and he looked at you. "Are you... lying?" He whispered.

"My parents died in an accident when I was little. Wrong place, wrong time. I had no other family in Japan, so I got placed in a children's home. I wouldn't lie to you, Tenko."

His eyes scanned your face, looking for any sign of this being a trick but he could tell from the warm sincerity in your eyes that you were telling him the truth. "I don't know what to say..."

You smile softly at him, "You don't have to say anything."

The feeling of your thumb rubbing circles against his thumb made Tenko's heart tremble. He wanted to swim in this feeling, to drown in it.

He watched your eyes glance down from his and at his lips, his breathing hitching in anticipation as you leaned in slowly to-

The practice room door opened, making the two of you flinch. Tenko missed the feeling of your hand as you leaned back and glared at the intruder.

"I thought I told you to knock before opening doors. You scared me." You folded your arms against your chest.

"Well in that case, I won't give you my chocolates," Touya taunted as he walked over to you. He dropped his bag at the side of you Tenko wasn't on, making a loud 'thump' as it hit the wood floor.

"Chocolate!!" Touya smirked as you opened it and pulled out a heart shaped cookie with the kanji for love written in icing.

"Whatever, eat later. We've got rehearsal."

You look up at Touya while stuffing your face before looking over at Tenko, then back at your partner. "Already? It's not for another ten minutes."

Touya rolled his eyes and grabbed the bag before you could reach in for more sweets. "On time is late."

"Hey! Don't use my words against me, they sound weird coming from you." You wipe your hands against a handkerchief before moving to stand up. "By that logic, you're always late!"

Touya moved towards the door, beckoning you closer with the bag, "Here, doggy."

"Doggy..!?"

"If you spin around and bark I'll give you a treat." The two of you could hear him laughing as he walked out of the room with the bag.

You pout, "That Touya... doesn't he know dogs can't eat chocolates?" You shake your head and Tenko stands, pulling his backpack on. "I guess I'll... see you later then?"

It felt kind of awkward now, but Tenko didn't mind. He only wished that your time together wasn't cut short.

"Yeah."

"Can't wait." You grin and walk out of the dance practice room together. You wave as you go down the opposite side of the hall to catch up with Touya. In the distance Tenko can hear you woof.

As Tenko exited the performing arts building, he felt his phone vibrate. He opened it and saw a selfie of you with chocolate smeared on the side of your face, while trying to shove Touya's face out of the frame and seemingly getting the chocolate on his face in the process.

He grinned. He also couldn't wait to see you again.

×X×

"Chocolate? For me?" You gaped at the small bag of chocolates.

Tenko nodded, his eyes shyly peering up at you as you grabbed the bag and opened it. "There's only four. I made more but they… got ruined…"

"They're handmade?" Your face softened at him, making his heart flutter and his fingers flex at his sides in excitement. You took a bite of one and grinned wide, covering your mouth with your hand as you spoke. "This is really good, Tenko. I didn't know you could cook."

Tenko couldn't but he wasn't going to ruin the moment by speaking. He watched as you ate. The two of you were sitting side by side at his favourite outdoor table near your dorm. Last month, on Valentine's Day, the end of your conversation was a little awkward but thankfully it was gone the next time you guys saw each other. Once again, the two of you had hung out together a bunch of times. The biggest difference though was proximity. Tenko had noticed you getting closer and closer to him at every encounter.

"I finally received chocolates from someone. I'm really happy that it was you, Tenko."

He felt like he died and went to heaven. It would explain your presence. You just needed a halo.

"They're…"

Your eyes looking up from the bag made him nervous and he shook his head, deciding it was better if he didn't finish the sentence.

"They're what?" You ask, sensing his hesitation. "It's just me," you reassure.

"Just you..?" Just you? Just you?

You smile at him before looking down at the bag of chocolates with a pensive expression for a few moments. You look back up at him.

 "Tenko."

"…Yes?" His voice nearly broke. Did he go to far? Did he?

"Even if your hair is always in your face, you're pretty cute." You reach out and brush his hair to the side, tucking it behind his ear. The warmth of your finger tips were no match for the heat flaring across his entire body at your sweet gesture.

You giggle and slowly lean in to his face. He doesn't move. He is frozen. You place a kiss on his cheek and he panics, moving further away in his chair with his hand coming up to hover over the site of your affection.

"Y-You kissed me…"

"I--I'm-- I'm sorry! I didn’t think you would be offended by it. Are you okay?"

"What about Touya!?"

You look at him with a puzzled expression. "What about Touya?"

"He's your boyfriend, isn't he!?"

"Huh!?" You sat up straight in your seat. "I don't have a boyfriend??"

"What?"

"You mean, this whole time you thought Touya was my--" A laugh escaped your lips for a brief second until you collected yourself, looking at him seriously. "Touya's my best friend. I mean… I did like him at one point but it was unreciprocated. Not that it matters, that's old news. I like you, Tenko."

The air left his lungs and he was pretty sure it wasn't going to come back anytime soon.

You liked him?

You?

Liked him?

Shimura Tenko?

Was he dreaming? Hallucinating this entire conversation? It was the only way any of this made sense.

"Here, eat some of these chocolates with me. They're really yummy. The perfect mix of sweet and salty." You pluck one from the baggy and lift it towards his lips. He stares into your eyes then down at the chocolate.

"I'd rather you eat them…"

You pout, "Okay, I won't force you."

You nibble on the chocolate and Tenko licks his lips at the sight.

"What?" You half-laugh. His eyes snap back up to yours.

"I like you, too."

"You do?" You look at him shyly. "I guess now would be a good time to tell you those chocolate cookies I gave you were the 'real feeling' kind?"

You've liked him for that long?

Without warning, Tenko leans in and takes your lips into a kiss. It's clumsy and awkward like him, but you don't shove him away. He can taste the salty sweet on your tongue as you kiss him back and though he wants to keep going, his lungs protested. He pulls back and the two of you stare at each other as he gathers his bearings.

"Was that your first kiss?" You ask.

He offers a small nod, "Was it that bad?"

"It's okay, we'll have plenty of time to practice."

Surprise filled him. "You want to d-do it again?"

You giggle, "Of course I do. So, as long as you're alright with it…"

"Right now? We can do it again right now?" He knew he sounded eager but he couldn't bring himself to care. He needed to feel the softness of your lips against his own.

"I like your enthusiasm." You laugh. "Let's do it when it's just us, okay? We're in public. I'm sure we can schedule in some more uninterrupted private sessions, right, Tenko?"

Tenko gulped, nodding since he didn't trust his voice at the moment.

You weren't disgusted by him, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to be alone with him. You accepted him and all his faults.

You liked him.

Tenko, impatient as he was, could wait as long as you needed him to.

He loved you.

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

This, this is a work of art

Listen To Your Demons

Pairing(s): Quirkless!Incel!Shigaraki x Fem!Succubus!Reader

Content Warning: smut, 18+ minors dni i do check, major teasing, light misogyny, demon talk/ritual talk, switch energy, slight degradation 

A/N: no one requested this, but honestly i had a dream about this and couldn’t get this out of my head. enjoy! (unedited)

Afficher davantage

Summary: You’re trying to recover from what happened, but it’s hard to forget; especially when you know he’ll be back for you one day. Your commutes home have never been so stressful.

Mean!Yandere!Shigaraki x Bimbo!Reader

⚠️ mdni. a splash of horror. dark content. degradation. exhibitionism. fingering. incel. misogyny. noncon. sexism. thoughts of death and dying. victim-blaming. voyeurism. yandere.

Previous l

You go straight to the cops upon fleeing from Shigaraki. You understand why he let you escape when the officers stifle chuckles. You don’t have anything but your word to support the bold accusation that the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front is trying to rape you. Saying it aloud sounds more ridiculous than the way it echoes in your thoughts.

You check the forum. Crumbleking’s post was deleted days ago. The account he used is gone, too. Your Instagram yielded similar results.

At the very least, they believe that someone entered your apartment and assaulted you. His identity being Tomura Shigaraki is highly contested. They send someone over to investigate your home. Much to your chagrin, the officer returns with a clean report. According to his examination, nothing in the space was disturbed. There was no sign of a break and enter.

It’s funny. When you stumbled towards the window, desperate for safety, you recall knocking over a table and shattering the vase. If nothing was disturbed, did your assailant clean up the mess…?

You ration that he had to have, and your heart almost stops. He’s ballsy for that one. You suppose he’s confident in his plan to enact revenge on you. He considers himself invincible, and he damn well might be. But everyone has a weakness.

You’re not stupid enough to think this is over. You aren’t keen to relax now that you’ve alerted the authorities. Will the cops who laughed at you rush to your aid when he inevitably returns for a second try? Doubtful. You’re responsible for protecting yourself.

You submit a police report anyway. They don’t include a name for the suspect because they don’t buy your allegation. It’s enough to simply have the document on file.

You don’t return to your apartment that evening — at least, not by yourself. You explain what happened to a friend. She lives in a beautiful, isolated rural area, about an hour out of town; nevertheless, upon hearing your bad news she drives all the way to pick you up at the station. A stoic, shivering mess, she works to reassure you. Nothing works. Nothing is helpful. She takes you back to her house after grabbing some essentials at your place.

Entering your space felt foreign and uncomfortable. You found yourself jumping at the slightest creak. Nothing was familiar. And you were correct about the vase — someone cleaned it up.

The days following your attack involve negotiating a lease break with your landlord. Fortunately, you’ve lived here long enough to establish a solid rapport with him. He keeps your deposit for last month’s rent and permits you to leave by the end of the week. You do so discreetly.

Gradually, you transport your essentials into your car. On the last day of your lease, you hire movers to bring your larger furniture to a storage unit. You promise your friend it’ll only be for a few weeks, and you mean that — for her sake. Although she comprehends the risks, she still agreed to help you; nonetheless, you don’t believe she’ll be spared if Shigaraki discovers your location.

You quit your job. A new one isn’t difficult to find. It’s in a different city. If all goes well, you figure you’ll move into a nearby apartment and lay low.

The next week or so is quiet. You maintain awareness of your surroundings but nothing happens. It’s as though he’s biding his time… or maybe witnessing you walking on eggshells is precisely what he wants.

Shigaraki is a busy man. He doesn’t have the energy to spend haunting you, a civilian who once talked shit about him online. There are bigger fish to fry. According to him, he gets enough women at home, anyway. It’s likely that you’ll never see him again.

Oh, you poor, naive woman; so willing to believe the logical lies your nervous brain feeds you.

It’s six o’clock in the evening, two weeks after your encounter with the dust villain. You stand on the subway terminal and glare down the tracks. There are a few other people there with you. No one you recognize.

To get to your friend’s residence, you have to take the 2216 train to the very end, walk for fifteen minutes, and catch the bus. It’s a dreadful commute. You’re saving up to buy a used car. But until then, you’ll just have to deal with the time vampirism that comes with sneaking around.

Five minutes into your gruelling wait, the train squeals into the terminal, dim yellow lights flickering as it grinds to a jittery halt. Its doors jerk open with a soft ding. You enter the cabin. As usual, it’s crowded at this time of night. Everyone else is commuting home, too. They get on at the station right before yours, taking up all the seats and more than half the standing space.

You walk down a bit and stand between two men conversing with seated passengers. There’s a group of stylish women next to you, chattering eagerly about their evening plans, and a few scattered friends on the opposite side, dazed and distracted after a long work day. It’s compact, but not uncomfortable yet.

Your hand dips into your pocket. When your fingers don’t find what they’re looking for, you grimace. No earbuds. Great. You must have forgotten them at work.

The train stops at another terminal. More people shuffle on board. The trip commences.

You close your eyes and meditate. Honing in on your breathing, you feel the air entering and leaving your lungs. The sensation is serene. You sigh gingerly as the background noise lessens a bit. Sadly, your peace doesn’t last for long.

Something swipes across your butt. Your spine grows rigid. Accidents happen on packed subways, but that? That didn’t feel like a mistake. You hold your breath as you wait, positive your assailant will make a second move. He doesn’t keep you in suspense for long.

He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the flesh tightly. You gasp. A swift, gloved hand covers your mouth. The textured fabric is rough against your skin.

“Shut the fuck up, you little slut.”

Your assailant’s familiar, raspy voice sends a chill through your entire body. Without a doubt, Tomura Shigaraki is behind you. You were a fool to believe he was gone for good. He had to return, didn’t he? If only to put you in your place.

“If you overreact, I’ll dust this entire cabin.” He warns. “Let me do what I want, and maybe you’ll get to leave alive.”

Why wouldn’t he kill you and everyone on this train? It’s not like you’re special. Once you’re dead, he’ll simply find another person to harass. And the people around you? No one significant. He’d probably garner a lot of attention if he committed mass murder.

But all the same, it’s impossible for you to understand the sick feelings he harbours for you in his heart, and the way they grow every time he sees you. It isn’t love. It isn’t lust. It’s a sensation that’s incomprehensibly sinister in its somber nature; a volatile melange of emotions that frightens even him. You have no idea the lengths he would go to for the sake of preserving your life; he’s not finished toying with you yet.

He releases your ass and uncovers your mouth. Securing a palm firmly to your hip, he slithers his other hand up your skirt. Slipping your panties aside, he finds your clit. His index fingers massages slow circles over your twitching nub, eliciting a delicious exhale.

He dreamed of this moment for weeks. He fantasized about bearing claim to you in public, where anyone can watch. He’s about to be the God of this world, isn’t he? He can do as he pleases, and to hell with the consequences. When he possesses rule, he’ll have you cockwarm him on his throne all day long. By that time, you’ll surely know your place beneath his muddy boot.

He teases the lips of your cunt with his sharp fingernail, gliding it gently over the edge of your small hole. He pinches your thigh when you attempt to press your legs together. He won’t let you deny him entry to what’s his.

“I’m wearing gloves that cancel out my quirk.” He mutters darkly. “But if you don’t cooperate, I’ll take them off and activate it right here.”

He twists your clit between his thumb and index finger. The horrifying thoughts causes a stray tear to drip down your cheek. You don’t want to imagine how that would feel.

“Sorry,” you whisper pathetically. “I-I will.”

Picking up the tone of your voice, the man next to you turns around. Shigaraki removes his hand from beneath your skirt and wraps both arms around your waist. He lifts a brow when the stranger acknowledges both of you. To him, it looks like you’re a couple commuting home together. He has no concept of what’s truly going on; that if you don’t obey, him, and everyone else on this train, will die. Ignorant, he smiles and returns to his trivial conversation.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” The villain growls viciously. “Second strike, whore.”

You understand that the third strike will be your last.

You glance over your shoulder. He’s wearing a black face mask to match a large, baggy sweater. Crimson irises leer at you menacingly. He has his hood pulled over a head of shaggy, unkempt hair. It’s no wonder he hasn’t been recognized; his signature traits — like the hand covering his face, or his pastel tresses — are hidden from sight.

Just as you’re drinking in his appearance, he’s basking in yours. You look even better than the photos you put up on your social media account. He managed to save a few before you deleted it. He stares at them when he’s fucking his hand to the notion of capturing and taming you. He cums the hardest to porn where women are nothing more than brain dead sex slaves; that’s what he envisions for you.

Of course, submissive bitches aren’t born obedient; they need to be whipped into shape. He thinks the fight you put up is the best part about the training process. When you’re unruly, it forces him to be crueller. He wonders when you’ll pick up on that. It doesn’t have to hurt if you simply comply.

As much as he’s intrigued to witness you up close, he’s pissed at you for wearing a skirt today. Don’t you know the meaning of decency? Anyone could have molested you on the train. It’s practically a cultural norm for cute women to get harassed during their commute. He’s going to teach your pussy who it belongs to. Then, next time you go to work m, you might think twice before wearing a garment that’s easy access.

You face forward, when he grasps your shoulders. Slowly, his hands slide down to your hands, stopping to give them an affectionate squeeze, in case there are curious voyeurs. He wants to make this look as organic as possible.

From behind, he lifts up your skirt and pulls your panties aside. The fabric bites into your flesh, no doubt giving you a rash on the crease of your crotch. He’s careless with his motions; this is all about him. Discomfort is a sensation you should become dearly acquainted with.

“Did you miss me?”

You bite your lower lip when his digits discover your clit. Your back arches as they map out the nub, teasing your hooded flesh to see what your pussy needs to drip. It doesn’t take much. You can’t distract yourself from his touches. There’s nothing stimulating; merely the backs of strangers who couldn’t save you if they tried.

Inwardly, you sob. You have no control. Even your own body is betraying you.

He dips a finger between your folds and hums when he discovers how wet you are. Running the length of his index finger along your clit, he snickers. He knew you were in denial. You must want him. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to admit your desire by the end of your trip back to the Deika City.

“Feels like it.”

You frantically scope the sea of people. You’re between several, so you think you’re clear from view; then, you catch the eye of an older businessman. He’s staring directly at your crotch, where Shigaraki’s fingers are massaging your puffy clit. You bite the inside of your cheek. He knows what’s going on. You bet he’s been enjoying the show. You can’t count on a pig like him to save you.

You repress a sob, utterly humiliated. You haven’t felt this degraded in your life. You’re being groped by Japan’s most notorious villain while a lustful stranger observes.

“I bet you thought you got away from me, didn’t you?” He snarls. “Thought I’d forgotten about you.”

You’re too embarrassed to admit it. You fell right into his trap. Somehow, he knew you would lower your guard after a while. It’s precisely when you set it down completely that he struck. You’re either extremely predictable or he has incredible intuition.

He removes his hand from your underwear and brings it around to your chest. You feel your juices coat your skin and shudder. You can’t believe your body got wet for this disgusting motherfucker.

His nasty fingers claw at the buttons of your blouse. One of them pops off. It shoots diagonal, striking one of the windows. A passenger picks it up and glances around. You lock eyes with her. Instantly, she notices what’s going on. Unlike the businessman from earlier, however, you know she has the intention to act. It sparks a flame of hope in your heart.

A few men shift and shroud her from view. It’s probably for the best. Shigaraki’s digits locate your nipple soon after, dipping beneath your bra to pinch the responsive flesh. You stifle a shriek when his plucking becomes too much.

“I’m going to take you back with me and tie you up in the middle of our courtyard,” he whispers hoarsely, voice dripping with desire. “I’m sure some of our soldiers could use a bit of stress relief.”

You gag. You’ll die abused, beaten, starved, and dehydrated — a prisoner of war because you mouthed off on the Internet. This is so stupid.

Your captor groans softly as he withdraws his hand from your breast and slides a lithe finger past your folds, sheathing it up to his knuckle. He can tell it hurts. Your pain makes him enjoy it more. You stiffen and bite your lower lip.

The vehicle jolts to a halt again. The system announces that this is Jolicoeur Station, the second last stop on the line. That means you’re nearly there. He hums approvingly when the doors shut.

“Time’s almost up, whore.”

You don’t know what the fuck that means. Is he going to kill you or bring you to his base? Only time will tell, you suppose. For now, you want his sharp fingernail away from your cervix. You wriggle, praying he’ll at least stop jiggling it around. It isn’t long until he does, though he makes it clear he withdrew if his own volition; he can’t have you thinking you have a modicum of power over him, can he?

He’ll treat you like you’re nothing — a lifetime of serving him will drill that into your pretty head. He’ll never let you understand your real worth again when you’re under his brutal care. Beneath his boot is where you’ll remain.

The train lunges to another ungrateful stop. Your heart drops. This is it — the end of the line. Shigaraki touches you with both hands from behind, drumming his clothed fingers atop your shoulders.

“When the doors open, walk.” He instructs you. “We’ll pretend we’re a couple.”

You want to throw up. He’s forcing you to act like his lover after playing with you against your will. You’ll be damned if you go down without a fight. If you see an opening to ditch him, you’re going to take it; to hell with considering the consequences of being caught a third time.

He smooths your clothes out from how he rumpled them. He figures it’ll seem more natural if you appear relatively put together. He fixes your blouse and then moved to your skirt. To onlookers, it’s probably cute — a boyfriend tending to his girlfriend. They have no idea about the undertones of his treatment.

As if on cue, the woman from earlier coaxes your gaze back to hers. She licks her lips and reaches for the emergency switch. Your mouth opens. You know what she’s trying to do. It’s perfect. He won’t expect it because he thinks he’s in the clear.

You nod once. She takes that as your signal to proceed m. With a visible grunt, she yanks the switch down. Reprieve floods your chest as soon as you hear the alarm.

You have to go.

Now.

The doors of the train freeze. In a panic, everyone races out of the car. You follow suit. The second you sense his grip slacken, you bolt. As you scurry off the car, you feel Shigaraki’s greedy hand reach for you — gloveless. You scream. Your voice blends in with the rest of the cacophony, shielding you from unwanted attention.

You glance over your shoulder. Everything around you slows down. He’s standing in the sea of people, still and glaring. His hood is pulled down and his mask is hanging off one ear. His scarred lips are contorted in a grimace.

For a brief moment, an understanding is met. Today, both of you learned that the other is not to be underestimated. After this little stunt, you’re his main priority. He hopes you’re prepared to take this game just as seriously, because he won’t stop pursuing you unless he’s killed. And he knows that won’t happen anytime soon.

You turn away from him and finish your flight. Like last time, he permits you to escape. He stays glued in place until nearly everyone else has left the terminal; then, he departs.

You have no idea the demons you’ve awakened inside him.

—

Suggestions for kinks to write in the next parts are welcome :)

FUCK MHA CANON !

I'M BOYCOTING THAT SHIT I DON'T WANNA READ THE END NOW THAT I KNOW THAT TOMURA WILL DIE IMMA DRAW MY OWN END AHAHAHHAHAH NOBODY CAN STOP ME ! BEING AND ARTIST IS FIRE-..sorry..

(Seriously thought)