Safe Wording With The League

Ready Player 1 ? - Shigaraki x reader

18+ MDNI | masturbation, praise , video chats, crack-humor

most would consider it unwise for a girl like you to be in these chat rooms due to the questionable discourse and rather infamous patrons, but girls just wanna have fun right ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: saw an old couple today, could be me and shig but he’s playing ☹️

user2345: i think you mean planning* as in planning world domination and torment of quirkless losers like you.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh sweetheart you’ll never get any pussy if you keep acting like one

user3333: damn bro, you gonna take that ?

user2345: who gives a shit about some villain groupie ?

user2345: she keeps her mouth so full of cum that it’s starting to affect her whore brain.

user2345: do you really think the true leader of the new world would make time for some dumb cunt like you ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: there’s probably a higher chance of tomura shigaraki and i living happily ever after than there is of ANY woman even looking in your direction.

this was a normal friday night, you simping over shigaraki in the forums and clapping back at the misogynistic incels that hid behind their keyboards in their mothers’ basements. but there was one guy that always stood up for you whenever the idiots got too out of hand. he was also a moderator so he had no problems blocking them.

the two of you would dm off and on about life , thoughts on hero society, hobbies , etc. from your chats you gathered that he didn’t walk that straight and narrow but that didn’t mean much to you. he would sometimes tease your about your crush on shigaraki and your general taste in men.

finalboss: honestly, what kind of girl likes a criminal?; who knows what kind of twisted shit the guys into— you’re not even a villain.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you know nothing jon snow

finalboss: that reference just confirmed btw

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i’ll have you know that my beloved is a certified otaku fantasy nerd.

finalboss: oh yeah ? and how’d you obtain such info ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i run 3 stan accounts on twitter and i belong to a shiggy fan club 🥹

finalboss: 😃

finalboss: seek help

finalboss: 😃

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you wound me ☹️

finalboss: i’ll just leave that too your Prince Charming lol

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh lord , did you see the footage of his latest attack ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: he was dressed like a whoreee 😩😩

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: tits just out for my viewing pleasure

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: shigaraki is my shepherd, he know what i want.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: wanna suck on those sugar nips and call him mommy

finalboss: you get weirder and weirder every time we chat

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: that means we’re becoming besties ㅤ♡ ︎

finalboss: ♡ ︎

it was nice having someone to talk to about your secret obsession, it’s not like your “real life” friends would understand. the two of you had carved out your own little piece of the internet to goof around in. he never disclosed much information about himself and typically kept the conversations focused on you, but you still felt an undeniable bond to this faceless stranger.

then he ghosted you.

weeks went by without a word from your friend. he no longer defended you in the forums and he didn’t respond to any of your dms. you’d started to get worried that he may have been arrested or worse. and at the three month mark you’d finally given up hope that you’d ever hear from your friend again. but then the unexpected happened.

finalboss is requesting to video chat.

this was completely out of character but after months with no word, you were desperate to hear from your friend.

you were prepared to chew him him out for abandoning you. thinking of all the ways you could insult him while simultaneously expressing your need for his comfort and company. but your mind went blank when the grainy screen loaded into the pixelated image of your companion.

whispy tendrils fell from his bun, framing the sculpted planes of his handsome face. his lips were dry, slightly chapped, with the only lubrication being the sheen of saliva left by the slow drag of his tongue. bloodied eyes bore into your own leaving you breathless and dazed.

“hey bestie”

his voice was low and raspy, almost like a whisper. a deep rumbling that echoed in your ear drums. it was oddly hypnotic. he was absolutely mesmerizing.

tomura chuckled into the camera, showing flashes of perfectly white teeth. he leans back into the chair, a hand on the back of his neck showcasing a broad chest and toned abs.

“didn’t expect you to be this quiet, bestie. is my outfit not slutty enough for you ? i could always take these off…” his hand fell from his neck to rest and the waistband of his black jeans.

you remained speechless, eyes glued to the light dusting of hair below his belly button.

more laughter and shifting. now you were met with the glorious girth of shigaraki’s cock clenched tightly in his fist. the darkened tip oozed a sparkling trail of pre that spilled down his length. his thumb swiped the fluid to spread over his veiny member.

“c’mon , doll. don’t leave me hanging” he teased, squeezing his fist upwards to produce more pre. “i thought you wanted to be my ‘mc’ ? seems more like an npc if you ask me”.

“y-you’re him” you stammered, eyes following the slow drag of his fist. “you’re tomura shigaraki”.

“in the flesh” he teased, shooting a wink that went directly between your legs. “well kinda, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. sorry i’ve been away so long, but you’d wait forever for me won’t you , perfect girl ?”

your nod was automatic. robotic even. you’d moved closer to the screen, completely engrossed by his ministrations.

“anything for you beyon—shiggy”

you both laughed at that. he appreciated your humor, especially with all the drama in his day to day. even in def con simp mode and being ghosted didn’t stop you from being undeniably you. that’s probably why he was as obsessed with you as you were with him.

“i know we probably have alot to discuss but todays been kind of shitty and i’d really like to explore our final fantasies”.

you snorted, “that was really bad , shig”.

he shrugged, “i’m a villain, not a comedian, beloved. “now show me that perfect little pussy”.

Two Hours - Chapter 1 - Shigaraki x Reader

***

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

***

Two hours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, something grabbed you by the shoulder.

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

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

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

"You're the tutor, right?"

You looked at the ominous figure incredulously.

"What ?"

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

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

Then, his words started registering.

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

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

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

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

You kept staring.

And staring.

And staring.

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

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

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

"What do you mean, no?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could have strangled him.

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

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

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

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

"Told you. The system is fucked."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Whatever."

---

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

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

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

"Yeah, I can get behind that."

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

"Me too, actually," you agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But damn, did you love Plus Ultra.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"F-forget it. That was stupid."

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

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

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

"Yeah, maybe."

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That made him stop right in his tracks.

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

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

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

You crossed your fingers, presenting them to him ceremoniously.

"I won't laugh. Promise."

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

Cute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

It was a bar.

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

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

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

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

"No, no problem," you said.

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

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

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

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

But what did you really know?

"You lost ?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dabi."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Property", he had said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sitting," you replied simply.

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you... own this place?"

"Something like that. Here."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tomura is one of those guys who kisses you with his mouth fully open. like he doesn't even try to match the movement or the form of your lips with his and just slobbers all over your face, covering it with spit. your whole chin and upper lip are always wet and sticky with his saliva. you think it's the lack of experience, but no. apparently, he just likes making out with you so much that he can't contain himself from vacuuming your whole mouth into his while salivating and panting heavily. get used to having drool on your face.

Enough to Go By (Chapter 11) - 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)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Chapter 11

“Hey, there you are!” Spinner spots you and Tomura first as you step through the portal. “Twice is on his way. We thought you two were never going to show up!”

Tomura lets go of your hand and peels off his gloves, heading for the pile of gear that contains the rest of the hands and his coat. He put the hand he calls Father on his face before you left the apartment. “Kurogiri was busy.”

“Sure he was.” On the far corner of the wall, Dabi is rolling his eyes. “We all know what you two were busy doing.”

Your face heats up, but you’re behind your veil, and Tomura’s busy securing a set of hands over his neck, covering both the bandage and the mark you left on the other side. Nobody else seems too interested in joining Dabi in picking on you, although Magne’s ribbing him for supposed jealousy over his own lack of a cute girlfriend. Toga is studying you. “You changed your costume,” she says, and you hold your breath while she renders her verdict. “It’s cute.”

Compress drifts closer to investigate, too. “It’s an improvement. What’s the occasion?”

“We’re meeting somebody in an official capacity. I just thought I shouldn’t wear street clothes.”

Your costume upgrade isn’t much, and it took a while to put together. You’ve still got the grey veil and crown of thorns, but underneath it you’ve added a grey long-sleeved tunic you thrifted, leggings you bought, and boots you already had. Then you decided that the tunic was a little shapeless and cinched it at the waist with a red scarf. Worst comes to worst, you can use it as a tourniquet. You were worried about what Tenko would think of the entire effect, but when you showed him before Kurogiri came to get the two of you, you could tell he was pleased. Pleased enough to kiss you over it, although it took a while to make it work around the veil.

The aesthetics of your costume aren’t the important part. There’s a thin backpack over your shoulders, completely hidden by the back of the veil, which contains your best approximation of an EMT kit, and there’s a spare suture kit taped to your thigh, out of sight under the tunic. That was Tenko’s idea. He doesn’t want Overhaul to guess what role you play in the League.

And apparently he’s not the only one who’s been thinking along those lines. “It’s a good thing you changed your costume,” Spinner says. You look questioningly at him before remembering that he can’t see your face under the veil. “We were thinking. Shigaraki wants you to stay undercover, which means we can’t use your name in front of outsiders. And that means you need –”

“A code name!” Toga chimes in. “We all talked about it –”

“Nobody liked my ideas,” Dabi mutters.

You don’t even want to know. “And we all agreed,” Compress continues. “Unless Shigaraki has already given you one –”

You look to Tomura. This looks like it’s news to him, just like it’s news to you, and he only ever calls you by name. He shakes his head. “Excellent,” Compress says. “Spinner’s idea was chosen. Spinner should reveal it.”

Spinner looks a little nervous. “We already use a nickname for you,” he starts, “but ‘Saint’ sounds really dumb for a code name. So we decided instead – Saintess.”

It’s quiet for a second. “That’s not a word,” Tomura says.

“It is! We looked it up,” Toga sings out. “It’s like actor and actress, or villain and villainess. Saint, Saintess. It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

You’re not sure if you like it. It feels like kind of a dig against you. More than ‘kind of’, if you’re being honest. “It suits your look,” Magne points out. “And your attitude, since the boss wouldn’t dream of letting you get your hands dirty.”

“My hands will get dirty the first time one of you gets hurt,” you say. “You have the important work. My job is to make sure you can keep doing it.”

“Spoken like a true Saintess,” Compress proclaims. “Shigaraki. Your thoughts?”

“Yeah. She’s your girlfriend,” Dabi says. “You really want to let Spinner name her?”

Tomura considers it for a moment. “If it’s a good name, it doesn’t matter who it comes from. And it’s better to be named by your friends than your enemies.” He nods to Spinner. “It’s a good name. Call her Saintess from now on.”

Toga wandered over to one of the windows while Tomura was talking, but now she hurries back. “I see Twice! He’s got the other guy with him.”

“Places,” Tomura orders, and the League scatters to the sides. He reaches out and links little fingers with you. “You’re with me. This way.”

The League arranges themselves on and around a pile of shipping containers, set up in a rough pyramid. Tomura settles on one just below the highest level, and you sit down on one just below his, slightly off to the side so you won’t block his view. Tomura looks dissatisfied. “You should be up here,” he says. “But it’ll draw his attention to you. I’m not risking that.”

“I’m fine where I am,” you say. You glance up at him. “How’s your neck?”

“It’ll be fine,” he says, which means it hurts. You’ll look at it later, once this is over. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. You did a great job with the aftercare.”

Tomura’s face flushes, and you remind yourself to be careful what you say. The hand over his face doesn’t hide him nearly as well as your veil hides you. “Tell me what your friend said about them again,” he says. “The Hassaikai.”

“The new head – the one we’re meeting – he isn’t liked the way the old one was,” you say. “Someone who worked for both of them called him a monster. After he left the gang.”

“Yakuza don’t defect. For someone to do something like that, it must be serious.” Tenko’s expression is grim behind the hand. He raises his voice. “Be careful. Twice is trustworthy, but the one he’s bringing isn’t.”

“Understood.”

“You got it, boss,” Magne says, winking.

“For sure, Tomura-kun!” Toga chirps. She’s the only person other than you who uses Tomura’s given name. “I can’t wait to meet our new friend!”

You wish you had Toga’s optimism. Instead, all you feel as the head of the Shie Hassaikai walks into the warehouse is apprehension. You know you shouldn’t. Everyone here is battle-tested, except you. Everybody here has a quirk, except you. They can handle themselves, and they have the yakuza boss outnumbered seven to one – and if things wind up, it’s your job to settle them down.

Overhaul wears a mask over the lower half of his face, and thin white gloves on both hands. Is his quirk in his hands, like Tomura’s is? He’s peering up at Tomura and the rest of you, only the barest spark of interest in his eyes. “So this is where you’ve been hiding. I expected a little more.”

“It takes some time for an organization to adjust following a change in leadership,” Tomura says. “I’m sure you understand.”

Overhaul inclines his head. “Of course. Still, I expected more from All For One’s student.”

His voice is dry, almost inflectionless. Tomura chuckles. “And yet you’re coming to me, not the other way around. Explain that.”

Overhaul’s eyes started on Tomura. Now they’re shifting, from Magne and Spinner and Dabi on one side to Compress and Toga and Twice on the other. Then back to Tomura. Then down to you. His eyes are still on you as he addresses Tomura again. “To my generation, your master was nothing more than a dark legend, but the elders believed we still had reason to fear him. It seems they were right.”

To fear him, not to fear Tomura. Overhaul’s not scared of Tomura, and he doesn’t seem worried about just how badly outnumbered he is. Your stomach clenches. “With All Might gone, the underworld is in chaos,” Overhaul continues. “And it’ll stay that way, so long as the question of who the next leader will be remains in doubt.”

“I’m the next leader.” Tomura’s confidence sounds unshakeable. “All Might fell because of the League’s actions. The heroes are rattled because of what we’ve done.”

He gestures at all of you. “We’ve got victories to our name. What have you got?”

“All Might didn’t fall. He was forced to retire. And it was by your master’s hand, not yours.” Overhaul’s gaze drifts across the League, lingering on each person for a few moments, you included. “Every time you’ve won, you’ve taken losses equal to or greater than the victory you’ve claimed. You still have outside help – you don’t look nearly as filthy as I’d expect for staying three weeks in a warehouse without running water – but it’s much less than you had before.”

“Congratulations. You have eyes.” Tomura’s voice is sharp. “But again – you came to us. Not the other way around. I’m the next leader. You can join me or you can stay out of my way.”

“Let’s assume you’re correct, and you are the next leader. What’s your goal?”

Tomura scoffs. “To expose the so-called heroic system for what it is, and bring it down.”

“How?”

The question rings out, and it’s met with silence. Too long of a silence. Tomura regroups, but not fast enough. “All Might –”

“One hero, who would have retired anyway. Others will come to take his place,” Overhaul says. “You have ideals, but ideals are useless without a plan. And I have a plan.”

Tomura’s jaw is clenched, and you see Spinner’s shoulders stiffen, see a blue spark flicker around Dabi’s fingers. Useless is never anything but inflammatory, and you know enough about the League at this point to know that almost all of them feel like they’ve been thrown away. You speak before anyone else can. “It’s nice that you have a plan,” you say to Overhaul. Nice isn’t the best word, but you’re thinking on your feet. “That’s less important than your goal. If your goal doesn’t align with ours, we should go our separate ways in peace.”

Overhaul studies you. “We do share a goal,” he says after a moment. “The destruction of the current system, and a return to the old ways. We can assist each other in that regard.”

“How?”

“My plan is sound, but my organization is small, with few flashy victories. In order to secure more support –”

“You want our name,” Tomura says. “Why should we loan it to you?”

Overhaul doesn’t answer him. “Put yourselves under me,” he says, and the League reacts exactly how you’d expect them to. Overhaul ignores them. “I’ll ensure you’re better taken care of than this. In exchange, you’ll reap the rewards of my plan to return to the old order.”

“And take orders from you?” Tomura’s voice is full of scorn. “I don’t think so.”

“It isn’t a request.” Overhaul shakes his head. “You lack the vision necessary to make your childish dreams a reality. Since your master didn’t teach you properly, it falls to someone else to rein you in.”

It’s not a request. If it’s not a request, it’s because he thinks he has the upper hand. Why does he think that? “Someone ought to rein you in,” Magne says. She’s on her feet, and a bolt of terror shoots through you. “I’ll put you in your place.”

She activates her quirk, and Overhaul’s yanked towards her from across the warehouse. It surprises him, but not enough. You see him yank off one of his sheer gloves, extend his hand, making contact with Magne’s forearm before her support item can strike the side of his head. He touches her, and then –

Spinner, Toga, and Twice all cry out, but it’s too late. You can barely make sense of what you’re seeing. Dabi looks up at you, shouts at you to do something, but Magne’s beyond your help, beyond anyone’s. Even if you had a healing quirk, you’d need something to heal, and the top half of Magne’s body is gone. All that’s left are her support items and her legs, which teeter horribly in place, twitching, before falling limply to the floor.

Everyone’s frozen – you, Dabi, even Tomura. The only person who moves is the person who’s close enough to contain the situation. Compress lunges forward. A gunshot rings out from somewhere, and you see his arm jerk as his hand makes contact with Overhaul. His quirk should contain Overhaul instantly, but nothing happens. Overhaul seizes him by the wrist with the same hand that killed Magne and blows his arm apart.

He screams, and the sound breaks your paralysis and Tomura’s at the same time. You both leap into motion, Tomura headed for Overhaul, you aiming for Compress, and for a few seconds, you’re running side by side. A second gunshot rings out, from the same direction as before. You know who they’re aiming at, whoever they are. You throw yourself forward, getting ahead of Tomura by a single step, and the bullet tears through your veil, sinks into your shoulder. It doesn’t hurt like you expected it to. It feels more like a sting.

There’s a third shot, but Tomura’s aware now. He dodges, closing the gap between himself and Overhaul, and you readjust your trajectory and race to Compress’s side.

The floor’s covered in his blood and Magne’s, but you drop to your knees at his side anyway. There’s an explosion somewhere in the offing, and for a moment, you’re dragged back to Kamino – but you aren’t there, and you’ve got a job to do. You pull your backpack from beneath the veil, unzip it, and start pressing sterile pads down over the open wound. Compress howls, tries to squirm away, but someone pins him in place. Spinner, who’s come to help. You don’t have even a second to thank him. Your entire world narrows down to finding a way to control the bleeding, to secure the bandages, to make sure the job Overhaul started isn’t finished on your watch.

You don’t see what happens with Overhaul. You hear pieces of it, enough to know that the Hassaikai is withdrawing for now, that Tomura killed one of them, that the not-a-request is still on the table and Overhaul fully expects Tomura to agree once he’s had time to think. And then he’s leaving. Overhaul is leaving, and Magne is dead – but Overhaul’s quirk isn’t what he did to Compress and Magne, is it? That can’t be it. If that was it, they’d call it something else. If that’s not all it is, is there something more he can do?

“Wait!” The words leave your mouth at a volume you didn’t expect, and Overhaul’s progress towards the hole he punched in the wall stops. He turns back to face you, and you seize the chance to speak before anyone else can stop you. “You can fix people, can’t you?”

Overhaul inclines his head. That’s as close to a yes as you’re going to get. You swallow hard. “Please,” you say, “bring Magne back.”

“Why should I do that?” Overhaul’s voice is flat. “He attacked first.”

“She did,” you admit.

“And Shigaraki killed one of my subordinates. Wouldn’t you say we’re even?”

“No,” you say. Overhaul tilts his head to one side, studying you. “You called the person Tomura killed a subordinate. Magne is our friend. We made a mistake, but you can save her. Please, bring her back.”

Don’t disagree with him, but make your point. Don’t look helpless, but hand him as much power as you can. Be respectful, deferential, but not submissive. Every de-escalation skill you’ve ever practiced flashes through your head, and it’ll all be useless if any of the other members of the League open their mouths, Tomura included. But they’re quiet, for once, and Overhaul’s still looking at you. What happens to Magne now is up to him – and up to you, if you’re able to convince him.

“If I bring him back, I leave a valuable piece in Shigaraki’s hands, and I’m not interested in rewarding bad behavior,” he says. You nod. He’s not saying no yet. As long as he hasn’t said no, there’s a chance. “So I’ll make you a deal. If you value his life so much, then I’ll bring him back – and you’ll leave him here for the police to find.”

Your stomach lurches. “Decide quickly,” Overhaul says, and finally, he looks away from you. “As the leader, Shigaraki, the choice is yours.”

Tomura doesn’t hesitate. “Bring her back.”

Overhaul walks past you without looking at you again, to the same spot where Magne’s legs and support item lay in a pool of blood. He peels his glove off his hand and touches the puddle of blood and tissue. You don’t know how to explain what he’s doing, except that he’s reassembling her body, piece by piece. Someone throws up – Spinner, who at least has the presence of mind to turn away from Compress before he does it. Compress, and his missing arm. Why didn’t you negotiate for that as well? You’re an idiot. You’re out of your mind, and Compress is still losing blood. Your job still isn’t done.

You don’t look up again until you’ve packed enough sterile pads onto the stump of Compress’s arm that they don’t bleed through instantly, and when you look up, you find the rest of the League gathered around, and Overhaul’s minions standing back, guarding the exits. Twice is melting down. Toga’s trying to console him, but she looks furious herself, and Dabi’s expression is masklike, frozen. Tomura crouches next to you. “How is he?”

“I’ve secured it for now, but he needs those arteries clamped off. Does law enforcement know his face?” You see Tomura shake his head out of the corner of your eye. “If we take the mask off and lose some of the costume, I can take him to the clinic. They won’t ask questions.”

Tomura nods once. “I’ve called Kurogiri. He’ll take you there. Can you stay with him?”

“We can’t stay here,” Dabi interrupts sharply, before you can finish saying yes. “Half the prefecture heard that explosion. Where are we supposed to go?”

“Back to the waystation.” Tomura answers before you can offer. You would have. He looks to you. “Meet us back there as soon as you can get away.”

Warp gates begin to appear, engulfing the other members of the League, and you start removing the identifying features of Compress’s costume. Hat, waistcoat, tie, mask, the one remaining glove. Now he just looks like a normal guy. A guy who’s had a really awful accident. You pack up your medical kit, put your backpack on, and start pulling Compress to his feet. He doesn’t resist, exactly. It’s more that he just doesn’t try. “Leave me here. I lost my arm. My quirk. There’s no point to anything anymore.”

You’ve lived your whole life without a quirk. It’s not the end of the world. Sometimes people with quirks say the dumbest things. You chalk it up to blood loss and decide to ignore it. “I’m not leaving you behind. We’re going to get you patched up and get back to the others.

The warp gate appears and you drag Compress through it, the two of you emerging in the alleyway behind the clinic. You barely remember to take off the veil and crown and tuck them away before you and Compress make it to the waiting room. All you can think about is how you failed to negotiate for Compress’s arm. All you can think about is how you had to leave Magne behind.

You figured it might be a while before you got back to your apartment, but you weren’t counting on all the complications – the clinic’s short-staffed, and in order to circumvent the policy about sending major trauma to the ER unless there’s no choice, you hop in to help and free up a nurse-practitioner with a quirk that helps blood clot to tend to Compress. Unsurprisingly, there are questions about how Compress got the injury. You don’t feel any shame in saying that a villain did it.

About four hours in, you get a phone call on the clinic’s phone. The person who initially answers it tells you it’s your sister, which sounds not-right – Isuzu doesn’t know where you work, and if she wanted to talk to you, she’d call your phone, not the clinic’s. You pick up the call and hear Toga’s voice on the other end. “Tomura-kun wants to talk to you,” she says. She sounds miserable. “Hang on.”

Tomura doesn’t sound much better than her. “How is he?”

“As good as he can be. Once he’s hemodynamically stable they’ll let him go.” You hear the questioning sound Tomura makes and define your terms. “Once his blood volume’s a little more compatible with life. How are things back there?”

“Fucked.” There’s a light thud. You imagine Tomura flopping back against the wall. “Twice hasn’t quit freaking out. Dabi and Spinner are climbing the fucking walls. Toga is – I don’t know what. You need to come back soon. I don’t know what to do.”

“As soon as I can. But you do know what to do.” You try to think. “Tell them that he won’t get away with this. That we’ll make sure he answers for it. Make them believe you.”

You think of what you’ve seen from the League so far, how they’ve gone from at each other’s throats that first night in the bar to ready to fight for each other now. It’s because of Tomura, because of who he is. “You’ve always known how to do that.”

Someone shouts for you down the hall – something about a patient who needs a pelvic exam. You wince. “I have to go. I’ll call when we’re ready for – wait, how are you calling me? Whose phone is this?”

“Yours. You left it on the kitchen table.”

You did. You’re not under suspicion, but you didn’t want to risk anybody tracking your phone’s location. “I’ll call when we’re ready for a pickup. Soon.”

“Soon.” Tomura hangs up, and you head down the hall to talk a patient into a pelvic exam they really don’t want.

The nurse-practitioner who was looking after Compress really doesn’t want to let him go, but you manage to talk her into it, and you and Compress make it back to the alley and through the warp gate to your apartment. The mood within the apartment is palpable. Sadness. Frustration. Fury. With the number of unstable personalities in the League, it’s a miracle that no one’s trashed the place yet.

Dabi is sprawled on the couch, but even he’s not so much of an asshole that he’d make Compress stand. He gets up, and once Compress is lying down, he climbs up to sit on the back of the couch instead. He peers down at Compress. “You look like hell.”

“So would you.” Compress looks pretty sickeningly pale. “I lost my arm and my quirk.”

“Your quirk?” 

“He touched Overhaul. It should have worked,” Spinner says. “But it was after he got shot with one of those.”

He points at the coffee table. There’s a bright-red capsule sitting there. You’d say it was a bullet, except for the fact that it’s tipped with a needle. “What is that?”

“We don’t know,” Tomura says. He’s sitting on your kitchen table, legs crossed, elbows on his knees. “We need to find out.”

“I heard three shots.” Toga’s voice drifts out of the kitchen. When you take a peek, you find she and Twice lying on their backs on the tiles. “One hit Mr. Compress and one missed Tomura-kun. What about the third one?”

You become aware, suddenly, of a sore spot on your shoulder. “I think that was me.”

“Right,” Spinner says. “You and Shigaraki both ran. I saw you get in front of him. What happened to your quirk?”

You look blankly at him. Is it really possible that the League doesn’t know you’re quirkless? Tomura wouldn’t have told him. It doesn’t matter to him. You glance to Tomura. Tomura nods once, and you take a deep breath. No matter how many times you say it, it never gets easier. “I don’t have one.”

It’s quiet for a second. “Twice,” Dabi says, “pay up.”

“No fair,” Twice protests. “You bet she had a lame quirk, not that she didn’t have one at all.”

“Having no quirk is probably better than having a lame quirk,” Spinner says. You’d argue, except you have a vague idea of the hell that heteromorphs go through, and if Spinner would rather have your problem than his, you’re not going to judge him for it. “Healing quirks are really rare anyway. And I’ve heard they burn through tons of mana.”

“Even if you had one, it’s not like you could make somebody’s arm grow back,” Toga says practically. “Or somebody’s –”

She trails off. You know what she’s thinking of, because you’re thinking of it, too – what happened to Magne, something so sudden and catastrophic that it would take a miracle or turning back time to fix. You got a miracle, but you lost Magne anyway. Her arrest was reported on the news while you were still at the clinic. In the silence that falls, Tomura climbs down from the kitchen table and steps into the center of the room. “Three days from now I’ll tell Overhaul that we’re accepting his offer,” he says. No one says a word. “When we respond to what he did, we need to respond decisively. That means we need more information. And we need to know more about this.”

He points at the bullet on the coffee table. “Starting tomorrow, Compress will test his quirk on the hour, every hour, to see how fast it returns.”

“It won’t return.”

“We don’t know that yet,” Tomura says. He looks around at the rest of you. “Compress’s injury and what happened to Magne won’t go unanswered. But our answer will be the final word. Does anyone disagree?”

There’s silence. Tomura turns away and climbs back onto the kitchen table, assuming the same position as before. You check one last time on your patient, note that he’s shivering, and find a blanket to drape over him. Dabi is peering through your closed blinds, down at the street; Spinner’s sprawled in one of your chairs, lost in thought. Kurogiri is wherever Kurogiri goes when Tomura doesn’t summon him. Now that you think about it, it’s strange that Tomura didn’t summon him for the meeting with Overhaul.

You have questions about that. But as much as your feelings are pulling you in Tomura’s direction, you know rationally that it’s Twice and Toga you need to check on first.

You have a feeling they won’t react well to you checking on them. You’re not their mom or their sister. You head into the kitchen with the excuse of making tea and step carefully around and over them, trying to think of a solid opening line. “If you guys want somewhere to sit, I’ll arm-wrestle Spinner over that armchair.”

“Hey!”

You don’t know why Spinner’s getting wound up. In an arm-wrestling contest between the two of you, you’d almost definitely lose. “Twice likes the floor better. It’s cool and welcoming,” Toga says. She doesn’t open her eyes. “Sorry I said I was your sister.”

“You should have said cousin.” Twice’s eyes are closed, too. “You two don’t look anything alike.”

“I was on the phone. They couldn’t see me.”

“Sister was the right call,” you say. “I only have one female cousin, and she’s a villain.”

“Really?” Toga sits up, interested, and Tomura looks up from the kitchen table. “Why isn’t she in the League?”

“I don’t know that she’s, um, in your league,” you say. “Have you guys ever heard of Gentle Criminal?”

“That guy? I’ve met him! He’s a tool,” Twice says cheerily. “We were locked up in the same holding cell one time. The first time he went to jail it was for trying to be a hero. Your cousin’s with him?”

“Yeah, she’s his sidekick. Or videographer. Or something.” You’re understating it slightly. “I’m pretty sure they’re a thing.”

“Like you and Tomura-kun?”

“Not like that,” Twice disagrees before you can say anything. “The boss is way cooler. Saintess has better taste.”

“Or higher standards,” Toga says. “Or both.”

“What are their quirks?” Tomura asks. He slides down from the kitchen table and comes closer. “Could we use them?”

“I’m not sure about his. Hers – I don’t think so.” Your family thought Manami was quirkless for a while. When her quirk popped up late in primary school, they were thrilled. “None of my family are power types. All their quirks do is change things about other people – like status effects in a video game. My dad can change how people perceive time, so time-out really sucked when I was a kid. My youngest sisters can make people feel the same emotions they feel, which is terrible.”

Tomura makes a disgusted sound. “That’s worse than the twins.”

It’s not great, but on the whole, you’d rather deal with the triplets. “Those are all broad-spectrum. Manami – my cousin – her quirk is a power-up, but it only lets her affect one person. The person she loves the most. So unless her boss’s quirk is something really special, I don’t think they’d be much use.”

That’s true, but only halfway. You don’t want your cousin mixed up with the League. You don’t want anyone you know involved with them. You and Manami were pretty close, since you were the only quirkless ones in the family at for a while, and it was her running away to join Gentle Criminal that inspired you to shake off your parents and follow your own dream. You haven’t talked to her since, but ever since you found yourself a member of the League, you’ve thought about her more than usual. Wondering if she’s happy. Hoping she found what she was looking for, whatever it was. Praying she doesn’t get hurt.

The tea finishes steeping. Green tea. You remember Tomura likes that. You pass a cup to him, then down to Toga, and watch with no small sense of relief as Twice sits up for one of his own. When you look up, you find that Spinner’s come over, too. Once you’ve given him a cup, you call out to Dabi and Compress. “Do either of you want tea?”

Compress says no. Dabi, to your shock, says yes. “I’ll bring it to him,” Toga says. She hops up from the floor, takes the cup you pour, and brings it over to him at the window. When she comes back, she sits on the counter instead of the floor, and she focuses on you. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Seven.”

Toga looks surprised. “That’s even more than me,” she says. “Are you the oldest? You seem like the oldest.”

Not by much, but enough to count. Enough to make sure your childhood ended before it began. “How did you know?”

“Nobody starts out good enough to be a Saintess,” Toga says with a shrug. “You have to learn it somewhere. I’m the oldest, too. But I was never very good at that part.”

You have to learn it somewhere. You’ve never heard someone say that before, but now that you think about it, it’s true. You wouldn’t have gotten so good at keeping things calm, at smoothing things over, if you hadn’t had to. If tamping down your feelings, controlling the negative ones by any means possible, hadn’t been a necessity in your family, you wouldn’t have done it. It’s a personality trait, but not one you were born with. For a split second, you wonder who you would have been if you hadn’t grown up the way you did – and then you realize that you know. The lessons you learned set in before the triplets were born, but long before. The person you would have been is who you were with your best friend.

You push the thought aside. “How many siblings do you have?” you ask Toga. “Did you get along?”

She says yes, which makes sense. She’s outgoing compared to the rest of the League, and just like you learned from your family, she learned from hers. Spinner surprises everybody when he chimes in about his family, too – he’s a middle child, with one older brother and one younger sister. Tomura doesn’t add anything, but that doesn’t surprise you. He stays at the edge of the conversation, listening, and you keep one eye on him and one on Twice. If you wait long enough, you have a feeling Twice will talk about what’s bothering him.

You’re right about that. He speaks up in the next lull in the conversation. “I wish Magne was here,” he says. “She’s the only big sister I ever had.”

It’s quiet for a little while. Twice’s voice is small when he speaks again. “It’s my fault. I brought him there.”

“Nobody blames you,” Spinner says. “He lied. It’s what villains do.”

Nobody steps in to point out to Spinner that he’s also a villain, and something clicks in your head: The League thinks Overhaul is more of a villain than they are. Having seen what Overhaul did, you’re not going to argue. “He lied,” Tomura agrees. “Unless you have a mind-reading quirk we didn’t know about, there’s no way you could have known what he was planning.”

“Big Sis wouldn’t blame you.” Toga pokes Twice in the shoulder with her foot. “So you shouldn’t blame you, either.”

“And she’s still alive,” Tomura adds. “We’ll deal with Overhaul, and then we’ll break her out of wherever the heroes are keeping her. It’s not anything close to over.”

The situation seems like it’s resolving, sort of, and you have other stuff to do. You finish your tea, then make your way out of the kitchen. If you’re going to be responsible for caring for Compress’s injuries, you need to make sure you have the necessary supplies. And there’s blood all over your costume. You should probably change. When you shut the door to your room and peel off the tunic, it sticks to you, which is when you realize that your skin is covered with dried blood, too. It’s all over you, and the sight reminds you of something you wish the memory wipe had cleared away – what happened in the wreckage of Tenko’s house, when you tripped and fell and sprawled out in what was left of a member of his family.

You need to clean up. You need to clean up right now. You strip out of your clothes on the way to the shower, turn the water on hot, and throw yourself in before it’s even started warming up.

The cold water isn’t enough to freeze out the memory, and the hot water can’t burn it away. It’s your turn to throw up in the bathroom, and you do, on your hands and knees in the shower, trusting the water to cover up the sound. Your head is spinning again, between Magne’s death and Compress’s injury and getting shot and getting Magne back and outing yourself as quirkless and getting a new name – a new name, like a villain, like your cousin Manami except you’re all but useless to the villain you serve – and hosting the League for the next three days, and getting shot. You keep forgetting that you got shot. You keep forgetting how it happened.

It’s been clear for a while that you put Tenko above yourself, in a lot of ways. His memory above your sanity. His mission above your integrity. His needs over your pain. But today was the first time you actually put Tenko’s life over your own. Sure, the gun had quirk-canceling bullets instead of real ones, but you didn’t know that when you heard the first shot. You heard the first shot, knew who the second one would be aimed at, and threw yourself in front of him. And you did it without hesitating.

You don’t like thinking about that. You don’t like looking at it, either, once you’re out of the shower, wrapped in a towel and trying to patch it back up. It’s not a bullet hole – more like a puncture wound, angry and inflamed, with jagged red lines emanating from the impact point. You don’t like looking at it so much that you leave dealing with it for last, patching up yesterday’s injuries and getting most of the way dressed before finally facing up to it. You’re just deciding whether to use spray disinfectant or antibiotic cream when someone knocks on the door. “Just a second,” you say, and the door opens anyway. It pisses you off. “Out. If you can’t give me a second –”

The door shuts again, and a moment later, Tenko appears in the mirror behind you. His eyes are fixed on the wound in your shoulder, and without asking, he lifts the supplies out of your hands and gets to work. He does with the Neosporin over the antiseptic spray. In general, you’re pretty stoic about pain, but the spot where the quirk-canceling bullet struck feels like the worst bruise you’ve ever gotten, combined with an ache in your shoulder and arm that almost feel like you’ve got the flu. You flinch from Tenko’s touch. “Careful.”

“Sorry.” Tenko’s hands are barely touching you. It just hurts. Now that you’ve let yourself admit it, you have to admit that it hurts a lot. “This was stupid. Don’t do it again.”

Your stomach clenches. It’s not like you were expecting him to thank you, but – “It was necessary. We’d have been in big trouble without your quirk. And I’m your sidekick. My job is to –”

“Have my back. Help me. Be with me.” Tenko looks up from his work, makes eye contact with you in the mirror. “We’re supposed to win together. You’re not supposed to die for me. I never let that happen.”

Even when you were little, you were a little too realistic for the games you and Tenko played. Sometimes you’d imagine yourselves into a corner you couldn’t see a way out of, and in those cases, you’d try to say your goodbyes – and Tenko never let you. If I can’t save my own sidekick, how will I save anyone else? “Those were just games.”

“And now they’re real. Nothing else has changed.” Tenko’s much more careful than usual as he bandages your shoulder. “Did you get the other ones?”

You nod. And while the two of you are here, he’s got wounds you need to check. You unwrap the bandage without asking, just like he did, and inspect the scratches. For injuries incurred last night, they don’t look so bad, and you pick up into the same routine as before. There’s something almost comforting about the pattern you’ve fallen into with Tenko, of tending to each other no matter where the wounds came from. It settles your nerves, slows down the frantic spinning of your mind. This is why you’re here. To be with Tenko. And you are, so what does the rest of it matter?

You’ve just put the panic in its place when Tenko speaks up. “Don’t do it again,” he says. “Say you won’t.”

“I won’t,” you say. The words roll off your tongue easily enough, but they feel wrong, and it’s not until Tenko kisses you that you understand why. All this time, he hasn’t lied to you. Whether he’s Tenko or Tomura, he tells you the truth. You’ve just lied to him for the first time ever, selling it so smoothly that he can’t help but believe you, and it feels awful.

It’s not the worst part, though. The worst part is that you’re not sorry.

Accidental Boyfriend (Tomura Shigaraki x F!Reader)

Words: 5.5k // mdni (part 1)

Tw: reader's drink gets spiked, college au, heroes and villains are reversed(?), izuku stalks reader, fluff?, accidental dating, tomura's scatching described as a tick and will later be talked about as self harm, autistic!Tomura implied, idiots in love, gamer bf x artist gf, buckle up, (dialog heavy I wasn't feeling like writing well sorry)

Teaser: “I'm your boyfriend duh? I googled how to be a good boyfriend all night and one of the main things is safety and protection.”

It's a short circuit decision. Well, it's no decision at all since you're forced to do something– anything. He looks like he's no trouble… judging by the fact that he is sitting all alone on the couch during a house party just staring at the wall ahead. It is kinda weird. He looks like he might be nice enough though. Blue hair, dressed in a cozy black hoodie and you spot the septum piercing last. You hope. You have to take your chances. You sit down next to him.

“Hey, I know this is so weird and random but can you be my boyfriend? My stalker is right there and won't leave me alone,” you tell him. “I am so sorry to inconvenience you but… I need help for a sec to get rid of him.”

The blue haired guy looks at you and there is no reaction on his face whatsoever. Nothing. Death would be impressed. He just stares up at you with his crimson eyes like you're an abstract painting he doesn't get.

Is he deaf?! Or does he not speak your language?! You turn around to spot Izuku coming closer and your stomach twists. You can run… but if he catches you alone outside what then? No. The guy slings his arm around you, his hand comes to rest on your hip. So he did hear you? You lean into his side. Your heart is pounding so hard but you settle.

“Oh, (Y/N), there you–” He sees the hand on your hip and looks at the figure next to you. His face hardens instantly.

“Hi, Midoriya! Have you met my boyfriend?” You say.

“Y-You are dating Tomura Shigaraki?”

Tomura Shigaraki? Should that name ring any bells? He says it so… so… almost fearfully?

“Piss off,” the boy next to you, Tomura, mumbles through his teeth and you feel your stomach sink watching Izuku shrink. It was so inaudible, barely translating over the party commotion and yet it has Izuku tensed up.

“I am sorry to bother!” He leaves without another word, fists tensing by his side.

Now… Izuku is a big, muscle packed guy and the dude next to you is anything but that. He is lean and about your height? What just happened?

“It's not nice to tell people to piss off like that,” you say and bring some distance between him and you again. He retracts his hand.

“Thought he stalks you? Why be nice?” His voice is like sandpaper. It never raises or changes and stays monotonous just like his expression. You are unable to be read his face. He just is there… existing.

“Fair point--Tomura, was it?”

His eyes stare at you and you can hardly hold his gaze. He looks tired… and should chug about 4 litres of water to rehydrate. “I am (Y/N).”

He doesn't reply.

“Usually you'd say nice to meet you or something,” you mumble after a moment of dead cold silence passes.

“It was not nice?” He mumbles, looking at you… his eyes are cold but also attentive.

Your face reddens. Right. “I am sorry. Thank you! This night is a disaster.” You get up and bow to him. “Thank you again! I am a total bother. I apologize!” You walk a few steps but suddenly feel weird. You rub your forehead and tumble a bit holding onto the couch's backrest. “Why… why do I feel dizzy? I didn't even… drink alcohol… just some soda.” You brush it off and put a smile on your face. “Thanks, Tomura!”

》》》》

“Go low.”

You stir. Your whole body hurts and you feel like someone ran you over. Who is talking?

“Nah… your aim was off. I got you.”

This isn't your bed… it's too messy and smells like the sheets haven't been washed in forever… What happened? You groan as a sharp pain hits your head. Holy shit. You can't be hungover. You remember Shigaraki and them… nothing.

“I'm not turning my camera on. Stop bothering. You have– huh. I'm going AFK.”

You sit up. Gosh is this room messy. Your gaze is naturally attracted to the light spilling in through the gaps in the drawn curtains and that's when you see him. Tomura. He is sitting at his desk, turning in his gaming chair slowly toward you. Your world stops.

“You're finally awake,” he rasps. That same monotonous voice… maybe a bit softer.

Your body floods with panic. You look down on yourself. This isn't your shirt. No. No way. No way in hell.

“I didn't know if I should take you to the cops… the drugs they used should still be traceable if you go now. I googled.”

“W-what?” You stare at him.

Tomura sighs. “That Izuku guy and some of his friends must have spiked your drink or something? When you left the party you could hardly walk straight and they were waiting by the door… so I took you here since I don't know where you live.” He explains it so cooly like it's not a horrible thing to say. But he does know… He just can't show.

You draw short breaths and your lip quivers, tears sprout in your eyes and slowly travel down your tender cheeks. You try to wipe them but they don't stop coming. You are shaking all over. You never thought it would go this far. “Why did you do that?”

“I'm your boyfriend duh? I googled how to be a good boyfriend all night and one of the main things is safety and protection.”

You sniff and chuckle. So he's got jokes after all. “Tomura… thank you for looking out for me,” you sniff.

He shrugs, slouching there in his chair. “You threw up on your clothes… I put them in a trash bag in the bathroom. Just so you know.”

“I am so sorry.”

He shrugs again and itches his neck for a second then sits down on his hands. You definitely noticed the retraining he just practised on himself. “There's some Ramen and water… I have to get back to the game. Is that okay?”

You nod.

Tomura turns toward the desk again and puts the headset on. “I'm back. You guys suck without me.”

You wipe your tears. There is so much to think about. Do you wanna go to the police? Not really. There is no way to prove it was them spiking the drink. You know how this will go. Your head hurts.

You get up and walk to his bathroom. “Oh boy.” You have been to guy's dorm rooms before and they are never clean but Tomura has a problem. You wash your face and then use his electric cattle.

Can you say something?

“I am carrying you again,” he tells whoever he is talking to, clicking on the keyboard. “Stop bothering about the camera. Holy shit. Concentrate on the map.”

He sounds different. The color of his voice… it is more lively. You like it. You walk to the small kitchen area and grimace. Has he done dishes at all since uni started? You don't think so.

You open some drawers and find trash bags and dish soap and, thank the heavens, rubber gloves as well. You look for your phone and find it on the nightstand; plugged in.

He was even mindful enough to plug your phone in? That's sweet. You open Crunchyroll and lean the phone against the top shelf, then you start by sorting through the dishes. Sometimes you let it get this bad too. You don't judge him for it. It is what it is. You are in the zone super quickly, not realizing he approaches.

“You don't have to do that?”

Your body flashes with a current as his aura washes over you. He stands too close. You can feel the soft warmth of his body radiating.

You look up at him. “I know. I want to. Do you mind?”

“Do girlfriends do that?”

What a weird question? You shrug it off. “Well… if their boyfriend struggles then I think girlfriends help and support but a girlfriend is not a mother, of course.”

“I see,” he nods.

“I'm doing it as a thank you. Is that cool?”

“I guess. What are you watching?” He squints at your phone.

“Sugar apply fairytale… it's shojo.”

He nods. His gaze is so intense. You don't know what he wants. You can't read him one bit. Come of it… He reminds you a lot of Shall Fen Shall. “Do you want me to go?”

His eyebrows pinch and he itches at his neck again. “N-no? I don't… mind you being here.”

“Then let me clean to compensate you for all the inconvenience and we call it even and I'll be out of here?” You smile.

Tomura nods. “Do you want headphones? You can barely hear?” He says and mentions to the phone. He opens his backpack and gives you his overhead headphones then returns to his desk.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

You finish the kitchen and remember that you wanted to make tea. Now you have clean cups for that. You get the cattle going again and add a tea bag. You turn to Tomura.

“Shoot, you dingus!” He raises his voice a little. It's followed by a little laugh. You smile.

You push one of the ear cuffs back and step up to him. “Do you want tea?” You smile.

Tomura looks up at you, his eyes are kind of wide and his lips slightly parted. “Y-yes.”

The cattle clicks and you pour the water into the cups.

“Shut up. My girlfriend’s with me.”

Funny. Real comedian.

“Shut up. No… you don't know her. No! I am not making it up! I won't turn my camera on.”

“Hi, Tomura's friend,” you say as you put the cup on the desk. You wink at him and move on to the bathroom.

“I won't tell you. Shut up now. Let's game.”

But somehow Tomura can't really concentrate anymore. He watches the tea steam and takes a sip. “Of course she's cute. She's beautiful. Don't ask me that stuff. Shut up, Spin! I'm logging off.”

“Tomura?” You peek your head out from the bathroom.

“Just shut up!” He presses a button harshly and takes off his headset. “Yes?”

“Do you know that you have to clean your shower?” You ask. It's not accusatory or judgemental. It's a question. “Did anyone show you how to clean? Like your family?”

He blinks. But why… there is water running down the shower… why clean it? He doesn’t understand.

You have your answer. “Give me your tiktok? I will send you some good cleantok videos that explain how it works. That's how I learned it too.”

“Okay. T-thank you.”

He watches how you start to scrub the shower floor. “What are you playing?”

“Mostly fps games,” he shrugs.

Frames per second? What? No… that cannot be it. “Ah. Are you good at it?”

He nods– shrugs. “You could say that.”

You tug your hair back and use his headphones to keep it out of your face. It's really cute. He likes it.

“Are you hungry?” Tomura asks and grabs his phone.

“I mean… yeah.”

“Sushi? I pay.”

“Isn't that too expensive?” You frown.

“No?” He doesn't understand the question.

“Okay?” Is he secretly rich?

You finish up and sit back on his bed with your now lukewarm tea, watching his screen. FPS must stand for first person shooter. You giggle.

“What?” Tomura looks at you. He immediately thinks he did something awkward.

“You said FPS and I study Animation, right, so to me that means frames per second,” you explain.

“Oh,” his lips curl a little. “That is funny.”

“Yeah. What do you study?”

“Business.”

“Oh?” Your face twists in utter surprise. “I didn't expect that. Do you like it?”

“Enough,” he shrugs. “My dad makes me do it.”

“Ah… I understand,” you nod and bring the cup up to your lips. “I hate my dad, too.”

Tomura chokes on his tea and looks at you.

You shrug. “What?” You laugh. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I hate him.”

“Boyfriend–girlfriend bonding,” you go along with the joke.

“Yes,” he smiles a little.

The food is delivered and you watch how he turns one of his screens toward the bed then opens Crunchyroll. He searches for Sugar Apple Fairytale.

“What episode are you on?”

“5.” You watch him closely. He is cute for letting you watch your thing. The boys you dated always whined when you said you love romance anime. You think it's cute. He is cute. In a harmless way. He isn't really your type but Tomura is cute. Are you blushing?!

Tomura starts the episode and sits down next to you. “What is it about?”

“Fairies! It is Grumpy x Sunshine which is one of my favourite tropes!”

You spend a few more hours together, mostly decluttering and then it is time for you to go back to your own dorm. You almost don't want to leave. Something about Tomura's presence is making you feel safe and at ease.

“Thank you again,” you bow to him as you stand in the hallway. “It could have… ended badly.”

“Just give me a call if you need me. You have my number now,” he nods and tries to smile a bit.

“Thank you,” you nod and want to turn away but he leans in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. You freeze.

“Goodbye, gf. Thank you for… the cleaning, you know. I'll do my best to not let it get that bad again.”

“It was the least I could do… bye.”

Oh, the joke may have gone a bit too far now.

》》》》

You are sitting with Ochako scribbling a storyboard for one of your classes. You are telling her all about that night. What Izuku and co probably have done and that Tomura Shigaraki saved you.

“Shigaraki?!” She looks at you, deadpanning. “Holy shit, stay away from him!”

“Huh,” you look up and blink at her. “I just told you that he–”

“He killed his family? You don't know that? And he's kinda famous and has like crazy fangirls I hear. He's also super weird and creepy.”

“Izuku stalks and drugs me and you focus on some rumors and Tomura being– well, nerdy and emo? He is nice.” It fills you with rage. You don't know why. You don't have to be protective of him… he's a stranger. He is not your boyfriend. You really know nothing about him at all… why if he's–. “Let's not talk about it.” What's this about him killing his family? This is ridiculous? You sigh and turn back to the page but the sun gets blocked suddenly.

You look up. “Tomura!” He has the hood of his sweater pulled up over his pale blue hair and he looks even more exhausted than before. His lips are more cracked as well. You honestly just want to give him a lip balm.

“(Y/N), hello,” he nods. “How have you been?”

“Good? What about you?” You smile.

“Yeah.” You notice he avoids the question and instead opens his backpack and gets out a bookstore bag. “Here.”

You frown but take it. Did you forget something at his place? “What is it?” You look inside to find 3 volumes of a manga you have been meaning to pick up for a while.

“The women said it is grumpy x sunshine… so I got it for you,” Tomura rasps. “I read them already so we can talk about it. I have to go to class now.” He awkwardly leans down and presses a kiss to your temple.

Your eyes are the size of the moon in utter shock and your stomach churns. What is going on? What in the world is happening? You stuff your things into your bag and run after him, abandoning Ochako.

“Tomura, hold up!”

“Hm?” He turns.

“What is this about?” You can hardly hear yourself over how loud your heart beats. No you have an idea but… that is so ridiculous.

He blinks and sighs. “I-is it wrong? Did I act wrong? I googled and it said to make your girlfriend gifts and show interest in the things she likes. Do I need to do it differently? Tell me! I'll do better!”

Your stomach sinks as it dawns on you. His jokes… It never was a joke. He does not make jokes. Oh god. He really thinks… he took you seriously? No way. And now he looks at you like a wounded puppy. He is really worked up about it? He is putting in so much effort. How could you possibly crush him?! No. No. You can't do it. Holy shit. How did you get in this situation?!

“No! You are fine! Just–”

“Shiggy, we'll be– Oh, is that your girlfriend? No way… you didn't lie,” a pink haired guy walks up next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Hi, I'm Spinner.”

“(Y/N), hi,” you say.

Tomura blinks at you. Did you want to say something or not? Did he already fuck up? He hates being this way. It is so weird how he got a girlfriend… he didn't think it would happen that way. He does not want to lose you already.

“Let's meet later?” You ask.

“Okay,” Tomura nods.

Oh god. You have to tell him somehow. How do you let him down gently though? You have no idea. You don't know anything about each other. How can he believe that you are dating… this is so strange. But you are so very aware he isn't doing it with any bad intentions… he truly doesn't know better and that makes it so hard to let him know this was never real.

You can hardly concentrate the rest of the day. You come up with every possible conversation starter for telling Tomura that you're not a couple but nothing seems sufficient.

And when you see him waiting for you outside your building, your heart just breaks. Your thinking shifts suddenly. What if you accidentally got a boyfriend? Would that be so bad? He's a cool guy… you'd just have to get to know– no… that just wouldn't be fair at all. It would be a lie… it would be out of pity.

“Hi, Tomura,” you try to smile and sit down next to him. People rush home around you as you sit on the stairs leading to the building.

“Hi.”

“We have to talk,” you say and watch how his eyes darken with sadness. Already? No no no.

“Oh… I read that's what girlfriends say when they break up. No… it's fine. I know I'm…. A degenerate.” It's like you can physically see him become smaller, shrinking. It is sad. You don't have the heart. Holy shit you want to scream. He looks so exhausted – exhausted that it is so hard to connect with people and that no one understands him.

You can't do it.

“Did you spent the last few days researching how relationships work?” You crook an eyebrow at him. He gives a nod. “You're cute.”

“Huh?” His mouth gapes ever so slightly and his eyes widen at you.

“Let's spend some time together tonight?” You ask. “Grab some dinner and do some class work?”

“O-okay?” You are weird but he doesn’t care. He knows he's desperate but he has been thinking about you nonstop. The way you just helped him get his apartment back on track and then also send him resources so he can learn how to clean for himself. Just because you wanted to help him… he can't let it go. It makes him feel so… heard. You didn't scold or judge him. You just helped.

You get up. “Let's just go to the cafeteria?” You are broke as fuck this month and couldn't afford anything else.

“Okay?” If that's what you want.

“Spinner seems nice,” you say. “Is he your best friend?”

“Yeah.”

You puff out some air. He's hard to have conversations with.

“The girl you were with, is she your best friend?”

Oh, a question. “Ochako is my roomie. We are pretty close,” you smile. “My best friend is back home though.”

“I don't have any friends back home,” he chuckles. You look at him worried. Tomura waves his hands and smiles. “Oh, no. I meant that in a… you know… funny way.”

“I see,” you smile. “So, I have heard some things about you.”

Tomura feels his chest tighten. You are still talking to him though so… maybe you haven't heard too much.

“Are you a famous gamer or something?”

“Oh… yeah. I stream and post on YouTube,” he says quietly.

“That's so cool. My bestie does that too. It's crazy how involved people get. So… you have like a fan base and all?”

Tomura nods. “Some of the hardcore fangirls won't like I have a girlfriend now… but I don't have to tell anyone about you yet… right?” He looks at you for confirmation.

You nod instantly, eyes a bit wide. “Wait… just how famous are you? Is that why you didn't want me to see your tiktok?” You frown and move your head closer. He only gave you his number so you had to send him links… you didn't understand why but brushed it off.

Tomura can smell your perfume for a second and nearly trips over his own shoes. You catch him, grabbing his arm. “Watch out,” you smile softly.

Oh, your smile. Tomura feels lightheaded every time. “S-sorry.” Your smile is what really gets to him… you smile so freely. He loves it so much.

“What for? How old are you by the way?”

“22. You?”

“Me too.’

He nods. “So… you're not from here?”

“Nope. I am a whole country gal.”

Tomura smiles subtly. “I see.” You're weird but so cool. He wants to spend every free second with you. Oh damn… does that make him a… simp?! “Do you play any games?”

“Not really but I'm up for trying! Will You teach me?”

“Yes! Sure! Of course! I think I know a game you could like.”

You look up at him and smile. He looks so excited and your stomach churns. Maybe this isn't too bad? You will just see where this goes? Maybe you end up falling for him? Some fake dating plot turning real? Why not… he seems to be fine with the situation as it is right now?

“Oh–”

Tomura grabs your arm and pulls you into his side. You were so focused on his joy that you must have missed someone coming the other way.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Tomura asks.

“Yes… thank you,” you tell him then swiftly turn. “I am so sor– Izuku.”

“(Y/N)! Didn't see you there!” He beams. He always beams and it is such a creepy smile. Izuku makes the hair on the back of your neck stand with fear. It is the first time you see him since the party and your body freezes completely. “Sor–”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tomura barks and steps in front of you. “You did it on purpose, do you think I'm fucking stupid?” He shoves at Izuku.

“Tomura…” You look at him in utter confusion. Not at what he says… he might as well be right. Izuku seems to always be the one you physically bump into… weirdly enough. You are confused about the volume that Tomura's voice can climb to. You didn't expect it. There is so much rage inside of him.

“Wow… call your guard dog back,” Izuku laughs. “I am glad you're fine.” Izuku reaches out to touch your arm but Tomura intercepts the touch.

“Fuck off,” he tells the taller Izuku and Izuku leaves with a last look at you. What a fucking creep?! Tomura saw it. He saw it. How dare he?!

“Tomura?”

Tomura turns to look at you and his stomach sinks. He fucked up now. Oh, he really did fuck it. He shouldn't have done that. Why is he so incapable? Why does he ruin everything?

You watch how his hands fly up to his neck and start scratching violently. You reach your hand out but he backs away.

“I have to go,” he chokes out and hurries into the opposite direction. Running away is better than facing you. He does not want to see you look at him with fear… just like his–

Your body doesn't move for a moment. What are you doing? You are not really dating this guy? Why do you care? Your heart races in your ribcage begging your body to move.

“Tomura!” You run and catch up with him. “Are you okay? What's– oh god– stop!” You grab his wrists. “You're bleeding.”

And then somehow he ends up in your dorm room, sitting on your bed as you gather some band aids. Tomura has no recollection of how he got here. Its a blur. He thinks your hand was holding his. Now he is looking at your manga collection in the soft warmth of fairy lights, smelling clean laundry and your parfum.

“You have a lot of pillows,” he says.

“Yeah,” you shrug.

“I once read that lonely people sleep with more pillows.”

You blink at him. “Okay? You have a lot of pillows too.” You frown and kneel down on the bed beside him. You use a damp cloth first and clean up the dried blood. “What was that about?”

“I don't know… got nervous.”

“Don't lie.”

He looks at you. Everyone else would have run away at how weird he acted. “Aren't you… mad?”

“I am worried? Why would I be mad?” He truly is a mystery. “Are you okay?”

He doesn't answer. You put bandaids on his scratches and sit back. He looks like a wet dog now. Slouching, making himself small and wanting to be anywhere but here. What changed all of a sudden? You are so confused. You want the Tomura back that was starting to get comfortable.

You lean close and place a kiss on one of the bandaids. Tomura jolts back and looks at you bewildered. “Makes it heal quicker,” you say.

“That's not… medically proven, is it?” He rasps.

“It's real,” you smile. “Will you tell me why you got so upset?”

He doesn't get it. Why aren't you upset? You should be upset?! Tomura sighs and drops onto your pillows.

You look at him with a tight frown. He's not your boyfriend… so why… because he needs it? Is that? Your helper syndrome always kicks in at the worst times.

You lay down too, making him the little spoon. Your hands are reluctant, careful, as you sling one arm around him. You feel him stiffen up instantly.

“Is that okay?” You ask.

He nods. “Just… unfamiliar.” He pauses. “But I like it.”

You nuzzle your face into his back. Maybe he's right. Maybe you're terribly lonely… Maybe this is okay. You like it too.

“Izuku did do it on purpose. He always does.” You murmur.

“I… still shouldn't have–”

“I remember what you said at the party. Why be nice to my stalker? Like… duh… why didn't I think of that.”

Tomura snorts. “What? Someone puts a gun to your head and you smile?” Maybe it is because you're from the country side. Maybe you are too nice? Is that possible? Tomura wishes more people would be too nice then.

“Probably.”

He chuckles but gets quiet. “My dad… he doesn't want me to act… like that.”

Like that? Aggressive? Protective? “You protected me… I think that was fair. You said yourself that is what boyfriends are supposed to do.”

Tomura stays quiet. His hand slowly moves to yours and your fingers lock together. He feels so torn. This feels so good. You are so warm and soft and it makes him feel warm and soft for a change… but at the same time it is terrifying. Tomura knows he's not worthy of things like this. Yet…

You squeeze him a little. “Your dad sounds like a dick.”

Tomura laughs. It is a real laugh. He does not know where it comes from and you don't know why it makes your chest feel tight. You pull away and plop yourself on your elbow, looking at him.

“Your laugh is pretty,” you smile.

He blushes and looks away.

“So… the itching is a tick? Do you do something to cope instead of hurting yourself?” You ask.

“Why do you ask that so casually?” He sigh.

You don't understand the question. What else are you supposed to do? It is obvious and it is okay. “It is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I have fidget toys on my keychain.”

“Why didn't you use them?”

“Huh? Because you would have thought I was weird!?” He raises his head to look at you.

“You're already weird,” you say. “That's nothing bad, though? I draw furry porn when I need money… that's weird too. If it keeps you from hurting yourself… Please use them. I won't judge.”

Quiet.

“Can I see?” He frowns.

You chuckle and get your phone out showing him the folder. His jaw drops.

“What the… fuck?” Tomura looks at you.

“Furries pay so well,” you say.

Tomura laughs again. “What else do you draw? Anime porn?”

“Am I so easy to read?” You grin. “My Sukuna porn is very popular.”

“Sukuna?!”

“With the 4 arms.”

“No.”

“Yep.”

“Show.”

“You need to unlock that part of lore first.”

He smiles. “I see.”

Your eyes lock and there is so much softness in the gaze you share. No… he's full of softness. And he wants to let it out, he begs to share it. Your chest feels tight again.

The door clicks open and you both sit up quickly.

“Oh?” Ochako says.

“Hi!” You say and jump off the bed. “Tomura, Ochako. It was an emergency,” you say and grab the first aid kid, putting it back.

Tomura waves at Ochako. “Hi.”

Ochako just grimaces. You frown.

“I should go,” Tomura gets up and takes his bag. “Thank you, (Y/N),” he says and bows to you.

“Yeah? No problem? Will you be okay?” You hurry after him as he walks to the door a bit too quickly.

“Sure. Bye.”

The door closes, leaving you confused again.

“Please, don't bring him here, okay?” Ochako says. “He's not a good guy.”

“What do you mean?” You look at her with squinted eyes. “Like… what? He's–” You sigh. You don't want to fight.

“Is he not leaving you alone after what happened at the party?” Ochako unpacks her bag. “That's scary.”

Huh?! She has never said that about Izuku once and Izuku has been forcing his way into your room before. “No… we wanted to hang out.”

“But you're not for real dating, right?” Ochako looks at you like you're crazy.

Your tongue doesn't work for a second then your phone rings. “That's my bestie. I gotta–” You take your phone and walk outside sitting down in the empty hallway. How will you tell him about this? He will burn you alive. “Yes?”

“Sup, girlie?”

“Too much. I accidentally got a boyfriend.”

“– what?! How do you accidentally get a boyfriend?! Explain that shit to me.”

You tell him the story leaving out some things. You don't tell Touya about the spiked drink. You know he'd raise hell and Izuku would walk out of it with broken bones. “And now… now I kinda think I wanna see where this goes. He's cute… maybe something–”

“Bitch, it's all a lie, tho? Is that fair to him?”

“I get what you're saying but I think I would… I think telling him that I never meant to actually date him and it was just to scare off Izuku… He'd be crushed and discouraged.”

“How the hell did you get in this situation? And why the fuck would you not clear it up? Are you taking drugs or something?”

“I have no idea,” you whine. “You should have come by and dealt with Izuku, I guess.”

“Didn't you say you don't like violence?” His breathy laughs rings.

“I changed my mind. Why be nice to Izuku… right?”

“Oh… ya boyfriend has a good influence on you?”

“Shut up?” You smile. “He's cool. He plays games too. FPS or whatever.”

“Immediate red flag.”

“Oh, cmon. He's nice.”

“I'm your bestie. I have to hate your boyfriend… even if he's just an accidental one. You will have to tell him eventually.”

“I know… I will. I just… I think he needs the safety, you know? Don't worry.”

“Tsk. You have a stalker and an accidental boyfriend… sure I worry.”

“Touya.”

“Gotta log in to my gaming sesh, will you be okay?”

“Yes. Have fun! Oh! Will you like… make a list with gamer abbreviations. Like what is afk?”

Touya laughs and the line goes dead.

You get up and walk back inside and Ochako stands right at the door. You frown, a suspicious feeling washes over you but you brush it off unknowingly of what's to come.

Your phone lights up again. You shouldn't feel so happy seeing his name. But then again… Why not? It's so weird. You didn't think this is how you'd get a boyfriend.

[Tomura Shigaraki, party bf:] good night <3

Long wawy hair..

🥹

Vibe [AU fic] Intro

SUMMARY: You offered to take Shigaraki's virginity. You wondered how he was going to fulfill your sexual appetite. You could tell he was eager to please. You roused something in him, an insatiable man that could not get enough of you. You had Shigaraki so sprung like crazy.

Virgin! Shigaraki/ Thicc! Reader

Virgin! Shigaraki/ Curvy! Reader

18+ readers only

[DISCLAIMER: The characters respectfully belongs to the creator of 僕のヒーローアカデミア Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia, Kohei Horikoshi.

All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of the respective owners. The author of the fanfiction is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.]

MATURE CONTENT WARNING: This fanfiction is intended for mature audiences only.

This story contains explicit adult sexual content. If you are easily offended or are under the age of 18, please leave now. Reader discretion is advised.

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

"Where in the hell is he?" You stepped out of the doors of the lecture hall, tapping your thumb on the keypad to your phone. You checked what time it was on the screen. It was almost the late morning, going into the early afternoon hours.

As your last lecture came to an end that day, you had plans to meet up with your partner for your project that was assigned to the both of you by your professor.

Shigaraki Tomura was the person who you were partnered with. You tried to get a good look at him but his face was mostly obscured by his long, ruffled cyan hair and black hoodie. His head was panned down as his eyes stared at his notebook throughout the entire lecture.

If you were fast enough, you could find him.

Or so you hoped.

But still, you knew that there was a possibility that he couldn't have gotten that far in such a short amount of time. You underestimated his ability to slip away undetected into the crowd. Immediately, you could feel a hint of annoyance begin to grow.

The stress of having demanding courses, running an online side business, working a day job and graduating was getting to you. There was definitely a heavy load on your shoulders. You hardly had any time to sit down and blink your eyes for a lousy few seconds. Your life after graduation would be even tougher as you would be entering nursing school.

One of the few things that brought comfort to you was Spring Break. That was one of your most favorite times of the year. You along with other friends had the money saved up to travel to the Bahamas that year. Things always get wild each and every Spring Break vacation you go on. Just recalling the memories made you blush and a bit wet from time to time.

The previous year was a vacation that you will most definitely hold dear to your heart and your libido. It was full of exhibitionism, voyeurism and non-stop sex marathons day in and day out. You had most of your sexual crusades saved on video in your phone. Once in a while, you like to watch videos of yourself getting fucked as you spend your lone nights pounding yourself with your favorite ribbed dildo.

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

You stopped at a cafe nearby the campus to grab yourself two strawberry cheese Danishes to go. The wait was about three to four minutes. You politely thanked the employees at the cash register and bid them a good day.

As you turned to leave the cafe, your eyes caught the sight of an individual sitting at the corner of the cafe, near the back. It looked like he had chosen that seat so that nobody would bother him, almost as if he was sequestering himself from the other patrons on purpose.

The first thing you noticed about him was his very pale skin. It was almost translucent. He was quite thin as well. He wore an oversized black hoodie that was pulled over his head so that you barely noticed his tousled locks of cyan hued hair.

You immediately recognized him from class. What a relief that you were able to find him without going through any kind of extensive searching and scouring around the entire campus. All of his attention was towards his phone that he had in his hand. He was so immersed in the screen that he did not even notice that you were walking towards him.

"Oh! Thank goodness I found you." You sighed, feeling at ease. "You left before I had the chance to talk to you. I wanted to discuss the group project that we were assigned earlier." You clutched your books against your chest. A cute taupe pleather purse was strapped to your shoulders with your pastries safely wrapped inside of it.

His head shot up as soon as he heard your voice. It took one second to gather your thoughts when his eyes met yours. You hardly saw a person with scarlet eyes before. You wondered if he wore contact lenses or if those red eyes were his natural eye color.

"Hmm? Oh yeah. I almost forgot about that." The blue haired young man muttered under his breath before turning his attention back to his phone.

You noticed how standoffish he was but it wasn't a personal snub towards you. He displayed the same behavior towards everybody he crossed paths with.

You were concerned about his flippant attitude towards the project because it would count for a huge chunk of your grade. It was important for you to graduate with an excellent GPA.

"So, you almost forgot about it? Well, I'm already stressing out about it and it's hardly been thirty minutes since class was dismissed. I need to pass the course with flying colors. I'm a senior. This is my last semester here. I graduate this coming May. I am going for my bachelors and after, I'm planning on going to nursing school to become a registered nurse." You explained to him, tucking a lone strand of hair behind your ear. He did not budge when he heard your statement.

"If you don't mind me asking, what year are you in?" You asked Tomura in an attempt to make small talk. Creating a sense of familiarity through constant communication was an excellent way to build a healthy partnership with another person. You genuinely wanted to get to know him. It was important that you were able to break the ice with him.

Tomura, on the other hand, felt the opposite. His prejudgments and assumptions lead him to believe that you were like all of the other ditzy whores running around campus. He was certain that you were trying to exploit him for resources or his intelligence. You seemed like the type. Otherwise, why would a pretty lady like you be talking to him? The bitter raging cynic in him told him to put all his emotional walls up around him.

"Sophomore." Tomura simply stated.

He really did not notice you in his class but he really did not notice anyone in general. His main focus was getting the course material, taking the necessary notes and then leaving before anyone had the chance to speak to him. He tried his best to avoid socializing because that was definitely not his strong suit.

However, that did not stop him from observing you from head to toe.

Plump glossy lips, doe shaped eyes, long thick wavy hair and hourglass shape? Even though you wore loose fitting hospital scrubs, your curves were still noticeable, especially your backside. Your ass was nice and round and your thighs were another story. They were thick and juicy. You were a whole snack.

You took a seat and sat in front of him. You had a few minutes to spare before your shift at the University's hospital were to start. "I don't mean to bug you but, I would just like to know our general plans for the project. We could worry about the details later."

Tomura's was so relieved that the project did not have any speaking parts. That part was optional. "Well, you don't have to worry about that. I'll do 90 percent of the work if that's what you want."

You frowned slightly at his assumption of you being lazy. The man did not know you from a can of paint. If he walked a mile in your shoes for just one day, he would know how much of your schedule consisted of non-stop work day in and day out. There was an itch inside of you that wanted to give him a piece of your mind and set him straight.

Tomura definitely lacked a lot in the personality and the socialization department. You wanted to be mature about this and find a way to reach some kind of middle ground with him.

"Listen." The tone in your voice was much stern than before but you were able to remain calm. "I really want to contribute to the project. I would feel like a failure if I just let you do all the work yourself. This is supposed to be teamwork. I'm willing to work with you if you would just give me a chance." As you finished your statement, you sat up straight and crossed your arms.

Tomura just blinked his eyes and observed your body language. His curiosity about you began to grow. There was something about the way you showed your confidence when it came to voicing your needs and expectations.

"I guess we could work together if you're willing to do your share. You seem genuine enough." He gave a stiff nod of approval.

"What makes you think that I wasn't being genuine in the first place?" Your tone was a bit softer.

"I don't feel like explaining myself but, women in the past usually left most of the workload up to me and just pretended as if I did not exist once they got what they wanted from me…" He explained with a hint of bitterness in his tone. It made him angry just recalling what happened in the past.

"So, you just assumed that I was going to do the same thing to you? Is that it?" Your eyes narrowed a bit, trying to remain sympathetic towards him.

"To be honest? Yes." He bluntly answered, crossing his arms.

"Well, I'm not like them." You rolled your eyes at his subtle hostility. "Not all women are the same just like all men aren't the same. I believe in the philosophy of 'treat others how you would like to be treated'. Like I said before, I'm willing to work with you if you're willing to cooperate with me."

"Ah. Smart, genuine and pretty. I don't see any of your types around here too often." Tomura tossed you a snide smirk your way.

"Trust me; there are plenty of women who are very beautiful and kind hearted out there in the world. It would not hurt to step outside more and socialize." Then, you checked your phone for the time. You had about two minutes before you had to leave for work.

Tomura made a grunt of annoyance and checked his phone too. He did not want anyone to tell him what to do or where to go. He absolutely hated going outside, not to mention his socializing skills were terribly weak, almost non-existent. He spent most of his free time cooped up in his dorm gaming and studying.

You quietly observed Tomura as he took his free hand to scratch his nails onto the flesh on the side of his neck to satiate the irritating itch that was bugging him ever since you began speaking to him.

It was apparent that he was dealing with some personal issues that had him in the state that he was in. Everything from his skin to his physical stature was in need of some positive modification of care. You wanted to give Tomura some advice on how to improve his physical health but, you decided that it would be best to keep your comments to yourself. That did not stop you from being concerned for him. It seemed like he could use a positive influence in his life. He could use a person who could help him get out of his shell.

However, you could definitely be of some assistance when it came to his skin care. Most of his exposed flesh looked so dry and flaky, especially around his mouth.

"I noticed that you have the habit of scratching your neck. Is there anything wrong? Is it a rash?" You asked Tomura.

"Um…" Tomura's eyes darted downwards, focusing on his foot as he tried his best to avoid making eye contact with you. It was evident that he was ashamed of his habit. "It's kinda…hard to explain."

Your observation wasn't meant to be taken as scorn or criticism against him and you wanted him to know that. "Sweetie. I would highly suggest that you stop because your skin could get infected or you might give yourself a permanent scar around that area. I could give you some of my custom made home remedies for skin care. They're all handmade and mixed by me. I usually sell them online just to make some extra cash on the side."

Tomura kept quiet as he glared at you with suspicion.

"Don't worry. It's not a pyramid scheme and I'm not trying to recruit you into anything. I am the boss of my own side business and I work for no one but myself. No one is working above me or beneath me. I am the sole proprietor. As a matter of fact, I will give you some of my products free of charge." You assured him with a friendly smile.

Tomura did not know what to think about your kind gesture. It really confused him for a moment and he had trouble finding proper words to say to you. "Oh really? I mean, you really don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to, but I want to." You reassured him, placing a hand gently on top of his. You wanted to show him that you meant well by him and that you actually cared for him.

This was a VERY rare occurrence of a beautiful woman showing enough interest to even help him with anything. You were so kind and patient towards him.

However, a hint of cynicism kept prodding his thoughts.

Then…

Those cynical thoughts spiraled and led him to accusing you of feeling pity for him as if he was a sad charity case that had no hope in life. Afterwards, there came a flood of self defeating thoughts. Those thoughts usually held him back from moving further in life as far as relationships and friendships were concerned.

This was feeling a bit too intense for him at the moment. He needed the time to process the events that just took place.

"I will let you know if I need anything." He stated in a curt tone.

You had the feeling that he was overwhelmed so you decided to leave him alone to have his space. Besides, it was time for you to head off to work anyway.

You stood up from your chair and bid him a good day. "Okay. I'll see you next week."

Tomura meekly waved at you and watched you leave the cafe. His scarlet eyes noticed how your hips and ass swayed from side to side as you walked out. He thought your little stroll was the sexiest thing he has ever seen so far. It had a natural seductive rhythm to it.

That was a vision that would certainly linger in his mind before he fell asleep tonight. It was the image that will be the cause of him waking up the next morning with his legs and thighs covered in his own cum.

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

One week later….

You stood by the door of the lecture hall with your thumbs tapping away at your phone, waiting for class to start. Class would not start for another twenty minutes but you always liked to arrive earlier than expected. Your business e-mail was absolutely clogged with different requests, special orders and warehouse inventory related messages. It would take you forever to reply to all of them but, you had to pace yourself so you won't get so overwhelmed to the point of burning yourself out.

"So…you're quite early today."

Tomura's voice snapped you out of your little busy mental bubble.

"Oh. Hey there." You giggled quietly, your mind still preoccupied with your e-mails. You managed to rapidly tap out in the last reply to one of your messages before you gave your full attention to your classmate.

"I'm sorry if I seem distracted. Work is piling on me. I can't catch a break to save my life." You tried to laugh off the stress. A long nap was calling your name once you had the chance to reach your apartment that night.

"It seems like you have a lot on your plate." Tomura sighed, slowly taking a step towards you.

"I do. Lord, give me the strength." You looked up towards the ceiling and clasped your hands together before piteously giggling.

He just chuckled. He found your humor to be cute. It only intrigued him more.

"Um…" He began, but went silent.

A few awkward seconds of silence followed. He cursed himself for not being able to have enough balls to continue the rest of the conversation.

"How was the rest of your week?" You asked him.

"It was alright…I guess. I managed to gather some useful source material for the research part. Now, I just have to begin the written report."

"Oh? I was thinking that I could take care of that part."

"Are you sure? I don’t want to put any more workload on you. You seem really busy with other important things, especially with your other classes and your jobs." He scratched the back of his head, looking down at his own sneakers. He avoided making any eye contact for more than a second.

"Ah. That reminds me. Would it be cool if we could trade phone numbers?" You prepared your thumb to tap his number and confirm it into your contact list.

He felt shocked that you asked him for his number first. Then again, phones are the easiest way to keep in contact with anyone in this day and age. Besides, he did not want to read too much into your request. He reminded himself that this exchange was for academic purposes, not for anything personal nor romantic. "Yeah. Sure."

You called him to make sure your number appeared on his screen. It did and he proceeded to save your number with your name in his own contact list.

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

An hour and a half later…

After class, you two agreed to meet up in the library to discuss the project in much greater detail. During that time at the library, Tomura felt more at ease working with you but his nervousness was still there. Your aura was so friendly and inviting which made it easier for him to become more engaging with you as time went on. It made it a comfortable environment for him.

In some instances, his mind dozed off and he stared at your face. You were so pretty to him. He zeroed in on your lips whenever you spoke.

They were so soft…

So supple…

He wondered how they would feel wrapped around his cock. Very dirty and sordid thoughts swirled around his mind and they did not stop. They just got filthier and filthier by the second.

Damn. What would it look like to see you beg for him to fuck you after he finished painting his cum all over those sexy lips of you?

Then, his mind as well as his eyes drifted towards your breasts. On that day, you wore a tight spandex long sleeve shirt with a bit of cleavage showing with a pair of tight denim jeans that complimented your hips, thighs and ass very well.

Would you beg for him to splatter his thick cum all over your gorgeous breasts? One could only imagine. How would your ass feel once you made yourself comfortable in his lap? It would feel so soft and warm. Yes it would. He decided it would feel soft and warm.

You noticed Tomura practically leering at you and you had to constantly remind the young man to stay focused on the project.

Of course, he would incessantly apologize for losing sight of the important task at hand. You forgave him but sternly warned him to pay attention to the project. He would gladly obey your instructions. There was something really enticing with the way you would take charge and give orders.

Your stay lasted for about an hour before you decided to call it a day.

Your partner just leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms before giving out a large yawn. “Fuck, man. I can’t wait till this project is done and over with. I hate class projects. I really hate working with other people because they annoy me so much.” He recited that statement with a tired sigh.

“Do I annoy you?” You gently smiled at him. “Maybe, I should be next time.”

“I’m just pleasantly surprised at how smooth things went today. I really enjoyed working with you and that’s not something that I usually tell anyone.” He scratched his neck again.

“Oh? Is that so?” You arched an eyebrow up in curiosity. You wanted him to elaborate and you waited for him to do so.

Tomura almost flinched when his hand was gently pulled away from his neck and nestled in yours. Your hand felt so soft and you smelled so sweet. Then, he recalled what you told him the other day about quitting his habit of scratching. The gesture you just displayed was a reminder to him to stop. Your thumb caressed the top of his hand.

“Well…yeah.” He stuttered. His heartbeat picked up a bit. You made him so nervous. At the same time, he felt a sense of comfort. Your presence gave him a feeling of solace. It was so confusing to him.

“I have something to give you.” You turned your back to him for a minute to retrieve an item from your purse. It was a brand new tube of lip balm. Specifically, it was one of your custom made lip balms. The packaging was simple yet appealing. It had your own company logo on it.

You removed the protective plastic tamper seal of the small tube and turned the knob before slowly applying the smooth balm all over his lips. Every ingredient was natural. The ingredients were: Beeswax, Shea butter, Peppermint, Coconut Oil, Cocoa Butter and Vitamin E. The topical salve provided maximum conditioning and healing moisture to the skin.

“This is one of my balms that I made myself. There are many more flavors that I have in stock. I am going to give you some of my products the next time we meet.”

As you applied the balm, you noticed that there was a small mole near his chin. Many people regarded that mole as a 'beauty mark'. It really did fit him really well. "You're so cute. You know that?"

Tomura just blushed before he let out a chuckle to ease the tension. “Thanks. I guess.” The sensation on his mouth felt really odd to him at first but it soothed every parched and cracked crevice of his lips. That balm was quick to do its job. "It's pretty good. You actually made this yourself?" He rubbed his lips together, getting used to the tingling taste of the peppermint. His lips felt smoother than before.

"Yes, I sure did. I enjoy creating my skin care line. It's quite a lucrative field for me." You placed the tube in his hand before wrapping his fingers around it. "Take it. It's yours. Free of charge."

"Thanks. You're really kind. I usually don't care about any of this cosmetic bullshit. I normally don’t make a fuss about my appearance. I just don't see the point." Tomura just shrugged. He did practice basic daily hygiene rituals such as showering and brushing his teeth but, that's the most he's ever done.

"Well, I believe that you deserve to feel comfortable in your own skin. I think you're handsome and you have potential." You gave him a reassuring smile before checking the time on your phone.

"Oh! I need to get going now. I promised my friend that I would meet with them for dinner tonight." You packed up your things and stood up from your chair.

“So, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks? We could meet up after class to discuss the final draft of the report. Is that fine with you?” He asked you. If he were to be honest, he thought it was way too soon for you to part ways with him. It would be nice if you were able to stay with him and hang out a little while longer.

Or overnight.

In his bed.

Or him in your bed.

With your soft thighs wrapped around his waist.

He did not feel one ounce of shame when it came to his fantasies about you. You were really tempting him and it was not fair. If he had the opportunity, he would pounce on you in a heartbeat. And once he was done drilling you into the mattress he would empty his balls inside of you, filling you up with his warm thick cum that you so rightfully deserved. He would not let one drop go to waste. All of it would be inside of you, gushing into your womb. He’ll cum inside of that heavenly pussy over and over again.

“That sounds good to me. I’ll text you if I need anything before then.”

“Cool. I’ll see you later. Thanks for the balm. I’ll make sure to use it every day.” He gave you a small smile, showing his appreciation. Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead, feeling so much tension in his pants at the nonstop explicit thoughts that keep rattling in his mind. He prayed to God that you didn’t notice the small bulge that was underneath his jeans.

You did notice but you kept quiet. It was flattering to you that he found you so visually appealing enough that he was about to bust in his pants. “You’re welcome, babe.” You leaned over the table to pet him on top of his head. You made sure that Tomura could get a nice view of your cleavage.

If he didn’t know any better, you were trying to entice him. The pet name was a clear indicator of that.

You sensed that he was ogling and eyefucking you every time you walked away, had your head turned or became distracted by something else. Your suspicions were correct. It was then that you concocted a sneaky plan for the next time you were to meet up with him. This was a sexy game that you were willing to play. A game that you would for sure win.

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

Two weeks later…

You spotted Tomura sitting in the student lounge flipping through the pages of one of his text books. You sat next to him on the plush cushion couches. "Hi darling." You greeted him with a sweet, gentle tone.

There weren’t that many people around at the moment except for one or two other people besides you. They were sitting at the other side of the lounge. You made yourself comfortable once you took a seat on the previously vacant spot next to him on the sofa. Maybe a little too comfortable.

"Hey." He slightly blushed at the affectionate pet name.

Tomura’s eyes widened at your choice of outfit. It wasn’t anything too revealing. All you wore was a white tank top and light blue jeans. It was a pretty simple outfit but it was so tight on you, tight in all of the right places. Your cleavage was much more noticeable. If you were to give a slight tug down at your neckline, those tits would just spill out in front of him with little to no effort at all.

You wore that shirt on purpose. You most certainly had his undivided attention. He was wrapped around your little finger.

“I’m sorry that I disappeared after class. I had to use the restroom.” You yawned, outstretching your arms as you did so.

He tried so hard not to gawk at you in front of your face. “Don’t worry. I wanted to get myself something to drink before we met anyway. I’m just glad that you received my text. I apologize for the sudden change for the meet up location.”

“It’s alright. Thanks for letting me know. I really wasn’t in the mood to play cat and mouse today. But, I’m glad I caught you.” You let out a small purr while gently clawing at his hoodie collar.

He gulped. A large lump slid down his throat as he swallowed. His body temperature rose a bit. He wasn’t used to being teased by any woman. It was hard to find his words at the moment.

You felt sinisterly playful on that particular day. “So, do you have the final draft with you?” Your breasts were pressed against his arm.

“Um…Yes. I do. I have a copy of it here with me. You can keep it so you could add your part in. We should compare notes and perhaps you could rewrite the report with your part included. I’ll send you another copy in an attachment through e-mail. Then, we should be good to go.” He stated, trying his hardest to remain composed in your presence.

You were about to make things so difficult for him.

Were your nipples hard?

They definitely were.

They poked out like pebbles underneath that white stretch fabric of your tank top.

“Thank you. You’re so sweet. You’re such a gentleman. Any woman would be so lucky to have you as her man.” You had a sultry smirk on your face.

“Well. I wouldn’t say that. I never had a woman to call my own. I don’t think that will ever happen in this lifetime.” He nervously scratched the side of his neck. This was so embarrassing for him.

"So wait. You mean to tell me that you have never been intimate with another person before?" You asked.

He was hesitant to answer that question for many reasons. One main reason was that he would face harsh judgment. "Um…well…no. No I have not."

"Aww~ Aren't you adorable?" You teased him as your fingers gently flicked and tugged the zipper of his hoodie. This was too good to be true. The hunt was much more delicious. You were like a lioness, on the prowl for her next capture. This one was about to be sweet and juicy.

Once again, Tomura's body temperature slowly rose to a higher temperature when he felt you tinkering with his collar and zipper. His pants were feeling a bit tight around his loins. Those pale cheeks of his had a faint pink tint to them and the tint only deepened when your face moved closer to his.

"What's stopping you?" You asked.

"I always had trouble getting a girl's attention."

"You have my attention." You winked at him. Then, you crossed your legs and leaned closer next to him.

Tomura just froze in place. ‘What the actual fuck ?!’ He sipped his coffee quickly, to keep himself from speaking.

"Well, you know. It would be such a turn on if I were to take IT from you. Would you let me be your first time?"

"Wait―WHAT?!" Tomura damn near choked on his hot caffeinated beverage when he heard your offer.

"I can see the look in your eyes. So can you. I know you want me." You cooed to him.

Tomura felt like the luckiest guy in the world at that moment. A beautiful woman who is willing to take his virginity and was so eager about it as well? He felt like he hit the jackpot.

"I'm going to have so much fun with you." You pressed your chest up against his. Both of his crimson eyes widened while his Adams apple bobbed from a harsh gulp. He thought this entire moment was unreal. This was too good to be true.

Both of your hands pressed on his chest. "We can indulge ourselves with some red wine. Some restraints and body oil and we can have ourselves an evening." You gripped his collar and roughly yanked him so his nose was touching yours. A hiss sharply escaped between your clenched teeth.

He felt like he was about to combust. His face was completely red. He just wanted to melt away from reality. He never knew how to flirt back because he never had the opportunity to. Most women did their best to avoid him as they considered him a weirdo.

You pouted. "What's wrong, darling? You look like a cherry. Is everything alright?"

He sputtered and mumbled. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just—Are you sure? Do you really want to? Us? Together?” His eyes darted everywhere. His palms were so sweaty.

"Follow me to the parking lot. I want to 'show' you something." A devilish smirk stretched your face.

This was about to be good.

Notes: That's it for first chapter. I hope everyone enjoyed it. I originally posted this fic back in 2021 on my Ao3 page. I'm still in the process of writing the next chapter. Should I continue this?

i can’t wait…

i can't wait to publish my smut of Tomura x reader TvT but a voice in my head told me that's its gonna be a huge flop

Tw: mdni!!!!, kinda religious imagery I guess, PLF!tomura (calling him king and Shigaraki-sama), f!reader, makes you squirt for the first time, overstim, creampie, drabble

Devotion.

That's what it is.

When you lay beneath your king, it is a form of worship. It is loyalty.

Tomura kisses your temple and hums against your neck. Nothing feels quite like your snug walls sucking him in. The warmth, the closeness and trust.

His hands roam your body, grope at your tits and hips. He could kill you and you'd thank him. He loves that. He loves that you're not scared. He could do nothing wrong in your big doting eyes. To you, he is a savior. Usually, you look up at him but today your eyebrows are pinched and those beautiful eyes squeezed shut.

"Tomura."

He nearly misses it, his eyes widen and his lips part. You don't see his confusion too preoccupied with feeling his cock drag against your sensitive spot.

"Tomura. Tomura!"

You never called him that before. Gosh, you must be really losing it. It was always Shigaraki-sama like there is some professionalism remaining between you and him when he sees you entirely unfiltered like this nearly every night.

"Tomura," you whine and your back arches off the mattress, your nails leaving red lines down his arms. Every drag of his thick length lands right against your g spot. Not a single thrust misses today. You can't handle it. Your mind is melting.

"Am I hitting the spot?" He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your cheek softly. It is so contrasting.

You nod and sob. "Too much. S'too much. Gonna squirt– m'gonna squirt if you don't stop–"

Tomura's eyes gleam. "Why would I stop?" He whispers against your ear, kissing the shell of it and making you squirm. His hips slow, but only to pound with more precision, to pound harder into your special spot. You cry out.

"No, no, please." You heave. Your breaths become desperate gasps, your hands try to find something to steady with. "It'll make such a mess– I'll make such a mess, my king. Stop."

Tomura groans. You are so unbelievably adorable. He takes your hands, locks your fingers together and pins them down. He kisses you again even softer.

"I don't care about messy," he chuckles. "I order you."

You moan and tear your eyes open, searching for crystal clear confirmation in his. He kisses your lips, then your nose.

"Make a mess for your king, pretty."

And if he orders you, you really have no say. You do what Shigaraki-sama tells you to do. Gladly and with love. It's the only salvation you know. To serve him is to be blessed, to find meaning. You atone. And you sin. You are forgiven. All at once.

You breathe shakily, lips quivering. You want to pull him closer but he has other plans and kneels back to better see where your bodies are joint.

You babble and whimper. Clench around him and Tomura's senses are sharp like never before. You are squirming, ripping at the sheets and shaking your head from one side to the other. Your body is trying to fight it while also losing all and every control.

And then, all your devotion becomes tangible as it spills from you in the form of a warm, clear liquid. It is not quite like in porn, spraying all over - though he is sure you could do that too. It flows like an abundant stream; your love and devotion visualized and Tomura bathes his throbbing cock in it.

"Shit–" he pushes back in, your gummy walls now tighter than before. "Do it again." He says and flips you over. You hold onto his neck for dear life. He thrusts up into you and it only takes a few times for the fountain to spring again.

"Fuck," Tomura moans and leans back, losing himself in the feeling of the warm liquid running down his thighs. It is so hot, so much. The smell is sickly sweet. "Holy shit." He pants. "One more, cmon."

You wince and shake your head, you can hardly breathe. "Can't Can't Can't."

"Please," he pouts and kisses you tenderly again, travels pecks down the curve of your neck and shoulders. "Please, baby. Just one more."

He thrusts up, angling you in the right position. Your mouth is opened, your head thrown back but you make no sounds. You are rendered incapable to even hold yourself upright.

Tomura pounds up into your swollen hole until you cry out desperately. You claw at him, feeble, you are so weak, so spend.

"There you go, heh," he husks. "Make a mess." And you do. For your king. "Fucking hell."

Tomura finds it mind-boggling himself. The feeling of the heated liquid running down his skin, seeing it gush from your pussy, the way you can't control your body and how he is at fault. He loves it. It is something he can easily get addicted to. 

He cums too, deep inside your abused cunt, making even more of a mess. You'd usually say thank you but today he lets it slide.

He kisses you softly, lovingly – devoted to you just the same.

"New favorite thing unlocked," he heaves, letting out a manic chuckle, placing his lips to your shoulder. His hands caress your trembling thighs. They are shaking like crazy. It's so hot.

You whimper in acknowledgement. It's all you can do. You try to close your arms around him but you have no strength left. "I love you," you whisper, closing your eyes.

Tomura smiles, satisfied. "I know."

He is your king of course.

guys i dont think its a bit anymore

doodles i did in art stream a few days ago for later fic stuff

also: dream lamb/narinder