Hear Me Out. Shiggys Captive Gf Tries To Escape So He Punishes Her By Ruining Her Poor Lil Butthole
Hear me out. Shiggys captive gf tries to escape so he punishes her by ruining her poor lil butthole
Oh my GOD I love this. I don't know what my fucking deal is today but I am seriously SERIOUSLY just loving the degradation and dominance of him fuckin' you square in the ass when you’re all squeamish and meek about it. I had a few other ones I was gunna try to do first but I am feeling it today.
tw for the standard stuff: Noncon, Dubcon, assplay, bondage, kidnapping, abuse mention, manipulation, general rudeness, etc.
You yank and pull at the bonds that keep you tethered to the headboard, but the rope finds no mercy for you, offering no slack as you desperately attempt to thrash your arms free. Stomach pressed against the filthy mattress, you writhe and kick. It digs into your hands, tearing sores into the delicate skin that covers the bones in your wrist. You can scream and shout and throw your little tantrum, but the binds don’t have the capacity to show leniency, much like the sentient things that dwell in this building where he holds you captive.
None of them investigate your cries for help. Those that did never lasted long.
Tears of frustration bead in the corner of your eyes, breathless and aching in your useless act of defiance. It was your last little display of rebellion that landed you here in the first place.
He’d grown complacent around you, or at least you’d thought he had. Kissed you all too tenderly on the temple before leaving you alone in your cell, hands left free for the first time in months. You’d pondered briefly if he believed you tame now, wondered if he thought he had managed to subdue your rage as you slipped the confines of your prison.
It was a simple task. Far too simple. Had you been more observant, perhaps you might’ve noticed the mischievous glint to his eyes as he had locked the door, the slight grin that tugged at his lips.
But you were feral in your hope, so terribly reckless in your pursuit of freedom. A smarter girl would have waited. A more clever one have wondered why his demeanor had changed so suddenly.
But months of his forced affections had left you starved and broken, so eager to feel the sun on your face and the precious autonomy of moving about the world without the leash he kept for you pulled so taut you would could suffocate. You’d acted far too rashly, and he would punish you for it. That’s all you were certain of.
Your heart drops as the door to your cell swings open, hinges creaking so slowly it makes you want to scream. He’s a theatric at heart, loves to leave a lasting impact. Each footstep carefully timed, precise movements calculated to ensure lasting terror. As he comes to stand so closely you can only hear his breathing, the silence fills you with dread. A shiver wracks your spine as you hear him sigh, breaking the quiet and as he tuts you dramatically.
“And here I thought we’d moved past this.”
His hands graze your calf, slowly moving up to your thigh before stopping just short of the curve of your ass. He studies you, paralyzed in fear and pulled apart to his liking, and you swear you can hear him shudder in some twisted form of anticipation. An ill omen of things to come.
“I guess you just aren’t ready yet.” His cold, lithe fingers toy with the seams of your threadbare panties, pulling them down just enough that you wiggle in defiance. “I don’t enjoy punishing you like this, you know.”
‘Yes you do!’ The accusation seethes behind your tongue but you’ve learned better of it. He’s quick to strike you down in your fits, any semblance of disrespect swiftly culled. Last time you spoke out of turn, it landed you with a fat lip and a swollen cheek, his tongue licking the blood from the open wound on your mouth. it’s best to save your energy for whatever is to come.
Your panties find their way to your knees courtesy of him, the harsh yanking motion enough to jerk the mattress. Despite how many times he’s seen the intimate parts of you, you still clench your eyes in embarrassment when he reveals you. He palms the fat of your ass, kneading his fingernails into the plump skin hard enough it hurts. He’s breathing too hard despite having barely touched you, pulling your cheeks apart despite how you wiggle to lurch yourself free.
“I guess I just have to put you in your place again.”
One of his hands keeps you pried open, the other lifting to his mouth. He wets two of his digits between his tongue, letting his saliva gather thick on his skin before sliding them down your crack, positioning them just short of the puckered hole above your pussy.
“Wait, no- Tomura, please, don’t! I’m sorry!”
He laughs, sinister and cruel, tapping the pads of his fingers down as you clench. “You’re going to want to relax. It hurts less that way.”
A thin finger slides in, wiggling past the first ring of tight muscle and slowly works itself deeper inside your cavity before pulling out and repeating the action. It’s uncomfortable bordering on painful, but no matter how much you worm in his grasp, he doesn’t relent. Before long, he slithers his other finger in alongside the first, scissoring ever so slightly.
“You should be grateful I’m trying to loosen you up after how you behaved. I could fuck you dry, you know.”
You only whimper in response, teeth digging into your bottom lip in an effort to ease the tension, trying to focus on anything but the sensation of him prodding all too deeply inside of you.
“I was going to use toys to make this nice and easy at first, but those are for girls who obey me.” He pushes in as far as he can before turning his hand and pumping in and out once again.
It hurts, and you’re far too aware that if his fingers cause this level of discomfort, things will only get worse when he decides he’s done trying to prepare you to take him inside.
“Please! Don’t! I’ll be good! I promise!”
Your begging falls on deaf ears. Somewhere deep down, you know he’s lying. He’s been waiting for this for a long time, almost shoved his cock there many times before but hesitated and decided better of it. He orchestrated the perfect scenario, one you couldn’t resist. He’d set you up to fail, and like a rat in a cage, you’d fallen for it so easily. He enjoys his little games, loves giving you hope only to yank it away and punishing you for even considering it.
“That’s what you said last time.” He tries to add a third finger, chuckling at your low whimper. “I don’t like lying little whores.”
Your nails dig into the soft of your palms, embedding so deeply that you’re surprised the flesh hasn’t ripped. Anything to keep your mind off of what’s to come. Your mind rapidly files through things you can say or do to appease him, things he seems to enjoy. He likes when you humiliate yourself for him, when you throw yourself into pretending that you love him as much as he is obsessed with you.
“T-Tomura, my love-” You swallow back the stem of tears, quickly wiping the few escapees on the dirty mattress beneath you. “I’m sorry. I won’t try to escape again, I promise. I get confused sometimes, but I know you love me. I love you too, you don’t have to punish me.”
He pauses, slowing the movements of his fingers before withdrawing them from you completely and pulling away.
You almost heave an audible sigh of relief, but it’s short lived. He swings one leg over you, straddling your backside on his knees before leaning forward to whisper in your ear.
“I told you to relax. Don’t make this harder on yourself than it needs to be.” He hisses, hand brushing the cleft of your bottom as he undoes his zipper. Your crying begins anew, thrashing in an attempt to buck him off of the back of your thighs.
He’s accustomed to your outbursts, easily able to stabilize himself as he frees his cock from the confines of his pants. He doesn’t bother pulling them down all the way. reaching instead into his pocket to pull out a small packet. He rips it with his teeth, using one hand to massage the liquid onto his rapidly hardening prick, the other smearing the excess around your opening and prodding you again with his thumb this time.
“Shh-” He hushes you, stroking your hair as he brings his cock to sit right at your backdoor entrance. His gentle gesture is contrasted directly by the malevolence in his voice, blatantly mocking you. “You might even like it, huh? Might even beg me to fuck you here again.”
He doesn’t give you time to respond, pushing his hips forward and beginning to press his dick against the resistant cavity. Your sniffles and cries garner you no sympathy, he only hold himself steady as the tip slips past the first ring and slowly pulses his hips to break down the resistance of the ultra-tight walls. You can’t help but wail every time he inches further inside of you, each centimeter of his length burrowing deeper and deeper into your ass with every teasing little maneuver.
“Shit- So fucking tight here too! I knew you would be.” He laughs, almost gasping. “Is it your first time being fucked here?”
You don’t answer, don’t give him the satisfaction of either response.
“It doesn’t matter now.” He reaches one of his hands down, pulling you apart further as he shimmies his hips in an effort to stuff you fully. “My cock is the only one you’ll ever have again.”
You can’t help the strangled sob that breaks from your throat, as desperate as you were to not give him the pleasure. “Tomura please! Please, it hurts!”
“I know it does.” He coos at you a baby voice.
All you can do is grit your teeth and do your best to shoulder the pain as he paps his lower body against you, eventually fully enveloped inside. You feel too full, his intrusion inside of you almost too much to bear. He presses his hips against you, rolling them a few times for good measure as you cry into your bound arms.
“Fuck- that’s so good! That’s one tight little hole you’ve got back here. I’ve only barely gotten inside and I could probably blow my load right now.” He cackles, smacking the side of your hip and causing you almost jolt against him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Make it nice and fast?”
You nod, sniveling pathetically and knowing that your answer ultimately doesn’t matter.
“Don’t get excited. You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”
He lets his chest rest fully against your back, one hand holding your hip steady to keep him inside despite your wriggling while the other comes to tip your chin up, forcing you to look at him. He studies your watery eyes, your trembling lips, the hastily mumbled pleas that beg him to stop. He only smiles softly, placing another all too gentle kiss on your forehead.
That’s the finality of his tenderness, raising his legs up slightly and sliding out of you by several inches before immediately pushing back in. Another choked cry escapes your lips, petering out into a whiny blubber as his hips meet the back of your thighs once more. He repeats the motion again and again, each time with a little more force.
“I told you to relax, baby.” He arches himself over you, moving his hands to hold himself up with a firm grip on your arms. “Or don’t. It’s like you’re sucking me in. Damn, I really can’t get enough of this!”
You do your best to relax your protesting muscles, focusing on anything but the sensation of his large cock invading your asshole. With every thrust, it’s like he forces himself deeper and deeper, small groans escalating into grunts and growls as he works himself up. Every subsequent stroke, he plunges harder, skin smacking against skin as his breath grows heavy. You can feel as he begins to sweat beneath his shirt, or at least could until he pulls away suddenly, leaving you connected as he situates himself upright.
He pulls up on both sides of your hips, forcing your lower half up into the air to meet him, bottoming out inside you again shortly after. He rams himself into you, barely keeping you stabilized as his nails dig into the soft fat of your waist, pinky wavering as he tries to keep himself in control. The rhythm he sets is intense, only finding the confidence to weave one hand through your hair after several minutes of practice.
He forces your head down even further into the mattress at first, shuddering at the intensity the new angle offers him. You think, if only for a moment, that he might be close, but your hope is quickly dashed when he yanks you up by the roots and arching your back to a painful degree.
“You like this, don’t you? You like my cock buried in your ass, like it when I use your slutty little body however I want to. Tell me you want more, tell me you want me to ream your ass and use you as a cumdump!”
You refuse to respond, trying in vain to keep the tears from falling as he uses you mercilessly. Unfortunately, Shigaraki is nothing if not accomplished at getting exactly what he wants.
The hand steadying your waist slithers down between your legs, teasing the little bud there with his still-lubed fingers. He doesn’t miss your quiet gasp, the way your thighs clench if only for a moment. It’s all that it takes to know that he’s got you. His touches are feather light in the beginning. Gentle grazes and light strokes to get you worked up. He even relaxes his brutal thrusts inside of you, dulling it down to a languid roll.
“Please-” You stutter, trying to block out the pleasure blooming between your thighs even as he abuses your ass.
“Please what?” He feigns innocence, middle finger working small patterns around your swelling clit.
“Stop!” You beg, struggling against his poisonous lavish of affection.
“Aw, is that really what you want?” He giggles, now using two of his fingers to work tight knit circles, coordinating his movements to match that of his cock. Your breath grows heavy from his expert movements, unable to deny the tightness winding as he plays with you.
“My pretty, stupid little slut. You really think you can resist me, don’t you? I can drag this out all night if I want. I can find something else to stick in that tight little pussy of yours too, show you what it’s really like to be stuffed so full you can’t move. You can beg me to cum in your ass, or I can find another use for that mouth while I do it over and over again.”
Even despite his harsh words, your eyes are glazing. You can feel your apex throb as his fingers expertly stroke across your cunt, the forced intrusion in your hole starting to feel something other than painful. As much as you wish he didn’t, you know he’s aware of this, breathing heavy in your ear as he adds more weight to both his hips and his hands.
“What do you want? Say it!” He seethes, punctuating his sentence with a particularly rough slam.
“I want you to cum in my ass! Please!”
Your acquiescence seems to please him, rewarding you with his fingers. “Do you like it when I fuck you here? Tell me.”
“Y-Yes, I love it when you fuck me in my ass! Please use me however you want, I’m yours!”
You don’t have to see him to know the terrible grin that slices across his face. He speeds his motions once again, coaxing a loud moan from you. The bedframe squeaks with every punch of his cock inside you, but the pain has subsided to a dull roar. Raw pleasure takes its place, flooding out from your thighs and spiraling through your limbs. Your nipples pebble in response, tingling from every brush against the mattress.
“What are you? Tell everyone just what you are.” He pulls you up higher by your hair, unnatural arch of your back only adding to the cacophony of sensation bombarding your nerves. He licks your cheek leaving a thick stripe of saliva across your face, waiting for your answer. Picking up the pace, both of his movements and the manipulation of your quim, he revels in the unraveling of your will power under his hands and the lust-drunk emptiness in your expression.
“I’m your stupid little whore and I want you to cum in my ass! Please Shigaraki, please fuck me!”
His eyes narrow, satisfied in your broken pleading.
“Good bitch. Now let me take care of you the way you deserve.”
He slicks his fingers in your juices, kissing your neck when you whine at his absence before expertly beginning to rub you again, groaning as your clench and squeeze around him. His animalistic grunts echo off the cement walls alongside your needy, licentious moans, mumbling half coherent sentences in the shell of your ear as he nibbles and bites at you. He ramps up his treatment, his cock throbbing in your ass cluing you in to the fact that he’s close.
The coil winds tighter and tighter and you find yourself bucking your hips against him to meet his thrusts, inebriated on the ecstasy of his nimble fingers. If he wasn’t holding you up, you’re fully certain you would have keeled over by now, unable to keep yourself upright between the quaking and the overwhelming waves of pleasure that threaten to drown you. You’re so close now, drool slipping from the side of your mouth, eyes hazy and fluttering.
“Perfect little slut! You’ll cum around my cock no matter what hole I stick it in, won’t you?” His words are bold, but like you, it’s painfully apparent that he’s on the brink of orgasm. “Beautiful- fucking-” He heaves, shoving you back down on the mattress, arching over you again but keeping his palm centered on your sloppy cunt, incessantly grinding the pads of his fingers on your pulsing pearl. “Whore! My whore! Fuck, I love you, I love you-”
Blinding white encompasses your vision, searing pleasure erupting from your abdomen. You throw your head back onto against shoulder, practically screaming as your thighs quake and you lose any ability to keep yourself steady. In the outskirts of your consciousness, you can feel him as he’s thrown over the edge as well, cussing and spitting as he forces his cock as deep as it will go, cumming deeply with a breathy groan against your ear. He rolls his hips against you, muttering about how tightly your ass milks him, but at the present moment, you can’t quite process it. Not when you’re breathless and seizing in bliss of your own.
Your hands shake and your eyes roll backward, cunt clenching around nothing as your hands flex uselessly against the air. You can hear his name spill from your lips alongside vile sentiments you would never say otherwise, but in the moment, it feels so right. You can feel him rest against your sweaty back, stroking you tenderly through your orgasm until the sea of pink starts to subside and his motions begin to border on painful.
“T-Tomura-” You sigh, finally fully waded through your shameful undoing. His heart pounds against you, so hard you can barely feel your own beat out of control in your chest. He decides upon kindness and you’re grateful for it, removing his fingers gracefully from beneath you before falling to your side and wrapping his arms around you. The uncomfortable wetness between your cheeks and dripping from your hole becomes uncomfortably apparent, alongside the now throbbing pain of your abused ass. Disgust washes over you, swallowing down a sob as he tenderly rubs your ribs.
“I’ll get you cleaned up in a few minutes, but I want to lie like this for now. Don’t try and run from me again, okay? I don’t like hurting you but you know sometimes I have to.” He kisses your temple again, sickly sweet and gentle. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad, was it? I promise you’ll get used to it.”
More Posts from Flamme-shigaraki-spithoe and Others
SHIGARAKI >:D!!!! Red tinted :D!!
If you can show your appreciation somehow, please do!!! (if you use)
My heart is breaking in a million pieces because Tomura thinks he can destroy the world and go back to the League, but he doesn't know that most of them are either dead or terribly hurt.
He doesn't know Twice died because he refused to betray them. Tomura doesn't know that Mr. Compress sacrificed himself to save him, doesn't know about the way that Compress screamed he loved the League as he went down. He has no clue about what AFO did to Spinner in Tomura's name, the way Dabi explained so perfectly to Shouto the LOV and their philosophies because he always paid attention even if he said he didn't, Tomura wasn't there to witness Toga's breakdown over not being able to use the Dabi's flames or his decay even if she loved them so much.
At his absolute worst, even once the worst of his own past is over, the thought of them keeping him going.
He wants to destroy the world for them.
His League of Villains.
They love him so much. He loves them so much.
They can only imagine it, but they. don't. know.
Tomura shigaraki x Gf reader
🌟smut
"A date? Why the hell do we have to go on a date...?" He scratched his neck, you couldn't tell what kind of expression he was looking at you with by the hand that covered his face. You and Tomura had a... complicated relationship. You declared your feelings to him shortly after joining the league and he accepted you. But he was always pretty uninterested in you in certain moments.
"Because we're a couple? Don't you want to spend time together tomara?" You question with a saddening tone. You love tomura but you can tell he didn't enjoy the same things you did at all.
"We spend plenty of damn time together." He said bluntly, scoffing and finally removing his hand from his face so he can look at you. He sat down in a couch and crossed his arms. "What's wrong with just sitting and talking? Why do we have to eat out somewhere?"
"You don't get tired of the same thing over and over again?" You tell him as you followed behind him sitting next to him not too close enough to give him his space.
He shrugged, looking down at his thighs for a moment before shifting his gaze back to you. His eyes trailed over your body and a smirk pulled at the corners of his lips.
"I guess not. You certainly don't get tired of being a pain in my ass though, heh."
You groan in frustration he didn't get you and you didn't get him but that didn't mean you gave up easily,
"Let's go out tomura..." you plea at him
He groaned back in annoyance and ran a hand through his messy hair.
"Fine, but only if you shut up. It's always "please this" and "please that" and "let's go here" with you. If you aren't saying some bullshit like that, you're complaining about some other stupid thing!"
His words hurt you it's not like he was wrong but you didn't do it to annoy him you just wanted him to feel the same joy you felt when you did whatever he wanted to do,
"Never mind we can just stay here..." you tell him trying to hide your pain, Of course, he noticed your expression. His eyes watched you closely, picking up on the slightest shift in your mood. He knew what he said hurt you. Hell, he was trying to. But seeing the way your face dropped was something he wasn't expecting. Tomura sighed and leaned back in the couch, looking away from you and rubbing his eyes.
"No... whatever. Fine. We can go out, just stop looking like that." He was trying his best not to sound like he cared.
"A-are you sure?.. I don't want you to be mad at me or anything..." you mumble underneath your breath with slight excitement in your voice, he was really considering going out with you...
A small scoff escaped his lips as he looked back at you, the same smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth again.
"Yeah, whatever, I'm not mad, idiot. I just don't get why you want to go somewhere so bad. Can't we just sit and watch a movie or something?"
"I don't know I just want to make ..." you mumble softly before you could finish your sentence afraid he might say your reasonings are stupid. you fiddle with your fingers trying to not look embarrassed, He raised a brow, looking at you in a confused yet curious manner. He could tell you were holding something back, and he was a bit frustrated that you weren't finishing your sentence. He leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on his thighs as he kept his eyes on you.
"You just want to make what? Spit it out, 'll probably hate it whatever you say anyways."
"M-" your words budging in your throat you couldn't spit it out, but you knew you had to or he'd get irritated.
"M-make memories with you..." you let out,
Well that... was not at all what he was expecting. He expected your answer to be something stupid and annoying, but instead it was... somewhat endearing. For a moment he sat there in silence, looking at you with a blank expression as he processed your answer.
"Memories? You only want to go out so you can make memories with me? That's... stupid."
You knew he's say that and it didn't bother you since you had predicted it, sometimes you wish he's see your point of view on relationships this might be his first but it didn't mean he couldn't try.
"Y-yeah you're right..." you sigh
He raised a brow when you agreed with him. He expected you to argue with him or something, not just give in. It made him want to... not insult you? What the hell was wrong with him? He stared at you for a minute, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"Huh? So you agree that it's stupid? Why'd you even say it then? You want to make memories because it's something happy couples do, right?"
You turn in embarrassment you knew he didn't do what other couples did especially "happy" couples.
"I'm not sure..." you respond in a low voice
He rolled his eyes at your mumbled response, a smirk pulling at his lips yet again. He loved getting under your skin. He always found it slightly amusing how you got so easily flustered
"What, can't even look at me when you're answering? Tch, you're so weak, it's pathetic."
He said as he started shifting himself on the couch, slowly moving closer to you.
You turn up to look at him, as if you were a lost puppy trying to find your owner you didn't know what to tell him. Dealing with tomura meant dealing with names but you tried to not let them get to you. He chuckled softly when he saw the expression on your face. He shifted closer to you until he was basically pressed against you, his face now only a few inches from yours. A smirk tugged at his lips as he ran his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him directly.
"Aww, I struck a nerve, huh? You get all shy when l insult you because you know they're all true, right? You're weak and pathetic, but you're always following me around like a dog."
You perk your lips feeling his hot breath below them,He slowly dragged his finger from your chin up to your bottom lip, gently running it across your soft skin. He couldn't help but notice the look you gave him he leaned in even closer, his face just barely hovering over yours.
"Always looking at me with those big round eyes and following me around, trying to get my attention. Like a dog, waiting for its owner to say something to it...”
He chuckled as he heard you let out a soft gasp, watching as your face turned red. It was so fun messing with you, seeing how easily flustered you got over the simplest things. He leaned in a bit closer, his mouth now right next to your ear.
"And now look at you, you're a mess just because I got a few inches closer to you.You're too easy, you know that? I bet I could do anything I wanted to you right now and you'd let me."
He was right you would but you wouldn't admit it not right now atleast not while he was turning you on. It's silly getting turned on just by words.
"I-I'm not..." you let out
He smirked again as soon as you spoke. He knew you were trying to hide your true feelings, trying to act like you weren't desperate for his attention. He leaned back a little so he could look at your face again and see your expression as he spoke.
"Not what? A mess? Easy? You're both, doll. I can see it in the way you're looking at me right now. Your face is so red, it's cute."
You try to control yourself as he moves closer to you causing you to yelp as he caresses you cheek, He smirked at the small yelp you let out, finding it adorable. He loved how sensitive you were, how easy it was to get a reaction out of you. He moved the hand that was on your cheek so it was tangled into your hair, his nails gently scratching your scalp as he spoke.
"I'm barely even touching you and you're trembling. I bet I could just pin you down right here right now and you wouldn't fight back. You're so obedient, just like a good little pet~"
"T-tomura..." you let out a gasp as he pins you down looking at you beneath him feeling his pent up member hard onto your core, He chuckled as he heard the way you whined his name out to him, the way your voice got all needy because of him. Your voice was music to his ears.
"What's wrong, doll? Got no other words to say?"
He said as he leaned down to your ear again, gently biting your earlobe before moving his lips down to your neck.
You repeat his name as he places kisses on your sensitive skin causing you to treble.
You wanted him and he wanted you it was obvious they way his pants tightened around his shaft. The way his hips moved slowly around your core repeatedly...
He groaned against your skin as he felt your body squirmed underneath him. He continued leaving a trail of kisses on your neck, moving his lips down to the crook of it and nibbling on the skin. He let out another groan when he felt you say his name again, and his hips subconsciously started moving more against you.
"You're so easy, it's pathetic."
He said huskily as he let out another groan.
"I-I'm n-not!" You let out as his kisses weakened you. He chuckled, finding your stubbornness both cute and ridiculous. He started leaving smaller kisses along your jawline, getting closer to your mouth.
"Oh yes, you are. You get all whiny and flustered whenever I touch you. You get all shy and quiet when I get close to you. You're a mess right now, and I all I did was pin you down."
He said against your skin before biting gently on your jaw. "I'm not the o-only one !" You exclaim as you look at his thick hard member
He chuckled again when you spoke, before slowly moving up a bit to look down at you.
He smirked at the way you spoke so boldly all of a sudden, his eyes locking onto yours as he continued rubbing himself against you.
"Oh, really? You think you're not the only one acting like this? Then what about me, hm? What makes you think I'm flustered, doll?"
"Your hips... the way you're moving them on me" you let out a soft moan as he continues his motions. He froze as you pointed out the way his hips were moving against you, realizing that you were right and he was losing his cool. He let out a huffed breath, trying to compose himself. He didn't want to show any kind of weakness in front of you. Instead, he leaned down to give you one quick kiss on the lips, like some kind of distraction, before speaking.
"That's... it's just because you're making me like this, doll. You're so pathetic that I can't help but get a little riled up."… "Im going to take you up like the slut you are and screw you untill you come undone" he says with his low raspy voice it turned you on so much. His words were blunt and vulgar, but they had a different effect on you than he would ve expected. They made you shiver, made your face turn redder than it was before, and caused a jolt of something in your lower stomach you hadn't felt before.
He saw the way you reacted to his words and the look on your face, a smirk crept onto his face as his eyes darkened. tomuras words fall from his lips like honey, you couldn’t help but feel something turn on inside you felt empty as if you needed him, needed him badly.
“tomura please.. p-please fuck me..” you cry in despair begging for him asking him to do what you’ve been expecting. He wouldn’t let you have what you wanted easily, you would have to work for it and hard. His lips formed a smirk as he replied “Fine I’ll fuck you.. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll beg me for more..”
You were relived, you were eager but before you could plea he spoke again.
“But you’ll have to work for it princess.. you have to prove to me how badly you want it ..“ he smirks as he lets you go and sits up undressing his lower half and sitting back down positioning himself with wide legs.
“Suck it.” He commanded.
You did as you were told, But he wanted more. You slowly kiss the tip of his shaft tasting the pre cum leaking from his cock what made it even better were the grunts he let out when you touched his dick.
“f-fuck..” he lets out, he doesn’t know why you have him like this you haven’t even put it inside your mouth and he wants to just forget about your punishment and fuck you but he knows you won’t learn.
You start kissing his tip as you feel the pre cum on your lips the sweet but slightly sour flavor falls on your tongue like heaven.
“My sweet fucking g-girl~” he moans out “You love my cock don’t you?” He chuckles as you bob your head feeling his hard cock inside your mouth as it twitches, he grabs your hair gently but roughly as he pushes your head down even further hitting the back of your throat.
“Mhm!!!” You squeal as you felt his cock deeper inside your mouth tears start to form, your gag reflexes weren’t the best but it was enough to handle his size,
“My pretty girl s-so pretty..” you give a final bob as he finishes inside your mouth filling it with his seed, you felt yourself get wetter and wetter panties soaked.
He commands you to swallow every last drop before he helps you up and shoves you to the couch, his cock rubbing in your throbbing pussy.
“beg for it.” He says in a low raspy voice
Without a doubt you do as he says,
“P-please b-baby please!” “Just fuck m-me!” You beg hoping he’d hurry, hearing you beg turned him on and he sure was gonna fuck the voice out of you. He positions himself in front of your wet entrence causing you to moan causing music to his ears and he slowly enters himself as a way to make you suffer he was going to take his time with you pressuring you and make you wait for what you wanted.
“T-omura!” You whine as you more your hips like a horny dog trying to make him move faster
“Keep trying and I won’t put it in you brat..” shigaraki a husky voice tells you in a serious voice he meant what he said.
You whimper you wanted him inside and when he was it drove you mad he thrusted in and out of your core causing you to moan like a mad woman it felt so good the way his cock cam in and out in and out in repeat pushing against your gummy walls and you tighten with each thrust,
“fuckfuck fuckkk..” you moaned out in repeat your walls were clenching on him hard and he enjoyed ever last one he lived the way your eyes fooled back with tears on them the way your young made its way out panting rapidly as he pushed your lug towards your chest making even more access to your core.
“My pretty little c-cunt…”. He let out with grunts
“Fucking mine..” he smiled at your figure, you felt yourself cumming soon pleading for his seen deep inside you,
“p-please p-please cum inside me!!!” You whined as his final thrusted in you spreading his seed all over your walls
“FUCK!!” He yelled as he panted slowly trying to gain his breath he feel beside you as his eyes were searching for something to cover you with.
He soon found a blanket and got up to get it sitting down as he commanded you to lay on his side while covering both of you as you fell asleep in his chest.
As you felt asleep he looked at your weak figure the way it was fragile… he loved the way you look like a lost puppy in need of a home loved the way you begged and plead underneath him….
Fuck.
He was hard again.
(if you liked my work feel free to check out the rest on my page and follow <3!! Or click the #hotcheetos22 )
After that red-eyed Sun thing like... c'mon... we were all thinkin it
He talks a lotta shit for a guy within KISSING distance 😏
Reblogs greatly appreciated!
Slip
Summary Chap 1
Featuring: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader cw: None, but this series contains adult themes so minors don't interact. Word count: 4.8 k AO3
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The timeless fact shared throughout human history is that resources equal power. A few generations ago, quirks weren’t even considered a possibility, let alone a metric of power, even if superpowers are currently statistically as prevalent as brown eyes. Financial resources are still considered the most valuable.
Tomura granted himself access to that resource thanks to his battle with Redestro, and as a result, the league did as well.
It was fun at first to eat anything you wanted whenever you wanted and have clean clothes delivered to your door. It was so simple to become familiar with the pleasant things. Getting used to being seen as some kind of authority figure by the members of the Paranormal Liberation Front was not. You didn't agree to this.
It continued to bother you that the members of the PLF insisted on calling you Lieutenant Y/n. After the numerous reunions you attended, nothing but the thought of delivering your dismissive to Tomura rounded your mind, stating that you didn’t want anything distinctive and that you were content with being merely Y/n. Writing the letter took you a while. It would be easier to tell him in person, but brushing away the feeling that he was actively avoiding you has been complicated since that night.
Setting up a communication method that allowed him to avoid you seemed more appropriate. Saving him—and you—uncomfortable eye contact and more awkward talk. By that train of thought, sending a text was far simpler, but it felt wrong. You wanted him to read your handwriting not because it was good but because you wanted him to know you took the time to consider your choice.
It is not like you were leaving.
But you were in a way that mattered to him.
The first draft was lengthy. You poured your heart into the paper sheet, but it soon dawned on you that you had written it for yourself, not Tomura. That kind of relationship was not what you had with him. You began again, dragging the pen over the sheet until it bled in thick, blotchy scribbles, tossing that sheet away too.
By the end of your writing session, all you came with was a short note that wasn't worthy of an envelope.
The next issue was getting the note into his possession. You once again rejected the less complicated choice in favor of breaking into his room covertly and leaving it there. Something told you that breaking into his personal space would irritate him less than sending the note into the hands of a third party.
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Tomura's new room was on the building's top story. He didn't quite care for it; it was Redestro's idea to accommodate him in such a place.
You went to the elevator, avoiding people as much as you could. The occasional greeting was appreciated, but each time, you hoped it remained just a salute and not an invitation to converse. The beaten-down boots you refused to throw away made squeaking noises as you walked down the polished floor.
You wondered why luxurious places had to have all surfaces polished to the point of reflection; after all, you didn't need to scrutinize yourself on everything that caught your eye. The elevator was not better, with a huge, full-length mirror attached to the back. Even if you gave your back to your reflection, you could not escape your mirror doppelganger. The silver-like door of the elevator was as reflective as recently polished silverware.
The sound of the tiny speaker, which indicated you’d reached your destination, took you out of your mind with pre-recorded bells. Stepping outside, you turned your head left and right; no one was around to be a witness. Little did you know, Tomura had said to everyone else that he didn't want people snooping around his room.
You would bet that the massive, thick wood panels that made up the door were custom-built. It surprised you that the doorknob wasn’t locked, but who would dare to break into his room apart from you?
You meant to only leave the note in a place that looked messy so he would notice it and then run away from there as quickly as possible, but you didn't resist the urge to wander around. The room smelled clean in a chemical way—too much bleach. Under that, you could perceive his smell; you remembered it so well.
The room was so tall and went on and on. If you spoke out loud, you knew the echo would answer your words in an eerie whisper. An office space was to your right. The left led to a narrow passage, possibly a bathroom or closet. Who knew?
In front of you, a set of stairs led you to his bedroom. The big, tall, imposing windows gave you an impressive view of the gardens and the city nearby. Now, you were jealous of that view.
Muffled steps startled you when you were about to turn around and finish with this exploration and delivery mission. You didn't even have the chance to try and hide; he was already beside you. He moved like a cat, naturally stealthy; his broken leg had healed long ago.
"Nice view," you muttered, swallowing your surprise.
He hummed in what you hoped was agreement. You didn't lift your head to look at him or move. Trying to control your nerves was costing you all your willpower. Your quirk has never been this useless before.
"I brought you something," you said, lifting the note so he could see it.
"I have paper in the room over there," he said, pointing to the office near the door.
"It’s a note.”
You finally turned to look at him, with his now immaculate white hair surrounding his head like a halo, wearing the three-piece suit he started to use when Redestro convinced him he should dress accordingly to his new position. He appeared so different; even his body language, with a straight, proud back, was not the same.
"A petition," you clarified.
"Is it so important that you had to break into my room?" He inquired, taking the note from your fingers.
"The door was open; I knocked." You shrugged, disregarding his question.
Tomura hoped your important petition was something along the lines of being with him again, not necessarily for sex, not like he would say no if you offered, but he wanted your presence near him again. He didn't want to hear whispers trying to lure him now that he was powerful. Tomura very much would rather listen to you.
He'd done what he thought was right by letting you come to him on your terms, just like you did the first time.
"Whatever it is, I'm fine with it," he said casually.
You frowned at his words. He had to hold his fingers in a fist to keep his thumb from smoothing the lines on the space between your eyebrows and to keep himself from pressing his mouth against yours.
"You should read it." That's all you uttered before walking away. "Goodnight, Tomura," you said when you reached the door, then you disappeared.
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The knocking on your door woke you up with a start, activating your quirk as you took your first conscious breath. The person outside your door must've felt the buzzing of your quirk because they immediately said:
"Sorry to wake you up, Ms. Y/l. Mail."
Why the fuck didn't they just slide it in under the door? You wondered as your eyes darted to the clock on your nightstand at 6:00 a.m. It read neon green numbers.
Throwing a robe over your shoulders reluctantly, you retrieved your quirk, a headache already blooming behind your eyes. A man in an ironed uniform was before you with a warm smile. He gave you an envelope unceremoniously.
"Thanks," you mumbled to the man, and he bowed, ending the awkward interaction.
You knew what this was, even if the envelope was blank and unsealed. Tomura must have trusted people in no way would tamper with his things, or maybe he heedlessly didn't care. With shaky fingers, you pull out the folded paper inside the envelope to find a single word written hastily in the center.
Approved.
Officially, you were no longer Co-commander Y/n. The responsibility you had never asked for had been taken from your shoulders. You could feel a smile starting to appear on your lips. In any case, you weren't a fighter in the first place; in Tomura's words, when you first met, you were support.
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Tomura regretted not stopping you from leaving his room.
When he had read the message to the end, he turned it into dust. Is that what you truly wanted to do? Striding to the office, he had not even bothered to visit before.
He told himself that he had more important things to do and that he didn't have time to ponder the reasons why you thought the way you did. He needed to demolish civilization and prepare his body to accept AFO. A single word was enough of an answer.
The paranormal liberation front was inconsequential; disposable pieces turned pawns on his chessboard. He trusted his league enough to let them complete all the planning for the upcoming attacks on heroes, and Dabi to deal with the spy.
You were not indispensable anyway. Absolutely not. Even when he caught himself thinking about you. Tomura had no time to lose; he had a war to win. He was the mass-destruction weapon that would tip the scales in their favor.
The next reunion was private, with just the co-commanders present. Before Tomura entered the conference room, all eyes were on the empty chair that belonged to you. Himiko looked at Spinner questioningly, but he merely shrugged; her guesses were as good as his.
Tomura didn't address it either when the reunion began. He was brief; he was going into the next step, and his body had to turn into the perfect vessel for AFO. He was moving into the hospital of Dr.Garaki that very same day to start with the procedures.
New responsibilities settled on their shoulders. At last, there would be concrete action taken against the heroes—a shift was in the works. It was almost time to document the rebirth of a new world rising from the ashes of devastation.
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You may have shot yourself in the foot because you grew bored pretty fast. The information came to you the same way it came to everyone else: later, watered-down, and changed. The atmosphere shifted; that was clear. As training got underway, individuals were selected and chosen in a manner distinct from how regiments had previously accommodated their squads.
Now you were under Trumpet's command. You'd trained well enough not to be worried; you knew the reach of your quirk very well; it was advantageous but it was not going to be a major factor in the battle.
You grew fond of the rooftop, as everything in the building was overdone, but the plant pots with exotic-looking greenery offered a feeling of privacy. A girl took care of them—a plant-based quirk, probably; she reminded you of Tomura with a similar hair color and bright red eyes.
Then you felt dumb for searching for him among other people.
You walked up to the roof as you often did on one of your many sleepless nights, and sure enough, it was empty. The chilly air stole a shiver from you, making your eyes water. You ought to have taken a jacket, but you weren’t going to hop into the elevator again. The thought of dropping by Tomura's floor and breaking into his room again was too tempting.
You had no idea what you were going to do there. Would you wait for Tomura to catch you again? That was a bad idea.
Bracing yourself and rubbing the length of your arms, you wander to the edge. From the nearest city, a million tiny artificial stars could be seen. The horizon melded with the sky, joining the real ones. You tried not to think about the fate of those people living their lives.
"I didn't know you liked heights, Lieutenant Y/n." A male voice made you turn your head: Hawks. He was wearing a charming smile.
"As long as I have my feet on something solid..." You answered. “I don’t mind.”
He chuckled like you just said the funniest thing he had heard all day, or as if he were laughing at you.
"How come I don't see you in meetings anymore?" He asked.
You didn't like this guy. Dabi was supposed to deal with him. Allowing a hero in was never a wise decision. The fact that Hawks, the second-ranking hero, disagreed with hero society seemed too good to be true.
"My presence is not required." You said that, placing your index finger over your lips. "Secret missions and all. No one is better than you to get it right?"
"Right, right. Good luck." He said it with a boyish smile.
"Good luck to you too. Surely it must be stressful? If I were to lie in front of the hero commission, I would be under a lot of stress. You're so brave." You could play that game too. Men love flattery, and Hawks seemed like he liked to get his feathers ruffled.
"Rarely a change can be obtained without taking risks," he added as he leaned against the railing. "Just see Shigaraki going and turning himself into a guinea pig."
What? What did he say?
"How do you know that?" Keeping a serene stance rapidly became so much harder.
"Dabi said something like that. I don't have the details, just that Shigaraki is under some kind of procedure," he said, lifting his hand in mock defense. "Didn't you know, Lieutenant?"
"I won't confirm or deny anything." You said, faking a chuckle, fixing a lock of hair behind your ear.
"Right. Secret missions and all.” He said holding your gaze.
That smelled rotten. You served information to the hero on a silver plate. He was not stupid; far from it. Hawks read you like a book, and who knew what you unknowingly admitted or denied? He tricked you in a game you didn’t know you had cards in.
Banging at Dabi's door at 3 a.m. was surely not the plan you had for your night and yet. He opened the door, a threatening blue flame already licking his fingers.
"The fuck you want is 3 a.m.; it can wait until tomorrow."
Ignoring his complaint, you stepped into his room, shoving him inside.
"Why are you giving information about Tomura to Hawks? What does he mean when he says Tomura is turning himself into a guinea pig?" Using your hands to emphasize your statements, you yelled at Dabi.
"Why were you talking to Hawks?" The man answered your question with a question himself.
"It doesn't matter!"
"You didn't know? Shigaraki is not in special training; he's getting inside a tank to get his body ready for something," Dabi said casually, taking fluff off his jacket.
"Why are you telling the hero that? Don't tell me you trust him." It took you a couple of minutes to digest his words. You were starting to get tired of people asking about stuff you might or might not know.
"Look y/n I don't know what you did to Shigaraki to get him to kick you out of the team, nor do I care, but I will tell you this: I don't want your nose up my business; I have the situation under control." He stated this as he approached you, coming to your eye level.
You scoffed.
"We'll see."
You went back to the hallway just as you were crossing his door frame, ready to walk away. Dabi murmured, "Garaki's Hospital."
You came back, capturing your attention once again.
"That's where Shigaraki is."
"Why are you telling me that?" you asked, lifting your eyebrow.
Dabi was trying to buy your silence by giving you a piece of information he knew you wanted. It was written all over your face, and of course, because he didn't want you rushing around telling everyone else about him disclosing private information to Hawks.
"I have the situation with the hero under control. I know what I'm doing. Don't worry and don’t worry others," he assured you, repeating his words.
"Fine, I won't tell anyone anything, but you must tell me what's going on."
He shook his head and sat on a sofa, male-spreading.
"Not much. I should ask you, Why did the boss give you vacations?"
You shrugged back.
"Reasons" you leaned on the wall, unconcerned about ruining the expensive paper wall; the room had already been marinated in smoke anyway.
"You see, I don't want people up my business, and you don't like people up yours. I'll end it here.” Grinning, he tugged at his charred flesh and said, "I always like you more than the other idiots; you know when to shut your mouth."
"That was a shitty attempt to get into my good side." You replied.
"No like I would gain anything from it"
It was clear the conversation was over; you should've controlled your feelings. As you walked towards your room, you realized that Dabi had planted a seed inside your mind. In the end, he didn't tell you anything.
He confirmed that Tomura was undergoing some kind of procedure in Dr.Garaki's hospital, though. A dangerous idea was starting to seep into your head.
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First of all, setting a plan is what you ought to do. Willingly, you stripped yourself of all the power you once had, but that gave you a certain freedom. The PLF's lower ranks were in the thousands, and most of them couldn't point you out. You could go and return as you wish without having people hover over you.
You didn't trust Hawk. He was hiding something, or maybe many somethings. Dabi's judgment wasn't reliable either; he too was hiding something. And you wouldn't care if whatever plan he was putting into action could be the reason everything could go to hell.
Two options danced in your mind. Both were as wild as they could be in their genre.
Getting rid of Hawks by yourself was not only impossible; it was a death wish. For once in your life since you became an adult, you were mad you didn't get a quirk that could be used as a weapon.
Variables in that plan started taking shape. Humans have been killing since they first existed; murder was ingrained in the genes of homo sapiens as much as gathering and art were. Maybe you just have to be creative.
A gun could do the job if you had one or knew how to use one. Poison is a classic, woman's favorite weapon; it is elegant and classy, and if he were as smart as you thought he was, he would never drink or eat anything you served him, which led you to square one.
The second plan was...
So, how difficult could it be to gain access to a secret laboratory hidden beneath a hospital? Assuming Tomura was down there rather than in one of the hundred existing rooms. You didn’t trust that Dabi was telling you the truth; for all you knew, it could be a test.
To see how dumb you were.
To see how fast you were going to be running up that hill toward the hospital, to go and tell the leader that he was giving information to the heroes.
Good thing you didn't care about any of that.
Even if you told Tomura you knew him when he had a thing in mind, nothing else mattered; he would just say something along the lines of "I'm sure Dabi can deal with it" or "I would just kill all the heroes."
Bad thing you cared about Tomura.
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People underestimate how far you can get if you wear a plain white button-up, jeans, and a security vest. All you have to do is show up as though you've always been there. Getting the vest from the utility closet wasn’t hard; you just had to wait until everyone was training. You were even able to get a forgotten toolbox with the tools still inside. It was just as easy to get outside the building; everyone was so enthusiastic about the plans that were ahead of them, and their minds were so full of ideas that they began to fly out of them like little flies.
You were prepared to get in after securing the toolbox and slipping the bag handles over your shoulder. Hiding in plain sight had always worked for the schemes you'd planned in your head, except in the cases where they didn't. It was time to forget about those.
Walking into the ER, appearing a little disoriented but not too lost, attempting to project the idea that you've done this before and that remembering the precise location you should be in this interminable hospital is simply beyond the cluttered memory of a junior contractor.
A last check at your reflection in the glass door showed you that your disguise is perfect: your clothes are clean but not brand new, and your hair is out of your face but not in a complicated way. The more you appear unremarkable, the better.
The nurse at the reception was typing lazily, lifting her gaze to tap at the forms sitting on the counter for the people demanding medical attention.
"Hello. I'm a little lost, you see. My colleague ought to be in the basement right now, tending to the pipes—the ones in the boiler room, that is. We received your call earlier this week.” The nurse gave you an annoyed expression at first, followed by a relieved, "I'm glad I can get rid of you quickly" look.
"Oh, so silly of me; I'm F/n." You continued conversing as she accepted your outstretched hand. "Could you please tell me how to get there?" You were giggling. Your calm exterior starkly contrasted with the simmering feeling in your stomach.
"You can take the service stairs." The more you studied the nurse, the more tired her face appeared, her dark circles unmasked by the heavy layer of concealer creasing around her eyes. "Next time, use the back door; this is the ER." The woman sighed and waved you away with a flick of her wrist.
"Sure. Sorry, my bad."
And that's how you use overworked health professionals to your advantage. Before the voice got running about the oblivious contractor testing the patience of the ER's nurse, you went to find those service stairs.
The good part about hospitals is that they're always hiring people to fix stuff. You can't risk an immunocompromised patient getting pneumonia due to a lack of warm water. Almost all hospitals have the same layout; the experience you gained from all your years of getting inside places has gifted you with such knowledge.
Of course, in this case, you had to break the first rule: walk as if you knew the place like the back of your hand, but you wanted the alarm to go off. Garaki was a wise man; he knew he had strange things in that basement, which was most likely guarded by some kind of device—a nomu—to keep the outsiders out of his illegal lab, and you wanted to wake it up.
Pushing the heavy door of the service stair landed you into a well-illuminated hallway divided up and down, and down was the cross on your map.
Gasping for breath as you pulled down the last step in the building, the stagnant air provided poor-quality oxygen and dust, leaving you lightheaded. If someone was after you, good luck running all those stairs.
The concrete floor and walls that once were bright white marked the entry of the basement door. Every few turns, you noticed doors with peeling lettering and some with shut locks. You made sure to mismatch your steps as you walked to daunt anyone from hiding their steps with yours. Your quirk was muffling your hearing with white noise—a small price to pay for being untrackable.
Disoriented, you finally found the thing you were looking for: the power gabinet. Gabinet was an understatement; it was huge, with a whole room’s worth of switches and rumbling noises accompanied by colorful LEDs looking like Christmas lights.
Now if you were a real electrician or if you just had any—not even a basic—knowledge of how any of this worked, you would probably be able to pick up where Garaki's lab was, but your plans were far less sophisticated.
You hoped the hospital had an emergency generator for the machinery that kept people alive since you were going to shut everything down. You were like a solar storm, flipping all the switches. You went out and pulled a latch on the door; that should give you a little time.
There it was.
Nomus have blood running inside their zombie veins, but they don't have a heartbeat, so in your head, it translates like turbulence inside a tube. You appeared to have only awoken a few of them. Going against all your self-preservation instincts, you went after the sound, using it as a trail to navigate into the darkness. A flashlight was tucked in the loops of your jeans, but the desire to use it waned as you realized you'd be placing a target on your back.
All you permitted yourself was to navigate with your right hand; the cold tiles ground you, bumping every few centimeters against your fingers in an irregular pattern.
With every step you took, you questioned the flaws in your plan. Underproductive, you were already in the second circle of hell. There was no point in turning away now. No like you would find the stairs back up regardless of whether you tried or not.
More stairs led you down the rabbit hole; they twisted at a ninety-degree angle. A light that gave you a sinister sense made you think that maybe you had already passed away on the stairs at the end of the walk. The light was filtering through the minimal space between the door and its frame. Squinting, you attempted to concentrate to detect a heartbeat on the other side, providing them with your position in a lose-lose scenario that might soon go south.
The person on the other side had a steady heartbeat until they felt the buzzing of your quirk making its way into their head. The pulse quickened, and the door opened.
Red eyes stared at you, astonished.
Or so you thought. The sudden brightness burned your eyes; blotches appeared behind your eyelids. Hissing, you covered one of your eyes with your hand.
"Y/n? What? What exactly are you doing here?" Tomura asked.
"I fancied a walk," you replied, rubbing away the burning sensation from your eyes.
"Y/n..."
"I was worried. I needed to talk to you. I don't believe Hawks, and I don't think Dabi is doing a good job with him either." Admitting the thoughts inside your mind.
With his arms crossed and lesions that still looked like purple bruises running in strange patterns down his right arm, Tomura reclined on the door frame.
"Maybe if you had not quit, you would be able to solve it." His voice was filled with resentment. "I'm busy"
"That's beside the point. If Hawks informs the heroes what you're up to, it may mean all of this goes to hell. I'm trying to prevent it."
"Don't worry about it," he said, shrugging. “Dabi can handle it.”
"How am I supposed to not worry if I was able to sneak down here so easily? And Dabi does not handle it well."
Tomura pondered your words for a few moments. He was not in the headspace to worry about the hero and the possibility of his betrayal. Half the time he was under some kind of painful operation, and the remaining half he was too exhausted and drained to worry about chores he had already delegated to his league.
"Make sure it doesn't happen then," Tomura said. "You're smart; keep the hero at bay."
"Too late. Dabi already told him I learned it from Hawks."
Tomura hummed, rubbing his chin.
"Stay with me here. Your quirk should prevent the heroes from tracking me," he continued, wetting his lips. "Keep me hidden."
An anxious perspiration ran down your back as you widened your eyes. "What but..." Tomura cut you off by saying, "I can't leave."
Biting the inside of your cheek. It shouldn't be this difficult to make a decision; it doesn't have to mean anything other than assisting your teammate.
"I'll stay," the voice that encouraged you to go underground urged you once more to stay, “with you.”
Notes: Sorry about any mistake English is not my first language, also I'm bending canon a little lol Next chap is just smut and a little bit of plot then it is only angst and pain from that point jajaja
thanks man
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.
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.
Give Your Heart a Break - Chapter 2 Tomura Shigaraki x reader series
You can find chapter one here
Notes: So I want to clarify that in this fic, a major theme about Tomura's story is that he suffers from a lot of untreated mental illness. I'm representing him as someone who's undiagnosed Bipolar, but also experiences symptoms that boarder schizophrenia, such as the voices he hears and he'll eventually have a psychotic episode at some point in this story. I know this feeds the "Bipolar and psychotic people are evil" stereotype, but I have these mental illnesses and see Shigaraki as someone who could very much have untreated Bipolar disorder (type 1 specifically), regardless. Most anime characters aren't written to be bipolar lol but I have a list of reasons why I think he has the potential to be. Maybe I'll make a post about it someday.
Summary: Tomura is so goshdarn determined to find his lil gamestop crush and thanks to him conveniently seeing her debit card he casually stalks her on the internet
Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact, cliffhanger, mildly dark content, internet stalking, creepy Tomura, Tomura and y/n only talk over the internet in this chapter, i wrote Tomura's thoughts but it's not from his direct POV. They are highlighted in blue, like chapter 1 Tomura hears voices and sometimes they can be nasty - they are highlighted in red, Shigaraki is kind of soft in this fic, very scott pilgrim kind of humor, edgy and derogatory humor but it's satirical, Tomura has his English Dub's voice (pre Paranormal Liberation Front), not proofread yet
Notes About Reader:
everything from chapter 1 applies
she/her pronouns
relatively active on social media but makes content private
reader is a WEIRDO
I made the reader's username mine lol
As said, she's very based off of me
reader experiences unspecified mental illness and has been to a psych ward in her past
she laughs very easily
"*your full legal name*"
Tomura considered the possibility that you may be using someone else's card or that you didn't go by your legal name but he was sure it was a decent place to start. His heart was racing so hard to find out who you are. He wasn't sure what struck a chord in him when he saw you. He supposed it was cuz you're pretty, but he really didn't know anything about you other than you're spooky, like anime, and like his hair.
He immediately started searching for your name on his phone. It wasn't hard to find your Facebook, though your privacy settings didn't let him see much other than profile pictures. You seemed somewhat outgoing from what he could tell.
There was a directory about you online, and he guessed it was you based on your age and location (he saw your location on FB lol). Now he knew your address..
the internet is so nice to him sometimes :)
It took him a little bit of digging but he found your other socials outside of Facebook. All private, though. Fuuuck.
Fuck it, follow.
Tomura never showed his face on his socials and never ever ever put his name. She wouldn't know it was him.
"But now she has to approve it :("
*bugsinmybrain accepted your follow request*
:)))))
Tomura swore that he felt as if he had unlocked a fucking treasure chest. You were so very flashy, that's for sure. A lot of pictures of you, decorated with some cute stickers that were edited in, or surrounded by anime dudes.
"Tenko"
"Fuck off."
From what he could tell, you were a geek. Very nerdy and interested in things, though that wasn't a bother to Tomura. He was a fan of a lot of shit. You were also very pretty. He then stumbled on some posts you'd made about heroes. How you thought their system was corrupted and that they'd neglect people and dismiss those who they thought were worth sacrificing. Mmm, you're speaking his language.
You didn't appear to be any kind of villain, you couldn't be so outgoing on the internet if you were, but you were certainly feisty.
He wanted to message you. He knew it would be weird and he didn't want to creep you out, but god he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know more about you. To be honest, he really wanted you to give him your undivided feminine attention. When you spoke with him at GameStop he felt warm. Love at first sight? Possibly. Is he that much of a fool?
His social anxiety made him almost want to watch you outside your window before messaging you online anonymously. rrr.
"whatever."
him: hey, do you remember the blue haired guy from GameStop?
you didn't answer for two hours.
Tomura tried to not care if you responded or not but he was boiling hot and itching anxiously, wondering if you had actively ignored him. But you didn't unfollow or block him, he checked many times.
her: omg yea
!!!
him: is your name (y/n)? that's what your card said. sorry thats creepy af but i kinda wanted to talk to you so I looked you up.
He wasn't even attempting to not be a stalker at this point. What else was he supposed to say? There's no way to cover the fact that he has a crush on you or something.
her: yea that's me. i noticed you peaked at my name so it's ok lol. what's your name?
"fuck"
he wasn't supposed to say anything like that online. He's a piece of shit, yea, but a part of Tomura didn't want to lie.
"Tenko"
That's a name he heard often. For the last couple of years he began experiencing frequent auditory hallucinations. Hearing "Tenko" was one of them. Sometimes they'd tell him to stop or scream at him or strangely enough, they'd be calm and nurturing to him. It drove him crazy sometimes.
Whatever.
him: Tenko
her: why did you want to talk to me?
him: that's an awkward question
her: why?
him: i guess it's not. you look cool and said shit about hating heroes. is that a good enough reason?
her: LMAO
i suppose
him: do you play any video games? I saw you go to the anime section...
"She'll know that I was creeping on her"
*deletes that last sentence*
him: do you play video games? you came into gamestop after all lol
her: i play but i'm not very good at any of them
"of course she isn't"
him: what games do you play?
her: league of legends
him: omg are you kidding me?
her: no
him: do you wanna play with me? like. right now?
her: sure??
score.
You were trash at league. But somehow it was charming seeing you try your best, though your efforts were very frugal. Normally seeing someone so bad in his game would make Tomura pissed but he gave you a pass. At the moment, he was more worried about getting to know you than the game itself. So he tried all he could to get you to talk, he loved your voice.
"I'm going to assume you're very new to this?"
"Yea."
"How new?"
"I've been playing for maybe 3 months."
"That long and you're still shit?"
"I know I suck," you say defensively. As if you could hear the things in his head.
"You kind of do, not going to lie."
It wasn't long after that you got essentially gangbanged by three enemy players with no hits back.
"FUCK"
The loud cussing in his headphones made Tomura jump, but he couldn't help but start to chuckle violently.
"Feisty bitch ain't she?"
"She wants to suck your cock."
"Shut up..." Tomura growled under his breath.
"Did you just tell me to shut up??" You ask, though chuckling while you did.
"What? No, no. Sometimes I just have really bad thoughts that come out of nowhere. I have to like.."
"Tell them to be quiet?"
"yup."
"I've done that. Like actually, though. I'll just start thinking of the most wacked out thing, and it comes out of no where. Sometimes I knock on my head to get rid of them, hah."
I guess a spooky looking gal like you being mentally ill isn't a surprise to him. Your ability to relate to his situation was still comforting, though. Especially because he almost expected you to get uncomfortable when he told you about having "bad thoughts." Some girls may think a freaky looking dude like him having "bad thoughts" meant that he was some homicidal villain.
oh wait
"Really? I've had it happen to me all my life, but for the last two years I've like...heard voices, I guess? Sometimes the thoughts aren't even thoughts, they just happen. And I'll hear them, in voices that aren't mine. Also forget all of that, I'm normal and you're very bad at league."
The giggle that erupted from you shot an infestation of butterflies inside his chest. You seemed to think he was very funny, which is something that frankly turned him on. Throughout your call he was able to make you snicker from saying the dumbest shit. He prayed you weren't just faking it.
"It's ok. You'd be surprised how common that is. Doesn't make it any easier though, I'll say that," you reply, hoping to ease his nerves. You could tell even over voice call that while he spoke very easily about his hallucinations, he had a level of shame for them.
"No. It doesn't. Who made you a psychiatrist, anyways?"
"My six stays at the psych ward maybe," you retort.
"sexy."
"Excuse me, Tenko?"
Oh right. That's his name right now. Fuck, he wanted to see you in person. He felt like he'd be able to be more of an open book that way. He'd still need a story though, fake name or not. You probably thought you were just talking to some geeky gamer boy with blue hair and possible schizophrenia, but little did you know, you were talking to a facilitator of multiple acts of mid-level terrorism. Hey, but if it was all in the name of "Fuck Heroes" maybe you'd still laugh at his jokes.
"Sorry that wasn't very feminism of me was it?"
"No, it wasn't" you said as you wheezed in laughter.
"You like my edgelord jokes, don't you?"
You kept laughing, now somehow he had pulled a couple of snorts out of you too.
"fat pig."
"Want to take a trip to 2016? I bet Leafy would love to make fun of autistic 12 year old's with you."
He swore that you were probably crying from how hard you were laughing. He wished he could see you on camera right now, but hearing you blow out his ear drums with your annoying yet adorable little laugh was good enough for now.
"Am I going to have to come resuscitate you?" Tomura cackles, now feeling himself starting to laugh.
"Your voice is cute."
"Liar."
"I'm not!"
"Someone once told me I sound like I'm a prison bitch cuz of how hoarse my throat is."
"wow."
"Done with the jokes, got it."
"I know, right?"
"I just think it's cute, you're very expressive."
*this is Tomura right, now by the way*
"Does that mean that uh..you think I'm cute?" he pesters with the widest smile on his face, though you couldn't see.
*que jeopardy music*
Goodness, you certainly had a girlish charm with the way your mellow voice would start chirping with laughter. He didn't think flirting should've been this easy, but you were very impressionable.
"It it ok to say yes?" you asked sheepishly over call.
"Ehehehe~!!!" Tomura squealed, mocking your giggles.
"Shut up!"
"Am I going to have to come and rescue you? You sound like you're running out of air," he asked almost genuinely, as he held back a cough.
"Do it, pussy, you won't."
"Oh really?"
"Uh-huh."
"Would you be mad at me if I told you I know where you live?"
"Excuse me?"
"Not my fault. Blame yourself for being an on-the-grid person. The internet is dangerous, didn't you know?"
"Are we officially stalker-stalkee now?" you joked.
"Yea but my hair is blue and my voice is cute so it's ok if I stalk you, right?"
"Oh my fucking god."
"So, can I come see you?"
"Huh?"
"In person. I could be there in like half an hour. You live near me."
"Tenko, it's 10pm."
"Would you get in trouble? Do you live with parents or something?"
"Yea."
"I could pick you up and we could walk back to my place."
Now, dear readers, would you accept such an offer from a complete stranger at almost midnight, absolutely alone with him? After he has admitted to lowkey stalking you? You shouldn't!
However, we, the reader, are ignorant to common sense when we receive the slightest crumb of positive (?) male attention.
"Sure."
"teeheehee!!" Tomura teases. "Keep your eyes pealed, then. Thirty minutes, okay?"
"omg i guess."
"omg ok, what flavor of Monster do you drink?"
I have to confess
I have another comfort character...yes Tomura isn't the only one even if he's my fav 😂✋
I also have sundrop✨ from fnaf i can't i...such a sunshine 🥺
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18+, minor don't interact with the 18+ contentTomura shigaraki's biggest simpArtist, writter
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