Summary: You’re Trying To Recover From What Happened, But It’s Hard To Forget; Especially When You

Homie I don't know if you've considered writing a part 2 for the incel Gyutaro modern! Au scenario cause it legit rewired something in my brain ajskaj 🤒💕- he's like a weird bug that's fun to poke and watch em S Q U I R M ah, I love it.

Like I can see later on y/n has an indirect impact on him even though it's a casual thing- like, telling him his cum taste bitter af and it convinces him to eat better if it means he'll keep getting head (toss in more regular showers in there now that I think about it) . Would also wonder how his sis would react to them hanging out-? 🤔

If it's not in your plans that's alright- either way, it gave me the strength to write for him and I am thankful for the food 🛐

Guess what this post is!!!! I was saving this ask so I could post part 2 with it or whateverrrr. I'm so giggle that so many people are interacting with that post, I didn't expect it to get such good reception!!

Also also, I do plan to write about how this Gyutaro definitely still raised his sister and is a bang up brother in spite of these mentalities he has! I have another ask that wants me to elaborate, and I'm planning on just making a big headcanon thing for him!!

PART ONE <-

CW// FEM READER// AFAB// BREASTED / Dub-con/Non-con (Gyutaro does something sexual under the guise he'll get laid, undiscussed BDSM dynamic)/ Panic Attack/ Vomit (not in a sex way) / Piss (kinda in a sex way)/ Sexism/ Incel mentalities/ Toxic Masculinity / Forced Bisexuality / BDSM dynamics / I say 'skullfuck' at one point / Gyutaro is reffered to as a toilet.

-Incel!Gyutaro's eyes had never even grazed a real dance floor, but there he was, at the big name club you'd dropped the location of 30 minutes ago. He'd hopped on his bike and sped there in what could only be called desperation.

-There wasn't a wait like in the movies. Not a big long line, and they let him in in his baggy jeans and stupid fucking Nietzsche shirt. He hadn't even realized he'd brought his bike helmet in until he was tossing it between his shaking, filthy hands.

-There were so many people. All of them taking their sweet time to gawk at his height and face. This was why he didn't leave the dorm. That and the abhorrent, terminally 2011 music.

-The photo had pissed him off. Bad. He'd come with the intention of a rematch (in your honor or whatever, he's not cringe enough to say that, though) and he planned to leave with you clinging to him like you were supposed to be.

-and obviously you were because there you were, hanging off Tengen Uzui's naturally bulging muscles with those 3 other mindless sluts. Not giving a fuck in the world about him or that skanky photo you sent.

-You were hard to spot in your slut disguise.

-You looked like every other girl there, and that pissed him off even worse, in a way. He had deluded himself into thinking you were good. Into thinking you were different from other females because you knew the bands and the movies, and you agreed when he implied that genetically you were just dumber-

-'Gyutaro!' You'd screech out as you locked eyes with the man. In the dark of the club, with the neon purple strobing over him, he looked almost daunting. With his helmet on one hip, and phone dangling from his other hand, Gyutaro had something similar to a western charm.

-You'd pop off of Tengen, who would only lift his head up to register the man, and then turn back to his girlfriends.

-The whole reason for their fight had been rather trivial, Gyutaro assumed, but, despite his lax appearance, Tengen did everything in his power not to smash the man's own helmet back over his head.

-He feared, along with Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, for your safety as you barreled into the man.

-You'd run into them with a new found confidence that night. After leaving Gyutaro in his sorry state, bounding up to the three women was far less intimidating. Almost like you shared a comraderie with them-

-and you had! The three were incredibly nice and immediately ushered you to Tengen where you all began to get a long in a picturesque fashion.

-You looked good. Hanging onto his arm with the other women felt good- You just had to take a photo.

-Gyutaro was going to panic. Tengen Uzui didn't scare him anymore, but that immediate jump from Tengen's arms to his, he didn't know how to satisfy that expectation.

-Of course he was better than Tengen- but on a "purely physical" level, he knew he would never have the stamina or prowess to conquer the bodies of three women at once.

-Especially not when he couldn't even fathom conquering you.

-'Ah, is this who you were talking about?' Tengen asked. You laughed in response, nodding with verve. Your body was beginning to shift against him- fuck-

-'Mhm, Gyutaro's my best friend.' You slurred, and it occurred to Gyutaro then, that you might be slighty inebriated. God, Tengen had an awful effect on you.

-His heart thudded at the words 'best friend' Despite your light and teasing cadence, were you friendzoning him? Would you just fuck any friend you had? Not that you fucked him- but you totally fucked him-

-'Oh?' Tengen sang in that stupid fucking tone that made Gyutaro want to rip off that girly fucking headband he wore. 'Have you slept with him?'

-Makio slapped Tengen's shoulder.

-'No, no- Not yet.' Gyutaro was panicking, now. Yet? Yet? You were planning to fuck hi-

-'Be careful.' Tengen sang. And that should've been the end of his thought, but maybe the drink he had was doing more than he expected, because Tengen couldn't fight the grin nor the words that spilled from his mouth after-

-'Tell him to try and last longer this time.'

-Gyutaro saw red, and blue, and maybe it was because of the weed air or the sex musk permeating past the bar- Maybe it was the anger he had at you for sharing such a thing about him- maybe it was because He'd been holding his breathe and plotting Tengen's downfall, and now he was-

-Who was he kidding, Gyutaro was going to fucking barf. The stress was too much, and his stomach rolled in response. He'd never been exposed to such an environment, or such an embarassment, and all he knew to do was turn away and try to keep it down until he got to the bathroom.

-'That was so mean!' Suma cried out as Gyutaro trudged away, attempt at disguising his mood futile. 'You made him cry!'

-'He literally called you a slut to your face at the start of the semester. What the fuck do you mean, mean?' Makio barked.

-You were in one of the gross stalls, pulling his scraggly black hair away from the rancid bowl. You weren't sure how he ate so much and still stayed so twig thin. He'd been puking for at least ten minutes.

-'I didn't expect you to come here.' You lied, having very much intended for that outcome. 'You think Tengen Uzui remembers every drunken, horny story he gets from a woman?'

-He was mortified. The idea that Tengen specifically knew something so intimate about him made him hear colors. Red colors. He was hearing the club lighting and seething at the red blur of the motion sensor on the toilet-

-The tile felt like splinters.

-'W-Why did you tell him that?' Gyutaro gasped out between spills. The question lacked his usual grit. It sounded genuine and hurt.

-He nodded lamely and went to drop his face onto the porcelain, but your hand swooped down.

-Your palm against his marred face was soothing. Lifting his head up from the toilet bowl, you wiped his mouth off with toilet paper.

-His heart fluttered. What a girlish emotion he was feeling.

-'I'm sorry.' You whispered and only semi meant it. Some of the things he said about women in the past months could've definitely validated such treatment. Some of the comments were bordering on illegal, others on beyond morally questionable.

-'It's okay.' He slurred, moving away from your hand to try and stop that flutter. You were quick to find his scar again, and, with hesitance losing to need, he rubbed against your palm.

-Cat. The word shot through your head and then retreated. No, no. A mangy cat. A cat with mange. Rabies, maybe even.

-'I wasn't crying or any-' as he began to speak, you pulled a small bottle of mouth wash out from your bag.

-'Tip your head back.' Gyutaro cut off his sentence and did as you said. The burn of the wash was painful. As he went to spit it out, you pressed a finger to his lips.

-'You get a gift if you can keep it in for the full minute.'

-It hurt. Gyutaro can't remember the last time he brushed his teeth, but the burn in his gums said he should do it more. He managed, though, and you followed through by pulling a tooth brush from your bag.

-Gyutaro had seen this plot before, in a hentai, probably, but he'd always imagined himself probing some innocent sweet trad girl's mouth with a tooth brush. Not being probed.

-You scrubbed plague off his teeth with precise intensity. His gums bled, and he whined. His jaw would occasionally stutter, and he'd bite down with enough force that you feared for your toothbrush.

-Another pass at the mouth wash and Gyutaro stared up at you, puffy lipped and teary eyed. You hadn't necessarily been gentle, nor had you avoided his gag reflex, but you leaned down to Gyutaro.

-His natural huffiness now had a pleasant bubblegum scent.

-When you pulled the vibrator from your pussy, Gyutaro nearly puked again. He hadn't noticed it in your sneaky photo, so seeing you hike your leg up on the toilet seat and pluck it from your insides made him see stars.

-Had you had that in the entire time? Had you told the other girls? Had you told Tengen?

-You dropped the vibrator into his lap. Not in his pants, not intentionally near his dick- on his lap. Gyutaro had taken on an all too natural kneeling position, and you dropped the vibe between the small gap of his thighs.

-Dull buzzing bounced up his thighs, vibratons too far to feel- And then you were pressing your cunt against his face, and he was taking in the scent of your pubes-

-He had been told that eating a woman out was a sign of submission. Got told it'd be gross, and to only do it when the situation was dire. And a situation with a female should never become dire- Having someone's genitals forced in his face like this-

-Gyutaro loved the smell of your pussy. The taste. His hands took to your thighs immediately, one slipping back to find the meat of your ass and bury his fingers in it.

-It would surprise you, how right he looked snug between your thighs. How his eyes fluttered back when he forgot he wasn't really supposed to be into this kind of thing.

-You could remember all of the things he said about vaginas. It often left you contemplating whether or not he found women attractive to begin with, but with his tongue rolling so naturally against your clit, you couldn't question it.

-He was made for this, both of you figured. Your warmth against his palate was ball tightening. He immediately took to it. You'd never seen such enthusiasm and love shown to your cunt.

-'Fuckkkkkk-' He'd moan, but with his tongue flat against you it came out in drool. His spit spilled onto his jean clad thighs, uncaring about anything other than eating you out.

-With his back against the toilet, and your hands gripping his hair, if you saw it from the back, it'd look like you were skullfucking the man. The thought made Gyutaro's already raging hard on twitch-

-And that's exactly how Tengen saw it when he opened the stall.

-'Oh?' He said, and you felt Gyutaro's grip tighten around your thighs. Today was just humiliation after humiliation, wasn't it? He knew by the stupid sing-song tone of the voice exactly who'd invaded his time with you.

-Black pulsed the corners of his vision.

-'Ah, Tengen-' You tried to keep your voice steady- not willing to let yourself be intimidated by a man his size in such a situation. Not infront of Gyutaro. He didn't need real life experience to back up forum rumors.

-'Can I use this toilet?' He nodded down to Gyutaro, and you looked down to the man between your thighs, a bit shocked by the ask.

- Gyutaro would pull off your cunt fast, wide eyed and all teeth.

-'What the fuck did you just s-' You lodged your fingers down his throat, Gyutaro gagging hurtfully against them. His eyes rolled back. He didn't know why having his mouth fucked with felt so good. It'd never felt this good when he was alone-

-'When I cum, yeah.' And Gyutaro was back on your pussy, a sudden fear lighting his movements. You wouldn't really let Tengen do that to him, right?

-Why was he depending on you, a woman, to prevent that? He should just get up and kick his ass- Tengen would have an advan...advantage.... an-

-Fuck your pussy was mind numbing. Fuck whatever Tengen wanted to do to him. He needed that juice.

-Gyutaro chased your orgasm. You were only slightly dissapointed he didn't cum with you- didn't show Tengen how good he could be. A part of you wanted to impress Tengen- to show off a little bit. Show what you tamed. Even if that taming was still very early in the works-

-When you came, Gyutaro smiled wide against your pussy. You pulled back with shaking legs and his head in your hands and he looked at you like Tengen wasn't pulling his cock from his boxers just centimeters away.

-'Just want your pussy, I need your pussy-' He slurred while you starred down at him.

-'If you drink it, I'll let you fuck me-' His ears would begin ringing. Shocked by his own actions, Gyutaro found his jaw unhinged, taking Tengen's flaccid cock down his throat.

-Maybe it was easier for him to accept because Gyutaro never dealt with penis envy. The two men were surprisingly matched. How unfortunate. You really wanted to see how Gyutaro would react to a cock that much bigger-

-Tengen took advantage of the willing hole, rocking his hips a bit much to Gyutaro's anger.

-'If you bite me, I'll drown you. Don't want to die with your head in a toilet, eh, Shabana?' Tengen taunted, sensing the upset from his thighs.

-You watched as Gyutaro's adam apple surged, and Tengen's head dropped back in relief. It was more than Gyutaro could take, obviously, because it began spilling from the corners of his mouth and onto his Neitzsche shirt.

-Gyutaro's face burnt red, and he reeked like piss. Tengen gave the other man's face a light, almost appreciative slap.

-As Tengen pulled out, a rush of piss came spilling onto the floor. He wasn't done though, a guiding hand locking around Gyutaro's jaw to tip his head up. The trickle was backed by the music blurring outside.

-His flow came to a stop, and he carefully shut Gyutaro's mouth. Gyutaro looked over at you with tired eyes.

-You nodded, and he swallowed.

-'Atta boy.'

-With Tengen's exit, you looked down at Gyutaro, dripping and still woefully hard. You pulled his messy hair back into a ponytail once more.

-'oh honey... when did I say you'd be fucking me tonight?'

-'Do I- Do I get to fuck you now?' He'd croak, trying to ignore the completely beer ridden piss on his lips. You looked at him so pathetically. It made his cock ache even worse than it already did.

-He could tell he wasn't going to get what he wanted before you even opened your mouth.

Nsfw drawing

Just a naked shiggy 👌

My my, this account is gold !😭🤌✨

Come Down to the Black Sea

Summary: The sea seems to call to you, but it’s not the tumultuous clash of the waves you should fear. Something lurks deep beneath the black waters, something sinister with a piqued interest and ill intent. 

Rating: Teen, unless I chose to post the later chapters. Then things get all dirty and stuff.

Warnings: Siren!Shigaraki. So, there’s that. Foul language, as always. Slight struggle.

Hello, please take my garbage. This was originally a discord exclusive ficlet that ended up too fucking long. I meant to post it a while back but got distracted. I’ve read over it and I hate it a lot more than I did originally, more than I can really convey, but I feel bad for not posting anything story related for a while and maybe some folks will enjoy this. I promise I edited, I swear. Never thought I’d write something like this. Ever. and by ‘like this’, I mean no filth less than 500 words in. Either way, here it is. 

“What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams.”

The sea is as much a constant to you as the gentle breeze that blankets your little port town. Every action you take daily in some small way reminds you that not so far away, the unforgiving tides are lapping hungrily at the shore and the restless ocean waters stir miles from the coast. Every breath you take is somewhat tinged with the briny smell of sea salt and slight sulfur. Seafood stalls and restaurants dot the coastal region, making up a large portion of the diets and employ of the folks who make their homes here. 

Yet, for as big of a part of their lives as it is, there is so little known about it. 

The ocean’s mysteries are as vast as her expanse and as deep as the trenches that lurk within her depths. 

Children are raised on cautionary tales, made acutely aware of the ever-present dangers of life near the open water. Rip currents and drowning, sailors lost at sea and boats that never make it to harbor. Hostile creatures that make their nests within the darkened deep  beyond the pale of human experience. These things are often as mysterious as they are tragic and leave behind loved ones mourning not only the loss of lives, but the answers they’ll never have.

Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if your kind has gotten just a bit too comfortable near the seaside. 

You’re not the only one that thinks so. 

Afficher davantage

Good Girl

Summary: It’s not your fault that your boyfriend was hard for people to warm up to. God, your parents are so lame. But so were you. So you did what anyone else with strict parents would, and you cut him off. 

Bad idea. 

Word count: 4k

Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, explicit content, kinda quiet sex, cunnilingus, praise, slight humiliation, unprotected sex, strict parents, toxic relationship with parents, AU - no quirks, no use of y/n, gets a little mushy at the end im sorry

You would rather be anywhere else but here. You would pay to be anywhere else but right here, right now being scolded like some teenager who had been caught sneaking out after curfew. But you were here and you weren’t going anywhere any time soon. 

“He’s just not good for you,” your father’s voice stressed. It dragged on, pulling you from your drifting thoughts. “You have so much ahead of you and we even agreed to this gap year so that you could figure out what you wanted to do, not so you could run around with some delinquent boy with no future–”

“He‘s not a delinquent,” You cut off, “you’re judging him without even giving him a chance.”

Your father sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, but knowing you inherited his stubbornness has never detoured him from taking your objections head on. He’s been on this earth longer than you, butting heads with others longer than you have. “Well, whatever he is, he’s not allowed to see you again. That’s final.” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. False air of nonchalance sending fury through your veins. 

There would be no more arguing and you knew it. You desperately look to your mother, who is in her usual stance of resignation and uselessness when it comes to his word. If she saw things your way, she would never say. And even if she agreed with you, there would be no change. It has always been your father’s way or no way. 

“I’m an adult, you can't tell me who I can and can’t see.” you try once more, not ready to end things here. It’s suffocating. 

He scoffs, bringing a hand up to count his fingers, “You live under our roof, you eat our food, you drive our car, you give me attitude when I agree to give you time to figure out your life when you decided to leave university after two semesters,” his voice is rising and you begin to feel your eyes burn with the threat of tears, your chest tightening as its harder to catch a breath. You can’t cry here, it would only make things worse.  “I don’t think it matters how old you are. I am done with this conversation. End things with him now or you won't have a pot to piss in by the end of the day.” 

This cannot be happening. You're still sat on the plush sofa of the living room as your father stalks off with your mother in tow. The latter only glancing back with an empty look of pity as you stare at where your father had just been. Words burned into your mind while hot tears finally break and run down your cheeks. This is really happening.

And Tomura was going to be upset.

In a perfect world you could meet up with him tonight, talk it over, or even run away together and leave all this behind, but you know better. You know the two of you haven’t dated long enough to warrant running away together, but it still crosses your mind. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it's painful to think you never will again. Tomura just made you feel so.. Alive. There was so much to him and his witty dry humor that keeps pulling you in. 

He’s cynical, he’s moody and sometimes he’s mean but god he could be so soft. Touch you in ways that felt like he reached your soul. Quiet nights where you would stay at his house and watch him play video games would turn into late night sessions of making love until the twilight of dawn peeked through the dark curtains of his room. There was no way you could let him go. But you had to. You had to. Your father had given you no other choice. So you take the coward’s way out.

You text him.

You send him a short text that would send you to the bathroom dry heaving, but you didn’t know what else to do. What more could you say other than your father had snapped at you and you both could no longer be together. It would hurt so much more facing him head on. You knew that if you had to speak to him face to face that you would crack, probably throw out your silly idea of running away together and then face the awkward rejection. This was all you could manage. You felt awful for it, finally forcing yourself off of the floor and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

It had been hours and there was no response from Tomura. You couldn't blame him. What could anyone say to a break up text? You hollowly hoped he would fight for you. Even a little. But the flat Read 14:57 showed you otherwise. This had now become a heartbreak you werent quite expecting. You couldn’t help but second guess every interaction you had with him before. If maybe you read into things a little too deeply. If maybe, some smaller, quieter part of you dreaded your father was right.

There was no use of dwelling on that now. No point in running through what you would never know. So, you sighed, and finished up in the bathroom. Slipping on your silk sleeping gown that stopped above your knees and adjusted the small straps on your shoulder. You had cried for hours after your argument – if you could even call it that– with your father was over and your face ached. The bags under your eyes showing the worse for wear state you had found yourself in. it would be okay, you told yourself. You just have to sleep it off. 

And that was your plan and you slid into your welcoming bed, soft comforter embracing you and your worn feelings. You feel more tears begin to sting behind your eyelids before there's a sudden tap at your window. 

A trick of the wind, you decide and return to your somber thoughts. 

You would have to move on eventually, but tonight? He was the only thing on your mind. His eyes, his hair, the way he would feign annoyance when you were overly touchy, craving closer contact. He always indulged you. Always gave you more, you knew he liked it as much as you did. You were lovesick. 

Tap. 

There was that noise again. Louder than before as if someone had thrown a rock right at your window. The room was still and quiet so you knew it hadn’t been your imagination. 

Jumping to your feet and shuffling towards the window in question you brushed your curtains to the side to see the possible culprit. And when you do, your heart drops and instant regret fills you. Stomach aching as you take in the sight before you.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki and he is pissed.

Tomura, your Tomura leering up at you with another rock resting in his hand, bigger and ready to be tossed at your window if the last attempt didn’t work. 

You look around, knowing no one is in your bedroom but yourself and the moonlight, then go to open your window, ducking your head out to get a better look at him. There he was, black hoodie oversized and so soft, red eyes burning in anger but you aren't scared. You’re relieved, it's him. He's here to see you, mouth turned down in a scowl and fists clenched in fury but he was here. 

You couldn’t stop your hushed whisper, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.” Was his only reply before he dropped the rock and walked towards your window. It wasn’t terribly high up, but higher than he could reach without a bit of help from you. 

Now that he was closer you could see the anger in his posture much more clearly. All tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. It was enough to make your stomach turn. You couldn't help but worry your bottom lip as he pulled out his phone and took a step closer.

“Really? Over a fucking text message?” He hissed, rasp in his voice, uncaring of the time of night or who could hear. 

“Tomura, shh, please–” you tried, hands coming up to placate him, if only a little. Your father would have your head if he heard another man in his home, let alone Tomura Shigaraki. 

He huffed a sarcastic laugh, disbelief taking over his features, but he obliged, “I don’t care what your father told you. He can’t control who you talk to.”

You shake your head, the all too familiar sting of tears in your eyes threatening to fall, “I know. I told him that, but he threatened to kick me out, to cut me off. I’m sorry Tomura, but I can't.”

“He can't do that.”

You nod, knowing all too well that your father would go through with his threat. “He can. Technically. I'm an adult, so it’s his choice.” The tears fall now, seeing the rage dissipate from Tomura, slight drop of his shoulders showing disbelief and disappointment. It's too much. This is why you didn’t want to see him, couldn’t face him. “I'm so sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to wrack your body and possibly wake your parents up. This could not have ended worse.  “I don't want it to be this way.”

“Wow, I didn't know you were such a good girl.”

Your breath hitches, caught off guard, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “I didn't know you did everything daddy says. What a good girl you are.” The tone is one you’re familiar with. Condescending. Challenging. He’s testing you.

Your cheeks flushed. What could you say? That you’re not a good girl, actually. Then what would that make you? A bad girl? You would walk right into his trap. He’s watching, waiting for a response. Something to make you slip up. 

You don't have the chance to respond before he’s taking a step forward, lifting your chin with a finger so that you could look him in the eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room those crimson eyes looked into your own. Like he was delving deeper, looking for the response that you can't seem to give him. Nothing else matters in this moment. It’s just him and you and the pale moonlight dancing between you. The air is tense and unmoving, like the smallest noise, the faintest blow of wind would ruin this moment. 

You couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait another minute before your body moved, leaning forwards onto the tips of your toes to give you more leverage as your lips pressed to his. His lips were still cold and dry from the cool air outside but that didn’t matter. Nothing matters more than knowing you needed more of him and you needed it now. Tomura’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and the kiss deeper. Taking all of you in as his other hand gripped your waist. 

Your hands wasted no time burying into his hoodie – so soft and worn–  the faint smell of citrus and cedar being a comfort as the intoxicating kiss deepened. Tomura wasted no time, slick tongue entering your mouth, hungry, like it was the last time you would have him this way. It was too much. It was not enough. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva following the short distance you put in between. Air seemed sparse, like you couldn't get enough and Tomura spoke before you could.

“Get on the bed.” 

And you did, newfound vigor in your step as you eagerly did as what you were told. Energy ebbing through your veins as excitement overtook your previous anxiety. Tomura was a mere step behind, discarding his hoodie without care and joining you on the bed, caging you beneath him as he dove back in for another kiss, wet and warm, before trailing lower. Open mouthed kisses to your jaw, then neck, his hands, rough and warm gripping your thighs, taking in all he can. After leaving a particularly hard bite on your neck, Tomura lifted your gown up, smooth silk gliding with ease above your ass and resting below your breast. It was only natural for your legs to spread for him, cool air on your bare cunt making you shiver. 

“Oh?” An amused huff from the man above you makes your cheeks heat further than before. He’s seen you like this many times before, but he’s always had a way of making you feel shy. “No panties, huh?”

You push past your embarrassment. “You know i dont wear them to b– ah!” you're cut off by the feeling of his finger sliding between your folds, slick making it glide, and rubbing over your clit. The surprise of the motion makes you press your thighs closer together. Tomura grins above you, before bringing his wet finger to his mouth, a mocking shh following the motion, tongue flicking out and licking the digit as his other hand pushed your legs apart again. 

He bends down, bulge in his sweatpants pressing against your bare cunt. He’s so hard and that thought only makes you wetter. Tomura’s nose brushes yours, your eyelids fluttering shut as he dives to kiss you again. All open mouthed and wet. You could taste yourself on his tongue as well as feel the pressure of his clothed erection grind against you, rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You are sure your slick is dampening his sweatpants but Tomura doesn’t care. He’s grinding you into the mattress and you’re so close to begging him to get on with it you want to scream. But almost like he’s read your mind, he pulls away. 

The kisses he places along your body set your nerves on fire, anticipation eating away at your patience as he takes his time. Once he’s reached his destination, right between your thighs, he places one wet kiss onto the plush of your inner right thigh. Another teasing move. Another way to make you squirm in excitement. He looks up at you, ruby eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the room. 

“Be quiet for me, yeah?” 

Tomura huffs a laugh at your eager nod, grin growing wider. So quick to please. Dedicated. “Good girl.”

The praise makes you falter for a second, embarrassment threatening to make its way to the surface once more. There was no time for it now, Tomura enjoyed catching you off guard. Loved surprises. He wastes no more time, tongue licking a wet strip between your lips. The action causing you to moan louder than you intended. Your hand rushes to cover your mouth. If you were to be caught in this predicament by either of your parents it would be horrendous for the both of you. 

This doesn’t stop Tomura, though. If anything you were starting to think it encouraged him, because his relentless pace on your cunt was driving you wild. His long stripes simmered into just the tip of his tongue flicking your clit and  sending jolts of pleasure roaring through you. You were already close, pleasure and pressure building and building until you were so close to tipping over– 

Knock knock.

“Hey sweetie. I know it's late, I just wanted to talk for a second.” 

It was your mom. Holy shit it was your mom and there's a boy in your bed with his head buried between your legs and holy shit. If she opened the door, if she barged into your room in the familiar way she always had a bad habit of doing, you would be done for. With wide eyes and accelerated breaths, you clamped down harder over your mouth with both hands. Even Tomura stopped in his tracks, gaze lazily focused on the door with curiosity bleeding into his indifference. 

Your mother must have taken the silence as a sign of slumber, yet she continued. Voice muffled by the door between you both. 

“Your father... was harsh today. And I’m sorry for that.” She pauses, long enough for you to believe she would be giving up and going back to her bedroom. You aren't so lucky, surely at this point you were very unlucky and you dreaded whatever else she had to say. “I just want you to know that he just wants the best for you.” your heart drops as she carries on, unaware and unconcerned of the other pair of ears listening in to her words. “We don’t know him that well. We can't risk you getting involved in something you're not ready for and throwing your future away.”

At this, Tomura rolls his eyes, interest clearly lost and goes back to his earlier movements. The sloppy kiss to your clit catches you off guard and forces a whine out of you. It was small, but still a noise. Squeezing your eyes shut you prayed this would be written off as an odd sleep noise. Wishing to the sky that it wasn't noticeable and Tomura would stop. He didn’t. It was in that moment he decided pressing a finger against your entrance would bring out more noises. The digit slipping in with minimal effort and adding more pleasure to this mix as he sucked your clit. 

If your mother heard anything, she didn't make it known. The floorboards outside of your door creaking with the shifting of her weight. “Well, maybe we can get ice cream or something tomorrow. Have a little girl’s day?” The silence is palpable as she waits for an answer that won't come. “Okay well, goodnight sweetie. See you in the morning.”

You don’t know what you're more grateful for; the sound of her receding steps or that fact that Tomura wasn't cruel and waited until the telltale sound of a door opening and closing rang through the air before adding another finger and curling them. This time you couldn’t bite back the moan that escaped you, hands gripping the cotton of your duvet. 

“Aw, how sweet,” Tomura started, sitting up while adding a thumb to your sensitive nub and rubbing slow circles to replace his mouth. “She wants to have a little girls’ day with you.” 

His mocking tone would have gotten a reaction out of you any other time, but right now you were so close. On the precipice of an orgasm that’s been drawn out for far too long. You could only look at him with half lidded eyes as his fingers worked like magic sending you closer and closer, your breath hitching as you finally, finally reached the climax. Body shaking pleasure cascades over you like a tidal wave. 

“There we go,” Tomura whispers, giving your cunt a playful tap after letting you ride the sensation out. He pulls away completely to take off his sweatpants and underwear, cock already hard and leaking. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight and you hear his breathless chuckle. “I’ll let you have a taste next time, but right now, I can't wait any longer.” 

It was only when he began to line up with your entrance that you absently wondered about the lack of condoms you owned. You look up at him, question burning on your tongue but he only grins at you, and you swore in that moment he was a mind reader. “I didn’t bring any with me, sorry,” his voice was far from apologetic as he stroked his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and against your clit, slick soaking the head. “But don't worry,” he continued, leaning forward and you felt the pressure at your entrance, excitement buzzing through your veins. “I’ll pull out.”

Whether you believed him or not didn’t matter, you had no time to process a thought as he began stretching you to the limit with his size. A gasp escaped your parted lips as the sickeningly sweet feeling of being stretched too far too fast took over. He gave you a minute to adjust, even as his cock twitched in anticipation of movement. The grip he had on your hips was tight enough to bruise and you knew it was taking a lot of his self control to wait for you. 

He pressed on, figuring it had been long enough and bottomed out with a sigh. Your walls clenched around him and swore you could cum from the stretch alone. After giving you a second to breathe he pulled back, almost pulling out, only to snap his hips back forward into you. Your head lolled onto the pillow, hand coming up once more to mute the moans dragging from your body. Tomura hoists your legs onto each side of his shoulders,bending them forward and successfully folding you like a lawn chair as he started his aggressive pace, forcing your tight heat to clench around his cock. 

“Oh, fuck…” you couldn’t help but mutter as you struggled to hold off your already approaching orgasm. 

Tomura saw this as a challenge. “What? You gonna cum on my cock?” he mocked, pace wild and rough, leaving you gasping as you shut your eyes, not ready to admit how right he was. “It's okay,” he continued, leaning closer and allowing his dick to press deeper inside you. The drag hitting the bundle of nerves inside and nearly sending you over the edge. “Come on, cum on my cock like the good girl you are.” 

Those words push you over, hips convulsing as your legs shake and it takes Tomura slapping a hand over your mouth this time to quiet you. You couldn’t focus on anything else, let alone keeping quiet. Your body felt light and Tomura fucked you through it. His pace grew more erratic as his grinning face became one of focus, brows furrowing as his eyes shut and he focused on his pleasure. Your pussy squeezing around him making it harder for him to stave off his own nearing climax. You were worried that at this point you were both too far gone. The silence of the home would leave the messy noises between you both loud and clear for the entire house to hear. Tomura was great at keeping his composure but the soft groans coming from your lover only showed how much he was losing his grip. 

“Can’t– fuck, sorry–” you didn’t have time to decipher his strange words, your curious eyes meeting his face to gauge his expression before you feel it. 

His cock twitches inside you, seed painting your insides white as his thrusts didn't slow. He was hammering away at your insides, only pumping his cum further into you.  You feel so full, the warmth spreading over your body like a blanket. He came in you. Even though he said he wouldn’t, he did. The worst part about it? You don’t care. It's invigorating. You feel even more attached to him. Even closer. You want more.

Overstimulated and weak, you whimpered, thoughts swimming as Tomura finally came down from high. Slowing his thrusts and panting heavily. Your heart is drumming against your chest as he removes your sore legs from his shoulders. Shuddering as he slips out of your tight heat, feeling the cum dripping out of you and onto your sheets. 

The bed dipped as he took his place next to you. Out of breath and eyes focused on the ceiling. Your ears were ringing with the sudden quietness of it all. Things felt different, heavy. 

“You could always just not tell them.” It was Tomura who broke the silence first. “Act sad, mope around, and then come see me at night.” 

You glanced over, vaguely registering the sweat cooling on your body. You would need to get up and get cleaned up soon. “Yeah, but if they catch me–”

“They won't. I’ll teach you how.” he turns towards you, bringing a hand to your chin to make you face him. There’s a fuzzy feeling turning in your chest and the familiarity of heat rising to your cheeks is starting to drive you mad. His grin is enamoring, red eyes almost glowing with mischief in the moonlight. “I’ll show you the ropes.” 

There's an ache that tugs at your chest as you nod. “Okay.”

You are so fucked.

➳ tomura shigaraki x female! reader

╰┈➤ word count; 1423

╰┈➤ drabble; dubious consent, season one shigaraki (not buff lol), cervix fucking, rough sex, dacryphilia kink, creampie, unprotected sex, manhandling, yn has an immune quirk.

shigaraki has your hands pressed to the small of your back.

where your skin is warm, his is so cold.

his quirk does not turn you to dust. no! you are different from all the others. you are special.

maybe too special for your own good because that is the reason you wound up here.

he is panting, sweat lined along his hairline. you are crying so much but he cannot help that it only makes him fuck you harder.

he does not have one bit of restraint.

he does not like that you seem so miserable, he swears he is doing this out of love. he wants to make you feel good. really! he just gets a little rough.

he just gets so caught up in how tight your cunt is, how wet you are, how your gooey walls clamp down on him.

he pounds into your leaking slit until he is bruising you. he does not prep you despite the agonising stretch he subjects your pussy to.

shigaraki is sorry, truly he is!

he hunches over you, his bony chest meeting your back. his balls are squished between your bodies as he presses on the small of your back and ruts into you. it is borderline painful.

he puffs heated breaths, "don't cry s'much." he slurs. he leans down to cover your swollen lips in a messy kiss. he licks into your drool filled mouth, silencing your sobs and a few kisses are all it takes to have you fawning for him again.

you take any and every thing that he is willing to give you.

"don't like it like this." you whine when he pulls away, the strand of saliva sticking to your chin as you mush your face to the sheets.

you say that yet you are pushing your ass back on him. you say that but your cunt is tightly gripping his cock like you need it to survive.

he sneers, nails digging into your flesh, the jagged edges nicking the skin. his cock slips out halfway, covered in slick, so much that it drips between your thighs.

everything is sticky and your eyes squeeze at the feeling. he shoves back in roughly making you jolt.

"but your pussy likes it. your little cunt likes being filled with cock, she's soaking for it." your fingers flex under his hold, you can feel his eyes burning into you, can feel his body against your skin, you wish you could hide.

you cannot at all, not when he is pressing down on your back and has you at his whim. has you in a position where he can fuck you as hard and fast as he wants.

"i want to see your face." you brokenly speak, his spit slick tongue comes out to lave over your cheek, licking up your tears as he pounds his cock into you.

"you are so fucking spoilt." shigaraki's gravelly voice fills you ear, his free hand slips under you, rolling your stilted bundle of nerves.

the pert of his nipples grazes on your back with every sharp movement that has his cock prodding at your cervix. has it dipping deep in your slurping cunt and stretching your hole until it fits perfectly around him.

"fuckkk." he drawls, your body is so soft, so comfortable. you whine, your ass pushing more into him, your body moving with his thrusts. he is putting all his weight onto you, forcing you into the bed completely.

his hand squeezing your neck so tightly you gasp. his jaw hangs, spit trailing down the side of his mouth as his eyes roll back. he is not focused on you, he is focused on how good your slick cunt feels.

how your insides seem to suck him in and grip his cock. it feels like you are milking him dry, like you are squeezing his release out of him and into your pussy.

shigaraki's movements grow sloppy, his strokes are no longer full. his body shakes, humping you shallowly but somehow it hits every spot inside of you.

he is fucking into you with desperation, loud paps and squelches fill the room as your cunt tugs him in.

the swollen walls of your warm insides make it difficult for him to function. he feels like he is short circuiting.

"shouldn't feel this good!" he whimpers. you turn him into a mindless freak who only cares about sticking his cock in your warm, soaking hole.

he hates that you have that power over him.

your ass feels bruised at this point, his pelvic bones colliding with your skin so often you wince.

he is forceful and uncaring, vigorously fucking you with everything in him and his hips stutter before he is releasing heavy drops of his load into you.

you grit your teeth, not able to move with how he forces you down onto the sheets. his hips rock, head leaning back and his lips parted.

it is so hot and thick, it feels like your stomach is bulging from the amount. he is still humping you whilst his cock spurts streams of his load along your walls.

the milky cream coating your cunt and leaking its way into your puckered cervix. he collapses onto your back, your clit rubbed raw although you have not came once.

shigaraki pants, still grinding into the swell of your ass to fuck his seed back into you. the excess spews past the perimeter of his length, making your cunt messier.

he covers you, using all of his weight to keep you pinned to the mattress and only focused on him.

despite your squirming, he is unmoved.

"stop your fucking whining." he pinches your nipple. "your pussy feels good." he says it like it is the most renowned compliment in the world. like it does not reduce you to one thing alone. he nuzzles your cheek like he was not awful just a moment before.

you eyes are still teary, "nothing else?" you mumble. he shakes his head but it is only to get you angry. to see your lips tremble and tears fill your eyes. to see how hard you try not to cry but fail.

he knows you want to move but you cannot in this position.

not when he has you trapped beneath him, your cunt filled to the brim with his cock and his cum.

"get off!" shigaraki does not like when you talk to him like that. his teeth nip at your throat.

"be nice to me." he rasps. you want to but when has he ever been nice to you?

you can still feel his cum dripping inside you while his heavy body is flushed to you. you can barely breathe when he has you secured under him by lean muscle.

you are not sure how long he keeps you in the puddle of his semen before he pulls out.

his cock bobs between your legs as he sits up, you are wincing at the feeling. the slick mess of his cum leaks out of you.

you feel dirty.

he does not bother asking, his rough fingers tug you to face him but you slump further into the sheets.

you hear him huff at your resistance and then he is forcing you unto your back.

he hovers over you, thick strands of hair hanging down and framing his features.

"i thought you wanted to see my face." you did. you wanted to more than anything else. in a way you like to pretend that he is yours as much as he says you are his.

your eyes trail over his pretty red eyes and his blushed skin. his swollen lips and his sunken cheeks. you want him closer.

he should be the last person you find comforting but you cannot help that you do.

your hand strokes his aching cock, thumb massaging the prominent vein on the underside.

he lurches forward his stiffening erection meeting your slit. you mutely cry as he shoves it inside all at once.

he groans lowly, rocking his hips before his lips meet yours. he sloppily kisses you as he fucks his cum back inside of your cunt.

your hands greedily find purchase in his skin, trying to convince yourself that you mean something to him.

he takes and takes with no consideration. perhaps this is your purpose. to give without a care.

to give shigaraki every bit of you.

it only made sense for someone with a quirk like yours.

i rly rly want to write a daddy kink drabble/fic 😣

Thanks!you anwser so fast too like damn!✨✋

Hiii i just discover your account it's so cool ! What about shigaraki with a darling that litteraly worship him ? 🧐

Have a nice day/night✨🛐

TOMURA/READER WHO WORSHIPS HIM HC!

A/N: gulps nervously in my tomura collection worth $1k+.. what..worship this guy? hah, never heard of it

(cough sidenote: utahime/urame whatever her name is and sukuna or xielian and huacheng...)

WARNINGS: nsfw under the cut! ooc tomura?, subby-ish tomura

oh my god this boy is sweating, confused, scared, angry.

he's sweating because he's shocked and nervous! how would he even react to someone holding him in their arms and whispering praises into his ear?

he's confused, where did this come from? why does he deserve this? are you serious or are you being sarcastic?

he's scared because there's an odd feeling in his chest that hurts yet feels so good, it outweighs the feeling of hatred that burns so deep within him.

he's angry because he thinks your a spy or is playing a cruel joke on him, that one day this will all just stop or your just using him to your own gain.

you have to try and try for weeks on end to show that your not going anywhere and that you genuinely worship him for who he is.

once he settles in and realizes your treating him like some sort of god, or how people idolize and admire stain/all might with genuine love in your heart he short circuits for awhile.

he lays in your arms quietly as he feels you kiss around his body and tell him that he did such a good job, how handsome he is, how much you love him, how much you care and how much all you wanna do to him is..take care of him.

he'll try and push you off and say something along the lines of 'you're being annoying/stupid, cut it out' or he'll say something cocky, 'you really see me as a god or something, huh? that sounds about right for a king like me.'

once it genuinely sinks into all of him that your being real and not playing with him, it all goes to his head and his dick he becomes more cocky but whenever a plan fails he falls so much harder than he would've if you weren't around.

he loves your kisses and will sulk if you don't give him atleast 5 per 10 minutes like you usually do.

cup his face and shower him with kisses, praise, tell him how handsome he is as your cuteness aggression kicks in and you squeeze his cheeks like they're your life line.

head? blank. mind? off.

even though he becomes more cocky/egotistical, he still short circuits and shuts down for a moment because..what?

he doesn't know what he did to deserve you (besides being a gross ugly gamer boy who should go eat a cup noodle) but he definitely thinks it's because all his hardwork and dedication to master got you by his side.

please be patient with him, if he ever sees you upset with him he might actually go insane.

NSFW under the cut!

he loves getting a handjob from you while he suckles on your chest and you whisper sweet things,

he cums so fast when you hug him from behind, one hand stroking his cock and the other playing with his nipples and stroking his chest while you whisper praise into his ear and leave hickeys on his scarred neck or shoulders.

when you praise him, sometimes it just immediately gets him erect, even if you didn't say anything inherently sexual.

he will watch with eyes blown wide or barely open (depends on how long you've been going) as you suck his cock and treat him with utmost care.

yes he is a pillow prince.

he loves it when you treat him like a valuable jewel that could shatter at the slightest touch, your gentle squeezes, your slow and tender kisses, your praise, it all swirls in his head and makes him cum, even if it's just foreplay.

he loves the aftercare, when he's laying down on his stomach and a pillow on his chest as you carefully use wipes to clean his cock, makes him hard all over again.

the aftercare where you shower with him? now he's not sure, he'll say he can bathe himself yet the soft moans he lets out whenever you lather soap on his body or dig your fingers into his hair says he would rather have you bathe him.

cuddles, cuddles please. he needs that.

atleast an hour or 30 minutes of you cuddling him, petting him and telling him how good he did for you, he will sulk if he doesn't get this.

when he's the one mostly in control he's so rough and mean, well..as rough as a lanky twink can get.

he loves watching you cry for him or having you tell him how good you feel, goes straight to his cock.

tell him to go harder, faster, deeper or tell him you're about to cum quick, he loves it, he loves it all.

when your giving him oral, he will just straight up hump/facefuck you, he loves the adoring look in your eyes, it makes him so hard.

—Ake 2024

When he knows you dont like to be carried, but he does it anyway. So you hang on, like you're about to fall. LOL

My "realistic" (totally not biased) Shigaraki HC's

has extreme touch aversion, but craves it at the same time. it's a never ending cycle of wanting to fuck someone's brains out, but then getting disgusted at someone brushing up against him.

decent hygiene... most of the time. if he's really busy, chances are he probably won't even change his clothes. good luck with handling the dick cheese.

his voice breaks during sex, quite a lot. it makes dirty talk sound silly at first, but he gets the hang of it. if he's receiving head, he won't stop blabbering. he'd say the most vile shit, while his voice would be switching from raspy to comically high-pitched.

pre-experimentation Tomura doesn't have an impressive cock. it's probably average by all means, maybe even thinner than the norm. but post-experimentation though... all of that shit Dr. Garaki did definitely had an effect on his entire body, dick included.

high sex drive, but lazy. he probably wants you to do the work most of the time, unless he has some pent up emotions to release. get ready for the entire LoV to hear your screams by the time Tomura is done with you. he wouldn't even bother undressing you fully, as long as he has a hole to fuck, he doesn't care.

disgustingly perverted without realizing it. if you leave dirty clothes on the bed, he'll sniff them until his dick gets painfully hard. if you're not there to help him out, he'll grab a pair of your used panties to jack off with. never question him about the cum stains, it makes him annoyed.

never. submissive. i can't imagine a single scenario where Tomura would willing give up control and let another person hold all the power over him.

not that kinky. The dom-sub dynamics would always be at play, but bondage and anything else that takes more time and effort, would rarely happen.

hates you touching him randomly, but always has his hands on you in some way. whether it be an innocent pat on the shoulder, or full on groping you when he feels like it, he has to do something with his hands. you're like his fidget toy.

but you cannot do the same. maybe he'll let you get away with it once in a while, but Tomura will shamelessly move your head away if you try to rest it on his shoulder. god forbid that you try to do it while someone else is around.

extremely possessive. he doesn't get jealous, because he believes that everyone is beneath him. you're more like a possession that only belongs to him. and no one is stupid enough to try anything with you. most of the time. if someone gathers the courage to try and flirt with you, Tomura would kill the person on the spot, regardless of their importance. what's his shall never be taken away, and he makes it very clear.

Enough to Go By -- a Shigaraki x F!reader fic

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

Chapter 1

You had a best friend when you were little, just like almost everyone, and the two of you were as different as two people could be. He was a boy and you were a girl. You were the oldest of four, and he was the youngest of two. His family was rich because his dad was some kind of business genius, and your family was – not. You and your best friend had exactly two things in common. First, you lived across from each other on the same street, him in a big new house and you in one that had been falling apart since before your parents were born. And second, and maybe most important, neither of you had a quirk.

It was okay for your best friend. He still had time. People in his family got their quirks when they were two or three or four or maybe even six, like they were supposed to. But everyone in your family is born with theirs. Your family’s quirks do different things, but they’re the same type of thing – powering up or watering down or just changing some part of somebody else, and they’re active until the person’s old enough to turn them off.

You hated being home. You had one younger brother who could turn your hearing up and down, one younger sister who could turn your color vision on and off, and twin baby brothers who could make you throw up whenever they wanted to. Going to school, or going across the street to play in front of Tenko’s house with him and his big sister and his dog, was the closest things ever got to normal for you.

Tenko wanted to be a hero. You knew he’d be the best hero, because he was a hero already, even without a quirk. Nobody was every left out when you and Tenko played at school, because Tenko could make everybody feel included, and you spent so much time trying to placate your siblings that you knew how to make sure everybody had fun. But for everybody to have fun, people needed to be there. Tenko was the one everybody believed in, the one who made everybody feel important. When you spent time with Tenko, you felt like you belonged. Tenko was already a hero, even as a kid. You knew he’d be amazing at it when he grew up.

Only he didn’t grow up, your best friend. You walked home from school together one day, said goodbye and crossed to your opposite sides of the street, and when you looked out your window the next morning, Tenko’s house was gone.

A villain did it. That’s what everybody said, and you didn’t know what else it could be, because Tenko’s house was in ruins, like a giant had smashed it with its foot or someone had blown it up from the inside. You raced across the street without your shoes on, right into the middle of what was left, and even though your parents spent money they didn’t have on a specialist whose quirk let them wipe memories right out of your brain, you still have nightmares sometimes about what you saw. Tenko’s big sister Hana was dead. His dog was dead. His mom and his grandparents and his dad were dead. But he wasn’t there, so you made yourself believe he was alive.

And some part of you kept believing, even after the foundations of an apartment building were laid over the spot where Tenko’s house used to be, even after your family moved away. Your youngest younger siblings, a set of triplets born after you moved, thought Tenko was your imaginary friend because of how much you talked about him. And even once you stopped talking about him, you never quite stopped thinking about him. Your best friend, who wanted to be a hero. Who would have been the greatest hero the world had ever seen.

Everyone else forgot him, forgot him so cleanly that you almost wonder if it was a quirk. But you remember your best friend – small things, weird things, like how he’d sometimes get so excited he’d almost cry. His All Might impression, which was so bad it almost worked. His dry skin and the way he’d scratch his neck. You wonder what happened, why he wasn’t found with his family. You wonder a lot of things.

“Everybody loses touch with their neighborhood kids,” Hirono says when you say something about it, while you and your friends are getting drunk in Kazuo’s backyard one weekend. “You’re not special.”

“Don’t be mean,” Yoshimi protests. “Her friend died. That’s different!”

“She just said he didn’t die. She thinks he’s still alive,” Sho says. He whistles and rotates one finger by his ear. “Cuckoo.”

“There should be a podcast about this,” Mitsuru says seriously, and Hirono and Mitsuko laugh at him. “No, there should! Five people confirmed murdered and a kid goes missing – and it’s never solved? That’s podcast material.”

“It’s newsworthy,” Kazuo says, his voice as expressionless as it always is these days. “Have you looked it up?”

“Yes,” you say. Too many times, probably. “The articles don’t say my friend went missing.”

“They said he died?”

“They don’t mention him at all.”

“Ooh. Spooky.” Sho makes a UFO noise, and Yoji, Yoshimi’s on-again, off-again asshole boyfriend, throws in some spiritfingers to go with it. “Maybe he’s imaginary after all.”

“Or maybe you do have a quirk,” Yuichiro, Mitsuko’s latest too-innocent boyfriend says earnestly. “Your family’s all status effects, right? Maybe you made everybody else forget him.”

“Why would I do that?” you ask blankly. You’re a little drunk. “He’s my best friend.”

“I thought I was your best friend,” Kazuo says. Kazuo’s also a little drunk. “You don’t have a quirk. I would know. I know everything.”

The confidence is annoying, or it would be, if it wasn’t true – and if you didn’t know just how badly Kazuo’s quirk has ruined his life. “Maybe not,” Ryuhei says speculatively. “You only know what you know to know, you know?”

You try to parse that for a second, then give up. Mitsuru is wheezing with laughter. “Come on,” Ryuhei says, annoyed. “You know what I mean. Kazuo only knows the answers to questions he knows to ask, right? What if he hasn’t asked the right question?”

Kazuo’s quirk is called Search Engine, and it’s not an overstatement. He can ascertain anything he asks about, and if the questions aren’t hyperspecific, he can take in vast amounts of information. Too much information for even the smartest person to sort through and interpret without going crazy under the strain. He was going to be a hero, but UA High pushed him too hard, and something went wrong in his head. The smartest guy you know, who used to be funny and kind and should be changing the world for the better right now, is instead drunk in his parents’ backyard, still trying to figure out where his emotions went. You haven’t seen Kazuo care about anything in two years.

But you can see him thinking about what Ryuhei said, trying to wrap his mind around a question. “Don’t,” you say, and he looks at you, puzzled. “If I had a quirk, I’d have had it when I was born, just like the rest of my family.”

“Your family has some funky quirks,” Yoji says. You have a feeling you know where he’s going with this, and you’re not wrong. “Isn’t one of your cousins a villainess?”

“She barely counts,” Hirono says. “What could they even charge her with if they caught her? Possession of a video camera and bad taste in men? They could charge Yoshimi with that, too.”

“Hey!”

Sho and Ryuhei join in on the ribbing, and you lean back against the steps. Kazuo rises from his chair a little unsteadily and comes to sit by you. “You never mentioned this friend of yours before.”

“It never came up.” You glance sidelong at him. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“No,” Kazuo says. He hiccups. His alcohol tolerance has always been weirdly low. “I’m surprised you never asked me to find him. Maybe I could.”

“I know.” If Kazuo ever recovers from what UA High did to him, the government will be all over him. He could find anything, anyone – but like Ryuhei said, he has to know what questions to ask. “I think I’m scared of what you’d find. I don’t want him to be dead.”

“Dead might be better.”

You almost choke on the sip of vodka you just took. “Excuse me?”

“If he died, he died,” Kazuo says. No shit. “If he’s still alive, he’s been missing for fifteen years. During my work-study, I assisted in the search for several missing children. Nothing good had happened to the ones we found alive.”

You hadn’t thought about that, what it would actually mean if Tenko is still alive, and your brain supplies you instantly with a list of terrible things that could have happened to your best friend. Your imagination is pretty vivid. Your stomach turns. “I don’t want that,” you say. “I just want him to be okay.”

“Sometimes dead is better,” Kazuo says again. And then he’s quiet.

You try to get back into the mood of the party, but what Kazuo said sticks, and you’re kind of mad at him about it. The old Kazuo wouldn’t have said something like that, or else he would have put it more gently. You miss the old Kazuo. Thanks to a villain fifteen years ago and UA fucking High, you’re now short two best friends.

Kazuo’s a good guy, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t drawn to him because of who he reminded you of. You have a soft spot for dark-haired boys who want to be heroes. If Tenko hadn’t gone missing and the two of you had gotten to grow up together, you probably would have wound up with a big, stupid crush on him, the supercharged version of how you felt about Kazuo. But a relationship between the two of you wouldn’t have worked out, for the same reason your relationship with Kazuo didn’t work. Being a hero comes first. Being a hero always comes first with guys like them. You probably wouldn’t like them as much if it didn’t.

Getting drunk at Kazuo’s is a typical Friday night pastime among your friends, and usually everybody sleeps over. Everybody usually includes you, but you have to work tomorrow, which means you have to go home. Sometimes you and Kazuo still fool around when you’re both drunk, and you want to avoid that, too. You drink a glass of water and start sobering up while the others are still sorting out places to sleep, and then you tell them all good by and head out, taking three trains in a loop around the city to give yourself even more time to sober up before you have to walk home. You don’t live in the nicest neighborhood. You need to be alert.

When you finally get off the train at your stop, you realize you’ve got another problem. You’re hungry, and you won’t have time to cook when you get home if you want to sleep at all tonight. The all-night convenience store a few blocks up from your apartment is beckoning to you, and you give in without a fight. You’ll pick something to eat, eat it in the store for one last period of sobering-up, and walk the rest of the way home.

You feel a little better with a few bites of food in your stomach, and you’re pretty sure you’re not going to throw it up later. You hang out in the corner of the shop, a good spot to people-watch from if there were any people in here but you and the owner. The TV behind the counter is blaring the news about some villain attack, somewhere – two dumb-ass middle schoolers, one sludge villain, one can of whoop-ass opened by All Might. What else is new.

“Turn that shit off.”

The voice is raspy, and it’s coming from the far corner of the store. So there’s somebody else in here after all. You rise to your tiptoes and peer over the shelves to spot the speaker. They’re wearing a black hoodie with the hood up and browsing for energy drinks, and apparently they have a real problem with what’s on TV – which means the proprietor has a real problem with them. “Got a problem with heroics? Or does seeing real heroes just remind you what a bum you are?”

“Fuck off,” the guy in the hoodie says sharply. “You’ve got more in common with me than you do with them. If you were there, you think you’d run in to help? No. You’d wait for a hero, because you’re useless and pathetic. At least I don’t walk around pretending to be something I’m not.”

Hoodie guy sort of has a point, even if you don’t like how he’s phrasing it. Hoodie guy also sucks at reading the room, because after that little back-and-forth, he yanks an energy drink out of the case and a package of sour candies off a shelf and heads up to the counter. The proprietor laughs in his face. “Get out of here. If you think I’m selling even a stick of gum to you, you’re out of your mind.”

Hoodie guy’s shoulders tense. “You’re so desperate to defend All Might that you won’t take my money? He’s not gonna fuck you.”

You must be a little more drunk than you thought, because you have to clamp your hands over your mouth to stifle a laugh. But there’s nothing funny about the situation that’s unfolding in front of you. The proprietor’s looking increasingly pissed, and Hoodie Guy’s hands are out of his pockets, open and twitching at his sides. You don’t know what either of their quirks are, but you’ve got seven siblings. You know what it looks like when a situation’s about to spiral out of control.

“I said get out,” the proprietor spits. He shoves the drink and the package of candy back across the counter, hard enough that they fall off and roll across the floor. Hoodie Guy’s hands begin to lift from his sides, and you step out of your corner. “You want to start something? Go ahead. The cops will be here so fast –”

“Not fast enough for you,” Hoodie Guy hisses. His hands are all the way up, reaching over the counter.

You scoop the snacks off the floor and duck into the scant space between Hoodie Guy and the counter. You elbow him a bit by accident and he stumbles, swears at you. You ignore him and focus on the proprietor. “Hi. I’m still hungry. Can I get these?”

The proprietor squints at you, nonplussed. Behind you, Hoodie Guy’s gotten his feet under him, and if it’s possible, he’s extra pissed. “Get out of my way.”

“You don’t want this kind of trouble,” you say, ignoring Hoodie Guy. He’s the instigator. You need him to shut up so you can handle this before it escalates. “I know you don’t. You want him out of here and he wants his snacks. If you don’t want his money, mine’s just as good.”

You’re conscious of Hoodie Guy looming over your shoulder. He’s not all that much taller than you, but he’s standing a little too close. You take your wallet out, and that seems to settle the issue. “You’re lucky your girlfriend’s here to help you out. That’ll be ¥1800.”

You pay up and collect the snacks. When you turn away from the counter, Hoodie Guy’s right there, and you get your first good look at his face – or at the life-sized model hand clamped over his face. That’s – weird. You can’t see his expression, but his tone of voice is unmistakable. “If you think –”

“I know, I know,” you interrupt. “You’re not gonna fuck me.”

It’s not a joke you’d make sober, but with the proprietor calmed slightly down, you have to knock Hoodie Guy off his game somehow. It works. He makes a weird, strangled sound, and you grab him by his sleeve and tow him out the door.

He lets you do it, which is a surprise, and you let him go as soon as the doors close behind you. You hold out the snack and the energy drink. “Here.”

You can’t see his face, but you can see one red eye, peering out at you through the fingers of the hand. “It was pretty stupid of you to get in my way.”

“It was pretty stupid of you to go up to the counter. If you’d stormed off he wouldn’t have chased you.” You’ve seen Sho use that tactic before – needle a store owner until they want him gone more than they want to check his pockets. “Just take this, okay?”

He raises one hand and scratches at his neck. There’s something familiar about the motion, and the scarred, scraped-raw patch of skin there. Maybe you’ve seen something similar at work. “Either you used some kind of quirk or you got lucky. Which is it?”

“Neither. I have seven siblings and I’m good at toning things down.” You’ve wished for a quirk that lets you affect others’ moods more than a few times. You had to learn your de-escalation techniques the hard way. “Do you want these or not?”

He’s still scratching, and something’s pulling at the back of your mind, harder and harder. “Seven siblings,” he says slowly. “That’s three more.”

“Three more than what?” you say, puzzled. And then it clicks.

You have seven siblings now. When you lived across the street from your best friend, you only had four. And now you get why the scratching looks so familiar, why there’s so much scar tissue in the place he’s clawing at – because he’s been scratching that same spot for a decade and a half. It doesn’t matter than his hair is grey-blue instead of black, that his eyes are red instead of grey. It doesn’t even matter that he’s got a creepy hand stuck over his face. You know who you’re looking at, and the surge of joy that overtakes you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

You’d keep it to yourself, ordinarily. But tonight you’re a little drunk, and you can’t hold it in. “Tenko,” you say, and he freezes like he’s been struck by lightning. “You’re alive!”

Tenko stays frozen until you reach for him, at which point he bolts, and you really shouldn’t follow him – but you’re drunk and it’s your best friend and he’s alive just like you knew he was, so you chase after him. He was a little clumsy when you were kids. You were always a little faster on your feet, but his legs are longer than yours now, and he keeps you at a fair distance until he trips.

It’s sort of your fault he trips. He’s looking back over his shoulder, checking where you are, and he’s not watching his feet. It’s a bad fall. He sprawls out, the hand over his face dislodging and bouncing across the concrete, and you hear him cursing under his breath in a voice that carries a familiar strain. You’ve heard that before. You do what you did back then. You run to his side and drop to your knees, hands outstretched to help. “Tenko –”

“Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” Tenko lashes out with one hand, and instinct tells you to get out of range. The hand he lashes out with looks wrong – hurt, maybe, in the fall. His other hand is up over his face, covering it the same way the model hand was. “Father – I need – where –”

Father. You wonder if Tenko knows what happened to his father – but he’s feeling around on the concrete with the maybe-broken hand, and you realize what he’s looking for. “It’s over here,” you say. “Stay there. I can –”

“No.” Tenko lunges past you, seizes the hand, secures it over his face. Then he turns on you, and the hatred in his eyes sends a bolt of pure terror down your spine.

He knocks you onto your back. You know some self-defense – like any girl, like any person without a quirk – and you kick and thrash, arching your back, trying to throw him off. Some part of your mind is still spinning, because it’s Tenko, your best friend, who wants to be a hero – and it’s Tenko, his forearm coming down across your throat and half his body weight leaning onto it. You cough and sputter, and Tenko raises his other hand, all five fingers outstretched. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll kill you fast. Lie and it’ll be slow. Who are you?”

You don’t know how he expects you to answer with his arm over your throat. Dark spots are beginning to fill your vision. You shove at his arm, and his hand closes around your wrist. His grip is hot and dry and shaking, and a split second after he’s touched you, the burning starts. It’s like his hand is dipped in acid, like it’s clawing through your skin one layer at a time, and you scream in pain. Or you try to. He increases the pressure on your throat and chokes the sound off. “Don’t touch me,” he snarls. “And don’t scream. Who are you?”

You manage to rasp out your name, and you see Tenko’s expression shift. “We went to school together,” you gasp. “I lived across the street from you. We played together. You were –”

You black out for a second, and the pressure on your throat lifts slightly. “What?” Tenko spits. “I was what?”

“My best friend,” you whisper. Your eyes well up, tears running down your face when you blink. “I missed you so much –”

Tenko stares down at you for a moment longer. Then he recoils away from you, up onto his feet and back five or six steps. He’s cradling his wrist. You roll from your back to your side and gasp for air. There’s a rattle in your breathing that tells you your windpipe’s damaged, and when you blink the tears and spots from your vision to stare at your wrist, you see that your skin is raw, bloody and oozing. There’s the outline of all five of Tenko’s fingers, his thumb and middle finger joined, rotted into your skin.

“Go,” Tenko says. You look numbly up at him and see his face twisted behind the hand. “Now.”

Your wrist – his hair – his eyes – Tenko has a quirk now. An awful quirk. “What happened to you?” you ask helplessly. “Where did you go? Are you –”

“Go!” Tenko snaps at you. “Before I change my mind. Run!”

You scramble backwards and collide with something. The energy drink and the package of candy, which you dropped when you ran to help Tenko after he fell. The sight of them makes you want to burst into tears again. You don’t want to take them with you. You bought them for him. Without looking his way, you pick them up and set them on the ground between the two of you, pushing them towards him so he knows who they’re for. Then you force yourself to your hands and your knees and your feet and run for your life, away from the best friend you now know you’ve lost for good.

You didn’t want Tenko to be dead, and he isn’t. But Kazuo was right, too. Maybe dead would have been better. Anything would have been better than this.