A New Life For Tomura Part6

✿ Yandere!Tomura Shigaraki x F!Reader ✿

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( Hello ! I wanna start a new Yandere series and here is a little sneak preview of it ;) please if you want tell me what you think so far and tell me what you wanna see in it and please leave request for more series and shorts I’d appreciate. I wanna be more Active on here and find mutuals. Hope you all have nice holidays. <3)

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„Aww come on ten ten don’t be such a sore loser“ you giggled into his headphones.

„yeah whatever“ was all he mumbled back with a blush on his cheeks which you couldn’t see. You and Tomura, or Tenko as he introduced himself to you, have been gaming together for 2-3 months now. You guys met in some sort of chat room and have been hitting it off ever since. You not only game together but also talk on the phone for hours on end about Friends and Family , personal stuff and obviously gaming. Well you more then him. He love listening to you ramble. Your cute voice and addicting laugh.

„It’s getting kind of late ten ten (you’re the only person that gets to call him that) I have work early in the morning but it was nice talking to you“ you giggled. It really was you always felt like he was the only person that understood you. And he felt the same maybe even more but he wasn’t ready to admit that.

„Sleep well ten ten !“

„You too“

Was all he said and that was enough for you. You always knew what he was intending on saying and what he meant.

—————— next day—————————————————

From [y/n] : Hey Tenko you ready to play r/g (random Game) again ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა♡ ?

To [y/n] : sure

You were actually really good also a reason why he liked playing with you besides your cute voice. It was getting kind of frustrating that you were so good. Not to mention you were enjoying yourself quit a bit and making little remarks about how bad he was.

„Ok now your not THAT good“ he said

„I only won four times in a row didn’t I“ you said cheekily.

„Yeah yeah whatever“

„Well maybe you can learn a couple of things from me would you watch play“

What did you mean watch you play. Did you stream ? You guys have been talking about all lot of stuff but jobs and other hobbies have never really been topic. You did send him pictures before so he kinda knew what you looked like. You were the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. But all he said that he didn’t need to watch you.

„Here is the link to my channel if you ever change your mind“

Tomura could feel how his heart sped up and a blush was creeping on his skin. He had to suppress the urge to click on the link and watch you stream. He had recordings of your voice which he listens to every night and the pictures you send him which he looked at when he felt down or when he did other things… But it wasn’t his fault that he got hard looking at you. You were just so beautiful to him.

„Buuut let’s finish this round I’m getting kind of tired ten ten“

„This time I’m gonna beat ya“ he said chuckling. The excitement and the images of you streaming shot right to his member. He wondered if you were one of those who wore slutty clothes and took money from old men. He was gritting his teeth trying not to make a sound. It excited him being able to see you more often it wasn’t enough to just see your pictures anymore he needed more. He won the round and he let out an excited “yes!” Which made him blush a little bit he was still a little awkward about showing so much emotions. You like it tho it was cute the way he got excited. You grumbled in response to loosing against.

“Well I can’t lie that was pretty good ten ten”

You guys logged off for the night. And as soon as the call ended Tomura clicked on the link as fast as possible. The link led him to your stream account it was as he imagined all pastel and pinky it was so you . The brightness stung in his eyes but he was too eager to look away. You were at almost 350k follows how has he never seen you. Well looking through you content you did play games you two liked to play but the majority of you content was games he wasn’t too familiar with. He clicked on one of your videos. The latest one of your streams. You greeted you viewers with a little wave and that cute smile of yours. He couldn’t look away. He had to have you…

Here is a doodle i made of my oc in color quickly !

I just sped run reading you oc x Shiggy comic and shes so cute- I wanna try my hand at drawing her (if your ok with it ofcourse), and I was wondering if you have any information on her and also if you could tell me what she looks like colored ^^

Omg yes of course ! Well first she' like a huuuge simp ! She's a weeb too tbh ! Get flustered easy but is very very caring ! And even if we don't currently see it 'cause she's in her pijama she have an alt clothing style ! With color well she have red dyed hair and blue eyes, and a pale skin ! I'm so happy you fond her cute and like the story ! I would love to see the resultof your drawing ! Omg i'm so happy you asked ^^ sorry if the description is a bit short my oc is pretyy self insert aaaand yk describing soemone that is similar to you is sometime hard !

Long wawy hair..

🥹

Vibe [AU fic] Intro

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

Virgin! Shigaraki/ Thicc! Reader

Virgin! Shigaraki/ Curvy! Reader

18+ readers only

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

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

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

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

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

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

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

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

If you were fast enough, you could find him.

Or so you hoped.

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

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

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

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

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sophomore." Tomura simply stated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tomura kept quiet as he glared at you with suspicion.

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

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

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

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

However, a hint of cynicism kept prodding his thoughts.

Then…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

One week later….

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

"So…you're quite early today."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Um…" He began, but went silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

An hour and a half later…

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

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

They were so soft…

So supple…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or overnight.

In his bed.

Or him in your bed.

With your soft thighs wrapped around his waist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••°°°°••••°°°°••••

Two weeks later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were about to make things so difficult for him.

Were your nipples hard?

They definitely were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's stopping you?" You asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was about to be good.

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

Enough to Go By (Chapter 11) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

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

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

Chapter 11

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nobody liked my ideas,” Dabi mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Understood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How?”

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

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

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

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

“How?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She did,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your quirk?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It won’t return.”

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

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like you and Tomura-kun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seven.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— HAWKS + DABI + BAKUGO + SHIGARAKI || THINGS THIS LOVESICK BOYS SAY WHEN IN BED WITH YOU

-----------HEADCANONS-----------

HAWKS

“Oh, my darling...fuck, keep doing that.” 

“You're so beautiful, I'm so glad we found each other.”

“I know I’m a mess-… what else was I supposed to do while waiting to make you mine?” 

“Lay back and let me do all the work. I’ve dreamed of eating your pretty pussy all week.”

“Hey, don’t shy away from me. C’mere-”

“You’re so fuckin’ soft. Shiiit…”

“Hey—no teasing the feathers.”

“I n-need to-... I just-…-I’m going to start moving now.”

“Arms around my neck and legs around my hips— ngh! Gravity is a bitch, I don’t want you falling on me, at least, not literally.”

“What a good mate, you respond to me so well."

“I’m so fuckin’ deep, my pretty girl-”

“Fuck—I can’t... I’m not gonna last-”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I love when you squirt on my face.”

“God I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m going to breed your pussy every day, all day long, even after I’ve knocked you up.”

“We're both getting older, babe, and if we want to have more chicks than stars in the sky, then we need to get started.”

“Tell me you love me-… tell me again.”

“I do get ahead of myself often, but I can’t help it. I just know we belong together-” 

“What do you say we try for a baby this time?”

"You’d be adorable, so swollen and full that you can't walk, that you'd have to rely on me for everything...”

“Touch yourself, c’mon. Let me see how you play the right notes.”

“You're going to be a wonderful mother for my chicks.”

“Let me help you move pretty, put your hands on mine.”

“No one’s gonna hear if I put my hand here… no biting, hun.”

“I’ll make it quick, darling... just—let me… let me go again.”

“Need a hand or a finger?”

“Just wait, baby... Fuuuuck—give me a damn minute.”

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Arch your back, there you go, such a good girl.”

“Fuck, even after cumming you aren’t ready to accommodate my size. Don’t worry, baby,” he kisses your creased forehead, “—then just the tip this time.”

“Shit, I can’t help it—” you can feel him twitching excitedly inside you. “I just like you so damn much!” He grunts and snaps his hips again, diving deeper. 

“Just bear with me, I swear I’ll eat you for hours after…. Please, pretty, pleaseeeee…” He kept his pace, practically purring with his throaty groans. 

“No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, I know how to fuck you well, ain’t I, beautiful?” 

“C’mon let me hear you, I can feel you getting tighter… my cock’s rubbing those hard-to-reach places…. Fuck! I- slid in so easily.”

“I’m painfully close-…. Fuck, I don’t want to cum yet…”

 “Is this your sweet spot I’m bullying?” 

“Each thrust is inching you closer… should I slow down or go faster?”

“Deeper? Okey-… just try to keep it together, I have neighbors.” 

“Give me one more. please, just one more baby.”

“Try to keep your eyes open, I know it’s hard…b-but try for me beautiful.”

“Go ahead and sleep, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

DABI

“What’d I did to deserve such a pretty thing like ya?”

“I’ve barely touch you. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

“Open your legs, not gonna say it again.”

“Doesn’t hurt, its already scarred skin.”

“If I have to kiss your tears away again, you are gonna get it— I’ve already told ya, it doesn’t hurt anymore-”

“Bury your hands in my hair, yes... Just like that.”

“Stop pushing me away. You’re gonna take it all, don’t make me shove it down your throat.”

“You love to play the feeble act, but your moans give you away, princess.”

“Nuh-uh, you haven’t cum yet.”

“I said ass up.”

“You want it so bad? beg.”

“Take them off before I rip them off of you, doll. Don’t try me.”

“Harder,” he mutters, not a minute after you started. “Harder,” he demands again.

“Could you go any slower? Ride me like you mean it, princess. I know you can.”

“Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that, princess. You know I like it rough.”

“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck…. Just like that.”

“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re numb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock today.”

“Move my hands again and see what happens-”

“Fuck—” 

“Sorry, baby-… I just had to jump at the opportunity to sink my cock deeper.”

“Sit on it.”

“Worried it won’t fit? We always make it work just fine—”

“I don’t have condoms, they’re annoying.” He grunts the reply, inwardly absorbed with impatience. 

“Don’t move—Just gimme a minute… F-Fuck…”

“You fuckin’ genius, dammit, I love you so damn much! Not even I knew that spot— …” He shakes his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you been the one to give it to him.

“Did you do that on purpose, princess? ‘cause now we are doing it every time.” 

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but you were made for me to fuck and breed.”

“Stop it, no more whining—I’ll do my best to be…. gentler.” 

“Really? resist me all you want. I know you love being treated like this.”

“Ridiculous, I could stare at your pretty cunt all day long.” 

“Fuck Yeah! I adore the way your thighs tremble like jelly after you cum.”

“Should I pull out? Nah, better give me a daughter to spoil.”

“Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessing this is because of my pretty face?”

“Over my knee, now.”

“Sure, I love ya— but you are not in charge here, princess. Fuckin’ spread them for me.”

“Want me to spank that pussy? lay on my lap then-”

“One’s never enough, I know my princess’s pussy and its begging for another.”

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

BAKUGO (NSFW art teaser here!)

“Do you want me to fuck you harder, cutie?”

“You can be loud, I love to hear you, (Y/N).”

“I’ve waited so long for this...”

“That’s it... slow and easy—” 

“How much longer you gonna make me wait, baby?”

“You ever take it raw? Get a big load of cum in your pussy? —don’t shy on me, I know you love when I talk dirty to you.”

“Take it off before I tear it off.”

“Baby... please...I hate to beg-”

“Make me wait much longer and I’ll have to fuck you in an alley somewhere.”

“What a naughty little girl I have just to myself.”

“Ugh, so hot and wet.” 

“I said I wanted to eat your pussy, didn’t I? Just sit back and enjoy it, baby girl.”

“I’d hate to stop teasing you right before the fun part.”

“It’s so warm...”

“Who do you belong to?” 

 “Whose pussy is this? Say who you belong to.”

“God, what a good fucking cunt. It keeps clenching on my cock like it’s hungry for more milk. You want that? You want me to fill you up?”

“As you wish, princess.”

“You gonna cum?” 

“Go on, gorgeous. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”

“Fucking take it... take every drop...” 

“Nice and stuffed... all mine... my little slutty girl...”

“I said spread those fuckin’ folds.”

“So wet and tight, but my cock just slides right in. It’s like you were born to take me inside of your cunt.”

“Aren’t you a sight. All blissed out when we aren’t even done.”

“That’s right, darlin’. You didn’t think you could tease me for so long and get away with just one little fuck, did you?”

“Oh, did you think we were finished?”

“Did I stutter or somethin’?”

“Alright, baby girl, you asked for it. Just don’t come crying to me if you can’t move after I’m done with you.”

“Don’t move—Just a sec… F-Fuck…”

“No, this is-this is fine. This is beyond fine. Keep doing it, please.”

“Shit, darling, don’t-” 

“God, you make me so needy. Please.... fuck, please...”

“You feel so wonderful, I might go crazy—"

“More... please, more...”

“Fuck, I’m stretching you so good.”

“God, the thought of you ever doing something like this to anyone else... I can’t stand it.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re my precious BABY, now and forever."

NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON

SHIGARAKI

“It isn’t even a ‘might’. I can tell you right now with the utmost certainty that you are MINE.”

“Keep looking into my eyes, don’t you fuckin’ look away…”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” He coos in a demeaning tone. “I’ll be your first and your last. Not any of these other NPCs.”

“I can hardly keep my hands to myself, your room or mine.”

“I can do whatever I want to you, I’m player one!”

“I know, I’m keeping track of my digits, don’t worry your pretty head.”

“You are too precious to me to turn to dust, my love.”

“I can’t- I’m dying to breed you, to bury my cock in your wet pussy. Don’t move, I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

“My pants are uncomfortably tight, the fabric’s straining against my throbbing dick, I told you not to put on that dress, dammit” Shigaraki’s practically scratching at the wooden table, surges of arousal shaking him to his core. “Can we go now? Like right NOW?!”

“MY girl, so pretty and needy for my cock.”

“You want him dead. You got it.” Ruby eyes stare through his bangs up at your face in some sort of silent promise. “—Of course, I will. You are my everything.”

“It hurts. I need you to- FUCK, just like that.”

“Fuck, how-how are you this fucking wet and warm inside, fuck, fuck…!”

“Please fuck me.”

“H-hey, I know a fun game we can play together… It’s called ‘how many times can I make you cum all over my cock?’” 

“One point, five points, ten points—Cumming again? Are you shooting for a new high-score, sweetheart?”

“Now... care if I use my mouth on you?”

“Just be good for me, and I’ll take very, very good care of you.”

"Look at you, so worked up over a few couple of fingers, did you miss me that much, sweetheart?" 

“Just looking at you is enough to, oh fuck, drive me wild.”

"So desperate for my cock to stuff you-say it, say you want my cock—ngh!”

"S-Shit,"

"Needy girl, I'll let you have it, be fucking grateful." 

"What? Fainting on me already?"

"Don't let me see you doing this again, or else."

“Just fuck me. I need you, (Y/N), please. Please just fuck bury on me already...! I want it...! I want YOU..!”

“Have it your way then.”

"Keep licking my balls, oh fuck! I’m gonna die—"

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!"

“You look so pretty choking on my cock.”

“Where do you want it, baby? Mouth, breast, face, pussy… take your pick-”

"Are you close, sweetie?" 

“My feisty little girl. Aren’t you just adorable?”

"Good girl. Give me a minute and I’ll clean up that mess you made." 

“Cum for me. Cum on my cock and show me that you’re mine.”

“I just... wanted to cuddle a little more, is all. Didn’t want to... you know, waste the moment.”

“Don’t you worry, my love. I’ll be sure to give you anything you could ever want and more.” 

“You don’t have to take me all the way into your esophagus, but I expect you to make me cum, and yes, I do want you to swallow.”

“Go on, get on your knees.”

“Ngh, that’s it, keep going...”

“You look so wonderful like this, with your lips wrapped around my cock. I wish I could take a pic for Dabi to swallow his words.” 

“I want you all to myself.”

“H-here it comes...Be sure... to drink... every.. last... drop...YOU ARE FUCKIN’ MINE!!”

I MADE SOME SICK NSFW ART FOR THIS HEADCANONS, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. (Along with more MHA nsfw artwork)

As a french i am shocked

I know there are like 100 kinds BUT of the most common types

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.

Taking Care, Taking What's Mine - A "Play Nice" Commission

Summary: A Play Nice AU Chapter, in which, rather than taking the high road and trying to build a real relationship with the girl he's been sextorting for weeks, Tomura Shigaraki baby-traps her instead.

CW: Quirkless!AU, Dub-Con, Smut, Extortion, Baby-Trapping, Forced Pregnancy, Love-Bombing, Manipulation, Power Play, Possessive Shigaraki, Yandere Shigaraki, Morning Sickness, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

AO3 Link

A/N: Happy fucking Father's Day readers!! Lmao! I got this AMAZING commission a while ago to write an AU of my AU (a fanfic writer's dream come true honestly), of Shigaraki baby-trapping MC and well, while it took longer then I meant it to to come out, I'm so glad that I could post it on Father' Day of all days lmao.

Anyway though, this was so much fun to write. Shigaraki has been on the journey of bettering himself for so long in Play Nice now, it was a total blast returning to form and writing him nice and scummy again.

I'd love to do more of these honestly, so as a reminder: I give discounts on Commissions that take place in my AU's.

Play Nice, Burnt Bridges, Step by Step -- all of them. They're super fun for me to write and most of the heavy-lifting of ideating and plotting has already been done for them, so I'm happy to write fics like this for cheaper. :)

Anyway, enjoy some forced parentification on this day of dads. xD

“Hey, hey— are you alright?”

She lifted her head from where she’d been resting it against her gym locker, the coolness of the metal being the first thing to even remotely ease the headache she’d been fighting for the last three days. 

“Yeah, of course,” she tried to force a weak smile as Nejire approached her, clearly concerned, “Why do you ask?

The captain was dressed in her practice suit. And she quickly realized that so were all the other girls, most of them already making their way out the doors to the pool deck. She was the lone straggler who hadn’t even managed to undo her uniform tie yet. Nejire looked over at these girls, and then back to her, wordlessly demonstrating why that should be obvious.

She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head, “Okay, I guess I’m feeling a bit under the weather today…”

And that was the understatement of the century. She felt like absolute shit . Piling on top of that stubborn pounding in her head were a pair of really sore tits, a lethargy that stuck with her no matter how much vending machine coffee she chugged, and cramps that had shot straight out of hell and directly into her uterus.

But to be honest, she couldn’t complain too much about these ailments. In fact, she was pretty damn relieved. These were all her tell-tale signs of PMS. They were a little worse than usual this time around sure, but if that was the tradeoff for the relief of not being pregnant, she’d take it in a heartbeat. Her period was only one day late at this point and it had all but paralyzed her with fear.

Of course in retrospect, the fear did seem a bit silly. After all, Shigaraki’s creepy family doctor had warned her there might be some changes.

“I never start patients new to birth control immediately on a Long Acting Reversible Contraception,” he explained, “Especially not teenagers.”

“Why not?” she demanded, “It’s reversible, right? It’s not like you’re tying my tubes or anything.”

“No, but you never know how your body is going to react to the hormonal shift. You could develop acne, weight gain, hair growth—”

“I don’t care about that superficial stuff.”

“... Migraines, blood clots, depression,” he continued, looking at her pointedly.

She looked away, feeling a bit stupid for interrupting him now that he’d listed the more serious side-effects.

“I’m not saying you have to stay on the pill forever. But give it a few months, see how you feel on it. It can help us better determine which long-term birth control is best for your body without any unnecessarily invasive procedures.”

She shuddered at the very thought of being stuck in this set-up with Shigaraki for months. She hoped he’d get bored of her sooner rather than later.

Well, on the brightside, at least this sketchy-ass doctor seemed to be as interested in looking under her skirt as she was having him down there. However, this still left the ever so pertinent issue of:

“Okay, but there’s still the issue of getting the pills. No pharmacy is going to give me these without signed parental consent.” She had the always convenient Japanese purity culture to thank for that.

Ujiko simply smiled and pulled out a wheel of birth control pills from his medical bag right then and there.

“Consider these the same as this appointment,” he said, cupping his hands over hers and placing the wheel firmly into her palm, “ Off the record. ”

And then the rest of the “appointment” had descended into one of extremely thinly-veiled intimidation that bizarrely enough, she’d relied on Shigaraki of all people to save her from. By that point, she’d been scared so shitless she had very little argument left in her to try and reason him into just giving her the damn IUD.

The regret of not standing her ground on the issue did hit her later that night on the train home. Particularly when she thought over the fact that the way they were keeping these pills off the record was by having her pick up her refills through Shigaraki. The idea of giving him even more power over her like that made her feel sick to her stomach. And yes, while logically she knew that he had just as much motivation to keep her from getting pregnant as she did (she had a feeling All for One would not take too kindly to his star successor knocking up a lowly commoner such as herself), she still just had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

So she’d resolved herself on her first refill day to completely lay into Shigaraki for any level of tomfoolery he may get up to in this situation. There would be no forgetting, no being too busy to pick up the pills for her, absolutely nothing. She was ready to rain full fire and brimstone on him if there was even a hint of bullshit.

But to her surprise (and relief), she hadn’t even crossed the threshold of his bedroom before he was tossing a new pack to replace her wheel with. Simple and nonchalant, and then he was just as quick as always to badger her about getting her clothes off already, get on the bed already, break up with your boyfriend already.

It was the same old, same old — for better or for worse. Even if she couldn’t trust Tomura Shigaraki himself, that action had at least ensured that she could trust his own desire for self-preservation.

And that was better than nothing she supposed.

Back in the locker room, Nejire asked her, “Do you think you’re coming down with something?”

She smiled at her friend, joking, “Nothing I don’t come down with every month.”

Nejire tilted her head in confusion for a moment before the lightbulb visibly lit up in her head.

“Ohhhhh,” Nejire nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, Aunt Flow can be a real meanie sometimes, huh?”

She laughed, then winced as the action worsened the throbbing in her head,  “Damn it— you can say that again.”

Nejire’s brows furrowed and she brought a hand to the small of her friend’s back, “Hey, why don’t you take this afternoon off?”

She looked back to her, surprised, “Oh no, I couldn’t…”

“Sure you could!” Nejire chirped, “And honestly, you probably should. We’re working on our weakest strokes today. I had you down to work on your fly.”

Visible dread filled her as she thought about doing that much undulation in her current state.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Nejire laughed, “Seriously, go home. We’ll miss you, but we love you too. So we want you to take care of yourself.”

She debated a little more internally, one other loose thread dropping into her mind’s eye.

“If I do… Do you mind—”

“I’ll let Mirio know,” she shot her a wink as she clarified, “ After practice. I’ll let him know you just need the peace and quiet.”

She smiled at Nejire, genuinely grateful. This. This right here was what made all of the bending over backwards she did to fit in and please others worth it. To be cared about by such a good person. 

The warmth of that care stayed with her all the way out to the school gates, where she was then immediately filled with dread upon realizing that she’d need to go in one of two directions depending on where she was going after school: the train station home, or the walk to Shigaraki’s.

And just which direction she was scheduled to go today.

She let out a long groan, anguished and loud enough to startle a couple members of the going home club that passed her. For once though, she didn’t care about her reputation, she was too focussed on what a goddamn nightmare she was falling into.

She pulled out her cellphone with a sigh. Yes she knew the effort was probably futile, but damn her if she didn’t at least try.

Yup. She could’ve seen that coming from a mile away. She sighed as she shoved her phone back into her bag and started the very slow trek over to Shigaraki’s. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Shigaraki said as he looked her over his doorway, “You look like shit.”

She shot him a wholly unimpressed look as she shoved past him into his bedroom.

“Yeah, I fucking told you.” 

Shigaraki, surprisingly, didn't have anything to say about her tone, even with her brusqueness towards him being more than usual. He just watched her drop down face first onto his bed and curl her legs up into her chest.

She sighed at the slight relief the position gave her. While dealing with Shigaraki’s antics was about the last thing she wanted right now, she supposed that at least she could be grateful for how much closer his apartment was to her school then her own home was. It saved her a good fifty-minutes of white-knuckling a train stanchion to keep down her groans of pain. Now at least she could get the relief of laying down much sooner.

If only for a little bit.

“What’s going on?”

She bristled at Shigaraki’s voice, the unwelcome reminder that she wasn’t going to be able to truly relax right now. And while there didn’t seem to be any entendre or even impatience in his question, the fact that his voice was getting closer to her was enough to make her suspicious.

“My head aches, my back aches, my boobs ache — everything aches,” she grumbled down into his sheets, “And I feel like I’ve been donkey-kicked straight in the uterus.”

“You start your period or something?”

He didn’t sound sarcastic when he asked it, not that typical boy way of asking any time a girl did something they considered “moody”. It was a genuine question. But it irritated her all the same. 

Everything seemed to be irritating her these days.

“About to,” she answered, “It’s like a day late, but it’s definitely coming.”

She felt the bed shift a bit as he sat next to her.

“Are you nauseous at all?”

Her brows furrowed, a bit confused by the interest.

“I guess a little,” she answered, because even though it was mild, there was a certain turn in her stomach that wasn’t unlike motion sickness, “But honestly, I think it’s just from the pain. This has been going on for like three days.”

“Have you taken anything for it?”

She could’ve laughed if she wasn’t so annoyed by the reminder of all her futile attempts to alleviate this. Because of course he was looking for a quick fix so they could fuck already.

“I’ve taken everything for it,” she groaned, “Nothing’s working.”

He just hummed in response, and then she could feel the sheets behind her dip a bit as he repositioned himself. Into what orientation, she wasn’t sure. She was about to turn her head back and ask him what he was doing when she felt his hand featherlight across her hip.

And between her legs.

“No, Shigaraki please,” she whined, pulling he knees closer into her chest, “I’m not kidding, I’m seriously in a lot of pain—”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Tell that to your hand then,” she snapped as his fingers tried to wiggle their way between her clenched thighs.

“I mean I’m not doing anything for me. This is for you.”

“Oh is it now,” she deadpanned.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he insisted, more irritably this time, “Orgasms help with cramps, right?”

She stilled, sufficiently stumped by that particular statement. Because yes, she could say from experience that they absolutely did. She’d spent many a nasty period with her fingers latched to clit to chase that particular path of relief. 

…but why the hell did Shigaraki know that?

She gasped as she suddenly felt the gentle roll of her clit under three fingers. Apparently, in her moments of distracted deliberation, Shigaraki managed to push his hand past the plush lock of her thighs and under the hem of her panties.

“Sh-Shigaraki…” she whined, pushing her elbow blindly and weakly back towards him.

He caught it gently in his free palm and, rather than trying to pin or strain it in whatever which way he desired, like usual, he just held it there. Didn’t even hold it in place really, just shielded himself against its determined path towards his ribs.

“I’m serious,” he said, uncharacteristically soft, “I’m trying to help you.”

She finally mustered up the strength to — despite how much her aching abdomen hated her for it — turn and glower at Shigaraki.

“No funny business?” she pressed.

He settled his own flat expression on her, “When have I ever been funny?”

More times than she’d like to admit honestly, but she got what he was saying here. He was a pretty serious, straightforward person on principle. He didn’t bullshit, he didn’t pull cheap tricks, and, shockingly enough, he didn’t typically lie. Frustrating as it was, Tomura Shigaraki was pretty much always unapologetically himself and he always did what he wanted.

So if he said that he was doing this to help her, then she supposed that she didn't actually have a lot of reason to distrust him.

Plus, his fingers hadn’t stopped their soft, but affective ministrations between her legs, and the pleasant sparks of heated relief they were sending through her were undeniable.

She turned back onto her side with a sigh that was half-exasperation, half pleasure.

“Fine,” she said, throwing back quickly before he got too victorious, “But fuck around and I’ll kick you.”

Shigaraki just chuckled, a soft throaty sound that shouldn’t have sent the chills up her spine that it did, “Yeah, yeah…”

In one motion, careful not to jostle her too much, Shigaraki both pulled her back and scooched himself closer, until her back was nestled snug against his surprisingly firm chest and her head laid in the crux of his bicep.

With this new closeness he was able to be a bit more deliberate with the angle and pressure he used to rub at her swollen sex. And, while she hated to admit it, the increased blood flow between her legs was causing the pressure within her to build quite a bit faster than usual. Enough so that it had her letting go of the tension in her neck and joints — the automatic stress reaction she had to any of Shigaraki’s displays of intimacy — and letting the weight of her head drop fully into his embrace.

A shuddering sigh left Shigaraki at that clear relinquishing of control, of the way she truly let herself lay back and relax into him. It gave him the encouragement he needed to enjoy her to the fullest extent that he wanted her as well, burying his nose deep into her hair. 

He started to stroke wider circles around her, the flats of his fingers never leaving her clit, but now allowing the tips to dip softly into her entrance. He didn’t push them in at all past his first knuckles, just enough to catch some of that growing wetness and spread it all across her fluttering lips.

“A-Ah—” she gasped out, “Sh-shit…”

“Like that?” he rasped, hot against her ear.

She bit her lip, nodding needily, “Mm— Mm-hmm…”

He groaned at the response, doubling down on that motion as he started to stud long, hot kisses down the back of her jaw and neck. The feeling, so gentle and intimate and good in combination to the way he worked her sex, had her unconsciously rocking her hips into his touch, and back into his own.

Vaguely through the haze, she could feel the familiar outline of his stiff cock against the cleft of her ass, but shockingly he didn’t try to grind it against her for relief. If anything actually, when her own hips moved unconsciously back against it, he actually shifted his own hips away, anglind them down so his erection pushed into the bed instead. As if he didn’t want her to feel it, that he was concerned about her feeling pressured by its presence.

She didn’t have the chance to think too much into that though, not when his fingers were coaxing her closer to the edge by the second. The mess between her legs was obscene at this point, through teary eyes she could see the overflow of it spreading wide across her thighs and pooling down in the sheets. 

“God look at you, so fucking wet,” he groaned, lips having made it down to her shoulder and staying there so that he could have a better view of her writhing under his touch, “You needed this, huh? Fucking needed me…”

She buried her face into his arm to muffle her moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but also not wanting him to stop.

By some act of God, Shigaraki didn’t push for that answer either. She wasn’t sure why he’d abandoned his typical demands and taunts, didn’t threaten to stop until she gave him the verbal submission and begrudging praise he always wanted. Nor did she stop to think about why, she just let the gratitude course through her, spurred further and wider by the waves of heat rushing through her body, threatening — promising — to overflow.

Shigaraki could feel that axiomatic tension in her body, the boiling point it promised, and sped up his hand to stoke the flames.

“You’re close aren’t you? Oh yeah, you’re close…” his kisses turned to nips at her neck between progressively more demanding growls, “Gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

Fuck, hearing those last words spill from his mouth should not have done what it was doing to her. But it was speeding up her peak, and it was speeding it up audibly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s good, really good. Let it go. Go ahead, be a good girl and let it go.”

She cried out, her arching back forcing her face forward and mouth unmuffled as finally, finally her body went blissfully loose, the pain of the past few days overtaken by waves of heat and pleasure. One after the other, her hormone-driven sensitivity wrung out multiple orgasms, and his frantic fingers were happy to work her through each one until she was begging him to stop.

“Good girl, yeah, yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl,” he continued to praise, returning time and again to that phrase he could feel her getting unconsciously excited over, “That’s my good girl…”

It was just a few blurry moments of consciousness after that. She was pretty sure she whined something like “too much” to him at some point, and he whispered back something that she was sure was just utterly debauched right back. Or maybe it was sweet nothings, he had really favored those by the end of this escapade after all. 

Whatever it all was, she supposed it didn’t matter. All that mattered in those seconds of labored breaths and fluttering lashes was the beautiful bliss and relief that finally overtook her body. That allowed her to immediately fall asleep in his arms.

Shigaraki held her there for a long time after. He raked his eyes greedily across her body, letting himself carve every detail deep into his memory. He knew he didn’t need to, not anymore. Her boyfriend, her parents, hell, whether or not she got into Todai with him, it was all a non-issue now. There was no reason for him to lose this anymore. She wasn’t going anywhere in life without him. He was going to be able to revel in this sight for the rest of his life now. And he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was for that.

He chuckled a bit at that. Well, maybe lucky wasn’t the right word. This was all by design after all, weeks of very deliberate planning and deception. It was just like he’d always been taught. It didn’t matter what hand you’ve been dealt — and Tomura Shigaraki had certainly been dealt a shit hand in a lot of ways — a real winner made his own luck. 

Sensei would be mad, Shigaraki knew that much. Everyone would be mad in fact, but he didn’t care. He was just following the fundamental lesson Sensei himself had instilled in him the day they met. 

Take whatever you want, and fuck all the rest.

Several minutes into hearing those sweet deep breaths of unconsciousness from the beautiful girl in his arms, Shigaraki finally peeled his fingers away from her cunt.

And slid a wide hand up to cradle her tummy.

It was dark when she woke up, not a single one of Shigaraki’s many monitors or television lit the windowless room. That was odd for a couple of reasons, the first of which being that the overhead lighting had definitely been on when she’d dozed off. The second of which was that any time Shigaraki wasn’t preoccupied with helping her study or studying her, he was chronically attached to at least one screen, if not multiple, so it was more than a bit odd for him to have zero on. The reason for the lack of blue light however became quickly apparent as her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness.

Shigaraki wasn’t here.

She was totally alone in his room, alone and tucked into his bed. Had he gone to the bathroom or something? But then why would all the lights be off? It seemed like he’d probably been gone for a while. Weird…

She threw off the covers and flipped her legs around with much more ease than she’d done anything over the last three days, much to her relief. However long she’d been out, the sleep had clearly done her some good. The pounding in her head and pelvis had finally ceased, perhaps just in time for her to actually start her period. She did feel some dampness between her legs after all. Although…

Her face heated up as she remembered the much more likely cause of that.

Damn it, she thought with a groan, dropping her head into her hands. She couldn’t believe that she actually let him do that to her, for her. He was going to get entirely the wrong idea from it. The idea that she might actually like him and want to spend time with him, that there was some kind of connection between them that extended past the time she was required to spend with him to keep him satisfied. And she absolutely could not deal with that.

Being his little sex toy was one thing. A demoralizing thing, yes, but a manageable one. She’d seen the way Shigaraki treated things he objectified — games and magazines and the like. He got bored of them quickly. And if she was one of those things in his eyes, then eventually he’d get bored with her too and she’d be free.

If he was attached to her though? Had found connection in her and a desire to keep her in his life? She didn’t even want to consider that nightmare scenario.

She made her way out into the hallway, looking up and down from the empty bathroom on one end of the hall to the top of the staircase on the other. She didn’t have to contemplate the lack of presence on this floor for long though, when she heard Shigaraki’s voice echoing up from downstairs, talking emphatically to Kurogiri, she assumed. 

She couldn’t hear exactly what he was talking about, but whatever it was, he was being particular about it. “Don’t overcook” and “perfect” were a few of the words she managed to catch, so it was about food, maybe? The accompanying sounds of sizzling pans and clanking cookware would certainly support that. As would the smell that suddenly hit her.

It wasn’t an unpleasant smell by any means. In fact, it was salmon, one of her favorites. But for some reason at that moment, the smell hit her with a particular intensity that made her feel overwhelmed.

And really fucking nauseous.

She just barely made it to the toilet at the end of the hall, not even fully down to her knees by the time she was emptying her stomach into the bowl. It wasn’t just a brief moment of sickness either. The bouts were loud and long, she was sure that it echoed throughout the entire apartment. It left her red-faced, skin covered and hair clumped with sweat, not to mention still gagging long after she had nothing left to gag on.

A hand she barely even noticed came to rest on the small of her back in the midst of it all. It was only in the aftermath, spent and dry-heaving that she could process the fact that it was Shigaraki, kneeling at her side, patiently stroking small circles into her clammy skin and encouraging her softly.

“Let it out. Just let it all out.”

She groaned once she finally seemed to have a solid thirty seconds of dry, steady breath. And Shigaraki used that respite to nudge a glass of water into her hands.

“Here.”

She didn’t argue or agree, just took it from him with shaky hands, tossing half of it just into her mouth to swish around and spit the remaining bitterness from her tongue.

 “Drink some of it too.”

She nodded shakily, still too drained and disoriented to be irritated with his telling her what to do, or suspicious of the fact that he was being so nice. 

And still, as she took entirely too long to finish the rest of her water with timid little sips, he just knelt on the ground with her, moving the hand on her back to rest on her knee, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where a bruise would undoubtedly form. 

Finally, after a long, silent stretch, she managed to croak out, “W-What time is it?”

“Only seven,” he answered, “Kurogiri’s got dinner almost ready downstairs. Seared salmon, brown rice, avocado salad—”

She whined, shaking her head roughly at the very implication of food.

“Don’t like salmon?”

“I-I do… It’s just—” she gagged a little as she remembered that smell that had set this all off in the first place, “Th-The smell right now. It’s too much…”

“Oh yeah…” he nodded understandingly, muttering something to himself that she couldn’t quite make out. It sounded kind of like, “Heightened” and “Read about that…”

Her brows furrowed a bit, frustrated and confused. She was getting the feeling that he was really not telling her something.

“W-What?”

Shigaraki just waved her off, “No, that’s fine, that’s fine. Salmon’s not the only thing he made. There’s sauteed spinach, wakame tofu soup, toasted—” 

Jesus Christ, was Kurogiri cooking for an army down there or something? 

Well, whoever it was all for, and as delicious as it all sounded in theory, imagining those foods in practice right now was making her feel sick all over again.

“Mm-mm, Mm-mm!” she whined, shaking her head again.

She didn’t want to risk opening her mouth right now, lest she blow chunks all over the front of Shigaraki’s shirt. Although wouldn’t that be a nice little serving of karma for him…

“You need to eat something,” he insisted, more lecturey than she’d ever heard him, but with a strange gentleness to his voice as well, “And you need to drink some more too. You’re totally dehydrated.”

She shook her head more emphatically at that, which only resulted in her falling forward into his chest. 

He caught her before she could fall any further, scolding her not too harshly, in fact, a bit whimsically, “Is this how you’re gonna be the whole time?”

She pulled her head back to look at him, a confused furrow in her brows that brought the corners of his lips up.

“It’s not a bad look on you to be honest. All weak and petulant,” he brought a hand to pinch lightly at her cheek, “It’s kinda cute actually.”

Her eyes narrowed, finally feeling her stomach steady enough in her to be annoyed. He chuckled, just as amused and endeared by this look as the last. 

“Well how about okayu?” he offered with a patronizing little lilt, “And maybe some ginger tea?”

He clearly wasn’t going to let this go. And infuriatingly, he was right not to. She definitely was in no shape to go home on this empty stomach. 

She sighed.

“Yeah… Yeah okay.”

Going at her own shaking, snailish pace, Shigaraki helped her up onto her legs, pulling her immediately into his side as he led her back towards his bedroom. Normally she’d protest, stick an elbow right into his ribs and storm on ahead of him, but honestly she needed the help right now. So she sucked it up and let him lead her back into his bed. 

But that didn’t stop her from eying him suspiciously as he propped his pillows up behind her and tucked her back in under his comforter, the overall way he doted and fretted over her, even stopping to look back at her one more time from the doorway before he returned downstairs to give Kurogiri the new marching orders.

She dropped her head back against the pillows when finally alone, a bad feeling settling heavier and heavier in her stomach. This was beyond weird, the way he was acting. Sure, the guy was overbearing and constantly demanding of her attention, stupidly needy even. But doting? Not only willing but eager to put her needs ahead of his own? Caring deeply about her actual well-being and not just what he wanted to be her well-being? This was all way too out of character for him.

“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean. N-Not just the Doctor either… If um… If anything’s bothering you.”

She sighed at the memory. Alright, maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d shown at least some capability and even interest in her wants and well-being, he wasn’t a complete monster.

But still, all of this? The cooing and the caring and the, erm, servicing even that he’d done? It felt like too much. Like she was missing something really key about it all.

Like something was wrong .

Whether she ended up getting lost in that train of thought for long, or Kurogiri had already had some okayu whipped up downstairs, she wasn’t sure, but she was startled by how quickly it seemed that Shigaraki returned with a breakfast tray in hand. She cocked her head as he set it up over her lap, this was a lot more robust than she was expecting, and, she realized as she examined everything on the tray, a lot more stocked as well.

There was okayu, front and center for her, yes. But also on the tray was another small bowl of soup (looked like the wakame that Shigaraki had mentioned, a thing of plain yogurt (the really fancy kind that came in the glass jars), a glass of orange juice…

And a little dish of four pills. 

Painkillers or antiemetics maybe? They looked more like vitamins…

“Go ahead and start with the okayu if you want,” Shigaraki explained as he climbed up into the bed next to her, “But I want you to try and get some of the wakame and yogurt down too…”

As he settled down, his legs flush with her own, he continued to rattle off instructions and explanations for the rest of her tray, sending her mind completely spinning, faster and faster, like a goddamn Gravitron.

And she was ready to get the fuck off.

“...if nothing else though, take the vitamins. You need the folate, calcium, iron, and the omega-3 especially, since you don’t want the salmon—”

“Okay, stop, stop, stop !”

Shigaraki paused, having the audacity to look at her like she was crazy for snapping. 

“Jesus—what the hell are you even talking about Shigaraki?!” she demanded, “What’d you say, folate? What? What is all this?”

He cocked his head, clearly playing innocent. Whatever this was, he was clearly enjoying the slow unraveling of it all.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” she snapped, “All this attention and doting and food stuff! What the hell is this all about?!”

He just smiled back at her, taking in how pretty she looked, even when mad (especially when mad sometimes), God, to think that this really was his forever now. He wondered if they had a girl, how much she’d look like her. He hoped a lot…

“I just want to make sure you’re getting all the vitamins and nutrients you need…”

He reached over then, spreading his hand flat against her stomach.

“ Both of you .”

She froze.

No.

No, he couldn’t mean—

She tried to speak, tried to ask what the ever-loving- fuck he was talking about, but her mouth had seemed to go dry. She tried several times to open and wet it a bit, but every time she did, it felt like her throat was closing too. It took at least four desperate attempts for her to finally force out one rasped:

“... what? ”

Shigaraki’s grin widened, and he started to rub circles gently across her belly.

“You’re gonna look so cute, all big and round with my kid,” he giggled suddenly as he remembered something, “Oh, and your tits too. I wonder how big they’re gonna get…”

She stared at him, unblinking, unbreathing. Everything but un-fucking-existing.

He couldn’t be serious. He was fucking with her. He had to be fucking with her!

“Th-That’s not funny.”

His grin evened a little, not disappearing outright, but settling away some of its blissful excitement into something more coyly victorious.

“I said it already,” he reminded, “When have I ever been funny?”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“N-No. No, no, no this isn’t— there’s no way—”

“I’ve got the tests ready when you need to pee, but I think it’s pretty clear. These are all the symptoms I read about.”

“No!” she insisted, “N-No, no— this is, it’s my period! It’s just a day late, it’s not—!”

He chuckled, “I know the symptoms can be similar, but come on. When’s the last time you’ve hurled like that thanks to your period? And the sensitivity to smell? You know this is different.”

Crumbling, every argument she could possibly think of was crumbling to dust before she could even get the thought fully formed. And cruel, vicious reality was more than happy to take its place.

“B-But my birth control pills…”

“Fertility pills,” he explained, his splitting-grin returning in full, “I would’ve preferred to get Clomid from the doctor, but it looks like the over the counter stuff and tracking your cycle worked just fine.”

Her stomach dropped. Pieces of memories, peculiar behaviors and nagging thoughts she’d had over the last two months falling into place. How there were stretches of times where he’d cancel their sessions, only to insist they make them up a few specific days in a row. How he wanted to go multiple rounds a lot those days. How he’d stopped wanting blowjobs from her entirely. How he seemed to only want to fuck her from behind or with her knees pressed hard into her chest, positions he could fuck her the deepest in.

And how he’d have her stay still with his cock buried in her after he came. 

Back then, she just thought he was being weird and pervy. And in a way she was right.

Horribly fucking right.

Shigaraki shifted his legs away from her so that he could bring his head down to her lap, laying his cheek blissfully against her belly. 

“Was so easy,” he hummed against her skin, “Like your body was just waiting for me to knock you up. Waiting for me to make you mine…”

His hands moved across her body, one coiling behind her back so that he could pull her tighter into him, the other lacing his fingers through her own. The fingers on her trembling left hand.

“Both of you, forever,” he growled happily, a predator who had finally and definitively sunk his teeth into his prey, “All mine.”

A new life for Tomura part6

What if we could lay an egg with narinder ?

Please if any developper see this, let us repopulate the lambs ! (And f*ck with narinder 👉👈)