THIS MASTERPIECE !✨✨✨

omg thanks really it mean a LOT. I guess its training my first drawing of shigaraki was in 2021 and was looking like this:

0v0 i think i really improve it in two years but i still hope to get better

Tomura drawing : tongue out baby~

OK I SAW @naffeclipse’s CRYPTED HUNTER AU CONCEPT AND I JUST LOVED THE SCENE THEY DESCRIBED SO MUCH I JUST HAD TO DRAW IT-

HERE’S THE LINK TO THE POST TALKING ABOUT THE CONCEPT

ALSO I AM SCREAMING CAUSE NAFF CONFIRMED THAT THEY’RE GONNA BE WRITING A FIC FOR IT IN OCTOBER I AM GOING FERAL

TW: Horror (<- putting this here just in case)

Drool would go all over me and fall from my mouth like waterfall if I would see this man standing in front of me right now

I'd moan and faint from him just existing there. He would send my heart in cardiac arrest from just poking me once and that's a fact.

My ass be saying no men can tell me what to do but if he told me to go down I'd lay on floor flat on my face

Shigaraki is a missionary man you can’t tell me otherwise.

He likes the whole power dynamic of putting you on your back and being on top, crowding into your personal space, giving you nothing else to focus on but him. Does he like the other positions? Sure. He’s not exactly going to turn down sex.

But his favourite is you pressed beneath him, panting, gasping. He loves being smug about how you ‘had so much to say before’, and watching as embarrassment forces you to hide your face in his shoulder. He likes your faces being so close, noses brushing and foreheads touching. He likes your sounds in his ear, the messy, yearning kisses that you give him. He likes being able to hide his own face in your chest when he’s about to cum, and the way your hands move over his body and your legs lock around his hips to keep him inside.

He’ll act like missionary annoys him because he has to do all the work, and like the only reason he agrees to it is because he wants to see you squirm (which is also true). But ultimately, shigaraki craves missionary - he craves the intimacy of it all.

Birthday Treat (Tomura Shigaraki x CamGirl!Reader)

Words: 3.6k

Minors DNI

Tw: sex work, toys/interactive machine, "senpai", one mention of Shigaraki wanting to be called niichan, anal (plug, gaping, mastrubation), belly bulge, reader has pierced nips, soft degradation, multiple orgasms (both), mastrubating, delusional, softness too, squirting

Teaser: "I want to see," he says, his heart is pounding in his chest. He does not even blink, not wanting to miss a second of you. You are a goddess to him. So nice and so pretty and he is at your feet.

Note: It's my angel's birthday! (In an hour) You can send me Shiggy thirsts and headcanons and requests for my man's day 💜

Tomura is nervous.

It is his birthday and he splurged a little. Well, Toga said birthdays are there to treat yourself to something and he did exactly that. It wasn't cheap but his birthday seems like a valid excuse after what Toga had said.

When he booked the private session with you his heart raced at you sending him a private message alone. He was sure he wouldn't survive actually talking to you. You are so damn sweet in your text, but he knew that before. He never misses your late night streams, it's the only way he falls asleep without taking meds... or drugs. You sent him a form he had to fill out before your session.

What do you want me to call you?

What outfit do you want me to wear? With options.

What toys do you want me to use?

It had a detailed instruction on how to establish the connection to your interactive toys and some general info about taking screenshots and payment. He didn't know at the time that by purchasing a private session he would get live long access to message you privately. He is still thrilled about that. Maybe he could get you to like him.

He took three hours to fill out the form (he had to make smart choices) and he jerked off right after, all the images it conjured in his brain making him rock hard.

He is half hard now already. And he is just nervous. He has written in the chat and interacted with you before but never talked to you.

The loading screen now beams with cute pink graphics. Then, you appear and Tomura holds his breath.

You are on the floor sitting criss-crossed on a fluffy blanket with cute fairy lights behind you and your stuffed animals. You are wearing the way too tight white crop top and way too skimpy pink thong he picked out. Your hard nipples and their piercings are well visible, your beautiful tits perked up in the tightness of the small fabric. Your makeup is simple but cute, your hair is held back by your kitten ear headset. The white thigh highs make Tamura's cock twitch. Your thighs. He needs to know what they feel like.

"Heyy," you say, smiling. "How are you doing, senpai?"

Tomura filled in for you to call him senpai. He knew if he made you call him niichan he would go insane. Maybe next birthday.

"Hi. I'm… okay," his voice betrays him.

"Don't be nervous. It's just me," you smile. "Let's talk a bit first to loosen you up, yeah? How was your day?"

"Uneventful. It's my birthday."

Your eyes widen for a second. "Uneventful and it's your birthday?! Tell me you at least had some cake?"

"No," he chuckles softly. "Just played some games."

"Well, I'm going to make sure that it is special then, senpai," you say sultry. "What do you want me to do first?"

"Can I see your tits, please?"

You smile. Your hands with the cute pink nail design come up the sides of your body as you move to kneel instead. You brush over your breasts, squeezing them together in the thin fabric. Tomura is nearly drooling.

You take the hem of the crop top and slowly pull it up. Your tits bounce free, jingling so beautifully. The crop top is sitting above your tits, a sense of obscenity in it that he likes. You are about to take the shirt off but he stops you.

"Leave it like this."

You nod, compliant as a puppy, and move closer to the camera. You present your beautiful tits to him, bounce on your knees so they do too.

"You're so beautiful,' Tomura breathes and his hand now finally moves to his cock. 

"Thank you, senpai," you utter softly, squeezing your tits together for him and pinching your nipples.

"Are you wearing the plug I picked out?" His voice is timid.

"Of course, senpai. Wanna see?"

"I want to see," he says, his heart is pounding in his chest. He does not even blink, not wanting to miss a second of you. You are a goddess to him. So nice and so pretty and he is at your feet.

You turn around and your ass lifts up, your knees stay together at your chest, causing your core to peak out between your plush thighs. Your ass is just so sexy too. Tomura is no ass or tits or thighs guy, he is a you guy. Just you. You take a pillow and lay your head down on it. Tomura switches to the close up shot for a second, just needing to see your face a moment longer.

You push your panties aside revealing your cute cunt and the pink glass heart sitting above your puckered hole. You clench and it moves and Tomura nearly moans.

"Senpai?" You say breathy. "I was so happy about all the stuff you picked," you say genuinely.

"Yeah?"

"Hm," you hum. "You dressed me up so cute."

His body fills with warmth. "Pull your thong down but don't take it off."

You peel the pink fabric to sit at your knees then brush over your cunt.

"Did I allow you to do that?" He says breathlessly, eyes fixed on the close up shot to see your reaction. A deep blush creeps into your cheeks.

"I am sorry, senpai. Forgive me, please."

"I do," Tomura smiles. "Pull the plug out for me, baby."

You acknowledge his request with a soft moan and push yourself up, grabbing the bottle of lube. He could choose the consistency and naturally took the extra sticky one.

You squeeze some of it onto the plug then use one finger to swirl it around your stretched asshole. 

"Your nails are so cute this time." He knows you got them done just yesterday. He never misses when you post on Instagram.

"Thank you!" You smile and your breath hitches as you pull at the pink heart. You spread your legs further, the thong stretching around your thighs as you do.

Tomura watches with hungry eyes how you move the plug in a circled motion then slowly pull at it. It looks like your little ass does not want to let the plug go and he bites his own hand to stay quiet. You moan softly and it finally pops out, strings of the stucky lube going from the pink glass to your clenching hole. You lay it down and spread your ass cheeks, presenting to him how beautiful your ass was gaping and clenching.

"S'beautiful," he hums. 

"Wanna be filled again, senpai! Will you fuck my ass now? Please?" You beg, voice so pretty and slutty.

Shit. Tomura snaps his hand away from stroking his cook but it was too late. Strings of cum splash onto his stomach. He hardly manages to stay quiet. "Yes," his voice pitched. "Show me the dildos again, sweetheart."

You sit and reach to the side getting the three he selected into view. They are about the same length but vary in thickness. One is anatomically correct, the other has ridges and bumps and the third is curved to hit your special spot.

"Hmm–"

"Senpai," you blink so sweetly and shift to kneel again with your legs spread, your exposed cunt on the blanket. "I got a delivery today. Maybe you wanna try this one out with me for the first time?" You pull a red dildo into view and sit it down between your legs. It reaches all the way to your belly button, ridiculously thick and with ridges. "But only if you want to, I'll do whatever you want."

If you could see his face… Tomura clickes the shortcut and takes a screencap. He has a size kink? He is going insane.

"Let's use that one," he heaves.

You are excited about that and he smiles.

"I need a quick moment, senpai. Tell me are you enjoying this so far?" You start to set up the fucking machine.

"I do. You are perfect," he sighs. "I enjoy this so much," he lets his head fall back against his gaming chair. 

"That makes me so happy, birthday boy."

He smiles.

"Apologies, senpai."

"Its fine." It really is. His stomach is feeling all funny and it's not because of his cock being rock hard again. "You can call me that, too."

He watches how you adjust the camera, getting in the position he will fuck you in. He chose that one too. He wants you to lay on your side with your pretty ass sticking out so he can see your thighs and your dangling feet as he controls the thrusts of the machine going into your puckered hole.

"Can you see me alright, senpai?" You check in with him.

"Yes. All perfect."

"Let's test the connection," you say and your voice has a little edge. He watches how you bend forward, opening your mouth in front of the monstrous dildo with your tongue sticking out.

"Fuck," Tomura hisses but he knows what he has to do. He presses the button on his phone that makes the machine go forward and the gigantic head of the dildo pushes into your mouth, stuffing it full. Your moan is muffled. Tomura now retrieves the machine and pushes it forward again, faster now. Your eyes cross as you gag. Tomura moans softly hearing you gasp as he pulls the dildo back.

"Works," you heave, licking up the saliva that splurged. "Senpai, will you go slow at first?" You bat your lashes at the close up shot. "It's so big and my ass is so tight."

"I can't promise you."

You bite your lip at that. "I'll be brave for you, senpai, it's your birthday."

"Good girl," he says and his stomach clenches. He wanted to say that to you for so long.

You coat the dildo and your stretched hole in the sticky lube and line it up. "Fuck me, senpai, please," you say and brace yourself.

Tomura uses his thumb to move the machines forward while his other hand mimics the speed.

You moan and close your eyes as he invades you, pushing the dildo into your ass. You hook one arm around your knees, your pretty pink nails digging into the white fabric of the thigh highs as you hold your legs away. "Senpai," you whine.

"You're doing so well, slut."

You whimper.

He pulls back then enters a little more as he pushes in again, your puckered hole stretching around the red silicone. He pushes back again and now drives the machine forward a bit quicker. You yelp and move forward.

"Don't do that!" Tomura warns.

"M'so sorry, senpai! So big!" You squeal and use the hand that is not holding your legs to squeeze more lube on yourself and then hold onto the wall so you can resist the push.

"Good slut," he says and you look at the camera, giving him a strained smile.

He starts again and this time he gets the cock halfway in. He has no idea how it fits and judging from your face neither do you.

He fucks you like this, halfway pushing the dildo into your ass, making you moan and squirm. He is not holding his moans back anymore either.

"You sound so pretty," you whimper. "Makes me so horny, senpai! Fuck me so good– So big… so big… am so full;" you babble. "More! Please, more!"

"Are you sure you can take more, baby?"

"For you! I am sure! Force it inside, senpai! Please!"

He chuckles. His head is hot, he might have a fever. And does just as you ask. You cry out, holding your hair back as your headset slips off your head. You can't hold yourself up anymore and now he only sees your face in the close up shot. Your mouth forms an O. He watches how shaking hands fix the headset on your head again.

He almost comes again but stops touching himself.

"You are taking it so well. All the way," he cooes. "You like that, huh? Being stretched so much, filled to the brim."

"I do, senpai!"

"Of course you anal whore." He now sets the machine into an automatic fast pace. You take the entire thing… god knows how. "So sexy!" It pushes into you with such a stretch to your hole that it looks airtight. 

"W-wanna--s-show you," you heave and hold the camera in your hand. You lay down on your back, making sure the dildo does not slip from your greedy hole. You hold the camera up over your lower half and Tomura holds his breath. No way. No "fucking! Hell," he curses and he cums despite not even touching his dick. He's sweaty and whiny, bucking his hips up. Tomura takes his phone again and pushes into you slowly, watching your tummy bulge with the movement. It was so visible, so deep.

"Fuck, baby!"

"You sound so pretty when you cum," you whine. "Please cum again for me, senpai. Wanna hear you again."

You press down on your stomach and it is even more predominant now. You cry out when he suddenly goes so much faster, drunk on seeing how absolutely filled you are. This is stuff he thought only happens in hentai. You make all his dreams come true.

You throw your head back and your breaths come more rigid. Is it finally time? "Senpai!" You cry. "Gonna cum! Gonna cum! Fuck! Cum with me together! Please!"

Tomura is stroking his aching cock relentlessly. Who is he to deny you? He would not dream of it. "Cum for me," Tomura orders. "Keep your eyes on the damn close up!"

You angle the camera you are holding so he can see your core and twisted your head to look at the close up. You are so happy to comply. You get louder then suddenly quiet.

"Thank you," you press over your lips and come undone, shaking and moaning, your whole body jerking. Tomura comes again at the same time and you both moan together.

He pulls the dildo out and despite you still shaking and being utterly fucked out, you make sure he sees your gaping and abused asshole. He takes another screen cap.

"Such a good anal slut," Tomura breathes. "So fucking perfect. You love getting your ass used like that, so much, don't you?"

You nod and whimper.

"Look how wet you are, shit. I'm getting hard again." It is not just the sticky lube that drops from your folds but your very essence.

You finally sit up, hair a mess and face in a deep blush. You are just the cutest when you look so fucked out.

"That was so hot," you giggle, drunk from your orgasm. He smiles. "Want me to–"

"Want to use the vibe now."

You bite your lip and nod, looking lost for a moment as you scramble for it.

"What's up?" He smiles.

"I needed that orgasm so badly, senpai," you blush. "I feel so good now because of you."

He doesn't know what to answer. The feeling in his tummy is getting worse.

You position yourself again, slipping the pink egg into your soaking cunt. You spread it so he can see your clit.

"Bet you taste so good."

"I do."

"No doubt, baby."

He starts to pleasure you, starting the vibrations low then picking up. He only has an hour with you, otherwise he would torture you for hours. Not because he is cruel but because he is selfish, needing to hear your pleasured noises and see you squirm.

Your pussy is so ridiculously wet and sticky. Your juices all flow into your gaping ass hole and it is just a sight. Another screen cap.

"Can I r-rub my clit, senpai?" You ask.

"Yes."

You do so, vigorously flicking the bundled nerves.

"Wanna see you cum again, baby." He knows you are close, he knows you so well. Your pussy is absolutely filthy.

You and him come again at the same time. Your fucked out face worth another screen cap.

"Now ride the skin-colored cock for me, yeah? But drink something real quick, pretty girl." You are sweaty and blushing hard, breathing heavily from how intense your last two orgasms were. All because of him.

You smile and sip on your drink. "Shall I face you or away?"

"Face me. Wanna see your tits bounce, slut."

You get onto your feet and squad down on the toy, meaning and hissing. You start to ride him, bounce on his cock until your tits are swinging. It looked so good.

"Pretty girl! Squeeze those tits! Yes, just like that. Show em to me. How good am I fucking you?"

"So! Good, senpai! Can't even think… all fucked dumb on your cock" you whimper, blissed out. "Gonna cum again."

"Cum again, baby. Need to see how your legs shake, do it. Just for me."

"J'us f'you," you slur and cry out, shaking again, fisting the fluffy blanket. "Thank you!"

"Fuck!" He comes again and is starting to feel light headed. "So good for me, slut! Such a good girl," his eyes are rolled back and he babbles. "So perfect."

He expects you to tell him that his time is over. His heart breaks with that thought. Tomura is covered in heaps of his own cum, his cock is aching and he doesn't want to stop being with you.

You need a moment to regain your composure and he is proud about that, smiling softly. He did that. You pull the dildo out.

"Lick it clean, will you?" He chuckles, high on endorphins.

You let out a gullible giggle and do so, flicking your tongue on the wet toy, throating it until you gag.

He can't move, head leaning back with his hair sticking to his skin, his legs spread wide and abs tensed. His own cum is everywhere.

"Good slut."

"Birthday boy?" You say. "Do you have some more time?"

"For you always." Did you really say that or was he so out of his mind?

He watches how you take the camera and move to your desk. You lay down a towel before sitting in your pink gamer chair, making sure he can see you properly again.

You are his dream girl. You just are meant for him! He is so sure. You are supposed to belong to him. He knows it deep in his bones.

Your legs spread wide over the arms of the chair, exposing your swollen cunt and you rub your clit. "This is my birthday gift to you," you coo and start to finger yourself, then use the other curved dildo he picked.

The faces you make are just art, just perfect. You are so perfect. Tomura's cock doesn't want to be touched again but he just has to. He is being so loud, moaning along with you as he strokes his aching and overstimmed cock.

"Call me slut again, please, senpai. It sounds so good!" 

"Does it, slut? You are such a pretty, dumb whore!" He nearly says he loves you.

"H-hap-PY birth— day," you squeal and liquid shoots from your cunt, your legs snap and shake, eyes roll back.

"Fuck!" He cums again too. It should be impossible but strings of white seeds splurge from his red, swollen tip. He might have lost consciousness for a moment. You don't squirt a lot on stream, it was hard for you to get to that build up you once said but he made you squirt.

When he opens his eyes again you are not sitting there anymore, his heart drops for a second but then you come back with a half eaten cupcake and a candle. The crop top is still rutted up on your chest, your boobs exposed and seem like you forget it.

"It's the only one left," you apologize, chuckling, and put the candle in the cake, lighting it.

You are perfect. You are damn perfect. The cutest girl on this planet.

"Make a wish in 1,2,3." You blow the candle out then clap your hands.

"Thank you," Tomura rasps, his voice so faint.

"Senpai, drink some water, okay? Take a nice shower and have a snack." You smile, utterly exhausted yourself. "It was so much fun with you. I hope I'll see you again. Text me later, okay? So I know you are okay."

"Will do. Take care of yourself, too, baby."

You nod, blow a kiss and the stream ends.

》》》》

You are on his screen again that night. You are still in the thigh highs with a big black sweater, all cozy just playing the sims on stream, talking and answering some questions.

He is staring at the private chat on his phone. What is he going to say? You asked him to text… but what should he say?

(Y/N): What did you wish for? 

The message pops up suddenly and his head snaps up seeing you are holding your phone. He is online, which you can see but not typing, for 10 minutes now. You could tell he is a little shy, just helping him out. He types now.

Decay44: Can't tell you. Won't come true if I do. How are you?

(Y/N): sleepy. And you, senpai?

He can see you are tired. So stupidly cute. He wants to wrap his arms around you.

Decay44: I can't move tbh… But I am happy. Wanna see what you did to me?

You smile.

(Y/N): I do wanna see 👀

He looks up and you do too, smirking. Some people in the chat ask what you are reading.

"Nothing," you purse your lips.

He sends you the picture he took right after, still sitting there. All the cum and how red his cock was just deserved to be preserved. He made sure to not catch his scars of course.

He can see the blush that creeps into your cheeks, how you lick your lips looking at your phone.

(Y/N): you're so hot, senpai ♡

You sigh and throw your head back, "seems like you will get a show actually. I just got incredibly horny."

You are his girl.

Intoxicated (NSFW)

Paring : Incel!Shigaraki x Drunk!Reader

Tags : Drunk sex, Blow Jobs, Hand jobs, Thigh Riding, Riding, Vaginal Penetration, Unprotected sex, Creampie, slight voyeurisim (Dabi), Pervy Shiggy, Name calling (Whore & Angel), Gaming sesh, Pre-PLF coded shiggy (Idk, I just like him that way), Happy Ending <33

Summary : The pent-up sexual frustration was building up while drinking with your colleagues, so you took a half empty bottle and went to the one guy you hoped wouldn't say no, Tomura Shigaraki.

Tomura was the type to stay in his room in the base, doing whatever incels liked to do.

When you'd pass his door, you'd hear the clacking of a keyboard accompanied by various sound effects from video games. Just like tonight, you passed by his room while you heard just that.

You knocked on his door before waiting afew seconds, you pried the door open to see his back turned from you and eyes fixated on his monitors like always.

"Hey boss, y'gonna join us?" You asked, holding the alcohol bottles for him to see. His head only turned enough to see you in the corner of his eye, red crimson eyes seeing the bottles only to look back to the screen.

He wasn't wearing any headphones, so he was obviously ignoring you as a 'no'. You rolled your eyes before heading out of his room, closing the door in front of you.

You sat with the rest of the league. "Where's sigaraki?" Spinner asked when he saw you."He doesn't wanna join, too busy with his game or somethin' " You sighed before sitting down.

It didn't matter to them that he didn't join, but that was to them. You were at least hoping to get close to him yourself.

You'd catch him talking to Spinner about their games or Twice and Toga bothering him while you watched their antics. He avoided conversation when it wasn't needed, but he avoided you constantly. Giving you a quick answer or two if needed, then storming off.

To you, he was mysterious and attractive in a questionable way.

But to him, you were like a drug, something to stay away from. More like an innocent angel, something he shouldn't ruin with his incel bullshit.

The countless times he'd have to run back to his room with his tail in-between his legs and a painfuly hard cock all because you wore shorts that day.

You were adorable and hot. It was so unfair having someone like you on the team right there yet so out of his grasp.

He wouldn't call you a "crush" just a fuckable inconvenience.

So like that the night continued, most of them talking to eachother drunkenly telling their stories with the enthusiasm of a child, yet you we're still getting tired of them, no wonder Shigaraki always hid in that room of his.

You were drunk, the noise of your other drunk colleagues made it worse.

The worst thing was that you were horny. You hoped tonight would fainally be used to get rid of all your pent-up frustrations from the busy month, but once you got the invitation to drink, you couldn't say no.

You considered Dabi. His scars were hot, but he was too much for you. Toga? She's cute, but there's no way you could handle her. Spinner was on another dimension at this point, and Compress already called it a night and retreated to his room.

So you took a half empty bottle and went to the one guy you hoped wouldn't say no, Tomura Shigaraki.

You stood in front of the door, not hearing the clacking keys anymore but some streamer playing in the background. You didn't know which, and you didn't care.

You knocked a few times, waiting a few seconds and entering.

He noticed you enter, of course he didn't pay any mind to you, eyes still on the screen.

You stumbled to him, placing the alcohol bottle on his table, "I told you I'm not drinking." He stated, the rasp in his voice sent shivers down your spine, yet it was so addictive. turning his squeaky gamer chair to face you.

You did even bother to give him a response, getting on your knees with your face in between his legs, already working on the tie on his sweatpants.

"What are you!-" You hushed him, pulling down his boxers and licking the limp shaft until it got hard. you didn't know what excited you more, the fact it doubled its size, or you couldn't even close your fist around it.

You swirled your tounge in circles around the red swollen tip, giving it the occasional kiss to tease.

The door was still slightly pryed open, open enough if someone walked past in front of the door they could see you seducing the boss so drunk on Hennessy you couldn't even think.

The streamer still talking away to their chat, not knowing one of their viewers were about to get sucked off during the stream.

"Hey whore! Cut it out, you're drunk." He called your attention hoping to snap some sense into you, you were unknowingly about to give Tomura his first blowjob.

"So?" You said in a loving tone, a small giggle slipping through your lips as you lowered your head.

"It's Tomura." He said, reminding you like you mistook him for someone else, "I know." You looked up at him, your hooded eyes staring into his, admiring every feature.

The beauty mark near his lips, his deep red eyes, and the fluffy hair almost curtained over his eyes. You never really realized how cute he was out of his uniform.

Tomura swolled anxiously. If this was his fate, then so be it.

Your mouth engulfed him, tounge licking every inch of skin and sensitive gland on his cock, it would occasionally twitch on your moving sloppy tounge.

His left hand clicked the space bar, pausing whatever he was watching as his attention was now greedly stolen by you.

His right hand was placed on your head, mindful of his pinky. Petting your soft hair as your head bobbed up and down.

His raspy moans and groans polluting the room as a bit of the noise slipped through the open door, the praises of "fuck yeah." Slipping through his wounded lips, and his slightly fucked out expression lit up by the monitor.

He watched your cheeks hollow and plump lips move on his girth, tounge teasing every vein you knew was sensitive and your hand stroking whatever you couldn't handle, he was scared he was gonna wake up if he moved too much.

His abdomen tensed from the pleasure, eyes closing shut yet desperate to watch you, struggling to catch his breath in between his moans.

His mind went black, only hoping that he did join you guys for drinks. Maybe he'd find out why out of all the annoyingly hot people on the team, you chose him.

You slipped him out of your mouth, wiping the spit off your chin as you got back on your feet.

His crimson eyes met yours, confused before you straddled him in his chair, sitting over him as you removed your pajama pants, making them puddle on the cold floor.

His mind was racing, miltipule thoughts suriging a storm in his mind but he saw the one thing that could possibly make it stop and not ruin the sight, he took the bottle off the table taking a few swigs before looking back at you.

You seated on his clothed thigh, frilly pink panties against the boring Grey sweatpants he'd sport every day.

Pink fabric already stained with your lust as you grinded against his clothed thigh for friction you only dreamed of.

His finger was under your chin, forcing you to look at him. With your pleading hooded eyes and quivering lips, not to mention the adorable flushed cheeks from the achohol.

All you wanted to do was rub your needy sex against the muscle of his thigh as your hands explored the body under his black hoodie.

His sadistic eyes looked down on you when he'd occasionally jolted his leg up to make your squirm and shiver.

You heard footsteps grow closer, walking more like drunkenly stumbling to the door.

Averting your eyes was a mistake, only to be told off with a demanding "mm-m, eyes on me." From Tomura.

Of course, you complied, even stroking him during it.

The contrast of feeling your soft hands around his length was so much better than his calloused hand he used.

Shuddering breaths inches away from your lips as your hips rocked back and forth, knowing the eyes on you, yet you couldn't see who they belonged to.

Compress is asleep, Spinner? No, he wouldn't stay that long, Toga? Probably would walk away just hearing the sounds. So it was Dabi, that creep.

Even though the embarrassment was painful, it still felt good to know someone's watching you have the privilege to grind on the boss so earnestly.

Stroking his cock as his hands were busy holding your face up so he could examine you and holding the shared alcohol bottle in his other hand.

Tomura let go of your chin, giving you the opportunity to look while he guided your legs to straddle him.

And your guess was correct, you and Dabi were looking at each other as he leaned against the doorframe, giving you a condescending grin as he watched you fall apart on the boss's deadly touch.

You looked back at shigaraki, he was well aware of the captive audience watching the both of you be he didn't care as usual, he didn't care who you'd fuck after this, aslong as he got to right now.

He guided your hips to lower onto him, slowly sinking down on him.

he held you by your hips supporting your movements, controlling your pace as you grinded with him inside, you moand into his ear only to get him harder, twitching against your gummy walls.

It didn't take long before he made you start bouncing, he looked at you so enfacueted, you looked so perfect to him, hair a mess and so intoxicated on his cock, your arms wrapped around his neck as you pleaded for his kisses.

Dabi watched the scene, feeling his cock strain against the fabric of his clothes, watching your adorable expressions while you fucked someone with that kind of power.

It was annoyingly hot.

He could watch all he wanted, but he knew once Tomura was done with you, you were forever off limits.

He closed the door infront of him, giving you both some privacy before leaving to his room, probably just gonna stroke himself to that mental image of you fucking him instead.

Tomura took his fainal drink, placing the empty bottle on his table. Sure, it tasted bad, but at least he was feeling even better now.

His hands fainally explored your body, tracing your curves and stomach before finding their place on your waist, thumbs rubbing against the skin over your ribcage.

Your foreheads pressed together, moaning against his lips as he watched how your warm body moved, tempered by the alcohol it only made everything better and a bit sloppy.

Your insides coating his cock in a white opaque liquid from all your pent up frustrations, all those nights you couldn't get off from the busy schedule.

Your legs tensed, feeling him hit your sweet spot over and over again, so painfully good it had you seeing stars every time you rutted against him.

The sudden ego boost getting to his head watching you writhe on his cock, your hands pawing at his soft hair, giving the occasional tug.

Your back arched, his face buried in the crook of your neck, working on a few love bites and hickies to discover in the morning.

He was bigger than expected or you were just more pent up than you knew, regardless of who needed this more you knew this wouldn't be the last.

Your bounces became faster, more needy for the feeling of his tip hitting your gushing cervix, the smug smirk you saw on his face, and the ghostly touches on you skin.

Your movements were animalistic, yet something about his static nature claimed you, watching you get off drunkenly using him.

You were zealous on the pleasure, now pawing at his hoodie, tugging as a sign of your limits before he clicked his tongue stealing your attention.

"Just a bit longer, angel." His raspy voice saying sweet things, maybe it was the alcohol but that meant a lot to you.

He knew you weren't as innocent as you looked, coming into his room to suck and ride him, yet something about you was angelic.

Not to mention the look of bliss you had on your face at that name, 'angel, angel.' His voice ricochet around your head.

"I don't think I can, boss." You managed to slip through your moans, so adorable that you're still calling him that.

"It was an order." His voice low, almost like a growl. His lips met the skin of your jaw, and you tried your best to hold on, savoring the sensations.

Your shakey legs and breaths were so painfuly obvious to him that he had to watch you like this for even a bit longer.

He hasn't felt touch in a while, and now suddenly being flooded with such intimate contact made him berserk.

With one pull on your waist, he thrusted into you, releasing all his pent-up seed inside you, flooding and painting your gummy walls with his warm fluids.

The knot in your stomach shaped with his forceful actions, making you squirm on his lap and grip on his clothing while letting out the most erotic moan he's ever heard.

Far better than whatever porn he used to watch.

•••

You woke up with a pulsing headache, eyes opening to see the familiar room and Shigaraki on his computer set up that was right beside his bed.

He sat there peacefully, headphones in so you wouldn't wake up from the various video game sound effects he'd usually blast.

An empty Hennessy bottle on his desk and your pajama pants nicely folded at the feet of the bed, you sat up, gaining Tomuras attention.

He looked at you, acknowledging your presence for what felt for the first time.

He braced himself for the names you'd call him 'creep, pervert, peice of shit' he was ready for anything except when you stayed quiet, rubbing your eyes adjusting to the harsh light of the monitor.

You didn't care that you were half naked in his bed, just caring about where breakfast is.

"Hey, wanna get pizza?" You said casually, your voice still a bit groggy.

Tomura removed one side of his headphones, "seriously? That's all you're gonna ask." He said in his usual dead tone, his raspy voice with a croak as you guessed he woke up only a few minutes ago.

Unlike last night, he was playing a single player game so now he had the privilege to pause so he could actually listen to you.

His headphones dangled around his neck, turning his chair to face you.

He saw you already on your phone, looking through the pizza shops website for new deals.

"Are you ignoring me?" He asked, his voice turning gruff. He could ignore everyone if he wanted to, but he couldn't stand being ignored.

"No." You said clacking away at your phone screen. "I asked you a question, and you didn't answer properly. You're actually ignoring me." You teased.

"Now what do you want." You said placing the phone to your ear, "Anythings fine." He muttered as you spoke to the employee on the other side of the phone.

•••

You sat on the floor of his bedroom, eating slice after slice while he ate beside you having your first conversation together when he suddenly asked a question.

"Do you remember last night?" He asked before swallowing down the food he was eating, "Last night? A couple of things, why?" You asked back, hoping you didn't have anything important you had to do that night.

"Well, we fucked last night. Don't know if you remembered that." He said, a pink hue forming on his cheeks from the embarrassment of having to remind you.

"Yeah, I remember." You said grabbing another slice like it wasn't anything important.

He was honestly stunned how comfortable you were like this, sitting with him on the floor eating pizza while you only wore your panties and top. You were practically strangers last night.

"I'm the one who initiated it dumbass, of course I remember." You said,"Not everything, but I know it was good." You confessed.

It was like a weird dream, remembering fragments of the night every few minutes.

"So, why?" He asked, almost concerned in his sentence. "I was horny, You were cute. You connect the dots." You said with a giggle in your sentence.

"Right.." he said, he never had anyone call him that.

Minutes pass, hours, actually. Yet you willingly stayed in his room listening to him rant about his games, and he'd listen to you rant about your interests.

When night feel you decided to head out, you both spent the whole day talking you lost track of time, Shigaraki watched you walk away opening the door before he spoke.

"Hey," he called out, you looked behind you to see him pulling out a set of controllers for the both of you.

He mentioned he had a few controller friendly games on his PC a few hours ago.

"About those games.." he cut his sentence, trying to find the words until he noticed you shut the door and walked towards him.

He was never the best with words, but you understood him and the awkward language he spoke.

You sat in between his legs, grabbing one of the controllers from his hands.

He memorized every button on the controller already, so he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you seated as his chin rested above your head.

He'd talk to you later about getting a separate chair if this would be a usual occurrence, but right now, it was just you and him with the controllers and monitor.

Finally, replacing your noisy teammates with the peace you found in each other.

A/N : I'm alive!! Sorry I haven't posted, I got my first case of REALLY BAD writers block, but now I got back into my element!

(Solution to Writters block : Get zonked 🍃)

To all of those who sent asks, I SWEAR I DO ALL ASKS JUS GIVE ME SOME TIME <33 :sob:

Enough to Go By (Chapter 6) -- 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 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6

You find out what Tenko’s up to from the news – or from Kazuo, who texts you to tell you that “your friend” is making headlines again. It’s an uncharacteristic move for Tenko, who you know has been trying to keep to the shadows while he gathers allies, and it gets weirder when you find out that he showed up in a shopping center to have a conversation with one of the students from the class he attacked. You weren’t really watching the Sports Festival, but this kid made headlines for repeatedly breaking his fingers while trying to use his quirk. Every so often, quirked people make you really grateful that you don’t have one yourself.

Tenko didn’t get caught. He was long gone before the heroes and law enforcement showed up. But the incident leaves a weird taste in your mouth. He wandered into a mall to chat with a high school student. Why didn’t he talk to you? You’re supposed to be his best friend, his sidekick. He called the two of you hanging out together a date. What could he tell a high school student that he didn’t feel safe telling you?

The question consumes you more than you want it to, so you fall back on your now time-honored tradition of drowning yourself in tasks to avoid thoughts you don’t like. Work, and sitting with Yoshimi through her treatments, and ducking phone calls from your parents, who are moving the whole family – again – and want you to come home and help. Your mom threatens to throw away all your old stuff if you don’t, and even though you took everything you cared about with you when you moved away, the thought of your things being thrown out with the trash bothers you. It bothers you enough that you use your one day off in two weeks to go back to your parents’ house and clean out what’s left of your room.

When you get there, you find half the house out on the lawn, and your mother arguing with the oldest of your younger siblings. “Don’t take that tone with me, Haru,” she’s snapping. “Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not as important as helping out your family. We need you here to –”

It’s like something snaps in your head, and you’re swamped in the memories of a hundred times where you were told the same thing. You thought that with you gone, your parents would have pulled themselves together, but it looks like not. It looks like they just dragged your brother into replace you. You step forward without thinking, right into the middle of it. “Hey, Haru. Hey, Mom. Sorry I’m late.”

Both of them stare at you. There’s something accusing in Haru’s stare, not that you blame him for that. Your mom looks more relieved than anything else, and with her temporarily neutralized, you turn to your brother. “Go do what you need to do, Haru. I’ll fill in until you get back.”

Haru doesn’t need to be told twice, and he doesn’t wait around for your mom to protest. He books it, and you turn to face your mom again, the feeling of accomplishment at defusing a conflict drowned almost immediately by your frustration with yourself. Two seconds. You’ve been here two seconds, and you’ve stepped back into the part you used to play like you never left.

Your mom hugs you. “Haru’s been just terrible these last few years,” she complains. “Any time we ask him to help, he throws the biggest fit. I can’t count the number of times I’ve told him to act more like you –”

“He’s nineteen, Mom. He’s got his own life,” you remind here, like it’ll help at all. You step back out of her embrace. “I came to sort through my stuff. Where is it?”

She gestures vaguely at one corner of the front yard, and you make your way over, at which point you discover that what your mom described as your stuff is actually only half yours. The other half seems to be every picture and keepsake your parents have of you. You knew your relationship with your parents wasn’t ideal, that they stopped being interested in you the second you stopped being useful to them, but seeing this gives you pause. “Mom –”

“We’re downsizing,” your mother explains. “Take what you want. We’ll throw the rest out.”

Fine. If that’s how they want it, that’s fine with you. The first things you dump in the throwaway pile are every photo that consists of just you and one or both of your parents. There goes the whole first year of your life, like it never happened at all. After that, it gets a little more difficult, because your siblings are in the pictures and it’s not their fault they were born. You find a partially filled photo album, start stripping the pictures you want to keep from their frames, and fit them into the remaining spaces. You don’t have a lot of space for picture frames. And this way you don’t have to look at them unless you want to.

Most of your toys and books went to your siblings as hand-me-downs, usually before you were actually done with them, so most of the things that are yours are things you had to fight to save. Your favorite books, which you rescued by carrying them around in your backpack twenty-four seven. A journal with a lock on it and no key, but you know how to pick locks now, so it doesn’t matter as much as it did before. Then there’s a box that’s been taped, glued, and stapled shut, with DO NOT TOUCH written all over it. You remember mummifying this box when you were ten or so. You just don’t remember why you did it.

You can open it once you’re home. You stack the photo album on top of it and keep hunting through all the pieces of your life that your parents are planning to throw away.

In the end, you can’t take much stuff. You don’t have very much room, and while Kazuo would probably agree to let you store things in his house, you don’t want to have to ask him to do that. There’s not really that much important stuff here, anyway. The books and games from when you were really little? You outgrew them a long time ago, so what would you even be keeping them for? It’s not like you’re going to have kids.

That thought came out of nowhere. You sit back on your heels, frowning at the change of tune. In spite of the shitshow of your childhood and the fact that you’d most likely pass on your quirklessness and put the next generation in the same second-class position as you are, you’ve always seen yourself having children. Not very many children. Two, most likely, and a decent difference in their ages – enough that you could let them have their own time instead of treating them like twins, not so much that you’d run the risk of parentifying the older one even slightly. You think you’d be a good parent, maybe. At the very least you know what not to do.

You’ve been sure of that since you were old enough to figure out where babies come from. This is the first time you’ve had the other thought, and it feels like a certainty. When did it change?

The answer is lurking somewhere in the back of your mind, and you decide you’re not interested in answering it right now. With your stuff sorted, you dump the things you’re not taking into the garbage pile, making sure your mom sees which photos you’re getting rid of. You really should leave after that, but then the rest of your siblings come barreling out of the house, and you don’t think you should leave without saying goodbye.

Isuzu, the oldest of your younger sisters, is in her last year of high school. Music is her thing, and she’s applying to every conservatory in the country – keeping her options open, she says, but you know she means getting away from home. The twins, Shigure and Shinji, are both at Ketsubutsu Academy, training to be heroes. They’ve enhanced their control over their quirks to the point where they can induce specific parts of the vomiting process at will, and they demonstrate it on you, making your throat burn and your mouth flood with bitter-tasting saliva before your mom catches them at it and makes them stop. The triplets, a full ten years younger than you, aren’t even out of primary school yet. They want to be heroes, too.

Your dad arrives, with Haru in tow, as you’re making your second attempt to escape. He hugs you, too, and asks why you don’t come home more – right before he asks you to get the triplets washed up for dinner and check that they’ve done their homework. You almost tell him to go fuck himself, but ultimately you don’t want the fight. You herd the triplets back inside and start with the homework.

Isuzu follows you, not speaking up until after you’ve confirmed that the homework is completed and shooed the triplets off to the bathroom. “How did you do that so fast? It takes me and Haru forever to get them moving.”

“Practice,” you say. “More than I should have gotten. More than you’ll get if you get out of here.”

“I’m working on it,” Isuzu says. She looks uncomfortable, and like she wants to say more. You wait. “I’m sorry I told on you back then. If I hadn’t, maybe –”

You shake your head. “I had to go.” You cover your upper arm, the same motion Tenko made, and a chill runs down your spine. “I didn’t leave because you told them about this. I left because I got into my apprenticeship, and they told me I couldn’t do it.”

“What?” Isuzu looks shocked. “Why?”

“They needed me at home.” You shrug, your nonchalance masking the memory of the bolt of rage that shot through you when you realized what they were trying to do. “The only way to stop it was to make sure I wasn’t home anymore. I wish it hadn’t landed on you and Haru.”

“Haru’s madder about it than me,” Isuzu says. She leans against you, her head on your shoulder. “I remember stuff he doesn’t. Like that friend you had across the street. I don’t remember his name –”

“Tenko,” you say. Your heart lurches into an unsteady rhythm. “You remember him?”

“Not really. I remember you talking about him, though. You always had so many stories to tell.” Isuzu sighs. “Did they ever find out what really happened to him?”

“No,” you say. You did, though. You might be the only one who knows what became of Shimura Tenko, and even you don’t know the details. “I’m surprised you remember. Mom and Dad didn’t like me talking about him.”

“They didn’t like you being sad,” Isuzu corrects. “They don’t like me being sad, either. I’d be sad if it was my best friend who vanished. You said you were gonna marry him.”

“I – what?” Before you can follow up on the absolutely batshit thing your sister just said, one of the triplets comes back into the living room with obviously unwashed hands. “Arisa, I know you didn’t wash those. Go back in.”

Arisa sticks her tongue out at you. “You can’t tell me what to do. You don’t even live here. And you don’t have a quirk.”

“Right,” you say, a moment before Arisa activates her quirk and wallops you with every ounce of the contempt she feels for you. It takes all your self-control to avoid bursting into tears. “I can leave, though. Mom can’t get me in trouble any more, because I’m grown up. But she can definitely get you in trouble. Risk it if you want.”

Arisa glares at you for a moment longer, then heads back to the bathroom. You clear your throat and blink hard, digging your nails into your palm to give yourself something else to focus on. “Even I felt that one,” Isuzu remarks, wincing. “How do you take this stuff?”

You clear your throat again. “Practice.”

You make it through dinner, then book it, telling Isuzu and Haru to look you up the next time they’re in Yokohama and hitting the road before the twins or the triplets can use their quirks on you again. You cry a little bit on the train home, just enough to let off steam, and text your friends, who know what your family’s like and all advised you not to go. When they ask how it went, you send back a sad face.

Mitsuko: fuck them, then. they don’t deserve you

Hirono: come over and get trashed if you want. always makes me feel better

Sho: ooh, party at Hiro’s

Sho: count me in

Yoshimi: I can’t but 💛💛💛

Mitsuru: can I bring Izumi

Mitsuru gets a resounding thumbs-down from everybody for that one. Ryuhei chimes in, saying he’s down for a party, and Kazuo moves the venue to his house from Hirono’s shitty apartment in Kamino Ward. When you get off the train in Yokohama, you head over to Kazuo’s without stopping at home first.

Your friends have varying ideas on how to make you feel better. Mitsuko and Hirono think you should get drunk, so you drink a little, and Sho thinks you should bitch as much as you want about your family, so you do. Mitsuru’s got lots of siblings, so you complain about siblings together, and Ryuhei, not to be outdone, offers to beat up the triplets for you. “My quirk is perfect for it,” he says. “They’ll never know what hit them.”

They wouldn’t – Ryuhei’s quirk is called Reflection, and it bounces any quirk-based attack right back in the face of whoever sent it. “They’re ten,” you say.

“So?”

“Wait until they’re adults and it’ll be legal,” Kazuo says blandly. “What’s in the box?”

“Oh,” you say. You haven’t let go of it, although you relinquished the photo album to Mitsuko and Hirono after extracting promises that they wouldn’t take the photos out. “I’m not sure. I guess I thought it was pretty important.”

Kazuo touches his temple, then lowers his hand. “You don’t know, so I don’t know, either.”

“Let’s open it,” Hirono suggests. Mitsuko is still flipping through the photo album. “What kind of dirty secrets have you got in there?”

“I was ten. Not a lot of dirty secrets at that age.” You hold the box out to her. “Mind doing the honors on the tape?”

Hirono’s quirk is called Slice. It lets her cut narrow lines in any substance she draws her finger over, and you know she’s used it for good and evil at various points in her life. She cuts through the tape, you pry out the staples, and you and your friends from high school look down at the things you thought were worth hiding when you were ten years old.

There’s another journal, which means the one you grabbed was probably a decoy. You don’t remember being this sneaky, but you’re guessing you had a reason, and as you look through the other things in the box, you realize what it was. “I hid this before my memory got wiped,” you say. “It’s all things about my friend.”

“I thought they were just wiping your memories of the murder scene,” Mitsuru says, frowning.

“That’s what they got, sort of.” Memories are coming back to you as you peer into the box, memories of collecting these things, squirreling them away, panic beating at the base of your throat the entire time. “They were going for all of it.”

There’s a plush toy – a corgi, the same kind as Tenko’s dog, because you’d always wanted a dog and your parents always said no. Tenko got it for you for your birthday, the same year you had to go home early from his party. There are a bunch of photos, too, stolen out of a photo album – possibly the same partially-empty album you found when you were sorting. Some are from school. Some are from parties – yours, Tenko’s, Hana’s. Some were pretty clearly taken by Tenko’s mom. Seeing them makes you want to cry.

In the pictures, Tenko’s house is still standing. Tenko’s family is still alive. There’s Tenko like he used to be, dark-haired and grey-eyed and quirkless and happy. The two of you were always happy together, even if you weren’t happy at home. “These are cute,” Sho remarks. “Lots of puppy love going on here, and I’m not talking about the dog.”

You remember that you apparently told Isuzu you were going to marry Tenko and cringe from the thought. “Don’t be weird.”

“If it helps, it doesn’t look all that unrequited,” Mitsuko says, peering over your shoulder. “Check that one out.”

The photo she’s pointing at is from your class’s Valentine’s Day party. You and Tenko are trying to trade valentines, except you’re too embarrassed to look at him while you hand yours over. He’s not embarrassed to look at you. He’s grinning, that same smile that some of the other girls called creepy, the one you still like seeing because you know that it’s real, and he’s holding out a valentine of his own for you.

The valentine Tenko gave you is in the box, although his handwriting is impossible to read when you’ve had as many drinks as you’ve had tonight. In the corner of the box is another, tinier box. It looks like a jewelry box, and when you pry it open, a memory floods over you. There’s a locket inside. You put a picture in it the day before you got your memory wiped, and when you pick it up, you find the picture staring up at you. Tenko. Even five years after he vanished, you couldn’t let him go.

You shouldn’t have had so much to drink. If you were sober, you absolutely wouldn’t be bursting into tears.

Your friends aren’t exactly clear on why you’re crying, but they comfort you anyway, Mitsuko and Hirono and Sho hugging you while Ryuhei and Mitsuru hang awkwardly back, patting your shoulders. The only person who doesn’t get in on it is Kazuo, but Kazuo was never the touchiest, even before his mind snapped. And something’s up with Kazuo tonight. Even through your own mess of emotion, you can tell.

You wait until everyone else is drifting off before you try to get it out of him. “What’s wrong?”

“The HPSC is reactivating me.”

“They – what?” The alcohol’s made you just a little slow – the anger hits before the understanding’s truly formed in your head. “No, they can’t. They can’t, Kazuo! After what they did to you –”

“My provisional license is still active. That means they can.” Kazuo extracts a letter from his pocket and holds it out for you to peruse. You can barely read it. Your vision is swimming with rage. “When All Might crippled the black market, he took down every possible informant with it. Someone is backing the League of Villains. They need to find out who. My quirk is the fastest way.”

“They can’t do this. Not with what happened last time.” Your heart is hammering. Kazuo’s work-study was in Yokohama. When he collapsed, they brought him to your clinic, and you saw firsthand what overuse of his quirk did to him. “It could kill you.”

“There are safeguards, theoretically.” Kazuo’s voice is flat, emotionless. Like it’s been for two years and counting. “If you read further in the letter, you’ll see the protocol they outlined.”

You don’t need to read it. “You’ve got a medical condition. Using your quirk will exacerbate it. They can’t just conscript you like this!”

“It’s done,” Kazuo says. You look at him, speechless with fury, still too close to tears. “I didn’t tell you so you could get angry over something you can’t solve. I told you because I’ve predicted the types of questions they’ll instruct me to ask. I can ask them in a way that will preclude you in the answers.”

You hadn’t even thought that far ahead. “But in order for me to do that,” Kazuo continues, “you must keep yourself out of their search parameters. As long as you don’t directly aid your friend in the committing of a crime, you’ll fall outside their net.”

“Directly aid,” you repeat. “What does that mean?”

Kazuo gives you a look. “Failing to stop something is not the same thing as assisting in it.”

Now you get it. Kazuo’s telling you that simply knowing what Tenko’s up to isn’t enough to get you in trouble. In order for you to come under suspicion through Kazuo’s quirk, you’d have to actually do something – not just to help Tenko, but to help Tenko commit a crime. “I understand.”

You do. But that fury is still bubbling up within you, pointless as it is, at the thought that catching some vague scraps of information about the League of Villains is worth Kazuo’s sanity, Kazuo’s life. “We’ll figure something out. I won’t let them keep using you.”

Kazuo’s eyes are blank. They’ve been blank for years. But every so often you’ve seen a flash of something within them – some feeling, something familiar, something of the boy you knew. “You can’t save both of us,” he says, and his right hand falls from his temple to rest in his lap.

He was using his quirk just then. What was he asking? What did he see? You want to ask him, but he’s just picked up a half-empty bottle of vodka and drained it, and now it’s all hands on deck to hustle him to the bathroom in time for him to throw it back up.

The thought crosses your mind, as you’re rubbing his shoulders and offering him tissues to wipe his mouth, that it would have been easier if you’d fallen harder for Kazuo. If you’d fallen hard enough to cling to him even when his heroic ambitions pulled him away, hard enough to hold on even when the overuse of his quirk destroyed his ability to feel anything at all, hard enough to fight for him even when he doesn’t see a point to trying at anything any longer. It would have been hard, sure. But at the same time, it would have been easier for everyone involved if you’d felt for Kazuo the way you feel for Tenko.

You and Kazuo fall asleep on the bathroom floor, and in the morning, you’ve got a backache and a hangover. So does everybody else, but there’s something at least a little relieving in the fact that you’re all suffering together. You’ve got work, but it’s a half day, and it starts at noon. Plenty of time for you to go home and take a shower and try to sober up the rest of the way.

At least that’s what you think. When you step out of the bathroom in your apartment wrapped in a towel, you step directly into a warp gate, and it swallows you whole.

Kurogiri said he’d tell you what you were walking into the next time Tenko summoned you, but maybe he just forgot. You think you can probably talk Tenko into sending you back long enough to put on clothes. But once your feet touch the ground, it’s clear that you aren’t in the bar, where you’ve been nearly every time Tenko’s called for you. The air is cold and clammy, and there’s a strange smell, half antiseptic, half rot. You know this smell. You remember it from a field trip you took in nursing school. It smells like a morgue.

It smells like a morgue, and it’s pitch-black. You can’t see your hand in front of your face. Where’s Tenko? You can’t imagine him summoning you here without an explanation – which means he’s not the one who summoned you. Who did?

A voice issues from the darkness, deep and almost friendly. “Do you know who I am?”

The revulsion and terror that sweeps over you at the sound of his voice are almost enough to bring you to your knees. But you grew up in a family full of quirk users whose quirks affected the mind and body, and they loved to practice on you. Sixteen years of surviving it gives you the experience to stay on your feet. And when you think about it, you do know who this is. “You’re Sensei,” you say, and the man in the darkness makes a pleased sound. “Shigaraki’s master.”

“Very good,” the man says, but it isn’t – you only remembered to use Tenko’s new name at the last second. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me who you are – and who you are to Tomura.”

“I’m – nobody,” you say. Sensei’s influence over you intensifies, and you keep your feet with an effort. “I’m a nurse. He came to the clinic I work at last year. He’d hurt his wrist.”

“I see,” Sensei says after a moment. “Had you met Tomura before that time?”

Tomura? No. You shake your head, only to remember that Tenko’s master probably can’t see in the dark. “No.”

“But you’ve seen him since.”

“Yes,” you say. “When he’s injured, he sends Kurogiri to find me. So I can help.”

“I see,” Sensei says again. You’re tempted to point out that if the doctor, whoever the doctor is, had treated Tenko’s gunshot wounds, Tenko wouldn’t have needed to call for you in the first place. But that would escalate things. You keep your mouth shut. “Do you possess a healing quirk?”

“No.”

“That’s a shame,” Sensei remarks. “Would you like one?”

“No,” you say at once. Maybe too quickly, given the insanity of the statement. “It’s not possible to give quirks.”

“It is. And they can be taken away just as easily,” Sensei says. You stay quiet, and when he speaks again, it’s a change of subject. “It seems Tomura has taken a liking to you.”

“I – I wouldn’t know,” you stammer. How much does Tenko’s master know? “I don’t know how Shigaraki feels about anything.”

“Thankfully, I do.” Sensei goes silent for a moment. “I suppose it’s wise of Tomura to keep a medical provider in his orbit, even if you would be more useful to him with a healing quirk. What is your quirk?”

Your stomach instantly twists into a knot. “I don’t have one.”

“Mm.” Sensei’s voice takes on a reflective note. “Let’s remedy that.”

The darkness is complete. You don’t see the hand coming; all you can do is startle when it clamps down over your face, enormous and rough and hot. Your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp, too quiet to be a scream but still too close for comfort. But just as suddenly as the hand settled over your face, it pulls away with equal speed. Sensei chuckles, a low, dark sound that makes your skin crawl. “You’ve been dishonest with me, but I can’t fault you for not sharing what you don’t know.”

You’ve been dishonest, yes. It doesn’t seem like he knows about that. But what don’t you know? “Sir? I don’t understand.”

“You have manners. It’s a shame Tomura won’t appreciate them,” Sensei says. “You will understand in time. Kurogiri?”

The mist begins to billow around you – and at the same time, it clears partially, revealing the shape of the man standing before you. He’s terrifyingly large, looming over you, and his face – “I would advise against telling Tomura of our meeting,” Sensei says as you stare up at him in terror, “but that is ultimately your decision to make. You and I will have no further dealings. Tomura has chosen you as a piece in his game. I will leave you to him.”

The terror drowns you. You fight to keep your head above water. “Yes, sir.”

“Sir,” Sensei repeats. “I do like that.”

The tone in his voice breaks your composure, just as the mist closes around you. By the time Kurogiri deposits you back on the floor in your apartment – in your apartment, they know where you live – you’re hyperventilating, panicking, almost out of your mind. “Shigaraki Tomura will call for you this evening,” Kurogiri says. “I do not know his purpose. I advise you to be prepared for either possibility.”

For a date. Or for a meeting with his new allies. You’ve never felt less prepared for anything in your life. Kurogiri vanishes, and you curl up in a ball, shivering. Maybe it’s from the cold. Maybe it’s from the smell of rot. Maybe it’s from the pure terror of meeting Tenko’s master, of the lingering sensation of his hand closing over your face. Whatever it is, you have to get rid of it. And you still have to go to work. You crawl back to the bathroom, turn the shower on scalding, and climb in.

How is anyone okay with Tomura dying when it was stated that the trauma made him age super rapidly and that's why his body ended up like that.

There are sooooooo many panels of Tomura going through the worst shit imaginable and taking all the damage like it was nothing, 'cause he wanted so badly to survive.

He was solely born as a suggestion of AFO 'cause he needed a new body and a tool for his plans.

His age went white by age five 'cause AFO turned him into a weapon and tested him by massacring his whole family.

He was presented in the story as a young man with deep psychological and physical issues. We saw him destroying his neck with his nails the moment he failed at the USJ.

Tomura was sleep deprived and exhausted to the point of hallucinating while he fought on MVA. That was after he admitted that he couldn't remember most of what happened when he was a kid.

The amount of times he threw up because his trauma was overwhelming????

Tomura got that surgery because he wanted the power to destroy what made it so hard to live for his and his friends and ended up possessed by the man who had ruined his entire life.

That panel of Tomura agonizing in pain on the ground after the Star and Stripe fight, while AFO looked so fresh and patted him like a well-behaved cat makes me so sick.

AFO wanted to use as sacrificial pawns all of Tomura's friends, after Tomura had stated time and time again how much he cared for them and how far he'd go to protect them.

Somehow Tomura got rid of AFO and his body freaking evolved to protect him. His body was taking the form of his dead family and it was moving like a shield and a sword in his favor.

He lived in a freaking time loop where he'd live endlessly the day he killed his family.

Finally AFO got killed and he got "rescued" from his traumas by Deku, only for AFO to come back, reveal that Tomura was never free to start with.

AFO almost erased a screaming Tomura from existence. The only reason Tomura didn't die is because Deku had passed OFA to him and Nana shielded Tomura to protect him.

All that for Tomura to come back just to help Deku defeat AFO is the most unexciting panel ever, say his last words and die decayed.

All his family? Dead. His dog? Dead. His childhood friends? Probably turned into nomus. His found family? Either dead, hurt or missing. The person responsible for raising him, the one who actually fulfilled the parent role? A child soldier 16 years old boy turned into a zombie butler that died by trying to protect him.

The cherry on top is that the heroes would justify trying to help him by focusing on his 5 years old version, instead of acknowledging that the man Tomura Shigaraki became was worth fighting for and worth loving and rescuing. Tomura refused to stop being the leader of the League of Villains for a reason, yet Deku would still call him Tenko and All Migh would dare say that Deku "saved his soul" as if that was worth something.

The hero society is far from being fixed, the story is far from being over, the villains made progress but they are still fighting because there is still so much corruption and ignorance surrounding the most important points of what makes a villain, you know, a villain.

And the one character who deserved the most to have a second chance at life all is dead :(

Tell me how is anyone satisfied with this...

Narilamb part2:

Okay okay, this time its less canon but imagine the lamb opening the bar and narinder take a drink but then is posess(idk how to spell it preperly i'm french sorry). The lamb do his best to find him in dongeon and when he finaly find him punish him from drinking whitch of course frustrate Narinder but hey, he couldn't just let his favorite ex god be posses again and have to kill him !

vitality | 1

Summary: You were always told heroes and villains had no place in your home.  Not when there’s an increase in crime, not when there’s monsters on the loose in Hosu and certainly not when the man in your home raises a hand to you.  All it takes is one impulsive decision to change your life forever. content: shigaraki tomura x female reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, reader has a quirk, graphic depictions of violence, past abuse, past sa, angst, pstd, eventual smut, found family LoV, mdni wc: 3.1k | chapter 2 | m. list | read on ao3

It’s been raining all day.

The cold droplets make your cheeks feel numb as you run along the sidewalk. The sky is a murky gray and your lungs are burning in a desperate attempt to regain air in them. There is blood on your clothes and none of it belongs to you. 

You don't know how long you’ve been at this but you know you cannot stop. There would be consequences if you stopped.

Your body would have to give out first. 

You chance a glance behind you and see there is no chase, there are no sirens and no angry mob following you but your body keeps moving.

You decide to take a sharp right turn into an upcoming alley and use that moment to catch your breath. Your chest heaves as you desperately inhale. The rain has soaked you to the bone and you just know that you’ll have a stuffy nose in the morning. Adrenaline is what you assume is keeping you going at this point — with the rate of your heart beating you're sure it’ll beat right out of your chest and leave you here in this dingy alley alone.

Even through the patter of the rain you could hear the footsteps of multiple people shuffling your way. 

You’re sure they’ve found you. Damn it, you shouldn’t have stopped.

You look around the alley and run to the grimy dumpster further down, hiding behind it and willing yourself to calm your breathing. 

Closing your eyes, you place a cold hand over your own mouth, praying it will quiet your own ragged breaths.

“C’mon, guys, let's be reasonable.” It's the voice of a man and it is not familiar.

He seems to be stepping closer, slowly. You creep closer to the wall and hope the footsteps cease. 

They do.

“Reasonable would be having your head for the shit you pulled on us, Giran.” A different voice, hostile. You're starting to think these people have nothing to do with you.

The guy, Giran, sounds weary, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m always good on my word.”

There’s another voice piping up now, denying his words, insisting that they were scammed. Between the rain and the men talking over each other it feels impossible to understand. You decide it's best to just wait this out, you’re sure they will finish soon and you can go back to figuring out your next move.

“Bullshit!” Someone yells and it startles you, pulling your attention back to the scene unfolding behind you.

The sound of a gunshot rings through the alley and you jolt in surprise, reflexively covering your ears as your heart stops in your chest. What the fuck was happening right now. Whatever Giran was going to say doesn’t make it far.

“Oh shit,” one voice panicks, “what the fuck did you do, dude!”

“You said we would get him back!”

“Not kill him, you fucking idiot!”

Your nerves are on fire as you hear the pair run off, leaving Giran groaning in pain and bloody.

You move fast, rushing from your place behind the dumpster to the wounded man. Giran was slumped against a wall, hand clutching his abdomen and breathing heavily. You don’t know what's compelling you to do this, so you blame it on the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. No one deserves to die here.

“Hey!” You yell out, an attempt to get his attention and keep him from slipping into unconsciousness. His brows lifted as his eyes met yours and you’re just glad this stranger is still breathing. “Let me help you.”

He only looks at you and you’re sure he’s fighting with all he has to hang on. You’re probably a sight to see yourself — clothes drenched in a mixture of blood and rain and eyes wild with panic.

You reach for his hand covering the bloody wound and he only presses tighter.

“Trust me.” You plead, meeting his eyes in desperation before trying again. Giran nods, moving his own hand and allowing you a chance to see the injury for yourself — blood was everywhere and given the rain you had no clear view. You shoot him a pointed look once more before going for his shirt, lifting it and exposing his stomach and bloody wound. You could work with this. 

Your hands were freezing cold, but you willed yourself through it, bringing both to hover over his abdomen and focusing. Giran watched the soft green glow emit from your hands and wash over his wounded abdomen, his wound healing from the inside out. Raindrops drip from your hair and down your nose, yet you focus until the injury is gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. 

Giran sighed, resting his head on the brick wall behind him, muscles relaxing and breath stabilizing.

“You’re a healer.” He speaks, voice hoarse and winded.

You nod, bringing your hands back and looking at the grovel below, “yeah, something like that.”

A silence falls over the both of you, the rain continuing to seep its cold into your bones. It's almost time to face your reality again. Time to get up and move.

“What are you doing out here, kid?'' Giran speaks again, voice gaining more clarity as he stabilizes from the events before. 

What are you doing out here? Where even is here? You weren’t paying attention while you ran — there was only the urge to get away and get away as fast as you could. 

“I...” you look down at your clothes clinging to your form and drooping lower than they should due to the onslaught of rain. Not even the rain could wash away the blood staining the cotton material. Whatever may have gotten on your face could be washed away, but you’re unsure. “I don’t know.” You finish, chancing a glance at Giran. 

He looks to you before taking a moment to stand, finally gaining composure and taking a slow breath.  

You follow suit, ready to go the other way, never see this man you saved again. 

“I owe you one, kid,” Giran starts again, adjusting his glasses, and you begin to protest. He cuts you off, “Those crooks almost killed me. Really, at least let me get you someplace warm.” he insists and you stare for a moment, you were unsure of your next move anyway. 

You nod, “alright.”

—---------

Giran takes you to an underground bar. One where the lighting is low and there aren't many people around. You’ve never been to a bar before, but you’re sure this one had bad news written all over it.

Even so, you don't feel afraid. The bar had a bathroom where you could dry off better and there was even spare clothes in the lost and found. You were finally able to get the rain soaked clothes off and wipe away the red staining your face as well. It was miles better than what you had before. 

Now you were sat across from Giran as he lit his cigarette, taking a drag and exhaling it to the side. 

The harsh smell of nicotine flooded the area and you bit back the scrunch of your nose as you stuffed your face with chips from the bar. Once your adrenaline settled, the feeling of hunger was overwhelming. 

“So,” you're midbite when Giran speaks, breaking the silence, “what were you doing out there, kid?”

You force your food down and ponder your answer. There was no reason you shouldn’t trust Giran right now, but—

The splatter of blood crosses your mind, accompanied by a memory of glass breaking that makes you shiver and you decide that no, you couldn’t share this.

“I…” you can’t meet his eyes, “I got lost.”

Giran taps the ashes from his cigarette and sucks his teeth. “Lost, huh?” He raises a brow, “where are you from, then? You were covered in blood, and not all of that belonged to me, so what’s your deal – are you some kind of hero?”

You vehemently shake your head, “no, no. I’m not a hero.” You anxiously pick at the loose sem in the sweater, “I’m nobody. Not anymore.”

“You’re a healer, people would kill for a quirk like that.” He takes another drag, blowing the smoke and pointing to you, “what is it you were running from?”

There were tears welling in your eyes and you wished this conversation could be over. The reality of the situation setting in. “I hurt someone. Bad.”

“Can’t be that bad since you can heal ‘em, right?”

You’re quiet. Flashes of what occurred hours ago flooding your memory. It feels so far away. So foggy. “No. No, I didn’t heal them.” Your fists tighten in your lap. “I hurt them and then I left. I ran away and now I’ll never go back.”

Giran looks you over for a bit before tapping the excess ash from his cigarette. “Well, since you need somewhere to go and you have a pretty sick quirk, I think I have the perfect place for you.” 

—---------

The dark corridors Giran leads you through feel endless and you can’t help but wonder if he’s leading you into a trap of some kind. You thought the bar before was shady, but wherever the hell he was taking you seems to be much worse. 

There was no elaboration on where you were going, just an absent trust me and promises that you would be safe and taken care of here. Promises that no one would look for you or find you here. You sigh, out of options and desperate. He had no reason to lie to you, but it still gave you an uneasy feeling. 

“This guy,” Giran’s voice catches your attention, “Can seem like kind of a brat, but he’s good on his word.”

It’s as if he could feel your restless thoughts and you only purse your lips, glancing at him and then back forward, noting a large metal door coming into view. 

You can't fight the lump of dread in your stomach but you try to put on a brave face as the screech of the heavy metal door fills the corridor. It led to another bar — this one looking more… normal. Empty, quiet and even quaint. 

The only occupants being a shadow-like figure of a man, dark cloudy whisps covering his face and hands and another, younger man dressed in all black and sporting what looked like a pale blue hand covering his face like a mask.

“Giran,” the man spoke, voice raspy and sharp. He couldn’t have been much older than you, maybe younger. “What have you brought us today?”

The man in question smiled, gold tooth glimmering in the low light of the bar. “Something special.” 

You couldn’t see much of the man’s face beyond the hand, but you could see the glint of interest in his red eyes. 

“Is that so…” he turns his attention to you, “what’s your name?” 

His gaze gives you goosebumps and you turn to Giran, seeking some kind of reassurance, but the boy speaks again, “Don’t look at him. I’m the one talking to you.” 

It shakes you, but you snap your attention back to him and tell him your name. 

“And why are you here?” 

You don’t know. You have no idea why Giran brought you here and you don’t even know who this guy is. How could you hope to answer that with no information?

Giran steps in before you can make a retort, “she’s here because I think you could get a lot of use out of her, Shigaraki.”

 Shigaraki’s gaze never leaves yours. “Oh, yeah? What’s your quirk?”

You bite your lower lip, you didn’t expect this to be an interview of some kind. Shigaraki looks impatient, tapping a finger on the bar beside him. You swallow your nerves and speak, “My quirk is called Vitality – I can heal others and myself.”

“That’s a rare find, Giran, even for you.” Shigaraki crossed his arms, interest successfully piqued. 

Giran huffs a laugh, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag. “Yeah, well, she kind of found me.”

You steal a look at Giran, the smoke leaving his lips as he speaks. Shigaraki doesn’t say anything, his silence seemingly urging Giran to continue. “This one here saved my life yesterday. Some hothead shot me and she rushed in and healed me. I’m good as new.”

Shigaraki scoffs, tone sardonic and cruel, “Wow, how heroic of you.”

It feels like you’ve made the wrong choice, like the idea of saving someone was foolish and wrong. You acted on instinct — no one deserved to die there.

“So, what’s your deal, then? The heroes would kill to have you on their side. Why are you here?”

“I don’t care about the heroes,” it’s the truth, you want nothing to do with their flashy shows of power and silly displays of heroism. “I couldn’t care less for it.”

You see Shigaraki’s eyes narrow through the fingers of the hand on his face. “So you’re one of Stain’s followers, then?”

Who? You didn’t keep up with that kind of stuff. You vaguely remember seeing the news articles about some crazed villain, but you have had your own villain to deal with. Nothing else mattered. 

This was beginning to frustrate you. All the questions, all the prying — who cares about any of this stuff? You don’t even know where you are!

“I’m not familiar with him. I don’t care for any of it.” You couldn’t help but hear the question ring in your head again. 

Why are you here?

“I don’t,” you start up again, voice catching in your throat. “I don’t have a home to go back to.” 

The memory of glass breaking and blood splattering crosses your mind, running away in the rain clouds your thoughts, yet you continue, “I don't know what lies ahead for me, I don't have a future anymore. I just happened to stumble upon Giran.” 

Shigaraki is quiet for a moment. You have to force yourself to refrain from squirming under his gaze. 

“Show me.”

Your eyes snap to his, “What?”

“Show me your quirk.'' His voice is firm and unwavering. You’re looking at him to see if you could find any injury or even bruises but from your distance you cannot. It's not until Shigaraki pulls the already loose collar of his shirt down over his shoulder and you see it. There’s a large bandage on his shoulder and your steps falter a bit – not expecting him to expose so much skin so easily.

You swallow, uneasiness buzzing through your veins as you watch him remove the bandage and expose a gash on his shoulder. It looks recent, but you can't tell from this distance, so you move towards him. 

The closer you get, the more you notice the finer details of the man. His ashen hair looks soft up close and his dark shirt does little to hide the lithe muscle underneath. It’s like walking into the cage of a wild tiger, sitting and waiting for its perfect moment to grab you.

He notices your hesitation and sucks his teeth, “I don’t have all day.” 

You swallow your nerves and continue on. The closer you get, the more clearly you can see the scars on his neck as well. Not as bad as the gash on his shoulder, but still noticeable. You try not to steal too long of a glance and reach out, slowly — ready to heal him. 

The wound doesn’t seem to be very deep so you only use one hand, a seafoam green glow emitting and covering his injury. 

Shigaraki inhales slowly, feeling the relieving effects of your quirk healing him from the inside out. It doesn’t take long, the wound was already in the process of recovering before so this was more minor than you thought. You pull away once you were sure his shoulder was back to normal, taking a cautious step back from the man before you. 

His attention is on Giran as he rolls his shoulder, flexing out all the previous tension and sighing in relief. 

“Something like this isn’t easy to come by, Giran. What’s your price?”

Price, he says. Like you’re cattle, as if you’re some kind of product to be shipped off and traded. It makes you feel low. 

Giran shrugs, smile pliant on his face and cigarette hanging loosely in his mouth. “No price. I told you – I owe this kid my life. Just make sure she’s safe and fed and we’ll call it even.” 

Shigaraki still seems to be skeptical because he stands to his feet and you take another step back from him. His form is tense and you have to fight the urge to run to the door behind Giran. Shigaraki is taller, even with his slouched posture, and the sinking feeling in your stomach only grows as you anxiously watch for his next move. 

You vaguely register the man engulfed in dark clouds calling Shigaraki’s name — a warning in his tone. 

Giran raises a hand, smile never faltering. “Seriously. Eye for an eye.” He cocks his head, “But I’m not opposed to additional payment, if that’s what you want.” 

It's a joke, one that the man before you does not find funny. He stands up straighter, “Whatever. Fine, we’ll take her in.” 

You’re unsure if this is something you should celebrate or ease your way out of, but Giran seems to take it well. An honest smile gracing his features as he looks back to you, “You hear that, kid? You're in.” 

Shigaraki turned to the shadowlike man behind the counter, “Kurogiri, prepare a room for her.” 

Kurogiri nods and makes his way from behind the bar, you assume you should follow, but this was… a lot to take in. If they were to take you in then you wont ask too many questions. As long as you could lay low and keep to yourself then things would be fine. This wouldn’t have to be forever, just long enough to get yourself together and make your next moves. 

You find solace in that thought as you walk past Giran — sending you an amiable wave as you trail behind Kurogiri. 

Shigaraki stays behind in the bar and you’re thankful, his demeanor doesn’t seem like one you would like to be around for long periods of time. 

There’s a brief moment when you're passing Shigaraki. His eyes meet yours and you notice the shine in them, a glimmer of covet curiosity so quick you almost miss it. 

And you can’t help but wonder what exactly is it you’ve just gotten yourself into.