Tw: NSFW Mdni, Fwb!shiggy, Big Cock Shiggy Propaganda, Love You At The End, Lighthearted, Piv, Mild,

Shigaraki x Fem Reader

Tw: stalking, mentions of Shigaraki having kidnapped and r*ped girls in the past, consensual kidnapping (idk, but reader is eager for it fhrhdhdh), reader is fucked up in the head, reader is way too happy with being turned into a pet, 'pet' as a term of endearment, one death threat (not towards reader), owner/pet relationship, one use of 'pup' and 'master', surprisingly soft, could be considered ooc, dubcon since reader falls asleep while fucking.

Based on something @zhongh-li wrote. The og was deleted, so here's the summary: during an interview where Shigaraki reads tweets directed at him, he comes across one tweet of you saying you would give everything up in order to suck his dick. This pleases him, and turning to the camera he says "You should have left your phone number, how will I be able to contact you? I want my dick sucked." (@zhongh-li 's version was way better, but that was the gist of it, now onto the actual fic dhdhsysu)

You had replayed the clip about ten times now. Eyes wide open, jaw hanging in surprise as you simply replayed the sound of his voice saying your user name over and over.

Not only that, but he had asked you to dm him.

Of course, it could have been just a joke. But there was a 1% chance that he was serious, and you simply could not let that chance slide. The only problem was: you didn't know his twitter user.

Of course you didn't, he was the most dangerous villain, he wouldn't be posting in the internet making it easy for cops to track him. You had to think. You were so focused on the fact that your idol had noticed you, that you didn't even stop to think about the ramifications of what you had done.

You had just publicly declared allyship to a villain organizarion, and your account had been broadcasted for all to see. The knock on your door later that day should not have surprised you. But it did, and you sweated and stuttered as men in black suits opened up the doors to your one room apartment, warrant in hand, claiming you were under suspicion of being complicit in the League's crimes.

All because of a horny tweet.

In the end, things got solved, as there was nothing connecting you to the criminals besides some scattered thirst posts you had made and some anti hero rants on your Instagram. Your claims could honestly have landed you in jail if you had a quirk, but a quirkless runt like you didn't pose any real threat. Still, your twitter account had been suspended due to "spreading propaganda" and all your hopes of meeting with Shigaraki were crushed.

Back in his hideout, he smiled to himself. Silly little girl. As soon as he finished filming that interview, he went straight to his computer to find out just who you were. After all, there was a chance you could be his type, how could he pass on the opportunity of getting his cock sucked by a cutie?

You honestly exceeded his expectations. While stalking you online, he figured it would be a troll, maybe a dude, or someone really old, or even too young for him. Instead, he found your Instagram, filled with pictures of your pretty face. You seemed to be around his age, and your anti hero discourse in some of your story highlights made his smile grow even wider.

By the time the video was released, he had already found your address, and had hidden cameras set all over your apartment. Online, you seemed willing, but who knew what would happen when he actually contacted you. That's why he decided to monitor you for a while, just to make sure he could get you in a situation where you wouldn't be able to run.

Little did he know that all his worries were pointless, as you were in fact more than willing to satisfy his every need.

He chuckled as he watched you replay the video time and time again, your embarassed yet happy expression at his reply was endearing, you seemed to really love him, after all. How useful.

You went to bed exhausted after being interrogated by those men. You mindlessly played on your phone until a notification on instagram caught your attention.

"You were so cute reacting to the video. But so silly too, of course the government would show up if you posted things like that. Lucky for you, cute, silly and willing to please are just my type."

You froze. Yes, this could be Shigaraki. But also, it could very well be a random stranger who had started to stalk you. You trembled, eyes fixed on the message at the screen. You didn't reply. Moments passed, and a new message appeared. A video.

Gulping, you pressed play.

A hand held a paper, your user name written on it, along with the sentence "is this enough proof that I'm the real deal?" Five of his fingers touched the paper, and soon, it was turned into dust. Your heart beat rapidly against your chest as you gasped in surprise.

Fingers quickly moving trough the keyboard, you didn't want to keep him waiting.

"I am so sorry for doubting you, I can't believe this, I love you, aaaaaaaaaaa!!"

"You love me? How sweet. So I guess that means I am getting my dick wet, after all?"

You could die happy.

"YES YES!! Please, please let me, I know I can make you feel good, please!"

"Careful, if you keep acting sweet I might just take you and never let you go."

Were you dreaming? Did God finally bless you by making your fantasies of being taken away from your shitty life finally come true?

Was it even healthy for you to be so willing to allow this? Shouldn't you be scared at the way he had clearly stalked you?

Some say love is blind, and that may as well be true, because you ignored every single red flag as you typed "What if I told you that I've been dreaming of being taken away all along?"

Palming his erection, Shigaraki was completely stunned at your behaviour. The footage of your reactions to his messages made it clear you were being truthful. How could a person so willing to dive straight into dangerous territory like that even exist?

You were clearly fucked up in the head, but then again, broken girls were always the kinkier ones.

"Stay in your room tomorrow, don't go outside. Message your family you're gonna go on a trip, say an ex has been harassing you and you need a break. Destroy your phone and your computer, and wait for me. I'll make your dreams come true."

You should be scared. You should be fucking terrified. But instead, you squealed in delight, hugging your pillow as you immediately did what he ordered. Bye bye, work. Bye bye, shitty apartment. Bye bye, boring life. Your prince in a white horse was finally coming to take you away from the confines of hero society.

When Shigaraki opened the door to your apartment, part of him still expected a bad reaction. He thought you would look at him in disgust, yell, fight back. The idea of someone loving him was just too forgein.

It didn't make sense for him to think like this. He had been glued to his computer, watching the camera feed nonstop, even neglecting sleep just to watch you. He had seen you obediently follow his orders with a smile on your face, heard the way his name fell from your lips when you slept. Yet he still couldn't believe it.

Which is why the lack of reaction caught him off guard. You noticed him, but you didn't scream. You didn't cry, you didn't run away in disgust. You smiled, softly whispering "finally..."

Fuck... He might end up falling for you for real.

"Come." Was all he said, and you did as you were told. You didn't bring anything with you, just the clothes on your body. You obediently allowed Spinner to blindfold you, as he explained it would be dangerous to have you see throughout the car ride, since it would give away their exact location.

Shigaraki had pets before. He knew how to break down a girl and how to deal with them fighting back. He was used to being called all sorts of names as he tried to get them to understand their position. After a bout a year, they would finally be perfectly broken. But you? You were more obedient than any of the girls he tortured, and he hadn't even laid a finger on you yet.

The others couldn't hide their surprise when you asked for permission to speak. You thanked Shigaraki as soon as he allowed you, saying that you were really happy that he had allowed you to be in his presence.

Indeed, you were. You weren't a villain, but not by choice. By the time you were a teen, you were already filled with hatred for the hero world, swearing to yourself that if only you had a quirk, then you'd make everyone pay. Being allowed to be in Shigaraki's presence truly felt like a blessing.

"Quirkless, huh? Poor little thing. Don't worry, pet, If you're good to me, I'll give you one."

That was too good to be true. Embarassed, you stammered "N-no, please, someone as lowly as me is grateful just being allowed near you, t-that's too much..."

You couldn't see the smile on his face.

"You just earned yourself a treat."

The car stopped, and people started touching you. You didn't fight back, as you allowed them to carry you into what you assumed were the hideout. Many voices could be heard. A girl squealed "Am I getting a new dolly?"

A man whisteled "Good one, boss. Can I fuck her later?"

You didn't have time to frown, as Shigaraki's voice echoed trough the room "If you even breathe near her I'll fucking kill you."

You smiled, you felt safe.

Finally, you heard a door closing, and the blindfold came off. The blinds were closed, and the lights turned off. Computer monitors were the only source of light, blue light illuminating your idol's face. He sat on a chair, red eyes looking down on you as he smiled.

"Time to play, pet."

You didn't waste time, immediately moving your hands towards his sweatpants. You looked deranged, and Shigaraki figured that that was a great word to describe you. After all, only someone sick would act like this.

Drool fell from your mouth as you asked "Am I really allowed? Can I really? Are you sure?"

Four fingers pressed against your head, pushing you to his erection. "Less talking, more sucking."

With a smile on your face, you took his cock out of his underwear, marveling at it. Any normal person would be disgusted at the lack of grooming Shigaraki practiced, but not you. You took his lenght in your mouth, bitter taste flooding you as your eyes teared up. It should have grossed you out, and yet, it didn't.

You took it all in, no regards for your own safety as you choked on it, forcing yourself to swallow every bit of skin, even if it meant you couldn't breathe. His balls slapped against your chin as you moved, his musk invading your nostrils, every sensation driving you crazy.

You were so focused on doing good, you didn't even realize how Shigaraki panted and moaned, body shivering with every swipe of your tongue, mind blown as he never had someone so willing to please him like this. He was going to cum soon, and he didn't care.

Eight fingers grabbing onto your neck, dry, bruised skin rough against your softness, overgrown nails digging into you as warm white liquid filled your throat. He took his cock out, and marveled at how you moaned in delight upon tasting his seed, drinking every single drop he had given to you.

You bowed. You fucking bowed, like the obedient little pup he had come to learn you were, and thanked him for allowing you to suck him off. Fuck, it was like you were the personification of every single one of his fantasies.

His face flushed bright red, as he finally allowed himself to express how he felt inside, safe in the privacy of his own room. You kept your head on the ground, waiting for an order. "G-get up..." He mumbled, still taken aback by your every action.

You smiled to him, adoration in your eyes as you looked at him. Putting on his tough guy act again, he scoffed. "My lap, now. Gonna reward you for being good."

You squelaed, immediately sitting between his thighs. His hands wandered trough your body, pinky fingers always away from your soft skin as he groped you all over, your mewls music to his ears.

He pinched your nipples, making you cry out his name, quivering lips and teary eyes looking up at him, making him feral. Damp cloth grinded against him, your arousal evident as you desperatly chased your high.

Your master was benevolent, undressing you, and filling your needy little hole with his cock. Your walls clenched as you took him in, repeating "thank you" over and over as your legs shook, laying soft kisses in every part of him you could reach.

His cock twitched, no one had ever touched him like that, with love, with need. He barely had to move, your needy body moving up and down, moving on his cock as you moaned, putting on a show for him. You felt exhausted, not used to moving your body that much, but for Shigaraki, it felt needed. He shouldn't have to do any work, it was your job to please him.

Soon, you were creaming on his erection, panting as you clung to him, conscious fading as physical exhaustion took over. One arm held you in position as he thrusted a couple more times, reaching his own orgasm while pulling you flush against him.

Your unconscious state allowing him to be vulnerable, chapped lips brushed against your cheeks as he held you close, an affectionate smile on his face as he closed his eyes, letting himself sleep, his cock still buried inside of you.

I truly sacrificed to create this ridiculous mug. biting clay is a bad sensory experience 😔 who would have guessed

I’m tempted not to glaze the bite marks so it looks like it was bitten through the glaze lmao

Enough to Go By (Chapter 4) - 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

Chapter 4

You think about Tenko more now, but you’re allowed to – he’s your patient, and if he was your patient at the clinic, you’d expect to see him for a follow-up on the four gunshot wounds you cleaned and dressed. You’re allowed to think about him, so you think about him. You think about him a lot.

The thoughts take two directions. One is just wondering about him – how he’s feeling, how he spends his days, what he’s thinking about, what he thinks of you, whether he’s thought about you at all. The other is thinking about the situation he’s in. His parents and grandparents and his sister are dead. He’s been missing for fifteen years. He’s got a quirk and he’s a villain, ambitious and strategic enough to target UA High and escape alive, albeit badly injured. His guardian is a cloud of mist in a suit with some kind of split personality. And there’s someone else in his world – two someone elses. The doctor he referenced, who wouldn’t help him, and the one he calls Sensei, who gave him his new name and a hand to wear over his face and set him up to fail.

You think about Tenko a lot, but you can’t think about him all the time, because now that you’re a nurse, you’re twice as busy as you were before. The doctors expect more of you, and so do the other nurses – and so do the MAs and CNAs and high school students who are starting their apprenticeships, since you now have three years’ experience to go with your reputation for smoothing things over with difficult patients. Your friends keep you busy, too. They might call Kazuo to find out if something’s wrong with them, but they call you to find out what to do about it.

“You need to get a scan,” you say to Yoshimi for probably the fifth time. “I know you don’t want to –”

“It’s weird!”

“Not any weirder than whatever Yoji does when the two of you are at second base,” you say, and in the background of the call, someone snickers. If you had to guess, you’d say it’s Mitsuko – she has the guts to bully Yoshimi into making the call, combined with the brass balls to feel comfortable eavesdropping. “It’s called a mammogram. You’d have to start getting them at some point anyway, just like we all do. It’s just to make sure there’s nothing weird going on.”

“Stop it. You’re freaking her out for no reason.” Yoji’s there, too. “It’s probably just an STD.”

You’re stunned into silence for a second by the sheer classlessness of saying that about one’s own girlfriend, but you bounce back fast. “First of all, they’re called STIs, genius. Secondly, there’s not an STI on the planet that gives you nipple discharge. Yoshimi, get the scan. I’ll go with you if you want. Just get it done.”

“Can I do it at your clinic?”

“Uh –” You glance at the Imaging queue. Things look quiet, but you can’t count on that to last – but if you report Yoshimi’s symptoms, which include soreness, nipple discharge, and what she describes as a weird rash, you’re pretty sure the doctor on call will bump her to the head of the line. “Yeah, come in now. I can’t stick around after my shift, though. I have stuff to do tonight.”

“Ooh, stuff. Let me see –” There’s some rustling, which you can only assume is Mitsuko grabbing the phone. “Is stuff tall, dark, handsome, way too serious, and currently working as a sidekick?”

“That would be stuff,” you admit. “It’s not a big deal. We’re just grabbing a drink after our shifts.”

For the first time since you and Kazuo broke up, you have a date, and it’s Kazuo’s fault. Or maybe it’s you and your friends’ fault, because you decided to throw Kazuo a twentieth birthday party and invited a few of his friends from UA. One of those friends is Sugimura Hiroki, who fits perfectly with your type of dark-haired boys who want to be heroes and who’s so painfully shy that it took him six beers and the entire party to talk to you. You were sort of weirded out by that. You’re not very intimidating, and you spent the first half of the conversation trying to figure out if he knew you were quirkless, since you learned the hard way that it’s something you need to disclose up front. But the two of you eventually worked your way around to the point, which was that Sugimura wants to get to know you better, and he tripped over his tongue so badly that you finally just asked him out to end the suspense.

It’s taken you a while to actually schedule the date, but tonight’s the night, and you’re sort of anxious about it. Luckily, work is busy enough to keep you distracted. Your lunch break ends while Mitsuko is still going into increasingly nasty speculations about Sugimura’s physical attributes, and you hang up the phone without saying goodbye.

There’s a message waiting for you on your computer, from the front desk. FOF. Can you take him?

It’s not Tenko. You know Tenko wouldn’t come here again. You send the same message you did when it was him. How F are we talking?

Jumpy, talking to himself, chainsmoking. He’s in costume.

“In costume” could literally mean that the patient’s wearing a costume, but it’s also code for when the front desk thinks the patient’s a villain. You’re used to dealing with villains by now. Send him back.

When the knock on the door comes, you’re ready and waiting, and the CNA ushers in a tall man in a black-and-grey bodysuit – so “in costume” was literal this time around – and a paper bag over his head. You’re momentarily transfixed by the paper bag, and more so when you realize that he’s bringing a lighted cigarette to his mouth while wearing something highly flammable on his face. The CNA shuts the door and bolts. You face your patient and introduce yourself. “Have a seat if you feel comfortable doing so. What brings you in today?”

“I’m not – whole.”

That’s concerning. “Are you injured?” Your concern grows when he gestures at his face. “It would really help if I could see the injury. Can you take the bag off?”

He shakes his head. Instead he reaches into his pocket and produces a torn full-face mask. You look at him, then at him, putting the pieces together. “How do you feel right now?”

He doesn’t answer – maybe can’t answer – so you default to the face chart you use when little kids aren’t able to express how they feel in words. Your patient points to scared, stressed, anxious, angry. Then he throws in happy, possibly to mess with you, or to distract you from the fact that the first four emotions indicate that he’s ready to snap at any second. “How about this?” you ask, after thinking it over. “I can ask the doctor to give you something that will help you calm down –”

“Please!” The patient bursts out. Drug-seeking? “No, I don’t need it, sister! I’m so calm it’s hard to believe.”

“Okay, then we’ll just have it here in case you decide you want it. As an option,” you say, keeping your voice smooth and calm. “Either way, this is a quiet place to wait. You’re safe in here with me. And if you want, I can sew up your mask for you. Would that help?”

“You can do that?”

“Easily,” you say. “Can I see it for a second? I need to make sure I grab the right thread.”

The patient hands the mask over, which is a good sign. You’ve established at least a little bit of trust. You examine the mask and decide that you’ll need the thinnest-gauge needle and thread you have. “I can definitely fix this,” you tell the patient. “It might look a little rough, but it’ll cover you up like it did before. And it should last until you get where you’re going.”

The patient nods. You stand up. “I’m going to get some supplies, and a little anxiety medication if you decide you want it. I’ll be right back, okay? Just wait here.”

The patient nods again. Given how labile his mood is, you need to be fast about this, and get back before he gets upset or decides to leave. You step out the door and shut it behind you, heading for the supply closet, but you’re waylaid on the way there by one of the doctors. “We need you up front. Now.”

“I can’t. I have a patient, and he’s –”

“I don’t care. We’ve got a hero coming to visit, and we need somebody to keep things calm,” the doctor says. Shit. “Figure out what they want, get them as little of it as you can get away with, and get them out of here.”

“Which hero?”

The doctor shakes his head. Great. “Just hurry.”

You can’t go just yet. “My patient’s got a lot of anxiety and he’s in costume. I need him to stay calm. Can you –”

“2mg diazepam. I’ll put it in the chart.” The doctor unlocks one of the medicine cabinets, extracts a prefilled dosage cup, and hands it to you. “Go.”

Diazepam is long-acting. Hopefully long-acting enough to keep your patient quiet while you get rid of the hero. You skitter back down the hall with the dosage cup and hand it over to the patient, along with a tiny bottle of water to wash it down. “I’ll be right back. Just finding the right thread.”

The patient downs the pill dry, which is both good and bad for you. You shut the door again and head for the lobby. You don’t make it there. A cloud of black mist boils up around you, swallowing you whole.

By the time your feet hit the familiar wooden floor of the bar, you’re already out of patience. “No. Send me back right now.”

“Shigaraki Tomura has need of you. You will assist him.”

“Not right now I won’t. You snatched me from work,” you say. You’re facing the wall and the All Might poster again, and you don’t want to turn around. If you see Tenko, it’ll make it harder to say no. “If I go missing, people will notice. Is he dying?”

“No,” Kurogiri says.

“Is he in imminent danger of dying?”

“No.”

“Then send me back,” you say. If Tenko’s asked Kurogiri to get you, it means he needs medical assistance – or follow-up. You’ve needed to follow up anyway. “I can come back later.”

“No, I need you right now!”

“How much later?” Kurogiri asks, ignoring Tenko’s protest.

You think it over. You can dispense with the hero situation quickly, stitch your patient’s mask, and sneak out of work early. They’ll have to give you the emergency time off. You’ve never asked before in three years of working there. “Ninety minutes.”

“That’s too long. Kurogiri, don’t let her leave!”

“Ninety minutes. I’ll be in the alley behind the clinic.” You ignore Tenko, too, in favor of focusing on Kurogiri. He’s the one who decides if you leave or not. “All right?”

The mist wells up around you again, which counts as a yes. You land on your feet in the hallway, reorient yourself, and head for the lobby again. Tenko wants you again – needs you, your stupid brain corrects – but he’s going to have to wait for you to sort this out.

The hero in the lobby is Uwabami, the Snake Hero, and she’s got two sidekicks with her. No, students. You recognize one of them from your limited viewing of the UA Sports Festival and feel a spike of guilt run through you. She’s from Class 1-A. The same class Tenko tried to kill.

You don’t need to think about that, and you don’t need to feel guilty, because you didn’t do anything to her. You force yourself to focus. Uwabami wouldn’t have brought high school students here if she was doing any kind of investigating, which means your patient and any others who might be nervous around law enforcement are probably safe. The question of why she’s here still remains. You step forward. “Welcome to Yokohama Free Clinic South. What can we help you with today?”

“We’re on patrol,” Uwabami says. “My interns gave some feedback that our patrol involved a little too much publicity –”

The students look unrepentant. Good for them. “So we’re engaging in some down-to-earth patrolling,” Uwabami continues. “Tell us about how heroes support your clinic.”

Heroes don’t support your clinic. Most heroes strongly dislike the free clinic network, and the feeling is mutual, for a bunch of reasons you’re more than willing to articulate. Then you think better of it. Picking a fight with a hero in front of hero students is a bad move if you want to get out of here any time soon, and if you’re going to keep helping Tenko, you need to stay completely off the heroic radar. You focus on the students instead. “You’re on internships, right? They’re supposed to show you what life will be like as a hero.”

“Yes,” the girl who’s not from 1-A says. “They’re supposed to.”

“We have a program like that here, too,” you say. You gesture for them to come forward, and they desert their supervising hero at high speed. “A lot of our nurses and techs started working here in high school. Let me introduce you.”

You’re on much more solid ground talking about this. This clinic and this program saved your ass – without their sponsorship, you’d never have been able to get around your quirklessness as a barrier to nursing school, and you started getting on-the-job clinical training while most other nursing students were stuck in the classroom. You catch yourself evangelizing a little bit, but you don’t think it’s the worst thing in the world to do. You’re proud of the work you do as part of the clinic. It’s nice to get to talk about it.

You clear the hero students out in half an hour, hoping you’ve impressed them even a little bit, then hurry back to your patient. The diazepam’s kicked in nicely, and he chatters away to you while you stitch the tear in his mask. You learn that his name is Jin, or Bubaigawara, or Twice, which you’d guess are his first name, his family name, and his villain name, in that order. He doesn’t say how his mask got torn and you don’t ask, but you send him on his way in a better mood than before. “Thanks, sister,” he says on his way out the door. “You could be worse. You’re a saint!”

Different tone, different pitch, completely different meaning between the first sentence and the second. It reminds you of Kurogiri. You know enough villains now that you can compare them to one another. You shake your head, bemused, then head back inside. Time to guilt-trip your boss into letting you leave two hours early.

Your guilt-trip is successful, mostly because of how you handled the hero situation, but as you’re trying to sneak out, Yoshimi arrives for her scan. After you cajoled her into the office, you can’t abandon her to some random tech. You do abandon Mitsuko in the waiting room, though – she says the words “nipple discharge” as loudly as possible, then starts picking on the scant amount of makeup you did for your date. You don’t feel bad at all for leaving her behind.

Yoshimi’s scan goes quickly, and just like you feared, it nets her a follow-up appointment at the main branch of the free clinic tomorrow. Tomorrow’s your day off. You promise her you’ll go with her – you, and not Mitsuko or Yoji – then talk the doctor into sending her home with a dose of a different anti-anxiety medication than the one you got for Twice. Then you check your phone for the time. Almost ninety minutes exactly. You race out to the alley.

The mist engulfs you almost the instant you set foot in the alley, and you’re in the bar a moment later, facing Kurogiri. Tenko’s nowhere to be found, and before you can ask the question, Kurogiri turns and sets off through a doorway, deeper into the recesses of the building. You follow him, wondering if this counts as being taken to a secondary location. Or maybe the bar counts as the secondary location, even though you’ve been here before. Either way, you’ve listened to way too many of Mitsuru’s true-crime podcasts.

Kurogiri leads you into an absolutely filthy room. The floor is covered – empty wrappers, empty cans, old newspapers and magazines, plastic cases for game disks and chips. You have a bad feeling about who lives here, and when Kurogiri clears his throat and speaks up, you’re proven right. “Shigaraki Tomura. I have brought the girl.”

The only semi-organized spot in the room is a desk with two monitors on it, a keyboard in front of it, and Tenko slumped down with his head pillowed on one arm. He looks up, and for a split second, you can see that he’s happy even behind the hand. Then his face turns bright red and his expression twists into a snarl. “I told you not to bring her in here! Get out!”

You don’t need to be told twice. You duck out the door and retreat about twenty feet down the hallway, listening as Kurogiri tries to placate Tenko. “You asked for her to be brought to you immediately, not for me to summon you when she arrived. I followed your orders to the letter.”

“I didn’t want –” Tenko breaks off, swears. Then he mumbles something, and Kurogiri chuckles. “Don’t laugh at me!”

You check your phone. You aren’t supposed to meet Sugimura until eight, but you’ve got no idea how long this particular encounter is going to run. You might need to tell him you’re running late. You’ve just sent the text and tucked your phone away when Kurogiri reappears. “We will return to the bar,” he says. “Shigaraki Tomura awaits you there.”

So Kurogiri warped him to the bar. You wonder what that was all about. Was Tenko embarrassed that you saw how filthy his room was, or just embarrassed that you saw his room at all? Or did he change his mind about wanting you here? The last thought upsets you. You follow Kurogiri back into the bar and find Tenko sitting at the counter. It’s an improvement from the last time you saw him, when he was sprawled out and bleeding from four gunshot wounds, but this time he’s got his arms crossed, clearly pissed about something. His face is still red behind the hand. There’s a bloodstained bandage taped to his right shoulder.

A pile of supplies appears on the bar as you come closer. “What happened this time?”

“It wouldn’t stop bleeding.” Tenko uncrosses his left arm to gesture at the wound. “This is the fourth one I’ve used.”

If he’s gone through four bandages, it must be pretty deep. “How long ago did it happen?”

“Two hours,” Kurogiri says. “Shigaraki Tomura sent me to retrieve you immediately.”

“Can you fix it or not?” Tenko snaps.

“I need to see it first,” you say. You come a few steps closer, sit down facing Tenko on the barstool next to his, and reach for the bandage. He doesn’t stop you from unwrapping it, and you detour to glove up before you start peeling the fabric of his shirt back from the wound. It’s oozing blood rapidly. It’s jagged at the edges, and deep – if you suctioned the blood away, you’d be looking at exposed muscle, and you’re so horrified by the fact that Tenko’s been badly hurt again that you ask a question you shouldn’t. “How did this happen?”

“Hero Killer,” Tenko says, and your stomach lurches. “I thought he might be useful, but he’s just like the rest of them. Obsessed with the precious Symbol of Peace.”

You don’t know very much about the Hero Killer, except that he kills or cripples heroes and he’s not in Yokohama any longer. Tenko’s still ranting. “Why can’t anybody shut up about All Might? Don’t they know –”

“That he’s not gonna fuck them?” you interrupt, and Tenko nearly chokes. “I guess they can dream.”

Tenko’s expression is contorting behind the hand. You’re pretty sure it’s not the result of your explorations of the wound, because you’re not touching it. You watch, concerned, as his shoulders shake and his mouth twitches, until awkward, rusty laughter finally issues from his mouth.

You always try to make people laugh. You’ve been in the habit since you were little. It’s an effective strategy for defusing tension, whether the joke is funny or not, and your jokes are usually at least kind of funny. But you always liked making Tenko laugh when you were kids. You were always just a little prouder of that than you were with other people. Tenko made people smile all the time. He deserved for somebody to make him laugh, too.

Tenko’s laughter is brief and uneven, because he’s trying to get it under control. “Stop it,” he finally snaps at you. His mouth is still twitching. “It’s serious.”

“Right,” you agree. But you can’t resist another joke. “It would be a novel strategy. If you can’t beat the Symbol of Peace, make him unfuckable instead.”

“I can beat him,” Tenko says, but his voice is strained to the point of snapping, and his shoulders are shaking again. “Can you fix my arm or not?”

“I can fix it,” you say, “but I’ll need a suture kit. And I’ll either need to cut your sleeve or you’ll need to take your shirt off.”

“I’m not taking my shirt off.” Tenko’s face is red again. “It’s ruined anyway. Just cut it.”

You cut his sleeve open from the neckline and peel it back, then go looking through the medical supplies. Kurogiri took your advice about additions to their supplies, and nothing turned up missing at work, which means they honored your request to steal from someone else. You’ve got local anesthetic this time, which is good, because you need it. You start numbing the edges of the wound, asking every so often if Tenko can feel what you’re doing. When he stops saying yes, you open the suture kit.

It’s a bit weird, but putting stitches in is one of your favorite parts of the job. You can get in the zone with it, even when the patient wants to talk. Tenko wants to talk. “People talk about the League of Villains out there. Don’t they?” he asks. You nod. “What do they say?”

“Um –” You’re not sure this is an answer Tenko wants to hear. “They’re wondering why the attack on UA happened.”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Like, if there was a message behind it,” you elaborate. You need to be careful, with the stitches and with this line of thought. “More than just killing All Might, because lots of villains want to do that. If there was a message, it didn’t get out. The police and UA haven’t shared much information – not even how the breach happened in the first place.”

Tenko scoffs. “They don’t have a clue. They won’t see it coming the next time we hit them, either.”

He’s planning something else. Your blood runs cold, and for a moment you’re torn about whether or not to ask. Tenko makes the decision for you. “What else do they say about the League?”

“Not very much, otherwise,” you say, and Tenko swears. “There are a lot of villains, just like there are a lot of heroes. People talk about the ones they see the most of.”

“Which heroes do you talk about?”

“I don’t really talk about heroes.” You tie off a stitch, trim the thread to the appropriate length, and take another. “One of my friends has this nasty crush on Endeavor, so we talk about him sometimes, but otherwise – no.”

“Your friend has a crush on Endeavor,” Tenko repeats.

“Like I said. Nasty.”

You’re conscious of Tenko staring at you, and you will your face not to heat up under his gaze. You don’t even know why he’s staring, and you’ve got stitches to do, so it doesn’t matter. Your phone buzzes in your pocket – probably Sugimura, probably confirming your date. A date you’re not sure you want to go on anymore. Did you ever really want to go on it? Or did you just say yes because –

“You look weird.”

You look up from the stitches, startled. “Huh?”

“You look weird,” Tenko repeats. “Your clothes are different and you’ve got stuff on your face.”

Tenko and Mitsuko feel the same about your makeup skills, apparently. “Sorry.”

“Why do you look like that?” Tenko presses. You tie off his next stitch. “Are you going on a date or something?”

You answer without thinking about whether it’s the smart thing to do. “Yes.”

It’s quiet for a long stretch of seconds. “Go on your date, then,” Tenko says. His voice is flat. “I don’t need you.”

It stings. You don’t want it to, but it does, and you look down at the cut on his shoulder so he won’t see it on your face. “You still need a few more stitches. At least let me finish them.”

“No. Get out.” Tenko jerks out of your grip. You barely have enough time to cut the hanging thread on your last stitch. “I don’t want you here. Kurogiri –”

“Shigaraki Tomura, I’m not sure that’s wise.”

“I didn’t ask you!” Tenko swats at you open-handed and you leap backwards. “Get out! I don’t –”

You don’t hear the end of that sentence. Kurogiri warps you away too fast, and possibly saves your life. He drops you back in the alley behind the clinic, holding half a suture kit and still wearing bloodstained gloves. You peel them off and dump them into the garbage, furious with yourself. You shouldn’t have said that. You shouldn’t have talked about your life at all, and above all else, you should have remembered that you were talking to a villain, not your best friend – that whatever’s left of your best friend isn’t enough. He’s angry with you, and he’s been having you followed. Just how angry is he? Angry enough to hurt you? Or angry enough to never talk to you again?

You’re sickened and more than a little scared to realize that you’re more frightened of the latter possibility than the former. It’s entirely possible that you’ve never been in less of a mood to go on a date.

But you do go on the date, because you said you would, and it’s – fine. There’s nothing to complain about, but there’s nothing to be excited about, either. You and Sugimura hug to say goodbye, and you promise to text each other about setting up another one, and then you walk home. Mitsuko texts you, wanting details, or DETAILS, but you’ve got nothing to share. It was just a date, and no matter how many times you try to tell yourself otherwise, you’re angry about it.

Not because of Sugimura asking you out, not because you agreed, not because you went. Because you told Tenko and gave him a reason to get rid of you. Why does this keep happening? Why do you keep finding him and losing him, over and over again? What is it going to take for you to hold on?

“So how was the date?”

The voice emanates from the alleyway on your right and you nearly jump out of your skin. Tenko’s there, hand down from over his face, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He hasn’t changed his shirt. “I didn’t think heroes were your type.”

“They aren’t.”

“Then why were you on a date with one?”

“He asked.”

“And you just go with whoever asks?” Tenko looks half-incredulous, half-disgusted. You shake your head. “Forget it. Come with me.”

You shake your head again and take a step back – away from the alley, closer to the street. Tenko looks frustrated. “Come with me,” he repeats.

“What, so you can kill me?” You take another step back, well into the glow of a streetlight. You see shock flicker across Tenko’s face. “I don’t have a death wish.”

“Well, I don’t want to kill you,” Tenko fires back. He looks surprised at himself for saying it, but only for a moment – then he repeats himself, with more conviction. “I don’t want to kill you. You’re supposed to be my sidekick.”

Your jaw drops. “You remember?”

“I don’t remember everything.” Tenko takes the hand called Father out of the back pocket of his pants and studies it for a moment. Then he puts it away. “I remember that.”

Some kids played a different game every day. You and Tenko always played the same one, with a rotating cast of classmates at your side. All the heroes in the world were working together to fight one big villain, the worst villain the world had ever seen, and Tenko could never decide which hero he liked best, so he played a different one every day. But no matter which hero he played, no matter who else was playing with the two of you, you were always his sidekick. You reminded him every day that you didn’t have a quirk, and he always said the same thing in response, no matter which hero he was pretending to be that day, even though he didn’t have a quirk, either: You don’t need a quirk to be on my side. My quirk’s enough for both of us.

“Come on,” Tenko says again. He holds out his hand, three fingers and his thumb folded down, his pinky finger extended towards you. “Are you coming or what?”

You’ve never seen the world in black and white, but some things are unmistakable: There’s a line here, not visible to others but clear as day to you. On one side of it is Tenko and the darkness that’s swallowed him, the evil that surrounds him, the terrible things he’s done and is planning to do. On the other side is everything else – your dreams, your friends, your family that’s always loved you but used you anyway, a world that’s punished you time and time again for being born without a quirk, the knowledge that the world is so much crueler to so many others. You don’t think Tenko’s planning to kidnap you, to never let you leave. You’ll come back here, physically. You’ll go home and go to sleep and wake up early on your day off to take Yoshimi to her appointment at the main clinic, but you know instinctively that if you cross this line within yourself, there’s no coming back. Tenko was your best friend when you were five years old. Is he worth it?

You hate yourself for asking the question. You leave the light behind and link your finger with Tenko’s. “Where are we going?”

The black mist rises and wells up around you both. “You’ll see,” Tenko says, and for the first time since you found him again, he smiles.

Yes please 😭✋oh god i beg for this

Not necessarily a request for a fic but I wanted to consult a professional about this question:

If we are talking canon Tomura, as in angry traumatized Tomura…what do we think are his kinks? Bc I want to imagine him with a mommy kink but that’s just me and it’s only believable if you really reach. What do we REALLY think he’s into (I’ll do anything for him idc)?

minors dni / NSFW

me personally? i love the idea of sub shiggy (thanks to you 😌) but canonically speaking i think he'd be very dominant and into bondage because the only (very little) control he has over anything would be his personal/sex life. he's taking orders from AFO most of the time so he's always submitting to at least him part of the time.

absolutely into orgasm control/denial because again, this is something he does have control over. i think he's also pretty much only capable of having rough sex and fucking the daylight out of you.

i reckon he'd also be heavily into impact play but i don't mean just spanking. i think he'd get off from slapping you across the face as also part of a humiliation kink bc let's be real, he's a villain and probably gets great pleasure from watching you squirm. i'll let your mind wander about what he does to humiliate you.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA | GAME OVER

summary: shigaraki isn't paying attention to you, so you decide to suck him off while he plays video games.

tags: explicit, fem!reader

“Tomura, are you still not done yet?” you whine. “I’ve been waiting forever.”  

Shigaraki barely even spares you a glance, too focused on mashing the buttons of his controller and staring at the TV without blinking.  

“Almost,” he says. “I’m trying to finish this level.”  

That’s what he’s been saying for the past hour, and if it’s up to him, he’ll probably be playing those stupid games for the rest of the night.

You press your lips together. Fine, then. If he keeps refusing to pay attention to you, you’re just going to have to make him pay attention.

Shigaraki doesn’t realize what’s happening at first. He’s too immersed in the game, brows furrowed as he masterfully presses buttons and controls his character with ease. This level is pretty damn difficult. He’s been trying to beat it for ages now, and it doesn’t help that it goes on for fucking ever. 

Tonight is the night he’ll beat it, though. He’s already made up his mind.  

Well, that was the plan, anyways.  

“...the hell are you doing?”  

Shigaraki finally notices that you’ve dropped to your knees in front of him. You’re keeping your head low, and he can still see the screen of the TV, but he feels you running your hands over his thighs and slowly inching them towards the waistband of his pants.  

“Nothing,” you reply sweetly. “It’s fine. Keep playing your game.”  

He has every intention of doing that. Still, he can’t help but frown. Are you trying to do what he thinks you are? Do you really think you’ll be able to distract him like that? 

“I’m beating this level,” he states, but already, he can hear his voice wavering a bit.  

Shigaraki redirects his attention to the TV, and he resists the urge to glance down when he feels you start stroking his cock through his pants. You’re gentle at first, only applying a small amount of pressure, but gradually, you start gripping him harder, pumping him through the thick fabric and making blood rush to all the right places.

He’s fully erect now, and you waste no time in letting his cock spring free.  

Shigaraki lets out a silent hiss. You’re still stroking him, except now he can feel your skin in direct contact with his. It feels so good how you’re pumping the shaft of his cock. Fuck. It feels really, really good.

Still, he refuses to lose focus. He said he was going to beat this level, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. This is just an extra challenge, that’s all. If anything, it’ll make his inevitable victory even more impressive.

Shigaraki pauses for a few moments to compose himself. Yeah. He can do this.

But then you take his cock into your mouth.

“Sh-Shit!”

He outright moans this time, and he feels you chuckle softly in response. The vibrations of your throat pulse against his cock, and it amplifies the pleasure tenfold.  

“Wait,” Shigaraki gasps. “Actually... hold on a second. I really need to finish this level first. I need to—” 

You ignore him, just like he ignored you for the better portion of the night. Delighted to finally elicit some kind of reaction out of him, you run your tongue over the drooling slit at the head of his cock, then pucker your lips together and suck in hard. Shigaraki mutters a quiet curse as you then loosen your jaw a bit more, only to plunge headfirst and deepthroat him.

“Oh, fuck.”

He’s still holding onto the controller, just barely. His fingers are pushing the buttons in a sloppy, uncoordinated fashion now, and even though it looks like he’s trying to keep staring at the screen, he can’t help but steal glances at you every so often.

Eventually, the controller falls from his hands, and as you stare up into his deep red eyes, you realize that you finally, finally have his undivided attention.

You moan softly, bobbing your head and sucking him at a steady rhythm. His cock tastes so good. You’re convinced you’ll never be able to get enough of it.  

“That’s good,” Shigaraki breathes, running his fingers through your hair. “Yeah—ugh. That’s really, really good...”  

His praise motivates you to try even harder, and you gag as you force yourself to take him all the way in, letting his cock bottom out against the back of your throat. Shigaraki moans again, and you don’t dare to break eye contact, despite the prickly tears that are forming.  

“Take it,” Shigaraki gasps. He’s careful not to use all five of his fingers, then grabs the back of your head and starts guiding your face up and down the length of his cock. You don’t attempt to struggle, even though his pace is difficult to keep up with. You choke and gag, drowning in saliva and tears, but knowing that you’re making him feel good makes you feel good.  

“I love seeing your cute mouth stuffed full with my cock,” Shigaraki says. He licks his lips in delight, a crude grin stretching across his features. “Fuck yeah. You’re so hot. You’re gonna make me cum.”  

He’s pretty much fucking your face at this point, and instead of trying to fight it, you forfeit all control and let him use you as he pleases. Your throat aches and burns from how relentlessly he keeps pounding his cock in, but god, it feels fucking amazing.  

“I’m about to cum,” Shigaraki pants. His thrusts are getting sloppier by the second, and a soft little whine even leaves his lips. “Shit, I’m... I’m coming!”  

He busts his load right into your mouth, and you moan in delight, greedily slurping up all the thick ropes of cum. There’s almost too much to contain, but you refuse to let any of it go to waste, so you stay there obediently and choke it all down.  

After a few more moments, Shigaraki’s convulsions stop, and he tucks his cock away, then slumps back onto the couch, utterly spent.

“Thanks for the meal,” you grin.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “Goddammit, [Name]. You’re such a needy little slut."

“But you love it.”

“...yeah,” he admits, cracking a grin. “I sure do.”

“Are you going to keep playing your game?” you ask innocently, even though you already know the answer.  

Shigaraki pretends to ponder it for a few moments, then shakes his head. “Nah. I guess I don’t have to beat it tonight. It can wait. More importantly...”  

He shoves you down onto the couch, then grabs you by the thighs and spreads your legs apart. His red eyes are glinting with mischief, arousal, and just the slightest hint of sadism.   

“Right now, I kind of just want to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”  

Hand Sizes

———————————————————

Sundrop x Reader: Hand sizes

Sun’s hands tho..🌞 Results from the poll! Love it!

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None. I don’t think so anyway? LMK if you spot something that could be considered offensive.

If you wanna check out more of my works: Masterlist

———————————————————

So far today was a normal day at the daycare. Sundrop was playing with the kiddos, You were observing to make sure everything was running smoothly.

Currently, You were sitting at the main desk, Looking over some Pizzaplex stuff before noticing Sundrop waving you over.

He was squatting next to a crying little girl, So you jogged over as quick as you could. “ Hey Sunny, Is everything okay?”

Sun looked up at you. “ Little McKenzie here lost her Freddy plush, Can you please go grab an extra one from the storage closet?” Sundrop had a tone of concern in his voice.

You nodded. “ Okay! I’ll be right back! It’s gonna be okay McKenzie!” You went off to get the plushie, While Sundrop tried to comfort her.

Once you got there, You noticed that the only Freddy plushie left was one of the bigger ones. You hummed, Hoping she will be fine with it. You grabbed the plush with both hands, Since it was a little bigger than a regular one.

You quickly got back to Sun and the little girl, At this point Sun managed to get her to stop crying. You squatted down in front of them, Holding out the plush a bit. “ McKenzie, Look! Your friend Freddy came back!” You wiggled the plush a bit.

She immediately lit up with joy, grabbing the plush from you, Hugging it tightly. You chuckled at the fact that this plush was basically a third of her body. She didn’t seem to mind the plush size, Which made you feel relieved. Sundrop however noticed it..

She ran off, Screaming ‘thank you!’

You just laughed, While you and Sun stood up straight again. You then looked at eachother, You were smiling at him. “ So, Did you need anything else Sunny?”

“ Your hands!”

“ Excuse me?” You head tilted, Face filled with confusion. Sun drop just laughed. “ Sorry! It’s just, Your hands looked so small! Normally when I hold that size plush, I just need one of mine.”

You then looked at your hands. “ Oh..Yeah?”

Sundrop nodded. “ Yeah! Wait, Let me see your hands!”

You raised an eyebrow, Before holding your hands out for Sun. He put his hands against yours.

“ Oh wow! Your hands are very small compared to mine!” He laughed. You chuckled as well, Your face growing a bit warm. “ Yeah! I’ve noticed that before though.”

“ You have?”

Now your face felt hotter. “ Well..Yeah. I watch you play with the kids almost all the time so..I’ve noticed a couple of details about you.”

If Sun could smile wider, He would. “ Oh! Well…” He then laced his fingers with yours. “ One of these days, I’d love to hear more about these ‘little details’ you’ve notice about me!”

———————————————————

I hope you enjoyed! I’ll definitely write a One-Shot for Moon too one day.

Who would win in a fight over you - Dabi or Tomura? And who would be better in bed?

Ooh! Ooh this is an interesting one!

Alright, so if Shigaraki and Dabi both catch feelings for you, you might as well put the High Noon soundtrack on repeat around the hideout because things are about to get a lot more hostile ‘round these parts. Much to everyone’s ire, they’re not exactly shy about this either. Those two don’t get along well on the best of days, so when they’re competing for something they both crave, things are going to get messy. 

But let’s start off slow, shall we?

Afficher davantage

Shigaraki Headcanons: Allergies

As a kid, Shigaraki had a ton of allergies. He couldn’t eat a lot of foods, including anything with nuts, certain fruits, and eggs. When AFO took him in, Shigaraki, like any five-year old, would constantly mention his allergies and dietary restrictions to him. AFO blew him off, because allergies aren’t real…  Shigaraki nearly died twice in that week alone. His near-death experiences traumatized him, causing him to refuse any food AFO prepared for him. The only time Shigaraki would eat, is when they got fast food, since Shigaraki remembered being able to eat McDonalds without having an allergic reaction. AFO quickly caved in and bought Shigaraki fast food everyday to keep him from starving. He became a picky eater, but AFO didn’t care enough to correct his habits.

Over time, AFO would spend a small fortune on trying to cure Shigaraki’s allergies through Garaki. Shigaraki was subjected to weekly shots for his allergies and his skin. He only stopped getting the shots when AFO got arrested. By that point, he grew out of most of his allergies anyways.

Goofy Xmas stuff that took WAYYY longer than it had any right to. Anyway don’t look too long at this or you’ll reveal how fucked it still is

i like to joke about my height but honestly i love it ! I'm 5'1 (1m54) by the way✨🫶

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