My Little Pet

𝓓𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓦/ 𝓣𝓸𝓶𝓾𝓻𝓪 𝓢𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓴𝓲

(𝑺𝑭𝑾 + 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝑾/ 𝑻𝒐𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒊 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑺𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 + 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑨𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅

When you first met Tomura, he was so fidgety and nervous around you, always scratching at his neck and cheek when he thought he had ruined his chance with you.

People would think it’s a bit creepy with the amount of staring he gives you, but he really is just awestruck by you; his eyes always admiring you.

When you two start officially dating, he feels like he’s in heaven; all his sorrows are washed away when he’s around you.

In public, he’s a bit distant, unlike in private, where he’s all over you. However, that all changes when he sees someone stealing your attention away from him.

He’s so possessive of you and will get jealous whenever he sees someone flirting with you or just chatting you up.

Expect a protective arm around your shoulders or a hand on your waist when you guys are out; he’ll lean in close next to your ear while walking you away from them. "You’re mine; remember that."

He’s pretty touch starved because of his past, so please smother him in kisses, hug him closely, and just make sure you’re close to him; he’ll 100% appreciate it.

He enjoys putting a hand on your thigh when you’re both sitting; he does it since it reminds him that you’re there with him.

When he’s playing video games, he’ll gladly let you play, though he might be an asshole when it comes to 1v1 games. He just likes being a winner LMAO

If you’re not into playing video games, then he wouldn’t mind you just watching him; he likes whenever you rest your head on his shoulder or when you let him rest on your lap while playing.

He also likes when you’re sitting on his lap, arms around his neck, while he's busy playing, though he’ll complain if you’re squirming around too much.

Tomura also likes sharing things with you; if it's his clothes, it's all yours. Food? He’ll pass you his plate; he just likes seeing your cute smile whenever he agrees to share things with you. He also loves having matching things with you, though he finds it ‘stupid’ his words—at first. He finds it really adorable to have matching jewelry or key chains with you.

When he compliments you, it comes off either possessive or a bit mean, so take it or leave it LMAO

"Your stupid face is so fucking cute." "So perfect just for me, my pretty girl." "Dumbass, why are you so adorable?"

NSFW BEYOND THIS POINT

Tomura was most likely inexperienced when going into a relationship with you, and he’s constantly thinking such impure thoughts when you’re around him.

When you’re sitting on his lap, he can’t help but grind his throbbing cock against you, his hands gripping the fat of your hips while he huffs hot breaths against your ear.

He has a love-hate relationship with the cute skirts and tiny tops you wear; oh, how the thin pieces of fabric make him want to pull them down and fuck your soft tits, flip up your skirt, and spank you, leaving his pants feeling tighter.

He’d fuck his fist, thinking about how heavenly your skin felt against him and how you’d look at him with those beautiful eyes and lips of yours.

Tomura is quite literally a pervert; when he goes over to spend time at your house, he'll steal a couple of your panties, maybe a bra or shirt, so he can later spill his cum along the fabric while thinking of fucking you.

When it comes to having sex with him, he often switches depending on his mood. If he’s needing to fuck out his anger, he’ll be more dominant, but in any other mood, he’ll let you decide and take the reins.

Oh, he definitely whimpers, especially when his head is buried between the plush of your thighs, his tongue lapping at your slick folds while you call him a good boy.

He loves it when you praise him, tell him how good he is, and reassure him that he’s making you feel so good; it always has his cock throbbing and tip leaking.

Loves when you sit on his face, his nose rubbing against the nub of your clit while his tongue slips inside you, and bonus if you pull his hair, he’ll give you the cutest whines.

If he’s feeling frustrated, he’ll become so rough with you, manhandling you and marking you up while he bullies his cock inside you.

When he’s upset, he shows more of his possessive side, especially if you make him jealous. His thrusts are harder, his grip on your ass is tighter, "You little slut, remember you’re mine."

"Don’t fucking forget who owns you—who owns this pussy." He groans out while he pushes your legs closer to your chest, his thrusts getting ever rougher as he reaches his high.

Tomura himself likes when you mark him up; he loves the feeling of your soft lips against his neck and chest, feeling your teeth graze his skin; it always has him melting against your touch.

"Such a fucking slut for me." He grunts out while you cock warm him inside your mouth. "Shit, so good at using that pretty mouth of yours."

When he’s fucking you, he enjoys positions where he can see your face, and he loves when you're all teary-eyed and flushed.

(Thank you so much for reading! Hope you all enjoyed! GYAH ok ngl this guy is so scrunkly but so fun to write about and in the future im definitely writing about him LMAO so if you're interested in that or want to request him my inbox is always open! also heads up i maybe unable to post for the weeks coming up due to a vacation im going on but i will definitely try to write some stuff during my break!)

Love Like Ghosts - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever.

But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble.

Cross-posted to Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Chapter 1

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. Rent in the city you live in is so goddamn fucking high that it was either keep living with the worst roommates in existence or find a way out to the suburbs. But the suburbs are wall-to-wall McMansions, so far out of your price range that calling it a bad joke would be an insult to both concepts. All except this one single neighborhood. And within this one single neighborhood, this one single house.

You knew there had to be a reason it hadn’t sold. You’re not an idiot. So you did your research, like the law student you wanted to be before your loans from undergrad kicked in, and found absolutely nothing. No murders in the house’s history. No accidental deaths. No urban legends about curses and creepy children living in the walls. You even went so far as to track down a previous owner, who was perfectly nice, and perfectly willing to talk about the three weeks he spent living there before he sold it and ran for the hills.

No, he said, he didn’t hear anything. Or see anything. No strange accidents or unstable floorboards. There were no strange bumps in the night or objects left out of place. Just a constant, ever-present feeling that he was being watched.

Carbon monoxide leak, maybe. When the pre-purchase inspection happened, you made them check that twice. And for toxic mold. But there was nothing. Just an old house in a too-big lot at the end of a quiet street, hemmed in by the wetlands on three sides. A total steal. You couldn’t believe that no one had bought it.

People come close, your realtor told you on your last walk-through. One time I had a lady come all the way to the end of escrow before she backed out.

Why’d she back out? you asked idly. Your realtor made a face. She didn’t say?

Oh, she said all right. Said something was wrong. That it didn’t like her. The realtor scoffed. It doesn’t like or not like anybody. It’s a house.

He said that, but you could tell he didn’t believe it, and because of that, you asked him if you could finish the walkthrough alone. He left reluctantly, clearly concerned that you were going to back out of the sale, too. You weren’t planning on it. You just wanted to see if there was something you were missing, if everybody else who hadn’t bought this house had picked up on something you didn’t. You walked from room to room, picturing where you’d eat, where you’d sleep, where you’d set up your office when you finally went to law school and got licensed and set up your own practice. You didn’t feel anything wrong, even when you sat down in front of the fireplace and played devil’s advocate one last time, trying to talk yourself out of signing the papers. It was just a house. Your house.

When you came down the front steps, your realtor was leaning against his car, looking more than a little dejected. His face fell when he saw you coming. Change your mind?

You shook your head. Give me the papers, you said. And I’ll need a pen.

Moving in took you one weekend. Less, even. Living in tiny apartments through college and your first few years on the job didn’t give you much room to accumulate pointless stuff, as much as you might have liked gathering little trinkets as a kid. It took you one and a half trips to move all the important stuff, and then it was just you yourself. You, yourself, and your dog.

Looking back, you definitely should have brought Phantom with you to check things out before you signed the papers. In horror movies, dogs are always the first ones to figure things out. But when you hooked up Phantom’s leash and let her out of the car to sniff around, she didn’t react at all beyond how dogs usually react to arriving in a new place – sniffing everything, picking up everything in her mouth, yanking at the leash until you let her tow you around the front yard. When she clambered up the steps to flop down on the porch, you breathed a sigh of relief. Phantom liked it here. You liked it, too.

And you still like it, three and a half weeks after you moved in. In fact, you think you might like it more than you did when you moved in. That’s not a surprise, really – your main criteria in buying a house was that it was a house, and not an apartment you have to share. Sure, your commute in to work sucks now, but it’s worth it when you get to come home to somewhere quiet. No terrible music. No terrible perfume or makeup smears on the bathroom counter. No rotting food in the fridge or moldy dishes in the sink. Nobody’s having very loud, very kinky sex in the room next to yours all night, because there’s no room next to yours – and there’s nobody in your house but you. You sort of wish you’d done the home ownership thing a while ago. It would have saved you a lot of stress.

“It’s kind of perfect, actually,” you say to your friend over FaceTime. “Really perfect. I wish you could come see it.”

“Yeah, me too. But you know how it is. Loans.”

“Loans,” you agree. “The downpayment on this place basically cleaned me out. If anything goes wrong I’m going to have to start selling my organs.”

Your friend laughs. “Start with plasma. You can replace that easier.”

“Or feet pics. I don’t have to replace those at all.”

She laughs, and so do you, and the sound echoes through your house. “Listen to that,” your friend marvels. “It must be dead quiet there.”

Quiet, sure – but over the past three weeks, you’ve noticed that the house feels alive even when nobody’s making noise on purpose. You can hear Phantom’s toenails clicking on the floor in the living room and remind yourself to get a rug. And a couch. You’re doing laundry, and the sound it makes is comforting. The hum of the fridge is, too. “I don’t mind,” you say. “I like it here. The only problem is the dust.”

The house has been empty for years by now, so it makes sense that there’s a lot of dust. You knew that going in, and you’re still slightly horrified at the clouds that come up every time you touch a surface that you haven’t dusted earlier that day. “We’ll just call you Cinderella,” your friend jokes, and you scowl. “Or not. Sheesh, lighten up. And throw a housewarming party! Get some real noise in there.”

“We’ll see,” you say. The idea of letting people you work with know where you live is frankly upsetting. And so is this conversation, honestly. You don’t know where the frustration’s coming from, but you’ve got to get off the phone. “I have to go. Phantom’s eating something and I need to fish it out. Love you.”

“Love y-”

You end the call and drop your phone screen-down on the table. The frustration you felt before is ebbing already, and with it comes relief – and confusion. You know you’ve got a bit of a temper, but you never let it out on friends, and you keep it hidden at work. Even at home you’re careful. You got Phantom from a rescue, and too much banging around or sharp words stresses her out. So why did you get so close there? Is the fairytale thing really that upsetting? Were you really that pissed at the idea of letting someone else in your house? Why?

Because it’s yours. It’s your place, where you don’t have to make excuses for anything you’re doing, where you can do whatever you want. God knows you worked hard to be able to have this place. You’re going to enjoy it the way you want to enjoy it. Nobody else gets a say.

The weird mood clings to you through the afternoon and into the evening. Of course it’s a Sunday, which means you’ve burned through the last of your weekend being mad at a friend over nothing. You could keep moping, or you could try to get out of it. You pick door number two and head out to the back porch with Phantom.

You didn’t pay much attention to the yard when you bought the house. You were more interested in the bigger stuff, like making sure it wasn’t haunted or cursed. But the yard is – nice. Or it will be nice, once you get your shit together and start pulling weeds. You got rid of anything that might make Phantom sick, but you’ve let everything else run wild, and the blackberry bushes along the border to the wetlands grow so high you can’t even see the fence. You did check and make sure there was a fence, of course. Phantom is pretty docile, but it’s hard to trust the judgment of a dog who chews on her own feet and sleeps upside down.

She looks like she’s having fun, though. She’s doing that thing dogs do, where they clearly want to take off at high speed but can’t decide which direction to go. Maybe you should help her out. You pick up her ball out of her toybox and wave it to get her attention. “Come on, Phantom! Go get it! Get your ball!”

She starts running before you’ve even thrown it, and you call her back, laughing. “Come here, you. I’ve still got it. Wait –”

She prances in place, ears pricked and tail wagging. “Wait – okay, go! Go get it!”

You chuck the ball and she takes off after it at full speed, catching it on the run and depositing it back at your feet covered in grass and slime. You remind yourself that slime is part of having a dog. You pick it up and throw it again, and again. On the third throw, Phantom stops mid-chase and freezes in the middle of the yard.

You’ve never seen her do that before. “Phantom,” you say, but she doesn’t turn. “Phantom, leave it. Come here.”

She doesn’t move. She whines, cowers, wiggles a few steps backwards – and then the biggest coyote you’ve ever seen springs out of the darkness, jaws wide open and ready to close on Phantom’s throat.

Phantom turns and bolts, but she’s not fast enough. Its jaws close on her hind leg and she howls. “No,” you shout, your voice somehow strident and shrill at the same time. You pick up the nearest thing you can find – your phone, totally useless – and bounce it off the coyote’s head. It snarls and lets go of Phantom, who limps back to your side, making the worst sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. You can’t help but try to calm her, even as the coyote prowls closer, even as you watch your dog’s blood drip from its teeth. “Sweet baby. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

The coyote’s going to bite you. You’re going to live with that. But while it’s biting you, you can hurt it as much as possible. You’re bigger. You have body weight and hands and a dog you have to protect, and so what if the fucker looks absolutely rabid? There’s a shot for that. They can probably give it to you at the emergency vet when you take Phantom in. The coyote sinks into a crouch, preparing to lunge. You get your feet under you and try to calm the racing of your heart. The coyote snarls, leaps, and –

And. You don’t know how to process what you’re seeing, so you’re stuck on and. And the coyote is poised in midair, thrashing and snarling at something that’s holding it in place with all four of its paws off the ground. And it stays suspended there just long enough for you to blink a few times, for you to realize that what you’re looking at is real. And then its neck breaks with a hideous snap, so hard that its head is nearly torn off, and its body drops to the ground at your feet.

You stagger back, almost tripping on Phantom – and then you scoop her up in your arms, even though she’s not anywhere close to being carryable long-term. It’s the only way to be safe as you back up the porch stairs, as you both collapse just in front of the back door. Something just happened. Your dog’s leg is bleeding and your heart is pounding and something just happened. What was it?

Something broke the coyote’s neck. That didn’t just happen on its own. Something killed the coyote, fast and brutal but not fast enough that you didn’t see fear flash in its eyes when it realized there was no way out. It wasn’t another animal that did that, and there was nobody in your yard but you. This isn’t the kind of thing that happens when you move into a nice, normal house. This is the kind of thing that happens when your house is haunted. And whatever’s haunting your house can snap necks with its bare hands.

But not your neck, you realize. Not your neck, and not Phantom’s. Whatever’s haunting your house can kill things, but it hasn’t killed you or your dog, in spite of having all kinds of opportunities to do so. In fact, this is the first time anything haunted has happened in your house at all, and it paid off for you, big-time. Maybe whatever’s in your house is –

Friendly is not a word you’re going to use when there’s a sort of mutilated, completely dead body in your yard. But you think you can safely call whatever it is ‘not hostile’, at least not to you. And if it’s not being hostile to you, you should be friendly in response. “I don’t know who did that,” you say to your empty yard. “But whoever it was, thank you.”

You don’t wait for a response. Your dog is hurt, and you have to get her to the vet, and for the rest of the night you don’t think about what happened at all. But the next morning, when you go out to chuck the dead coyote over the fence and patch up whatever hole it got in through, the coyote is gone. The only evidence that anything happened at all are a few drops of Phantom’s blood dried on the ground, and a spot of dry, dead grass that was definitely alive last night.

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it, and when you talked to the previous owner, it’s not like he didn’t warn you. But what he warned you about isn’t quite what’s happening to you. The previous owner, a perfectly nice guy named Shirakumo, told you that he spent his entire three weeks here feeling like he was under a microscope. Like it was trying to make up its mind about me, he said. I decided I didn’t want to be here when it figured it out.

You’re pretty sure whatever’s in the house has made up its mind about you. At least enough to decide that between you and the coyote, it would rather keep you around. So unlike Shirakumo, you don’t feel like you’re being watched. You just feel like you’re not alone.

It’s a weird distinction, but it’s undeniably there. There’s something in here with you, something unseen, and if it was watching you, you’d know. It isn’t watching you. It’s doing whatever things it does, and you’re doing the kind of things you do, just coexisting side by side in your new house. It’s there when you leave and it’s there when you come home, just like Phantom is, and Phantom doesn’t seem to mind it. More than a few times, you’ve caught her play-bowing and wagging her tail at empty space. If she was nervous about it, you’d be nervous, too – but dogs always know when a house is haunted in horror movies, and Phantom’s not acting scared. But your house is still haunted. Maybe it’s just not haunted like that.

You tell yourself to just live with it, but it starts getting weird after a little while. If someone was here in person, you’d talk to them, include them in the silly questions you ask Phantom about whether the two of you should get takeout for dinner instead of cooking and whether or not she is in fact the bestest girl in the whole wide world. Maybe the thing in the house is waiting for you to talk to it, and getting upset that you’re not. This is a good time for you to remind yourself, like you do every so often, that the thing in your house isn’t friendly just because it’s not hostile to you, and it can still snap necks with its bare hands. It’s in your best interest to keep it – not hostile.

You keep telling yourself to talk to it, and you keep chickening out for a whole week and a half. Then you’re in the middle of emptying the dishwasher and hit your head on an open cabinet door hard enough that you see stars. Then you stumble backwards and land flat on your ass on the kitchen tiles. “Fuck,” you say, with feeling, and Phantom comes running. “Sorry, sweetie. I’m fine. I’m just a dumbass.”

You’re conscious of the thing in your house, of the fact that it’s here, just like always. It’s not watching you, but if it was, what would it say about this little scene? A response flies into your head, and you say it before you can think of whether or not it’s the smart thing to do. “Yeah, keep laughing. The first time this happens to you I’m going to laugh my ass off.”

There’s no response, but you weren’t expecting one. You should probably have made your opening statement to the ghost a little friendlier. But your neck hasn’t snapped yet, so you pick yourself up off the floor, close the cabinet so you won’t hit your head again and kick off round two of this embarrassment, and get back to work.

Attempt one on talking to the ghost was a failure, but you have a rule about trying things at least three times before you give up, so you try again. This time you come home from work, greet Phantom like always, and then slowly, deliberately turn to face the totally empty patch of air in the hallway. “Hi,” you say. “I’m home.”

Nothing then, either, and if you’d started the sentence with “honey” instead of “hi” you’d have sounded exactly like your dad. You’ve always thought that the way characters in movies deal with their haunted houses is cringe. Yours is a different kind of cringe. Possibly a worse kind of cringe. But when you turn away from the empty air, your neck stays unbroken, and that sense of company, of presence, doesn’t fade. If nothing else, you’re not pissing it off.

To be clear, you don’t talk to your house all the time. You don’t feel like talking all the time. But when you do, you start speaking out loud, and soon it becomes a habit. It might be an embarrassing habit, but it’s not the worst thing in the world. And talking to it instead of tiptoeing around it makes you feel a little better about the situation. Less like you’re being haunted. More like you’re at home.

Your coworkers find out that you moved after two months. You’re not sure how, because you definitely didn’t tell them, but you did have to tell HR to start sending your pay stubs to a new address. Somebody there must have spilled the beans, and as pissed as you are, there’s nothing you can do about it now. Just like there’s nothing you can do about the fact that half your coworkers have invited themselves over for an impromptu housewarming party. Tonight.

“This is stupid,” you complain as you wipe down every flat surface on the first floor, trying to get as much of the ever-present dust up as possible. “I see them enough at work. The whole point of working is so I can afford to spend time not at work.”

Phantom huffs a little bit. She’s mostly friendly, but big groups bother her, especially big groups with too many loud guys. “I would never just invite myself over to someone’s house,” you continue. Back in the day you’d have called a friend to complain. Now you just do it out loud. “How the hell am I going to get them to leave? They’re not going to want to leave. This place is perfect.”

You pause for a second, transfixed with horror at the idea of having to kick your coworkers out. “This sucks. Think it’s too l ate for me to fake my own death?” As soon as you say that, you wish you hadn’t. You don’t want the thing in your house to offer to help. “I can’t do that. If I don’t have a job, I don’t have a mortgage payment, and I need a mortgage payment so I can keep my house.”

You finish dusting, then dig out a baby gate from when Phantom was still potty-training and prop it across the stairs. You don’t want anybody thinking it’s okay to go upstairs. The doorbell rings just as you’re straightening up. Coworkers. You grit your teeth, then paste on a smile and go to open the front door. “Hi. Go ahead and invite yourselves in.”

If you’re going to be fair to your coworkers – and you feel like you have to be, because otherwise you might kill them and wind up with a whole bunch of ghosts haunting your house – not all of them are bad. They don’t have to be bad for you to not want them in your house. Most of them just have irritating habits, like clearing their throats on every other word or laughing too loudly at their own bad jokes. There’s only one or two you really don’t like – they pick on your clothes and the way you do your hair, or steal tea bags from the secret stash you keep in your filing cabinet. Both of them are here, and their presence puts you in an even worse mood than you already were.

The only person you’d actually hang out with after work is Mr. Yagi, but he’s your direct supervisor and also sort of old, which means you can’t be friends with him. He’s here, too, and he seems like he’s trying to rein everybody in. You see him stop one of your coworkers from hopping the baby gate and going upstairs and give him a grateful look. He smiles back. Then he startles, coughs into his handkerchief, and stumbles back against the wall.

You start towards him, concerned, but midway there someone slings an arm around your shoulders and stops you in your tracks. “Honey,” Nakayama slurs, flopping most of her weight onto you, “your house’s vibes are fuck awful.”

You didn’t provide alcohol, but it looks like your coworkers brought their own. You shrug her arm off. “Wow. I’m so glad I asked your opinion when I asked you to come over.”

“You didn’t ask,” Nakayama says, confused. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for the penny to drop. It doesn’t drop. Instead a full-body shiver overtakes her, and she wraps her arms around herself like she’s shielding her body from something or trying to keep warm. “Don’t you feel that? It’s – male – male-eh –”

She thinks your ghost is a man. You’re not even sure your ghost is a ghost. “Malevolent,” she says finally. Oh. “It doesn’t want me here.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t want you here,” you say, and Nakayama laughs. She thinks you’re joking. Mr. Yagi, who’s snuck up alongside you, knows you aren’t. “If the vibes in here are so bad, go check out the back porch. I fixed the hole in the fence, so there shouldn’t be any more coyotes.”

“Coyotes?” Mr. Yagi asks worriedly as Nakayama wanders off through the house. “Is that how Phantom was hurt?”

“Yeah.” You were worried the incident would put Phantom off the backyard, but she loves it just as much as ever. You have a feeling that’s got something to do with the thing in the house. “Like I said, I fixed the hole. What do you think of the house?”

You haven’t asked that question of anybody else, but Mr. Yagi’s opinion is one you’re interested in. “It’s quite – nice,” he says. “Very – lively.”

The pauses in his speech make you wonder if he’s holding in a coughing fit. He has some kind of lung illness. You’re not sure what it is. “Are you okay?”

“Your house.” Mr. Yagi coughs. “I can see why you purchased it. I can see that you feel comfortable and at home here. And at the same time, I understand Miss Nakayama’s use of the word “malevolent”. Something does not want us here.”

“Maybe it’s just me. I didn’t exactly invite people over.”

“I’m very familiar with your demeanor when dealing with a situation you don’t like,” Mr. Yagi says, and chuckles. He sobers up a few seconds later. “This darkness is orders beyond what you could emit. I don’t know how you live with it. It could drive a person mad.”

If this was somebody else, you’d gaslight the hell out of them. But you like Mr. Yagi, and liking him makes you honest. “I talked to people who’ve owned this place before. They said they felt like you do, or like they’re being watched. But I’ve never felt like that here. Watched over, maybe.”

“Watched over?”

You can’t tell him about the coyote. You just – can’t. “Maybe I’m imagining it and I just like the quiet. I believe you about the vibes. I just don’t feel them.”

“I see,” Mr. Yagi says. He looks troubled. You don’t want him to look like that. You don’t want to be worried about this. “Perhaps it’s just an old man’s musings, my dear. You have a lovely home. You should enjoy it.”

There’s a shriek from outside, and you barely manage to mumble an apology to Mr. Yagi before running to investigate. One of your coworkers is freaking out on the back porch, and frantically stubbing out a cigarette in the bargain. You’ve been patient, but the sight of the cigarette pushes you over the edge. “I thought I told you not to smoke here!”

“There was a thing!” Todoroki gestures frantically towards the other end of the porch. “I saw it. Right there. In the smoke –”

“Use your words,” you say. Something’s uncurling in the pit of your stomach, something you’re not all that eager to put a name on. “What did you see in the smoke of the cigarette you weren’t supposed to light up on my back porch?”

“A hand,” Todoroki says. “I saw a hand reaching for me.”

“Maybe it’s your guilty conscience,” you say. Todoroki is close enough that you can smell alcohol mixed in with the smoke on his breath. “Coming after you for inviting yourself to my house and breaking my rules.”

“Your rules are a little strict.” Nakayama slings her arm around your shoulders again. “Don’t you think?”

“No,” you say, sharper than you should be. “I think you don’t know how to listen!”

“Easy there.” Mr. Yagi slides into the conversation sideways. “Todoroki, our hostess did request no smoking. Very politely. And Nakayama, I’m sure you know that hosting an event can be stressful! Let’s go inside and give our hostess a moment to herself, all right?”

Mr. Yagi is hard to say no to, and Todoroki is eager to get off the porch anyway. Nakayama follows him in, and then you’re alone, seething with an emotion you’re finally forced to name: Jealousy. “Come on,” you say out loud, once you’re sure no one else could possibly be listening. “Of all the people you could show yourself to, you picked him?”

There’s no answer, of course. There never is, and after a while, you’ve got no choice but to go back inside and deal with all your mostly-unwanted guests. The bad vibes are infecting the rest of the party, and Todoroki isn’t being shy about whatever he thinks he saw on the porch. Pretty soon everyone is ready to leave. You think Mr. Yagi will be out the door along with everybody else at high speed, but instead he gathers everybody just inside the door for a group picture. “To commemorate the evening,” he says, but you get the sense he’s not telling the truth. Not all of it, anyway. “Everyone smile!”

Everybody smiles, you included – and then everybody scatters, including a few who are probably too tipsy to be driving. You chase after them, make sure everybody who’s drunk is riding home rather than driving themselves, and slink back inside, tired and frustrated. Your house is messier than you like it, your boss thinks you’re living in some kind of hell dimension, and the thing in your house showed itself to one of your dumbass coworkers and not to you. This evening has sucked.

Your phone pings with a message from Mr. Yagi. He’s texted you the photo he took of the group without comment, and when you see it, you see instantly why he wanted a picture in the first place. There are your coworkers, smiling with varying degrees of discomfort. There’s you, smiling because you’ll have the house to yourself again soon. And there’s the shapeless shadow, defying the light beaming directly onto it, hovering just over your shoulder.

There’s something in your house. You know that now for sure. It shows up as a shadow in pictures, but Todoroki saw it as a hand. Other people feel very differently about it than you do – or it makes them feel differently about it than you do. That’s the only explanation you can think of for why every person who’s set foot in the house has had a borderline allergic reaction to it, except you. There’s nothing special about you. For whatever reason, the thing in the house hates you less than it hates everybody else. Why? And why, if it hates you less than everybody else, did it show itself to Todoroki instead of you?

You’ve been thinking about it for a week. You’re thinking about it so hard that you’ve fucked up installing your front porch swing twice, and so hard that you don’t hear a kid calling out to you from the sidewalk. “Hey! Hey, you! Are you the new neighbor?”

The question snaps you out of your fog. You look up and find a girl who looks like she’s about twelve hovering at the end of the path leading up to your door, taking tentative steps over and then pulling her foot back. She’s holding a foil-covered plate in her hands. Behind her there’s an older guy, maybe in his late teens or early twenties. You’re older than him, but not by much. “Hi,” he says awkwardly. “I told Himiko not to shout. But shouting is so fun!”

His demeanor shifted completely between the first sentence and the second. “You’re Himiko,” you say to the girl, and she grins. Even from this distance, you can see that her teeth are oddly sharp. You turn to the older guy. “And you are?”

“This is my big brother Jin!” Himiko gives him a glowing look, then turns her attention back to you. “Now you tell me your name! That’s what people do!”

“It sure is,” you say, bewildered, and you make your introduction. Then you feel weird shouting at them from the porch, so you make your way down to the edge of the yard, still holding a screwdriver. “So you all are my neighbors?”

“Yes! The pink house just that way!” Himiko points it out. “We live there with Jin’s mom and his brothers and sisters!”

“Sorry it took us so long to introduce ourselves,” Jin says. Then that demeanor switch happens again. “We didn’t want to grace you with our presence until we were sure you wouldn’t cut and run!”

“Everybody leaves,” Himiko says, swinging on your front gate. “We made you cookies to say hi!”

“They’re the best cookies in the world,” Jin says, and Himiko sneaks in past the gate. “Don’t eat them. She still doesn’t know how taste buds work.”

That might be the weirdest thing they’ve said to you so far. “Oh.”

“Himiko, come back,” Jin calls, looking past you. “They didn’t invite us in.”

“I know! But – ooh.” Himiko breaks off midsentence with a shiver. Not the same kind of shiver as you saw from Nakayama when she was here, like it’s too cold – the kind you’d do if a spider walked across the back of your neck. “I just want to meet you! Jeez, calm down!”

“I’m calm,” you say.

“She doesn’t mean you,” Jin says, and a chill runs down your spine. “Himiko, come back!”

Himiko skips down the path back to the gate and steps through. “You should come visit us at our house,” she announces. “He doesn’t want us here.”

He. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t like to share,” Himiko says. She laughs, high and almost shrill. “I don’t need more people. I have as many people as I want! I have Jin and Jin’s mom and Jin’s sister and Jin’s brother –”

She’s not talking to you. She’s looking back at the house. “Who’s he?” you ask, and she smiles at you. “I’m not joking. I really want to know.”

“You know,” Himiko says. “Or you will, anyway. You’re his.”

“Excuse me?” Something inside you rebels at the thought. “It’s my house.”

“Yeah,” Jin agrees. Finally – a voice of reason. Or not, because what he says next makes everything worse. “You wouldn’t have kept it if he hadn’t let you.”

Himiko nods importantly, still smiling. Then she looks at you, and – “Um, did you just –”

“Just what?” Himiko asks, but you shake your head. There’s no way you saw what you think you saw. There’s no way her pupils closed vertically, almost disappearing, and opened again – like a blink, but not a blink, because eyes aren’t supposed to do that. “Come visit us, then! Everybody in the neighborhood wants to meet you!”

She pushes the plate of cookies into your hands and goes skipping off down the sidewalk. Jin gives an apologetic shrug, followed by a hyperenthusiastic wave goodbye, and follows her, leaving you standing just inside your front gate with a plate of cookies you’re now eighty percent sure are poisoned and even less of an idea about what’s going on than you had before. You decide, with a skill at compartmentalization that you’ve been honing since you moved in, to table it until you’ve set up your porch swing.

But after the swing’s up, you’re hungry. So hungry, in fact, that you pry up the foil on the plate and take a look at the cookies Jin and Himiko brought over. They look suspect. So suspect that you wouldn’t risk eating them unless you were starving, and even then you might try chewing off your own arm first. It’s too bad. You really could have gone for a cookie right about now.

But you’re an adult, and you have your own house, and a decent amount of ingredients in your pantry. Maybe cookies aren’t as out of reach as you thought they were.

One quick shower later, you’re in the kitchen, measuring out ingredients for your favorite cookie recipe. Back in the day you’d play music, or call somebody. Now you either talk to Phantom, talk to the thing in the house, or both. But Phantom is napping on the tiles on the front hall – her favorite spot on hot days, even though you have air conditioning and you like to use it. That’s a good thing. You and the thing in your house need to have a talk.

“You’ve got an attitude problem, huh?” Your opening lines with the thing in your house are never as polite as they probably should be. “I’m fine with you scaring my coworkers. I’m pretty sure I thanked you for that one. But those were my neighbors. I have to live with them. Or near them. And they seemed – nice.”

It gets quiet after that. Sometimes you can use the silence to convince yourself that the ghost is answering, just not in a way you’re able to hear. Sometimes you even imagine what the ghost is saying. Today is one of those days. “Okay, fine. They were weird. I still have to live with them.” But you have to live with the ghost, too, and the ghost apparently has some weird ideas about what’s going on here. “And while we’re talking about it, what’s this possessive shit? You think you own me? You’ve talked more to my twelve-year-old neighbor than you have to me, so you’ve got a lot of nerve talking about me like I belong to you.”

You’ve got no idea what the ghost would say in response to that, and you have to get out your dry ingredients. You head to the pantry and dig out what’s left of your flour, noting that you’ve got a new bag waiting, and go back to the counter. Except something happens to you midway there. You step into a cold spot, colder than anything you’ve ever felt in your life, and your hands go nerveless and numb like you’ve been flash-frozen. The bag of flour drops from your hands and splits open on the floor, letting up a puff of flour that climbs high into the air like a mushroom cloud. Higher than it should. But that’s not what you’re looking at. You’re looking at the two clean spots on the flour-coated floor, directly in front of you. Two clean spots in the shape of a pair of feet.

They’re not children’s footprints. Whatever’s in your house isn’t a child like Himiko – it’s an adult, like you, and it’s standing really close to you. Your eyes are drawn almost inexorably upwards through the already-dissipating cloud of flour. You’re looking too late. You almost miss it. But before the flour falls completely back to the floor, you see the outline of a torso, the slope of a shoulder. The length of an arm. And the shape of one hand, thumb and forefinger poised to flick against your forehead.

You react before you can think about it. “What are you, twelve?” You wave your hand through the air, trying to dissipate the rest of the cloud, resolutely ignoring the way you obliterate the shoulder, the torso. “Learn some manners.”

The cloud vanishes, and the figure with it. You could almost believe it had never happened at all, except for the pair of clean footprints on your otherwise flour-covered floor.

What if we could lay an egg with narinder ?

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

Give Your Heart a Break - Chapter 3: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader series

Notes: This series is going to be released slowly due to my workload from school and jobs. That said, it may be sloppy and inconsistent. I will try my best to make it all mesh together! I reread Chapter 2 and will admit it was weak, but I was kind of just trying to gear up for them to meet in person.

ALSO! I am going to try to include songs that inspire my fics at the top of them! I hope it helps convey the mood of my stories.

Summary: Tomura and the reader finally meet in person after their discord call from last chapter.

Warnings: 18+ content (minors don't interact), shigaraki has a psychotic disorder and his voices act up violently when he's stressed, substance use (weed), POV swings, repressed Tenko Shimura themes, Dabi shows up but doesn't do much, long chapter, reader and Tomura are moving fast tbh, not fully proofread

Notes About the Reader:

anything from ch 1 and 2 applies here

she's a stoner

reader is actually hella shy

autistic coded

she has an interesting quirk<3

reader is the child of people who use substances, but she herself doesn't use anything past the holy trinity of "okay" substances: alcohol, weed, and nicotine

she's a virgin

Shigaraki was about to jump out of his skin. He could see your silhouette through your window as he stood outside your house. Even through the window, he could see how curvy you were. It made his mouth water. Fuck, you aren't even out the door and he's already being a pervert.

He was so anxious yet very excited. He was confident that you somewhat liked him, too. You wouldn't have agreed to come out with him at almost midnight if you didn't. His mission tonight was to be as not-scary as he could be, which he didn't think he'd ever want to do.

The sound of your front door opening made his heart pound viciously, and he stood where he was across the road with a shit-eating grin on his face and a fruit punch rockstar (pinky up!). You looked at him with a blushy smile and began stepping close to him, stomping heavily in your platform-heeled black boots. When you got up close to him, he couldn't help but laugh softly when he realized that you were still so short even with the shoes, though you didn't seem to pick up on his laughter.

"Hey," Tomura said with a crack in his voice, as if his voice couldn't get any more raspy.

"Heyy," you replied nervously, but forcing a smile.

"Howyadoing?"

"I had a long day at work before we started talking."

"Sounds like shit. I got you this," he looked at you like an excited puppy and held you the energy drink. "This is the kind you like, right?"

"Yeah," you smile kindly, taking the can. "Thank you for getting this."

"Of course, hehe. Have you been dressed like that all day?"

"No, I only got dressed like, 20 minutes ago?"

"You look pretty," Tomura smiled, looking visibly turned on by your fitting clothes, though he tried very hard to keep eye contact. He noticed you look down at yourself briefly whenever he snuck a look and you were clearly uncomfortable. Fuck, that's the last thing he wanted. Has he already fucked this up?

You fucking monster

Take her

Tomura began itching his neck in frustration, though he took a deep inhale through his nose and tried to pay attention to you instead.

"Whatcha wanna do?" He asked, huffing out his words anxiously.

"I don't know. To be honest, I don't hang out with people often," she shared.

"That's good, it means you realize how shitty most people are, right?" he laughs.

"Yea, that's true. I'm also new around here."

"It's my pleasure to be your new best friend, then," Shigaraki chuckled. "Or no?"

"You move fast."

"What's moving, exactly?" He retorted with a cocky face.

damn,,

Your laughter was like bubbles popping to him when he heard you giggle in response. He's got you, he knows it. You kept holding your head down at your feet, a habit Tomura noticed while you were talking. It frustrated him because he wanted to see your pretty face and the spooky makeup you put on it.

On the other hand, he understood what it was like to not want to flaunt your face. If you didn't happen to be a normal civilian he would've shown up with father on his face and maybe some of the others. Instead, he wore a hoodie, though his hood was up. He hardly ever left it down in public.

Now that he thought of it, he remembered you saying you liked his hair. Tomura let his hoodie down, falling to his shoulders and exposing his dry, tangled blue hair. Your face froze as you admired his baby-blue pigment. You also began to take in his ruby-red eyes and dehydrated appearance, with scars on his neck and face. He looked like a beaten-up kitten and a strange part of you instantly wanted to take care of him.

Shigaraki took your appearance in as well because now he could properly see your face. You looked at him with curious eyes, perky and alert. At the top of your shoulder, though, he saw what looked like an animated red heart beside you. Then it faded away.

Was he hallucinating again?

He shook the thought off and started noticing your face, instead. Your black eyeliner smudged your eyes, making them look intimidating, though to him you were no threat whatsoever. He admired your lips, as well. They looked softer than his, and he wondered how they'd feel. Even at 20, he had never kissed anyone. He had gotten one blowjob, but it was a hooker that he had paid for, and he couldn't shake the thought that the one sucking his cock was only doing it for money. Not that there was anything wrong with that at all, Tomura was just more romantic than he thought. They never kissed, and it felt empty for him.

"We could just take a walk," y/n suggested. He noticed your face back down facing your feet.

"Do you want to come to my place?" Tomura suggested back. Though bringing you around his roommates might be a challenge. You're cute.

He saw your hesitant face, a little offended by your quick distrust, at least from what he could tell. "I promise, I don't bite." Oh, the irony. The only thing roaming around in your head was what his intentions were. Tomura didn't exactly know himself.

"Where's your place? I'm not sure if I can stay the night."

"When did I say you could?" He retorted sarcastically.

"Oh, sorry."

"I'm teasing. I live about a 15 minute walk from here, is that okay?"

"Yea."

On your way to his place, you took in the fresh air and calming night scenery. There was a strange nostalgic feeling, though for no particular reason that you could think of. There were moments between you two when you wouldn't talk at all, but when you did, you came to notice that Tenko was a geeky, yet feisty guy. He had an interest in games, and had admitted to playing League of Legends, DOOM, some shit on the Switch, and occasionally GTA but he said that "the fun stopped years ago."

The two of you fumbled a bit, more you than him. Your socially awkward composure made it hard for you to not be jittery, but he seemed like a harmless guy thus far (haha, you had no idea). He was awkward, too, but had more guts to speak up.

Tomura would discover how truly shy you were. Your body shook when you talked, and your voice cracked in sheepish fear (he knew well what that looked like). He could tell you were socially anxious and that it probably wasn't just because he was scary, but he had a deep feeling that you thought he was. However, when he managed to get you to talk, you were quite funny and unique. It was cute to him, freakily enough, turning him on a little. He's had a semi for a bit, but the hoodie covered his crotch, thankfully.

His libido got the best of him sometimes, because the ass on you was a distraction. You were walking a little in front of him, so he could get a look without feeling like too much of a pervert. You looked cozy and huggable.

"fuck," Shigaraki thought abruptly.

He thankfully had a pair of gloves from Dr. Ujiko, ones that combated his quirk. He only really used them when he was sleeping or when he couldn't possibly avoid disintegrating something. He'd been careless, not even realizing how his quirk could easily fuck this up until now. Maybe he was being a bit entitled to already think that you'll automatically let him get close enough to touch you.

Still, explaining his quirk to you was going to be interesting. It would probably break his heart if you didn't want him, fuck, even want to be friends with him because of his quirk.

grab her, she is yours

Tomura ignored his aggravating voices and you and him continued to walk, laugh together, and drink your energy drinks like punkass kids. You finally came up on an apartment complex. It looked run down from the outside, most of the nearby apartments did, too.

His place was a few floors up. As soon as Tenko opened the doors, there was a whiff of a musky, dusty smell. A linger of cigarette smoke, maybe a little weed. For you, there was some level of familiarity with the smell because of your upbringing. The time was about 12:11am, so the apartment wasn't loud, although there was a faint sound of rap music playing in someone's room, and they were clearly smoking, based on how fresh the odor was.

"So, let me address this now," Tenko began. "Are you comfortable being in my room?"

You cocked an eyebrow.

"I mean, like, I know it's awkward being in a guy's room. We can hang out in the living room, if ya want," he pressed his lips together, sort of wishing you said yes to his room.

"Can we hang out-out here?"

"Nooo," Tomura thought internally.

"Aight," he said aloud.

Tomura plopped down on the couch, looking in your direction to indicate that you could sit there too. You sat some space away from him, making him a bit sad.

Shigaraki had never had a girl in his place before, not one that wasn't Toga or Magne. Not one he wanted. He was kind of nervous, but excited! He saw this as a good opportunity to try to get to know you, and maybe rizz you up a lil. Though, he'd never done that to anyone who wasn't a person on Discord, so he wasn't sure how to establish a bond.

Honestly, he was taking a bit of a chance with you. You didn't really do much to impress him yet, but your warmness to him made him feel important. In a different way than being his master's successor.

"Do you want to play video games? That's kind of the only thing we have to do here. And smoke weed, but I don't know if you do drugs."

"That's kind of an intense way to refer to weed," you comment.

"Then you smoke?"

"Yea."

"Awesome. Let me grab some shit and we can smoke. Maybe game at the same time??"

You laugh softly, "sure, sounds fun."

He could see a restless tremor in you, though, he felt that you liked him. That you enjoyed him, thus far. You were probably just shy because you had a crush on him :)

You had taken note at his neck when Tenko took off his hoodie, noticing how slender he was under it. You only saw him with his sweatshirt on so far. He was kind of...sexy? Your body radiated a few small hearts, dark red in color. Tenko was already out of the room before he could see, you thanked.

Little did Tenko know, you were also an inexperienced person when it came to girl and guy interaction. You were attracted to him, definitely. You were a virgin, though, and were worried to get too close to the "wrong person." You didn't know much about him yet. You sat patiently in the living room, tired from the day behind you. Thanks to Tenko, you now had caffeine, helping you fight the eepy.

It didn't take Tenko long before he reemerged with a pipe and a bag of pot. You got an instant waff of the flower when he opened the bag and took some out. He sat down, close beside you. You were a little nervous and startled, but you now got to smell his scent. He was a little smelly, but in a way that you hadn't known before. It was masculine and acted as pheromones for you right now.

Your hearts started popping out, this time colored a tangerine orange shade.

Tenko swung his head in your direction, instantly seeing them. He squinted at you and looked confused. You recalled that he heard voices, so maybe he thought that he was seeing things. You averted eye contact very quick and started mumbling.

"Uh..I'm sorry.."

"Huh?"

"Oh..um..tch..."

"Huh? I can't hear you."

"My quirk."

Tenko began picking out the stems in the weed, and you noticed he was wearing black gloves, but they were only covering he ring finger, pinky, and thumbs. You hadn't seen them on him before. Did he have a germ phobia? He didn't smell like he did.

He turned to face you every now and then, "I'm listening."

"I..uh.."

"You sure stutter a lot."

"Yea, I do."

"Are..the hearts your quirk? Or am I seeing things. In that case, this must be confusing as fuck to hear. Sorry."

"No! It's okay. No, you're not seeing things."

"Huh..What does it mea-."

Separate foot steps came up to the living room. You and Tenko looked up to see an average height man with black hair and burn marks all over him, staples keeping himself in place. He had piercings on his ears and his nose, and he had a cocky demeanor to him. You recognized this guy, you thought, but were having trouble thinking where from.

"You smoking?" He drawn out in a tired yawn.

"Uh..yea," Tomura replied.

"Who's this?" Dabi said, eyeing you down. Tomura had a millisecond instinct of possession. If Dabi swooned you, which wouldn't be a surprise, he'd be very pissed. Furious, even. He shot Dabi a look of "don't try anything," and Dabi knew full well what his face was telling him.

"I'm y/n," you said.

"Ah. I've never seen you. Are you and Shigaraki together?"

Tomura froze.

Not this quick, he thought. He thought he could pull some Aladdin shit and roll with a fake identity for a bit.

You furrowed your brows and now it was coming together on your end.

DABI YOU FUCKING IDIOT he thought, starting to panic internally.

K-kill he-

"Jesuss..." Tomura groaned, trying to drown out his voices. He held his hands at the back of his neck and leaned back.

Fuck

Fuck

Destroy her, destroy, kill

The League of Villains were infamous, of course you knew the name "Shigaraki." The most wanted criminal around and notorious for rather..inhumane crimes. You tried telling yourself that he could be a different Shigaraki, but you now figured out the guy with patches on himself. Dabi, who stood out like a sore thumb in the photos that were taken of their gang. Shigaraki did, too. But he had a dead hand on his face whenever you saw pictures, so you didn't recognize him.

Tomura could sense your own panic from planets away. He saw you trembling, and he was trying to come up with a quick lie in his head, but you were already speaking.

"Are you Dabi?" you said in a neutral tone.

"Yeuh. How'd you know?"

"Uh.Ten...Tomura?" you said his name as if you were asking him a question, but continued. "He's talked about you."

He was confused now. Were you playing along? The fuck? Or did you feel like you had to? You could've felt in danger, he considered.

"Good things, I hope," Dabi slurred.

Tomura wanted to question you, but didn't want to cause tension about the fact that you now both knew he was manipulating you into thinking he was some ordinary guy. He also didn't want to have this conversation around Dabi. You didn't say anything else.

Dabi crouched on the floor. "Give me some."

"Invite Spinner, too, I don't want to look at only your ugly face."

"He's sleeping. Don't you have eye candy next to you?"

Oh right. He thinks you and Tomura are dating. And he called you "eye candy." So many angry thoughts were racing through Tomura's head. You were probably terrified right now, and he knew this whole situation was fucked. He had no idea what to say.

But he tried, turning to you shamefully and mumbled out, "do you still wanna smoke?"

You paused, unsure what the answer should be. You should be trying to find a way to leave and soon. These guys are...well. The League of Villains. Though, you found yourself agreeing with their mission, even if murder, abducting a high schooler, and assaulting people weren't anything you necessarily felt comfortable with.

Tenko- or Tomura, had made you feel seen up to this point. You didn't feel that way, ever. He took interest in you while also wanting to listen to you. You shared interests, and personality traits even if yours were more sheltered away. When you knew someone closely, you were talkative and feisty, too. You felt understood, somehow. And maybe that shouldn't excuse him being a horrible person, but your need for validation and attention took over you.

"Light that shit up," you declared.

Your hearts fluttered rapidly, and Dabi raised an eyebrow. He didn't care to ask anything, figuring it was your quirk. He could tell it was in response to Shigaraki, which was easy to deduce. Tomura started to get it, too.

You saw a smile crack on his face, which was admittedly very cute. He was scary looking, but not to you. He looked run down and scrunkly, with his pale skin and tinted sharp teeth. Itch marks all over him and dry wrinkles at his forehead and eyes. He also had a beauty mark below the edge of his dry lips.

But he looked adorable, and you had a desire to just have him hold you. You knew of his quirk, of course. But you were guessing that his gloves were because of his quirk. He was protecting you.

"Let me try," he said.

Tomura, you and Dabi all passed around the bowl, not saying much. You'd cough viciously, trying to hold it back. Shigaraki saw your eyeliner mess up from the tears you made from coughing. He wanted to snatch you up, absolutely infatuated with your girlish charm.

"You alive?" He asked.

"What strain is this??" You asked with slurred speech and dozed off red eyes.

"Uh, weed. I don't know. Dabi, what's this shit?" He asked, as Dabi usually was the one who acquired the League's stash of pot.

"Probably GMO."

"Probably? If you lace my company I'll knock you out."

You giggled out. Tomura's sense of humor was one of your favorite things about him so far. And maybe you should be scared, but you felt comfortable around him whenever he cracked jokes and smiled at you.

"Jesus, it's not laced. If I wanted to do coke or something, I'd do the actual thing," Dabi joked.

"It's okay. I'm just really stoned," you laughed.

"A lightweight, huh?" Tomura snickered. "It's cuz you're so little."

"Am not."

"You're like, 5 foot nothing."

"I'm (your height)!" You retaliated.

"Uh-huh. I could put you in my pocket, if I wanted. Do you wanna game?"

"Yeaa."

Tomura turned on his console, giving you the option to pick a game. You chose your favorite video game, as it was already owned by Shigaraki. He and Dabi watched you play badly, with Dabi chuckling and Tomura groaning at the sight.

"You'll just steal it from me," you assumed.

"Well, you've tried this mission like 6 times," he pointed out.

"Three."

"Oooo okay smart ass," Tomura said in a flirty tone. "Let me show you then, hm?"

Tomura scooched closer to you, holding his controller with his hands perched on against the top of your thigh. He was trying to show you what moves to play, telling you all his strategies. He was also testing you and paid close attention to how you responded to his close proximity. You had to now know what his quirk was. You didn't pull back from him to his satisfaction, but he was still confused.

"Here, you see how I'm doing this? Now you try."

Every time he talked to you, he had a sort of softness to his voice. A raspy yet nurturing tone, even when you messed up your game repeatedly. And you'd respond with a blushy and embarrassed tone, but obviously swooned by Tomura's charisma.

"So.."y/n started. "You're..not Tenko? Or is that a nickname?"

Dabi could sense the horny from Tomura and got up, not wanting to see this shit. "You two have fun."

Shiggy felt like he could breathe with Dabi leaving. Now he had you all to himself, which might work in his favor. You still seemed uneasy, but at the same time he saw that your body had relaxed more. He was a little shocked, and wondered what the ulterior meaning was for it.

"Uh..jesus," He sighed, cupping his forehead anxiously. "No. No, I'm not. You know who I am, right? I'm sorry."

"I, um. Yea, I think so. I knew who he was, too. You're Tomura Shigaraki?"

"That's meee. Are you gonna leave? Tell someone?" He sad in a worried and sharp voice.

What? No. I won't, it's just, I guess I'm taken aback."

"I couldn't just tell you who I was that quick, d'ya get it? Especially online."

"Yea, I know."

You and him turned and faced each other, both of you breathing hard. Your hearts turned blue, but appeared in slow succession. Tomura cocked a brow, and finally was able to inquire about your quirk now that Dabi was gone.

"What are those hearts about? I have a guess, but.."

"mmmnNN," you grunted in embarrassment. "It's nothing.."

"Liar," he chuckled. "Is it cuz you like me?"

He was taking a bold risk to ask that, but so much was already on the table. Asking you if you wanted him wasn't much more intimidating, unless it added to the mess. His eyes were lidded and he smirked when he questioned you. You could tell he liked you, himself. There was a hint of desire and arousal that you could sense from him, as well.

You blushed a deep rose color and looked away from him. "K-kind of..."

"Mm, and is the Shigaraki thing a dealbreaker?"

"I..I don't want it to be," you smiled, and he saw your eyes shine at him.

"I promise I'll be nice to you," he joked, leaning closer to you.

"I...okay. I trust that, and honestly, I kind of don't care? That you're Shigaraki, that is. Well! Of course I care. But I like you, and you've made me feel like my company is wanted. People see me as weird, and offputting. You don't, at least I don't think. Why me, though? I mean, why do you like me?"

"Uh, cuz you're cute?" wow Tomura. "Shit, that was creepy. Uh, you're nice. Nicer to me than most people, and you like my hair and stuff. You also seem to find me quite funny, yea? You're also unique, and you dress spooky. You're a funny girl, and you play games with me!! I can tell you're an anxious mess, but you seem to want to be around me, and even when you found out about me being who I am, you didn't try to leave or treat me differently. I don't know, I just think you and I would be good together. And what's not to like? You're kind of my dream girl."

You laugh, flustered and feeling undeserving of all the praise. "You don't know me much."

"Can I get to know you, then?"

"I mean..yes..can I get to know you too? I don't know if what I hear on the news is all that you are,"you smiled widely while looking away from him. It pissed him off a little when you'd avoid him. He brought his gloved fingers to hold your jaw, and gently turned you to look at him.

"I can see you better when you look at me," he said in a seductive tone. He stroked the side of your jaw with his thumb while he ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth. The risk of decay scared you, but you trusted the gloves would be okay, and if your quirk did the right thing, you two may not need them soon...The hearts you produced had many colors now, all red, dark red, and white.

He snickered. "Do the different colors mean different things?" Tomura asked.

"Y-yea..The standard color is red, but different colors mean different emotions."

"So," Tomura rang his hand to pet your hair for a brief moment before setting it at your side. Rapid dark red, white, and red hearts continued to flutter out of you. "What do those ones mean?"

You tensed up, knowing full well the meanings, but admitting to two of them was embarrassing. Vulnerable, even. Was this all going too quick? Frankly, the adrenaline and attraction were entirely operating you at the moment.

"Spit it out," he jabbed.

"The red ones..they're standard hearts that say, "I think you're attractive.""

"Thanks. I think I'm ugly as shit, but-"

"You aren't. I think you're very cute, hehehe!!"

"Oh really?" He teased. "Ehah..what do the burgandy colors mean? And..the white ones?"

"Mrnrnjdsn..."

"What?" He laughed, getting the feeling that they had a not-so-innocent meaning to them.

"They, uh..they mean that-that I'm..that I'm turned on."

"urrrnnnnn, I can't say it!!"

Satisfaction grew in Shiggy's eyes, his eyes the color of a scorching fire. He clenched his grin into an excited and relieved expression.

"So I turn you on?"

You nodded your head bashfully.

"And the white ones?" Shigaraki pestered.

"Come on! Out! I wanna know..."he said with a yearn in his voice.

"They, they mean my body is responding. You know..that I'm wet, and that my horny-ness is spiking."

"Cum colored, haha. That's not surprising."

You and Tomura sat in a quiet tension for a bit, and he looked like he was hungry and trying to hunt his prey silently. His lips parted a little, and you saw his tongue run against his teeth as he leaned his face closer to you discreetly. You pressed your lips together tight and tilted your head up slowly, your eyes darting all across Tomura's handsome face and instinctively moved closer, as well. Your body knew exactly what it wanted and what was natural. Tomura became daring, and pressed his lips on yours without much warning, wrapping his lips in between yours.

You instantly hummed, unsure what to do. You moved your lips to dance with his as well as you could, and you started with passionate and sweet kisses. The whole act was uncoordinated, and you both weren't sure how to keep going. He kissed you for a long time, holding your neck while he leaned closer than you thought possible. His smell clouded your thinking, and built your arousal little by little.

He finally pulled away, taking a deep breathe and looked at you with a seduced flushed face. "Do you wanna go to my room now?" He scoffed, knowing his intentions, and you did too. He wanted you. It was fast, but he didn't really care. He just wanted to claim you, and make you his.

"Mhmm," you mumbled in approval.

Taking your hand in his protected ones, he guided you off the couch.

"Lets do that then, yea? I want to get to know you, like we talked about. I gotta know all about you."

Bertayer.

.

.

.

WOOOO ITS DONE!!! This took a really long time to finish but boy was it worth it.

This was %90 for visual so if the lines are corny ,well 😭😭😭😭

How does Shiggy react to a darling who developed Stockholm Syndrome?

BNHA ! IMAGINE

Shigaraki Tomura x darling

WC: 1.5k

TW: NSFW, captive darling, Stockholm Syndrome, ish benevolent sexism

You kissed him a little while back.

It was strange, as though you’d forgotten yourself – lost yourself in the heat of the moment. But no, it had been deliberate and long-lasting – earnest and needy even. And had rendered him both speechless and in a panic.

He’d entered the room in a rigid mood and woken you up with a bite to your ass. Pulling your thighs snugly around him with his cock already swole between them – tugging your panties down your thighs while you were still rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a yawn. 

You’d learned rather quickly never to fight him. He’d punish you with bitemarks and no food, and ultimately you grew too weak to reject him anyway. So your casual acceptance wasn’t anything new where you patiently awaited getting fucked – lying on your back while looking down at his fat member disappearing inside you with only a tiny moan slipping free from your lips.

You took him obediently as you’d done for a while – without protest. The only difference occurred after he’d twisted the two of you around so you could straddle and ride him. You’d pressed your naked breasts into his chest and taken his face in your hands – gently as you rolled your hips without guidance – and then, right before the kiss, you’d said, so very softly, “I missed you today… it’s boring here without you~” 

Your voice was sultry, kissing him tender yet deeply – pouring sweet moans into his mouth while your hands tangled in his hair. 

You’d traveled to his neck after, and he came as soon as your tongue licked the scars found there – digging his fingers into the plush of your hips, keeping you seated as he spluttered all his worth inside you.

He’d been in such a state of post-shock that he’d rushed out just after. Leaving you.

Kurogiri had pointed out his blush while he sat at the bar, mulling it over with a bottle of brown in his grip. He shuddered, recurring the feeling – your pillowy wet lips on his, those words leaving your tongue, your hands playing with his hair, pulling him close. His chest felt tight, just as tight as the furrow between his brows.

Dabi sat down a couple of stools away sometime later in the night. Often, Shigaraki would abstain from engaging in conversation with the guy, but really, at least in this case, he was the best choice of any to ask for input. After all, they weren’t all that different. Actually, when it came to basics, they were both pretty similar – same-aged, ugly, and ridden with family issues from scars to fractured memories.

Dabi gave him a dumb look, his brow raised as though to ask what he was staring at after noticing his side-eye.

“You still have the same girl?” He jumped straight to it.

Dabi’s dumb expression turned dumber. Confused, maybe not so much by the question itself but by why the boss was even talking to him. But most emotions are like matches for Dabi, and they burn out before they’re able to light any fires. Soon, the usual sense of disinterest washed over him, and his face eased up into that chronic jaded look. 

Shigaraki nearly lost patience, reminded once again why he couldn’t stand the guy – rude as ever and so slow it made his skin itch. But then he gave his answer, “Yeah, I still have her.”

“She difficult?” Shigaraki followed up.

And Dabi took his time once again, hauling out the seconds before offering his answer in a drawl. “No, Stockholm Syndrome kicked in quickly.”

Shigaraki let it settle - Stockholm Syndrome – before looking back at his drink and repeating the thought once again. Stockholm Syndrome.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” He mumbled then.

Dabi sighed, taking a swig of his beer. It was already the third one, but he’d only been sitting there for about half an hour. “Not really…” He disagreed. “Most girls are better survivors.”

It was Shigaraki’s turn to look dumb, looking puzzled as he stared down the barrel to his bottle – in wait of an explanation – almost as though he was under the impression it was the drink who was speaking and not the patch-faced raven-head sitting beside him.

“They learn quickly to accept what will keep them safe, and then, they find solace in whatever they can to maintain their mental health as well…” Said raven-haired guy continued – then he scoffed. “Boys fight until they break. Leaving them a shell of what they once were. But girls don’t have the same pride.”

He swirled his bottle, stove-top blue eyes lazy, looking at the last of his drink storm with waves inside the green glass.

“They leave themselves behind and become someone new.” He offered a dry chuckle, and Shigaraki spotted the unsightly way his staples only barely held the split of his smile together. “It’s actually kind of scary.” He finished before downing the last gulp, setting the bottle down with a bang.

He swung off his stool, shoving his hands down his pockets, and walked away – his back turned.

“If I were you, I’d embrace it, boss. Despite what we try to believe, that shit feels best when it’s given willingly.”

Shigaraki sat there a moment longer. Long enough to get cut off by Kurogiri, who told him drinking anymore would be a bad idea.

When he got back to the room, you were sleeping again.

He stood and stared at you for a moment. 

Was this a game you were playing? Was it a joke?

You’d pulled on one of his hoodies. And upon a closer look, you hadn’t showered either… 

Strange of you to leave his cum inside you... 

But thinking back about it, you hadn’t been so distant with him for a while already. You’d been trivial – conversational – even chirpy, if he could call it that.

Was it like Dabi said? Had you reached your breaking point for loneliness, leaving him to be your only resource? Or had you accepted the circumstances and willed yourself to play along? 

He didn’t know, but the doubt stormed an upset in his mind as he lifted the covers and laid down next to you. But despite the exhaustion, the lure of sleep still wasn’t enough to make him close his eyes – he was stuck staring at you, mapping out all those qualities that make up your pretty face.

So deep in his studies, he nearly flinched when your eyes fluttered open.

A small smile graced your lips soon after. “You’re back…” You murmured, eyes softly blinking at him before you scooched closer – shimmying yourself over to him until you were all the way up against his chest, nuzzling your head against his collar with sleepy sounds of comfort. Resting there for a blissful moment before purring out a sweet “Good night~”

But he couldn’t sleep that night. Too busy listening to your soft snores – feeling the clingy way you clutched his cotton T-shirt.

He couldn’t bring himself to touch you either. For a long while – it was as though he was… scared almost. Freaked out by your doting – that way you’d hug him when he entered through the door – placing kisses on places he wasn’t used to – his cheek, his forehead, his neck, his knuckles. 

Grabbing his sleeve. “Don’t go, Tomura…” You said once when he had his hand on the doorknob and the key halfway twisted in the lock. “Please… don’t leave.”

His throat went tight. It had been like that for a while – ever since that first kiss, actually, he’d been unable to talk to you – unsure what to say.

But you hadn’t the same issue.

“You haven't touched me in a while…” You continued, taking his hand away from the doorknob in both yours, playing with his fingers – bringing it up to your face – you cuddled it like he’d not threatened you with his touch many many many times before. “Are you bored with me?” You asked instead of the obvious, keeping him at a loss for words. “Or… have I scared you away?”

You? Scared him?

Your lips brushed his fingers as one of your hands made a slow descent – making him jerk with a gasp as it went straight to cup his groin – tender yet firm, giving it a squeeze.

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay?” You said coyly, eyes doe-like but kittenish all the same, with a pouty and small smirk playing on your lips before you bit into them – brows cinching, giving him a flirty pleading expression. “Please, Tomura?” You said his name as though it didn’t belong to him. “It gets so lonely here…” You kissed his palm. “Won’t you give me a proper goodbye, at least?”

tip-jar: Kofi

Love Spell

Summary: He knows he’s got you hook, line and sinker by the way you bite your lip and make room for him between your legs. It’s so desperate it almost disgusts him.  You are Shigaraki's biggest fan and he wants to break you.  Cw: Tomura shigaraki x female reader, slight yandere reader, shigaraki has a hero kink, mean shigaraki, degradation, choking, spit kink, dumbification, pro hero reader, traitor hero reader, controlling/possessive shigaraki, dacryphillia, intercrural, unhealthy relationships, begging, praise, mdni wc: 3.3k | crossposted to ao3

You feel dirty. 

You feel dirty, cold and disgusting every time you do this, but you just couldn’t stop. 

You can’t remember when it started or who made the first move on who, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re here now, under him as he leers over you, grin wild and wicked knowing he’s got you right where he wants you. 

“What’s going on in there, hero?” Shigaraki questions you, his body towering over you as his legs straddle your thighs. 

You know better than to lie to him. 

“N-nothing.” You meekly reply hoping he’ll be satisfied with your answer and move on. 

He brings a hand down, holding your cheeks together and you wish he would lean down, get closer, give you more. “That’s right,” his voice is low and filled with amusement, “nothing going on in that dumb little brain of yours.”

This time you whimper, thighs pressing together to hide your arousal. It would only be dragged out more if he knew how much his words turned you on. 

“Stupid little hero. What are you here for?”

“Y-you.” You squeeze through pressed cheeks. 

The answer does not satisfy him this time. “What about me?”

“Your cock. I came here for your coc— ah!” Your words are cut short as he flips you over, cheeks mushing into his dark pillow. 

Shigaraki wastes no time disintegrating your shorts and dragging your underwear down playfully slow. 

It drives you mad. 

“No! No— Shigaraki, I-I want to see your face, please!” You beg and it would be pathetic to your own ears if you weren’t so horny. 

The low rumble of his chuckle has arousal pooling in your belly and you can almost feel the slick sliding down your cunt. 

“You want to see my face?” He mimics and you nod as best you could with your face pressed down. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

And you’re back on your back, sigh of relief falling from your lips as you meet Shigaraki’s red gaze. 

He leans forward and you feel your heart rate rise, his hair brushing your cheek as he whispers in your ear, “but don’t think this means I’ll go soft on you, hero.”

You nod, uncaring and wanting nothing but him — too smitten by his proximity to really care how he treats you. 

His smile should insight fear, make you curl away and run, but it only spurs on the warm feeling in your chest even more. 

He knows he’s got you hook, line and sinker by the way you bite your lip and make room for him between your legs. 

It’s so desperate it almost disgusts him. 

You are Shigaraki's biggest fan and he wants to break you. 

A hero is still a hero, traitor or not. But there’s nothing in the rules against using the prettiest one he’s ever seen for his own benefit. Especially when she becomes such a loyal puppy for him in his bed. 

He pulls down his own pants, cock red and leaking at the ordeal and the sight of it makes you reach forward. You want to take him into your hand and take care of him yourself but he stops you, slapping your hand away in disgust. 

“Don’t touch me.” He hisses, eyes filled with vitriol and anger. You nod and lean back, waiting eagerly for him to touch you. 

It’s never the other way around — Shigaraki has made that clear more than once. 

He lazily drags a finger between your folds, the touch making your hips jump forward in surprise. You’re so wet the slide is easy. 

“Whatcha’ so wet for, slut?” He questions slowly pressing his index finger into your sopping cunt, forcing a moan from your throat. His finger reaches deep and it has you gasping, fighting with everything you could to refrain from fucking yourself on it. 

You knew better. If you tried to take more than he offered, he would take it away. 

So it’s to your delight when Shigaraki takes pity on you and pushes a second digit in, dropping the rest of his body down to lap at the sensitive area of your neck. 

You moan unabashedly, glee of the stretch making you dizzy, but it doesn’t end there.

Shigaraki takes his time, gliding his fingers in and out of your cunt, searching diligently for that sweet spot inside that drove you mad. He presses deeper, pulling a gasp from you as he finds exactly what he’s looking for, abusing the spongy spot as he sucks dark bruises into the column of your neck. 

The push and pull is intoxicating and you feel the warmth in your abdomen spread as the feelings become more and more intense. Shigaraki nips at your neck, the sharp pain pulling your focus back to his ministrations and you chance tangling your fingers in his ashen locks. 

He allows it, you can even feel the small grin sneaking onto his face and you’re sure you’ve done the right thing. 

You should have known better. 

Tomura takes your distraction in stride, pressing a thumb to your sensitive clit and massaging it along with his other movements. The pressure is so intense you almost fall apart then and there.

Almost.

Shigaraki has shown you time and time again that nothing is ever easy. He wouldn’t let you cum so soon — and he doesn’t. No, he takes his fingers away from you and sits back, taking in the sight of your ruined orgasm. 

“You didn’t think I'd let you go that easy, did you?” His grin is wicked as you writhe below him, forcing yourself not to reach down and finish the job on your own. 

“N-no.” Your response is meek, but he enjoys it. Shigaraki leans down, face so close and you feel lost in his carmine eyes — you can’t help yourself when it happens. 

You lean forward to kiss him, feeling captivated by his gaze and Tomura swiftly turns his head, avoiding your lips and leaving you high and dry.

He scoffs, pulling away once more to give you a halfhearted glare. “No, thanks, hero.”

Begging was on the tip of your tongue, only stopped by Shigaraki hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder, putting your cunt on full display for his eyes only. 

The chill of the room made you shiver, but you didn’t dare shy away from him. 

“Such a pretty cunt, such a pretty girl. Too bad you’re a dumb little hero.” His hand is uncharacteristically gentle as he rubs your smooth thigh. 

His words pull a whine from your throat, eagerness getting the better of you as you stir, ready for anything else he would give you. 

Shigaraki grabs your other leg, throwing it over his shoulder as well while his cock rests on your pelvis.

It’s thick and heavy on your abdomen, already leaking precum onto your stomach and near your navel. You feel the heat pool between your legs at the thought of his cock bruising your insides with its girth. The thought is electrifying and you squirm under his touch.

Shigaraki seems to finally take some pity on you as he starts to thrust, pressing your thighs together. They are soft and plush under his grip and he moans at the friction. 

You can’t beg him, if he knows you want him inside he’ll just continue to fuck your thighs, cumming all over your stomach while he lectures you about patience — leaving you horny and unsatisfied.

So you wait, allowing him to fuck your thighs while you watch his eyes close and sparse brows furrow at the sensation. 

He gets lost in the feeling and looks down at you, his ruby red gaze pulling you into a trace. “You want me to cum like this?” He asks through thrusts. 

You don’t, but you know he just might if you tell him that. 

“Y-yes. Whatever you want.” You hope he believes you. 

Shigaraki’s lids lowered, the unamusement plain on his face and you know you’ve fucked up. 

“Liar.” He spits and you whimper. “Fine, I’ll give it to you, just stop looking at me with those eyes.”

He spreads your legs once more and kneads the sensitive parts of your inner thighs. It makes you cry out. 

“Shut up,” he spits, sneer on his mouth as he straightens up, sliding his cock between your wet folds and pumping it with your slick. “Before I really give you something to cry about.”

You worry your lip, tired of the game and downright sick of the waiting. 

“You know what,” he ponders as he lines the thick head of his cock with with your entrance, “I just might.” 

His smile is wicked as he gives you no time to mull over his words, instead choosing to fill you completely and suddenly, the ache of the stretch makes you cry out, eyes pressed shut at the intrusion. 

“What?” he questions, wasting no time setting a heavy pace, hips pulling back only to snap forward, shoving his cock further into your soft walls. “Thought you wanted it, hero?”

You reach a hand back, gripping the pillow beside your head as you try to hold on to your tears. The throb of the stretch was nothing compared to the rough rhythm the villain set. You couldn’t hold your cries in if you tried, but you knew Shigaraki would only try to make them louder. 

“Yeah, that's it,” he murmurs, steady pace rocking you against the bed with a force that slowly drives you up towards his headboard, “cry for me.”  

Tomura’s red gaze is locked on yours as he drags his hand up your body and to your breast, cupping them with a gentle squeeze. You moan out at the action and gasp as he tweaks a perky nipple between his forefinger and thumb. 

He slowly moves his hand up further, reaching the column of your neck as he failed to hide his grin. 

His hand is large as it wraps around your neck, four fingers down and one dangerously close. It was close enough to make you sweat. It was a threat. Don’t move too much or I’ll slip, he would tell you. It scared you to your core but god it turned you on, too. 

You gasp at the feeling, fear furthering your dizzy pleasure.

“Open your mouth.” Shigaraki commands, and you oblige — eager to please. “Stick your tongue out.” You do, causing him to chuckle. 

“You look fucking stupid.” He leans over sticking his own tongue out and you watch as the slick clear spit drips from his tongue down into your mouth.  

“Swallow it.” His words are sharp and you do as you are told, hoping that maybe he would give you a reward, but he doesn’t — you receive only a dark laugh in return. “Nasty bitch.” 

His words are filled with vitriol, but you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you. Shigaraki closes his eyes, pounding into you as his fingers press onto your neck. 

The pressure makes you gasp, vision going blurry. 

Shigaraki can’t help it, he can’t help the way your pretty cries fizzle out when he presses too tightly or holds on for a little too long. Deep down, he feels like you deserve it. It's his own special way of knocking you down a peg — of knocking all heroes down in more ways than one. 

You can tell he is getting lost in it by the way his rhythm is smooth and he has the perfect amount of pressure on your neck that makes your brain fuzzy and makes you see stars. 

But what he doesn’t know is that he’s driving into you so good and it’s making your eyes roll back with the way the head of his cock brushes against your sensitive spot inside. It doesn’t help that he's only picked up the pace, mistaking your silent cries for overstimulation. 

He’s hitting it over and over again, each brush sending jolts of pleasure up your spine and try as you may but you just can’t keep holding on. 

Tears build in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you realize you won't last much longer. The pressure inside of you was getting tighter and tighter as your thighs began to squeeze around his waist. 

You’re close.

So close and you can’t stop it when it happens — your brows furrow as your thighs tense at the sensation.

You’re about to cum and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

You can’t even make a sound because Shigaraki is squeezing your throat again and that’s all it takes. It pushes you over, back arching as waves of pleasure shoot through your body. 

The feeling is so good and you can't stop the tears from escaping now, body in a state of extended euphoria as your lungs struggle to inhale more air into them. 

It's an accident, an honest accident that you couldn’t have stopped if you tried, but you know the man above you would never see it that way. 

“Did you— did you just cum on my cock?” You can see the anger through the lust in his eyes as he slows his pace down to a much more shallow thrust. It makes you shiver. 

“Yes! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Shigaraki—“

“God, you’re such a slut.” He huffs, like this ordeal was no more than a mere inconvenience instead of a mind numbing orgasm. 

You feel relieved, fully believing he would not punish you for something you couldn’t control.

You’re wrong. 

In an instant, Shigaraki pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach and caging you beneath him. 

“You feel so needy, right?” he questions, pulling a whine from your throat, “Needy girls just want to cum don’t they? You don’t need to see my face.”

At this, you feel the thick press of two fingers sinking into your cunt, the slick from your orgasm making them slide in with ease as the smooth feeling of Shigaraki’s digits bring tears to your eyes. 

“I do, Shigaraki, please—” you start, ready to beg for his forgiveness. You would do anything to get him to fuck you within an inch of your life again, “A-Ah—!”

He wastes no time in continuing his attack on your sensitive walls, pulling a cry from your throat as you writhe from the overstimulation. You've already cum once and the added pressure of his fingers pinpointing your sweet spot is only driving you closer and closer to another one. 

Your mind feels muddled as you have no choice but to lay there and take the pace Shigaraki has set with his fingers, the rising pleasure making your toes curl as even more tears fall from your eyes and onto his dark pillow. 

“Yeah, that’s it.” he murmurs, loving the submission you’ve given him. 

Shigaraki presses down on your back, pinky carefully raised as he his other hand goes in and out, pace ruthlessly steady as he pulls you towards another climax. 

Overstimulated and crying, you are only along for the ride as Shigaraki forces another orgasm from your already wracked body, the slick juices coating his fingers and feeding the fuel to his fire. 

“Oh, fuck.” he breathes, riding out your climax as you cry into his pillow, it feels electric as he carries you through it. 

You can’t help the next words that leave your lips, too intoxicated by the ongoing pleasure given to you by the man above. 

“I’m sorry, Tomura!” you blubber, tears blinding your vision as you gasp for air. You're drooling on the pillow and ruining his sheets but you can't stop — it just feels too good. “I love you!”

Tomura is behind you, caging you on the bed, his warm tongue licking the tears from your cheeks. “You love me? Well, isn't that cute.” 

He doesn’t say it back, he never says it back but you tell him anyway. What else could this overwhelming need for him be called?

He doesn’t give you a second to breathe as he flips you back over and slides back in — picking back up on his aggressive pace while you fight to stay coherent. 

He’s fucking you so hard and so deep you barely register the crown of your head knocking against the headboard from his thrusts. 

“The pretty, dumb little hero is in love with the villain, hm?”

You’re openly crying, the tears flowing freely as you writhe from overstimulation. 

“But it’s okay. I’ll guide you — I’ll help you.” He rants on, thrusts only getting rougher. “I’ll show you how much the heroes don’t care about you — I’ll educate you. Teach you a lesson.” 

You’re whining, keening high and needy as you feel your next orgasm approaching. 

“You want that? Want me to fuck you stupid and bring you to my side?”

You nod, desperately chasing your high again. 

Shigaraki is amused. “Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just get you pregnant and leave you. Tell your little hero friends you got knocked up by a villain, hm?” He’s close to your ear, his hair tickles as it fans over your cheek.

You didn't care what he asked of you at this point, you were inches away from your third peak of the night and you would agree to walk with him into hell if it meant he would make you see those stars again. 

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself, having reached a conclusion, “I think you’ll make a good example.”

You feel caught in a trance as Shigaraki continues his pace, eyes locked on yours as his mischievous grin widens. He loves to see you broken and needy. But you knew, deep down, he would never stop calling you to his bed, no matter how many times he’s threatened you. 

His eyes close, getting lost in the pleasure as his strokes begin to stutter and become uneven.

“Gonna cum — where do you want it?” His sparse brows furrowed as he pistons into you. 

“Inside, inside!” You beg and it’s a mistake. 

Tomura would never give you what you want. 

He pulls out at the last second, pumping his cock and sighing in relief as he spurts rope after rope of milky white right onto your cunt. A few of the solid streaks hit your clit and make you jolt from its pressure.

You should have known he wouldn’t listen to your pleas.. 

He leaves you high and dry, cunt pulsing around nothing as you cum for the third time tonight. It would have upset you more if he hadn’t wrecked you so thoroughly beforehand. 

Shigaraki watches as you come down from your high, eyes glossy as the tears on your cheeks begin to dry. You couldn’t move if you wanted to and you’re thankful he hasn’t kicked you out yet.

No, he does something that shocks even you from your blissed out stupor. 

Shigaraki leans down and captures your lips in a deep, chaste kiss. One that goes no further than a press of the lips but sends your heart racing. 

He pulls back only a sliver and then you see it. 

It's only a flash, and then it's gone again. 

You notice the way his eyes soften ever-so-slightly as he pulls away further.

Lust, want, longing. 

Shigaraki can lie to himself as much as he wants to, but you know the truth.

Love is not the opposite of hate and there is such a thin line between the two.

Tomura Shigaraki is not immune to raw emotion, no matter how much he claims to be.

So you lie there, catching your breath and knowing he would make you leave soon, but knowing he would call you back all the same. 

But it's okay — you would keep chipping away at his resolve in the meantime. 

You know that it’s only a matter of time until he cracks.

NSFW Alphabet ~ Tomura Shigaraki

Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.

On to the alphabet! This is a nsfw version so minors DNI!

A: Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

You had to teach Shigaraki aftercare. He honestly would have gone straight to playing video games. But he honestly loves to lay with you and talk. 

B: Body Part (Which body part do they like the most?)

He loves your lips. Your lips speak comforting words yet are deliciously sweet to kiss. He likes when you kiss each scar. 

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Shigaraki likes to treat his cum like marking. Whether it is dripping out of your cunt or all over your body, it shows you as his. 

D: Dreams (Do they have sex dreams? If yes, what is it/happens after?)

He loves to dream of you in his favorite video game character and looking at him with a pouty expression before he gives permission to suck him off while he plays video games. But he never mentions it to you because he is afraid of what you’d think. 

E: Experience (How much experience do they have?)

Very little. He had the knowledge of porn but since most people were afraid of quirk, he never really had someone

F: Favorite Position (What is their favorite position for sex?)

Honestly loves you on top while he’s playing video games. He loves feeling your tight cunt milking him and loves to see how long he can last. 

G: Grab (Where do their hands lie)

After getting a pair of gloves to stop his quirk during intimacy, he loves to grab anywhere. He loves to feel how warm and soft you are under his hands. 

H: Hot and bothered (How do you know they want sex?)

Usually Shigaraki can hide it. He usually uses anger to hide it. But if he really is horny, he will elbow your side. When you look at him, he points down to the tent in his pants and then to the room. 

I: Intimacy (How caring and nurturing are they during the moment?)

Not usually very caring. He’s still unsure and has some insecurities. But there are some small things he does. He always seems to know how your body reacts and how your eyes react. He focuses on these things so he doesn’t hurt you.

J: Jack off (Do they jack off? What do they think about?)

Sometimes. You both are in the LOV but for the one instance that you are out, he jerks off. He honestly thinks about how you feel. How soft your body jiggles when you thrust. Your weeping cunt begging for him. 

K: Kink (Secret kink that you learn)

Praise kink. One night you told him that only he could make you cum this many times. That he is amazing. You figured when he began to get louder that was his kink. He could degrade you all you want but hearing you sing praises excites him.

L: Location (Favorite place to have sex)

He actually enjoys starting sex in the bar. He forces everyone out and begins making you cream on the bar table. Masturbating you till you beg for him to move and until you are soaking the table. Once you get there, he’s already entered your sopping cunt and rides you. He wants others to know their leader gets laid daily. He’ll worry about the mess later. After he messes your insides around. 

M: Motivation (what are their turn ons?)

Praise him, suck him off while playing video games, or let him play and edge you with your cunt during a meeting. Any of these things and he has to control himself from taking you wherever you are located. 

N: Nope! (Turn offs, things that they would not do)

Anything without his gloves. Even if he fingering you under the table, he will have something protecting him. You’re his first real intimacy. He doesn’t want you to fade to ash on his mistake.

O: Oral (Do they like to receive or give? Anything else.)

Loves to receive it. Something about your lips and pouty expression gets him riled up. That doesn’t mean he won’t eat you out till you cream. He just prefers to receive oral. 

P: Pace (How fast or slow are they? Is there a reason?)

Unless you provoke him, he is quite slow. He has the control how to rile you up. Even if you are begging him to go fast, he’ll laugh and go even slower. Every ridge of his cock bumping into you as slow as possible. Provoke him though and he is an animal of lust and will make you orgasm more times that you can keep track of. 

Q: Quickie (What are they like? Are they quick?)

Not really into quickies. He prefers to have you sopping his hand during a meeting and whimpering in his ear. Or the other option is just having you cockwarm him while he talks to Kurogiri or the others.

R: Romance (Is there anything that sets the mood?)

There usually isn’t music or anything that sets the mood. The only time anything is romantic is with Kurogiri’s help. He will help Shigaraki lighten the mood on special days. 

S: Stamina (How many rounds or how long?)

Normally you orgasm about 3 times and so does Shigaraki. Once by oral and twice by penetration. But if he is frustrated or angry, definitely you will lose track of your orgasms as Shigaraki cums over and over.

T: Talk (what is their dirty talk?)

Say my name Doll. Tell me about how good I’m fucking you. Tell the others how good I feel. I bet the others wish they had you. But you are mine. My Doll with this soppy cunt. 

U: Unfair (Do they tease and how much?)

Of course he does. I’ve mentioned previously making you orgasm with his hands during a meeting but I didn’t go into much of the cockwarming. After you are soaking, you slide onto his cock and he’ll force you to sit there. A few experimental thrusts just to embarrass you in front of Kurogiri. And let’s say your cunt is milking him, he’ll reach for your clit and rub it hard where you have trouble holding your moans. 

V: Vexing (Is there any outfits or looks that make them think dirty thoughts?)

Of course seeing you in cosplay is the best but another thing that makes him hard is you only in his hoodie. It proves your his and gives him easy access to play with you while hiding it. 

W: Walk it off (Can you walk it off or do you need help?)

Definitely need help. But usually Shigaraki won’t send you on missions just so you can bask in the afterglow. He’ll allow Toga or Kurogiri to help but Dabi and Twice are off limits. 

X: X-Ray (How big are they?)

About 7 inches or so. He’s slightly larger than most but also has ridges on it so it bums your walls every time.

Y: Yelling (Are they loud or soft vocally?)

Definitely vocal about what you do to him. It helps his ego but also makes him proud so he likes to say it loudly. But if he is teasing you, he’ll whisper insanely dirty things or locations to try. 

Z: ZZZ… (How quickly they fall asleep)

Usually Shigaraki goes back to playing video games but he’ll still be in bed because (even though he doesn’t want to admit it) when you cuddle into his chest, he’ll sigh and pat your head. 

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 !

if you would please write loser boyfriend shigaraki who gets jealous of others comments about you and takes fem!reader home to fuck her dumb, it would me really happy 👽

“𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞“

pairing; loser bf!shigaraki x fem!reader

cw; nsfw, oral (m!receiving)

a/n; I feel like this is so bad

“those fucking idiots think they have a chance with my girl, would you give them a chance baby” he knows you can’t respond as he has his fingers down your throat leaving your mouth open as he fucks you in vengeance, punishing you for what others say.

this has happened on more than one occasion, in passing he’ll hear others make a comment about your body and he’ll come home to take out his frustrations out on you. “yeah you’re sexy but you’re fucking mine. they don’t deserve to even look at you. filthy pigs.”

to others he may seem weak and scrawny, but when he has you fucked out on all fours thrusting you from behind pace unrelenting, pushing you into the bed the force of his thrusts causing the bed to shake and the headboard to hit the wall, he doesn’t seem meek at all.

“tell me baby, do you think they’d fuck you better than I can” it’s hard for you to speak with the way he’s hitting you g-spot on point with every thrust making your eyes roll back but you manage to shake your head. “that fucking right, only I can fuck you like this. you belong to me. i own this pussy. no-one else can have you.”

the two of you could be out together on a date and he would hear someone snickers something like “what a waste” or “she could do better” and as soon as you get home before you can even lock the did behind you he have you on your knees as he whips out his cock for you to suck. grabbing you hair making you gag on his cock.

“why would you need better when you have me, all you need is a cock to suck. mine does the job doesn’t it?” his cock slips out and it slaps against your face smearing spit on your face and he watches as you slip it back into your mouth.

“see look at you, all you are is a cock hungry slut. isn’t that what you are?” you nod your head agreeing to him in a cock drunk state starting up at him through wet lashes, your face a mess from you tears and spit.

to others on the outside you’re the cheerful girlfriend with. her loser boyfriend that walks around with her stalking behind her, but at home you worship him and his cock as they are the only thing you need to live.

you know that he loves you and he know that you would never leave him but he also knows that you live it when he gets jealous and fucks you till you can’t remember your own name.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭