#tomura shigaraki imagines

[zapreportsblog]

↱ fun at the arcade ↰

➘ summary : Tomura Shigaraki goes to the arcade and ends up having fun for once in his life

➘ Tomura Shigaraki x reader, league of villains x reader

The neon lights of the arcade glowed brilliantly in the evening, casting a vibrant hue over the bustling crowd. Amidst the sounds of laughter and the flashing screens, Tomura Shigaraki, usually immersed in the dark world of villainy, found himself inexplicably drawn to the allure of the arcade.

He stood near a row of claw machines, his hands tucked into his pockets, his eyes scanning the array of games. Tomura was known for his brooding and serious demeanor, but in this moment, he felt a strange sense of nostalgia, memories of a simpler time tugging at his thoughts.

As he observed the crowd, his attention was captured by a young woman, (Y/N), who seemed to be engrossed in a dance game. Her movements were fluid, her expression a mix of determination and concentration. Tomura found himself inexplicably drawn to her energy, a stark contrast to his own inner turmoil.

(Y/N) noticed his gaze and flashed him a friendly smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Hey there! Are you here to play too?"

Tomura's usual response would have been a cold dismissal, but he found himself nodding, almost involuntarily. "Yeah, I guess I am."

With an inviting gesture, (Y/N) motioned to the machine next to her. "Wanna play together? It's more fun with a partner!"

Tomura hesitated, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Yet, something about (Y/N)'s openness and genuine enthusiasm compelled him to step closer and take a seat beside her.

They played a few rounds, laughter and camaraderie filling the air. Tomura's tense demeanor began to relax, a rare smile gracing his lips as he lost himself in the games. It was as if he had momentarily forgotten the weight of his villainous responsibilities.

"(Y/N), you're really good at this," he admitted, his surprise evident.

(Y/N) shrugged modestly. "I've been coming here for a while. It's a great way to unwind and have fun."

As the evening wore on, Tomura and (Y/N) continued to enjoy each other's company, moving from game to game with a sense of shared excitement. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, the connection between them growing stronger with every passing moment.

"(Y/N), this has been unexpectedly enjoyable," Tomura confessed, his tone more sincere than he had intended.

She grinned, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm glad you decided to join in on the fun. It's always nice to make new friends."

The word "friend" resonated with Tomura in a way he hadn't expected. He had become so isolated in his world of darkness that the concept of friendship felt foreign, yet strangely comforting.

As the night drew to a close, (Y/N) stood beside Tomura, her expression one of genuine warmth. "I had a great time hanging out with you, (Y/N). Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

Tomura felt a flicker of hesitation, a reminder of the secrets he carried. But he found himself nodding, a sense of yearning for connection overriding his reservations. "Yeah, I'd like that."

As they parted ways, Tomura watched (Y/N) disappear into the crowd, a sense of unexpected hope and lightness in his heart. For a brief moment, he had experienced a taste of normalcy, a reminder that even in the darkness, there was the potential for something more.

In the days that followed, Tomura found his thoughts often drifting to the memory of his time at the arcade with (Y/N). The connection they had formed had ignited a spark of something he hadn't felt in a long time – a sense of camaraderie and a fleeting glimpse of the ordinary world.

One afternoon, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Tomura found himself standing outside the arcade once again. He hesitated for a moment, his inner turmoil warring with his desire for connection. Eventually, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, the familiar sounds and lights enveloping him.

His gaze searched the crowd, and he finally spotted (Y/N) at a racing game, her eyes fixed on the screen as she maneuvered her virtual car. With a mixture of determination and nostalgia, Tomura approached her.

"(Y/N)," he called out, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

She turned to him with a smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. "Hey! I didn't expect to see you here."

Tomura shrugged, a hint of awkwardness in his movements. "I thought... maybe we could hang out again."

(Y/N)'s smile widened, and she motioned to the open seat beside her. "Sure, come join me! This game is a bit challenging, but I'm determined to win."

Tomura took a seat beside her, his heart surprisingly at ease in her presence. They played the game together, cheering each other on and sharing laughter as they navigated the virtual track.

As they moved on to other games, their conversations flowed effortlessly. Tomura found himself opening up in ways he hadn't thought possible. He spoke about his past, the challenges he faced, and the complexities of his world. And in turn, (Y/N) shared stories about her own life, her dreams, and her aspirations.

"You know, (Y/N), I haven't felt this... normal in a long time," Tomura admitted, his gaze a mixture of vulnerability and earnestness.

She nodded, her understanding evident. "Sometimes, it's the simple moments that remind us of the beauty in life. Even in a world of chaos, there are pockets of joy and connection."

Tomura's chest tightened at her words, a mixture of gratitude and longing flooding his emotions. In (Y/N)'s presence, he felt a rare sense of acceptance, as if his flaws and darkness were momentarily eclipsed by the light of their friendship.

As the evening came to an end, (Y/N) turned to Tomura with a smile. "I'm really glad we met, (Y/N). You've brought a touch of brightness into my day."

He met her gaze, his own eyes holding a mixture of gratitude and something deeper. "Me too, (Y/N). You've shown me a different side of life."

As they parted ways once again, Tomura carried with him a renewed sense of purpose. The connection he had found with (Y/N) reminded him that even in the midst of his villainous journey, there was the potential for change and redemption.

The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear – the unexpected bond he shared with (Y/N) had opened a door to a world he hadn't dared to dream of. And he was determined to see where it led.

In the days that followed, Tomura's interactions with (Y/N) became a bright spot in his otherwise chaotic existence. They met at the arcade regularly, sharing laughter, stories, and an ever-growing sense of camaraderie. For Tomura, these moments offered a temporary reprieve from the darkness that consumed him.

One evening, as they walked out of the arcade together, Tomura hesitated, a question tugging at his thoughts. "(Y/N), there's something I should tell you."

(Y/N) looked at him curiously, her expression open and attentive. "What is it, (Y/N)?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. "I... I'm not who you think I am. I'm involved in things that... you wouldn't understand."

(Y/N)'s brow furrowed in confusion, concern flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

Tomura's gaze held a mixture of hesitation and urgency. "I'm part of something darker, something you'd probably consider villainous."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of emotions crossing her features. "Wait, you're saying... you're a villain?"

He nodded, his voice somber. "Yes, and my actions... they've hurt people."

For a moment, there was silence as (Y/N) processed his confession. Tomura braced himself for a reaction, expecting her to pull away in fear or disgust.

But to his surprise, (Y/N) placed a gentle hand on his arm, her eyes filled with empathy. "Tomura, I believe that people are complex. We're shaped by our experiences and the choices we make. You're more than just a label. You're a person with your own story."

Tomura was taken aback by her understanding, a mixture of gratitude and disbelief flooding his emotions. "You don't... hate me?"

(Y/N) shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "I don't hate anyone without knowing their full story. And if you're willing to share your story with me, I'm willing to listen."

His heart swelled with a mixture of emotions – gratitude, relief, and a growing sense of attachment. In (Y/N)'s presence, he felt seen in a way he hadn't before. He felt like more than just a villain; he felt like a person with the potential for change.

Over the next few weeks, Tomura gradually opened up to (Y/N) about his past, his motivations, and the tangled web of villainy he was a part of. Her acceptance and willingness to understand him created a bond that transcended their differences.

As they spent time together, (Y/N) reminded Tomura of the humanity he had lost touch with. She showed him that even in the darkest of circumstances, there was room for redemption and growth.

And as the days turned into nights, Tomura found himself unraveling layers of his own heart. He realized that the connection he shared with (Y/N) was a testament to the power of compassion and understanding, a beacon of light that had the potential to guide him towards a different path.

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[tobegiggledat]

Before They Disappeared

18+ CONTENT AHEAD MINORS DNI

✦pairing: Tomura Shigaraki × afab!reader (no pronouns used)

✦warnings: angst, dissociation, reader questions reality in some parts, reader has a vague backstory and a quirk, reader is briefly a sex worker, implied past sex abuse, implied past gaslighting, brief rape/noncon in the beginning(not by Shigaraki), memory loss, self-esteem issues, grief/loss, kissing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex

✦word count: 13.6k

✦summary: Tomura Shigaraki gathers League members solely to provide them with an opportunity to embrace the quirks and talents they’ve been told to subdue for most of their lives. So, when he spots you, alone and abandoned, he thinks you're one of his greatest potential assets yet.

✦a/n: I’ve already posted part 1 a while ago, but this version includes both parts and smut. If you already read it you can skip to chapter 2 on my ao3 or skip to what’s past the red line further down on here.

Touch is your safety.

Strokes from idle hands keep you grounded, no matter how perverse their intentions are, and even as aged and callused knuckles wander lower, lower with excessive lust seeping through its veins, you welcome it—for it comes with the job after all…

Being mainly at a salary man's beck and call means you've gotten used to ogling eyes and unwanted touches that linger on your waist for far longer than they should. It's a frowned upon profession but it's familiar. Sex is all you know and it's all you'll ever know.

A rough thumb swipes along your bottom lip then tugs at it gently.

“Sorry, you were spacin’ out there n’ I can't have that”, the older client above you speaks between pants, the backs of your thighs are pressed snuggly against his pelvis as your spine is parallel to the tainted silk mattress beneath it.

To not be touched is to disappear.

“Yeah, sorry…”, your words are meekly spoken into his chest, your breath a small wind passing through the silver hairs along it.

A tacky cheetah print pattern lines the wooden walls of the room while the air smells heavy of cigarette smoke despite the dozens of no smoking signs one passes upon entering the establishment.

The man's reddening cheeks puff outward with exhaustion, and the view from below has him looking like an angry puffer fish. The rhythmic slaps of wet skin is oddly soothing, almost enough to drift off to.

“Gonna fill you up”, he reaches for one of your breasts and places what he's gathered tightly between his teeth. “Gonna fill yer tight hole with my seed.” His hips plunge deeper, cock angling the furthest it can reach.

“Ah, ‘s too rough. Stop it. S-stop”, you desperately paw and swat at his hands until he relents, but he only begins to thrust into you more hastily. “Get offa me already”, you shove but it’s much weaker than your earlier attempts.

You shove, and you scratch, and you shove some more, but you’re steadily losing control of your body—this body. This one without nerves or electric impulses, a body that responds to signals far different than the ones you provide.

Why won’t it move?

The corners of your vision are black, and then the walls, and then the man before you. His body becomes indistinguishable from the surfaces behind him, all consumed by what you think is a sudden lack of light, yet the room still remains as bright as it was originally.

How long have you been at this? Is he done yet, has he–has he already—

A distant memory of a familiar figure begins to mesh with man before you. And while they aren’t physically there, the figure’s presence still makes the air damp from their predatory huffs, the overwhelming scent of their breath remains fossilized within you and is unforgettable.

It’s not long before the older man is gone completely, and his existence is overshadowed by something more sinister.

The limbs of the body swiftly double in weight while it goes rigid the instant the figure's features become more than vague ridges etched within skin.

It has to move.

But it won’t move. Why won’t it move?

From within you're tumbling over at full velocity, organs collapsing and taking everything along its path with it—but from the outside no one else has the slightest clue you've begun the procedure for self-destruction.

You fight against its tears and the weight of its eyelids to keep aware. If you blink it’ll be like it never happened—as if nothing ever happened to you.

You can’t disappear. You can’t disappear.

He can’t disappear.

Finally, your lips—

“My quirk!”, you shout. “You're gonna—you’re gonna—“

The man quickly snaps away from you, his length briefly slapping against your thighs on the way out as he tucks it back in his draws before pulling a stack of cash out his pants pocket.

“Here, take yer pay”, he tosses the stack beside you. “You’re not gettin’ the full thing for this shit.”

When you fully come to, he's already left your wheezing and defeated form on the brothel mattress.

Dried tears have left salt stains just below your lashes, your lips ooze crimson droplets wherever your teeth have gnawed against them. You pass your tongue over the bruised areas to feel cool air brush against its dampness.

The swipes of his hands still remain alight in your nerves, but it's faint and doesn't suffice.

How can you tell whether you've disappeared already without outside acknowledgement?

It's too quiet. Maybe the world is empty outside of your room. It's too difficult to hear anything else besides the harsh blows from the A/C vent above you and creaking as the walls begin to settle.

Though, the figure is quick to appear again amidst the silence.

“Don’t touch me”, you say quietly, trembling as you divert your eyes from them. “Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me”, your head shakes on its own as more tears begin to streak your cheeks.

You close your eyes…just for a moment…then open them to a circle of concerned expressions.

“I-I, ‘m sorry. I—“, you say to your coworkers, now before you.

“The boss is super pissed right now, he was one our best clients”, the centermost one chides. “What did you do?”

You go on to describe your exchange with the pushy customer while leaving out the details of the visions that occurred afterwards.

And while you have no recollection of running down the halls while kicking around and thrashing yourself in the air, the others do, and they inform you of everything that happened prior to the moment you were fully aware.

Eventually, the establishment owner scolds you for disturbing the customers, with interspersed puffs of smoke passing from between her cherry lips, then dismisses you with a wave of her cigarette (she says her smoking inside is a one time thing caused by you stressing her out).

The early dismissal has you standing just outside the building, illuminated under streetlights and by cars that are still traveling during the late hour. Your shoulders rest against the cool bricks of some nearby alley—the place you work is located in an awkward area downtown—but the night is quiet.

Even the small breeze that passes through is hushed, while the view ahead of you is easy on your tear-fatigued eyes.

But it isn’t enough to release the weight of everything that transpired.

Your back slides along the wall until you're in a disheveled heap, you pull your knees into your chest and burrow your head into them, pondering the familiarity of the disgusted expression the older client made as he left, the validity of your memories, and…

And how much longer of it you can take—how much longer can you bear questioning everything you’ve gone through.

You feel a presence stalking over you.

You then peer through your elbows, lower face still covered by arms, to identify who they might be.

A stranger.

How long has he been there?

“No one came to save you”, the sky blue haired man begins with a tone syrupy and sweet. Scars align his eyes while his cracked lips are upturned into a polite grin. “That must’ve hurt, right?”

Tomura Shigaraki gathers League members solely to provide them with an opportunity to embrace the quirks and talents they’ve been told to subdue for most of their lives. He creates a stage for outcasts, or those regarded as too irredeemable to keep the status quo, and he brings their supposed darkness to light.

Many who haven’t seen them in action may question how he does so with a mere giggling school girl, an overly-confident magician, and his other questionably picked participants—but his past opponents understand quite well…

So when he spots you, alone and abandoned, he thinks you're one of his greatest potential assets yet.

He scouts you just as he was scouted, with a confident hand stretching outwardly toward your weeping, huddled form, and a comforting offer of family spewing from his lips.

“No one came to save you”, he begins. “That must’ve hurt, right?”

Your trickling eyes finally gleam up in adoration at the pale stranger you now deem your savior.

And they shine so…brilliantly, despite your circumstances—he’ll certainly make great use of someone like you.

He's sure of it.

“How do you know that—No–who are you?”, you question, back no longer hunched as you jerk uptight at the man’s words.

“I have an eye for those mistreated by this rotten society”, the man replies, confidently.

“You’re just like us, aren’t you?”

“I don't understand. Who’s us?”

“You’ll find out soon enough if you come with me.” He places a pale, inviting hand toward you.

You shift your gaze away. “I don’t know if I should—“

“Don’t you find it strange how not a single hero has arrived to save you? This society always stresses the importance of them, but they're never really there when people need saving.” He pauses before roughly scraping at the skin below his jaw.

“I was saved once but not by some hero”, he continues. “No, I was saved by my mentor and I’d like to do the same for you.” His head is at level with yours.

“Tomura Shigaraki.” He stretches that same hand forward, yet his eyes seem to glimmer with a bit more resolve. “I’d like to save you, if only you’d let me?”

Your gaze travels the outward slender digits, and then the clothed arm that’s connected to it, until you eventually reach the blood pools that form his irises—they’re surprisingly gentle, smiling even.

What does it mean to be saved anyways? You question it briefly and conclude it's worth a shot going along with him to find out.

There shouldn’t be much harm in doing so, right?

Your fingers slowly reach for his own, interlocking in a firm grip as he begins to pull you up, and you steadily rise to your feet with his guidance.

You stand before him, eyes fleetingly locked on his, yet he quickly turns to walk ahead, expecting you to follow.

“Where are we going, Shigaraki, sir?”, you trail behind him closely as if a lost duckling.

“Tomura’s fine. And we’re going to that truck just up ahead.” He points to an old red semi on the other side of a parking lot. “We’ll use it to take you back to the hideout.”

Upon reaching it, he walks near the back of the truck before beginning to fumble with the latch that secures its doors.

Your heart flutters in anticipation while waiting to meet the crew Tomura has spoken of, you make your best attempt to look presentable despite the informal circumstances; adjusting your outfit, your posture and other small things that you’d like to make neat even though they’re unnoticeable.

“There’s room for you back here”, he says, hands finally maneuvering the lever enough to open it.

And when it does, those inside immediately recoil at the sudden light before they even get the chance to take in your appearance.

The group sits across from each other on glued down couches instead of typical car seats.

You finally make eyes with the member furthest to the back.

“Ooo, who’s that, Tomura?”, the one with blonde, spider lily shaped buns asks, pointed teeth revealed and glistening from the way her lips curve.

“New recruit”, Tomura says, palms guiding you to one of the seats diagonal of her.

“Is that who we came here for?” She tilts her head with the question.

“Not exactly, this place was just an unexpected detour”, he turns to you and then the rest of the group. “I’m going up front now, so you’ll have to get acquainted without me. Is that alright?”

You nod.

“Good”, he closes the door but leaves it open just enough for some light to pour in.

When your eyes adjust to the dim overhead lights, you catch a glimpse of the bubbly girl from earlier whose smile remains just as beaming.

“I’m Toga! Himiko Toga, you?”, she asks perkily.

You introduce yourself, then look toward the rest of the group. “And what about the rest of you?”

“I’m Twice”, says the masked man beside you, and in front of Toga. “Nice to meet you. No it’s not!” Even through the gray and black covering, you still see his awkward smile as he waves his hand apologetically.

“Dabi”, the one with black strands and charred, stapled skin across from you reveals upon noticing your gaze. “We’re also missing Compress and Spinner who’re up front.” His tone is more nonchalant than the others.

The truck engine ultimately roars for take off. It's a surprisingly quiet ride with many of their faces already worn with exhaustion from the distance they’ve previously traveled.

Gusts of wind breach through the small crack in the doors as they tremble from each divot and bump on the pavement that’s driven across. Noises of the city soon fill your ears; faint beeps from the cars of impatient drivers and shouting amongst pedestrians.

“Tomura!” Toga suddenly yells, arms beating against the front wall. “How much longer do we have left? I’m bored here!” She quickly gives up on her outburst though, throwing her head back against the chair in defeat and sighing heavily.

“I’m sure we’ll get there soon”, Twice reassures her. “No, we won’t. I mean—“

“I’ve got an idea!” Toga abruptly perks up. “You should ask us questions, newbie!”

“Like what?” You ask hesitantly.

Her smile grows even wider. “Anything. To get to know us and stuff.”

“Uh…How about…what brought you guys here?”

“Really? That’s a pretty lame question y’know.” Her smile droops in disappointment, but it quickly returns. “Try something like; where’s the best place to g—“

“I joined The League because of Stain”, Dabi finally answers, looking up at your inquisitive expression through his flared lashes. “I want to carry out his will, that’s all.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t interrupt people.” Toga flashes Dabi an icy glare. “That’s rude.”

“Well, the newbie wants to know”, he brushes her off, attention still remaining on

you. “Is there a reason you ask, by the way?”

“No–No, it's just part of getting to know you...”

“And what about you?” He lurches closer, folded hands and arms on his spread knees.

“Why'd you join The League?”

Your palms tighten reflexively. “I don't have as noble of a reason as you do, I was scouted by Tomura after all.”

He's silent, with an unreadable stare and tightly pressed lips, yet for a moment you wonder what answer he expected—but then he scoffs.

“Look, no one joins a group of villains for the fuck of it. I’m sure you’ve joined because you’ve faced injustice firsthand, why else?”

Injustice…

“Yeah…I guess you're right.”

His words never seem to leave your mind, even as the truck comes to a halt, and you’re stepping inside a tattered ex-restaurant building that's supposedly a villain hideout.

“The old base got raided a while ago, so we’re staying here for now”, Tomura clarifies upon seeing your dismay.

“So I'm guessing you guys move around a lot?” You survey the worn tables, the abandoned but empty cash registers and the

unevenly tiled floors.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” He sits at one of the counters–turned makeshift bar, and beckons you over.

“No, I was just thinking about my old place… and how I left it all behind now.” You sit beside him as he pours clear liquid into two shot glasses.

“You'll adjust eventually.” One of the glasses is slid to you.

“Yeah, I think any place is better than where I started.”

Tomura takes a swig of the liquor, downing the glass in one go. The rest of the area is empty except for the air, thick with dust and leftover debris.

You hear the faint crunch of wood under footsteps in the other rooms, but more importantly, occasional eruptions of laughter—so carefree, something you'd never expect from a band of criminals.

It reminds you they’re human even though society doesn't portray them as such.

“Where'd you live?” Tomura asks.

“I lived back at that place you found me, as one of their workers. It was okay if you ignored the lack of privacy and the irritating guests, but I hardly had anyone I knew there. Like sure, I lived with the same coworkers for a while, but I wouldn't call them friends or anything.”

“What about family?”

“No, I left them a long time ago.”

“Well, you’ll always have The League”, Tomura reassures you.

“Yeah…” You stare distantly at your untouched glass, swirling its contents slightly while mesmerized by the ripples that form from your movements.

“Is something wrong?”

You stop. “I’m not sure why you brought me here, you don't even know my quirk”, you say softly, but your eyes are still trained on the cup. “I can't see myself being of use to someone like you.”

“That kinda stuff doesn't matter to me, if it did I'd be no different from the heroes.”

He taps his finger against the wood a few times before speaking.“There's always something you can do to contribute to our cause, no matter how small it is.”

You sit beside him quietly as helps himself to more drinks, and though you usually loathe such silences, this one feels welcoming; a silence that wants to be filled but only if you'll allow it to.

“I don't know much about my quirk”, you inevitably admit, taking a miniscule breath to get over the initial shock of the words so easily slipping from your lips. “When it first activated, I was being—No, I was getting attacked, I should say. I’ll also add that the person responsible then had done it to me multiple times prior, but when I told anyone else about it they never believed me.”

Your teeth finally meet the rim of your glass so that the alcohol can scorch your tongue and the depths of your throat.

“So when they attacked me again, I wanted them to disappear for good.” Your tongue swiftly swipes across your lips. “I closed my eyes for a moment and my skin quickly became hot to the touch—I almost thought I was on fire.” Another sip is granted to your lips.

“Next thing you know, it actually happened. I opened my eyes and they disappeared, what remained was my body glowing and violet as a result, but it was only for an instant. And it's not only that, it also seems like a huge side effect of my quirk is memory loss in general, I’ve lost old memories separate from the event and I’m certain that has to be the cause of it.” You can feel the heat of Tomura's stare, which has never seemed to have left you, as he continues to listen intently.

“Ever since they disappeared, I can’t tell if they ever harmed me in the first place. I mean, physically, the evidence was there, but not the person who caused it.”

“When you say they disappeared, was it as if they never existed in the first place?”,Tomura questions, pupils dilated with intrigue.

“No, everyone else’s memories of them remained. I'm not sure whether they teleported or if they're just gone for good. Shit, I’m not even sure if what happened was actually a manifestation of my quirk because I haven’t used it since then.”

“If it is a quirk it’s pretty strong. My guess is that it activates whenever you have an overwhelming desire for something to disappear.” He pauses as if lingering on a thought. “And because it’s so powerful it requires a huge energy input, in this case, the energy of your neurons or memory.”

“Wow. That’s a well thought out guess.” You chuckle a bit. “Are you always good with these kinds of things?”

“I think it'd be weird if I wasn't”, he smirks.

“Right, since you’re a leader and all”, you return his smile before it eventually falters.

“But still, Tomura…If what you’re saying is true, my quirk only exacerbated my confusion about it all. It’s one thing to already be doubted by other people but it’s another to have a quirk that just so happens to help confirm those doubts…What if I was making it all up? What if my family was right and those things were just my imagination?”

Another silence instills, but it's far different from earlier, it's heavy and difficult to move in; you go rigid at the thought of making him uncomfortable or burdening him.

“I'm sorry. I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this—”

“Trust your instincts.” His tone is stern yet earnest. “If you say it happened then it happened. Don’t second guess yourself just because others are too scared to face the truth.”

You give him your biggest grin yet. “I really needed to hear that. Thank you.”

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

The next morning the hideout rooms are bare, aside from decrepit mattresses that were previously slept on.

The lack of orders from Tomura has you worried about your place among the other members as you start to wonder why you are the only one who was left out from the mission today.

From what he's already briefed you on, the gang has to lay low due to their notoriety—how you've never managed to hear of Japan’s most wanted is a mystery, but your association with them hasn't been recognized by the public yet.

That's gotta mean something, right?

What you can't do on the battlefield, you’ll do at the base, it could use some work after all, and cleaning is in order regardless of how temporary the location is. You can also run errands for the rest of them as you still have spending money left over from your job.

Your schedule for the day has been decided.

The current hideout is composed of the main dining room (hangout, also where Kurogiri sleeps?), break room (Toga, Twice), bathroom, second dining room (Spinner, Shigaraki), and basement (You, Dabi, Compress).

As of now, you're tidying chairs and removing trash from tables, nothing

over the top, but it would be nice if there was at least one broom to work with or more than just two trash bags laying around.

Room to room, floor to floor. You make your rounds though the base until you eventually arrive at the last area, or the second dining room, but it’s locked.

You’ve already done your best to keep the place clean, it shouldn’t hurt to leave one room untouched. Satisfied with your progress, you return to the basement to take a nap before everyone else arrives.

The mattress is dilapidated beneath you yet it still cradles your body comfortably, you briefly look up at the dusty ceiling and the cobwebs that nest between its planks.

With each turn against the covers, a damp aroma follows suit as it fans and swirls any lingering mold in the air, and stirs up the caked debris on the floorboards.

It's been hours since you've finished cleaning yet there's no sign of The League's return.

It's far too desolate for your liking, as if the world were completely empty, and all its inhabitants planned an intergalactic road trip without you.

What if they left you behind?

Or maybe you're the one who disappeared somewhere far away—to not be touched is to disappear, how else can one validate their own existence?

No, you mustn't think too hard about it.

You shut your eyes hoping your thoughts would do the same.

There has to be some kind of sound you can listen to besides the rising of your own breaths and the increasing thumps of your heart beats.

Why hasn't anyone returned already?

Your body has unknowingly started its frantic steps toward the basement stairs, you nearly ascend on all fours before tripping over the clumsy movement of your own limbs. Your head throbs at the intensity of its collision with decaying wood, you roll over onto your back, huffing from the wasted breaths of your attempt to flee the building.

It's too quiet.

And soon you can't even hear the disgruntled pants of your own breathing. It’s too quiet, and you've forgotten to breathe.

Is someone there? You stand up once more, walking along the halls with your weight pressed against the wall.

Is anyone else here? The door to the second dining room is open?

Tomura?

Your vision is blurred yet you make out the disheveled blue strands before you, vermillion irises just as piercing and captivating.

You weakly reach out for him, but it seems he’s already reached out for you as his fingers make delicate contact with your upper arms.

“I'm sorry—”, you begin, cut short by a stream of tears cascading down your cheeks. You sink to your knees and Tomura is swift to drop beside you. “I just wanted to make myself useful, but I felt alone and—”

“Calm down, you're not alone”, the hand on your shoulder grips you tightly. “I'm here, everything's fine. You're gonna be alright.”

You sniffle, looking up at him with glistening features and puffy eyes.

“I’m gonna go get you something to drink”, he says as he quickly rises to leave.

“Wait, don't go!”, you tug at the hem of his sweatshirt. “Please?”

Tomura sits back beside you quietly; the comforting silence you would always expect with him.

He stares ahead at the wall for a moment then occupies himself with his jacket zipper, pinkies raised as he trails along the black fabric, scanning it closely as if he's never worn the thing before.

It doesn't take long for your thoughts and breathing to return to normal.

“I’ve only ever been acknowledged through touch”, you finally murmur. “It gets lonely sometimes.”

Tomura hums softly.

“Am I a burden to you?”

“No.”

“I’m glad.”

“Tomura”, you turn toward him. “Don't tell the others about this, okay?”

“I won't.”

“Thank you.” Your head gently falls on his shoulder. “For everything.”

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Twice and Toga make a rather ceremonious return, while the remaining members trickle in afterward, going along with another one of their whims; this time a welcoming party for you.

Or so they say, but really Twice and Dabi just wanted an excuse to buy cheap booze and play party games all night.

The group forms a half-hearted circle for a round of Never Have I Ever; some camping out on raggedy benches while others remain tightly knit on the ground. But eventually, Toga leaves for bed early into the night while Compress leaves because such games are too childish for the likes of him.

You sit between Tomura and Twice, as you listen to Spinner drunkenly ramble about an insect he saw on the way back.

Condensation drips down your knuckles and into your palms while the cold bottle between your fingertips still fizzles way past the halfway mark.

“Ok, ok. Never have I ever—“, Dabi burps then giggles a little, staples aligned in an enthusiastic curve as the sound passes through his lips. It’s strange to witness him so bubbly and void of his usual demeanor.

“Get on with it already!” Twice finally snaps.

“I'm getting to it, alright”, Dabi takes another sip of canned beer then pauses. “Never have I ever…laughed so hard I wet myself.” The smirk on his face afterwards is smug and expecting of a reaction.

“Don't tell me…”, Spinner says, face crinkling with disgust.

“Seriously? Gross.” Tomura chimes.

“I'm kidding. I'm kidding.” Dabi’s head tips back to release another boisterous laugh. “I almost did.”

“Spinner, your turn”, Tomura nudges beside him.

Spinner rests his chin on one of his hands, tapping a pointer on his lips. “Never have I ever…played a romance visual novel game.”

“A what?” Twice says abruptly.

“Can’t you come up with a better one? No one even knows what that is”, Dabi scoffs.

If Spinner’s scales could convey a red hue, they would've. His eyes are drawn wide as if he regretted ever asking, he awkwardly scratches the back of his head before turning away.

“I do.” You raise your left hand with its pinky already placed down. “I've played a few of them back in highschool.”

“Really?” Dabi inquires, interest suddenly peaked.

You nod. “Yeah, it's usually story based and your choices determine which character route you get at the end.”

His gaze shifts to Tomura. “You too, Boss?”, he asks upon noticing Tomura's downed finger.

“Yeah, Spinner made me play.”

“Buncha’ nerds! I've got the next question!” Twice intervenes with a passionately waving hand. “Never have I ever been in love with someone way older than me.”

“I haven't”, Spinner says quietly.

“Older than you? Man, she's gotta be like fifty”, Dabi jokes.

“Nah, this was years ago.” Twice smiles weakly beneath his mask.

Dabi plucks deftly at his beer can tab and places it between his teeth. “What's the story?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“There's gotta be a story.” Dabi clumsily presses a finger to Twice’s chest. “You're the one who chose the question.” He taps between his words then pulls back.

“Nothin’ worth telling, just an old co-worker from 10 years ago…I haven't seen 'em since, but it was a wild ride. They cheated on me!”

“Oh, that sucks”, Spinner gives his best sympathetic glance amidst the awkwardness.

“Yeah…” Twice then releases a flat chuckle.

The group sits tensely for his next drunken confession, but it never comes.

“Never have I ever…”, Dabi breaks the silence. “...wanted to makeout with someone in this room.” His eyes shift to each and everyone’s shocked looks at the nerve of his question.

It stirs something hidden inside you. You’re surprised to find yourself watching Tomura from the corner of your eye, so as to not draw suspicion, and for some reason the sight of his 9 fingers still being raised makes your throat tighten.

It's not like you put your own finger down either. So why—

“Oh c’mon. Not a single one of you wants to put your finger down?” Dabi shakes his head.

“You didn't put one down either”, Spinner remarks.

“Yeah, perv!”,Twice intervenes as well.

“Well, me, I'm just tryna spice things up a little, but whatever.” Dabi shrugs. “Just know I see the way some of you look at each other.” He flashes another grin.

And that’s the most heated the questions get for the rest of the night.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Ever since Dabi’s prying, your eyes linger on the blue haired leader more often than they used to. Or maybe it was something you always did, but you never noticed—either way, those stolen glances at him whenever his attention was elsewhere become what you looked forward to.

He’s often tucked away in his room for most of the day, so the few moments he appears in the dining room, hair disheveled and hoodie hanging loosely on his shoulders, you brighten up.

You’ve unwillingly become a Tomura Shigaraki encyclopedia of some sort.

You know that when he first bites into things, he primarily uses his molars, parting his pale lips before skewing them to the side and sinking his teeth into it.

You also know that he’d make small abstract sketches into the table wood with his fingernails during meetings that go on for too long.

At first, his eyes never met yours as he was always immersed in whatever he was doing; whether it be writing or eating, but eventually your intense looks became enough to alert him.

He conveys a glint of pride as catches you, even smiling whenever you’d dart away and pretend fiddling with your hands was way more interesting than watching him.

Soon enough, it’s the only thing that ever occupies your mind, and before you sleep,

you wonder when things will ever be more than that.

And when he’d finally start to feel the same way about you.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

“I have an assignment for you”, a familiar rasp tugs you out of your thoughts and into the present.

“What is it?” You turn toward Tomura as he stands on the basement steps.

“I need a lookout.”

“But why me?” Your eyes cast sideways.

“Wouldn’t Spinner be better suited for something like this?”

“Does it matter? I’m asking you.” He walks further down then stops. “Plus you don’t stand out much, so you’re perfect for it.”

“Oh…”

“Come.” He turns to leave as usual, expecting you to follow.

The ride toward the destination is brief, if you could even call it much of a destination at all. It’s a miniature sized building of worn, faded bricks, many of the walls have already deteriorated and most of the windows are nonexistent.

You sit with Tomura amongst a thicket of trees, meticulously scanning the area for its owners or any other lurking parties with the same idea. It’s still daytime out yet you both are easy to spot even in the shady area behind one of the bushes.

“How’d you find out about this place?” You question Tomura but your voice never rises above a whisper.

“Doesn’t matter. They’ve got something I want.” Tomura impatiently rises from his knees.

“You’re raiding another hideout by yourself?” A tinge of worry finally makes its way into your words.

“Yeah, that’s why I brought you here.” He hands you some kind of receiver; black and with three color-coded buttons. “Press this twice to speak.” He points to the small blue button. “Let me know if you see someone coming, and I’ll let you know if I received it.”

“Wait”, you say harshly but quietly. “Are you sure about this?” You look around once more. “What’re you gonna go if they actually come back?”

“Don’t worry about it, just stay put.” He gives you one last affirmative nod then leaves without another word, toward the strange building.

Around twenty uneventful minutes pass with no signs of anyone returning. Your body jolts with every slight rustle of the grass and sudden clicks from nearby insects, but nothing more.

The area is suspiciously clear…

Just as you loosen your guard, a group of bandits approach the building from the far right; two of their faces are concealed with hoodies, while the other wears tacky shades and a lower face mask.

You hastily hold down on the blue button of the walky-talky. “Tomura, there’s people here—like 3 of them. Can you hear me?”

You wait fifteen seconds before trying to communicate once more.

“Tomura?”

Another silent fifteen.

“Hello?”

Still no reply.

Your stomach drops.

You have to do something, anything. Anything would be better than simply watching things unfold—you’re tired of being a spectator of your own life, you can't continue to remain a spectator now that someone you care for is in danger.

It takes a swift steeling of your gut before you’re trailing behind the strangers, pocket knife in hand but no plan of action. The heat of the moment isn’t always bad, instinct can sometimes prevail if the necessary talents were always dormant within you—but they weren’t…

Brisk, but subtle movements; you reach for the member furthest behind, pulling them to your chest before pressing the dull blade you have against their throat.

“M-make a move and I’ll kill him.” You stall, and the man stills in your grasp, without a word—yet, the rest of the group is unmoved by your threat.

“Really? You’ll kill him?”, the one with a gray beanie begins. Below his pointed nose, a smile tugs slightly at the corner of his lips while he reveals his palms to you in faux surrender. “Do it then.”

Your grip on the man loosens a little. “What?” You catch a glimpse of something

shifting in your peripheral but it's too late.

“Gaah—fuck—”, you curse as your head rattles from its collision with a wooden pole, and the man hurriedly slips from your hold.

Another abrupt smack comes from behind; you fall to your knees then your stomach, hands pressed against the sides of your skull to minimize the throbbing.

“You should really check your surroundings more”, a deep voice from above you quips, and a few snickers follow soon after.

“Who sent you?”, the man with a beanie asks.

You try your best to look up at the men with a strained neck. “ ‘m not telling—”

A boot toe is swung into the side of your abdomen and you curl inward from the impact; the pain is sharp as it bleeds into your ribs and stomach.

“Just tell us who sent you, alright?” Your collar is pulled up by another one of the men. “You here for the money too?”

“I dunno what…what…” The weight of your jaws is like lead as your mouth suffocates from nonexistent cotton. You can't even speak let alone try to save Tomura at this rate.

This'll only hold them off for so long but what will they do once they’ve had enough—or once they finally notice Tomura trespassing.

You attempt to lift your upper body with quivering arms but it's pointless, another strike to your chest has you back on the ground, helpless and panting as more consecutive blows come from each member.

Your eyes tighten and sting with tears, but things can’t end this way. You have to try, but at this point, they should all just—

They should all just—

Disappear.

Your skin sears with heat, while something courses through your veins at the speed of light—and you don't know what—but it leaves you jolting with each and every circulation.

Once it stops, you’re instantly rigid as you open your eyes to empty surroundings, the only evidence of the men’s presence is the boot marks across your skin and the bloodied beanie abandoned in the corner.

They're gone. They're really gone.

But your head thumps even greater than before.

“What are you doing here”, a recognizable hoarseness comes from above.

“Tomura, you’re here”, you murmur weakly, struggling to push your body upwards. “I couldn’t reach you and I got worried, so I came here myself.”

“What happened?” He drops beside you to lend a hand, straightening your torso.

Your arm remains secured over his shoulders as he holds you upright. “There was a group of them here just now, but I lost control—“ A warm fluid trickles down your nose and across your lips, you swipe at it, pulling away to examine the blood that’s poured from you.

“Hey, are you sure you didn’t overdo it?” His cracking features are stern as he observes you more closely.

“No-no, I’m fine.” You study your stained hands more closely. “I’ve forgotten something important and I don’t even know what…” You pause. “Do you believe me? That they were here?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He notices a glimpse of dismay in your eyes then surveys the room for something. “That over there”, he points to the discarded beanie from earlier. “This from one of the bandits.”

“Yeah, why?”

Tomura doesn’t answer, instead releasing you gently then walking over to it before placing it into your palm.

“Keep it.” He wraps your fingers around it firmly. “It’s proof of what's happened. A reminder of everything that's disappeared in your past too.”

“A reminder…” You stare quietly at what he's placed in your hands, then at Tomura’s eyes, and then the hands that remain on his body.

“Tomura…Don’t ever disappear on me please.”

“Hmm?”

You gently shake your head. “Sorry, just a feeling.”

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

For the next few days, you're out of commission, but Tomura would often visit you for a few hours to check up on how you've recovered from the side effects of your quirk.

Even then, you felt useless throughout it all, insisting on aiding The League despite your feeble state, but once you make a full recovery, Tomura asks to get snacks with you, claiming it'll cheer you up.

The gray beanie rests snuggly on your head, restored to its former glory after some washing and a bit of Tomura's efforts.

“Like a date?”, you ask Tomura after he's brought up the sudden inquiry.

“I'm not that cheap”, he replies as walks beside you up the basement steps.

You smile. “It’s not like I'd mind it if you were.”

He takes you to a local convenience store to ring up two bags of potato sticks, ohagi, and two melon-lime sodas, then he leads you down more cracked sidewalks and to a park bench.

The view from it is mesmerizing, swirls of lilac and tangerine merge in the sky and reflect across the murky waters. This river has never looked as pretty before, but it’s only ever as pretty as the sky makes it.

“It's pretty isn't it?” You ask faintly.

“Yeah.” Tomura takes a small bite of ohagi before licking his lips. “How's your quirk?”

“Fine, nothing’s happened since then.” You mimic his action, still staring ahead at ripples in the water.

He hums.

The ohagi is sweet on your tongue, and sticks behind your teeth while the sip of melon-lime soda you take afterward makes your cheeks pucker.

It's chilly out but you can't seem to mind the heavy breeze even as it glazes over your eyes and sends chills across your skin.

“No matter what I make disappear I’ll always be dissatisfied with the result”, you start, voice low and solemn. “I don't know, I just wish I could make things appear instead sometimes…”

“I could relate in a way”, Tomura begins. “I destroy what upsets me because it's all I’ve ever known to get rid of this itch I feel inside.” Tomura looks at his palms longingly before clenching them into fists. “But destruction is often necessary for creating something new.” He turns toward you. “Sometimes things need to disappear in order for the things you want to appear.”

His gaze lingers on you, soft and curious, before you finally return it. “Is that how you plan to build the future?”, you eventually question.

“The future?” He scratches at the base of his throat. “I guess I never cared for a future before the League. Their will is my will now.”

“So there's still no future you want just for yourself?”

“I didn't say that”, he mumbles softly.

“Then what is it—”

“What about you?” His stare is a bit darker than before.

Your mouth slightly gapes then closes. “Oh, well I'll accept any future as long as you're in it…” you say meekly, staring down into your lap as you thread your fingers with your own nervously. “I'm more curious about you though—”

His fingers grip the sides of your jaw

to face you toward him. For a moment, he only stares at your parted lips before finally making contact, and his mouth encloses around yours in a hot, breathless kiss.

His mouth still tastes sweet, with his teeth sliding gently across your bottom lip and nibbling softly on your tongue. It has you gasping for partitions to breathe, yet you also want to be brought closer—smothered in more of his warmth and affection.

But then he abruptly pulls away.

“Let's head back.” His thumb swipes your cheek gently, and you nod against his palm.

Tomura’s words are meaningful to you, and you're glad to hear more of them throughout the walk back to the hideout, hand in hand and smiling.

As you find yourself wanting to do more to embrace your quirk, you realize that he’s already upheld the promise he made to you when you first met;

He’s become your savior.

And despite still carrying reminders of his past across his body, he’s seemingly free of it, and you find that admirable.

You’re still scared of the journey that’s needed for gaining better control of your ability, especially its lasting effects. But how those lost memories will change you over time, is a question for the future.

As of now, you lay beside him in his room, with only the two of you, after Spinner swapped out his mattress with yours begrudgingly, and you press yours and Tomura’s together to form a shared one.

The night with him led to more meaningless talks about the future and the things you want to buy once The League gets money, it was going well…

All things were well, until you woke up amidst the early morning to a violent thrashing in your skull and dried blood caked under your nose, along with the ruby puddle it formed on your pillowcase.

But worst of all, Tomura’s bed was empty.

The door was still locked from the inside, so he couldn’t have left.

Did he…disappear?

In your gut, you know the answer but your psyche still fights against it.

The thought of secretly wanting him to disappear is the utmost betrayal, it’s stomach churning, your skin instantly goes icy at the idea—this can’t be what you have wanted. Maybe you know far less about your quirk than you think you do.

Yes, it all ties back to when you lost control, it has to.

You shouldn’t have used it that day, then this wouldn’t have happened—you were just stupid, he definitely could’ve taken care of himself back then.

This theory of your quirk growing more unstable from the one use satisfies you for a moment, but eventually your anxiety ridden mind starts to construct hypotheticals as to why you would want to get rid of him in the first place.

Maybe all along you felt as though you didn't deserve someone like him around you.

A part of you wants to remove everything around you in a blinded rage; make everything and everyone disappear until you’ve completely forgotten who you are.

Yet, you’re perfectly still and void of the energy to do so as you look over at his side with clouded vision; warm tears start to streak your cheeks and mix with the blood that has already stained them.

You wrap yourself in the blankets that were once warm from his skin, you reach over to hold his family close, in place of him not being there to do it.

The world is empty without him in it, and your senseless cries because of that are muffled by his very pillowcase.

It hurts.

And more than the pain you feel from sorrow, your overwhelmed with hatred, a complete despisal of yourself which grows with each passing second you stare dejectedly as the empty spot before you.

It hurts, but to sit here and mourn without thinking of changing things would go against everything he stood for.

You briefly eye the beanie he’s restored for you, snuggling it securely on your head as you remember just that.

You’ll have to collect yourself, if only for a moment.

If you want to bring him back, you’ll have to embrace this wretched quirk even more in hopes of undoing what you’ve already done.

It’s decided.

Your chilled fingers quiver as they swipe at the smeared fluid that’s begun to glisten your features, fingertips now tainted the slightest vermilion, you clean them on the nearest cloth to better gather your composure.

The salty, metallic trail that begins to smother your lips is the least of your worries, the rest of the League will find out at some point, and you can’t deny that you want to run away before that happens.

Your limbs are collapsed into a clumsy heap at the center of the room, your jittering muscles attempt to lash against the restrain of your determined mind, but you keep them hostage, waiting patiently still until the other members rouse.

What will they do now that their leader is gone because of you?

It’s suspicious that some nobody that was introduced no more than a few days ago was able to shift their hierarchy in a matter of hours.

You’ll be crucified—No, you’ll explain everything as calmly as you can manage, and maybe through the trembling of your voice and the remnants of your tears, they’ll believe that you never had it in you to intentionally harm someone you love.

The peace before the storm doesn’t last for long as the door’s hinges tremble before their inevitable creaking as a scaly-green head peers through the crack like a humble intruder.

“Sorry to bother '', Spinner starts, making his meek entry despite the lack of your acknowledgement, pointed fingertips clenched in awkward fists at his sides while his pink eyes shift across the floorboards. “I meant to get it last night, but I didn’t want to—“ His gaze travels upward and across the tousled but stained sheets along your body, then to abnormal streaks along your cheekbones.

His mouth parts to reveal a sliver of tightened teeth before swiftly closing. “Where’s Shigaraki?” He asks quietly, yet the whites of his eyes are glazed and nearly prodding from behind his lids.

You ball your palms as you brace for impact. “It’s complicated—“

“Holy shit. Did you guys get into a fight?” He scans your figure fully once more as if to confirm his hunch, but you’re quick to deny it.

“No! No, never…”, You reassure him but he doesn’t seem eased in the slightest. Your throat bobs harshly before your next words. “It’s my quirk—I think I may have—I-I think I’ve made him disappear…”

The silence that instills is enough to hear your restless heartbeat thumping against your ears; hasty and loud, your veins choked with blood as the stream unbridledly whips along its walls with each thud.

Thumping and thumping and thumping, then ringing, then thumping—and oh, god—why won’t he say something already?

His glossy, pink irises are locked on yours unmoving, but that’s all. Not a word nor a gasp, but a look you’ve yet to place.

“You what?”Spinner inevitably breaks the silence with an unexpectedly soft tone—so calm you hardly notice as his hands trail slowly toward the branch of knives tightly secured to his back. “Don’t move—“ He shouts once the weapon is unsheathed and it nearly swipes against the tip of your chin.

Your balance swiftly shifts to the back of an elbow, curling away from the glistening blade before you. “W-What?”

“Don’t fucking move!” he repeats, his resolve is affirmed in that moment.

Rushed footsteps can be heard distantly as they trail down the hall to approach the source of the racket before ending at the doorway, just behind him.

With Dabi to his left, and Twice to his right, they peer through the crowded opening, heads tilting to and fro to make sense of the scene you’ve unwillingly made yourself the spotlight of.

It’s over.

Your skin flushes with ice at the villains you previously had no issue being among, as it’s different once you’re finally on the other end of the blade.

Eyes damp with tears, you silently shake your head as a final, small act to sustain your innocence.

“Yo-yo! What’s going on?” Twice is the first to speak, looking at you then Spinner then you again.

“Tell them what you did!” Spinner shakes the blade with each word and you recoil.

You gulp. “I may have used my quirk to make Tomura disappear—but it was an accident I swear!” Your attention is drawn between the two that have joined him in hopes that they'd be more understanding, yet confusion is still plastered on their faces.

“What do you mean by “disappear”?” Dabi steps forward with his scarred palms flexing as if he’s ready to strike.

“I don’t know. I don’t understand it yet, but I think I can bring him back, you just have to trust me”, you plead once more.

The group gives each other silent glances, then Spinner gives an indirect order with a small nod of his head, and the two step forward to close the distance around you.

“Now, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Dabi gives a menacing gleam with his words before lunging near you and securing your arms.

Spinner seems to have left the room while the other two are quick to gather your limbs and place you on a wooden chair you were unaware existed to the far left of the room.

He swiftly returns with tape and rope to finish binding you to the chair and floorboards.

“You two stay here and watch, I'll let the others know”, Spinner orders before hurriedly taking off.

However, Dabi follows suit despite his demands.

“Hey man, got a hot date or something? I mean, where do you think you’re going?” Twice gives an accusatory point in his direction.

“I’m not babysitting. I’ve got better things to do, so just make a clone or whatever.” Dabi turns the corner before he can refute.

Twice drags a hand across the lower half of his features in frustration before complying begrudgingly to produce a clay-like figure that transforms into a replica of Dabi.

He then updates the clone on your situation so that the two can stand guard, bickering and complaining for what feels like a half hour. Although, they never seem to address you.

You eventually feel something thick lodged at the base of your throat, shooting upward to spurt from between your teeth, while the taste of it is suffocating as it reeks of bile and sewage but has the consistency of slime. Your limbs flail beneath its holdings in response to the lack of air, attempting to claw the sludge away but to no avail.

When it’s abruptly removed from your body, you’re able to take in the sudden change of scenery; a windowless laboratory of rows of tall vials with foreign creatures submerged in some strange liquid within them.

It’s a cinematic rendition of an over the top villain hideout that surrounds you and leaves you gawking—but the most pressing matter of all is the bald, old man that accompanies you as he sits beside a computer screen and stares at you behind glaring lenses.

The screen flickers to life to portray an indiscernible image. “When I got the details of this new recruit, I expected trouble. But this…”, a deep voice emits behind the static of the picture. “Is outside of my expectations.”

“Yes, quite troublesome at first glance, but I can assure you that things aren’t as dire as they may seem”, the man with glasses adds, hands folded across his lap as he assesses the situation. “From what I’ve been told, it looks to be a teleportation quirk of some sort, but what I’m stuck on is the memory aspects of it…Nonetheless, evidence of Tomura Shigaraki’s existence still remains, otherwise a quirk capable of erasing one’s presence wouldn’t have existed until the next generation or so. Well, if you trust my theory of course.” The man’s eyes remain on your frightened form.

“Yes, I trust you’ll see this through to the end without me”, the other voice states calmly. “Counting on you, as always, Doctor…” The screen finally goes black, and you assume the man has left.

“Now, let’s get the full picture, shall we?” The “Doctor” continues once the two of you are alone.

“Who are you?” You ask a question of your own as you were never told of these two strange members by the others.

“Who I am isn’t important, you want to bring back Tomura don’t you?”

You nod.

Well, whoever they are, they seem to know Tomura personally, so you’ll have to trust them for now.

You give your best summary of what happened the morning you woke up to his disappearance and emphasize the similarities it had with the others that vanished as well; the bloodied nose and feverish skin with each use of your quirk.

“And I’m guessing you can’t use it on command, correct?” He questions upon hearing the details.

You nod once more.

“It’d be possible for me to forcibly activate it, but alas I have no way of knowing how it works.” The doctor turns his chair toward the array of keys behind him and begins fiddling with them. “But, I have a solution.” He presses a final red button, and that suffocating liquid from earlier returns to your sternum.

When you come to, your bindings are released, and the scenery has changed, just as you expected.

All sides of the room are covered in huge white tiles, with a devastating lack of furniture and a just as bland bathroom door to the very right of you.

Though, these details are easy to ignore, once you spot one of those horrid beasts from before, stalking at the furthest end of the room, twitching brain exposed and beak-like mouth smothered in drool.

Its protruding eyes are inquisitive as it approaches you in a prowling stance, navy palms bared and itching to get you in its grasp.

Your stomach swoops heavily at the sight, and your legs are soon to follow behind it.

“W-Wait—I said I’ll fix things! I just need time!”, you screech, toppling defeatly to the ground as the beast towers over you, the scorching musk of his breath contrasts the chill of your skin. “Don’t kill me! I’m sorry—please, I’ll do anything!” You continue to holler more empty cries into an unwavering void, clenching your eyes shut as if it’ll lessen the damage somehow.

And to your surprise, the sound of his panting is gone, the air feels stilled as if he’s absent.

Did it work?

You part your eyes slowly to find the room is empty, but your relief is short-lived.

“You’d have died had I not intervened, are you sure you want to live?” The doctor’s voice comes from a radio intercom in the top corner of the walls.

“Yeah, but things don’t always go the way I plan”, you reply softly.

The doctor is silent.

“So, what now?” you ask.

He clears his throat. “I’ll take a few blood samples and then you’ll need to be isolated until you get things under control.”

“Is the lab work really necessary—“ you start, but a boxy machine with a syringe at the tip pricks you before you can process it. “Ouch!” The machine teleports away as swiftly as it came.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to be asking questions”, he warns, you hear faint clicking of buttons in the background.

A miniature version of another one of those creatures appears, standing docilely along the wall furthest from you and staring your direction. “The one in the room now won’t do anything without my command, but it’s at your disposal. Use it to train as you see fit.”

“Is that it? Am I really supposed to do this alone?”

“Well, you’re the wielder of the quirk aren’t you?”

“I guess so.”

A sleeping bag and small flip-phone suddenly appear beside you. “All updates are to be given through this device, anything else is unnecessary, understood?”

“Yes”, you reply timidly at how fast things are going.

“Well, that’ll be all. I expect progress, but do know that time isn’t on your side”, the doctor adds.

“What happens if I don’t do it in time—“

You hear blaring static.

Great, you think to yourself.

You’ve had your whole life to train your ability but you ran away from every opportunity you had to hone it. Being cautious has done more harm than good, but it’s not like you ever had the environment to explore your quirk safely—until now…

Is it too late to start from the beginning? To take the time to unleash your full potential without your own mental restraints?

You’re unsure, but it’d be nice to at least have examples to go off of, after all, you’ve been left alone in a room to your own devices, and without any guidance from the rest of the members.

Do they actually care about their leader or do they trust in him enough to return despite the circumstances?

A heavy sigh escapes you.

Maybe you should try meditating.

You sit cross-legged in the center of the room, staring up at the lack of intricacies on the ceiling, attempting to clear your mind of anything other than bringing Tomura back.

You imagine the messy wisps that were splayed across his pale forehead the brief night you laid beside him. You think about wanting to create that moment once more, but somewhere you can have him all to yourself.

He’ll be back. He’ll be here any minute now.

Your eyelids shut gently as you wait for a surge of power to wash over you.

But that moment never comes…

Your throat bobs tightly with the building sting of your eyes, while your tongue goes dry from misery.

What are you doing wrong?

Your fingers swipe at the warm liquid that seeps from your nose, but it isn’t blood.

Why isn’t this working?

You crawl defeatedly toward the cheap sleeping bag you’ve been given, collapsing in it only to be pressed uncomfortably to the floor, adding fuel to your already festering disappointment.

Your palms reach up for the soft fabric band of the beanie around your head for comfort.

You go to sleep hoping that just like last time your quirk would manifest itself subconsciously through the night.

Yes, you can only hope…

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

The next morning begins with the clashing of bells, an ear-grating sound that comes from that flip-phone you were given—which you initially think is an alarm before spotting a blank contact on the answer/decline screen.

You click the uppermost green button.

“Hello?” A rasped voice on the other end of the line speaks.

“Hello? I thought this thing was only for updates”, you huff, frustrated now that your sleep has been disturbed.

“Well, I’ve got a pretty big one, I’m just not sure if you realized it yet.”

There’s a hint of a smile behind those words, one you’re quick to place as belonging to the very man you’ve been searching for.

You gasp. “I’m so glad to hear it’s you!”, you nearly shout into his ears. “Are you hurt? What happened? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, when I came to I was way outside of the hideout but I was able to get in touch with the League eventually”, Tomura explains.

“So, you’re safe. You don’t know how much I’ve missed your voice.”

“It’s only been a few days.”

“Yeah, but I thought I’d never be able to hear it again.” You hold the phone tighter against you. “I really want to see you…Is that ok?”

There’s a long pause before he speaks. “Of course, I’d be with you right now, but I can’t.”

“Oh, right…It’s still dangerous to be around me until I can get things under control—“

“No”, he says sharply. “I’m not scared, but I think it’s your quirk that’s stopping me.”

Your brows crinkle slightly. “How so?”

“There’s this invisible barrier around you that’s almost a kilometer thick, and I’m the only one who can’t get through, not even with Warp Gate.”

You tap a finger to your bottom lip. “Oh, I see. So, that must be the extent of my ability. Like a radius”, you chime, a bit relieved to get a better understanding of it.

“Right, now that you know more about it it should be easier to use. I can even help you.”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate that”, you say softly, heat flushing your cheeks despite something so trivial.

“That room you’re in right now, is it comfortable?” He asks with a hint of concern in his voice.

“Not really, but I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, but an actual mattress would be nice.”

“Got it. They’re not treating you badly, are they?”

His consideration puts you at ease. “No, I think they were quite lenient given that I almost got rid of their leader”, you say with a slight giggle.

He sighs jokingly. “Fair enough. But, I don’t want us to run out of minutes right now. I’ll be sure to call you later today.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“I know, but you’ve already been so strong. It’ll only be a bit longer.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “Bye. I lo—“ No, you’ll wait to tell him in person. “Bye, talk to you later.”

“Bye.” He says lastly before the line ends with a final click and you're back to the bleak reality ahead of you.

Shortly after your call, spare clothes and a tray of food appears; two crisp sandwiches, an orange, and a juice box, which you bring to your lap with hastiness.

You feel as though you’ve forgotten something important, but you decide to put it past you, chowing down the meal despite the stirring in your gut never relenting.

You have too much to do, so you’ll continue to put your worries aside for the time being.

The rest of your day is spent doing more half-hearted meditation, and attempting to make conversation with the only other living being in the room, though it never responds.

“What are you?” You question the pale creature, but it seems as if it glances through you, unaware of your presence at all.

Luckily, your boredom subsides when the flip phone rings to life, and you briskly snatch it up at the second chime.

“Hey, how’re things going?” The voice on the other end asks casually, but with curiosity.

“Hey, T—“ You pause with your nails sinking repetitively into your thighs as you wrack your mind for answers.

T? Who were you talking to again?

“What’s wrong?”

“Your name. I can’t remember it, it’s on the tip of my tongue. T-t-t—“

Your lungs fight to keep up with the speed of your breaths, a violent pounding beats within your skull, blood swishing through your veins like grains of sand have replaced your cells.

“Tomura”, the voice says firmly, but without malice.

Tomura.

“It’s ok, I’ll tell you as many times until you remember”, Tomura reassures you, quietly.

How could you have forgotten?

“Tomura. Tomura, I’m so sorry”, you nearly fumble over your words, yet this panicked gathering of your thoughts is one you’re overly acquainted with.

And the realization is quick to strike; This has already happened before.

“It’s fine.” Tomura attempts to change the subject. “Tell me about your progress today—”

“I think I’ve got it”, you blurt upon gathering how you’ve failed to recall your conversation with him from earlier. “Now that I talk to you, I realize what may have happened in the past with the first person I used my quirk on. Any new memories relating to after their disappearance were short-term and quickly forgotten.” You briefly consider how Tomura’s name previously slipped from your mind. “Except now, I feel as though my quirk has evolved; I can’t create any new long term memories of the person that disappears, and the memories I lose have become more direct to the person who disappeared.” How long has it been since you’ve told Tomura of your past? “I don’t even remember the moment I first used my quirk anymore, the person has disappeared from my mind, but the anxiety lingers. I still feel the initial dread I felt when they were around, I just don’t know who’s causing it.”

You hear distant scraping of nails against skin. “So what I thought was initially a quirk that used memories as an energy source was always a calculated manipulation of a disappeared person’s existence—down to the circumstances needed to activate it. What do you feel right now?”

“What do you mean?” You feel as though the question is sudden.

“Maybe you still feel that dread of wanting someone to disappear but the fear was misplaced onto me.”

Your expression shifts with fascination. “It makes sense, but I could never see myself getting rid of you even if the feeling is misplaced. The feeling had to have been fleeting.”

“I know, but you have to consider the possibility. What else is there to go off of?”

You nod a bit to yourself. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

The call inevitably concludes after more banter about how you’d recreate the circumstances necessary for activating your quirk, and with Tomura’s suggestions still fresh on your mind, your duties as a test subject continue.

So, the night before he disappeared…how did you feel…

The cellphone chime breaks the silence.

You quickly press the phone to your ear. “Tomura—“

“Hey, is this a good time?” The voice this time is different, more shaky and uncertain.

“Yeah, you’re good. And this is…?” You hesitantly ask.

“Spinner.” Spinner?

“Oh, then, what’s up?”

“Listen, I just wanted to apologize for how I treated you at first”, he slowly begins. “You seem really important to Shigaraki, and I didn’t realize it at the time. I feel like a total asshole.”

“No-no, I get it”, you say in an attempt to comfort him. “I definitely wouldn’t have trusted me either. I looked like a complete mess at the time.”

He gives a small sigh of relief.

“Is Shigaraki important to you too?” You ask meekly, while idly twirling the hem of your clothing. “I mean—forget it, I feel like it’s pretty obvious since he’s the leader and all.”

“No, that's not the case for everybody, some don’t view him in the same light as you and I, but I guess you could say there’s still a mutual level of respect among all the members.”

“Oh, I see…” You briefly wonder about Dabi’s relationship with Tomura.

“Yeah, so let me know if you need anything. I may not be of much help, but there may be something I can do for you that no one else can do already.”

You smile. “Thanks, I’ll remember that. It was nice meeting you—err, again.”

“Yeah, you too. See you around.”

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

With each memory that fades, does a part of you fade with it?

It’s complicated, you think.

Experiences become instinct, as the actions you perform are the same, just without the memory being tied to them anymore.

The next day, you awake expecting a call from someone you’ve yet to remember.

You love them. Yes, you love them but does that love matter if you can’t recall the reasons the love has blossomed in the first place.

Your hands scramble for the phone as soon as it rings, but it doesn’t lift the weight off your chest like it used to.

“Hey, it’s me again”, the rasped voice says closely to the built-in microphone.

“I’m sorry, I know I should know this already, but, who is this?” You ask reluctantly. Each second of silence that passes is aching, but underneath the heaviness of your chest, you feel a sense of safety, as if the question is welcomed to be asked regardless.

It’s instinctual.

“I’m Tomura Shigaraki. The one with the blue hair, and red eyes…” he says patiently, then pauses. “The one you like.”

“Tomura…” Your heart is filled as the name passes through your lips. “Tomura, I’m so sorry. I—“

“It’s fine, remember. I’ll tell you as many times so that you’ll never forget me.”

“Right, thank you.” You hold back a sob, swiping the gathered tears that haven’t made it down your cheeks.

“Y’know Kurogiri advised me to leave you alone”, he continues, and his tone is more solemn. “He says it’s for my own sake, that speaking with you like this will only lead to more heartbreak, but I just can’t…I can’t leave you alone, and even if you forget me, I’d still remind you everyday and pretend as if you never forgot.”

“Tomura. I-I won’t forget this time, I promise.” Your words are shaky as your sniffles become more frequent.

“It’s fine”, he reassures you some more. “I’ll call you tomorrow just like always, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

The click of the line cutting is enough to release the tears you’ve held back since the beginning of the call, starting with slow drips then evolving into heavy streams and branching salt trails.

You cough muffled cries into your pillowcase until your brain throbs tightly from the tension behind your eyes, and your throat is thick with snot and drool.

Your insides hollow with each breath you take without him beside you.

How can you bear it any longer?

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

It’s been days since you’ve lost recollection of the person you’ve been yearning to bring back. Your only sense of comfort comes from a silvery gray cap you hold to your chest tightly whenever your pillow can’t fulfill its role of a proper cuddling partner.

Every now and then you place it on your lap only to be entranced by the mesmerizing zigzag pattern of its stitches and thinning threads unraveling at its edges.

You think the stagnation of your training and the lack of stimuli has altered you enough to find such a frivolous object important to you.

Though…it doesn’t hurt to keep it around.

When you receive an envelope one morning, the husk of your memories is still set alight, with your delicate fingers brushing over the letters inside, and passion flowing through your veins at the familiarity of the handwriting of your lover.

The words read as such:

If you’re reading this letter, my calls weren’t enough to reach your heart, so I write to you instead.

You’ve forgotten me, but no matter what, I’ll never hold it against you, as we’re torn apart by things out of our control but I know it’ll work out in the end.

I’ve decided to exclude most details of my identity this time around.

Why? Because, I don’t think you’ll be needing it anymore, after all, I trust in the strength of your ability to overcome this short-lived obstacle.

I saw this potential in you from the beginning, and it won’t waver now that our fate is suddenly in your hands.

Though, I’m sorry if it seems as though you’re fighting alone. I wish to be by your side again, and I know you feel the same.

Forever yours,

Tomura.

Upon reading it, you feel different.

Tomura’s heartfelt message stirs a sense of longing within you, but more prominently, an unforeseen chill in your veins, your fear-stricken nerves are tangling about with blazing electricity coursing through them.

This dread is one you’ve long grown accustomed to, but is it right to feel it at this moment?

Speaking of, the night he disappeared, you felt the same way—you just hadn’t realized it yet.

Yes, you get it now…

You were so afraid of losing him that you beat the universe to it.

Now that he’s gone, the anxiety you feel now can’t be any more relieving than if he were to be present and capable of leaving you behind.

At least then he’d console you with more heartfelt words against your separation.

At least he’d be here.

Here.

Why can’t he be here?

An eye-watering pulse suddenly thumps against your brain, swift and sharp, you curl over and grip your knees as if it’ll distribute the pressure to the opposite end of your body and away from your head.

Beneath your skin is a glowing purple pool of fire, scorching the cells deep enough to your bones, while your nose drips crimson of the same heat.

Memories of Tomura surge through your synapses at the speed of light as you begin to vividly recall each minuscule detail of your shared moments; like the quirky way he eats his ohagi, and the jagged curl of his lips when he smiles.

When it all subsides, you’re left panting against the tile staring up into the featureless ceiling—but your lips can’t help turning upward with a pleasureful sigh passing through them.

You lurch to your bed once you’ve caught your breath, swiftly reaching for your phone and dialing at the bright green contact you were provided.

The buzzing before the call leaves you tossing and turning across your mattress in anticipation, but his answer never arrives.

Though, as you disappointedly ring his line once more, you’re interrupted by a tall swirl of dark violet parting before you to reveal pale blue wisps peeking through its opening and the lanky body that follows it outward.

Tomura.

You enthusiastically rise to your feet to meet his piercing eyes. “How did you know?” you question, brows raised and mouth parting with wonder.

He brings you tightly into his hold. “I don’t know, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders”, he whispers into the crook of your neck, raising bumps on the delicate skin there while his hands stroke the sides of you tenderly, cupping your skin into his palms easily.

“It’s been a while”, you pull away to meet his gaze. “I haven’t forgotten how much I love you, and I never will”, you say sweetly with a small smile—one he mimics before going nose-to-nose to close the gap.

“Show me how much you’ve missed me.” His mouth brushes against yours teasingly at first, peppering kisses and small nibbles along the sides, then meshing completely to form a hot tunnel between you.

A faint taste of salt lingers on his tongue as it glides along the grooves of your teeth as if your mouth were molded for his entry all along.

The heat of his exhales becomes your main source of air, his presence gives you life.

You’re slotted on your mattress, beneath him as his body rocks into you with a dizzying but intoxicating strength, leaving you choked at the sudden change in position.

Even a slight fleck of his touch is overflowing, enough to last you a lifetime if he were to drop you this very moment and leave you begging.

But with his compassion, you’re overcome with greed—a simple press of skin has you waiting for more with bated breath.

“Touch me more, please”, you plead when you’ve grown tired of his toying, and the moment away from his lips feels like an eternity.

The curve of your spine follows each movement of his hands as he begins to strip you bare. His clothes follow suit, and your lips are drawn to his collarbone, placing fleeting pecks along the scarred flesh then suckling harsh enough to leave bruises.

His taste is addicting despite being faint enough to miss. The stimulating feel of his skin against your tongue will be imprinted in your mind for as long as you live.

He pulls away to leave a trail of kisses along the side of your cheek. “I need to feel you”, he moans breathily into the cusp of your ear, then sinks his teeth into the fleshy lobe, lathering your skin with warm spit which cools with each fan of breaths.

His deft fingers start to pry your sex, already slick from his earlier affections and pulsing with a desire to be filled. He swipes between your folds before circling the pad of his thumb around your twitching clit as it begins to pebble and harden from his calculated ministrations.

His eyes never leave yours as he takes in each of your expressions, watching with an intensity that sends arousal directly to your core and has you gasping and squirming beneath him.

“Wanna feel you inside of me”, you whine, desperate from being wound up by his hands.

He removes his fingers momentarily to slurp on your juices, obscenely taking them into his mouth then catching the stray dribbles with his tongue, all the while continuing to stare at you more intensely.

He then uses your combined fluids to further lubricate the glistening, pink tip of his cock, before he slowly prods the first ring of your opening.

The stretch when he bottoms out has you clamping around it instantly as the girth and shape rubs against your most sensitive spots, prickling the areas with mouth-watering precision and pumping the spasming vessels aflame.

His thrusts are slow and deep, ensuring each divot of your insides is given attention, and is repeatedly stroked until your pelvis subconsciously wreaths to match his movements.

As you bring his panting mouth back to your lips, you cup your hands to his cheeks before embedding them in the waves of his hair, and tugging slightly as his assault sends sharp tingles throughout your nerves.

Your kisses are slick of drool, with your blissful haze denying your mind of any remaining coherence. You thoughtlessly engulf his lips as if his breath were what you needed to live.

You part for air with a hint of reluctance. “I’m close”, you cry out to the best of your ability, unable to resist the growing tightness in your gut.

“Cum for me”, he coos into you while harshly returning a finger to your neglected nub.

“Cum around my cock, and I’ll give you the world”, he continues, and you’re sent hurtling toward the peak of your climax, thighs constricting around his hips and heels pressing firmly into his lower back.

Avid declarations of love pour from between your teeth as your eyes water from his unrelenting thrusts into your overstimulated sex.

He groans softly while your walls still convulse around his length, pulling ropes and ropes of cum from the throbbing head until it drips along the sides of your hole, down your folds.

He collapses beside you, sweat-damped cheeks pressing against your glistening forehead before he pulls his lips to yours in a final searing kiss.

“Be sure to remember this”, he murmurs lastly into you.

You’ll never let him disappear again.

#shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #tomura shigaraki imagines

[his-lune]

☾ shigaraki tomura masterlist ☽

-`♡´- key -`♡´-

angst (a) ;; fluff (f) ;; smut (s) ;; crack (c)

☾. one shots

ᯓ★ coming soon...

☾. series

ᯓ★ coming soon...

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader imagines #shigaraki x reader fic #shigaraki x reader fanfiction #shigaraki x reader oneshot #shigaraki imagines #shigaraki oneshot #shigaraki fic #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura imagines #shigaraki tomura oneshot #tomura shigaraki imagines #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki oneshot #shigaraki masterlist #shigaraki tomura masterlist

[orochiposting]

“I can fix him dw” [drill sounds] {screaming} [chainsaw revving]

#i can fix him #madara uchiha #obito uchiha #naruto orochimaru #orochimaru #f/o #f/o community #imagine your f/o #sterling archer #adam hazbin hotel #rick sanchez #shigaraki tomura #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #professor stein #stein soul eater #mahito #mahito jjk #tag your faves #tag your f/o #hazbin vox #naruto akatsuki #akatsuki #hidan #hidan akatsuki #shitpost #text post #text #my text #800 notes

[justanotherfangirlwup]

Well, he tried.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki #my draws #tomura #tomura shiragaki #league of villains #tenko shimura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #tomura x y/n #tomura x reader #tomura x you #bnha #mha

[yanderenightmare]

Nasty alpha wolf-boy Shiggy buying virgin bunny reader at a shady auction, taking her home and breeding her silly in all her tight bunny holes<3

BNHA ! THIRST

Shigaraki Tomura x darling

WC: 2.5k

TW: NSFW, captive darling, light bondage, oral giving/receiving, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, hybrid au

Shigaraki doesn’t get along with most other organizations aside from his own, but he could hold a certain respect for this establishment. He felt appreciated here – a valued customer – one with a hungry appetite the vendor saved only the very best herbivores for.

Herbivores like you.

“She was easy to tame- submissive like she was made for it!” The Master said. “A bit too submissive for my taste- but you know what they say about bunnies- cute like a button and just as dumb!”

Your thighs rubbed themselves where you stood in the dark of your blindfold. Bleating and cowering in the chastity belt they’d fixed tight around your lower body – having you sheathed on two thick cocks stretching out both virgin holes – making you drippy – vibrating inside you with purrs tickling your core in thrums he could hear from ten meters away.

“Stuff her in the trunk and take her home if you want- she’s so soft around the edges and pumped with hormones she won’t mind the bumpy road. You could take her right here on the concrete, and all she’d do is just moan!”

He could smell it in the air – how heated you were. Sopping like a braindead whore – he bet you’d been stuck in that chastity belt for hours, as sweaty and trembling as you were. Unstable were you stood in pink pumps soaked full of the slick running down your thighs – only managing to stand thanks to the big bodyguard behind you. He was a beastly fucker, squeezing one of your tits tight in a big bear paw while fisting your leash like a noose in the other, pulling the thick black collar kept snug on your throat only to feel your plush ass rub against his crotch.

The way your arms were cruelly bent behind your back was of no help to your balance either, making your perky tits strut forward. Stiff nipples begging for a suck or a twist or a slap – sculpted a bit by an additional harness shaped like a bra with no filling – just thin black leather lines extenuating that on display.

“My hunters swear she’s a pure little thing, so normally I would demand you pay extra-”

Two black heart-shaped eyepatches had you blindfolded but were kept lenient enough to allow tears to soak through, layered damp on your cheeks and giving a pretty plump bloat to your lips – sucking on the pink ballgag stuffed in your mouth, fastened tight around your head – making all your noises come out wet and even more feeble.

“But she’s yours free of charge if the league handles some business for me~”

Your lop ears drooped sadly down your cheeks, framing your cute face like a picture where your little nose kept wrinkling in terribly adorable sniffles – squealing on what he could tell was another ride over the edge.

“Deal.” He barked shortly, a growl in his throat.

The Master grinned. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Shigaraki.” Tossing him the keys to the lock on your cunt before snapping his fingers, gesturing for the bodyguard to do the same with the leash – pushing you in a wobbling stumble over to your new owner.

And then he really felt you tremble – soft yet stiff, bracing yourself against him – the smell of utter terror and arousal so thick he found himself drooling just at a single close whiff – all the hair on his tail spiked on strict end as a hunger growled low in his gut.

He felt his pants grow taut and gave a hiss – shoving you on your stomach in a sprawl onto the backseat. Throwing your legs inside before slamming the door shut – putting his fingers to his lips – your slick wet on them, glossy and sweet in his nose like a perfume as he licked them clean while getting in the car.

“Drive.” He muttered in another curt growl, signaling the man to his side to turn the keys as he pawed the straining tent bumping his boxers with yet another hiss.

Huffing, he closed his eyes, listening to you nom on your gag with wet cries and moans – his chest tight and brows furrowed – cursing having said yes to clean up another organization’s mess, and even more frustrated with your scent hanging heavy in the air, making everything spin for him – until finally reaching the base.

“Get out, Binky- welcome to your new home.”

He tugged your collar again soon after the car stopped, and out you shuffled – sweaty and shivering on legs that could barely hold their own weight – supported by the hand he had raked in your hair, pulling and dragging your body out into the cold.

Letting go once you were out of the backseat, he started fisting the leash instead, yanking you forward with heels clicking in no steady rhythm – wonky on the ground where you struggled to keep up with him. Slick between your thighs, rubbing together as you walked.

You were still blindfolded – floppy ears shifty at the sounds of doors opening and slamming shut, along with the threatening cheers of the crowd of villains drinking in the rooms the two of you passed. It’s as though he can hear you praying, hoping that he’s not planning on sharing you with the rest of the fray the way you flinch at the whistles and filthy comments being thrown your way.

You sped up until your tits bumped into his back – walking close with your head bowed to shield yourself.

Splitting a grin, he chuckled out a low snort. He hadn’t thought you’d be so silly to seek his comfort. But dumb as it was, his cock seemed to find it unexpectedly pleasant.

Reaching his room, he fished for his key – hands unsteady, tongue gracing his fangs as he unlocked it before stepping inside. Hauling you behind him into the musty space where he at once pounced on you like a predator who’d finally lost all patience. 

Paws with claws gabbed your tit with a force that made you stumble – almost fall if he hadn’t tugged you back by your leash. His tongue ran wet over the sweet drool dripping down your neck and chin – his canines close to your neck, making you shiver and bleat for him while his hand dropped down to cup your sex. 

Stopping short at the thick feel of latex beneath his fingertips, he growled and shoved you in a toppling wobble until your back hit the soft embrace of the bed behind you. You met it with a bounce and a yelp smothered in your gag – and he followed quickly, crawling on top of you with the key in hand. Carefully caressing the lock on your belt – thinking it would be a shame to destroy it when he could make use of it later. He would need to keep you protected if the way everyone eyed you was any indication. After all, he couldn't expect a base crawling with only carnivores to resist the scent of a herbivore as sweet as you.

He turned the key in the hole and pulled the cruel construction down your thighs, and you gave a whine, hips bucking at the release, quaking at the empty feeling while he eyed the lewd mixture of slick clinging in pretty bridges between the two closing holes and the two glossy rubber cocks still wet and warm with your heat. 

“You make quite a slutty mess for a virgin.” He teased, with two of his coarse fingers dragging up your slick clit – gleeful eyes watching you squirm while releasing a strangled sound caught between a moan and a scream – riddled with overstimulation to the point you were cumming in spasms from only the single little touch.

He only chuckled at the sight. Leaving you to pant and quake beneath him – with shakey breaths anticipating the painful pleasure of his touch once again. 

“Sensitive, scared, horny- tortured by your own fickle hormones and instincts- I know what you want…” He continued, now with the words leaving hot puffs against the slick skin on your thighs. “You want this teensy little rabbit hole destroyed by the big bad wolf….”

Your whimpers were like a symphony – sweet and softly tuned to strum every string in his gut – purring and stirring something sticky and heavy and starving inside of him.

“Look at this pussy….” He groaned with a click of his tongue – his eyes set on the wet puffy little thing between your legs. “So pretty- I could bite it.”

Your back took an arch, jumping from the bed once his hot mouth hit your mound – letting out another uncontrolled moan – heart pounding so loud and savagely in your chest he could feel it pulse on his tongue inside you as he lapped at you like a parched mutt.

His claws dug with greed, plunged deep into the cake of your thighs, locking you around his jaw where he mouthed at your core with eyes rolling back. Every fiber went on a rampage within him, zipping along his limbs and gathering in his gut like one tight-clenched aching fist.

“Mh-fuck-” He took a breath, mouth gaping and dripping with spit and slick before moving upward, sucking kisses into the soft skin of your tummy and soon locking his lips around your nipple – with one hand working your free titty, the other fucked your hole with horny curiosity, delving in the slick with twists and curls and scissoring.

You whined under his touches, quaking on all counts – listening to your hole squelch while your oh-so-sensitive insides clenched down hard from the warm knot coiling in your lower belly, coming so close to that all-over-feeling yet again – shaking your head in fear of it.

“Piss yourself if it helps- I don’t mind-” He growled out low in a whisper, his fangs against your throat now, grazing playfully with rugged breaths hot against your flushed skin. “I won’t stop until I’ve broken in each hole-”

Eyes big and swiveled with tears rippling down your cheeks in rushed rivulets, all the while your pussy made out with his fingers – feeling the fat digits test the flex of your gummy walls – slippery with slick and happily fluttering from his touches. 

You soon caved for the umpteenth time – whole body strangling to suppress the sensation while unsure how much more you could take before going numb.

“Tch- there you go~ good bunny~” He praised in mockery, snickering at your panting – his breath hot on your skin where he moved to hover above your gagged lips – undoing the straps to free your mouth.

“Ah please, m-master- please- no more-” You immediately begged, mouth wet with drool.

“Mh- you’ve got manners…” He moaned, keeping his fingers in your cunt while holding you by the ear in the other hand, gripping it tight and rubbing the thin softness like a lucky charm. Tugging himself out of his pants, messy with pre, he immediately steered the fatness to your mouth. “Open up~”

You took it with a small whine, feeling it push onto your tongue and further in until it hit the back of your throat in a kiss. He gave a groan, feeling your bloated lips wrap around the shaft as you glucked on his length in soft mewls – eyes panning from the view to watch your little titties bounce at the movement, doing small jumps for him as he rammed your sweet face.

He removed your eyepatches – wanting to see your pretty eyes glossy and big for him as you sucked his cock.

The look on your face made his gut rumble – so sweet-looking with your cinched brows and button-nose – eyeing him with cute anxiety, no doubt taking in the scary sight of his red eyes and his pale skin littered with scars.

You coughed cutely when he withdrew, and he bent over to kiss you again, spit stringing between your tongues as his fingers went back to your clitty – rubbing crass circles into it that had you squealing into his mouth.

“Please, master-” You cried, wringing your thighs shut tight around his hand – tears springing from the pity puddles of your eyes as you looked at him with such plead it made his gut roar.

He could only offer a gleeful giggle, spreading your thighs by pulling you snugly around his waist – his cock jumping eagerly above your navel as he bore over you – his breath hot on your face. “Don’t worry, baby bunny, I’ll stuff you up good. Breed you full of a warm creampie in your tight little cunt.” He cooed, fangs sharp and glistening – his paw flat on your belly, rubbing the flesh with want. “Right here~ warm and thick in your little womb~”

You shuddered at the threat, then whined an open-mouthed moan as he sleaved himself inside you. Feeling his every fat vein rub along your walls until his plush head nudged tight against your cervix – making you mewl with an arch in your back, clenching hard around the size of him. Shaking from the toll of it.

He groaned, starting to pound you already – fast and deep, just like a hound rutting. “I’m gonna give you my knot, Bunbun-” He drooled, sucking your cheek with tongue and teeth – red eyes set on your plump and pouty lips – gaping open and begging for more while he continued raving. “Gonna knot you up so tight- make this virgin pussy tremble for me-”

You could only pant, getting run through at such a pace your next orgasm was fucked right out of you. Sweat pilled on your forehead and nose, thighs trembling as you came on his thickness in hot, heaving moans. Throttling his cock for cum – which he soon spilled deep inside you just like he promised – painting your insides with it with balls clenching up, resting snugly against the slick that spilled out.

He was messy when he pulled out again. Glossy and still raging fat as he rolled you over on your stomach – pulling your ass up by your hips while you remained breathless with exhaustion, smudged against the pillowy sheets beneath you.

He laid his meat between your asscheeks, eyes lazily looking over your dewy face and how pretty you looked fucked out on his bed.

“This bunny-hole’s never felt cock either, huh?” He said, voice breathy but eager still – planting his tip at the opening of the taut little entrance before beginning to push.

You moaned out again but could only ball your fists for purchase, still kept in a lock behind your back – tightening them until your knuckles whitened while he crammed himself inside you one stout inch at a time.

“Mmh- fuck, so tight~ it’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good hugging me nice and snug~” He almost whined, getting swallowed down until his pelvis met your ass and the ball of fluff found there – doing a little dance just for him. “Fuck- look at you, little cottontail~” He groaned, leaving himself sunk down to the hilt inside you for a moment of appreciation before beginning to drag out to pound your stomach into a nice mess. “So perfect, I outta take a picture~”

tip-jar: Kofi

#yandere shigaraki #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere shiggy #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha #shigaraki smut #shigaraki thirst #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura #tomura smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki x you #tomura x you

[agendercrisisx]

Shigaraki always had a hard time trusting, and when you took everything in his time. He almost cried. You cared so much about him, and it was such an estrange feeling. It didn't take long for him to trust you with every fiber of his being, and you trusted him more than anyone else.

He wanted to touch you, but he was so scared of hurting you. Or making, you, the only good thing in his life disappear.

When you found out that your quirk cancelled out Shigaraki, you were both over the moon. He could finally touch you to his heart's desire.

He spent every day, every hour, every minute, every second touching you. Always having some kind of hold of you, even if it was just the touch of your pinkie against his. It quickly evolved to him always having something in you. A finger, his tongue or his cock. He needed you all the fucking time.

Even in meetings, you would be sitting in his lap, his cock buried deep in you, with others in the room. If any of them looked at you or had a reaction to the sweet noises you made. Shigaraki would have them removed from the face of the earth in minutes. But he couldn't stop, you felt so fucking good, you made him feel so damn amazing. He loved you so fucking much. And the only way he could truly show you, was by fucking you until your brain turned off and the only thing you could think about was him.

#samx|imagine| #smut #bnha #mha #mha smut #bnha smut #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #gn reader #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #mha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #shiggy #bnha tomura #mha tomura #tomura x reader #shigaraki #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x you

[i-cant-sing]

Thinking about that tiktok about the girl being all sad about her parents dying one day and stuff, and I'm just thinking about Yandere President Overhaul AU, the toddler triplets are just sitting around with reader (who's heavily pregnant and snoring on the couch, a little drooling too) and Tomura suddenly realised that you could die- be it by pregnancy or talking to other people- ANYTHING could kill you.

And now Tomura is about 2 seconds away from having a full blown meltdown, and Dabi and Himiko are just trying to calm him down (and give your poor self a break and not wake upto 3 kids shrieking and crying).

Himiko: can you like- not freak out? Mom's not going to die-

Tomura, snot and tears: maybe not now! B-but who knows when?! Maybe- maybe it's today- or tomorrow- or when we're asleep! What are we gonna do w-without her?!

Dabi, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest: stop being such a baby, Tomu. If mom dies, we'll just- go with her.

Tomura, stops sniffling: what?

Himiko: dabi... that's a brilliant idea! Oh my gosh, we can use my knifes!

Dabi: of course its a brilliant idea, I'm the oldest. I'm smart like that. *pats Tomuras head* see? I told you we have nothing to worry about.

Tomura, wiping his tears away and nodding: you're right. Wait, what about dad?

Dabi: we are not inviting him. He's not coming with us, he hogs mom all the time!

Tomura, eyes twinkling: Dabi, you're a genius.

And the kids all just gather around their poor innocent mom, who's just content when she wakes upto her 3 menaces sleeping away in her arms. Meanwhile, Kai (who's been listening on to the triplets convo because ofc he has the whole place bugged.) is just thinking in his office... "what the fuck? The kids are just gonna kill themselves when Y/n's not around anymore? What- how- why didn't I think of that first? Also, why didn't Himiko stand up for me? Won't she invite me along when they all go? Is she still mad at me for not getting her a pet octopus last week? What was I supposed to do when her mom said no?!"

#yandere president kai #yandere president overhaul #yandere kai chisaki #yandere overhaul #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere dabi #yandere shigaraki #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura #yandere himiko #yandere himiko toga #yandere toga

[kisasan]

Shigaraki after seeing all of Izuku's memories with kacchan:

#bnha #mha #bnha 414 #mha 414 #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #izuku midoriya #bakugo katuski #shigaraki tomura #bakudeku #bkdk #decchan #someone save him #lmao #these gays are trying to murder me-shigaraki probably #im ​screaming at the thought of shigaraki witnessing all of the bkdk gay moments #he would been so done #imagine the news ​the gays give the villain second hand embarrassment at how oblivious they are #that he changes his mind at destroying the world so bkdk could talk and get together/jk…unless

[kingtomura]

Lessons

TW: dark content!!, yandere!shigaraki tomura x female reader, noncon/dubcon, implied kidnapping, degradation, humiliation, begging, anal fingering, piv, tomura is mean, mdni. wc: 2k Synopsis: Tomura thinks it’s time you learned an important lesson.

"I got something for you today."

Here he goes again, you think as you watch Shigaraki place a white plastic bag onto his desk. It’s hard to fight the roll of your eyes, but you do. He’s been in a mood lately and you don’t want to push your luck more than you have. 

It’s become routine, you and him. 

He gets too close, you tell him off. It surprises you that he actually listens and instills some kind of confidence in yourself — in your words. Maybe you have more power over the situation than you thought. 

The rustle of the bag catches your attention and you watch as he pulls out a few things. An energy drink, a small box of what looks like bandages and a small bottle of clear liquid. 

Your brows raise, interest piqued and you sit up a little straighter to see better. 

“What do you—?”

He holds the bottle up and your face scrunches in confusion. His smile is one that sends chills up your spine and you have to will yourself to stop being antsy. 

“Lube. It’s for you!” He says like it’s a birthday gift you’ve waited all year for. “You’ve been so… mouthy lately, I’ve decided to give you something to mouth off about. Won’t that be fun?” 

The question is rhetorical and you no longer fight your antsy movements. Rushing to your feet and taking a pointed step away from Shigaraki, your eyes narrow, “what are you talking about?” You’ve never had to use lube. He’s just taken what he’s wanted and your body adjusts every time — as much as you hated it. 

He places the lube back onto the desk and grabs his energy drink, cracking the can open and taking a sip of the sugary sweet soda. He was calm, patient — eerily so. 

After he’s had his fill of the drink, Shigaraki looks to you and nods his head in the direction of the bed. “Get on it.”

Your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest as you held your hands up to the man before you. “Wait, Tomura, we can—!”

“Oh?” He cuts you off, voice lifted and mockingly playful, “I’m Tomura now? But you were so comfortable calling me shigaraki.” 

He places his drink can back on the desk and fully turns toward you. “I didn’t stutter. Get on the fucking bed.” 

You knew his patience was wearing thin, but you still had to try. Taking a shaky breath, you get onto the bed, sitting down on the edge of it. 

“On your hands and knees.” 

Your blood ran cold, and you tried once more, searching your brain for any sweet words that could placate him. Desperate to find something, anything he would like to hear from you, “please—“

He’s in front of you before you can blink, large hand grabbing your face and pressing your cheeks together, “I’m done playing these games with you,” you can smell the sugar from the drink on his breath as your breathing picks up, pricks of panic lacing your body.

Shigaraki crashed his lips into yours, wasting no time slipping his tongue into your wet mouth. The taste of sweet energy drink was nauseating but you kissed back in fear of what he would do if he didn’t. You’ve exhausted all options and you knew, deep down that anything more would only make things worse. 

He pulls away, a trail of saliva following as he meets your eyes — and god, his smile. He’s giddy like a kid on Christmas and you regret every act of defiance you’ve made against him these past few weeks. 

“Cute.” Was the only word he gave before you were being manhandled onto your stomach, face in the pillows and ass in the air. 

“You know,” he muses, pressing his clothed erection to your panties, “I’m starting to think you want this. You want to see me angry so I can put you in your place.” 

He backs away to pull your underwear down in one swift movement, making you reach back to attempt to cover yourself. This only irritates him more as he grabs your wrist and pins your arm behind your back. The angle is as painful as it is uncomfortable. 

You hear him shuffling around behind you, no doubt one free hand of his own making things more difficult — and you take small pleasure in that. It’s short lived though as he seems to find what he’s looking for and you brace yourself for the inevitable. 

There’s the pop of a cap and then smooth cold liquid dripping down your backside and over your hole that makes you shiver. You feel frozen as the liquid trails lower and lower until it’s past the heat of your cunt. 

All it takes is the press of a finger to get you putting up a fight once more. there was no way he was really doing this. He’s never tried this. 

“I shouldn’t even prep you, honestly,” he mutters and you wince as one of his digits slowly push past the ring of muscle. “You’ve been so defiant. You really need to learn some manners.” 

The tears streaming from your eyes are making the pillow below you damp and cold, but you can only sniff in response. “Tomura, please—“

“Please what?” He sinks the finger deeper and you can’t hold back your yelp of pain. 

You shake your head as much as you can, “please stop! It hurts..” 

He pulls out suddenly and you think he’s actually going to listen — that he’s actually done torturing you until-

A hand swings down and slaps your ass, making you cry out. He imitates a buzzer sound before gripping the fat of your bottom, “wrong answer!” 

You thrash more as panic wells up inside when you feel the prodding of two fingers instead of one against your hole. “You know, this is supposed to be your punishment,” both won’t fit and he resorts to only letting one finger penetrate, his other hand massaging the cheek of your behind. “But I’m afraid you may like this too much.”

He is delusional. Shigaraki is the one that’s having the time of his life watching you suffer and writhe. You try to pull forward and away but the hand that was massaging your ass is now grabbing your hip and holding you in place. Your cry is loud as you feel the pressure of another finger join the first and shigaraki wastes no time pumping the digits in and out of your hole. 

You think your crying and begging falls on deaf ears — forcing you to accept the inevitable and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere else but here. You could be dropped off in the middle of the Sahara Desert during a summer heatwave and it would still be miles better than this hellhole. 

Just when you’re about to surrender to your fate and stop fighting it, shigaraki speaks again, “Since I’m so kind and understanding, I’ll give you a choice.” it’s like he sensed you were on the verge of checking out. That would just be too easy. “Which hole do you want me in? Hm? Tell me.” 

He’s gripping your hip tighter and you know there will be bruises formed but your mind could  only focus on this awful option. 

You don’t want him in either. The idea of having to tell him which way to violate you only made you nauseous. But you knew that you had to make a choice because it was always worse when he made one for you. 

“M-my..” you feel sick, swallowing your shame and squeezing your eyes shut as you continue, “I want you in my.. pussy.” 

You could practically hear the smile in Shigaraki's voice, “yeah? Beg for it.” 

He wanted to humiliate you, this was the real punishment. To build you up, give you a false sense of security only to break you down even more. He was sick. 

But you were sicker because you did exactly as you were told. 

“Tomura, please. Please fuck me.” You turned your head, as if you could hide your shame into the pillow below you, “I need you.” 

“Atta girl.” He praises, pulling his fingers out and you sigh in relief, nerves calming and shoulders relaxing. You almost melt into the sheets until you feel the pressure of shigaraki’s erection against your cunt. The lube is there and making things wetter than usual but the squeeze will still be uncomfortable. 

You look back, worry lacing your features, “wait, Tomura—“ but you don’t have a chance to finish, he pushes into you, girth stretching you and making your toes curl in an odd combination of pleasure and discomfort. 

Shigaraki lets out a sigh of relief, rocking his hips at a steady pace before leaning over you. “Fuck, that’s good.” The hand gripping your hip moves to cup your breast, tweaking the sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger. 

This was familiar, this was easy. It was not uncharted territory and it was something you could convince yourself was okay. Normal, even.

“Mine, mine, you’re all mine” he babbles into your ear and you don’t turn away, terrified he’ll go back on his words if you do. 

His pace is picking up and you find yourself getting lost in the motions. His body rocking against yours as he changes the angle and oh—

He hits the spot inside and you can’t stop yourself from moaning out. It’s sensitive and it makes your back arch with every deep stroke. 

“Fuckin’ slut, I knew you’d like this.” He mutters, circling his thumb around your unoccupied hole, the lube making it slide with ease, before pressing into the tightness. The pain is dull and the pressure of being filled so much almost sends you over, dragging a whine from the back of your throat. 

The bed shakes from the force of Shigaraki’s thrusts and you feel heat pool in your lower abdomen. You were so close and you hated it. Hated him. But when you felt his warm hand move from your breast, down your stomach until it was splayed out over your cunt — pinkie finger lifted and middle finger brushing your clit with every thrust. 

You were beginning to feel dizzy with pleasure and your head fell onto the pillow, hands gripping the sheets below to anchor yourself as you got lost in the feelings. It was overwhelming and you couldn’t bite back your cries and Shigaraki’s thrusts became erratic, he was close too. 

All it took was one more thrust to sweep you over the edge, eyes rolling back as your thighs shook — orgasm claiming you.

“Oh, fuck.” Shigaraki breathed, stilling as his own waves of pleasure overcame him. You barely registered the pulse of his cock as he came deep inside of you. 

You both try to catch your breath, time seeming to still as you panted. Shigaraki was the first to move, you felt him pull out and pause — no doubt watching his cum drip from your cunt — before taking his place next to you on the bed. 

The quiet of the room is deafening and your eyelids feel heavy. You’re as still as a mouse, not wanting to stir and risk him starting up again, but his eyes are already closed. You almost think he’s asleep before he speaks again. 

“Next time,” he starts, stretching before sitting up, “I won’t be so kind. So you should clean up your nasty attitude.”

You nod, dread weighing down your efforts. There wouldn’t be a next time, if you could help it. Regrettably, you tremble at the thought as you realize this is the exact lesson he was trying to teach you.

#yandere shigaraki #yandere shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura #tw yandere #tw noncon #dark content #dead dove do not eat #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere tomura shigaraki #my works

[tomurasmoleunderhislip]

It's okay he's still my babygirl

#shigaraki #tomura #league of villains #shigaraki x reader #tomura headcanons #tomura fluff #tomura x reader #shigaraki fic #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki fluff #shimura tenko #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura imagine #tomura shiragaki #tomura hc #tomura shigiraki x reader #bnha tomura #shigaraki imagine #shiggy

[zapreportsblog]

↱ comfort in the darkness ↰

➘ summary : Shigaraki is thankful for his adoptive sister, especially since she keeps the nightmares away

➘ Tomura Shigaraki x reader, league of villains x reader

The League of Villains' hideout was shrouded in darkness as the night enveloped them. Tomura Shigaraki, the enigmatic and tormented leader, often found himself trapped in the clutches of his own haunting past. Nightmares from his childhood, memories of pain and loss, clawed at the edges of his consciousness, threatening to consume him.

Amidst the chaos and the sinister plans that churned within the League's world, there was one source of solace for Tomura—an unexpected one. His adopted sister, (Y/N), carried an air of calmness that he found inexplicably soothing. Her presence had a way of grounding him, of keeping the darkness at bay.

As Tomura lay in his bed, his mind plagued by the echoes of his past, a soft knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. The door creaked open, and (Y/N) stepped into the room, her presence a small but comforting light in the shadows.

"Tomura, are you awake?" she asked softly.

Tomura nodded, unable to voice the swirling turmoil within him. (Y/N) approached his bed, her movements gentle as she sat down beside him. Without a word, she extended her arms, inviting him to lean against her.

Tomura hesitated for a moment, his guard always high, even around those he cared for. But the pull of (Y/N)'s presence was undeniable. He shifted closer, resting his head against her shoulder, his eyes closed as he breathed in her familiar scent.

As (Y/N)'s arms enveloped him in a warm embrace, a sense of tranquility washed over Tomura. The nightmares that had tormented him seemed to retreat, as if pushed back by the simple act of human connection.

"You can rest, Tomura," (Y/N) whispered, her voice a gentle murmur in the darkness.

He nodded, his tense muscles slowly relaxing as he allowed himself to lean into the comfort (Y/N) provided. It was an intimacy he rarely experienced, a vulnerability he had seldom allowed himself to indulge in.

With (Y/N) by his side, Tomura drifted into a restless sleep. His dreams were no longer haunted by the demons of his past, replaced instead by a sense of safety and the fleeting warmth of a connection he had desperately needed.

The night passed in silence, (Y/N)'s presence a steadfast anchor for Tomura. And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, he woke to find (Y/N) still beside him, her steady breathing a testament to the peacefulness she had brought to his restless soul.

"Thank you," Tomura murmured, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that was rare for him.

(Y/N) smiled gently, her fingers brushing against his hair. "Anytime, Tomura. I'm here for you."

In that moment, amidst the darkness and the complexities of their lives, Tomura and (Y/N) found a quiet refuge in each other's arms—a refuge that offered a respite from the nightmares that plagued them both, a refuge that held the promise of healing in the midst of their shared chaos.

As the days turned into weeks, the bond between Tomura and (Y/N) deepened. Their connection grew stronger, fueled by the unspoken understanding they shared. (Y/N) continued to offer Tomura a source of solace, a safe haven from the tumultuous world they inhabited.

Late one evening, as the League of Villains' hideout buzzed with activity, Tomura found himself retreating to his room once again. The weight of their plans and the chaos of their lives bore down on him, threatening to engulf him in a sea of darkness. But he knew that there was one person who could provide him with the comfort he so desperately needed.

With a soft knock, (Y/N) entered his room, her eyes meeting his with a sense of familiarity. Tomura didn't hesitate this time. He extended his arms, silently inviting her to join him on the bed. (Y/N) smiled and settled beside him, her arms wrapping around him as he leaned into her embrace.

"Tell me about something positive, (Y/N)," Tomura murmured, his voice a rare vulnerability.

(Y/N) hummed softly, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his back. "Remember the time we found that stray cat near the hideout? It was a rainy day, and the poor thing was shivering. We took it in, dried it off, and it ended up becoming our unofficial mascot."

Tomura's lips twitched into a small smile, his tension slowly easing as he listened to (Y/N)'s soothing voice. Her stories, her presence, they had a way of grounding him in a reality that wasn't tainted by the shadows of his past.

As (Y/N) continued to share anecdotes and tales of their shared moments, Tomura found himself transported to a world where innocence and happiness still existed. The nightmares that once tormented him felt distant, replaced by the warmth of (Y/N)'s embrace and the sound of her laughter.

"You have a way of making even the darkest moments seem a little brighter," Tomura admitted, his voice tinged with gratitude.

(Y/N) tightened her embrace, her chin resting on top of his head. "You're not alone in this, Tomura. We face the darkness together."

Tomura closed his eyes, his breathing steady as he absorbed the comfort that (Y/N) provided. With her by his side, the walls he had built around himself seemed to crumble just a little. Her presence was a reminder that he wasn't defined solely by his past or his role as a villain, but by the connections he formed and the potential for change within him.

As the night deepened, (Y/N) and Tomura remained wrapped in each other's arms, finding a sense of solace and hope in the midst of their shared vulnerability. In that moment, their bond transcended the chaos that surrounded them, offering a glimpse of the healing power that existed within their connection—a connection that held the promise of transformation and redemption, even for someone as tormented as Tomura Shigaraki.

#x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia #my hero academia masterlist #league of villians x reader #league of villains imagines #league of villains imagine #tomura shigaraki #tomura shigaraki imagine #Tomura Shigaraki imagines #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you

[tobegiggledat]

The Dunes Along His Fingertips

✦pairing: Sandman!Shigaraki x gn!reader

✦warnings: dead dove do not eat, no quirks au, heavy derealization (questioning of reality), kidnapping, mind games, nonconsensual groping, ending can be interpreted as implied suicide

✦word count: 1.4k

✦a/n: I’m begging you, DO NOT read this if you’re in a bad place mentally or have a history of extreme derealization.

“10 Tips for Staying Awake”

“9 Ways to Stay Awake Without Caffeine”

Fighting sleep has become quite the task as you languidly scroll through your umpteenth article with more false promises of getting you to resist that incessant need that’s frayed your every nerve.

Not even a day has passed, yet fatigue has withered your limbs to dull logs, sluggishly moving about your home to occasionally grab another energy drink while quivering from any excessive movements.

But that feeling is incomparable to the dreadful realities created behind your eyes whenever you shut them, each an amalgamation of your greatest fears in practice—a direct confrontation with the darkest depths of your secretive subconscious.

After every nightmare you’ve been having for the past week, you awoke to an abnormal film of crust across your eyes, and viewed it as physical evidence of the horrors your mind is capable of brewing.

At the moment, the weight over your eyelids grows heavy enough for you to entertain sleep in insignificant intervals, shutting your eyes, counting to ten then jerking them open at the very last second.

1…

2…

3…Don’t sleepDon’t sleepDon’tsleep

4…Don’t

5…sleepDon’t…

6, 7, 8…8, 9...9…9

Wake up!

Your vision rests before familiar scenery as your thumb softly brushes over the phone between your fingers, clumsily mistyping digits and fumbling across the screen in your haze. You place it aside then push your limbs outward as if grasping for more energy.

Another ten seconds should have you feeling well rested, you think.

With lethargy pummeling throughout your bloodstream in a slow, yet powerful rhythm, you close your eyes once more and begin counting.

1…Stay

2…Awake

3…

4…

5…

6…

7…

9…9?…9…10

Wake up!

Your eyelids part swiftly the moment your thoughts are loud and coherent, but when you gather yourself to retrieve another drink, you realize the landscape has changed.

Are you dreaming?

The room you're in now is void of your usual accents; suffocating concrete walls surround all sides, no windows nor splashes of color and furnishings, only a shriveled mattress beneath you and a heavily locked door ahead of you.

A tightness forms at your ankles with each of your movements, but as your eyes trail downward to locate the source of it, you gasp sharply at the sight of a chain wedged into your skin, leaving filthy rust prints in its wake.

No, you aren't dreaming. You were kidnapped, and the one responsible has yet to show themselves.

A milky yellow bulb illuminates from overhead and casts a clouded glow across your features; it’s relatively dim but provides enough brightness for you to make out manic scribbles along the baseboards, most illegible while others are half-hearted sketches of…people?

A faint chill pervades the still air, reeking faintly of must from the old walls’ caked debris and dust in its corners.

You're alone.

Your skin craves touch outside of scratchy straw pokes from the cushion you lie on and rough grazes along the crispy edges of your chain; you long to hear noises besides the creaks of the floorboards as the wood settles and cracks from disuse.

Whoever your captor is, wherever they may be, you can't bring yourself to care, only wishing they'd come back, and quickly.

As if fate were stirred by your desire, the metal door slits open, and your vision is quickly drawn to the room’s only opening, though it remains difficult to see anything beyond it.

A chalky-blue haired man appears from behind, with deep cracks ingrained below his eyes and across his lips—now pressed thin into a dispassionate line as dark irises survey the state he's left you in.

Just as swiftly as he enters, you break the silence. “W-Who are you? And what do you want from me?”, you mutter with shaky disdain despite facing his seemingly disinterested features.

He doesn't reply, opting to continue scanning you wordlessly, and then the room around you.

You don't even understand how he could've taken you—surely, you weren't so deep in sleep that you couldn't have noticed his break in or woken up as he took you.

Is he a stalker perhaps?

No, he can't be, you haven't left your home in about a week, and you live in the middle of nowhere. This couldn't have been calculated, otherwise you would've already noticed any peculiar surveillance of your property.

Think. Think.

You were sleeping before this all happened.

Is this a nightmare?

You hastily swipe across your eyes but find none of the grit that usually accompanies a horror-inducing slumber.

“I know this is a dream.” It has to be. “S-So stop it already”, you spit, giving your best imitation of calm—control of the situation.

His lips slowly curl until they reach his eyes, jagged canines arranging into a nefarious grin at your request while his eyes are pulled into near crescents. “Oh? Well, you don't seem so certain”, he speaks in a high-pitched rasp.

“It's weird how you didn't deny it”, your fists ball tightly at your sides as you await his next move.

But his features have yet to change. “What you think of your circumstance doesn't matter to me either way, so go on. Continue to delude yourself into thinking this is all some sort of dream, but I'll still get my uses out of you.”

He taps against his head in a comical manner as if something important he's forgotten has finally bubbled to the surface, his right hand then slips into the pocket of his ragged, black hoodie to retrieve an item. “Or better yet, just make yourself wake up.” The glistening blade of a pocket knife rests rigidly between his fingers.

The sharpened tip is pointed toward you as he inches closer. “Take it.”

Your body backs away accordingly, as you shake your head, mouth slightly agape, until you're inevitably backed into a corner like a defeated prey. He’s crouched to your level now, close enough for his body heat to radiate across your cheeks in wavering breaths.

“I'll never let you leave this room long enough to discover the truth, so make your choice.” He twirls it along his fingertips, his increasingly darker expression revealing how he revels in your submission.

“Keeping quiet?” He tuts before pulling himself upright and returning the blade into the slit of his hoodie. “Good decision”, he smirks and approaches you once more, yet you clamp your eyes tightly before his touch ever reaches, leaving yourself on display to sinister hands, but avoiding to bear witness.

You find yourself reciting mantras you've long grown familiar with.

It'll pass, you'll wake up. It'll pass. It’ll pass.

Your back sinks into suffocating wool, a mess of tangled fibers pressing at your sides, then pale, callused skin burrows between, entrapping you in a hold you make little effort to release yourself from.

Maybe you can ride out this nightmare until the very end—

Wake up. Let it pass. It’s okay, it’ll end.

The looming stranger plants you more firmly beneath him with a jut of his hips; a smothering musk entombs you as your being briefly fights to create distance before fusing with his own in a final embrace and act of unwilling submission.

What does he want from you?

Slivers of yellow part between his lips to meet your gaze, and you reel at the bizarre alignment of them.

He’s smiling—This can’t be the truth, he’s lying.

This could be it—your true reality—

A waste.

A waste.

A waste of time, waiting for an opportunity that’ll never arrive. You’ll never wake up.

His lips reach the cusp of your ear, his rasped voice trembles through your canal directly.

“Call me Tomura.” It says, and nothing more.

Trust your instincts. It’ll be over soon.

You’ll wake up, although you’ll never be the same.

Your garment brushes between his fingers before swiftly crumbling to dust under his palm.

That dust, you recognize it, but what does it mean?

He lingers those destructive hands over your face as if to threaten you, yet he ultimately settles for swiping against your cheek in misplaced caresses.

Deep down you know his ability is way outside the realm of the world you’re used to but for some reason, you can’t play with the possibility of it being real.

It all feels too real.

Your eyes shift hastily between the metal-latched door and the pocket knife at his waist.

Knife. Door. Knife. Door. Knife. Door.

The answer lies in escaping, anything to end this reality as it is now.

Yes, your only choice is to escape.

Please remember that you are real, although this story is not❤️

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #mha x gender neutral reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha reader insert #yandere shigaraki #yandere tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigaraki imagines

[kleftiko]

❦ DANCE, DANCE

cw: mature, fem!reader, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, creampie, inexperienced!loser!shigaraki, degradation, hair pulling

it’s missing loser shigaraki hours✌️😔

“i only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me”

shigaraki lay slumped on his back. the stupid artist gloves on his hands were bugging him. he wore them every night but for some reason he kept picking at the wrist, slivers of red, irritated skin sent jolts of pain every time he scratched at it. he felt like a failure—pathetic. today had been a complete disaster and he didn’t want to face all for one like this.

the door to his room creaked open, interrupting his self deprecation. his bored eyes followed the movement to meet your head poking through the entrance. hair pushed back to show your face to him; he nearly huffed.

“what do you want.”

your eyes held an emotion that made him absolutely furious. pity. you were there to witness his defeat upon returning to base all busted and bruised; you had watched him nearly throw a tantrum at his failure of a mission, sulking and hitting things like a petulant child. the reminder made him bite the inside of his cheek harshly.

“if you say any pitiful shit, i’ll kill you.” he warned, a slight growl to his tone, and you frowned. wordlessly, you opened the door the rest of the way, revealing your bare body in nothing but your panties.

“no sympathy?” you asked and watched his adam’s apple bob harshly. his eyes bore into your body, gaze so intense you could practically hear the pounding of his heart from across the room reverberating against your uncovered skin.

god, he was so pathetic.

and you fed off it, but he didn’t care. he liked to think he let you saunter into the room towards him, when in reality you had him paralyzed with lust.

in a moment you were mounted on top of his lap; his favourite position. his hands could greedily grab at the fleshy parts of your ass, his face could smush itself between your boobs, and your hot pussy would grind on his—painfully hard—clothed cock. all he could do in the moment was desperately and sloppily suck at your tits, biting occasionally so you’d hiss at him and pull his hair as punishment. it was at that time that he didn’t care about the artist gloves anymore, if they let him grab handfuls of your ass and use you to get himself off then he didn’t care.

“you’re such a pervert, aren’t you.” your nails carded through his hair, scratching against his dry scalp, and he whined involuntarily. “throwing a little tantrum when you get home just so i would pity fuck you, huh?”

he never let anyone talk to him like that. one disrespectful word and he would have their ashes crumbling between his fingers within a second, but with you? you spit harsh, pathetic, and degrading words to his face and all he could do was spill precum from his aching, throbbing cock. you were the only one who knew he was this pathetic, never having felt the touch of a woman before you. but still, he had to try and fight back for the sake of his crumbling pride.

“watch it.” he growled, voice lifting at the end as you pulled the band of his boxers down to free his dick. “you want me to turn you to dust?”

You looked directly into his eyes.

“do it.” you challenged, moving your underwear to the side and sheathing his stiff cock inside you.

his head hit the wall harshly behind him as you bounced, losing all the bravado he tried to front in favour of releasing deplorably pitiable sounds and grabbing at you desperately.

“as if anyone would give you their pussy anyway.” you bit, mouth curling up at how quickly he crumbled. “you wanna kill the only person in the world who would fuck you? be my guest and go back to your fist.”

he whined at your words, bucking his hips up and disrupting your rhythm. you harshly tugged his hair back, jolting his neck in a whiplash-like fashion—silently telling him to behave.

it’s a miracle he listened, but you could feel the restraint he put into not sloppily fucking you, his body practically shaking. you knew if you let him, he’d unskilfully thrust into you without rhythm. he didn’t know how to fuck, but with you in charge you could utilized his thick cock and get yourself off like a toy. his fingers dug into your hips painfully, eyes screwed shut in both pleasure and an attempt to hide his tears from you, and you knew he was close. his pathetic mumbling and incoherent whines only spurred you on as you whispered condescendingly, “you okay, boss?”

you slapped a hand brutally over his chapped lips, muffling the loud, wanton, moan he let out as he spilled inside you. His body shook with his orgasm, twitching like he’d never came before from someone else’s ministrations. bouncing slowly now, he let out a string of curses at the overstimulation as you came to a stop.

“fuck.” he breathed.

as you looked down at his pathetic stature, you couldn’t help but think he was adorable—completely fucked out every time you finished with him. soft pants escaped his lips, and his eyes fluttered open, gazing up at you with a haze of ecstasy. you couldn’t help but lean down and capture his lips, tongue slipping into his mouth as his hands came up to cradle your face desperately.

he wanted to stay like that, cock softening inside you as you slowly made out, but you didn’t allow it. instead, you let go of him and slipped off his dick, a trail of his cum leaking out of you before you fixed your underwear. you always left him in a mess of his own cum, knowing he was too burnt out to do anything about it.

“see you tomorrow, boss.”

#mha imagines #mha x reader #mha headcanons #mha smut #mha fanfiction #mha shigaraki #shigaraki smut #bnha shigaraki #bnha x reader #bnha smut #shigaraki thirst #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tenko #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki x reader

[yanderenightmare]

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

Shigaraki Tomura

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

fem reader

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?”

#yandere shigaraki #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere shiggy #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha #shigaraki smut #shigaraki thirst #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura #tomura smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki x you #tomura x you

[kikyo-bnha-imagines]

SHIGARAKI TOMURA | GAME OVER

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

tags: explicit, fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, that was the plan, anyways.  

“...the hell are you doing?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then you take his cock into your mouth.

“Sh-Shit!”

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

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

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

“Oh, fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks for the meal,” you grin.

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

“But you love it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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