shiggyniggy - Tumblr blog

shiggyniggy · 4 months ago

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New Rehab Program - Pt 4

A/N: Hey if you wanna get tagged, just tell me! Cuz life makes me update slow, rip

Warnings: Mention of blood, mention of you being badly injured, mention of death, also you hate the Twilight saga

During the next couple of days, Shigaraki was oddly 'clingy'. Not physically, but he was always following you around like a dog or cat.

You were watching tv? He was there, sitting on the lazyboy, playing on his phone while sometimes, looking at what you're watching too.

In the kitchen? He was there, sitting on the kitchen island, still doing his own thing though.

The only times he wouldn't follow was when you were in the bathroom, or your bedroom. During those moments, he'd stay in his room. WITH HIS DOOR OPENED. He never closed it now!!

You didn't really understand that sudden switch in him until you decided to examine his behaviour.

From what you had observed, he was clearly grateful to be freed from this collar. That was an easy guess though because the day when you removed it, you put it on the counter. Guess what? Next day there was only a pile of dust left there.

It made you smile, because in all honesty, you would never put it back around his neck. He wasn't a wild animal or caveman with rabies.

You quickly realized that, him following you around, was his own way of saying that he appreciated your presence. Though, knowing his personality, you knew he'd tell you the opposite.

He was still quite silent but at least he didn't ignore you when you asked or talked to him.

You were more than glad to see all this progress when all you did was being kind and patient to him. Even if there was still lots of work to do.

"She should dust them both" Shigaraki hissed at the tv.

You had been bored and had decided to rewatch Twilight. Tomura was still on his phone but he was clearly more focused on the movie. You didn't like this saga but you watched it to see his reaction, to see if he disliked the franchise like you. Was it some kind of therapy? Not really, it was more like bonding time. So far, his reactions were hilarious but you kept your laughs inside.

"Why does Jacob has screen time? He should be a background character only" The white haired man hissed again.

At this point, your show wasn't Twilight anymore but Tomura.

"Why does Jasper keeps staring like a fucking moron? I want to kill him." He went silent for a few seconds. "Is Bella a fucking zombie? She has no emotions" He growled before adding. "If she's a zombie, that would fucking explain why she smells weird to them"

Your laughs escaped your mouth without your consent but you couldn't stop them.

Shigaraki snapped his head in your direction and raised a brow. "Why are you laughing?"

"Sorry it's you- You're just funny, 'cause I agree with you" You wiped your eyes, sighing with a smile.

"Was this a therapy?" He growled in a very low and menacing voice.

"No, I was bored and thought it could be fun" You chuckled and shrugged. "I like judging that saga with my friends"

"I'm not your friend" Tomura frowned.

"Maybe, but it's still fun, right?" You smiled.

Tomura narrowed his eyes as he stared at you, probably trying to decipher how the gears in your brain worked.

After that, he stayed silent for the rest of the movie. Even if his mouth was shut, you could read his body language. He hated that movie and that was an amusing sight.

During the week, All Might, Eraser Head, Tsukauchi and some of your bosses showed up.

You were all sitting at the dining table. Shigaraki and All Might sitting at both ends, right in front of each other. As if they were kings of some kind. Well, Tomura was trying to look intimidating but All Might? He probably just took the first chair he spotted.

As a normal civil, you'd think that everyone was pissed at each other but as a therapist or as someone very observing, you knew how to decipher people. All Might was nervous, Eraser Head was on his guard, even if he hid it quite well, your superiors were angry, Tsukauchi was calm but intrigued while Shigaraki was fuming. He hated those people.

What about you? You were nervous, sitting there in the middle of this silent war. And also because you removed Tomura's collar without anyone's permission, oops. Oh and with the help of All Might on top of that….

Tsukauchi spoke first. "I will ask some questions to begin"

You nodded and dared a look in Shigaraki's direction, he was glaring at Tsukauchi. He knew he couldn't lie, because he knew the cop's quirk and that must be pissing him off.

"Have you two been manipulated to remove his collar?" The officer clicked his pen, turning to you and All Might.

"No" You and All Might shook your heads and Tsukauchi wrote something down before turning to the 'ex-criminal'.

"Have you manipulated them?"

It took a few seconds before Tomura only shook his head, clearly pouting at the officer's quirk. Tsukauchi could detect lies.

"Were you trying to hurt your therapist before your collar reacted?"

"Yes" The white haired man narrowed his crimson eyes.

Tsukauchi didn't seem surprised. "Why?"

"Because they were pissing me off"

Ha, yes, Tomura's famous excuse over anything really.

The inspector noted something before turning back to you. "Has he tried again?"

You shook your head.

Tsukauchi nodded before looking at your superiors, telling them that his part was done.

One of your employers sat down in front of you with a menacing frown. "Now, why did you remove his collar? Do you know the risks?"

Ah, there it was. The one million dollar question. You gulped as you felt everyone's eyes on you but not Tomura's. He was glaring at your superior. But why? Wasn't he interested into what you were about to say?

"Because it's inhuman, because he is NOT a wild animal with rabies. He is NOT a do who has to be put on a leash. He is HUMAN. No one should treat a human like this, it's unfair and cruel. Sure he probably did-"

"Nah, I never put a fucking collar on anyone. I just used handcuffs on that young brat and even removed it from him before he fucking decided to attack me."

"We're not talking to you, Shigaraki" Eraser Head frowned at the man.

Shigaraki only raised both his hands in a 'defensive' way and scoffed.

You decided to continue.

"Yes I know the risks. He can be dangerous, he has free will, like any of us. But I strongly believe that for example, forcing someone to eat when they don't want to is a very bad idea. Just like how you guys forced him into this therapy and forced him to wear the collar."

Everyone stayed silent as they registered what you said.

Oh fuck-

Maybe you spoke too much?

But before you could worry, a huge hand was softly put on your shoulder, All Might was smiling at you with pride and comfort in his eyes.

He was probably thinking that you were the perfect therapist for Tomura. That choosing you was the right choice.

You had only under 5 years of experience and yet, people liked you because you made the therapies different. And for some reason that you ignored, people had started talking about you and it had eventually landed in All Might's ears.

So when he showed up at your workplace, you were speechless. He had asked you, THE symbol of peace, had asked you to help him.

That day, you led him to your office, thinking that he needed therapy. He wasn't there for himself, but for Tomura Shigaraki.

At first, you honestly couldn't understand why he wanted to save the 'apprentice' of his now deceased, arch nemesis. Well no, All Might was known to help countless of people no matter who they were. But then he had revealed you something intriguing. Nana Shimura. Tomura's biological grandmother. Who was no other than All Might's mentor.

Again, you were speechless so you had let him continue. The way he spoke about her, she was a mother figure to him. It clicked in your mind. He wanted to save Tomura because he was family to him, because he felt a mountain of guilt on his shoulders for not being able to be there for the ex-villain.

Frankly, you weren't supposed to let your feelings decide as a therapist but this case touched your heart. You wanted to help. But also, if a criminal as bad as Shigaraki was open to get into therapy, wouldn't that mean he wasn't as bad as we think? Plus, that meant you could help fixing society, right?

You sighed with a smile and glanced at the white haired man.

The villain was staring at you as if you had just confessed that you were an alien sent on Earth.

You chuckled. How great would that be? No more crimes. Just peace and happiness. Sure it probably sounded like an impossible dream but hey, if you could save THE Tomura Shigaraki, you would be saving thousands of people, right?

Your superiors and the Pro Heroes discussed together about this whole 'collar removed' situation.

They weren't really happy with this but the heroes (mostly All Might), had taken your side. You were quite surprised that Eraser Head and Tsukauchi seemed to believe in you too. Again, hella surprising, but much appreciated.

You watched them leave with their cars as you stood in the doorway. Once they were away, you walked back inside and closed the door.

Tomura was still sitting at the table, staring at nothing.

"Are-" You remembered that he disliked being asked if he was okay. "Tomura? You're staring into the void"

He didn't react.

Hm, what could you do?

Ah right! He was obsessed with video games, from what you observed. Hell, you didn't even need to be a therapist to find that out. You decided to speak his 'language'.

"If you keep doing this, you'll start glitching and crash the game"

Tomura finally glanced at you with a scoff. You smiled, happy to see that it worked.

"Never been this close to Eraser Head.." He mumbled.

"Are you a fan?" You genuinely asked.

Shigaraki's face scrunched up as he frowned. "No"

You nodded, you weren't going to ask more so you only headed to the living room.

And just like the past few days, he followed a few seconds later. He plopped on the couch and grabbed his phone while you turned your favorite console on. You picked a new game.

After an hour, you weren't far into it but it had piqued Tomura's curiosity as he often looked up at the TV screen. You were struggling with a boss.

"Don't"

You didn't listen, you were stubborn when you had an idea.

"Dodge! Just- Damn it! What the hell are you doing??"

"I AM dodging!" You replied back.

"No you're not, hand me that!" He leaned towards you and reached for the controller. But you stubbornly refused and stretched both arms away from him, while still holding it.

Did you forget that he was also stubborn? Yes, yes you did. He almost climbed on top of you to snatch the god damn controller.

"Tomura! I can do it on my own! Go away!" You tried pushing him back to his place with your foot but as you both stretched further to keep, (or grab) the controller, you dropped it on the floor.

"HA! Dibs!" The white haired man jumped off the couch to snatch it.

"No!" You quickly grabbed his shirt and he fell on you.

It hurt, you both groaned then immediately froze when you realized, with wide eyes, how close your faces were from each other. You both stared at the other for what seemed like an eternity. He leaned his face closer and closer until your lips were just an inch away. You were short circuiting and shut your eyes hard, panicking a little.

Suddenly his weight was gone.

You opened your eyes, letting out a breath that you'd been holding. Your heart was also pounding, ready to break your ribcage while Tomura was sitting on the floor, in front of the tv, like nothing happened. He didn't seem to give a shit either because he had snatched the controller when you closed your eyes.

But- What happened?

Your cheeks were red and you felt like the room had suddenly become warmer.

Seriously- What the fuck just happened??

Blood

Everywhere

All around you

Shigaraki was holding you tightly against him, screaming in rage and agony. But why?

It was your blood

Your stomach had been shot and you were unconscious… Or dead? In his arms.

He was in pain too, but not physically. He only had small scratches. But his heart? It felt like someone had stabbed it

The young man closed his eyes as he cried. But why was he crying?

And when he reopened his eyes to look at you, the first thing he saw was his pillow that he was clutching against him. It quickly vanished into dust so the villain sat up, confusedly looking around. He was in his bed, right next to his gaming desk. He was back home, but how? Oh right, a dream. The white haired man glanced at the dust on his bed. He didn't care about his pillow right now.

He stood up, Tomura couldn't understand that weird dream. Why was his heart pounding in his chest? Why was his eyes felt itchy? He didn't like you. Did he? No, no he didn't. It was just a stupid dream. Maybe it was that weird werewolf vampire saga that messed up his brain, nothing else.

And yet, even if it was 2 am, he instinctively walked to your doorway. It was never closed for some reason, so he looked at your silhouette sleeping softly.

The bloodied scene came back to his mind and his heart restarted to ache. He couldn't understand, you were there, safe and sound. Sleeping peacefully. Nothing bad happened to you.

He decided to go back to sleep, but first, he needed to clean his bed.

Why did he needed to check up on you? It was only a dream so of course you were fine. His feelings were dumb, he frowned.

What the fuck did you do to him?

A/N: OOOOOOOH THE FEELINGS HAVE STARTED TO SHOW HEHEHE >:3

Pt 3

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shiggyniggy · 4 months ago

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Protect | Gohan x Reader |

author's note: this lil story is inspired by an ask @loki-love answered, which i encourage you to check out here! thank you so much again for inspiring and approving me writing this short lil thing haha i appreciate it from the bottom of my heart. i just really wanted to write protective gohan!!

pairing: gohan x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of reader's past abusive relationship, gohan's anger

A ping breaks the amicable silence between you and Gohan, and you groan at the realization it's your phone that's gone off. Gohan absentmindedly rubs your thigh as he continues staring at the bright light of his laptop screen as he works and your eyes flick to the message on your phone instead of the raunchy comedy on the television.

I miss you

"Ugh." You grumble under your breath. Your ex, once again. Lately he's taken to messaging you, not just through your phone number but even social media outlets. Ignoring him hasn't been working; he just keeps trying!

Please leave me alone.

You silence your phone and tuck it between the couch cushions, wrapping your arms around Gohan's and focusing on the movie again. He kisses your hair sweetly, resting his head on yours and watching as a naked man on the screen emerges from the trunk of a car and begins beating up three men with a crowbar. "What on earth are you watching?" He chuckles, perplexed but entertained anyway.

"A dumb movie." The murmur is sour on your lips— every time that bastard of an ex messages you, your mood turns. Where someone finds the nerve to harass their ex after the way they treated them in the relationship, you've got zero idea.

"You alright?" He murmurs in your ear and sets aside his laptop to turn his body your way.

"Yeah, yeah." You nod quickly. "Don't worry. Just… Watch the movie with me?"

"Of course." Gohan's smile is so damn pure; he loves you so much, and that's exactly why you love him just as much. He builds you up, telling you he loves you every day, listening to your boring workday stories, complimenting you even when you look a hot mess first thing in the morning. He's never left anything but a good mark on you, never ever caused one bad day.

Gohan and the movie are quick in breaking your downward spiral, and you cuddle into your lover just a little closer, grinning ear-to-ear when his lips press against your cheek.

I'm sorry for everything. I've changed, just let me prove it to you

A low growl leaves your throat as you read the text. Bastard left you alone for one day! Instead of the rest of your damn life! Your thumbs tap quickly against the screen and you send the message with a huff, shoving your phone in your back pocket as you resume working; it's a busy evening at the rowdy Texas-themed restaurant you work at, and you've certainly got no time to text a shitty man.

I will never go back to you. Leave me alone!

The evening goes by quickly, your shift just about over as you're collecting your tip from your most recent table when there's a tap on your shoulder. And when you turn, it's none other than that bastard that literally left you for dead staring you in the eye. He's grown his hair out and started shaving, and in those green eyes you see images of the past— the way he berated you, cheated on you, beat you and then drained your joint account of all the money and skipped town when he left you.

"Babe-" He begins, and you gasp sharply and step away as if burned by his very voice alone.

"I am not your babe. Leave me alone!" You nearly drop the wad of cash in your hand as you scurry away to the employee lounge and call your boyfriend.

Gohan answers immediately, the angel. "Hey baby, are you off work already?"

"Yes." You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, hoping your voice isn't shaking like your hands.

"I'm on my way. See you in five!"

"See you." You quickly tap the red button and rub your face. Hopefully your ex is gone by the time Gohan comes.

Gohan makes the quick drive between home and the restaurant in record time, and walks in as always to come and walk you to the car himself. He's done that ever since you took this job, as it's simply a gentlemanly thing to do, and also because who knows who's lurking in the shadows at this time of night? You're far too precious to him to go unguarded, so to speak.

He smiles and looks around, black hair wild as always after a research binge. Some of your coworkers wave and he waves back politely, smiling still. He can't remember the last time he's felt this happy all the time, at peace even during the most frustrating days at work. You've brought a balance to his life he can never thank you for enough.

"D'ya know where she is?" Gohan asks, and one of the blonde waitresses moves in closer to speak in a whisper.

"She ran to the break room, I'll go get her… And I'm not for sure, but that guy over there seems like trouble and won't give anyone his order or anything. We were just about to ask our manager to call the police and have him removed."

"Hmm…" Gohan looks over, the days of his vigilante justice flashing briefly in his mind when he gets a look at the man. Gohan doesn't love to judge, but the vibes of the man alone raise the hairs on the back of his neck. "Can I go with you to retrieve her?"

"Yeah, absolutely." The waitress nods and takes Gohan to the back where the lounge is, opening the door and allowing him in, leaving the two of you in private.

"Honey?" Gohan asks carefully. Something is definitely wrong, at this point. You're curled into a ball with your head tucked into your knees; and if he's not mistaken, it sounds like you're crying.

Dear Lord, forgive me if I have to fuck someone up tonight.

You sniff and look up at the light of your life— and subsequently surge into his arms as he gets closer to you.

"Baby…" Gohan murmurs, holding you in those deceptively strong arms. He's got every bit the look of a typical nerd, but underneath those clothes lie a very strong, durable Saiyan that should maybe train more than he does these days, but is still plenty strong enough to beat many, many foes. Especially human ones. "What's wrong?"

"M-My ex, Tyler, won't leave me alone." You sob into his shirt. "He keeps texting me and I tried ignoring him and I tried telling him to leave me alone but it didn't work and now he's here and-" Another sob breaks out and you lose your words, but Gohan's got more than enough information now.

"Is he that man sitting out there?" He murmurs lowly, body beginning to tense with adrenaline.

"Yes." You pull back and wipe your eyes, looking into Gohan's. "I'm sorry I didn't-"

"No, no." He says quickly. "You have nothing to apologize for. Not one single thing."

"But I didn't tell-"

"That doesn't matter, baby. You stay here— I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Gohan!" Your fingers curl into his white Henley shirt, holding him to you as best as you can. "You can't just…"

His warm hands cradle your face, swiping away your remaining tears with his thumbs. He looks at you as if you're a netherite ingot— the most valuable thing he could ever have. "I'm just going to talk to him. Okay?"

You falter, taking a deep breath. Of course your ex isn't scary at all to Gohan; he could obliterate the piece of shit with a single snap. And you know what lurks beneath Gohan's surface— the rage of the great beast within sometimes seems to buzz just beneath his skin. That alone should send your ex running.

"Okay."

Gohan smiles gently and kisses your lips so sweetly, so lovingly. "I'll be right back, okay? And then we'll go home and snuggle."

Your smile is hard for Gohan to break away from, but the memory of your tears anytime a nightmare arose that featured the man you used to be with is enough to pull him away from your arms and out to the table your ex is at, his back to Gohan's approach. Gohan sneers, the tingle of Super Saiyan crawling up his spine and he has to will it away as he firmly grasps the back of your former boyfriend's neck, leaning down to speak directly into his ear.

"Step outside with me. Now."

"Who the hell-" Tyler stops short when he turns his head and sees the fury in Gohan's eyes.

"Son Gohan." The half-Saiyan spits out. "Let's go." He practically drags Tyler out of the booth, his hold on his neck still strong. With just a simple squeeze, he could end this man's life as he'd nearly ended yours, and the beast on his shoulder yearns for it.

But he promised you he would only talk it out, and he'd certainly never break a promise he made to you.

Gohan releases Tyler when they're outside and at the perimeter of the parking lot, pushing him a short distance away. "Do you think harassing my girlfriend is going to do you any favors?"

"I'm not harassing-"

"She's asked you several times to leave her alone. And yet, you don't listen. What do you call it?"

Tyler's fists clench and god the fury inside of Gohan is hard to contain. This person, the one that tore you down to nothing stands before him, and words could never express the desires his primal, Saiyan blood has in the face of this cruel man. He's a threat to you, the one Gohan loves and will protect with his life, if needed.

Gohan speaks again before your ex even has the chance. "I love that woman with everything I've got. She means everything to me." He fishes a small box out of his pocket, opening it and showing Tyler the beautiful ring inside. "This is hers; it's just waiting for me to ask the question."

"Me and her have history, and if she would just hear me out-"

Gohan laughs rather menacingly, carefully putting the ring box back into his jeans pocket and stepping closer to your ex. "You still don't get it. She's with me now, Tyler, and she's happy."

"She was happy with me too."

"I don't doubt that she was at some point." Gohan shrugs. "Until you cheated on her, abused her emotionally and physically, and left her for dead in that old apartment."

Tyler blanches, as if he stupidly didn't expect Gohan to have the nitty gritty details. And that's when Gohan grabs him by his shirt so forcefully, pulling him close and ripping his glasses off his own face so he can truly look the scumbag in the eye.

"This is the only warning you get from me. Eye-to-eye, man-to-man. Leave my girl alone, and you won't have any problems. Understand?" Gohan growls, the inner beast screaming at him to destroy this man, to not even leave a corpse behind. He doesn't deserve to live, it calls. He hurt her, it reminds.

"I'm not fuckin' scared-"

With a roar, Gohan releases Tyler's shirt and instead slams his fist into one of the nearby trees, splintering it to hell as it's ripped clean in half by the single punch. The nerve of this fucking guy! Gohan glances over his shoulder as the rest of the tree falls to the ground, and he can't fight the smirk on his lips when he sees the coward running for the hills.

"Guess I made my point."

Gohan wipes away any pieces of wood from his clothes, pulling a splinter from his hand and grimacing lightly at the scratches. They don't hurt, but they'll worry you. He jogs quickly into the restaurant again, and smiles when he sees you're out of the break room and sitting at a table with that same coworker from before.

"Hey!" He greets you with a swift kiss. "Ready to go?"

"Yes." You nod and perk a brow, but wait until you're at the car to ask any questions.

"He's not gonna bother you anymore." Gohan prefaces as he opens the door for you.

"You're sure of that?"

"Well…" Gohan gestures in the direction their conversation took place in, and you gasp at the sight of the destroyed tree.

"Gohan!"

Even with the beast inside proud of his work, Gohan blushes with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't hit him."

Your arms slip around Gohan's waist and practically crush him in a hug. His arms are gentle in contrast, but so warm, like a blanket around you. He smiles again and kisses the top of your head before bringing you home to snuggle, as promised.

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shiggyniggy · 4 months ago

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On twitter I’m seeing dozens of threads from Black activists warning people against burnout, giving all sorts of useful tips about preventing and managing it for the sake of a long-term, sustainable effort.

On tumblr I’m seeing a hell of a lot of young white kids yelling at anyone who actually follows those steps, and acting like burnout is a moral falling rather than a well-proven psychological phenomenon.

Be careful who you get your information from. Don’t let guilt lead you to make choices that will harm both you and the movement.

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shiggyniggy · 4 months ago

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be mindful of why you're on tumblr to read fanfics readers, u see how i don't post hateful comments on other writers' works, cause that's very inconsiderate and not cutesy. instead, if i don't like the fic i simply stop reading it and move on to read another fic that i'll like, very demure, very respectful, very approachable. let's be mindful 🙄

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shiggyniggy · 4 months ago

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The Antithesis of Decay

made for @ficsforgaza’s Kinktober!

⬑ please check them out! ⬏

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x afab!reader

Content Warnings: Stuckage, fingering, dub/noncon, no gendered pronouns, but reader is described to have bigger hips than their waist (no big specifications though). meant to take place between s3 & 4

Summary: An escape through the alleyway ends in a terrifying run-in with a wanted villain.

Managed to write this entirely in a single day 😵‍💫 it gave me a headache doing it that fast but thank god i got it done! It was a lot longer than I intended (stuckage is hard to keep short akhsheja & i originally wanted to go full smut but then wrote too much) and was a little bit difficult to navigate cause I don’t think about shiggy in a sexual way BUT !! I DID IT!

This is also the first time I'm posting something I've written in present tense, I'm just trying to experiment and figure out how I like to write lol

Shiggy lovers i hope this is adequate!!

Another crash. Another roar. Another Nomu.

You're in the thick of it, beside a building, half-destroyed, and another one completely toppled to the ground. There's screaming and panic, citizens running in every which way to escape the crossfire. Another building is about to collapse, and the monsters take no hesitation in using it as leverage to fight.

There are other heroes here, maybe three, or even more now if there were any on patrol nearby; it isn't clear through the fog of dirt and smoke. It isn't enough though. None of you had the strength or stamina to fight against the group of Nomus that appeared. Especially not by yourselves, even if you barely outnumbered them. The rubble is building. The ground is practically shaking under their destructive hands. They have the absolute advantage.

Your quirk isn't built for such a fight, even as a pro, and your combat skills would prove useless against those monsters. You're meant to be more of a support hero than anything, someone usually waiting on the sidelines to rush in and heal the defending heroes in fights. The limits of your restorative quirk meant it was wise to steer clear from the heart of the battle and avoid being hurt, so the best course of action would be to run. Run and find backup. That's the most you can do for now; the most you can try to save what remains of that small city sector.

You choose your path quickly, remaining observant of the chaos around you. Cracked asphalt and concrete, dust flying everywhere from the destruction, debris from the second half-collapsed building scattered everywhere. The Nomus remain distracted by the other heroes, so despite the obstacles, there's a clear path to the closest alleyway. From there, if you can just reach the other side of the buildings and escape harm's way, you'll be safe to make the call.

You can make it, you believe — as long as you're fast. Confident, you take off, bound for the crack between two untouched office buildings nearby, the spring in your costume's boots allowing you to move more efficiently. With such quick speed, you nearly run face-first into the wall, entering it at an angle that's easy to correct with a simple push off against the brick. From there, the path is a straight shot to the other side, only separated by a feeble chain link fence. There's a hole that looks just big enough for you to crawl through at the bottom of it, the wire pried upward to create a gap. You can make it, you repeat in your head. The coast is clear, you can make it.

Stumbling to a stop in front of the mesh barrier, you drop to your knees as quickly as your body will allow, planting yourself onto your stomach afterward. The opening is much smaller up close, but it's nothing you can't army-crawl your way through. Your costume was made to be dirtied and protect you in the heat of conflict, so having it scrape across the rocky ground while you drag your way under the fence isn't an issue. Its durability was the least of your problems — until now, that is..

The elastic fabric snags on the wire once you squeeze your head and arms through the hole. Time is sensitive, you don’t have any to waste on something trivial like this. You try to reach back to untangle it, only to find the wire completely stabbed through.

With a heavy sigh and adrenaline crawling in your veins at the delay, you manage to move back a sizable distance before you try again, but it’s useless. The ends of the wires are sharp and stab into your suit with ease, holding you back. You needed to try something else, you needed to be fast.

Before you can attempt to force your way through the hole, a voice arises behind you. Raspy and hoarse, you don’t even realize he's there until he speaks.

“Oh, look at what we have here. A hero, is it?”

His approach is slow, and you only hear his footsteps once he's standing over you. Your entire body goes stiff, your blood running cold as you curve your spine back to look at him.

"Shigaraki," you whisper, terrified, under your breath.

"Oh, you know me already? How nice, I suppose we can skip the introductions then."

You can hear your breath hitch in your throat when he speaks and feel his presence as he looms right behind you, bending at the knees to crouch down over your legs.

"I've seen you on TV," he starts, and you hold back a scream when you feel four rough fingers gently touch the back of your thigh, "You've got quite the impressive quirk, you know. Restoration quirks are hard to come by. And yours…"

He pauses again, glides them up to where your hip and femur jointed together, and relishes in the way you shiver before he continues, "It's the exact opposite of mine. I guess you can only restore organic things, sure, but — it does make me wonder."

You're hardly listening to his little ramble, your heartbeat drumming too loud in your ears to process anything — but then, your head goes blank when you feel all five of his fingers cup around your hip. Panic sets in fast, and you find yourself writhing before you can think, trying to force your way through the fence. The metal wires only dig into your skin, causing even more pain as you realize you're hips are too big to fit, and you wouldn't have made it anyway.

Tomura only chuckles lightly at your reaction, watching the bottom half of your hero suit disintegrate into dust. You don't even realize it until you're already crying, and a cold breeze hits your face and bottom half. His hand is on you. Touching you. Feeling you, and yet.

You don't feel any pain. His touch is simply normal against your skin. His palm is surprisingly warm, but dry. And you don't disintegrate. You don't disintegrate.

Tomura laughs again at wide eyes and gaping mouth as if you should have expected his quirk to cancel out with yours. He slides his palm across your bottom, down to the back of your thigh again to caress it up and down slowly. Carefully. His touch lingers far longer than you're comfortable with.

"Your quirk activates automatically when it's your own body, right? I wonder how long I can keep doing this for, then." He speaks so casually, acting like you weren't trapped and half-bare under him.

"I've always wanted to be able to touch someone like this again. No gloves, no barriers. Just skin. When I saw you on the news and heard about your quirk, I thought you were perfect. Aside from that pesky hero stuff, that is," he frowned slightly behind the hand on his face, moving his own to grip at the fat of your ass, "You have no idea how frustrating it is to be unable to touch something without it falling apart."

You let out a loud squeak, feeling his weight on the back of your knees when he sits on them, squeezing and kneading your flesh in his hand. There are tears in your eyes, and you struggle to twist around to look back at him, where he sits proudly like a king on his throne. Seeing such a widely known villain — being face to face, but being stuck and having him touch you like this. It felt humiliating. Humiliating to who you were as a person and a hero. You felt sick to your stomach.

He frowns a little at the pathetic look you give him, only tightening his hold more, "Come on, don't look like that. I haven't done anything yet."

As he speaks, he slides another hand underneath you and pulls your hips up slightly, your spine beginning to ache at how it was strained. You can only shake as you watch him, the hand that was gripping your ass moving to slide a single finger down the center of your underwear, sending a large jolt up your spine.

In an instant, you look forward again, covering your mouth to hold back any noise you'd almost let out. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of making a sound, let it be cries or anything. So you force yourself to silence, even as tears roll down your face.

Tomura only grins, running the finger up and down the fabric a few more times just to feel you jolt before hooking around the lining to pull it off to the side, stuffing it between your thigh and outer labia to keep you exposed. You clench up at the cold air, another shudder roving through your body as Tomura holds back a chuckle.

Without another thought or word, he immediately dives in, his two fingers sliding between your folds, feeling whatever you can offer him before moving down to the bud below. You shiver, but are otherwise completely frozen as he does this, not even knowing half of what to do to retaliate.

"Not too wet yet, I see. That's ok, I can fix that." He says, beginning to prod around for that extra sensitive spot he knew you wouldn't resist. A lightbulb goes off in his head when you jolt suddenly, your hips shaking extra whenever he squishes or pokes at it. With a grin plastered under that embalmed hand, he starts to move his fingers around in slow, gentle circles.

The coarseness of his fingers doesn't help the sensation they bring on, that feeling of soft ecstasy pulsing through your body slowly like a drum. You hold back your sounds, at least, only your breathing growing heavy as he watches you clench around nothing.

It isn't enough for him. He needs more than this, he needs you prepared, and that wouldn’t come from just a few measly touches.

His fingers move faster, gaining enough friction that he has you audibly gasping, slick already building up just below. It doesn't take as long as expected, like your body is reacting on primal need. It almost makes him wonder — maybe you're getting off to the position he has you in, even if you don't realize it.

He gives you a few more minutes of soft touching, allowing a good amount of wetness to accumulate between your shaking thighs before moving his fingers up. He gathers your natural lube on his digits, humming as he slathers it all over your pussy to make it nice and glossy before dipping them back in, finally allowing them to take the plunge.

As if you weren't already amply humiliated, the way his fingers toy with you before pressing in is distracting enough that he manages to draw a squeak out of you the second he dives in.

"Ohh, give me more of that. Don't be shy." He says, sliding his digits out slowly, licking his lips at how slick they are before shoving them back in.

His fingers are so long, soaking knuckle-deep inside of you and reaching parts that your own couldn't. You would rather die at his hands now than ever admit it to anyone, but god, it feels good.

He's already moving them so fast, curling them all around like he's searching for something. It felt too good to be touched by someone like that. You haven't slept with another person for over a year, so it's like a new foreign feeling and an old friend all at once. You can't stop yourself. Your brain grows foggier with each drag of his fingers, like he's scratching an itch you couldn’t by yourself. You couldn't hold it back anymore.

You let out a quiet, croaked moan, covering your face with your hands to hide how embarrassing it is to indulge in something so crude with someone like him.

A wretched smile immediately dawns on Tomura's face, and he moves his hand even faster, trying to milk more sounds out of you before he moves on. He wants you to make more noise, to hear how good a disgusting villain like him is making a great hero like you feel.

From there, the sounds just spilled out. He’s surprisingly quick to find the smooth spot inside of you, pumping over it repeatedly until you’re a wriggling, gasping mess. The coil inside of you is winding up tight, growing ready to burst at almost any second.

It's so degrading, being face down in the concrete while a villain is digging his fingers so deep into you. But you weren’t thinking about that anymore. Your mind is too focused on how good it feels rubbing against your walls, the friction driving you crazy with how fast it builds up.

Then, like electricity in your veins, it comes crashing through your body all at once. The pleasure, the ecstasy. Your body practically vibrates against his hand, an unforgiving orgasm ripping through your entire system until you’re panting like a dog, still pulsing around him as he slowly removes his fingers and wipes them on your thigh.

As you return from your high, the quiet chuckling unnerves you. And then you feel sick to your stomach again. You’re still recovering, but you’ve come to your senses enough to look behind you.

The sight you see has bile rising in your throat. He’s already grabbed onto you again, unzipping his pants with one hand while he speaks.

“So, what do you think your little hero friends would think if you had sex with a villain?”

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shiggyniggy · 5 months ago

Text

Baby

Fluff Drabble - Shigaraki x f!Reader

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: fluff, and vulgar language.

& what I have to say is… This one’s pretty short but Tomura~. You would have loved Elden Ring, my dry and crusty king 🫶🏻

In order for you to effectively watch anything Shigaraki chose to play, you would have to lie horizontally on the bed with your elbow propped to hold you up. Most nights you would sit upright and lean forward in order to get the same view he did. But if you felt lazy you would opt to grab a pillow or plush to lie on. Usually, it would not matter that you fell asleep while he played. Shigaraki would admire your silhouette under the blanket while he waited for new lobbies to open up. But tonight, he downloaded something new. He had his controller hooked up so he wasn’t forced to be at his desk, and had his speakers on rather than wearing his headphones. Shigaraki propped his feet onto the bed next to you and whilst on your side, you would rub his leg soothingly as he played.

Most nights you had no problem watching through the majority of his gameplay, often giving commentary. But something about tonight was just too tranquil and soft. The sheets were washed and smelled like detergent, you had some cinnamon scented candle going and the game had just as dark, and as warm as room was. Shigaraki’s quiet and raspy voice was repeating some of the dialogue to himself and it was tickling your ears just right.

“I cannot believe this jerk gets to be in every installment.” Shigaraki groaned about some character designed to mess with the player but the developers made it so they were essential for certain game play. “I wish killing him had less consequences.” He muttered.

The clicking of buttons was softening your gaze. “Yeah,” was all you could let out.

Curling up was dangerous, sliding under the throw blanket was even more so.

“Damn it.” He quietly snapped.

Your head shot up as your grip tightened on his leg. “Wh- what happened?”

He leaned back and began to complain about how lagged the enemies move set was. “I know it’s supposed to be hard but I hate this shit, man.”

“Oh, yeah.” You blinked slow and relaxed your hold. “You’ll get ‘em, Shiggy. You always do.” You sleepily smiled and dropped your head back onto the bed.

He smiled at your hand before returning into the enemy's area. At some point the clicking muffled out, the background music stopped, and Shigaraki’s voice was dying as you fell into the warm spell that was sleep. If your hand had not slid off his leg, he wouldn’t have noticed that you fell asleep until much later. Shigaraki looked at the top of your head and watched the slow rise and fall of your shoulders, you snored a little and it annoyed him tonight.

The controller was dropped into his desk with a loud thud, and that didn’t wake you. The hard creak in his chair as it snapped upright didn’t wake you either, so he moved to the bed and began to pull off your cover.

You cricketed your feet as soon as the cold air hit them. With your bent knees up to your chest you woke up uncomfortably cold. Shigaraki wrapped himself in the blanket, leaned back in his chair and picking up where he left off.

“Hey,” you groaned.

He huffed and kept playing.

“Shiggy, that’s… yawn… that’s not nice.” You quietly pouted.

He didn’t say anything, giving you the cold shoulder. You sat up and stretched your legs, then your arms, and then stood up beside his chair. “You’re such a baby Tomura.”

“Says the baby that fell asleep.”

“And what a needy baby you are, Tomura.”

“And what a needy baby you are,” Shigaraki mocked to his screen as an enemy grabbed hold of his character and slammed it around. “Damn it!” He groaned a little louder.

You began to pull at the blanket and he quickly pulled it back. “No.”

“Are you serious right now.”

“You’re supposed to be watching.”

“Tomura.” You said.

Shigaraki bunched the blanket under his arm, and began to move his character back under through the smoke screen into battle. You stepped over his legs, sat on the edge of his lap and stared.

“Move.” He scowled.

“No.”

“I said to fucking move.”

“I said a fucking no.”

You squinted at each other as you scooted in from his knees, closer to his hips. With folded arms you said “I’m staying right where I am.”

Pushing the balled-up blanket further into his arm rest, you snaked your hands under his arms blanket snuggly tucked around and behind his shoulders. With your chest flush against his you obnoxiously snuggled onto his shoulder. Shigaraki didn’t protest. Instead, he placed the controller on the edge of his desk, draped the blanket around you both before scooting into his desk to continue the level. He kissed your neck like he was forgiving your slumber as you melted into him.

When you scooted back to adjust yourself, he groaned again and said “you're not going anywhere.” Squeezing you within his hold.

“Tomura your legs are gonna fall asleep.”

“I don’t care.”

“I'm not gonna get off your lap, baby.”

Shigararki flattened his gaze at his screen and loosened his hold, allowing you to maneuver comfortably before leaning again. He felt you slowly melt back into the warmth trapped within the blanket and could hear your breath slow with heart beat. He kissed your neck a couple of times and had to restrain from biting just to startle you for no good reason. When he finished playing, he leaned back again and drew lines up and down your spine without his thumbs before dozing off with you in his lap.

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shiggyniggy · 5 months ago

Note

tomura with hero reader whose quirk he's stolen, rendering them defenseless

Shigaraki Tomura

TW: slight nsfw, implied prev noncon, captive reader, Stockholm syndrome, implied mental break, mental deterioration, disassociation, manipulation, angsty, but also weirdly fluffy? reader is super fragile

gn reader

The chub of your inner thighs is still wet with the act. You rub them together for no other reason than that it feels pleasant. You trace the awful scars on his arm, using his warm chest as a pillow—the sound beating of his heart thumping rhythmically at your ear, a soothing presence.

He balances a red book atop your crown.

He doesn’t seem very interested in reading it—only regarding it with jaded eyes, a meager scoff then and there before turning the page. But still, even though the book didn’t excite him, it bothered you that his attention was elsewhere. It sowed the seeds of doubt and gave root to way too many intrusive thoughts, sprouting out and spreading like weeds throughout your mind, making your chest curl at the possibilities.

“Do you think I'm ugly?” you have to ask. You have to know, why isn’t he looking at you.

He pans away from the page, beady garnet eyes softening from scrutiny to nonplus.

Your question stunted him—nearly made him believe he’d heard you wrong. Why someone like you would ever ask someone like him something like that seemed beyond all reason. It would be the same if a flower asked gravel.

But then again, you’d become a little ditzy as of late. Or maybe you’d been so for a little while already. It’s hard to say—you don’t talk as much as you used to. You no longer scream either, though that had ceased even longer ago.

You continue to delicately run your finger over the tear where his tough skin meets the even tougher purple tissue as though mapping the damage. There’s a frown on your face. No, not a frown—a pout.

He thought for a moment to use it against you like he’d done everything else so far. Lie and say yes, tell you you’re about as ugly as he is—gravel—make you fall even further apart than what you were already. But something compelled him to choose differently.

“I think you're the prettiest thing in the world.”

Your pout is sucked between your teeth as you pick yourself up to peer down at him—eyes round and misty and something more, something strange—dare he say joyed?

You're scaring him.

“Really?” you choke out as if you’d been holding back a lump.

He hasn’t known how to treat you lately. You’ve become too soft to handle poorly—too frail to harass and too willing for him to feel the need to. Earlier, you'd even begged him to fuck harder and deeper—even cum inside. Actually, you hadn't veered away from his touch in a while. More like you've been embracing it.

He'd brushed it off as mere compliance at first, a state of meekness, weakened by being touch-starved, something that perhaps developed into a minor case of Stockholm syndrome.

But the way you're acting now—seems more concerning.

“Yeah,” is all he warrants as an answer. Though, he was curious as to yours as he begs the same question, “What about me?”

A smile graces your face then—there’s a comfort to it, a mild and affectionate one, unexaggerated, honest, as you smoothly swing your leg over his lap.

A look like that has no place on your face, especially when regarding him, and yet he finds himself hoping for more. He lays his book aside as you lean forward and doesn't stop you when you cup his face in both your palms.

“As far as I'm concerned, you’re not just the prettiest boy in the world—you're the only boy in the world.” You say it with a kiss, lips just as soft as the words leaving them. It shocks him, though he accepts and gives it back.

You close your eyes, laying your chest against his—he keeps his open to look at you. Observing and assessing.

You’ve truly become a whole other person altogether. A far cry from the tough hero you once were—the one who’d beat him within an inch of his life and leave him to choke on the blood.

“Will you stay with me today?” you ask against his lips—playing with his hair, looping the curly tresses around your fingers.

There’s a neediness to your voice, a certain desperation, a sadness—something lonely and something that reminds him all too much of himself. He feels both a strong urge to reject and soothe it all at the same time.

“No, I gotta go,” he says despite it. He had business.

You hide your face in his neck and continue with your tracing, now on the scrapes striping his throat where he’s raked his nails time and time again. “When will you come back?” Your tone comes out even sweeter, only a murmur mushed against his skin.

It nearly makes his heart twist. “It’s better I don’t answer that.”

It’s funny. Though the thought had struck him, he didn’t gauge any ill intentions. You could be asking, acting, plotting some escape based on the hours of his absence—yet somehow, with the way you nuzzle into him like that, as though you’re pouring your all-too-candid grief into him, he can't sense any other ulterior motive.

“Last time you left at this hour, you came back all beaten and bruised,” you mutter, now with a hint of bitterness—as if you’re cursing whoever hurt him under your breath.

It’s ironic. He sneers lazily, almost fondly, at the old memory. “You’re the one who used to beat and bruise me, remember?”

He’s truly curious if you do. Or if something’s spirited your past life away and left you like this—no longer an aspiring young hero, but something whose only value is warming his bed at night.

You arise, an appalled look of affront upon your face.

“No, that can’t be right,” you very nearly cry, as if the very thought was killing you. “I would never hurt you—I love you too much.”

Apparently, you don’t remember who you were at all.

“Love me?” he all but croaks. It’s a laughable prospect, and yet he doesn’t even smile. There’s something awful in his gut that prevents him. “Don't be stupid. You can't love me.”

Your face doesn’t drop its grimace, only further tears with forlorn outrage. “Of course, I love you!" you insist. "You’re my whole reason for living...”

You look so despaired—wrecked from his dismissal. The tears well quickly then slip down your face just as fast—and yet it isn’t the same crying as you used to. This time, it’s quiet—in wait or in dread as you beg the question,

“Don't you love me?”

It’s an unexpected one, and it quickly proves to be an existential one—even more so than your unnerving confession. Despite not wanting to, it leaves him to dig through the muck in his head he’d long ignored, down in the dark where he’d tried burying the truth he'd felt oncoming. He'd wanted to deny it, reject it, amend it, simply because it confused him too much to acknowledge—complicated things—changed things he didn’t want or need changing.

He wonders if it’s somehow proof of fate—even though he despises such a concept. That, no matter how much you practice free will, no matter how many knots you make upon the red string, the world will pull and straighten it out, and you’re left to realize you’d brought it all on yourself.

First, he took your quirk, then he took your body—your mind shortly followed—and now it seems he’s managed to take your heart, too.

There’s nothing left of you that isn’t his.

There was a time he’d frolic at the thought of having reduced you to such a pathetic ghost in a shell—back then, he’d do anything to destroy you—he’d surely shatter you into a million little scattered pieces if presented with the chance, make sure you were broken for good.

But that was the old him. Or rather, that was his dream for the old you—the hero he loathed down to his rotten core.

But the pretty misty-eyed thing looking down at him now, aching for his answer, wasn’t that person anymore.

And the truth is, the person you are now scares him more than that hero ever did.

You were… well, you were the person who warms his bed at night, the person who traces his scars and plays with his hair—the person who wraps themselves around him and keeps him from falling apart when he stumbles through the door into the tiny little room he keeps you a prisoner in. You're his.

This time, his heart does twist. He’s never before spoken the words that dance on his tongue, or if he has, they’ve been long forgotten and come out as dust balls as he affirms them now,

“Yes. I love you.”

There’s a flash of hope in your eyes, though it just as quickly diminishes—as if you don’t believe him.

Your lip warbles as you confirm it, “No, you don’t.”

More tears run silently down the tracks on your cheeks, gathering at the tip of your chin before dripping upon his chest—each one like a gunshot through something hollow.

“If you did, you wouldn’t go. You wouldn’t leave me here in this room, all alone.” Your nails curl into your palms where they rest atop him. You bow your head as though you can’t bear to look at him, as if it hurts. The next words come out beneath your breath, “How am I supposed to compete with the whole world?”

You’re making him feel like dying. The continuous twists of his heart feel as if you’re about to tear it right out of his chest.

He sits up and lifts your face. It’s strange, even with his two-finger gloves on. He doesn’t think he’s ever held you like this. Though, suppose it’s been a night of many firsts already. And here comes another,

“As far as I’m concerned, you are my world.”

There you are, the one thing he doesn’t wish to destroy.

Your sore eyes become round, then swell with different tears. There’s a hitch in your breath as you sigh through a shuddering sob, throwing your arms around his neck and clinging to him tightly—your body jostling while you rub your wet face into his neck, holding him close for comfort as if you're scared to ever let go.

He returns the gesture, though somewhat hesitantly, wrapping his arms around you and laying his head to rest against your shoulder.

And then, as he holds you—for the first time ever, fear of actually losing the fight ahead strikes him.

He hadn’t much cared about the outcome before. Either he’d destroy or be destroyed.

This wasn’t as simple. As said earlier, this complicated things.

But then again, it was even more of a reason to go.

“But I still have to leave.”

You part from him—the betrayal in your tone demanding his justification, “Why?”

Suppose, in some ways, this actually made things simpler—as that was a question he had no problem answering.

“‘Cause there are monsters outside…” He rests his forehead upon yours, gazing back into those terribly glassy eyes looking back at him as he speaks to you about your dear old colleagues. “Monsters who want nothing but to take you away from me.”

If only they could see you now, they’d know… you no longer want to leave him.

“So I have to go out there and make sure they have no chance,” he explains, almost like a vow, “You’re mine, and I’ll destroy anyone who says otherwise to keep you that way.”

The way your eyes melt makes him feel all fuzzy. It’s a special type of glee, a victory before the battle even begins—to see you root for him—so deep in love with him that you’ve forgotten you’re celebrating the onset of death to all of your former friends.

They probably wouldn’t be able to take you away from him even if they somehow managed to invade this very room. You’d sooner die than betray him.

And that makes him feel all the more ready for the war ahead.

“So kiss me good luck, and I’ll come right back to you soon.”

♡ SHIGARAKI TOMURA ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

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