#Shigaraki fluff

[keisukebajimipatron]

This hurt me more than anything in this life.

[phntxm]

} short & quick write

imagine you pissing Tomura off by taking a ton of selfies on his phone, printing your picture, and sticking it with clear tape behind his computer on the wall. or putting your face as his phone lock screen. (the first time he saw it, he accidentally decayed his phone, so he made a new shared album across devices to keep the photo after that-)

little did you know, that was the starting point of his secret folders of you on his phone.

if he locks his phone, you can only access to his camera, so you can take a picture but can't delete it or access his gallery.

one time he forgot that his phone was still on, and you opened his gallery, seeing a lot of photos in there. but he didn't mind, because whether you deleted them or not, he still had your picture in his shared album <3

if you asked why he wouldn't delete it, he'd say it was because he was "too lazy"

also, the picture you taped on his wall or used as his lock screen is still there xx

[ihrthoney]

accidental confessions

pairings: f! reader x dabi / f!reader x shigaraki

warnings: all fluff!

an: this was so fun to make! also please feel free to keep giving requests, i need more inspo and motivation ^^ (to the ones i didn’t answer yet, which is like 2, pls give me time! i want all my writings to be good and not forced out! i like making sure i give people quality!!)

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[mwah-chia]

chat i may be delusional but I full heartedly believe if shigaraki was real i could pull him

[arthurbristow]

Keep it close - Shigaraki x Reader

"Keep close," Shigaraki muttered, his crimson eyes scanning the bustling market around them. "I don't want to lose you in this crowd." His white hair fell messily over his face.

It was an unexpected outing, to say the least. The League of Villains rarely ventured out in daylight, especially to something as mundane as a game market. The two of you had left the hideout that afternoon, Shigaraki’s rare urge to indulge in some new video games coinciding with the League’s need for supplies. Dabi had been particularly insistent, his grumbling about running out of cigarettes becoming unbearable. So, with a list of groceries in hand, you accompanied Shigaraki to the market.

“Look at them, scrambling around for their mundane little pleasures,” he continued, hands twitching slightly as he spoke. “Pathetic.”

Navigating through the crowded streets, your eyes couldn’t help but notice the occasional glances and whispers directed your way. Shigaraki’s presence was hard to ignore, even if people didn’t recognize him. And you felt a wave of unease. The noise, the press of bodies, the constant motion—it was overwhelming. Your senses were on high alert, every fiber of your being screaming to find a point of stability. Shigaraki walked ahead, his posture tense but focused, clearly absorbed in his hunt for the perfect game.

The press of bodies around you intensified, and an accidental shove from an overenthusiastic passerby sent you stumbling. Without thinking, your hand shot out, grasping Shigaraki’s. The contact was immediate, grounding. Only a heartbeat later did you realize the full extent of your actions. His hand was bare — no protective gloves. A cold shiver ran down your spine. One wrong move, one slip of control, and you could be reduced to dust. Shigaraki’s Decay quirk was lethal, merciless. 

He stiffened, his head whipping around to look at you. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, but not entirely devoid of curiosity.

“I…” You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat. “I just… needed to hold on to something.”

His laugh was a harsh bark, but there was no malice in it. “You’re insane.” Tomura didn’t pull his hand away though, didn’t dissolve you into nothingness. Instead, his grip tightened slightly, with his pinky raised up in the air to protect you from being decayed on the spot.

The two of you moved through the market like that, hand in hand. It felt strangely intimate, a connection that defied the perilous nature of his quirk. The crowd seemed less daunting with him by your side, your anxiety ebbing away with each step.

Shigaraki led you to a stall filled with the latest games. His eyes lit up as he browsed through the titles, a rare smile playing on his lips. It was a side of him you didn’t see often, this almost childlike excitement. You couldn’t help but smile too, caught up in his rare moment of happiness.

“Found it,” he said, holding up a game with a triumphant look. “This is the one.”

“Great,” you replied, your voice steadying. “Now, let’s get those groceries before Dabi sets the hideout on fire.”

Shigaraki chuckled, “Yeah.”

As you moved to the grocery section, the crowd thickened again. Instinctively, you tightened your grip on his hand. This time, he didn’t question it, at all.

You quickly gathered the items on your list, your movements efficient despite the mass of people. Cigarettes for Dabi, snacks for Toga, and various other necessities for the rest of the League. 

Through it all, Shigaraki stayed by your side, keeping his head lowered, reading the information written on the box of his new game, your hand still in his.

Holding Shigaraki's hand was a paradox of sensations. His skin, surprisingly warm, radiated a heat that contrasted sharply with the chilling fear of his lethal touch. The rough texture of his calloused palm told stories of countless battles and hardships. Yet, beneath the coarse exterior, there was a vulnerability — a silent plea for connection. The knowledge that a single slip could mean your end made the experience electrifying, heightening every sense. It was like holding a live wire: dangerous, exhilarating, and oddly comforting all at once. In that grip, there was a fragile trust, a delicate balance between life and decay, and an unspoken promise that for now, in this moment, you were safe.

Eventually, you managed to complete your shopping list. Dabi's cigarettes, snacks and manga for Toga, and even a few items for yourself. Shigaraki, meanwhile, had amassed a small pile of new games, his crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

As you reached the entrance, you reluctantly let go of his hand. 

He glanced at you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You apparently liked holding my hand, hmm?" Tomura cooed, his tone softer than you’d ever heard.

"Yeah…" You replied, feeling a warmth spread through your chest and flush claiming your cheeks.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "Just don’t make a habit of grabbing my hand. Next time, I might not be so careful."

[d1s1ntegrated]

Im honestly in love with ur headcannons i just cant stop reading them 😭 do u think you could write some hcs about how u think reader bathing/showering with shigaraki would be 👀

AHHH THIS IS SO CUTE YES?!

bathing w shiggy hcs (some nsfw)

･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ

before you came along, shigaraki didnt know how to fuckin bathe properly

he basically just rinsed clean with cold water and bar soap cause no one really taught him how

so the first time you brought him in the shower, he was in shock

how could one person need so many soaps????

definitely tried to make a shower potion with them secretly at some point

shampoo, conditioner, bar soap, gel wash, scrub, deep conditioner, face washes, shower lotion...

you walked him through it slowly, starting with shampoo

his favorite part, btw

your nails scratch against his scalp slightly and he just untenses immediately

then you wash him with a gentle cleanser and a washcloth for his skin

mfer hates loofas

like they freak him tf out bc one time he had one and it completely unraveled like a fuckign snake and he threw it

you guys use warm water at first but not too hot because his skin is sensitive :(

then do a really cold rinse to keep his hair and skin soft (he hates this part at first but then gets used to the chill and just stands there like a wet puppy)

not even in a sexual way, he'll get hard from just seeing your naked body, he cannot fathom how beautiful you are

shower kisses>>>

baths are even better

you guys take one weekly for his skin

he likes bath bombs a LOT. the first time he saw one he was so confused

oatmeal and honey baths are his favorite because it makes him feel so soft and helps the itching

doesnt like the feeling of lotion on his skin but puts up with it for you (while groaning about how he doesnt need it)

he likes to be held in the shower/bath, it warms him up

shakes his hair off dramatically

a lot of the stuff he was supposed to learn he didnt, like shaving and properly washing his face so you taught him

does that thing where he just sits in his towel and stares at the wall for upwards of an hour if you dont tell him to get dressed

you also do that tho

sometimes its just nice to sit man

he doesnt like shower sex cause its "too hard"

meaning he slipped one time and got scared

he's very conscious of his hands when you shower together cause he has to take his gloves off but he wants to grab you so badly

:) i hope this is good!

thank u for the request luv

[joi-me-hoi-me-noi]

MHA trying to ask you out (Gone Wrong)

A/n: I decided to try an idea that just popped into my big bulky brain because yes! This features: Mirio, Tamaki, Shigaraki, Midoriya & Bakugo

Extra A/n: Requests are open, feel free to request anything!

TOGATA Mirio -

He first met you after the fight with Overhaul. You and a bunch of students with healing quirks rushed into the room. Right before he fainted from blood loss, he saw your face. You were beautiful even with the serious expression on your face. You watched in amazement as he rushed out of his hospital room to go see Sir Nighteye.

When he got back to UA, he was helping students train by using him as a civilian in need. While coming back into the school, he saw you at the window. You looked up, saw him and waved. He waved back while Nejire watched with a smirk.

"You like her, don't you?"

"I do."

"Wow! So forward Mirio! Are you gonna ask her out?"

He nods. The thing is you are the second person to ever make him nervous. Like extremely nervous. You had a somewhat serious personality. He's rarely seen you smile. That's his main goal!

"I'm going to ask her out tomorrow!"

When tomorrow came, Mirio was sweating so bad. Even Tamaki was frightened.

"Mirio, you could always wait another day."

"No, I'm gonna do it today!"

You were usually in the medical office alone since Recovery Girl said you were fully capable of doing so. You see his tall frame in the middle of the doorway and peer over. A single pink tulip in his shaking hand.

"Did your stitches open again?" You question, quickly standing from your chair.

"N-No. I'm fine Y/n."

You raise an eyebrow at him and then eye the tulip.

"I-I wanted to ask you something Y/n."

"Go on."

"Would you like to go on a date-"

All of a sudden, he goes through the floor and his clothing. When he reappears, he's bare, booty, butt naked! Now you're both flustered and in complete shock. You turn your back to him and let out a breath. He can see your shoulders moving slightly. Were you laughing? He couldn't help but smile when he heard your snort.

"I - I haven't laughed like that in a long time! But yes, I will go out with you Togata."

He hands you the tulip and smiles at you.

"I'm glad!"

"You're still naked Togata."

"Oh right..."

---

AMAJIKI Tamaki -

He always thought you were pretty; he's seen you around school sometimes. He was walking with Mirio and Neijire to go to Class 1-A when he saw you rushing to class. You gave him a small wave before continuing to your class. His face went red from the interaction.

"Someone caught your eye, Amajiki?" Neijire said, elbowing him softly in the arm.

He simply let out a groan and kept walking. During the representation of the Big 3, all he could think about was you. Even at lunch, he was just thinking of you and sighing. A confident person like yourself wouldn't want to be with him anyway.

"How about you just ask them Tamaki. It wouldn't hurt."

"It could."

"How about we all come with you to talk to her. We'll keep our distance."

He couldn't believe he agreed to those terms. He was extremely nervous already. Neijire found out your favorite flower and where you eat the most. He saw you talking to your friend outside, the sun making your skin and eyes glow like stars.

"Let's hurry Amajiki." She shoves a bouquet of [F/f]s into his hand and opens the door for him.

Soon your friend walks away and leaves you at the fountain. You mess with the water with your quirk. Amajiki approaches you nervously.

"Hey there, Amajiki! What's u-"

You catch sight of your favorite flowers and then Neijire in the background who was looking but quickly directed her attention back to Mirio.

"Are - Are those-" You couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the flowers. That's why Neijire was asking you those questions.

You take the flowers from Tamaki, accidentally brushing hands. Tamaki starts to fall backward into the fountain, but you use your quirk to gently cradle him with the water. You see Neijire and Mirio rush over to see what happened to Tamaki.

"He - He fainted. I can assume what he wanted to ask."

"And?" Neijire inquires, staring between you and Tamaki.

"I'll let him know whenever he wakes up. Will me answering directly make him faint again?"

"Probably..."

---

SHIGARAKI Tomura -

(Takes place right before the battle in season 7 :) )

You were the one that gave him a lot of things. Dare I say a purpose. You were All for One's right hand and helped Shigaraki get started. AFO ordered you to stay with him for the first couple of years and then come back to him to work. Shigaraki's feelings grew for you after he saw what you could do and offer. He invited you into the League of Villains, but you declined and explained why you couldn't join.

He blamed his 'father' for being such a pain in the ass. You'd came back once and only once talking about a certain kid that AFO wanted for his quirk. But he can finally see you, without his father taking you away from him. He could almost cry when he saw you.

"Y/n..."

You turn around and face your boss. The city was in ruins all around.

"Shigaraki."

He walks over to you and leans against a big piece of rubble.

"I wanted to ask you something, if we're both alive after this."

A loud blast of wind shoots through the sky and you both direct your attention there. It's the kid that he was after. He brings you in for a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Get as far away from the city as possible."

He shoots into the air and leaves you amongst the rubble.

"WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANTED TO ASK ME!?"

---

MIDORIYA Izuku -

As soon as Izuku saw you walking down the hallway to your next class, he gathered his courage to speak to you. He simply waves and you wave back as you walk over to him.

“Hey Izuku! What’s up?”

“Y/n, what class are you coming from?”

He looks you up and down, noticing the stains on your face and clothes.

“Oh, Hatsume blew something up again and I was trying to help her fix it. We’re both fine, thank goodness.”

He nods along and adds onto the conversation before asking you a question. At least trying to…

“Y/n…”

“Izuku…”

“Would - would you like to go-“

All of a sudden, he is gone in a flash. You frantically look around trying to find where he went. Iida snatched him up by his hero costume and bought him right in front of their classroom. He runs back up to you and looks at you while adjusting his glasses.

“We were talking Iida…”

“It’ll have to wait, you should get to class L/n.”

Iida runs back to class 1-A and drags Izuku inside. His face was very red. Even from far away you could see it.

———

BAKUGO Katsuki -

He really loved your quirk and you of course. He just didn’t know how to say it. He would stare at you a lot but turned and pretended to do something when you looked his way. To his friends, it was absolutely adorable how he was treating you.

He helped you during training and always shared some of his snacks with you. His friend group would watch in amazement, he was very territorial with his spicy chips and noodles. And they finally decided to confront him about it.

“Do you like L/n?”

“What are you trying to say?!”

“Why are you dodging my question?” Mina raised an eyebrow and smirked.

He simply scoffed and munched on his chips.

You entered the common area with a blanket wrapped around your shoulder. You said hello to everyone before sitting down next to Bakugo.

“I thought you were going to bed L/n.”

“I was but it’s so fucking cold in my room. I came out here to sit next to my personal heater.” You lean on Bakugo’s shoulder.

His friends whisper to each other before fake yawning and saying they were heading to their rooms. You say bye to them and huddle close to Bakugo.

Katsuki could feel his face heating up. He was unusually sweaty. He’s never sweated this bad before, only when in combat for his quirk.

“Y/n. Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm…” Your tired eyes looked into his red ones.

“I…I.” He looks at your lips and then back at your eyes. You’re smiling.

You’re both leaning in closer to each other and slowly closing your eyes. Then the door opens wide to reveal Deku. He came back from his run and his eyes widen when he sees the both of you.

“Uh… I’m gonna go.” He quickly speed walks to the hallway as Katsuki glares at him.

“Damned Deku…”

His eyes meet yours again and you both lean in again. You hear someone’s throat clear but ignore it and try to continue. Your eyes shoot open when you see Aizawa standing there, using his scarf to pull you both away from each other.

“It’s past curfew. Go to bed.”

———

A/n: Again… requests are open and check my pinned post to see who I write for.

Check out the master list here —> link

[tyinghershoe]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Unscented |

Shigaraki’s hands were as soft as Tenko allowed them to be.

Pairing: Shigarki/Tenko x Reader

Genre: fluff/oneshot/drabble

check out my masterlist!

You’d love to one day write parallels about Shigaraki’s hands.

How the fingers that wreaked havoc upon Japan once held you with the lightest touch. That, yes, they’ve caused pain and suffering - but at the same time, you’ve never felt anything softer.

They never said Tenko wasn’t human. 

Your first encounter with him was as expected. Shigaraki was always on guard, his eyes distant as they glanced you over. There was a moment of silence as this took place, the wooden floors creaking each time you shifted your feet, you wondered if this was the only thing he listened to as time passed (there was no room for conversation with just him and himself).

Rumors of the League were whispered in every alley you turned to, and while you never considered yourself a villain, the thought of being a perfect fit for society was just as incomprehensible. You noticed the flaking of Shigaraki’s palms and wondered if he would’ve ever fit that mold. (One day, when you’re both better acquainted, Tenko will help you shape your own).

“I wouldn’t call you a villain,” Tenko whispered to you one night, his voice barely audible over the creaking floorboards. The bar was still, with you two the exception, enclosed between the dim lighting from the lamps above. This was the closest you two have ever been, your fingers gently placing globs of lotion onto the webs of his hands. They weren’t as rough of a texture as you imagined, the skin feeling delicate beneath you. Perhaps it was the brand you bought this time.

Those eyes, once distant and wary, were now soft as they met yours. “You have yet to kill anyone,” he persisted, his tone somber and solaced. “And as far as I’m concerned, you still work a 9 to 5 job, just like the rest of the world.”

“I have yet to pay off a parking ticket.” You confessed, your voice filled with a type of guilt. The alcohol here was less than holy, yet the man in front of you offered acceptance, one that was devoid of judgment. There was a dumbfounded expression as he closed his eyes, allowing you to softly trace the irritation away as your thumbs gently soothed his flaking face - you wondered if this source of discomfort was physical or something more.

“I won’t sell you out.” He deadpanned, before turning to you with a menacing grin, “But seriously, I destroy everything around me. They call me a murderer and yet you’re still here. You’re still here.” Shigaraki grunted, his eyes turning dark and distant as if it were your first time meeting.

There was only a hum of acknowledgment as you finished aiding his inflammation. It’s times like these in which Shigaraki was unpredictable, but you were only ever worried for his sake. Tenko was always an impulsive man. “I’ve never felt safer,” you murmured, rewarding you with a scoff of disbelief. 

“You’ll regret saying that if you ever turn to dust.” He mumbled, the threat empty. His (now soft) hand wrapped around your wrist, yet they held no real malice - you made it a point to ignore the fact that his pinky has always been raised.

-

a/n: How many months has is been since I last posted a fic? My age is showing in the sense that it’s hard for me to sit down and write all the time, but the mha hyper fixation is back, so hopefully the desire to write comes with it! This is my first time writing anything that isn’t Izuku Midoriya, I’m trying to branch out of characters that I’m comfortable with, but I promise I’ll post more of him soon.

Thank you for reading!

Follow me on ao3 @tyinghershoe

[ghostcore3]

stressed so i decided to draw fluff

[kitkat13001]

𝄞 𓍢ִ໋ ✮⋆˙ 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚞𝚜

⤷ tomura shigaraki / tenko shimura x reader

⤷ au where shigaraki grows up normal, emo loser neighbor pining tomu, rambunctious reader, inspired by “me & my dog” and “not strong enough” by boygenius, you can all thank kisa for this

tomura wishes he was as brave as you. 

you always say whatever you’re thinking, no matter what it is or who’s around or whether or not it makes sense. 

you always know what you want, even when you don’t. tomura never knows what he wants, even when he does. 

it’s always been like this, ever since you were kids. you talk, you yell, you joke, and tomura listens. he runs after you when you take off sprinting. he sits you on his bed and puts bandaids over the scrapes on your knees after you’d tripped from running too fast, from pushing another kid over on the playground.

tomura wishes he was more like you. he wishes he’d speak up when other kids made fun of him. he wishes you didn’t have to fight his battles for him. 

he spends a lot of his time wishing things, staring up at his ceiling fan like it’ll magically make these things come true. 

you don’t wish for things. in tomura’s eyes, you reach out and bend reality to your every whim. things work out for you like that, he thinks. you mold the universe with your bare hands and wring every drop of life from it until you get exactly what you want. he admires your tenacity, he really does. he just wishes it would rub off on him. 

you’re sleeping over at his house again. it was raining when school let out, and you had got into another fight again. he’d noticed the way you winced on the way home as the water ran over the raw scrapes on your elbows and knees. so he took a page out of your book and spoke up. 

he feels stupid bringing it up, insisting you stay because of the rain like you don’t live just a few houses down. he’s eternally grateful you don’t bring this fact up and instead shrug and agree to stay the night. 

it’s not the first time, and it’s probably not the last. you follow him in, kick your shoes off at the door and stand dripping in his bedroom’s doorway as he rummages around for spare clothes for you. 

he turns his back while you change, and then you both sit on his bed in silence. there’s been some strange tense energy in the air all day. you’ve been quieter than usual. and tomura’s never been good at filling the silence. 

he’s grateful for a split second when he hears you speak. 

“tomura, do you like me?”

and then it hits him. god, he could just die. 

“how do you do that?” he asks in an embarrassed sputter before he can stop himself. 

“do what?”

“just say things like that!”

you blink at him. “like what?”

“like you don’t think about it a million times before you say it.”

“i don’t?” you tell him, and he wonders how someone can look so beautifully confused. 

tomura buries his burning face in his hands, unable to even look at you. 

your hands are soft when you pull his arms away, soothing away the itch on his skin before it forms. 

“tomura, why didn’t you ever tell me anything?” you ask him quietly, eyes like a campfire in the night boring straight through his own. 

“i can’t…i’m not…” he’s scrambling for purchase on reality now. you’re so close he can feel the warmth coming off your face, smell your faint shampoo and perfume. “i wish i was more like you,” he whispers finally. “i’m not good with words, and i…”

he trails off and you shake your head a little. “tomura, i don’t like you because you’re like or not like me. i like you because you’re you.”

every time he thinks you can’t possibly surprise him more, you do. your hands are warm against his where you’re holding them in your lap. 

he wants to ask you why, how, why, why why? but he doesn’t. he just lets his eyes close when he sees you lean forward a little to kiss him. 

and then, nothing. he opens his eyes after a minute and you’re standing there, barely an inch from his face. your lips almost brush his when you speak. 

“nuh-uh. if you want me to kiss you, say it. tell me you want me.”

“i want you,” his whispers immediately, like a prayer. almost against his will, just because you told him. 

so you smile, huff a little, and lean in to kiss him just like he’d asked. 

maybe he can be brave, tomura thinks. at least, with you by his side. 

icons from pinterest (not mine) and divider by @/cafekitsune — this has me feeling some typa wayyyyyy ugh loser bf shiggy has a VICE GRIPPP on me. anyways this is dedicated to kisa (@/shigarakislaughter) and their very big big brain, thanks for putting me on boygenius 🫶🫶🫶

[luvlyycy]

tomura smooshes his face against your chest, arms wrapped firmly around your soft body— he lets out a sigh, "sho shofftt.." he mumbles only for you to giggle in response.

you place your hand atop his head, running your fingers through his hair, delicately scratching at his scalp.

"you get all clingy after you game, huh?"

he mumbles out a long 'noooo' , nuzzling into you more. how can he not get clingy? you're so soft n warm— he loves it.

"did you win any games?"

he nods, "yeah, four outta seven." he looks up from your chest to look at your eyes, his normally pale cheeks a soft pink.

"that's not a bad ratio." you giggle out, poking his nose. he scrunches his nose up, glaring at you— too cute.

[doumadono]

was wondering how tomura shigaraki and dabi would respond to a female reader after she lost her parents to criminals and no hero came to save them? if you have any questions to clear things up dm me

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

Dabi

It was one of Dabi's rare quiet moments, where he let himself sit in his usual slouch, one leg draped over the armrest of a tattered couch, fingers tapping rhythmically against his knee, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers as his gaze was fixed on a ceiling. Smoke curled from his lips in lazy spirals, painting hazy shadows across his face.

You sat across from him on the tattered couch, your eyes unfocused as you stared at the TV.

The news had just aired another report, praising a group of heroes for their brave intervention in rescuing civilians from a hostage situation.

Dabi’s eyes had flicked toward you, catching the way your shoulders tightened, your hands clasped so hard your knuckles turned white.

You looked as if you were barely breathing.

“Something eating you?” His voice broke the silence, casual but carrying an edge that forced attention. You startled, turning to him, and his narrowed eyes tracked you through the hazy filter of smoke. “You’ve been weird ever since that report.”

You looked away, struggling to keep your expression blank. “It’s nothing. Just thoughts.”

“Oh, don’t pull that on me.”A flicker of impatience creased Dabi’s face, and he took another slow drag, eyes half-lidded as he exhaled a plume of smoke that seemed to linger, heavy and expectant. “Is that right? So, nothing’s had you looking like you’re gonna crack any second?” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he fixed you with that sharp stare. Dabi’s voice was sharp, almost bored when he asked, “Since when did you start lying to me?”

His tone was flat, but it twisted something inside you, dragging the words from a place you thought you’d buried. “It’s 'bout my parents,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “They… They were killed by criminals. They were just waiting for someone — anyone — to come and save them. But no heroes came.”

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the faint crackle of Dabi’s cigarette. His gaze hardened, mouth set in a sharp line as he took in your words. “So they were stranded?” It was hardly a question.

You nodded, and he scoffed, flicking ash to the ground, his hand flexing like he was picturing crushing something far less innocent than a cigarette. “So, let me get this straight. These heroes get pats on the back for doing the bare minimum, but when it mattered…?”

“...They didn’t come,” you finished, the words rough, each syllable scraping against the memory. You let out a shaking breath, turning to Dabi, unable to hide the raw hurt. “I know it’s pointless to dwell on it, but I thought heroes were supposed to help.”

He laughed, a harsh sound with no warmth. “Heroes. Yeah. All they care about is their damned spotlight.” He took another drag, the smoke curling between you both like a veil. “Let’s be real — they don’t give a shit about people like you and me. We’re the background to their big, showy heroics.”

You looked down, feeling the truth of his words cut into you, bitter and sharp. “I thought they were good,” you murmured, more to yourself than him.

“Good?” Dabi scoffed, his voice was low, dangerous, tainted with a resentment that felt as familiar as it was twisted. “They’re parasites. They want to look good, sound good. But the moment they’re out of the spotlight?” He exhaled, the smoke carrying his words, thick and full of venom. “You’re just another nobody left in the ashes.”

Slowly nodding your head, you fidgeted in your spot a little, trying to find a comfortable position while pulling your knees under your chin.

“You know,” the fire-quirked villain started, voice dripping with venom, “I’d bet anything that bastard Endeavor would spit on corpses if it meant climbing one step higher on his precious ladder. Hell, he’d probably grin about it, too.” He let out a slow, bitter chuckle, smoke curling around his face as he leaned back, cerulean eyes fixed on you. “Heroes like him? They’re all about that damn rank. Doesn’t matter who they trample or leave behind in the dust.”

You flinched, the thought of a hero so revered by the world doing something so heartless hitting you like a punch to the chest. But as you looked at Dabi, saw the bitterness carved into every line of his face, you knew he believed it with every fiber of his being. And somewhere deep down, you found yourself believing it, too.

“He’s proof that heroes don’t care,” Dabi continued, his voice low, almost a growl. “Everything they do, it’s for the spotlight. They’d let the whole damn world burn if it meant looking like gods when they finally swoop in to save the day."

He took another drag, then exhaled slowly. “They’re not worth the damn pain, you know that?” He leaned closer, close enough that you could smell the smoke mingling with the faint scent of burned leather on his coat. “Let it go. You’re wasting your breath on a rigged game. Aim that anger at the right people.”

The cigarette burned down to its last smoldering inch, and he let it drop, grinding it into the floor with the heel of his boot. His voice softened, but it was no less cutting, each word sharp and unrelenting. “Don’t waste your grief on them, on people who’d rather walk over your bones than lift a finger to help. If you’re gonna feel anything, let it be anger. They’re the ones who deserve it. People like us? We learn early on. Heroes don’t save us. We save ourselves.”

You swallowed hard, his words settling into your chest like smoldering coals. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Dabi."

"Anytime," he playfully tapped your nose before grabbing the remote to change the channel.

Shigaraki

The news hit like a brick thrown through glass.

Shigaraki had been leaning against the tattered, peeling wall of the League's hideout, his usual impatience masked beneath an outwardly calm stare as the TV anchor praised the hero squad for their latest rescue. The words commendation ceremony and heroic intervention dripped from the screen, followed by footage of the smiling, grateful civilians they'd saved.

That was when Shigaraki noticed you — frozen, your eyes locked on the screen but devoid of focus. He knew that look too well.

Without a word, he turned off the TV with a sharp flick. The silence was jarring. Everyone else had left the room, leaving only you and him in the shadows, and he could feel the tension radiating from you, thick and unmistakable. “Something’s eating you,” he muttered, voice low. He approached you slowly, each step deliberate. You stayed silent, hugging yourself as if shielding against memories that had started seeping through the cracks. “You haven’t been yourself. Not for a while now.”

Your mouth opened, as if to speak, but the words refused to come.

Shigaraki's gaze tightened, his face cloaked in shadow as he leaned down, his pinky finger raised delicately as he cupped your cheek with his calloused hand. The contact was surprisingly gentle, yet his grip left no doubt about his intentions. “I don’t like being ignored. Especially not by you.”

It was a whisper, barely more than a breath, but it shattered the barrier you’d been holding up. You swallowed hard, then looked up into his crimson eyes, feeling his hand burn against your skin like a brand. “My parents…” Your voice cracked, trembling with the ache of unspoken pain. “They were killed by criminals. They were just normal people. They thought heroes would come to save them.”

You told him everything. That people waited but no one had come. No heroes had appeared, not even as everything you loved slipped away.

When you finished speaking, you looked down, twisting your hands together, waiting. Waiting for some kind of response, some words of comfort or outrage.

But he was silent.

You glanced back up, and what you saw made your heart stutter.

Shigaraki was scratching his neck, his fingers digging into the skin, red welts rising beneath his nails, his lips pulled back in a twisted half-grin that didn’t reach his eyes. He looked haunted, unhinged, every bit of him coiled tight with a rage you could feel pulsing in the air.

A tear rolled down your flushed cheek, your chin quivering.

A beat of silence passed, and then another. Shigaraki’s red eyes sharpened as he reached his hand out to wipe the tear off with his thumb. "So no one came.” His voice was dark, edged with something colder than empathy — an understanding that cut straight to the bone. His hand stilled, but his fingers curled tightly against his neck, his knuckles white with the pressure.

You shook your head, hands clenching as the memories clawed back up, dragging you under. “No one. They… They died waiting.”

Tomura sat beside you, leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes narrowing as his voice turned colder. “They left you to rot. Left you to suffer so they could keep up appearances.” His lip curled, and he shook his head slowly, that dark, knowing smirk twisting his face. “Heroes… The real disease of our world."

He watched you, eyes half-lidded, barely blinking. He had no soft words, no platitudes, but his presence was a comfort laced with something darker, something real. “They pretend to save everyone, wear their titles like armor. But they’re weak, selfish, just waiting to play hero for the cameras.”

The flicker of resentment in his voice pulled at you, like kindling to a flame. He didn’t flinch, didn’t try to smooth over the pain — he let it breathe, feeding off your anger as if it were his own. The tight line of his jaw, the way his shoulders stiffened, all betrayed the depth of his own hatred.

“You’re right,” you whispered, the words feeling sharp in your throat, sharper than they’d ever felt before. “They don’t care about people. They never did...”

His hand moving back to your face. “Then stop hurting over it. They’re not worth your pain. They’re nothing.” His thumb traced along your jaw, an unexpected tenderness threaded through his quiet fury. "I want to rip them apart,” he uttered, his tone low and venomous, voice shaking with the intensity of his hatred. “Every single one of those worthless fakes. I want to watch them decay, feel them crumble to dust.” His voice dropped even lower, so quiet you barely heard him. “I want them to suffer.”

You nodded, feeling the first glimmers of solace in his touch. It was twisted, tainted by anger, but it was real.

He leaned closer to you, simply placing a kitten kiss to your cheek before saying, “No one else gets to hurt you like this.” His voice wavered, a hint of something raw, vulnerable, beneath the anger. “Not while I’m here. Not while I can do something about it.”

[mwah-chia]

i fear i have sucked the shigaraki x reader tag dry… i cannot find anything i haven’t already read

[d1s1ntegrated]

I really like your headcannons! I’m curious on if you’d be willing to do some for sleepy Shigaraki?? Like maybe what he’d be like in the morning or just how he’d act in general while in desperate need for a nap lmao

yes yes omfg thank u so much for the ask!!!!!

sleepy shiggy hcs

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏ ⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⋮ ⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀☆⠀⠀⠀ ⋮ ⠀⠀⠀ ☆⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⋮⠀⠀⠀⠀☆ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ☆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⋮ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ☆

hes a night owl, so he stays up well into the break of dawn most nights. only once the sun starts to crest will he drag himself off his game and tumble into bed.

he gets really whiny when he's tired. you notice that if he stays up too late, he speaks a lot less and when he does, it's mostly mumbling.

drinks a LOT of monster/redbull to keep himself up all night

he likes to deny he's tired, but if you ask him to nap with you, he'll immediately stop what he's doing and lay down with you (he always falls asleep first)

doesn't really snore but talks in his sleep sometimes, usually saying things as if he's talking to an animal? he says "fetch", and "baby" a lot. (im so sorry for this one)

takes a lot to wake him. even with the loudest alarm setting, he'll sleep right through it.

extra clingy in the early morning. he'll keep grabbing at you if you try to get up, grumbling about "five more minutes" and "cuddles" :-:

always asks you to rub/scratch his back.

prefers being little spoon, because he feels safer that way.

sleeps in the weirdest fucking positions. one time you woke up to his feet in your face and his head hanging off the end of the bed.

blanket hogger for sure. he gets cold at night

has frequent nightmares and will wake up multiple times, only to see you sleeping there, and he'll move right in and lay on you to comfort himself.

before you, he had an anime body pillow, but you made him throw it out (he was only slightly mad).

has a secret stash of plushies under his bed of his favorite video game/anime/cartoon characters (your personal favorite is the bmo plushie) (you make him put it on the bed)

has minecraft pjs and actually loves them

however he rips his clothes off after about twenty minutes of laying down because he starts to "feel tangled".

when hes reaaaaally tired, he'll go silent and just make weird hand gestures at you. youve learned what each gesture means by now.

his sleepy voice is raspier, but also higher pitched. he also says some WEIRDO shit when hes tired.

definitely gets zoomies pre-bedtime

okay this is all i have for now!

hope this sparks joy <3 tysm for asking love

[tomurasmoleunderhislip]

[sawbiter]

solace - shigaraki tomura

- cw : fem!reader, fluff, small angst, implied mental illness w shiggy, very small post !

-

tomura shigaraki clings to you like he will die if he lets go.

he's a hardened villain; he shouldn't be this weak to you. but, one look from your soft and loving eyes and he's weak in the knees. he just- he loves you so much, and he's never felt that before. this is new territory, you were his first everything. he was a shut-in before you came along, only really going outside for villain purposes.

but now you, his cute and sweet little girlfriend wants to go on dates? wants to go to the arcade and win shitty little prizes? sign him up, he'd never let you go without him. what if you got hurt?

before you, tomura never took care of himself. his nails were long and sharp, his hair was greasy and filthy and his skin was flaky and smelly. but, once you came along, and you saw how little he took care of himself, your eyes filled with something he hadn't seen in so, so long. empathy.

you washed his hair, put on his skincare products and clipped his fingernails. you washed his clothes and helped him clean his room. you got him out of that hopeless, depressive state he'd been in for so long; only ever cleaning up for missions that required it.

you stayed when he would snap at you, when he thought he was undeserving so he pushed you away, yelling, throwing fits and threatening you. you were patient. you stayed. every effort he made to sabotage your relationship was pointless; you knew he didn't want you gone.

tenko, despite wearing gloves, will never touch you with all five fingers. he knows he's a monster, but he wouldn't even want to risk hurting you. he confesses this to you in a hushed whisper late in the night, scratching his neck with his nails til blood drips down onto his black hoodie. you smiled at him, holding his hand away from his bloodied neck and looking at him with love in your eyes. “you're not a monster. not to me.”

shimura tenko, who clings to you as he cries, your loving whispers providing him solace for the first time since he was 5.