#Yandere Shigaraki Tomura
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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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Platonic yandere shigaraki HCS with a younger sister who's the daughter of AFO? (Since he's readers adopted older brother since AFO adopted shigaraki)
Yandere Older Brother Shigaraki Tomura
“This is the little sibling I was telling you about. Would you like to hold them?”
“But my quirk–!”
“Not this time. Trust me.”
It was hard not to pull his cradled arms away when AFO unswaddled and slowly lowered the baby down
Visions of his past
His quirk’s awakening flashed violent through his mind
Tightly shutting his eyes in fear
he feels the warmth and substantial weight in his arms
Opening his eyes to see a darling little baby cooing at him
Giving a gummy smile when he lets out a little chuckle in disbelief
“This is (Y/n). You’re little sibling.”
“My little-?”
“Yes. Will you protect them?
“YES!”
From then on it was history
It’s been him and his newfound family against the world
Even with his old notfamily he wasn’t the oldest
And now you’re immune to his power letting him connect with you in a way he just can’t with others
All that being said he’s a doting big brother
“(Y/n). Are you giving the nanny trouble?”
“Psh! It was only a mud pie!”
“Really? That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“They threw it in my face!!”
“It was meant for the pillow! Honest!”
“If (Y/n) said it was meant for the pillow then it was meant for the pillow I see no problem here.”
Because AFO is AFO the way you’re raised will really dictate how he watches over you
If he’s not the only one doting on you but your father dearest as well you can expect to always be miles away from the action
Kept in the boonies or shipped across the world
If AFO demands it you will see no such thing as a world he doesn’t create
But if you’re just another tool of his then you both will start to get competitive
“Awww heard about the little incident in Kamino! Heard you couldn’t get the job done!” “And I heard about your little excursion with the American division.”
“Pft! it was more so just a distraction.”
“Oh yeah? Is your enemy weakened and out of the game for good?”
“Grrrr.”
“That’s what I thought little Padawan!”
“Grrr shut up!”
If AFO completely ignores you and keeps you only because Tomura wants it
Or because you have too many features like your late uncle
He’s dealing with a rebellious little sibling that he’s intent on tracking down
Whether you’ve decided to side with the heroes or strike out on your own
He will make it everyone’s problem that you’re not in his custody
“You seem to forget (Y/n) that as your older brother, I’m going to protect you…whether you like it or not.”
In whichever universe you are the apple of his eye
And he refuses to let you leave it
Whatever plan AFO has for him can wait if it doesn’t mean you safely within his grasp
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Lessons
TW: dark content!!, yandere!shigaraki tomura x female reader, noncon/dubcon, implied kidnapping, degradation, humiliation, begging, anal fingering, piv, tomura is mean, mdni. wc: 2k Synopsis: Tomura thinks it’s time you learned an important lesson.
"I got something for you today."
Here he goes again, you think as you watch Shigaraki place a white plastic bag onto his desk. It’s hard to fight the roll of your eyes, but you do. He’s been in a mood lately and you don’t want to push your luck more than you have.
It’s become routine, you and him.
He gets too close, you tell him off. It surprises you that he actually listens and instills some kind of confidence in yourself — in your words. Maybe you have more power over the situation than you thought.
The rustle of the bag catches your attention and you watch as he pulls out a few things. An energy drink, a small box of what looks like bandages and a small bottle of clear liquid.
Your brows raise, interest piqued and you sit up a little straighter to see better.
“What do you—?”
He holds the bottle up and your face scrunches in confusion. His smile is one that sends chills up your spine and you have to will yourself to stop being antsy.
“Lube. It’s for you!” He says like it’s a birthday gift you’ve waited all year for. “You’ve been so… mouthy lately, I’ve decided to give you something to mouth off about. Won’t that be fun?”
The question is rhetorical and you no longer fight your antsy movements. Rushing to your feet and taking a pointed step away from Shigaraki, your eyes narrow, “what are you talking about?” You’ve never had to use lube. He’s just taken what he’s wanted and your body adjusts every time — as much as you hated it.
He places the lube back onto the desk and grabs his energy drink, cracking the can open and taking a sip of the sugary sweet soda. He was calm, patient — eerily so.
After he’s had his fill of the drink, Shigaraki looks to you and nods his head in the direction of the bed. “Get on it.”
Your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest as you held your hands up to the man before you. “Wait, Tomura, we can—!”
“Oh?” He cuts you off, voice lifted and mockingly playful, “I’m Tomura now? But you were so comfortable calling me shigaraki.”
He places his drink can back on the desk and fully turns toward you. “I didn’t stutter. Get on the fucking bed.”
You knew his patience was wearing thin, but you still had to try. Taking a shaky breath, you get onto the bed, sitting down on the edge of it.
“On your hands and knees.”
Your blood ran cold, and you tried once more, searching your brain for any sweet words that could placate him. Desperate to find something, anything he would like to hear from you, “please—“
He’s in front of you before you can blink, large hand grabbing your face and pressing your cheeks together, “I’m done playing these games with you,” you can smell the sugar from the drink on his breath as your breathing picks up, pricks of panic lacing your body.
Shigaraki crashed his lips into yours, wasting no time slipping his tongue into your wet mouth. The taste of sweet energy drink was nauseating but you kissed back in fear of what he would do if he didn’t. You’ve exhausted all options and you knew, deep down that anything more would only make things worse.
He pulls away, a trail of saliva following as he meets your eyes — and god, his smile. He’s giddy like a kid on Christmas and you regret every act of defiance you’ve made against him these past few weeks.
“Cute.” Was the only word he gave before you were being manhandled onto your stomach, face in the pillows and ass in the air.
“You know,” he muses, pressing his clothed erection to your panties, “I’m starting to think you want this. You want to see me angry so I can put you in your place.”
He backs away to pull your underwear down in one swift movement, making you reach back to attempt to cover yourself. This only irritates him more as he grabs your wrist and pins your arm behind your back. The angle is as painful as it is uncomfortable.
You hear him shuffling around behind you, no doubt one free hand of his own making things more difficult — and you take small pleasure in that. It’s short lived though as he seems to find what he’s looking for and you brace yourself for the inevitable.
There’s the pop of a cap and then smooth cold liquid dripping down your backside and over your hole that makes you shiver. You feel frozen as the liquid trails lower and lower until it’s past the heat of your cunt.
All it takes is the press of a finger to get you putting up a fight once more. there was no way he was really doing this. He’s never tried this.
“I shouldn’t even prep you, honestly,” he mutters and you wince as one of his digits slowly push past the ring of muscle. “You’ve been so defiant. You really need to learn some manners.”
The tears streaming from your eyes are making the pillow below you damp and cold, but you can only sniff in response. “Tomura, please—“
“Please what?” He sinks the finger deeper and you can’t hold back your yelp of pain.
You shake your head as much as you can, “please stop! It hurts..”
He pulls out suddenly and you think he’s actually going to listen — that he’s actually done torturing you until-
A hand swings down and slaps your ass, making you cry out. He imitates a buzzer sound before gripping the fat of your bottom, “wrong answer!”
You thrash more as panic wells up inside when you feel the prodding of two fingers instead of one against your hole. “You know, this is supposed to be your punishment,” both won’t fit and he resorts to only letting one finger penetrate, his other hand massaging the cheek of your behind. “But I’m afraid you may like this too much.”
He is delusional. Shigaraki is the one that’s having the time of his life watching you suffer and writhe. You try to pull forward and away but the hand that was massaging your ass is now grabbing your hip and holding you in place. Your cry is loud as you feel the pressure of another finger join the first and shigaraki wastes no time pumping the digits in and out of your hole.
You think your crying and begging falls on deaf ears — forcing you to accept the inevitable and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere else but here. You could be dropped off in the middle of the Sahara Desert during a summer heatwave and it would still be miles better than this hellhole.
Just when you’re about to surrender to your fate and stop fighting it, shigaraki speaks again, “Since I’m so kind and understanding, I’ll give you a choice.” it’s like he sensed you were on the verge of checking out. That would just be too easy. “Which hole do you want me in? Hm? Tell me.”
He’s gripping your hip tighter and you know there will be bruises formed but your mind could only focus on this awful option.
You don’t want him in either. The idea of having to tell him which way to violate you only made you nauseous. But you knew that you had to make a choice because it was always worse when he made one for you.
“M-my..” you feel sick, swallowing your shame and squeezing your eyes shut as you continue, “I want you in my.. pussy.”
You could practically hear the smile in Shigaraki's voice, “yeah? Beg for it.”
He wanted to humiliate you, this was the real punishment. To build you up, give you a false sense of security only to break you down even more. He was sick.
But you were sicker because you did exactly as you were told.
“Tomura, please. Please fuck me.” You turned your head, as if you could hide your shame into the pillow below you, “I need you.”
“Atta girl.” He praises, pulling his fingers out and you sigh in relief, nerves calming and shoulders relaxing. You almost melt into the sheets until you feel the pressure of shigaraki’s erection against your cunt. The lube is there and making things wetter than usual but the squeeze will still be uncomfortable.
You look back, worry lacing your features, “wait, Tomura—“ but you don’t have a chance to finish, he pushes into you, girth stretching you and making your toes curl in an odd combination of pleasure and discomfort.
Shigaraki lets out a sigh of relief, rocking his hips at a steady pace before leaning over you. “Fuck, that’s good.” The hand gripping your hip moves to cup your breast, tweaking the sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger.
This was familiar, this was easy. It was not uncharted territory and it was something you could convince yourself was okay. Normal, even.
“Mine, mine, you’re all mine” he babbles into your ear and you don’t turn away, terrified he’ll go back on his words if you do.
His pace is picking up and you find yourself getting lost in the motions. His body rocking against yours as he changes the angle and oh—
He hits the spot inside and you can’t stop yourself from moaning out. It’s sensitive and it makes your back arch with every deep stroke.
“Fuckin’ slut, I knew you’d like this.” He mutters, circling his thumb around your unoccupied hole, the lube making it slide with ease, before pressing into the tightness. The pain is dull and the pressure of being filled so much almost sends you over, dragging a whine from the back of your throat.
The bed shakes from the force of Shigaraki’s thrusts and you feel heat pool in your lower abdomen. You were so close and you hated it. Hated him. But when you felt his warm hand move from your breast, down your stomach until it was splayed out over your cunt — pinkie finger lifted and middle finger brushing your clit with every thrust.
You were beginning to feel dizzy with pleasure and your head fell onto the pillow, hands gripping the sheets below to anchor yourself as you got lost in the feelings. It was overwhelming and you couldn’t bite back your cries and Shigaraki’s thrusts became erratic, he was close too.
All it took was one more thrust to sweep you over the edge, eyes rolling back as your thighs shook — orgasm claiming you.
“Oh, fuck.” Shigaraki breathed, stilling as his own waves of pleasure overcame him. You barely registered the pulse of his cock as he came deep inside of you.
You both try to catch your breath, time seeming to still as you panted. Shigaraki was the first to move, you felt him pull out and pause — no doubt watching his cum drip from your cunt — before taking his place next to you on the bed.
The quiet of the room is deafening and your eyelids feel heavy. You’re as still as a mouse, not wanting to stir and risk him starting up again, but his eyes are already closed. You almost think he’s asleep before he speaks again.
“Next time,” he starts, stretching before sitting up, “I won’t be so kind. So you should clean up your nasty attitude.”
You nod, dread weighing down your efforts. There wouldn’t be a next time, if you could help it. Regrettably, you tremble at the thought as you realize this is the exact lesson he was trying to teach you.
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Dreaming Seamless Dreams [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]
Title: Dreaming Seamless Dreams [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]
Synopsis: Follow-up to And The Danger Danger Drawing Near Them. what happens when Shigaraki Tomura decides he gets to keep you?
Word count: 3000ish
Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, non-graphic noncon, noncon groping, depression, loss of appetite
When it’s quiet–which is not always, depending on who decides to stay awake and how soundproof the current hideout is–you think too much.
Like right now. It’s too quiet, and your thoughts are starting to hop around. Jumping from thought to thought. Thoughts about the rose-tinted past, the uncertain future–though the future was perhaps not any less uncertain than your present.
It becomes too much, too easily. Tears inevitably pool in your eyes. Your throat gets tight, your stomach hurts. You curl up and curl up until you can’t possibly twist inward anymore than you already are, leaving you with one pitiful lament:
Why do you have to think so damned much?
Maybe it’s because Shigaraki isn’t here at the moment. He’s talking to the League, you think. It must be at the other end of the building, because you don’t hear a peep from anyone. No arguments, no shouts, no excited agreements on what hero they were going to try to kill next.
Just you and your thoughts and the dim buzz of the world at night. Insects, somewhere outside. The occasional groan of a night wind. The sound of the world itself, fuzzy, buzzy in the background.
And when you’re actually alone in bed like this, arm curled up against the pillows propped under your head, tucked into a blanket, you can pretend. Pretend that it’s your bed, in your room, and with the quiet and lack of your captor here, well–
It’s almost like it was before.
The thought hits your gut hard. Tears instinctively reach your eyes, and you’re glad Shigaraki isn’t here to wipe them away. You do it yourself, like you would have done before all this. You didn’t appreciate your life enough, you’ve since realized.
A quiet life where all you did was work your job and come home and occasionally go out with friends for little things. Coffee dates, heading to the bookstore, shopping for clothes. Ooing-and-ahhing over the little changes of life dropped into every conversation.
A quiet life where you were free to do what you wanted, when you wanted. Where you weren’t a prisoner (not that he’d call you that, no matter how many times you said it earlier on) bound to the whims of someone who claimed to love you, even though his love was more want than love.
A quiet life where you didn’t hear people talking about destroying the world through the wall.
The thought gets choked out when your breath hitches. It hurts too much to think about, the loss of your old life.
And anyway–
The door creaks open and Shigaraki pauses in it. Like a monster in the closet doorway, hovering, waiting for just the right moment to strike.
Your eyes squeeze shut like a child, willing the image of genuine sleep to project over you like some sort of hazy fairy tale. Willing yourself, too, not to take a peek and look at him. If you don’t see the monster, it doesn’t see you. Or so you used to think, as a child. When naivety was normal, and not wish-fulfillment.
Maybe tonight, he’ll go to bed without demanding something from you. Maybe you can pretend to be home, in your own bed, and ignore the hum of his wants.
The weight of his gaze covers you like an extra blanket before he mumbles, “I know you’re awake.”
Ah. It’s pointless to keep pretending. So you shift yourself up in the bed and let the blanket drop from your chest, exposing the used t-shirt he gave you to sleep in. One of his, of course. You still don’t look at him, not directly. You settle for staring at his legs. He’s wearing shoes.
“Where were you?” The question comes out softer than you meant it. If you’re too soft, he thinks you’re being sweet on him. The reality is that you’re just too damn tired to argue sometimes. Maybe he knows that, actually; maybe he likes it better that way.
You can hear the damned smirk on his mouth when he finally speaks.
“Did you miss me?”
That damned smirk fades, you know this through sheer muscle memory, when your unspoken no hangs in the air between you.
He’ll be annoyed, that you weren’t more receptive to him. That can be bad. It can be good, though, on occasion. When he’s too annoyed, he sometimes decides to huff and puff and leave you alone.
But not always. It can make him angry; make him grab your arm and yank you around, pull you close and remind you of his quirk. Death under his fingers, rot and dust, so stop acting like such a damned brat all the time.
In the middle, though, there is a strange sort of ambivalence in him when you don’t do what he wants. It’s worse, in some ways, when he acts like this. Like nothing you say has any effect. You’re nothing, weak, a buzzing, useless thing that might as well be quiet for all the good protest does you.
It reminds you just how little say you have in everything.
Because sometimes–like tonight, you realize, in just a few moments–it doesn’t seem to matter much to him at all. Because in the stretch of a few moments, he’s on the bed, tugging off his shoes and tossing them to the floor with a loud clunk.
Because he doesn’t just remove his shoes–his trousers and shirt goes with it, leaving him in his boxer shorts and worn-out socks and nothing else.
“I don’t–” you begin, when he begins to crawl his way up the mattress, towards you, towards the blanket you feebly bring up against your t-shirt clad chest. The words get stuck in your throat as he grips the blanket, a finger on each hand carefully tucked to the side, and yanks it down.
You don’t miss the warmth so much as you miss the ghost of protection it gave you.
“Wait,” you try again, as his body takes the place of the blanket. Just as warm, but far more intrusive, caging you in with nowhere to go. His hair hangs down against his cheeks as he takes
you in, and even in the dimness of the room–the moon filtering in through tattered curtains letting you see enough–his intentions are apparent.
Before you can protest further, his hands are on you. He unceremoniously gropes your chest and you let out an awkward sound that is far too much like a pathetic bleat as his fingers grope and squeeze; first your chest, then down, down, past your stomach and lower. Tickling and itching and unwanted.
“Stop.” The word finally comes out, peeled off like an old bandage. “I don’t–I don’t want you to–not right now. Not tonight.” You can’t fend him off forever. You know that. But when he’s good–and this is a stretch of the word, you know–he does listen to you.
He’s not listening now.
Because he doesn’t stop. Instead he leans forward, and presses a hot kiss against your mouth. There’s too much warmth, from his breath, his tongue, his body against yours.
“Not tonight,” he tells you, batting aside your protests like a gnat. Another kiss against your mouth, and you fight the urge to press it shut. “I want you,” he continues, voice lower, darker. His fingers flutter against the edge of the shirt and lift it up, pushing it against your collar bones, exposing you fully.
His breath comes in slow and he leans back just a little, taking you in. What must be your flushed expression, you think. Helpless and prone under him, bound to his whims.
Bound to listen to his thoughts, too, when they come low and sickly sweet.
“You’re so pretty, you know?”
So you’ve said, you think, bitterly, as his hands go to pull down the waistband of his trousers.
“Shigaraki–”
“Tomura,” he corrects. There’s a force behind his voice that wasn’t there before, and you feel yourself shrink inside.
“Tomura,” you force out, even though the name tastes dry on your tongue. But maybe if you act sweeter, he’ll listen. Maybe so. “Please. I don’t want to.”
Maybe he considers it. Maybe not. Regardless, he leans in again, this time pressing his kisses against your neck. Your chin jerks up slowly at the sensation. It’s not the first time, not the last time either, that he gives you hickies.
“Well, I do want to,” he murmurs, the words melting into your skin with his breath. He must feel you still underneath him, the way you stiffen, the way your breath comes in tighter. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure it feels good. I promise.” His teeth drag against your skin and you feel his fingers fumble against your underwear.
You will hate yourself in the morning for the relief you find in his promise.
–
It gets harder to live like this. Harder to do anything other than sleep and cry and regret. Some days, you don’t get out of bed at all. You don’t eat, you can’t be bothered to ask for a shower or even a toothbrush. Thoughts of treats–books you want to read, a game you’d like to play–get pushed to the back of your brain with anything else that no longer matters much.
Why bother, when the world is coming out so wrong?
It is Tomura who tries to drag some life out of you. Tomura who makes you shower, who watches you eat, who tells you to get up and walk around the room. Who sits you down in front of a video game and shoves the player two controller into your hands and says, curtly, “Don’t make me die on this level or you’ll regret it.”
One day you even tell him that it’s hypocritical, because he doesn’t take great care of himself. How often does he subsist on scraps of junk? How often does he sleep too little, or not at all? It’s bullshit, to expect you to do all of that when he can’t be bothered.
At this, his expression shifts and you almost start to feel sick with worry, but then, it becomes clear. He looks–happy. Not happy like he is when you submit underneath him, a greasy sort of joy that makes your stomach hurt.
But almost–light. Almost bright. Almost a sort of happiness that peels away a layer on him and shows you something else underneath.
“You’re worried about me, huh?”
It’s a slap in the face. It’s also, sort of, maybe, a little bit true.
“I’m not,” is all you can say, but he only smiles and shakes his head.
“It’s cute,” he says, before pointing at your half-finished meal. Some yogurt with a vague fruity flavor, a piece of bread, some slices of beef that was too overdone. “Now eat the rest. You need protein.”
It’s ridiculous, the way he hovers over your meals sometimes. Usually just on the days where you don’t want to get out of bed or do anything but stare at the wall and contemplate how life led you here.
You stab at the yogurt with your spoon and have half a mind to throw it at him. Only half, though, so you have to be satisfied with your yogurt-stabbing. Petty thought it is.
“Don’t test me,” he says, that edge of warning still there–always there, you think. Always ready to be pulled out of his pockets like a bare hand, all 5 fingers at the ready. “Just because you’re cute doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want.”
He’s right on that mark, at least. What you want doesn’t matter anymore.
What hurts the most is the question that immediately comes afterward, like an unwanted fly in the house:
Did it ever matter?
–
“It hurts.” Your voice rings hollow, even to your own ears, despite the earnest wish to put some truly nasty petulance behind it. But true petulance, the kind that made your gut warm and brain smarmy, required an energy you no longer had; not here, in these cramped spaces, this isolating life.
(Isolating, you think, but not isolated. Not with the leader of the League of Villains clinging to your every breath. Not with the constant chatter and clatter of the League, sometimes far away, sometimes right on the other side of the wall.)
Tomura Shigaraki’s hands still, and the comb gripped in not-quite-all of his fingers goes still against your scalp. For a moment, you think he’ll huff out a sigh, and threaten to punish you. Tie you to the headboard or the radiator and leave you there to think about things;
“It wouldn’t hurt,” he says, continuing to tug with the comb, “if you would stop squirming.” A nearly fruitless effort on his part: while you’d relished the initial gifts of self-care you were given once you “calmed down enough,” you eventually realized there was no point to it.
Why bathe, why keep your hair nice, why do anything at all but lie down in whatever bed you were given at the latest League hideout and contemplate the utter shithole of your existence?
Easier to rot in bed, to cry yourself to sleep, to squeeze your eyes shut and try to block out his arms around you, his breath on your neck. His words in your ears; how much he loves you, he wants you, you’re his-his-his.
Nothing to be gained, from a life like that. No, that’s not quite right, is it? You do have one thing–and it’s a modest consideration, in your isolated, depressing world. But even you can’t deny the satisfaction of bothering him.
It’s the one thing you still have any control over, after all.
“I wouldn’t be squirming,” you shoot back, voice tight and tart, “if you weren’t combing my hair.”
There is something satisfying in the brief stillness that follows–the quiet shock when your barbs have just enough audacity to make him shut up–before the air crackles with a familiar heavy irritation.
You know what’s coming even before he does it.
“You–” He bites down on the word, foregoing the comb to scratch at his own neck. When you crane your own neck to see, there they are: the scratches, which might turn into deeper gouges depending on how his mood shifts. Enough to bleed, sometimes, depending on how hard he digs.
It’s enough to make your breath hitch. Uncomfortable memories come flooding in. The days when you were unruly. When you spit in his face. When you told him you hated him, you hoped All Might would kill him, that you’d never feel anything but spite and hate and–it was like you were back in your house.
Back in the closet with fear making your stomach clench so hard you thought you were going to puke. Back when he destroyed your door and your life in one fell swoop. Back when you heard those damned words–”You’re pretty”--and the world went upside down.
You’d felt nothing but fear that night, being dragged away from your life among strangers–the girl kept tittering and someone made an ugly remark about what he wanted with you and all it had taken was a stern look from Shigaraki and everyone went silent. Except for you, sniffling, crying, begging for this not to happen.
But it did happen, and he took you, and he could be mean but not always. You could tell, when he was going to be mean. There were signs. His voice got tighter and tougher, he snapped more easily. And he scratched, usually.
Like now, his fingers digging into the skin, with–
Blood. Suddenly there is the familiar taste of it, all warm iron leaking onto your tongue. In your fear and flinching, you must have bit down on your cheek without realizing it and Shigaraki must have realized.
Must have seen the way you flinched and shrunk into yourself at the sight of him getting too annoyed. Bordering on angry. Bordering on being the Shigaraki on the news who kidnapped you that night, not the one clings to you in bed, who presses kisses to your cheek with scratchy lips, who offers to let you play his video games if you eat your whole lunch this time.
He likes it better, you think, when you see him like that.
Because now he’s cursing, crouching, kneeling in front of you with thumbs wiping away the hot messy tears.
“Shh,” he croons. It’s a familiar sensation, too, this feeling of his thumbs rubbing down your cheeks. He does this on the days you don’t get out of bed, sometimes. When the tears simply fall, leaking onto the pillowcase, and you can’t tell him exactly why you started–other than the basic truth. That you want to go home. That you don’t want to be here.
He keeps it up, this ritual, until you stop sniffling; until your body comes down from the mountain high of anxiety and lets you sail down to something a bit more like a gentle calm.
He waits until you look at him again, eyes all puffy, to speak. His voice is softer now. Less irritation, and more instruction. Like you’re some beloved pet who needs to be talked to before they go off to the veterinarian for their shots.
“If I don’t take care of your hair,” he says, and a thumb reaches over to tuck a piece behind your ear, “you’ll get knots.” He picks up the comb again, and this time you feel too worn out to fight. “You could get infections on your scalp.” To this, you murmur, something noncommittal.
A bit of a smile in his voice–and on his face–now that you’re quiet, letting him do it, even when he hits a knot and it tugs your head sideways. When you sniffle, he coos, and you vow not to sniffle, whimper or anything remotely pathetic for the rest of the night.
If you can manage it, with what he says next.
“After this,” he says, and the smile takes on an edge you don’t like, low and warm, “we’ll see about getting you a bath.”
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🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃
Shigaraki Tomura x Fem! Reader
Good girls should just stay home, lest something goes bump in the night.
cw: NSFW • Implied Murder • Implied Serial Killer • Consensual Non-Consent turned Non-Consensual • Noncon • Dubcon • Abuse • Fingering (F) • Oral (M) • Deep Throating • Rough Sex • Attempted Murder • Hair Pulling • Degradation/Slight Humiliation • Dacryphilia • Yandere Themes • Kidnapping • a little OOC • This story possessed me and basically wrote itself • Barely proof read tbh
wc: 7k+
Something must be wrong with you.
Or at least, that’s what you imagine the world would think if anyone knew what you were doing.
The room was dark aside from the blue glow of your computer screen. The black web browser with red lettering almost ominous as your eyes scanned the consent form again. It was a consent form just to access the full website, on the surface serving only as a dating type of situation for the BDSM community. Beneath it though were layers deeper than what the simple description actually provided. You only found out about it through a deep dive into multiple sub-threads of Reddit. It was a basket case of crazy, the majority of information or advice, but you managed to dig up one reliable looking source.
This website you were currently on. L@ce&R0pe.com happened to provide a wide variety of goodies, from sex toys to actual published books on shibari, there wasn’t much you couldn’t find. Except like all websites not swallowed up by the deep web, there was never any section like the one you wanted so desperately.
Except this one, because your mouse didn’t hesitate to shift and hover over the drop down section for MEET, where you could link up with real people for whatever your heart desired really. You trailed down to NEW FRIEND, and clicked. A new tab opened, this one themed differently than the main website. It was light blue and pink, almost like a baby shower, except the only thing on the page was a single drop down menu, and clicking it made your head ache. There were thousands of options, but thankfully it was organized alphabetically, so you could easily scroll mindlessly until you hit the C section.
You found what you wanted, clicking it as your chosen option and hitting GO.
The screen changed, this time it looked similar to a dating profile fillable. You worked quickly, efficiently even, as you typed all your information in.
Not your name or address, nothing silly like that. Just your measurements, your favorite foods or beverages, the color of your eyes, your hair color, your height, and even the style of your nails. It asked if you liked to brush your hair everyday, how often you showered, what shampoo or body wash you like. You answered them all, as invasive as they soon became, you never wavered. What brand of deodorant do you use? How often do you clip or file your nails? To what length? Do you shave your pubic area? How often? What style? How many sexual partners have you had? Where have you had sex? Which hole do you prefer? Are you a crier or a screamer? Does blood turn you on? Do you like physical or mental pain more? Have you ever been raped before?
They got more personal and physiological as you answered. You felt hot and stuffy despite the window being open and the cool autumn air blowing in. You kept answering even as your throat got tighter and unease nestled into your clavicle.
Do you want to know who your new friend will be?
This time you do hesitate. Knowing would make it feel safer. Knowing would give you some semblance of control. Knowing would be the smart choice.
You clicked “no” and submitted the form, sealing your fate as your hands shook and adrenaline pumped through your veins.
You set the date for October 31st. Now all you had to do was wait and show up.
A notification hit his phone, lighting up the screen as cigarette smoke billowed around him in the back alley. A quick glance was all he needed to unlock and fully see the entire screen. The leather of his jacket rubbed against the brick he leaned against.
Halloween was probably the best time for such fun, crime rates skyrocketing and parties being loud and wild really left a big gaping hole for any type of heinous activity to occur. He grinned as the information poured onto his screen. His dick already becoming painfully hard as he read all your supplied information. You liked breath play, having someone spit in your mouth, even being slapped around. He was always amazed by the lack of shortage for sick freaks like you, but then again, he was one of them too. Licking his top lip, tongue piercing flicking out to rub against his cupid’s bow, he clicked “ACCEPT” on the notification. He had all your information, the when and where, and your adorable little comment of “Please don’t degrade me.” What more could he ask for? His smile is sinister in the low light off the neon sign of the bar, casting a purplish hue on his skin as he chuckles and shoves his phone away. Flicking his cigarette butt onto the dirty ground, he cracked his neck and knuckles before going back inside to finish his beer and round of pool with his friends.
He’ll see you on Halloween. He might even dress up a little for the occasion.
It’s cold.
It’s nearly November so you hadn’t expected warm weather necessarily, but it seemed chillier than usual despite your fairly insulated dress.
You dressed up as an angel, the irony not lost on you at all but it felt fitting almost for the occasion. The pristine white looked off in your surroundings. It was nearly midnight, but despite that the sidewalk of the park was filled with a fairly regular crowd of people passing through, on to the next party or home to sleep off all the alcohol. Really, you weren’t too out of place, in your white stockings and black heeled boots, the fluffy ruffled white babydoll dress that barely covered your ass or tits and the wings which were strapped around your shoulders and jutted out behind you. On your head was a slim clip which was attached to a white shiny halo that seemed to float above you, only a thin wire keeping it up. You’d at first felt a little exposed passing children going home for the night after trick or treating, eyes of judgemental families which you ignored boring into you, but now it was time for the adults to have fun. You’d already passed a plethora of college students or older dressed even more scantily than you, making you feel better, safer, out in the park you’d chosen. You’d chosen 0300 as your designated meetup time, but specified you’d be early in case they wanted to start sooner. So here you stood, under a streetlamp that illuminated you in a yellow glow, making you seem even more angelic despite the ominous darkness surrounding you. You were busy playing on your phone, scrolling mindlessly and trying not to appear too excited. Or scared. You figured it was a combination of both, the arousal and fear bleeding into one very specific but unnamed emotion. Tapping your boot to a rhythm only you could hear, the night drew on and another hour passed. The droves of people passing didn’t dwindle, but it was always a group, never a single individual which you hoped was your new friend. It was almost 0130 when you felt watched, goosebumps rising on your skin as you realized someone must be looking at you. A quick glance around showed no one though, and after ten minutes your hope dissolved into disappointment. It seemed your friend wasn’t an early bird.
“Hey,” a raspy, deep voice speaking almost directly into your ear, startling you enough to elicit a yelp. You turned, eyes landing on a dark clothed chest and trailing up to a hooded face you could barely make out through a mess of blue hair. His lips look a bit chapped, a small scar decorating a corner, but his teeth are white and straight as he smiles a grin that causes shivers to shoot down your spine.
…maybe your friend was an early bird, just not as much as you.
You take a step back, stuttering stupidly due to your overactive nerves and the earlier shock of his sudden appearance. “H-hi…um,” the stranger tilts his head, eyes still not visible, dark hoodie baggy on his frame. He looks a bit thin, like he wouldn’t have a lot of strength, his jeans having some strange splattering of fake blood or something on them. You lick your lips, heart ready to leap from your chest but not quite ready for the events to unfold.
Or maybe you were very ready.
“You’ve been standing here for hours,” he comments nonchalantly, hands moving to shove inside the large inner pocket on his hoodie, “Aren’t ya tired of waiting for your boyfriend?” His question is a bit confusing, and when you glance around you, it dawns that there’s no one out right now. When had the crowds dwindled to nothing? “I don’t… have a boyfriend…” you had clearly stated that online too, so he already knew the answer to your relationship status. Was he just teasing? Keeping this as realistic as possible? It made you a bit pleased. You fiddled with the ends of your cute frilly dress, exposing a small portion of your skin and garter belt which kept your thigh high socks up. His eyes tracked the motion, lips pulling up even higher making his smile menacing. Dangerous. “That so?” He asks, but it doesn’t seem like he’s too interested in a reply as he steps closer, his beat up sneakers so silent on the ground it’s a little unnerving. Since he’s playing along so much, it feels wrong for you to not reciprocate.
“What do you think you’re doing, creep? Stay back,” You hope he’s not offended by the name, figuring it wasn’t too mean or odd of a thing to call him. Your firm stance and defiant gaze make him pause, head tilting again but he’s quick to recover and laugh. It’s less of a sexy and deep chuckle like you expected, and more pitched and giggly. It’s almost creepy to hear from a grown man. Like a child from a horror movie laughing. “Creep? Yeah? Guess I am, but you know what?” His head lifts, and since he’s more centered under the tall street lamp, when he looks straight at you, two red eyes flash. “I’m a lot fucking worse than your average dumbass creep,” you jolt when he lunges at you, hand outstretched to grab you. It’s instinctive how quickly you turn and run, adrenaline helping you shoot off into the park where no light but the moon shined down. This is what you wanted, you chant to yourself to stay level headed enough to not truly panic. This was staged and as safe as possible. He’s not actually going to hurt you. You’d be fine, albeit maybe a little sore tomorrow morning. You shut your mind off and focus on running, though your speed wasn’t great in such cheap and unstable boots, roots and random objects on the ground constantly tripping you up.
You looked like the dumb girl in the horror movies, tits practically out of your low cut revealing white dress, strapless white bra damn useless and more for show than any real support or push-up. You huffed, digging in your heels when you heard a few twigs snap behind you, feet carrying you faster as you realized he was gaining on you quickly. He didn’t shout and you didn’t scream. The chase was exhilarating, your mind becoming fuzzy as your lungs burned for more oxygen. You hadn’t planned a chase, really leaving it all up to fate and your new friend, but this was perfect.
Until fingers tangled tight in your hair and yanked you completely off your feet, your shoes and legs going out in front of you as you landed gracelessly on your ass. Then an intense burning in your scalp erupts, a hiss of pain and a whine escaping as you slide over cool damp foliage, senseless grumbling coming from the stranger as he drags you into a deeper more secluded section of the park, away from any and all prying eyes. Not like anyone gave a damn. “I-it hurts!” You feel childish for crying, tears pricking your eyes but the burn was worse than you imagined truly, soft hands coming up to try and pry his fingers off.
He has a grip of iron apparently, not the least bit phased as he sighs, hauling you up and tossing you in front of him. You land weirdly on your left shoulder, a shock of pain numbing your mind as you heave for air and roll over. When you open your eyes, you’re face to face with him. His hood pulled off, shoulder length blue hair now tied back and up into a little bun while some stray pieces frame his face and forehead. Your eyes adjust to the darkness as they take him in.
He’s young, maybe early twenties, with pale skin and dark bags hugging beneath his scarlet eyes. He’s got a beauty mark just below his lip on the right side, the scar you saw earlier on the other. He’s not hard on the eyes, cute even, but the strange air around him makes the close proximity fill you with anxiety. His eyebrows are thin and sparse, but he cocks one with a smirk. “Not gonna scream for help, crybaby?” The nickname makes you realize tears are streaming down your cheeks, you blink them away quickly, shaking your head and trying to find your words again. “I—uh, do you want me to?” Wouldn't screaming just make it more likely for someone to call the police? You figured a little noise was fine, but screaming seemed counter productive.
His eyes widened a bit, confusion painting his features as he crouched down more comfortably on his haunches to get a better look at you.
He’d been watching you since you got to the park. A single party in this sort of place always sticks out like a sore thumb. You looked more ready for a porno than a costume party, from behind the view of your ass indescribably arousing in your short little dress. It was both a slutty and innocent look you pulled off well, at least enough to make him riled up, cock twitching in agreement within his pants. He shamelessly rubbed it through his jeans, caressing the hardening length and letting you watch with glee. Your face made him snort, amusement evident as he chuckles and squints. “You like this, little freak?” You looked like you did, he notes. Your wide pretty eyes, still a little teary and red at the ends, showed your blown out pupils. You looked to be more star struck, not terrified like any normal girl chased through a park and dragged into a little corner between some trees to be out of sight. He watches you swallow hard, lips parting before closing as if you aren’t sure what to say to that question. “Fuck, you’re cute,” he grins, “a cute little slut who stood out at night all alone as if begging for someone to come along and do something nasty.” You release a tiny yelp as he meanly shoves you back, straddling your upper chest with his thighs as he hunches over you, looming ominously above with wild eyes screaming for chaos. “Good thing that I came along, huh? Make all your nasty little fantasies come true.” He watches you gasp as he presses his fingers against your lips, confusion evident on your face but you aren’t really putting up much of a fight as you open and let him slide two in. “Nasty fucking girl, look at you, when you don’t even fucking know me.” He chuckles, and while he’s teasing you mostly, he is amazed. You looked erotic as hell right now, little angel costume all wrinkled and a bit dirty from the earth below, pretty face a bit stained with mascara that had run a little from your earlier tears. You weren’t wearing the waterproof kind it seemed. Lips bitten and chewed on, plump and glossy from whatever glittery shit you swiped on them earlier now wrapped around his digits as he dug around in your warm wet mouth. “Suck on them, slut,” he orders, his smile dropping and face becoming more serious as you hurry to obey, a strange trepidation building in your gut. He groans as he feels your tongue wiggle and swirl, pumping his fingers a bit now and enjoying the little bleats you release when he chokes you a bit with them. “Wonder if you’re soaked down here~” he hums, leaning back a bit and yanking his fingers from your lips, wiping the excess saliva across your cheek and huffing a laugh as your features wrinkle in distaste. His hand moves behind him, easy access to your cunt due to the frilly dress hiked up almost around your waist, revealing cute soaked white cotton panties he growls at the sight of. “You really suck at putting up a fight, crybaby, but I think I heard somewhere that girls get wet when scared too…” those red eyes flick back to your own, "You scared?” He asks, almost softly. He watches you breathe, chest struggling a bit under his weight but your hands curled into the fabric of his hoodie, not pushing him away. “A little…?” Is your shaky response, and he wonders silently if you’re an idiot or just a pervert. You might be both, because when he lets his thumb dig into where your pussy lay poorly hidden, you moan for him and spread your legs wider. You make it even easier to search for his desired location, your swollen bundle of nerves. “O-oh—!” Your head falls back, little halo becoming a bit misshapen as it gets flattened to the ground, he tsks, fixing it with his free hand as he thumbs your little clit and watches you mewl and writhe beneath him, pleasure clearly visible on your face. Your hips buck and wiggle, body pinned beneath his and unable to get away or closer like you desperately want for more friction than he’s providing. “P-please,” you can’t help but beg, hoping your new friend is merciful enough to make you cum and not simply edge you all night.
It’s the pouty expression which makes him nearly feral, his grin spreading wide again as he keeps working his finger on your clit but his face closes the distance between your own. His lips just barely graze yours, and you are all too happy to part your lips and give him a sloppy kiss back, his own tongue finally slipping into your mouth where you suck. The smooth muscle in your mouth and the saliva dripping from it drive you wild, hands now dragging him closer and trying to make him do more for you. The heat spreads slowly however, his pace not changing, and despite his slim build he’s much stronger than you. You aren’t able to take any more than what is given, huffing in exasperation and groaning when he places more force before easing off. “S-stop teasing…” you whine against his lips, which were much softer than they look. He smirks, airy chuckle felt more than heard as he shakes with a silent laugh, “how can I not, you’re such a rare find, I plan to take my time with you.” He kisses you hard to silence whatever whines you planned to release to make him give you more. Instead he forces you into a slow building orgasm that leaves him having to pin your wrists above your head lest your clawing rip his skin open. He works you gently and cruelly into it, loving how you gasp and choke for him, eyes rolling back while you shake almost like you’re possessed and soak through your panties. “There you go, heh, normally I wouldn’t bother to take my time with whiny bitches, but you’re more obedient and sweet than I first assumed.” He whispers into your ear as you come down from the mind blowing high, body limp and pliant like dough now. The insult from him brings out a little whine of protest, teary eyes looking at him with almost something akin to betrayal.
“I-I don’t like being called mean names…I said so online too,” he pulls up finally, the chill of the night attacking full force on your now exposed cunt as he brings your panties up to his nose to inhale. His eyes narrow, almost into slits as he pulls them back and shoves them into his hoodie pocket. “Oh yeah? You post that shit on your social media or something? Sorry, I don’t really use those trash platforms. I have a Twitch stream though,” he acts like this is the time for a regular conversation, even as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, yanking them down his hips to pull his cock free. Your eyes go wide, mind a bit blank and missing something, in favor of looking at him pump his length lazily. A trail of blue curls like on his head travel from his navel to his groin where it spreads out a little, the color a bit darker as it goes lower. He’s not one to shave it seems, but your eyes focus on his cock, average in length but girthy with a tip that curves up almost perfectly. It looks like a cock someone would sell as a dildo at a sex store. It was pretty, admittedly, as a few pearls of pre-cum dotted the tip and spilled over as he slowly worked it above you. “Hungry?” He jokes, but when you nod he grits his teeth and bites back a moan, the night truly more unexpected than he thought. “Open up then, crybaby.” He thankfully didn’t call you a bitch again, crybaby the less of the evils and more acceptable of a petname for your preference as you open your lips and awkwardly lean your head forward. “No need to lean up,” he mumbles, shifting until his knees now rested by your shoulders, tip just in your mouth and his forearms on the earth above your head. He’s looking down at you, and you lay back down as he works his cock in your mouth. He’s going to fuck your mouth, you realize a bit late, the position so easy for him to hit balls deep in your throat and prevent you from running just from his weight alone. You’re pinned to earth, the scent of crisp autumn becoming mingled with the musky masculine odor the stranger had clinging to him. Something smelled of iron too, but it was fainter and didn’t bother you too much, not when he seemed determined to suffocate you with his cock. You jerk a little, teeth accidentally grazing his cock and his hiss of pain alerts you that you’ve hurt him. He pulls up and out of your mouth, glaring ferociously as he looks down at you with contemplation. “Sorry—! I’m not used—,” the words leaving you mouth go unfinished as you’re suddenly looking away and down, confusion wracking your mind before white hot pain erupts across your face and you cry out in agony.
He watches with a cool nonchalance as you whimper and cry, holding your inflamed cheek and looking at him with teary eyes filled with questions. The sight doesn’t help his hardness, your face swelling a bit from the force of the blow already, but it was still arousing how you cried for him so easily. “Don’t bite my fucking dick and I won’t hit you, clear?” He’s grabbing you roughly by the hair again, yanking you up and no longer in the mood for that awkward position as he stands and pulls you to your knees. This position at least gives him a good eye full of your tits, shaking from your little trembling as you’re made to look up at him. His angry reddened cock next to your injured cheek is a sight for him, his hand gripping his shaft and slapping you lightly on the cheek with it, his hand in your hair preventing you from turning away even as you whimper in pain. “Okay, we’ll try this again, crybaby. Open.” You do, even as tears run like waterfalls down your face, mascara smeared and making a pathetic sight for sore eyes of you, you let his cock enter your mouth once more.
Because you’ve never been more aroused.
Your stranger isn’t nice, pushing hard and deep into your throat immediately and gagging you. You’re careful with your teeth, jaw already burning and aching as he locks his arm and hand, strands of hair tearing out as he works his hips into your face at an uneven pace. “Stop fucking moving,” he growls, stepping even closer, blocking any and all exits and forcing you to take it. His cock didn’t seem so scary when he’d pulled it out, but in your throat it was a plug to your oxygen and felt too big for your poor mouth. It hurt, feeling him go too deep and leaving you coughing and sputtering and even still he wouldn’t pull out, groaning and pressing impossibly deep like he truly means to suffocate you. “You got a good little mouth pussy, crybaby. Fuck—take my cock, just like that.” He moans, watching as you struggle on his dick to breathe or swallow, slobber and tears coating his cock as he makes a mess of your pretty face. He doesn’t care that your eyes are starting to roll back, hands which had previously been clawing at his legs going limp at your sides. You acted more like a hole for him to fuck when you were limp like this, and it drove him wild as he grunted like an animal and rutted into your mouth like he held a grudge against you. Both hands dug into your hair, hands pulling you back onto his cock when his hips bucked you away. “Never fucked a—holy shit—ah, mouth so damn good before—, ah fuck, fuck,” he’s getting breathier as time ticks by, his own eyes rolling back as his balls draw up tight. “I’m going to cum, ready for me crybaby? Want it in your tummy or on your face?” He’s being condescending on purpose, but it’s a bit useless considering he’s rendered you nearly unconscious on his dick. He shrugs your lack of response off, pumping his cock down your throat until he sees stars and yanks himself free just before the first spurt misses and hits the grass below, he grips the base, pumping and shooting his next shot right onto your face. He yanks your head against his thigh, delirious face dazed and coughing softly as he finishes on your glitter and mascara run cheeks, using the tip to smear it well into your ruined makeup as he sneers at you from above.
“Hah…” he catches his breath, sucking in oxygen along with you as his gaze turns calculated.
“Wake up, I’m not done with you yet.” He’s more gentle now that he's cum at least once, tapping your uninjured cheek with two fingers as your eyes roll around before opening and looking at him.
He swears, your face making him hard again instantly, blood pooling to his groin at the messy sight of you in your white ruined angel costume. “You really are unlucky I was out tonight, I don’t think I’m gonna let you go.” His dead serious comment caused something cold to hit your veins, chills running through you as you gape in shock.
“W-what…?” He reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out what looked like a foot long serrated hunting blade. He snickers at the blank look of shock on your features.
“What’s wrong, crybaby? No tears for me right now?” You’re shaking, getting paler by the second as you realize no, it’s not a costume, and yes, there is still dried blood on the blade. There’s dried blood all over him, his spree tonight ridiculously fruitful and his body still high on the thrill. Imagine his luck finding you. “T-this wasn’t in my profile, wh-what are you doing?” Now you look alert, now you act like a regular civilian, he notes cooly. “I only con-consented to the sex and stuff, I said I didn’t like—like blades or blood play.” Your eyes are wide as saucers and you have a cold sweat now forming and dotting your skin, shaky like on too much caffeine as your body dumped chemicals to help you run.
His head tilts, a few more strands of hair coming loose from his tie as those red eyes watch you without any emotion in their depths.
“Ah~ I get it now. Are you some kind of freak who links up with people online for this kind of shit?” He laughs, eyes not matching the manic toothy grin. “Sorry to disappoint slut, I ain’t your tinder or whatever match. Did you do it anonymously?” He’s beyond amused, thrilled by the horror dawning on your face as reality sets in. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He sneers, but he’s joyful when you book it, heeled boots caked in mud as they dig into the ground and you take off for real. True intent to get away now because he’s not your new friend, he’s a real stranger and his energy is nothing but malevolent.
You’re going to die.
It’s a sick thought that twists inside you as you push the hardest you’ve ever, scream bubbling up and out as you cry for help now. “HELP! Please! Someone! Anyone!” It’s more broken and hoarse than you want, his earlier abuse to your throat having taken a number on your ability to vocalize.
It’s empty. This damn park is empty.
Not a soul around and you can’t hear him coming for you anymore, and it only makes the tears fall harder as you drive your body to a breaking point. If no one is around you can at least aim for your car, your phone will take too much time to look at and dial the police, you’d be too open and that would mean—
Something—someone—smashes into you, your body thrown sideways by the brute force and flung roughly to the ground where you roll several feet.
It hurts—!
Your body and mind scream as pain lights up your shoulder, a previously dull ache now hounding for your attention so much it left you lightheaded. You twisted your ankle too or maybe broke it, already so regretful for the evening and your life choices that your shoes hardly broke the bank. It all hurt, and yet you still tried to crawl to get away, still eager for another deep breath of air in your lungs even if it hurt to do that too.
“Hck, please, please—help—!,” you’re a sobbing pathetic mess, and he couldn’t be more turned on by the sight. He dusts himself off like he hadn’t tackled you like a linebacker for a major league football team, his lanky form sinewy with muscle and his agility nothing to scoff at. He swirls the enormous daunting blade with a whistle, smiling more genuinely as he strolls towards your shaking form crawling away.
“Where do you think you’re going, crybaby? I said I wasn’t done with you,” he lands a solid hit to your middle, dirty sneaker smearing mud on your cute little dress, looking less and less white as the night wears on. The blow is not hard enough to damage anything, he’s sure, but you act as if you’ve been disemboweled by how you howl and heave. He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, settling one foot between your shoulder blades and pressing down until you’re left immobilized.
Your vision is blurry, going in and out of focus as you try, and try, and try to get away, cute nail polish chipped and ruined as you claw at the dirt floor for leverage.
He admires your tenacity. “You think you can get away? That anyone is coming to save you?” He brushes a few stray hairs out of his face as he laughs, the urge to gut you strong as he savors your useless little struggle. “Crybaby, look around! No one is coming! I said look,” he grinds out, dropping to one knee while his other leg remains planted on your back, his hand gripping your hair and yanking your head up to see what he meant.
There’s a fence. A metal chain link fence, and it had a sign your vision was too blurry to read through your tears.
“You ran yourself straight into the worst possible area, this is sort of your game over,” He leans down to look at you, yanking your head back and forcing you into an uncomfortable arch. He raises up the blade, fully intending to slit your pretty throat and watch your eyes as the light fades, but you blubber out a sentence which halts him.
“Y-you didn’t finish! E-earlier, hck, earlier you didn’t finish—!” Your eyes squeeze closed in pain as he yanks your head to the side. Confusion burned in him, and curiosity kept you breathing for now.
“Didn’t finish what, crybaby? Fairly certain I finished all over your face, if I remember correctly.” He has a sharp edge in his tone, something metallic fills your mouth and you realize you’ve bitten through your tongue in your panic. A few drops spill past your lips, catching his attention.
“S-shouldn’t you also f-fuck me too? I-it’s why I came out tonight, wh-why I, ah, d-did this,” it’s a long shot by any means, and he’s no fool, but you did make a good point.
He was still hard.
“Smart little crybaby, aren’t you?” He mutters darkly, setting aside his blade in favor of smashing your face into the dirt, keeping your head down as he presses against your back and yanks your hips up. Your knees are skinned from the rough handling, socks torn open and stained with blood and dirt while his calloused hands slip beneath your dress. Your breath hitches. You needed to think of some way out of this, some kind of plan to escape or incapacitate him.
He’s busied himself with your still dripping cunt. Two fingers roughly filling your hole and uncaringly stretching your tight entrance. “You really are a freak, wet even though you’re going to die, crybaby.” He felt a bit strange as you whimper and mewl below, hand slowing as he tried to place the feeling.
He shrugs it off, instead easily yanking down his jeans which were still unbuttoned and pulling out his cock once more, stroking his shaft a few times before he lined himself up with your puffy lips. “Fuck—,” he swears, eyes seeing stars as he pushes just his tip past the tight ring of muscle at your entrance, mouth opening as licks his lips and stares down at you. “Never had pussy so good…” he giggles darkly, cracking his neck as he pushes each inch inside of you, stretching you out deliciously until you’re speared on his cock with his hips flush with your ass. “Who knew you’d be the best, crybaby.” He muses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips, your little dress flipped up and over your ass so he can watch it bounce as he leans back on his knees to fuck you deeper. You need to think straight but it’s difficult with how good your body feels, the pain from earlier seeming to go away with a numb buzz as he fills your pussy, hitting perfectly against a spot that has you arching harder for more.
You really are a freak like he says.
You can’t help relaxing further, eyes dumbly looking to the side where your head rests as he pounds into you from behind, the coil in your gut growing tighter by the minute.
The clouds blocking the moon seem to part just for you, the full moon’s light no longer blocked and illuminating the little patch of grass he’d tackled you into. Something gleams, in perfect reach too as your eyes widen.
His knife.
He’d already proven you can’t outrun him, but what if he was injured? There’s a major artery in the thigh, if you hit that, wouldn’t you be able to get away?
He yanks back roughly, moaning as he feels you squeeze even tighter around him, velvet walls massaging his dick while he tries to fuck himself as deep as possible inside of you.
It hit you despite all your intentions not to, because this wasn’t safe and he wants to end your life and everything is wrong, but your body doesn’t listen. You cum with a shaky cry, and with an awkward turn of your head you watch as his head goes back and he moans, eyes closed in bliss as you coat his cock in even more slick.
You’re louder than you intended to be, but your fingers close around the hilt nonetheless, trembling with the heavy weight in your grasp, you use every ounce of energy inside you to swing it back into his thigh.
“Cute,” you scream as he catches your wrist, hand clenching so tight you feel your bones grind together as the knife falls from your grip. He twists your arm around and pins your wrist behind your back, holding it in place while his other hand remains at your hip.
“So fucking cute, crybaby. Did you cum just to distract me or was that because you couldn’t help yourself?” He’s getting a high from this, from fucking you and turning you into nothing but a toy as he bounces you on his cock, hips still but arms pulling you back and forth with ease. Scarlet eyes drink you in with undisguised sick glee, and he’s finally able to place the feeling from earlier.
“A pretty little slut trying to get her rocks off and getting shown why she should’ve been a good girl and stayed home,” he grunts, releasing you and leaning over, pinning you with his weight and nearly knocking the air from your lungs how deeply he hits you inside from this angle. Dirt fills the underbelly of your nails, your fingers digging into the earth just for some semblance of stability.
You had none. It was a sick and horrifying realization. You have no control. You can do nothing to stop this. As deeply as it made your gut sink, another odd emotion rose to the surface.
A bubbly sensation that tore through you as your tears became less from fear and more from overstimulation.
His hips piston in and out of you, bullying your cervix in this position as he ruts into you like a hound, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he moans and grunts.
You break again, spasm and cinch down on his cock like a vice while you wail as if in mourning. Maybe you are, for yourself at least. “Oh fuck—! s’too much—, please, I can’t—, f-feels good, hah,” your nearly incoherent babbling sends him over the edge along with you, his own dull nails finally drawing blood as he holds you for dear life as he releases deep inside you, tip kissing right up against you womb as he cums. You can feel it too, his cock twitching inside as the night seems to still for a moment.
He holds you for a while. Breathing you in, nuzzling his face into your neck and licking you. He holds you until his cock fully softens and it hurt to be gripped so tightly inside your wet heat, regrettably pulling away.
He stands, putting his sticky limp cock away inside his underwear and pulling up his pants, looking down at your ruined figure that had slumped over to the side.
“Y’know, crybaby… you really resemble an angel now,” he smiles, red eyes almost glowing as the moon blankets his back and shadows his face. His hair seems almost white like this, your tired eyes note. You don’t move or even flinch as he grabs his knife and yanks your limp figure up by your hair. Even now you’re still crying, face lax despite the rivers flowing down your dirty swollen cheeks. You make no effort to stop him, having given up completely.
He crouches down again, mostly eye level now as he makes you look at him.
“You got any last words?” He’s being dead serious. He feels strange looking at the almost glazed over look in your eyes.
“W-what…” your voice is barely a whisper, but the night is so quiet he catches it, “what’s your…name?”
An unexpected question.
His eyes gleam, smile ravenous as he puts his lips against your ear and whispers it.
“Tomura, what’s your name, crybaby?” He asks, gently, almost like he’s actually interested.
You hoarsely whisper it, your last time ever saying it after tonight. He hums, like it pleases him, before he brings down the knife swiftly.
Your vision goes dark, the strike mercifully painless. Your last thoughts blur as you drift into soft nothingness.
He releases your hair, grabbing your limp figure up in his arms as he chuckles and sheaths his knife properly on his hip. “Dumb crybaby” his voice almost singing the words as he whistles and walks away, the park dead silent but even if someone had seen you in his arms, he could just play the good boyfriend taking his sweetheart home safely. It’s not entirely a lie either, his eyes glancing down at your unconscious form, pretty neck unmarred but a bruise would likely form on the back where he struck you tomorrow. Tomura had never felt compelled to allow a victim to live, but then again he’s never fucked a victim either, so you’re the first for a lot. He supposed it made you quite special, his legs carrying him in the direction of his car in the parking lot about a mile south. Obsession and possessiveness swirled in those red depths as they looked at your figure.
“Good girls should just stay home…” he continues his sardonic little tune, his smile gruesome and foreboding.
Vibrant blue orbs check his surroundings again, noting once again his friend was a no show. Rolling his eyes, he knew it was too good to be true. Your profile screamed inexperienced and cautious, despite you clicking that you’d like him to remain anonymous beforehand. It didn’t matter, he’d just go enjoy some sorority girl pussy instead, figuring at 0330 that most parties would be winding down. Drunk girls dressed like sluts were his second favorite.
Dabi clicks the notify option on his app, letting the website staff know you never showed up.
Though, he muses if something did happen, the police wouldn’t be notified until it was too late. Halloween weekend after all meant you could be missing for quite a while before anyone noticed.
Not his problem though.
Post dividers/@cafekitsune
#tw:noncon#kinktober#Shiggy fuckers come get y’all juice#kinktober 2023#my only one lol#shigaraki tomura smut#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki mha#shigaraki x reader#mha tomura#tomura x reader#boku no hero academia tomura#yandere tomura#yandere shigaraki tomura#yandere tomura smut#yandere shigaraki tomura smut#yandere tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura x reader smut
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𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑻𝑶𝑩𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑨𝒀 #𝟐 — 💀🎃 "𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 & 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉" 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒊 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 / 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒙
tw/cw: dubious consent, mentions of attempting suicide
Don't go, don't go, don't go, don't go.
It's the first thing you had learned as a young bumbling girl, back when you'd clutch onto your mother's cold hand tightly and ask in a high, squealing voice about the woods you had found out were strictly forbidden.
"Don't go in there," your mother had said in a hushed tone, "there are awful people in there; ones who will offer you ruby-red apples with the magick of eternity's youth, but you mustn't ever take them, my baby, and if you even manage to get away from the faeries and witches and wolves, then you will reach the ocean infested with all sorts of monsters. You don't wish to be eaten by a half-bird half-fish now, would you?"
So you'd always been wary of the forest, as a little girl to a lady, living a respectful life at the village.
You spent days embroidering satin gowns with arcipluvian birds and cutting sweetheart necklines with a healer's steady hand and stitching diamond-encrusted bodices into tulle skirts; all the uninteresting things that come with being a dressmaker's daughter.
Though tonight, you'd long abandoned the box of jewels and the slim needle that had become a tender muscle in your mind, left them by the melting candle on your bedside.
Your shoulders donned a blood-red cloak made of velvet, your gown glittering under the night sky; you'd stitched it yourself from the spare fabric of a rich woman who often visited your family's little shop in the village. It was a lovely thing and it was your most prized possession: the bodice was nice and fitted, ivory in colour with rose and aureate embellishments, low and tight so that the clear spheres of your breast were nipped with cold; you'd made your skirts wonderfully layered also — a swelling blood red silk underskirt covered with a sheer, glittering gold fabric, with two overskirts in damask patterns, sable and cream and sun-spun.
When you had sewn it, you'd left it hanging in your sparse wardrobe in hopes to wear it on your wedding day.
Now, all that was left was to wear it tonight and walk straight into death; the tangerine glow of the lantern held up in your dainty fingers, lighting the path to the angel of death.
You had never thought your mother would arrange your marriage to the worst man in the village. Your beauty was sought by every boy and man of the village, and you'd hoped your mother would match you to the sweet butcher's boy across the street.
Keigo, his name is; a boy with hair spun off golden sunflowers and eyes that glitter like topaz under moonshine, sharp as a hawk. He gave you candied cherries once, the tart fruit dipped in hardened sugar water, and he'd smiled so shyly after.
Instead, your mother betrothed you to Touya, the eldest son of the village chief. You had wanted to cry as the man's intense, electric-blue eyes blazed flames into your skin as your mother and his father discussed the engagement.
Everyone knew of Touya, the enigmatic eldest son covered in gnarly, mulberry scars and strange silver rings and snow-white hair, rumours circled like wisps of smoke that he had been set alight with fire by a witch as a young boy. Worse, rumours said that the young man dabbled in dark magic.
You wouldn't marry a man like that, which is why you'll die.
In the forest.
(Don't go.)
Your lantern only illuminates the trees in front of you, just a few steps away into certain death. Webs shimmer like meshed steel in front of you as you take a ginger step inside, the slow crunch of a leaf below your boots is the only indicator something exists inside.
Almost immediately inside the forest, something shifts.
You can't tell what it is but it's there.
Red.
Your eyes become deer-like, large and frightened, and you turn around, wanting to head back but you find that the path back... isn't there, just endless forbidden forest.
That can't be.
Something gets stuck in your throat from panic, like a globe of cloth that makes your throat dry.
You keep walking, your legs a lot heavier now, something akin to logs.
The world around you seems to shift, a sepulchre silence heavier than the cloak on your shoulders. The trees held the macabre stench of blood, speckles of fungied moss glistening like wet witch dust on its mottled bark; the branches twist toward the sky like dark, skeletal fingers, reaching for the stars that winked down from a velvet expanse.
The moon is hideous tonight.
A whispering breath, no, a breeze, shifts through the lines of the forest and your body. It sounds old, perhaps a little sad. It beckons you.
In the back of your head, you can hear the sound of children singing.
Ring-a, ring-a rosies-
There's a beat of a drum, somewhere deep in the darkness where your lantern's weak light can't reach. A drum, a drum- A beating heart.
a pocket full of-
Enchantment twists and coils around you like a serpent, why are your eyes so-?
posies!
The phantasmal gas becomes the damp breath of the forest.
Shadows dance at the corners of your vision.
Your senses begin to reel, ethereal and monstrous and real suddenly not all the same.
A tissue! A tissue!
Flickering shapes form and die behind the trees; those shapes try to reach hands towards you, scintillating and fading.
The sound of a child wailing echoes throughout the forest, haunting the glades, and pouring into some desolate space elsewhere.
When did you start crying? Why are you running?
Someone is trying to hush you, the sound a hollow echoing, more like the ballad of a crumbling cathedral, like fingers of shadow snuffing out the lights.
Why did you go?
Don't go.
We all-
Arthritic brambles catch on your dress for a moment, gnarled with age, snapping like bones as your boots slap through the sounds of the night.
Something spidery slips into your mind, nails sinking deep into the goo of your brain. The distorted image of your parents flashes before your eyes, the grotesque form of the sun-haired boy, the sweetness of electric-blue eyes.
Time loses meaning; minutes stretch into hours as you drift between consciousness and the realm of the lost. In this state, the boundaries of your existence waver like the edges of a dream, fraying like the gossamer threads in your gown.
Fall-
The night sky above transforms into a kaleidescope, the stars becoming blurs of light, something sinister flashing in front of your pupils instead.
In that one moment, you live hundreds of lifetimes, the beat of the drum getting louder, the singing even more so. You see it all: flowery childhoods and fantasies of a lover and children with his blue eyes and your tears at his funeral-
Down!
All you can do is shriek as you fall, dress dirtying.
It's silent again.
You look up and you freeze.
A deep pool of glittering, gemstone-blue expanding here, a stream behind it, most likely leading to the seas. It's stunning; glimmering like star gleam, burbling and thrumming like a child blowing bubbles into a cup. It lights up the rest of the forest around you, ripples reflecting across tree bark.
You reach out a hand just to touch, fingertips trembling just about to touch the surface.
A hand encloses around your wrist.
You don't have it in you to shriek a second time as blood-curdling eyes meet yours.
His eyes are red. Vivid, vibrant, violent.
He's simmering with cruel intent, volcanic and about erupt, but he's strangely calm, something hypnotic in his gaze and bluish hair falling in front of his ashy face.
The hand around your wrist is gentle. Thick, long fingers, and a broad, heavy palm; made to destroy, you don't doubt his touch is decaying.
He's half-submerged in water, the upper half of his body all sinewy muscle and the lower half... beneath the blue water, you think you see black swishing around; pulsating like a jellyfish.
"...A human," he murmurs with a heavy tongue, and you can see the gills flare . "So pretty."
Then everything about him changes, that eerie calmness you had caught before disappears as he smiles at the way your mind screams, your eyes bloodshot and terrified.
There;s something rotten in the way he quirks his lips up.
His teeth have the same glint as blood-drenched bones, like flesh ripped out of a body, like hot red swallowing you whole.
"Why are you here, little girl?" he asks, hissing through calcite.
The hand around your delicate wrist tightens.
Run.
Don't.
"I- I- I-" you stammer uselessly. "I- No, I-"
"Shh, 's okay." His other clawed hand comes to touch the plump of your cheek, talons gently tracing soothing patterns. "You don't have to... say a word."
His voice is sultry, soft... It's almost mesmerising.
The fingers on your wrist dance to the back of your hand as he traces the veins there, as if he wants to rip them out and sew himself a tail from them.
He entwines your hands together tenderly.
"Such hardworking hands," he coos, eyes taking in the sight of all the pricks from needling away at dresses. "You need to unwind." His eyes flicker to yours and he gives a half-smile half-smirk, almost genuine. "I can help with that."
His grin is lopsided, those red eyes glimmer, the incandescence of them illusory. "You want to...?"
Your vision becomes hazy, blurring like it did earlier, only this time it's much more relaxing. Like sleep spindles wrapping around your sore joints.
"You missed me, right? You came here all the way to see me, 'm honoured," he murmurs, mouth against your knuckles before pulling back just a little. Another flow. "You came here to see me, right?"
You can't remember now.
Why... did you...?
Why do you feel so disoriented?
"You're the sweetest, you know." The large, gentle hand on your cheek moves to the back of your head, sinking into your hair and bringing you closer to his mouth. You try and shake your head to fight away the warm haze. It's useless. "I've been feeling hungr- Lonely, for so long."
Both his hands cup your jaw now, thumbs caressing the lines he can find on you.
"You're lonely too, right...?" he murmurs and you find yourself nodding along, the gills on his neck flare. "It'd be nice if... you'd join me, here, in the waters." His voice is a whisper now, his mouth inching closer. "I bet you'd like it. My voice is prettier below as well, do you want to hear?"
You blink, frazzled.
The fingers on your face dig in a little harder.
"It'd be nice, you know, listening to beautiful songs with me," he says, "I just adore singing, especially at deaths, it's why everyone calls me Shigaraki. I bet you have a beautiful name, too."
But you don't say it, all you can hear is his name on repeat, like sea froth and foam on the red tip of your tongue.
"Beautiful girls like you deserve pleasure, you know...?" he whispers. "Do you want to...?"
You don't know why you nod.
But he kisses you. It's cold and his teeth gnash against yours, something in it is desperate as his claws make quick work of ruining your beloved dress.
Whatever he does, it keep the oxygen in your lung as he hauls you into the glowing pool that has become duller below it.
He's gorgeous in the water, in all his tentacled glory, and his eyes are burning red to keep the magick of remaining docile on you.
His lower half is the most bizarre thing you'd ever seen: blacker than squid ink at midnight, obsidian veins creeping up on abdomen and then his lower half splitting into eight meaty tentacles.
He grabs you by the throat this time, kissing you with his forked tongue, fangs nipping into the fat of your gasping bottom lip, the other hand holding your head.
You're entirely nude; soft legs floating in the water, virgin cunt exposed, the plump of your ass glimmering. He pulls back, grinning like a warping shadow as his hands touch your swollen breasts.
It all happens at once.
A slimy tentacle wraps around your leg, the other twinning the action, suckling onto your shins and knees and thighs, and he spreads you apart like a starfish, uncaring for how your hips almost shatter from the pressure.
Another tentacles winds itself like a gutless animal around your stomach and squeezes tight enough that all you'd eaten comes gurgling out in a cloud of yellow. The tentacle is large enough to sheathe around your tits, the suckers across the tentacles are like reverberating mouths on your nipples. Within seconds, your nipples are raw and bitten, expanding to twice their size obsenely.
Shigaraki grins as you let out a strangled moan before he shoves a bulky tentacle in your mouth causing your eyes to almost pop out your skull as it goes down into your thoat so that it almost explodes from expanding to fit the thing.
It's gorgeous how sweetly you let him thrust the throbbing tentacle in and out, even sweeter how you scream around it as he doubles down on your sugary pussy and ass.
It hurts so much you can't even feel it inside your stomach, the tentacle on your breasts moving up to squeeze at your throat.
Your stomach convulses from the gruesome size of him, hammering into your womb like a savage barbarian in a brothel. You catch sight of the merman through your tears; his eyes have rolled to the back of his head, mouth hanging open in a vulgar moan, and he was right, he does sound prettier under water.
Your blood is clear in the water as he fucks you, tentacles and sucker clamping and sucking and thrusting on the inside and out.
You're going to die like this, with this monster making you the prettiest human cumdump-
The flames of dark magic suddenly bleed into the waters, severing the tentacles of your captor, the spell breaking and you screech, watching as the monster flails about, blood gushing and staining the pool red as the cut tentacles float.
All you feel is unfamiliar hands holding onto you and swimming out of the waters.
The last thing you remember seeing is electric-blue eyes.
#shigaraki#tomura#tenko#shimura#shigaraki x reader#yandere shigaraki tomura#mha#my hero academia#bnha#boku no hero academia#x reader#mha ff#fanfiction#oneshot#kinktober 2024#day 2
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The Tragedy of Rage.
Yan Shigaraki x F Reader.
Synopsis: Losing people is hard for most – but not for Tomura because he hasn’t lost you yet in his mind.
Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, Tomura the incel creep, slight descriptions of self-inflicted wounds, brief mentions of not SFW, and thoughts of future acts of violence/mutilation.
Word Count: 400.
*~*~*~*
If Tomura was going to be betrayed anyway, he would have preferred to be torn apart limb by limb.
Trusting someone hurts – but society has told everyone since they were little that trust was necessary. Trusting someone hurts – but you said you would be different this time. Trusting someone hurts – Tomura had unlocked that shackle because you said it tugged on your leg to the point of it bleeding.
Just when did you become such an actor, creating props out of your own living flesh and peeled skin? Just when did you become such a little director, creating a script out of soothing touches and Tomura’s clothing and a clip from the back of your dress? If Tomura wasn’t so mad, he’d tell you to give the same kind of enthusiasm to those cosplays he makes you wear. Whether they were jokes or not was up to you. Just like your skirt length is up to him; or if you’ll be allowed to wear anything aside from lingerie for the next few months after this little escape attempt.
His stepping stops as he looks at the lower levels of the fire escape.
Using the front door would’ve been a stupid move. Tomura’s a bit happy you’re not that dumb. Cameras exist for a reason. People who would do anything for just a bit of money exist for a reason. Your mind hasn’t fractured yet – but the answer as to whether or not for the same reason as Tomura’s mind is left up in the air for a discussion never to come.
Only fists, only yelling, only screaming. Only crying.
He won’t permit you to even do that. If you do, he’ll make sure that voice box is ripped out. Then the only crying he will hear are those that belong to the cicadas.
Tomura won’t cry for you. You were the one who proved trusting someone hurts more than anything else in the world, and you will pay the price.
#trick or treat event#yandere#yandere x reader#aya abstractions#i'm sorry i have to go back......... to 2017.........#yandere bhna#yandere bnha x reader#yandere boku no hero academia x reader#yandere bnha#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere my hero academia x reader#yandere mha x reader#yandere my hero academia#yandere mha#yandere shigaraki#yandere shigaraki tomura#yandere shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x reader#mha x reader#bhna x reader#boku no hero academia x reader#my hero academia x reader
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wanna be faced fucked by literally anyone at this point 😭
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#gojo satoru#jjk#jujustu gojo#geto suguru#satoru gojo smut#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen nanami#yuuta smut#inumaki x you#yuuji x y/n#fushiguro megumi#yandere shigaraki tomura#katsuki x reader#deku x reader#toga himiko
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yandere shigaraki drabble
notes: yandere, more shigaraki angst, mention of kidnapping word count: 400
coming up with an idea of yandere shigi is really challenging. i'm unsure which part of him i want to showcase in the 2nd part of the moon fic. because i can really see it going two ways.
do i want the beginning shigaraki? the man-child who refuses to take no for an answer. the egotistical type. obsessive type. the punishing type. the cruel type.
he holds himself to a high standard, viewing himself as such. and he holds you to an even higher standard. to shigaraki, he owns you. the teachings of his master continue to chain his true feelings. he views you as more a toy, a plaything. something he owns. something he won.
he refuses his love for you. he does not love you. he does not care for you. he does not need you.
how long can he keep this façade up before completely breaking down before you? he is scared. scared to show you his true feelings, out of fear of rejection. so, instead, he takes you. forces you to be his as he acts as though he does not want to be yours.
in reality, he does not harm you. his actions more bark than bite. the lies he tells you are for himself, not for you.
he refuses his love for you. he does not want to love you. he does not want to care for you. he does not want to need you.
but he does.
or do i want the desperate shigaraki?
the former temper-tantrum throwing child is no more. hes faced too many losses for him to be as egotistical as he was prior. the loss of his nomus. the loss to allmight. the loss of a precious lov member, magne. the loss of his dear master, all for one.
to him, you cannot be another one of his losses. he refuses for it to be so. the type to worship and be completely enamored by his darling. after all, he just got her back, and now he will never let her go.
the desperate, pathetic shigaraki.
he holds you dearly, as if you would run from him immediately when given the chance. he is weak around you. you are the only one who truly understands him.
the desperate, pathetic shigaraki who confesses his love to you constantly like a mantra.
he does not listen to your response, fearful of it. for now, let him enjoy your embrace. let him enjoy your love. let him enjoy you.
for after tonight. after the moon sets. after a new cycle repeats. your relationship will never be the same again.
#yandere x reader#tw yandere#yan blog#yandere#soft yandere#angst#bnha angst#mha angst#yandere shigaraki#yandere shigaraki tomura#shigaraki x reader#yandere shigaraki x reader#shigaraki tomura#tomura shigaraki#shigaraki tomura x reader#tomura shigaraki x reader#tomura x reader#tw kidnap mention#mha#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha x reader
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Platonic Aizawa and Present mic where Shigaraki is obsessed with reader..Bro is in love with reader. Shigaraki will do everything in his power to be a little creep perv😭😭
I can just imagine Shigaraki being like: "HEHE ERASERHEAD HAS A CHILD IMMA DATE THEM" I added Eri and Hitoshi as a platonic yandere who make a small appearance warnings: romantic shigaraki is a warning for itself, yandere themes, isolation, creep behavior, grown up reader
Reader's quirk: Divinity heal
This basically mean they can heal injuries instantly, they can't heal serious illnesses.
masterlist - p.2
A lovely meeting
Reader couldn't help but be excited, they had conviced their fathers to let them go out alone! Well they had to bring their younger brother: Hitoshi.
"When I am done with my errand, do you want to go to that cat café you like? I'll pay." Reader asked Hitoshi while holding up their card with a toothy grin. "I love you." Hitoshi blurted out. "Where do we have to go first?"
"The videogame store. I want to buy the new horizon game and some extra joy cons for the switch and an extra switch for Eri with some games." Reader explained, they had been saving up all the money they got from their freelance job to be able to pay. Hitoshi nodded, Eri's birthday was coming up. "After that I need to buy that book pa wanted."
"How about you go to the videogame store and I pick up that book? That way we can go the café sooner." Hitoshi suggested with a happy tone, which caused Reader to chuckle. "Sure, I'll give you some cash to buy the book." They dropped some cash in Hitoshi's hands. "I'll see you at the café, okay?"
Hitoshi nodded and gave Reader a hug. "Stay safe alright." Reader chuckled and petted his hair. "Always."
When reader was at the videogame store, they grabbed a basket and greeted the shop's owner. "I have a copy of the new Horizon game at the counter waiting for you." The shop's owner told Reader. "Thank you so much, I just need to grab a few things for Eri's birthday."
Well much to Reader's luck, they still had mario party and animal crossing :D, so they took one happily. "Do you like Animal crossing?" Reader heard a rough voice behind them, causing them to turn in surprise.
"I want to know if it's worth purchasing." The guy added with an awkward chuckle. "I love it myself, like I love the interactions and making your own island. It's like getting away from the real world for a while." Reader rambled happily while smiling at the guy, until they noticed the blood on his neck. "Oh, you're bleeding, can I heal you?"
The guy looked at them in surprise, and then nodded. "I'm Tomura." He whispered while Reader healed his neck, it gave him a soft tingly feeling. "My name is Reader. Let's exchange numbers so that we can play animal crossing sometime."
Reader couldn't help but want to be friends with him. He didn 't seem as suffactiong as their parents and siblings.
"I would like that." Tomura smiled at them. "Here, put it in my phone, if you don't mind I have to go, my littler brother is waiting for me."
Tomura put his phone number in Reader's phone and nodded. "Send me a text when you have the time."
Tomura had the feeling that this could turn out to be something great
Part one, why? otherwise this will become too long. I like wrote this 20 times. and I am still not satisfied
#yandere boy#treefairy🧚♂️🍁#male yandere#yandere male#yandere#yandere bnha#yandere mha#yandere aizawa shouta#soft yandere#platonic yandere#romantic yandere#yandere x darling#yandere father#yandere erasermic#mha#bnha#bnha shigaraki#yandere aizawa#yandere shigaraki#yandere shigaraki tomura#yandere hizashi#yandere hizashi yamada#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere my hero academia#my hero academia x reader#boku no hero academia shigaraki#boku no hero academia#yandere tenko
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thinking about Touya and Tomura fucking a pretty little virgin and keeping her collared in their bed as their shy, slutty cumdump
Shigaraki Tomura x darling x Dabi
TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, power dynamic, captive darling
fem reader
They don’t seem to enjoy each other’s company that much...
Patchface and Fugly aren’t exactly names of endearment...
Tomura seems to think he’s in charge, but Dabi’s never shown any sign of respect for that – they both just do what they want. Fighting each other with childish insults – sometimes the odd shirt grab or childish push – but never actually throwing down.
You don’t understand the nature of their relationship. They behave more like brothers than anything – forced to share the same toy – you.
Tomura is the more clingy of the two. Cuddly with you – always lazing on you like you’re his personal plush. He sleeps a lot – lies with his arms around your waist and his head in your tits – drool dribbling down his chin, getting sticky on your skin. And when he doesn’t sleep, he’s sitting in his chair – three screens making his eyes beady and baggy. He’ll often keep you on his lap – his massive girth wearing you like a fleshlight as he clicks away on his controller.
Dabi is cuddly, too, but you wouldn’t call him clingy. He prefers it when you lie against his chest. He likes to stroke his fingers up and down your skin – play a little – lick you with blue flames, just enough for it to sting just a bit. He’s somehow lazier than Tomura – always in the bed with a blunt between his lips – rolling more – sucking the slim roll while you suck him. The air in the room is always thick with it.
They’re both trigger-happy – horny at the drop of a hat. Utterly shameless with it, too – stroking their hard lengths against your warm flesh even while you sleep. Sometimes you wake up with their cum smeared on your skin – other times you wake up with one of them inside you.
Dabi reeks of cigarettes and catpiss, and Tomura isn’t much different – dry sweat and boozy breaths.
You don’t think either of them has been with too many girls. Nor does it seem that either of them has had any proper education. Schooled by the internet – incel chatrooms and porn. You often have to raise your brow at their misogyny.
You find Tomura harbors more pure resentment towards you in that aspect – sometimes so cruel, forcing you to beg him for his mercy – when he’ll keep your throat in a four-fingered lock – the fifth ghosting the skin until he’s properly satisfied with the number of tears running down your cheeks. He calls you a pretty girl, but more so as an insult – a pretty bitch only worth taking his cum.
Dabi seems to have his rage focused elsewhere – on some distant goal. He’ll brood over it in silence – often long into the night. You’ll wake up only to see he has yet to fall asleep – but you don’t dare ask him about it. He can be just as ill-tempered as Tomura if you don’t watch yourself.
They both bite harder than they bark.
#yandere shigaraki#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere shigaraki tomura#yandere shiggy#yandere shigaraki x reader#yandere mha#yandere bnha#shigaraki smut#shigaraki thirst#yandere tomura shigaraki#yandere tomura#tomura smut#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigaraki fanfiction#shigaraki x y/n#shigaraki imagine#shigaraki x you#tomura x you#yandere dabi#yandere dabi imagine#yandere dabi x reader#yandere touya#yandere todoroki#yandere touya todoroki#yandere touya x reader#dabi smut#dabi x reader#dabi todoroki#dabi my hero academia
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OMG, I just love your writing! Especially the yandere Big Brother shigaraki HCS! If your requests are still open, can I request Yandere Big Brother Shigaraki with his little sister being AFO's daughter and they used to be really close for years but one day He had thought she had died after some villain got her and there was not even a body left behind, but in truth, she had run away and joined UA. Some platonic headcanons of yandere Big Brother shigataki and yandere Father AFO about that?
Thank you! 🖤🖤🖤
Rebellion | Yandere AFO and Shigaraki Tomura
Rebelling in such a way is going to be hard beyond belief
Whether you do this in your youth or closer to your teens it’s a battle
That can’t be won without the hero specifically All Might’s intervention
But eventually they do it
Faking your death and making it seem believable enough for Shigaraki
But it sends him spiraling
His old life and now you
He’s so consumed with grief he doesn’t pick up on AFO’s minor reaction
AFO is probably more than aware that you’re probably alive
Already planning to recapture you but it’s not a priority
He knows they won’t kill you
And he knows they’ll likely use you as bait
But he smiles with glee when he thinks about how tomura will react when he knows you are still alive
He recognizes his dear little sibling immediately
No birthmark or signature sound required
He’s already imagined and even generated what you would’ve looked like had you survived
If you revealed yourself during their siege on the united liberation front
You might have saved a few lives or made the death toll a beat higher
Gigantomachia recognizes you and immediately prepares to catch you if you appear in front of him
Showing up in front of the unfinished Shigaraki he barely computes that it’s you
He instructs the nomus to capture you safely while he focuses on Deku
With his newly awakened body he gains AFO’s relaxed visage
Which causes even more of a divide when in their little mind meld Tomura realizes he knew
“All these years…and you never thought to tell me!?”
Capturing you may not be an immediate priority because they both know the heroes wouldn’t do that
….but after what happened to Twice who can be sure
It’s only an issue if you’re providing substantial support to the heroes with your own quirk
Then that is a rebellion neither of them are happy about
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere shigaraki tomura#yandere shigaraki#yandere all for one#yandere AFO#platonic yanderes#platonic yandere#platonic yandere x reader#platonic yandere shigaraki#yandere bnha#yandere mha x reader#yandere mha#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere my hero academia
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Puppy Love
By: fairystar111
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia
Summary:
Quirk: {Puppy love}: The user emits a pink ray from his hands. Once a target is hit they become the type of dog most suited to them. The quirk can only be undone by true love's kiss ie. platonic, friendship, or romantic. If the target manages to get a kiss from someone who truly loves them then they will transform back to human form. [Warning!]: If the quirk is not undone within a month, permanent canine characteristics will begin to accumulate on the target’s real body. If the quirk is not reversed within three months the target will lose their humanity, permanently becoming a dog. Or Shigaraki brings home a new pet
Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko
Tags: Animal Transformation, Dog Midoriya Izuku, Fluff and Angst, Kidnapping, Unintentional Kidnapping, Yandere, Yandere Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Platonic Yandere, Platonic Kissing, Fluff, Body Horror, Protective Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Possessive Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko
The day had started off pretty normal for Izuku. He had woken up early Saturday morning to clean his dorm before going home for the weekend. He made it to his mother’s apartment uneventfully and spent the morning together. Then his mom had asked him to run an errand for her. All he had to do was pick up the ingredients for katsudon at their local market down a couple of blocks from their home. That was it. Now here he was stuck as a dog in a dirty alleyway.
He didn’t mean to get into trouble and be hit with the thief’s quirk, okay! But he wasn’t just going to stand there and let him get away! He’s a hero student; he can’t not help those in need. When he heard the kind old shop lady screaming out she was being robbed, he couldn’t help himself. His body moved on its own, and before he knew it, he was bolting out the door after the masked man. He managed to corner the man in an alleyway and was going to call the authorities. He didn’t expect to be hit with a strange sparkling pink ray of light and fall flat on his face.
Izuku screamed in agony as he felt his body shifting. Bones twisting and breaking, transforming into something much smaller. His face, nose, and mouth being crushed down and reformed until he couldn’t scream, only release high-pitched little whimpers. The last thing he felt was something popping out of him near his lower back, or what used to be his back. Then a voice from above spoke.
“Oh well, aren't you a cute one? I don’t doubt you’ll be able to charm anyone that comes across you.” The thief tapped the pup on the nose when he noticed him dozing off, tired from the strain of the transformation. “Hey, listen up! I’ll give you some advice since you seem like a promising young kid. The cure is love. Well, I gotta get out of here. Good luck with that!” with one last pet he left, leaving Izuku all alone.
The boy managed to drag his new foreign body into a dirty ramen case near a dumpster. When he heard a distant voice call out, “Oh, and make sure you're out of that form within a month!” before passing out.
===
It was dark and cold when he awoke. He tried to stand up, but his body felt odd, like he was unbalanced; even his vision was off. It was the middle of the night, but he could still see clearly, albeit the colors around him looked off. He looked down and yipped when he found paws in place of feet. W-what happened?
Then he remembered the thief from earlier had hit him with his quirk. What had the man said?
Something about love being able to undo it. What was that supposed to mean? Is he supposed to get someone to fall in love with him? But how? He’s a dog. And what then, is the person who loves him just supposed to make contact with him? Maybe pet him or...oh...oh no…this quirk can’t be so cliché that the cure is a kiss, could it? He’s lucky his face is covered in fur, or else he is certain he would be blushing a tomato red.
Well, love doesn’t have to be romantic; it comes in many forms. He could just find his mom and ask her for a kiss on the forehead. Wait, he can't talk. He’ll just head back to UA and find Kota and then tell him to ask the teachers for help. And what would happen to him after a month? Why was that important enough to mention? Is this going to be permanent if it's not reversed within a month's time?!
The boy didn't notice, but his usual muttering was spilling out of him the whole time, but in dog form it sounded like the weak whimpering cries of a puppy. He had unknowingly attracted the attention of a certain white-haired villain who just so happened to be walking down the alleyway.
Izuku felt the box being shifted upright, and he was knocked off his feet. He peered up to see what had moved his temporary home only to see Tomura Shigaraki peering down at him. He tried to scream, but what came out was more like a terrified yelp. He scrambled into the corner of the box, narrowly avoiding the deadly hands reaching for him.
“It's okay, little one; you don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.” He hears a gentle, scratchy voice coo. Is Shigaraki talking to him?! The same Tomura Shigaraki that held him hostage at the mall and spoke like a crazed lunatic. Why is he looking at him so softly? Oh right, he's a dog now. And judging by the height of the box around him, a very small one, likely a puppy. Huh, I guess even villains are weak to puppies.
The box is lifted into the man’s arms, and suddenly Izuku is being carried somewhere. Izuku tries to growl or bark at the man to show his displeasure, but all that comes out are weak little cries. It seems his new body is quite underdeveloped. “Shh, shh, I know it's scary being all alone in such a big world when you are so small. I'm going to take you somewhere safe.”
He feels the man walking for a bit before pausing. Izuku hears a brief whoosh sound, and then he is inside the League’s base. Or at least he thinks it is; all he can see is the ceiling. The walls of his box are too high for him to look over. He heard what must have been other League members greet Shigaraki.
“Whaddya got there, boss?” He hears a deep, gravelly voice ask.
“Uh…soup. I'm going to my room now; don't bother me.” The man said abruptly before hastily retreating with the rustling box in tow.
“Aww man, I wanted some.” A feminine voice whined.
“That was clearly not ramen,” responded the first voice.
“Yeah, no,” He heard another strange voice say before the door was shut and locked behind him.
Shigaraki took him out of the box, grabbing him with all ten fingers. Izuku tensed, bracing for disintegration, yet nothing happened. Shigaraki simply placed him on his bed while he fiddled with his phone for a moment.
He took the chance to take in his new surroundings. Shigaraki’s bedroom was huge, with massive floor-length windows and a large balcony. The bed he was currently sitting on was unnecessarily large, piled high with plush pillows and blankets. An enormous TV hung on the wall with multiple gaming consoles connected to it, and he had an expensive-looking computer setup in the corner of the room. While the shelves on the walls were a little cluttered with manga and figurines, the room itself was fairly clean aside from a few empty energy drink cans and chip bags littering the desk. Nothing at all like he was expecting.
Where had the League acquired the funds for this type of luxury? Their last hideout in Kamino had been a desolate ruin compared to this place. How did they gain this much power in such a short amount of time? This is a cause for concern; when he returns back to normal, he’ll report this change in status right away. If they were gaining followers powerful enough to sponsor this type of lifestyle. It could be detrimental to the hero's side if an all-out war were to—eep! His mumbling is cut short as he is picked up.
“Shh, shh, don’t cry; it’s alright; your food will be here soon. You must be so hungry.” He tried to struggle out of the villain's lap, but his pudgy little limbs were not strong enough to push him away. His body seems to be quite young; he can't move the same way he’d seen dogs running around in his neighborhood move.
There was a knock at the door, and he was put down as Shigaraki gathered what seemed to be multiple bags of pet supplies. He heard a faint, "You know, you could say thank you, asshole!” from the other side of the door as it was shut abruptly. The villain busied himself on the other side of the bed sorting through the bags and pulling out a can of formula and a tiny bottle. He read the instructions on the can and scooped a tiny bit of powder into the bottle before crossing the room and opening the door to what seemed to be a bathroom.
He heard the faucet running and wondered for a moment why Shigaraki was making a bottle. It was only when the nipple was put up to his face that he realized it was supposed to be for him. “C’mon, what was all that crying earlier for? Go on, eat.”
Well, he was hungry; Izuku hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so he hesitantly latched on to the tip of the bottle and sucked. He expected the formula to be gross, but the liquid was lukewarm and thick, tasting like sweet, creamy milk. Once he started drinking, he couldn't stop, his new instincts urging him to eat as fast as he could until he was full.
“Good puppy.” Izuku felt his face flush as the villain praised him for simply eating, gently petting him as he encouraged him to drink more.
“You're so small, you look like you've barely opened your eyes. Did your family abandon you? Were you all alone on the streets, crying for help and being ignored by every passerby? The world can be so cruel to those who do not fit the mold in society. If you have nothing to offer the world of heroes, they're happy to leave you alone to die on the streets…” The man trailed off into silence, eyes glazed, staring into nothing, petting him absentmindedly. There was something off in the man's tone, like what he was saying was sort of personal. He contemplated what could have made the man the villain he is today for a moment but found himself nodding off to the rhythmic petting and tummy full of warm milk.
===
He’s woken up to the sound of running water. He found himself lying on a towel on the side of the large sink. He straightened his paws in front of him and used all his strength to push himself up into a sitting position. He stared straight into the large mirror. To the left of him he saw Shigaraki running a bath in the large sink, and to the right he saw himself for the first time. He knew he had been changed into a dog. The thief had said so after all, but to see it with his own eyes was shocking.
He was so small; from what he could tell, his body was about two months old. He had his same soft, curly hair and big green eyes. Though his fur was dark, almost black, it shone green in direct light. He had a white fluffy belly with a pink freckled nose and soft rosy paw pads. He was, to put it simply, adorable. He could see why even a villain like Shigaraki would want to ‘rescue’ him.
Izuku watched the dangerous set of hands reaching for him in the mirror but didn't bother to dodge this time. Shigaraki has shown he has no hostility for Izuku in this form and that he has far better control of his quirk than he did in the USJ. He no longer needed five-point activation to access his quirk. Which is another change he’ll make sure to report to the heroes.
“Sorry puppy, but you need a bath; you smell.” The villain muttered as he dipped him into the warm water. Soaking his fur before squirting a dollop of shampoo onto his back and slowly massaging it in.
A poke to his stomach then, “What a chubby little belly, so full of milk.” Okay, rude. It's unfortunately true, though, with the water crushing down the curls, his body looks like a potato with four toothpicks poking out of it for legs.
The villain continues on with his bath, gently rinsing the soap suds out of his fur before draining the sink and placing him back onto his towel, gently rubbing him dry.
“They're all done. You've been such a very good–wait, what even are you?” He hears Shigaraki ask before he’s being flipped onto his back and stared down.
“Oh, definitely a boy.” Izuku growled when he realized what he was looking at. Biting the finger closest to his face and shaking his head, aiming to tear skin. The man, however, just chuckled as if his attack meant nothing.
“Alright, alright, I'm sorry. Guess you don’t like being flipped on your back like that.” No, I just don’t like an S-Tier villain who can crumble things to dust staring at my weewee, thank you very much!
The man carried him out of the bathroom, turning off the light behind him and setting him back on the bed, all while Izuku continued to nip and growl at him. Shigaraki went back to the bags, pulling out several more items and moving them to a corner. He laid down several puppy pads onto the floor along with a fluffy dog bed that resembled a cozy cave and some stuffed toys.
“Alright, I’m tired. Goodnight puppy.” The man slumped forward onto his bed and was out within seconds. That doesn't really seem healthy, but it's none of Izuku’s business, so he puts it out of mind.
Izuku waited until he was absolutely certain the villain was asleep and made his way out of his bed. He looked around the room for any exits or useful information surrounding the League but found nothing. The room was locked tight, and the floor was free of any debris.
He made his way toward the windows hoping to see a familiar cityscape and start formulating a plan to escape, but the view held nothing but miles and miles of forest; there weren't even any lights indicating homes nearby. The moon glowed, and the stars shined brighter than he’d ever seen before; the lack of light pollution indicated the absence of inhabitants in the area.
Meaning Izuku was completely and utterly alone at the mercy of these villains. Even if he manages to make it out of the mansion, his young body won't be able to make the journey back to civilization. He would likely die from starvation, exhaustion, or a predator preying on him. There’s no way he can make it back to UA like this.
Alright, this is not the time to panic; he just needs to think rationally and analyze his options. He can’t access his quirk in this form. He can’t speak, nor does he have the stamina to move large distances. So that means the most probable way he’ll be able to escape is through their mode of transportation.
If the villain's base is in the middle of nowhere, they have to be getting all their supplies transported in somehow. Judging by this room alone, the base was most likely huge.
The mist villain certainly couldn't be doing everything himself. No, there have to be vehicles to help bring things in and out. If he can manage to sneak into someone's bag or hide in a load of cargo meant to be sent out, maybe he can find a way back to–yelp!
Izuku screamed as he was suddenly picked up, derailing his train of thought. He hadn’t even heard the villain wake up, let alone walk over to him. His heart was hammering in his chest, wondering what the villain would do to him for waking him. So far he has been nothing but kind to him, but he doesn’t know if a sleep-deprived Shigaraki will extend the same courtesy.
“It’s okay, puppy. You can sleep with me; stop crying.” Shigaraki sleepily muttered, getting back into bed. This time actually slipping underneath the blankets and resting him on his chest, one hand cupping Izuku’s back, securing him in place.
‘It's just for now,’ Izuku thinks. He’ll lay in wait until he finds an opening to escape. For the meantime he’ll just have to play the role of pet dog. He can do this!
===
Izuku’s abruptly woken up by the man gasping awake, lurching forward and sending him tumbling off his chest. Izuku growled up at the man to show his displeasure.
The villain groggily grumbling out, “Huh? Oh right, sorry puppy,” and petting him in apology. It seems the man had forgotten he brought him home last night.
Tomura got up, stretching out his limbs, chuckling when he turned to see Izuku doing the same. He dropped him off in the makeshift bathroom in the corner before he went to the real bathroom.
‘I can't do this!’ Izuku thought. The man had left him in his corner with firm instructions to ‘go potty’ while he went to get ready for the day. Izuku has been sitting, staring out into nothing for the past fifteen minutes. He failed to realize just how helpless he is as a puppy. He can’t even use the normal restroom or chew food on his own. How is he supposed to escape in these conditions?
Izuku startled as the door creaked open. The man walked out in a black suit with a long red cape. The cape had fur lining the collar and gold embellishments keeping it closed. It made him look regal, frighteningly like…a king.
The facade broke, though, as he stared down at him in concern. “Maybe you need to eat some more first?”
He got a new bottle prepared in a dash and was feeding Izuku in his lap when he told him. “I’ll be away most of today. Someone else will come by to feed you lunch later. I should be back by dinner. Remember to be a good boy and go potty, okay?” He left soon after, leaving Izuku alone.
Izuku had been planning on eavesdropping by the door while Shigaraki was away, but as soon as he was plopped into his bed, he knew he was a goner. He was so full of warm milk, and his bed was so dark and cozy. He fell asleep after spinning around in circles and fluffing his bed way too many times. Only waking a couple of hours later due to the eerie feeling of someone staring at him. He opened his eyes and saw a red reptilian eye peeking at him through the opening of his den.
He let out a scream-like bark, diving into the furthest end of his cave. Something inside of him was telling him to hide because there was a large predator out there. Logically he knows it's just Spinner, the villain with a heteromorphic quirk, but his instincts are telling him he is going to be eaten.
The villain loudly exclaiming, “Oh shit!” and flinching backwards in response to him didn’t help either.
“Sorry, little buddy, I didn't mean to spook you!” The gecko man slowly sank down on his knees, patting them and cooing. “Come on, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you.”
Izuku hesitantly walked out of his home. The faster he eats his meal, the faster the new villain will leave.
“Good job, little guy.” The gecko villain held his arm outstretched, leaving his palm open towards him, waiting. Izuku guesses he wants him to sniff it before he lets him pet him. That’s what a normal dog would do, so he does it. He bumps his nose into his palm and allows the man to pet him.
He does so for a while before switching his hoodie on backwards and slipping Izuku into the hood. He walked towards the desk where Shigaraki kept his supplies and rummaged through the drawers until he found his formula and a clean bottle.
“Alright, let's get you fed. Shiggy said you needed two ounces of water per one scoop of dry milk powder.” Spinner said as he measured out the formula and water, carefully shaking the bottle and testing if it was the right temperature. The man made the bottle with a familiar sort of ease; Izuku wonders if he had any siblings before he decided to become a villain.
He’s fed once again, then put back into his bed. The man excused himself to go to ‘work,’ whatever that means. He refuses to use the ‘potty’ despite how much his bladder is starting to ache and goes back to sleep.
He wakes up to a concerned Shigaraki. The man takes him out of his bed and places him back onto the pads, encouraging him to use them. Izuku refuses; he shuts his eyes and ignores him. He refuses to let go of his dignity. He is not an animal, and he will not act like one.
He lasts three days refusing to use the puppy pads. After he overheard Tomura mention taking him to the vet to Spinner, he caved, bearing the humiliation of having to go to the bathroom like a dog. Seeing Shigaraki visibly sigh in relief when he saw the soiled pads was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. He's trying his best to stay sane, but he is beginning to go crazy. Each day feels more degrading and dehumanizing than the next, and he wants nothing more than to go home.
===
He meets the rest of the League a few days later because apparently Tomura thought he needed to be socialized with the rest of the villains after hearing how badly he reacted to Spinner.
He’s brought out to the living area and set down in the middle of the room. For a minute he is just stared at incredulously by the group of lounging villains. Before Toga breaks the silence, squealing,
“Hi soup!” The girl made a dash for him, picking up Izuku before he could even try to run away.
“That's not his name, idiot!” Shigaraki growled.
“So it's a boy? No, it's a girl!” Twice asked, petting the puppy in Toga’s lap.
“What is his name then?” Spinner asked.
“…”
“He doesn't have a name yet, does he?” Dabi snarks from the kitchen nearby.
“Of course he does!” He really doesn't. Tomura’s just been calling him puppy this whole time.
“Oh yeah, what is it then?” Dabi taunts, walking in with a steaming cup of coffee.
“Uhhh…it's Sprout!” Tomura shouts. ‘Well, that's news to me.’ Izuku huffs. He was hoping Shigaraki would get bored of him and not bother to ‘name’ him. His mother always told him, ‘Don’t name things you're not planning to get attached to; it will just be harder to let go when the time comes.’ He hopes that won’t be true for the villain because Izuku is leaving him whether he likes it or not.
“Sprout?” The group collectively tilted their heads.
“Yeah, because he may be nothing but a tiny bud now, but eventually he’ll sprout into a ferocious beast that will tear you apart on my command!” Yeah, no. No, Izuku absolutely will not.
“Sure, boss…” Dabi said in a tone that sounded like he didn't quite believe him.
“He has a very strange coat coloration. I've never seen a dog in such a fascinating shade of emerald before. Are you sure he’s not a quirked animal?” Mr. Compress asked, gently taking Izuku from Himiko, holding him from his armpits and staring at him.
“Not sure; I found him in an alleyway dumped in the trash on the way back from a meeting with Giran.” Huh, so that's what he was doing when he found Izuku.
Dabi raised a brow. “A street dog, huh?”
“He’s just like us! Abandoned and unwanted before joining the League.” Toga grinned up at the white-haired villain.
“Yeah…yeah, he really is. Welcome to the League of Villain Sprout.” Shigaraki cooed so softly he doubted the others could hear it. Izuku didn’t know what to do with the soft smile being directed straight at him. It was so genuine and filled with warmth; Izuku felt bad being the one on the receiving end, knowing he’s not actually a puppy and doesn't intend on becoming Shigaraki’s new pet. He’s distracted from his guilty thoughts when Kurogiri walks in, his yellow eyes widening in shock as he stares at Izuku before narrowing at the white-haired villain.
“TOMURA SHIGARAKI! WHAT IS THAT!”
“Oh shit-” Seeing Shigaraki try to run away only to be instantly portaled back into the room by Kurogiri was hysterical. The other villains sent him amused glances and taunts that Papagiri was going to get him, which only made Tomura try to get away faster. Seeing the villain look like a kicked puppy as his caregiver scolded him for bringing a dog home without permission while pouting back that ‘he was the supreme leader now and could do whatever he wanted,’ only to whine when the mist villain threatened to take away his video games, was so surreal.
Seeing the softer sides of villains that he would have never been able to see as a hero was odd. They were just so human; they liked to bicker and play, had hobbies and interests, they behaved nothing like they did on the battlefield. Living with the villains so far has been strange, and he had a feeling things were only going to get stranger.
===
Over the weeks he’s spent with the man, he’s learned quite a few things. Shigaraki is no longer the tantruming man-child he had been at the USJ or the edgy, immature, teen-like villain he had been at the mall. He’s much more mature in a sense; he no longer loses his temper at the drop of a hat or seems quite so irrational. From the bits and pieces of stories he’s overheard from the other villains, the man is a terrifyingly efficient leader now.
Though he still has some flaws, like despite being the leader of an army and being surrounded by hundreds of followers. Tomura was so very alone. There was a clear boundary between him and the League that neither party wanted to cross. Maybe it had to do with his quirk or the position of power he held over them. Izuku doesn’t know.
The man had horrible mental health issues and insomnia. Some days the only reason he would get up at all was to feed him. He barely slept, and anytime he was able to get some sleep, he would be awoken by nightmares and often silently cry until it was time to start the day. Izuku can't just ignore someone crying for help, so he often starts whining next to the bed, begging to be picked up. It’s only when he’s cuddled up next to Shigaraki that the man is able to sleep peacefully. Izuku got so used to doing it that Shigaraki ordered him a little ramp so he can get on the bed all by himself.
Despite everything, Tomura was kind and gentle in private. He played Animal Crossing and made cute little areas for his villagers to play in and got genuinely upset when one asked to leave. He said things like ‘big stretch’ when Izuku would stretch out his little limbs after his naps. He got so excited whenever Sprout would ‘learn’ a new trick for him, smiling so proudly down at him it made his head feel all fluffy and warm. Listen, Izuku didn't want to play or follow the man's orders, but whenever he did, it helped push away the man's perpetual cloud of sadness. Being ‘Sprout’ helps him relieve his sorrow and stress and allows him to be happy even if just for a moment.
Shigaraki speaks to him a lot. Izuku often wonders if he knows he can understand him or if he had a pet in the past he treated the same way. Or maybe he just wants someone to talk to who won’t judge him. He can understand being lonely with no one to turn to. He learns that the man was left abandoned on the street as a child and that is why he took him in. Shigaraki hadn’t finished that line of thought, but Izuku can only assume it was All for One who found him.
Izuku felt a deep pity for the man. Who knew what he could have been if AFO had not found him and groomed him into villainy. Would he be happy and carefree? Maybe even a hero? He could have been anything if not for that monster. The point is he wants to help him! He can’t change the past, but if being ‘Sprout’ for a little bit helps, then so be it.
The only problem is the longer he stays in this form, the more instinctual his behavior becomes. The other day he growled and snapped at Toga for aiming her knife at Tomura. Izuku hadn’t even meant to, but something inside him told him to protect his master, and before he knew it, he was sinking his teeth into the girl's hand.
It was becoming worrying; the thief said he had to be out of this form in one month, and if Izuku’s calculations are correct, it has been a little over four weeks since he arrived. He was becoming more like a real dog as time passed. He needed to get out of here.
===
The next weeks turn into a vicious cycle of him failing to escape and falling deeper into his canine instincts.
Izuku used to hate the feeling of being petted. He thought it was degrading, but now he practically throws himself into any hand willing to do it, especially Shigaraki’s. Same with being called a good boy; at first it was embarrassing, but now it was like an instant shot of dopamine to his brain. It made him all fluffy and happy and made his tail wag.
He tried his best to leave while the man was away but always found himself too anxious to actually do anything. His instincts were telling him Shigaraki is the leader of his pack, and being near him made Izuku feel safe and secure. The more days passed, the more anxious he felt without the villain, and the harder it was to run away.
It didn’t help that he was starting to get attached to the rest of the League too. They are a part of Shigaraki’s pack, so that makes them his pack too. Most of them are just broken young adults who were forced into this life. Their pasts are full of quirk discrimination, mental disorders, and abuse. They didn’t ask for this; they didn’t choose this life.
I mean Toga, despite her bloodlust and penchant for stabbing, is just a kid. She still gets excited over puppies and stickers, pouts over having to finish paperwork, and cries out for parents who will never answer her when overwhelmed. She treats the league like they’re her own family. It makes him so sad to think what she could have gone through, that villains were the only ones who didn’t make her feel bad for a quirk she was born with. He wants to help them all, but he can’t do it in this form.
===
Exactly one month and three weeks since arriving at the League’s base, he finds his opening for escape. He’s spent his time carefully building up trust and bonding with Shigaraki, never once running from him and doing whatever he wants. Now the man allows him to roam around the upper level of the mansion as he pleases. He usually goes out to the living room to hang out or visits whichever League members have their doors open for him. Dabi and Toga usually have biscuits in their rooms; they're happy to feed him if he does a trick.
His body has grown older; he has far more mobility than he did before and can eat solid food now. He thinks his body is around four months old now. He can run and jump and has much more energy, perfect to use for his plan.
Earlier in the day he had overheard Toga saying she was planning to set up a picnic in the garden when he was playing with Dabi in the living room. The girl had rushed down with a big wicker basket and announced to the League they were going to eat lunch outside. Most of them groaned a bit but indulged her in the end, promising to meet her outside when it's ready. The girl had squealed and rushed into the kitchen to begin preparing the food with Kurogiri.
When they finished preparing the food, Toga had set the basket onto the floor while she went to gather a blanket for them to sit on and other supplies. He snuck away from the eyes of the League and made his way to the large basket. It took him three tries, but eventually his jump was successful, and he tumbled down into the basket, landing on a sandwich.
His heart raced when he heard someone ask, “Where’s Sprout?”
“He probably followed Toga to her room for treats.” Dabi answered.
“Ugh, I keep telling her to stop spoiling him so much; she’s going to make him fat.” Tomura complained.
“I wouldn’t know anything about that, boss.” Dabi whistled.
Eventually the girl came back, grabbing the basket and snapping the flaps closed, then asked Kurogiri to warp her outside. “Come out in ten minutes, okay!” she said. Receiving dull okays in response except for Twice, who answered back excitedly.
Izuku shivers as he feels the girl walking through the portal. He feels the girl set down the basket with a thump and hears her begin to set up. Izuku only needs her to step away for a moment to make a run for it. The basket is moved again; Izuku shudders as one of the flaps creaks open, letting in a ray of sunlight. He thinks he's about to be discovered when–Ring! Ring! The girl’s phone goes off. He hears the girl turn to answer her phone, and the basket is closed shut.
“Hello? Oh, did I! Whoops, can you open up a portal so I can go get them? No, it's okay, I can do it!” He can only hear Toga's side of the conversation, but from what he gathers, he thinks she may have forgotten something for the picnic. This may be his chance; if she leaves, he can run.
His heart stops racing when he hears the whooshing of the portal opening and Toga’s steps fade away.
He waits a moment before peeking his head out. He sees it’s all clear and jumps out of the basket, tumbling onto the grass. He doesn’t waste any time in running forward into the tree line. The forest floor was rough on his little paws. He could feel sticks and rocks digging into his feet, but he kept running. He couldn’t stop no matter the pain; he had to keep going.
He’s been running for a while, darting in and out of sight as he tries not to be caught. He doesn't know how far he’s gotten since, from his height, everything looks the same, but he knows he’s made no progress in finding a road. He was beginning to get tired, and everything in the forest looked similar. No matter how far he goes, there is no change.
Eventually Izuku finds an empty burrow at the root of a large tree. He enters intending to only rest his legs for a moment but ends up falling asleep. When he awakes, it’s dark outside; he can only hear the hooting of owls and the chittering of critters outside the burrow.
He debates going out and gaining more distance between him and the League. On one hand, the smart thing would be to stay put and wait till sunrise to move. His body is small and won’t be able to fight off a predator if needed to. On the other hand, the League most likely already knows he is missing, and the more time he wastes, the bigger the chance he’ll get recaptured.
His time is running out; it's already been over a month. He has to take this chance. Despite his better judgment, he steps out of the burrow. His dog body has far better night vision and hearing than his human body, so he should be okay as long as he stays out of sight.
He creeps on the forest floor, slowly making his way through the darkness, trying his best to keep his footsteps silent. He doesn’t notice the owl swooping down on him before it’s too late. He screams when long talons sink into his soft belly, piercing through him. He tries his best to fight back and wiggle out of the bird's claws and dislodge them, but it only causes them to sink in deeper.
He did his best to scream as loud as he could, but he was bleeding so heavily, and he was beginning to get tired. ‘Is this how I die? Poor All Might, he should have never wasted his legacy on someone so useless…’ he thinks as the world begins to fade.
The bird brings down its beak and bites a chunk out of his leg. He feels the flesh and muscle being ripped out of him. His vision blacks out; the last thing he hears are rapid footsteps and then water? He didn’t know what it was, but his whole body felt wet. Something was shaking him and screaming in his ear. He thinks it's a human?
“Sprout! Sprout! Sprout, wake up!” Izuku opens his bleary eyes and sees Shigaraki. The man had tears running down his face and looked so hurt. He was crying, screaming out, “Please, God! Please don’t take him too! Haven’t you taken enough!” Izuku wished he could help comfort him, but he felt so tired, his body felt so cold, and he just wanted to rest. He’s spent his whole life fighting; maybe now it was time to rest…
“Tomura Shigaraki, he is gone.”
“No! Don't say that! He's not dead–he c-can't be." The villain sobs in agony, kneeling to rest the cold puppy onto the forest floor. He hangs his head over the body and whispers, “Everything I touch I destroy. I'm sorry it had to happen to you too. I loved you so much. Goodbye." Tomura presses a kiss onto the puppy's head. The moment his lips made contact with Izuku–Poof! A cloud of pink smoke exploded from Sprout's body. When the smoke cleared, there lay the naked, bleeding body of Izuku Midoriya.
“I-i–what?” Shigaraki stared in shock. This boy, Izuku Midoriya, is Sprout. Sprout is Izuku Midoriya. His baby, his Sprout, has been the green-haired brat he’s been trying to murder for months. They are one in the same. They have been the entire time.
Upon closer inspection he noticed some irregularities. Nestled in his fluffy green hair were a pair of pointed ears and a tail sticking out of him. He never had those before; maybe this wasn't a planned infiltration. Maybe it had truly been an accident that caused their paths to cross and intertwine in a way that will change the both of them forever.
Well, it doesn't matter how it happened; Izuku is irrevocably his now, and nothing can ever change that.
“He’s still breathing; take him to the doctor now!” Tomura barks the order at the nomu, who was standing in a sort of hesitant manner.
“Tomura Shigaraki, I would highly advise against-”
“I don’t care! He’s still my Sprout. He’s staying with us no matter what.” Shigaraki picks up the boy and walks through the portal. He sinks his face into the boy's curls and whispers, “Don't worry, Sprout; I’ll make sure you get better. Everything will be okay, I promise.”
#platonic yandere#parental yandere#yandere shigaraki tomura#kidnapped izuku midoriya#izuku midoriya#yandere bnha#animal transformation
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Mommy needs me! Final Chapter
You inherited to your Aunts farm after she passed from cancer. But you don’t know also inherited giant Mothman-manchild, who is pissing and jizzing everywhere in your house.
A world full of quirks scares and changes everything for you. Life in a quirk habitat, Shigaraki's old nest, was not easy. You start to learn what it really means to be a mother. To be in love with Shigaraki as he creates a family around you. It is annoying when no one tells you when you will be going home, escaping the grasp of the yakuza, Master, and the cops.
Warning: Yandere Mothman Shigaraki, offensive language, violence, mommy kink, references to knotting, piss and lactation, and drug use
(chapter 5: prev)
Final Chapter:
All mine, Shigaraki thought in pleasure.
Cradling his Mommy close. You are still worn out from too much sleep, the coma leaving you weak. The little grub barley has grown. Shigaraki is nuzzling and loving you. You are carrying his grub. Mommy is pregnant with his child. He will be the man of the hive. He will do better. Gain more power. More power. If he has a son, he will have the power to keep him in line. Preventing the grub from trying to steal you for a viable mate. He grinned maniacally at these sweet thoughts. Finally, one plan was working.
Shigaraki growls and holds you tighter. He will be more powerful than his original Father. That is something he has learned. Power is all that matters. He might not be the strongest, smartest, or nicest. But he is the most powerful and that makes him better than his weak, pathetic, broken Father. His claws run through your hair, and you make sweet whimpers of pain in your sleep, so close to your whimpers of pleasure. Fuck! It was making him hard. His cock grew painfully erect. His seed leaking on your belly and hips. He just wanted a female. Power. It was only natural.
He loves this. Having a female to rut, to scent, to love. A female is power. He has the best Mommy. Therefore, he is already the most powerful. He looks at the camera in the corner. Master, he mentally seethes. He left because he recognized how weak he would be with Master who was trying to replace his original Father. He was grateful for not being "exterminated" like the other test subjects. Especially after he ended his family. As grateful as he is to Master, he will not let him have his Mommy. Your eyes flutter, and he chirps sharply to encourage you to wake up. He is on you when you groan and sit up, licking and nuzzling with coos at your smooth neck.
"Not this morning, Shiggy," you groan. Throwing your arm over your eyes, absently smearing his cum on you. Not that there was a lot of light here, you just wanted get your sex fiend of a baby boy off you for a moment. Shiggy is horny all the time. He's become more demanding since you've woken up. To the point, you want to snap at him like an annoying three-year-old. Worse, a bratty three-year-old, that knew so many ways to kill a person. He could touch and turn you to dust, drop you from the sky, or tear you in half with his claws. In your case, it was fuck you to death. You manage to sit up with him with pawing all over you.
You pull on the white shirt and panties the asshole in charge gave you. So magnanimous, you think sarcastically. Some part of you thinks the "Master" is a giant pervert getting off on watching Shigaraki hump you into oblivion. You feel the light tug and touch of Shiggy's claws. He's been helping you in your weakened state, fussing over you like a child in charge. Finishing with helping you put on clothes by caressing both breasts, tweaking the nipples, and trilling. The way Shiggy sucks at your chest, sometimes you wonder if he's happy your pregnant so he can use you as a food source again. You look towards the well-hidden camera in the corner and flip it off. Shiggy peels hissy laughter. Ignoring him while you stretch, trying to stiffly stand, you lightly smack his hands away. The two of you have had nothing but time on your hands.
"Mommy is angry this morning. Need more big boy time, make happy. I can make Mommy feel good," He laughed. He chirps and helps you stand on your wobbly legs. The way he stares at you with total devotion for so little praise forces you to be a better person. All you wanted was more of that look of worship. The time you spend together, weak and helpless, you start teaching Shiggy English. It was incredibly frustrating. You had to learn to be patient and teach him things. He was an eager student and proud of his pronunciation. All your spare time not doing essential functions is playing cards. Shigaraki beats you every time. It added to your frustration.
"I'm starving," you announce to the room, ignoring him. Shiggy growls in displeasure.
"Tests today. Many tests. Only liquid. Father says only liquid diet and water. They have not delivered mail," Shiggy struggles to say. Snorting in self-scolding, short little deep puffs in irritation, fluff from his collar float in the air as he scratches his. You reach out and stop him with a tender touch to the back of his hand. Shiggy wanted to please you.
"Thanks for reminding me. You will be the best, Daddy," you smile. He trills with a ruffle, his entire body shuddering in bliss. He rose like a dominating monolith to loom.
"Sun time. Drink water during the sun time," He demands. Falling into hisses and growls as he scoops you up to carry you to the nest entrance. You can't help it. Your heart pounds like a wild bird caged. When you first woke up confused, Shiggy did everything. He still does everything, not letting you be independent in this habitat. It's not like you could with how weak and how it's set up for someone with wings.
"Eeep!" You cringe and shriek. The look on his face tells you all. A cocky leer splits his face. A mischievous glint in his eye, that smirk dancing at his lips, tells you the tables flipped since he can navigate this world. You must hold onto him as he swings like Tarzan from the habitats nest. You squeeze your eyes shut and pretend you are not plummeting to the earth. Remembering childhood games and mumbling the prayer light as a feather, beseeching he won't drop you each time before he lands with a light jolt. He spreads his wings at the last moment landing softly.
"Soft as a leaf," he laughed.
"Yes, Little Mommy is light. Light and scared. Needs strong male. Needs me. Look. Mommy is light as a feather. Look. Look. Mommy needs only ten minutes in the sun. Then back to nest," he smirked. He is very proud of himself. He was cute like this, so cute you forgot briefly that you were trapped in a fake world. Living in the largest nest hanging from a tree you have ever seen. When you were young, you wanted a tree house. You can see now how stupid and problematic that was without wings.
The white shirt you wear clings to your curves, your hair has grown, and it cascades down your back in soft waves. Standing in a sun-drenched section of the enclosure, the light streaming through the windows cast a warm glow on your skin. Shiggy watches you anxiously from the edge. He does not like the sun and is careful to protect his sensitive eyes. He trills when he pushes a large glass of water toward you. It sparkles like diamonds in the sunlight.
You hold a tall glass of clear, sparkling water in one hand. Brings it to your lips, sipping it slowly and letting a few drops spill down your chin and onto your chest, Eyes half-closed in a seductive gaze as you savor the refreshing liquid.
Shiggy watches water droplets trickle down your neck and between your breasts, creating a tantalizing sight. The water soaking your shirt creates a peek-a-boo effect that hitches his breath. Your breathing quickens as you take another sip, lips curling into a satisfied smile, tilting your head back, letting the last water slide down your throat before setting the glass aside. You stand there for a moment, basking in the sun's warmth and the moment's pleasure. When you hear a pathetic whine, come from the shadows.
"Mommy, please. I don't know why. I feel hot. My body is out of control. My heart pounds. My skin itch. Want Mommy. It's painful. Mommy, please," he begged. Thick hard cock in hand, he slowly strokes his oozing length panting and drooling. When you walked to him, he fell to his knees, running your fingers through his hair. He looked up at you with a face full of pained desire. You could feel your heart breaking for him.
"Your speech is getting much better. My poor baby, you deserve a reward," you whisper.
Without another word, you knelt in front of him and took his length in your mouth. He tenses in surprise and need, leaning back, claws digging into the ground.
"Good, Mommy," he moans, eyes rolling. You could feel the warmth of his skin as you wrapped your lips around his cock, slowly licking and sucking it. He sighed with pleasure, lightly bucking, hitting the back of your throat. The sensations of gentle teasing were too intense and passionate. The feeling of the warm, wet mouth around his penis was incredible. The feel of your tongue and lips moving up and down is incredibly gratifying. He shuddered when your tongue teased his tip. He drank deep of all the senses you are creating. The warmth, wetness, and movement were exciting and satisfying. Hot precum slid down your throat as you relaxed and took more of him. He was so big you worried you would choke on his cock. You could feel the tension in his body melting away as you pleasured him. His face, in painful rapture, was slowly disappearing in his fluffy collar. Three fingers fist your hair, whimpering little, "Ah, ah, ah."
It's hard to breathe with a throat full of cock. You can feel his pulse against your velvety tongue. His grip tightens as he pulls you away, and jets of hot cum shoot down your throat, constricting on his knot as he pulls you away from his knot. The knot gets to be the size of a grapefruit. You are grateful for that. Not grateful for his very salty heady flavor. But your stomach appreciates the gift. His body thrums and flutters, his head thrown back as he growls his pleasure. When he finally stops cumming, you hold him close, letting him know he isn't alone. He pants and keens. You lay with him in the shade of the enormous trees. Suddenly he bolts up. Hissing and fluttering in a tizzy. His cock glistened with your spit and dripping cum. His red hot knot prevented him from retracting his twitching dick.
"Spit! Spit! Bad Mommy! Spit it out!" He demanded. Shoving his thumbs in and opening your mouth wide. Irate when you laughed and playfully shoved him.
"Liquid diet. Don't worry! It won't hurt the grub," you giggle. You gently caress his cheek, running a thumb over the scar on his lips. Your eyelids are heavy with adoration, "You are so protective. I didn't appreciate it before. But after all the scars we both carry. I understand you are amazing."
His body trembles under your touch. Your words knit into the fabric of his soul. You have never heard this keening hiss. His eyes are large and watery before he squeezes them tight, scrunching himself in his ruff.
"Mommy can never disappear. I love you. I love Mommy. You are mine. All are mine. My scent spread. Confusing. I should take all females that are mine. More power. I want to be a good big boy. I will only take the ones I know," Shiggy said cryptically.
"What are you talking about? Can you try again with more words?" You ask him patiently. He shakes his head no like he is coming out of a lust fog.
"Time to see, Father. No, argue," he growled. You are not an expert, but you worry when you look down at your stomach. Am I bloated, or is this thing growing fast? You wonder as you touch the bump forming there.
"That's a good idea," you say, letting him pick you up and carry you to the exit. He stands there holding you and growing visibly agitated, and he takes several swipes to scratch around his eyes.
"Hey! We know you see us. Open up. We have an appointment!" You shout at the door. A crackle of the speaker before the nasty old doctor tickles in.
"We are in the middle of a discussion. You can wait," Ujiko snarked.
"No, we can't. I am about to pee myself," you shot back. The doors immediately open to your shock, "Oh, I should have threatened with that before."
Squirming out of Shiggy's grip, you squealed and ran at Tanaka into a bear hug. She feels too thin to you. Tanaka grunts when you squeeze her too tight, stiffing in shock.
"Oh, we're doing this. We hug now. We're huggers?" Tanaka asks in her monotone. Shigaraki nuzzled Tanaka's hand.
"Absolutely, you bitch. Anyone who saves my life gets a hug," you laugh. A bubble of emotions turns that laugh into blubbering. Tanaka blushes and hugs you back. A low, ominous growl came from Shiggy. Tanaka pushes you away with her hands raised and shakes her head at him while you wipe away tears with the back of your hand.
"Calm down. It's not like that. What title do I get after this? If I die because my title is 'Father,' then I don't want it," Tanaka said, pointing at your belly.
"Is nature to protect mate, to protect Mommy, against everything. I will be a good boy, Father," Shiggy hissed. His claws dug into the floor, not wanting to be scorned by you or Father over scratching his flesh. Mommy likes a full ruff, he reminded himself.
"I really do need to pee. I can feel my teeth swimming," you announce, crossing your legs. The pressure on my bladder mounts when you feel movement. Making you squeal in surprise and need.
"Don't go in here. I will never hear the end of it. The bathroom is-ah," Tanaka yelped.
"Show me!" you yelled when you yanked her in the direction she was looking at. Shiggy on your heels, "No! You stay here. Only ladies!" Giving his chest a rough shove to step back. You run to the toilet, sighing in relief. You didn't bother to shut the door.
"I don't thi-hey, whoa," Tanaka said, turning her back and blushing more furiously when she caught a glimpse of you pulling your panties down, "I don't think that would work to keep him out if he really wanted to come in. What is with this ladies-only nonsense? This isn't a gentrified bathroom?" You roll your eyes at her.
"Obvi. He doesn't know that, and he will do what I say. I just wanted to have a conversation with you without cameras. I swear I had an out-of-body experience. I think I forced a guy on the wall to change his attention to other people. I know that sounds insane. I can't explain it," you say in a rush. Tanaka is mumbling to herself over what you said.
"Did you experience while you were in the induced coma?" Tanaka asked, biting her lip in concern. Drying your hands, you consider it. Little glimpses between the darkness. Mostly the horrible stench of Shigaraki's musk and his whimpering. You tell Tanaka this and shift from foot to foot. More mumbling to herself as you roll your eyes again.
"Are you going to tell me the plan?" You ask. Crossing your arms. Staring at yourself in the mirror. The woman looking back looks like a stranger. You look shallow and too thin also.
"The plan is for you to let Shigaraki and myself care for you. Stay out of trouble. Do whatever they want and keep your head down. You need a lot of tests. A lot of monitoring. You are still in critical care. You don't have to be a doctor to see that baby is growing too quickly," Tanaka says sternly. She turns on the hot water. Steaming the mirror where she writes mic. Hide in rooms next-door, before lunch, for four days. She erases and writes your quirk. Do not tell anyone. She quickly wipes the mirror clean of any traces of the message. You turn and lift your shirt enough to see the carvings in your flesh have healed. But you still have a reminder of hell. You let your shirt drop. You have no idea how you will get to those rooms.
"I understand. Thank you for saving me. I didn't think it would turn out this way," you say, melancholy. Your fingers twisting the hem of your shirt. You have never felt so useless in all your life. Now it's Tanaka's turn to roll her eyes.
"My god, woman. It's what we do for family. And as much as I despise saying this. You guys have been more like family to me than anyone. I always go along with animals better. But you two keep me on my toes enough to always keep my interest," Tanaka said. She was surprisingly humble. You think as you both leave to have tests run. You hate the little shit Doctor Ujiko. You are so happy that Shiggy stays by your side. It keeps the doctor from touching you. That was thoroughly explained to you about How grateful you should be locked up in an experiment cage. They would have kept you in a filthy cage or killed you if Shiggy didn't threaten to escape and Tanaka seduced with data. If Shigaraki didn't threaten to destroy everything he saw if something happened to his grub. If Shiggy had left your side, they would have kept you in a coma until after you birthed.
While they say these things to you, you grit your teeth and feel on edge. A painful need for relief eats at you. All you can think of is the drugs. These monsters want to cage you only after risking your life in an induced coma wouldn't keep their favorite slave compliant. You hated them. You hated the Yakuza, and you hated Master and his disgusting people. You hated them for how they treated your Shiggy. You hated them for how they treated you. You hated how they made Tanaka interested in them. With no drugs, by the way! Unable to enjoy sex! They dumped me in a nest and left me in pain and hungry! Your brain screamed. It was so loud in the lab. Your nails digging into your palms, nerves on fire, as you swallow their shit to survive. When you were questioned by Ujiko, you acted like a broken doll. You feel shattered. Saying things you don't believe or care about, to live one more day in pain.
"Thank you so much!" you beamed. The whole while, your mind screamed for your happy hour. That Chronos is worth it for your six-pack. Finally, that voice has quieted down as your rage grows.
"Well, one good thing to come out of this shit is that I learned enough about quirks. I might be able to deliver this unknown entity," Tanaka said, holding a scanning wand.
"Call it a baby, please," you said.
“A grub,” Shigaraki hissed.
"A grub indeed," Tanaka said with wide eyes showing Doctor Ujiko the ultrasound.
"That's normal. She is developing at a normal rate for Tomura's kind. Remarkable. You must undergo several injections to make up for the vitamin deficiencies. Still, this little parasite is coming along well. What a giving mother," Ujiko laughed.
"Grub," Shigaraki corrected with a low hiss. Tanaka injected you with vitamins and other medications. Drawing blood. All the while arguing with the Ujiko.
"I told you I am a veterinarian. Not a virologist," Tanaka growled.
"This will be interesting. The quirk virus is spreading rapidly. It will be interesting to see how it affects the grub. We are almost guaranteed a variant or another decay quirk since Tomura's genes appear dominant. Look at the pronounced spinal column. That will become an exoskeleton when he's older," Ujiko said.
"Wait, how does quirk work then? There needs to be more literature on it. Clearly, you've been genetically manipulating Shigaraki…um…Tomura,” Tanaka asked.
"Excuse me!" you interrupted, "I'm having a boy?" Shiggy was trilling and keening with joy at your belly. Jerking in shock when the baby writhes in response. Your teeth are clenched, knuckles white as your nails dig into the sable leather of the table.
"Oh yeah, it's a boy. Ujiko, will he have external genitals, unlike Daddy over there?" Tanaka was asking when you felt something mentally snap in you.
"Can I see?" you ground out. Close to biting Ujiko's throat open. You love Tanaka. Ujiko saw you as a thing to use and made it obvious. Tanaka's eyes darted as she pivoted the ultrasound to you. Tanaka turned bright red as she pointed to parts."
"This has a penis…..see," She points, looking away from you with a red face from the significant dangly bits of the baby. Your eyes widen. How is that supposed to be inside your baby? There is no room in your baby to hold that thing! Shiggy was fiercely proud.
"Just like Daddy. He will grow with," Shiggy chuckled.
You mentally smack yourself when you realize Shiggy manages just fine. Once you get past the huge cock and balls, his ball, you correct. With a skull, fingers, and scrunched-up legs. It is your baby. Yours. Your hands shake this time not from need, by from the redirect to kill all threats to this precious thing. Tanaka was sucking on a vape pen. Ujiko had stepped back from striking distance. Your hands are shaking as you stare at your ultrasound. They could not deny you this. He is yours. He is not entirely human looking, and you crave destruction or relief. But this is yours. This is your new addiction.
You didn't know you moved to grip the screen. To burn your son's distorted image in your memory for all time. He was not human. This must be how the first mother of a quirk baby felt. Sad your son will never be normal. But that didn't matter because it was your job to make him always feel loved. Technology has advanced enough that you see details no mother before could understand. The stubby outline of sprouting wings. The sharp pronounced spine and shoulders, stubby fat arms and legs. Their sharp edges are wholly inhuman. The eyes are too large for even Shiggy. Small leaf-shaped feelers pulled back on his large head. What you saw was a god growing in you. The outside world will never understand how special he is and how you are for being blessed with him.
"Shin," you breathe. Everyone freezes. Shigaraki chirps and nuzzles.
"Shin it is. I like. Shinnnnn," Shigaraki purred to your bump. His claws prickle at your flesh as he rubs tenderly with three fingers.
"Most of Tomura's genetic makeup was selected and picked from the test subjects. Quirks are inherited from the parents. Tomura was a variant. His grandmother had wings, and her subsequent children became more insect heteromorph. As we continued to breed that line, we added more little tweaks to his quirk. Shame about his family," Ujiko said.
"What happened to his family?" You asked. Shigaraki loomed, yanking you away from the table with a nasty hiss.
"Enough! Time to eat and rest. Take tube bag out, now," He growled, pointing at the IV.
"No. I am feeling better. Let me visit with Dr. Tanaka," you begged.
He gave in. It is concerning that he knows he could control your life this much. He did not look well. He was fidgeting and twitching like his skin was crawling with ants. Tanaka wasn't looking great, either. But once she was vaping and talking about all the exciting things, she learned about quirks. Now that you have one, you need to understand it, and it's irritating Shiggy won't be patient. Shiggy twitched in mounting boredom. He spent his time hissing anytime Dr. Ujiko came close. The more Tanaka talked and vaped, the healthier she appeared and livelier. Something was endearing and unsettling about it. You have had conversations with her in the past, whole nights sometimes, about the most ordinary things. One time it was about the best kind of chocolate chip cookie. The debate over crispy versus chewy was intense. You preferred chewy, which is the correct answer, but Tanaka took a hard stance.
"Your opinion is mute when considering whether it is chewy or crispy. You would still use milk!" She shouted. You had to laugh because you have never seen her so worked up, "In fact. Real facts! A crispy cookie is drier and therefore absorbs milk faster."
The argument stopped when you felt like you would die laughing. Shiggy snorted between you two, unable to fully understand since his position was all cookies are good. Females are insane and would like cookies and bourbon now. Pleasant memories as Shiggy brings you to the present, ripping the needle from your arm as he carries you back to the horrid habitat. You wanted to rage at him. He was pacing. His mumbles sounded dark. How do you go about this in a way that will be the least harmful to everyone?
"Shiggy, I am unhappy," you sigh, mentally and physically. Instantly he is by your side.
"Mommy needs food? Yes? Make them give us food," he growled. You gripped his wrist. He froze like your hand was a dangerous weapon, looking at you in confusion with a layer of obsession that made your heart beat faster. Loyal and loving. That was different in survival and the business world. But here he is, raised like a caged animal, doing something you struggle with.
"Shiggy. I have not seen Tanaka in a long time. I was looking forward to seeing her. You knew this, and yet you took me away. It was unkind to us both. Tell me why?" you asked at your limit with him. His eyes widened, and he twitched, eyes narrowing while his feelers dropped before his expression relaxed into unpleasant acceptance.
"Females are precious. Females are power. A chance to live on. I wanted my sister. Father thought I was stupid. Not able to care for a female. When sister told I was seducing. He punished me. This time I thought to death. I used quirk for the first time. Killed everyone. I regret the females and the others. Not Father. I was happy to kill him. He taught valuable lessons," Shiggy nodded solemnly in contemplation. Your knee-jerk reaction was not your best moment.
"I am sorry for what you went through. But you are not killing our son," you snarled at him. Wrapping your arms around your belly and glaring at him. He chirped. A beautiful shudder cascaded over his body, his muscles popping out, before he pounced quickly, pressing you down. Panting with heavy lids. You are confused why he is suddenly aroused.
"Such (pant) a good mommy (pant) mine! Want to be in you! Mommy, please. Fuck. I want to feel sweet, Mommy. Big boy time," he begged. You gripped his hair and antennae, making him snarl, shivering in desire and pain.
"No! You promise me you will not kill our grubs or have sex with them. No bad boy touches on our grubs. Promise me, and you can have big boy time," you demanded. His cock grinds on your hip as the panties easily tear away. He chirped, licking your wrist, his long tongue grazing your lips. His red eyes burn into yours.
"I promise. No need to. I have Mommy. I will not hurt grub. Big boy time, now. I will make it good," he begged sweetly. You hesitantly released his ruff. Already questioning his wording.
"Ok. That is an unbreakable promise," you gasped. He thrusted himself deep and hard into you. He was unbelievably quick. Vibrating and shuddering as hot cum leaks from you. He carefully ensured he had not knotted as he slumped over you, gasping for air.
"Better than mine. Better Mommy than mine," his hot breath fanned over your neck. You held him close before you answered.
"Wasn't she also your dad's sister or mother?" You asked. You can feel him tense, "You don't have to do that. Our grub will have options. There is a world full of women." He pulls away aggressively. Refusing to look at you.
"What options? Look at me. Look at the outside world. I will no argue. I will be better. Already have a female chosen for Shin," he rasped.
"What? Who?" You bolted upright at this horrible news. Your heart slammed in fear and shock. Shiggy jumped out of the nest with ease. Leaving you to wonder.
"I get food," he hissed over his shoulder. Shiggy mulled over your words. What kind of options will his boy have? He sought Father's wisdom. Shigaraki did not like Mommy's smell. It was sad. He hated Tanaka's smell. It was growing again, and he pleaded with her to stop smoking.
"Don't give me that look. I already have it. Might as well. What difference does it make now?" Tanaka vaped, rolling her eyes.
"Mommy is questioning," he growled. Scratching his ruff, fluff flying in the air.
"Well, we will cross that bridge when we have to. Avoid the subject in the meantime. We have bigger things to worry about. Just be sure to do your part and ensure she is safe," Tanaka sighed. Shigaraki shrugs, waiting for the food and for Tanaka to finish the vitamin supplement injection.
"None will understand. You are not hearing me," he growled, scratching himself with both hands in irritation at Father's calm. Tanaka put the injection on the tray. Shaking her head.
"You're right. None of us will understand what you went through or what life was like. My mother was a real bitch. But when she died, I cried. The point is your experiences and interpretation of those experiences are the only individualism that exists, so cherish and grow from them," She turns to Shigaraki, "Your new Mommy did not reject you or your grub even after you confessed to killing your family. Go forward, one step at a time. We will learn and grow together. We will all be a happy family. A happy family. Give me four days and our family will be good. "
Shigaraki jabbed his Mommy in the ass with the needle. He can come and go as he pleases. Master can not keep him here. He chooses to stay for his grub. Happy family was code. Code that Tanaka knew everything she needed to keep Mommy and the grub healthy. Growing together meant it was time to leave. The pressure of change has been molding him into something else. He wrapped his arms around you. The first solid food you had in weeks, and you can't enjoy it. The sandwich rolls in your mouth like a pasty lump in a cement truck.
"Do you love me? Are you going to create some kind of harem? Am I Mommy because I was convenient? I just... I just don't know what I'm doing anymore. What am I really? Am I just your mommy replacement? Is that all I am to you?" you asked, tossing the sandwich back on the tray. Shiggy chirps and nuzzles the side of your head.
"Just? Just? Mommy is most important. I love you. I chose because you are kind. Filled with love, grief, and sadness. We dwell in the same house in all things. I saw a scared woman who looked at me with wonder and care. I do not know what I would be without you. I do not need more than you," he inhales your scent deeply. You reach up and touch the scars around his eyes. He leans into your touch, and tears drip from you freely.
"You're speaking so well," You mumble around tears.
"I have the best mommy," he purred.
"You're right. We make our own family. We have each other, and everything else can go fuck themselves. My Aunt said, "Please take care of him. He needs you" I feel she left the rest unsaid for me to figure out. I needed you. I love you. I'm sorry I brought this mess down on us," You wept. Shiggy's wings fold over you.
"Family takes care of family. You no sorry to me," he moaned. Nuzzling and kissing your neck, "Your neck is so smooth and exposed." His kisses turn into lustful whimpers. The ache of drugs fades as you push him down and climb over him. Straddling him between your thighs.
"Lay back like a good boy," you direct him. He nodded, laying back. Closing his eyes, trilling when you wrap your fingers around his leaking cock. Slowly lowering on his length, filling you to the brim. Shiggy trilled, his muscles rippling as he arched up into you, pressing against your cervix. The room was filled with the sound of passionate moans and rumbling purrs. You moved your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm, hands pressed against his chest, vibrating down to his center. Increasing the intensity of your movements. Shiggy's eyes were blissfully closed as he felt your body move against his, his feelers drooping and shivering. His length gliding and grinding all your sweet spots.
The heat between you was palpable, and you felt your desire rising with each thrust. Shiggy could feel his arousal growing, his cock growing swelling and growing hotter. It only made you more revived. Moving faster, pushing him closer and closer to the edge of pleasure. Suddenly he gripped your waist, making you yelp in surprise.
"It's ok. I can control my quirk. I would never hurt Mommy," He moaned. Careful to never touch you with all five fingers, even with his new control. Helping you roll your hips, his claws dug a little too deep, painfully close to breaking skin. You gasp for air as your body bounces on his huge cock. Your pleasure builds into hot bliss. He let out a loud snarl as he reached his climax, his knot expanding. Your hips stutter as you cum and clamp down on his knot. Filling so completely as the heat in your core spreads tingles over your body.
Smiling down in satisfaction as his body shudders beneath yours. He chirped, his crimson eyes drinking in your ecstasy, his knot getting bigger. Too big. You squeaked pathetically as the pressure on your bladder became too great. Squirting piss on his lap. Covering your face in embarrassment, stuttering apologies. Screaming in more surprise when you feel his thumb viciously rub your clit. The small circles make your pussy clench and milk him.
"You're dirty!" You pant.
"Say! Say I am good boy," he pants in your ear with a sharp tone, "Say now!"
"Good boy! Mommy's good boy! I love you. You are the best good boy!" You screamed. Shiggy smirks, biting his lip as he continues his relentless pursuit until you racked your nails down his chest and wept in pleasure. He pulled you close and smiled contentedly as you lay in his arms, the grub kicking. You had never felt so alive and so connected to him before. The speaker crackled before the voice interrupted your peace.
"Tomura. When you are done, we would like to talk," Master said. In the background, you can hear Dr. Ujiko screaming about piss and making the Nomu clean the mess. Shiggy wiped down your legs and let you sleep. Grinning, watching you as you snored so loud the nest shook. Shiggy kisses you and goes to see Master. A bucket was splashed over his groan the moment he entered. Marking is forbidden when you reach a certain age. It is bothersome.
"Kai is coming. It is time. Gather your forces. We will utilize the Nomu to return them to their habitats after they capture the new subjects. You have made progress. Your argument for capturing the Yakuza rather than eliminating them was eloquent. Dr. Tanaka is a tremendous boon. I have always known you were special. I am pleased you have proven me correct. Once things are settled, I would like you to take over the project. For that, you will take my power," Master grinned. Tomura Shigaraki trilled. An old form of respect and agreement.
"Will I have access to all the females I desire for my grubs?" Tomura asked, scratching at his ruff. Taking the Master's power was always a thing. At a time, it would have tempted him. That is why he left. He foolishly wanted to prove he had the might to handle Master's power, growing angrier by the second that it was not given to him. His rage went out of control and destroyed the facility. He would come back after he gained more power and control. Only it never happened. The closer he had grown to your Aunt, the less he cared about Master's power and the more he let his instincts take over.
"Naturally. You can create any breeding program you like when you are in charge," Master encouraged.
"I need Eerie. The child is mine. My scent. I want the females to get used to the nest. She will be a good mate for my son," He insisted, with sharp anxious clicks of his teeth.
"Oh, Tomura. I welcome the practice of grooming subjects young. However, we already agreed that Eerie is patient zero. She is your false child. Your DNA in her was manufactured. Her compatibility must be tested before we can give her to your offspring," Master beamed as if teaching a new lesson. Tomura became more agitated.
"My nature does not recognize a false child. My nature senses my child with my scent. It screams my female. Eri's child is mine. We should at least create visit. Get little female used to Mothmen and our ways. Master, do we not agree that legacy is power? Is power, not all that matters?" He asked. Master steepled his fingers.
"I think we can arrange a weekly visit," Master said casually.
"Quit marking in the habitat," Dr. Ujiko huffed.
"Mate is pregnant. If a nest was made for her lower, there would be fewer accidents," Tomura growled.
"We talked about knotting. If you didn't put so much pressure on her bladder, she would have more control," Dr. Ujiko barked.
"Asking not to breathe," Tomura Mumbled.
"If you want healthy grubs, sanitation is key," Ujiko lectured. Tomura Shigaraki. A name that he will accept as his own because he does love Master in his own way, but he is tired of the little mind games. He prefers you. His stupid sweet Mommy never played games like this. He agreed mentally to get back to you quicker, cleansing himself of the dirty deals his Master desperately made, only to be stopped in the hallway by a vaping Tanaka.
"Ujiko won't let me smoke around the equipment. I know I am vaping more but li-Whoa, hello, what are we doing?" Tanaka asked as he sniffed her more deeply. His feelers tickled over her face as he dangerously gripped her too tight and snuffled at her chest. Tanaka stood there stiffly.
"You are sniffing at the wrong tits, kid. Even if I had some kind of interest in whatever this is. There are no tits, just scars, and despair," Tanaka said with strained composure. He narrowed his eyes and released her.
"The sickness is less. Father smells like me. Smell is weaker than child. More you smoke, less I smell sickness," he chittered, confused. Tanaka's mouth fell open before it snapped shut. The vape back at her lips.
"You are saying I have a cancer quirk. That makes sense. I do feel better after I vape. I was around the kid the most other than Overhaul. I can easily test it. I do not like this quirk. We need Overhaul's research to reverse. Cancer quirk. The most fucked up part is I wonder what it says about me? I wonder if I'm dying quicker?" Tanaka started to hyperventilate as she slumped to the floor. Shigaraki was not used to seeing Father doubt herself. Even when Tanaka was afraid, she took action. Shigaraki shifts on all fours to drop to her level. On impulse, he nudged his large head under her limp hand. He trills while she pets him absently, inhaling deeply of the poisonous vapor.
"Not going quickly. We will heal," Shiggy reassured.
"We have to secure Erie at all costs. She is the vector. With her maybe, m-m-m-maybe-" Tanaka was sputtering. This gave him a moment while her brain seemed to process the error. An epiphany. He reached out and caressed her with his feeler, bringing her eyes to him.
"You take the child. Take the child and run far. Do not worry about us. I will take care of Mommy. Mommy is my risibility. How else will I be the Father?" Shiggy chuckled.
"What the hell are you saying?" She asked his retreating form. In the dark hall, she could understand how he could strike fear in those unfamiliar to him. Insects are terrifying.
His eyes glowed ominously as he rasped over his shoulder, "You are no longer Father. Take child and run." He slipped into the darkness, leaving her there sucking on her vape.
He crawled into bed with you, wrapping his limbs and wings around you in warmth and comfort.
"Mommy?" he asks with a low, breathy hitch.
"Yes?" you questioned back, half asleep.
"Do you trust me?" He asked. You didn't have to think about it in your exhaustion.
"You scare me sometimes. Fear is never a hundred percent trust. Sometimes I don't trust you to make the safe decision. Sometimes I don't trust you to respect me. I flat out don't trust you, other people, and especially not men," You snapped at him. He growls and tries to move away. You tsk him and pull him closer. He doesn't resist as you continue, "I can trust you to be brutal and heartwarming. I can trust you to have my back. I can trust you will not hurt me like your family because I can trust your word. You forget I'm new to the relationship stuff. I am very sorry about my reaction to the news about your family. You deserved more trust and understanding. I am sorry for how I reacted. Come on, baby. Let's sleep. I'm tired."
Mommy gives him too much to chew on, he thinks. It gnawed at his mind. He snuggled in close and planned. If he had known what he knows now, he would have started sooner with you.
Two days later, Tanaka's hands are shaking. She can't focus on her microscope. She did not want to ask Ujiko for his help, but it was just them, and she was feeling weaker.
"Ujiko, can you take a look at this?" She asked. Ujiko glimpsed into the microscope.
"Cancer cells. Are they yours?" He asked, eyeing her. She rubbed her eyes, trying not to cry, and reached into her coat for her vape.
"Not in here," Ujiko gruffed.
"Come on, man? I've had a rough week," She opened her eyes to see ancient yen shoved in her face.
"Go to that disgusting machine with the old expired vending snacks. Get some air. I'll have the Nomu take you," Ujiko said. Tanaka took the money.
"Thanks, man. Do you want anything?"
"God, no. Those snacks are older than me."
The best part about the old vending machine was that it had a broken lock case that perfectly fit a cell phone. Casually reaching her hand up to lean on the machine. To the cameras, it looked like she was deciding what she wanted. The Nomu are experiments, and these low-end ones carry out menial tasks. The one helping her has no way to snitch on her. Turning on the phone near the number pad, what popped on her screen made her heart stop and drop into her gut. She quickly pockets the phone, pulls out the money, and the machine eats the cash. She vaped, instantly feeling better. Wondering what did cancer quirk say about her? Munching on the powdery shrimp chips, she returns to the lab without Nomu's help.
"Feeling better?" Ujiko asked with a slight lilt of concern. Prepping a tray to draw Tanaka's blood. She sits down causally and holds out her arm and the bag of chips for him. She slid her hand into her pocket and pressed a button on the phone.
"Yeah, wants some. Not too bad," Tanaka offered him some chips.
"God no," he said, prepping her arm. Ignoring the needle's sting, she tipped the bag to her mouth, "I have been thinking it would be a waste to lose that mind. I can turn you into a Nomu and preserve that brain."
Dr. Ujiko practically vibrated with excitement at the offer. Tanaka knew animals best, and Ujiko was another animal. A complex one, but Ujiko was an animal nonetheless. She looked at the nasty creature he loved the most. He loved Tanaka in his own way.
"Uh….no thanks. I rather not be a reanimated corpse," she stated in her monotone. Ujiko's face twisted in hurt for a moment. She could see he debated arguing, but what would be the point. Once she is dead, he will take her body anyway. Tanaka could see it dance on his features, settling into an evil grin. She thinks of you and how you used sex to get what you want from Shigaraki. She was not good at manipulation, but now is not the time to be a coward, "How is Erie doing? I haven't seen her in a while."
"She is fine. Nomu and Maser are taking the best care of her. I don't understand why everyone is so worried about the brat. They are easy to keep alive," He snarked, examining her blood.
"Who else is concerned for her?" She asked as nonchalantly as possible.
"Tomura has it in his head that Erie is his property because she smells like him," Ujiko gripped.
"Doctor, I find that fascinating. My last five books were on the social structure of animals. I would like to observe Tomura's interaction with what is essentially a coco bird. She is a baby placed in his nest, and he is caring for it. Can I take Erie to see him? I think she will be more relaxed around me, and I can take notes," Tanaka discussed. She watched Ujiko consider it. Tanaka was inspired enough to throw the pity cherry on top of the gooey word sundae she made.
"Can I take her now? Who knows how long I have?" She asked, with the saddest sickly look she could manage. Ujiko chewed his mustache.
"I really enjoyed your book on feral dogs of the underground train. Why not. Life is short," He said. Tanaka hops up to make a beeline for Erie.
"You are going to do it now?" He shouted after her.
"You said, why not? Life is short! Earth is beautiful tonight with popcorn!" She shouted back to him. Let him believe there is a later, she thought, huffing down the hall. Snatching the kid and running to the habitat you stay in, the girl squirms in her arms as she pants and squeezes her tighter.
Shigaraki heard the buzz of the door. It was too early. Groaning when you clung to him, refusing to let him go.
"Ignore it," you whined.
"Could be food," he graveled in his sleepy state. You immediately released and shoved him.
"Go check," you mumble, rolling over. He should be annoyed with you. He knows he can't complain. He wanted it this way. You are entirely dependent on him and treat him like a big boy. Dropping to the ground without having to carry you was lovely. But when he wanted to sleep, he regretted bringing you here. Not that he had a choice. Pregnant and injured, Father demanded, insisting he had no choice. He was shocked to see Father in front of him, briefly wondering if he was dreaming. What are the odds of thinking of someone and having them standing before you?
"We have to go now. The Chisaki gathered themselves quicker than expected. They are on their way here. The cops are hot on their heels. We need to go now. I have the data," Father wheezes. She is carrying the whimpering child, suddenly scared when she hears Chisaki. Something in him made him reach out and brush the hair from her horn.
"Father will keep safe," He trilled. The little girl looked at him with large desperate eyes. He pushed his ex-father back from the door. Father looked taken aback by the action. He points to the camera, "What are you doing here? Go! Waste time telling me. The eye is always watching."
"I am not cancer. A family looks out for each other. I thought I had at least taught you that!" Tanaka burst at him. Before he can answer, the earth trembles. Shit! Why can't one thing go the way it should? This is two days early! He screams mentally. The back rooms are a quick escape, but at this point, they will empty right into a battlefield or trap, "If you run now, you still might make it!"
Shiggy shoved her harder and slammed the door racing to you. There's a good chance no one knows. A tremor in Japan was nothing new. He had to think. How was he going to get you out? He could decay a door. But that would weaken this part of the facility and warn Master. He didn't hold animosity towards Master. He simply cared more about what he made for himself without Master. He shakes you awake, shoving a jug of water in your face.
"Drink!" He snarled.
"Whaaa? No. I'm not thirsty. It's too early for this. Let me sleep," you whined, rolling over.
"Doctor say need more water. Drink," he ordered. When you ignored him, his eyes narrowed, and he drank the entire jug. He knows one thing you have been having a hard time resisting. He leans close, his rough lips brushing against your earlobe. Pressing to your back as you lay on your side away from him.
"Want to do other things?" He asked suggestively.
You felt a thrill of anticipation as look you're your shoulder and watched him, his eyes dark with desire. His hands moved up your legs, caressing your skin as he went, his claws tickling. You shivered in pleasure, breath coming in short gasps. He paused at your hips, a knee forcing your legs to part, his fingers tracing your navel before going and circling around your clit. A warmth spreads through your body, closing your eyes, savoring the sensation. Gasping in hitches as he touched more sensitive spots, his wicked claws grazing your dripping hole. His fingers teased and tantalized you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He moved closer to you, pressing hard against your ass. You could feel his hardness against your thighs and moaned in anticipation.
"I thought we couldn't anymore because we make a mess," you say. Shiggy pulled his hand away, and you instantly felt regret and loss. I should have kept my mouth shut, you thought. His thumb hooked into your panties.
"We can work around that. Other holes can be fucked," Shigaraki rasped next to your ear. You felt a thrill of excitement when he lathed his velvety tongue up your neck. He spits on his hand, stroking and wetting it before pressing it against your puckering hole.
"Whaa?" you asked in surprise as he entered you. He moved slowly at first, stretching your asshole, his thrusts gentle and teasing. He spits another wade of saliva between you. You squeal in shock. His dick is huge. It stings. Not working up to this kind of stretch is evil. You growl at him as tears prickle your eyes.
"This different. Sucking me in. Gripping the base. Still warm and wet. I am going to cum soon," he groaned. His movements became more urgent, and you felt yourself being taken over by the intensity of the moment instead of the sting. He moved faster and faster, pushing you to the brink of pleasure with each thrust, like the waves on a beach. Your body is trembling with pleasure as he drives into you again and again. Oh god, you are drooling as tingles follow each deep painful stroke.
"Oh god, stop that. I'm about to cum. It hurts," you whimpered, clawing at the nest. Finally, with one final thrust, you both reached climax together. A wave of pleasure crashes over your body. Shiggy had the decency not to knot, but you still ached with bliss and a tinge of disappointment, wanting to be stretched and filled with that knot. His war heat spreads and fills inside as you both lay there panting in exhaustion. He didn't pull out. You are about to roll over and kiss him when he wraps both arms around you and presses you hard up against his knot.
"You are having that water one way or another," Shiggy hissed. Before processing what he said, you feel a torrent of hot liquid invade your intestines. N the crest of your first orgasm, you had another wash over you as Shiggy filled you to the brim.
"Son of a bitch! Bad boy! Very bad boy! Do not piss in me! Oh god," You screamed, gasping from the second orgasm. It oddly felt good until it hit your gut. It roiled, and you could hear Ujiko screaming over the speakers as Shiggy lifted you and rushed you to the front entrance.
"Open it unless you want her to make a mess," he snarled to the camera. The doors instantly parted, and Shigaraki rushed you to the bathroom. But not to the nearby bathroom. You don't know how long to hold it, so this was a horrible surprise. He was moving so fast the wind was whipping your hair.
"Where are we going? What's happening?" you panic with a high pitch squeal when he roughly sets you down on a dingy toilet on the far side of the facility.
"Mommy, safe here. My ally Spinner takes to shelter. Do not leave this spot. I was here when built. Is safe. Stay!" He growled. Stalking away to the lab when a tremor turned into a ground-shaking explosion. Ujiko came over the speakers in a panic.
"The cops and the Yakuza clashed. They are coming for Master. Where is the vector?" Shiggy could hear him huffing and panting to release nomu.
"I know. I signaled my people. I killed child and female doctor. Hid, my mate. I am coming to destroy the lab. Less evidence," Shigaraki growls. Speeding his way to the lab. He had to erase any trace of you, his grubs, Father, and himself. In the chaos, you will slip away. He will eliminate as much of their presence as possible.
"No, not that mind," Ujiko breathed.
"You have less than a minute, then I destroy," He grinned.
After you had emptied your bowels in what you hope you will never remember. You hid in the corner. Jolting in terror every time dust fell from the ceiling and the ground quaked. The woman crouched in the bathroom corner, your heart pounding in your chest. Hearing the faint sounds of shouting and crashing trickling in from outside the door. You didn't know what was happening but knew it was dangerous. Hugging your knees to her chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Terrified, stay quiet and still when a whimper escapes you from the most brutal shake. Forcing yourself not to cough from the dust in the air. If you made any noise, whoever was out there might find you. Your baby kicked, and your mind flooded with bright red rage.
How fucking dare everyone. How dare your Aunt for dumping her crimes on you. Making you an accomplice. Your Aunt knew more than you, yet you still found out he was….was…Oh my god, you thought. No wonder they don't trust you with anything. They think you're a moron. It just occurred to you that your Aunt didn't commit a crime. There was no one safe your Aunt could have given Shigaraki to. Ok, your Aunt is a Saint, but how dare Dr. Tanaka and Shigaraki think your too stupid to tell you what the fuck is going on? You were in a coma after being tortured. They could have told you there would be a fight, and it would be ok. This felt like they are winging it. Where was Tanaka? You would love some of those drugs about now.
You crave to be anywhere but here. You felt it. A river of thoughts riptides your body, pulling you away into the darkness of voices. There was a horrid monster shrieking with many voices. You learned to cup your hands over your ears and let the flow carry you. You can search better by keeping the flood of foreign thoughts out of your head. You see the torrent of thoughts and a giant shape fighting that green boy rookie. Shigaraki is arguing when you hear it. A sad whisper that you could feel more than hear. You swim towards it to see Tanaka doing a shit job of comforting the child as Tanaka is gasping on the ground.
"I'm sorry, kid. I wanted to find your new Mommy. Family doesn't leave family behind. If I wasn't so weak and we had just left. We might have made it in time. I have no idea where she is," Tanaka wheezed.
"You're not my mommy?" Erie asked with a sniffle.
"Trust me, kid. You don't want me as a mommy. Your new Mommy is beautiful inside and out. Your new Daddy, well. You will have a good mommy," Tanaka said drolly.
"I'm in the bathroom, not that far!" You screamed. Tanaka wrinkles her brow and looks toward where you are, "Oh my god! I can do this! That way!"
Tanaka grabs the little girl's hand and starts running with her. The ground shakes, and you toss into a wall. Your body slams in real life, Slamming back to your body. You squeaked at the horrible jolt of pain in every joint. Your craving for the warm hug of Kronos drugs makes your joints ache worse. Is this part of it? One of the things Tanaka jabbered about this. All quirks have a negative effect or weakness. No power comes without a cost. All your joints scream in throbbing pain that matches your heartbeat. Your skin itches and crawls. Your track marks feel too hot. How dare they turn you into a junkie. Bracing against the wall, you use it to reach the toilet, where you hopefully peed for the last damn time. Staggering to the door on wobbly knees, you pull it open with a swirl of dust and shout for Tanaka. Her hand comes out of the shadows and falling ceiling to clasp over your mouth.
"Shhhh! I'm here. Take the kid," She gasped. You pull the little girl to you and run to the most reinforced corner. Locking the door, Tanaka collapses next to you and huddles, her lab coat over all of you.
"Hi, sweetie. We are going to leave here. We are going to leave here and live an average life," You soothed the girl, "What's your name? I'm." She cut you off with the most pitiful expression you have ever seen.
"Are you my new mommy?" She asked with a wobble in her voice. You would have run for the hills if it had been a year ago. Terrified and wondering if you are cut out for this job. But the moment you saw her in Tanaka's arms in that hellhole. A strange swelling of your heart made it hard to breathe. You wanted to protect her. You knew she was yours. It was almost the same feeling as Shigaraki. You held her close. She jumped in surprise when she felt Shin kick her. For a brief moment, you saw the look of wonder. She didn't look like she would go comatose in fear. You understand completely. That look is a deeper reflection of your own.
"Yes, baby. I'm your new Mommy. I was at the compound too. We will take care of each other. What's your name?"
"Eri," she sniffled. Staring at your stomach, trembling in your arms
"Eri. What a pretty name. Do you want to listen to the baby? I'm told he makes cute sounds, and I can promise you'll feel him kick," You encouraged Eri. She was hesitant initially, but then Eri melted against your stomach to the light vibrations. You covered her ear because you didn't want her to hear what you had to say.
"What the hell is going on, Tanaka?" You hiss at her.
"Well. Looks like we're going to die. Just wanted to say I loved you. I know I can't do anything about it. Even if we lived, I couldn't do anything about it. Platonic love," Tanaka mumbled in her monotoned way. Something broke in you. You snapped and saw bright red.
"Oh wow. That does not answer my question. That's ok. I know you think I'm dumb. Clearly, you think I'm dumb. Well, I want you to know I am not dumb. I was on track to be CEO of a multimillion-dollar corporation because I am amazing at flow charts. If we had ever discussed the projection numbers of sugar cane transport, I would have shined. I love you too, Dr. High and Mighty," you growled. Tanaka's brow furrows in confusion, and a chuckle escapes her.
"I'm sorry. The Dr. High and Mighty was very cute. I was not expecting that reaction at all. Makes me wish I had my recorder," She said seriously. You gently pull Eri from you. Standing, you walk over to the paper towel dispenser and shove paper down your pants, "Can we discuss what you're doing?"
"Nope. You never bother to tell me anything. I'm getting us out of here," you tell her. Panting, you work yourself up into a need for escape and fear. A sour taste floods your mouth. Eri whimpers in terror, "I'm going to direct people away from us. When I do this, sometimes, I pee myself. I have no idea what I look like when this happens, but don't be scared. I think I did it for weeks and turned out fine."
"What?" Tanka asked. It was the last thing you heard as you clutched at them and used your quirk.
Shigaraki felt you before he heard you. His face was covered in sweat and dirt, slumped over a lab bench. He is wearing a tattered lab coat stained with blood and grime. His hands shook as he concentrated and touched the ground towards the pests entering the lab. That rabbit bitch killed half the Nomu and stole the doctor. He didn't recognize her from the forest or Yazuka, so the doctor was safe. He will be locked up for a few years at most, Shigaraki guessed. The damage to his arm cracked his skin. Blood dripped from his rough hands. His eyes are sunken, and his skin is pale as if he has not slept in days. Just when his wings healed, they were ragged and torn again. Master was fighting his own fight with the cops. He can already smell his defeat.
Shigaraki looks up at the remains of the ceiling, his expression one of exhaustion and destructive elation. Taking a deep breath, he slowly stands up, his body trembling from the effort. He takes a few steps forward and collapses onto the floor, his body too weak to continue. A shout in the distance he could not understand, a tug and prickle at the back of his neck forcing him to turn in another direction. He lays there for a few moments before slowly getting back up and continuing his work. Mommy is right. Mommy is always right. To protect the nest, he needs to be sure Kai is out of the way. Mommy left. He could no longer feel you as he headed toward Kai. That plain green rookie brat was struggling. He wasn't going to be able to bring him down alone.
The man had morphed into an absolute monster. The damn kid was jumping around uncontrollably. Without precise strikes, the dumb kid will die, making bringing down Kai more challenging. The green brat is strong but lacks real skill. Shigaraki hates the sun. He is practically blind in it. But it's predictable where the child will reach his leap's peak. Like a lightning strike, he builds up speed until he is a blur. The wind whipped his hair, stinging his already burning eyes and face. Using his antennae to scent and guide his trajectory. Shigaraki's stomach provides a base to jump from, and the kid's shoes tear at his flesh as Deku flings him back from Kia's swing.
Kia was directly hit. Shigaraki reached out and clung to the massive hand. His claws digging in had no effect. He could still feel the fight in him. The dumb kid was falling again. They needed to end this before the cops decided to go after him next. He lets loose and decays the arm. In an awe-inspiring sight, he spreads his wings wide and dives down from the sky in swirls of dust. His wings create a powerful gust of wind as he plummets toward the ground. Catching the boy who had broken his arm. As they get closer to the ground, his wings spread again to pull them up sharply, creating a powerful lift that propels them back into the sky.
"Who are you?" The kid asked. Screaming over the rush of wind.
"No one. You never saw me. Put the monster down," Shigaraki gaveled to the boy. The boy shuts his gaping mouth and gives him a determined look of a warrior.
"Got it. Drop me from above!" Deku shouted. This child has a blood lust in him that Shigaraki doesn't want to smell near his nest. They circle around, gaining more altitude. He can feel the child's labored breath as the air thinned before he dives again, rolling to the side as Kai heals his arm and sends it swinging at them. It's a thrilling experience to watch and a testament to the strength of human flight. Duke used him as a springboard. This time he went all out and beat Kai down. Their broken bodies lay beside each other. The others are still busy. He lands and looks toward where his Master is. Losing the fight. Master might have learned to use people but never learned how to work with them. That is his downfall, Shigaraki thinks as he searches for the smell on Kai. It smells like Eri, and he will flat-out kill this bastard if he touches his grub. Instead, it came from a tin with blue and red injectors. No better time than the present to test them. He injected Kai with the red one. His mass disappeared as Kai went back to his original form with three men appearing beside him. Kai is barely conscious when he injects him with the blue one. Nothing seemed to happen.
"I think I understand. Red erases quirks, and blue activates them. How useful. I will keep it. I hated your arrogance the most. Your quirk will be a waste to lose. I will leave it. Maybe one day I can take Master's power and make it my own," He graveled when he ripped off Kai's arms and turned them into dust. Kai whimpered, but there wasn't much he could do. He looked at the boy staring back at him with burning anger, his body a broken mess as he panted and heaved. Perhaps the green kid just realized who created all this destruction. Murdering many of his friends and his own people. He is the king of this forest. Maybe it would be better to kill the brat now.
"I never saw you," Deku said suddenly. Shigaraki smirked darkly.
"That is good. Be well. The next time I see. I will kill you," Shigaraki rasped. Turning to find you, he doesn't sense you in the forest. If one thing goes right, that means you are heading toward home. Shigaraki makes a beeline for the darkest deeper part of the woods. He needed a bit of a rest. He should feel something betraying most of the denizens of the former facility, but he doesn't. He latches onto a tree, blending with the shadows and the bark. When he closes his eyes, he hears a sigh of relief that is not his own. He needs just a moment to rest his eyes and his tattered wings.
"He's ok!" You gasped, awake in a new location. The rush of pain is like electricity sizzling your nerve endings. You had astral projected and subtly directed the war in your favor. Making sure Spinner found you and then took you to La Brava and Gentle when Tanaka told you who to locate.
"About damn time. You're in full-blown labor! Push!" Tanaka shouted.
"Whaa?" You questioned, realizing you were in your Aunt's living room. La Brava and Gentle running around. Tanaka looks pale and thin as her hands are in a place you did not think they would ever be.
"I said to push, for fucks sake. If I was ever horny, this killed it. So push. Don't let my sacrifice be in vain.
"We need Shiggy here!" You shout, bolting upright, while a scaled hand pushes you back down. The lizard man blushes and looks away when your eyes land on him.
"I'm Spinner. He would want his mate and grub to be alive and healthy so I will take care of you," He sputtered.
"Please stay here, Mommy. Your quirk hurts you," the little voice of Eri drifted through the pain. You took a deep breath and pushed. It went on like this until you were cussing and cursing Shiggy. May he die for doing this to you. The searing pain radiating from your center. You grit your scream. Feeling like you are being split in two. Pulling out a screeching squirming mass. Drained of all your energy, you slumped against the bed. A bed that is completely ruined, and you will burn it.
"Holy shit! We! Did! It! Blanket. Tie. We have to cut the umbilical cord," Tanaka laughed. A pale figure steps into the room and bites the cord. Tanaka swaddles the baby after checking his airway and wiping him off.
"Here you go, proud daddy," She says, handing Shin over to Shigaraki. He nuzzled the wriggling bundle that hissed at him viciously. Shigaraki smirks at his grub.
"I like title. Daddy. We keep title, elder Tanaka," he growled.
"You made it," you panted in relief. Shigaraki holds you and your grub with a sweet Trill. Quickly passing out. He used the rest of his energy to get here. He trusted these people would watch over him and his kin.
"Our Mommy. I love you," he purred.
"Both of you look like shit," Tanaka said bluntly as her eyes darted between you.
"I am never giving birth," La Brava whispers to Gentle.
Two years later…
"Mine!" Shin screeched repeatedly. Shin knew three words, and he screamed them all day. Waking up from your conversation with La Brava, there was the usual pain and the elation of good news, getting ruined as the screeching reached higher pitches.
"We can share, little brother," Eri says. You sit up in bed, about to shout how sharing is caring when you hear Shigaraki.
"Yes. It is important to care for your future mate, little Mommy," He rasped. You already feel the throbbing of a migraine.
"Shiggy!" You scream. Stomping into the living room. Groaning when your swollen feet howled at you to stop that. Panting in utter rage, you stand in front of him. He stared up and ate a cookie, "Family meeting!"
"Holy fuck. What did you do now?" Tanaka growled, putting on a nicotine patch. Shigaraki shrugged, giving Eri another cookie while Shin was distracted. He sniffed Tanaka and trilled she needed to add another patch. Dabi, Toga, and Spinner trickled in. These guys! You fed them once, and they never left. They did help La Brava and you, but still. You don't know why they are here, and you don't care. You get very cranky after projecting.
"First off. Shiggy, we discussed this. Telling Eri that Shin is her mate is grooming. I will not stand for it. No brainwashing. Eri, honey, you can grow up and be with whoever you want. Your Daddy has lost his damn mind. Clearly, he never wants big boy time ever again," You barked at him.
"What's big boy time?" Eri asked.
"It's fucking," Tanaka says before you can answer. You're mouth drops open as the other three giggled. Shin is babbling and drooling on a cookie.
"What's fucking?" Eri asked.
"It's when-" Tanaka started.
"Tanaka!"
"What? You said you didn't want her brainwashed. I'm giving her straight facts. Subject B is easily flustered with adult topics," Tanaka stated into her recorder to a chorus of laughter. This bitch, you think. The worst part is you know she is actually serious and will write this down in some fucked up paper or book.
"The three of us will do it together. Later. Not right now," You hissed at Tanaka. You rub your temples and plaster on a smile, "I have good news I want to share."
"You're pregnant," Shigaraki said.
"I am not!" You spat at him. But when your eyes connect with him, you see he is not lying.
"Ummmm… how? Haven't you been taking your monthly pill?" Tanaka asked you.
"Bad candy? I ate and replaced with better candy," Shigaraki says while bouncing Shin on his knee.
"We're having a baby!" Toga squealed.
"I'm not giving up my room," Dabi mumbled. You feel like you are going insane.
"Secondly. With over seventy percent of the human population and thirty percent of other mammals showing signs of quirks. Having a quirk is no longer illegal. You guys can wander freely, and our kids don't have to marry each other. No grooming necessary. We can even send Eri to public school with other kids her age. Eri, you can grow up and be whoever you want!" You delivered impatiently. There was a commotion as everyone talked at once.
"Even a criminal?" Dabi asked. The room falls silent to this. Your mind is now settling. You're pregnant and not about to live in hiding anymore. Why is Dabi shitting on this moment? You look to see if Shigaraki would intervene. He gives you the same cold stare.
"I will support my kid in whatever they want to do," you grit out.
"Ok then," Dabi said cheerfully. You were even swept up at the moment. Eri smiled and asked questions enthusiastically. You hugged Tanaka for the first time in two years. She had become paranoid that her quirk might hurt us.
"Tanaka. You can see real professionals and peers. You can be saved," you whispered to her. A strange look crossed her face as she twirled a tin in her robe.
"I can do long-distance research. I don't need to leave that often. The day-to-day stuff can be done in a lab here or over the internet. I can teach the grubs and be by your side forever," Tanaka grins sadly.
The only one who was not interested in the good news was Shigaraki, who gathered up Shin and took him to the nest to nap. He talked to his son in his hissing chittering language, staring at him with the same bright red eyes as Shin drank in his wisdom. It was unusual for one so young to have red eyes at birth. It was another worry.
"Females are fickle. Females are power. In the past, it could only be one male in the female's lives. I learned that you do not have to be the only male. The male that holds their attention is the one that ends up with all the power. Make Eri only look at you. Normally I would encourage you to imprint on your sister. But your mother will not stand for it. Focus on Eri," Shigaraki rasped. Tanaka stood in the doorway.
"Ewy mine," Shin yawned and chirped. His antenna flicks as he curls into Shigaraki's ruff.
"Yes, good boy. Eventually, she will take pity on you and start to love you little by little. Then she will belong to you. The females of this world are soft-hearted and do not understand our nature. They do not understand how our love destroys. We love so much that we kill and destroy to keep our claws dug in. Strangely, our hunger for love makes us want to devour our mate completely. I will suckle at your mother's love until she dies. Even then, she can't escape me. I will follow her," Shigaraki grinned.
"You want Master's power still?" She asked, twirling the tin in her pocket.
He lays Shin down in his nest. When Shigaraki first saw him, he had to stop his instincts from wanting to lay down all five fingers. You wanted to see and hold Shin before him. It drove him insane. He is better than his Father. You do not understand how far he would go for you. You don't know how far an imprint drives the men in his family. He was only allowed to live because Master wanted it and offered his Father compensation with more females. But his Father hated the attention he received from the females. He often beat him for it.
"Yes. We will need it. I am the king of forest. I need to stay king. War is coming. Where is Mommy?" He asked.
"She's talking to Eri about school supplies and clothes," She answered. Tanaka smelled nervous when she stepped forward. Lowering her voice and showing him the tin he took from Kai," We have these as a contingency. We don't need Eri." Shigaraki smiled drily at Elder.
"Do you want me to kill Shin? I will not let Mommy go. Do you want Mommy to be sad?" He asked. Tanaka paled and nodded.
"We'll call Eri's ability plan B," She mumbled as she left. Tanaka will not get in his way. She understands. Shin will imprint on Eri instead of you. That will keep Shin alive. If Shin imprinted on you or your new daughter, he would kill Shin in a heartbeat. He reaches into the nest, brushing his son's pudgy cheek with the back of two fingers, and feels something. Not strong as he has for you. It weakly pulses in him. He hopes it will grow stronger.
"Shiggy?"
He turns to see your sweet face twisted in concern for him, and his heart beats faster, his pulse rushing straight to his cheeks and cock. You reach, come over and wrap yourself around him. He twists around your little finger. You tug him back to the nest you now share, pulling him on top of you where he melts.
"What's wrong, baby?" Your doe eyes burning into his soul. He sighs, seeking comfort in your warm embrace before he answers.
"Nothing changes. Do not know about before. Was war. Master has shown me. It will be brutal. There will be blood and dust. War is always the same. New quirk war. Not safe for family. Still must hide," Shigaraki whispered.
"If you are worried about Eri going to school, I already have La Brava creating all of us fake IDs," you say. Snuggling his chest, planting little kisses.
"I no leave. Only new babies will have heteromorph traits. I stay. Mommy and grubs need to stay with me. Stay safe. Eri needs to stay safe. We keep here. Have the Elder teach," He rasped. You bite your lip in worry.
"Eri is a little girl with a lot of trauma. I will not leave you. Eri and the grubs will not go to school unless it's safe. But I feel we should enroll her for the sake of Eri's mental health. The moment we hear about war, we pull her out," you tried to reason with him. Shigaraki growls and you become flustered. In the years you've spent together, he has stopped being a sweet little boy and turned into an aggressive man. That intense, serious gaze makes you wet and flustered.
"Horn. She will be tested. Discovered." He parts your lips and dips his long tongue in your flavor. Becoming more aroused by your whimpers. You try to pull away from him, but he is not ready to continue this frustrating conversation. But somehow, you escaped him.
"Then let's hire her professional kid psychiatrist. Someone Tanaka chooses. Doctors are not allowed to share anything. Please?" You beg him sweetly. Your hand grips his thick hot cock, stroking him, slicking him with his own precum. It wasn't long before you were swept up in the heat of the moment. He knows your body so well. It's not long before you squirt on him, nails digging into his bunching muscles.
"Yes, Mommy. Yes, Mommy. We'll do what Mommy wants," Shigaraki panted. Sucking at your chest. He will never let you dry out. He sucks your milk down his throat while he fills you with his knot and cum.
"I'm so happy. Thank you. I love you. You are my good boy," You purr to him. He rubs clit with his thumb. Eyes hooded with reverence.
"This one will be a little girl. Let's name her Tsuyu. We made her during the plum rains," he rasped.
"That's perfect. I love you, my sweet Daddy."
He shudders. He loves how obedient you became with the new title. He wonders if he should have 'groomed' you sooner, and none of this would have happened. Your Aunt wouldn't let him, though. He got milk, whiskey, and rabbits if he swore to leave you alone. You are so silly. Never questioning why. Why didn't he kill you for being in his territory? Why were claw marks around your guest bedroom deeper and older than the others? Why were there no pictures of you in the house? Why did your Aunt stop inviting you over when your breasts started showing? Because he wanted you, and Aunt tried to curb his instincts while keeping you safe from him. He saw you first. Sneaking onto the farm to poach livestock. A beautiful female close to his age. Your Aunt caught him because he was stalking you in the shadows, lurking for days to capture you, his nest built for two. Had you come closer to the edge of the forest? Oh, what he would have done to your body would have been a crime. He left you alone because your Aunt convinced him to let you grow. She was right. Your Mommy training was needed. To mature and ripen. He needed the time as well to grow with you. He will do the same for Eri and Shin. When the time is right, he will kill the mind doctor and destroy any trace of the building or anyone else threatening his family. He and Elder Tanaka have already come to an agreement. They will keep you, his sweet dumb Mommy, happy for the rest of your life.
"Daddy. I'm thirsty," you mumbled. He smiled, and with a sharp chirp, he got up to get you water.
"I love you, Mommy." You will always be his. Mommy will always need him.
[Writers notes! I hope you were entertained. If you like it I wouldn't mind the love. Here it the first part of the Mommy series.]
#shiggy#moth shigaraki#mothura#mothman shigaraki#mothman#Mothuraki#insect#yandere shigaraki#shigaraki smut#boku no hero academia shigaraki#mha shigaraki#shigaraki x y/n#tomura shigaraki x reader#yandere monster#shigraki tomura#shigaraki x reader#yandere shigaraki tomura#yandere male#tomura shiragaki#shigaraki tomura#tomura shigaraki#boku no hero academia tomura
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★Mind Break☆
Cult Leader! Tenko Shigaraki x AFAB! Reader
You should’ve known better than to run from the devil.
WARNING: This work contains depictions of psychological, physical, and emotional torture. Cult ideologies/problematic religious themes will be present throughout this writing, and will include nonconsensual and dubiously consensual sexual content. Abuse, violence, murder, sadism, and blood used even in a sexual context will be present. This story is not a romance, and depicts unhealthy obsessions and mental illness caused by psychological breaks. I am not going to tag this work further. By reading this work, you are agreeing that you understand it will include morally conflicting content and sexually explicit material which can be considered extreme. Read at your own risk, and enjoy. ♡
It wasn’t always like this.
You shift, abhorring your inability to function properly anymore, trying to make your body comfortable despite the freezing temperature having numbed your muscles into lead.
The metal bed chained and hanging off the damp stone walls seemed to inject ice into the very marrow of your bones. Was there even a point to it?
You distractedly listen to the soft scurry and skitter of mice. That was the point of it.
Everything hurt.
Your eyes burned with unshed tears, face blotchy and swollen from the last round you’d given into.
It wasn’t like this before.
Sure, you’d occasionally slip up, and you’d get a swift smack on your ass for causing trouble. Where was that treatment now? It changed when he stepped up. When Father Shigaraki passed the torch to him, your life became a walking nightmare.
Your chest constricted, eyes shutting despite no light illuminating your surroundings as memories flooded. The throbbing in your skull becoming a fist pounding to get out.
When you’d finally gotten old enough, you’d left the compound. Ran away from everything you’d ever known and loved. Your instincts had screamed at you to get away. Tenko had become a man you could not withstand, because despite his treatment towards you, everyone loved him. They had hailed him as the next great leader and prophet, saying that he’d bring them to greatness and no one would’ve believed you. He was hope in the dark world for your community, and that was the sign which showed you that the only way to survive was to distance yourself as far as possible.
You stayed hidden for nearly five years… you truly thought for a moment you were free. You thought he’d forgotten. That your past would let bygones be bygones.
You were sorely mistaken.
You clenched your teeth as the loud sirens began, the noise so sharp and painful it made your head nearly break.
You could only weakly curl up, mind so foggy and disoriented you didn’t hear anything but a constant buzzing tone in your ears as the siren waned into silence again. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve slept. Food was brought but it was merely pushed through a hole at the bottom of your metal door. You got two meals a day, bread and a watery vegetable soup.
The sharp pounding on the door cuts through the tinnitus and has you scrambling off the bed, muscles screaming in protest as your skin splits under the jagged earth you’d thrown yourself onto. Tattered clothing not helping the painful friction as you dig your bare feet into the stone and pushed yourself against a wall.
You weren’t fully cognizant, but as the heavy lock turned, you whined as warm light crawled into your space, nearly blinding you despite the dullness.
“Poor thing…,” his voice was raspier than you remember, more gravely in depth as he chuckles, looking down at your pathetic form curled and shaking.
“How’re you doing my little lamb?” His humor isn’t disguised in the least, his glee at seeing you vulnerable and weak for him obvious as he grins.
He tracks your bloody hands weakly hugging yourself, your bottom lip trembling as you look up under your lashes with those teary eyes he adores so much.
Your small pink tongue dips out to lick your lips, his dark garnet eyes watching intently.
“M-m’cold…” your voice is tiny, hardly audible.
His boots thump loudly as he walks towards you, ignoring how you clearly tense up and attempt to mold yourself into the wall to get away from him. When he’s close enough to nearly touch your bare feet with his boots, he crouches down, resting his forearms on dark denim as he tilts his head with a soft expression.
“Tell me lamb, was it fun out there?” The light against his back blanketed his pale skin in warmth, “Did you have fun in the big wide world, running around, dirtying yourself like some common whore?” You flinch as his tone grows in severity. Blurry vision looking at a familiar yet not face.
He has a scar on his lip, one which hadn’t been there before, crossing straight down.
He was still a beautiful man, the scar even seeming to add a masculine charm to his otherwise somewhat pretty visage. Soft purple rings clung beneath his eyes though, making him look softer somehow. He looked like he’d slept about as much as you.
You stared too long.
You can’t react when his hand shoots out and curls around your neck, fingers and rings digging painfully into your flesh as he cuts off your oxygen cruelly. Your fingers grasp at his wrist and hand, futile in their attempt to pry his death grip off your throat as you slowly suffocate. The pinch and pull of the jewelry he wore was breaking the delicate skin and making it more slippery as blood flowed.
He’s rambling, but it sounds like you’re underwater and he’s above the surface, as if he’s speaking another language.
Tears pool down your cheeks, rivers running freely like your blood as your face begins to take on a sickly dark hue, veins bulging in your face and eyes popping wide from their sockets. A few blood vessels bursting in your left eye.
Just as your vision goes dark, he lets you go.
Your coughing fit which followed nothing glamorous or cute, sputtering and hacking as bile rose but nothing came out. Your throat burned like someone forced you to drink gasoline and swallow a lit match, dropping over to your side by his feet and clutching where he’d left bloody indents.
“Pfft, you haven’t changed at all… I’m glad honestly.”
His boot connects with your side, merciful in the amount of strength exerted but still painful in your weakened state. You sputtered, nearly choking again on your saliva as you tremble and struggle to draw in air.
“No one is going to save you lamb, no one even wants to. When you ran away, you died to everyone here, everyone but me,” you can smell the leather of his shoe as he lifts it and brings it to your head, pushing down until you literally croak. “You should be grateful I’m showing so much grace to you lamb, the others suggested I do much, much worse to rehabilitate you.” His voice is snide while your heart wars with his words. He’s lying, he had to be.
You could only cry though. Sniffling beneath his boot as he lifted it off you, eager to look at your face.
His smile is vile, you note as your tired eyes flick up. He looked nothing like the messenger angel Father Shigaraki had dubbed him before his passing. As your tears blurred his pretty image… he looked like a demon from hell. A beautiful monster.
You weren’t sure what he even wanted from you, what it was he truly craved, but you wanted the pain to end.
Your palms scraped against the damp gravely floor below, finding a somewhat good position to lean your weight on and push your body up, even as your blood created an imbalance due to the slickness. Tenko let you, watching as your head hung in defeat lowered even further, chin tucked to your chest as your knees slid up. When you got to a semi-kneeling position, one hand steadying you on the ground, the other… the other reaching out and gripping his pant leg.
Those red eyes widened a fraction, watching intently as you look up at him from your spot on the floor.
His heart rate increased, pounding in his chest as he drank you in, lips twitching as his teeth ached. He didn’t stop you from using him as an anchor and rising up enough to sink your other hand into his pants too.
You looked like a dog begging for a treat, and his cock throbbed in agreement.
You remembered the degrading title he used to force you to call him when you were younger.
“M-Master…” it was almost inaudible, your sweet lips struggling to even form words after the abuse he leveled your throat.
“Master please…” even as your tears continued to fall, face ruined and messy, he laughed. Deep and boisterous, he nearly doubled over as he bared his white teeth.
“Fuck haha! You—!, okay, alright, what do you want little lamb, hm?” Once he calmed down enough, adrenaline high as he stares down at you with a renewed sense of vigor, he spoke.
He leaned down a bit, cupping your jaw and smiling deeper when you cringe and flinch, but still don’t pull away.
“Go ahead, you got my attention now.” He says it almost benevolently, but his eyes were impatient.
It hurt to swallow, your mouth having gone dry as you parted your lips.
“I want to be forgiven… I’m sorry…”
He lifted one sparse brow up. “Yeah? You’re sorry?” You nod, jerky and short as your neck flames up in pain.
He straights, tapping a finger against his lip in a gesture of consideration.
“Okay little lamb,” he snickers, “I’m willing to forgive you and let you leave here, but you need to be cleaned first.” You perk up, eyes finding a hint of light as the prospect of relief is dangled in front of you.
“Yes, anything please,” you gasp, desperation bleeding into your voice.
That’s why it takes you by surprise when his hands drop and begin to calmly undo his leather belt. Fingers steady and sure as you blankly watch him unbutton his jeans, and shimmy them down enough for his fat leaking cock to spring free.
“Well then, we can start by cleaning this filthy mouth first.” His eyes are closed as he grins, pearly canines on display and distorted features resembling something inhuman.
“T-Tenko…?” His hand not holding his cock swiftly sinks into your hair, easily dragging your face closer so he can slap the hard rod against your soft cheek a few times, the smell of him warm and bitter, contrasted by the damp cool air around you. “That’s not what you call me, is it lamb?” He doesn’t sound angry, but when you look back up, he’s dropped his cock and raised his hand.
The blow is more sharp than it is brute force, your head held in place by his other hand to avoid you collapsing and hitting your head on the floor.
Your cry echoes weakly. Face inflamed as your jerked right back to his groin where he smashes your injured cheek against his dick, rubbing it in as he groans.
“You need to be retaught manners too it seems, but we’ll just stick with a simple cleaning today.”
He’s speaking as if discussing a mundane topic like the weather, scolding you like one might scold a child in school. His tip rubbing and spreading pre-cum and tears across your face as you calm down from the pain he assaulted you with.
“Open your mouth.” He’s not asking but you obey and part your lips.
He holds a lot of your weight up by your hair, watching in fascination as his swollen mushroom tip rests against your bottom lip. His engorged meat rod looks insidious against your face pretty, thick veins protruding from the angry red of the skin, long and thick but tapering towards the tip a little where it curves up. He lets his hips tip, the tip entering your warm wet cavern, lips opening wider as he sinks about a quarter inside.
Your face scrunches, likely due to the sensation and taste of him, little tongue moving languidly against the underside of his shaft. He curses, bucking his hips a little more and arm exerting force when you attempt to pull back.
You whine around him, hands trying to push his hips back but too weak to prevent him from sliding out and doing it again.
“That’s it lamb, I’m just cleaning your mouth, relax~” he chuckles, Tenko’s grip in your hair tightening painfully as he begins testing your limits with depth and speed.
“I wouldn’t have to do this if, fuck, you just stayed home where you belong like a good girl,” he moans, your teeth accidentally grazing his cock but it seems to spur him on rather than flinch in pain.
“Shit, that’s it, go ahead and bite if you feel like dealing with a concussion, I’ll break your skull on this floor happily.” He’s sneering down at you, loving the fear which enters your gaze as you now struggle to open wider and avoid such a fate. It only helps him work his cock deeper, into your throat where you almost scream due to the blinding pain.
His earlier damage still too fresh as he loses it moaning, your slobber and blood now coating his cock and bringing delicious friction as he lets his tip tease your raw throat. His balls tap against the under side of your chin, his white pubic hair nearly tickling inside your nose as he tries to fit all of himself inside your mouth.
The noises you made would make any normal person stop. The painful howls muffled by his cock and stuffed back down your throat, his speed increasing as his balls drew tight.
“Have to keep you clean inside and out lamb, so you’re going to take every drop—,” his teeth are grit, grinding together as his orgasm washes over him, hot ropes of cum gagging and suffocating you again as he lets his cock rest inside your throat while he finishes. You don’t feel the cum, only him twitch as he empties his load into your belly.
Your eyes stare blankly at nothing. Dark spots dotting your vision even when he pulls out and pushes you off him.
You land on your side, wheezing and clutching your throat again as you blink away the darkness threatening to consume you, your adrenaline keeping you awake as Tenko crouches down beside you again.
He’d redressed, looking unfazed with a healthy pink hue to his cheeks now.
“C-can I leave now…?” Your voice doesn’t even sound like your own now. Each syllable grating on your damaged flesh.
“Why the fuck would I let you leave?” His words nearly stop your heart. Icy dread replacing the burning.
“Y-you said…” your eyes leaked, face showing your absolute shock and disbelief.
He laughed, standing up again, shoving his hands in his pockets as he smiled down at you.
“I lied.”
His lips tug higher as he leaves, locking you away again even as your wail echoes woefully throughout his hideout.
Invisible needles stabbed up your knees, waking you up more than the blaring white light.
You wanted out, away from this migraine inducing brightness, but all you could do was pray.
As a child, you’d preferred to sleep or pass notes around rather than be immersed in devotional. You wished you paid more attention, because only God could save you from this hell.
You flinched, startling yourself as shadows stretched and danced around the walls, despite the fluorescents preventing such things from being cast.
Your arms wrap around yourself, kneeling and hunched over as the visions continued even when you closed your eyes. Faceless dark creatures trying to pry into your mind as you scream, the noise bouncing back and slamming into your sensitive eardrums, breaking you from the moment.
They were gone, your weary eyes tracked, licking your dry chapped lips and imagining how nice it would be to have some sort of lip balm or lotion.
Your head bowed again, lips running through carefully memorized prayers as events from your past unfurl like a blooming rose. Each petal a fractured piece you try to suppress and fail, the voice of your therapist so distant now since you’ve been home.
Deep breathes led to panic attacks and unconsciousness, the faces of family and friends skewed into wicked distortions you struggled to differentiate between dream and reality.
Tenko remained vivid in your memories though. You grimaced, as it was likely due to the pain he inflicted in your youth, which seared into your subconscious as a warning for any future interactions. Humans rarely touch a hot stove twice.
You shake and tremble as time drags on, murmuring scripture from memory as best you can to ask for grace, pleading for your safe release.
Tiny patters catch your attention, eyes blinking open and staring at a small mouse. Soft tuffs of light brown fur, the little creature might’ve invoked disgust and fear before your capture, but now only bland curiosity filled you.
It scurried around for a while, sniffing at the metal tray left by a thin hole on the bottom of the door, looking for crumbs it would not find.
It was… abhorrently cute.
You returned to prayer, until your evening meal arrived and was silently exchanged, your eyes catching not even a glimpse of skin.
You shuffled awkwardly before the tray, decorum gone as you eat with need for survival instead of enjoyment, eyes steely and swirling almost violently as a tiny squeak draws your attention down.
The mouse. Tiny pinpoint dark eyes and a little pink twitching nose face you.
You should kill it. It likely had diseases or something else, it’s better of dead but…
Something inside prevents you, and instead you drop a few crumbs of bread.
It was all you could spare. The little creature isn’t wasteful though, eating with gusto unlike you as you watch in mild amusement.
“If you like the food so much, we should switch places,” you whisper jokingly, the mouse ignoring you in favor of licking and sniffing out even the most minuscule piece of food left.
You finish your meal too, however unsatisfying and unfulfilling.
Your eyes close shut even though the light disallows you any proper rest, mind shutting off like a device to power down.
Your hazy brain reboots at the sound of footsteps some time later, obnoxious compared to the ones belonging to the one in charge of food delivery.
Tenko, your brain unhelpfully supplies. You don’t want to see him. You want nothing to do with him or this compound anymore, but your body was beginning to associate him with more than just pain.
He was warm, physically speaking at least, and the skin on skin contact left you reeling with comfort you didn’t want to receive from him. He’s a lunatic and a psychopath, and you loathe him like none other, but the terror of him is equal to the hatred.
Your new friend abandons you as the locks turn, your eyes trailing up from the ground to watch as the door slowly swings open, revealing the man who haunts even your dreams.
“Hello little lamb, did you miss me?”
Each wobbly step felt like treading over broken glass.
You could hardly stand, legs truly unused to the feeling as you’d given up your mad pacing in favor of protecting the damaged soles of your feet.
Not anymore though, as the hand tangled in your locks jerked you onward, using your hair almost like a lead as you stare at the filthy floor you traverse on, destination left an anxiety filled mystery.
“Come on little lamb~ we’re nearly there,” his soft cooing voice makes your insides revolt, twisting and causing you to stumble.
At least he’s there to make sure your face doesn’t hit the hard surface of the ground, oddly powerful in his lean physique as he simply holds up your weight and pulls you along side him.
He’s merry and cheerful, whistling occasionally as he strolls as if through a friendly neighborhood park and not some type of underground dungeon only found in medieval theatrics.
Your eyes trail back at the light smattering of your blood on the floor, wearily looking as far ahead as you could in this half crouched position.
It was dimmer out here than your cell. The blaring alarms replaced by white hot light that seared your mind awake and deprived you of sleep further.
Out here the shadows danced. Your eyes fearfully taking in the monsters beginning to crawl off the walls and towards you, just out of reach though, as if Tenko was holding them back.
That scared you even more.
A new room came up just at the end of the hall, a shorter distance than you’d felt it was.
He hauled you forward and threw you inside before dim lights illuminated the space from an antique switch on the wall.
There was only a chandelier in here, you noted before the breath left your lungs on impact with the ground, side blaring up in pain as you lay still.
Your eyes widen, pupils dilating as strange staticky figures moved about the space, the room swirling like a whirlpool of colors before you were yanked up and out of the fever dream.
Tenko was humming some sort of hymn, his deep timber almost soothing despite his violent manner of dragging you towards a small in-ground pool.
A baptism pool, with steps leading into the shallow water with a metal railing for assistance, likely for the elderly.
Your vision seemed to jump back and forth between the water being a dark blue and bloody red, unintentionally jerking in Tenko’s hold.
He seems to misinterpret it, “It’s okay lamb, I’ll be baptizing you tonight, washing the sins of the outside world which tainted you away.” You want to bark at his delusional little speech, to roll your eyes or do something, but you’re silent like a doll in his hold. Weak. Pathetic. Worthless. Powerless.
He lets you drop, in favor of scooping you up bridal style in his arms, your filthy sorry figure truly in need of a bath you’ve been denied thus far.
He’s not the least bit repulsed, seeming even thrilled to hold you close as he smiles his pearly white canines at you.
“Look at you, being so good for me. I almost want to reward you,” he chuckles, face calm and even as he takes you both fully clothed into the shockingly cold water.
He doesn’t even flinch.
You’re unable to do much else but gasp, curling into Tenko’s warm chest as chills immediately wrack your body.
Once he’s about waist deep, he extends his arms and lets your feet sink down, one hand spread between your shoulder blades and keeping you up.
Those red hued eyes truly seemed to manifest evil, the dim lighting not dampening the color’s vibrance. He looks like a malevolent angel.
“Are you ready? You’ll need to hold your breath for just a little while I recite the passage.”
Something inside is trying to worm itself out past your lips, begging you to speak up, move away, not trust him.
You can’t seem to remember exactly why as you nod numbly.
Until his free hand raises up, pressed against your chest just under your collarbone and caging your upper body between his hands.
His smile is almost serene.
Then you’re submerged, just barely enough time to hold your breath while the chilling liquid around you wakes you.
Your eyes blink open despite the chlorine burning them, seeing him through a strange mirage now, lips moving and canted up.
Your chest starts to hurt after ten seconds. Then it’s a somewhat urgent need after twenty.
At thirty your instincts take hold and you struggle, air being pushed out meanly by his hand as he applies pressure to still you.
It’s impossible though, you need to breathe. You need it with urgency as your feet kick out, arms coming up to fight and remove his grip, but he just keeps you under. The adrenaline wins though, finally pushing him roughly so you can come up for greedy gulps of air, choking and sputtering while the rooms spins and nausea grips you.
“You didn’t even last a minute lamb,” he remarks offhandedly, and your near drowning reminds you why he is to be feared like death itself because his next move is to grip your throat, the other tangling back in your hair while he smiles down at you, face cinching unnaturally tight as he leans over your panting trembling figure.
“How about this? If you can last a minute, we’ll stop.”
Liar, your heart and mind roar with passion, but your survival instincts demand you do so because it meant life or death.
He doesn’t prepare you this time, sinking you under while his laugh filters through the water into a muddled tune as you fail to even last thirty seconds this time, clawing and biting like a wounded animal as your vision begins to go dark and lungs threaten to shut down.
He yanks you back up, just enough time to gather in air before you’re plunged again, vision beginning to fade as those horrid shadow creatures emerge, almost playfully as you dance around suffocation.
Your mind is playing tricks, these devils aren’t real, not when the one above you is flesh and bone attempting to end your miserable existence.
You’re dragged to the surface again, fighting for freedom from the death grip which holds you in the water as you lash out, a war cry almost deafening to your own sensitive ears.
It’s impossible to tell how long it goes on, your will for survival being challenged by a soul deep exhaustion, finger nails soaked in blood from scratching at his arms and even his bared skin around his throat and chest.
He’s content to watch the inevitable. The moment when your mind releases the concoction of chemicals to ease your death peacefully, because it could fight no longer as he repeatedly drowns you.
His eyes gleam with wicked joy, pupils enlarged as he pushes you beneath the water again, you’re thrashing so much more futile despite how you still struggled. You still wanted to live.
It’s inevitable though, when your vision goes dark, creeping in at the edges and swallowing your sight hole as a painless numbness washes over you.
You begin to hear again first. Strange warbled noises and hissing. Your foggy mind is content to drift, light as you feel rested and freed from the confines of agony which plagued you like a disease so long.
It sounds pained, the noises, the strange squelching and smacking not connecting as you languidly listen and try to decipher what was occurring around you.
Your vision returns next. Slowly, as if not to frighten you, your eyes begin to take in more and more light. Faded blurry shapes and colors becoming clarified into a full picture you could actually make out.
You were on the ground, this floor tiled like you’d see around a public pool. Face resting down as you looked at a familiar baptism pool which began filling your mind with dread.
The water was rippling, your eyes noting that the room was rocking.
Feeling came back last. You felt the chilly air slowly prick at your wet skin and hair, teeth sensitive as you felt your body rock, pressure and numbness beginning to fade into true feeling. Your hand was out stretched and dipped into the water, as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully pull you out, the cool liquid somewhat refreshing as your skin felt hot and feverish.
A blooming white hot pain in your rear caught your full attention though, body too weak to even manage words as you lay limp on the ground, realization dawning as full frontal clarity strikes you like a branding iron.
“Awake?” He muses, hand moving to press your face back down when you attempted to lift your head, not bothering to lessen his crushing weight as you choke and heave. Your eyes can only widen further, looking up at the mirrors which acted as a backdrop to the the pool to see your body and not recognize it. Not recognize you. As if this was all happening to another as he grunts, the hot iron rod which continued its path inside your taunt previously unused sphincter as you groan low in your throat like a wounded animal. Your own native language foreign in your mind as it goes blank to only focus on the mirrors.
His pretty face screwed up in pleasure, his tongue nearly hanging out his mouth as he pants and works his hips against you, more of a struggle to fully sheath himself inside your bleeding rectum due to the lack of preparation he’d done. The stretched ring of muscle inflamed as he lets a drop of spit hit just above it and slide around his cock as he grips your hips.
“You have such a tight little ass—fuck—,” his head drops, hair falling into his face as he watches you take him, pulling out occasionally to see how wide he’s left your abused asshole.
“—p-please—,” you brokenly whimper the words, still unable to fathom why this all was happening. What did you do?
It didn’t matter, not when his thrusts were getting rougher, thick cock spearing you and nearly tearing you open as he grunts and moans above you.
“Keep begging lamb, I want to hear it,” he chuckles, and your vision becomes blurred with tears you can’t even wipe away. Too tired and hurt. You wanted to sleep again.
He doesn’t like your unresponsiveness though, bucking hard and digging his knees into the ground to scoot you up.
You shriek as he pushes your torso back into the water, hand tangled in your hair as he cackles now, deranged expression lighting up at the break in your stoic facade.
“I-I’m sorry—!” Your voice is broken and raspy as you cry out, hands trying to keep him from pushing your head back into the water as his cock begins slamming inside you aggressively.
Blood, spit, and his earlier load he’d jerked and shot over your unconscious figure frothed at the base of his cock as he sinks inside you.
“Start begging lamb!” He moans as you tighten in fear and panic, senseless babbling too quick and jumbled for him to truly appreciate.
“Tsk, that’s not how you beg—fucking idiot,” he sighs, ruthless as he shoves you beneath the water again. Enjoying your futile struggle as your hips jerk and work his cock with delicious friction inside your rigid hot walls.
“Fuck yes, tighten your ass slut, that’s it!” He’s close just from watching you struggle.
Your eyes are open, staring at the bottom of the pool as he abuses your hole above the surface, oxygen deprived and delirious until he yanks your head up.
He moans loudly when you cough and sputter water out, the suction of your walls driving him wild as his thrusts become more jerky and uneven.
“O-oh God please—!” You can only sob for mercy, praying to be saved from the purgatory that is Tenko Shigaraki.
“Yes—! Pray to me baby, because I. Am. Your. Fucking. God.” He growls and punctuates each word with a merciless thrust, pushing you under one last time as he grinds his groin against your soft rear and pumps his load deep inside.
Bleary eyes blink open to dim lighting, seeing a familiar cell from the position of the metal bed.
Your head ached like it might split open any second, but your soul felt the most damaged.
You could only whimper and whine as you sat your stiffened body up, muscles screaming in protest as you stood before collapsing to the ground below.
It was a miserable reality as you dragged yourself over to the little toilet in the corner, attempting to relieve yourself but only finding the water saturated with murky red and clots.
The little sink difficult to use as a wash station, as you cup the icy water, for once grateful for it, and let it wash down your battered form.
It took what seemed like forever to clean away the evidence of him, but as you looked around, you realized blandly there were no clothes for you anymore.
What you’d worn to the… baptism, had been stripped in your unconscious state. He didn’t seem to feel like returning the tattered rags.
You crossed the room, laying beneath the metal bed now, content with just sitting with the low hum of aches inside and out of you. Curled on your side, you sit and watch the door in the dim orange glow of the lights.
They turned off the white fluorescents, which meant the noise would come soon.
It did, not long after that thought, the wailing siren began as you numbly looked ahead, no longer flinching at the noise.
Hours seemed to pass before your food arrived, which you crawled towards, content with eating on your stomach as you rested.
It was the familiar squeak which granted your friend the favor of seeing your face.
Your little mouse came just on time for… whatever meal this was. You hardly paid mind to it, throwing a few generous crumbs for your mouse like a gracious host.
“You should feel honored mouse, this is the finest bread they serve here.” Your giggle is slurred as you bite into the stale bread, mouth dry and the baked good only acting as sandpaper.
You finished it all though. Your mouse not one to be beat either, leaving no trace of the crumbs you’d left for it.
You smiled, content to watch it skitter about, before it curiously moved closer to you.
Then a little closer.
Then it was sniffing your finger, flinching back at first when you lift it, but coming back anyway as you softly pat its tiny head with the tip of your pointer.
“Am I all you got down here…?” You imagine those beady little eyes filled with intelligence and understanding.
“That’s okay. We can stick together.” It’s whispered like a sworn secret.
You let your eyes fall closed, trusting mouse not to attempt to nibble on you while you slept.
You awoke with a jolt, heart beating wildly in your chest as shadows rampaged around the room, the sound of the siren wailing as you try and scramble away from the chaos.
They were everywhere, trying to grab you, actually grabbing you, your scream of fright falling on empty halls as you struggle with your sanity.
Your legs kick out, arms thrashing as you attempt to fight off these morphing demons, hazy mind fighting for some sense of reason despite the madness.
A clawed hand reached at you from below, your palm instinctively coming down to smack it away in your panic.
The siren ends, and with it, the shadows seem to disperse as you pant and try to catch your breath, dizziness and fatigue weighing on you as your fingers rub together and feel something… stinky.
Your heart stops. The world seems to as well.
“Mouse…?”
It’s not real. Yet the little brown clump of fur and dark blood and guts could only be the dead body of your tiny friend.
“Mouse— I-I didn’t mean it— wait, why?!” Your shriek echoes, blood on your hand streaking your cheek now as you wail in anguish, careful to lift up the mangled corpse you’d crushed.
You did this. You hurt it. It was your fault.
It felt like you were being shattered. Screaming until you couldn’t anymore, coughing up blood from your raw and abused throat, clinging to your cooling friend as time became irrelevant.
Food came and went. You didn’t touch it. You didn’t know how many trays were given and taken away without a single piece touched, but it finally summoned him.
Heavy boots were your first clue, eyes still following shadows of little mice dancing around you.
The door opening changed the direction of your gaze as Tenko stepped inside, face impassive this time as he looks at you.
His presence invokes the tears which bubble and spill down your cheeks, quick to crawl on your knees to him like he was your last salvation.
“Please—,” your lower lip wobbled as your scratchy small voice broke the silence. “She’s hurt… I hurt her… please…” and he watched.
Watched the lovely little angel he adored lose her wings and fall to the depths of hell where he ruled.
“Shh… it’s okay, I’m here. Let me see,” he crouches down, smile soft and soothing to your frayed nerves, one hand moving to tuck a matted and tangled chunk of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t seem the least bit repulsed by the decomposing mouse corpse you held. Eyes focused and attentive on you, as you cried and confessed the sin of murder to him.
Like he was your God.
He wrapped you up in his arms, carrying you out as you sobbed weakly for mercy and forgiveness… for the little mouse and for your crime of harming it.
Your face buried in his neck, breathing in the scent of bleach and chemicals like it was fresh air.
You were curled up in a ball, rocking yourself comfortingly as you trembled in fear before hallucinations so real you weren’t able to differentiate anymore. Shadow monsters haunting you at every second except when he was around, trying to crawl into your mind and destroy you completely.
Your hands ran through your hair, clean now as Master had been returning nearly everyday to bathe you with him.
He should be back soon.
You glance at the bed and clean living space, somehow so foreign and alien that you feel terrified of even laying on it without him.
You hum a familiar hymn, counting the seconds until these demons are cast out in his presence.
Your soft skin is naked and bare, but the room is warm despite phantom goosebumps raising.
The door opens, boots muted on the fluffy carpet, strolling towards you with ease and grace as you unfurl and crawl towards him.
“Little lamb, did you miss me?” His cherry red eyes sparkling with amusement and mischief, glossy white hair swept back save a few strays which framed his face.
Your smile is genuine as you nod, “Welcome back Master.”
He watches you with immense satisfaction, your skin and hair healthier now that you’ve been rehabilitated and given proper nutrition and care.
You sit perfectly still, nude body on display for thousands of eyes. The solemn atmosphere disallows for embarrassment as Master speaks, voice carrying his message and voice of God for the people.
“With this sacrifice, let our sins be washed in blood!” his arms spread wide, the cheer of the church deafening yet you move not a single muscle.
You don’t watch, even as the muffled screams become gurgled sounds of drowning.
The sacrifice had to be a damned sinner, one Master deemed better off sent to Heaven early. Dying for the church like this meant even though they were unclean, they could still find salvation through their death. It wasn’t anything new, even as a child you’d witnessed such things.
You cease useless thoughts, eyes trained on him.
He caught your gaze, eyes crinkling as he grins before winking.
They smear the freshly spilled blood over you, hooded masked members wordlessly carrying out the ritual.
“Now the blood of a virgin needs to be spilled…” he murmurs for heads to bow, prayer beginning but you don’t close your eyes, staring out blankly as iron burns your nostrils.
Your skin painted with the blood of a sinner, laid dead on another alter, which you let yourself skip from staring at.
The prayer finishes as Master rises, turning his attention on you as he walks your way. His clothing is all white, current appearance similar to a saint as he approaches.
“Little lamb,” he smoothes a hand through your soft hair with affection, bright red eyes nearly glowing as he leans close, undeterred by the blood coating your cheeks, lips, forehead, and major portions of your body. “Are you ready to be slaughtered?”
A chant in the crowd begins. Hummed at first, building in volume, the words ominous. “Lamb for slaughter.”
You briefly wonder if you’re next, just like the man they’d gutted next to you.
You nod anyway. It hardly mattered whatever he chose to do with you.
Your eyes still widened in surprise as he pushed you gently to lay back on the alter, as he climbed up as well before his people watching with heated gazes.
Master grins, looking sinister and beautiful as he licks his lips and addresses the masses.
“I shall now make the virgin bleed,” you don’t question him as he easily spreads your thighs open, leaving your slit on full view for the crowd and his own eyes.
“Be good for me lamb, I know you can do it,” these words are hushed and spoken just for you, as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. The action is soothing, and you allow your muscles to relax as you watch the crowd with a mixture of emotion.
Were they real or shadows?
You jolt as you feel something hot and wet prod your vaginal entrance, looking down to see Master had freed his heavy thick cock, erect and leaking from the dark red tip as he pumps it with his free hand a few times.
Then he lets the soft warm tip slip through your folds, parting them to press.
It takes immense force that leaves your chest heaving for air as your finger nails chip and break on the marble alter, body wracked with the intense desire to cringe and pull away.
You stay still, as he grunts pushing into your dry walls, essentially digging his cock inside your cunt to burrow deep.
You’re hardly breathing anymore, face frozen in agony as he stuffed you with each searing inch as you grit your teeth and endured.
The chanting was muted by the muddled noise in your head, like water in your ears, as tears slid down your cheeks.
He pulls out completely once his tip kisses your cervix. His cock coated in a sheen of your blood, though whether it was actually your hymen or the tearing of your vaginal walls was not important. It was the symbolism.
He lets his people take in the sight of you both, feeling pride swell inside him as they grow wild with excitement, moving to close in around you both now. The elders stayed back, their robes and masks in place as they continued the chant while the younger and common members touched and groped your trembling body, smearing the blood and even moving it down to your slit where you jerked a little.
“Be gentle with my lamb, tonight, I make her my wife on this auspicious occasion.” His teeth are sharp and glaring as he smiles, your eyes watching as if behind a screen.
What day was it? You wondered oddly, curious why you couldn’t recall it at all.
Master begins disrobing, shamelessly revealing each inch of his lean muscular build for all eyes as he falls on you again, this time caging your view in to only see him.
Your eyes connect, his alight with joy. “Keep your eyes on me while I fuck you stupid tonight.” He whispers in your ear, too low for anyone else to pick up on, using the position to lick the shell of it as you moan at the strange sensation.
He uses one arm to stay propped above you, letting the other move towards the hooded hard nub just above your slit, pressing softly and rubbing circles as electric shocks of pleasure zap up your spine. Your toes cramp as you try to straighten, but his hips smashing against you ass he sinks into you again stop your movements.
Your eyes widen in shock.
It doesn’t hurt at all.
It’s strange, the fullness still heavy and different, but the sting and ache are gone as he uses the blood of that scapegoat as lube to fuck your pretty cunt.
Tenko laughs as your eyes glaze over, face already showing the euphoria as he works your clit and his cock slowly into you, taking his time this round without the necessity of injuring you.
His gaze even gentle as he almost lovingly fucks you, the terrified expression on your face amusing at the very least for him.
“Relax lamb, we got the pain out of the way, just keep your legs spread for me and I’ll do all the work.” He assures, and like always, you fall for it.
He works you both to climax quickly, chuckling as you clamp and seize around his cock helplessly.
Your hands gripping at his shoulders as he leans down to kiss you, slipping his tongue in your mouth for a filthy kiss that leaves you light headed and pliant as he hardens again inside you.
You glance down wearily, his hips grinding back into you as his finger works your clit again.
“Let’s feel so good we both want to die.” Those red eyes seal your fate.
“Tenko! Stop breaking your toys, I’m not gonna share mine if you do.” Small childish and chubby hands grip at his own, tugging the toy owned by you from his grasp as he eyes you with disdain not matching a child his age.
“I have to break them.” He rolls his eyes, picking up the disfigured doll he’d “fixed” given to him by his previous family. The ones before his Master Father Shigaraki took him in.
“Why? That’s stupid.” You retort, obnoxious as you try to hide your dolls as if he even wanted them.
“Because if I don’t break it, then how is it even really mine?”
Post dividers/@cafekitsune
A/N:
I hope you enjoyed this piece! It was very self indulgent if I’m being honest~
#dark shiggy material#tw: noncon#tw: violence#tw: dark content#tw: cult#Tenko bnha#mha Tenko#Tenko Shigaraki#quirkless AU#Cult Leader Tenko#Cult Leader Shigaraki#Shigaraki Tomura x reader#Tenko Shimura x reader#Yandere Shigaraki Tomura#yandere tenko shimura#yandere shigaraki tomura smut#yandere shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura smut#mha tomura smut#bnha tomura smut#dark tomura shigaraki#bnha smut#mha smut
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beloved feline — request, you have a cat at home.
requested by @thatgirlgames
Midoriya Izuku
He knew about it beforehand, obviously. Izuku made sure he knew about everything, including the little black cat you cared for at home. Long before he set his plan into action to kidnap you he had made sure to cat proof his apartment and buy the exact same bed, toys and food for your little feline. Maybe if he took you both you'd feel more comfortable and less threatened by the situation.
Katsuki Bakugo
He hated the damn thing. At first he couldn’t care less, leaving it to hiss at him in your own apartment while he dragged your unconscious state back to his. But your whining was starting to annoy him more than the cat would, and since he would never lift a single finger to actually hurt you, he might as well get the cat as leverage to keep you in your place. He can always get you a new one if the other gets into an unfortunate.. accident.
Shigaraki Tomura
Absolutely not. Tomura might be sitting at his table and playing games most of the time, but your attention should be solely focused on him. He’s extremely jealous ; clingy when he’s in the mood and would, without a doubt, get rid of your cat completely before he’d ever think about getting it for you. Maybe a stuffed plushie if you beg him nicely enough, but that's about it.
#yandere mha#yandere bnha#yandere katsuki bakugou#yandere midoriya izuku#yandere shigaraki tomura#yandere bnha reactions#yandere mha reactions#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere#yandere x reader#request
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