#Yandere shigaraki x reader

[yanderenightmare]

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

[disaster-writer]

Tear You Apart

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Summary: Someone in the League of Villains has been drugging you and doing things to you, and you were going to find out who

Word Count: 6.5k

Rating: X 18+

Warnings: Dark fic, smut, noncon, dubcon, masochism, sadism, drugging, mentions of exhibitionism/vouyerism

Minors DNI

There was a cockroach on your bedroom floor.

Your bedroom that was technically a small storage room with only a small futon and a lamp.

It was staring at you.

So you stared back, as your tired eyes tried to adjust to the blurry cockroach that sat no more than five inches from your face as you lay in bed.

You felt like you were hit by a truck.

The cockroach glowed in the sunlight that filtered into the room… you were lucky enough to end up with a window at least. Even if the moonlight never did reach far enough into the far corner of the room, leaving your imagination to run rampant in the middle of the night as to what lay within those shadows.

Though, you don’t think your imagination held a light to your reality now.

The room was spinning, you had to keep adjusting your eyes to the disgusting insect in front of you.

You pulled your bedsheet back ever so slightly, your arm broke through the cocoon of blankets you had wrapped yourself in. Slowly you reached your arm out, pointer finger outstretched, and neared the bug. 

You touched it.

Almost immediately the fucking thing scurried, flipped, and chirped over and over again, running rampant all over the floor. Until after what would be an angonizingly long two minutes for the insect, it died.

Each organ shut down one by one, its little body physically unable to function with the amount of pain a single stroke of your finger caused it.

You pulled your arm back into your cocoon and you stared at the dead cockroach.

You don’t remember taking off your gloves last night. That went for the hoodie you always wore to bed… that went for your pants… that went for your underwear.

You also don’t remember drinking anything last night.

But you were hungover.

Your head wouldn’t stop spinning, you felt like you were going to throw up, and everything just fucking hurt. But the general soreness from the hangover didn’t overshadow the burning, throbbing pain that came from between your legs.

Which meant it had happened again.

You felt your eyes watering, burning tears stinging at your tear ducts.

The first time you tried to chalk it up to falling into bad habits again.

Getting black out drunk was no stranger to you. It had always been easier to turn to the bottle than learn how to control your quirk. It dulled your senses, lessened the harm you could inflict, made you forget what it was to be an outcast of society.

It was safer for everyone that way.

But ever since the broker found you, selling you sweet visions of the future. A future you could help fight for by teaming up with the League of Villains. You had fallen hook, line, and sinker. You quit your vices.

But even if you had decided to drink the night away, that didn’t explain the blood and what you could only assume was dried cum that caked the inside of your thighs.

It was even on your face and in your hair.

That’s what had sent you reeling.

No man, woman, animal, or insect could touch you without immediately doubling over to writhe in pain.

So who the fuck managed to put their cock in you.

You had been so caught up in the how that you never stopped to think about the who until now.

You didn’t want to think of the only logical explanation.

One of your comrades was drugging you and raping you in the middle of the night and now that it’s happened twice, there’s no denying it. No more denying what was clearly in front of you no matter how fucking insane or impossible it should have been.

A choked sob clawed at your dry throat.

Joining this ragtag team of villains was the only thing that ever gave you a sense of purpose in your waste of a life. 

You had nothing.

A father that blamed you for your mother’s death. Telling you that all the unending pain you caused her was the reason she put that gun in her mouth. Out on the streets by fifteen, left to mug people with your quirk just to get by. Getting caught by heroes left and right left you with a criminal record. Alcohol had been your only sense of comfort.

You couldn’t leave the League. You can’t go back to that life.

You don’t know how long you laid in bed covered in those dried fluids and waiting for the world to stop spinning, all you knew was that the sun was setting by the time you forced yourself up and your bladder was fucking killing you.

You extracted your naked body from your cocoon, side stepping the dead roach to gather your clothes from last night that were scattered everywhere.

You pulled your thick black hoodie over your head and your black sweatpants up, hiding the blood and cum so that you could properly take care of it in the bathroom. 

You put your gloves on and pulled your hood up and left the room.

~

“She’s alive! No she isn’t!” Was the first thing that greeted you when you had left the bathroom.

”Hey Twice,” you mumbled, trudging past him and to the bar. You sat down.

Sitting hurt.

You barely looked around the room. You didn’t have to see to know that the entirety of the League was hanging out in that bar. These days it seemed you all were just sitting on your asses and twiddling your thumbs, waiting for the opportunity to make a move.

”Would you like a drink?”

You looked up tiredly to Kurogiri who stood behind the bar and shook your head, the amount of sugar in the mocktail you had Kurogiri make for you sometimes would probably make your pounding headache worse, “Water’s fine.”

You folded your arms on the bar counter and buried your face into them.

You didn’t want to be here with any of them right now but going back to your bedroom with those disgusting stains all over your futon also made you sick.

Either way you were trapped.

You didn’t mind the idle chatter from the others though. You could hear Mr. Compress and Spinner talking behind you in the booth. Twice was on the floor with Toga and from the sounds of it was playing around with his quirk and random items from the bar. Kurogiri talked to Shigaraki to your right of the counter and to your left was a normally brooding Dabi.

One of them had raped you.

You heard a ‘clink’ next to your folded arms, and found Kurogiri placing your water in front of you.

”Thanks,” you mumbled, grasping and raising the glass to your dry lips.

You gulped down the water quickly, draining the glass. You were so, extremely dehydrated.

Placing your glass down you looked to the side, only to find Shigaraki staring at you from behind ‘Father’s’ hand.

Shigaraki always fucking stared.

’The fucking virgin just wants to fuck you. Probably wants to see how long he’d last before you make his dick fall off’

That’s what Dabi had told you after watching you shift uncomfortably in your seat under his unwavering gaze your first night there.

You couldn’t deny he was suspect number 1 on your list.

You pulled the drawstrings of your hood, putting your head back down.

”Where were you this morning. We had a meeting.” 

Fuck— now he was talking to you.

”I had a rough morning,” is what you replied with, words muffled by the fabric of your hoodie.

Your heart beat picked up, beginning to hammer in your ribcage as you heard him stand up.

He was moving closer, sitting himself in the seat next to yours.

He had said nothing for a few long beats and the uncomfortable proximity of his body to yours made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

”Someone was in your room last night.”  

It felt like the air was knocked out of you. 

You slowly peered up at him through your hood, finding Shigaraki watching in sick satisfaction as if he just caught you red handed.

The accusation hung heavily in the air as you tried to find the words. Was he self admitting? Or did he see something? Did he know who it was?

But he continued before you could respond.

”You told us no one could touch you without your quirk activating but you’re fucking all night and missing meetings in the morning. You lied to us.”

“No—“ you blurted, perhaps slightly too loud. You leaned in closer, “I—I don’t— it’s not my fault,” you panicked, “I don’t know what’s happening— I would never lie to you about something like that, please. The League is all I have.”

He eyed you and the tears that brimmed in your eyes. His scrutinizing gaze unwavering from your face as he decided whether or not to believe your words. 

“Fine,” he muttered.

”Do… do you know who it was?” You asked softly, still not completely sure it still wasn’t him to begin with, but if it wasn’t and he did know…

”You don’t know?” He asked, suddenly starting to scratch at his neck.

”No.” you replied, quickly wiping a tear that fell.

He was about to say something when someone cut in.

”Would you just leave the crybaby alone.”

Dabi.

“I’m not a crybaby,” you muttered, finally leaning away from Shigaraki, barely sparing Dabi a glance. 

Shigaraki started scratching with his other hand now, which meant Kurogiri was near, ready to talk him down from whatever ledge he was currently walking on.

”Yeah, sure,” he remarked sarcastically.

You should just go back to your room. You don’t think you can handle talking to someone else that could possibly be violating you.

Unlike Shigaraki, Dabi barely spared you a glance and rarely talked to you. And although he seemed to be more mentally there than some of your other teammates, you wouldn’t put it past him to hurt you.

He still had a cock after all.

Kurogiri refilled your glass.

”Thanks,” you muttered again, taking a sip.

This was too much. Too suffocating. You needed to be alone even if that meant seeing those stains on your bed.

You stood back up, taking your water with you.

”I’m going back to bed.”

With that, you left the room ignoring the stares and the ‘boos’ that followed after you from Toga for leaving so early.

You’d work with them but for now, they couldn’t be your friends.

Not until you found out which of those fuckers had touched you.

-

You isolated yourself after that.

You went through the motions. You did what you were supposed to. You did the quirk training Shigaraki’s master required of you. You went to the meetings. You tried finding new recruits now and then.

But you stopped hanging out with the others and you only spoke to them if it had to do with business with the League.

Toga and Twice seemed to be the most broken up about it, you had been the closest with those two prior to everything.

But the more you were left with your own thoughts the more everyone became a suspect.

Even Toga. She was a shapeshifter and even if it was unlikely, the fact that she even had the ability to transform into the others set you on edge.

And what if Twice was making clones. You knew he didn’t make clones of himself but what if he made that one exception. Or what if he made a clone of one of the others without them knowing and the clone was the one that raped you and Twice killed it after so not even a real person attacked you and you’re just losing your mind in front of everyone and they have no clue as to why-

‘What if, What if, What if’

You were losing your fucking mind.

You weren’t really even sleeping at night, three hours at most. You were too scared someone was going to sneak in. Whoever it was was clearly somewhat resistant to your quirk and your only line of defense you ever relied on was useless.

But you also refused to leave. You had run from every one of your problems your entire life. You weren’t about to do that here. You needed this— a purpose for your life. Hope for a better future.

You needed a plan.

You needed to figure out who was hurting you. How they were drugging you. How they were touching you.

You had just as much of a right to be here as the rest of them and you weren’t going to be trapped in fear.

You just needed a plan.

~

Dabi sat at the end of the bar, off in his own little world, away from the others and their bonding. Away from their talks about nothing that wouldn’t matter in the end anyway. 

It had been another fucking useless day, just a bunch of “villains” sitting around and hanging out.

His own efforts have proven fruitless, everyone out there was trash and finding new recruits was becoming harder and harder to find with each day.

Cyan eyes glanced at the group, some holding careless smiles and laughing, others brooding in their own little minds as well.

They were all there except you.

You hadn’t around them much these days but slowly and surely you had been coming out of your room more and more again. 

It seemed like you were starting to let your guard down again.

But right now you were busy in that old warehouse the League found for you to quirk train. 

Your training in particular was a cruel affair that he’s had the privilege of sitting in on once or twice.

It was more torture than anything else. Trying to see just how much pain you could inflict on unwitting strangers that had been swept off the streets for that reason and that reason alone.

He couldn’t be sure if you enjoyed it or not. Your face always passive and indecipherable in those moments. But you’d do it anyway. You did whatever ‘ol crusty and his master asked of you.

It pissed him off how willingly you followed after that fucking virgin.

It also pissed him off seeing how much Shigaraki enjoyed that.

Dabi sighed, raising his glass to his lips and taking a swig of the drink.

You’d be back any minute now and you’d be tired, exhausted even.

Maybe you’d want to have a quick drink with the others before heading to bed.

His jaw tensed at the thought and he drained the rest of his glass.

Or maybe you’d go straight to hiding in your room again. Barely sparing a glance or a few words with anyone.

Fuck.

He may have overdone it last time. 

But the sight of you beneath him, his hands spreading your thighs wide open, watching his cock thrusting in and out of your tight little cunt— each barbell pierced into his cock disappearing and reappearing one by one while you babbled whatever came to your inebriated mind, tits jolting with every thrust— it was too much. And Fuck— the way it hurt, every nerve ending a live fucking wire—

”Hey guys,” you mumbled tiredly.

He didn’t even hear the door open.

The others greeted you as he watched you approach them in his peripherals. Some greetings more animated than others, in Toga’s and Twice’s case specifically.

”How was quirk training!?” Toga asked with a toothy grin.

”Fine,” you mumbled, taking a seat at the bar next to Compress.

”Would you like a drink?” Kurogiri asked per routine.

”Yeah, surprise me. Just no alcohol,” you nodded, making Toga cheer, happy to see you spending time with them again. “Don’t get too excited. ‘M not staying up for long, I have more quirk training tomorrow morning so I’m going to bed after this one.”

”Aw boo—,” she grumbled. “No fun.”

”Hey, how’s the gun feel by the way?” Spinner asked.

”Still getting the hang of it, but it feels good. Thanks again.”

”Yeah, no problem.”

The conversation shifted as Twice started telling stories of his more adventurous exploits when he was younger. And there was Shigaraki eye fucking you again.

Dabi watched from the corner of his eye as Kurogiri made your drink.

Weeks had passed since that last time he visited you. Kurogiri had made you only four drinks since then.

And Dabi watched patiently as he poured in each ingredient.

But it was tonight that he used the pineapple juice.

You were the only one in the League that drank the pineapple juice.

He watched him place the glass down in front of you. 

He watched you take a sip.

A grin pulled on the corners of his mouth.

From here on out all he needed to do was wait. And Dabi was nothing if not patient. He had to wait for you to finish the drink, wait to hear you tell everyone you were tired and going to bed, and finally wait as each and every member of the League turned in for the night.

Usually by the time he could sneak into your room you were peacefully asleep. Never expecting Dabi to rouse you from your sleep, surprise taking your features every time.

Tonight was no different.

Just like clockwork you were the first to retreat to your room for the night… but not before draining your glass.

Fuck— he was getting excited.

One by one, each of his comrades decided to call it a night.

First Shigaraki and Kurogiri, then Compress, then Toga, Twice, Spinner…

And that made one.

Dabi cleared his throat, choking back the excited giggle that threatened to escape and climbed to his feet.

It had been too fucking long since he’s been able to indulge like this. With not much else to do these days he had been left with his own imagination and hand for too long.

Like a moth to a flame he found himself at your door, silently pushing it open and slipping inside.

His eyes nearly glowed in the dimly lit room as they landed on your curled up figure, laid peacefully on your futon, fast asleep.

Moonlight was the only thing to illuminate the room.

His cock throbbed, it was painfully hard as it had been for almost an hour now, precum smearing his boxers no doubt.

He palmed himself through his pants as he walked towards your peaceful form, pretty face becoming clearer the closer he got and the more his eyes adjusted to the lighting.

Unceremoniously, he collapsed to the floor, sitting down in front of you, no more than five inches from you. He watched your chest rise and fall with each of your breaths.

Carefully, he picked up a lock of hair and tugged.

You stirred but were far too drugged to wake up from the action.

He dropped the lock, fingertips now reaching for your face— your cheekbone, gently brushing them along your warm skin.

His breath hitched, little electrical shocks started in his fingers and danced up the length of his arm.

”Fuck, got my fucking cock throbbing, crybaby” he panted huskily, “Time to open those pretty eyes of yours now,” he said, giving your shoulder a shake.

“Hmm,” you whined.

”Wake up,” he said again, a harder shake this time.

You blinked your eyes open just slightly, before shutting them again.

You gave a confused hum, “Dabi?” You mumbled.

”That’s right crybaby.”

”What’re—why,” you slurred together.

He pushed your shoulder back— you were so pliant that he was able to effortlessly maneuver you onto your back.

You continued to mumble, trying to make sense in your drug addled mind as to why Dabi was in your room. All the while he was climbing onto the mattress and spreading your thighs as he settled between them. He tugged you down slightly, hooking your legs over his hips and pressing his clothed cock against you.

”Miss me crybaby? I’ve sure missed you,” he grinned, grabbing your gloved hand in his own and guiding it towards the tent in his pants, “See.” He exhaled breathily, using your hand to grasp his cock.

You tried opening your eyes again, waking up a bit more.

”Wha’s happenin’” you murmured, fingers wiggling in his hold as you tried shifting beneath him.

He only hummed, saying nothing as he lifted your hand up. He grasped the middle finger of your glove and pulled.

And just like every other time, your eyes shot open.

”No,” you whined.

”Yes,” he hissed back, pulling your glove completely off and discarding it to the side.

”Can’t touch,” you pulled your hand back and he let you cradle it to your chest. Instead shrugging his jacket off and pulling his shirt off before tossing them with your glove.

”Yes you can,” he grabbed your wrist, placing your hand on his abdomen.

Specifically on the deep purple scars.

Pain radiated from the surface of skin you touched, deep into the tissue. A shockwave of hurt burst from the center of his body, outwards.

His head fell back as a guttural groan clawed its way from his throat.

He ground his cock into you as wave after wave of pain wracked his body.

It was then that your sobs reached his ears.

He dropped your hand but the pain lingered blissfully, though it was dull.

“Fuck.”

The first touch was always the best. 

He grinned as he gazed at your tear stricken face.

”Let’s get you out of this,” he said, tugging your hoodie up.

You struggled but were too weak to stop him, every muscle in your body relaxed from the drugs.

You babbled nonsense, he didn’t even bother to try to make sense of what you were saying, just like every time before. Besides, the blood rushing in his ears was distracting anyway. 

You had no bra on, making his fingers move to the button of your jeans, fumbling with it as he eyed your tits heaving up and down with each of your breaths. He finally yanked them off your legs, along with your panties.

“Why are— does it hurt?” You continued to mumble, “How.”

“Hah—“ A laugh escaped Dabi. Tonight you seemed more concerned about hurting him rather than him stripping you down naked and getting ready to fuck you. “Wanna remember how good I can make you feel?” He asked, fingers now finding your wet cunt, stroking between your folds. That familiar, irresistible pain resumed in his hand as he pet you.

You gasped and wriggled, trying to move up the bed and get away, but the new grip on your hip prevented you from doing so.

Dabi’s head was reeling, pain and pleasure clouded his mind.

You were the only fucking girl that set his nerves ablaze in such a way. If it wasn’t for his vengeance set in a different, higher place he thinks he would never leave the bedroom with you.

Two fingers pressed into your cunt and slid in, making you squeal.

”Dabi no—“ you sobbed, continuing to wriggle in vain. “Why—“

“Shh,” he hushed, “Don’t think, just feel,” his thumb found your clit and rubbed tight little circles into it.

”Stop— I never— I’mma virgin.“

He barked out another laugh.

”You haven’t been a virgin for over a month now crybaby.”

You whimpered and cried, turning your head into your pillow as your voice became higher and higher pitched the longer this went on.

His free hand stroked your body, feeling the curve of your hips and the dip in your waist before gripping your breast. He then dived for the other, latching his lips around your nipple, pain sparking in his lips and tongue and the parts of his chest that brushed against you.

He continued to suck and tug on your nipples as his other hand continued to work you between your legs.

”Why, why, why—“ you cried, “Dabi why.”

”Because you’re mine you fucking idiot— now cum already.” He growled against your breast.

Your back arched as if his voice held any actual authority, and you came. Tears streaking your face with each spasm of your cunt.

When you came back down to earth you were a shivering, sniveling mess.

”See,” he sighed, “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

You sniffled, keeping your eyes squeezed shut.

”None of that,” he pulled the hand from between your legs and cupped your face, fingers digging into your cheeks as he smeared your fluids against your face. “No pretending you’re somewhere else. Open your eyes.” You blinked them open slowly, “Good.” He hummed, smacking your cheek lightly and sitting back up.

The pain you inflicted had finally turned into a duller thrum throughout his body. 

Meaning he had to fuck you now for his next fix.

He sucked your sticky wetness from his fingers before undoing his belt then his jeans.

He pulled his cock out, the feeling of it brushing against you making you inch away.

”See that baby?” He grunted, tilting his head back as he stroked his cock and cupped his balls, “You’ve got me so fucking pent up. Makin’ me wait almost an entire month.” He looked back down to you, eyeing you up like an animal. “Ready for my cock crybaby~” he taunted.

The words had fresh tears spilling down your cheeks.

”I’ll take that as a yes.”

He tugged you down by the hips, cock nestling between your folds. He gasped out and jolted at the sensation in his cock. 

There was no separation of the pain and pleasure you inflicted on him. It was one. Indivisible. 

And so much better than anyone else could ever offer.

He gripped his cock and lined it up at your entrance, heart beating rapidly against his ribcage.

His breathing came out hard and laborious, chest rising and falling dramatically as he psyched himself up to push into you.

That initial thrust would have him cumming. It did every time.

Fingers bit into your hips.

“1…” he growled, “2…” he shut his eyes.

”3.” Said the voice behind his ear.

Dabi’s eyes snapped open in time to see the bullet lodge itself between your eyes.

Your dead body turned to sludge, melting beneath him.

His ears rang as the unmistakable feel of a barrel of a gun pressed itself against the back of his head.

You held the gun, standing over Dabi’s kneeling figure.

As the ringing died in both yours and Dabi’s ears, the deafening silence became louder.

Bile crawled up the back of your throat as you looked over his shoulder.

His cock was still hard.

You cocked the gun, the little ‘click’ shattering the silence.

He sighed, shoulders slumping as he pushed his head back, leaning into the gun’s barrel.

”Maybe…” his raspy voice started, “I underestimated you.”

”I could kill you,” you replied coolly, “I should kill you.”

”But you won’t. I’m a pretty big player in all this League of Villains shit and you know that,” he started turning slowly, looking over his shoulder, bathing his profile in a bluish moonlight and illuminating the sick grin he wore, “So what exactly’s the plan then? Huh, crybaby?”

He was taunting you.

You set your jaw tightly and genuinely thought about pulling the trigger.

The nickname made you sick. You thought he was just being an asshole to you in the bar a few weeks ago when he called you that… you wouldn’t have thought it was a twisted little nickname he gave you after assaulting you.

”I want to talk.”

He scoffed, turning around, gazing up at you as he sat leisurely on your futon. He didn’t even bother to tuck his cock back into his pants. “I didn’t come in here to talk.”

”But that’s exactly what’s going to happen asshole or I’m going to tell Shigaraki—“

”He already knows crybaby. He watched.”

You faltered, face completely falling, “He- he what?”

Dabi grinned maliciously at you, “I let him watch last time, especially since you were such a good girl for me the first time I stopped by, taking my cock so well. I figured since he has such a hard time keeping his eyes off you then I’d really give him something to look at.”

“So,” you began shakily, “When he was interrogating me at the bar for missing that meeting—“

”Oh he knew why. He had been jerkin’ it to you the entire night.”

Fuck— tears were starting to collect in your tear ducts.

You blinked quickly in an attempt to hold them back.

You were just so fucking weak. How was it that you found yourself in progressively worse situations your entire life.

Joining these guys was supposed to mean something.

”Why,” you swallowed, gun shaking in your hand, “I thought we were supposed to be teammates.”

”I’d argue that we’re more than that now,” the words felt sinister, making you grow sicker by the second, “Do you want to know what the first thing I thought when the broker introduced you?”

You stayed silent, you didn’t want to play into this little game of his.

”I thought ‘now what cruel motherfucker would make someone that looked like you but wasn’t allowed to be touched’? But then,” he leaned back on his hands, nearly presenting his cock to you, “Once I was balls deep in that tight little virgin cunt, and you were shaking and crying in my arms I realized that you were made for me. I am the only man in this world that can fuck you. Your cunt belongs to me.”

Shit, shit, shit

”Don’t feel too bad though. This isn’t a one way street. I’ve never had pussy that’s made me fucking shake before, and that’s all you crybaby. You’re the only one that can offer me the kind of pain and pleasure that makes me forget about every crappy thing in my life.”

He was getting in your fucking head. 

“You’re insane.” You muttered hoarsely, throat suddenly dry, gun shaking even more in your hands.

”Well, what sane man would want you?”

You don’t know what possessed you, the weeks of anxiety? All the pent up anger he had caused?

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. You threw the gun across your little room and lunged at Dabi.

He wanted to feel pain? Then you’d show him what actual pain feels like. 

Your inebriated body couldn’t access the full potential of your quirk.

And you hadn’t been quirk training for nothing.

You tackled him to the futon and landed in the muddy remnants of your clone, straddling his waist as you placed both your palms against his bare chest.

Dabi’s hand flew to your wrists as… as a groan left his throat. It wasn’t a scream or a wail, it wasn’t what you expected. And the pinch in his eyebrows was anything but anguish.

His palms were hot but he wasn’t using his quirk to push you away.

You had seen and heard looks of agony and suffering on people more than you’d care to admit, but this was not that.

You pushed against his chest harder, against the deep purple scars and seams of his body, digging your fingers into the stapled flesh and drawing blood.

”Fuck— that’s different,” he groaned out, “Why’s it different.”

”Why aren’t you in more pain,” you snapped, “I’ve made grown men kill themselves after only brushing against my arm just to end their suffering. What the fuck is wrong with you!” You screamed into his face.

He only moaned in response.

Which was when you had realized he had reached down when you weren’t paying attention. He reached between the gap where you had either leg on either side of his body and was fisting his cock. He was jerking himself off while you were hurting him.

A disillusioned laugh escaped your throat, broken and choppy.

This was absurd.

This went against everything you believed about your quirk while growing up.

That your entire identity surrounded the fact that you inflicted pain and everyone and anything would always see you as the villain because of that. You were meant to be avoided and feared, never wanted or desired.

You were losing your goddamned mind.

”You’re a fucking freak,” you suddenly laughed louder at the realization, watching him drag his fist over his cock, the metal barbells of his Jacob’s ladder glinting in the moonlight. “You walk around here all tough and moody, acting like you’re better than everyone else but you’re just as fucking crazy as the rest of them.”

“You’re just as sick,” he choked out with a laugh of his own, “Watching me playing with your clone. You listened to her cry and beg me to stop and you just watched.”

”Shut up,” you hissed. You knew it was wrong, you had promised her you’d stop him before he touched her inappropriately, but when he started you couldn’t bring yourself to end things. 

A twisted part of you wanted to watch and it made you fucking sick.

Just as what you did next made you sick.

You reached down between your legs and grabbed his cock yourself, pushing his own hand away.

He threw his head back, letting out an even louder groan. You could tell this one hurt more than the hand on his chest and it made you smile knowing he was in pain no matter how much pleasure he got from it.

You started jerking him off yourself, listening to his heaving grunts and groans with every stroke of your hand. You paid no mind to the piercings in his cock, if he liked the pain then he could deal with any snagging.

He started tugging on your shirt, pushing it up higher. His hands pawing at your body until one reached your bra, pushing it up to grab your tits.

Your mind felt like it was splitting. You didn’t want him to touch you but you didn’t want to stop him.

But the nail in the coffin was when he tangled a hand in the back of your hair and tugged you down.

He was kissing you.

He tasted like burnt flesh and cigarettes.

His tongue forced itself past your lips and brushed against your own in broad strokes.

You didn’t pull away, you only kissed him back with equal fervor, biting his lips and letting him stick his tongue as far back into your mouth as he wanted to.

You moaned into the kiss, a moan that had been swallowed by his mouth, sending a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach.

He broke the kiss. Glowing cyan eyes boring into yours, “Ride me crybaby.”

You sat up, pulling your hoodie over your head and quickly undoing your bra, throwing them to the side as Dabi pulled at your pants.

You smacked his hands away, standing up to work them down your legs yourself before landing on top of him again.

He hissed at the pain as you touched him with a newly exposed body.

You ignored him, grabbing his cock and lining it up at your entrance. You sunk down slowly, adjusting to the size and the feeling of the piercings entering you.

But it wasn’t fast enough for Dabi because he was grabbing at your hips and pulling you down forcefully onto his cock.

You shook and cried out from the pain, collapsing against his chest as you sucked in breath after breath.

But Dabi shook harder from underneath you, pained moans of your name leaving his lips. You watched in curiosity, ignoring your own throbbing pain from between your legs as he started panting, body going slack.

You started laughing, you were pretty sure the fucking freak just came, ”Did you just—?” 

”It’ll get hard again, just start fucking moving,” he grunted, grabbing at your hips.

So you did.

You had no idea what your were doing so you just did whatever felt good, and grinding your clit against his pubic hair felt really good.

The feeling of his cock getting hard inside you again made you dig your fingers into his stapled flesh once more, drawing more blood.

”Shit— ride me better,” he hissed.

”I don’t know how—“

“Shut up,” he spat, holding your hips in a bruising grip as he bent his knees to get some leverage and began to thrust into you from underneath.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped. You had never felt anything like this before.

The next second he was slipping his arms around your back and switching your positions, slipping out of you but you had barely any time to process it as he slammed back into you as he was now hunched over your body.

You yelped at the brutal pace he set, hips pounding against yours. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass and every piercing dragging in and out of you.

Your high pitched, breathy moans mixed with his own deeply pained and pleasured grunts. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and all the lewd wet noises that came with every thrust made you blush deeply.

Next he was yanking your leg up, hooking it over his elbow, allowing him to reach deeper inside you.

You threw your head back, “There,” you breathed out.

You were getting close and Dabi could tell by the clenching and unclenching of your cunt. He snaked a hand down and found your clit, rubbing tight circles into it.

“Cum crybaby, show me this cunt belongs to me.”

You fucking hated that nickname. And you hated his entitlement.

You wrapped your hands around his throat, listening to those pained noises that were starting to make your head spin.

He fucked into you even harder.

Everything went white. 

You were cumming and then he was cumming, the two of you shaking in each others arms.

He had slid out with a hiss, collapsing beside you, careful not to touch you.

You stared up at your ceiling, listening to his pants. You turned to look at him.

He really was shaking. 

You reached over and touched his chest, grinning at the now truly pained reaction you got.

He activated his quirk making you hiss and pull away, cradling your now burned hand to your chest.

It was quiet for a few beats.

”Why are you able to touch me?” You finally asked.

”The doctor that put me back together said my pain receptors are fucked.”

”Oh,” that actually… made a lot of sense.

You looked back to him again. Eyeing his profile, following the slope of his nose and the subtle pout of his mouth. You looked at his scars, how the deep purple skin was being held together to his healthy skin by staples. You stared at the swollen seams where the skin was connected.

You were beginning to think he had it wrong.

He was actually made for you.

-

Tear You Apart Prequel (Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki)

Deleted Scene

[love-me-satoru]

Not the thought of yandere!Boyfriend that would tie up some random guy that was flirting with you and then fuck you in front of them.Them squirming against the ropes watching your tear filled eyes. Loud moans and your boyfriends fat fucking cock pushing into you at a brutal pace. Their cock straining against their jeans. “Look baby he’s hard.” You couldn’t process your boyfriends words until his hand wrapped around your throat Pulling you flushed against his front. “I said look slut.” your eyes glancing back at the man tied to the chair. “Good girl.. Now cum for me baby. Show him what he’ll never get.”

[eskumii]

yandere!incel!tomura shigaraki + foreigner!darling who can't speak japanese

TITLE: " RENT-A-GF " — navi.

NOTES: nsfw (18+ only) below the cut (non-con!! somnophilia!!) reminder: this is merely fantasy, i don't condone. will prob proofread someday lol. enjoy!

PAIRING: yandere!incel!shigaraki tomura x foreinger!reader

GENRE/AU: shigaraki is rlly misogynistic and delusional, age gap (you're older), reader is a substitute english teacher who got kidnapped by bwad gwuys and is now... yeah

CHARACTERS: shigaraki tomura (21), reader (24)

let's be for real: shigaraki was born to be an incel.

and incel!shigaraki is shamelessly self-aware of this, indeed. when he's not out terrorizing innocent citizens with his villainous coups, he takes to the internet to fulfill his insatiable need for an adrenaline rush. gorey video games and brutal death metal makes him light up in glee, but sometimes it's just not enough.

so, instead, he's a frequent on the dark web, diligently scouring sites that specialize in obscure female porn collectives that cater to his twisted kinks. incel!shigaraki glowers at the pictures of stupid, slutty women who prance around in sexy lingerie, but still gets a hard-on because he wishes he had a woman who would do that for him and him only.

and what shigaraki wants, he gets. on another sweaty night in his dark bedroom, he's boredly clicking through the hundreds of entries of women who are being sold for, what he thinks, too high of a price. not that money would ever be a problem for him; if he felt compelled to, he could just kidnap the girl he wanted all over again. so, no, it's not the price—it's what he thinks they're worth based on his attraction to them.

and, so far, all of them are worthless.

you see, the conundrum is that incel!shigaraki has a thing for foreign girls. don't ask why, he doesn't know. maybe he finds it cute that they're so clueless about his culture and language, and he's the one who'll control the narrative that rules their ignorance. maybe it's so cute how they wear their perpetual confusion on their face at all times, like a bratty kid who can't navigate the world without mommy or daddy by their side.

of course, though, women could hardly do anything on their own anyway. every time he came across one they'd wail and cry as he grabbed them by the hair and threatened to kill them if they didn't shut the hell up. they'd beg for their lives or scream for someone to save them, but it would only piss him off more at how useless and brainless they tended to be. he just couldn't help but decay them—they were so noisy and whiny, it wasn't his fault.

obviously, shigaraki has neither patience nor experience with women. in fact, he can probably count with two fingers how many times he's had a non-violent interaction with a woman in his entire lifetime. the mere thought of this drives his insecurities to the brink of rage, but it's not his fault women are so unbelievably tasteless in their choice of men. it's their fault he has to go to such lengths to find a decent woman worthy of his presence.

but imagine his delight when he happens upon a listing of you, an immediately attractive foreign woman who used to be an english substitute teacher of all things. he clicks through your pictures with a renewed vigor, his interest piqued as he studies your unique features. eagerly, he scours through your posted information and it turns out that you happen to be exactly the kind of woman he's looking for.

it's a done deal. the transaction takes less than a few minutes and incel!shigaraki couldn't be more pleased with how smoothly it went. he'll have to leave a good review later on, when and if the woman he's just bought has satisfied him.

it takes just one night before shigaraki finds you literally dropped off at his doorstep like an amazon prime package. you’ve clearly been pampered with the way you’re clad in a skimpy maid outfit; your nails, hair, and makeup are all dolled to perfection. you look exactly like you did in the pictures.

and clearly you're wise beyond your years. you don't speak much because of the obvious language barrier, but you do seem to understand a bit of elementary japanese. shigaraki is delighted by your small mutterings of broken japanese—it’s unbelievably cute. sometimes he'll force you to speak in japanese just because he loves watching you struggle with your limited vocabulary.

incel!shigaraki gets attached to you. you're very attractive in his eyes, and he's completely ecstatic that you're all his. a woman he can do whatever he wants with, and no one would dare question him. the immense power trip sends him over the edge.

that being said, the first couple of weeks are still rather... awkward. you're not happy about being in the situation you're in, but you're smart enough to keep that to yourself. you don't fuss when shigaraki orders you to fetch him liquor or tidy up his filthy room, nor do you complain when he commands you to cuddle with him or keep him company while he plays video games.

"[name], c'mere," he'd bark at you, eyes still glued to the tv screen.

"be a good girl and keep my lap warm, hm?"

he'll force you to wear cute lingerie sets like he's seen the women on porn sites do. somehow you look so much better though, and it feels as though you're teasing him with the way you bend over so much while cleaning. the outline of your pussy through the small fabric that stretches over it has him horny in a matter of seconds. you're such a tease, aren't you ashamed? you just can't seem to stay in line.

however, despite all your obvious sexual innuendos towards him, shigaraki gets no relief. he's resorted to jacking off whenever you go to sleep but no matter how hard or how much he cums, there's an itch that can't be scratched with masturbation alone. and the way you're so shy around him is adorable, sure, but your little playing-hard-to-get act wasn't cutting it anymore.

the remedy? incel!shigaraki starts slipping sleeping pills into your food and drinks.

and it doesn't take long for shigaraki to develop a routine of visiting you while you're sleeping. partly to check up on you and assure himself of your presence, but mostly to creep around the edges of the bed and feel you up. you sleep so soundly that you don't even twitch when he fondles your soft breasts or runs his spindly fingers over your curves.

he almost doesn't want to disturb you; you look so peaceful, totally different than the frightened little faces you muster when you're awake. but the bothersome tightness stretching his boxers taut against its stitches makes it hard to resist his urges. anyway, you're simply doing the only thing a woman is good for: using your body to please him.

his breath is hot and heavy, laced with lust and selfish perversion as he defiles you to get himself off. some nights he just sits and admires your beauty, caressing your face with clumsy, inexperienced fingertips. some nights your shirt is pulled up so he can marvel at how nicely your breasts sit in whatever color bra he forced you to wear.

other nights his cock is nestled between them, thrusting like his life depends on it, chasing that euphoric high he gets when he finally spills his seed across your hardening nipples. and other nights shigaraki is even more daring—cute pajama pants and panties below your knees, face buried between your thighs as he explores every inch of your sweet cunt. he knows it's wrong, but so what? he's a villian, that's what makes it feel so right.

when you make faces in your sleep, he's filled with so much genuine affection—it's almost as if you're telling him he's doing a good job. you love it, don't you? he so desperately wants to hear you cry his name in that precious accent of yours and run your hands through his hair as you lavish your praise upon him for making you cream so many times.

he can't keep his eyes off you. so soft and compliant. you're so pretty while he's stuffing his cock into you and relentlessly flicking your little clit, not stopping even when he feels you clench around him like a vice as you orgasm over and over. not stopping even though you're drooling all over the linen sheets and he's came twice already.

"that's right... y-you gonna cum again? you gonna—ngh—cum all over my cock, you dumb whore?"

shigaraki watches with glassy, intrigued eyes as you squirm ever so slightly, face warped into one of undeniable pleasure as he ravages your gushing pussy. you're such a good girl for him, letting him use you as he wishes.

you're the woman he's chosen to give his virginity to. he's so happy and content that when he cums inside of you for the third time, he doesn't pull out. instead, shigaraki gently maneuvers your body so he can spoon you from behind, whispering tender "i love you's" as if he knows what that means. absently grinding his hips because your warmth is so comforting around his sticky, softening dick.

as much as shigaraki wants to stay and pound you into the mattress all night, the sleeping medication doesn't last forever. not to mention the mess you've made; the sheets are completely ruined and your clothes are strewn about on the floor, long forgotten. it's hot in your room and it stinks of his cum and sweat, but it doesn't really matter. the only thing on his mind is you and how he'll ruin you again tomorrow night.

for now, though, he rewards you for being so good by cleaning you up, smirking whenever you unconsciously nuzzle up to his touch. when your clothes are back on, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead and admires your flushed face from the shadows of your bedside. when the sun begins to rise and you stir in your ignorance, he'll sneak out and act as if nothing ever happened.

incel!shigaraki who doesn't deny that you're just another stupid slutty woman, but you're the only woman he'll ever want to cum inside of. when he returns to his room, he remembers to pull up your archived listing on his computer and dazedly taps away at his keyboard.

"10/10 recommend"

[yanderes-galore]

Ooh what about romantic (but does not want to admit it) Tomura Shigaraki from MHA with a Hero darling? Concepts maybe? IDK I can't decide, thanks for considering this tho! Though I admit I do think it would end pretty badly… up to you if/how you want to write it tho!

OH THE ANGST. IT'S GOING TO BE HORRIBLE.

Yandere! Tomura Shigaraki with Hero! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Denial, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Cruel behavior, Violence, Blood, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Isolation, Forced relationship.

I feel it would end pretty badly.

Tomura is known for his hatred towards heroes.

He absolutely hates heroism.

If he was obsessed with a hero, he would plunge himself into denial.

After all, he hates everything you stand for.

He's a man of destruction.

He's not meant to be attracted to some heroic fool.

Tomura would probably have a crisis over liking a hero.

If he wasn't already.

I can also see him blaming you for his own obsession.

Curse you for being so damn captivating.

He's arrogant and selfish, he doesn't think he needs anyone in that way...

Let alone a hero.

Yet here he is, keeping track of your every move, following you.

Tomura would never admit it, but his emotions tread into dangerous territory.

He never thought he was going to be so attracted to a hero.

He hates it as much as he enjoys it.

Tomura probably actively hunts you down.

He claims it's because he's keeping an eye on you to see if you try anything.

He's very antagonistic towards you too.

Mostly because of his unresolved feelings.

He blames you for all of his obsession.

Every little thing you do drives him crazy.

Which ends up with you two fighting often.

You're no doubt a pro hero that often gets involved with him.

He hates that he sees you everywhere... Yet also actively hunts you down.

Tomura is too proud to admit he likes you... so he preaches about hating you.

After all, he understands hate more than love, so he tries to convince himself that he just hates you.

He tries to make his obsession like a rivalry, him being a big bad villain... and you being a hero.

In reality... He just refuses to admit he has any fondness towards you.

Yes, he totally hunts you down because he hates you.

He tells himself he wants to destroy you.

Each time he sees your damn face trying to give hope to the fools in this world, he gets so frustrated.

He tries to hunt you down with said intention.

Although, his obsession can never quite be ignored.

Imagine if after one fight, Tomura had you kidnapped?

He says it's for ransom, info, or anything like that.

In reality it's because his obsession has pushed him to this point and he hates sharing you with anyone else.

Since you're a hero, Tomura vents by trying to break you.

He's used to destruction.

He's never liked heroes... so he plans to tie you up, isolate you, and break you.

He threatens you but doesn't physically harm you surprisingly.

In earlier fights with him you two would fight until your skin's cracking and possibly even bleeding.

Hell, you've seen him be ruthless towards other heroes, including students.

Yet with you, in this dark dimly lit room, Tomura only seems to want to break one thing.

Your mind.

Of course he could just kill you... but his feelings won't allow that.

Instead, he takes twisted enjoyment in the idea of breaking you mentally.

He no doubt sits with you for hours, talking at you as he tries to break you with the isolation and his threats.

Honestly, you're adorable when you cry or lash out at him.

Tomura doesn't just want to break you because he's a man of destruction... but if he can make you succumb to Stockholm Syndrome that's a win for him.

He may not admit it, but he wants you to fall in love with him.

If that means breaking you down into becoming his little pet, he'll take it.

It's weird how he treats you.

One moment he's making you feel alone, useless, and telling you no one's coming to save you for a while.

After that, he love bombs you.

He gives you affection, touches that are oddly gentle compared to his usual behavior.

You don't like it at first.

However, as time passes, it's all you have.

Point is, Tomura would break a hero obsession.

He would quite literally prefer his obsession to have Stockholm Syndrome over confessing his feelings.

Tomura hates heroes, but he doesn't entirely hate you.

He'll break you down, keep you to himself, just so he can have not only the sadistic pleasure of not only bringing down a hero...

But also having you all to himself to keep.

[ataraxiaspainting]

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.

[kaitawrites]

Hello!.. Been consumed by this thot for a long while.. Can I please have some headcanons on Tomura having a (female) childhood friend (before he became all corrupted by All For One), and discovering her again, but now she’s a hero, and a popular one at that.

(You can make it NSFW and or dark if you want.)

Warning: Yandere and Dark themes, kidnapping, female reader,

You guys were neighbors and played heroes very often. It was truly the highlight of Tenko's day. "AHH! If only there was a hero to save me!" You yell you are currently standing on top of a chair, pretending to be surrounded by supervillains. "Don't worry, I am here!" A bright yellow cape adorned his back as he placed his hands on his hips.

You fought back the laugh that was about to come. A big smile on your lips as you watched Tenko fight the invisible monsters. "My Hero!" You jump joyfully into Tenko's arms, giving him a tight hug. Tenko's cheeks heated up to be a pretty pink as he smiled. "I will always be your hero," He whispered.

But after the awakening of Tenko's quirk, not only did he lose his family, but he also lost you. His heart was battered and broken as he walked through the streets mindlessly. Coming into contact with All for One. Tenko became Tomura.

It was during the war when he saw you again. He first recognized your scent before fully seeing you. There you were in your hero suit, a focused yet scared expression on your face as you stared death directly in the face.

All the pro heroes in between the two of you vanished as he appeared right before you. Your name came out of his mouth in a whisper, and your eyes widened in shock. How could he possibly know your name? His hands stretched out to touch you, and you quickly jumped back.

"It's me, Tenten," It had been ages since you heard that name. The last time you heard that name, it was you calling your best friend in the streets after his disappearance. Your family had refused to help you find him after he killed his family. But you knew he didn't mean it. You guys were supposed to be heroes together.

You eventually did give up looking for him and began to mourn the loss of a friend. A friend who stood right before you, drenched with blood and reeked of death. "You're not my Tenten," Your words cut through him like a knife. His joyful expression turned to a grim one in an instant.

You didn't even see him move before you were whisked away. Fellow hero comrades shouting your name. They couldn't do anything but watch you be taken as a hostage. Your body lay limp in his arms.

He had taken you to an unfamiliar area of Japan. You awoken strapped down to a chair, completely immobile. "You're awake," His voice was raspy and deep. Completely different from the memory of him you had. He hated the look of fear in your eyes. Hated the way he heard your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes were soft as he looked over the bruises that littered your body.

"Tomura, You have to listen to me. You have to let me go." Your voice was low and trembled with every word. You didn't understand. He has finally found you. Why would he ever let you go again? He was your hero, after all. "Tomura, please-" He cut you off quickly. "Don't call me that. I'm your Tenko. Tenten. Your hero." You felt his stifling rage begin to spike. You watched how veins protruded through his arms as he clenched his fist tightly.

"They turned you against me. I'm not the villain here. Those false heroes! They abandoned me. They are the reason I am like this. And how dare they smile and live in joy while I live in misery. I finally have you back, and you want to return to them? It's their fault. And I won't let you go. You are mine."

AN: Hope you enjoyed it!! I am thinking of an NSFW to go after this. Very much background here.

[rotten-pomegranate]

Really dark yandere shigaraki headcannons

Warnings: Noncon, kinda pet play, leash and collar, dog cage, abuse

Yandere shigaraki who makes you wear a chain leash and drags who towards him with it when he wants sex

Yandere shigaraki who has you sit on his lap or between his legs sucking him off while he plays games

Yandere shigaraki who puts you in a dog cage whenever he’s not home

Yandere shigaraki who has you bounce on his cock with his pinky just nearly hovering over your skin

Yandere shigaraki who loves watching you tremble when he comes up behind you and bites all around your neck

Yandere shigaraki who freaks out and beats you up when you don’t do what he wants

Yandere shigaraki who has you dress like a bunny girl and serve him when he’s in a fun mood

Yandere shigaraki who rests his feet on your head while leading a Lov meeting

Yandere shigaraki who has you on edge every night thinking he could turn over in his sleep and turn you to dust

[reanniee]

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.

[mango-bango-bby]

Dont know if you wanna do this but this has been on my mind for a while now lmao.

Shigaraki is playing a video game with you in his lap, the controller almost between your thighs.

When the game gets to difficult the controller buzzes and you jump against him, he smiles. Now he has completely forgotten about the game, purposely taking damage to see your sweet reactions

(Dont know if you've done this before, would be nice if you make a little one shot of this. Love your stuff bye bye!!!)

♡ Video Games ♡

(A/N: Ughhhh I’ve been so busy lately with work and classes, I’ve barely had anytime to write ☹️☹️ I hope that you all understand 💞 Anyways I hope you like this!! This idea is so creative and I loved writing it 💕💕)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, NSFW, vibrators, smut, fem!reader, slight DUB-CON

Summary: Tomura uses his game controller as a vibrator on you (Yan!Shigaraki x Fem!reader)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Tomura loved you a lot, like a lot. He loved you in a lot of innocent ways, liking when you did smiled at him or hugged him in your sleep. However he loved you in a lot of other ways, having trouble sometimes keeping his mind out of the gutter. The way you wiggled in his lap while trying to get comfortable or the way your chest bounced when you walked with a bit to much energy, he just couldn’t help it.

You lean back a bit onto Tomura’s chest. You two sit on the floor of his room in the League’s base, you siting in between his legs with your eyes focused on the screen and the game he was playing. The controller and his hands resting just above your bare thighs, as all you were wearing was a pair of pajamas shorts,

You watch him play the game, although he wasn’t really doing to well because he was fighting a particularly hard boss. Luckily, the health in the game took a long time to decrease, so he still had a lot of time to beat the boss. Tomura sets his hands that hold the controller onto your thighs, which you didn’t think much of.

Until he took damage again. You jumped, letting out a small gasp at the sudden vibration from the controller that was so close to your cunt. Tomura stopped for a moment before setting his head down on your shoulder. You whimper a bit, knowing that he’s going to keep teasing you from how you can feel him smirk against your skin.

He deliberately presses the control against your clit through your shorts, putting a lot of pressure on it. The controller vibrates again as his character takes damage, which has you reaching behind you to hold onto him. As much as he’d love to beat this boss right now, he always took an opportunity to tease you.

“Tomura.. right now?” You whimper, asking if he has to tease you right now. Tomura lets out a raspy hum at your words, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape.

The boss in the game lands nonstop hits, the controller doesn’t stop buzzing, sending shock waves through your body and causing you stomach to drop at the incredible feeling.

“Tomura” you whisper, being caged in his arms as he leans over you. You try to wiggle out of his hard grip but he only holds you tighter and presses the end of the controller harder onto your clit. You wiggle, acting as if you’re trying to escape his arms, but he sees how you press your hips against the control and buck your hips.

“Are you going to cum already?” Tomura rasps quietly, being close enough to your ear for you to hear it. It’s been such a short amount of time and yet you’ve already come undone. You nod your head shakily. “Can I cum?” You ask, always asking before cumming. He only nods his head against your shoulder.

He’ll let you cum. Although there’s still a lot of his health bar left, and he’s determined to keep you here until he gets the ‘game over’ screen.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

[yanderenightmare]

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.

[disaster-writer]

Tear You Apart (Prequel)

Pairing: Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki

Summary: Before you had found out who had been drugging you, Dabi had invited Shigaraki to come and watch one of these occasions

Word Count: 3.6k

Rating: X 18+

Warnings: Dark fic, smut, noncon, drugging, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masochism… dead dove: do not eat

A/N: This is a prequel, read the first part here —>

Tear You Apart (Part 1)

Dabi took a long drag on the cigarette that hung loosely from his fingers before blowing out, the smoke billowing in front of him.

He looked over lazily at the male companion he sat with at the bar.

”You like her~” he lilted, mocked even, watching Shigaraki stare over his shoulder at the pretty woman that sat in the booth in the back all by herself.

”Like who?” He asked, not bothering to look away.

It made Dabi scoff, “Don’t play dumb, makes you look like a fuckin’ idiot.” He muttered, taking another drag.

It was odd being trapped in this limbo, not knowing what the fuck to do as the days passed, waiting for Shigaraki’s master to tell them what to do next.

But at least some of the fuckers in the league were out searching for recruits for once and the ones that weren’t were already asleep.

It was just Dabi and Shigaraki.

And you all alone in the back.

”She’s falling asleep,” Shigaraki idly commented, watching your eyes fluttering shut and then open every few seconds.

Dabi looked over his own shoulder. 

You were falling asleep.

He then looked at your drink that you completely drained.

”She had two drinks tonight,” Dabi offered as an explanation.

”She doesn’t drink alcohol. They’re mocktails.”

Dabi sucked on his teeth, “Someone pays attention, huh?” he taunted.

It pissed him off how much Shigaraki paid attention to you. Dabi was never fond of sharing.

”She said she used to be an alcoholic,” he added.

He may as well have been removing the staples from his seams and peeling the flesh back himself with how deeply he was getting under his skin.

”Or it’s just fuckin’ late, speaking of which, maybe you should go to sleep too. Huh Shiggy? Heard we had another long day of doing fuck all.”

Dabi needed him gone, he was already cutting into his schedule for the night by hanging around, staring at you.

”We have a meeting in the morning,” he muttered into his shoulder. His unwavering eyes never leaving your huddled form, curled up in the booth. “Someone should take her to her room.”

”And by someone I’m sure you’re talking about yourself, huh?” He muttered, stubbing out his cigarette in the ash tray, “Wanna try touching little miss ‘can’t touch me’ don’t’cha.”

”She has clothes on. It wouldn’t hurt.”

”Just trying to cop a feel then?”

Shigaraki didn’t respond.

Dabi tapped the bar impatiently, he was really starting to get on his nerves. 

Fuck— why didn’t you just go to your fucking room before falling asleep like last time. 

He guessed he was lucky that more people weren’t around, at least he knew Shigaraki’s thoughts were just as depraved as his… actually he wouldn’t put it past the fucking creep to think up even more disgusting shit than he does.

Dabi looked back over his shoulder.

You were asleep.

Shit.

You drank a lot of that shit tonight, the pineapple juice he spiked being the base of both drinks. He’d be lucky if he was able to get you coherent at all.

He looked at Shigaraki and he was still just fucking staring.

Dabi needed a plan to get you into your room.

Ah, fuck it.

Dabi turned back towards the bar, fingering the rim of his own empty glass.

”I slipped her something.”

At that Shigaraki was looking at him for the first time the entire night.

”Why?” 

He didn’t seem put off, just curious.

Fuckin’ perv.

“I conducted a little experiment of mine the other night and I wanted to do it again.”

”What was it?”

”I wanted to see what would happen if I touched her.”

Shigaraki eyed him. Dabi looked fine and he had listened in on some of your own depressing stories growing up, like how your mother stabbed herself to death in front of you after you touched her or how you watched a dog ram it’s head against the side of a building until it died, after you tried petting it as a child.

He didn’t remember Dabi going through any bizarre episodes like that.

“What happened after you touched her?” 

Dabi looked up from his glass, looking right into those little beady red eyes of his, “I fucked her.”

“How?” He breathed out, curiosity bleeding from the single word.

He started scratching his neck.

“Come with me and I’ll show you.”

”Okay.”

Dabi stood up, hands shoved in his pockets as he made his way over to your curled up body, sleeping with your head against the wall.

He slid in beside you as Shigaraki stood off to the side awkwardly.

”Hey, crybaby,” Dabi hummed. He grasped your shoulder, pulling you to lean on him instead.

You didn’t even hum, still fast asleep.

Fuck, you were really out of it tonight. But you were so pliable right now he couldn’t be too stressed.

”Crybaby?” Shigaraki asked.

A knowing smirk painted Dabi’s lips, “You’ll find out.” 

There was no point spending time right now trying to wake you, so instead he slipped back out of the booth, managed to pull you towards the end before hooking an arm under your knees and around your back, lifting you out of the booth.

”Let’s go,” Dabi muttered to Shigaraki as he began walking towards your room.

Shigaraki followed after, staring at your face as your head hung back with no strength to hold it up.

His cock stirred.

Reaching your room, Dabi shouldered the door open and Shigaraki shut it behind him.

Only a dim lamp was on, lighting up the room.

Shigaraki didn’t look around, he didn’t need to. There had been more than one occasion he had slipped inside while you were out quirk training, to lay in your bed… to touch himself while surrounded by your scent and the things you’ve touched with those wonderfully destructive hands of yours.

Dabi walked over to your bed, laying you down flat on your back, seating himself between your legs, dragging his hands over your clothed hips and thighs.

“Sit down or something,” Dabi snapped at Shigaraki, “I don’t need you looming over my shoulder like a fuckin’ creep.”

”I want to see you touch her.”

”You can do that from the floor you freak.”

He sat down, a bit too close for his liking but Dabi let it be. 

Dabi leaned over you, raising his hand and smacking your cheek a couple times. “Time to wake up crybaby.”

Shigaraki watched in curiosity, Dabi didn’t seem to be in any pain from touching your cheek. “Did that hurt?”

”Yeah,” Dabi grinned, watching your heavy eyelids trying to peel back, “It fuckin’ hurts all right.”

You groaned, deep in your throat as your head lolled to your shoulder. “Da… Dabi…” you murmured, trying to focus your tired eyes on him.

“That’s right baby, enjoy your nap?— hey, no“ he smacked your cheek again, harder this time as your eyes started drooping. “Look who’s joining us tonight,” he pushed your head to the side, making you look at Shigaraki.

Your face screwed up cutely, you were just so confused, “Sh.. Shh,” was all you managed to get out.

”I know,” he said condescendingly, “It’s a hard name to say. But that’s okay, you only need to know mine tonight.” He dragged his hand down, squeezing your tit and pulling out a surprised grunt from you. “Let’s get you out of these ridiculous clothes, always wearing this baggy shit.”

He pulled you up, holding up your dead weight as he started yanking your hoodie up, pulling it up and over your head, body slumping back down against the futon as it came off.

You had no bra on, leaving you in your gloves that you always wore and your sweatpants.

Shigaraki’s hand twitched as he eyed your tits.

”Ah, ah, ah,” Dabi tsked, noticing the movement from the corner of his eye, “Can’t touch remember.”

Shigaraki was getting annoyed, “Why can you?”

He ignored him, hooking his fingers into your sweats and panties, pulling them down your hips and legs until they flopped back down around him.

You groaned again.

Then came your gloves. 

And that woke you up— or at least as close you could come to waking up in this state.

”No, can’t,” you grunted, trying to pull your hands from Dabi’s grasp, “Can’t,” you whined louder.

“There you go,” Dabi sighed, pulling the second glove off, “Feel better without all those clothes?”

You were completely naked but Dabi had barely touched you, and it was pissing Shigaraki off, but he’d admit the sight of your perky nipples in the cool air did something to cool off the annoyance simmering deep within.

“Touch her,” he ordered.

Dabi raised a brow, looking at him for the first time since coming here, “You saying that as my boss?”

”Yes,” he hissed, starting to scratch his neck again.

”Fine. You got it boss.”

Dabi sighed, rolling his shoulders back. He pulled his jacket off, tossing it behind him before pulling his shirt off, tossing it at Shigaraki with a laugh who only decayed it without a word as it landed in his hand.

”Funny ain’t it?” Dabi asked, hovering above your sleepy face. He looked over to Shigaraki, “You can’t touch her because you’re both the same side of the same coin, but us,” he looked back down to you, nose almost brushing against your own, “We’re two sides of the same.” He dipped down, locking his lips with your own.

He groaned loudly against your mouth, a sharp, piercing pain erupting throughout his mouth, radiating outwards, needles being threaded in and out of his skin. They stabbed his eyes and eardrums.

It made his fucking cock throb and he needed more.

He licked into your mouth, swallowing all the little whimpers you emitted, panting into yours as he breathed through the pain.

His hands ached as they dragged along your sides feeling a sharp, stabbing pain as if two knives had been stabbed straight through his palms and he dragged them down, down, down.

You whimpered, body jolting in shock at the feel of him cupping your cunt.

You shook your head, pulling away from the kiss and looking to the side as your breathing began picking up.

Dabi started kissing down your neck instead.

Your eyes opened, looking all over the room before landing on Shigaraki.

His breath hitched as he watched you, hand slowly moving towards his crotch.

”What… What’s happenin’” you asked, staring at him with such large, watery puppy eyes.

Shigaraki stared at you, he had never seen an expression like this on you. Lost, vulnerable, seeking comfort, assurance. He started scratching harder. “Dabi’s going to show me how he fucks you, crybaby—“

Dabi tsked, “Come up with your own fuckin’ pet name.”

Your eyes lolled in your head, landing on the fluffy mane on Dabi’s head.

”How—“ you cut yourself off with a gasp, hips jerking.

Shigaraki’s eyes snapped down to where his hand disappeared between your legs. “What are you doing?” He asked impatiently, trying to inch forward and see what was going on, now grasping his cock through his pants.

Dabi dragged his lips up to your ear, “Shiggy wants to see how I make you feel good. You wanna show him your cute little pussy, show him how you cream around my fingers crybaby.”

Tears started falling, too overwhelmed by what was going on and not being able to grasp any of it.

He sat back up, leaning away from you but keeping his fingers inside. 

Shigaraki’s eyes widened, taking in every last inch of your perfect pussy, “Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, shoving his hand into his pants watching as Dabi played with you. “Does it hurt inside?” He asked, not being able to keep the curiosity at bay. He often wondered, when he lay in your bed and stroked his cock, if the inside of your cunt would hurt as much as the outside must’ve.

”Fuck, yeah it does,” Dabi breathed, placing his thumb on your clit. “It’s like her pussy’s full of fuckin’ razor blades.”

Your hips jerked again at the sensitive little button being played with.

They both watched every little reaction you made with rapt attention. You wriggled weakly, attempting to get away as each whimper and sweet little moan climbed higher in pitch. Your fingers curled weakly against the bed sheets, head tilting back.

Shigaraki sucked in a breath. “I think she’s gonna—“

You were cumming, hips weakly humping the air, grinding against Dabi’s hand with every stutter.

”That’s it baby,” Dabi encouraged— patronized. His free hand stroking your hip. Shigaraki didn’t miss the way his hand twitched as he touched your skin. “Feels good don’t it?”

Your breathing was labored as you fell steadily from your orgasm.

Shigaraki stared intensely at the way your pussy clenched as Dabi dragged his fingers from you, covered in a shiny wet gloss, sticky strings connecting his fingers to your cunt.

”Let me taste.”

Dabi cocked his head towards Shigaraki, lifting a brow, “Finding loopholes already—?”

”Just let me taste,” he spat.

With a roll of his eyes, Dabi was reaching his hand out, to which a very eager Shigaraki shuffled forward. He grabbed Dabi’s wrist, lifting his pinky finger high in the air as he shoved his fingers into his mouth.

He sucked them clean, moaning at the taste. He had never tasted pussy before and it was intoxicating. He swirled his tongue around both digits, licking and sucking every last drop of your heady taste from his fingers.

”Alright,” Dabi scoffed, yanking his hand from Shigaraki mouth and tight grip, wiping his spit off on your futon,“I’m pretty sure you got it all.”

”Fuck her,” Shigaraki hissed through his teeth, smacking and licking his lips.

Dabi turned back to you, ”Hear that crybaby? Shiggy wants to see how I rail this pretty little pussy,” he started undoing his belt, “Ready to put on a show?”

You looked at him tiredly, eyelids drooping, watching but not really watching as he stood up and took off his pants. Your glassy eyes stared at his cock with no recognition behind them. 

You had no idea what the fuck was going on.

Realizing just how lost and weak you were had Shigaraki’s hands trembling as he undid his own pants to pull his cock out, gripping it the only way he alone ever has.

Dabi may have been able to touch you, why and how he may never know, but Shigaraki understood you in a way he never could.

You and him were one and the same.

Both his and your hands left a trail of carnage wherever you two went.

He barely registered Dabi moving, situating himself in a new position to fuck you silly, Shigaraki was too enraptured by those lost, glassy eyes. 

He could’ve gotten off to that look alone. He would’ve if it wasn’t for Dabi’s annoyingly raspy voice pulling him from his thoughts.

”If you wanna last more than two minutes, you may wanna slow down there boss-man.”

Shigaraki tsked in response.

Dabi was laying himself beside you, gripping your waist and turning you onto your side. He was acclimating to the pain, the sharp, stabbing sensations you caused to wrack throughout his body and make his head spin was dying down.

He was ready to take more of the punishing sensations only you could give him.

He pressed his chest flush against your back, causing another pleasantly painful thrum throughout his body, making his cock twitch against your ass.

He was hooking his hand behind your knee, opening you up, spreading you open with one leg raised in the air baring you so Shigaraki could see every detail, complete and undeniable proof that he was the only man that could fuck you like this.

Complete and undeniable proof that you belonged to him.

And if he was going to put on a show then he was going to make sure it was a worthwhile watch.

He bent his knee, hooking your leg over his as he lined himself up with your cunt. The sensitive tip against your gummy hole felt like a needle was being shoved through it.

He looked down at you, your glassy eyes stared at Shigaraki.

He grabbed you by your cheeks and turned your head, “Eyes on me,” he grunted, staring down at you as he lifted your leg again.

His heart started pounding against his ribcage as he remembered what happened the last time he shoved his cock deep inside you. The way he came without any ounce of self control, as if your cunt knew exactly what it wanted.

He stared down at your teary eyed face and sucked in a breath.

He drove his hips forward in one fluid motion, completely sheathing himself inside you, pushing past the resistant muscles in your cunt.

You cried out at the sudden pain and intrusion as Dabi shook and trembled beside you, hips spasming before stilling, emptying his balls into you.

”Ah—fuck,” he groaned raspily into your ear, pain and pleasure blending into one full bodied sensation, rendering him completely useless as he fell to the mercy of your cunt.

His head was hazy, barely registering a single fucking thing Shigaraki was going on about. 

He was done for if you ever figured out how much power your pussy had over him. He never wanted to be in another cunt ever again.

His eyes started focusing on your face once more, reveling in the tears that streamed down your cute little cheeks, and the way your pouty lips blubbered with sobs. 

He dipped down, meshing his lips with yours in another bruising kiss, drool leaking between your lips as you continued to cry into his mouth.

Dabi lifted your leg again, high into the air as he started shallowly thrusting, overstimulated and already starting to get hard, your unforgiving cunt barely giving him a chance to think clearly between orgasms.

He shoved his tongue down your throat, messily licking and moaning into your mouth.

Dabi completely forgot about Shigaraki practically kneeling over him, getting as close as he possibly could to the futon you were both on.

He was staring— leering at the point you two were connected. He watched as Dabi’s cock disappeared and reappeared inch by inch in your greedy cunt, Dabi’s creamy white seed gushing out of you the more he pumped his cock inside.

Shigaraki had to grip the base of his cock tightly so he wouldn’t cum too soon.

Dabi slowly started to increase his pace as he started to somewhat regain some of his bearings.

Fuck— the sounds.

Shigaraki moaned pitifully, leaning forward on one hand as the other matched the pace of Dabi’s thrusts on his own cock, listening to the wet slaps of skin on skin. 

If he focused hard enough he could imagine it was him that was fucking you, getting ready to blow his load in your tight cunt instead.

There was blood, tinting the white mess pink.

”’M gonna cum,” Shigaraki choked out at the sight, “‘M gonna cum on her.”

Dabi released your mouth, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. “Wait til ‘m done.” He grunted, “You better fuckin’ hold it.”

”I’m your boss remember?” He hissed, stroking his cock faster, “I give the orders.”

”When you can put your crusty fuckin’ dick in her without keeling over, then you can give all the fuckin’ orders you want. She’s mine.”

It would have been so easy to reach a hand out and touch Dabi— watch him decay before his eyes.

But given the circumstances and the fact that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to touch you the way Dabi could, he didn’t.

Now that he had this he couldn’t just go back to watching you around the LOV base— he couldn’t go back to only touching himself in your bed while you were out.

A particularly loud moan escaped you as Dabi angled his hips.

”Fuck, that it crybaby? That feel good?” He grunted, full attention back on you now.

He started fucking into you harder, jackhammering his cock against your g-spot.

Yours, Dabi’s, and Shigaraki’s moans and grunts bounced off the walls of the room along with the slick sounds of his cock thrusting in you to create a lewd cacophony. 

You were suddenly shaking and crying harder than before, digging your nails into the futon.

Dabi threw his head back and cursed, fucking you through your orgasm as you squeezed his cock like a vice.

Shigaraki nearly came as you squirted all over the futon.

Dabi was cumming soon after, adding more to the mess between your legs. 

The moment he came down from his own high he was pulling out in seconds, the feeling of you too intense and overstimulating now that he came twice.

”’M gonna cum on her face,” Shigaraki moaned, shuffling upwards, kneeling above you with his cock shoved inches from your face.

You stared up at him all teary eyed and lost, panting and shaking from your climax.

Seeing you part your lips, trying to say his name was all he needed to cum. White strings of sticky seed painting your pretty face and hair as his vision went white.

Refocusing his eyes he found the depraved scene before him.

It was enough to make his cock twitch again.

You sniffled, laying there covered in both his and Dabi’s cum 

“I want to touch her, how do you do it,” he panted, continuing to stare at your cum covered face.

”You don’t,” Dabi grunted, shaking beside you.

He grit his teeth. Both hands came up to scratch at his neck as he stared down at you with unforgiving eyes, watching you trembling before him. A hostility towards you and the body he couldn’t touch began growing deep within him.

”Then get it back up and fuck her again.”

”Whatever you say boss.”

[not-noelle]

Yandere!Shigaraki

yandere!shigaraki who threatens to decay dabi when you're not looking

yandere!shigaraki who orders you to stay near him during missions

yandere!shigaraki who rarely lets you leave the lair

yandere!shigaraki who considers you his most prized possession

yandere!shigaraki who manipulates you into staying

yandere!shigaraki who plays mind games on you

yandere!shigaraki who tries to cook your favourite food

yandere!shigaraki who lets you play videogames with him

yandere!shigaraki who believes you two are bound to be together

[miragens-para-uma-vitoria]

PERDI A VERGONHA FINALMENTE, VIVA BRASIL E VIVA A TODOS OS IDIOMAS QUE LEIO NO TUMBLR!

Então, pessoal, depois de anos consumindo imagines e fanfics em inglês e não falando ou comentando por causa do meu inglês ruim, finalmente perdi a vergonha. Eu consigo ler facilmente em inglês, mas escrever e me expressar é outra história. Mas estou cansada disso. Por respeito aos escritores que sigo, vou interagir com eles, seja pelo meu inglês ruim ou pelo Google Tradutor. Talvez eu até comece a escrever para meus amigos brasileiros. Quero que todos que sigo saibam que eles são maravilhosos e escrevem perfeitamente. Peço desculpas e agradeço pela paciência! BEIJOS🩷

So guys, after years of consuming imagines and fanfics in English and not speaking up or commenting because of my poor English, I finally lost my shame. I can easily read in English, but writing and expressing myself is another story. But I'm tired of that. Out of respect for the writers I follow, I'll be interacting with them, either through my poor English or through Google Translate. Maybe I'll even start writing to my Brazilian friends. I want everyone I follow to know that they are wonderful and write perfectly. I'm sorry and thank you for your patience! BEIJOS🩷

caso alguém se sinta ofendida ou não goste peço que fale comigo ou me bloquei, e peço que se for brasileiro me siga que em breve virá muito conteúdo em português/br

If anyone feels offended or doesn't like it, please talk to me or block me, and I ask that if you are Brazilian, follow me because soon there will be a lot of content in Portuguese/br

OBRIGADA A TODOS PELA COMPREENSÃO

THANK YOU ALL FOR UNDERSTANDING

[nataliepruitts]

A Light In My Dark World | Yandere!Shigaraki x Reader

Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~~

It's been ten years since you left Japan with your parents, you hated leaving without telling Tomura goodbye but your mom didn't give you a chance to. Now, ten years later, you're finally back in Japan to attend college. You couldn't believe your luck when you found out that you got an offer to go to college in Japan, you didn't hesitate to jump at the chance to see this beautiful country again.

As you got settled in your dorm you kept thinking about Tomura, wondering how he was doing and if you would see him while you were in Japan. You can't deny that you had a small crush on him but he scared you and you weren't sure if you could have ever had anything with him because you would always be worrying if the slightest wrong move you make, or the wrong thing you say, would set him off and make him turn against you. But despite him being a little scary and creepy, you couldn't stop the crush from forming.

Now you wonder if he even remembers you, or did he forget about you. You wonder if he found a nice Japanese girl that he decided to settle down with, your heart aches at the thought but you will be happy for him if he did. You just want him to be happy. You had hopes that he found a better life… That is until you saw him on the news one day as one of Japan's most wanted villains.

Your heart sank. Tomura is a villain?

You didn't want to believe it but when you saw his picture you knew it was him. It breaks your heart to see that he's living a life of villainy. Now you're certain that he most likely forgot about you.

You told your roommate and your friends that you know him and they comfort you. They had all been so kind to you ever since you started college with them which surprised you since they're the type of girls that you wouldn't imagine being so nice to a newcomer. When you first met them you immediately noticed how beautiful they were with their makeup on, their hair all done up in different styles, and the really nice clothes that they wear. You were surprised when they wanted to be friends with you, they're such sweethearts and you're happy that you're friends with them.

You have always considered yourself to be plain-looking and not all that attractive, even though a lot of people tell you how beautiful you are. You never had any luck in attracting boys, they always went for your friends, both in your home country and here. Though you assume that the main reason why boys in Japan don't show any interest in you is because you're a foreigner, along with the fact that they're always more attracted to your friends than you. You highly doubt that even Tomura shares your feelings, you're sure that if you ever told him that you had a small crush on him he would just scoff at you and tell you how he only ever saw you as a friend, that hurts to think about but you're certain it's true.

But you know that he was really upset about you leaving. You went to the vacation house after you arrived in Japan, only to find it completely destroyed with the ground fully decayed. The locals told you how a boy completely destroyed the place ten years ago after finding out that the girl who was staying there with her parents had left and was possibly never going to return. You knew it was Tomura who did it and you knew it was because you left, but you aren't sure if he was pissed that you left without saying goodbye or if he was really upset that his friend was gone. Either way, Tomura killed about a dozen people that day.

You have been in Japan for half a year now and you have done nothing but focus on your studies. Your friends will take you out every so often to get you away from your school work but mostly you have your nose in your books. You're not worried about boys or trying to start anything romantic because that's not what you're there for, you're there to go to school and get your scholarship.

One night your roommate and friends decide to have a sleepover, they know how you've been stressing about studies and dealing with the news that your childhood friend, Tomura, is a villain, so they chose to have a sleepover with you to help you relax and take your mind off things. You five were up all night playing video games, watching anime, eating snacks, making jokes, and laughing with each other to the point where you would almost piss in your pajama pants. It was a lot of fun and really did help you calm your nerves and take your mind off of everything. But it was a bad idea to do it on a school night.

The following morning your roommate wakes you up in a panic. "Y/n, wake up! We overslept, we're gonna be late for class!"

You jump out of bed and join your friends as you all rush to get ready. The five of you ran out of the dorms and toward the school building, but something was off. You slow down as you get this eerie feeling, something in your gut telling you to turn and run away. Your friends slow down as they get the same feeling. You guys look at the school as you slowly walk towards it. "Something's not right." You speak softly as you continue taking hesitant footsteps toward the building.

Before any of your friends could say anything, you guys see the principal of the school come running out of the building. He runs right towards you guys as he shouts at you, "Run away! Get away from here!" He gets closer to you and you can see the fear and panic in his eyes, "The League of Villains are here, their leader is looking for a certain girl!" Not a second after he finishes talking, his whole body is suddenly engulfed in blue flames.

You and your friends scream as you turn to run away but blue flames surround you guys and block your path. You turn to see a tall guy with black, messy hair, burned scars all over his body with staples holding his skin together, and some piercings. You can see smoke coming off of his right hand and you guess that he was the one that the blue flames came from. Dabi. You remember seeing him on the news.

"You girls are late for class," he says with a smirk on his face. "Come on, you five are the last girls that need to be taken to the boss. Better hurry up 'cause he's getting ready to tear down this whole school just to find this girl that he's looking for." Dabi steps to the side as he gestures for you guys to walk ahead of him, two other members of the league come out to help him usher you guys into the building.

Their leader is looking for a girl? Who is their leader? Is he talking about Tomura? Whoever this girl is that they're looking for, I feel sorry for her. I hope she will be okay. You're pulled from your thoughts when you enter the building and Dabi starts talking.

"These five girls were running late for class."

You look around and see all the other girls sitting on the floor huddled together, crying and looking completely terrified. You also see pieces of people all over the floor, some of the girls were killed. Your heart pounds in your chest as your eyes scan over the scene before landing on the guy who you know is responsible for the deaths, Tomura Shigaraki. He stands there scratching his neck as he mumbles to himself.

"She's supposed to be here, master said she was at this school. But where is she? I will tear apart this whole school if I have to in order to find her." He waited all these years to see you again. He was beginning to doubt that you would ever return until he got the news from All For One that you were finally back in Japan. Naturally, he was really pissed when he found out that you were in Japan for half a year and he was never told, but he was more than thrilled to hear that you have finally returned.

Tomura finally registered that Dabi was talking and he looked over at him before looking over at you and your friends. Once his gaze falls on you his eyes widen as he feels his heart rate speed up. You're even more beautiful than you were the last time he saw you. He moves toward you, not taking his gaze off you for a second.

You place your bag on the ground before walking toward him, your friends grab your arms to stop you but you give them a reassuring smile. "It's okay. You guys stay here." You pull away from them and move toward your old friend, you don't know what this is about or why he's here but if you can do anything to save your friends and the other girls you will do it. Your heart pounds faster in your chest as you get closer to him, "Tomura, I don't know which girl you guys are after or why you're after her, but please just let her be. All of these girls are terrified right now, she's probably scared out of her mind."

Tomura lets out the most maniacal laugh you have ever heard, "Scared out of her mind? It doesn't look to me like she's scared out of her mind, not when she's standing right in front of me telling me all of that." Your eyes widen, it didn't occur to you that you were the one he was looking for. You can see the corners of his mouth poke out from the sides of the hand mask he's wearing as he looks at you with a possessive look in his eyes. You stand there frozen as he gets closer to you. "I came to claim what is mine."

"Wha-?" You weren't able to finish your question when you felt a needle inserted into your neck, unknown fluids entering your body, fluids that were concocted together to put someone to sleep instantly. Dabi removes the needle from your neck and your body falls limp, but Tomura pulls your limp body into his arms to keep you from falling to the floor. He holds you tightly as he picks you up bridal style, being careful not to place all of his fingers on you. He turns to head for the warp gate that Kurogiri had already opened for him, completely ignoring the pleas of your friends who were begging him to let you go. He finally has you with him again and he will never let you go.

[ghostsy]

Midas Touch

WARNINGS: yandere, possessiveness, manipulation, implied abuse, non-consensual implications, toxic relationship, unreliable narrator

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! SHIGARAKI TOMURA X READER

“I’m sorry.”

“No talking,” Her lips twisted, but still she kept her gaze towards the setting sun, “Please. No talking, please.”

“Okay,” He sighed, and a heavy feeling settled on his heart, “No talking.”

He figured it less of a wish for silence, and more a fear of what she would say if she allowed herself to speak. A fear of what he would do if the words strayed from the script he’d given her who knows how many days or months or years ago.

He supposed he couldn’t blame her, but the thought still left a bitter taste in his mouth, tongue itching against his teeth, desperate to bridge the gap between them.

But he swallowed the urge, and settled for staring instead. She never said he couldn’t stare, and though she drew her knees closer to her chest, she didn’t reprimand him. Wouldn’t. 

And try as he might, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her profile; how regal it was, the warm golden glow of the setting sun surrounding them, though, seeming only to grace her with its light. Orange gleamed against her skin, eyes shimmering as flecks of yellow danced along the waterline.

The shine that crept at the edges of her lashes followed the sharp curve of her nose, and like strokes of a painting, it swept across her cheekbones.

A soft wind blew through her hair, rose-gold glimmering between the gaps of the swaying strands, and coloring the ends in a brilliant kind of orange-red. Kind of like a halo, he thought.

And then he caught sight of it, and the weight in his chest cracked his ribs. 

It was an ugly sort of blue-green, distracting from the warm light that would have made her look altogether angelic. Would have. But the purpling fingerprints–five, to be exact–stained the sides of her throat, and he felt like screaming.

But she asked him not to speak. And so he wouldn’t. Sew his mouth shut until she deemed it worthy enough to open. Perhaps that was the solution; it seemed that words only ever hurt the both of them. Her, not you.

Once upon a time, he thought she was something made only for him. A shiny toy he could touch and hold and squeeze. A toy that wouldn’t break. 

He realized, in time, however, that he had never known how to take care of his toys as a child. Long before they’d turn to dust, he’d never handled anything as delicate, as soft, as pretty.

But she wasn’t a toy. And, though she couldn’t shatter under his touch, she could break. Scream and cry and beg while he took and took and took. Whatever momentary pleasure he’d stolen from her dissolving in the darkness of the aftermath. The bruises. The blood. The tears.

He sent her a silent apology; she may not have been made for him, but she had made him something. Took what broken nothing he knew he was, and warmed the dead and blackened coal in his chest until it set aflame cradled between hands soft as silk.

He hadn’t anything else to grasp onto–literally or otherwise–that could keep him from falling to pieces himself. He was selfish, he knew, but it was moments like these–moments whose frequency he could no longer count–where he felt guilty. 

It had become a pattern. Whatever anger or hatred or resentment he felt towards the world became a burden for her to bear. He naively, cruelly, thought her responsible for keeping his own shadows in check. Use her golden touch, give that bright smile he hadn’t seen in who knows how long, save him with her stolen radiance. 

Only to realize time and time again that shadows were greedy, creeping and growing, laughing as they devoured the light, licking desperately at their fangs for more to rip, more to tear. More to destroy. 

And after his shadows had smothered her light, he’d work his way to forgiveness by finally letting her breathe, consciously or otherwise, believing it enough to erase the indiscretions of his own darkness. Give that snuffed out golden flame a little breeze to reignite the fire.

It was a pattern of which he was painfully aware. Still, it was a lesson that never seemed to stick, and he was reminded of their current predicament.

In the distance, the sun fell beneath the horizon, its glow swallowed up by the edge of the earth. The cityscape was less alive for it, fluorescent yellow-blues filling the glass spaces, too bright neons flickering on.

His focus was pulled back to her as a sigh left her lips. The pink-orange glimmer had left her now, and the blue film of the night had tinted her skin. 

How fitting. 

The weight on his heart settled, and burning disgust used the heavy bones as kindling. He wished the fire to turn him to ash from the inside out, but found it to be yet another selfish desire. She had no need for graying ashes. 

Though, following the discolorations that surely trailed further and deeper onto the canvas of her skin hidden from view–had she any use for him?

He hadn’t noticed he’d started crying until the brush of fingertips traced along the back of his hand, rubbing fallen tears from his knuckles. Turning, he watched as she reached beside her, where his palm lay flat against the roof, pulling his fingers into her own.

As he scanned her, face still turned away, he realized that the bruises blended in with the twilight. Even without the sun, even covered in shadow, she was beautiful. With her hand in his own, soothing at the skin with her thumb, and the evidence of his indiscretion fading with the darkening sky, he found himself finally able to breathe.

He looked to their interlocked fingers, grip turning fierce, desperate. Trying to convey all the words unspoken. She didn’t protest, opting instead to squeeze at his hand in some sort of placation, forgiveness, and he remembered exactly why they needed each other. Why they loved each other.

Maybe this time would be different. She didn’t need to keep the shadows at bay if she joined him in the darkness. He’d dragged her there too many times for her to keep her shine. But there were still stars in the night sky. She’d still shine, in a different way than before, but it was enough.

He didn’t need her golden. This was fine. This time things could be different. Would be.

He smiled, sighing, letting his own self-loathing melt away with the misty clouds now eaten up by blended purple-blues. And though she wasn’t looking, as if his thoughts were loud enough for her to hear, to listen, her own lips parted as a reminder. Though, the words had lost their edge.

“No talking.” 

“Right,” He breathed, “No talking.”

I’m sorry.