Latest Posts by samm1e13 - Page 4

Tumblr is odd because you’ll see a mutual post something really profound like “the birds still sing for those who listen” and you see them 5 minutes later saying something like “need to be pegged.grilled cheese style”

he actually my lil princess

reblog to headpat the one you reblogued from!!

the five stages of grief

feat: slightly canon adjacent ! shigaraki tomura / tenko shimura

warnings: angst. language. violence and mentions of injuries, major character death, implications to suicide, close to canon events as i could remember, 3.9k read!

cache notes: uhhhhhh this my offer for tomura's bday fic. IM SORRY

m.list

you thought you were experiencing the stages of grief out of order after the war. come to find out, your subconscious knew tenko died long before he physically left you.

DENIAL

— the action of declaring something to be untrue.

"tomura's being weird," spinner sounds upset, but when you look up from your gaming console, his face betrays no emotion. almost like he didn't say anything at all. his fingers push at buttons and he looks immersed in whatever mission that has his attention at the moment.

you want to say i know or something along that line— you can't help it. it's something that runs deep in your psyche to be an asshole back to him. he's never been too cordial with you, but spinner's respectful enough. if tomura likes you, there must be some reason he's keeping you around. the two of you have been toeing the line of being at each other's throats since you joined the group.

instead, you choose to grunt in response. "you're overthinking things," is what you choose to say. because for some god damn reason you can't bring yourself to even think to agree with spinner.

you end up running around in circles in your game, now distracted. what would spinner know about tomura that you don't already know? spinner might be his closest friend— he might believe that he knows tomura fairly well. but you know him on a more intimate level. sure, tomura doesn't tell you everything— you could thank all for one for that.

but what's said in the dark of night, on top of cheap pillows and underneath thin blankets is something you know for sure spinner doesn't.

tomura lies next to you, an arm slung over your waist lazily. he's knocked out cold, his nose twitches with every inhale of a snore. the bed sags underneath the both of you, the sheet is warm with shared body heat.

you can't help but watch his features as he sleeps. if he were conscious, he would've called you out for it. being weird— staring at him while he slept like some sort of creep.

but he also knows that you like to look at him. he'll never know why, but you're quiet when you do it and you keep comments to yourself. so he lets you. only speaking when you need to, or when he needs you to.

tomura stirs slightly, bringing his arm around your waist tighter. the weight and warmth of his skin against yours brings comfort, like always— but a slight twinge of unease.

you have to blink to clear your head. spinner's words are not getting to you. he doesn't know what he's talking about. tomura still looks the same to you, he still acts the same. the tension was subconscious.

"you're thinking' about something," tomura's voice is low and still extremely heavy with sleep. it startles you, but his grip around you tightens when you jump. your cheek warms with the push of his voice. "what are you thinking about?"

your teeth pull at the seam of your lip. normally, the silence would mean you're simply just thinking about what to say— and to be honest, you are. but there's hesitation in this silence, which causes him to open his eyes ever so slightly. he can barely make out your silhouette in the darkness, but he knows you're still looking at him.

"you'd tell me if something was changing, wouldn't you?"

it's tomura's turn to hesitate.

you try to ignore it. "you'd tell me if something was different, right?"

tomura's eyes finally adjust to the darkness and he can make out your expression more clearly. the furrow of your brow and the heaviness set in your eyes. it's such a vulnerable look on you, it's not a look he sees very often.

he forces himself to swallow. "nothing's changing, promise."

"promise?"

in the darkness, tomura doesn't see you lift your hand until he feels your fingertip graze along his cheek. the pressure is gentle, feather-light; reverent almost. you trace the grooves that the scars have made on his features like they are a road map. the destination changes every time, but you follow it with such enthusiasm every single time. tomura's come to accept it, and over time has learned to lean more and more into it.

your touch seems to soften, and in return tomura softens as well.

"i promise."

ANGER

— can sometimes function as a coping mechanism, providing a sense of control or a way to express frustration in the face of helplessness or disbelief.

"this is fucking stupid, tomura," you hiss out while taking an aggressive seat beside him. the motion kicks some dirt up, tomura ignores how some of it lands on his shoes. he keeps his eyes trained on gigantomachia as the behemoth sleeps. in another hour and a half, the two will start fighting again and you will force yourself to follow.

"don't say that," he mutters back. his fingers are carefully bending and twisting a twig into odd shapes, challenging it to break even though it's a fairly young clipping. there's plenty of twigs to choose from littered along the ground around the two of you. when this one finally breaks, tomura will just move onto the next one.

"well, it is," you counter. "you've barely made a dent in the progress. he's not weakening. ujiko is just stringing you along."

tomura's head tilts to stare at you out of his peripheral. he really doesn't want to fight with you on this. you were there when the group got warped to the lab, you heard the entire deal. you know his entire stance on the situation. he doesn't know if this is the lack of sleep talking or the lack of eating— but he's explained it how many times?

"ujiko is not stringing us along, [y/n]. how many times do i have to tell you this?" tomura says. his fingers finally snap the twig between his fingers and he tosses it a couple feet away in front of him before reaching for another at his feet. this one breaks much easier when he bends it. "it's going to work out in the end."

your elbows dig into your thighs as you lean forward. chewing on the inside of your lip, you mutter a bitter sounding "doubtful" and keep your gaze off of him.

there's tension between the two of you. there are inches in between the two of you but you've never felt more far apart.

when's the last time you've touched him? since tomura's held you in his arms? when was the last time the two of you lied face to face in bed together and just giggled about silly things you've seen online. you want to reach out and touch him but something inside of you refuses to. would he even feel like the tomura you were used to?

muscles and scars aside, would he feel like tenko?

you don't realize just how heavy your shoulders feel until his eyes finally meet yours fully, and he looks you up and down. your eyes burn and you realize you've been glaring at his side profile for the past couple of minutes of terse silence. something bitter and harsh has been simmering low in your gut for a while.

"this is more than machia, isn't it?" tomura asks in a low tone. there's a warning laced in between each syllable, you'd be dumb if you didn't notice the tone shift. but when do you not challenge tomura? he will deny it until the day he dies that it's one of his favorite things about you.

however, it is AFO's least favorite thing about you.

tomura still continues to fight with enabling this kind of behavior, or just not engaging at all. AFO tells him that you're a problem. a hindrance. you can't be trusted. you're going to do something big and take him away from his goal and everything is going to go to shit because of you.

tomura's known you for how long? he's seen you change in so many ways. you've burned through so many costumes, you've cut your hair in so many gas station bathrooms. there's a certain twinkle in your eye whenever you look at him that's never changed.

tomura hasn't seen that sparkle in months.

tomura hasn't seen so much aggression behind your eyes since the day you two met. you clearly don't audibly make it known, but you're upset with him. why else would you glare at him like that? why else would you look at him like he's not the same person at the moment?

it it because he's not?

maybe somewhere deep inside of you, you've already figured it all out. you just haven't pieced together all the parts yet. tomura isn't sure that your denseness is a blessing, or a curse in disguise.

tomura is still silent in front of you. the longer your gaze is deliberately met by his, the stronger the feeling of hate bubbles in your gut. your hands clench and unclench at your sides and your knuckles ache with tension. is this tomura you're feeling hate towards? surely it's not. you've been mad and angry at tomura before, yes.

but you've never hated him.

"this better be worth it," you manage to hiss out. your teeth grit so hard you can hear them squeak when they grind against each other. you force yourself to stand and move— away from him, away from him. white hot tears are beginning to well up, your eyes are burning and you'll be damned if you let him see you cry.

somewhere inside of you tells you tomura would comfort you if you did start crying; but a larger part of you tells you that you're wrong. why would he comfort you if he were the source of the tears? why would he apologize for the pain he had caused when that was the plan from the start?

BARGAINING

— attempt to negotiate or make compromises.

you had a violent realization when the tides had turned in the final war. aside from being aggressively pinned into the dirt, the fact that you were so easily overwhelmed in a matter of moments had your head spinning in ways that the concussion you were given didn't.

you smelled and tasted iron. there was blood pouring from your nose and mouth contributing to the taste and and scent, and the blood loss was starting to make you delirious. you were seeing double. there was a knee pushed between your shoulder blades and your wrists were being sliced open practically with how tight the cuffs were.

spinner's voice crackled in your ear. "[y/n], shigaraki needs help—"

he's cut off and racked with coughs and sputters. you try to ignore the stabbing pain in your spine, your cheek pressed into the gravel. the rocks are being pushed so hard into your skin that you know there will be indents. "what's wrong with tomura?"

when spinner doesn't answer, your heart practically throws itself against your rib cage. there's ringing in your ears, drowning out the rest of the screams and shouts of other villains and heroes fighting around you. drowning out the voice of the hero above you that only shoves his kneecap further into your back once he feels you squirming underneath him.

you didn't want to admit that you were right when the heroes split everyone up that something would go wrong. you no longer had eyes on tomura; and he to you. though you were sure he wasn't thinking in the same sense that you were when it all happened. was that part of their plan? to separate tomura from you?

you don't care that the last interaction with him was a screaming match. you don't care about the selfish words that came out of your mouth, or the cold tone he had used on you. or that tomura didn't look like tomura at all. didn't even resemble tenko either.

"spinner!" you practically scream into the dirt. the tears fall freely from your eyes but you don't have it in you to acknowledge them. they feel like fire when they fall, mixing with the blood and dirt already embedded in your skin into some grotesque mess around your mouth. "iguchi!"

your mind races. not a single thought connects properly, your body buzzes with new motivation to get out. the scream that leaves your mouth is raw and so painful that even the hero above you pauses with the force of his restraints. you can feel your quirk starting to overload your senses, clogging the sensors in your body with power and strength that it cannot handle.

"shuichi," your voice does not sound like your own. your forehead meets the dirt because you think you can reach him with your voice through the ground. "where is tenko?"

you want to believe that spinner had just run into a little problem and was just letting you know that tomura needed backup to finish the plan. you want to believe that he just needed help for a big finish. tomura would reach out to you personally if things went wrong, wouldn't he? he still cared about you like that, didn't he?

tomura had AFO's strength now. he was more than capable of holding his own; there's no way he needed actual help. there's no way, right? there's no way.

how would you even get there in time to help him? what higher being do you need to plea to in order to get you to tomura's side before something worse happens? would that supreme being even listen to you? were you so beyond saving that not even god would help you save the one you loved? or was that privilege only reserved for heroes?

your quirk was draining your stamina. you were feeling weaker and weaker; the idea of begging to god was sounding more and more like a good idea.

anything to get to tomura.

even with your vision gaining the vignette— darkening more and more as the seconds passed. you could not feel the oxygen going in through your mouth or leaving through your nose in short, harsh puffs. you'd do anything.

you'd do anything to see tenko again.

DEPRESSION

— a common mental health condition characterized by persistent sadness, loss of interest, and other symptoms that can significantly impact a person's ability to function.

the next time you see spinner, he is dressed in orange. it matches yours, your numbers are far apart but you are treated the same. it's mid spring in the courtyard, the sunlight feels like it should burn your skin the longer you stand out in it.

this time outside is mandatory. you'd rather still be in your cell— away from the cherry blossom scent, away from the petals that fall so delicately onto the asphalt.

away from the harshness of spinner's gaze the moment his eyes find yours.

your hair had been trimmed short. you tried to wrap it around your throat at one point so the orderlies buzzed it all off a week after you had been thrown into prison. the bags under your eyes have darkened over the months. you've been to solitary more than once after your night terrors had turned violent and you tried to attack your cell mate.

spinner doesn't look any better than you do. his actions are fueled by rage as he crosses the courtyard to stand in front of you.

"he's gone," his voice is full of hurt and pain. as if your shoulders weren't heavy enough, the weight of his tone adds more pounds that you decide to selflessly take on. "everything he fought for, [y/n]."

you're far past feeling anything at this point. you know what the media is painting tenko as. what they're painting the league as a whole as. what could you do about it? there was only so much that you could attempt with eyes on you at all times and a trigger itching to be pulled if you moved too fast.

"he didn't sign up for this."

"i know," your voice is dull and almost lifeless. you don't have the balls in you to meet his eyes at this point anymore. you've admitted to yourself that spinner was right all those months ago when he first noticed something was off with tenko.

"he died a hero, [y/n]!" his voice raises.

you don't know if he was talking more to you, or himself.

"i know," your voice repeats like a broken record. it breaks on the last syllable and both you and spinner cringe at the sound of it.

"we could've— should have done something," he forces out. you can audibly hear him swallow and your own throat mirrors the noise as you swallow a painful sound of your own. "to save him. he should've destroyed society. he could've changed the world."

your voice is barely audible when you speak next. you blink back tears, but they end up falling anyway. "i know."

ACCEPTANCE

— learning to live with the loss and finding a way to move forward, even though the pain may still linger.

the tip of your boot meets a tuft of grass. the grave in front of you has not been taken care of, there's moss and weeds that line the cement. you can still see the faint outline carving of his name, however.

tenko shimura.

even though there's no remains underneath the gravestone, this isn't his official burial spot— but this is your spot for him.

only a select amount of people know about this spot. your parole officer, mr compress— spinner. the three remaining league members still alive. they don't question the location. they come, give their moment of silence and leave.

"i feel like i should leaves flowers or something this time," you say to the empty air around you. your hands clench around nothing in the pocket of your hoodie. you kick at the tuft of grass again and sigh to yourself. "you hated flowers."

there's a tree that offers some shade a little off to the side. you're surprised that it's still standing, surprised that the gnarled old bark still tells stories to people who won't appreciate them. the roots are as old as time. the branch you fell off of when you were younger still hangs low and off kilter from it snapping under your weight.

it's been years since the war. you were lucky enough to finally get put on house arrest after a good couple of years. your parole officer sits in a car just a couple yards away— waiting. watching. though he knows you won't make a run for it. you've been on a streak of good behavior since gaining the privilege of visiting your makeshift grave for tenko.

"i uh…" your hand rises and rubs at the back of your neck in an awkward fashion. your hair had been kept short— a turning point. a way of admitting that you've changed; that times have changed. "i apologized to iguchi. finally."

that he was right. he saw the signs before you did.

"i miss you," your teeth pull at the corner of your mouth. you know you won't cry. you feel like you should— for the past few times you've visited you've ended your visits early due to the sobs that have racked through your body. "iguchi's right. you were a hero to us."

as soon as the words leave your mouth you hate how they sound.

"you are a hero, i mean. you're my hero. our hero."

yeah, it sounds cringe. awkward and unfamiliar in your throat. it's the truth, you've known it for years now. you realize you don't say those words out loud enough— that's why they feel so… weird. coming out of your mouth.

you make a promise to say it out loud more often.

the tip of your boot meets the concrete gravestone in front of you again in a lingering touch. you offer a final sniffle, the only sign you give that you're about to let go of your emotions. "until next time, yeah? promise it won't be months from now."

you turn on your heel and shove your hands further into the pocket of your hoodie.

"promise."

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

some drawings i made for tomuras birthday ☺️☺️ happy birthday princess ❤️‍🩹

DRESS PRESENTATION!

keigo takami (hawks) x reader smau, model au

an: more of a teaser than a trailer.. sorry. formatting sucks but we deal w it.

tag list: @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @seijuroww

dividers from: @saradika-graphics

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BELOVED TOMURA 💕

Happy birthday shigaraki tomura<3

are you normal or does the realisation of waking up and having to live another day make you cry before you’ve even left ur bed

L.O.V.E

🎮 tomura shigaraki x fem!reader smau

a strangers/online friends to lovers university au

masterlist / going home with tomu / streamers, musicians & 2 adults

main menu;

level ten; going home with tomu

cw; sorta kinda angst? i mean it’ll probably make you a bit sad, soft tomu with drunk reader, light cursing, very long interaction between tomura and keigo, some explaining that hopefully covers any plot holes or confusions, final level of game one before we move on to game two, another long ass written part with no texts/ tweets, wc; 2.9k

ironic i’m posting the last chapter of the first part on his birthday, happy birthday tomura! 🩵🎂

“take me home tomu?” the tears are warm against your cheeks as you wait for him to answer you. tomu is knelt down in front of where you sit, his eyes hold an emotion neither of you want to think about, it’d hurt more if you did.

“yeah y/n, i’ll take you home.” he stands to his full height before bending down to help you. your feet stumble beneath you, and tomu has to steady you with his hands on your waist.

“can you walk?” his hands flex on your hips, his body tensing as your palms meet his torso.

“hmm, no.” you fall forward into him, arms moving up around his neck while your face lands on his chest and he sighs, contemplating for half a second, before he moves and picks you up.

“tomu!” you squeal as he holds you close to him, one arm under your knees and the other around you back. your arms wrap tighter around him as you nestle closer to his warmth.

he looks down at you, eyes widening in surprise when he finds you already looking at him. your eyes are soft, and he’s shocked when your hand moves to slide along his jaw and cup his cheek.

“you’re so pretty tomu.” your sentence is followed by a kiss on his jaw and his grip tightens around you. 

he whispers a thanks as your head falls to rest on his shoulder and he carries you to his car.

“let’s get you home.”

the drive is silent, you’re laid out in the passenger seat, body positioned to face tomura, one of his hoodies covering you. you’re so still he would almost think you were sleeping if it weren’t for the little mutters spilling from your lips.

“thank you tomu.” his gaze flicks to you for a second to find your eyes closed, a soft sigh leaves him, before he focuses back on the road.

it’s quiet again for nearly the rest of the drive, until he turns down your street.

“have i told you how pretty i think you are, tomu?” he looks at you as he comes to a stoplight, only to find your eyes on him and he blushes.

“uh, yeah you mentioned it earlier.” he continues to look at you while you stare at him before the light turns green and he starts driving again.

“well, it’s true so you’re welcome.” you smile and then giggle while letting your eyes flutter close. he’s pulling into your apartment complex a few minutes later, parking the car, he focuses on you again.

“okay y/n, we’re here. you gotta work with me, alright?” he waits for a response as he unbuckles the both of you, you don’t move or say anything.

“y/n?” again no response, merely the rise and fall of your chest and shoulders as you breathe softly.

“flow- y/n?” he catches himself, he’s not sure if you’re actually asleep or how drunk you really are. there’s a chance that you might remember it if he calls you by shigs’ name for you, then he’d really be fucked.

he doesn’t know why he doesn’t just tell you, there’s nothing wrong with you knowing. in fact, he thinks he might love the idea of you knowing. his anxiety gets the better of him and he begins to think you’d prefer him as shigs over him as tomu, or vice versa, so he supposes that may be the reasoning behind not wanting you to know.

he thinks about coming up with his own nickname for you as tomu, but you haven’t done much that would give him anything good, aside from spending the last few weeks working on the project in class and at the library. though there was the day the campus library had been closed and you suggested working in the park, that day painted you in a new light. he liked seeing you get distracted by the flowers and the sky, maybe he could call you ‘sunshine’ or ‘cloud’, you certainly talked about both of those a lot.

he sighs, gently shaking your shoulder, he tries to rouse from your sleep. all he gets in return is a deep groan, and you rolling over before snuggling deeper into the seat. he lets out his own groan before deciding to just carry you, getting out of the car, he rounds the front to your side and pulls open the passenger door, before lifting your body into his arms once again. he lets out one final sigh and begins the trek to your apartment.

“come on hawks please answer the fucking door.” tomura mutters beneath his breath, he has you held against his chest still, head on his shoulder, trying to balance your weight against his body long enough to knock on the door. eventually, he settles for just kicking the damn thing and praying to whatever god is out there that your brother is still awake despite it being 3:40am.

“it’s damn near four in the morning, who the fuck is- oh.” keigo’s voice comes to a halt as his gaze settles on tomura standing there with you in his arms. tomura nearly drops you as his body sags in relief.

“hey hawks.” and just like the first time he saw tomura with you, keigo forgot what was happening.

“tomura?” keigo whispered and tomura nodded.

“yeah, it’s me.” his grip on your body tightened as he straightened up again, looking down towards you as keigo followed his gaze.

“oh shit, yeah come in.” keigo moved out of the way, holding the door open, and allowing tomura to carry you in.

tomura, having been in your apartment a few times already, carried you down the hall to your room, where he waited by the door for keigo to open it. once opened, tomura carried you to your bed, where keigo moved the covers for him to lay you down.

“why was she with you?” keigo asks as he covers you with the blankets, he grabs a tissue from the nightstand and cleans your face with it, wiping away the leftover makeup and dried tears.

“it’s a long story.” tomu murmured softly as he leaned against your dresser. keigo merely sends him a questioning look and tomu sighs.

“she called me, or rather she called shigs.” he whispers in case you decide to wake up at the wrong time and catch his confession.

“wait, you. you’re shigs?” keigo whispers in disbelief and tomura groans lightly, pushing himself off your dresser, he walks to your door and nods his head towards the living room.

“i’ll explain it, but away from her.” tomu says, walking out of the room with keigo following him.

“so neither of you knew you shared a class together, nor that you played games with each other?” keigo’s voice was full of confusion, none of this made any sense to him.

“basically. neither of us recognized the other's voice, which makes sense because i use different tones in different situations and a modulator when streaming. and we’ve never seen each other’s face either, i guess it just kind of happened this way.” tomura shrugs and leans back against the couch, head tilting so his gaze lands on the ceiling.

“so how’d you find out?” keigo’s gaze is firmly locked on where tomura sits, he’s slowly starting to understand the confusion, but now he’s questioning why tomura knows but you don’t, and why tomura doesn’t want to tell you.

“dabi.” is all tomu says as he sits back up to look at keigo, he catches the way he flinches, body tensing momentarily before relaxing.

“shit my bad.” tomura says and keigo shakes his head.

“it’s whatever, he’s your friend.” keigo mumbles, tomura frowns.

“i was your friend too.” tomura says confidently before freezing at keigo’s glare.

“yeah and you left with him. all of you except rumi. my sister tried to kill herself, my mom died, my boyfriend broke my heart, and i lost all my friends in the span of a few months. i needed you guys and you left. so fucking excuse me if i’m a bit cautious with you being around my sister.” keigo practically growls out and tomura’s entire body shivers at the intensity in his voice.

“i’m sorry.” tomura’s voice easily shifts into the quiet tone he uses when uncomfortable.

“yeah, whatever. so dabi told you about her then?” keigo questions.

“more or less, we had a smoke sesh after he picked up shoto. we were talking on the roof and he mentioned seeing you and finding out that y/n’s the sister you never introduced him to. and he said how she connected the dots that he’s my, or actually shigs, as she would know me, roommate. then he told me he got her twitter so he showed it to me, and that’s when i saw her face and told him that she’s also my project partner.” tomura explained while keigo nodded.

“okay, it’s slowly making sense. but she doesn’t know you’re you?” keigo’s back to being confused.

“no, she has no idea that i’m both her gaming buddy and project partner.” tomura agrees.

“then how did she end up with you as tomu if she called you as shigs. holy fuck this is hurting my brain.” keigo groans, tomura chuckles lightly.

“after the smoke sesh, both dabi and i went for a drive, separately. i subconsciously wound up parked across the street from the club, dabi also told me about that, and i was just sitting there when i saw her exit the building and lean against the wall.” tomu sighed deeply again as he began explaining what happened.

“where were her friends?” keigo asked, confused, rumi had never called him to pick them up so he assumed they just got an uber back to her and fuyumi’s place.

“spinner picked up toga and ochako, i’m pretty sure he brought them back here. i don’t know how kenzie got home, i assume dabi picked her up. who else was she with?” tomura looked keigo who sighed.

“i don’t think dabi picked up kenzie, he was at our- the abandoned park, i saw him. he tried talking to me but i left. rumi should’ve also been with her.” keigo looked at the ground, elbows on his knees as his head rested in his hands.

“oh.” tomura is quiet for a second, “i thought i saw fuyumi’s car there. i forgot that dabi said she was dating rumi, he doesn’t bring it up much. but if they’re living together that would explain why they could only have his mom stay with them.” he finished.

“wait, what happened with his mom? i was wondering why he had shoto with him?” keigo said.

“enji.” that’s all tomura needed to say in order for keigo to understand.

“oh. so rumi probably called fuyumi to pick her and y/n up, but lost sight of her when she went outside.” keigo reasons.

“probably. anyway, i watched, not like that don’t give me that fuck ass look bird brain.” tomura rolls his eyes, keigo snickers.

“she pulled her phone out and i thought she was going to call you, but she called shigs instead. i talked to her while sitting in my car. she said some stuff i don’t feel comfortable sharing with you.” he takes a deep breath when keigo interrupts him.

“she confessed, didn’t she?” keigo sighs at the way tomura’s body tenses. “figures that she would while drunk, that’s when she’s the most honest.”

“yeah.” tomura sighs. 

“anyway, she says something about calling you to come get her, but i was already making my way towards her. so i ended the call as shigs, and then knelt in front of her as tomura and she asked me to take her home, now here we are.” he shrugs again at the end of his explanation, both of them sighing as silence fills the space around them.

“that explains why she’s with you, but why don’t you want her to know?” keigo’s question makes tomura pause, that’s the question tomura has been asking himself all night.

why doesn’t he want her to know?

“i don’t know.” and he truly didn’t, there wasn’t a single good reason he could think of, except his anxiety fucking with him.

“i’m just scared, i guess.” tomura sighs again, it seems like all he can do is fucking sigh.

“of what?” keigo genuinely wants to know, they might not be friends anymore, but at one point he cared for tomura. and he cares about his sister more than enough to try and help her be happy.

“i’m scared of her preferring one version of me over the other, i guess.”

“do you honestly think she’s like that? does she treat you any differently in your two personas?” again keigo’s question makes tomura pause.

“no, she treats me pretty much the same. except, her tone of voice is different. with shigs, she’s relaxed, comfortable. i can hear the love in her voice, she acts like i make her feel at home. with tomu, she’s still realxed and comfortable. she sounds like i make her feel safe, but there’s also something in her tone that makes me think she’s developing feelings for me as tomu.” there’s a look on keigo’s face that tomura can’t tell if he likes or not.

“what, what’s with the look hawks?” tomura sits up straighter now.

“she told me about two weeks ago that she’s developing feelings for you as tomu and it’s really messing with her head because of her feelings for you as shigs.” keigo explains.

“what?” it’s tomura’s turn to be confused, you guys have been working on the project for about a month now. there’s another month before it’s due, and you’re almost finished with it. another week of working together and it’d be done.

“yeah man, she likes both shigs and tomura. you should just tell her.” keigo smirks.

“yeah, i’ll tell her when you tell touya.” tomura snarks back sarcastically.

“even if i wanted to, i can’t. he’s with kenzie now, remember?” keigo sneers and tomrua rolls his eyes.

“you act as if neither of you are polyamorous. don’t you remember that one time in high school you both got so drunk and confessed that if i was into dudes at all we’d be a throuple.” tomura smirks as keigo huffs.

“shut the fuck up, i’m supposed to be pissed at you. and besides, you’re fucking pansexual so suck my dick.” keigo’s eyes roll so hard tomura is worried they’d get stuck.

“nah, i’m good. thanks though.” tomura laughs. this was nice, hanging out with his old friend.

“that still doesn’t explain why you won’t tell her.” keigo redirects the conversation back to before.

“i’m just not ready to. my grandma just died a week ago and her funeral was today, i just don’t think i’m ready for y/n to know the truth.” tomura sighs.

“shit, nana passed? i’m sorry to hear that tenko.” keigo’s voice is gentle, he knows that name could set him off but he wants him to know he truly means it when he gives his condolences.

“thanks keigo.” tomura means it sincerely when he speaks keigo’s real name for the first time that night.

“listen, i won’t say anything to my sister until you’re ready, but just don’t go breaking her heart, okay?” keigo sighs and then stands as he looks at the clock on the wall, 4:50am.

“yeah about that, i think i already did.” tomura mumbles, keigo simply sighs deeply as if he already knew.

“one last question, who all knows besides me that you’re shigs and tomrua?” keigo looks at tomura who still sits on the couch.

“dabi knows, ochako and himiko know, kenz knows i’m shigs but not that i’m tomu, and i’m assuming that dabi will probably tell shoto in case he wants y/n to baby sit again. oh, and she doesn’t know that we were friends in high school.” tomura explains and keigo hums.

“okay well, you can crash here for a couple hours if you want, i gotta be at work at seven so i’m just going to start getting ready now.” keigo stretches as he speaks.

“thanks, but i should probably get home. if you saw dabi at your place then he’s probably going through it and somebody should be there if shoto wakes up.” tomura stands, stretching his arms with a sigh.

“yeah, true. i hope he’s adjusting to living with you guys. if you need anything, you can always ask. i have a feeling we’re going to be in each other’s lives a lot more again.” keigo leads the way to the door.

“yeah, thanks again keigs.” tomura follows behind him.

“anytime tenko, anytime.” keigo opens the door for him to walk out.

“she’s going to be alone when you go to work right?” tomura suddenly asks, keigo nods.

“you mind if i come back over with shoto later? as tomu of course.” he meets keigo’s eyes.

“nah, i think she’d like that. she already loves shoto and he’d help keep her busy.” keigo smiles.

“alright, cool. i’ll be back in a few hours then.” tomura smiles as he steps into the hall.

“sounds good man.” keigo nods and tomura waves as he walks away to the elevator.

“fuck little sis, what have you gotten us into?” keigo sighs as he closes the door.

level ten; going home with tomu completed!

one achievement unlocked; game one finished!

tag list; [open]

@nkox, @dumbassbrigade, @va-3, @kodditty, @personally4runa

mutual tags; @shigarakislaughter, @chaoslibra, @sexylexy12

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happy birthday

Chapter 06.

♡ twenty three

♡ rivals to lovers / fake dating

♡ cw / tw : Play fighting, talks of drinking

"Oi dumbass." Katsuki huffs as you look up from where you were seated on the couch, scrolling through your phone,

"Don't call me that stupid." You grin, tossing your phone to the side and getting up. "What's up buddy?"

Katsuki scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Grab the chilli powder. Top shelf. On the left. Far left." He instructs and you raise an eyebrow.

"Ordering me around? How rude."

"Not helping me make dinner? I think that makes you, the rude one here."

"I'm the guest!" You gasp, placing a hand on your chest, in mocking offence.

Katsuki scoffs. "Uh huh. Well my hands are full of batter. So if you would rather be doing the dirty work I would be glad to wash them and sit on the couch." 

He grins, moving his batter covered hands towards you, making you shriek and stumble back.

Katsuki cackles, stepping forward and sticking his hands out, chasing you around his kitchen with his dirty hands.

"Okay okay!" You shout, sides hurting from the running and all the laughing. "I'll grab you the chilli powder!! Just please! Mercy!" 

Katsuki slows to a stop and grins triumphant. "I won then."

"A draw."

"Nah I won that one."

"Nah I'd say it was a draw."

"You'd say wrong cause I won."

You shake your head and trudge back into the kitchen, reaching for the chilli powder and along with Katsuki's supervision, adding it into the batter.

"Thanks." He mumbled under his breath, rolling his arms, pulling a crick out of his shoulders as he got back into cooking you both dinner.

Your eyes stay trained on his skilled hands as they work, watching each muscle flex under his warm skin. His body looked warm - buzzing with blood and nitroglycerin… you wondered how his skin would feel under your fingertips and the palms of your hands.  

"You're staring." Katsuki says in a matter of fact tone, snapping you out of your train of thought.

"Since when were you able to cook, Bakugo?"

He paused and turned to frown at you, raising an eyebrow at you. "Are you sure you paid any attention to me during highschool? We lived in the same fucking dorms for three years? Didn't I cook for the whole damn class on multiple occasions?" 

You wave your hands in front of your face and shake your head, "Not what I was asking. Like- why?"

"Why what?" He mumbles, going back to cooking.

"Why did you learn to cook?"

"Why not?"

"Bakugo."

"What?"

You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow.

He sighs and taps his foot against the tiled floor.

"I uh... I know you won't believe me but I was a difficult kid to control growin' up," 

You snort and Katsuki rolls his eyes, 

"Yea, real funny. I caused my old hag a lot of fuckin' stress when I was younger..." 

He paused. 

"I probably still do… all this hero shit and comin’ home banged up... ahem. Anyways. My old hag thought I needed a healthy outlet for the- and I quote, 'Crappy ass anger in you.'" 

He shrugged, walking over to the sink and washing his hands, 

"And she decided cooking would be the best outlet. I didn't care much when I was younger. Cooking... playing the fuckin' drums. All shit that would take me away from training to be the number one... but I can't lie..." 

Katsuki sighed, 

"It's not a bad skill to pick up. Especially when dunce face and the rest of the fucking losers, decide they want to eat something I cook for them when their blasted out their fuckin' minds."

He shrugged.

"'Sides. Why go to a fancy ass place, waste fuckin' money, gas, time and have the fuckin' media hound your ass when you can cook the shit yourself?"

And see the way your face lights up when I present it to you.

Katsuki shook his head.

Stupid Eijirou and his dumb romance ideas. Get out of my head!

"Huh. Never took you for a sap Bakugo." You hum, grinning when Katsuki pauses,

"THE FUCK? I'M NOT NO FUCKIN' SAP-"

"Eyes on the stove blondie! Don't want our dinner burning on us! That'd be on you." You poke at his chest, leaning in, your eyes flickering to meet his lips before you flash a grin at his flushed face, stepping out of the kitchen, and into the bathroom.

What the fuck.

What the fuck was that.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT.

Katsuki gripped his shirt, bunching it into a fist as he tried to breathe, his heart throbbing against his ribcage as his other hand reached for the counter, trying to hold himself upright.

He could still feel your warm hand, pressing against his skin. You were so close, he could smell your shampoo and count the blemishes on your face and - shit did you lick your bottom lip too? 

"What the fuck..."

-

"Oi! Stupid! Are you ready? Hurry up before I press play!" You shout from Katsuki's bed. You were curled up in your pajamas, one of his pillows sitting on your lap as you stared at the TV screen in front of you.

"Gimmie five dumbass!" Katsuki shouted from his bathroom.

If you had told yourself three months ago that you'd be sitting in Katsuki Bakugo's bed right now, eating his snacks and curling up with one of his pillows - you would've laughed, spat at your feet and probably cursed your whole family generation - past, present and future for even suggesting something so damn stupid.

But the unofficial "date" you had at the bar with him - it tore something down between you both. Maybe you never really hated him in the first place.

Maybe you said you did because you were scared of telling him that you didn't. You were scared of what he might've said.

You definitely hated that thought.

Regardless, it was obvious that both of you were slowly beginning to open up to each other, the snarky remarks lost their malice and began a sort of... love language? 

Strangely enough.

Gross.

The glaces of hate had dissolved into glances of longing.

Yuck.

He had even held your hand, when you were much too drunk to walk let alone hold yourself up.

Ick.

His palm was warm, slightly calloused. But comforting.

He was comforting.

This shit is so fucking corny [Name]. Snap the fuck out. He's supposed to be your rival. Not your lover.

"You done spacing out?"

You yelped at the sound of his voice.

"Don't just do that!" you shook your head and placed a hand on your chest. 

"Right..." Katsuki snorted, moving to sit next to you. "What did you put on?"

"Scream?" You shrugged as Katsuki reached over to grab a handful of your snacks, ignoring your quiet 'HEY!' as he shoves the food in his mouth.

"A classic." He says, mouth full.

-

"That was fun Bakugo." You smiled as he pulled the door open for you.

"Yea?" He tilts his head to the side and a small smile tugs on his lips. "'M glad... you liked the food too right?"

You hummed, nodding as he helped you out of his car. "We should do that more... only if you want though!" You stammered nervously, a warm flush creeping up your cheeks as you nervously scratched the back of your head.

Katsuki nodded. "Sure... Yea... Okay. Why not."

You nodded walking to your door. "Cool... Cool..." You cough awkwardly and scratch the back of your head. "Thanks for dropping me off Bakugo."

Katsuki nodded, pulling the front door of his car open. "Yea. Sleep well... Or whatever." He mumbled under his breath. 

You pulled your front door open.

Katsuki shoved his key into the ignition.

-

"Chirst Katsuki. Pull yourself together." He groaned, tugging on his ashen blond locks as he shuffled into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

Red eyes scan over his bed, the sheets messy and crumples, wrappers overflowing in the small trashcan next to his bed.

He was going crazy. Maybe he was dying? Is this what it feels like to be dying? Dying at twenty three - would you show up to his funeral? Cry and hold his body? Would you miss him if he was gone? Maybe he was going crazy. 

These are crazy thoughts Katsuki.

“You’re going insane Katsuki. Snap the fuck out of it.”

He let out a groan, sitting on his bed and rubbing his hands over his face. “Fucking hell…” 

Katsuki reached for the pillow you were holding onto the whole night.

Probably smells like them now.

Katsuki paused.

He lifted the pillow up to his face and inhaled. His shoulders dropped and he felt the tension leave his body. Was this creepy? Probably. But damn did he need this. 

He sighed and flopped back in bed, curling up against the pillow.

And, pretending that he was holding you - Katsuki Bakugo fell asleep.

-> Masterlist

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ideal blunt rotation

something silly (sorry i just woke up like two hour ago but im still sleepy)

i’m very much in the need of spending money, so i’m planning an ear stack now.

Anomaly (Chapter 1) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Ever since he was rescued by All Might from All For One, Shimura Tenko's led a charmed life - except that he's a beta, in a society where alphas are privileged, omegas are prioritized, and betas are an afterthought. But when Tenko finds himself investigating a series of designation-swaps that have devastated the lives of the victims, he comes face to face with the terrible truths at the heart of society's placid, inflexible structure, and the enigmatic villain who's bent on exposing it all. The one they call Love's Executioner - otherwise known as, you. (cross-posted to Ao3)

dividers by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1

Divorce epidemic: Small town in Okayama Prefecture experiences 200% increase in no-fault petitions since previous reporting period Designation dysphoria? Psychologists in Hyogo Prefecture report an increasingly prevalent set of delusions Google search: can designations change The urban legend that just won’t die: No, you can’t change your designation. Google search: my designation changed Suicide rate spikes in Kagawa Prefecture; threefold increase over the course of a month Government forms task force to investigate reported declines in suppressant effectiveness From Omega to Alpha: Chart-topping idol tells all about stunning transformation!

Google search: change designation back

Tenko’s already late when he wakes up, and the fact that he Decays his alarm clock out of spite doesn’t improve things much. He has a hell of a lot to do before work. He knew that last night, but that didn’t stop him from playing League of Legends until three am with Spinner and Twice, and now he’s paying for it. Tenko changes into street clothes, stuffs a frozen waffle into his mouth, and books it out the door.

He’s back before he can even make it to the elevator, because his medication reminder starts freaking out. He forgot his suppressants, like he does about every other day, and he probably wouldn’t take them at all if he didn’t have an alarm set. Tenko thinks it’s bullshit that he has to take suppressants. He’s a beta, not some alpha or omega who’s constantly at risk of going into heat or rut and sending the office into meltdown mode. There’s no reason for him to take this stupid pill every day.

But Tenko’s a beta, and it’s not worth it. He’ll get busted if he fails a blood test, same as anybody else. He swallows the damn thing dry, grabs another frozen waffle, and races back to the elevator.

He checks his phone on the way and sees that he forgot to log off the hero network again, which means his screen is covered in expired alert notifications — most of them yellow, a few of them orange. He swipes them away rather than reading through them. Angsting about everything that happened while he was off duty is All Might behavior, and Tenko’s number one rule for maintaining work-life balance is taking note of what All Might does and doing the exact opposite.

For off-duty behavior, at least. When Tenko’s out in the street, he’s on duty, and that means that when he hears the screech of metal on metal followed by hideous crunching noises and car alarms going off, he picks up the pace and runs a block and a half to get there first. Just like All Might would do.

It’s a car accident. Two cars, one flipped, one wrapped around a streetlight, and at least one person’s been thrown clear. Tenko drops his backpack and goes to them first, assessing the basics for their injuries. They aren’t breathing well — their chest is rising and falling lopsided — and the air around them is flooded with alpha pheromones and panic. If it was some alpha bullshit that caused this accident —

“Help,” the alpha gasps, and Tenko’s about to tell her he’s still assessing when she elaborates. “My husband — in the car — he’s pregnant —”

Great. Nobody stays calm when babies are involved, and Tenko’s still the only one on the scene. He looks around for the nearest bystander, orders them to call emergency services, and addresses the crowd that’s gathering. “Anybody here with life support training?” A couple of hands go up, and Tenko assigns roles at random. “You, grab an AED. Every store on this block should have one. You two, get over here. Get ready to start CPR.”

He waits for them to move, then races over to the car that hit the streetlight. Just like the injured alpha, the omega victim is flooding the scene, bad enough to make Tenko cough — but even as his eyes stream, his mind stays clear. He Decays the broken window on the passenger side and addresses the victim. “My name’s Shimura Tenko. I’m a pro hero and I’m here to help you.”

Most heroes are alphas with a few omegas mixed in, but All Might’s adamant that betas make the best rescue heroes, and Tenko agrees. Alphas and omegas are vulnerable to pheromone releases no matter how many suppressants they’re on, but Tenko could be surrounded by enough overlapping clouds of pheromones to choke an air purifier and still keep a clear head. Alphas make a situation volatile, omegas defer if there’s an alpha anywhere in the mix, even if it’s the wrong thing to do. For high-stakes rescue heroics, where lives are on the line, betas do it better than anybody else. It’s about all betas are good for.

If that’s all Tenko’s good for, he’ll take it. He does a visual assessment of the victim’s injuries — as much as he can with the way the car’s crumpled — then remembers there’s a second car. “I have to check the other victim. I’ll be right back,” Tenko says, and the omega seizes his arm. An alpha wouldn’t be able to resist what the omega’s putting out, but Tenko’s able to free his arm without trouble. “I’m not leaving. I’ll be right back. Count back from a hundred for me, okay? By threes. I’ll be back before you’re done.”

The driver of the second car is dead. They weren’t wearing a seatbelt and they’re crumpled against the windshield, but Tenko checks the brachial and radial pulses just to be sure. Is there anyone else in the car? He hears muffled crying, Decays the back passenger window, and peers in.

Fuck. There are kids. Two of them. Both buckled in, both bleeding, neither of them with crush injuries, which means it’s safe to get them out. Tenko Decays the door, too, then wedges himself into position to catch the first kid once their seatbelt’s off. The kid flops down into Tenko’s arms, and Tenko supports their head and shoulders, trying to figure out how to maneuver them out of the car.

“We’ve got him!” There’s an EMT out there, with a stretcher and another one coming closer. “Pass him out and get the other one!”

Works for Tenko. He wedges himself further into the car. The second kid is freaking out a lot worse than the other one, and Tenko realizes that this is going to be a more complicated rescue in a hurry. This kid’s quirk is active. And given that she looks to be about six years old, the likelihood that she can retract the claws sprouting from between her knuckles when she’s this scared is pretty low.

Tenko’s been a kid with a dangerous quirk. He knows the drill. “I’m going to get you out of there,” he promises. “I need you to do something for me first. Make an X with your arms like this so your claws stay pointed out. I’m going to unbuckle you —”

“I’ll fall!”

“I’ll catch you. That’s why I’m here.” Tenko knows better than to put on an All Might-style grin. “Cross your arms — perfect — and count to three for me. We’ll go on three.”

“One,” the girl sobs. “Two —”

Tenko Decays her seat, seatbelt and all, and catches her. He kicks out the window on the other side, passes her through it to another pair of EMTs, then crawls out the way he came in. By this point there’s an incident commander, somebody Tenko recognizes vaguely, and he heads her way. “What’s next?”

“We can’t get the victim out of that car,” she says. “His legs are crushed. It’ll be a miracle if he makes it to the hospital, but he won’t if they have to spend an hour cutting him out. Can you —”

“Tell them to get ready. I’ve got this.”

The victim’s got enough people comforting him that he doesn’t get mad at Tenko for leaving and not coming back, so Tenko ignores him and searches for a starting point. He needs to do this fast. Once the EMTs are in position, Tenko plants both hands on the hood and activates Decay at full strength.

He used to think his quirk was evil, that nothing good could come out of destruction, but he knows better now. There’s no such thing as a good quirk or an evil quirk. It’s about how you use it, and as Tenko uses his to free the omega victim from the totaled car and deliver him into the hands of the EMTs, he remembers all over again that his quirk is a good thing. Or at least it can be. Tenko sticks around until the ambulances have left, confirms that the cleanup crew don’t want him to get rid of the cars, and hits the road before the press can put in an appearance. He’s even later to work than he was already going to be, but he has a feeling his boss won’t mind.

There was never really a question about where Tenko would go after he graduated from UA — All Might’s agency, because nowhere else would take a beta hero and it was where he wanted to go anyway. Tenko should probably be a little less shameless about cashing in on the benefits of being raised as All Might’s ward, but he also knows All Might is pretty sensitive to his help being rejected, and after everything he’s done for Tenko, the least Tenko can do is make him happy by accepting a few perks.

Tenko’s a hero because of All Might. Tenko’s alive because of All Might. If All Might hadn’t killed All For One almost fourteen years ago, Tenko would still be under his thumb. Still thinking he was built to destroy, still carrying around Tomura as his name. Tomura. The one who brings mourning. Tenko remembers explaining his new name to All Might in the hospital after he was rescued, and he remembers how All Might’s famous smile shifted into a teeth-clenched grimace. You can pick any name you want, he said to Tenko. Except that one.

In the end, Tenko fell back on his old name, the one his parents gave him before they realized he was a beta and therefore a disappointment. What he did to his family is hard to live with, still. On his bad days, Tenko believes every word Sensei ever told him, and some part of him always will. The rest of the time, the rest of him knows better.

He’s barely set foot on the training floor in Might Tower before Twice tackles him. “Hey! Shimura! Saw you on the news —”

Tenko grimaces and breaks Twice’s grip. “I got out of there way before the cameras got there.”

“People were filming,” Spinner announces, putting Tenko in an instant headlock. All Might must have ordered them to jump him. “The HPSC reposted the video —”

“And it’s already been played ten thousand times!” Midoriya reports from somewhere far away from Tenko. His natural quirk is good for fuck all against Tenko, and All Might doesn’t want him using One For All against anybody but villains. “It’s excellent press!”

“Somebody died,” Tenko says. He winds Spinner with an elbow to the gut and twists free. “They shouldn’t put that on the news.”

“You should have become an underground hero if you wanted your exploits to stay off the news,” Tobita says. He’s keeping his distance, or else Tenko would bite the Twice clone that’s holding him and go kick his ass. “And if you’re going to do hero work in street clothes, you might want to put a little more thought into your look.”

Tenko finally shakes free of his friends and looks down at himself. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s tragic that you have to ask,” Tobita says, and sighs dramatically. “Then again, you are a beta. Maximizing attractiveness isn’t at the top of your priorities list.”

Tenko grits his teeth. “Are you sure you aren’t gay?”

“I’m waiting until I’ve found my mate. Then we’ll see.”

If Tenko talks to an alpha or an omega long enough, mating inevitably come up. It’s why he hangs out with betas when he can. Betas don’t talk about ruts, because they don’t have them, and they don’t talk about heats because they don’t have those either, and they don’t care about finding mates in general. Whatever the difference is between betas and everybody else, it strips away the desire to couple up and reproduce along with the fertility. Or at least it’s supposed to.

Tenko thought everybody felt the way he does and was just embarrassed to talk about it. It took him until a few months ago to realize that his fellow betas aren’t secretly yearning for a mate. It’s not an unspoken beta-designation thing. There’s legitimately something wrong with Tenko’s brain, something he’s never going to mention to anyone ever again. He doesn’t give a shit about having kids. It’s probably best for everybody if his quirk dies with him. But his stupid ass is out here yearning anyway, and yearning in the worst possible way. There aren’t even any female betas – betas are all male, and Tenko’s straight. Female alphas want omegas, and female omegas want alphas. Tenko and his fucking yearning are stuck together for the rest of his life.

Tenko doesn’t think about it very much. His life is good. He’s gotten really lucky, multiple times, so much that he could almost call his life charmed if he hadn’t stumbled into it after accidentally killing his family and being kidnapped and brainwashed by a monster. If yearning for a mate is the only thing that’s wrong with Tenko, Tenko has it pretty fucking easy.

All Might arrives, finally, and rescues Tenko from the middle of a pile of Twice clones, giving him a bone-cracking hug. “Well done,” he says, and lets Tenko go. “Gather ‘round, everyone. Today’s assignments are in. As you know, our agency is unique, and there are places for each and every one of your unique talents to protect and serve others!”

All Might’s agency used to just be him and his sidekick, Sir Nighteye. Sir Nighteye didn’t approve of All Might taking Tenko in — he called it letting in a stray — and All Might took it so personally that he turned letting in the strays into his agency’s entire policy. Almost everybody, from the heroes to the support staff to the PR department to the maintenance guys, is somebody who somebody else threw away. People like Twice, who went from the foster system straight to jail. People like Spinner, who grew up in a shit town that treats mutant-type quirks like trash. People like Magne, who’s trans, and Toga, whose quirk scares people, and even Tobita, whose failure to launch fast enough out of high school would have kept him from being a hero. Betas and omegas, people whose designations get them almost uniformly rejected from hero academies across the country, are the majority. The news calls All Might’s agency ‘eclectic’. The tabloids call it a freak show.

The hero community’s gotten used to it. All Might’s always fielding requests for team-ups or visits, so much so that he has to sort through them and pick just a few. Twice and Tobita get a PR visit — going to a foster home to meet the kids and talk about heroes and quirks. Spinner has a surveillance job, like usual, and Toga’s headed down to the hospital like she almost always is. Everybody else gets farmed out to other agencies, until it’s just Tenko and Midoriya and two pieces of paper in All Might’s hand.

He glances at one of them and sighs. “This was for young Todoroki, from Hawks, but unfortunately he’s, uh, indisposed.”

“Again? He was in heat two weeks ago,” Tenko says. He remembers — he got a bunch of horny texts from Touya, because Touya apparently forgets how to read when he’s in heat and thought he was sending them to Hawks or his other alpha fuckbuddy. “He’s making it up for more vacation time.”

“He’s not! Some people experience rapid cycling,” Midoriya, also an omega, pipes up. “It’s very difficult to control. He’s probably not having fun.”

“And everyone at my agency gets the same amount of vacation time,” All Might reminds Tenko. Tenko rolls his eyes. “No designation is privileged over the others here.”

No, but if Tenko took a week off of work just to fuck, everybody would have questions about that. “Which of us is getting sent to Hawks instead?”

“We aren’t able to meet that request,” All Might says. He looks at the last piece of paper. “Young Midoriya, you’ll stay here at dispatch. Tenko, you and I have been summoned to Shiroiwa, in Kagawa prefecture.”

That name sounds familiar. Tenko can’t remember why, but he’s never against an away mission. The fact that All Might hasn’t said what it is means it’s confidential, which means Tenko can lord it over Midoriya later that he got to do something cool while Midoriya minds the desk. “Sounds good.”

It’s eight hours to Kagawa by car, four and a half by Shinkansen, but in All Might’s jet, which All Might takes on long trips so he won’t bring traffic to a standstill, it’s a cool hour and a half. Tenko’s not at all interested in climbing the charts, but he has to admit that there are perks to being in the top 10. Like no crying babies on the plane, and snacks. Tenko’s frozen waffles this morning feel like a distant memory. He starts raiding the pantry.

“Tenko,” All Might says, and Tenko looks up. “I meant what I said. Your work this morning was exemplary. You should be proud.”

“I was just who was there.”

“I’m proud of you,” All Might says. “Even if you aren’t proud of yourself.”

He studies Tenko for a moment. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Let me try again. Something’s wrong. What is it?” All Might asks. Tenko shakes his head. “I’ve known you since you were eight years old, and lying’s not your strong point. What’s going on?”

There’s no way Tenko’s bringing this up to All Might. But he needs to tell All Might something, or All Might won’t let it go. Tenko picks a topic at random. “My phone yelled at me because I forgot to take my suppressants this morning. I’m sick of taking them.”

All Might’s expression shifts in sympathy. “Are you experiencing side effects? There are multiple brands —”

“No, they’re fine. I just don’t want them,” Tenko says. All Might raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a hypocrite. Alphas and omegas not taking theirs fucks them and everybody else over, but nobody suffers if I stop taking mine except some big pharma exec who won’t make money off my prescription. I shouldn’t have to blood test once a month at random like the alphas and omegas do if I’m not the problem. It’s bullshit and you know it.”

All Might sits down in the seat across from Tenko’s. “It’s true,” he says. “Alphas and omegas off their suppressants are a disaster. You’ve read your history. Society’s most significant advancements didn’t occur until after primitive suppressants were developed and distributed. Suppressants provide for a stable society.”

“Yeah, but —”

“And even knowing that,” All Might continues, “alphas and omegas don’t want to take them. Someone needs to set an example.”

“An example,” Tenko repeats. “I have to pop pills my whole life to set a good example?”

“If a rule applies to everyone, no one can claim they’re being unfairly singled out,” All Might points out. He steals a cookie out of the package Tenko just opened. “Betas frequently set a good example. You set one during your rescue today.”

“By doing something.”

“By proving it could be done,” All Might says. “Think about how an alpha or omega hero would have handled those victims and that scene.”

Tenko doesn’t need to think about it. He’s seen it. “Alpha commands,” he says. “And omegas do that weird thing where they’re, like — hitting on you —”

“Platonic seduction,” All Might says, which is one hell of a contradiction in terms. “These approaches both have something in common. What is it?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“No.” All Might eats another one of Tenko’s cookies. “Think about it. They have the same end goal as you did — a controlled scene, calm victims —”

“Except they’re doing it by force,” Tenko says. All Might nods. “You’re saying my way is better.”

“Yes,” All Might says. “Adding extra force to an already stressful scene increases the potential for chaos, particularly given the diverging reactions of each designation to those uses of force — and yet, the prevailing wisdom is still that heroes should use force in controlling a scene.”

“That’s not what you do,” Tenko mutters.

All Might smiles halfway. “I’m not an alpha.”

Everybody thinks All Might’s insistence on training beta and omega heroes is some weird fixation, because they can’t imagine All Might being anything but an alpha. But All Might isn’t an alpha. He’s a beta, just like Tenko is, so he knows it’s possible for a beta to be a hero. “Everyone assumes my ability to control scenes without force is unique to me. You proved that others can do it, too. That makes it much harder to ignore as the preferred strategy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Betas make the world go round, as usual,” Tenko says. He manages to grab one cookie before All Might eats the last one. “I still don’t want the pills.”

All Might sighs. “Are you unhappy with your designation, Tenko?”

“No,” Tenko says. He never envies alphas or omegas, except when he thinks about being alone for the rest of his life. “It’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Indeed,” All Might agrees. “But the fact that you’re a beta is why you’re on this mission and my successor is minding a desk.”

“Huh?”

“Here.” All Might picks up a folder and slides it across the table to Tenko. “I saw your expression. When I mentioned Shiroiwa, it meant something to you.”

“That’s the town where the suicide rate blew up,” Tenko says. “They think heroes should be investigating this?”

“At the moment, it’s not clear what this is,” All Might says. “No one will talk about what happened. It’s the opinion of earlier investigators that shame and distrust are keeping them quiet. They need to see people they can trust, who don’t provoke the sort of intense emotions that alphas and omegas do.”

Betas. “So we’re supposed to interview people about their dead relatives?”

“We’re supposed to interview anyone,” All Might says. “My presence will draw them out. Officially, I’m here to provide support and comfort in this trying time. It’s your job to talk to anyone who will speak and try to discern exactly what happened here. Prior to the first four suicides, which all occurred on the same day, Shiroiwa hadn’t seen a death by suicide in seven years. It’s hard to imagine there wasn’t a precipitating event.”

“Talk to people, figure out what happened,” Tenko says. “You sure you don’t want Midoriya?”

“People who are suffering need to feel listened to and understood,” All Might says. “As evidenced by how you brought so many people who’d previously felt invisible to the agency, the person in my agency best equipped to do that is you.”

Shiroiwa feels haunted. Tenko’s not superstitious, but there’s no other word for it. Something bad happened here, and he needs to figure out what it is so it can’t happen anywhere else. People are slow to talk. Tenko asks them how they’re doing, and it’s fifteen minutes of small talk before anything starts to come out. But once it does, Tenko starts to get a picture of things. Or at least where things started. Everybody who’s killed themselves attended a school festival the week before the first death.

“Did anything weird happen at the festival?” he asks, over and over again. “Or not weird. Even just something that stood out?”

Nobody has a good answer. It’s two hours into the event before someone tells Tenko what happened to some of the people who killed themselves. She’s weird about it, too. Embarrassed, even though she has her face covered. She beckons Tenko away from the others and keeps her voice low, so he has to lean in. “Their designations changed,” she says. “Alphas to betas, omegas to alphas, betas to — anything. Anybody to anything. You knew who it happened to. The scents switched on a dime.”

Designation switching is an urban legend. Or something that happens in porn. Tenko keeps nodding, anyway, and the woman keeps talking. “People who it happened to, they got shunned. Like it was contagious. Maybe it is. I don’t know.”

“Did everybody who got switched kill themselves?” Tenko asks, and she shakes her head. “Was there any pattern to who did or didn’t — or who was affected —”

“No kids,” the woman says. “It was a school festival. The place was covered with kids, but none of them got swapped. Only adults. And as far as who killed themselves and who didn’t — I don’t know. I don’t know why some of them survived it.”

“Can you point to anybody who did?” Tenko asks, and she points to herself.

Now he gets why she’s hiding. If they’re treating people with the switch like they’re contagious, then no wonder. “Come with me,” Tenko says, and she shakes her head. Her original designation and swapped designation don’t matter, but Tenko can’t tell what she is now. “If you talk to All Might, you can explain what you just told me, and we can stop this from happening again.

“Stop it? You don’t even know what started it.” The masked woman shakes her head. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” Tenko catches her arm. It doesn’t matter if she’s crazy — she’s the only lead, and if she got her designation switched, they can confirm it. Her hand closes over his and forces him to let go. “Look, if you won’t come explain, point to somebody else who got switched. Nobody’s going to believe this designation-switching thing without proof. You know that.”

She nods. Beckons Tenko closer again. “Look for Minami Mizuho, Motobuchi Tadakatsu, Shimizu Takako, and Hatagami Arisa. They were too embarrassed to talk. They sent me.”

“Thank you,” Tenko says. “If you’re right about this — what you just told me is going to help a lot of people. Even if it was hard to talk about.”

“It’s weird that it’s so hard to talk about,” the woman says. She’s about Tenko’s age, huddled inside a coat that’s too big for her. “Nobody can be quiet about designations most of the time. Except when they change.”

“Yeah,” Tenko agrees. “It’s probably scary.”

“Scary?”

“Yeah. Saying it makes it real.”

The woman thinks about it for a moment, then shakes her head. “It’s real enough for them,” she says. “Ask them.”

Tenko gets to it. Finds the people she named in the crowd, talks to all of them, and doesn’t remember until he and All Might are back on the plane that he never asked for his source’s name.

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @deadhands69 @minniessskii @lvtuss @xeveryxstarfallx @lacrimae-lotos @issaortiz @dance-with-me-in-hell @aslutforfictionalmen @evilcookie5 @stardustdreamersisi @warxhammer @handumb @f3r4lfr0gg3r @shikiblessed @baking-ghoul @cheeseonatower @agente707 @koohiii @atspiss

Category: Villain

shigaraki x afab!reader

tags: grinding, fingering, virginity loss (tomura's), more experienced reader, praise kink if you squint

warnings: this is a smut fic. | 18+ | MDNI / Ageless blogs DNI

wc: 2.2k

a/n: this is a character study wrapped in a smutty bow. Pre-MVA characterization. this is also my second time writing smut, pls go easy on me

happy birthday tomura baby <3

Tomura had been branded as a freak the instant he killed his entire family at only five-years old. It was a mark that stood stark against the surface of his pale skin, its burn traveling through every layer of skin and flesh, down to the bone. Even as a mere child, he was always treated like some sort of monster. The kind of guy you'd see coming and cross to the other side of the street. Someone you'd worry about following you home. A degenerate. A creep. A villain.

With All For One's guidance, he had learned to embrace these views of himself at a very young age. No one would ever help him, no hero or bystander. He was a villain, after all. And if he couldn't be anything but a disgusting villain, he might as well be the most disgusting villain in Japan.

His views changed when you stumbled into his life. At first, he didn't know how to react to you. To your kindness. You would tease him, call him cute. You were somehow capable of drawing out a softness in him—the part of him that wanted to pet every dog he saw out on a walk. The part of him that wanted to hold your hand. Parts of him he thought died with his family.

Growing up, Tomura was obsessed villains. The kind that killed and destroyed. This obsession was found in all forms of media; comic books, television shows, and as he soon found, porn.

The villain stereotyping for porn was…interesting. Brutal and careless, the kind of person who took, not gave. A selfish lover, if one could even use that word. Reality didn't always equal fiction. And Tomura was a real villain, forged in iron and blood, not an over exaggerated caricature of evil. He hated how soft he felt when he was with you. How softly he wanted to fuck you.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. He was a villain, someone who wanted utter destruction, not for selfish reasons, but for the betterment of society, for fucks sake. Villains were harsh. Cruel. Possessing a ruthlessness and violence that was incongruent with affection or tenderness. All media, all stereotyping, should have made him merciless. His pornographic counterpart would have you folded over, cruelly pounding away at your cunt in a mating press, uncaring and unconcerned about the possible effects of decay from where his hands pressed below your knees.

It wasn't just that he was scared of hurting you, it was that a fear that he'd become the thing everyone expected him to be—cruel, uncaring, selfish—and those traits would come out when he was with you. With the ones he loved. Your love for Tomura came easy. Getting him to love himself came harder.

It started slow on your insistence of his comfort—long make out sessions in abandoned buildings that left both your lips red and swollen and his cock straining beneath his boxers, a wet spot on the front as evidence of his arousal. He always felt guilty after; dark finger-shaped bruises from where he gripped your ass and thighs tightly, desperate to feel your skin even through his artists gloves. Slowly though, he began to realize that you didn't exactly mind, often guiding his hands exactly where you wanted them, admiring the marks he made in the mirror.

It was during one of these sessions where things got a bit heavier than normal. You were sat, straddled over his lap, his hands kneading your ass under the hem of your shorts, when you suddenly and involuntarily jerked, grinding into his dick, hard beneath his black pants. From the way you shuddered and moaned into his mouth, the friction must have gone directly to your clit.

"God—sorry," you gasped.

Sliding his hands up to your hips, Tomura guided you over his cock, rocking his hips into yours.

"Don't be," He panted into your mouth.

Your pussy was so warm through the fabric of his pants as you began to grind your clit over his length, hard against his thigh. You looked so beautiful like this—moans escaping your lips as your face contorted in pleasure. You looked like you wanted him to fuck you.

Suddenly he was twitching in his pants, hot, wet cum soaking the fabric of his jeans, a choked whimper escaping his mouth.

He couldn't hear anything over the sound of yours and his breathing, coming out in short, quick breaths, his heartbeat in his ears.

Tightening his grip on your waist, he looked up at you. You had a satisfied, almost smug looking smile on your face. Leaning in to kiss him again, you murmured against his lips. "Whatever you want to do, I trust you." Suddenly he wasn't what people thought of him. He was a villain, yes, but he was capable of things no stereotyped reflection of himself would be able to do. He could fuck you hard if he wanted. But softly? He was allowed to do that as well, and it didn't make him any less of a villain.

Placing his hand on your lower back, he turned and sat up, flipping you onto your back on the couch. "Can I finger you?"

Your pupils dilated, large and dark with want. "Please." He wished he wasn't wearing his stupid gloves, that way he could decay your shorts and underwear off for quicker access. He wished he could control his quirk better. He wished a lot of things. He let you unbutton them, helping you tug them down and off the rest of the way.

"Someone's impatient," you laughed, breathy, as you spread your legs, bent at the knee.

He felt his face flush even further, if that was possible. "Shut up."

Slowly, he slid his ring finger over your folds, relinquishing in the way you shuddered from the touch, not from fear of him, but out of anticipation. Desire. A craving only he could satisfy. He licked his dry, cracking lips, smiling as he slowly slid his ring finger in all the way, coating it in a wetness that clung to his skin. He didn't know it'd be so.. soft. Warm.

His middle finger, clad in the fabric of his glove, went in next. You opened so easily, evidence of your arousal. Arousal for him. He felt his dick twitch in his pants. Curling his fingers up, he felt a small sense of pride course through him at the way you gasped. He pistoned his fingers in and out, focused on on your sweet spot, a wet, squelching noise filling his ears, combined with your soft moans and keens. Just for him. Because of him.

He grinned as your whines increased in pitch and frequency, your hands coming up to pull him down into a kiss as you tightened around his fingers as you came.

He made sure to get condoms on the next supply run.

It was a miracle you both were able to find a mattress that wasn't piss or blood-soaked, covered in questionable stains, or torn in the middle. The two of you managed to sequester some time alone, adding onto the list of current miracles leading to this moment.

Shaking, Tomura's hands wrapped around the condom, the lubrication from it wetting and sticking to his palm and fingers as he unrolled it over his length. A million thoughts raced through his head. What if his dick was too small? What if you thought it was ugly? Could a dick be ugly?

You were patiently watching him from on the bed, legs bent to the side. From the way your eyes widened when he stripped off his t-shirt and kicked his pants and boxers aside, he supposed he could toss the "small" and "ugly" insecurity in the trash. There was an obvious air of lust and affection in your gaze as your eyes traversed the planes of his body. He bristled, feeling undeserving of your gaze.

"Do you have to watch me so intently?"

You laughed at how his embarrassment only reddened him further. "I can look away if you want," the smile on your lips turned playful, mirth glinting in your eye. His brow furrowed as he was certain whatever words came next were meant to embarrass him further.

"But you have a pretty dick, so I'll keep watching if you don't mind."

"Shut up," he groaned despite his own smile as he lightly pushed you to lie back on the bed, your laughter singing in his ears before silenced by his lips on yours. His cock, hot and heavy, tapped against the plane of your stomach as he crawled over you, caging your body in with his.

He felt a smug sense of satisfaction as he pinched your nipple with one hand, making you gasp into his mouth. "You're the pretty one."

Separating for air, he sat up, leaning back on his calves. Your cunt was covered in a sheer layer of your arousal, pretty and flushed. Sliding his fingers in just like before, he scissored them against your soaked walls, stretching you out in preparation. Once sufficiently stretched, he lined the head of his cock up to your entrance. Slowly, he thrust in with a low groan, eyes rolling back. You were somehow warmer, tighter around his length than his fingers. You gasped, fisting the blanket underneath you as he pushed in, inch by inch, until he bottomed out.

He looked down at where the two of you connected, blue tufts of hair trailing down to the shaft of his cock, swallowed by your tight hole.

"It's, uh-," Tomura panted, face strained from behind the light blue strands of hair that curtained off the planes of his cheeks, "-a lot tighter than expected."

He looked ethereal like this, a flushed, peachy hue painting his skin down to his bare chest. "Yeah," you sighed, pushing his hair behind his ears. "Take your time. I need a second, too."

Your thumb traced over the planes of his face, over the rough texture of the scar on his lip. His hips jerked as he kissed your thumb, leaning down to kiss your lips, gloved hands creating waves over the blankets like sand dunes in a desert.

For a moment he lingered, lost in the saccharine taste of your tongue and the syrupy wetness between your legs as your walls pulsed and clenched around his dick, the vibrations of your moans making his lips tingle. All the porn in the world wouldn’t have prepared him for how tender and warm this felt, the soft expanse of your thighs grounding him and keeping him close.

Slowly he began to move his hips, relishing in the way your sex gripped his cock, the friction of your pussy against every vein and nerve slowing and streamlining his thoughts to follow one command: faster.

His hips sped up, chasing the friction his nerves so desired. He became enraptured by your face- every twitch between your brows, every noise or whimper you made, the way your face contorted when he hit just the right spot. He felt high off it, the expanse of your pleasure evident from every ridge and valley of your face, contorted and shifting with every moan. Chasing the high, he shifted the angle of his hips, your moans increasing in pitch as one hand grasped at the base of his neck, gently tugging at the hairs at his nape, the other rubbing circles into your clit.

"Please—you're so good, you feel so good—" you gasped, voice coming out choked around every thrust. His brain lagged from the praise, a brief stutter in his hips as his thoughts clipped through his head.

"Can you get on top."

"Yeah," you laughed, breathy with amusement at his reaction. Flipping over, you sunk down on his length, somehow deeper than he was before, with a low groan. "Oh fuck." Slowly you began to move your hips, grinding your swollen, puffy clit over the whispy hairs leading down to his shaft, an arousal and slickness that mixed between the two of you leaking down onto his skin. He wished he could feel it on his cock, how sticky and wet you were as you surrounded him. He bet it felt perfect.

His hands grasped around your hips as you rode him, face flushed and sweaty, chest and beading with droplets of sweat. From this angle, his dick was hitting the perfect spot, making you see stars. A tightness in your belly grew as you increased your pace, riding him with a fervor as you approached your orgasm. You stilled as your pussy fluttered around him, tightening as you unraveled. He was close before, but as you tightened, the dam broke. With a final thrust, he spilled hot bursts of cum into the condom, his grip tight around your soft hips.

You slumped against him, bare tits pressed into his chest, forehead nestled into the crook of his neck. A wave of calm serenity washed over him as he pressed a kiss into your hairline, lightly muscled arms wrapping snug around your back.

You sighed, content, mumbling into his neck.

"I love you."

He felt his dick twitch from where it still lay inside you. "We're doing that again later."

The Black Sun Swallows Whole

shigaraki x reader

Consumed by grief after the death of your parents, you throw yourself into researching their killers, an organization called The Abyssal Factory lead by All For One, who claim to be for the betterment of society. When you're given the opportunity to fight back against their corruption, you jump at the chance. However, as you get more entangled with your fight against unchecked power, you find that everything is not as it seemed, especially when it comes to the heir to the company, Tomura Shigaraki.

tags: canon typical violence, enemies to lovers, found family, scifi au, alternative universe, science fiction and fantasy, slow burn, plot heavy, no quirks, reader has backstory, shigaraki being an ass

warnings: nonconsentual choking

wc: 6.8k

a/n: this fic has been my baby over the past few months, I really hope ya'll like it!! I changed a few details about canon to make things make sense for a quirkless AU, I hope it makes sense!

An absolutely huge thank you to @scary-grace for the beta read, and for listening to my ideas for this fic!!

Chapter 1

The bar was dim when you first stepped inside, lit only by the lukewarm glow of the orange lights that hung over every booth and the neon signs that crept over the surface of the round bartending station at the center of the room. You shuffled from side to side uncomfortably as a persistent stick gripped your shoes and a smell of cheap booze permeated the air, making your nostrils flare. Groups of intermingling species sat engrossed in their own conversations, yelling at each other over the sound of the music that blared over the speakers. You recognized the song—some musician from the planet Vendere, the tune slow and melodic. It was something you'd want to slow dance to in other circumstances.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you scanned the room. The bar's environment was completely out of your wheelhouse. You were used to spending your time alone. With this level of noise and a huge crowd, it was inevitable for you to feel out of place. It didn't help that you already didn't drink much to begin with, and you certainly didn't have any friends to go out with. At least today you didn't have to socialize outside of the realm of business.

Checking your commlink, you waited for a notification to pop up on the screen. Nothing. It seemed your contacts weren't here yet. In hindsight, meeting up with strangers off of obscure internet forums was probably not the smartest idea, especially considering the nature of what you were planning. There was a non-zero chance you'd get arrested tonight. Regardless, you felt prepared to protect yourself in case anything went wrong. Your blaster felt heavy against your belt, and the three knives you kept strapped to you at all times were easy enough to handle, after all.

After ordering the cheapest thing you could think of, sliding what was probably too-many credits to the bartender, you settled into a booth at the back of the bar, facing the doorway. With a shaking breath, you mentally rehearsed your story, recounting what you were going to say. What drove you. Made you tick.

You could picture Vita, one of the thousands of inhabited planets in the Musutafu galaxy and your home planet, as it was when you grew up. Tall grasses that you loved to weave into little baskets. The water that reflected the sky, vibrant and shining, rippling and distorting from the small animals that disturbed it. Insects and birds that screeched a harmonious, chaotic song late into the night.

Your love for the water enforced your love for Vita. Some of your fondest childhood memories were days spent in the marshlands surrounding your house. Days when you would splash in puddles until the mud caked your boots and flecked your face. You would come home upon sundown, your mother scolding you as she wiped your face and arms with a wet cloth before sending you on your way to the bath.

Vita was dry now. As a child, you knew water was important, but not to what extent. To a young child, water was just what you drank. It was what you played in. Bathed in. You never expected it to become the economic resource it came to be regarded as.

You were ten when your world started to end. When Vita dried.

Drying was what the Intergalactic Empire insisted happened to your planet. A strange occurrence due to the citizens' over-consumption of water. But you knew the reality of its death. What was touted as a scientific breakthrough, capable of changing and revolutionizing the infrastructure of space travel, actually became your planet's downfall. Water was discovered to hold properties to allow for clean engines that didn't require expensive wiring or electrical systems. It was supposed to be better for the planet— for the galaxy. Until someone naturally got greedy.

This greed is what killed your planet.

With so much water ripe for the taking, it was only natural that someone would try to take advantage of the abundance of natural resources.

Your parents, as politicians, advocated for the protection of your planet's natural resources and sustainability efforts. They had taught you to recognize right from wrong and to stand up for what you believe in, despite what others may think.

This same philosophy is what had gotten them killed.

The night they were killed left a stain on your soul that no amount of scrubbing could remove. You were playing in the marsh again, watching the tadpoles swim around your boots and hands in the water. Their screams from the house startled you, the sound echoing across the still waters and sent any animal careening. Your little ten-year-old brain didn't know if you should run or hide with the tadpoles. Your rain boots seemed to sink further into the mud as you stood, blood rushing in your ears as you began to run towards your house, each step loudly splashing as the water speckled you from the waist down. The slight breeze seemed like a vigorous wind as you paused, approaching the house. Parked on the dry patch of land where your parent's ship usually parked was a strange starship, black and aerodynamic, you had never seen before.

Your parents would have told you if they were having guests. Why didn't they tell you?

The sound of two male voices echoed off the water, booming against the quiet sound of insects buzzing in the marsh.

"Wasn't there a brat we were supposed to get too?" An icy chill ran down your spine. Did they mean you? Your shorts became soaked as you scrambled to crouch down, hiding behind the large patches of tall grass. The sides of the grass poked into you painfully as you stilled, willing your body not to move a muscle. You held your breath and hoped your rabbit-quick heartbeat wasn't loud enough to startle the wolves.

They were too far away for you to pick out any discernible features. "There was," he said, bored. "But what does it matter, we can always come back."

The other man began to protest, "But the boss said—"

"I don't care what Shigaraki said, it's one kid. We aren't getting paid enough to care." Recognition sparked in your head. You heard your parents discussing Shigaraki at the dinner table. As the CEO of The Abyssal Factory, a company focused on "clean, water-dependent engines for space travel," he was their biggest opponent when it came to the protection of Vita's water.

Their voices drifted further away. Still crouched, you stood on your toes to peer over the grass. They now stood by their starships. You prayed they were leaving.

"I guess," the taller one muttered, so quiet you could barely make out the words, before climbing into the ship. "We'll come back if he finds out."

Still crouched, knees aching, you started at the ship as it quickly shrank to a dot in the sky, disappearing as it took off. Red-hot tears wet your waterline as your boot, stuck in the mud, pulled off your foot. Panic gripped you.

Damn it. You flinched. You weren't supposed to say damn it. Your socked foot was sopping wet and cold as you raced towards the house, fumbling and crawling up the stairs, leaving thick splats of mud that exploded into stars on each step.

You stood in eerie silence as the back door was left open, white curtains swaying in the wind, the bottom edges tinged with red droplets. Hot tears rose to wet your waterline. The air smelled metallic as you slowly trudged through the house, the water dripping off your clothes and onto the floor, leaving a brown trail of droplets behind you.

The memory of your dead parents stayed etched into your brain in the same way their blood was now etched into every nook and cranny of your living room floor. To this day, you wished you could forget it. The awkward angles your parents laid at. The way their blood pooled, mirroring the same puddles you used to love.

Everything was blurry from that point. You remember crawling towards the commlink to call your aunt, screaming and begging for help until your throat went hoarse. For someone to bring your mom and dad back. For someone to towel you off the way your mom used to. The flashing lights and questions from the Interspace police were locked away in the recesses of your mind, never to be seen again.

A ping on your commlink snapped you out of your thoughts. Wrestling to pull it out of your jacket, you glanced at the notification.

"We're here." Your contact. Finally.

You spotted them by the door— two men casually dressed, covertly glancing around the room for you. You raised your arm in a wave, "here."

You got a better look at them as they approached, sliding across from you in the booth. "I'm guessing you're the one I've been speaking to?" The scruffy one with long, black hair asked, neutral in tone. "Yeah," pulling out your wallet, you tossed your ID on the table. That was the condition you had both agreed upon to ensure you both were who you said you were. Real IDs. No funny business.

The other man, blonde, quickly snatched up your ID, scrutinizing it through his yellow, triangular glasses, mustache twitching. He must have liked it, because he thrust it back at you along with his own. "This better not be a fake."

"It's not." Taking both, you took a minute to look at his. Hizashi Yamada. The ID was old, but he matched the photo, and there weren't any obvious imperfections that would indicate its illegitimacy.

The air in your little booth was as tense and quiet as you switched IDs with the other man, the single hanging light from above elongating your faces. Shota Aizawa. Just like Yamada's, there weren't any issues you could observe from the naked eye. The both of you nodded, satisfied. Your knee bounced from beneath the table. Finally, something was happening.

Your desire to avenge your parents had consumed you, eventually driving you to encrypted online forums to discuss your target: Shigaraki, first name unknown, simply nicknamed All For One on the online forums. You had seen their large, obnoxiously branded ships drain entire planets of everything they had, leaving its citizens with no choice but to seek asylum elsewhere or join them for a "gainful employment opportunity." It was corrupt, unjust, and completely unchecked.

Of course, other people noticed. Others called for the Interspace government take action against them. But The Abyssal Factory's lobbying efforts proved fruitful, causing the forums to turn to turn to other methods of control. They held whispers of assassination, calls for retaliation. You wanted to be part of that. This lead you to where you were today.

The plan was simple; Exchange backstories, see if you trusted each other, and then exchange resources if you did. You had information they needed, they had the manpower you so desperately craved.

Luckily, the bar was loud enough to mask your conversation. "So. How'd All For One fuck your planet?"

If looks could kill, then you'd hate to be on the receiving end of Yamada's. "We're from Focis." Those three words made your stomach drop. Focis was one of the first planets completely drained by The Abyssal Factory. You heard stories of what had happened. Fires that engulfed whole cities, buildings leveled, victims forever trapped among the rubble. It was said that the screams of its citizens could still be heard in the wind.

There were very few survivors, most people unable to escape to the starships in time. Those who managed to escape lived with both the mental and physical scars, a constant smoke in their lungs that wouldn't leave no matter how much clean air they breathed.

It was regarded as one of the largest instances of mass death caused by The Abyssal Factory, earning Shigaraki the title of All For One. All the world's resources, all this death caused by one rich bastard seeking a profit. It infuriated you. You were further enraged by the fact that All For One completely got away with it too, only facing a mild slap on the wrist by the Intergalactic Empire, probably due to his "generous donations." The corruption seemed to never cease.

"Look, how do I know you're telling the truth?" You scrutinized their expressions, looking for a twitch or strange movement. Anything to indicate they were lying. "I need some proof that you're not feeding me bullshit."

Aizawa pulled his hair behind his ear, revealing the dark eye patch covering his right eye. "This is from when my apartment crumbled on top of me. And this," he leaned down, lifting his right pant leg, his newly-uncovered prosthetic shining against the neon lights of the bar. "is from when I was crawling out of the rubble."

"Okay," you nodded, turning towards Yamada. Unceremoniously, he unbuttoned his shirt. A large, blotchy red burn scar etched over the expanses of his chest, disappearing under the sleeves and traveling around his back. His deft fingers began rebuttoning his shirt. "Our friends died in that fire," he sneered, tone soured by grief. "I need to kill those bastards that did it." His eyes were intense when he looked up at you. "What about you?"

You retold your story in the way you had always recited it. The screams. The men who took everything from you. The bloodstains embedded so deep in the walls and rug that no cleaner could remove it. The place you vowed you'd never return to.

Aizawa looked solemn. "So we all lost—"

He was quickly interrupted by the sound of an argument up front. Security was currently arguing with a cop from the intergalactic police force.

"You need a warrant—"

The cop, hulking with muscles that bulged under his uniform, towered over the security guard. "I'm only going to say this once. Here's my warrant," he gestured to his blaster, large and proud on his hip. "Now you're gonna let me in, and you won't have any issues." You eyed the security guard in disgust as he deflated. Some security he was.

"Alright, listen up!" The cop yelled as the music stopped, leaving nothing but the sound of awkward shuffling. "ID check, everyone stay where you are." Anxiety churned in your stomach as some people around you groaned in verbal protest. ID checks were routine at this point to check for anyone wanted for crimes against the Empire, and by extension, the companies that funded them.

You tried to stay cool, quickly switching out your real ID for your fake one under the table, a bored expression on your face as the cop came to your table, his one mechanical eye scanning your ID. You tried not to smile when you noticed Yamada and Aizawa's were different colors than before and touting different names. You felt a drop of sweat run down your back as he continuing examining it.

Shouldn't he be done already? It was a damn good fake.

Suddenly, the loud noise of another man screaming pulled your attention to the front of the bar, where a man was currently running towards the exit. Your ID was thrown down to you as the cop got ready to charge and shoot. "Stop!"

The bar was thrown into chaos as someone started firing. Adrenaline and fear coursed through you as a large— you didn't know what it was, but it was hulking with muscle in a way that didn't seem possible, beady eyes poking through its exposed brain above its massive maw —barreled through the door, sending pieces of metal shrapnel flying.

Eyes wide, your hands reached for your own blaster. "What the fuck is that."

You nearly fell over when you felt a hand clench down on your jacket, pulling you into a crouch. "We need to leave." Aizawa's hand was firm on your back, holding you in place. "Exit is that way, we'll tell you everything later."

The three of you scrambled to leave with everyone else through the back door, holding your breath until you were outside, making your way to the only two electric starships on the lot, yours and theirs.

"Ah, that was scary!" Yamada groaned, suddenly much more animated and less serious than he was inside the bar.

Crossing your arms, you tried not to shudder. "What was that?"

"They're called nomu," Aizawa gave you a strange look, putting away his commlink as yours buzzed. "We can discuss it back at our base. I just sent you the coordinates." Your ears perked up at the mention of their base. "What's at the base?"

"UA flight school," Yamada grinned. "We're teaching students to fly fighter jets."

A sense of giddiness filled your lungs. Fucking finally, something was happening. "I'll be there tomorrow morning."

Your room at your aunt's place was small, but livable. After the death of your parents, she had taken you in with open arms, so it's not like you could complain much. You took a look around your room, wondering if you'd ever set foot in there again. Binders of evidence lined the shelves, spilling out onto the walls with photos and articles you had printed on your aunt's ancient printer. She had always teased you for being so old-fashioned, so tedious with your physical media. But anything digital could be so easily deleted, and you were terrified that your life's work would go to naught.

Staring out the window, you sat on the bed, looking over the bustling city streets, slightly quieted by the late hour. You remembered when you first moved in with your aunt, who lived only a few standard hours away through warp speed on the planet Civitas, you found the city overwhelming. It was bustling, alive and pulsating with the energy of tens of millions of people around every corner. It was so different from Vita—with it's smaller, less populated cities and small towns. As a teenager, you realized the thing you initially despised was your only protection—more people meant more eyes on All For One. Still, even ten years later, it didn't feel like home.

Packing what meager personal belongings you had, your head cocked as you heard a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Your aunt's smiling face greeted you as she walked in, sitting herself in your desk chair. "So, what time are you leaving?"

"I dunno. Early."

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "You know—"

You already knew what she was going to say, because she'd said it many times before. "Are you going to try to talk me out of going again?"

Her tone was soft, quiet in a way that came from a deep sense of melancholy. "I don't think I could, even if I wanted to." Your arms tightened around your bag as she glanced around your room, eyes lingering on your bookshelf before looking at you again. "You have your mind made up and I'm happy for you, I just—" she wrung her hands. She looked tired these days. "I don't want you to forget about your living family in pursuit of your dead one." A wry smile fell over her face as she stood. "Pursue what you think is right, but don't let it consume you."

You stood to hug her, her arms warm around your back.

"I won't, I promise."

But something in the back of your mind screamed that those words were a lie.

When you left in the morning, eyes still blurred from your early rise, you took one last look around the room. The desk that barely fit your computer. Your bed, dressed in plain bed sheets, you outgrew a few years back. As you closed the door behind you, you wondered if you ever really fit that room anyways.

After landing in the clearing, you double-checked your commlink to make sure you were at the correct coordinates. UA was located on the planet Fuga, only a half-days away at warp-speed.

Landing your ship was a struggle, to say the least.

You were expecting some form of concrete structure, large and imposing, with a long landing strip. Instead, you were greeted with the opposite— aside from the small, grassy clearing where you landed, the surrounding area was lush with green vegetation and tall trees with vines that draped along the horizon.

Exiting the ship with your bag in tow, you hoped this wasn't a trap. Suddenly you were being called to, Aizawa's hand raised in a wave as he approached.

"Sorry, I should've been here to greet you."

"It's fine." You shifted the weight of your bag on your shoulder, heavy with the weight of the binders you brought.

"Let me show you around." The top of the compound blended in perfectly with the rolling terrain that surrounded it, except for the large, glass panels along the front. The metal frames that accentuated each pain were covered in rust, giving the impression that the place was abandoned. This impression didn't last long as you entered.

Aizawa led you up a set of stairs around the compound as you looked around in astonishment. There were all kinds of electric ships on the main factory floor, various models and designs you'd only seen on ancient, yellowed pages. It was an eclectic mix of ships in various bronze and copper tones, shapes altered to suit its pilot's flying style. Several of Aizawa's students were working on the ships, some huddled in lively conversation. "This used to be an electrical equipment manufacturing plant, he explained. "We found it abandoned and thought the trees would do a good job of hiding us from any satellites."

You thought back to the trees outside, the way they grew in close, tight-knit patches, with branches like the tendrils of a deep-sea creature, crossing and wrapping around one another and framing bits of the sky in oddly-shaped frames.

"Aren't the trees a little too thick to train fighter pilots?" The grin that stretched Aizawa's face was scary. You were thankful you weren't one of his students. "Oh, they can fly in it just fine. You'll see."

"We'll have a meeting in about two hours to discuss the information you've brought, those nomu we saw earlier, and our future plans. There's a room for you upstairs and down the hall to the right, I think some of the girls made a nameplate for you." he rolled his eyes. "They were excited."

You smiled weakly. You hoped they weren't too entangled in this. That their youth made them eligible for a normal life. "Thank you." Aizawa nodded before turning, leaving you to your own devices.

Aizawa was right. Hung on the door was a small wooden sign, your name painted in a fancy-looking script and colored plastic gems misaligned on the outer edges. The size of your room here was not dissimilar from the size your room back home. While the walls in your aunt's house were covered, these walls were distinctly bare, highlighting the rough texture of the concrete. Your bed was clean and neat as you placed your bag down, a thick blanket near the end the only pop of color. You unpacked your bag in record time with the exception of your binder, deciding it best to keep it on you for the meeting.

Exiting the room and heading towards the maintenance bay, you found yourself still with awe halfway down the stairs. From this angle you could see everything—it seemed Aizawa ran a tight ship, no pun intended. Like yours, all the starships were electric and in near perfect condition despite their age. Electric starships were rare to see, especially after The Abyssal Factory's lobbying efforts.

You hurried the rest of the way down the stairs to take a look. As you reached up to read the model number on one, a voice interrupted you, calling out your name. "You flew in on an GA-FFE37B! All Might himself designed that one, and they hardly manufacture parts for them anymore!" One of Aizawa's students, freckled with green hair that tousled in every direction, padded up to you, furiously scribbling in his notebook. You blinked when you spotted a sketch of your ship already in there. "I'm Izuku Midoriya, do you mind showing me your ship later? There are just so many things I want to see up close!" The words flew so quickly out of his mouth it was like they were traveling at warp speed.

"Sure." Who were you to stop the pursuit of knowledge. You spent the rest of the time before the meeting explaining the mechanisms to the ship and discussing All Might's designs with Midoriya.

The makeshift meeting room was barely large enough to accommodate the table, long and large enough to fit all the UA teachers, a few select students, and yourself. The air in the meeting room was much more serious than in the maintenance bay, lacking the youthful joy that the students seemed to exude. In your eagerness you got there a tad early, leaving plenty of open seats for the time being. You sat down away from anyone else, waiting for the room to fill up. Eventually more people trickled in, and a woman with long, black hair settled into the chair next to you. She barely had time to introduce herself as Nemuri before a hush fell over the room, all eyes falling to a man closely resembling a rodent from your home planet as he scampered in, sitting at the head of the table.

Introducing himself as Nezu, he started the meeting. "As you all know, Aizawa and Yamada made contact with someone who may have information on possible weapons sources for the empire, and by extension The Abyssal Factory." He gestured towards you. "I heard you have some intel?"

Clearing your throat, you stood on shaking legs and introduced yourself. "I've tracked down a weapons supplier for the empire." Pulling out your binders, you passed them to Nemuri. "Everyone can take a look. Kai Chisaki was seen meeting with All For One around four standard weeks ago at a restaurant on Vendere, but it was unknown if any business deals were discussed." Vandere, a merchant hub, was a bustling planet with a city that seemed to stretch along every surface. "He runs Shie Hassaikai, a weapons manufacturing plant."

"What possible reason do they have to meet?" Namuri asked.

"That's what I was wondering as well. I did some digging, and there are records of a transaction from a few days ago, but they're not for weapons. It wasn't until Aizawa mentioned them that I connected the dots."

You don't know how you missed it. The Shie had no ties to The Abyssal Factory on paper until a few days ago, so you didn't have time to do a full deep dive into their business dealings or their paperwork. You also didn't pay much attention to the regular news outside of where The Abyssal Factory was concerned. Intergalactic news proved to rapid to, anyway.

Nomu were the empire's new line of defense, unveiled only a few standard days ago. There was a scarce amount of information on them—no one knew what they were or how they were created.

Pointing at the next page in your binder, you gestured for the next page to be flipped. "Those are the numbers for a recent business deal between Shie Hassaikai and The Abyssal Factory. And look at what's being discussed." At the top of the spreadsheet, printed in small letters read the text: Nomu, 300 count.

"I'd say our next plan of action is to raid the Shie Hassaikai facility. Perhaps the key to understanding the nomu lies there," Sekijiro mused.

Aizawa nodded. "That's right. Weapons are our top priority at the moment, besides excess manpower."

You grinned. Everyone seemed to be in agreement. "I can get us the building's blueprints if you give me a computer and enough time. From there we can plan an attack strategy and hopefully find something out about the Nomu."

With this plan in mind, you set out to hack into Shie Hassaikai's database and find the facility blueprints. You spent the next few days hunched over your new computer, occasionally interrupted by Aizawa or one of his students who'd been sent to remind you to eat.

While it took a bit longer due to a different setup, you managed to locate the files for the blueprints, security schedules, and locations of any security alarms.

The plan was simple—a small group would fly down to a field north of the Shie Hassaikai main warehouse, located on Repono, a small, near-empty planet owned by the Shie Hassaikai to use for their manufacturing. Everyone would then split into groups A, B, and C. Groups A and B would infiltrate the building through the entrance on the north side of the building while group C stayed back, keeping a watchful eye on the outside of the compound.

A larger Group A, consisting of Aizawa, Snipe, Kirishima, Tamaki, and a few more teachers would take the linear path down to the packaging area where weapons that were being sent to the empire were stored before delivery. They would then take as many weapons as they could.

Group B, consisting of you, Izuku, and Mirio would veer left to the security room and disable all cameras and sensors that could possibly alert anyone to your presence. You when then all quickly head back to reconvene with group A to assist with the loud out.

Groups A and B would then run back to the exit, where Group C, Yamada, Ochako, Tsuyu, and Nejire, would be waiting to assist in the load out process before steering the ships back to UA.

The sky was pitch black when you touched down in a field far enough to be away from view. The light from the stars was the only illuminator besides the bright lights that surrounded the Shie Hassaiki headquarters. There wasn't anything in the surrounding vicinity other than the compound. It stood absolutely daunting, the dark, windowless structure a harsh change from the rolling hills and slow-moving rivers that surrounded it. Silence filled the air, occasional low whistles of the wind cooling your face and tousling your hair.

Snipe lead the group down the side of the building, dirt and grass quietly crunching beneath your uniform boots. The doors were lower than the hill you were currently positioned on, giving you a perfect view of the headquarters.

Two armed, masked guards stood still outside the entrance, poised on either side of the doors. You waited as Snipe took out his long-ranged blaster, crouching as he lined up and took the shot.

One. He was quick despite the distance and wind. Two.

Both security guards slumped to the ground with a sickening thwap, one after the other.

There was no time to wait—everyone rushed down the side of the hill towards the doors with you, Izuku, and Mirio at the front, since disabling the alarms was the of the upmost importance.

Rifling through the dead security guard's jacket, you tried not to cringe at how warm the body still was. Eventually you found it—his ID card, clipped into the inside of his uniform. You snatched it as quickly as you could, ushering everyone inside after a quick swipe.

From then you enacted the plan, splitting off into two groups, the sound of group A advancing to the weapons room fading as they advanced. Following the map of long, winding halls you practically had etched into your brain, you continued down the hallway, making it to the security room.

You unlocked the doors with a quick swipe of your stolen ID, the doors sliding back to reveal the back of a security guard's head. He spoke on his commlink in a frantic, irritated tone, too enraptured in his conversation to notice the door.

Shit. He was most certainly calling for backup. A quick tug on the trigger of your blaster and he slumped over the console. You held your breath as a rush of emotions swept through you. Regret, then shock, then guilt. Your throat felt acidic as you swallowed the bile that rose. There was no time for emotions; you had to keep moving.

After pulling away his rapidly-cooling corpse, you stared at the various buttons, differing in size and color.

You took a deep, rattling breath.

It's okay. You could do this.

Making quick work of disabling the cameras, Izuku helped you unlock the doors to the weapons storage, the two of you working in sync as Mirio stood guard at the door. After triple checking that the cameras and sensors were disabled, you ushered Mirio and Izuku down the hall to reconvene with group A, you on their tail.

You were halfway to group A when you felt the wind knock completely out of your lungs. The building spun as someone grabbed you by the collar of your jacket, slamming you against the wall. Metallic ichor felt hot on your tongue as the back of your head kit the hard surface, recoiling from the initial impact.

The tip of a baton, crimson and pulsating with energy, crackled over your stomach as your assailant held it against your skin, their hand wrapped tight around your throat. Your head felt clouded from the lack of oxygen and fear that coursed through your veins.

"Where is Kai Chisaki?" You got a good look at him then, his face inches away from yours as he sneered, crimson eyes glaring at you with utter contempt. His pale skin was engulfed in an all-black ensemble under a blood red cape, various straps crossing the length of his body.

Whipping your head around, you heard Izuku cry out in anger. You couldn't quite hear the exchange due to the distance—too far away to help. He was just down the hall a second before.

You yelled for him with the hope that he'd hear you. "Izuku, Mirio, run! Get to the others!"

One pair of footsteps audibly retreated, before stopping. "Izuku, come on!" Your heart fell from your throat and back to your chest as you heard both boys finally retreat. However, it quickly rose again, the weight of a hand around your neck heavy as you strained to remove it.

With both hands, you tugged his wrist from around your larnyx, pulling him to the side and towards the wall. "Why would I know where he is?" With shaky hands, you reached for your blaster.

Spinning around, he looked down at what you were wearing, eyes widening when he noticed your lack of uniform. Not a security guard. Before you could place the finger on the trigger, he twisted your arm to the side, forcing your wrist to go limp.

You hissed in pain, dropping your blaster with an echoing clang.

"Who are you?" His eyes narrowed, body pressed into yours as he pinned you to the wall. Squirming, you tried to call upon any of the self-defense videos you studied. Your chest felt tight with panic as you realized you couldn't move.

"Who are you?"

The shrill sound of the alarms made you both startle.

The visage of a man, clad all in black, with dark purple burns covering most of his skin appeared in your peripheral. "Shigaraki, we need to go get the weapons before—"

"In a second, Dabi."

You interrupting unabashedly. "You're a Shigaraki?"

He seemed appalled at the question, as if there was nothing that could be gained from this clarification but goodwill. "What's your problem?"

Disgust churned in your stomach, face warm. "Your shitstain of a 'company' is my problem—do you really not know how many innocent people you've killed?"

Everyone in the room tensed, silent other than the ear-splitting screech of the alarm. The man to your left, tall and green with lizard-like features, broke the tension with a grin, a giddiness in his stance that you couldn't identify the reason for.

Shigaraki's voice came out a low whisper, a murmur laced with outrage. "What do you mean, innocent?"

His off-kilter stance allowed you to push him to the side, freeing you from his grasp. More of Shigaraki's team, a blonde alien girl and a man completely covered in spandex emerged down the other end, blocking the exit which you originally came from. There were too many of them for you to pick up your blaster and shoot. They'd surround you too quickly.

Your feet pounded against the floor as you ran in the other direction, the shrillness of the alarms ringing in your ears as you hoped you'd stumble across Mirio or Izuku on the way to the weapons room where group A was.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you heard Mirio call out your name. Down a side hallway, Mirio and Izuku raced towards you. Relief, then confusion filled you as you noticed what, or who, Izuku was carrying—a little girl with a red horn sticking straight through her long, white hair, covered in bandages.

"She was running down the halls," Izuku held her tight as she gripped his sleeves. Poor thing was probably terrified.

"We can bring her once we find the others." The three of you raced down the hall to the weapons room. You stopped as everyone from group A raced out of the room, meeting you halfway, several carts of weapons rolling behind them.

Snipe pointed back to the way you were coming, "We got everything we could grab. Lets turn back now."

Spinning on your heel, you sprinted towards the exit, stopping as Shigaraki's gang ran in your direction. Shigaraki stopped closest to you, his baton crackling at his side. "You aren't leaving until you give me some answers."

The sound of blaster shots boomed over the sound of the alarm. Several uniformed soldiers marched in through a side hall, blasters raised as shots rained upon you.

You turned back to Shigaraki, shoving past him. "You can't get answers if we're dead, now move."

He groaned before turning and running in the same direction. "Fine."

"Tomura, do we have to leave now?" The blonde alien girl pouted. "I wanted to stab Chisaki."

"Not now, you idiot." The one covered in burn scars, Dabi, said, turning and running as well.

The air felt fresh outside as you burst through the exit. The starships—including the branded Abyssal Factory ships that seemed to appear from thin air—were close to the exit, as Group A wheeled the carts in.

Aizawa and Snipe shot back at the impending guards as the doors closed, the rest of the team working together to quickly load the weapons.

Before you could join your team, you felt a hand tug you back, long fingers wrapped around your elbow. The harsh spotlights surrounding the building highlighted the scars on his face, jagged and harsh over his lip and right eye, with dry, flaking lines surrounding his eyes and brow. It looked painful.

You were expecting him to look… different. A typical billionaire's son would be prim. Polished. The longer you stared at him the more he looked beat down. Tired. Unkempt, with long, blue hair that blew in every direction, tangled and frizzy.

He opened his mouth to say something, when the Shie Hassaikai's ships appeared in the sky, creating beacons of bright light against the otherwise dark, starry sky. You internally cursed. Backup had arrived.

"Look out!" Shigaraki pushed you in the direction of UA's ships as he dove in the opposite direction, a laser beam from one of the Shie Hassaiki ships shooting the ground on which you stood only a second prior, sending dirt and grass flying.

You scrambled to join the others in loading up the ships, watching as Shigaraki's ship flew off into the distance, the white-hot bullets from the Shie Hassaikai's ship blasters stark against the black sky.

Your heart thumped in your chest as the cart you were unloading burst into flames, sparks and shrapnel flying into the air.

"Everyone set off, now!" Aizawa yelled from the cockpit of his ship.

Scrambling into the back of Ochako's ship, you watched the fire grow smaller and smaller in the distance. The noise of laser bullets whizzing by were muffled as the ship doors closed. The ship lurched as Ochako enabled the thrusters, bringing the ship to warp speed.

Looking over at all the ships flying in a V-formation, Aizawa as the leader, you should've felt an immense sense of pride. You had done it—the mission was a success. Still, in the back of your mind, you felt like you had more questions than you did before, and an unending sense of dread. Tomura was within your grasp and you failed to kill him.

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────⋆⋅☆ Fell in lust ! Lust for love

.ᐟCw: Suggestive, street racer!otoya x Stripper!reader, dramatic?

"𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒, 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑢𝑝. 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘, 𝑦𝑒𝑎ℎ" - 𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑦 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐

──⋆⋅☆

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1

Otoya was the type of man who would live at the strip club. He’d literally buy out whatever woman he thought would look best with him. Sometimes for only the night, sometimes the whole day. Sometimes more than one girl. He came alone to relax after a race.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to find anyone who caught his eye. Until they landed on you. You came onto the stage in your tiny little costume, not doing much to cover anything. 

He swallowed hard, not being able to take his eyes off of you. His drink was stuck in his hand and he was frozen, lips parted. He watched you danced around the pole so fucking seductively. He moved down on the sofa he was sitting on, adjusting his length. 

The bright flashing neon lights showed just enough of your smile, curves, body, and face, but not everything. 

He wanted more, he was desperate to see your actual smile, your body without clothes, and especially the faces you’d make if you were under him. 

After you finished up. Someone came after you and collected all the money to bring it backstage.

“Thank you.” You smiled at the guy, he nodded and left. You placed all the cash inside a bag and stuffed it in your locker. You left to get a drink when you were met with an unfamiliar presence standing beside the door.

“Oh, hello? Can I help?” you asked, tilting your head. The guy with the dual coloured hair looked down at you, smirking. He moved in closer, invading your privacy.

"Couldn’t take my eyes off you out there, babe. Looked downright sinful on that pole—had me thinking all kinds of things."

He said not even greeting you back. You were taken aback by the boldness. Laughing under your breath, you smiled at him, thanking him. 

You tried going around him to get your drink but he grabbed your arm, spinning you around to face him.

“Hey! What the h-” 

“Do you do private rooms?” he said, pulling you closer to him. You grit your teeth, placing your hands on his chest to maintain distance. 

“Only for some and i’m on break right now asshole”

You could hear him muttering under his breath, he looked down at you again.

“Please, just 30 minutes, that's all i’m asking for. I’ll give you.. I’ll pay 50k. Just give me a lap dance, I won’t ask for anything else.” 

The fuck?

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets after hearing 50k? Was he fucking mental? Or just rich? 50k for 30 minutes is beyond insane. Not to mention the fact that he sounded like he was begging. You looked anywhere but at him.

“I..” you sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Look, i’m not doing VIP or private rooms right now but-”

“A kiss.”

“What?” you scoffed, pulling back to look at him like he’s crazy. Oh. Maybe that’s what he was, crazy. 

“A kiss, that's all”

“Dude, listen, i-” he interrupted you again, making you wanna punch him

“75k” 

“Oh my fu.. It’s not about the money!” you said, trying to get it through his thick skull.

“100k” damn. That’s a whole 3-4 months' worth of work, all for a single kiss.

“I..”

“150k” 

“OK! OK!, STOP!” you shouted, pushing him back against the door behind him.

“Jesus, fuck.” you cursed, wrapping your arms around him, though your heels were high as hell, he still managed to be taller than you. 

You tilted your head, leaning in to kiss him. You felt him melt into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer till your chest was pressed against his toned body. 

He didn’t need to strip for you to be able to tell he worked out. 

He moved his hand down, cupping your ass, nibbling on your bottom lip, slipping his tongue past your lips.

Isn’t this going a bit further than just a kiss? Is what the logical thing to think was but instead your mind was foggy, too lost in his expert lips and tongue and the way his boner was pressed against your thigh. 

Even though his length was covered, you could tell he was long. 

You tilted your head back, letting him devour you, your arms tightened around his neck until you finally came back to reality and realized others could probably see you.

“Fuck.. hey!” you whisper yelled, pushing away from him. You looked up and holy fuck did he look hot. 

Lips red and swollen and eyes red around the edges. Did he smoke weed? You cleared your throat, looking away awkwardly. 

“Sorry..” he sighed, seeming down for some reason. 

“My money.”

“What?” 

“My money??” you repeated, lifting your hands as you shrugged. 

You scoffed, of course he was all talk, you can’t believe you just made out with this freaking weirdo and believed he could pay you. 

“Oh yeah, i’d say I’ll write you a check, but due to legal reasons, i won’t do that,” he said, laughing awkwardly, pulling out his phone and calling someone. You lifted your eyebrows, seeing how long he would continue this act. 

“Just drop it, I know you do-” 

Some dude randomly interrupted handing a fat fucking stack of cash to the green and white haired guy. 

Your eyes widened; you don’t think you’ve ever seen this much cash in your life all at once. 

“Thanks, man, ‘preciate it,” he said, and the other black haired dude left. 

“Thanks for the kiss, babe,” he said, placing the stack of hundreds in your hand. It was so big, it didn’t even fit in your hand. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, you stared at him in pure shock. 

He walked past you, giving you one last smile. You were frozen till you turned around to see the guy was gone. You quickly ran past the large crowd of people who were chatting and dancing until you caught up to him, almost about to exit the building.

“Hey! Wait!” you yelled, out of breath. 

“Hm?” he turned out, wondering if he had left something.

“Tomorrow..” you mumbled, coming closer. “I'm free tomorrow.. If you.. Still want that lap dance,” you said, clearing your throat and looking at the ground. Why the hell were you suddenly feeling shy?

“Heh, thanks, cutie, i’ll come around tomorrow,” he said, waving at you as he left. 

The same friend pulled up, picking him up and both of them left. 

It took you a couple of seconds to realize that neither of you asked for the other's name. Fuck. 

Taglist: @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @syleepy @samthesimp1 @werfiedeii @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cyberheartrebel @vaelils @narcjsistx @arisaturn

A/n: for reference. 150k dollars in cash is around 6 inches thick (15.2cm). whats funny, this was initially supposed to be a oneshot but i liked it too much, so i made it into a mini series

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

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────⋆⋅☆ Lust for love

ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴇᴛ ʀᴀᴄᴇʀ!ᴏᴛᴏʏᴀ ᴇɪᴛᴀ ᴍɪɴɪ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

"𝐹𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑑𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑡, 𝑦𝑒𝑎ℎ" - 𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑦 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑡𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐

───⋆⋅☆

Pairing: Street racer!otoya x stripper!reader

Synopsis: Love isn’t real, not for a girl like you. And yet, when the cocky street racer in all black throws down a hundred grand at your feet, whispering, "Just one kiss, please," something in you wavers. You tell yourself he's insane. Who throws that kind of money away for nothing? he's a good-for-nothing playboy, and you're someone who desires true love. the two things that can never go together. You both should never be together.

Theme song: Lust by chase atlantic

Warning: Smut mdni, angst, drugs

Chapter index

1. Fell in lust 2. Chase 3. Full speed 4. Empty

Taglist: @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @syleepy @samthesimp1 @werfiedeii @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cyberheartrebel @vaelils @narcjsistx @arisaturn

A/n: i have nothing planned. just going with the flow. Might change the layout. Ik otoya isn't as popular as the other characters but his personality is so fitting for this that i had to. (this would do numbers if i posted it on ao3)

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

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took a break yesterday to rest, then spent some time with my gf and our friend today so i’m feeling much better and energized

so because of that, i will be writing tonight. i might not get the chapter posted but i will attempt to get it finished

y’all i’m so sorry i feel like i’m lacking fr, i haven’t updated l.o.v.e since march 29th

which granted is only a few days ago but i mean i was pumping out chapter after chapter and now i’m js in a funk

blue lock has a chokehold on me currently

my chronic illness (migraines) has been acting up too though so unfortunately i can’t look at a screen for longer than thirty minutes without wanting to kms i’m so sorry

i’ll try to get something out today, maybe like a checkpoint or some tweets but i fear this fuck ass migraine ain’t cutting it

the nerd i reblogged this from has a quality blog & i recommend you all follow them.

i love nagi bc he looks so tiny and cute in some of these screenshots.. and then u realize he's 6'3"

ᝰ.ᐟ street racer!Isagi headcanons

.ᐟcw: street racer!isagi, explicit, nsfw, drugs, mdni

"𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑎 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒" - 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑦 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑌𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇𝐷𝑂𝑂𝑅

ᯓ★ᯓ⚡︎

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Competitive to the core. He’s not here to just participate; he’s here to win. And if you challenge him? Be prepared for him to go all out.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Off the track, he’s surprisingly sweet, but don’t mistake that for softness. He’ll talk shit with the best of them when he’s behind the wheel.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Aggressive but calculated. Isagi doesn’t waste movement—every turn, every drift, every nitrous boost is intentional.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Drives a sleek, midnight blue Nissan GT-R R35—a mix of speed, power, and control.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Protective, but in a way that fuels his drive. If you’re watching him race? He’s winning for you.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Will tease you mercilessly when you try to act tough. “You talk big, but you’re gripping the seat pretty tight, doll.”

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ The type to memorize every street, every turn, every shortcut—so he can use them when it counts.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟIf he gets behind? Don’t count him out. He’s studying every weakness in his opponent’s driving and will find the perfect moment to strike.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Treats his car like a teammate, constantly fine-tuning it for peak performance.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ You’ll always catch him under the hood, tweaking something, making sure everything is perfect.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Gets pissed when people lean on it without permission. “Hands off. You don’t touch someone’s car unless you wanna race for it.”

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ After a win, he always pulls you close, hand gripping your chin before pressing his forehead against yours. “Told you I’d take first. Now, what’s my reward?”

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ If you ask to drive? He hesitates—hard. But if he lets you? He’s watching closely, one hand on your thigh, guiding you through the gears.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ His love language? Teasing. He’ll pretend to ignore you while he’s working on his car—until you climb onto the hood just to get his attention. or when he's actually trying to focus, torso hidden under the car and you climb onto his lap, giggling at the tiny grunts and groans of his as you rub up against him.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ get's sooo so jealous, if he even sees a guy anywhere near you, he won't say anything but will walk up to you, throwing as arm around your shoulder, making unnecessary 'inappropriate' jokes, slapping your ass, what not, just to show the guy you're his.

"baby, who's this? oh a friend? that's cute, tell this 'friend' you're thrasher's property, okay?"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ If you get mad at him? He’ll throw you in the passenger seat and race until your frustration melts into adrenaline. and if you're still mad, he'll help you relax by shoving his cock deep inside your cunt while he rides, so you can squirm around on it as you warm his cock.

"shh, relax, if you wanna cum, you have behave for the rest of the ride, or no cock and no cumming"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Lowkey loves when you get bratty, but there’s a limit. If you push too far? He’ll find creative ways to make you behave. “You wanted my attention, didn’t you? Now you’ve got all of it.” he would say while having you ride his fingers.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Smokes only when he’s pissed off. You’ll catch him leaning against his car, cigarette dangling from his lips, eyes dark with frustration. If he's really mad, he'll bend you over his hood and take it out on you even if you didn't do anything :(

"you take cock so fuckin' well, this little pussy was made for me. made to be ruined by me"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ After a big win, he’ll fuck you in the driver’s seat, windows fogged up, sweat slicking his skin. (he loves car sex) "Wanna sit pretty and let me ruin you, doll?"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ loves when you go out with him to a party, and he can do drugs with you. of course he's more strict with you and has more rules set out. and if you're willing, he'll do body shots with you, placing the shot glass in the most intimate placing, not caring who sees.

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ he smokes weed after a long day of racing and tuning cars.

"c'mere, doll. wanna help? sit on my lap here"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ does everything to see you in lingerie, especially the sheer and see-through ones. will make you get on your knees and knead your tits and abuse your poor little nipples while he gets off on the sight, nutting all over your face and body.

"fuck, yeah that's it, keep playing with your tits, do it like how i taught you, that's right, good girl"

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ Isn't a huge fan of overall drugs, other than some relaxants after a race or before a race. he prefers the feeling of euphoria over the feeling of wanna party. that's why he has pills lying around his house, which he'll take from time to time. and if you decide to take it, he'll definitely take care of you, letting you cock warm him as your body falls limp.

"mm, baby your pussy is so warm."

street racer!Isagi.ᐟ looks who hot when he does weed, eyes just red and narrow, while he watches you.

"you look so pretty like this, doll. want more of you"

Taglist: @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @syleepy @samthesimp1 @werfiedeii @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cyberheartrebel @vaelils @narcjsistx @arisaturn

A/n: not edited. this also got so much longer than needed.

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

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ᝰ.ᐟ Brat princess

.ᐟ cw: Smut mdni, street racer!chigiri, brat taming, Bratty!reader, whiny/fussy!reader, sex toys

"𝐽𝑇 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑢𝑝, 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑠𝑠𝑦 𝑢𝑝" - 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑦 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇𝑌𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇𝐷𝑂𝑂𝑅

ᯓ★ᯓ⚡︎

You were Chigiri’s girl. It was apparent, the way to clung onto him, wrapped your arms around his bicep, was always his passenger princess whenever he raced. 

What wasn’t obvious, though, was the fact that you were a complete brat and needed his attention 24/7.

“Babyyyy, look at me, Stop looking at your phone” you whined, wrapping your arms around his torso, placing your chin on his chest to look up at him.

“I know i know. give me a second, let me finish this” he said, then tucked his phone into his back pocket. Pushing your hair out of your face, he cupped your cheeks and kissed your pouting lips. 

“Better?” you grinned, nodding.

He smiled, walking towards his car. You followed behind like a dog, sitting in the passenger seat when he opened the door for you. 

He came around, buckling in and driving up to the start line. 

“Behave, ok? After I win, I’ll give you all the attention that you want.” he nodded, biting your lip in anticipation. 

The only thing running through your head right now was ways to make him mad at you. 

The second the flag girl said ‘go,’ your back was pushed against the seat. This was always the scariest, when he started. 

You placed your hand on top of his that was on the gear shift. 

He looked at you, raising a brow. 

“That was fast, sorry,” you giggled, chigiri smiled, moving his hand so it was on top of yours. 

“Hold on tight, princess, i’m speeding up” You nodded, watching as his hand tightened on top of your, aggressively moving the gear shift. 

He looked out his window, flipping off the person he sped past. 

“Hyoma, you look so hot when you’re all focused,” your voice dropping down to a low seductive whisper. 

His jaw clenched, which didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Baby, don’t ignore me,” you whined, pouting at him. You knew he was watching you but his eyes stayed focused on the road. He ignored your little antics, trying to stay in his zone. 

“You know i get bitchy when you don’t pay attention to me!” you huffed, pulling your hand away from his, nudging him. 

“Princess.. I swear to- look, i’ll give you whatever you want; just let me finish the race, k?” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes on the car in front of him. 

It’s like the cogs were turning in your head when suddenly something popped in your head. 

“Hyooomaaa” you shifted in your seat so you were facing him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Kinda busy, yn” he said harshly. Taking a sharp right, which nearly had you flying out the window. 

“Why are you so focused on the race anyways? you make it look so easy.” You crossed your arms, pouting. The mini skirt you were wearing rode up your thighs as you moved around. 

You leaned in closer, placing your hand on his thigh. 

You could see his knuckles flex under the dim glow of the street lights, the way his grip tightened around the steering wheel. 

“Since it’s easy, i should make it harder for you, right?” you leaned in to kiss his cheek, purposely pressing your tits against his arm. 

“Careful.” was all he said, You knew he was hard. You could see his pants tighten. 

You grinned, wanting to push further but his hand moved from the gear shift, taking a hold of your hand that rested on his thigh and placed it on top of yours. 

“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” he said, his fingers trailing up your inner thighs. 

“You constantly whine about attention but forget that I decide when you get it” A shiver ran down your spine; you looked at him to see him already eyeing you before looking back onto the road. 

Your breath hitched as he spread your legs with hand one, swerving the car with the other. You sat there not moving because who knows what would happen if you pissed him off anymore. 

“Glove box” he said, his voice different from his usual sweet and soft voice. What was even crazier was that he was somehow ahead of all the cars even while taking care of the issue at hand. 

You opened the glove box, watching him take out a small black box. Your stomach twisted as he handed you the box. 

“Open it and take it out” 

Open what? Take what out? You mumbled something, cracking open the box and taking out a little pink.. Bullet vibrator? 

“Hyoma is this the right thing?” you asked quietly, staring down at the silicone toy.

“Yes, spread your legs and press it against your cunt” he said, turning again, tires screeching against the asphalt. 

You let out a shaky breath, spreading your legs and adjusting yourself. You went to remove your panties but chigiri’s voice stopped you.

“I never asked you to remove them, did i?”

“No…”

“Then keep em on, brat” he stared you down, watching as you pressed the vibrator against your clit, the sudden buzzing made you jump. 

You saw chigiri holding his phone in his hand, controlling the vibrations of the toy. 

“Hyoma..” you whined, clearly this wasn’t what you wanted at all. You wanted chigiri’s attention, not for him to use a stupid toy on you. 

You pressed the toy against the fabric of your panties; the friction and the vibrations made you squirm.

“Think you can be a good girl and wait till i finish the race or do you i need to remind you how i handle brat?” he said, placing his hand on your thigh again, his fingers grazing just past your panties. 

Your stomach flipped at the warning, and you bit your lip. He chuckled, thumb tracing slow circles against your inner thigh. You stayed silent, not giving him the answer that he wanted.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Alright, fine, works for me” he shrugged, snatching the toy out your hand. 

“Colour?” he asked, you stared at his hand on your thighs, tears pooling your waterline at the lack of pleasure.

“G..green” you stuttered. His smirk was razor-sharp before he moved your panties to the side, rubbing the unmoving toy against your pussy. You gasped, holding onto his forearm. 

He Let it slip around and collect your slick before sliding it into place, covering the toy with your soiled panties. 

“You wanted attention, didn’t you? Well now you have it, brat” he said, speeding up his car again.

“If i lose because of you, just know, i won’t let you sleep all night. i’ll make you work overtime just for my pleasure,” he said, cleaning his fingers off with his tongue. The sight alone had you clenching around nothing. 

He pulled out his phone again, a single tap was all it took to have you squirming again. He could finally focus on the road again. 

“Hyoma- please” you cried out, wanting his attention back on you.

“Princess this is the lowest speed. relax.” he laughed at your pathetic expression. 

“Hyoma no, turn it off,” your voice hitched, you babbled, tugging at his sleeve. “I don’t like. vibrators. Turn it off please.”

“You don’t get to fucking complain, yn. After all, you wanted this, didn’t you” your stomach turned and twisted. He tapped his phone again, the low buzzing increased, getting louder and faster. 

You slid down your seat, trying to keep your composure but it clearly wasn’t working. 

You whimpered, gripping the seat as he sped up, challenging the car infront of him, the vibrations pulsing between your thighs with every bump, every turn. 

And then—

He cranked it up.

A choked moan slipped from your lips as the intensity spiked, your body jolting as pleasure wracked through you.

“I’m sorry, hyo-ma, i’m sorry” your words came out choked, you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. 

The car was a mere couple kilometres away from the finish line. Chigiri relaxed knowing theres not a single car behind him. He let his hand rest on your thigh again, his long fingers pressed against your panties, really pushing the vibrator up against your throbbing clit and needy hole. 

The streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his sharp features, the smirk on his lips nothing short of cruel. He was enjoying this—enjoying watching you fall apart in the passenger seat while he stayed perfectly composed.

Bastard.

“Wow, it’s a mess down here” he grinned, laughing as you glared at him, lips trembling while you barely held on. 

“Cum.. wanna cum, please” you whined, wrapping your arms around his. Your mascara had melted down your fac,e and your lipstick was wiped off by your tongue. 

“No.”  was all he said as he car crossed the finish line, obviously getting first place. You panicked at the hoard of people that surrounded his car. Thankfully his windows were tinted but chigiri would eventually have to step out and everyone.. They’d see you. They’d see the mess chigiri had made of you.

“Hyoma i’m removing it” you rushed, reaching for the vibrator, it pained you to do this, while you were so close to finishing. 

He let the people tap on his window and the girls scream his name. He leaned over you, moving your panties to push 3 fingers inside your wet hole. The sound made you cringe. he moved his fingers against your gummy walls, making sure you feel the stretch. 

“Hyo-”

“Cum.” he said, using his phone with his other hand to turn the toy up to the highest setting, you choked, biting back a moan. The toy massaged your clit all while his fingers worked magic inside of you and before you knew it, you were cumming on his fingers, covering them with your arousal. 

“Shit, that was hot” he mumbled, taking them into his mouth, kissing your cheek and he stepped out the vehicle. 

You sighed when you felt him turn off the vibrator. He closed the door behind him so no one would see. He came back quickly with a wad of cash in both his hands. he stepped inside, throwing it in the back seat, smirking at you. 

He reached over to remove the vibrator. You both looked at the shiny, wet toy that was covered in your translucent liquid. He smirked while you looked away, flustered. 

“My princess can be such a brat sometimes,” he said against your ear “so next time, before you decide to act up, think about the consequences, alright?” he wiped your eyes with his thumb, expression softening at your angry pout. 

“I’m sorry, i was mean today, i can’t help it. You’re such an attention whore sometimes, i have no choice but to punish you, princess” he said matter of factly before kissing your lips. 

“Let’s go home, yeah? And i’ll spoil my baby with as much attention and dick as she wants” he said and drove past the crowd of people shouting his name.

Taglist: @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @syleepy @samthesimp1 @werfiedeii @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cyberheartrebel @vaelils @narcjsistx @arisaturn

A/n: not edited. this got so much longer than needed. also, idk who it was but this is for the person that requested being chigiri's fussy passenger princess

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thank uuu for the tag sunncy and kenzie <333

1) let the world burn - chris grey

2) tv - mico

open tags to whoever wants to join :)

Your favorite ship chain but Name by a song?

Sure~ requested by my little sister!

Song- The red means I love you!

Tags: @sukunasbathjuice @isabeauwolf @myheromarveldemia @hizashiyamadamic

Have fun!