#SHIGARAKI TOMURA X YOU
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scary-grace · 3 days ago
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(secret) santa, baby - part 7 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic
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Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds
part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii
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part vii (staying in)
“I think everyone else is asleep,” you say, glancing around Toga’s living room. “We can probably turn this off.”
“Still awake,” Spinner says from the armchair, which he stole when Magne left after the end of the third movie. “I’m watching.”
“Yeah? What just happened?” Tomura asks.
“He’s giving everybody weird haircuts,” Spinner says. Close enough. “I have to pay attention. Aiba likes this guy’s movies. She says he’s –”
He yawns. “Nostalgic. I’m watching.”
“Okay, but nobody else is,” you say. “Shouldn’t we call it?”
Tomura glances around the room. Magne left after making everybody sit through Love Actually and Twice left midway through Die Hard because he gets scared of sleeping in other people’s houses, which leaves Toga, the girl she invited, Spinner, Dabi, Tomura, and you. Of everybody who’s left, only you and Tomura can be said to actually be awake. Spinner’s yawning on every other breath, Toga and the girl are cuddled up in the same beanbag, snoring, and Dabi drank too much eggnog and was out like a light before they���d even finished Krampus. You and Tomura are definitely outnumbered.
It’s not like Tomura isn’t tired. Tomura’s really tired. He feels the heaviness in his limbs and the yawns tightening his jaw, but his mind is wide awake, and he’s going to pay attention to every second of the movie you picked. Since he gave up forcing everybody to watch Gremlins in favor of your movie, he wants to make sure it was worth it, and he wants to know exactly what happened in case you want to talk about it afterwards. He’s hoping you do. He’s not ready for you to leave yet.
Tomura wasn’t sure about seeing you outside of work, but then he decided it would help him figure things out. Seeing you around the office is one thing. For him to know if he likes you, he has to know what you’re like outside of work, so he can decide if he’d want to hang out with you then, too. Tomura’s not good at this whole liking-people bullshit. If there was some kind of life skills class where everybody learned it, he probably missed it while he was being homeschooled or in juvie. By the time he got out, halfway through high school, everybody already knew what they were doing. Tomura just has to fumble through somehow.
You make it feel less like fumbling. It makes more sense to Tomura when you’re sitting next to him, roasting Love Actually just like he is, actually paying attention during the horror movie he picked instead of drinking straight through it. You pay attention to things, notice them, just like Tomura’s Secret Santa notices stuff about him. Tomura feels less weird about being noticed than he used to.
But he doesn’t want to just sit here noticing and getting noticed all night long. He wants to talk to you about something that’s not work or whatever dumb Christmas thing is happening, and he can only manage half. “Is this really the first movie you thought of when I said you could pick one?”
“I was trying to pick one you all would like,” you say. Something about that reminds Tomura of the way you wrote your wish list. “I do like this one, though. Some people think it’s stretching it to call it a Christmas movie, but it’s all leading up to Christmas, so I count it.”
Movies that can only be called Christmas movies if Tomura’s stretching it are his favorite kind of Christmas movies. “Why do you like it when it’s going to be sad?”
You glance sideways at him. “What makes you think it’s going to be sad?”
“The grandma telling the story is the main girl when she’s old, and she’s telling it past tense,” Tomura says. You nod. “Besides, he’s – like that. No way is that working out well for anybody.”
“But it could,” you counter. “You might be right about how the story goes, but there’s nothing in the story that says it has to be that way.”
Tomura thought you were awake, but maybe you’re sleepier than he thought. “You mean, other than the whole story so far?”
“I mean –” You trail off. “In some stories, there’s obstacles that can’t be overcome. Like somebody being dead, or something being too wrong to work. And in some stories the obstacles are a choice, kind of. Those are the ones I like.”
Tomura’s played games where choices matter. Somehow he always stumbles into the bad ending, and knowing that there’s a good ending out there that he was too stupid to get makes it even worse. If you like those stories, you’re probably better at making choices than he is. Still – “If the end’s the same, why does it matter?”
“Well –”
“Hey, can you save the philosophy until after the movie?” Spinner yawns. “I’m still trying to watch.”
Tomura gives it five minutes until Spinner passes out, and he’s only off by about thirty seconds or so. Now it’s just the two of you awake, watching the weird movie you picked. Tomura’s trying hard to watch the movie, but just like he keeps getting the song you sang stuck in his head, he keeps getting stuck looking at you.
The movie ends like Tomura thought it would – sadly, but not surprisingly – and he glances at you. “You’re going to say she could have chosen to stay with him,” Tomura says, and you nod. “Why would she do that? When he’s – like that –”
Tomura doesn’t get why he’s being squeamish about calling it like it is. The main character’s ugly. Scary. Nothing anybody wants to touch. “Maybe she likes him how he is,” you say. You’re not looking at the screen anymore. You’re looking at Tomura. “There’s nothing about the story that says she couldn’t have picked him. There’d have been consequences, but there are always consequences. And I guess that’s why it’s sad. Knowing it could have been the other way just as easily.”
You look away from Tomura, and even though he usually hates being looked at, he sort of misses it. “I guess it’s good that everybody fell asleep,” you say. “This doesn’t really seem like a sad-Christmas crowd.”
“Sad Christmas makes more sense than happy Christmas,” Tomura says before he can really think about it. “It never made sense to me, except –”
Making friends. Spending the holidays with them instead of wondering why everybody but him got to celebrate with people they mattered to. And he’ll never admit it to Toga, or anyone, but the Secret Santa thing is kind of fun. He likes leaving stuff for you and seeing how you react. Almost as much as he likes getting things from whoever his Secret Santa is.
“Yeah,” you say, like he’s explained it all out loud. Maybe he’s tired enough that he has and just didn’t realize. “I can see that.”
You’re doing that noticing thing again. Tomura keeps looking at you, trying to notice you back, but the longer the two of you look at each other, the weirder it starts to feel between you. Like there’s something more that needs to happen. Tomura steels himself, braced for whatever you do or to act as soon as he has an idea of what to do.
And then you look away. “It’s late. I should go.”
“You could stay,” Tomura says. “None of us except Toga live here, and we’re all sleeping over.”
You look like you’re thinking about it. Tomura can think of a lot of reasons why you should – it’s late, it’s cold, it’s probably a long way to your apartment, you’d basically have to wake up again by the time you got home – but before he can say any of them, you nod. “Okay. Where should we sleep?”
You end up with your heads at opposite ends of the couch, under the same blanket. Both of you rustle around, knees knocking together as you try to settle in. You fall asleep faster than Tomura does. There’s no way he can imagine you tangling your legs up with his if you were awake, and Tomura’s so focused on trying to live with being this close to someone that the question of whether he likes you is answered definitively offscreen. It’s something he wakes up with. Just like he wakes up still sharing the couch with you.
<- part vi part viii ->
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months ago
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tomura likes to just watch you. in a creepy but also not so creepy way.
and it doesn't have to be anything special, he's perfectly okay just watching you write something down for your classes or you scrolling on your phone or something and he'd be perfectly fine just looking at you from your bed. although he usually prefers hogging your work chair because it accommodates the nasty slouch i just know he has.
one leg crossed and even his head resting on his fist as he almost admires you. he doesn't look particularly pleased, but trust me he is. there's just something so intriguing about you just being you to him. and he won't say anything either, never expect him to. not even if you stare at him excepting a response he'll just look right back. unblinking. at most after an intense little staring session he'll croak out a "..what ?" and if you ask him what he's looking at he'll just shrug, tell you to "just keeping doing whatever you we're doing just now." and keep staring like a creepazoid.
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kingtomura · 9 months ago
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Cat and mouse
synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc
You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 
“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 
She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”
“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 
She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 
You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 
“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 
“Thank you.”
“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  
“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 
It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”
That hurt the most. 
You had no idea what he was up to. 
Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 
Maybe he’s found someone else. 
The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 
You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 
God, what if that was why it was so easy?
You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 
Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 
To your surprise, he hadn’t. 
He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 
You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 
There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 
“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 
“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 
Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 
Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 
There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 
If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 
You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.
It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.
You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 
“We should probably get ready now, huh?”
Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.
“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 
—-
Girl’s night was a bust.
The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.
In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 
You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 
The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 
One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 
The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 
You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.
You had fallen asleep with everyone else.
The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.
Tomura. 
Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 
Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.
Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 
When are you coming to get your shit?
I’m tired of waiting.
And I’m deleting our farm btw. 
The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 
But the third message…
Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?
This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.
Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 
Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.
Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 
There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.
After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 
You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”
He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 
Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”
Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”
“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 
“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”
Of course you knew that. 
You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 
Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 
So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 
“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 
Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.
“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.
You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.
It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 
But things are always easier said than done. 
You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 
He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”
“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.
“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.
You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”
“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.
It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 
“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”
“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”
Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 
“Could've fooled me.”
“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 
“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”
“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”
“Bullshit—”
“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 
He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”
“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?
Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 
“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”
And there it is.
Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 
You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 
He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 
Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 
His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”
You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 
“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”
He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 
Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 
“You’re fucking annoying.”
“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 
He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 
The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 
You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  
It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 
But that was not how you were.
And he loved it.
You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.
Push and pull. 
Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 
“Stop walking away from me!” 
He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 
You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 
“What are you going to do about it?” 
The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 
You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 
You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.
It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 
Cat and mouse. 
You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 
“Not so tough now, are you?”
It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 
Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 
He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”
You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”
His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 
Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 
You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 
Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 
He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”
“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”
There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 
His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 
The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 
“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 
“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.
There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.
The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 
You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 
He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 
The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.
“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 
The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 
“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”
It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 
Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 
He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 
“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 
Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 
You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 
So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 
“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.
He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 
He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 
You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 
There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.
It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.
Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 
“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 
“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”
And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 
“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”
He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 
“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 
Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 
“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 
You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  
It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 
“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.
“Tomura, I—“
“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 
“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.
“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”
“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”
You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 
He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 
The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 
He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 
The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.
You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 
It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 
Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 
“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”
“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 
“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.
“You told me to go.” 
“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”
“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”
“I just said I didn’t—“
“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 
You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 
He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”
“But you’ve never said it!”
“I show it!”
“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 
He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”
You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 
“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”
You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.
“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 
Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 
“Tomura…” 
“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”
You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.
“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”
Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 
“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 
And it’s the truth. 
Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.
He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 
It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 
You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.
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inkykeiji · 8 months ago
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warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, fem!reader, toxic relationship, tomura’s just playing with your pussy tbh words: 441
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ever since you started fucking, tomura has developed an irritating little habit. 
irritating, because it is unintentionally teasing. irritating, because he refuses to fuck you without performing this little ritual first. 
kneeling between your spread thighs, his palm curls around the base of his cock, holding it steady as he caresses your slit with the head—back and forth, back and forth, easily gliding over your swollen clit, now slicked with your arousal and his pre-cum. he almost burrows the head into your folds, his eyes shimmering with awe, breath exhaled through parted lips in little pants, mouth licked raw and glazed with saliva, watching as your lips cling to him, try to pull him closer, to suck him in, delicate skin bulging while he slides his cock along it again. 
his skin is flushed and hard and glittering so prettily in the dim light, coated with you, coated with you both, the tip just barely dipping into your hole on his stroke up, snagging on it slightly. 
he’s fascinated by your body, by what he can do to your body, by the way your little cunt clenches in response when he rubs the head in slow, hard circles, then in fast, light motions, another little dribble of slick oozing out of it—another rush of heat to your core, another flame left to smoulder beneath his titillation. 
it enchants him, the way his head skipping over your engorged clit sends bolts rippling through your flesh, chased by a wave of chills. 
it enraptures him, the way your pelvis rolls up as his tip catches on your hole again, trying to fuck him into you, your sweet whine of frustration met with a self-satisfied chuckle. 
“don’t be greedy,” he tells you, even as he defies his own order, selfishly stretching time as he plays with you, grinding the slit of his head into your clit. “you’ll get my cock when i’m ready to give it to you.” 
there’s an implicit threat sewn into his singsong tone; behave, or you won’t get anything at all. 
and so you still, like the good little girl you are, and let him have his fun, marvelling at your cunt as if it’s the first time all over again, sending tiny flares of pleasure searing through your veins, sparking hot cinders in the pit of your stomach to a dull glow, desperate to catch flame. 
but he’ll never get sick of this, he swears it, he’s breathing as he finally pushes in, ill-prepped cunt straining around his girth, his gaze glued to your conjoined bodies. your body was fucking made for him, he’s sure of it. 
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ectologia · 1 year ago
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I don't know how to explain this but bear with me! Reader and Tomura have a dynamic of a popular girl who is secretly a total masochist and a nerdy incel guy who is a degenerate freak and gets off humiliating and degrading the reader. Not sure if that was coherent but it's been rotting my brain and I needed to share
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♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝒟𝐼𝒞𝐻𝒪𝒯𝒪𝑀𝒴 ؛ 𝓉𝑜𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒶 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓀𝒾
𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ノ noncon ノ quirkless au ノ college au ノ bullying ノ abuse ノ graphic violence ノ unhealthy relationship ノ blood ノ profanity
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“Hey, Tomura.”
Blood-reds peer up at you through fluttery, moth-like lashes. Pale and silken like an angel’s. He tugs his headphones down to rest around his neck before setting his phone in his lap. “Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?” You thumb a lock of hair behind your ear.
He’s dubious by the way your friends chitter behind you. Petite hands and manicured nails swat at each-other, hissing between smirks. His ankles uncross, planting themselves firmly on the ground as though in preparation. He winces through his response. “Yeah.”
“What’s wrong with your skin?”
You’ve barely finished your sentence before you’re doubling over with witchy cackles, the girls behind you following suite.
Tomura doesn’t find it funny at all, in-fact, he doesn’t even understand the joke. Dull nails rake at his protruding collarbone before sinking further into the pool of his hoodie, swimming nose deep in the black fabric. “I have a skin condition..”
A piggish voice squeals from behind you. “What’s it called? Not washing?”
He scowls, biting a scabbed-over chunk of blood from his lip, shrinking further into his hunched position in an attempt to make himself as small as possible, or as small as you can be after being picked apart by a bunch of snot-nosed bitches.
You get the last laugh as you strut off with your group, leaving him boiling with rage. Clutching his phone between a set of white knuckles and wringing the strap of his bag in the other. His palms split inside his fists, wretched and shaking with ire.
Of course, that was only the first of many instances.
He remembers on another account, when you’d pulled his hood down in-front of everyone and sneered in disgust at the powdered nest of matted white hidden beneath. Or when you and your gaggle of other titless twats thought it would be fun to fling food at him during lunch, sealing the deal by dumping a fresh load of apple juice into his lap. He’d waddled home that evening, quivering at the sticky feeling of liquid squelching in the pocket of his underwear. Or another time, when you’d tripped him up on the way to his seat, howling with laughter along with everybody else as he laid face down in the middle of the classroom, snivelling with a scuffed chin and bruised cheek.
But, despite everything.. all these things added up — just makes it that much more delicious when he finally gets to face you alone.
Tomura’s palm collides with your face, once on the left side and then on the right, knocking you about with a heavy hand bludgeoning you to the brink of death.
Your whimpers only spur him on as he kicks your heels in, sending you flying, knees splitting atop the sharp gravel coating the ground. “Tomu—”
“Shut the fuck up.” A rubber sole plants itself onto your cheek, imprinting it’s swirled pattern into your skin in a heap of dust. He stands above you, stoic and proud, uncaring of the sickening crunch that erupts from your broken cartilage. “You shut your fuckin’ mouth, I can’t be asked to listen to your whinin’ right now. I’ve already got a fuckin’ headache.”
You heave through the stream of bubbling crimson pooling on your tongue. “I’m sorry, Tomur—”
“Oi, what’d I just say?” He kicks you again, digging the tip of his red sneakers into your stomach. Swinging his leg back, he clobbers you, battering your, no doubt, already bruised body further. “Stupid — fucking — dumb — ass — bitch.”
A spill of blood accompanies your gasps, left retching and writhing and clutching at the ground, clawing at the loose stones dotted about the pavement.
“You like that, huh?” He crushes your fingers, twisting and grating them into the concrete as you scream, clinging to his shins in prayer. “Yeah, you do. You fuckin’ love it.”
He squats down to cradle your chin in his palm, craning your neck back into a painful arch. “Who’s my little bitch? — That’s right you are.” He coos at you through grit-teeth, pressing down on your popped lip with the pad of his thumb. “You are..” He whispers before letting the weight of your head fall again.
“I hope you’re thirsty.”
The zip of a fly has your ears perking, squinting through your lashes at the pale length throbbing in his palm, slit already frothing with pre. “Get that fucking tongue out.”
“Wait, Tomura, please!—”
“What? — I don’t think I asked you, you cock-sucking little bitch.” He brandishes his cock like a weapon, squeezing it between dangerous fingers. “Get that tongue out now, before I do it myself.”
You comply with a whimper. Statuesque as you point your tongue out wide, leaking thick globs of drool over your chin and onto your shirt.
“Better.”
It wouldn’t be uncommon to expect the plush velvety feel of a salty tip prodding at your mouth, snaking its sweaty shaft down your gullet. But this time, you’ve been particularly naughty.
“You think it’s fuckin’ funny, huh? Gettin’ your little boyfriends to jump me in the bathroom?” He clutches your neck in a vice grip, jostling your spooked form. “Well, since you seem to like playin’ around toilets so much — I’ve got you a little gift.”
His fat dick jumps while a stream of urine accompanies his harsh jerking. “Yeah, get it down ya’.” He whistles, shooting the acidic stream of piss straight to the back of your throat, making a game of it as you gag and cack at the air.
“Had enough?” He angles his cock down, allowing you a burst of air but soiling your clothes in the process.
You nod frantically, gurgling with bubbles foaming.
“That’s cute.”
He sprays the last few acrid droplets over your forehead, letting it drench your hair to the root and then some.
Your nose wrinkles at the smell, putrid and pungent and most likely undiluted by the amount of water you know he drinks, or lack of.
You’re hoisted onto your feet by a pair of hands. Looking down, you see how the curve of his cock slaps against your hip. Propped up against the wall, he hikes your legs up over his elbows, pinning you into a tight hold where you’d have no chance at escape. He only peels the crotch of your underwear to the side, letting your chubby folds do the rest of the work by holding it in place while sliding his uncut prick up and down the little triangle placed between your thighs.
“Preparation isn’t needed when you don’t deserve it”, Is what he whispers into your ear, stale breath warm and ticklish against your canal as he begins to sheath himself inside, chunky mushroom tip popping through the first ring of muscle before feeding the rest through. It’s akin to being impaled in the awkward position, sat without a centre of gravity on a hot, girthy pole, just twitching to tear you through the middle and come out the other end.
Tomura’s eager to hurt you, already humping you against the bricks, bouncing you up and down with guttural and down-right animalistic grunts. The noises are purposeful, he doesn’t need to make such strange sounds but he much prefers the curl between your brows to the foggy look in your eyes.
“I’m fuckin’ you.” It’s an odd but factual statement. “I’m fuckin’ your pussy. My dick is inside you. You get that? Raw.”
“Uh, huh.” Your jaw whips up and down, soft as your tongue hangs out.
He’s unsure whether to scowl or smirk — so he settles for a bit of both, catching a lip between his stained teeth. “You’re a freak.“ Forehead to forehead, he puffs into your mouth, loving you down with a thumb digging into your crack “What would all your friends say, hm? That you like gettin’ your ass beat and raped after school everyday.”
Sharpened fingernails dig into the flesh of his striped neck, crying out with dewy eyes falling, rolling behind sunken eyelids. “Ngh.. I’m.. I — gonna’..”
He smacks your face for the umpteenth time, a litter lighter than the others. Perhaps even a tap. “Don’t you dare.”
“Ca..”
Your toes curl inside your socks and your pussy tightens, twisting and pulling on his engorged manhood despite his obvious protests. He drops you on your rear, startling your spinal cord as you hit the concrete with a thud, legs still shivering and clitty still pulsing with the shattered remains of your ruined orgasm.
Tomura growls with a livid expression as his cock spurts, still throbbing with the remembrance of your gummy hole massaging him. His balls tighten and he throws his head back, canines bared as he lets the white darts shoot out onto your face.
“God — shit — wasn’t meant to fucking cum..” He murmurs, dabbing a knuckle over the damp sheen across his forehead.
He cracks his neck, then zips up his pants, shaking off the tension held between his shoulders before snapping his fingers, nudging your crouched form with the toe of his shoe. “Come on then, hand it over.” He demands with an almost exasperated sigh.
Panting, you turn to rummage through your bag. With two $20 notes crumpled in your palm, you offer them to the man with timid, shaking hands.
Enthusiastic as he snatches the paper from you, he eyes the green with scrunched carmines before clicking his tongue. “Seriously, $40 bucks? That’s it? I even made you cum you stingy cunt.” He looms over you with a menacing glare.
“Uhm.. I.. there’s..” You search through your pockets in a frenzy. “I don’t have any more on me..”
“Well, that’s gonna’ be a problem then, isn’t it?”
“I.. I can give it to you tomorrow! I’ll get you another 20!”
He tuts, narrowing his eyes at you before turning on his heel. “Make it 30.”
As he moves to make his leave, you begin to crawl with desperation, reaching out for him with an outstretched arm. “Wait!”
“What.”
“..Do.. Do you want to hang out this weekend?..” He thinks you resemble a love-sick puppy with the way you blink up at him. “..Please?.. Tomu-kun?..”
There’s a hint of a smile that plays on his cracked lips as he looks down at you, still thumbing the creased bills in his pocket. “Hm.. Actually—”
“Make it another 40.”
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bennysblabbering · 2 months ago
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Alleyway Rendezvous
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Kinktober: "Sex Pollen" || Tomura Shigaraki x reader
contents: villain!reader, desperation, semi-public sex, clothed sex, hair pulling, dirty talk
words: 0.9k
g/n afab reader
↓ Ficlet below the cut ↓
A pink haze fills the air as the enemy runs off, middle finger up as he shoots you one last look with his tongue out. A simple petty gang had blocked your way, all of which you and your boss had taken care of swiftly- save for one who managed to slip through your grasp. The two of you cough and wheeze, the sickeningly sweet cotton candy-like scent filling your lungs. You start to walk quickly, any possible direction to get away from the fog- clearly the effect of the surviving enemy’s quirk as a means to get away. You had no clue what this would do to your body; it could cause asphyxiation, hallucinations, or worse. You both had to get away and get away fast.
“Y/N…”
Shigaraki’s voice comes out forced and weak, completely unlike the assertive man you were used to. You turn to see him leaning against the wall for support, his normally intense red eyes glazed over, looking up at you as he takes in labored breaths. Looking at him in this state makes it dawn on you what that quirk had done, because it was starting to take hold of you too.
It’s an aphrodisiac.
It almost felt like you were put under a spell and were magnetized to each other. You couldn’t resist the intense temptation running rampant through your body, especially now that you looked down and noticed the tent in the other man’s pants.
In an instant, your faces are plastered to each other, your mouths messily connecting and the generous saliva spreading across your lips and cheeks. Your hands wander around and across each other’s bodies as he firmly presses you against the wall, hooking your knee under his arm and hiking it around his hip. Eagerly he grinds himself onto you, his face lowering to place needy and wet kisses along your neck. You sigh in satisfaction, wrapping your arms around his back and grinding back with just as much fervor.
“Fuck, boss…this shit’s really potent…”
“I know, I know, I know. God, I’m so fucking horny, holy shit. I need to fuck you, right now.”
You nod, pulling your bottoms down just to your knees before turning around and bending over, spreading your already soaked folds to be penetrated by the villain. Immediately he unbuttons his pants, freeing his painfully hard cock, throbbing endlessly from the desperation to be inside you. He places one hand on your hip sans pointer finger, the other hand lining himself up and sliding in with a hiss. Both of you screw your eyes shut with a long moan, the satisfaction of the penetration clouding your minds. 
He wastes no time to see if you’ve accommodated to his length before he starts up at a brutal pace, the loud slaps of your combining thighs amplified from the reverb of the alley walls. Your eyes glass over and drool falls from your lips as he aggressively shoves his hips back and forth, fucking into you like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Helplessly you whimper repeatedly, the pure pleasure of being railed by your horny leader completely taking over your mind. 
“Shit, Y/N…this pretty pussy feels so fucking good…”
“Y-yeah? You feel f-fucking amazing, the way y-your cock stretches me…”
“Fuckin’ love how tight you are. Feels like you were made to take my dick.”
“Haaah…uh-huh…”
You nod as he continues to relentlessly bully his cock into your cunt, slipping effortlessly in and out of your slick walls, the red and swollen head kissing your cervix on every thrust. A slender hand reaches up to your hair, pulling on it while he keeps up his relentless rhythm. 
“You fuckin’ like being railed like a slut, don’t you? You like when I fuckin’ pound your hole like this?”
You can only mewl in response, the pure force of his frenzied hips driving you to insanity. “Uh-huh….”
He chuckles, growling as he reaches down to place a finger on your clit; a digit capable of so much violence and power, placed on the sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing it back and forth with just as much passion as the rest of his body.
“If you wanna be a good little whore, you’re gonna listen to me. This is an order, got it?”
You nod weakly, wanting nothing more than to be obedient for your commanding and intimidating boss. You can already feel yourself building to a climax, when his final word sends your body over the edge.
“Cum.”
Your knees buckle and you cry out as your cunt clenches, a pure numbness washing over you as you roll your eyes back and release all over Shigaraki’s cock, still drilling into you and fucking you through your orgasm. You can tell he’s close too by the way he’s groaning and his hips eventually still, spilling ropes of hot cum into you. The two of you ride out your intense highs for a few moments, his arms caging you and both of your connected bodies rocking back and forth.
After the hazy climax subsides, the effects of the quirk fade away, the both of you breathing deeper as he pulls out of you, his seed starting to drip from your abused hole. You stand up with shaking legs, pulling up your pants and grimacing at the uncomfortable sensation of putting on underwear with a wet and messy undercarriage. 
“Didn’t know you could fuck like that, boss. We’ll have to do that again.”
He huffs, tucking his softening cock away with a smirk. “Absolutely.”
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for some reason i just did not have a ton of muse today, im so sorry!!! i hope its still enjoyable anyway. humbly apologizing to my shigaraki fucker readers.
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actuallysaiyan · 8 days ago
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95 with Tomura please ❤️
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warnings: smut, unprotected sex, Tomura has a decent control on his Quirk, semi-public sex, mentions of oral sex(Fem receiving), mentions of vaginal fingering| dividers: @adornedwithlight
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Nobody knows that you two have fallen for one another. To anyone else in the League, you two just work well together. Outside of that, Tomura doesn’t show you any favouritism. In fact, he does his best to try and ignore you whenever he can.
It’s not that he wants to. He’s just trying to protect you. He worries that if people knew you two are together, you’d have an even bigger target on your back. He knows you’re tough and can take up for yourself, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He cares so much about you.
Spending any kind of intimate time together is almost impossible. There’s always someone lingering around any of the hideouts that you live in. Whenever he gets a chance to be intimate with you, it has to be quick. So Tomura often results in eating you out or fingering you and having to go jerk off in the shower or something of the sort.
Finally, you get a chance to have a private moment together. It’s fiery and passionate, and Tomura is almost eating your face with the hungry kisses he places on your lips. He needs you so badly. His hands are carefully kneading your breasts and he focuses wholeheartedly on not accidentally dusting you.
Most of the time, Tomura makes sure there is at least one finger off of you. He’s practiced this with you over time. There’s not been one instance where he hurt you either. He’s very good to you.
“Gonna fuck my little lover,” he says with a grin on his face. “Finally get to fuck you.”
He strips you of your clothes, and soon he pulls down his pants and his boxers. He has you bent over his bed, and he slowly slides into you. The fact of the matter is, someone could come into the hideout at any time and be looking for either one of you.
Tomura tries to keep his grunts to a minimum, but damn your little pussy is just sucking him in greedily. He can’t help himself when he begins to pound into you, making you squeak and mewl in pleasure. The way you’re trying not to make too much noise only serves to turn him on even more. He knows that you two shouldn’t be doing this in the middle of the afternoon, but damn it’s hard not to take advantage.
Just then, someone comes into the hideout. Tomura slows his pace to listen, and he realizes it’s Spinner and Dabi. He doesn’t stop, instead just preferring to go at a slow pace. He reaches down to rub your clit, making you leak a little more all over his fat cock.
“Quiet baby,” he coos when you moan. “The others will hear. We don’t want that, do we?”
You try to shake your head ‘no’, but with the way he keeps brushing up against your sweet spot, all that comes out of you are sweet little moans. With a few more thrusts, you’re seeing stars and you’re whining his name.
“Did you hear that?” Spinner asks Dabi in the other room.
Dabi shrugs, “Nope. And you didn’t either.”
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tomura-complex · 11 months ago
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✮ Personal assistence ✮
I shall present to you a new down to core kinky oneshot: Tomura Shigaraki x Bunny!Reader
TW: NSFW, she/her pronouns, p in v sex, praise, degradation, caught while having sex
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This job was a step into a better life with better salary. Even though you were just an assistant. The job was quite simple, but hectic. After two months, you were doing everything for your boss… for the great commander of the Paranormal Liberation Front. Re Destro was really happy about your work and he applied you to an even better position. The personal assistant of Tomura Shigaraki. Your work got even more hectic and you practically became Shigaraki’s shadow. And if you accidentally had some free time, you still followed Shigaraki like a puppy. A puppy… with white rabbit ears and a small white rabbit tail. Such a perfect assistant!
First weeks in the new position were… awkward. Your office was in his. You just had a small desk with a computer, calendar and a phone. You just sat all day by the desk and arranged his schedule to his likings. That meant changing his schedule all the time, because he was lazy and then making excuses and calling everyone from his meetings. But after quite a lot of days you started to know each other’s presence. You memorized his favorite meals and his favorite coffee. And he stopped being so whiny, so you had less work with his schedules. Things were getting better. You followed him to every meeting taking notes of the important things and every time you were walking in the hallway, his big hand rested on your back. Always. Every walk with him by the hall. When you sat by your desk and arranged a new meeting for him, he always went to you after the call and looked at his schedule, while slightly holding your thigh. When you got him coffee, he always slightly stroked your ass and the back of your thighs and asked about his next task.
These slight touches slowly became grasps and firm holds. Your whole day routine changed to be in more contact with him. “Good morning sir.” you chirped and put his coffee in his favorite place. “Thank you darling.” He mused and slapped your ass. “What are we dealing with today?” “Just a meeting with the league members at 2 pm. That’s all for today.” You smiled and felt his hand traveling under your short skirt and pinching one of your cheeks. You squealed and jumped a little, your tail twitching. “You forget something.” Tomura said firmly. “T-that’s all for today… sir.” You mumbled and he grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap. “Such a good girl.” He mused and your ears lowered a little. Praising was always your weak spot. His hand wandered from your ass to your knee and back. He squished your thighs and looked at some documents. “Maybe we should try something new.” He looked at you. Hunger and lust in his eyes and a raging problem in his tight pants. You gulped. One of his hands trailed to your face, stroking your cheek and stroking your lips with his thumb. “I always wondered how your cute and little mouth would feel on my cock. Get to work darling. So you can go back to your work as soon as you can.” He smiled at you, his eyes almost hypnotizing you. “Y-yes sir.” You whispered and got onto your knees under his desk. You always liked him… admired him, his power. Your soul always screamed when he touched you. Always wanting more. Your hands gently unzipped his pants, your ears lowering to your head and your tail twitching with excitement. You pulled down his pants and boxers to reveal his raging boner. It was… Thicker than you expected. He had beautiful veins on his full length and his scent… Oh god. It was even more hypnotizing than his eyes. And his heavy balls full to their brim ready for release. You gently licked his cock and then took him in your mouth. “Mm. I have my new favorite sight.” He grinned and watched as your head bobbed on his dick. From this perfect state startled Shigaraki a knock on the door. “Come in.” He said while smiling at your surprised look and gesturing you to keep up. Another assistant walked inside. “W-where is your assistant?” On Tomura’s face appeared a shit eating grin. “She went on a quick break. What is it?” “We got new information about heroes’ patrol shifts.” “Great. Put them on her desk.” He mumbled and after a while you heard the door closing. You met his ruby eyes and smiled. He chuckled and relaxed. His hand stroked your ears and grabbed your hair. He started guiding your head to his favorite rhythm, making you gag. Such a beautiful sound and view. After this joyful moment you felt him tense up. His hand pulled you into his groin, his pubic hair tickling you. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt his cock squirting semen into your throat, making you gag even more. He loosened his grip and you pulled away gulping for air. “I have a new daily task for you.” He grinned. “I’m glad sir.” You smiled.
After this encounter, every day was wilder. Your throat was sore everyday, but it was worth it. But this time Tomura decided to push this encounter into something even more. You finally had a free afternoon and you don’t even know how it happened. The sound of wet skin slapping echoed through his office room. You laid on your clean desk, his hands firmly holding your hips. The scent of making out masked your senses and his grunts were the only thing you could hear. You grabbed his tie and lowered him to you kissing his lips. Tomura smiled. “Such a good assistant… ugh… We need to do this more. Imagine me bending you over. Fucking you in front of a mirror. Or in front of the windows. Or in the meeting rooms.” Your ears twitched. “Oh, you would like that? Yeah? My cute slut would like that?” He grinned and kissed your nipples. You mewled and your back arched. All of this was too much for you. The knot in your abdomen finally snapped and you slightly squirted on his shirt. “Oh fuck.” He mumbled and admired your exhausted body. He grabbed your ass firmly and sped up. He huffed, towering above you. He kissed you feverishly and came right inside your cunt. He mused happily and slowed down. He picked up the phone and gave it to you. “Call and get me a new shirt.” You smiled and dialed the phone. After a while, someone knocked on the door. You slowly got up leaving his embrace and his softening cock. You arranged your clothes and picked up his clothes. “Here sir.” You smiled and gave him the shirt.
Since then you were fucking like rabbits. That fits you, right? You were fucking everywhere you could, missing some appointments and dealing with it later. You sat on his lap cockwarming him, while he thought about his new plans. Sometimes he fucked you only to torture you by making you call and arrange meetings while your session. The only one who knew about your little affair was Schuichi. You once stayed after your shift, only for a make out session. You ended up stuck in a room with cleaning products. It was small and cramped, but you still fit in there. You were pushed against the wall and your legs were around his waist. He fucked you up the wall not wanting to stop. “I… Got you something.” He huffed and kissed your neck. “What is it sir?” You smiled at him. And then you felt it. A fabric around your neck. You looked at him. “It fits you well.” You take it in your hands and look at it. It was white collar with a name sewn on it. It said: “Bunny”. You smiled. “Thank you so much.” I beamed and kissed him passionately. Your faces were met with a big stream of light. Schuichi stood by the opened door looking flabbergasted with an open mouth. You felt your cheek heat up and you hid your face in Tomura’s chest. “I just wanted… to get the new markers.” Schuichi mumbled and Tomura handed them to him and closed the door back. Then he bursted laughing and you chuckled. You never noticed why Schuichi needed these markers. Maybe for one of these meeting rooms?
Time flew by and you started living with him. Assisting him every minute of his life. Your relationship was now official and the league was happy for Tomura. You snuggled into him sitting with the league on the couch on a movie night. Tomura smiled and toyed with your bunny tail. You blushed and cuddled into him. He lowered to you and whispered into your ear. 
“I can’t wait for the night to breed your tummy to the brim.”
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A/n: Thank you so much for reading this! I stitched this up just from my kinky thoughts from lonely nights. And here is a little secret! I'm planning another oneshot from an office AU, where reader is the boss and Tomura is a hardworking employee in a need of a reward!
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solarspirit · 5 months ago
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Hello I hope your having a good day I would like to request a shigaraki x reader hc on how you think he’d be in a romantic relationship with reader do you think he’d be a good bf or bad? And how would he be before and after the mla
If you don’t want to do this or it’s braking any rules they just ignore it
you get me!! definitely think Tomura would change a lot after joining the MLA and PLF.
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(pretend i didn't get this ask in feburary)
Shigaraki Relationship Headcanons
Pre MLA:
It’s not that Tomura’s a bad boyfriend on purpose. He just doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. 
It’s hard for him to believe that you actually want him in the first place. You’d have to reassure him every once in a while that you do love him and need him around. On the outside, he’ll brush it off and say he knows that already, but it does make him feel better. 
In a relationship, he’d be pretty selfish. He’d put his goals with the League first, even if it ends up negatively affecting your relationship. Once he’s set on a task, the most important thing to him is completing it regardless of what happens to him. He’ll ignore your protests of it being too dangerous or time-consuming until he gets it done. 
It’d be different every day with him. On some days he’s clingy and wants you within arm's reach all day, and on other days it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. 
You’d have to deal with his tantrums, too. Sometimes he’ll take it out on you and other times he wants you there to listen to him rant about it. It’s unpredictable. 
He’d have a hard time displaying affection–instead of actual words, he’d let you pick out the game you’ll play together for once or randomly come back from an outing with your favorite food.
Physical touch is rare with Tomura, too. Even if you figure out some way to block his Quirk, he doesn’t trust it. He just can’t risk destroying something as important as you. The countless incidents of accidentally dusting things hold him back from touching you. 
 He won’t even risk falling asleep on the couch with you, let alone sleep in the same bed as you. 
When he does feel like he can touch you, the most you’ll get is your pinkies being linked or three fingers resting on your thigh.
Post MLA:
Still doesn’t fully know what he’s doing but it’s getting better! 
Tomura’s more aware now. His goals still take precedence, especially with attaining All For One being so near, but he’ll think of you more. He sees how upset you were after he’s almost killed by ReDestro and realizes he probably needs to think more about your feelings too. 
He’s much more likely to listen to you–if you plead for him to stay and not move onto another dangerous mission so quickly, he’ll sigh and agree begrudgingly, wanting to make you happy. 
He’s more mature now, too. His tantrums are basically gone, but when he’s frustrated with all these new people in the MLA, he’ll still use you as the person to vent his frustrations too. He knows you'll listen to him without being annoying about it.
Tomura’s still not big on verbal affection, but with the new money from the MLA, he’s able to get you whatever you want. The most romantic words you’ll get from him are “I got you this” and an expensive present tossed in your lap. 
If you’re a member of the League/MLA, he does tell you that he values you much more than the others. In his mind that’s almost like saying he loves you.
He’d still have his days where he wanted to be left alone, but they’re much less dramatic than before. He'll sulk by himself for a bit but won't be as rude about it.
The biggest change is physical touch. Now that he can choose when Decay activates, he needs to make up for all the times he wanted to touch you and couldn’t. 
It doesn’t matter what you’re doing–playing games together, reading, sleeping, even at an  MLA meeting–Tomura wants to be touching you. He’s constantly near you, arms wrapped around you or a hand on your body. Your space is now also his space.
Forget needing your own room in the Gunga Mountain Villa. He wants you around almost all the time, including being in bed with him.
He’ll only agree to let you go when you need to use the bathroom or something similarly urgent.  Touching you is his way of showing he loves you and needs you, even if he won’t say it. 
Overall, he’s much more attentive and mature than before, even if he still doesn't know what he's doing.  
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moonie-rambles · 8 days ago
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can't stop thinking of shigaraki who discovers that he prefers unshaved pussy way better than a smooth one.
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i mean, yeah, he's a gamer, so what even are the chances he ever saw a pussy in real life? all the ones he laid his eyes on were on hentai and doujinshis.
you know, the ones that are always drawn all smooth, without a single hair. and okay, he accepts it, thinks that all women just had them like these since, y'know, he never saw one naked in real life.
time skip, you're his sweet girlfriend. yes, creep, evil, villainous shigaraki managed to score a cutie like you. how did he even do it? he's not sure himself, he thinks that god finally had mercy on him when he found you.
so one day, he's particularly stressed about the league, and he just had to lose three rounds of a random game. so you know, now that he actually has someone who will actually willingly hand herself over for him to destress- oh wow, that thought still makes him silly-
shigaraki's over at your house before himself knows it.
he opens the door, how cute for you to give him a spare key! let it be known that he does abuse of that factor, and steps in. he locks it behind him as he searches for you around the house, only to find you coming out of the shower, towel on and wet hair.
you're not surprised to see him there, and just smiled at him all lovingly, dragging his name on your tongue with such fondness that he's practically melting.
before you know it, tomura is pulling you to your room, carefully, but still throwing you on the bed, he tugs at your towel while explaining how badly he needed to destress.
you don't even have time to warn him about the front law being up as he rips the towel out of your body, and his eyes widen as he looks down there.
... popped an instant, throbbing boner, the hardest he ever was in his life.
no seriously, his breath hitched, and he looked so unbelievably hot and bothered that it almost felt feverish to him. shigaraki could barely register how horny he was before he just dived down.
yeah, he'll be confiscating your razors away.
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tell them, moonie: this thought was actually the reason why i created this blog fjengjengjejfdn i really needed to share this with others.
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scary-grace · 2 days ago
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(secret) santa, baby - part 8 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic
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Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds
part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii part ix
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part viii (gift-wrapping)
You don’t know what the last-minute staff meeting is for, but the email looked important, so you show up outside the building’s biggest conference room on the hour, as ordered. As soon as you set foot inside, though, you know this was one you could have skipped. There are piles of gift bags and rolls of wrapping paper on every table, as well as packets of tissue paper and spools of ribbon and actual jars of confetti with scoops in them. On the whiteboard at the front of the room, someone’s written REMEDIAL GIFT-WRAPPING.
You didn’t think your gifts were wrapped that badly. Tomura hasn’t complained. Then again, Tomura doesn’t know you’re the one leaving his gifts, so he wouldn’t know who to complain to if he had a problem. In spite of showing up on time, everybody else somehow got here before you, so you hesitate just inside the doorway, looking for an empty seat. Before you can find one, something moves in your peripheral vision, and you glance over to find Twice beckoning to you. He’s sitting with Spinner, Dabi, and Tomura, and they’ve got an empty seat nearby.
A few weeks ago, you’d have found somewhere else, but you’re much more comfortable with Tomura and his friends than you were before. Seeing them outside of work at Toga’s party probably helped. Seeing them the next morning, waking up with bedhead and low-grade hangovers that could only be cured with diner food, moved them firmly from the category of scary coworkers to people you could call friends. And waking up at one end of Toga’s couch to realize that you’d spent the entire night sharing it and a blanket with Tomura moved him from Secret Santa recipient to something else.
You’re not sure what else, exactly. You’ve been keeping a close eye on him since the Secret Santa thing started, just so you could figure out good times to sneak down to the basement and leave things on his desk, but for the past few days you’ve felt different about seeing him out and about. Instead of being relieved, and using your next free second to race downstairs and plant a gift, you’ve gone to talk to him. Or you’ve stayed put wherever you were and hoped he’d come talk to you. He’s different at work than he is out of it, but now that you’ve seen him the other way, you can’t fail to see that the person who slept on the couch with you is there when he’s here, too.
Work doesn’t bring out the best in him, and work-related holiday festivities are even worse. You can hear him complaining as you make your way over. “I don’t need to learn gift-wrapping. The stuff I leave is fine.”
“No. Spinner’s gifts are fine. Yours look like you’re dropping off a sperm sample,” Dabi says. He’s organizing the pile of gift-wrapping supplies and ignoring the way Tomura swears at him. “It’s not going to kill you.”
“With everybody else here, Toga’s probably not just picking on us,” Spinner says. He spots you coming over and waves. “Hey. You got an invite, too?”
“My gift-wrapping must be worse than I thought,” you say. You drop down into the chair between Twice and Tomura. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Tomura glances quickly at you, then goes back to screwing around with a mostly-empty roll of ribbon. “You have a gift in your mailbox. I saw it when I checked mine.”
You didn’t put a gift in his mailbox today – it’s on his desk again, waiting for him whenever he gets back. You dropped it off after you saw him walk back on the way to the conference room. “I’ll look after we’re done with this. Does this happen every year?”
“No. It’s new.” Tomura scowls. “It sucks.”
“Hi everybody!” Toga’s standing on a chair at the front of the room, waving to catch the room’s attention. “Thanks for stopping by. It’s come to my attention that some of you guys don’t know how to wrap a gift to save your lives, and even though it’s the gift that counts, the way it’s presented matters, too! So for the sake of your Secret Santa recipients, we’re going to go over the basics of gift-wrapping –”
“And we’re going to practice on these,” Midoriya announces, holding up a clear plastic bin that’s full to the brim. “The gifts from the toy drive. Which we need to wrap anyway.”
“I told you we weren’t in trouble,” Spinner says to the group at large.
“No, we’re just free labor.” Tomura’s scowling worse than before. “I can’t wait to count my papercuts afterwards.”
“To help with this,” Toga continues loudly, “every table has at least one person who knows what they’re doing. Compress and Yaoyorozu will go over the basics, and then your group’s expert will help you get going.”
Where’s your table’s expert? You glance around, only to find everyone else looking at you. “We need to work quickly,” Iida announces, even louder than Toga. “It’s imperative that we get these gifts mailed this afternoon. If they’re delayed by the storm, they won’t reach their recipients in time. Do you want to be the reason why needy children go without presents this year?”
“Hey! Iida! That’s kind of harsh,” Midoriya says hastily. Dabi is snickering. “Just do your best, everybody!”
There’s a bin of toys under the table. Compress and Yaoyorozu order everybody to start with something in a box, since they’re easier to work with, but you have a bad feeling you’re the expert, and the things that are weirdly shaped are going to take longer. You take out a plastic dinosaur toy and get to work, listening with half an ear to the instructions. You don’t want to contradict anything they’re saying. It’ll slow things down, and based on the size of the toy bin, you can’t afford that.
You overhear the other supposed experts at the other table, and they seem pretty comfortable giving instructions, but you decide to keep quiet unless somebody asks you something. And somebody does. “Are girls born knowing how to gift-wrap or something?” Spinner asks, staring at the dinosaur toy you’ve successfully mummified in candy-cane wrapping paper. “How did you do that?”
“Practice, I guess?” You don’t really remember somebody teaching you. “It was probably just watching my mom.”
“Maybe you should handle all the weird-shaped shit,” Dabi says. He abandons the box he’s wrapping and starts sorting the toys in the bin. “I want to get out of here sometime this year and that’s not going to happen if you put me in charge of that.”
You nod and pick up the grotesque-looking nutcracker at the top of the pile. To your surprise, everybody else settles down to work quickly – even Tomura, who’s still scowling, and handling the wrapping paper like it might take a bite out of him. The other tables are chattering, but everybody at yours is quiet. Focused. When Midoriya swings by to pick up any wrapped gifts, he has to make two trips to collect all of them from you.
It’s not until you’re starting on the second round of presents that Tomura speaks up. “This isn’t so bad,” he says, and you almost amputate your finger in shock. “I thought it was going to be like that movie.”
“Which –” Dabi interrupts himself, then makes a weird noise. “The one where the guy’s cheating on his wife?”
“And he’s trying to get the clerk to gift-wrap that ugly necklace he bought for his mistress before his wife gets back?” That scene made you cringe. There are lots of scenes in Love Actually that make you cringe, but that one stands out. “Did he actually cheat on his wife or was he just trying to cheat?”
“He’s cheating.” Dabi measures out a huge scoop of glitter and drops it on top of the present he’s wrapping before he tapes the wrapping paper down. “My dad pulls shit exactly like that. Except he was fucking my boyfriend, not his secretary.”
You almost choke on thin air. “He – what?”
“That was ages ago,” Twice says. “They didn’t talk for like – five years. Then Dabi’s sister made them go to family therapy and now Enji makes up for it by giving Dabi money whenever he asks.”
“And when he doesn’t,” Spinner says. Dabi is making a face. “You’re better off, dude.”
“You know how Shigaraki hates Christmas? That’s how Dabi feels about Valentine’s Day,” Twice says. You probably would, too, if your dad had hooked up with your boyfriend. “If you’re still around by then, you can hang out with us. We always celebrate by maxing Enji’s credit card.”
If you’re still around by then. What does that mean? “Sounds fun,” you say, watching as Dabi adds two scoops of glitter to his next present. “Uh, what are you doing?”
“It’s there. We’re supposed to use it,” Dabi says. “The kids will get a kick out of this shit.”
“Yeah, but their parents will hate it.”
Tomura takes a scoop of glitter and pours it in the gift bag he’s been screwing around with. “It’s not about them.”
You remember who the gifts are for all at once. Kids in foster care, whose parents probably suck as a rule. They deserve to have some fun, and you’ve never met a kid who wouldn’t go crazy over a glitter bomb. When you start wrapping your next present, you add some glitter to it, too.
At some point the department heads come looking for all their employees, which is how you find out that Toga didn’t clear the meeting with anybody before she called it. Most of your table takes the opportunity to flee – Dabi first, then Twice, and Spinner after a second’s hesitation. Tomura stops halfway out of his chair when he realizes you’re not getting up. “Aren’t you leaving?”
“My supervisor hasn’t come looking for me yet,” you say. “And there’s still a lot to do.”
You know there’s work waiting for you back at your desk, but it shouldn’t take too long, and Iida’s guilt-trip about the presents definitely got to you. You empty the rest of the toy bin onto the table and grab a box with a model train printed on the front. A chair scrapes next to you as Tomura sits back down, and he lifts the train box out of your hands. “Give me that. I can’t wrap the weird ones.”
You stare at him. You can’t help it. “What are you doing?”
“My supervisor hasn’t come looking for me, either.” Tomura shrugs. “It’ll be faster if I help.”
“You hate this stuff,” you say.
“I’m not going to be the reason needy kids don’t get presents this year.” Tomura’s Iida impersonation is pretty on point, especially when he adds in Iida’s trademark hand gestures. You laugh. “And I haven’t gotten a paper cut yet. Nobody will put up with my bitching next year if I don’t get at least one.”
He says that, and it sounds like him – but somehow you don’t buy it. He’s not making eye contact, and his ears are turning sort of red, and your heart kicks up a weird, fluttery jolt. “If you want to hang out, you can just say that,” you say. “You don’t have to do – I know you hate doing this.”
“This is what you’re doing,” Tomura interrupts you. “That’s the important part.”
That one’s hard for you to parse, so hard that Tomura manages to wrap the train and start on the next gift before you can get even sort of a handle on it. And once you do, you’re not sure you want one. Tomura hates Christmas. Every Christmas thing you’ve seen him do has been done under pressure or threat, and he just got a golden opportunity to escape. Why would he give it up to hang out with you?
There’s one answer. An obvious answer. One you’d believe if it was coming from anybody but him. “I can use the help,” you admit. “Thanks for keeping me company.”
“Yeah.” Tomura reaches for the wrapping paper at the same time as you do, and your hands collide. You thought he’d flinch. You thought you’d flinch. But your hands stay still, poised against one another, for a long moment before Tomura draws away, his fingertips skimming the back of your hand as he goes. “Any time.”
<- part vii part ix ->
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months ago
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also also also tomura almost always eats food that you’ve eaten. like you have to eat it first then he’ll eat it. like you have to try it for him except its your own food he will not touch his plate unless you order him too😭😭
he goes “lemme have a bite” the moment your spoon makes contact with your lips, and when you do he nods, grunts. then asks for some more. and when you say no he’ll scoff, does he really have to do everything around here ?
so he grabs his own spoon and starts scooping up your food. “tomu—eat your own !” you scold, popping is hand and he immediately flies back like you’d punched him “what the hell was that for ?!” he grumbles. “eat your own. it’s the exact same as mine” you insist, huffing.
you’re obviously a little stupid cus of course it’s not the same. you ate yours, that’s the difference, and he wants yours. so he’ll get yours. so when you’re looking away he’ll sneakily steal bites of your food. but then he gets annoyed about sneaking around and just starts taking from your plate again, you can only sigh in frustration as he keeps munching away.
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league-of-simps · 17 days ago
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@booksooks recent baby fever fic with Hawks is making the voices loud (/j). I need to do this for Tomura, like yesterday.
Him keeping you speared on his cock every chance he gets because "this is what you wanted, right?" and "No, this is what I wanted. A successor of my own." Which is funny because he didn't want kids at all before you mentioned it in passing.
This bastard keeps track of your period better than you can, so when he knows you're ovulating he's setting alarms, getting snacks for in-between sessions, making things comfortable. You think it's nice of him to do, but it's just a pre-apology how hard he's going to fuck you when he gets you alone. Hell, if you two are running behind in his expertly crafted schedule, he'll just order everyone out of the room then bend you over the nearest piece of furniture as soon as the door closes.
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kingtomura · 9 months ago
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Arcade
Summary: There's nothing worse than getting ditched by your so-called friends on a Friday night. Well, maybe the asshole complaining about your skills at the arcade has that beat. Tomura Shigaraki knows how to make one hell of a first impression. word count: 8.5k Part three to Good Girl and Bloodline Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, quirkless AU, fluff, angst, virginity loss, virginity kink, corruption kink, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), praise, strict parents, toxic parents, smut with plot, protected sex, piv, overstim, tomura talks you through it, if you know what i mean, reader is kinda bad at games sry, mdni crossposted to ao3 | Part 4 is here!
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You meet him on a Friday.
The mall is crowded and filled to the brim with groups of friends, chattering, laughing – wondering what to get into for the night. You’re just trying to find your group. They said that they would meet you here almost an hour ago, but no one has shown up. 
Bitterly you kick the small rock in front of you, officially accepting the fact that you had been ditched and decide it’s too early to go home. It’s a Friday night for pete’s sake. You walk aimlessly through the mall, only pausing when the noises of video game lasers and hyper dance music flood your ears. 
The arcade. Of course you could kill some time there, people go there alone all the time. No one would think you were out of place and effectively ditched. 
You make your choice, beelining for the upgraded rendition of Pac Man and slipping in a coin to start it. 
The excitement was short lived as you remembered that the game isn’t as easy as you remembered. Whatever, you take your leave and try for a game you hadn’t played before. Something simple with muted colors. It’s fun, but a little difficult. You find yourself getting lost in it, the sounds drowning out the bustling of the arcade.
You huff as you lose another round and reach down, ready to drop a coin and start up again when you hear an annoyed groan coming from behind.
“Can I help you?” You ask, giving the guy a once over. He wore all black with ashen hair and ruby red eyes that shone with annoyance.
“Yeah, you could find another game to suck at.” He scoffs, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Irritating. 
You take the challenge. “Oh yeah? Well let's see you try it then, since it’s so easy.”
He shrugs, brushing by you and inserting his own coin into the machine, the beeps of the game starting up and filling tension between you. 
This guy… was good at the game — as much as you hated to admit it. He blew through the enemies with little to no trouble and easily passed your place in the game. Ending it all with one final blow to the boss and snagging the new high score right before your eyes. 
To say you were embarrassed was a little less than an understatement, but you wouldn’t let him know that. So, you double down, brows furrowed and standing proud. 
The mystery man turns back to you, carmine eyes gleaming in triumph over his easy win. “See? You suck.”
You bristle at his blunt insult and bite back. “Yeah, well I only tried this game today! You think you're so good, why don’t you try to beat me at a game I'm good at.”
He looks you over, eyes dragging from your head to the converse on your feet, before turning back around towards the game and dropping another coin into it. 
“No thanks.” 
This asshole… you don’t know why you're fighting this battle, you don't even know this man! But it would be a lie if you didn’t think it was entertaining —- in an annoying way, of course. 
But you take your loss and give up, moving on to the next game. It is something silly and bright, but also difficult. It's easy to get lost in and you find yourself aggressively tapping the buttons, inevitably losing the game and huffing off to find the next one. 
You choose a first person shooter this time. Originally a two player game, but you play on your own — taking down zombie after zombie as you try (and fail) to progress to the next stage. 
You groan as the game over screen mocks you for what feels like the thousandth time that night and fight to keep from banging your head against the screen in frustration. 
“You’re doing it wrong,” a low voice speaks from behind you and you can already feel your anger flaring. “It’s all in the aim.”
“Yeah, well, what do you know?” You ask bitterly, watching as the same asshole from before puts a coin in and starts the game up again. 
He makes it look so easy, getting headshot after headshot as he easily advances to the next rounds. There was a moment you swore he would lose as a mob of zombies crowded him, but he hit a flammable container in the background, causing an explosion and killing all of the zombies. 
The winning screen lit up his pale cheeks in a red hue, giving him a faux flush of color making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. 
You can’t bite back your sigh of defeat this time, the losing streak getting to you. “Did you come over here just to show off? I can do without that, thank you.”
He only shakes his head, putting in another coin and starting the game up again. You stare blankly as he hits the two player button and hands you a gun. 
“No, let me show you why you’re not winning.” It's spoken like you asked him for advice and you know damn well you didn’t, but you take the gun anyway because you had no reason not to.
Muttering a taut fine and gearing yourself up for more humiliation, you stand tall and hold the plastic gun up to the screen, ready to shoot incoming enemies.
You jolt when you feel the guy come up behind you, placing his hands over yours and moving them so that you have a better grip on the weapon. 
It was so quick and so natural your cheeks began heating for a reason completely different from your earlier embarrassment. 
He was so warm, his hands were warm and calloused and you could feel the heat of his body radiating onto your back as he invaded your personal space to show you how to hold the plastic gun. 
Your heart hammered against your chest but you forced yourself to keep your eyes forward and face neutral. 
It was much easier said than done, you realize as he leans in, his soft hair tickling your ear as he spoke, guiding you through the mini tutorial of how to shoot the zombies. 
Everything he said went in one ear and out the other as you could only focus on the low vibrato of his voice, explaining as his fingers ghosted over yours, casually helping you shoot. 
The smell of fresh linen and what you could assume was citrus shampoo flooding your nose, making you dizzy as you struggled to listen. You wanted nothing more than to lean back into this stranger, fully feel the warmth of his chest against your back and run your fingers through his soft locks. But you didn’t. 
You will yourself to focus on the sounds of the game and his technique, knowing that you will probably be playing the game soon and didn’t want to look silly if your skill remained the same.
Unfortunately, he pulled away sooner rather than later, taking all of his extra warmth and citrus scent with him. 
“Do you get it now?” He asks, rasp in his voice having genuine curiosity and you nod, ready to try your luck at the game now.
It seems like his tutoring wasn’t in vain and you both pull out a win, scoring high enough to place your names on the screen. 
You can’t hide your excitement from your first win of the night, turning to your new companion as he looked over the other high scores on the board.
“So, what’s your name?” You ask, riding the high of the win and letting the confidence of it guide you. “Because I don't think it would be DustKing like your high score says.”
He gives a small laugh, something tiny and barely there – a mere blow of air through his nose — and looks at you. Those carmine eyes send heat rushing to your cheeks again and spreading to the tips of your ears. 
“Tomura.” Is all he gives and you nod, giving him your name and turning back to the arcade game again. 
“Wanna give it another try?” You offer, and he gives you a small smile back, dropping a coin into the machine and starting up another round. 
“Sure.”
And suddenly, being ditched on a Friday night by your so-called friends isn’t so bad.
—---------------------
The next time you meet Tomura, it is on a saturday afternoon.
The arcade is already bustling with people and the noise almost makes you turn on your heels and walk away. But you don't, instead white hair and dark clothes catch your eye and your feet move before your mind can catch up with the actions. 
“Hey!” You greet, a little too chipper and a little too close. 
Tomura looks down at you, eyes dropping to your shirt and then back up again. You weren't sure if he had been checking you out or trying to size you up. It makes you falter a bit as he goes back to his game, effectively ignoring you.
The behavior is odd, but you try not to let it bother you. The last time you met the both of you played the silly zombie game until the arcade closed — there was no way he didn’t remember who you were.
You feel a little out of place and the tiniest bit hurt as you take a step back, ready to find any other distraction in the arcade to erase this from your brain. 
“Um, okay, bye then—” You start, but you’re cut off by Tomura’s groan. He lost the game and it's difficult to hold back the laughter.
“God, you’re such a distraction. You made me lose!” He barks, riling you up.
Your brows furrow in frustration, you’ve barely said two words to the guy. “How did I make you lose? I just got here!”
“Yeah, and you're being all distracting, with your little shirt and your jeans. What do you want?” 
What the hell was that supposed to mean? The statement is lost on you as your anger takes the forefront. “Don’t blame me because you’re off your game today.”
“I will blame you, because it’s your fault.”
“Whatever, Tomura. Since you’re done losing at this game, why don't you try one you;ll need real skill to play?” you challenge and hope he takes the bait, the irritated narrowing of his eyes shows that he will and you bury your giddiness inside.
“Fine, I'll try it.”
Tomura loses. Bad. And you can't stop the tears from crowding your eyes as you laugh at his misfortune. 
“No, why did you rush out so fast?” You hear Tomura’s low growl of annoyance and continue, “This is not that kind of game! Slow and steady wins the race, you know.” 
Wiping the tear from your eye, you try again, dropping a coin and gearing up for the next round while Tomura sits beside you, seething. The game starts up again and it's bright and inviting. You strategically tap at the buttons, ensuring that your duck character can make it across the street safely. 
It's only when you hear the splash of the fallen duck next to yours that you break out into laughter once more, accidently tapping the button and sending your duck into the open road, ending the game for you both. 
“This game is rigged!” Tomura protests, frustration palpable and scowl deep on his face. 
You only shrug, knowing it's not an easy game, “Well, I'm sure you’d say that about any game you aren't good at.” 
“That's a lie.” He states. Blunt and firm. This guy… He’s so rude, but so cute. You want to bite him.
“It's not,” You keep your voice light as you tease, not wanting to push him too far. “You don’t have patience so of course you would lose.” 
“I could beat you at other games.”
This piques your interest, brows flying up. “Oh, yeah? Like what?” 
He shrugs, irritation all but dissipated. “Mario Kart. 200cc. It takes patience and it’s not rigged.” 
You take the bait, fingers twitching in anticipation, “Sure, but look where we are. There is no Mario Kart here.” 
The look tomura gives you makes you wonder if you’d asked if the sky were blue. “I have Mario Kart at my house. Stop by and I'll kick your ass at it.”
You are stubborn, and decide fine. If he wants to be cocky, then you could bring him down a notch. “Alright, let's go and we'll see.” 
He nods and you both take off, leaving the noise and excitement of the arcade behind.
Tomura was not lying when he said Mario Kart required patience. 
You were currently in his room, on his bed as you try and fail to correct your character's position on the race track. You were stuck against a wall and slowly turning the opposite way, meanwhile, the other karts whip past your character — mocking while you firmly sat in dead last. 
The small laugh Tomura gives is enough to send you into a rage. Standing up, you grip the controller with force, twisting and turning with it as if it would give you more control over your character. It did not. 
“Oh, come on!” You shout.
“You have to use your brakes at this speed.” Tomura supplies, his character crossing the finish line and cheering at its win. 
Your frustration is blinding because once again, those large, warm hands were covering yours, Tomura’s low voice filled with amusement as he guided your character to the finish line. 
Embarrassment wasn’t enough for what you were feeling. Not only did you talk shit and lose, but you needed help from him again. 
He pulls away and you fleetingly think it’s too soon, watching as Tomura grabs his own controller and flips through the options. “We could try a slower cc. 200cc is brutal to newer players.”
“You knew that and you still let me play it?” He clearly set you up, you bitterly realize as you sit next to him on the bed, watching the screen.
“Yeah, for all I know you could have been a prodigy. You weren't though, so it’s nothing I have to worry about.” 
“Hey!” You scold, smacking his arm and grabbing the controller. “Fine. Let's do 50cc and see how good you are.”
Tomura shrugs, plucking the item from your hand and getting more comfortable. “Sure, but don’t think slower races will mean you’re better.” 
The next race goes about the same as the first one, but at least this time your character sticks to the road and you’ve even placed higher this time. Eighth place! Take that. 
“Impressive,” Tomura drags, voice stripped of malice and insults. It was a small feat, but still better than twelfth place. 
It's hard to keep your excitement down, a stark contrast to Tomura’s reserved demeanor. You’ve only met him recently but he's already perfected the way to get your feathers ruffled and rile you up. 
“Yeah, well I'm going to buy the game and practice on my own. Just wait, you’ll be in last place soon.” You had the gaming console, but never this game. It wouldn’t be too steep of an investment. 
Tomura hums, pondering a moment before responding, “You could always just come over and practice. No need to waste the money when I have it.”
His words make you pause, slowly realizing where you are and who you're with. Some guy you met at the arcade — in his home, in his room, playing video games. How did that happen so fast? Your parents would kill you.
“I guess.” You look around, suddenly wanting to find anything else to focus on that isn’t the man beside you. Now that you think about it, you’ve never really been alone with another guy before. Especially not in his room. Sure, you had all kinds of male friends, but never any this close. It made you… nervous. And warm. 
Very warm. Something that spread from the pits of your abdomen and crawled its way back up into your cheeks. 
You hoped Tomura wouldn't notice your blush and searched your brain for any way to get out of this situation. 
But then he was speaking again and god, was his voice always this low?
“Do you want to go another round?”
“Huh?” You stammer, looking over and it was a mistake because you were forced to notice how close you two were sitting, on his bed of all places. You shake the thoughts from your head, “y-yeah, we should play another round.”
You reach for the controller and Tomura stops you, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 
“Hey, what's your problem?” Blunt. Rude. Fucking cute. 
It's settled. You hate this man. 
His brows furrowed as he moved closer, examining your face as if he could peer into your mind with his eyes alone. It made you want to shrink away, but that would only make his observation worse.
“Are you... getting nervous?” Your eyes widen at the words and you pull away completely, shaking your head, 
“No! Of course not.” You cross your arms in a huff and absently wonder if you could take your leave now. 
“You are,” he decides, a slow grin creeping across his face, “Why?” 
You're sure the ground will open up and swallow you whole if you just wish hard enough for it. Maybe then Tomura would back up out of your personal space and shut up.
“I'm not nervous.” You bluff, praying he won’t see through you. 
“I know why.” 
You brace yourself for mortification. 
“It’s because you know you’re going to lose.” 
He has that smug smile on his face and it hits you. 
He has no idea. Tomura doesn’t get it — he thinks you’re upset about the game and not the fact that you can smell the citrus of his shampoo and see the flecks of black in his red eyes. 
God, maybe he’s an idiot. 
You want to kiss him. 
“Don’t be nervous,” he assures, giving you a little smile and grabbing the controller again, “I’ll walk you through it.”
There was something about Tomura’s choice of words that made you think maybe, just maybe, he had a little more of an idea about your mood than he let on. You press your thighs together, praying it was subtle, and mentally push away the arousal you began to feel at his low tone of voice. 
“Sure.”
The next round you both play goes the same as the others. Tomura winning and you barely breaking the top ten. Your frustration was becoming palpable as it no longer was fun to see your character cry at the end of the match. 
“We don't have to play anymore.” You look over at Tomura’s words and he’s stretching, eyes closing at the movement. You can't help but notice the sliver of his exposed abdomen as he reaches up. 
You get a glimpse of his lithe figure and feel your mind begin to wonder what the rest looks like, but cut your thoughts short as he adjusts and meets your eyes again.  
You should get out of here before you embarrass yourself.
“Where are you going?” Tomura questioned, the minute you stood to leave.
“Um, home? It’s getting late.”
“Not that late. C’mon, it’s a Saturday. You have somewhere to be or something?” He’s getting up and you can only assume it's to get another game. You are correct because he turns to show you the case and it’s of a white goose. “This game is more fun.”
You look at the time on your phone and shrug. He's right, it's not that late — there should be no harm in staying a little longer.
So you do.
And it’s worth it as you both watch two geese in the game with excellent teamwork terrorize a farmer.
“Okay, you distract him and I’ll take his hat.” You were on a mission and Tomura indulged you, making his goose honk while yours swooped in, effectively stealing the hat and allowing you both to progress to the next level.
“Hah! I knew that would work.” You feel elated as you watch the geese move on, waddling across the screen and into the next area, “And you’re not so bad yourself, for a goose.” 
Tomura huffs a laugh, shallow and light before turning to you, “I carried you that round, but okay.”
You haven't known each other long, but he already knows his way around getting you riled up. 
The comment makes you turn so that you are better positioned on his bed, one leg still hanging off the end of it while trying not to puff your cheeks. You would be fighting a losing battle if he saw how riled up you were.
“Hey, I’m the one who told you where the picnic blanket was!”
“Okay? And who brought everything to the blanket?” he leaned forward, invading your space and challenging.
You didn’t back down, both of you so close, almost nose to nose. “You. but only after I found everything.”
The distance between the two of you was slim, and the air was heated, his crimson eyes looked down at you with that smug smirk on his lips and you wanted to bite him.
Or kiss him.
Whichever came first. 
Tomura followed your line of sight and it only made his smug expression worse, if that were even possible — yet neither of you backed away. His lips parted like he was on the edge of saying something, but was cut off by the peppy chime of your phone’s ringtone. 
That seemed to dissipate some of the tension between you two as it caused you to back away and scramble to find your phone on his bed. 
Once you’ve gotten it and answered, there’s the familiar voice of your mother on the other end, worrying about where you are and questioning when you would be home, standard practice for her. After many reassuring yeses and “i’ll be there soon”’s you are finally free of the call, now knowing that you have to wrap this up and head out. 
“Who was that?” Tomura questioned and his voice seems loud in the quiet of the room. 
You turn back to him and his eyes are waiting, expecting. He’s not doing anything but looking at you and it still feels like he can see all of you, as if you’re naked and bare, exposed completely. 
“My mom.” You can’t help the small shrug of your shoulders, feeling a little embarrassed at how uncool it could look to have your parents keep tabs on you all the time.
“Aww,” Tomura coos, and it's said more like an afterthought, something to fill the air as he leaned forward — finally, finally closing the distance between you both and kissing your lips. 
It shocks you as you feel the soft cotton his duvet hit your back, Tomura’s lips still pressed to yours as he pushed you down. They were rough but so warm, just like the rest of him, and your hand seeks his hair, finally indulging in the urge you’ve had to touch it since you’ve met him. 
He groans when you give it a tug and you whimper when he bites your lip a little too hard. It drives you crazy and Tomura wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping over yours as his hands slide up your shirt. You let out a gasp  when he cups your breast, taking a sensitive nub between his forefinger and thumb. The feeling has you mewling into his mouth and arousal soaking your panties. 
It doesn’t take much to get you riled up, especially since the furthest you’ve ever gone with a guy is a kiss here and there. 
Tomura crowds your senses as he hovers over you, caging you below him as he sits between your spread legs. Your heart races as you keep your eyes squeezed shut, you don’t know how far you’re going to go, but you definitely did not think you would be losing your virginity today. 
He pulls away, lifting his shirt up and over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor of the room. You waste no time taking in the new sight of his exposed chest, desperate to reach your hands out to touch. 
But Tomura was back down again before you had a chance to, his mouth making its way down your jaw and neck leaving kisses and licks in its wake. It’s sensitive, especially when Tomura sucks right on a particular spot on your neck, making you cry out. 
“D-don’t leave a mark.” You stutter, words nearly lost to the pleasure. 
“Why not?” The warmth of his tongue licking the area he’d just sucked on was making you shiver. 
Your hands were gripping his shoulder, desperate for any kind of grounding. “Because my parents. They would k-kill me.”
Tomura hums, seeming to take your concern into consideration before pulling away. You’re worried you’ve blown it and ruined the mood, but he just tugs at your shirt. 
“Get this off.” 
You can feel the heat on your face, from the kissing, but now you feel it burn more as you gaze at the man above you. The words make you stall, process what's going on — what you should do. 
No one’s seen you without a shirt, especially not in this situation, but honestly? Who cares. You’re an adult, you can and will make your own choices. 
There’s no one else in this room but you and Tomura, so when you sit up to remove your shirt and bra, catching Tomura’s eyes scan your newly exposed body, you can’t help but smile at the chill of excitement that dances down your spine. 
It makes your heart flutter so you pull him back into a kiss and back down onto the bed, fisting your hands in his ashen locks again and savoring the groans he made. 
Tomura makes his way down again, taking your right breast into his mouth and tweaking the nipple of your other with his free hand. The sensations are overwhelming and you moan, arching your back and trying with all you had to pull Tomura closer. 
He obliged by lowering his hips and grinding down against you, the press of his erection against your clothed cunt drives you wild. Tomura comes back up, claiming your mouth again and he is demanding as he deepens the kiss, giving you everything you wanted and more. 
You wanted to take it further, needed to take it further, but you weren’t sure how to progress from making out. Telling Tomura you were a virgin would probably make things awkward and you were going to lose it if everything ended here.
Tomura pulls away to look at you, flushed and red while you ponder what to do with your hand placement. You decide to wrap them around Tomura’s neck, pulling him close enough that he rests his forehead on yours. 
Your breaths intertwine as you both stare at each other in a daze. 
“What?” He asks first, breathless and curious. 
You cut your eyes to the side, hoping your scoff came off as unconcerned instead of wildly nervous, “Nothing! Nothing..”
Your tone is not lost on Tomura as he narrows his eyes, gears turning in his head and piercing gaze seemingly looking through you and into your deepest thoughts. “Why are you being shy like a virgin?”
The way you purse your lips gives you away and you do everything to avoid his gaze, which is hard when you’re both so close to each other. 
“Oh my god, you are.” There’s a whimsy excitement in his voice and suddenly, embarrassment is creeping its way back into your mind, “why didn’t you say so?” 
You look up as Tomura pulls back, his smile open wide on his face, ill hidden elation buzzing in his words. 
There’s your innate need to defend yourself and your honor rising up again and you can’t stop yourself. So what if you’re a blushing virgin. “Yeah, so? Aren’t you?” 
His shoulders give a small shrug, “Maybe.” 
Then he’s down again, lips next to your ear as his hands trailed down your waist, leaning goosebumps in their wake. 
“Have you ever made yourself cum before?” He asks and you can feel his smile against your ear.
Embarrassment has officially taken the forefront of your mind as you weakly shake your head no, “I’ve tried, but when I get close the feeling goes away.” Might as well be honest since it can’t get more vulnerable than this.
Tomura hums, one hand reaching to take your hand in his, “I could show you how, if you want.”
You feel his hand drag yours lower, down your body and to the hem of your pants and stop, waiting for a response. It feels like your nerves are in overdrive and you writhe below him in anticipation, nodding your head, “P-please.”
Tomura pulls away, taking his warmth with him as he reaches down to unbutton your pants, removing them and leaving your panties. 
“You’re soaked.” He muses, causing you to whine in anticipation. “Show me how you do it.”
And you do, slipping your hand under your panties and biting back a moan as your middle finger rubbed circles on your clit. You were dripping wet so your fingers glide easily and the feeling makes your eyes close. 
It's a song and dance you are familiar with in the heated nights of your bedroom. Trying and failing to make yourself cum because you’ve read about it, it’s supposed to feel good, but you just can't get there. 
Tomura watches on, absently palming his erection and watching you touch yourself. As much as he wanted to reach down and help you out, there was something about seeing you whine and writhe in his bed that made his brain wild. 
You were getting close and you knew because there was that familiar sensation of heat pooling in your lower belly, it was a pressure that got more and more intense as you chased after it, but every time, your hands would get tired and you would lose it. And with the momentum gone, you lose the orgasm. 
Your furrowed brows went from aroused to frustrated within the span of a second as, once again you’ve unintentionally denied yourself release. 
“Fuck,” Tomura breaths, hand now fully in his sweat pants as his breathing picks up, “you were close.”
“I know!” You whine, unsure what to do now, but Tomura has a few things in mind. He pulls his hand from his pants, not wanting to ruin his own orgasm and hooks his fingers on both sides of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them to the side. 
You were fully exposed and the only thing keeping you from pressing your thighs together and holding your dignity close was Tomura between them. 
You wish he wouldn’t look so much, but he does, drinking up the sight of your exposed cunt and licking his lips. You’re about to call him out of it before he dips back down, capturing your lips in his and it distracts you. 
It distracts you so well that the press of his thumb over your slick nub makes you cry out, the pleasure sudden and better than you imagined. Tomura devours your moans, rubbing slow circles onto your clit and easily picking up where you left off. Your hands find purchase on his back and your toes curl at the sensation. 
He had just started, but it was just right and you couldn’t stop yourself from arching your back, desperate for more and overwhelmed by the stimulation. 
“T-tomu..” You moan as you feel the horizon of warmth again and bury your face into his neck.
“Yeah,” his lips are by your ear again and you close your eyes, fully focusing on the feeling of his thumb working your clit and his low voice in your ear, “Just let go for me.”
And it all hits you, pussy pulsing in pleasure as you come undone, your cries muffled by your face in his shoulder. It feels like the end of a long marathon as the bliss spreads through your body like a warm blanket. 
You could only lie there as Tomura pulled away, kissing your sternum and all the way down until he was at eye level with your cunt. The action confuses you because he had just made you cum so why was he..? 
“What are you doing?” You ask, confusion muting the buzz in your head. 
His eyes meet yours, mischievous glint in them sending the butterflies in your stomach wild. “We’re not done yet.” 
And before you could question the man further he dips down, warm and wet tongue meeting your slit and diving into your slick entrance. The action makes you jolt, keening at the sensation and thighs reflexively closing against Tomura’s head. This action only spurred him on further as he lapped and dipped his deceptively long tongue in and out of your wet entrance, sticky slick walls clamping down on him as he sloppily ate you out. 
He was relentless as he drove your pleasure up the wall — blowing your previous orgasm out of the water with this new sensation. 
“Fuck, tomu — fuck its..!” You can’t form a coherent sentence because the pleasure was only building and building, giving your brain no time to catch up with your words. Your hands immediately found purchase in his hair, the soft ashen locks grounding you as he continued his actions, unbothered by your tight grip. 
Tomura decided to move up, licking his way from your hole to your clit, the overstimulated bud was next on tomura’s list as he lapped and kissed your bundle of nerves. 
The actions make you cry out, mind muddled as your body tries to figure out if you want to be closer or further away from the sensations. You don't have much time to reach a conclusion either as Tomura sucks your clit and your second orgasm of the night quickly builds up and spills over, making your back arch from the bed and your legs shake in pleasure. 
It feels like your mind is completely blank as tomura gives your cunt a final lap and your clit one last kiss before returning to meet your eyes again. 
You were face to face now and watching him grin down at you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had made a deal with the devil himself as your mind swam in the pleasure radiating throughout your body. It all felt surreal, and your eyes naturally closed, enjoying the feeling of your second climax. 
“Aw, don’t tap out on me now, I haven’t even given you the final boss yet,” you hear Tomura coo, finally moving to remove his sweatpants and boxers and oh— 
You watch his cock bob between his legs and panic internally as you wonder how the hell that would fit inside of you. 
It’s like Tomura could read your mind, because his laugh brings you back to the present, “don't worry about it, promise it’ll fit.” 
You don't know if you should trust him on that, but you do — mentally preparing yourself as Tomura leans over you and into the drawer of his bedside nightstand. He pulls out a square foiled packet and it’s in that moment you realize – no, he was not a virgin and only humoring you. 
You don't have much time to dwell on it though because in no time he has the condom on and is lining himself up with your entrance. 
The nerves are making themselves known as the reality of your situation starts to set in. The thoughts don’t flood your mind for long because Tomura takes your chin in his hand, demanding your undivided attention as he slowly pressed into your cunt. 
The pressure of the stretch makes you whimper and your eyes reflexively close, but he was only getting started. It was the somewhat soothing feeling of Tomura’s thumb stroking your cheek that kept you grounded and able to withstand more of the stretch. 
Little by little, Tomura pushed on, guiding you with his words and reassuring you that it wouldn’t hurt for long. He was right up against your ear, the familiar smell of his shampoo bringing you comfort as your bodies intertwined. 
“That it,” he guided, voice low and hips still as he bottomed out. You felt so full. It was a sensation you’ve never imagined and could only whine as tomura started to pull back. “I’m gonna move now.” 
Even though the pain was there in the initial thrusts, there was also the feeling of dull pleasure, slowly growing and growing until the previous pain had all but gone away and now you were floating in ecstasy as Tomura’s thrusts began to speed up.
You gripped at his forearms as he gained momentum, hips rocking into yours and making you moan.
“You like that?” he husked, lips brushing your throat as his hips snapped forward and hit a particularly sensitive spot inside. 
“F-fuck, again, do that again,” you cry and Tomura focuses his attention right where you want him to. The feeling is euphoric as you feel a different kind of coil tightening in your lower abdomen. A feeling that makes your toes curl and your thighs tense and it's hit again and again. 
Tomura lets out a low groan, his own pace becoming unsteady as time went on. “You’re so tight..” he murmured, reveling in the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on him, “‘s like you’re sucking me in.” 
You’re nearing the end again, you can feel it, but you don't want to be. This all felt so good. “Tomu, I-I’m—”
Tomura cuts you off, pulling away to look you in the eyes, his ruby red gaze was hypnotizing. “Just let go, I’ve got you.” 
And you do, that’s all it takes for you to tip over — mind rushing in bliss as your heart fluttered at his words. 
You felt this orgasm deep in your bones, the overwhelming feeling of clarity and contentment settling within you as you were now along for the ride, enjoying Tomura’s increasing erratic pace while he chased his own orgasm. 
“Oh, fuck—” he pants, following behind you with his own climax. His eyes were squeezed shut as he rode it out, slowing to a stop and dropping his head onto your shoulder. 
The heavy breaths between you were the only sounds in the room as you stare at his ceiling — noticing the faded out green stars above. So faint you were sure they had been placed there years and years ago. It brings a warmth to your chest, something new among your many new feelings you’ve felt today. 
“Next weekend,” Tomura starts, still sounding a bit winded as he pulls out — and you wince at the soreness, the pain not really something you were prepared for — and lays next to you, “Next weekend we’ll rematch in Mario kart. I’ll help you get better.”
You smile, the buzzing excitement making you flush, “Okay, let’s do it.”
The next morning is one that leaves you with a forming pit in your belly. It is a Sunday morning, and Sundays are the day’s your family loves to enjoy a homemade breakfast and sit together at the table like a loving family. 
And they were loving! Loving and observant.
You felt as if your parents knew. Like they knew where you had been yesterday — somehow seeing through your foolproof lie of hanging out with an old school friend, but things were quiet. 
Everything on this Sunday morning had been proceeding as normal. Your parents were sitting across from you, none the wiser and laughing about a show they watched last night while you were out. 
It did not feel real. It felt like there was something you were missing, as if they were omnipotent and knew your every move. Knew that you were no longer their shining star child, that you had been up to things that were everything but innocent. 
You feel the same, physically. Maybe a little sore from how rough Tomura had gotten, but other than that, normal.
“Sweetheart,” your father’s voice calls you, cutting through your paranoia, “could you pass me the syrup, please.”
And you do, maybe with too much haste, but he does not comment on it. Instead he just pours the sugary liquid onto his pancakes and continues. “So your mother and I were thinking,”
Oh, god. They knew.
“We know you’re taking a semester off, but if you aren't happy with that college, we could look into other’s for you.”
Your shoulders relax. It’s just college talk, again. That was talk you could handle. 
“Um, yeah. That’s okay with me. I could always use more options.”
Your father smiles, “That’s our girl. Always so flexible with her options. We know it takes a lot of strength to take a break, but you did. We’re so proud of you.” 
The smile that graces your face is pitiful and filled with guilt that you prayed was not obvious. They really saw the best in you, no matter how suffocating they were. so it’s only right you follow the path that they lay out for you. 
“Our girl could never do any wrong,” your mother chimes in, chipper and full of admiration, “you’re just so smart.”
You only nod, now trying to tune them out as they go back and forth, discussing possible college they believed would be best for you. 
It really makes you wonder just how far that love and pride stretched when their angel of a daughter strays against what they expect of you.
—-------------------------
And not even six months later that same love and adoration is tested, put on the line and shown bare as your enraged parents look down at you. 
The same parents who doted on you about how much you made them smile. You who had made them so proud and apparently brought them so much joy. 
It’s suffocating as you sit right back on the very same couch where it all started, listening to a lecture from your mother about the woes and pains of having such a disobedient unruly child. 
Even though you’re an adult. 
Even though you can make your own decisions about your life. 
It’s maddening having to listen to your once so meek and complacent mother go on and on about how she would have never snuck around with some boy she’s only known for a few months. How she would never lie to her parents about her whereabouts and how it’s just unheard of that you would turn your location off. 
You shake your head, they wouldn’t understand. Your father wouldn’t even look at you. “Mom, please..” you start, wanting to offer anything to break up the nonstop lecture. 
“I just don’t understand!” Her voice is so high it’s nearly a yell, and your mother makes it a point to never yell. “He’s just a man! Why would you put yourself and your future at risk for some guy?”
“He’s not just some guy.” You mumble and curse yourself for trying, they would never see it your way. 
There is a buzz from the phone in your pocket and you habitually grab for it, pulling it from its place and you are not given a chance to check the notification before your mother snatches the device from your hand. 
“And no phone! This damn phone is the root of all your problems in the first place.”
Disbelief mars your features as the constant drilling catches up with you. “You can’t do that!”
She only folds her arms across her chest, head tilted in challenge, “I can’t? Watch me. You’re lucky we haven’t put you on the street yet with how irresponsible you’ve been.” 
It’s hard to understand what’s so irresponsible about taking birth control and practicing being safe. But you knew it was deeper than that. It was deeper than the boy and it was more than sex. 
They hated the lack of control they had over you and how it waned with every passing day.
“So, what, was this guy supposed to be the love of your life? Someone you would just run away with and expect to support you?”
Your mother’s voice grates on your ears and you just wish for this conversation to be over, you want this entire thing to be over and done with. “I don’t know. Maybe.” The defeat is evident in your voice and you shrug. “Can I go now?” 
They are beating a dead horse at this point and you’re over it. 
To your surprise, no one stops you as you rise, allowing you to take your leave before the tears clouding your vision could fall. 
The defeat you feel is deep and you can’t even muster the energy to slam your door shut, opting for a quieter close. The fragile click of your door was so soft and it felt as if you were made of glass. To slam the door would only make you shatter into a million pieces onto your bedroom floor. 
How foolish of you to think there could ever be a world where you had autonomy in a house filled with hawks. 
Your bed greets you with its cozy warmth and you allow yourself to fall apart there, letting out all of your despair and frustration into your pillow and leaving the pieces of your soul to be picked up in the morning. 
It’s been a week. 
A long, boring, drawn-out week. 
You are without your phone, without wifi and without your parents car — so you couldn’t go anywhere if you tried. 
It’s been a long week of nothing, not even from Tomura. You assume he can put two and two together and figure out something has gone wrong. The thought brings you a little peace, but not for long. 
You barely leave your room and barely say two words to your parents. The isolation is… lonely. 
Even if you went out to the living room to watch television, you run the risk of running into one of your parents — and you can really do without another lecture. The only thing on your mind this past week has been Tomura. What was he doing? Did he pick up on your silence? Last time he showed up at your house, but that’s not happening this time around. 
You sit up from your bed, realizing that sitting around rotting away would drive you mad, and look to your window. The sun was setting and dusting the rest of the world in pretty orange and pink hues. It would be nightfall soon, and you don't think you could spend another night in this room, alone. 
So, against all better judgment, you open your window, look back to listen for any suspicious footsteps — the lack thereof giving you the greenlight — and climb out of your window, stumbling on to the ground as you try to regain your footing from the drop.
You weren't sure where your feet were taking you, but you didn't care, the feeling of fresh air against your cheeks was all you really needed for a clear head.
Your feet lead you to the mall, the start of all your problems and the beginning of your independence. 
It felt strange, seeing all kinds of happy faces throughout the mall. Blissfully unaware of their freedoms and enjoying their night. The jarring feeling pushes your feet to the familiar route, flashing colors and blaring music of the arcade greeting you. 
It’s comforting, in a way. But you didn’t bring any money. You didn't bring anything but what you were wearing so you could only look around, watching friends and couples alike laugh together. 
There's an area near the back of the arcade with tall barstools and empty tables. You decide to take a seat there and sulk on your own. At least you were no longer trapped in your room, forced to watch your four walls while the days passed you by.
You were in a daze, tracing the brown lines on the wooden table with your eyes, until someone interrupted you by sitting right next to you. You turn to face the culprit, less than friendly words on your tongue and ready to let whoever have a piece of your mind. 
But you stop in your tracks as ruby red eyes look down at you. 
Tomura. 
He was here, next to you and your heart fluttered at the realization. 
“What’s your problem?” He joked, rasp in his voice comforting to your ears. 
You don’t stop yourself from pulling him into a hug, his black hoodie soft and familiar. “How did you know I was here?” You mumble into the fabric and miraculously Tomura understands you.
“I didn’t.” The admission causes you to pull back, looking up at him through your long lashes. “None of my calls or texts went through, and I tried to stop by but your dad was suspiciously outside.” He brings a hand to your head, brushing your hair back and giving you a small smile. “I still like coming here, so I did. Something to pass the time. Ironically, I saw you walk by. 
You hum, fighting the pout that wanted to make its way onto your face. “They took my phone. They took everything, even the birth control pills. I can’t keep living like this, Tomura.”
���I know.” He responds, soothing your nerves even with his presence. “I can get you another phone.”
The suggestion only makes you shake your head, it doesn’t tackle the real underlying issue. 
“It doesn’t matter. It’s only a matter of time before they find that too. We’ve seen that they aren’t above going through my things. It’s hell. I can’t do it anymore.”
This seems to make Tomura ponder, taking your words in and running them through his mind for a solution. His expression is fixed when he looks back at you. 
“Then don’t.”
“What?” 
“Don’t go back home.” He elaborates, “Come stay with me. My place is big enough, it shouldn’t matter.”
You are shaking your head before you realize, pulling away from him with a stern look. “No, no I can't do that. I can’t impose on you like that.”
Tomura gives you a halfhearted glare. “It’s not imposing if I'm offering. They’re assholes, and I'm usually home alone anyway. Well, besides Kurogiri.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, “C’mon, just go home tonight, pack a bag and then meet me here tomorrow. Can you do that?” 
There was no other option you would want more so you nod, giving a short okay as Tomura presses his lips to yours. 
It's set — by this time tomorrow you will be free.
1K notes · View notes
inkykeiji · 1 year ago
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character: shigaraki tomura x fem!reader warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, dry humping, rough messy kisses, tomura is a meanie words: 1.3k
just been daydreaming about kissing tomura’s scars and leave the prettiest, sparkliest smears of pink lip gloss along his neck and collarbone ♡ and how much he supposedly ‘hates’ it ♡
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“i told you to stop doing this,” his voice vibrates against your lips, head tilting further back, allowing you more room to work. “you’re making a fucking mess.” 
“m’sorry,” you murmur into the curve of his shoulder, not seeming apologetic in the slightest, planting another kiss, hard and puckered and full of purpose, to the protruding bones. “can’t help it.”  
“b-bitch,” he keens out, curse fading to a gasp on his tongue.
giggling, you string another garland of pecks along the curve of his neck to the hinge of his jaw, then across the defined edge, leaving smears of pretty pink lip gloss.
it’s real cute, you think, the way he acts as if he doesn’t love it, grumbles about how sticky it is, how it clumps his hair together and dries all hard and shimmery, but secretly he loves finding remnants of glitter—of you—all over him; his fingertips, his collarbone, his lips, his hair, his eyelashes; tiny sparkling reminders that you were there, that you’ve staked your claim, leaving a galaxy of constellations across his body that bear your name. 
he acts as if it’s such a nuisance, as if he doesn’t adore the way your lips paint his fresh gouges, new gashes, in the prettiest shimmers of you; your gloss, your drool, your scent—notes that linger far after you’re gone, notes that seep into his skin, that produce phantom tingles of longing when he’s laying alone in the middle of the night, warm and wiggling beneath his flesh.
he acts as if he doesn’t find it breathtakingly beautiful, the way his self-inflicted scars glimmer, the worst part of himself made pretty by you.
he acts as if if it doesn’t make his cock twitch in his jeans—even though you know it does, even though he knows you know it does, indicated by your girlish giggles as you bounce a little in his lap and lick another fat strip of saliva up the column of his neck, tongue tracing over that prominent adam’s apple that trembles with a growl or throbs with a thick swallow, to punctuate the lick with a sticky, gloss saturated kiss, right beneath his chin. 
he acts like this for as long as he can stand it, for as long as his soul will allow it, until he physically can’t take it anymore, the clawing at his chest and in his veins too much to bear, large hands curling around your hips and squeezing, hard, holding you in place as he ruts up into your clothed core, movements sloppy and uneven.
there’s no finesse to it, no set rhythm or pace, hips bucking wildly as he compels you to stay put, damn it, the demand spit out in a ragged whine. 
his mouth clashes against your own in a crude imitation of a kiss, sucking your lips into his mouth with enough force to yank a yelp from your chest. 
sharp teeth scrape your upper lip and the underside of your nose, leaving raised, raw little abrasions in their wake as they gnaw on your mouth, bottom row grating over your chin and dragging up, harvesting fat globs of the sticky substance behind their sawtoothed edges.
muffled moans soak into your flesh, pitchy and splintered to bits by heavy pants as he restlessly scours your mouth, scrubs it near clean, teeth depositing clots of gloss onto his tongue. 
it hurts, the constant rubbing of his teeth leaving your skin chafed and bloodied, but he doesn’t fucking care, greedily swallowing down your resounding squeals and cries, starved for any bit of you he can devour. 
it hurts, but you don’t discourage it, instead twining your arms around his neck, fingers pushing into the fluffy tufts curling up at the base of his skull.
“uh, fuck,” he whines, voice grit and gravel, mouth mashed against your own.  
his tongue unfurls to lap at your lips, now glazed with a watery crimson, desperate to slurp every last ounce of gloss from your swollen mouth. it flattens against your face, slick muscle laving in hard, repetitive motions back and forth, back and forth, gathering the remnants of make-up and coating his tongue and his teeth in the tacky glitter, tainted with the taste of copper. 
those little whimpers and mewls have morphed into grunts and groans, shoved from his throat into yours as his tongue finally enters your mouth, now satisfied with having sucked the first layer of skin from your lips. 
it’s all so fucking messy, drool weeping from the corners of your conjoined mouths and leaving sticky streaks across your jaws and chins, edges of your teeth clacking together as your tongues tangle and brush and massage one another, slick and slippery as they push and curl.
his pleasure is hot and heavy on your tongue, little jolts surging through your skin with each sound huffed out in time with the irregular rocking of his hips. 
his cock is so hard, straining painfully against his jeans, throbbing as if it’s desperate to burrow through the thick denim to your cunt, but tomura won’t let it get that far—tomura can’t. 
because tomura needs to cum now, tomura doesn’t have the time to wait, tomura doesn’t have a goddamn second to waste, fucking into you through layers of fabric, thankful you’re in a skirt, thankful your panties are so fucking slutty, made of lace so thin, so delicate it’s barely a barrier at all.
if he concentrates hard enough, he swears he can feel your hole, empty and yearning, clenching with every stroke of his cock over your clit. 
it’s almost enough to make him cum right there. 
bony fingers flex on your waist, unsure if they want to stop your movements or speed them up, blunt nails gouging dark, deep crescents into your skin. 
you make the decision for him, pace quickening as you grind down on his cock—come on, tomu, come on, tomu—and he mewls again, something high and pitchy and dense in your mouth, hips jerking up in response.
his forehead knocks against your own, hard enough to make you wince, pain searing through your temples. your noses nudge together, clumsy and inept with the haphazard rolling of his hips, steadily accelerating with each rut against you, desperate to match the pace you’ve set, to exceed the pace you’ve set. the fingers tangled at the back of his skull push further into his hair, fingertips pressing into his scalp in lopsided little circles, evoking another low moan as he shoves his head harder against yours, desperate to give you more room to work. 
he’s getting close now, hands tightening as they force you to move even faster, thighs tensing as the pressure in his tummy builds higher and higher, heavier and heavier with each of your motions, hips stuttering as they fall out of tempo again, overwhelmed by the pleasure.
“fuck, f-fuck,” the curse fractures in his throat, eyes shut so tight they crinkle at the corners, breath exhaled in harsh tatters out his nose. “i—i’m gonna—”
“do it,” you nearly beg in a stringy whine. “ruin your jeans for me.”
“oh, christ,” he chokes on a sob, another three gyrations of your hips and then he’s obeying, cock pulsing almost violently and filling his pants with hot, thick cum—so much, too much, way too much that it starts oozing through the denim in viscous, ropy dollops to smear across your inner thighs, the coating pretty and pearly glazing over your skin.
leaning back, you look down, spreading your thighs a little further to examine the damage, tensing and tilting the muscles to fawn at the way his cum shimmers in the dim light.
“now who’s the one making a mess?” you tease with a giggle, gazing at him through your lashes, and he rolls his eyes. 
“this is nothing,” he’s growling as he hoists you up, one big hand clamped around your elbow, already beginning to drag you along behind him. “i’m gonna show you what a real mess looks like.” 
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dilfhos · 1 year ago
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STRAY
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#!WHO : SHIGARAKI TOMURA
#!CC: puppygirl!reader, thoughts of depravity, readers kinda naive, no thots just dick, there’s no expressive consent but reader’s kinda dumb and needy, use of “doggy” and “pup”. reader does actually bark (not them arf, yips! like a husky, heady bark.) MDNI.
+bringing back this banger from my old blog. you can also read it on my ao3. im nervous lol idk how its gonna hold up 2 years later, diff audience. i can’t remember the ask specifically but it was something like Shigaraki finding a stray and he ends up using her. omg and i want to tag @bakatenshii idk if you remember my old alias but i do remembered you loved this fic!
+NETWORK(S): @angelshub @bitchcraftinc (i keep forgetting to do this mL, excuse the random @/lovelies)
“Good girl,” Shigaraki whispers and he really means it, at least for now. It makes him think having a pet like you may not be all that bad…
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Shigaraki still wonders how he ever let this be, an animal-woman hybrid living in his already cramped apartment. Doesn’t know why he hadn’t bothered to kick you out either. But it could be anybody’s guess as to why you still remain.
It all started when he got into an argument with his landlord, one that required him the self control to back off and avoid killing the bastard. It was rainy but Shigaraki paid no mind to the stinging raindrops that pelted his skin and soaked his clothes. It was dark out, but not too dark as to not notice you cowering against the side of his building upon his return. Your eyes were closed as you trembled in the cold rain.
Shigaraki didn’t know why he found himself moving closer to get a better look at you but when your eyes shot open, he found himself almost curious. He’d never seen anything like you before. Especially when your ears, you very doglike ears twitched forward, erect and alert. But you didn’t seem all that afraid. You were dressed in soaked shirt that was too big for you as it sagged off your body.
He crouched down and you inched toward him reluctantly and as you moved from your previous position, his eyes sought out the tail that had been tucked in between your legs.
“Hey, there you are,” Someone cooed from behind him. Shigaraki turned to eye the man. There was nothing all that remarkable about him; he wore all black, his hood over his head save for a few dark locks that stuck to his brows. Shigaraki wasn’t the least bit intimidated. But that couldn’t be said for you as you frantically dove into his arms, letting out a frightened whimper. Your ears flattened against your head as your hands curled into Shigaraki’s coat.
He wanted to back you off and leave from the situation as it had nothing to do with him and was fixing to do so when he looked down. Your pupils were blown and eyes glossy, pleading.
He sighed before standing, pulling you up with him to stand on trembling feet.
“She yours?” Shigaraki mumbled. You moved behind him, your hands tightening on his clothes.
“Heh, yeah, ran right out through the door. Isn’t that right baby?” You growled all while cowering behind Shigaraki’s form.
“No collar,” Shigaraki noted.
“Been meaning to get her one. C’mon baby, why don’t you leave the nice man alone and come back home with me?” He cooed.
The utter confidence and trust you had in Shigaraki at this moment was appalling. He barely covered the man in terms of height and upon first glance, he looked rather average. Definitely not the type to win in a fist fight. So why were you so dependent on him to save you?
Shigaraki didn’t have time to really think too much about it because the man advanced, silver glinting under the streetlamp. You yelped and cowered back against the wall again, covering your eyes.
You heard a grunt followed by a pained cry as that then died into the sound of pelting rain. When you lowered your shaky hands, Shigaraki was standing over a pile of what looked to be ash, the knife a few feet away.
Ever since that night, he couldn’t seem to shake you.
You’re loyal and to him, it’s annoying. Showing up at his doorsteps turns into you sleeping on his ratty couch. His chasing you away turns into grumbles of tolerance. The typical sneer he wears when you come sniffing around dissolved in hidden blushes and twitched lips as your distrustful cowering eventually turn into you becoming disturbingly comfortable around him.
After another day of pressing his key into the lock does he already see you on the other side of the door, tail whipping back and forth in excitement as you await his return. Except he isn’t really in the mood. Today was particularly bad and he wanted nothing more than to possibly let off steam, maybe watch something, blow his load and sleep.
“Stupid mutt, stop doing that!” He growls when his back immediately slams against the door, eyes narrowed in the way you smile up at him.
“Welcome home sir.” You beamed.
Another thing you picked up was calling him ‘sir’. Despite the many times he tells you not to. He wasn’t your last owner, and honestly, he’d like it if you didn’t call him anything. But every one of his complaints go through one ear and out the other with you having half the intelligence of an actual dog.
He recoils when he feels your tongue graze his neck. Groans when it doesn’t just end there. You’re licking his chin, his neck, and when your tongue laps over his lips, he’s trying to buck you off. But you’re so persistent as you press further against him, your front grinding up against his groin unknowingly.
Shigaraki bites back a moan at your ignorance, his cock already hardening from your aimless shifting.
You couldn’t feel the bulge pushing against your thigh? The soft grunts he’d release when you’d lap at the rough skin of his neck? You can’t be that stupid or then maybe you are.
But would it be that bad if you are? Because then he wouldn’t feel guilty when he dreams of stuffing you full with his cock. You practically ask for it every chance you get with him. The sleeping in his bed, your excessive show of affection, the sickening devotion in your eyes.
And then, isn’t it what he deserved? He did save you that night. Do you even remember how easy it could have been for him to just walk away? To give you up to that creep? Sure it only happened a few weeks ago but he thinks of that night as if it was only the last. How when he brought you home and went to retrieve a towel to dry you up, you were on your hands and knees practically presenting yourself to him as you slumped in exhaustion. As if giving him the go ahead to do what he wanted to and by gods, it took everything with him not to.
He wasn’t a hero, not by a long shot. And maybe you didn’t have the mental capacity to accept that he was actually a villain because in your eyes, he was your savior.
But as said, today was a particularly bad day and right now he felt anything but.
So just this once he’ll give in. Whether you wanted it or not didn’t matter to him at this point, already past contemplation. After all you’re his pet now, his property and if he can’t do this then what good are you really?
You release your little whimpers and when you look up, your eyes are wide, so full of confusion when he suddenly has you on your hands and knees pressing into you from behind on the floor. Your owner wears a new look, his eyes so feral, teeth gritted. And you know that look; it was the look of your last owner among all the other men that tried to take you on the streets. Hunger. Greed. Desperation.
And you should be wary, should cower away from the carnality in his eyes because you know better than anyone that when it’s present one thing is desired. Yet, you hold your ground. You don’t struggle, in fact he could just make out the way your hips shimmy back a little bit and the whine that surfaces from your throat.
You just can’t help it, the air around you has changed. A thick cloud of hot lust is weighing down around you and so much so, you can’t help but to submit. Besides you trust him one for reasons you can’t figure out.
Shigaraki refuses to meet your eyes, instead he quickly fumbles with his belt and takes out his hard cock. A blush spreads across his face when he eyes the steady slick trailing down your thighs and upon closer inspection he can see how swollen you were and that’s what does him in.
It’s what has him surging forward, bottoming out completely inside of you. Your ears flatten against your head as you let out the neediest sounding moan, one that has a shiver licking down his spine.
“Shit. Shit,” He should feel ashamed, taking advantage of you like this. But he clings on the fact that he’s a villain, that’s his justification. A villian with his pet, that’s all this is.
It’s fueling his newfound vigor as he speeds up, the heat of your tight cunny sucking him in with every cant of his hips.
His fingers dig into the plush of your hips as his own thrust forward, his cock forcing past your tight ring of muscle. You look back again, your eyes glossy with tears, long tongue hanging out as you whine and pant. He was so thick, so heavy within your tight, hot walls. Your nails scrape helplessly against the dingy carpet as he rocks into you with so much drive.
In the midst of your panting and whining surfaces his voice, so grating and filthy as he tumbles every degrading name in the book. It should worry him and yet it has his stomach knotting up, his thighs and glutes tightening as he holds on to your hips for dear life. And in the midst of that is the loud, wet, shlicks of each sink into you.
“My needy little bitch. Taking my cock like a good doggy,” He grits, eyeing the recoil of your ass against his hips.
His hand seeks out the base of your tail as he uses it as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. And it hurts, it has the tears spilling over and yet, your cunt only tightens around him some more.
“F-Feels good sir!” You cry out at about the same time as he mumbles,
“Good doggy, such a good pup,” And at his praise, your ears bend forward, and your tail begins to switch slowly in his gasp. You feel a knot in your tummy, desperately winding down to what you’re chasing. It has you rocking back against him needy to have, so so needy. And the way your resolve has melted away, it makes all his thoughts of guilt completely vanish, leaving him with an unbearable need to fill you up.
He’s quickly pulling out and flipping you onto your back, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he spreads you wide.
You were so wet, inhumanly so as it’s gushing down onto the carpet and the sight alone has him nearly cumming right then and there but he holds it. At least until he’s thrusting into you again, your head thrown back as you let out a broken whine. Your tits bounce with all the force he’s using as he’s putting everything into these last moments. His one track kind only focuses in the tuft of fur above your cunny, at the way your puffy lips pull part each time he's pushing forward and the slick coating his cock.
You’re yelping with each kiss he delivers to your cervix, hands desperate to hold onto to your new owner. You reach out and he grasps your wrists, using you to thrust impossibly deeper into you. Static fills his mind as his eyes roll back, his hips slamming against yours, balls smacking your ass each time.
“Fuck, fuck cumming!”
“Sir! Sir please-” You cut your own self off with a heady bark, one that startles him. It’s also what has him groaning as he twitches, his seed spilling so suddenly into you. Your pussy milks him as you gush around his dick and it has him falling over, elbows pressed into the carpet on either side of your head. Your legs wrap around his waist as your hips shimmy up against him, whining as you push past your own limits, twitching every so slightly at the overstimulation and sealing this moment of what would be the best one in your simple little head.
“Good girl,” Shigaraki whispers and he really means it, at least for now. It makes him think having a pet like you may not be all that bad.
He also thinks he should probably name you.
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