#Tomura x you

[ghostcore3]

shigaraki playing dress to impress and arguing with 11 year olds

[satorusvoid]

shigaraki sees you in pigtails one time and becomes utterly obsessed. it’s the only thing he thinks about, and so it’s only natural that he requests you do that hairstyle when you’re about to have sex a few days after.

he insists that you get on top. “Ride my cock.” he simply says and you do as you’re told. you looked so beautiful in that moment, with his dick moving in and out of you, while he laid on his back with his arms behind his head, admiring the view you so generously gave him.

he almost cums at the sight of your pretty tits bouncing up and down with every move you made on top of him, along with your pigtails that moved freely, but he tries to hold himself back, afraid of embarrassing himself in front of you.

“Fuck, you look— mmh… so pretty like this.” he praises and you instantly blush at his words, attempting to lay on his chest to hide your face but he pulls you back by your hair. “No, no, wanna see your face when you cum.”

shigaraki believes he died and went to heaven when you eventually do cum on him, because the look on your face is indescribable.

when you come down from your high, you barely have enough time to recover, as he pulls you off of him and lays you face down, ass up. you hear him mumble a very faint “wanna try something else.”

he inserts himself inside you again, ramming his dick into you at a fast pace. you let out a loud moan of his name when he pulls at your pigtails, wrapping them around his hands, your head hanging awkwardly as your body shakes from each thrust of his length.

shigaraki spends the rest of the night filling you up with load after load of his warm cum, with the promise of doing this again soon.

[justanotherfangirlwup]

Well, he tried.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

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.

[yanderenightmare]

tomura with hero reader whose quirk he's stolen, rendering them defenseless

Shigaraki Tomura

TW: slight nsfw, implied prev noncon, captive reader, Stockholm syndrome, implied mental break, mental deterioration, disassociation, manipulation, angsty, but also weirdly fluffy? reader is super fragile

gn reader

The chub of your inner thighs is still wet with the act. You rub them together for no other reason than that it feels pleasant. You trace the awful scars on his arm, using his warm chest as a pillow—the sound beating of his heart thumping rhythmically at your ear, a soothing presence.

 He balances a red book atop your crown.

He doesn’t seem very interested in reading it—only regarding it with jaded eyes, a meager scoff then and there before turning the page. But still, even though the book didn’t excite him, it bothered you that his attention was elsewhere. It sowed the seeds of doubt and gave root to way too many intrusive thoughts, sprouting out and spreading like weeds throughout your mind, making your chest curl at the possibilities.

“Do you think I'm ugly?” you have to ask. You have to know, why isn’t he looking at you.

He pans away from the page, beady garnet eyes softening from scrutiny to nonplus.

Your question stunted him—nearly made him believe he’d heard you wrong. Why someone like you would ever ask someone like him something like that seemed beyond all reason. It would be the same if a flower asked gravel.

But then again, you’d become a little ditzy as of late. Or maybe you’d been so for a little while already. It’s hard to say—you don’t talk as much as you used to. You no longer scream either, though that had ceased even longer ago.

You continue to delicately run your finger over the tear where his tough skin meets the even tougher purple tissue as though mapping the damage. There’s a frown on your face. No, not a frown—a pout. 

He thought for a moment to use it against you like he’d done everything else so far. Lie and say yes, tell you you’re about as ugly as he is—gravel—make you fall even further apart than what you were already. But something compelled him to choose differently.

“I think you're the prettiest thing in the world.”

Your pout is sucked between your teeth as you pick yourself up to peer down at him—eyes round and misty and something more, something strange—dare he say joyed?

You're scaring him.

“Really?” you choke out as if you’d been holding back a lump.

He hasn’t known how to treat you lately. You’ve become too soft to handle poorly—too frail to harass and too willing for him to feel the need to. Earlier, you'd even begged him to fuck harder and deeper—even cum inside. Actually, you hadn't veered away from his touch in a while. More like you've been embracing it.

He'd brushed it off as mere compliance at first, a state of meekness, weakened by being touch-starved, something that perhaps developed into a minor case of Stockholm syndrome.

But the way you're acting now—seems more concerning.

“Yeah,” is all he warrants as an answer. Though, he was curious as to yours as he begs the same question, “What about me?”

A smile graces your face then—there’s a comfort to it, a mild and affectionate one, unexaggerated, honest, as you smoothly swing your leg over his lap.

A look like that has no place on your face, especially when regarding him, and yet he finds himself hoping for more. He lays his book aside as you lean forward and doesn't stop you when you cup his face in both your palms.

“As far as I'm concerned, you’re not just the prettiest boy in the world—you're the only boy in the world.” You say it with a kiss, lips just as soft as the words leaving them. It shocks him, though he accepts and gives it back.

You close your eyes, laying your chest against his—he keeps his open to look at you. Observing and assessing.

You’ve truly become a whole other person altogether. A far cry from the tough hero you once were—the one who’d beat him within an inch of his life and leave him to choke on the blood.

“Will you stay with me today?” you ask against his lips—playing with his hair, looping the curly tresses around your fingers.

There’s a neediness to your voice, a certain desperation, a sadness—something lonely and something that reminds him all too much of himself. He feels both a strong urge to reject and soothe it all at the same time.

“No, I gotta go,” he says despite it. He had business.

You hide your face in his neck and continue with your tracing, now on the scrapes striping his throat where he’s raked his nails time and time again. “When will you come back?” Your tone comes out even sweeter, only a murmur mushed against his skin.

It nearly makes his heart twist. “It’s better I don’t answer that.”

It’s funny. Though the thought had struck him, he didn’t gauge any ill intentions. You could be asking, acting, plotting some escape based on the hours of his absence—yet somehow, with the way you nuzzle into him like that, as though you’re pouring your all-too-candid grief into him, he can't sense any other ulterior motive.

“Last time you left at this hour, you came back all beaten and bruised,” you mutter, now with a hint of bitterness—as if you’re cursing whoever hurt him under your breath.

It’s ironic. He sneers lazily, almost fondly, at the old memory. “You’re the one who used to beat and bruise me, remember?”

He’s truly curious if you do. Or if something’s spirited your past life away and left you like this—no longer an aspiring young hero, but something whose only value is warming his bed at night.

You arise, an appalled look of affront upon your face.

“No, that can’t be right,” you very nearly cry, as if the very thought was killing you. “I would never hurt you—I love you too much.”

Apparently, you don’t remember who you were at all.

“Love me?” he all but croaks. It’s a laughable prospect, and yet he doesn’t even smile. There’s something awful in his gut that prevents him. “Don't be stupid. You can't love me.”

Your face doesn’t drop its grimace, only further tears with forlorn outrage. “Of course, I love you!" you insist. "You’re my whole reason for living...”

You look so despaired—wrecked from his dismissal. The tears well quickly then slip down your face just as fast—and yet it isn’t the same crying as you used to. This time, it’s quiet—in wait or in dread as you beg the question, 

“Don't you love me?”

It’s an unexpected one, and it quickly proves to be an existential one—even more so than your unnerving confession. Despite not wanting to, it leaves him to dig through the muck in his head he’d long ignored, down in the dark where he’d tried burying the truth he'd felt oncoming. He'd wanted to deny it, reject it, amend it, simply because it confused him too much to acknowledge—complicated things—changed things he didn’t want or need changing.

He wonders if it’s somehow proof of fate—even though he despises such a concept. That, no matter how much you practice free will, no matter how many knots you make upon the red string, the world will pull and straighten it out, and you’re left to realize you’d brought it all on yourself.

First, he took your quirk, then he took your body—your mind shortly followed—and now it seems he’s managed to take your heart, too. 

There’s nothing left of you that isn’t his. 

There was a time he’d frolic at the thought of having reduced you to such a pathetic ghost in a shell—back then, he’d do anything to destroy you—he’d surely shatter you into a million little scattered pieces if presented with the chance, make sure you were broken for good. 

But that was the old him. Or rather, that was his dream for the old you—the hero he loathed down to his rotten core.

But the pretty misty-eyed thing looking down at him now, aching for his answer, wasn’t that person anymore.

And the truth is, the person you are now scares him more than that hero ever did. 

You were… well, you were the person who warms his bed at night, the person who traces his scars and plays with his hair—the person who wraps themselves around him and keeps him from falling apart when he stumbles through the door into the tiny little room he keeps you a prisoner in. You're his.

This time, his heart does twist. He’s never before spoken the words that dance on his tongue, or if he has, they’ve been long forgotten and come out as dust balls as he affirms them now, 

“Yes. I love you.”

There’s a flash of hope in your eyes, though it just as quickly diminishes—as if you don’t believe him.

Your lip warbles as you confirm it, “No, you don’t.”

More tears run silently down the tracks on your cheeks, gathering at the tip of your chin before dripping upon his chest—each one like a gunshot through something hollow.

“If you did, you wouldn’t go. You wouldn’t leave me here in this room, all alone.” Your nails curl into your palms where they rest atop him. You bow your head as though you can’t bear to look at him, as if it hurts. The next words come out beneath your breath, “How am I supposed to compete with the whole world?”

You’re making him feel like dying. The continuous twists of his heart feel as if you’re about to tear it right out of his chest.

He sits up and lifts your face. It’s strange, even with his two-finger gloves on. He doesn’t think he’s ever held you like this. Though, suppose it’s been a night of many firsts already. And here comes another,

“As far as I’m concerned, you are my world.”

There you are, the one thing he doesn’t wish to destroy.

Your sore eyes become round, then swell with different tears. There’s a hitch in your breath as you sigh through a shuddering sob, throwing your arms around his neck and clinging to him tightly—your body jostling while you rub your wet face into his neck, holding him close for comfort as if you're scared to ever let go.

He returns the gesture, though somewhat hesitantly, wrapping his arms around you and laying his head to rest against your shoulder.

And then, as he holds you—for the first time ever, fear of actually losing the fight ahead strikes him.

He hadn’t much cared about the outcome before. Either he’d destroy or be destroyed.

This wasn’t as simple. As said earlier, this complicated things.

But then again, it was even more of a reason to go.

“But I still have to leave.” 

You part from him—the betrayal in your tone demanding his justification, “Why?”

Suppose, in some ways, this actually made things simpler—as that was a question he had no problem answering.

“‘Cause there are monsters outside…” He rests his forehead upon yours, gazing back into those terribly glassy eyes looking back at him as he speaks to you about your dear old colleagues. “Monsters who want nothing but to take you away from me.”

If only they could see you now, they’d know… you no longer want to leave him.

“So I have to go out there and make sure they have no chance,” he explains, almost like a vow, “You’re mine, and I’ll destroy anyone who says otherwise to keep you that way.”

The way your eyes melt makes him feel all fuzzy. It’s a special type of glee, a victory before the battle even begins—to see you root for him—so deep in love with him that you’ve forgotten you’re celebrating the onset of death to all of your former friends.

They probably wouldn’t be able to take you away from him even if they somehow managed to invade this very room. You’d sooner die than betray him.

And that makes him feel all the more ready for the war ahead.

“So kiss me good luck, and I’ll come right back to you soon.”

♡ SHIGARAKI TOMURA ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[suksatoru]

shigaraki's breath hitches the moment your soft lips place a feathery kiss onto his jaw, and he averts his gaze from you, unable to bring himself to look into your eyes.

"always so busy..." you murmur, your kisses growing in quantity until his eyes are fluttering close. he grips the arm rests of his gaming chair as you continue your sweet assault on his face

the tension leaves his muscles eventually. he stops muttering those clipped remarks under his breath about how you're obsessed with him or too clingy - even as he spoke the words quietly, he kept a secure grip on your waist anyways.

your kisses were making him dizzy. his heart was beating fast, and he was embarrassed beyond belief when you pressed your ear against his chest with a cheeky grin to hear the sound of the thumping drum inside.

he finally knew what his favorite thing from you was. not those little sandwiches you make him when he's gaming, or the way you help him fold his clothes into those carefully practiced rectangles he never learned how to make - your kisses were the thing he loved the most. shigaraki liked to think that they made him a little more human than the monster he was being groomed into. you made him feel a little lighter, a little more real.

[takamiwife]

Needy shigaraki or keigo dry humping users thigh? :)

-🎭

BOTH!!!! BOTH IS GOOD!!!

we r doing both.

💌this is nsfw. mdni!!💌

cw for keigo’s: includes somnophilia (previously discussed consent mentioned)

after another long night, keigo could barely stand as he crept through your balcony window, immediately kicking his shoes off and stripping himself of his clothes, hitting the floor with a soft thud. left just in his boxers, he crawled into your shared bed, under the warm covers, and you shifted slightly, wiping your eyes.

“kei?” you asked in an adorable sleepy voice

“hey, baby, another late night..” he said, moving closer as he pulled you against him

“mhmm…” you hummed, already back asleep, lulled into a cozy world of comfort.

keigo chuckled softly, running his hands along your body, drinking in the sight of you. you wore that pajama set he liked, the cotton tank top and matching shorts. tiny matching shorts.

he pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head as you stirred ever so slightly. see, the thing about you is that you were sometimes a sleep talker, and that would include making little sounds and noises. keigo found it endearing, especially when you talked in your sleep, regaining your sleepy words of wisdom to you the next morning.

but for some reason, tonight was different.

while tiny mewls and whimpers fell from your lips, keigo’s cock twitched in his boxers.

“my pretty girl,” he whispered as he climbed on top of you. he kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your pretty, plush, slightly parted lips. “so sleepy, hm? had a long day? me too baby.. i’m sorry i wasn’t home..” he spoke softly into your hair, slowly beginning to grind against your leg.

you had told keigo before that you didn’t mind if he woke you up in this way; in fact, you’d actually find it hot. but you were so peaceful and he was sure that you were so tired, he couldn’t possibly wake you with his own needs.

so he’d get the next best thing

he moved his hips slowly, shaky gasps escaping his throat as he forced himself to stay at a steady pace. was he perverted or were you just this sexy to where he could get off from fucking dry humping your thigh?

he moved a hand to the edge of your tank top, slowly lifting it up to it sat just above your perky tits, and he couldn’t help but take one in his hand, whimpering and whining as he desperately fucked against your thigh.

“fuck, baby, you have no idea how good you make me feel. i’m fuckin’ your leg and i’m about to cum.. fuck, god, fuck, i can’t help it.. feels so good..”

his mind was becoming increasingly dazed, his usual groans and moans turning into pathetic whimpers.

“fuck, baby, can’t- i can’t- can’t handle much more.. feels.. feels real good.. ‘m gonna.. gonna fucking cum..”

as he picked up his pace, your tits began to bounce rhythmically, nearly hypnotizing him as he leaned down, hiding his face in your neck, holding onto you tightly as his orgasm was quickly building in him.

“mmh- gonna- gonna cum, baby.. fuck, just from your fucking thigh.. your pretty.. pretty thigh..”

his orgasm washed over him as his wings twitched, his cock spilling his cum into his boxers (a mistake he would realize in just a few moments) as he thrust against your leg a few more times as he rode out his orgasm.

after having a moment to breathe, he pulled away, his heart beating louder in his chest as you laid there like an absolute angel. he pulled your shirt down, kissing your cheeks a million times before cleaning up in the bathroom and changing his boxers. he immediately climbed back into bed with you, and for a rare time was the little spoon, letting your arms and legs wrap around him.

tomura laid on your stomach, holding you gently (careful to not use all five fingers of course) as you played a game on his switch. both of you were in your pajamas, consisting of a baggy t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. he moved his head under the switch, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“what’re you doing?” you ask, still focused on your game.

“what do you think i’m doing?” he grinned, fingers sneaking under your shirt, full of hunger.

“jesus, it doesn’t take much for you, does it?” you playfully scoff as you feel him already hard against your leg.

“nah, not at all..” he chuckled as he moved his hips gently, sighing at the light friction.

you and tomura’s sex life was far from dull; with both of you being more on the switch side, it definitely kept things interesting. right now, it seemed like he thought he had a semblance of control, but you were sure to turn the tides on that.

as he moved his hand further up your shirt, you paused your game, grabbing his hand through the thin fabric.

“no,” you hold it firmly. “just keep doing what you were doing. i’m busy.”

tomura raised an eyebrow.

“excuse me?” he nearly laughed.

“you heard me. just do it.” the tone in your voice was enough to make tomura weak in the knees. as much as he hated to admit it, god he loved when you were dominant with him.

he reluctantly began to move his hips against your thigh again, moving his hand outside of your shirt to cup your chest on the other side of the fabric (as much as it pained him).

he bit back his lip to hide his embarrassing whimpers as he desperately ground his hips against your thigh, hoping you would have some kind of mercy on him and just fuck him.

but you didn’t. you acted like he wasn’t even there as you continued your game.

“y/nnnnn…” he groaned as he looked up at you like a wounded puppy, still trying to hide any whimpers.

“yes?” you asked, not looking away from your game.

“please.. this is so..”

“if you don’t like it, why are you still going?”

“well, i-.. it’s just, i’m-“ through all his stuttering, he didn’t stop the quickening movements of his clothes cock against your thigh.

as soon as you looked at from over his switch with a tilted head with wide eyes that held a questioning look, waiting for him to properly answer, he buried his face in your chest, whining against your tits as he only increased his speed, becoming slightly sloppy in his pace.

“poor baby…” you teased, putting the switch down as you ran your hands through his hair.

“j-just.. feels- feels so good- b-but.. but i.. need- need you…”

“i know, i know..” you coo. “but you’re doing so good.. so good for me..” you grin as you watch him continue to lose his resolve, gripping your sides tighter as he fucked against your thigh. “you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

“yes, fuck, yes, please, please, please, please baby, please!”

any embarrassment tomura held melted away, as all he could think about right now was cumming whenever you said to.

he pulled his boxers down just enough so the pink tip of his cock stuck out, already dripping with precum.

“be a good boy for me,” you hum, leaning down to kiss his head. “i know you can.”

at your encouragement, tomura’s erratic thrusts halted to a stop as his body froze, his cum splattering across your thigh while his body shook, all while you ran your hands through his hair and along his back, praising him sweetly, reminding him how good he was, how proud you were of him.

once recovering, tomura made sure to clean you up, all while plotting the revenge you’d be receiving for the rest of the night.

[doumadono]

Warnings: fwb, finger fucking, period s*x, mentions of blood

Synopsis: navigating your period is never a walk in the park, especially with Dabi, your usual source of comfort, off base. Fortunately, your other friend with benefits is available. The question lingers - will your boss be willing to help ease your anxiety?

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

The dull ache had been gnawing at you for hours, twisting deep in your stomach and making it impossible to get comfortable, no matter how many times you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders or curled up smaller on the couch. You’d tried everything, maybe a little bit of everything at once, hoping that something - anything - might finally distract you from the constant cramping that made you restless, edgy, and worse, needy. That feeling always came with the ache, twisting at you with a constant want to feel something warm, something grounding against your skin.

Dabi, your usual go-to for comfort during times like these, had vanished again - off on one of his mysterious escapades. Bastard. He was off God knows where, doing who knows what, and while you wanted to curse him for vanishing at the worst possible time without even letting you know, your mind was already drifting to the only other person you trusted for this sort of comfort.

Tomura Shigaraki. The leader of the League of Villains, and your second friend with benefits.

His door was slightly ajar, a faint blue glow casting just enough light to outline his silhouette. Shigaraki sat splayed out on the bed, his room dim, save for the flickering screen that illuminated his focused expression. His hands moved expertly over the controller, his gaze locked onto the game with an intensity that made him seem unreachable - detached, in that familiar way.

You lingered in the doorway, feeling the dull ache low in your stomach pulse, the discomfort pulling at you. “Boss…” you murmured, stepping in quietly, letting the door click softly shut behind you. You padded over, slipping under his arm, tucking yourself against him as you nuzzled into his chest. His familiar scent washed over you, grounding you somehow, and for a moment, you just stayed there, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing as you sank into his warmth.

Shigaraki shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on the controller, and gave a low, exasperated sigh. “What is it?” His voice was low, his eyes still fixed on the screen, and though he hadn’t yet acknowledged you fully, the subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed a piece of his attention that was aimed at you.

“Hurts,” you mumbled, pressing closer, your voice soft, barely more than a whisper. You buried your face against his shoulder, letting out a small whine. “Feels tight, uncomfortable. And Dabi isn’t around, so…”

A low chuckle escaped his lips, and he finally tore his gaze from the screen to look at you, his eyes gleaming with pity. “So you came to me because he’s not around, huh? What am I, second best?” he teased, though his fingers were already tracing along your waist, the corners of his mouth quirking into a smirk. “You’re interrupting my game.”

You pouted, curling against him tighter, your hand resting on his chest. “Can’t you help me just a little, boss?” Your voice was a soft plea, needy, and you could feel his chest rumble with a low chuckle as he set the controller aside, finally giving you his full attention.

“Help you, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, his fingers reaching up to trace along your hip, teasingly slow, his gaze wandering over your face, studying the faint flush in your cheeks, the way your eyes lingered on his mouth. “And how exactly am I supposed to help with that, Y/N? Indeed though, you look like you’re suffering,” he added quickly, his voice rough and low, a hint of amusement curling at the edge of his mouth. His fingers brushed along your exposed thigh as your skirt rode up, careful, as always, to keep one finger lifted. “Funny though. Dabi is busy, so you come crawling to me. Look how pathetic you are, Y/N.”

You bit your lip, giving him a look that was both pleading and lustful as you leaned in, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Pretty please?” you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw, feeling the tension there as you let your lips linger. “It’s just cramping. I’m on my period,” you managed, feeling a wave of embarrassment rush through you, but he only narrowed his gaze, studying you as if you were some puzzle he wanted to solve.

“I guess I can help with that,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips, his hand trailing higher, his fingers ghosting along the waistband of your plain skirt. 

Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, the heat pooling low in your stomach twisting into something that made your whole body tighten with anticipation. “Tomura, but… I’m bleeding,” you reminded, your voice barely a whisper, half-expecting him to recoil, but instead, he only smirked, eyes darkening as he leaned in closer.

“Doesn’t bother me,” he replied, his tone laced with a dark, playful edge. “Blood never has.” A soft hum escaped him, his tone mocking, but there was a spark of interest in his eyes. His fingers pressed into the small of your back, guiding you forward with a firm, steady pressure, until you found yourself sitting on his lap, your back against his chest, his hands settling on your thighs. His grip was steady, demanding, and he leaned forward, his voice barely above a murmur as his breath brushed your ear. “Need attention that badly?”

Your heart pounded, cheeks flushed, but you felt yourself nodding, letting your arm drift up around his neck. “Maybe…” you managed, leaning back against him, feeling the press of his chest against your back, solid and steady.

His fingers kneaded the soft flesh of your thigh, slow and purposeful, sending a wave of heat through you that made your muscles tighten. His gaze flickered down as he watched your clothed pussy after he yanked the hem of your skirt up once more, his tone dropping to a murmur. “Then spread your legs wide f’me, like a good whore you are.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, but you obeyed, shifting so your thighs opened slightly on either side of his, giving him access. 

“Good girl.” His voice was a low murmur, edged with satisfaction, and his hand trailed higher, his breath warm against your neck. His fingers trailed along your inner thigh, tracing slow, lazy circles that made your breath catch, each touch sending sparks through your body. “Look at you,” he murmured, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he let his fingers drift higher. “Already desperate, aren’t you?” His calloused hand slipped between your thighs after he yanked the hems of your skirt up with the other hand, his touch rough yet cautious, the warmth of his fingers spreading as he traced gentle circles against the sensitive skin of your pantie-covered mound. 

Your breath hitched when his fingers slipped beneath the silky fabric of your panties, warm and rough against the softness of your folds, already covered in a slick arousal mixed with blood, and it was impossible not to tense under his touch. 

Shigaraki worked slowly, drawing it out, the pads of his fingers pressing in against your pussy lips just enough to make your body react - an involuntary clench of your tight hole around nothingness that sent a rush of heat to your face. You glanced away, but he seemed to notice every single shift in you, the way your breaths were coming quicker, shallower, under his attention. 

His smirk was faint but unmistakable, an almost lazy satisfaction that he let settle between the two of you. “Warm,” he claimed matter-of-factly, and there was something about the way he said it that made the room feel even smaller, his voice scraping low and rough. His fingers brushed your panties aside, exposing your glistening pussy to the chill of the air for just a moment before his hand covered your slit again. He took his time, tracing a line up and down the slick slit with an infuriating slowness, his eyes never leaving your face as his fingers explored with an intensity that made your whole body start to tremble. He used his index and middle finger to spread your labia, smirking wryly as he spotted your hole clenching rhythmically. “Fucking whore. I bet you’re tight too, aren’t you, sweet rose?”

You swallowed hard, feeling your face heat up, a pout already forming as he kept that steady, infuriating pace. “It… it’s uncomfortable,” you mumbled, voice catching as his fingers pressed harder against your lips.

He leaned closer, his nose brushing against the shell of your ear, his breath warm against the skin of your neck as he watched a pink-tinted, lucid mucus effused out of your tight hole. “Cheap whore. You’re dripping wet. Spread your legs wider f’me.”

Before you knew it, you had one foot on his bed, and the other lazily hooked over his left knee, showing off your glistening pussy so openly and lewdly that you felt like you were doing a porn shoot. Your entire attention was focused on the way he stroked and caressed your slick labia.

Tomura’s finger probed your opening which was already wet with anticipation, then traced back to the top, caressing your swollen clitoris again. He repeated this motion, tracing down, probing you, picking up your slick, thick wetness, and trailing back up to caress your clit. 

“Now, tell me where it hurts.” 

You whimpered, feeling your legs start to tremble as his finger slipped inside your wet, tight pussy that easily opened to welcome the much wanted intrusion. The long digit was stretching you, filling you with a deliberate fullness that made your head spin. “Right… right there, boss,” you whispered, clutching at his knee with the free hand, feeling your body tighten, a warmth blossoming in your core that sent jolts of pleasure through every nerve, so the only thing you could do was to buck your hips more into his rough palm.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled softly, placing a faint kiss to the column of your neck as you rolled your head back, his fingers moving faster, rougher now, his control slipping as he watched you come undone beneath him. “So desperate, and all that just for me.”

You were moaning like a whore as Shigaraki’s fingers fought the slippery friction of your cunny grip as he slowly finger fucked your hole.

Carefully, the white haired man curled his fingers downward and rubbed the tender underside of your pubis with soft, circular strokes. “That’s it, bitch,” he praised.

You could feel yourself getting closer, the pleasure building, overwhelming, and he seemed to sense it, too. You whimpered as the muscles in your back, shoulders, arms, and ass tensed. “Oi, Tomura!”

He chuckled, his free hand gripping your titties through your tank top, holding you steady as he worked his fingers inside you, his pace steady but relentless. “There you go, bitch,” the leader of the League of Villains praised, his lips grazing the column of your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin as his fingers curled, pressing against that perfect spot that made your body tense, and your breath hitch.

“Faster, faster,” you pleaded, grinding your hips so you rubbed your slick pussy lips against the heel of his rough palm.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” he continued, his voice a low growl as his fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing against your clit, tapping it a few times, sending jolts of pleasure through every nerve in your body. “Maybe next time, you’ll think about coming to me first.”

White haired man slipped another finger inside your bloody cunt, stretching you painfully as your core was super tight due to the period and cramps, filling you with a pure lust that made you gasp, your body arching as he pressed deeper, his thumb rubbing against your swollen clitoris. He grinned at your reaction, his finger curling inside you, hitting that perfect spongy spot that made your muscles clench, made your entire body tremble. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmured, adding yet another finger, pumping them in and out with a steady, deliberate rhythm that left you panting, your hips moving in time with his touch. He watched you, his gaze dark and hungry, a look of pure satisfaction crossing his face as you were falling apart beneath him. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact his protective glove was getting wet with your juices and blood.

His pace grew relentless, a rhythm that made you call out his name, on and on. The only sounds echoing around you were your soft mewls, a breathless symphony of pleasure,  mingling with his low, breathy grunts. Each time the heel of his hand met your slick labia, it created a wet, lewd sound that punctuated the air of his bedroom. 

You tried to close your legs when a massive orgasm crashed over you, leaving you trembling, but Tomura kept your legs open. He held you close, his fingers still moving slowly in and out of your abused hole, drawing out every last tremor, until you were left mumbling incoherently, breathless, completely undone in your boss’ lap.

You turned your upper body part in his arms, placing kitten kisses to his cheek and jaw, silently thanking him for relieving you.

When Tomura finally pulled his hand away, he looked down at the faint traces of blood mixed with cum smeared on his fingers. His nasty smirk widened.

Your body was still trembling, your mind hazy with pleasure as you watched Shigaraki, your breaths shallow as you tried to regain your composure. 

But then, his eyes met yours, dark and steady, as he raised his hand to his mouth. 

Heat flooded your cheeks, your heart racing as he brought his long fingers - slick with your arousal and faintly stained with traces of blood - toward his mouth. He paused, inhaling deeply as if savoring the scent of his quarry, embodying the essence of a predator assessing its prey. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he wrapped his cracked lips around his fingers, licking and sucking them clean, every movement intentional and tantalizing, his gaze never leaving your eyes. He hummed at the taste, palming himself through his pants without giving it a second thought.

You expected a grimace, maybe even a disgusted comment, but instead, his expression was one of dark satisfaction, his tongue tracing his fingers with an intensity that made your stomach flutter, that set your already sensitive nerves tingling all over again. The way he looked at you, like he was savoring every last taste, made a soft, shy whimper slip from your lips. You tried to avert your gaze, but it was impossible to look away from him, from that wicked, knowing smirk on his face.

“Something wrong?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence, though you could see the amusement in his eyes. “What, did you think I’d be grossed out?” His smirk widened as he leaned in close, his voice a low murmur that made you shiver as he kissed your nose.

You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning as you met his gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and undeniable excitement twist in your stomach. 

He didn’t mind. He didn’t care about the blood, didn’t care that you’d practically begged him to touch you. He’d taken it all in stride, and the realization left you feeling both vulnerable and completely captivated by him. 

You glanced away, feeling your cheeks flush as you tried to hide the shy smile threatening to show. The room felt smaller somehow, quiet, and his gaze on you felt heavy, like it held you in place. You could feel him watching you, studying every flicker in your expression, every nervous breath. Finally, you managed, “I… I just thought…”

Tomura cut you off, his voice soft but with that firm, unmistakable edge that left no room for protest. “You thought wrong,” he murmured, his hand resting just above your knee, his fingers brushing over your thigh in a way that sent an unmistakable spark through you. The warmth of his skin, the way his touch lingered, sent your heart racing, pulse pounding loud in the silence. He leaned in, lips brushing your ear, the warmth of his breath so close that it made you shiver. “If you’re coming to me for this,” he whispered, each word low, deliberate, “then you’d better be prepared. I don’t do it halfway.”

A thrill settled in your stomach at his words, twisting into something deep, something that left you breathless as his hand drifted higher, thumb tracing lazy circles over your thigh. You bit your lip, trying to calm the heat spreading through you, but it was no use. There was an anticipation in the air, a tension that had you leaning in, your voice soft, playful, but with an edge of your own. “Guess I owe you… for helping me out like this.”

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his eyes on you, the slight quirk of his brow that told you he was watching, waiting. 

Without breaking eye contact, you slid off his lap, sinking to your knees on the floor in front of him, one hand finding the bulge that was already building beneath the fabric of his pants. You ran the tip of your tongue along your upper lip.

His eyes flickered, interest gleaming there, the corner of his mouth curving into a look that was more than a smirk but not quite a smile. It was something darker, something that lingered, his fingers reaching out to brush over your cheek, his thumb tracing along your jaw in a touch that was gentle, but expectant before he pressed the digit against your lips, watching you part them for him, sucking the finger in your mouth like a good, obedient whore you were. “Then I’ll be expecting that repayment soon,” he whispered, his voice like velvet, “Very soon.”

tagging: @baby--vera @unhinged-bratty-boy @shonen-brainrot @shionancientsblog @irkedpomeranian @within-eyesight @misafiryanki @cyberrthegreat @grossograsso @krabkornel @roast-toast @arthurbristow @alexandhisstuff @proherodabisballsack

[kawamarii]

MARI ,, IF YOU WATCH MHA ,, CAN YOU PLEASE SHARE UR THOUGHTS ON VIRGIN SHIGARAKI ⁉️⁉️⁉️

oooh girl.

contents: virgin!shigaraki. established relationship.

shigaraki is so crazily built. he hides his body with those baggy clothes of his and so when he wears a compression shirt you nearly lose it. washboard abs on display? who wouldn’t drool?

you guys are kissing, making out, swapping saliva, and it’s getting heated. you and shigaraki have been dating for around 2 months, and you haven’t crossed the next level, you both wanted to take it slow.

but god, you can’t take it anymore. you need him.

your hands slide down his abdomen and one of his sprawls out on the small of your back. both his and your reactions are a tell-tale sign of both of your excitement.

so when you trail your hands a liiiiittle lower, he stops you. his hand gently grips your wrist, and you don’t miss the small dust of baby pink on his pale complexion.

“h- hold on.”

you look at him, confusion etched on your face. “what’s wrong?”

he clears his throat for a second, adverting his gaze from you. “i’m, uh,” he begins, “imavirgin.”

you almost laugh. not at him, but more out of disbelief. well, you’re both aware he’s a little … antisocial in that area, but he’s fucking hot — he’s never gotten play?

you give him a soft smile, pressing your lips against his face and trailing down his neck,

“don’t worry,” you hum, “i’ll take care of you.”

he grabs your ass like life support.

he’s in for a long night.

© marimisses on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[killsaki]

backdoor cover. — tomura isn’t into betting too much, but he doesn’t mind winning.

no quirks!college!tomura shigaraki x f!reader

4.6k words | read on ao3 | minors dni.

CW / TW : DARK CONTENT! dubcon, drugging, mean!tomura, slight misogyny, victim blaming, really shitty college guys, you get slightly stepped on, fingering, creampie, planned noncon.

moving from your hometown is nerve racking no matter how old you are.

though, it is a bit easier in college than it would've been in middle school where you would have to stress about making new friends or impressing the cool kids. now, it’s mostly just the annoyance of having to figure things out like where all your classes are, and how the hell you’re going to find entertainment to keep you sane during the semester when you’re hundreds of miles from anything that you know.

but, lucky for you, the campus you’ve transferred to is the same campus as the oh so friendly, keigo takami.

the man was the definition of a social butterfly. he’d approached you the first day you were able to find your way to buy lunch on campus, learning your name and memorizing it to greet you every time the two of you crossed paths. then it advanced to him starting to make small talk when the two of you were standing in the same vicinity for longer than a minute. one day those short conversations turned into him walking you back to your car after classes and inviting you to parties his friends—or possibly other random people he’d interacted with on campus—would throw.

and at one of those parties, somehow, you became friends with touya. though, the entirety of the first conversation the two of you had was just you both tossing light insults at each other. at some point the two of you, like you had with the blonde, become friendlier. there’s still as many jabs at each other, but hanging out is never too bad.

keigo and touya both have introduced you to so many people, all of which have turned out to be just as fun and just as entertaining to talk to as they have been. you’ve felt nothing less than welcomed by all of their peers.

that is until you went back to their shared apartment one day and met their roommate. it wasn’t terribly awkward at first, he was slumped over on the couch whenever you came in for the first time. his eyes fixated on the television screen, fingers moving away on the game system controller held in his hands. you had greeted him, and he grunted back, not caring to offer a glance your way let alone a word.

you had sat at the bar by the kitchen while touya did whatever it was that he needed to do, your feet swung off the tall seat as you scrolled through your phone, having a pointless conversation with the dark haired man. only after you heard the noises from the tv halt did you hear the couch squeak as shigaraki pushed himself off of it and made his way into the same room. you watched as he slid past touya, trying his hardest not to actually touch him while doing so, and reached into the fridge for whatever offbrand green soda he decided to pull out. and you took note of how much smaller he seems than the other man—and also about how cold he looks, both metaphorically and physically.

“what?” he’d spoke for the first time, then standing in front of you as he looked at you with complete irritance written on his face.

“nothing.” you quickly responded, blinking as his eyes burned into yours.

“you know—” touya starts, waving his hand towards you with his back turned.

“from the bet with birdbrain?” tomura’s eyes still bore into yours as he spoke.

“you suck,” the man behind you was interrupted by the other as he obnoxiously slurped his drink and nodded almost sarcastically and turned back to find his seat once again. “but, yeah.”

you had a conversation as soon as you two left the apartment what was being betted on and what it had to do with you. though, touya probably wasn’t the right one to have that conversation with, he did nothing to ease the odd feeling that sat in your stomach from the way that shigaraki stared at you like you had offended him just by being there.

keigo, on the other hand, assured you that the guy just had issues with social cues and what not. he didn’t leave the apartment much and that it had nothing to do with you. though.. now that you think about it, he didn’t bother to explain what the bet was.

“keigo,” you look up from your laptop’s screen to where he’s sitting on his couch, eyes falling to his spread legs for a moment before catching the shine off the gold chain adored around his neck. “why do you never have clothes on when i come over?”

he tears his eyes from his own screen and blinks at you for a second before looking down at his outfit. one that he seems to be constantly wearing whenever you tell him you’re swinging by to hang out.

“these are pajamas, dove.” he raises his eyebrows at you.

“but i got here at noon?” you squint your eyes at him, only to roll them when he laughs.

“it’s also saturday.” he goes back to typing away on his laptop, and you almost do the same until you remember the reason you actually called his name in the first place.

“why does,” you pause, looking towards the hallway that leads to all of the men’s rooms and lower your voice before finishing your sentence. “what did you and touya bet on?”

you can see how his whole body stops for a moment, his fingers resting on the keys, smiling with his eyebrows drawn together.

“lots of things, which are you talking about?” he asks dumbly, as if this is the first time you’ve brought this up.

“when i first came over here, and i met your roommate, he said something about a bet between you two.”

“when was that again?” his head falls back against the cushions, fingers patting a beat on the poor metal of his laptop.

“last month.” you indulge him with pointless detail.

“i’m not sure why he would say that.” he shrugs.

“no clue?” you feel annoyance start to grow in your chest, it’s not like keigo to be clueless about anything. ever.

“none.” he still doesn’t bother to look at you.

“you’re lying.” 

“i’d never lie.” the pat on his keyboard stops as a door opens behind him.

“you’re doing it right now.” you mutter, nudging his knee with your foot in an attempt to keep him talking.

“where the hell are your clothes?” he snaps his head once he catches a glance of his roommate who is only dressed in a pair of tight boxers.

“i pay rent here, i don’t have to wear clothes.” touya yawns back, ringed fingers dragging down his face.

“sure, if you’re fine with the guest seeing you nearly naked.” you can see keigo smiling even with his head turned as touya looks back to see who he was talking about, which, of course, is you. and you’re trying your hardest not to look at him as well, forcing your eyes to stay on keigo or even on your laptop screen but the ink that seems to wrap all the way around his torso catches your curiosity.

“you can look,” he speaks with his eyes locked on you, waiting for you to make eye contact before continuing. “let me know if you want a different angle.”

you scoff, lobbing the pencil you had nearby at him and successfully hitting his back. which results in insults being thrown at you, ones which you playfully retort to. and suddenly the tension from your thoughts before is gone. your mind back at ease when you just relax into the friendship that you have with these two for hours while the three of you eat and watch movies—only after touya successfully pulls the two of you along into his procrastinating crusade.

and you don’t even think about tomura again.

until he comes out of his room.

it’s much later into the evening, the sun has already fallen and you’re about to get ready to leave when he makes his appearance. white hair falls around his face to where you’re almost unable to see his eyes, but you do, and you catch the way he side-eyes down at you the second you come into his view.

he doesn’t say anything as he makes his way into the kitchen and grabs himself a bowl of something, or when he sits at the bar to eat his food. only when he’s on his way back does he slurp obnoxiously on his drink and hover behind where both touya and keigo are sat and asks,

“who won?” you don’t bother to look up from the tv, knowing he wasn’t speaking to you. but neither of them say anything. “so, you’re both still losers.” again, silence. besides another slurp. “whatever.”

he heads back to his room, door shutting behind him to confirm he wasn’t coming back.

“he heard the game?” you ask, not looking away from the screen. you made sure to have them turn the tv down whenever you all got on shigaraki’s console, the last thing you wanted was to give him any more reason to dislike you. but you know in your gut that it wasn’t what he was referring to.

“probably.” touya shrugs.

“no tellin’.” keigo adds on.

“right.” you nod, tension in the air thickening just as before. “i’m gonna go.”

they both snap their eyes your way, watching as you pack your things from the homework session you were supposed to be having with keigo.

“you leaving already?” keigo sits forward, a bewildered look on his face. “you didn’t even finish your drink.”

“you’re gonna owe me for wasting my soda,” touya pipes back in. “might as well just stay and finish it.”

you just force a laugh, pulling the doors handle without another word. you drive home the same way, in silence. and once you get back to your apartment, you ignore all their notifications, including neglecting to send your nightly goodnight snapchats to them both. but even as the night drags on and the hours go by, you can’t force yourself to sleep. there’s a weird, uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, one that keeps you from being able to get comfortable.

you know that they’re not bad people, that they’ve been great friends to you over the past few months and you can trust them. yet, even reminding yourself of that, you can’t get the weight off of your chest. so, you grab your keys and head back to their apartment hoping keigo will put you at ease like he always—usually does.

“they’re not here.” tomura blinks down at you, hair messy as ever as it frames his face that holds his permanently bored expression that does nothing to help the ever growing pit in the bottom of your stomach.

“where’d they go?” you ask quietly, half expecting him to shut the door in your face.

he only shrugs, turning and leaving the door open as he starts to walk away. you feel your body fall cold, thoughts eating at you without anything to slow them down. you can’t even remember what it is you’re so worried about, why you even feel this way.

“you’re letting the heat out.” you hear him mumble, as he starts to gather his things from the living room into his arms loudly. “i don't care what you do, just shut the door.” his shoulders roll back when he stands fully again and heads to his room. he’s so much taller when he actually stands up right.

you decided to wait inside, maybe you could catch keigo when he comes back. or even touya and—it’s two am. you step inside and shut the door behind you, falling to the couch once you reach it. maybe watching tv will help pass the time, oh and your soda is still on the table, perfect. now you don’t have to ask tomura for anything.

“why are you here?” he sighs, passing behind you, as if he was forced to ask.

“i just wanted to talk to them.” you light up your phone screen, debating on just calling them to see where they are.

“they had a bet.” you can see him trying to crack his neck from where he stands at the side of the couch. “if that’s what you came to talk about.”

“what?”

“you always ask them questions that they don’t answer, and you see how they get quiet whenever i ask them who won. before whats-his-name started talking to you they had a bet.” he talks down at you like it’s the most obvious thing, like you should’ve known this already.

you can feel your hands bunch up the material of your pants as they curl into fists on their own.

“it was who could fuck you first.”

and you think you can hear your heart as it falls out of your chest, toppling down your body and the couch as it clunks to the ground.

“that’s the only reason they started talking to you.”

he sighs, plopping himself down on the other side of the sofa, just far enough away from you that the two of you wouldn’t be touching.

“they probably actually like you now.”

 like that was supposed to bring you any comfort.

“why don’t you like me?” you say it before you can even process the painful information he’s already given you, before you even really think about it. though, you don’t have any anxiety about his answer. he’s already told you the worst thing possible about the two people you’d become closest with and you know he doesn’t like you. nothing he can say will make the way you feel any worse.

“huh?” he looks over at you with an eyebrow raised, but lips tilted in annoyance.

then you remember tomura is brutal with his words and truly doesn’t care about other people's feelings. maybe he’ll tear into you just to get you to leave.

“you always glare at me, you ignored me when i’ve tried to speak to you, you-”

“god, shut up.” he lays his head back against the cushion of the couch, spreading his legs so that his knee leans against yours. “i don’t like you because you’re stupid.” he’s as blunt as you expected him to be, but it doesn’t feel like theres any malice behind his words.

“i don’t think i’m stupid.” you say out loud, but mostly to yourself, you know tomura doesn’t care what you think. you stare at the watered down drink in your hand, mouth gone dry from the horrible feeling in your gut, you bring it up to your lips and drink as much as you can before you need to breathe.

“that’s why you are stupid.” he rolls his neck to look at you, head still laying on the couch. white hair caked to his face, red eyes staring at you without that usual grimace for what feels like the first time. “you think you’re too smart to be fooled, that’s why they were able to get to you so easily.”

“but i didn’t fall for anything because i never did anything with them.” you reason, taking another gulp from your drink and he just blinks back at you.

“you’re still in their hands.” he yawns, shifting his hips. “even if they do like you, what’s stopping them from using you as a quick fuck one night?”

you can’t think of an answer. it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have sex with one of them, but really you always thought one of them would ask you to be their girlfriend if anything was to happen between you and whichever. the couch squeaks when he moves his hips again, readjusting once more.

“why would you tell me about all this if you’re their friend?”

“to get you out of my apartment.”

the feeling clouding your entire body couldn’t possibly get any worse, but the thought that he might’ve been telling you cause he cared, even if it was the tiniest bit- that might’ve helped. maybe you shouldn’t have even asked.

“right.” you nod, pursing your lips. “i’ll leave then, thanks.”

the second you stand up, the light from the hallway shines onto tomura’s lap. how the fuck did you miss that he had a hard on this entire time.

“oh.” you say before you have a chance to stop yourself. “sorry- i’m sorry.” you cover your mouth heading for the door, but after a few steps you start to feel dizzy, ultimately collapsing to the floor when your knees go weak. you hear something that sounds like ‘what the fuck’ come from behind you but it sounds muffled. you heart racing makes the sound of your blood pumping far too loud to hear anything else. but then, he’s crouched in front of you looking even more displeased than when he’d first opened the door. he doesn’t even say anything, just sneers at you.

“what was in that drink?” you grasp his shirt, hold shaking as your hand trembles. you feel the warm pit in your stomach from earlier increase by tenfold. it brings heat to your cheeks when you realize there's a puddle starting to form in your underwear, that your cheeks are burning and the feeling overtaking you is want. 

“oh, you really are fucking stupid.” he sighs, looking over to your nearly empty glass and chuckling in disbelief. always so cruel. “maybe they don’t actually like you.”

“tomura..” you can feel the tears prick at your eyes as the heat boiling under your skin starts to spread. “what do i do?”

he sighs again, because you being here is such an inconvenience, the thought of him having to help you is a complete detriment to his night.

“leave, call the police on them for drugging you, go to the hospital, fuck if i care.” he stands back up, groaning as he stretches and you moan from the sound alone. it makes the heat in your cheeks flare with embarrassment and you feel like you may pass out from it all. his feet shift in front of you, and all you can do is curl in on yourself, clutching to your clothes and press your thighs together in an attempt to ease the ache building between them. the pain that in an instant reaches from the top of your head down to the soles of your feet, making even them blister and throb.

“you’re so pathetic.” he mumbles, nudging your shoulder up with his socked foot. “you’re just gonna sit there and hump my floor?”

you let the tears fall, stop holding in the sobs you’ve been trying to keep silent. you want to think about how wrong you were, how you truly thought you could trust keigo, touya even. but tomura was right, all along he was warning you without even talking to you. you want to cry and to curse them but you can’t, your mind is clouded over with lust and it’s taking everything in you not to stick your hand in your pants right there like some kind of deviant.

“say it and i’ll help you.” he pushes up harder with his foot, forcing you to sit upright, to look at him. the light from the kitchen illuminates behind him, and from here he looks the same as every single murderer in every scary movie you’ve ever seen. as much as you want to feel even the smallest bit of creeped out, embarrassed, or even to reject his shitty offer. you can’t, your body won’t let you be rational. it fights against everything you know is right.

“s-say what?” you try to steady your breathing, hiccuping as tears still stream down your face.

“that you’re pathetic, stupid, i’m not picky.” he shrugs, rubbing one of his eyes as he looks down at you expectantly.

“i’m.. pathetic.” you say it, admit it easily, because even now with a half empty mind you know it's true.

without word, the same foot that pushed you up, presses against the side of the same shoulder forcing your body to the floor. you allow it, not complaining even when the flat of his foot lands between your shoulder blades to press your chest down. he props your hips up and works your bottoms down without speaking, which is probably for the best. there’s no way anything he could say would make you feel better about this situation or the fact that he’s the one ‘helping’ you through it.

it seems to worsen the second that your sex is exposed to the air, your whole body rushing with what feels like molten lava in your viens.

you push against his touch the second it slides along your slit, moaning loudly into the plush of the carpet. it earns you a slap with the back of his hand against your skin but it only plays further into your pleasure, which makes him huff behind you. the need for something more—anything more overwhelms you and you start to beg mindlessly, truly, because you don’t know what the fuck is falling from your tongue, only that your mouth is infact moving.

“shut up.” shigaraki grunts from behind you. “so fucking annoying.” he’d probably been trying to prep you, to give you some kind of mercy, but then again he could’ve just been attempting to tease you. either way, he cuts it short, shifting behind you and pushing the tip of him against your already fluttering entrance. his free hand comes down to where his foot had been, pressing flat between your shoulder blades to keep you in place.

he gives you no grace as to ease it in. your hands claw at the carpet as he shoves all that he can in with one thrust, nails digging into your skin come with the sharp breath the both of you let out. you’re nothing more than a body, than the euphoria you feel with each push of his hips to force his cock fully in, than the sound that slips from your mouth beneath him. you can tell with each movement tomura is doing this for himself and couldn’t care less about how you feel, doesn’t even think about how thick he is. doesn’t care if the stretch from him burns, if it makes you cry or hurt—and if he does, it’s because that’s what he wants.

but that thought alone makes you clamp around him, forcing a small sound from his chest. you can feel your slick along the insides of your thighs when he finally presses his hips fully against your ass, you know it has to be dripping down the base of him to his balls. you’ll blame it on the foggy state of your consciousness but it makes your mouth water, the thought of him using you for his own pleasure. the smallest hint of him being attracted to you well enough to get off to you despite him being so indifferent about you before. it makes you hungry in a way that probably can’t be blamed on whatever drug your so-called-friends slipped into your drink.

you pull your hips away from his before pushing back once again, drawing another sound out of you both. the hand digging into your spine drags its nails to your hips, the other finding its way there to grip you at both sides as you fuck yourself back onto him. with each push you feel his hips cant forwards the tiniest bit to meet yours, and it sends pride throughout you. not to mention the feeling of him easing the all consuming ache with each stretch of him that he allows you.

his hands move from their position to grip at your ass, crescent claws digging into the soft there as he spreads your cheeks and takes control of your pace. it’s as rough as you’d expect from him, you’re sure you’re going to be bleeding with the way he forces your movements with his hold on you. you scramble to hold onto the carpet when he moves slightly, no doubt accidentally, and the tip of him prods against that spot inside you that has you losing your mind.

“oh god, fuck-fuck-” slips out, you’re actually able to catch that one.

“shut the fuck up.” he replies, voice strained. and suddenly you can hear the panting, it’s loud and fills the room right alongside the sound of his balls smacking against your skin. he feels good, it’s so obvious when he speaks.

“feels s’good,” you slur out again when he adds even more speed to his thrusts. “s’good, thank you, thank you.”

“shut up, shut up.” his voice comes out as a moan this time. one of his hands comes down just above your ass, pushing your hips flat to the floor and he moves his knees on either side of your thighs.

“s’close, please-” is all you’re able to get out before his palm is over your lips.

“just fuckin’ take it and shut up.” he hisses in your ear as his body lays over your own. you can feel him panting now, against the juncture of your neck. “they’re so fuckin’ dumb.” he mumbles, groaning when his movements become sporadic, clearly nearing the edge as you start to clamp down on him.

a few more pushes against your soft, warm, sticky walls, and you can’t keep the blurry coffee table in your sight. your eyes roll back as hot static forces its way through your veins and up your spine. the twitch of his cock inside of you only adding to it, the spill of his seed on the other hand seems to pull you out of it and only the small sounds of his whimper keep you in place. it was something beyond the bliss of an orgasm to hear such a stiff man moaning for you.

it’s soft then, his cock as he pulls it out, and his movements. he tucks himself back in his pants without bothering to clean himself, but for you, he strips away your bottoms before helping you up and to the door to his room. you want to finally be rational now that you have the means. you want to go home and wash tonight off of you. to leave and never come near tomura’s roommates ever again. but when he tosses you down on his bed and comes back from the bathroom that you had no clue that he had in his room, to give you the rag to clean yourself, you decided against it. maybe, you should just sleep.

you pass out the second he gestures you to actually lay down, the look of annoyance back on his face when he does so. and you’re fast asleep by the time there’s a jingle of keys at the door, neither of them speak as they come in to find their roommate on the couch, fingers fiddling away at the console controller. though if you were there to look at them, you would see how keigo’s eyes instantly darted over to your empty drink. and how touya’s mouth immediately twists up in annoyance.

“she wasn’t at her place.” touya says, falling down beside his friend. “thought you said the pills that guy had would’ve had her like putty.”

“bad info.” he shrugs, shooting the last kill on his game before looking over at the blonde still standing. “got somethin’ to say?”

“what happened to the drink?” keigo asks, but the crack in tomura’s door is more than enough to see the figure laying in the bed.

“oh, right,” shigaraki takes his focus back to the tv and uses one hand to switch screens, holding the other out, palm up. “i won.”

repost from my old blog <3

[ghostcore3]

tomura shigaraki isn’t the type to be shy around someone he likes. all for one didn’t raise him like a normal child, and it shows. he’s straightforward about what he wants, needs, and hates.

so if he wants something from you, expect him to be vocal about it. if something itches him, he’s going to express it. he doesn’t hold back or shy away from what bothers him. while he doesn’t vocalize love easily, he’s not afraid to show admiration or respect when he feels it.

embarrassment and shame? not in his vocabulary. tomura strikes me as someone who embraces his feelings and desires without hesitation, especially when it comes to expressing what he respects or admires about others, what he hates and wants from them.

[iisasxia]

would you ever think about writing for shigaraki? Or one of the villains? I love the heroes but there's just something about this skinny man when he's half naked that makes me FERAL.

Yes I do !! Ironically my favorite mha villain IS Shigaraki, he is soooooo fine. Especially in the episode where they break him out of the glass tube and he was in that black suit. I had to rewind 🤭

So so happy to write for this man, thank you bby for the ask 💗

- author

Tomura never wears a shirt. It’s so common and normal to see him walking around in sweats, a pair of headphones wrapped around his neck, and those stupid fuzzy sandals Dabi got him one year for Christmas. (He burned his other shoes so he has to wear them)

It was an unusual hot day and everyone was melting, you were sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand while groaning at the thought of even moving a finger. You were wearing small jean shorts, a tank top and your hair was up out of your face. You were scrolling on tik tok before getting a notification..

[Tomu]: hey

[Tomu]: bring me a water

[Tomu]: please.

You groaned before getting up off the couch to bring him a drink from the fridge, he had been in his room for hours on end. I mean to be fair it did have the best air conditioning but nothing to as stopping him from getting it himself. You opened the fridge and grabbed the water, it was freezing. You looked around before opening it and taking a small sip, it’s not like he’d notice anyways, and plus you’re doing him the favor of bringing it to him.

You close it tight before exhaling in sudden relief at the cold sensation spreading throughout your body. You stretched your arms above your head, now revealing your pelvic bone before reaching for the drink and heading to his room.

You knock on the door.

“Im coming in.” It was good to give warnings , one time you walked in on him changing and weren’t able to look him in the eye for about a week. He didn’t mind whether you knocked or not, it’s not like he had anything to hide.

You open the door and to no surprise he’s sitting and rotting away in his gaming chair. The room was cold though, it was so nice.

You take in his messy figure, his toned arms flexing as he pressed the buttons on the controller, his jawline and side profile looked amazing from this angle, and his-

“Thanks.”

The response broke you out of your daze as you let go of the water bottle after having placed it on his desk.

“Yeah no problem” and you look at a poster on the wall that you could have sworn to of recognized when you went out to the mall last week.

What you didn’t notice was him taking in your figure. Since it was hot you wore a tank top with nothing to cover underneath.. and since his room was cold, it prominently revealed your nipples to his field of his vision. Now he was fully looking at you. Your little shorts, the slight sweat between your thighs, how your shirt is slightly rising up, the sweat dripping from your jawline and how your hair is a bit messy but cute.

You look back at him and he’s just playing the game.

“Did you need anything else ?” you place your hand on your hip as you talk to him.

He shook his head.

“Okay well I’ll be out there if you need me.” And with that you turn away and head to the door, until a sudden tug against your belt loop on your shorts pulls you back.

“Tomura ??” You turn to look at him with furrowed eyebrows only for them to sprint up when you realize what he was going to say.

“Did you take a sip of the water ?”

his voice was low, it didn’t indicate that he was mad, just curious.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head..

But before you could explain his tall figure was now hovering over you. Your back pressed against his desk and his hands on both sides. On any other day he would’ve let you walk away with it but he was in a bad mood, especially with this heat.

“Tomura-?“

his hand on your hip tugging you close to him was enough to make your knees weak, this was a different side of him, and the dirty smirk on his face was only making the heat between your legs grow.

—

“Since you wanna take a sip of my drink I might as well give you a real reason to be hot.”

[hotch33tos22]

Tomura Shigaraki X reader

“Stupid Questions.”

You were sitting on the bed, your back rested on the backboard. Tomura laid in between your tights as he played his most rageful games.

"Tomu..." you softly spoke as you twirled and played with his soft puffy hair.

He groaned as he felt your gentle fingers play with his locks, but he didn't dare move. In his mind he was more focused on the game, and he did not want to lose.

"..What..?"

"Can I ask you a question?..." you almost whispered as you looked down on him.

He grumbled under his breath as you questioned him mid-game. He felt annoyed, but he decided to answer in the end.

"What."

"What do you like about me?.." you spoke out as your heart thumped patiently waiting to hear what he had to say.

The question surprised him as he paused his game, giving you a side-eye glance.

He remained silent for a few seconds as if thinking, before he finally spoke.

'...Why do you ask...?"

He tried to maintain his usual emotionless demeanor, but the fact he paused the game spoke volumes on his genuine curiosity.

"just wondering..." your took a strand of his hair as you twirled it letting it go to turn into a somewhat curly spiral

He watched you play with his hair, your soft touch feeling nice on his head, and his usual stoic expression softened a bit.

"...Don't ask me stupid questions when I'm in the middle of a game."

He grumbled, his focus shifting to the game as he un-paused and continued playing.

"Oh..." your heart stopped thumping fast as your lips quivered,

"right..." you replied as you looked up to see him play to distract your mind instead.

He could feel your disappointment, and a tinge of guilt tugged at him. He was never one for sweet words, but he hated the thought of disappointing you in any way.

He took a sidelong glance at you, noticing your sad expression, which made him feel even more guilty. He grumbled under his breath, hesitating before he finally spoke again.

"I like... how gentle you are with me."

Your face quickly lid up , You tried to hide your happiness at his response as you looked down at him waiting to hear what else he had to say.

He felt a subtle blush creeping across his cheeks, uncharacteristic for him. He was clearly not used to this but continued nonetheless, trying to keep up his indifferent appearance.

"You... You know how to deal with me when I'm angry, you... don't push me too hard, and you..."

He stumbled over his words for a moment, searching for what to say next.

“..You know how to deal with me and you... tolerate my bullshit."

He muttered, his usual stoic veneer cracking a bit. He hated being vulnerable like this, but he also hated not giving you what you wanted.

He kept his eye on the game, avoiding your gaze.

If it was anymore possible your lips widen at his words, it felt nice being told that he liked about you...it was rare to see this side of Tomura... and you love it.

He could feel your eyes on him, and it was driving him insane. He hated being scrutinized like this, it made him feel vulnerable and exposed.

He wanted to look at you, but at the same time he didn't. He was torn between his usual grumpy indifference and wanting to give you the attention you wanted.

He grumbled under his breath, his grip on the game controller tightening.

'..Stop looking at me like that."

"Can't help it..."

His breath hitched at your response. He tried to maintain his composure, but he could feel his heart racing as he heard the playful tone in your voice.

He kept his focus on the game, but he was starting to lose his concentration. He was now more focused on how you were looking at him, and it was making him feel all sorts of things he didn't expect.

'..You're such a pain in the ass."

He grumbled, his hands feeling slightly sweaty against the controller.

"You wanna know what I like about you?"

You hummed as you took your eyes off him and watched him play.

He huffed in annoyance, but he was still paying attention to your words. He continued playing, albeit more distracted now due to your question.

He didn't respond, but he gave a small nod, indicating for you to continue.

"I like your protective...." You hummed with a smile plastered on you as you cupped his cheeks softly enough to not distract him.

His shoulders tensed slightly as you cupped his cheeks, but he leaned into your touch all the same. His heart thudded in his chest at your words, and he had to force himself to keep his focus on the game.

He grumbled under his breath, his cheeks feeling warm against your hand.

'Keep going."

You softly giggled at his words but even so you continued.

"I like it when although you're mad you still tell me to be careful or to take care when you have to go and never let me sleep upset..." your thumbs rubbed softly at his cheeks.

He tried to act nonchalant, but he couldn't stop himself from blushing. His face was turning redder by the second as you continued to praise him, and he could feel his heart beating faster and faster.

He grumbled under his breath, trying to disguise his growing embarrassment as irritation.

"...Shut up."

He muttered as he tried to concentrate on the game, but his fingers were starting to slip on the controller.

He was getting more and more flustered as you continued to praise him, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of annoyance and affection towards you. He knew he should pretend like he didn't care, but deep down he was loving every second of this.

"I love it when you act like you don't care if I'm upset or disappointed... but you still do little acts to cheer me up..." you giggled at the thought.

Tomura's heart thumped wildly in his chest at your words. He loved and hated the fact that you knew him so well. He tried to act like your praise meant nothing to him, but it was clear that it was affecting him greatly.

He tried to keep his focus on the game, but his fingers were now trembling slightly, and he was having a hard time controlling his character.

He grumbled under his breath, blushing even harder now.

'..Don't make me sound soft."

"Oh-!..I also love how cute you look while sleeping...when you pull me in to be closer...your face resting in between my chest."

You laughed as you continued rubbing on his cheeks looking down at his focused eyes on the game.

His face felt like it was on fire. No one had ever seen him like this before, and he was starting to feel overwhelmed.

He was struggling to retain his usual calm composure as you described how he acted when he was vulnerable, and it was making it all the harder to concentrate on the game.

He grumbled again, his voice betraying a hint of embarrassment.

'..Knock it off. I'm trying to play a damn game here."

As you fell silent, he finally had the chance to regain his focus. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He was slowly starting to regain control of the game, but he couldn't completely ignore your presence next to him.

He could still feel your eyes on him, and he knew you were probably still smiling.

It was both annoying and endearing, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it.

He continued playing, but he was more aware of you than he was of the game itself.

"I love you.." you whispered softly as you watched him play

Tomura's fingers froze on the controller at your words. He wasn't used to hearing those words, and it always caught him off guard. He grumbled under his breath, feeling his cheeks heating up again.

He tried to act unfazed and continued playing the game, but his heart was racing.

He wanted to say the same, but the words just wouldn't come out. He was too embarrassed and too stubborn to admit it out loud. Instead, he just grumbled under his breath again and focused on the game, silently hoping you knew how he felt.

He continued playing the game, his mind preoccupied with your words. Your confession had left him feeling a mix of emotions, and he was having a hard time processing it all.

He kept his eyes fixated on the screen, but he was no longer really focused on the game. Instead, he was more aware of your presence next to him, the feel of your hands on his cheeks, and the sound of your voice.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice his character dying on the screen until it was too late.

"God damn it..." he cursed as the game over screen appeared. He grumbled under his breath and tossed the controller aside in annoyance, turning his attention back to you.

He looked up at you, his expression a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.

You leaned down and nuzzled your nose with his,

"it's okay..." you whispered before pressing your lips against his to calm his frustrations

Tomura's heart nearly skipped a beat as your nose nuzzled against his. He was about to say something snarky, but your quick action shut him up instantly.

He froze for a moment, his mind going blank as he felt the softness of your lips against his. The shock of it all caught him off guard, and he couldn't even react at first.

He was still in a daze from your unexpected kiss, but he instinctively leaned into your touch as you played with his hair. The soothing feeling of your fingers against his scalp was calming, and he found himself relaxing against your thighs.

He closed his eyes, a subtle hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He tried to stay grumpy and act like this didn't affect him, but deep down, he was secretly loving every minute of it.

He lay there, letting you play with his hair and enjoying the feeling of your fingers caressing his scalp. He was tempted to say something snarky, but he didn't want to ruin the moment.

Instead, he just lay there in silence, his heart racing and his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he was annoyed at how easily you had disarmed him. On the other hand, he was grateful for the comfort and attention you were giving him.

"I love you..." you repeated your words,

Tomura's eyes opened at the sound of your voice, his heart skipping a beat as you repeated those three words. He hated how hearing those words from you made him feel so vulnerable, but at the same time, he couldn't deny that he loved it.

He grumbled under his breath, but this time, his usual bite wasn't there.

"...! love you too..." he muttered quietly, his voice barely audible.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

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.

[thezeninclan]

kissing tomura shigaraki | part of my kisses series

there was something in his kiss that had you immediately doubting he had ever kissed, or been kissed, before. he was hesitant, as though silently asking permission from you. as though he hadn’t been the one to suddenly surge up and press his lips to yours in a lightning fast motion that had you relieved to never have faced him in battle. the touch was firm and unyielding— but for as strong as it was, it was just as unsure, mimicked by the way his hands lay at his sides, balled into fists, as though he wasn’t quite sure if he had permission to lay them upon your hips, your back, your shoulders— any part of you really, for he was leaning forward as though afraid to touch you with anything other than lips.

you made a soft utterance against his lips, and he must have mistaken it for disagreement, for tomura was halfway across the room before you could even speak, blink, breathe.

“wait!” you called out, rushing after him. you caught his strong hand in yours, careful to grip just the first four fingers you could reach, and pulled him back with all your might. even after his surgery, his emergence as leader of the paranormal liberation front, as the king of villains, he still let himself be pliable, both of you knowing that he could resist if he truly desired. tomura let you pull him back to you, let you law your hands upon his broad shoulders and tilt your head toward his. your eyes zeroed in upon his bottom lip, watching in delectation as his tongue drew across it.

“will you kiss me again?” you beckoned, and he couldn’t help but fall in love with the way your eyelashes brushed against the apples of your cheeks as you looked up at him, with the way your body pressed against his in perfect symmetry, the way your eyes contained worlds and moons and galaxies as they searches his.

“okay.” he grunted, letting you guide one of his hands to your hip and freezing, urging him to take the rest of the journey on his own volition. he crossed the space between you in a fraction of a second, pulling you flush against him, so you could feel the warmth that blossomed through his flesh at the simple touch. tomura did as he was told and kissed you again, the trepidation of his first touch evaporating in the space of a single breath.

“again.” you said when he pulled away, and his lips were on yours again, a frisson of warmth driven through you. you could feel the softness of his breath against your chin, the flutter of his heartbeat against your palm as you laid a hand upon his chest.

you whispered, “again.” before before he had even pulled away. for when his lips touched yours they contained nothing of fear, of hesitancy, instead they breathed in all the words he was wrought to say, all the words he longed and ached and pained to say to you. but you knew them already— you could feel them.

[suksatoru]

'𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅'

╰┈➤ tomura shigaraki x reader

synopsis; he sleeps better when you're closer, and you don't want to leave him alone after the lights are off <3

Tomura had a habit of slipping his hand under your shirt. It was a simple gesture he found himself to enjoy a little too much - where he'd crook a single finger over to hold the fabric of your shirt before he slides his hand across the mounds of your stomach - laying his palm flat against your tummy as he felt the soft skin underneath

He didn't know why he enjoyed it so much - maybe it was the fact that he could actually hold someone so close to him and not destroy them. It was odd - hearing you giggle and tell him how ticklish the feeling was of his cold hands dancing across your stomach

How many people has he reduced to nothing with these cursed hands? Far too many. He'd expect any regular person to jerk away from his touch - to want to be as far away as possible. Yet here you were, placing your hand over his as you kiss the mole under his lips.

"Stop that! I told you I'm ticklish there." You whisper quietly, keeping your voice low to ensure nobody around you and Tomura awoke

Everyone in the League was forced to sleep in the same room tonight due to the terribly small hideout you all had found last minute - your sleeping bag ended up near Tomura's eventually, you were just too stubborn to sleep without him near you. He groaned quietly when he saw your grinning form standing over him with a pillow in hand - but he rolled over anyways, letting you slip into place beside him.

"Shut it. You're the one who came over here anyways." He mumbles, slowly circling his fingers over your skin as you reach your hand forward - brushing the hair falling onto his face and covering his eyes as his gaze catches onto you

"You're so weird." He mutters, before enclosing his arms around you and forcing your head into his shoulder as you muffle out a laugh - he tries to hold you there so you can't see the blush spreading across his cheeks from your previous gesture, locking his legs around you as you thrash against him

"Let go you freak!"

He tightens his hold, biting down gently on your shoulder and only further proving your point

He can't help but let that familiar slanted smile of his slip when you pout, rubbing the spot he bit with a quiet whine

"Freak." You mutter again, letting out a yawn as you lay your head against his shoulder - playing with the hem of Tomura's thin t-shirt as he watches you quietly

He sees the way you so freely lean into him - embracing all he had to offer with a tenderness he'd never experienced before. He almost wanted to kick you off - tell you to get away from him because you were being so naive and cuddling up against a monster. But a part of him has troubling believing he truly was a monster when you touch him so softly.

"Something wrong?" You whisper, delicate brows pulled together in concern as you gently tap his nose - he swats your hand away with a grunt before wrapping his arms around you again - this time, he makes sure to let his chin rest atop your head

"No."

The way he says it lets you know he has more to say - and you wait patiently, smiling against his skin as he finally lets out an annoyed sigh

"Why do you only sleep with me sometimes? Why not all the time? It's not fair. You're such a prick." He mutters, avoiding your gaze as you smile softly - gently poking his chest

"You're the one who says it's my fault you get no sleep when I- "

"But I like it that way!" He groans, growing frustrated as you sigh thoughtfully - tapping your chin with a hum as he furrows his brows

"I suppose I'll start sleeping with you every night. Only because you're whining like a baby."

He glares - but the look on his face resembles more of a pout than the threatening demeanor he was aiming for, and you laugh quietly

"Don't call me that."

"Mhm. Baby."

His face flushes when he hears your teasing tone - and you adore the absolutely priceless look in his eyes

"Go to sleep." You emphasize, nuzzling yourself back into the space between his neck and shoulder as he slowly wraps his arms around you - his body was tense as he muttered a quiet goodnight.

His hands carefully find the familiar bottom of your shirt - and he gently lifts the edge, sliding his hand up and over your stomach and never further as you drift off to sleep.