#Tomura x you

[justanotherfangirlwup]

Well, he tried.

[ghostcore3]

shigaraki playing dress to impress and arguing with 11 year olds

[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

[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.

[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.

[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

[sanospet]

✩ MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IM YOURS AGAIN ✩

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - 𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘎𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘒𝘐 𝘛𝘖𝘔𝘜𝘙𝘈 𝘟 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙

𝘲𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦 : gummy walls tightening around the thick of his shaft, tomura's brows knitting together as the coil nestling at the pit of his stomach slowly came undone, hips staggering, painting your warmth with his pearly seed, inscribing the story of your shared love on your walls like a parietal painting.

warnings and notes!

18+ . mdni . smut . angst . hurt comfort . quirkless au . fluffy ending . after care . detailed descriptions of SA . mentions of a knife . reader held at knifepoint . reader has a breakdown . heavy suggestions of reader struggling with SH . detailed fight scene (tomura beats someone’s ass) . deeply insecure reader . they’re both just trying to navigate their way through complex emotions . a whole lot of guilt and self-blaming . soft dom tomura . passionate sex . codependency . requited clinginess . praise praise praise . tomura just being a sweetheart, honestly . pet names (“baby”, “my love”, “princess”) . gender neutral reader . afab reader . reader’s sex is mentioned . proofread though there still may be some spelling mistakes, enjoy <33

authors note:

this fic is super self indulgent, i am the reader, the reader is, indeed, me, lol. it took me much longer than usual to complete, and in turn it is probably one of my longest fics yet, lol. but im happy with how it turned out, i literally daydreamed (basically me writing/directing a movie in my brain, im not sure if that’s the right term…but i do it quite frequently) this fic for like 6 hours straight from start to finish the other day and it kept replaying in my mind like a movie ever since. i needed to get it out and written down, and i wanted to do it justice, so here it is. i hope you enjoy it, and i hope i explained the complexity of their emotions and the turmoil they faced well. thanks for reading <33

(+1000 aura points to you if you caught my shrek reference)

- linus

"you can't be serious..." the question was drawled as tomura gave your outfit a once over, a slight quirk in his brow, earning a pout in response.

"what's wrong with it ?" you whined, feet shifting beneath you as you twirled, "isn't it cute ?" a sweet smile dawning your glossy lips.

tomura's eyes softened, "it is," he confirmed, "very very cute, too cute, even," gaze resting on your upper thighs, raking over the length of them in the reflection before shifting to where your skirt cut off at the back, just beneath the curve of your ass.

sighing softly with a troubled expression, "look, i wouldn't mind you wearing this if i were coming along with you, but you're seriously thinking of going out in that all alone ? to a party, no less...you'll be getting all sorts of unwanted attention from the weirdos plaguing that place."

your hands fiddled with the silver chain, attempting to clasp it behind your neck as you spoke, "tomura, in all my years of living, you're the only guy that's given me the time of day, let alone a double-take," the reality of it set a pang in your chest as you let out a soft, awkward laugh, "i'll be nothing but a fly on the wall at this party, i highly doubt anyone will try anything."

soft snowy locks swaying with a shake of his head, tomura rose from his perch on the armchair, gently shifting your hair to your front, hands replacing your own, "well you'll do it for my peace of mind, won't you ?" gaze meeting yours in the reflection, hand smoothing over the skin of your back, "if you pick out the perfect piece, i suppose." a small smirk rested on your features, tomura reading the playful glint in your eyes.

tomura sifted through the hangers, pulling out a long, brown, flowy skirt, "it's a party, tomura, not a church." shaking his head at your remark, "no, no, look," he took place behind you, laying the fabric against you, "pretty, no ?" eyes shifting from the skirt to your unimpressed ones in the reflection, "tomura..." cutting you off with an exasperated tutt, "fine, fine."

returning to his previous endeavour, "it's like you dress for the summer all year round," he mentioned, flicking through the plethora of mini skirts and dresses before him "fashion knows no weather." you replied, earning a laugh in response.

pulling out a pair of flare jeans, with hope filled eyes, "what about these ?" you shrugged, "it's a skirt kind of day" amused by your reply , "only you would come up with something like that, god, you're impossible."

"oh," you chirped, kneeling down "how about i wear some tights instead ? compromise ?" he hummed as you pulled open the drawer, "let's see them first," sifting through the load, you landed on two that would match your colour scheme, "yeah, well fishnets wont exactly help your cause," he remarked, "don't you have any of those normal ones ?" fingers combing through his locks as he watched.

"and threaten to ruin my ensemble ?" gasping, "not a chance." holding up both pairs as the man observed "pick your poison, tomura~" you joked a slight melody stringing the words together as tomura rolled his eyes, "these will do," seizing the fabric from your grip, he knelt on one knee as you rose, pulling the lace over your legs before taking place behind you, arms wrapped around your waist.

"i can change if you really want me to..." offering a faltering smile, guilt crept in for pushing back so hard, but tomura insisted, "i can take on anyone who dares touching you," setting a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder, "and i don't think i ever really want to go through your closet again, anyway," and you giggle at that.

"you remember the rules, yeah ?" he asks, earning an eager nod in return, "recite them."

"don't get too drunk," you held up a finger, "don't accept drinks from anyone, and guard my own," adding another finger, "keep my location on at all times, text you throughout the night and..." you grew quiet, "don't wander off too far from your friends" he piped in and you nodded, "but what if they're like…making out with someone ?" you questioned, "watch them." he shrugged, "ew, pervert." tutting, softly nudging your elbow into him and he laughed.

the air felt cold and void when he broke your embrace, the clock's incessant ticking toward your departure doing nothing to aid your growing anxiety about your separation with tomura for the night.

"are you sure you can't come with me ?" voice pleading as you trailed close behind him to the kitchen, "i wasn't invited, love." he swallowed thickly as the words left his cracked lips.

he wanted nothing more than to accompany you, the thought of being parted for so long having glass shards set in his stomach, tearing him to shreds from the inside out. yet he pushed for your lonesome attendance, with the thought of you spending time and having a ball with the friends you adored so.

"im sure they'll let you in regardless," brows upturned, eyes soon to be wet with tears, "besides, i don't think security will be that tight, anyway..." placing an opened bottle of ukon no chikara in your hand, he lifted it to your lips, tipping it as you swallowed.

"you know i'm just a phone call way, baby," he smiled, "and i can come and pick you up at anytime.”

placing the small, empty bottle on the counter, "well you don't have to stay up if you're not coming along," you couldn't help the pout that formed, saturating your murmured words, "i could catch a ride with my friend or something."

raising your gaze with a hooked finger beneath your chin, "you know i can't fall sleep without you, love, and i'm pretty sure i need to be awake to answer your messages," thumb shifting to gently stroke your cheek, "and i love your friends, truly, i do, but there's no way i'm letting them drive you home when they're drunk."

"i could get a taxi..." his brows furrowed at that, "and im sure they'd be just as bad as the creeps at the party, love."

nodding at the words, shifting to the balls of your feet, noses brushing together with a smile, your lips meeting in a gentle touch. his hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer as he deepened it, tongue pushing past your lips, the subtle taste of your cherry flavoured lipgloss accompanying it.

"i'll miss you," parting, your breath fanning against his lips as you spoke, "i'll miss you too," he smiled softly.

"do you have everything you need ?" you hummed, moving to grab your small bag from the counter, handing it to him to look over, "and do you really need three lip products ?" he questioned through a breathy laugh as you plucked the lip gloss from his grasp, using the aid of your compact mirror to reapply it. "lip shades are like mood rings, tomura, they change with my emotions."

phone screen lighting up with a message, "she's here already ?" he questioned, failing to suppress the disappointment in his tone, earning a nod as he placed the device in your bag, following you to the front door as you slipped on your shoes.

turning to him, "how do i look ?" clammy hands smoothing over the fabric of your skirt, he neared you, tucking your hair behind your ear, "perfect," he smiled, eyes raking over your appearance, "absolutely perfect."

                               ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

the music seemed to permeate through your eardrums, rattling in your head and you could feel the thumping of the bass in your chest as it played, the alcohol mellowing it out just enough for it to be enjoyable. your body felt loose as you  swayed to the melodies, singing along amongst the crowd of perspiring bodies.

your friends had split as the party drew on, dotting around the oversized living area, hidden in corners and splayed on the leather couches at the centre of it all, preoccupied with their newfound love interests for the night, though you lingered near them.

as your buzz began to subside and the itch for another drink began to set in, your head spun, eyes scanning for a friend of yours to accompany you to fetch one, ruling out the few who had made their way to the second floor in hopes of finding an empty room, dwindling the group to just two, both who seemed to still be busy with the acts of exploring their dates bodies, your defeated sigh was unheard over the music as your feet shifted toward the kitchen.

the ceiling was just as tall as the ones you'd seen prior, the room almost soundproof as you closed the door behind you, warm lighting illuminating the dark oak of the cabinets and the hefty island that stood tall in the middle of it, housing a mix of opened half drunken bottles, crushed solo cups and beer cans as well as your bag.

the bright blue cooler almost shone in contrast, juxtaposed by the mahogany in which it rested upon and you reached in for another cider, before aiming to head out.

bumping harshly into the chest of another, you stumbled back, feeling a tight grip on your wrist and the deep, slightly slurry voice that followed "my bad, are you alright ?" speech failing you, an eager nod was all you could manage, your gaze searing into his tight grip.

finger hooking under your chin, a large smirk growing as he gave you a once over, "well, what's a pretty little thing like you doing all alone at a party like this, hm ?" words laced in excitement, "your friends ditch you or something ? did you lose your way ?"

breath hitching, his touch soldering, blazing your skin, your mind fell numb, heart rate only rising as you attempted to voice back, "i..." the lump forming in your throat swallowed your sound, "i came to get a drink," you pushed, voice low, his gaze moving to the cider in your hand, as you pulled your confined wrist from his grip, "excuse me." head hung, you took a step to leave, the searing cuffs of his calloused hands forming its assault once more on your upper arm, grip bruising.

"oh, c'mon, don't deny a guy so harshly," tone grating, whining almost "we can have some fun of our own." his voice deepened, slowly twisting your arm in his grasp, forcing you to meet him once more as you turned, the only solution to stop the growing discomfort and pain blossoming as you suppressed a cry, the can falling to the ground at the harsh tug.

"l-let me go!" yanking your arm toward you in order to free yourself, he only followed, chest slamming against yours, "eager, aren't we ?" he smirked.

stomach churning, the taste of copper sat heavy on your tongue as he placed a hand on your hip, his grip all but crushing. pushing your lower back against the island, his head dipping into the curve of your neck, "stop!" the attempted yell was more of a chirp, "i have a boyfriend!"

riled and raged, the man pulled back with an irritated sigh, lazily glancing around the empty space, "i don't see him," mocking bitterly.

the words set the fiery pit in your stomach ablaze as you continued "he's on his way," you convinced, "just a few minutes until he arrives."

"well i guess that earns us a few minutes to get this over with," you continued your aggressive attempt to break free, soon stilling as the sensation of a cold and sharp object made its presence pushed up against your exposed stomach, "wouldn't you agree ?" lips grazing against your ear as he spoke, laughing softly, pulling back at your silence with a smile, "god, you're so much hotter once you shut the fuck up." he sighed, eyes raking over your face, observing.

your breathing shallowed, almost diminishing completely as your face paled, his lips moving lazily against the soft flesh of your neck. animalistic groans almost reverberating on your smooth skin, teeth grazing harshly as he nibbled, his eyes shut tight. fingers inching up your thighs, crawling beneath your skirt, goosebumps rising in the trail of his vulgar touch.

the growing pit of repulsion and guilt in your stomach threatened to force up the drinks you'd had, and as your eyes glazed over, thoughts of tomura flooding your brain, the sensation of a sprouting rose deep in your heart followed, its unforgiving thorns shredding the pumping organ in its wake.

"s-stop..." you forced through a shaky breath, "please...you don't have to do this," pleading, he continued on, teeth grazing against you harshly, earning a pained whimper, "t-there are so many people here, there's gotta be someone who would jump at the chance to sleep with you tonight..." meeting you once more, eyes lidded, filled with need, the sight sending jagged shards of terror down your straightened spine, "you think ?" you nodded eagerly, "cute, but, the thing is i want to sleep with you tonight, so they're a little out of luck, aren't they ?" smirking, words filled with mockery and snark, as he looked toward the clock, "seems like your boyfriend is running a little late," tracing the flat edge of the cold weapon against the dip of your waist, "let's make the most of it, shall we ?" he whispered.

palms turning white, he gripped the glazed wooden slab tight with one hand as he rocked his hips into yours at a vigorous yet sloppy pace, the edged surface of the island bruising your lower back, his breath fanning against your ear as soft moans escaped his parted lips, head hung low.

"alastair, you in here ?" door swinging open, tufts of golden hair and amber eyes coming into view, "oh—" cutting his words short at the sight before him, analysing your position with a studied gaze, the man before you, alastair, shielding the weapon from the golden man's sight as he raised his head, "uh, we're about to play beer pong, wanna join ?" the two pairs of eyes now trained on you, "if you're not already busy, that is."

alastair hummed, face inching closer to yours, lips grazing your cheek as you turned away, "i'll be right there." sighing, turning your gaze toward him once more with a harsh grip on your chin, "next time, sweetheart ?" he willed, pushing off the counter as he pocketed the blade with a grin, setting a few taps to your cheek "next time." he replied to himself, turning to join his friend as he stumbled through the tall door.

your body remained stagnant in his wake for a while, unmoving as the cold air rushing in through the opened window coated your skin. willing yourself to move, to run, to scream, to vomit to do anything but let that scene replay in your mind for the nth time, or to think about tomura...both only causing a putrid cocktail of rage, guilt and disgust with yourself to build in your veins.

the reflection of the bathroom mirror met you after suffering the treacherous trail of making your way through the drunken, sex filled halls of the winding home you were seemingly trapped within.

a gut wrenching scream was kept locked in the back of your throat as your hands moved, vigorously rubbing and scratching against your neck and shoulders, soap and water trailing down your skin, soaking your clothing as tears crept down your face, falling into your teeth gritted mouth, breathing ragged and irregular as you worked with such force, hyperventilating.

shaky hands steadied with a firm grip on the sink, vision cloudy, tears falling with a blink, your reflection soon came back into focus. skin rubbed raw, rosy, irritated, makeup smeared, eyes wet and red, a chesty cry ripping through your throat at the sight.

you were disgusting, defiled, tainted, no amount of scrubbing and scouring could reverse the damage that had been inflicted upon you.

bag illuminating as your phone shone bright, a message coming into view as you peaked in.

tomura.

culpability gnawed at you from the inside, crawling up and into your lungs with its jagged claws, piercing gaping holes through your chest, guilt and remorse nestling in the pit of your stomach, the scorching craving for agony and torment setting in.

you deserved it, after all.

you betrayed him, had been disloyal to the overwhelming love you shared, and hadn't done enough to stop it all.

'i could've fucking tried harder' the thought was deafening, echoing in your brain and you could almost hear it, 'should've taken my chances of being stabbed than just standing there like a fucking statue and letting him have his way with me…’

heart clouded, encompassed by the grim emotions, compressed by the pressure of it all, you let out a jagged sigh, shaking your head as if to rid yourself of thoughts completely. collecting yourself to the best of your abilities, you tapped lightly at your makeup with your powder brush, intending to save it to no avail, mascara having left streaky trails, moving onto your messy hair with a tut before smoothing out your clothing and making your way downstairs.

"hey," your friend mouthed from across the main room, waving you over as you pushed past the crowd, "we're thinking about calling it a night and..." bright smile faltering, concern dawning as she took in your appearance under the dim lighting, "have you been crying ? are you okay ? what's wrong ?" hand moving to rest gently on your arm, the pad of her thumb offering strokes, "im alright," your hoarse voice pushed, "do you want me to drive you home ?" she whispered, almost worried as if her volume would shatter you completely, "i, um," you bit back, fearful that the utterance of his name aloud would set your throat ablaze, "t-tomura's c-coming to um, pick me up..." wincing at the words.

"alright, but um, i'm here if you need to talk, you know that, right ?" she spoke softly, brows upturned, eyes overflowing with worry, and you forced a smile, "i know," nodding, "thank you."

arms interlocked with hers, you finally escaped the, now seemingly claustrophobic, confines of the oversized home. offering your friend a farewell, waving to the others, you slowly made your way to tomura's parked car, his shadowy figure leaning against it.

the soles of your shoes scraping against the asphalt as you dragged your feet to continue your trek closer to him, the intense loathing, you'd been all but consumed by, threatening to take over as he waited with outstretched arms, a warm smile dawning his face.

falling into him, your body relaxing upon contact, a shuddery breath escaped your lips as the comforting scent of his cologne filled your head, arms wrapping around him despite the turmoil in your brain.

"you missed me that much, yeah ?" he let out a gentle laugh, your eyes falling shut as the melody vibrated through his chest, slightly straining as they filled with tears once more at the sound of him, despair twisting your stomach in a harsh pinch.

"_____?" words dripping in concern as he hooked a finger beneath your chin, chest tightening at the sight of you. eye whites more of a crimson shade, veiny and dried out, your neck looking more like his own, hair tousled and unkept, clothes home patches of water as it stuck to your skin, the makeup you'd perfected now streaky with canals of dried tears.

letting out a manually steadied breath, he aimed to suppress his swiftly accelerating anger in a soft veil, "what happened ?" tomura's undivided attention had your face wet once more, rivers pouring from your eyes, hiccuping as you could barely form words, apologies spilling from your lips as he guided you into the car, hoping for more privacy and peace as you explained.

"it's all my fault," you pushed as your breathing steadied once more, "i shouldn't have..." shaking your head as tears continued, voice breaking, "i-i should've have l-let him..." the car fell silent, save for the unsteady puffs of air falling from your lips. tomura's jaw clenching at the mention of another, he knew where this was going and a sloppy cocktail of guilt, fiery fury and rage coursed through him.

tomura gently urging you to continue, you obliged, albeit through choked sobs and hiccups, hands interlaced, his thumb stroking over the back of yours, aiming to give you some sort of solace as you struggled, despite the ire festering within him. breath hitching, he swallowed thickly at the mention of the weapon you were held up toward, eyes frantically flying over your being, hands moving to inspect for any injuries, "i wasn't cut or anything," you explained, "he just h-held it up to me and i was scared so i..." the words stopped at the back of your throat, the confession stinging your throat,"um, i...i stopped fighting" gaze falling beyond the window, looking at tomura only causing an eruption of pain within you, "...im so sorry."

letting out a serrated exhale, "do you remember what he looks like ?" earning a slow nod in response, gaze lifting toward the house as alastair's infamous figure came into view. "are you going to h-hurt him ?" you questioned through sniffled gasps of air, tomura following the object of your glare, eyes landing on the tall man, "he'll be lucky if i don't fucking kill him." he breathed, turning to you, "stay in the car."

tomura's gait was that of a soldier, marching toward the man without a word, a heavy mist of enmity encompassing his being, trailing after him as his boots scraped harshly against the asphalt, echoing amongst the chatty drunken party-goers during his trek. slowly garnering attention from them as he shrugged off his jacket, before he raised a tight fist, slamming it down onto alastair's face with vigor, the man almost kissing the ground as tomura pulled his fist away, ready for another blow.

"what the fuck ?!" alastair slurred, mind spinning, the stench of alcohol coming off him in wafts as the weighty sole of tomura's boot crashed into his nose, before retracting and slamming into the man's ribs. falling to his knees, alastair trapped between them, tomura's world fell silent.

tomura wanted to break the man before him, tear his limbs from his body with his teeth and leave him strung up to be eaten by wild animals, to burn him alive and savour his tormented shrieks. tomura wanted to disintegrate him, dust him by a single touch, into nothing but a pathetic pile of grim ashes, to have him slip away between his fingers, to be forgotten, to drift away in the wind.

tomura's punches were mechanic, automatic, rhythmic as he moved, dealing continuous blows of the same force, and the packed crowd that had formed around him were hushed, gawking, the only sound echoing through the night being that of dull hits and cracking bones.

"....im tomura!"

his unforgiving assault continued, heart pumping liquid ivy, adrenaline coursing through his veins like a drug, eyes glazed over, void of light, face expressionless as your screams slowly permeated his trance.

"you're gonna kill him, tomura!" pleading, eyes bloodshot, slightly hesitating to touch him,"that's enough...please..." reaching for his raised fist, shaky hands enclosing around them, "let's go home..."

the cacophony of overlapping sirens sliced through the air like bullets as the crowd clamoured, scattering like flies, yet your stagnant positions remained. tomura's gaze raking over your tired eyes and puffy face, heart clenching. hands tightly woven together, you rose as a duet, crisp air lacing over his bloodied knuckles, nipping at your tear stained cheeks as you made your way to his car once more, settling into the warmed seats.

tomura was the first to break the otherwise wordless journey home, "he could've killed you." the statement was harsh, piercing, "i wouldn't know what to do if you were to die," focused on the road, tomura's grip tightened on the steering wheel as he let out an uncomfortable laugh, "i mean, i can barely sleep without you, let alone live without you..." trailing off, "...i think i'd be better off joining you.”

the sentiment was not lost on you, you knew he meant it, deeply at that, yet it pained you to no end. his words feeling like an open wound exposed to the elements, heart continuing to bleed for you in the wake of your betrayal.

you'd never experienced such life altering love in all your years, something so dizzying, intoxicating and intense, something so real and raw and beautiful, something you could almost...touch, something you didn't deserve.

tomura was the best thing that had ever happened to you, by far and...he now sat beside you solemn, hands bloodied and bruised, heart torn, trust broken, betrayed and trampled upon by the one he treasured most in this parasitic world.

clothing rustling against the leather seat as you shifted uncomfortably, "why didn't you call me ?" he questioned through a small sigh, tired words laced with defeat, disappointment. "...i wasn't in my right mind," you spoke, voice hoarse, eyes trained on your fingers placed in your lap, fiddling with a loosened thread of your skirt. "i was in a daze and i was frantic and i went to...wash him off of me in the bathroom right after and," speech pace speeding as you explained, "i was so fucking overwhelmed by everything and that's when i got your message and by the time i went downstairs you were already there and...now we're here..." exhaling softly through a shaky breath, "and i'm so sorry..."

the soft blow of the car heating was all you could hear, as tomura's mind spiralled, fingers reaching for his deck, putting the cigarette to his lips, lighting it. "you broke our agreement." it was a statement more than anything, just a voicing of his conflicting thoughts, expressed through a sigh after a long drag, yet you replied, "i know…im sorry”

                              ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

knees buried in the soft carpeted floor, you tipped the rubbing alcohol onto the cotton, gently pushing it up against tomura's knuckles as you finished cleaning him up, barely earning a hiss from the man. eyes searching your face from his position above, observing the wrinkles in your forehead due to your furrowed brows, "what's on your mind, love ?"

stilling your movements, gaze lifting to meet his, white hair falling forward as he looked down at you, almost curtaining the rubies held within his eyes. words clogging, gulping harshly, breaking the stare for a moment before locking it in again, with the help of his hooked finger beneath your chin, a shaky breath escaping your parted lips, "c'mon, what's up ?"

"hurt me...p-please" begging, glassy eyed, voice breaking. tomura's tone remained calm at your pleads, almost as if he were expecting such a request, "why would you want me to do that ?"

eyes straining once more as tears threatened to well, speech quickening, "i...i betrayed you and i broke your trust and i let that guy touch me and i could've done more to stop it and i could've fought harder and i didn't tell you right after and—" vision clouding your eyelashes failed you as tears began to trail down your face again, chest rising and falling faster as you spoke, eyes darting around the place, "i— your pretty hands are scarred now because of me and...and...i deserve it."

nodding firmly at your own words, finally raising your gaze to meet his own, pleading, "please, take your frustrations out on me...it would make you feel better." eyes squinting, "it would make you feel better." he corrected, "it would." you confirmed.

rising from his perch on the sofa, extending a hand out to you, leading you to your joint chambers, tomura's lips met yours in a gentle embrace and as he moved to deepen it, you pulled away, eyes wide "w-what are you doing ?" confusion knitting your brows together.

"i forgive you," he stated firmly, "i think your guilt is punishment enough," tucking your loose hairs behind your ears, shifting your tendrils from your face, his hand rested on your cheek, thumbing it softly, "this...all of it, it wasn't your fault, you had no choice," he spoke, tone assertive yet tender, "you just need to forgive yourself now, yeah ? it's gonna be okay," setting a soft kiss on your lips, resting his forehead to yours "we're okay, we're together again like always, yeah ? just you and me, it'll be okay." the words were whispered, like a secret only to be shared between the two of you, something special to treasure as a pair.

leaning into him, crashing your lips together once more, you couldn't help the tears that fell, hoping to seal the taste of him in your soul, meld into him completely as his hand found the small of your back, pulling you in closer as he breathed you.

pulling away, "is this truly what you want right now?" he questioned, searching your face for any signs of discomfort, coming up empty as you nodded eagerly, whispering, pleading, begging, "make me feel like im yours again, tomura."

hovering over your nude laying form on the cushioned bed, clothes collectively discarded on the hardwood, safe for your undergarments, his lips met your cheek, trailing down your jaw slowly, slowly before meeting your neck. pushing his pillowy lips against your sensitive skin, mellow actions growing eager gradually as he continued, teeth softly grazing your skin as he sucked, making a mark, branding you as his own.

shame shrouded tomura's being, hanging heavy like a thunderous cloud, striking him in his core. his culpability was discernible in his mind, his constant turn-downs of your unofficial invitation gnawing at his insides. his presence all that would've been needed to prevent such a situation from taking place, to prevent such trauma, such pain, yet he withdrew the opportunity, and it haunted him like a vengeful ghost.

soft mewls fell from you as he worked, the nausea you'd associated with the actions earlier that night being reborn anew at the touch of your lover. hands gripping his arm, hips rutting, as he toyed with your most sensitive part through the fabric of your underwear.

finger hooking into the band, hand slipping underneath, finally making contact, a gasp falling from your lips at the act, tomura continued, sharp intakes of breath soon switching to a whines as he did so. drawing circles on your blossoming core, pulling away, he admired the flowery imprints he’d created on your neck as they deepened in shade.

lips meeting yours once more, finally slipping a digit into your warmth, taking the opportunity of your opened mouth to slip his tongue in as you moaned, slowly pumping you before doubling the dosage. lacing your hands into his hair, brows furrowing as tomura swallowed your tunes, meeting you with his own, kiss growing desperate as your hand found his clothed cock, slipping beneath the fabric, intending to alleviate the tension as you stroked, earning shaky groans from the man.

parting to hurriedly free yourselves from the threaded pieces of fabric, you met again, lips interlocked, his thumb pressed to the length of his cock, leisurely dragging it between your folds, as he rutted against you.

the strain was native as tomura slowly buried the head of his cock into your core, yet you couldn't help the need to paw at his shoulders, face contorting at the width and he gripped your wrist, "you can take it, princess," whispering, lips grazing yours as he spoke, inching deeper, soon bottoming out, "there we go."

stilling as you adjusted, tomura's mind itched for friction yet he remained stagnant as your lips crashed with fervour, treasuring the complete feeling of being slotted together once more, like missing pieces of a jigsaw, your core carved, his cock sculpted to couple.

his motions were slow at first, tender, pulling out at a grating pace before filling you once more, your hips moving to meet his, yet they harshened as he continued, pelvis soon snapping into yours, coarse strokes pummelling against that gentle pocket of nerves deep within you, leaving you in a choked daze. bodies rocking in tune with the bed springs, tomura's head buried in the crook of your neck, groans slipping into your ears, aiding the tightening knot nestling in your core as his thumb drew circles between your folds.

raising his head to meet your gaze, flushed cheeked and glossy lipped, heavy lidded eyes harbouring a fountain of lust, and you were enraptured by the view, his cologne almost permeating off him at the short proximity, intoxicatingly so.

mind dizzying as he observed your features, wanting to savour the expressions he pulled from you, clenching around him unwillingly at the sight, eyes squeezing shut in shame as your cheeks rosed, a smirk dawning his face in return, "you're taking me so well, baby." his voice raspy, a whine slipping from your lips, "such a good girl for me, aren't you ?" nodding eagerly at the question, "anything for you, master." through whimpers, and tomura smiled at the words, knowing you met it, all too deeply.

panting softly, the knot in your stomach tightening harshly as you squeezed around tomura once more, "can i—" cut off by a moan, hands fisting the fabric of the sheets, "cum on my cock, princess." back arching off the bed at the vulgar words with a mewl, tomura slipped his hand beneath, holding you, pumping you through your bliss, relishing in the way your muscles tensed, the way your eyes fell shut and the lazy open mouthed smile that rested on your lips.

"t-thank you," you pushed through a whine as the sensitivity set in, tomura's actions persisting as he chased his own high, pace becoming languid and jagged as it neared. hand flying to grip his wrist as he began to pull out, "w-wait..." pleading, "c-can you uh...inside..." cheeks burning as you spoke, voice timid, quiet.

tomura's brow quirking at the request, his silence only making you feel the need to explain further, "t-the love bites aren't enough..." you pushed, "i...i want to feel you from the inside..." eyes searching his face as you trailed off, a smile forming on his lips as he obliged, settling back in with the gentle words, "anything for you, my love." you smiled shyly in turn, knowing he meant it, all too deeply.

gummy walls tightening around the thick of his shaft, tomura's brows knitting together as the coil nestling at the pit of his stomach slowly came undone, hips staggering, painting your warmth with his pearly seed inscribing the story of your shared love on your walls like a parietal painting.

                              ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

the rushing water pooled at your feet, head tipped back as tomura's sudsy digits massaged your scalp gently, eyes falling shut as he moved the shower head over the length of hour hair, keeping the soap from trailing down your face before raking conditioner through your locks with tender care, repeating.

your fingers moved through snowy locks as tomura reached for the shampoo bottle, taking a whiff, "it smells so…sweet," he commented, "one of the reasons i like it so much," you shrugged, "is it any good ?" he questioned, "you'll see for yourself when we're done," humming, he sniffed it once more, "i like it" slight confusion lacing your brows, "how so ? you haven't even seen the results yet," earning a shrug, "it smells like you," the words forming a sweet ball of golden light to glow within your chest, a smile dawning your face, "besides, your hair is always super soft anyway."

dried and clothed, tomura fingers combed through his hair in the reflection, "woah…" he spoke, "see ? this is why i keep telling you to quit buying the cheap stuff," gently poking a finger into his arm with a smile, he shrugged, "eh, it gets the job done but this...this is some fancy shit." laughing at his choice of wording, "yeah, sure it is, tomura." sarcasm laced within the words, earning a playful squinted glare in the reflection from the other. 

"do you wanna do a face mask with me ?" holding up a small pot in one hand and an sealed packet in the other as tomura splashed water on his soapy features, patting his clean face dry as you continued, "a clay mask is drying and would probably irritate the areas around your lips and eyes but i think a sheet mask should be okay."

"and if it does irritate my skin ?" you squint, pointing as you talk, "it’s moisturising, so i have high hopes that it won't..." smiling as you trailed off, he shrugged, "sure then, go ahead."

perched at the edge of the bathtub, you took place between his knees, his hands placed on the backs of your thighs as you laid the serum doused sheet on his features, tugging it into place. entranced by your focus, tomura's heart swelling as his eyes raked over the soft lines of your face, the wet tendrils sticking to your forehead, the gentle curl of your pretty lashes and the plump lips he so dearly wanted to kiss again, "there we go." you piped, breaking tomura's daze, his eyes shifting to the mirror, "i look terrifying," he laughed, "you don't," you retort, "and don't laugh, you'll shift the placement of the mask," shrugging, arms held in surrender "whatever you say."

he observed intently as you swiped the clay on your face, "now we both look terrifying," you laughed, earning a tut, "no, you, you look cute." giggling at the words, "well, you think i look cute in anything." shrugging, "my point exactly."

tomura's chest warmed as you gently pressed the serum into his skin, the dried mask discarded on the counter not too long ago, fingers setting soft pats against the scarred flesh, careful not to agitate the wounds, "you haven't been scratching as much recently," you spoke, gaze dipping to his neck, reaching for the moisturiser you'd put on moments prior, gently massaging it into his skin, "the urge comes in waves sometimes," he shrugged, "still, im proud of you," a gentle smile gracing your lips as you uttered the words, tomura mirroring it, "all done!" you beamed, tomura pulling you down, setting a soft kiss to your lips, "now you're done." he corrected.

you soon found your tired bodies interlinked within fresh silk sheets, your head on tomura's chest as his fingers smoothed over your hair, the nostalgic cartoon playing in the background on the tv becoming white noise as your heavy lids fluttered shut, drifting into a hearty slumber within the safe confines of the arms of your lover.

[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.

[aizawasdumbwhore]

Skirt - Shigaraki X Reader Smut

A/N: this is HEAVILY inspired by this post here. Highly recommend you read it. It was so short I just had to write more in my own vision

Words: 841

Warnings: HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING!!! if you can't handle anything non-con related, please scroll away. Shigaraki touches the reader while she sleeps

He laid you down on to the bed in your drunken state. You were barely conscious, body limp and almost numb. Almost...

He couldn't help but take you all in, the sight of you in your slutty club dress. So tight and short. He could see right up your skirt, but it was too dark to actually notice anything. Your nipples, hard and cold, poking through the fabric. How he so badly wanted to touch and fondle them, run his thumb with a soft touch over your nipple and pinch it. His boxers got tight at just the thought of it. Oh, the things he would do to you.

You moaned in your unconscious state as you shifted your body over. Shigaraki could feel his cock twitch at the sound of it. He wanted to hear more, wanted to hear you moan for him.

He crawled onto the bed, kneeling just before your legs. They were hitched up and spread slightly. His hands caressed the outer part of your thigh. So soft and smooth. He wanted to squeeze them and feel them fill up his hand. He couldn't control himself anymore. He lifted your dress up, revealing your tight thong. He could see the fabric clinging to your cunt, giving a beautiful view of your silhouette. There was a dark, wet spot right in the middle.

He hooked his fingers in it and slid it over to reveal your beautiful sex. So wet, glossy, and pretty. His body shivered at the simple graze of his finger touching you. He left your panties pushed to the side for a bit as he admired it, staring at it. Staring at it for what seemed like a strangely long time.

After, he decided to pull them down. His thumb wrapped around the thin string on each side and slid them down your thigh. Now he could see it all. His heart was pounding in his chest as his thoughts raced. Ugh, the things he would do to you. All the things he wanted to do to you.

With a hesitant and shaky hand, he reached for you. At first, his touch was just tickling you. Barely making contact. He was much too afraid of you waking up, angry at him for what he was doing. Eventually, the fear wore off once he saw you spread your legs more and moan at the contact. He couldn't help himself.

He pressed harder, really feeling your wet pussy now, and it felt amazing. His finger slid up between your lips, collecting your wetness and glistening in the low, warm light. He wanted to just play with the outside first and cherish this moment. As he went back down, his thumb parted you this time instead. Then, he took his index finger and middle finger to part your pussy.

He laid down on his stomach and crawled forward until he was face to face with it. He couldn't believe it. You smelled so sweet.

At first, he laid a gentle kiss on your clit. Your legs twitched as you moaned, giving Shigaraki the go-ahead. His lips wrapped around it, sucking with gentleness. You tasted just as sweet too. He let out a moan of his own once he indulged in you. His tongue swiped between your folds. Up and down, up and down, before stopping. There was more he wanted to see than just that.

He straddled you, placing his two hands on your breasts. So plump and round. Your nipples seemed to have gotten harder since the stimulation. He did exactly what he thought of before. His thumb rubbed over the little bump. He wanted more.

Shigaraki slowly pulled the top of your tube dress down. The fact you weren't wearing a bra made this so much better. Right in front of him were your completely bare breasts. His hands cupped and squeezed them. They perfectly filled his hands. His fingers pinched your nipple, rubbing it between his fingers.

He leaned down, taking your nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled in circles as he sucked. He didn't suck too hard to disturb you though, just enough to enjoy himself. His clothed dick was rubbing against your bare cunt.

Once he was done, he pulled away and went back down on you, slipping his finger between your folds and entering you. You were so tight and warm, he yearned to feel you around his member, clenching and massaging it within your walls. His fingers slipped in and out as he watched, then curling his fingers. He waited for a reaction. You moaned and arched your back, still barely unconscious though. With that, he continued curling his fingers, getting lost with the idea of you.

Eventually, he had enough. He had his way with you, but didn't want to take things too far. Shigaraki readjusted your dress back to the way it was, except your panties. The next morning you woke up confused, not remembering when they got taken off but remembering the pleasurable feeling Shigaraki gave you.

[dawn-moths]

Tomura x Reader

word count: 800+

(You try and convince Tomura to take a break from his games and come to bed at a reasonable time for once.)

disclaimer/content warning: no warnings apply! sfw, soft tomura, maybe quirkless au?? i don’t really know, i just love and miss him a lot and wanna take care of him.

***

It’s late— nearly two AM— and the glow of the moon trying to creep in through the gaps of the curtains competes with the glow emanating from the trio of computer screens currently in use in the other corner of the room.

“Tomu…” you murmur, half a groan and half a whine, as you turn over beneath the covers. “Come to bed…”

It’s so warm here, your body heat seeping through the sheets, the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing— one of his shirts, the soft black cotton displaying the fading decal of some game he used to like— clinging to your drowsy form like a veil of comfort and familiarity.

If you buried your nose in the collar, it still smelled faintly like him, despite you basically having claimed it for your own a few weeks back.

From across the room, Tomura sits before his three monitor display, the soft light from the screens shifting the colors cast across his face in a fast-paced rainbow, reds and blues and greens illuminating the pale waves of his hair.

It’s almost to his shoulders again. You’ll have to convince him to let you give it a trim soon.

“Tomuraaaaaa…” you whine a little louder, drawing his attention that time as he shifts his headset so only one ear is covered.

“Ok, just one more round,” he replies, something almost apologetic in his tone, no more irked grumbling or sarcastic attitude present like he used to respond to such a request in the past.

You basically had to drag him away from the computer, once upon a time. If you didn’t, he’d be playing right up until the sun was about to rise.

You rolled over onto your other side, facing away from the glow of the screens, letting your eyes fall closed once more, the constant mashing of buttons clicking softly to fill the otherwise silent room.

Whatever game he’s decided to log into tonight, the rounds are long. After ten minutes he’s still playing, one or two curses hissed out under his breath when his character takes a hit or someone else on his team messes up.

You turn again, squinting your eyes as they adjust to the light. Once the room becomes clear, you can see just how focused Tomura is. Like he’s locked in. Like he’s entranced. The way his fingers fly across every button and joystick of the controller like its second nature to him.

But it’s been nearly twenty minutes.

Enough is enough.

You sigh and rise from the warm comfort of the bed, padding over with bare feet to where he sits in his big gaming chair— a birthday present you’d surprised him with last year. He glances over at you for a split second, trying to conceal the slight guilt that pangs inside him.

“Make room…” you say, and he obliges, pushing back a bit from the desk so you can curl up against him, sharing your sated warmth with him in hopes of coaxing him to bed.

“Swear I’m almost done,” he says, shifting a bit to allow you to get comfortable, pressing your chest to his, legs straddling his waist, arms draped loosely around him as your head rests against his shoulder.

You can just barely hear the up-beat battle music muffled through his headset, the looping audio somehow making you even more tired despite the high-energy pulse of it.

Before long, you feel yourself dozing off again, that heavy, floating feeling of the moments right before you sink into sleep dripping through you like thick syrup, honey sweet.

Not two minutes after your body had gone slack and heavy against his own, the round ends and Tomura logs out of the game, one hand carefully pressed against your back to hold you in place as he leans slightly forward to place his controller on the desk. He puts his computer to sleep, the screens fading to black.

And now, it seems, it’s time for him to put you to sleep too.

You’re passed out, completely dead to the world, breathing slow and shallow, head beginning to loll as he carefully shifts to splay his big palms under your thighs, carefully lifting you as he stands, carrying you to the bed and placing you back among the rumpled sheets.

Once you’re all tucked in again, Tomura slips out of his jeans and puts on a fresh t-shirt— a habit you worked hard to instill in him, something about not sleeping in your day clothes or wearing your sleep clothes during the day— and then joins you under the covers, snuggling up next to you and gently cradling you in his arms.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before allowing his own eyes to fall shut, hoping to meet you somewhere in your dreams.

[ghostcore3]

he’s so pretty~ 🥺🥺🥺

[yanderenightmare]

thinking about Touya and Tomura fucking a pretty little virgin and keeping her collared in their bed as their shy, slutty cumdump

Shigaraki Tomura x darling x Dabi

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, power dynamic, captive darling

fem reader

They don’t seem to enjoy each other’s company that much...

Patchface and Fugly aren’t exactly names of endearment...

Tomura seems to think he’s in charge, but Dabi’s never shown any sign of respect for that – they both just do what they want. Fighting each other with childish insults – sometimes the odd shirt grab or childish push – but never actually throwing down.

You don’t understand the nature of their relationship. They behave more like brothers than anything – forced to share the same toy – you.

Tomura is the more clingy of the two. Cuddly with you – always lazing on you like you’re his personal plush. He sleeps a lot – lies with his arms around your waist and his head in your tits – drool dribbling down his chin, getting sticky on your skin. And when he doesn’t sleep, he’s sitting in his chair – three screens making his eyes beady and baggy. He’ll often keep you on his lap – his massive girth wearing you like a fleshlight as he clicks away on his controller.

Dabi is cuddly, too, but you wouldn’t call him clingy. He prefers it when you lie against his chest. He likes to stroke his fingers up and down your skin – play a little – lick you with blue flames, just enough for it to sting just a bit. He’s somehow lazier than Tomura – always in the bed with a blunt between his lips – rolling more – sucking the slim roll while you suck him. The air in the room is always thick with it.

They’re both trigger-happy – horny at the drop of a hat. Utterly shameless with it, too – stroking their hard lengths against your warm flesh even while you sleep. Sometimes you wake up with their cum smeared on your skin – other times you wake up with one of them inside you.

Dabi reeks of cigarettes and catpiss, and Tomura isn’t much different – dry sweat and boozy breaths.

You don’t think either of them has been with too many girls. Nor does it seem that either of them has had any proper education. Schooled by the internet – incel chatrooms and porn. You often have to raise your brow at their misogyny.

You find Tomura harbors more pure resentment towards you in that aspect – sometimes so cruel, forcing you to beg him for his mercy – when he’ll keep your throat in a four-fingered lock – the fifth ghosting the skin until he’s properly satisfied with the number of tears running down your cheeks. He calls you a pretty girl, but more so as an insult – a pretty bitch only worth taking his cum.

Dabi seems to have his rage focused elsewhere – on some distant goal. He’ll brood over it in silence – often long into the night. You’ll wake up only to see he has yet to fall asleep – but you don’t dare ask him about it. He can be just as ill-tempered as Tomura if you don’t watch yourself.

They both bite harder than they bark.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

tomura follows you around everywhere. it’s a bit suffocating but it’s endearing cus it’s him y’know ?

he’s clingy, a bit overprotective and to top it all off he’s a loser with no friends, so he has like—no choice but to be by you all of the time constantly everywhere. his logic, not yours.

but it’s a bit much at times. you’re used to it by now but from an outsiders point of view it could look a little freaky because there is practically no space between you at all. he’s always sorta roaming behind you just looking around while you do your thing, he looks spaced out most of time except when you ask him something and his eyes immediately zip over to answer you.

he’s almost completely pressed to your back, his hands are always fiddling with something on you, your hair, the back of your shirt, your pant pockets. anything and everything in his reach will be pulled and prodded to keep himself busy. he’ll tug at your shirt a little harder to signal he’s bored and will tell you so, whining n telling you to “hurry up.”

“i want to leave, this place stinks.” he mumbles, lips close to your ears, his hair tickles and you shrug your shoulders at the ticklish feeling. you turn to look at his slightly furrowed brows, irritation very present in his features. you boop his nose “be patient, i’m almost done.” you tease. you hear him grumble behind you, going back to tugging at your clothes and wrinkling them “patient, patient. i’ve been plenty damn patient. said you were almost done ten minutes ago..”

if you want to go the kitchen he’s stalking over to where you are, if you leave the room for a few seconds you can’t turn your back for a millisecond before he materializes behind you, it scares you every time and he laughs about making you jump every time. he’s annoyingly sneaky.

this man has absolutely no shame to me, he will absolutely just stay by the door while you pee. like he could be telling you about how one of his teammates fucked up one of his games while you walk around doing your own thing. but then when you get to the bathroom you tell him to wait a sec and when you reach for the door he stops you, looking just as confused as you. “i’m not done.” he says, raising a brow. and no matter how incredulously you stare he is hellbent on finishing his damn story even while you’re sitting on the loo. even has the nerve to go “you done ?” when he finishes lol

loosely based on @moodyvoid s lil post about shigaraki that i want to tattoo onto my skin

[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 hit 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 your 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.”

[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.

[devildomcrybaby]

Unconcerned about whatever activity you might be occupied with, Tomura carefully grabs your wrist and leisurely lifts your shirt to press a kiss to your belly. He can be careless, letting his knuckles brush against your breasts in doing so, his other hand gripping your hip slightly pulling down your shorts exposing the side of your panties.

It's an astounding notion, being able to touch you to his heart's content. All of his life never once has he allowed himself to touch anything so freely. Anything he didn't want to slip through his fingers in ashes. Destroying is different. It's easy. It's what he was born for. But to caress? He hardly ever knew tender touches. He's not sure that he's able to do it right, either. It feels clumsy, like it's not meant to him. But you always let him. You trust that he won't tear, bruise, shatter. There must be something deeply wrong with you, he thinks. Maybe you're like those who skydive or swim with sharks just to have adrenaline running through their veins. Maybe risking your life gets you off. Relinquishing control to him. Maybe it makes you feel safe, at ease, to know that it's someone else deciding whether you live or die. You can't really be blamed for the consequences of your actions if no choice is up to you. Does his deadly touch makes you feel free? He's being ridiculous and he knows it as you run your fingers through his hair and slide your nails up his exposed arm. You're gentle.

It's a terrifying thought that you could let him because you want to. That you seek to be touched just as much as he seeks to touch you. That you might...It can't be. He can't afford the luxury of entertaining the thought.

Doesn't matter now. Just lie still against him like this.