BNHA ! Shigaraki Tomura X F!darling

My Little Pet

 YA’LL THOUGHT YOU WERE GETTING SHIGGY FLUFF?! NOPE!!!!

I just thought of this while i was reading yandere shigaraki things. I’ll get to more requests later but god damn i can’t ignore this insufferable urge.

Yandere Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: Angst, yandere shiggy, dark themes, violence, abuse, degradation, suicide, implied noncon, like this has absolutely no happiness

A/N: Warning this shit gets hella dark, this is way darker then the ‘Dead to Me’ fic i wrote awhile ago. Please note that this may trigger some people so please read at your own risk.

~~~

You sat in the room that held you captive as you shivered in fear. Your hands were the only thing that consoled you as you wrap your arms around your self as if to feel the warmth of a hug. Tears streaming down your eyes as your body was sore.

The man know as Tomura Shigaraki had kidnapped you, saying how he was so in love with you. How could you have loved someone you never met? His reasoning made absolutely no sense but you guess in the mind of a villain nothing ever made sense. Of course you thought that it couldn’t get any worse when he had kidnapped you but how wrong you were.

He would punish you for the littlest of things. Didn’t say hi to him? That earned you a slap. Didn’t wear the clothes he wanted you to wear even if he didn’t tell you he wanted you to wear them? No food for you for the rest of the day. Fallen asleep when he didn’t say you could? Beaten to a pulp.

His punishments were cruel and harsh, no remorse in his eyes while doing it. You had begged him to stop on multiple occasions but that only got you beaten harder. So you just took it, no tears no noise. Nothing to get him mad at you for. The worse one was not to long ago when you were brought to death’s door step.

Afficher davantage

Omg yes !😂

Gives me Shigaraki vibes

💗

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 17) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16

Chapter 17

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. Right now, the thing that’s wrong with it is the fact that every last light in the place is on when Hizashi guides his sports car to a stop in front of it. He rolls down the window and raises his voice in a holler that wakes you out of your doze and probably wakes the rest of the street up, too. “Special delivery, o petulant one! One human, safe and sound.”

Tomura opens the door and steps through it, which is unusual. Usually he materializes straight through the door, but this time, he’s solid enough to leave footprints all the way down the steps and along the path to the gate. You unfold yourself out of Hizashi’s car, wincing at the stiffness in your legs. Hizashi’s car is cool, but it’s sure as hell not comfortable.

Once you’ve retrieved your suitcase from the backseat, you turn to face Hizashi. “Thanks for the ride back,” you say. “And the sketches from the photos. I couldn’t have done those.”

“That wasn’t the worst research trip I’ve ever been on,” Hizashi says. You figure that’s as close to “you’re welcome” as you’re going to get.

He pulls a u-turn and zooms off down the block, and you turn to face your own house. The gate’s already open, and once you step through it, Tomura seizes you, suitcase and all. Your feet leave the ground, and Tomura sets off up the path, awkwardly carrying you. “Hey,” you complain. His shoulder’s wedged underneath your sternum in a way that’s deeply uncomfortable, and one of his hands is glued to your ass. “Put me down.”

Tomura doesn’t answer, and you consider thrashing until he puts you down. But he’s so stubborn that he probably wouldn’t let go, and the only thing worse than being carried through the yard like a sack of potatoes would be taking yourself and Tomura down for everybody to see in an attempt to escape. You decide to stick it out. You can thrash once you’re inside.

As it turns out, you don’t get a chance to thrash. Tomura drops you on the floor the instant the door shuts and climbs on top of you, and Phantom leaps over your dropped suitcase to join the party. All the air whooshes out of your lungs and it takes you a second to recover. “So you weren’t joking when you said you missed me.”

“Shut up,” Tomura mumbles. His ice-cold hands slip beneath your shirt, splaying across your ribcage, grasping at your shoulder. “You said you’d be back last night. It’s morning.”

“Two in the morning. That’s still nighttime,” you protest. Tomura makes a discontented sound. With your shirt hiked up, your stomach’s exposed, and you startle when Phantom pokes you with her nose. “Hey! I’m already cold enough.”

“She missed you.” Tomura shifts his weight slightly, allowing you to free one of your hands so you can scratch Phantom’s ears. “I missed you more.”

Phantom would probably dispute that if she could talk. You wrestle your hand out from being crushed between your chest and Tomura’s and swat his shoulder lightly with it. “I can’t believe you put a heart in your contact on my phone.”

“You said I could have an emotion thing.”

“An emoji. And I said you could have the ghost one. Not a heart,” you say. “A ghost is what you are. A heart – says things. It wouldn’t make sense to you.”

“It’s not that complicated,” Tomura says. There’s an odd note in his voice. “I’m not stupid. I know how human things work. I know what it means that you don’t want people to know about me.”

For a moment you’re reminded of Hizashi, of Hizashi’s insistence that he understands humans enough to know why people do what they do. “It’s just hard to explain. That you’re a –”

“I can pass as human if I need to. I even blink the right way. The others don’t.”

“But –” You break off, clamp your mouth shut. Not tonight. You don’t want to have this argument tonight. Not when you’ve missed him. Not when you just got home. “I told my parents you’re my boyfriend. They want to meet you. When they come here we’ll figure something out. Okay?”

“You’re embarrassed about me,” Tomura says. “That’s what –”

“Stop listening to Dabi about me,” you say. You talk over Tomura’s question about how you knew what he was going to say. “It’s always Dabi trying to make you feel bad about yourself. Has anybody else ever said things like that to you? Anybody who’s not a dick?”

Tomura makes an irritated sound in response, which means you’re right about this. “Hey,” you say. You lift one hand from where it’s resting between his shoulder blades and start to comb your fingers through the ends of his hair. “I missed you the whole time I was gone. You staying on the phone with me all night was maybe the nicest thing anybody ever did for me. If I’m weird about you meeting my parents, it says more about them than it does about you.”

“Mmh.” Tomura still sounds unhappy, but he settles into your arms, and you feel him relax muscle by muscle. “Would you still be weird if I was human?”

“Weirder,” you say, and he snorts. “Can we get off the floor now?”

“The floor’s fine.”

“Says the person not laying on it.” You shift around until Tomura pulls his hands out from under your shirt and moves. “I’m going to the couch.”

“I was comfortable,” Tomura complains.

“If you let me get to the couch in the first place, you wouldn’t have had to move.”

You have a feeling Tomura had something in mind for when you got home tonight, but the two of you kiss for approximately ten seconds before Phantom jumps on the couch with you, and you know Tomura would never push her away. She makes herself comfortable in between your feet and Tomura’s and starts to snore. Ordinarily it’s a mood killer, but ordinarily you haven’t been gone for a day and a half. Tomura waits a few seconds to see if she’ll wake up, then leans in to kiss you again.

In general, Tomura has one type of kissing in his repertoire – hot and heavy making out, more enthusiasm than technique. The technique’s there, sure, but it takes a backseat to trying to enthusiastically suck your soul out through your mouth. Except for right now. Right now his kisses are softer, almost gentle. And slow. One of his hands grips your jaw to turn your head for better access, but then it shifts to cradling it, cold fingers pressed against your cheek and your throat as he kisses you. You’re not really sure what to make of it. But you like it.

It gives you more time for things. You have time this way, time to slide your hands beneath his shirt, tracing over the outlines of his vertebrae, a little more prominent than they should be. If he was human, he’d be almost skeletally thin, but you’d touch him like this more if you could get away with it. Maybe he’ll let you sometime. Tomura makes a contented hum against your mouth and sinks deeper into the kiss.

But it’s weird. Usually when he kisses you he’s wound up within seconds. You draw back, or try to. He won’t let you, so you pull one hand from under his shirt, plant it on his cheek, and shove him back just enough to give yourself space to talk. “What is this about? You’re not usually like this.”

“I never get to do it as long as I want. My body starts acting stupid, and then I burn through too much life-force and I have to go.” Tomura is holding perfectly still, even though he’s sprawled out on top of you in a way that’s probably hard to balance. “I thought maybe if I went slower I could stay longer.”

He peels your hand away from his face and leans in again. You still have one hand on his back. With the other one free, you can run your fingers through his hair, and you’re surprised to find that it’s not tangled. This time you speak around the kiss. “Did you brush your hair?”

“No.”

Huh. You go back to kissing him, unconcerned, until a thought crosses your mind and you sit partway up in surprise. Tomura starts bitching immediately at being jarred out of position, but you ignore him. “Did you dematerialize at all while I was gone?”

“No.” Tomura sits up, too, but only for the purposes of pushing you back down. “Come back. I’m not done.”

You’d really like to keep kissing him and not thinking about anything at all, but now your mind is spinning and you can’t make it stop. “Why would you do that? That was thirty-six hours. Why would you burn that much energy?”

“Why does it matter? I still have enough.” Tomura’s being dumb on purpose. You know he is, and you don’t think it’s just because he wants to go back to kissing. “Humans are like this all the time.”

No. Not right now. You can’t have this fight right now, but – “But you aren’t!”

“Aren’t what?”

“Human,” you say. “Why –”

You break off. Tomura’s red eyes are fixed on yours. “Say it.”

You’ve wondered on and off if he knows this fight is coming. Now you know for sure. “No,” you say. “Not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I just got home. It’s late and I missed you and you missed me.” You pull at Tomura’s shoulders. “I want to kiss you. I don’t want to do this. Not tonight. Please.”

If he asks you any more questions, you might lose it. If he asks you what you’re so scared of, it might all come spilling out at once. But Tomura doesn’t ask. He doesn’t ask when the two of you are going to talk about it, either. He just thinks about it for a few seconds before leaning in to kiss you again.

It feels like kissing and making up, when the two of you haven’t even had a fight yet. The real fight is coming. Tomorrow, or maybe the next day, or the day after that. One of these days you’re going to snap and tell Tomura to stop talking about wanting to be human when he threw away his chance at the real thing, and he’ll probably ask you why you give a damn, and then you’ll have a choice to make. Lie and say you don’t care either way. Or tell him what you can barely admit to yourself: You love him, and you want a life with him. It’s easy to imagine Tomura protesting that the two of you have a life already and having to correct him. A human life. Together.

You can’t say that. He might talk about being human, but you know better than to think that’s what he really wants. What you have with him right now is what you’re going to get, and it’s good. It’s enough. You sink your hands into his hair and kiss him until your eyelids start to feel heavy, and you don’t stop there. The last thing you’re aware of before you fall asleep is the icy pressure of Tomura’s body against yours, and the sensation of his ribcage expanding and contracting beneath your hands as his lungs fill with breaths he’ll never truly need.

You’re a wreck in the morning, partially from sleeping on the couch all night and partially from a nightmare you had while you were there. You didn’t wake up from it, and Tomura didn’t notice anything – when you ask him in the morning if you’d done anything weird in the night, he shakes his head and flops back down on you, unwilling to let you move even though he’s been there for hours. You don’t tell him you had a bad dream, and you definitely don’t tell him what it was about.

You were in your neighborhood, or where your neighborhood used to be. The houses were ruins of what they’d been before, and you were alone in the middle of the street. There were scraps of something floating by in the wind, something that looked like the shreds of a ribbon made of clouds and ash, and you were chasing them, grabbing as many as you could. No matter how many you grabbed hold of, there were always more, and as you raced frantically down the street, the wind kicked up, carrying them further and further away. Scattering them, until there was no hope you’d ever find them all.

In the dream you felt sick. You wanted to scream and cry, but mostly, you wanted to find Tomura. You called out for him over and over again with no answer, and you remember the exact moment in the dream when it dawned on you. When you looked down at the meager wisps of cloud and ash in your hands and realized that you’d found all that was left of him already.

You try to be normal about it. It was just a dream. But you’re creeped out after your conversation with Hizashi yesterday, and instead of being calm and collected, you wind up clingy. You’re worried Tomura will be annoyed, but Tomura’s pretty enthused about it, at least until you start shivering and your stomach growls. He dematerializes out of your grip. “Go eat or something. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your phone rings while you’re waiting for your electric teakettle to finish heating up and staring at a banana, trying to summon up any desire to eat it. You answer. It’s Keigo. “Yo, humans-only strategy breakfast today. Are you in or are you in?”

“You have to be in,” Spinner says from somewhere in the background. “You owe me.”

You do owe Spinner. A lot. “Okay. I can come over –”

“We’ll drive. Be ready to go in five minutes.”

You hang up the phone, feeling a little whiplash. Tomura’s hovering close enough over your shoulder to have listened in. He’s frowning. “You’re leaving again?”

“I owe them,” you say. Tomura flops against your back, chin notched over your shoulder, clearly pouting. “I’m sorry. I want to stay.”

“Then stay.”

“I won’t be gone long.” You twist in his arms to face him and hug him, burying your face in his shoulder. The dream comes back to you, the memory of those scraps of essence fluttering in your hands, and you hug him tighter. The words slip out before you can stop them. “I love you.”

Tomura freezes in your arms. “What?”

You should stay put. You should explain yourself. You can’t just drop something like that and expect him to let it go. In his spot, you wouldn’t. But instead of explaining, you yank yourself out of his grip and bolt for the front door. “Hey!” Tomura snaps, chasing after you. He’s not dematerializing. That gives you the edge. “Get back here. You can’t just –”

You open the front door, book it down the steps, and step through the gate just in time for Keigo’s car to reverse out of his driveway, hang a turn, and come to a stop in front of your house. “Get in.”

Jin is in the front seat with Keigo. You and Spinner are in the back, and you think that will be everyone – but then Keigo hits the brakes outside of Aizawa’s house, and Aizawa comes shambling down the front steps, looking like hell. Keigo snorts. “Looks like somebody had a busy night.”

Jin snickers, then twists around to look at you. “Did you sleep? You look like you slept a little bit. Damn, I had a bet that Tomura was going to keep you up all night.”

The idea of the neighborhood discussing your sex life, let alone betting on it, is absolutely horrendous, even if the former ghosts are kept apprised of everything that happens courtesy of Tomura’s unwillingness to keep a lid on his feelings. Jin waits for a comment from you, doesn’t get one, and turns to Spinner. “You hung out with him the other day. Did he say anything to you?”

“About what?” Spinner looks like he feels the same about this conversation as you do, which is reassuring. “We were just playing Pokémon. He was kind of mopey, but that was it.”

That reminds you – you need to thank Spinner. “How much do I owe you for what you gave him?”

“I didn’t buy new stuff. I just gave him old stuff I don’t really use,” Spinner says. “He’s not bad to play with. Better than Jin.”

“Don’t be mean,” Jin protests. “I suck!”

Aizawa knocks on the passenger-side window and scares all four of you. Jin rolls it down to stare at Aizawa and Aizawa stares back. “Out.”

The five of you set off for breakfast, Aizawa riding shotgun while you’re sandwiched between Jin and Spinner in the back of the car. The tight conditions don’t do much to improve your mood. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes,” Aizawa says. “It seems the responsibility for dealing with Tomura’s conjurer will fall to us.”

You don’t know where he got that idea. From Hizashi? Hizashi’s conjurer is dead, so it shouldn’t matter to him if Tomura takes himself out killing Shigaraki. Everybody else in the car seems to be on board with it, though, and it’s not like you can get out of the car. You’re trapped. Worst of all, your phone is buzzing, and you have a bad feeling you know who’s sending the messages. You would, if you were in Tomura’s spot. If he’d told you he loved you and promptly ran for it, you’d start blowing up his phone with no guilt whatsoever.

You decide that for the sake of your sanity, you’re not going to look at your phone. You’ll deal with this when you get home and not before.

The restaurant the others are dragging you to is one you recognize. When you and your college friends needed hangover food after a long night, you came here. Keigo must have had a similar experience, because he orders for all five of you without looking at the menu, and once there’s coffee in front of everybody, he looks at you. “So. What did you find out?”

“I didn’t find anything worth dragging me out of my house this early,” you say. “Ask him.”

You point at Aizawa, who’s too busy chugging coffee to answer. He finishes his cup, takes Keigo’s, and drinks half of it before speaking up. “There’s a strong chance that Tomura’s conjurer has very few remaining ghosts. If that’s the case, all Tomura needs to do in order to cut his conjurer’s access to the world between is to remain materialized.”

To remain materialized. Like he’s apparently been doing for most of the last forty-eight hours. “If he does so,” Aizawa continues after the rest of Keigo’s coffee, “he’d leave his conjurer with close to the same degree of power as a human man possesses. Which would leave him vulnerable to us.”

“So that’s what this is about,” Keigo says. He steals Jin’s coffee, and you drag your cup closer in case Jin’s getting any ideas. “If we want the conjurer dead –”

“And we don’t want Tomura to get sucked back into the world between –” Spinner breaks in.

“We have to do it ourselves.” Keigo completes the sentence. “Our thoughts are safe. They can’t read our intentions. When he gets here, we’ll kill him.”

“Great,” you say. “That still doesn’t explain why I’m here.”

“We need to tell you because we need Tomura to buy in,” Spinner says. “If he decides to get into it with his conjurer as a ghost, we can’t help. And, uh –”

“The plan from before is still a good plan,” Jin says eagerly. You look at him, your mind utterly blank. “I mean, it sucks. But it’s better than nothing.”

“The plan from before,” you repeat. And then it clicks – the plan for dealing with Garaki, and the reason why you and not somebody else need to be the one who convinces Tomura. “Except this time I’m the bait.”

“Right,” Keigo says. “He’s not going to come out of hiding unless he’s got a good reason. We need to offer him something big. His wayward ghost’s human? It doesn’t get any bigger than that.”

If the conjurer’s hesitating to take on Tomura, you have a hard time believing that he’ll risk coming after you. But you don’t need him to attack you. You just need him to show himself. Still – “If Tomura doesn’t think you can protect me, he’ll never go for this plan. All of us fought Garaki. We couldn’t touch him.”

“Funny you should say that, because I remember you sneaking up out of nowhere and hitting him with a stick.”

You can’t keep the sarcasm out of your voice. “And look how much good that did.”

“A lot of good, given that he released Dabi when you struck him,” Aizawa says, and you shut up. “Garaki was connected to a thousand ghosts. It’s likely that Tomura’s conjurer is working with far fewer.”

“One.” You speak before the thought’s fully formed, but then you realize what you’re actually saying and keep talking. “He told me that when Mr. Yagi and his conjurer fought, he felt the other ghosts connected to his conjurer being destroyed. So unless that conjurer’s made a bunch of new haunts –”

“He hasn’t,” Aizawa says.

“Then it could work,” Keigo says. “Let’s come up with a plan.”

Thankfully, breakfast arrives before the planning starts in earnest, so the server doesn’t have to interrupt a conversation about how to get away with murder. The how-to-get-away-with-murder conversation includes you only tangentially. Your main role is to be here, memorize the plan, and present it to Tomura as totally simple, easy, and low-risk. You pick at your breakfast, horrified to find that you wish you were more involved in the planning. As terrible as it is, it would be better than thinking about what’s going to happen when you get home.

Eventually the group settles on a course of action. You’ll take off your bracelets to expose yourself and give them to Hizashi instead, hoping they’ll hide his powers long enough for the conjurer to close in on you. Once he does, Hizashi will restrain him, someone will contact Tomura and order him to materialize, and everyone else will kill the conjurer once he loses access to the world between. You’re pretty sure Tomura will have issues with multiple parts of the plan, and you say so, but as Spinner points out, Tomura won’t be able to stop the plan once it’s in motion without endangering you. You’re inclined to point out that all Tomura has to do to stop the plan from ever getting going in the first place is to stop you from leaving the house, but you’re pretty sure he won’t do that. In fact, if he’s mad enough at you about this morning, there’s a good chance he won’t let you back in.

You’re hoping to get home immediately after breakfast, but everyone else decides that they might as well run errands while they’re out and about. You get dragged to the dry cleaners, the grocery store, the game store, and the makeup counter at the nearest department store before Aizawa puts his foot down. On the way back to the neighborhood, everybody quizzes you about the plan, making sure you’ve got all the details. You’ve got them. You’ve also got a pit of dread yawning open in your stomach, and it gets worse the instant Keigo makes the turn onto your street.

You wonder if the other ghosts have felt anything emanating from your house, or if Tomura’s kept a lid on his feelings for once. Now that you think about it, you’ve got no idea what Tomura might be feeling right now. Keigo comes to a stop in front of your house and you square your shoulders. You’re about to find out.

The front door swings open as you climb the stairs, then shuts and locks behind you. Phantom runs to greet you, just like always, and you sit down to cuddle with her. There’s no sign of Tomura. With Phantom cuddled in your lap and licking your chin, you fish your phone out of your pocket and check your messages.

Tomura ❤️: did you mean it

Tomura ❤️: you can’t just say that and run away

Tomura ❤️: if you didn’t mean it don’t come back

Tomura ❤️: i don’t need you

Tomura ❤️: i don’t need any of this

You set your phone down and push it away. Then you look up and out at the empty space in front of you. “I meant it. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

Tomura’s voice echoes out of everywhere and nowhere. “Then why did you leave?”

“I wasn’t planning to say it right then. Or like that,” you say. “It sort of just – came out. Sorry.”

“How long?”

“Huh?”

“How long?” Tomura demands. He materializes partially in front of you, and Phantom scrambles out of your lap and runs to him. Based on the way she’s acting, you can tell he’s been hiding from her all day, and he feels guilty enough about it to materialize the rest of the way. He’s petting her, fussing with her ears, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter but just as intense as before. “How long have you loved me?”

It crosses your mind that you could lie. Moreover, that you should lie. That you should say it’s something recent – the last few weeks, or maybe the last month at the very most. So recent that it barely means anything at all. But you’ve been in love with Tomura a lot longer than you’ve wanted to admit to, and you owe him the truth. “A while.”

You don’t have to specify much further than that. Tomura gets it. “Fuck,” he snarls, and Phantom startles, shies away. “Sorry. Sorry. No, don’t –”

“She just needs a second. Let her go.” You watch as Tomura loosens his grip. Phantom scrambles away, runs in a little circle, shakes so hard her ears flap, and comes cautiously back within reach. “I don’t understand. Why does it matter how long I’ve felt that way?”

“A month ago. That was my chance! If I’d known then – if you’d told me instead of – I would have –”

Tomura breaks off, and your chest tightens. “You wouldn’t have,” you say, but there’s a note of uncertainty in your voice. You don’t know that. You’ve fallen into the trap of thinking you know what’s going on in Tomura’s head before. “That’s not how it works. You have to want it –”

“More than anything else? Yeah.” Tomura’s jaw is clenched. He’s scratching hard at the side of his neck. “Except I didn’t want to change and find out you didn’t want me more.”

This is the fight you’ve been dreading. It’s almost a relief to get it out in the open at last. “Don’t pin this on me,” you say. “You weren’t sure before, but you’re sure now because I said three words?”

“They’re important!” Tomura snaps. “Everybody knows that. If I’d known you were sure about me –”

“That’s not what ‘I love you’ means,” you say. Tomura glares at you. “It means I’m serious about you. It means I don’t want anybody else. It means I see you in my future, and I like the fact that you’re there. But it’s not a sure thing. There’s no such thing as a sure thing.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, pressing the heels of your hands against them. “If you were waiting on me to say something so you could decide about being human, it must not have been what you really wanted.”

“You don’t know anything! The others were sure when they changed!”

“I don’t think they were,” you say slowly. “Aizawa was unconscious when Hizashi embodied himself. Spinner was barely conscious when Magne did it. Neither of them could have gotten an answer from their human. Himiko and Eri didn’t ask Jin and Shinsou if they could be their little sisters before they did it.”

“So?” Tomura’s voice is sharp and bitter.

“They didn’t have a sure thing,” you say. “They changed anyway. If being human was what you really wanted, it wouldn’t have mattered whether I loved you or not.”

“You don’t know anything,” Tomura says flatly. “It doesn’t matter now. This is how you’re stuck with me.”

“I’m not stuck,” you say. Tomura scoffs. “I’m not, Tomura. This didn’t happen because I’ve been hoping you’ll embody yourself permanently the whole time.”

“Then why?”

Why does anybody fall in love with anybody else? “I’ll answer that when you tell me why you let me stay here instead of scaring me off like everybody else.”

It’s quiet in your house. Phantom loses patience with the two of you and trots off into the living room, leaving you and Tomura to stare at each other from opposite ends of the front hall. You’re not going to try to answer his question, and he looks like he’s got no plans to answer yours, and contests to see which of you is more stubborn usually end with neither of you getting what you want. You edge a few inches backwards and lean against the door, posture open and legs loosely crossed. You know what this pose looks like to Tomura. It’s all the ground you’re willing to give, which means the ball is firmly in his court. All you can do is wait.

Tomura dematerializes, and your heart sinks – but then a rush of cold sweeps over you, and he settles into your lap like he always does. “You’re stuck with me like this.”

“I’m not stuck,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I haven’t been waiting for you to embody yourself. I guess neither of us know if we want that.”

Tomura rolls his eyes in response, you feel him relax slightly. “There are some things I know I do want,” you say. “I want to stay here with you. I want to call you whatever I have to call you so people stop questioning what you are to me. I want to introduce you to my parents –”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You don’t. You think I’ll act weird –”

“I’m counting on it,” you say, and Tomura gives you a surprised look. “If we’re weird enough to them, it’ll be a long time before they come back.”

Tomura laughs at that. You hear him laugh infrequently enough that it still makes you feel like you’ve won something. “I like it best when it’s just us,” you say. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, and he lets you do it. He’s fully relaxed now, which makes you feel sort of bad for what you’re about to say. “And I know I want us to have sex. Today. What do you think?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tomura says, because he’s an asshole. He twists in your arms and presses his lips against yours – lightly enough that he can talk, and so can you. “I’ve only been waiting for a week.”

His voice goes rough and raspy in a way that makes your skin crawl with anticipation, but it’s not like you haven’t been waiting, too. “We could have done it earlier, but you were too busy being mad that I had to leave.”

Tomura protests, but you kiss him again, and he stops talking in a hurry. You’ve spent a lot of time making out with Tomura by now, and you know what he likes. You know how to wind him up at lightspeed, which has the effect of winding you up at lightspeed, which is great when the two of you don’t have a lot of time on your hands. It’s not so great when you’re trying to have sex. But you’ve been thinking for a while about how to make this work. Step one involves making Tomura come.

Tomura catches on quickly, but not quickly enough. He’s already grinding against you, his cock already hard and straining the confines of his pants, his breathing harsh and unsteady in your ear when you bow your head to kiss his neck. “What are you –” he breaks off, struggling to form words. “Hey. If you – if you don’t stop –”

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask. “I will.”

“No,” Tomura says through gritted teeth. You slide one hand between the two of you, tracing the outline of his cock through his pants. “Hey! I thought we were supposed to –”

“Have sex?” You keep touching him, your stomach twisting with desire at the needy, desperate sound he makes. “We’re going to. I need you to come for me first.”

“Why?”

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask again. You draw back from kissing Tomura’s neck to look him in the eye and your stomach twists again, harder this time. He looks so pretty, his face flushed and his dilated eyes shrouded by too-long eyelashes, and he’s shaking his head. No, he doesn’t want you to stop. Good. “Then you’ll see soon.”

You kiss him. He’s squirming in your lap, hips rocking unevenly as he chases the scant friction provided by your hand, and your mind goes temporarily blank as you imagine your positions reversed, your legs hooked over his hips as he thrusts inside you. The thought distracts you to such a degree that Tomura notices – and because Tomura’s an asshole, he points it out. “Are you getting off on this?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” you respond. “You’re just too pretty.”

Tomura startles, and you say it again. Better yet, you elaborate on how hot it is that he wants you this much, how much you like his desperate squirming in your lap as he seeks release. It doesn’t take much. A few sentences, and a strangled sound escapes from Tomura’s mouth as he shudders, throws his head back. A damp patch blooms through the fabric of his pants. You yank him closer, pressing your mouth against his throat. “Stay here, Tomura. Stay with me.”

He mumbles your name, and you kiss him again. When he speaks up, he sounds a little more like himself. “Now what?”

“Now we go upstairs,” you say. “This next part will be better with the bed.”

Tomura’s a little shaky as he gets to his feet, and you hold his hand on the way up the stairs. He’s holding onto his physical form pretty well. You shoo him over to your bed, shut your bedroom door, and head into the bathroom to retrieve your still-unopened box of condoms. Tomura leans back on his hands and watches you through half-lidded eyes. “We need those?”

“Yes, we do,” you confirm. You set them down on the bedside table and start taking off your clothes, starting with your jeans.

You’ve been naked in front of Tomura before. Fully naked when you didn’t know he was there, partially when you did, but getting purposely, completely nude in front of him is something new. You lose your underwear next, and take your bra off without removing your shirt. When you glance over at Tomura to see how he’s taking this, you find that he’s taken off his shirt and is in the process of peeling off his pants. He glances down at himself, grimaces. “Why did I have to do this first?”

“So you’ll be less sensitive for this,” you say. You decide to leave your shirt on for now. “I want to make sure you last.”

“I can last as long as I need to.”

You remember the time the two of you tried edging – tried being the operative word – and wince. “Then it was just to make sure. Are you really going to complain about getting to go two rounds instead of one?”

This really isn’t a good time for Tomura to hit you with that dumbest-person-ever look, but he’s doing it anyway. “It’s not fair,” he says. If there’s something you’re supposed to understand about that sentiment, you don’t have a clue what it is. “What if you can’t last?”

You laugh before you can stop yourself. “Most women don’t come from just this kind of sex by itself. Me lasting isn’t going to be a problem.”

“That’s stupid. Why are we doing it if you’re not going to like it?”

“I’ll like it,” you say. Your face heats up just thinking about it, but Tomura doesn’t look convinced. “It’s complicated. Do you really want to talk about this right now?”

“No. I want to do this.” Tomura reaches over, grabs you by the hem of your shirt, and yanks you onto the bed. “If you won’t come from sex, you have to come from something else.”

Like always, Tomura’s got weird ideas about how sex is supposed to work. You try to tell him that, but he’s already pushing the hem of your shirt up to bare your breasts, scraping his thumb along the underside of one while his lips close around the opposite nipple. Your skin is tingling. One of Tomura’s legs slips between yours and your hips lift against it involuntarily. Tomura draws back, smirking. “You’re already so wet. I barely did anything. You like watching me that much?”

“Yes.” You had a better retort, but he’s fiddling with your other nipple now, and it’s hard to focus. “You watch me all the time. I don’t get to watch you?”

“Only when I want you to.”

Once the two of you are done here, you’re going to introduce Tomura to the concept of hypocrisy. The thought forms in your head, then slips away as Tomura pushes your legs apart and sprawls out between them. Cold air brushes over your clit as he exhales, followed a moment later by his tongue. A gasp sneaks out of your mouth. Tomura makes a pleased sound, parts your folds with his thumbs, and dives into eating you out in earnest.

In general, Tomura is about as good at teasing as he is at edging, which is to say he’s terrible at it. He likes being told he’s good at things, and no matter how much he makes fun of you for getting off on him, he gets off on you just as much. But he’s teasing you today, absolutely merciless with it, his mouth barely leaving your skin while the pressure of his tongue and lips remains unbearably light. You lift your hips, seeking more friction, and he pins you down and continues at the same steady, insufficient pace.

“Tomura,” you plead. You know he’s weak to hearing you say his name. “Please, Tomura. I need you. Please –”

“What?”

“More,” you whisper, and Tomura stops, because he’s an asshole. “Please. When do I ever make you beg?”

Tomura’s cheek is pressed against your thigh. His mouth is wet, and you feel his lips curve into a smile. “Say it.”

Your brain is so scrambled that it takes you a second to realize what he means. And once you do, you’re borderline appalled. “No.”

“Why not?” Tomura accents the question by sliding two fingers inside you, torturously slow. “You said it before.”

“Humans don’t say ‘I love you’ during sex,” you say. The slow motion of his fingers is driving you insane, half because you know what he can do with them if he wants to and half because you’re a few minutes away from having his cock inside you and you’ve been thinking about it for weeks. “Besides, why should I say it again? You never said you loved me.”

Tomura’s only response to that is to bury his face between your legs. It doesn’t worry you. It’s impossible to worry about anything other than whether he’ll stop, but even if you could, you wouldn’t be worried about this. You’ve never expected Tomura to feel the way a human would about things, or express how he feels in the type of words humans use. You’ve always been willing to take what you can get, and if what you can get is the full focus of his attention and enthusiasm on making you come so hard you see stars, that’s more than fine with you.

You sit up as soon as your head’s stopped spinning, only to immediately find yourself squirming away from Tomura, who’s more than ready for round two. You put a hand on his chest to hold him back. “Condom first.”

It’s been a while since you had to deal with a condom, but it’s not the kind of thing you forget about. You decide it’ll be easier to do it yourself than to try to talk Tomura through it. You pry open the box, noting as you do that the collective expiration date is sooner than you thought it was, and get to work, trying not to think about the fact that you’ve had an unopened box of condoms in your possession long enough for it to practically expire. Tomura seems on board with the condom situation until you try to put it on him, at which point he makes a face. “I thought you had to wear it.”

“No, this time you do.” You haven’t been on birth control since your last relationship, but you’ll make an appointment with the doctor tomorrow and get back on it. If nothing else, you can be confident that Tomura’s not going to give you an STD. “Just to be safe.”

“Fine,” Tomura says, rolling his eyes. You shove at him until he sits back and leans against the headboard. “Hurry up.”

You were never uncertain about whether making Tomura come at least once before trying to have sex was a good idea, but now you’re convinced – even after that, he’s sensitive enough that putting on the condom makes him twitch and moan. For your part, you’re reminded all over again just how big he is, and you feel a sharp twinge of nerves. You shove it away. You’re not a virgin. You can handle this. This is why you decided to be on top.

You straddle Tomura carefully, leaning down for a kiss to settle your nerves. He’s enthusiastic as always, and it’s a struggle to pull away long enough to speak. “We’ll go slow at first. If one of us needs to take a break, we can.”

“A break?” Tomura’s eyes are dilated. His hands slide up beneath your shirt. Either they’re not as cold as they used to be or you’re getting used to them. “Why?”

“To compose ourselves so we don’t finish too soon.” You’re being very charitable in describing it as a “we” thing. “Or so I can adjust.”

You’re hoping Tomura won’t ask what you need to adjust to, and to remove the possibility entirely, you position yourself appropriately and start to sink down on his cock. It should be easy. You’re wet. You’ve already come once. You’re not a virgin. But Tomura’s easily the biggest you’ve ever slept with, and it’s been a while. The stretch is bordering on painful. More than bordering on it. Your eyes are watering.

Tomura sucks in a breath, eyes squeezed shut. One hand grabs a fistful of the pillows on the bed. The other seizes your hip like a lifeline, hard enough to leave ghost marks and real bruises. The pressure on your hip distracts you slightly from the pressure between your legs, and you sink down a little further, a whimper escaping from your mouth. Tomura’s eyes fly open at the sound. He shifts beneath you, and the sudden motion combined with your weak efforts to relax allow you to settle down the rest of the way, your body flush with his and his cock seated fully inside you.

You can feel your muscles straining, struggling to adjust. Tomura’s hold on your hip tightens even further. “Don’t move,” he hisses. You’ve got no intention of it. “I can’t – I want –”

“What?” You set your hands on his shoulders and cling desperately. You want to bury your face in his shoulder, but you’d have to lean forward, and you’re supposed to be riding him. You picked this position. You have to make it work, and the longer you have to adjust, the more accustomed you get to the pressure building up inside you. You need to hold still. You feel like you’ll split apart if you move. And at the same time you’re starting to feel – good. “Tomura?”

He shakes his head, jaw clenched. The hand on your hip loosens and slides down to cup the curve of your ass, shifting you forward and upwards ever so slightly. Even that slight change in position electrifies you. You gasp, and Tomura presses on your hip to shift you back to the same position as before. Then his hand slides to your ass again, and you figure out what he’s doing. You figure out what you’re doing, too. You take the motion Tomura outlined and shift slowly through it, at your own pace and under your own power.

The stretch of Tomura’s cock is easier to work through now that you know how to make it feel good. Each movement is still enough to drive the air out of your lungs, and your face heats up with a flush that spreads down your throat until your entire body feels hot and slick with sweat. Tomura’s flushed, too. He moves unsteadily beneath you with uneven jerks of his hips, trying to match your rhythm but either too inexperienced or too undone to manage it properly. The hand not grasping your hip slides beneath your shirt, along your back, fingernails sinking in. Nobody’s ever done that to you before. It’s really hot.

Tomura’s usually noisy when the two of you hook up – noisy, but never talkative unless you’re teasing him. At first you think this will be like that, and at first it is. The desperate noises escaping from his parted lips are as familiar as they are intoxicating, and your body tenses with desire in response. Tomura’s head falls back against the headboard, his chest heaving. And then, to your shock, he opens his mouth and speaks.

“You feel good,” he says, his voice raspier than you’ve ever heard it. “So good. So tight and hot and wet. You want this. Say you want it. Say you want me.”

You forgot about this part of sex, the part where anything feels reasonable if it keeps him inside you and keeps that almost-unbearable tension building through your body, radiating from the inside out. “I want you.”

“Say it again.” Tomura’s crimson eyes open, focus on yours. The intensity of his gaze and the sensation of his nails digging into your back and the feeling of his slow, almost experimental thrusts is almost too much. You’re not sure you can talk. “Say you want me like I want you. I wanted you before I knew how to want things. You feel so good. Fuck –”

You don’t have a praise kink like Tomura does, but you’ve never been immune to the sound of his voice. “I want you,” you say again. “So much, Tomura. I – ah –”

He’s moving faster now, not matching your pace so much as setting your own. You need that. You didn’t know how much you needed it until Tomura seized control, but for the first time in a long time, you’re completely at his mercy, letting him take the lead without direction or argument. You like the role you play in your relationship, and you wouldn’t want it to be different, but every so often it feels good to go along for the ride.

But it’s not a ride anymore. Tomura rolls the two of you over, pinning you beneath him. His cock slips out of you as you change position, and when you reach down to help him guide it back into place, you register something odd about the slickness of the condom. Any thought about it at all exits your mind as Tomura thrusts back into you. You hook your legs over his hips, gasping at the change in angle. “I want you,” you say again, and Tomura shudders, swears. “I want you, Tomura. I need you. Tomura, please. Please –”

You can feel him trying to control himself, trying to outlast you, and you’re about to tell him not to – except you don’t have to tell him, because the pressure building within you lasts for exactly three more thrusts before it snaps. You’ve never come just from something inside you before, but there’s a first time for everything, and you note through the haze that it makes a certain kind of sense. Tomura’s not like anyone you’ve met before, let alone slept with. Of course you’d come from just his cock.

Your back arches, your legs locking tighter around Tomura’s narrow hips, and although your vision is blurry, you can see him staring down at you, his hair falling around his face, his eyes dilated and his mouth open and panting. Your muscles clench tight around his cock and his jaw drops, the filthiest moan you’ve ever heard drifting through his cracked, parted lips. His hips jerk in the frantic thrusts that mean he’s close, the ones you remember from the times you’ve used your hands or your mouth, the times he’s rubbed himself to orgasm against your leg, your hip, your ass. What he says is familiar, too. “Tell me again. Tell me –”

“I love you,” you say. You’re his first – first handhold, first orgasm, first kiss, everything. If you have it your way, you’ll be his only. “You’re mine.”

Tomura comes, his body shaking, his eyelids fluttering. He’s so pretty. You tell him that and feel his hips twitch weakly again. Sometime – next time, maybe – you’d like to roll the two of you over and ride him to overstimulation, until he’s a sweaty, sticky, shuddering mess beneath you. That kind of thing will be easier once you’ve got birth control worked out. Right now there’s a condom to deal with.

Tomura’s physical form is fading fast, but he still manages to pull out, and he’s the one who alerts you that there’s a problem. “It broke.”

You slide one hand down between your legs and find that the condom is one hundred percent broken – and your fingers come away covered in some mix of your own wetness and Tomura’s cum when you dip them inside yourself to check. Tomura’s faded almost completely, but you can feel him watching, and feel his anxiety, too. There’s something endearingly human about it. Ordinarily you’d be unhappy, too, but you find yourself oddly calm. “It’s fine.”

“It’s fine?”

“Yeah. Not ideal, but I’ll pick up the morning-after pill on my way to work tomorrow.” You’ve never used it before, but you had friends who did, and while it’s expensive, it seems relatively low-impact. “I’m not worried about it.”

It’s quiet for a second. “So we can do it again.”

“Yes,” you say. “Not right now. I don’t think either of us has the energy for that.”

“I had to use some of your plants.” Tomura sounds guilty. “The – what do you call them. The ones that die every year.”

“Annuals. It’s okay.” It’s late October. They were dying anyway. “I’m glad you did.”

You don’t plant very many annuals. You wish you’d planted more – enough to give Tomura the energy to stay with you, so you won’t have to fall asleep alone tonight.  But at least you’ll fall asleep amidst the evidence of everything you do have, instead of thinking about the one thing you don’t.

You get up from the bed on absurdly shaky legs and dispose of the condom in the bathroom trash, then set about cleaning up. You can’t clean up all the way, courtesy of the condom fiasco – according to your college friends, who definitely had more adventurous sex lives than you did, cum leaks out at its own pace. You and Tomura didn’t bother getting under the covers, so you peel off the duvet and swap it out for a quilt from the closet. Then you start getting dressed.

You have to undress the rest of the way in order to put on clean clothes. You’ve just taken off your shirt when a cold hand lands on your back, scaring the hell out of you. You twist around, looking for Tomura, but he’s not materialized, and his hand lands on your back again. “What are these?”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s referring to. “The scratches? You did those. When I was on top.”

“They hurt.”

You shrug. The soon-to-be bruises on your hips hurt more, and you’re sorer than expected, courtesy of Tomura’s size and his enthusiasm towards the end. “It’s fine.”

“You’re really calm,” Tomura says suspiciously. “Why?”

You were thinking about putting on real clothes. You change your mind and get into your pajamas instead. “Sex is always sort of weird. I was expecting that. But sex for humans releases all kinds of stuff in our brains that makes us feel good, even if it’s not the best sex ever. And this was really good. So I feel calm. How do you feel?”

Tomura doesn’t answer. You open the door to your room in case Phantom wants in, then get into bed and curl up tight. The cold settles in around you a few moments later, and you hear Tomura’s voice in your ear. “I thought humans weren’t supposed to say I love you during sex.”

“Sometimes humans don’t do what we’re supposed to do,” you say. Tomura snorts. “It’s usually sort of a mood killer.”

“I liked it.” For a moment, Tomura’s physical presence feels real. You feel the weight of his arm draped over you, the solidity of his body curled around yours – and then he’s gone. “I love you.”

You didn’t need to hear him say it. You knew how he felt about you. But it’s nice to hear it anyway. You fall asleep fast, with a smile on your face.

I don't know if this is disgusting but sex with periods with an embarrassed girlfriend? (I see tomura being disgusting)

do i think Shigaraki is a perv and a neet? yes.

would i still let him smash? also yes.

Shigaraki With Girlfriend On Her Period

trigger warnings: period blood, period sex

other: female reader

word count: 800~

when you and Shigaraki first start having an...intimate relationship, he can't get enough of it. he's a touch starved guy, and if he thought that holding your hand or kissing (!!) you felt so fantastically great, imagine what sexual intimacy would do to him.

he wants to fuck like rabbits all the time, so any platonic or innocent contact with him ends up with you both naked and panting. i mean, what else would you expect from him? he's a young man in his twenties, who just discovered sexual pleasure, so he's going to be all over you 24/7.

you want to cuddle with your boyfriend and watch that new anime that just released? fifteen minutes in it, and you're already shaking his bed vigorously, not even pausing the show. soft kisses turn into makeout sessions, then groping over the clothes, and before you know it his head is between your legs and then it's his constantly hard dick stuffing you.

at this point in the relationship he is quite selfish, so when you stop him from going down on you, he'll be taken aback a little. do you really expect him to know what a period is? of course he has internet and Shigaraki is not dumb, but he never felt the need to know about female anatomy, what for? he heard the phrase "are you on your period?" before in a different context that lead him to think it's when the girl is moody or sad, or whatever.

he doesn't know shit about women, apart from their sexualized image from hentai or games, he thinks they're pretty much the same as guys.

so, he'll say something rude like "how's that a problem for us to fuck?" or something of the sort, only to have you stare at him like he's crazy. "what do you mean? you'll get all bloody and dirty, that's unhygienic and gross! do you not know what a period is?" by the deadpan expression on his face, you can tell that he really doesn't, so you explain it to him reluctantly.

Tomura can't help but think "is that all it is?" you have blood leaking out of your pussy, sure, that's weird as fuck, but he doesn't find it dirty of repulsive. it's not like you're unclean, you shower at least trice a day, and now he knows why, but he doesn't mind a little blood on him. after all, he already tasted you several times and you swallow his cum so generously afred sucking him off (even if he didn't take a bath), so it's only fair he does the same, right?

it's amusing to him how you cover your flushed face with your hands, telling him that it's disgusting and he'll be grossed out as he slides your panties off. the smell of blood hits his nose before he even sees it, but it's not the usual metallic smell that comes from an enemy, it's not unpleasant even. it's just different, and he doesn't hate it. he's too horny to care.

the sight of red sticky fluid smeared all over your pretty pussy makes him want to lick it off instantly, and he does just that, making you squeal in shame. you beg him to stop, saying that it's embarassing and sick, but he's so into it he's beyond listening to your pleas. he slides his tongue between your pussy lips, massaging your entrance with the tip and is astonished when more blood comes out right into his mouth, as you grunt and cry out in pleasure.

it seems like his ministrations bring you some kind of release, so he makes sure to plunge his tongue as deep into your hole as he is able to, wriggling it in and out in circular motion, lapping on your fluids mixed with blood while at it. he doesn't even notice how he starts moaning and grunting along with you, lips vibrating against your sex. Tomura realizes that he's enjoying this just as much as you are, maybe even more so.

you almost scream with relief when he sticks his dick into you, making your cramps even more bearable, hitting your womb just right, unhinging all the pent up preassure in your gut. the sight of your pussy stretching out for him, more bloody discharge coating his cock makes him feel like his splitting you in half with it. you wail and orgasm like you never did before and it's a massive ego boost for him.

he cums all over your ass and thighs, smudging blood and cum on your skin, mixing it together. he'll help you shower afterwards and maybe massage your body a little more under the hot water. just let him love you and take extra care of your puffy pussy for this week, ok baby? he can promise you'll be satisfied.

My Hero Academia - The Ultra Stage | Best of RAITA as Tomura Shigaraki (½)

bonus from the bows coz this is so fun to watch

more:

iida - 1 / 2 / 3

bakugo - 1 / 2

todoroki - 1 / 2

kirishima - 1

iidaroki/todoiida - 1 / 2

backstage - 1 / 2

Yea 💀😂 but you get the idea

What if we could lay an egg with narinder ?

Please if any developper see this, let us repopulate the lambs ! (And f*ck with narinder 👉👈)

I’ve been obsessed with thinking about being Shiggy’s favorite cam girl 😩

he always tips big! Especially when you do whatever nasty thing it is he wants, like he loves to see you on your bed spreading your cute hole for him.

oh how he wants to fuck you so bad, will he pay enough to warrant a trip to his place?

this trope is so overused and so hot, god is ashamed of how many times i've searched for it.

trigger warnings: cam girl, masturbation

other: female reader

Shigaraki never understood why so many people would pay for cam girl content when you have infinite amount of all sorts of porn online. he was browsing late at night to rub one out and go to bed when he stumbled upon your page and decided to give it a go since the site was offering the first time for free.

you were attractive enough, a cute face, a nice figure and striking eyes looking right into the camera. as soon as he tuned in he kinda got it why so many simps were willing to pay for the smallest ounce of your attention. it wasn't anything spectacular, but who cared when you were real? you weren't just some porn actress acting by a script, you were an actual alive girl talking to your subscribers and it felt thrilling.

you skillfully ignored the pathetic npcs going off in the chat, typing "let's get married" and "wanna fuck" and greeted him along with new viewers cheerfully, grabbing Tomura's attention instantly. you were sitting on a bed cross legged wearing a pink tee shirt and pair of white, almost see through cotton panties what clung to your mound, perfectly outlining your pussy lips. the shirt was a tight fit, showing off two round lumps, pert nipples poking through making it clear that you weren't wearing a bra.

Tomura watched along with hundreds of others as you rubbed and played with your tits through the fabric, never fully undressing and just teasing like you were going to. he nearly sputtered when the camera caught the first slight darkening of the pure white cloth covering your cunt as he hurried to palm his cock. you moaned and hummed with pleasure as your trailed your manicured hands down and slid your panties off, revealing your plump butt and slick folds.

your glistening lips and a groomed patch of hair looked like they would be so soft and inviting to the touch it made Tomura grunt in unison with you as he jerked his flushed cock faster. you were moaning really loud now, flicking your fingers in and out of your seeping pink hole, not caring for looking seductive; you were hot as fuck even without trying.

he came hard in less that two minutes, your gentle voice and squelchy sounds sending him straight to incel heaven. jizzing all over his keyboard and cursing at you for being such a shameless slut, he tipped you $500 right after. it was sickly exciting to see your lovely fucked out face smile at him and say "thank you, ah-! grabbyhands14, i'm so lucky to h-have a fan like you!" while still panting, fingers rubbing your engorged clit furiously.

from that point on Tomura is hooked, tipping you every other time, requesting you to wear outfits of different decency (his favorite being a sultry UA school girl uniform) or stretch your lovely cunny with a hot pink jelly dildo he sent you to see just how deep it can go (and to hear your cute cries of pleasure and pain). he loves hearing you whine and squeal about how huge it is and how it won't fit as he sweet talks you into pushing it all inside.

"you're such a good girl, taking all of my gift so well with your greedy little pussy. it looks so beautiful split open and drooling like this. here's another $1000 if you make yourself squirt on it, angel."

you have no choice but to fuck yourself stupid on this fake girthy cock.

he eventually makes Skeptic ddox you and gains all of your personal info along with your home address, then abducts you through the black mist portal. don't get him wrong, he doesn't only want to have sex with you, he actually wants to get to know you better (if it's even possible with all of his internet stalking) and become a good boyfriend for you. and what Shigaraki Tomura wants he usually gets, so relax and enjoy your new life with your most loyal fan!

"you are corrupt, false idol. your corruption has no doubt spread."

to which kori goes NUH UH

I have to confess

I have another comfort character...yes Tomura isn't the only one even if he's my fav 😂✋

I also have sundrop✨ from fnaf i can't i...such a sunshine 🥺