Fiiirst, CONGRATS ON 700!! ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜That's awesome! Can't wait to see you hit 1,000 bc you def deserve it. ♡
Now for my submission! I rolled a 5 for Style and a 2 for Wild Card for a Shigaraki x reader piece. The only squicks I have are super-underage and bodily fluids that aren't blood, spit, or cum. Everything else is fair game!
♡ @league-of-simps
you know my name: tomura x reader
submission #2 for the 777 event. thank you so much harleyyyy <3 so excited to live out my gamblin dreams thru our fav meanie (ʘ ͜ʖ ʘ)
shigaraki x reader- oneshot- 2.8k words
rolls: 5; 2 (porn with plot & casino au)
summary: tomura's losing streak in poker pisses him off. what happens when lady luck gives him an assist?
cw: 18+, mdni. fem reader, smut, doggy, kinda switch tomura, drinking, gambling. tomura is snarky, reader is worse. mutual pining hidden by poker faces. casino // hotel setting. other league members mentioned (dabi, twice, compress, spinner). the league plays poker its CANON
no beta readers: read at your own discretion! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Tomura sighs, shoving himself away from the velvet table. He doesn't know what it is tonight, maybe its the smoke cloying at his throat from the heavy cigars, maybe his tolerance has dropped below normal to the whiskey; tonight's hands have all been shit. Shit, so shit that he's debating taking his losses and going upstairs for the night.
After months of playing amateur backyard poker with the boys, fooling around with an old set of playing cards they found in a junk drawer, they decided to try and make it big. A few weeks in the gambling capital of the world oughta set them up nice for life. Cozy furnishings, a stocked liquor cabinet, and a fully furnished basement for their own underground poker ring. What a life it could be.
Professional poker against lifelong gamblers is surprisingly harder than they ever could have imagined. Perhaps Tomura was in over his head. Maybe Zen was right; maybe he is just a child. He could just stick to the family business; he and Touya combined could make out more than comfortably. Between their two respective fathers, they could amass a fortune just from their names. But Tomura didn't want to cheat. He wanted to play his own game, write his own rules- even if that meant starting at the first level. He could never leave Spinner, Atsuhiro, or Jin out of this, either. They had made out good for the past two weeks, anyway. He just had to get over the hump. It was just a rut. The tournament still had a few days to go- and if they made it this far, they'd make it to the end.
He sits on a barstool at the long marble counter. A small bartender comes, taking his order down and making it as he answers, not wasting any time. He pushes a strand of long hair from his face, taking a slow sip, his eyes falling closed for a moment.
"Boulevardier," a voice whispers in from over his shoulder. The scent of vanilla, incense, and amber envelops him through the tobacco haze, and his eyes snap open. You stand beside him, eyes raking over his suit-clad body. You can tell from one glance he's not a regular, he's not usually a drinker, and he's trying desperately to forget his last round.
"What?" He turns his head completely, his eyes glistening under the dimmed lights.
"Boulevardier. Dee-ay. Not Boulevard-er. It's an E-A sound. You butchered your pronunciation".
He takes a moment, nodding. "Thanks," he mutters, turning back to the bar.
"I'm just saying- if you don't want them to know you're a rookie-"
"I'm not," He snaps back, face flat. "Who even are you?" His voice is sharp, but curious still as you swirl your drink.
Your eyes dance on his crooked tie, his pale face humming with displeasure. You reach your hand out to him, nails manicured and fingers steady. "Just a spectator," you smile softly. He looks down at your hand for a brief moment before taking it, pressing a chaste kiss to your soft fingers. His lips are warm, slightly rough against your knuckles. You speak again, his eyes less sharp now as he takes another swig from his glass. "Your tie is crooked".
He rolls his eyes, but it's nothing more than a facade. You lean into him, adjusting the silky red material before tugging at it briefly, his eyes following you in awe. Strands of cornflower blue frame his face as it comes loose from what used to be a neat ponytail.
You had been watching him play for a few nights. It wasn’t often you were here, but the time you spent had paid off, as crimson eyes now look over you slowly. You can feel his gaze hanging on you like a bee to honey, clinging to you as if you’ll disappear from sight. He doesn’t say a word as you both sit beside each other now, sipping from your glasses respectively. The silence between you hangs thickly, webbing the two of you together. His pretty face remains flat, but you can catch the glimmer of curiosity in his gaze every few seconds.
He goes to speak, maybe to ask your name, or your deal, when the next round starts, and Touya waves him over. You can see the tall man in your peripheral vision, thick black hair pulled into a half-up bun, piercing blue eyes that feel like ice running down your spine. You knew all their names by the second night of watching– and you knew their story by the third.
Tomura stands, grabbing his glass. He turns to speak to you again, but you silently lace your arm under his, his cheeks flushing pink as you walk back to the table with him. Touya's face shifts, teeth baring at the sight. “Got a date there, Tomura?”
Tomura makes a cut-throat motion, urging Touya to stop. His cheeks are flushed, but maybe it’s just warm in here.
He pulls out a chair for you, and you sit beside him as the hand is dealt. Like every other night, you don't join, you simply watch. This time, though, you get to watch front and center, your arms brushing against each other gently. You lean into his ear, whispering to him, "If you win this round, you'll know my name".
He chuckles, brows furrowed at the idea. His slender fingers curl around his glass, and he mumbles out "Deal" as your glasses collide. He wasn’t exactly the type to turn down a bet.
By default, he has a good hand. The round plays as usual, until the last stifling few minutes, tensions rising as Tomura's red eyes shift to his hand. It's only him and one other person— soem stuffy-looking man in an all-white suit and dark eyes.
"Raise," says the man across the table. He slides a pile of chips in— a three-thousand-dollar raise from the original pot. Tomura smiles ever-so-subtly as he nods. "I'll call". He slides his stack of chips into the pot.
The man across plays his hand, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "Full house," he boasts loudly, beady eyes shining. Tomura nods slowly, eyes shifting around. He leans back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. Every move he makes is calculated, deceitful. There’s something powerful about him, but you can’t quite put a finger on it.
The dealer waits patiently, arms crossed tightly against his chest. Tomura lowers his voice, dragging out his alleged defeat. "Okay..." faux trepidation coats his tongue as he lowers his head slightly before extending his arm out. He tosses his cards out in front of him, masking his grin. The man in white smiles and laughs preemptively, reaching for the stack of chips. The dealer puts his arm out, waiting for Tomura to make the announcement.
Touya smiles as he shakes his head, Spinner claps his hands together almost as if to pray. You lean over Tomura's shoulder again and press a gentle kiss to his ear before whispering your name to him. The man in white slams his fist on the table, and the dealer bows slightly to Tomura while holding a hand out to stop the others.
“Good job, rookie”. His ears heat at your touch, and the rest of the men surrounding watch. He takes the rest of his drink in one go, and your hand rests gently on his thigh.
As the night progresses, he grows more impatient. Every round is a win for him or the boys, their victories painting their faces with insatiability before last call is announced. By the time the game is cut for the night, Tomura has gained increasing levels of incentive to win more. A bite on his neck, a pinch to his hip, a breathy promise in his ear. By the end of the night, his slacks were tight, and his curiosity was piqued.
He drags you out of the casino with a firm hand on your hip, barely hiding his frustrations from the incessant teasing. He walks fast, pushing you into his hotel room and clicking the lock in one movement. There's no time to speak or even remove your shoes before he's smashing his lips onto yours, breathy and full of want.
Tomura’s lips are softer than the kiss he placed on your hand earlier, despite his hungry kisses. You slip your tongue between them, tasting the whiskey on his breath. He presses into your mouth desperately, every movement sending pricks of electricity through your bones.
Your arms wrap around his neck, undoing his hair. It cascades down his shoulders, the scent of orange-vanilla curtaining around you, his long fingers gripping your jaw. You two continue stepping back, almost dancing around the room as he presses you to the bed, you land softly under his arm, cradling your lower back. He kisses down your jaw, across your bare collarbones, slipping the strap of your dress down to expose more of you. His hands move feverishly, gripping into soft skin, curves melting between his fingers. You pull at his tie, and he yanks it off, tossing it aside as your hands nimbly undo the buttons of his shirt, his face dark with heat. He can't stop himself from kissing you again, he can't be patient anymore– he tears the rest of his shirt off and pulls it off, leaving his bare chest and torso open now.
Soft marbled muscle carves his body, something you hadn't seen under the expensive-looking suit and tie. A few scars drape over his creamy skin like brush strokes, and you feel your eyes melt over his entire image. As he hovers over you, you watch his biceps flex, his shoulders twitching every time he lowers himself down to kiss another part of you. You run your hands down his body, dragging against the tuft of soft blue hair below his navel, and you can feel his cock twitching against your thigh as your fingers near.
He mumbles your name like a hymn in your ear as you undo his belt, his arms already shaking. His breaths collect against the crook of your neck as he slides more of your dress down, the slippery material slipping off your legs like water, leaving you completely bare. His breath hitches, and he bites into your thigh without warning, causing you to gasp out in shock.
His pants are only half undone as he shoves them off along with his boxers, not wasting any more time as his cock springs free, tapping up against his stomach as it weeps. His fingers lace into yours as he pins your arms above your head, leaving rosy marks on your neck as he sucks and nips at it.
"Fuck," he drives himself into your hip, then adjusts himself between your legs. Your head falls back into the pillowy mattress as he rubs the head of his cock into your swollen clit, but he retreats slowly and gets on his knees in front of you. His lips are slightly parted, his chest rising quickly as lowers himself between your legs, lifting under your thighs and placing them on his shoulders. Your hands tangle in his soft blue waves as his tongue darts between your folds, his moaning following immediately after tasting you. His nose presses into your clit as he dips his tongue inside of you, his name falling from your lips softly.
Tomura's fingers grip into the flesh of your thighs as he buckles down, devouring like he had been starved his entire life. His teeth nip at your skin, he rolls the bud of sensitive nerves between them with his tongue, drinking down your sweetness with muffled moans and whimpers. The muscles in his back shift each time he grinds against the mattress, already dangerously close to making a mess of the duvet.
The numbing heat in the pit of your stomach tightens, pulling like a tight cord. Tomura's moans doubled with his frantic licking are enough to do you in, and the cord snaps. Your hands grip at his hair, pulling him into you as if he could get any closer, and you grind yourself into his mouth. He whimpers loudly, swallowing hard as he laps up every drop of you.
You try to push him away as his tongue flickers across your pussy, but he resists with a greedy smile. His breathing is hot and fast against your overstimulated clit, and you tug his hair more and more to get him to pull away. He growls, gripping into your thighs tightly before pulling away from you and flipping you over with deceptive amounts of strength. He pushes your face into the pillows, positioning you like a doll, legs spread wide and cunt dripping onto the duvet. He shivers as he lines himself up, keeping one hand on your lower back, pressing you down. He grabs his tie, shoving it into your mouth with two fingers, grabbing at your soft cheeks. His previous pathetic worshipping has since been replaced with a sadistic grin and a low voice. "The quieter you are, the faster I'll go, okay?"
You nod, eyes squeezing shut as he shoves himself into you tightly. You bite down on the silk tie as he stretches you out, that same heated coil inside of you building back up. He bottoms out, knees wobbling as you grip around his cock like a vice, but he steadies himself again, thrusting slowly. You whimper, the tie forcing you to breathe slowly and deeply.
"I wanna keep you forever," he starts, panting as he thrusts in and out of you rhythmically. "You're good luck, fuck-" he throws his head back. "You're so fucking tight", he says as he gets faster, hitting right against your spot with every movement.
You moan, and he slows down. "Nuh-uh". You can't speak, you can't make a sound without him slowing back down. He keeps talking, his voice thick with craving.
"You're gonna be my good luck charm, hm?" He slowly increases his pace again. "You're so pretty, you're so fucking- fuck, you're so pretty".
The man you had set your eyes on seemed timid, gentle, and nervous. The man laying into you right now was none of those things. He was filthy, depraved, and beautiful, fingers digging into you, as if you would ever choose to leave. Your body trembles, your eyes water, and your face feels feverish. His saccharine words drip from his mouth like honey while his hands roam over you. He grabs a handful of your tits, holding onto you close as he pounds you from behind. "Mine," he declares in your ear. "You're all mine now".
Tomura's cock sputters as he gets closer, and you can feel his thrusts get thrown off with the wave of building euphoria. Your orgasm is suffocatingly close, and he yanks the tie from your mouth. "Need to hear you," his pleading returns as he jerks rapidly into you. You take a deep, shuddering breath, reaching your hand between your legs to your neglected clit, rubbing at it. His whines and moans are getting louder, raspy and sweet-sounding. You tighten further around him, causing him to lose himself completely, and he cums, hard. His cock twitches inside of you as it coats you in sticky pearls of cum, the warmth enough to cause you to cum just as hard. His hips buckle, and your chest heaves while you both cry out for each other, the pillow beneath you tear-stained and smudged with mascara.
He peppers kisses down your spine, rocking slowly into you in the after-shock of his orgasm, mumbling the sweetest words. You flip over, and he smooths the hair out of your face gently, keeping himself inside of you, still half-hard. You trace down his chest, catching your breath as you admire him above you. He pulls out slowly, wrapping his arms around you like a prize. "Lucky" he repeats to you, blinking slowly. You soften at the sound of his voice, tired and fulfilled.
"I'll help you win tomorrow, too" you whisper to him as you kiss his nose, and he grins through the exhaustion.
"You don't have a choice now. You're mine". He sighs contentedly, stretching out on the bed. "I wasn't lying".
Your chest tightens, womb fluttering with the idea. "And what happens when you leave?"
He turns to you, thin brows furrowed. "You follow me".
dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics
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