the art of flustering tomura shigaraki was something you considered to be sacred. your boss was a difficult man to distract, so the fact that you have him acting like this is nothing short of embarrassing.
for starters, tomura's pale skin works wonders against him—if you so much as brush against him while passing by, his cheekbones are blooming pink before he knows it with his voice getting all high and cracked around the edges. his hands become clammy and twitchy at his sides—fighting between tearing all the hair off his head and reaching out to touch you once more
his gaze bounces around the room often, too. and he'll find himself tripping over his own words. forget embarrassing—the way you have tomura acting up is downright humiliating. he hates that another person can have this much control over him so effortlessly. so, he devises a plan.
you're lounging on one of the couches in the hideout, body draped over the edge of the seat as you hang upside down and play some video game on your phone. tomura approaches you with his usual scowl and furrowed brows, and you tilt your head when you see him approach you
"hey, boss." you greet
"i need you to slap me. right now."
you blink slowly before a grin overtakes your face. sitting up, you swing your legs forward and rest your cheek against your fist with an intrigued giggle
"where's this coming from? something happen orrr?" you question curiously as tomura sighs impatiently
"i've had enough of you distracting me every single hour of the day. you're so annoying it makes me want to turn you to dust—you're lucky you're a valuable asset to the team or i would have done it a long time ago. now, the sooner you reject me or do something that pisses me off, the sooner i'll be able to get you out of my head and focus on more important things."
you hum, lips curling upwards at his words before you tap your chin in thought. tomura squirms uncomfortably in front of you—he's never had a problem with speaking his mind before, but he basically just admitted he was so attracted to you that he couldn't get you out of his head—and, well, that's embarrassing for anyone to admit, right?
"well, let's think about this. for starters, what if you're into it? i dunno boss man, you are pretty weird... you might discover something about yourself if i slap you and you like it. some guys enjoy degrading stuff like that, you know?" you grin cheekily, and tomura's ruby eyes widen to near comical size as he stupidly sputters for a response
"w-what the fuck?! no, i'd be fucking pissed if you slapped me! it'd make me hate you, not—"
"well, if it makes you hate me, won't i still be on your mind and distracting you? hatred is an intense feeling, after all. that won't help you focus on your work, now would it?" you tease, leaning closer as tomura's ears go pink. he clenches his fist tightly, blunt fingertips digging crescent moons into the palm of his hand, before he looks away begrudgingly.
"whatever then. reject me. tell me the truth. tell me i'm disgusting and tell me you'd rather die than be with someone like me. that might lessen my attraction for you." he says firmly, glaring at you with nothing but irritation in his eyes as you frown
"but i don't want to be mean to you. you're a great boss!" you whine playfully, reaching out to poke tomura's cheek as he swats your hand away with a grunt
"shut up. just tell me you don't like me so i can go back to living my life without your stupid smile taking up every single one of my thoughts."
your eyes soften at that, and so does your smile. you lean back into the couch as you hold tomura's gaze, and he sits there unwavering. did he seriously think he was that unlikeable? you were unbelievably fond of him, and the fact that tomura found himself so unlovable was... really sad. you know your boss hates pity, so you mask your sadness with a grin
"ahh, but who said i didn't like you back?"
dead silence. tomura freezes—and you watch the gears turn in his head in real time. he leans back, whole body gone slack as he stares at you in disbelief, searching for lies—but he can't find any. your expression is as sincere as ever.
"...what?" he croaks
you can't stop the small huff of laughter that slips past your lips as you reach out and gently tap tomura's chest—specifically the spot right over his heart
"i said i like you, you idiot. you're an enigma, but i like you regardless. or, rather, i like you because of it. anyway, i think we should totally date! i'll be a great partner—and i bet the relief of knowing i'm all yours will let you focus on your work more. it seems like that is the only solution we have to this crisis!" you sigh dramatically, and your smile is so bright and beautiful that tomura feels his breath physically catch in his throat
"you're crazy," he breathes, heart beating erratically as he watches you reach for his hand—your fingers dance over his palm, tracing the lines of it with a gentleness he found near ticklish as you shrugged
"maybe. but so are you. you in?" you question
"...you mean with dating you?"
"yup!"
tomura wonders for a moment if he's dreaming
"i—well—there's not—i don't—we—"
"i'll take that as a yes!"
you lean forward, lips pressing a chaste kiss onto his cheek as tomura sits there slack jawed. you're up a second later, faster than he can process, before you're bounding towards the door with your phone in hand
"bye bye, tomura! come sleep in my room upstairs tonight, 'kay? i'll leave the door unlockeddd!" you singsong before disappearing—and tomura stares blankly at the now empty doorway in absolute disbelief. his hand cradles the cheek you just kissed, and it feels like his whole body is on fire.
"...what the fuck..." he whispers incredulously, but despite it all, he feels the heavy weight on his chest finally ebb and flow away—because holy shit, you like him back.
spoiler alerttttt he gives in and ends up visiting your room with a pillow under his arm and demanding a proper do-over of your first kiss <3 <3 <3
thinking about 𝓣. 𝓢higaraki teasing his gf with his quirk …
cw: 18+, nsfw, fingering, teasing, quirk-related, established relationship
synopsis: basically shigaraki bullying you, making it seem like he’ll use his quirk on you.
a/n 💬: thought about this whilst writing other asks, don’t get mad, ok ??? i was also thinking about attempting multis… i dunno tho.
you whined, squirming as shigaraki’s fingers worked you over, his smirk widening at your reaction.
“tomura!—“ you gasped, hips jerking when he pressed down with all four fingers, just barely avoiding his fifth.
“hmm? something wrong?” he taunted, leaning closer, lips brushing your ear. “what if…my finger… slips?” his pinky hovered teasingly, making you shiver.
“d-don’t you dare, tomura shi—” you gasped out as he suddenly moves his fingers.
he laughed, low and mean, before finally letting his thumb take its rightful place, dragging a ragged moan from you instead of dust.
tomura leaned closer, his breath hot against your neck. his touch was both intimate and sadistic, “you’re cute when you’re scared, y’know?” he murmured, lips grazing the shell of your ear.
“so desperate. so helpless.” he punctuated his words with another press, making your body arch again.
“ngh— fuck…” you whimpered, heart hammering in your chest. he was playing a dangerous game, and it was far too intoxicating.
“tomura, please…” you whined, the words barely audible.
he grinned. “please what?” his voice was low, mocking. “please stop? or—” his fingers deepened, making you gasp. “—or please continue?”
you were too busy moaning and clenching around him to respond. he took a moment to appreciate the sight before leaning down to kiss your neck, your body trembling and flushed beneath his touch.
“you’re so damn easy to toy with,” he said, almost admiring. “one touch and you’re a mess.”
you could feel his smile against your skin. “so responsive, too,” he purred, fingers circling your clit. “i can feel every little twitch, every little gasp…”
he pressed harder and you cried out, hips bucking. “m-more, tomura,” you nipped at your bottom lip, panting.
“yeah?” his pinky hovered again, edging closer. “more fingers?”
“fuck— no! stop—” you whined, hitting at him weakly.
“relax,” he chuckled. “i won’t disintegrate you. not yet, anyway.”
his fingers sped up, curling just right, hitting that sweet spot inside you. “i just wanna see you come apart on my fingers…” he grins, feeling your body reach it’s limit.
you moan loudly for the last time as your body tensed, walls clamping down as you came hard with a broken moan.
tomura smirked now at the feeling of you shuddering around him. he didn’t stop, stroking you through it until you were shaking and whimpering.
“feels good, right?” he said softly. “you did so well. such a good girl for me.”
he slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean, savoring the taste.
“yum,” he purred, his hard dick obvious beneath the fabric of his pants. “i think… i need a proper taste, though. don’t you agree?”
before you could respond, he was already moving— settling between your thighs.
Synopsis: You find yourself stranded in one hell of a sexist environment: the small town's internet café. Shigaraki's on the night shift. (3.6k)
Warnings: sex with Shiggy basically, mild degradation and misogyny from our fav incel, dom!Shiggy with a twist (no quirk obviously), use of “dollface” (i like it)
A/N: No dark themes here, peace n luv. Also.. yeah he is always linked to some gaming/electronic business ik!! but I like the trope/hc/almost canon.
You'd never imagine this was how your night would end.
Why are you there again? Right, your friends wanted to go to that after party, as if the club wasn't enough. What was supposed to be a night out ended up with you in the local internet café (the only after hours spot) while your friends decided to go to a house party with loud techno music, which definitely wasn’t your vibe. You and your friends lived close and would often call a taxi on your way home, money wasn’t enough for you to ride solo today though—you prayed in times like these that you at least had a job; you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone then.
You knew pretty much everyone there, it’s not like the town had more than ten thousand residents and considering the age group and schools you’d all gone to, the internet café only had a few unknown members. On today’s shift was none other than Tomura of course, that guy was taking up as many shifts as his body would allow him to, apparently there was this rumor a family member was in crucial condition and they were in need. Tomura Shigaraki was one of these people you had branded as incel. Though hardworking (he kept a house of his own, cleaning and doing all chores by himself while providing for whomever he had), you still considered the guy as one. Now—you know the term is heavy, matter of fact, quite offending and serious as an allegation but it’s not like there weren’t rumors. Rumors he’d bash women and call them prostitutes, try to sleep with girls and trash them to his friends a day later, hating them for anything they did and claiming true love didn’t exist nowadays because “all women are sluts, who need money and validation.” Plus, he worked at the local internet café (should be enough reason), engaging in heated conversations with his friends and fellow streamers. God, one look in their chats and you'd get as violent as possible— (not much, you'd discovered it the hard way). Thus, it was no surprise that when you enter the place, you hear whispers and scoffs.
‘’The hell are you doing here?’’ A voice was heard from within, the café had the computer screens up front, a bar and a couch with TV in the back. Tomura was occupied in the designated bar the place had (you often wondered what kind of needs these people had—all they ever consumed was energy drinks and pre-packaged meals, takeouts were for reasons of competitive market prohibited).
‘’Just dropping by for a couple of hours, will leave soon.’’ You sigh as you take a seat on the couch, not bothering to talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Loud noise and laughter can be heard all around, a couple of guys swearing and some younger boys excitedly standing above their screens. The store had a 16+ policy, but of course, no one ever checked so kids could practically stare unattended. Tomura also encouraged younger boys to play, such a piece of shit, you think, getting them to learn young.
‘’Oh my fucking God, a slut just joined!’’ You hear some guy swear, presumably because a girl joined their online server. These guys were so disgusting, you cringe, it was no wonder they were celibate without wanting it. You stand up, you need to kill some time and you're feeling bored, you think about starting a fight with Tomura, how else could you have a little bit of fun?
You weren’t ever necessarily afraid of the guy, even though you had to admit, he looked intimidating. Quite tall with a pale complexion, ashy, dull hair and scars across his face; no one actually knew much about him and whether he was troubled, it’s not like he ever showed to work beaten up or high and usually kept a low profile. The only frightening thing this man had was his smile, it terrified you sometimes as it looked downright evil.
‘’Getting them to learn young, huh?’’ You ask him, he’s washing up some cups from the previous round of gross gaming guys, who have now left.
‘’What?’’ He responds, not bothering to look up.
‘’How to not get women, I mean.’’ You sigh as he huffs in annoyance.
‘’You should be grateful I let a female in my store in the first place.’’ He retorts, but doesn’t seem very angry, just ironic. Usual.
My store (you decide to skip over 'female') sounds funny but you choose not to comment on it.
‘’So how long until you guys close?’’ You don't bother with the vocabulary—it’s routine at this point. It also never ends well and you had a great night so far, why ruin it now?
‘’Two hours.’’
‘’Mind if I sit on the couch? I’ll be quiet I promise’’ You ask—technically beg, as you see no other options.
‘’Ugh.. yeah I mind. There’s some guys wanting to use it, I have a group for GTA on the PS5.’’
‘’Seriously? People still play that?’’ You whine but force yourself to continue.
‘’Can I sit with you then?’’ It takes strength—but you say it regardless. You came to terms with the fact he was your last resort minutes ago.
‘’Sure. But you need to make yourself useful. Here, take this.’’ He hands you a wet sponge, ‘’Wash these up... carefully, while I go clean the floors.’’ He orders, as if you’re part of the staff (and new on the job apparently.)
‘’Do you actually want me to wash freaking dishes? I just came here to chill, I don’t even bother anyone!’’ You start feeling annoyed with the chores, you aren’t 16 and he isn’t your mom.
‘’You can always leave.’’ The running tap stops and he turns to you, practically shoving the wet gloves on your chest.
‘’Or...you can stop being a brat and be of use during your stay, I have two hours left.’’ He smiles, that same smile that makes your skin crawl and blood boil as he moves away.
‘’Fuck! My dress, you asshole!’’ A wet patch now covers the too short dress as you glance at the time on your phone.
Two hours. Two hours until your friends leave and he closes up anyway.
-
Tomura was at least true to his words. Within two insufferable hours of having to listen to appalling conversations between men (hardly to be considered as such), plate washing and the toilet being constantly occupied, the last customers get up to leave.
You dry your hands and plop down the couch exhausted.
‘’Finally.’’ You exhale checking your phone, your friends hadn’t given you any life signs in the meantime, so you decide to patiently wait, they’d message eventually. Tomura is done sweeping the nasty floors from crumbs and dried Monster remnants, which he still has to mop (for the fourth time, you note and you've only been there some hours). You notice how restless he seems—the guy has been running the whole night after ignorant customers, who had not once shown basic respect for the order of the place yet never complained. Truly a shame he has such a misogynistic mindset, you think. He could get women, if he wanted to.
It’s around 6:30 AM, when he presses a button to close the store's roll-up shutters halfway. Small light outside makes its way in but the place is still relatively dark, as he places the mop near the wall and takes a seat next to you.
‘’Fuuck, I’m so tired.’’ He sighs, making sure to spread his legs on the couch as much as he can, not caring (of course) about you also sitting on it.
You always branded Tomura as an incel, that you knew about. But despite that, you now can’t help but feel for him, not knowing much about him at the same time. Sure, he technically isn’t the nicest guy but a look around would show you that he tries enough for a job kicking his ass. You find yourself sympathizing with a man, whose ideals you hate and try to brush these thoughts off.
‘’And why the fuck am I an incel anyway?’’ He asks, his head rests on the couch and his eyes are closed, he is scrunching severely—almost threatening to fall down. And he manspreads. A lot.
‘’W-well– I..’’ You never thought he’d caught on to that, stammering to stand your ground as you continue. ‘’Well, there have been rumors about you.’’ You say, but it doesn’t come off as confident as you’d hoped for. You also realize, it sounds kind of stupid.
‘’Reaaally? And you made sure to believe them, right?’’ His tone’s laced with irony but the way he talks like he whispers in a raspy voice doesn't annoy you anymore. It makes you more... uncomfortable? On the edge? Excited?...what?
‘’It’s not like you don’t claim it yourself.’’ You retort, finally finding some courage. You notice him looking at you as you awkwardly shuffle in your seat.
‘’All I’ve ever said was that I think women are good for nothing. And I still believe that, but I wouldn’t waste more of my time on that.’’ The statement makes you roll your eyes.
‘’How can you generalize a whole group of people, who are literally in no way inferior to you, you can’t tell me you’ve tried—’’
‘’Listen dollface, unless you want to change my mind there’s no reason to fuss that much, my opinion won’t change.’’
Unless you want to change my mind?
‘’I-I don’t.’’ You stammer, because the answer and pet name (dollface??) takes you by surprise and he laughs.
‘’Relax, you branded me an incel.’’ He jokes, ‘’don’t want the rape allegations on me too.’’
The more he talks, the more your mind races and you curse yourself. He seems..funny? He has a mole under his lips—fuck, it looks cute...He also looks good so (stupid as it is, yes!) you silently want his attention. Why can’t he just look you in the eyes more?
This is so wrong. He must've noticed your lost gaze as he speaks up.
‘’Wanna watch a movie?’’ He proposes and you nod, anything is better than the silence hanging in the air. Silence you caused. For thinking... things about him.
Of course Tomura ends up choosing the most depressing film anyone can possibly watch in an internet café at 6 AM, Fallen Angels, and the dramatic cuts make it hard for you to concentrate. He at a certain point leans closer to you but you justify it, how else would he be able to see?
During this one scene, the woman pleasured herself with her legs closed, rubbing together and that’s when you feel a soft hand touch on your thigh. The dress you wore rode up, because your legs rested on the table ahead so it gave him the space he needed. The movement made you tingle and your core involuntarily contracted. The smooth fingers teasingly trailed up and down your leg, from your knees to your inner thighs. You didn’t want to look at him—he was too close and the scene seemed endless. But…he went on about it as if nothing was happening.
Without saying a word, he carried on. A pad of his finger tip dangerously close to your now heated entrance, the images flashing before your eyes lewd, his hand tempting and threatening to reach your already soaked cunt—all this while the two of you hadn’t even shared a kiss. But he doesn't stop, looking ahead and acting like everything’s fine, until he touches your lower lips and you hiss, his finger traces the wet spot over your underwear while you try to move and speak up.
‘’W–what are y—’’
‘’Shh..’’ is all he says.
You want to tell him no. But no to what? You like the feeling of his two fingers against your folds. His palm moves your panties to the side and he stuffs them inside—they dampen from the fluids. How is he that quick? You can’t form a response but you’re about to ask him why—
‘’All that and I haven’t even kissed you.’’ He murmurs, gaze still fixated on the television ahead as you moan, when he slowly pumps them within your walls. Fuck, are you turned on by this?
‘’P-please..’’ You whisper, turning to look at him and for the first time, his eyes are removed from the stupid TV, a sly smile on his features as he tears away his hand.
‘’What is it? Want the incel to kiss you? Maybe even fuck you to prove a point?’’ He says and you frown.
‘’I—no, I have to go.’’ You get up, fixing (lowering) your dress—you have nowhere to go but you’ll figure it out eventually. You think staying longer only plays into his cruel intentions and whilst you can’t deny the pleasure he could give you, your pride’s in the way.
‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’ A wet hand clasps around your wrist and brings you on his lap, as he grins; you seem confused at the sensation. You are hiding the TV screen but he couldn't care less, he never paid attention to the movie.
‘’Feel the stain you left, too?’’ He says as he brings your face closer with the sticky palm grabbing you by the hair. You softly moan, noticing the small mole up close and feeling a bulge poke where your bodies meet. You sway your hips in a silent effort to have him initiate a kiss, you feel desperate and curse yourself again internally. He can only smile.
(You were so clueless, walking around in that slutty dress earlier—making him hard like that, did you even know it?)
He’s quick to kiss you, eager for more already, as mouths clash, teeth collide, the need you both have exceeds proper manners. You sloppily grind against him, the friction from a long outline beneath you makes it hard to think.
‘’I’m guessing, you’re really fucking the incel then.’’ He half smirks as he grabs you and repositions you to sit on his now fully hard cock that throbs in his pants; he lifts your dress above your ass and guides your hips sluggishly back and forth—he’s tormenting you and he enjoys it to the fullest.
‘’T-tomura..p-please.’’ You whine, the urge to have him inside you makes you blabber.
‘’Please what?’’ He slides a hand behind your waist, lowering it to find your slit from behind, his fingers pet your cunt and you moan. Loudly. He is tugging at your panties, the fabric annoys him and he wants full access and the words. The words to prove his point.
‘’P–please...fuck me already!’’ You breathe out and he groans to the sound of your voice.
The ironic remark he prepared evaporates as he quickly pushes you back, just enough to not fall off his lap and quickly unzips his pants, thanking god for not wearing a belt.
His pants and underwear are sloppily moved down his knees, as his cock jumps with a pop on his lower abdomen, stiff with a weeping tip. Pretty veins throb around it as your eyes widen.
Shit, he’s big, can you take him?
‘’I’d ask for a nice blowjob, dollface, but wouldn’t want the feminists after me.’’ He says as he brings you close, kissing you yet again, a string of spit runs down your jaw, as your hands roam his tangled, uncombed hair.
He positions you on his cock, one hand snakes around your waist while the other one clings to the back of your scalp and you’re swiftly lifted by the head and pushed down on him, as you let out a scream.
‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ He hisses, quickly looking around, the sensation from almost his whole length makes you tremble, he feels too full, too painful...too good.
‘’Shit, c’mon now you got this.’’ He encourages as you hesitantly move up and down his cock, gripping his shoulders and looking at him; he seems more concentrated on the sensation than your body, staring at you while you wrap around his length.
‘’Fuck...dollface, this too much for ya?’’ He tries not to grunt and you give your best not to cry, each moment that goes by turning the initial pain to pleasure—your cunt adjusts slowly and bit by bit to his girth.
‘’T-tomura... y-yes..it’s too much!’’ You whine, sweat forms in your forehead as his hand finds your swollen clit and circles it while your nails dig deeper in his shirt.
‘’You can take it.’’ He says, he feels you squeezing him in, you bounce with dedication on his legs, making the couch squeak as if on some sex tape—you want to bring yourself even closer. So nasty, aren't you? Acting righteous, only to fuck yourself on his cock like a desperate whore.
‘’I-ugh-p-please..’’ You try to speak but he secures his hand around your torso and sinks (lower than before) down the couch. Two strong hands force you to stay still in the air while he drills himself into you at a steady pace, kind of sloppily too. Both of you moan, the position gives equal pleasure, your clit bumps on his groin and his cock reaches your g-spot with ease.
‘’S–Shit, you’re squeezing way too much, haven’t you been fucked like this before?’’ He sounds annoyed but the stammer in his voice betrays him.
Not like this, you want to say but can’t really speak the words. Your weight falls entirely on him, he doesn’t mind one bit—he loves it actually, this skin on skin contact as he guides you on his cock, it feels surreal. He hits soft and spongy spots inside while you slowly fall apart.
‘’T-Tomura right there..I ugh—I'm close!’’ The sensation overwhelms you, his eyes are still fixated on your face, yeah I can tell, he thinks. He gets off on your desperation, mouth parted all for him? Your eyes threaten to spill by the way he tears apart your cunt and morals bit by bit.. it’s–
‘’Tomura, aren't you closing yet?’’ Someone asks from outside, interrupting the moment. The shutters only reveal a pair of shoes.
‘’Yeah, I’m on it.’’ Shigaraki stops composed, cockwarming you in a funny way, while a hand, his hand covers your mouth. Your eyes widen as slick trickles down his thighs in silence.
‘’Alright, see you then.’’ The man leaves and he cusses him out. (''Cunt.'')
‘’We’re not done.’’ He turns his attention back to you and seizes your face, bringing your mouth closer.
‘’Open up.’’ He orders and you do, clenching around him in anticipation.
He spits in it and closes the gap with his index finger.
‘’Swallow or I won’t continue.’’ You quickly gulp down.
‘’So obedient all of a sudden, aren't you?’’ Sarcasm evident as he gives your ass a solid hit, before starting to get back on his pace, only more rough this time, he longs for your release on him. You’re moving up and down his length, trying to grab anything accessible really, his hair, the back of the couch, under his shirt and you feel your orgasm resurface stronger; the delay highlighted all of your senses.
‘’T-Tomura—’’ You shudder, as his cock hits your g-spot expertly–fuck, this guy wasn't some incel–and your swollen clit has to brush one last time past his groin before you feel an overwhelming orgasm take over. You clamp down his length and moan embarrassingly (Fuck Tomura! I–I'm...too good!) This time he lets you, he needs to hear this.
‘’Fuuck—agh, look at you dollface.’’ He hums, a feminist creaming herself on my cock, he wants to add but it’s too many words and you just came so he wastes no time. He brings your neck close to his mouth and bites on it, teeth sink into your flesh and hands force you all the way down. His cum spills inside and he groans, trying to stifle his moans by biting down the sensitive skin even harder.
And fuck if that isn’t hot.
He keeps you on him, arms fasten around your waist with cum dripping onto his lowered pants but neither of you bother to care; ragged breaths and the sounds of the film still playing are audible as more light enters through the rolled shutters.
God must’ve been on your side that day because a message appears on your screen moments after you both wordlessly got up and cleaned yourselves in the bathroom. Tomura would have to clean again, you think, as the message on your phone signals your time to leave.
You turn to look at him, he has removed his shirt and small nail scratches decorate his pale back and you..smile. What the hell? Was this..? Oh no—You try to find an appropriate goodbye.
See you soon? Thanks for the mind blowing dick? You aren’t the incel I thought you were? Everything seems embarrassing at present time.
‘’I-I’ll be seeing you soon.’’ You opt for that, stupid as it is, you still look at him in anticipation. He turns to you, hands on the mop cleaning near the couch and nods.
Great, you think, that was a disaster. You defeatedly walk (actually stoop to get past the almost closed door) feeling like a hooker after a client, miserable and kind of used. This is always the worst part.
You feel an arm touch your shoulder, you’ve only taken a few steps in the daylight.
‘’Take this in case you revoke your incel statement.’’
Tomura hands you a piece of paper and quickly disappears behind the store’s shadows.
the three of you decided to move in together to save on rent during your sidekick residencies (when you were making little to no money)
it’s a two bedroom apartment, so you get your own and touya and tenko have to share (they have a bunk bed <3)
the three of you fist fight for the bathroom because there’s only one. it gets vicious.
sometimes when the todoroki house is especially unbearable, shoto will spend the night! you and tenko are like honorary older siblings to him
unless you’re a good (and willing) cook, half your collective paychecks go towards ordering food. neither touya nor tenko are very good cooks beyond incredibly basic dishes — and more than that, they’re lazy. your place is constantly littered with takeout boxes and receipts
if you can cook, you’re their saving grace! however, they will abuse your services <3 although they have plenty of ways to repay you (their words, not mine. make of that what you will.)
thursday night game night is brutal. mario kart and uno will have you three not speaking for DAYS
just dance is also in the rotation. you and touya are decent (though touya is ultra-competitive and kind of flamboyant with it), but tenko can’t dance for shit. it’s the only game he’s bad at and the two of you never let him live that down
the three of you try to get patrol hours together when you can but if not you’ll just text each other memes during your free time
your groupchat is a mess. unspeakable crimes in there. if it were ever leaked your lives would be over.
every time you go grocery shopping, every time without fail one of you forgets something. bagels but no cream cheese, out of bread for the next week, left the grapes in the cereal aisle, etc etc
you get a lot of noise complaints from your neighbors but the three of you always pull the hero card whenever you get in trouble
“we’re out here risking our lives for your safety and wellbeing and you have the audacity to complain about our music????!!!”
your landlord hates you three
dividers by @/yuppijin — think i would actually kms if i had to live with Men like this but that’s the beauty of fanfic <33
The room was dark, the faint blue of Tomura’s monitor in the background being the only thing to light up the room. Its blue light casted an ethereal shine over your head, lighting up your hair and parts of your face with its blue hue.
Your right hand laid gently on his thigh, gently rubbing small circles with your thumb against his pale skin while your left hand slowly stroked his cock. Your lips were wrapped around the tip, sucking slowly and softly as you bobbed your head up and down on his shaft.
Tomura was sitting back on his bed, his eyes lidded as he gently ran a hand through your hair. He could see your lashes flutter with each bob of your head, your lips suctioning against his leaky cockhead and softly sucking up whatever spurt of pre-cum he released.
Soft pants escaped him as your head moved at a leisure pace, the hand gently running through your hair never once pressured you into going faster. Deeper.
No. No, how could he? How could he ruin such an intimate moment between the two of you, for his own selfish desires? He wondered when he had become so…caring over you. When did he begin to care about your pleasure as well? He doesn’t remember.
But it doesn’t bother him. It doesn’t bother him because now your pleasure is his. And if you find pleasure in slowly pleasing him like this, taking him in your mouth because you wanted to, then who is he to deny you?
And when you pull away from his cock, strings of saliva connecting your lips to him, he doesn’t dare close his eyes. Not when you gently pull back the hood of his foreskin, and not when you slowly stroke him until he spews a few needy spurts of cum.
Because when you let out a soft moan of satisfaction, your eyes closing as you look up at him with the most intense gaze full of affection, he can’t help but smile.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
a/n: it’s 1am i’m too lazy to fix this if there’s any mistakes…i just wanted to write tomura foreskin lowkey
ok so this has the most sudden ending so don’t get too attached pls :3 but anyways here’s over 1k words abt my bf
mdni!! this one’s a lil suggestive
everything is quiet — gentle (as gentle as your boyfriend could be, at least). the apartment had gone dark at a ludicrously late time as per usual, all screens on an idle sleep mode that gave a dim blue light to the living room.
you’re straddling tenko on the couch, lips locked and feverish — something that would’ve made spinner gag if he was was present (not that the two of you would be doing this if he was — he just tended to have really bad timing when it came to these things. whoops).
there’s a small shift underneath you.
the way tenko’s hips bump against yours is soft, so soft you almost don’t catch it in the haze of your locked lips… but then he does it again. and again. and then you have to pull away to check what he’s doing because you two have never done anything more than make out and you definitely do wanna fuck him but what if he’s not even trying to initiate anything like that and-
“what happened?” he asks softly. the lovesick look on his face is almost comical, you would’ve teased him about it if you were in your usual mental state but you were way too out of your element at the moment to even consider that option.
you give his shoulders a small squeeze from where your hands were resting, a small, uncertain shift of your hips making you both take in a little breath.
“… nothing.”
your voice is nothing more than a huff. you don’t know whether you’re frustrated at yourself for your lack of confidence or at him for how oblivious he was to how fucking insane he was making you right now. he doesn’t look convinced.
“tell me.”
“no.”
the pout he gives you is lethal, his kiss swollen lips only enhancing every squeeze-him-to-death impulse that you got whenever he even glanced in your direction.
“stop it. m’not telling you.” you grumble.
“then keep kissing me.”
“… i can’t.” you almost hoped he couldn’t hear that. the confused little wrinkle in his brow shows that your silent prayer wasn’t answered.
“you can’t.” he repeats. you can almost hear the irritated twitch in his brow.
“mhm.” maybe doubling down would work. maybe he’d just brush it off because you both knew you were being ridiculous and overthinking every little thing as you usually did. maybe, maybe, maybe…
“you’re being stupid, tell me what’s wrong.” he gives your hip a small pinch, an action that would usually have you frowning and swatting his hand away but now only makes you want to squirm.
“you were just-“ you let out a frustrated little breath that cuts off your own words. he stays quiet (whether he was being considerate or reveling in the rare shyness from you was disturbingly unclear. you wanted to choke him out either way).
“… moving…” you finish your thought. that was dumb, of course he was moving while you were making out. you were starting to question your own mental state.
he still doesn’t say anything, but his expression turns deadpan. gods you were so out of your depth.
“you were like- moving your hips, i guess… i dunno. shut up.” you finally huff out, a burning heat in your cheeks that you tried your best to conceal. why couldn’t he just catch on already??
“no i wasn’t.” his response is immediate. you couldn’t tell whether he was oblivious or embarrassed (he was irritatingly good at schooling his expressions when he wanted to, unfortunately for you).
“you were, i felt it. you were, like… basically humping me, tenko-“
“ew don’t say it like that, i was not-“
“you were-“
it’s not long before your words devolve into jumbled murmurs, the both of you desperately trying to get your points across and make the other admit that you’re right without waking up everyone else in the apartment. you don’t notice the way his eyes dart to your lips for a split second before he leans in again, muffling your words against his lips.
his hands grip your hips tight, his chest pressing against yours when you lean into the kiss. you were stubborn but definitely not stubborn enough to break the kiss just to bicker with him more.
he pulls your hips against his in a subtle rocking motion and your breath hitches in a small gasp you take in through your nose. his hips aren’t moving like they were before, but the way he was guiding you is more than enough to send heat flowing just under your skin.
“did i make you uncomfortable?” it’s a breath against your lips, a sort of care behind the whisper that only you got to see. you pull away just barely so you can shake your head, your lips grazing over his. not quite a kiss but the air still felt static.
“do you wanna stop?” his voice is somehow softer than before. you weren’t used to hearing him sound so… shy. he was always one to rip the band aid right off but here he was, flushed and gripping tightly at your hips for any way to ground himself. it’s like you both were resisting the urge to shy away and retreat to opposite ends of the couch. you shake your head again.
the red on his cheeks has spread to the tips of his ears at this point, but he still nods in response. you both don’t move for a few beats after that, both of you so so afraid of doing something wrong and taking the other out of the moment.
“you’re… really pretty.” he breaths out the words like you’ve punched him in the stomach. he truly couldn’t think of anything else to say at the moment and you knew that, but you couldn’t help but fall into a fit of giggles at his words.
“you're mean.” he grumbles out, the slopes of your noses nudging against each other when that little pout pulls at his lips again.
“i know, m’sorry.” there’s that tinge of sly amusement behind your words that makes his heart squeeze and he has to stop himself from biting you… or something stupid and cringey like that.
instead, he guides your hips to grind against him in a clumsy, unsure sort of motion. it’s an act of impulse, something that would’ve had him flushing dark and apologizing if he didn’t hear the sound that left you when he did it.
that fucking sound. he wishes he could’ve recorded it and played it on repeat for the rest of his life. you weren’t loud, but it was soft and breathy and just a little higher pitched than the times he’s sucked hickeys into the skin of your neck. it’s fucking perfect — unrestrained, pretty, you.
he’s watching you with stars in his eyes and you have to press your palm over them to finally break him out of his daze.
“stop that.” you grumble under your breath, but the way you lean forward to press a few fleeting pecks to his lips does not help your words sound any more forceful.
he lets out a small sound that you don’t acknowledge as a whine for your own sanity.
“baby…” it’s soft in the way he knew made you weak. he always did this, used the stupidly sweet petnames you used with him because he knew how quickly you’d fold. you always tried to resist, but he wouldn’t continue doing it if it didn’t work, would he?
“lemme see you-“
“shut up.“ there’s a stupid, subtle smirk on his lips and you have half a mind to get off of him completely to get the smug look off of his face. you don’t though, he knew you wouldn’t.
BAD REVIEWS ; shigaraki tomura x reader [taglist OPEN!]
"couple bad gut feelings, well, i've had them too. still i choose to be in love with you."
— next >>
You were soaking wet.
If it weren't for the fact that you were searching for the lost father of your baby, you wouldn't be out in the pouring rain, knocking on the grimy, worn down door of some sketchy abandoned-looking bar that reeked of smoke, rot and spilled beer. You were out way past any unreasonable hour, following the unreliable lead to this hell-hole you should’ve ignored.
He told you his name was Tenko. You’d met him at a GameStop, for god’s sake — not some back alley with a gun to the back of your head.
You never did things like this. You didn’t chase strangers. Or impulsive one-night stands…
You also didn’t go paying online strangers to run background checks– that had to be illegal, right?
But here you are—out in the goddamn rain—because some guy named Tenko disappeared after one night.
And now you were… well, pregnant.
To sum it all up— you guys fucked.
It wasn't romantic, no candles or rose petals. But it wasn't careless either(he suspiciously wore two finger gloves too).
There’d been a softness in the way he held your hips and how his fingers brushed against your jaw, like he wasn't used to touching something that didn’t crumble under his touch.
You played Smash Bros on some shitty motel TV. You remembered laughing—really laughing—as he trash-talked you like a twelve-year-old who lived in his mom’s basement. It was a weird night. Tender in a way that caught you off guard. Like two people pretending they weren’t lonely for once.
You knocked once. Twice. As you were about to knock for a third time a misty figure wearing a black and white suit opens the door making you step back in surprise. “What is your business here?”
“Uhm– I’m looking for—” frantically searching inside the bag slung across your chest and reaching for a crumpled piece of paper with a sloppy sketch of the man you were looking for. “This guy… about 5’8, very dry skin, slouchy and a beauty mark below his lips.”
As the man is about to close the door on you–
You quickly wedge your foot between the frame and the door, heart pounding. “Wait! I’m not here to cause trouble– I just really really need to talk to him…”
The figure tilts his head to the side, his gloved hands pointing to the sketch in your hand. “You seek him.”
You nod, biting your lip nervously. “It’s really urgent.”
He’s about to speak again when a pale blur passes behind him—slouched posture, ragged hoodie, unmistakable mop of chalk-blue hair. Your eyes widen.
“That’s him!” You gasp, pushing past the doorman before he can react. Hearing protests as you continue to sprint inside the dingy bar. “Tenko!”
The figure freezes, slowly turning his head towards the sound of your soft voice. His eyes widened in surprise and displeasure. His hand came up to irritably scratch aggressively at his neck, as if it's the only thing that tethered him at this moment.
That alone makes your heart sink.
“I know you probably don’t remember me, but—”
“I remember you,” he cuts in, voice rough. His brows pull tight. “What the hell are you doing here?”
You flinch at the sudden edge his tone attains, but feel no real venom behind his words. Like he truly is at a loss of words when it comes to the reason you came here.
“I’ve been looking for you.” You breathe out. “And trust me, it has not been an easy task.”
He shakes his head disapprovingly, trying to make sense of the situation. “Get out.”
“Tenko, please! It's really important– I just need five minutes.”
“It's actually Shigaraki.” He stares at you, you don’t know what his face is saying. “And fine. Five minutes.”
You follow him into a cramped back room—dusty, dim, and completely silent once the door clicks shut.
He leans against the far wall, arms crossed tightly. “Alright. You’ve got my attention.”
“Well remember that night at the shitty motel, you know we played video games and eat junk food and you were—”
“Spit it out.”
You huffed and pouted. “I’m pregnant.”
He blinks once. Then twice.
“...What?”
“I’m pregnant,” you repeated, firmer this time. “And it’s yours.”
For a moment, he just stared at you. Like he was trying to rewind time. Like if he blinked hard enough, you'd vanish along with your words.
Your heart starts to break into tiny pieces. You were half expecting this response. One of rejection.
“I wore a condom,” he said at last, voice low and disbelieving, as if trying to ground himself with logic.
“I know,” you added sweetly. “I’m not here to blame you Tenko– Shigaraki or whatever you go by. I couldn't just not tell you…”
His hand went up to his neck again, scratching hard, the skin already raw from anxiety. “This is… you’re serious? You’re actually—”
“Yes. I’m nauseous. Tired. Late. And I took a test.” You whispered the last word onto him. His body tenses harder at your claims.
“I don’t even know your last name.”
You look around the room, swallowing the anxiety and nervously down to your gut. “Trust me, I know.” You bite your lip, feeling sick at what his next words might be.
“Shit…”
His voice is low, sharp—like a blade dragged across ice. “Get the fuck out. I don’t want to see your face ever again.” The words escape his mouth with a cruel, underlying sense of disgust.
It hits you like a punch to the ribs.
Your vision blurs. Your knees weaken. Panic starts to pour in, thick and fast. Your breath turns shallow, wheezing out of you in short, sharp bursts. You stumble back and tears brim your eyes.
“Tenko–”
“It's Shigaraki!” He yanks your wrist, using two fingers worth of strength. “Fucking hell.” He says, dragging you out of the hallway and leading you to the door you busted through earlier.
The tears you’d been desperately holding back finally spill, sliding down your cheeks in trembling, uneven rivers. They drag your makeup with them—black streaks of mascara bleeding down.
“Come on,” he mutters, jaw clenched. “You wanna break down? Do it outside.”
“Wait–”
And then, without another word, he slams the door in your face.
You’re left out in the storm—shaking, wet, and completely alone.
a/n: did you guys like this? i've had this thought ruminating inside my head rent free lolthought i should share
