Nsfw Drawing

Summary: You’re trying to recover from what happened, but it’s hard to forget; especially when you know he’ll be back for you one day. Your commutes home have never been so stressful.

Mean!Yandere!Shigaraki x Bimbo!Reader

⚠️ mdni. a splash of horror. dark content. degradation. exhibitionism. fingering. incel. misogyny. noncon. sexism. thoughts of death and dying. victim-blaming. voyeurism. yandere.

Previous l

You go straight to the cops upon fleeing from Shigaraki. You understand why he let you escape when the officers stifle chuckles. You don’t have anything but your word to support the bold accusation that the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front is trying to rape you. Saying it aloud sounds more ridiculous than the way it echoes in your thoughts.

You check the forum. Crumbleking’s post was deleted days ago. The account he used is gone, too. Your Instagram yielded similar results.

At the very least, they believe that someone entered your apartment and assaulted you. His identity being Tomura Shigaraki is highly contested. They send someone over to investigate your home. Much to your chagrin, the officer returns with a clean report. According to his examination, nothing in the space was disturbed. There was no sign of a break and enter.

It’s funny. When you stumbled towards the window, desperate for safety, you recall knocking over a table and shattering the vase. If nothing was disturbed, did your assailant clean up the mess…?

You ration that he had to have, and your heart almost stops. He’s ballsy for that one. You suppose he’s confident in his plan to enact revenge on you. He considers himself invincible, and he damn well might be. But everyone has a weakness.

You’re not stupid enough to think this is over. You aren’t keen to relax now that you’ve alerted the authorities. Will the cops who laughed at you rush to your aid when he inevitably returns for a second try? Doubtful. You’re responsible for protecting yourself.

You submit a police report anyway. They don’t include a name for the suspect because they don’t buy your allegation. It’s enough to simply have the document on file.

You don’t return to your apartment that evening — at least, not by yourself. You explain what happened to a friend. She lives in a beautiful, isolated rural area, about an hour out of town; nevertheless, upon hearing your bad news she drives all the way to pick you up at the station. A stoic, shivering mess, she works to reassure you. Nothing works. Nothing is helpful. She takes you back to her house after grabbing some essentials at your place.

Entering your space felt foreign and uncomfortable. You found yourself jumping at the slightest creak. Nothing was familiar. And you were correct about the vase — someone cleaned it up.

The days following your attack involve negotiating a lease break with your landlord. Fortunately, you’ve lived here long enough to establish a solid rapport with him. He keeps your deposit for last month’s rent and permits you to leave by the end of the week. You do so discreetly.

Gradually, you transport your essentials into your car. On the last day of your lease, you hire movers to bring your larger furniture to a storage unit. You promise your friend it’ll only be for a few weeks, and you mean that — for her sake. Although she comprehends the risks, she still agreed to help you; nonetheless, you don’t believe she’ll be spared if Shigaraki discovers your location.

You quit your job. A new one isn’t difficult to find. It’s in a different city. If all goes well, you figure you’ll move into a nearby apartment and lay low.

The next week or so is quiet. You maintain awareness of your surroundings but nothing happens. It’s as though he’s biding his time… or maybe witnessing you walking on eggshells is precisely what he wants.

Shigaraki is a busy man. He doesn’t have the energy to spend haunting you, a civilian who once talked shit about him online. There are bigger fish to fry. According to him, he gets enough women at home, anyway. It’s likely that you’ll never see him again.

Oh, you poor, naive woman; so willing to believe the logical lies your nervous brain feeds you.

It’s six o’clock in the evening, two weeks after your encounter with the dust villain. You stand on the subway terminal and glare down the tracks. There are a few other people there with you. No one you recognize.

To get to your friend’s residence, you have to take the 2216 train to the very end, walk for fifteen minutes, and catch the bus. It’s a dreadful commute. You’re saving up to buy a used car. But until then, you’ll just have to deal with the time vampirism that comes with sneaking around.

Five minutes into your gruelling wait, the train squeals into the terminal, dim yellow lights flickering as it grinds to a jittery halt. Its doors jerk open with a soft ding. You enter the cabin. As usual, it’s crowded at this time of night. Everyone else is commuting home, too. They get on at the station right before yours, taking up all the seats and more than half the standing space.

You walk down a bit and stand between two men conversing with seated passengers. There’s a group of stylish women next to you, chattering eagerly about their evening plans, and a few scattered friends on the opposite side, dazed and distracted after a long work day. It’s compact, but not uncomfortable yet.

Your hand dips into your pocket. When your fingers don’t find what they’re looking for, you grimace. No earbuds. Great. You must have forgotten them at work.

The train stops at another terminal. More people shuffle on board. The trip commences.

You close your eyes and meditate. Honing in on your breathing, you feel the air entering and leaving your lungs. The sensation is serene. You sigh gingerly as the background noise lessens a bit. Sadly, your peace doesn’t last for long.

Something swipes across your butt. Your spine grows rigid. Accidents happen on packed subways, but that? That didn’t feel like a mistake. You hold your breath as you wait, positive your assailant will make a second move. He doesn’t keep you in suspense for long.

He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the flesh tightly. You gasp. A swift, gloved hand covers your mouth. The textured fabric is rough against your skin.

“Shut the fuck up, you little slut.”

Your assailant’s familiar, raspy voice sends a chill through your entire body. Without a doubt, Tomura Shigaraki is behind you. You were a fool to believe he was gone for good. He had to return, didn’t he? If only to put you in your place.

“If you overreact, I’ll dust this entire cabin.” He warns. “Let me do what I want, and maybe you’ll get to leave alive.”

Why wouldn’t he kill you and everyone on this train? It’s not like you’re special. Once you’re dead, he’ll simply find another person to harass. And the people around you? No one significant. He’d probably garner a lot of attention if he committed mass murder.

But all the same, it’s impossible for you to understand the sick feelings he harbours for you in his heart, and the way they grow every time he sees you. It isn’t love. It isn’t lust. It’s a sensation that’s incomprehensibly sinister in its somber nature; a volatile melange of emotions that frightens even him. You have no idea the lengths he would go to for the sake of preserving your life; he’s not finished toying with you yet.

He releases your ass and uncovers your mouth. Securing a palm firmly to your hip, he slithers his other hand up your skirt. Slipping your panties aside, he finds your clit. His index fingers massages slow circles over your twitching nub, eliciting a delicious exhale.

He dreamed of this moment for weeks. He fantasized about bearing claim to you in public, where anyone can watch. He’s about to be the God of this world, isn’t he? He can do as he pleases, and to hell with the consequences. When he possesses rule, he’ll have you cockwarm him on his throne all day long. By that time, you’ll surely know your place beneath his muddy boot.

He teases the lips of your cunt with his sharp fingernail, gliding it gently over the edge of your small hole. He pinches your thigh when you attempt to press your legs together. He won’t let you deny him entry to what’s his.

“I’m wearing gloves that cancel out my quirk.” He mutters darkly. “But if you don’t cooperate, I’ll take them off and activate it right here.”

He twists your clit between his thumb and index finger. The horrifying thoughts causes a stray tear to drip down your cheek. You don’t want to imagine how that would feel.

“Sorry,” you whisper pathetically. “I-I will.”

Picking up the tone of your voice, the man next to you turns around. Shigaraki removes his hand from beneath your skirt and wraps both arms around your waist. He lifts a brow when the stranger acknowledges both of you. To him, it looks like you’re a couple commuting home together. He has no concept of what’s truly going on; that if you don’t obey, him, and everyone else on this train, will die. Ignorant, he smiles and returns to his trivial conversation.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” The villain growls viciously. “Second strike, whore.”

You understand that the third strike will be your last.

You glance over your shoulder. He’s wearing a black face mask to match a large, baggy sweater. Crimson irises leer at you menacingly. He has his hood pulled over a head of shaggy, unkempt hair. It’s no wonder he hasn’t been recognized; his signature traits — like the hand covering his face, or his pastel tresses — are hidden from sight.

Just as you’re drinking in his appearance, he’s basking in yours. You look even better than the photos you put up on your social media account. He managed to save a few before you deleted it. He stares at them when he’s fucking his hand to the notion of capturing and taming you. He cums the hardest to porn where women are nothing more than brain dead sex slaves; that’s what he envisions for you.

Of course, submissive bitches aren’t born obedient; they need to be whipped into shape. He thinks the fight you put up is the best part about the training process. When you’re unruly, it forces him to be crueller. He wonders when you’ll pick up on that. It doesn’t have to hurt if you simply comply.

As much as he’s intrigued to witness you up close, he’s pissed at you for wearing a skirt today. Don’t you know the meaning of decency? Anyone could have molested you on the train. It’s practically a cultural norm for cute women to get harassed during their commute. He’s going to teach your pussy who it belongs to. Then, next time you go to work m, you might think twice before wearing a garment that’s easy access.

You face forward, when he grasps your shoulders. Slowly, his hands slide down to your hands, stopping to give them an affectionate squeeze, in case there are curious voyeurs. He wants to make this look as organic as possible.

From behind, he lifts up your skirt and pulls your panties aside. The fabric bites into your flesh, no doubt giving you a rash on the crease of your crotch. He’s careless with his motions; this is all about him. Discomfort is a sensation you should become dearly acquainted with.

“Did you miss me?”

You bite your lower lip when his digits discover your clit. Your back arches as they map out the nub, teasing your hooded flesh to see what your pussy needs to drip. It doesn’t take much. You can’t distract yourself from his touches. There’s nothing stimulating; merely the backs of strangers who couldn’t save you if they tried.

Inwardly, you sob. You have no control. Even your own body is betraying you.

He dips a finger between your folds and hums when he discovers how wet you are. Running the length of his index finger along your clit, he snickers. He knew you were in denial. You must want him. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to admit your desire by the end of your trip back to the Deika City.

“Feels like it.”

You frantically scope the sea of people. You’re between several, so you think you’re clear from view; then, you catch the eye of an older businessman. He’s staring directly at your crotch, where Shigaraki’s fingers are massaging your puffy clit. You bite the inside of your cheek. He knows what’s going on. You bet he’s been enjoying the show. You can’t count on a pig like him to save you.

You repress a sob, utterly humiliated. You haven’t felt this degraded in your life. You’re being groped by Japan’s most notorious villain while a lustful stranger observes.

“I bet you thought you got away from me, didn’t you?” He snarls. “Thought I’d forgotten about you.”

You’re too embarrassed to admit it. You fell right into his trap. Somehow, he knew you would lower your guard after a while. It’s precisely when you set it down completely that he struck. You’re either extremely predictable or he has incredible intuition.

He removes his hand from your underwear and brings it around to your chest. You feel your juices coat your skin and shudder. You can’t believe your body got wet for this disgusting motherfucker.

His nasty fingers claw at the buttons of your blouse. One of them pops off. It shoots diagonal, striking one of the windows. A passenger picks it up and glances around. You lock eyes with her. Instantly, she notices what’s going on. Unlike the businessman from earlier, however, you know she has the intention to act. It sparks a flame of hope in your heart.

A few men shift and shroud her from view. It’s probably for the best. Shigaraki’s digits locate your nipple soon after, dipping beneath your bra to pinch the responsive flesh. You stifle a shriek when his plucking becomes too much.

“I’m going to take you back with me and tie you up in the middle of our courtyard,” he whispers hoarsely, voice dripping with desire. “I’m sure some of our soldiers could use a bit of stress relief.”

You gag. You’ll die abused, beaten, starved, and dehydrated — a prisoner of war because you mouthed off on the Internet. This is so stupid.

Your captor groans softly as he withdraws his hand from your breast and slides a lithe finger past your folds, sheathing it up to his knuckle. He can tell it hurts. Your pain makes him enjoy it more. You stiffen and bite your lower lip.

The vehicle jolts to a halt again. The system announces that this is Jolicoeur Station, the second last stop on the line. That means you’re nearly there. He hums approvingly when the doors shut.

“Time’s almost up, whore.”

You don’t know what the fuck that means. Is he going to kill you or bring you to his base? Only time will tell, you suppose. For now, you want his sharp fingernail away from your cervix. You wriggle, praying he’ll at least stop jiggling it around. It isn’t long until he does, though he makes it clear he withdrew if his own volition; he can’t have you thinking you have a modicum of power over him, can he?

He’ll treat you like you’re nothing — a lifetime of serving him will drill that into your pretty head. He’ll never let you understand your real worth again when you’re under his brutal care. Beneath his boot is where you’ll remain.

The train lunges to another ungrateful stop. Your heart drops. This is it — the end of the line. Shigaraki touches you with both hands from behind, drumming his clothed fingers atop your shoulders.

“When the doors open, walk.” He instructs you. “We’ll pretend we’re a couple.”

You want to throw up. He’s forcing you to act like his lover after playing with you against your will. You’ll be damned if you go down without a fight. If you see an opening to ditch him, you’re going to take it; to hell with considering the consequences of being caught a third time.

He smooths your clothes out from how he rumpled them. He figures it’ll seem more natural if you appear relatively put together. He fixes your blouse and then moved to your skirt. To onlookers, it’s probably cute — a boyfriend tending to his girlfriend. They have no idea about the undertones of his treatment.

As if on cue, the woman from earlier coaxes your gaze back to hers. She licks her lips and reaches for the emergency switch. Your mouth opens. You know what she’s trying to do. It’s perfect. He won’t expect it because he thinks he’s in the clear.

You nod once. She takes that as your signal to proceed m. With a visible grunt, she yanks the switch down. Reprieve floods your chest as soon as you hear the alarm.

You have to go.

Now.

The doors of the train freeze. In a panic, everyone races out of the car. You follow suit. The second you sense his grip slacken, you bolt. As you scurry off the car, you feel Shigaraki’s greedy hand reach for you — gloveless. You scream. Your voice blends in with the rest of the cacophony, shielding you from unwanted attention.

You glance over your shoulder. Everything around you slows down. He’s standing in the sea of people, still and glaring. His hood is pulled down and his mask is hanging off one ear. His scarred lips are contorted in a grimace.

For a brief moment, an understanding is met. Today, both of you learned that the other is not to be underestimated. After this little stunt, you’re his main priority. He hopes you’re prepared to take this game just as seriously, because he won’t stop pursuing you unless he’s killed. And he knows that won’t happen anytime soon.

You turn away from him and finish your flight. Like last time, he permits you to escape. He stays glued in place until nearly everyone else has left the terminal; then, he departs.

You have no idea the demons you’ve awakened inside him.

—

Suggestions for kinks to write in the next parts are welcome :)

(bnha manga ending spoilers)

what was the point

what was the point

what was the point

WHAT WAS THE POINT

WHAT WAS THE POINT

WHAT WAS THE POINT 😭😭

what was the pointtttt

new hyperfixation

The ex god of death tries to be romantic

bro i'm ruining my own chances...like i'm currently studying to be a psychologist (and hopefully a criminologist after 👉👈) but every time soemone tell mz they are intrested i'm like "haha whqt a good joke.."

Then they think i mocked them but i meant it in a "Don't act like you like me then you don't" a'd its always like this TvT i swear i only reamise after

Just me having a breakdown lol

i won't vent about my whole life alright, just some part. In life many stufr happend to me that made me hell of unstable, one day i began mha and i fell in love for the first time. Or in obsession whatever you want to call it. For so long i was down bad for Tomura shigaraki, he was my main occupation, thinking about him all the time like a weeb loser, taking 90% of my free time for him and reading, writing, drawing, imaginating stuff about him. I never managed to get attached to a real person because of how bad i was scared to get hurt. I was 5 when i told myself to never be in love with soemone (real, even if at 5 years old i made a generality) because crying for soemone in a world with so many people is stupid. And now i'm crying like a middle schooler everytime everyday at any minor inconviniance and sometime even without reason since the death of Tomura shigaraki. I'm not okay. I'm living exatly why i litteraly blocked myself from loving. I'm living it with a damn anime character ! What is wrong with me ?! Hell i cried more for his death then for the death of my aunt ! I don't get it, he's not real i shouldn't feel like he is, he's just a comfort character, one that i also admire and simp for since a long time but still ! He was my everything. He still is. It hurt. Call me a weeb, a weirdo, an asshole, or whatever the hell you want but his death is breaking me and damn it i need to know if others feel that way too, more the just frustration about how the death was made, more then just "simple" sadness (like convential anime stan sadness) more then what it's supposed to feel alike

Tomura drawing : tongue out baby~

picking a play fight with Tomura, swatting him with with a pillow as he pouts about you beating Baldur at your fisrt try in God Of War. the fucker took him out at least four times! you know it's all fun and games, and he even hits you back a few times, but when he throws you on his bed, annoyed, you feel genuinely overpowered. you made the mistake of thinking that just because he is skinnier and smaller than you, he's not too tough either. because really, who is not bigger than Tomura?

so you giggle and try your hardest to wriggle out of his iron grip on your wrists, but you realize that it's impossible; he's too strong, much to your surprise. the way his face gets all smug at your slightly nervous expression makes you suddenly feel the fear of knowing that he could do whatever he wanted with you and you wouldn't be able to escape him. you can't do a thing squashed under him or even move much with how firm his hold is. he can actually toss your body around however he pleases. such vulnerability makes you tremble a bit.

Tomura lets out a small, boyish laugh at your dumbfounded face and releases you, going back to his controller. the shit eating grin he has on his face tells you that he's so fucking proud of himself. that's right, i'm still superior. i still can take you in a real fight kind of stuff going through his head. little does he know how thrilled you are while challenging him in other games, secretly hoping he'll get angry and pin you down again. you're actually hoping for some consequences this time.

Can soemone explain me ? What's an f/o ? God ibmist sound stupid...but i still have some english stuff that i don't get at all 😅

📸 Self-Ship Photo Scavenger Hunt! 🎞

The idea of this is to appreciate little details/moments of your f/o! This works best with live-action F/O’s but any visual media is ok! Askers send you an F/O and an emoji and you have to…

👁 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s eye/eyes!

🗣 Post a screenshot of your f/o in profile/side view!

👄 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s mouth!

🤚 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s hand(s)!

🥺 Post a screenshot of your f/o where they’re emotional.

🎉 Post a screenshot of your f/o where they’re smiling/laughing/having a good time.

🕴Post a screenshot of your f/o small in the distance/the background of a shot.

👞 Post a screenshot of your f/o’s shoes.

👔 Post a screenshot of your f/o in a different outfit than usual.

🤪 Post a screenshot of your f/o making a silly face.

🏃 Post a screenshot of your f/o on the move.

✏️ Post a screenshot of your f/o doing their job.

🔥 Post a screenshot of your f/o looking tough.

🌸 Post a screenshot of your f/o looking cute.

😳 Post a screenshot of your f/o that flusters you.

❓ Post a weird/funny/confusing screenshot of your f/o with no context.

As a bonus, gush about the screenshot in the caption (you know you want to) - and please practice inbox karma if you can 😌

Love Spell

Summary: He knows he’s got you hook, line and sinker by the way you bite your lip and make room for him between your legs. It’s so desperate it almost disgusts him.  You are Shigaraki's biggest fan and he wants to break you.  Cw: Tomura shigaraki x female reader, slight yandere reader, shigaraki has a hero kink, mean shigaraki, degradation, choking, spit kink, dumbification, pro hero reader, traitor hero reader, controlling/possessive shigaraki, dacryphillia, intercrural, unhealthy relationships, begging, praise, mdni wc: 3.3k | crossposted to ao3

You feel dirty. 

You feel dirty, cold and disgusting every time you do this, but you just couldn’t stop. 

You can’t remember when it started or who made the first move on who, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re here now, under him as he leers over you, grin wild and wicked knowing he’s got you right where he wants you. 

“What’s going on in there, hero?” Shigaraki questions you, his body towering over you as his legs straddle your thighs. 

You know better than to lie to him. 

“N-nothing.” You meekly reply hoping he’ll be satisfied with your answer and move on. 

He brings a hand down, holding your cheeks together and you wish he would lean down, get closer, give you more. “That’s right,” his voice is low and filled with amusement, “nothing going on in that dumb little brain of yours.”

This time you whimper, thighs pressing together to hide your arousal. It would only be dragged out more if he knew how much his words turned you on. 

“Stupid little hero. What are you here for?”

“Y-you.” You squeeze through pressed cheeks. 

The answer does not satisfy him this time. “What about me?”

“Your cock. I came here for your coc— ah!” Your words are cut short as he flips you over, cheeks mushing into his dark pillow. 

Shigaraki wastes no time disintegrating your shorts and dragging your underwear down playfully slow. 

It drives you mad. 

“No! No— Shigaraki, I-I want to see your face, please!” You beg and it would be pathetic to your own ears if you weren’t so horny. 

The low rumble of his chuckle has arousal pooling in your belly and you can almost feel the slick sliding down your cunt. 

“You want to see my face?” He mimics and you nod as best you could with your face pressed down. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

And you’re back on your back, sigh of relief falling from your lips as you meet Shigaraki’s red gaze. 

He leans forward and you feel your heart rate rise, his hair brushing your cheek as he whispers in your ear, “but don’t think this means I’ll go soft on you, hero.”

You nod, uncaring and wanting nothing but him — too smitten by his proximity to really care how he treats you. 

His smile should insight fear, make you curl away and run, but it only spurs on the warm feeling in your chest even more. 

He knows he’s got you hook, line and sinker by the way you bite your lip and make room for him between your legs. 

It’s so desperate it almost disgusts him. 

You are Shigaraki's biggest fan and he wants to break you. 

A hero is still a hero, traitor or not. But there’s nothing in the rules against using the prettiest one he’s ever seen for his own benefit. Especially when she becomes such a loyal puppy for him in his bed. 

He pulls down his own pants, cock red and leaking at the ordeal and the sight of it makes you reach forward. You want to take him into your hand and take care of him yourself but he stops you, slapping your hand away in disgust. 

“Don’t touch me.” He hisses, eyes filled with vitriol and anger. You nod and lean back, waiting eagerly for him to touch you. 

It’s never the other way around — Shigaraki has made that clear more than once. 

He lazily drags a finger between your folds, the touch making your hips jump forward in surprise. You’re so wet the slide is easy. 

“Whatcha’ so wet for, slut?” He questions slowly pressing his index finger into your sopping cunt, forcing a moan from your throat. His finger reaches deep and it has you gasping, fighting with everything you could to refrain from fucking yourself on it. 

You knew better. If you tried to take more than he offered, he would take it away. 

So it’s to your delight when Shigaraki takes pity on you and pushes a second digit in, dropping the rest of his body down to lap at the sensitive area of your neck. 

You moan unabashedly, glee of the stretch making you dizzy, but it doesn’t end there.

Shigaraki takes his time, gliding his fingers in and out of your cunt, searching diligently for that sweet spot inside that drove you mad. He presses deeper, pulling a gasp from you as he finds exactly what he’s looking for, abusing the spongy spot as he sucks dark bruises into the column of your neck. 

The push and pull is intoxicating and you feel the warmth in your abdomen spread as the feelings become more and more intense. Shigaraki nips at your neck, the sharp pain pulling your focus back to his ministrations and you chance tangling your fingers in his ashen locks. 

He allows it, you can even feel the small grin sneaking onto his face and you’re sure you’ve done the right thing. 

You should have known better. 

Tomura takes your distraction in stride, pressing a thumb to your sensitive clit and massaging it along with his other movements. The pressure is so intense you almost fall apart then and there.

Almost.

Shigaraki has shown you time and time again that nothing is ever easy. He wouldn’t let you cum so soon — and he doesn’t. No, he takes his fingers away from you and sits back, taking in the sight of your ruined orgasm. 

“You didn’t think I'd let you go that easy, did you?” His grin is wicked as you writhe below him, forcing yourself not to reach down and finish the job on your own. 

“N-no.” Your response is meek, but he enjoys it. Shigaraki leans down, face so close and you feel lost in his carmine eyes — you can’t help yourself when it happens. 

You lean forward to kiss him, feeling captivated by his gaze and Tomura swiftly turns his head, avoiding your lips and leaving you high and dry.

He scoffs, pulling away once more to give you a halfhearted glare. “No, thanks, hero.”

Begging was on the tip of your tongue, only stopped by Shigaraki hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder, putting your cunt on full display for his eyes only. 

The chill of the room made you shiver, but you didn’t dare shy away from him. 

“Such a pretty cunt, such a pretty girl. Too bad you’re a dumb little hero.” His hand is uncharacteristically gentle as he rubs your smooth thigh. 

His words pull a whine from your throat, eagerness getting the better of you as you stir, ready for anything else he would give you. 

Shigaraki grabs your other leg, throwing it over his shoulder as well while his cock rests on your pelvis.

It’s thick and heavy on your abdomen, already leaking precum onto your stomach and near your navel. You feel the heat pool between your legs at the thought of his cock bruising your insides with its girth. The thought is electrifying and you squirm under his touch.

Shigaraki seems to finally take some pity on you as he starts to thrust, pressing your thighs together. They are soft and plush under his grip and he moans at the friction. 

You can’t beg him, if he knows you want him inside he’ll just continue to fuck your thighs, cumming all over your stomach while he lectures you about patience — leaving you horny and unsatisfied.

So you wait, allowing him to fuck your thighs while you watch his eyes close and sparse brows furrow at the sensation. 

He gets lost in the feeling and looks down at you, his ruby red gaze pulling you into a trace. “You want me to cum like this?” He asks through thrusts. 

You don’t, but you know he just might if you tell him that. 

“Y-yes. Whatever you want.” You hope he believes you. 

Shigaraki’s lids lowered, the unamusement plain on his face and you know you’ve fucked up. 

“Liar.” He spits and you whimper. “Fine, I’ll give it to you, just stop looking at me with those eyes.”

He spreads your legs once more and kneads the sensitive parts of your inner thighs. It makes you cry out. 

“Shut up,” he spits, sneer on his mouth as he straightens up, sliding his cock between your wet folds and pumping it with your slick. “Before I really give you something to cry about.”

You worry your lip, tired of the game and downright sick of the waiting. 

“You know what,” he ponders as he lines the thick head of his cock with with your entrance, “I just might.” 

His smile is wicked as he gives you no time to mull over his words, instead choosing to fill you completely and suddenly, the ache of the stretch makes you cry out, eyes pressed shut at the intrusion. 

“What?” he questions, wasting no time setting a heavy pace, hips pulling back only to snap forward, shoving his cock further into your soft walls. “Thought you wanted it, hero?”

You reach a hand back, gripping the pillow beside your head as you try to hold on to your tears. The throb of the stretch was nothing compared to the rough rhythm the villain set. You couldn’t hold your cries in if you tried, but you knew Shigaraki would only try to make them louder. 

“Yeah, that's it,” he murmurs, steady pace rocking you against the bed with a force that slowly drives you up towards his headboard, “cry for me.”  

Tomura’s red gaze is locked on yours as he drags his hand up your body and to your breast, cupping them with a gentle squeeze. You moan out at the action and gasp as he tweaks a perky nipple between his forefinger and thumb. 

He slowly moves his hand up further, reaching the column of your neck as he failed to hide his grin. 

His hand is large as it wraps around your neck, four fingers down and one dangerously close. It was close enough to make you sweat. It was a threat. Don’t move too much or I’ll slip, he would tell you. It scared you to your core but god it turned you on, too. 

You gasp at the feeling, fear furthering your dizzy pleasure.

“Open your mouth.” Shigaraki commands, and you oblige — eager to please. “Stick your tongue out.” You do, causing him to chuckle. 

“You look fucking stupid.” He leans over sticking his own tongue out and you watch as the slick clear spit drips from his tongue down into your mouth.  

“Swallow it.” His words are sharp and you do as you are told, hoping that maybe he would give you a reward, but he doesn’t — you receive only a dark laugh in return. “Nasty bitch.” 

His words are filled with vitriol, but you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you. Shigaraki closes his eyes, pounding into you as his fingers press onto your neck. 

The pressure makes you gasp, vision going blurry. 

Shigaraki can’t help it, he can’t help the way your pretty cries fizzle out when he presses too tightly or holds on for a little too long. Deep down, he feels like you deserve it. It's his own special way of knocking you down a peg — of knocking all heroes down in more ways than one. 

You can tell he is getting lost in it by the way his rhythm is smooth and he has the perfect amount of pressure on your neck that makes your brain fuzzy and makes you see stars. 

But what he doesn’t know is that he’s driving into you so good and it’s making your eyes roll back with the way the head of his cock brushes against your sensitive spot inside. It doesn’t help that he's only picked up the pace, mistaking your silent cries for overstimulation. 

He’s hitting it over and over again, each brush sending jolts of pleasure up your spine and try as you may but you just can’t keep holding on. 

Tears build in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you realize you won't last much longer. The pressure inside of you was getting tighter and tighter as your thighs began to squeeze around his waist. 

You’re close.

So close and you can’t stop it when it happens — your brows furrow as your thighs tense at the sensation.

You’re about to cum and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

You can’t even make a sound because Shigaraki is squeezing your throat again and that’s all it takes. It pushes you over, back arching as waves of pleasure shoot through your body. 

The feeling is so good and you can't stop the tears from escaping now, body in a state of extended euphoria as your lungs struggle to inhale more air into them. 

It's an accident, an honest accident that you couldn’t have stopped if you tried, but you know the man above you would never see it that way. 

“Did you— did you just cum on my cock?” You can see the anger through the lust in his eyes as he slows his pace down to a much more shallow thrust. It makes you shiver. 

“Yes! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Shigaraki—“

“God, you’re such a slut.” He huffs, like this ordeal was no more than a mere inconvenience instead of a mind numbing orgasm. 

You feel relieved, fully believing he would not punish you for something you couldn’t control.

You’re wrong. 

In an instant, Shigaraki pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach and caging you beneath him. 

“You feel so needy, right?” he questions, pulling a whine from your throat, “Needy girls just want to cum don’t they? You don’t need to see my face.”

At this, you feel the thick press of two fingers sinking into your cunt, the slick from your orgasm making them slide in with ease as the smooth feeling of Shigaraki’s digits bring tears to your eyes. 

“I do, Shigaraki, please—” you start, ready to beg for his forgiveness. You would do anything to get him to fuck you within an inch of your life again, “A-Ah—!”

He wastes no time in continuing his attack on your sensitive walls, pulling a cry from your throat as you writhe from the overstimulation. You've already cum once and the added pressure of his fingers pinpointing your sweet spot is only driving you closer and closer to another one. 

Your mind feels muddled as you have no choice but to lay there and take the pace Shigaraki has set with his fingers, the rising pleasure making your toes curl as even more tears fall from your eyes and onto his dark pillow. 

“Yeah, that’s it.” he murmurs, loving the submission you’ve given him. 

Shigaraki presses down on your back, pinky carefully raised as he his other hand goes in and out, pace ruthlessly steady as he pulls you towards another climax. 

Overstimulated and crying, you are only along for the ride as Shigaraki forces another orgasm from your already wracked body, the slick juices coating his fingers and feeding the fuel to his fire. 

“Oh, fuck.” he breathes, riding out your climax as you cry into his pillow, it feels electric as he carries you through it. 

You can’t help the next words that leave your lips, too intoxicated by the ongoing pleasure given to you by the man above. 

“I’m sorry, Tomura!” you blubber, tears blinding your vision as you gasp for air. You're drooling on the pillow and ruining his sheets but you can't stop — it just feels too good. “I love you!”

Tomura is behind you, caging you on the bed, his warm tongue licking the tears from your cheeks. “You love me? Well, isn't that cute.” 

He doesn’t say it back, he never says it back but you tell him anyway. What else could this overwhelming need for him be called?

He doesn’t give you a second to breathe as he flips you back over and slides back in — picking back up on his aggressive pace while you fight to stay coherent. 

He’s fucking you so hard and so deep you barely register the crown of your head knocking against the headboard from his thrusts. 

“The pretty, dumb little hero is in love with the villain, hm?”

You’re openly crying, the tears flowing freely as you writhe from overstimulation. 

“But it’s okay. I’ll guide you — I’ll help you.” He rants on, thrusts only getting rougher. “I’ll show you how much the heroes don’t care about you — I’ll educate you. Teach you a lesson.” 

You’re whining, keening high and needy as you feel your next orgasm approaching. 

“You want that? Want me to fuck you stupid and bring you to my side?”

You nod, desperately chasing your high again. 

Shigaraki is amused. “Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just get you pregnant and leave you. Tell your little hero friends you got knocked up by a villain, hm?” He’s close to your ear, his hair tickles as it fans over your cheek.

You didn't care what he asked of you at this point, you were inches away from your third peak of the night and you would agree to walk with him into hell if it meant he would make you see those stars again. 

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself, having reached a conclusion, “I think you’ll make a good example.”

You feel caught in a trance as Shigaraki continues his pace, eyes locked on yours as his mischievous grin widens. He loves to see you broken and needy. But you knew, deep down, he would never stop calling you to his bed, no matter how many times he’s threatened you. 

His eyes close, getting lost in the pleasure as his strokes begin to stutter and become uneven.

“Gonna cum — where do you want it?” His sparse brows furrowed as he pistons into you. 

“Inside, inside!” You beg and it’s a mistake. 

Tomura would never give you what you want. 

He pulls out at the last second, pumping his cock and sighing in relief as he spurts rope after rope of milky white right onto your cunt. A few of the solid streaks hit your clit and make you jolt from its pressure.

You should have known he wouldn’t listen to your pleas.. 

He leaves you high and dry, cunt pulsing around nothing as you cum for the third time tonight. It would have upset you more if he hadn’t wrecked you so thoroughly beforehand. 

Shigaraki watches as you come down from your high, eyes glossy as the tears on your cheeks begin to dry. You couldn’t move if you wanted to and you’re thankful he hasn’t kicked you out yet.

No, he does something that shocks even you from your blissed out stupor. 

Shigaraki leans down and captures your lips in a deep, chaste kiss. One that goes no further than a press of the lips but sends your heart racing. 

He pulls back only a sliver and then you see it. 

It's only a flash, and then it's gone again. 

You notice the way his eyes soften ever-so-slightly as he pulls away further.

Lust, want, longing. 

Shigaraki can lie to himself as much as he wants to, but you know the truth.

Love is not the opposite of hate and there is such a thin line between the two.

Tomura Shigaraki is not immune to raw emotion, no matter how much he claims to be.

So you lie there, catching your breath and knowing he would make you leave soon, but knowing he would call you back all the same. 

But it's okay — you would keep chipping away at his resolve in the meantime. 

You know that it’s only a matter of time until he cracks.