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#Tomura
shiggyartist · 2 days
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Shiggy chilling, playing games. He got pissed with LOL, switched it up.
Dont repost
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w0rmm1lk · 2 days
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How we feeling about moth shigaraki
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He looks like a creep here in a fine way oh my god🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️
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My mouth is watering
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arakn0 · 16 days
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Happy birthday baby sweetie. Sorry about your entire life :/
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justanotherfangirlwup · 3 months
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Well, he tried.
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mymhameme · 7 months
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random sketch dump
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hotpotatopotat · 11 days
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Aizawa arrives just in time to save Tomura Shigaraki with his ultimate move. (mha419)
I'm not saying this will happen, but I AM saying it would work.
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moodyvoid · 2 months
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100% Tomura has asked Mr. Compress to put him in a marble because he wanted to feel like a pokemon going into a pokeball.
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devildomcrybaby · 3 months
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Unconcerned about whatever activity you might be occupied with, Tomura carefully grabs your wrist and leisurely lifts your shirt to press a kiss to your belly. He can be careless, letting his knuckles brush against your breasts in doing so, his other hand gripping your hip slightly pulling down your shorts exposing the side of your panties.
It's an astounding notion, being able to touch you to his heart's content. All of his life never once has he allowed himself to touch anything so freely. Anything he didn't want to slip through his fingers in ashes. Destroying is different. It's easy. It's what he was born for. But to caress? He hardly ever knew tender touches. He's not sure that he's able to do it right, either. It feels clumsy, like it's not meant to him. But you always let him. You trust that he won't tear, bruise, shatter. There must be something deeply wrong with you, he thinks. Maybe you're like those who skydive or swim with sharks just to have adrenaline running through their veins. Maybe risking your life gets you off. Relinquishing control to him. Maybe it makes you feel safe, at ease, to know that it's someone else deciding whether you live or die. You can't really be blamed for the consequences of your actions if no choice is up to you. Does his deadly touch makes you feel free? He's being ridiculous and he knows it as you run your fingers through his hair and slide your nails up his exposed arm. You're gentle.
It's a terrifying thought that you could let him because you want to. That you seek to be touched just as much as he seeks to touch you. That you might...It can't be. He can't afford the luxury of entertaining the thought.
Doesn't matter now. Just lie still against him like this.
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toyasgirl · 11 months
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The villain trio & a radio episode with a lil art from Hori when?
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frickingnerd · 4 months
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dating tomura shigaraki
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pairing: tomura shigaraki / tenko shimura x gn!reader
tags: fluff, established relationship, clingy shigaraki, jealousy
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shigaraki is an obsessive boyfriend
like, he has no idea how he managed to land someone as amazing as you and he won't let you leave him again!
he always compliments you and hypes you up when you wear something nice or put on make up
he's very clingy and he wants to spends as much time as he can with you
he's especially clinging to you when the other league members are around
it's not like he doesn't trust them or anything… but yeah, he doesn't really trust them around you! 
he worries that someone like dabi or twice might try to make a move on you and even the idea of you leaving him for them makes him furious
shigaraki is very jealous and he doesn't have much self control. he'll know that he wouldn't be able to hold back if he saw someone hit on you
your friends are going to be scared of shigaraki – if you even decide to tell them about your relationship with him in the first place!
you'll probably keep it a secret that you are dating the leader of the league of villains…
you are also his first girlfriend, so shigaraki isn't quite familiar with how relationships work
he's trying so hard to be a good boyfriend for you, but sometimes he says or does things that he maybe shouldn't have
dates with shigaraki aren't usually that romantic. it's not like he can just take you to a fancy restaurant without people recognizing him–
so you usually come over to his place and watch a movie or play some videogames with him
on days where he feels very romantic, he'll try to cook for you
it's mostly just boxed mac and cheese or he'll throw a frozen pizza in the oven and heat it up for you
but occasionally, he'll ask toga for help and the two of them bake a cake or some cookies for you!
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ectologia · 5 months
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I don't know how to explain this but bear with me! Reader and Tomura have a dynamic of a popular girl who is secretly a total masochist and a nerdy incel guy who is a degenerate freak and gets off humiliating and degrading the reader. Not sure if that was coherent but it's been rotting my brain and I needed to share
♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝒟𝐼𝒞𝐻𝒪𝒯𝒪𝑀𝒴 ؛ 𝓉𝑜𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒶 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓀𝒾
𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ノ noncon ノ quirkless au ノ college au ノ bullying ノ abuse ノ graphic violence ノ unhealthy relationship ノ blood ノ profanity
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“Hey, Tomura.”
Blood-reds peer up at you through fluttery, moth-like lashes. Pale and silken like an angel’s. He tugs his headphones down to rest around his neck before setting his phone in his lap. “Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?” You thumb a lock of hair behind your ear.
He’s dubious by the way your friends chitter behind you. Petite hands and manicured nails swat at each-other, hissing between smirks. His ankles uncross, planting themselves firmly on the ground as though in preparation. He winces through his response. “Yeah.”
“What’s wrong with your skin?”
You’ve barely finished your sentence before you’re doubling over with witchy cackles, the girls behind you following suite.
Tomura doesn’t find it funny at all, in-fact, he doesn’t even understand the joke. Dull nails rake at his protruding collarbone before sinking further into the pool of his hoodie, swimming nose deep in the black fabric. “I have a skin condition..”
A piggish voice squeals from behind you. “What’s it called? Not washing?”
He scowls, biting a scabbed-over chunk of blood from his lip, shrinking further into his hunched position in an attempt to make himself as small as possible, or as small as you can be after being picked apart by a bunch of snot-nosed bitches.
You get the last laugh as you strut off with your group, leaving him boiling with rage. Clutching his phone between a set of white knuckles and wringing the strap of his bag in the other. His palms split inside his fists, wretched and shaking with ire.
Of course, that was only the first of many instances.
He remembers on another account, when you’d pulled his hood down in-front of everyone and sneered in disgust at the powdered nest of matted white hidden beneath. Or when you and your gaggle of other titless twats thought it would be fun to fling food at him during lunch, sealing the deal by dumping a fresh load of apple juice into his lap. He’d waddled home that evening, quivering at the sticky feeling of liquid squelching in the pocket of his underwear. Or another time, when you’d tripped him up on the way to his seat, howling with laughter along with everybody else as he laid face down in the middle of the classroom, snivelling with a scuffed chin and bruised cheek.
But, despite everything.. all these things added up — just makes it that much more delicious when he finally gets to face you alone.
Tomura’s palm collides with your face, once on the left side and then on the right, knocking you about with a heavy hand bludgeoning you to the brink of death.
Your whimpers only spur him on as he kicks your heels in, sending you flying, knees splitting atop the sharp gravel coating the ground. “Tomu—”
“Shut the fuck up.” A rubber sole plants itself onto your cheek, imprinting it’s swirled pattern into your skin in a heap of dust. He stands above you, stoic and proud, uncaring of the sickening crunch that erupts from your broken cartilage. “You shut your fuckin’ mouth, I can’t be asked to listen to your whinin’ right now. I’ve already got a fuckin’ headache.”
You heave through the stream of bubbling crimson pooling on your tongue. “I’m sorry, Tomur—”
“Oi, what’d I just say?” He kicks you again, digging the tip of his red sneakers into your stomach. Swinging his leg back, he clobbers you, battering your, no doubt, already bruised body further. “Stupid — fucking — dumb — ass — bitch.”
A spill of blood accompanies your gasps, left retching and writhing and clutching at the ground, clawing at the loose stones dotted about the pavement.
“You like that, huh?” He crushes your fingers, twisting and grating them into the concrete as you scream, clinging to his shins in prayer. “Yeah, you do. You fuckin’ love it.”
He squats down to cradle your chin in his palm, craning your neck back into a painful arch. “Who’s my little bitch? — That’s right you are.” He coos at you through grit-teeth, pressing down on your popped lip with the pad of his thumb. “You are..” He whispers before letting the weight of your head fall again.
“I hope you’re thirsty.”
The zip of a fly has your ears perking, squinting through your lashes at the pale length throbbing in his palm, slit already frothing with pre. “Get that fucking tongue out.”
“Wait, Tomura, please!—”
“What? — I don’t think I asked you, you cock-sucking little bitch.” He brandishes his cock like a weapon, squeezing it between dangerous fingers. “Get that tongue out now, before I do it myself.”
You comply with a whimper. Statuesque as you point your tongue out wide, leaking thick globs of drool over your chin and onto your shirt.
“Better.”
It wouldn’t be uncommon to expect the plush velvety feel of a salty tip prodding at your mouth, snaking its sweaty shaft down your gullet. But this time, you’ve been particularly naughty.
“You think it’s fuckin’ funny, huh? Gettin’ your little boyfriends to jump me in the bathroom?” He clutches your neck in a vice grip, jostling your spooked form. “Well, since you seem to like playin’ around toilets so much — I’ve got you a little gift.”
His fat dick jumps while a stream of urine accompanies his harsh jerking. “Yeah, get it down ya’.” He whistles, shooting the acidic stream of piss straight to the back of your throat, making a game of it as you gag and cack at the air.
“Had enough?” He angles his cock down, allowing you a burst of air but soiling your clothes in the process.
You nod frantically, gurgling with bubbles foaming.
“That’s cute.”
He sprays the last few acrid droplets over your forehead, letting it drench your hair to the root and then some.
Your nose wrinkles at the smell, putrid and pungent and most likely undiluted by the amount of water you know he drinks, or lack of.
You’re hoisted onto your feet by a pair of hands. Looking down, you see how the curve of his cock slaps against your hip. Propped up against the wall, he hikes your legs up over his elbows, pinning you into a tight hold where you’d have no chance at escape. He only peels the crotch of your underwear to the side, letting your chubby folds do the rest of the work by holding it in place while sliding his uncut prick up and down the little triangle placed between your thighs.
“Preparation isn’t needed when you don’t deserve it”, Is what he whispers into your ear, stale breath warm and ticklish against your canal as he begins to sheath himself inside, chunky mushroom tip popping through the first ring of muscle before feeding the rest through. It’s akin to being impaled in the awkward position, sat without a centre of gravity on a hot, girthy pole, just twitching to tear you through the middle and come out the other end.
Tomura’s eager to hurt you, already humping you against the bricks, bouncing you up and down with guttural and down-right animalistic grunts. The noises are purposeful, he doesn’t need to make such strange sounds but he much prefers the curl between your brows to the foggy look in your eyes.
“I’m fuckin’ you.” It’s an odd but factual statement. “I’m fuckin’ your pussy. My dick is inside you. You get that? Raw.”
“Uh, huh.” Your jaw whips up and down, soft as your tongue hangs out.
He’s unsure whether to scowl or smirk — so he settles for a bit of both, catching a lip between his stained teeth. “You’re a freak.“ Forehead to forehead, he puffs into your mouth, loving you down with a thumb digging into your crack “What would all your friends say, hm? That you like gettin’ your ass beat and raped after school everyday.”
Sharpened fingernails dig into the flesh of his striped neck, crying out with dewy eyes falling, rolling behind sunken eyelids. “Ngh.. I’m.. I — gonna’..”
He smacks your face for the umpteenth time, a litter lighter than the others. Perhaps even a tap. “Don’t you dare.”
“Ca..”
Your toes curl inside your socks and your pussy tightens, twisting and pulling on his engorged manhood despite his obvious protests. He drops you on your rear, startling your spinal cord as you hit the concrete with a thud, legs still shivering and clitty still pulsing with the shattered remains of your ruined orgasm.
Tomura growls with a livid expression as his cock spurts, still throbbing with the remembrance of your gummy hole massaging him. His balls tighten and he throws his head back, canines bared as he lets the white darts shoot out onto your face.
“God — shit — wasn’t meant to fucking cum..” He murmurs, dabbing a knuckle over the damp sheen across his forehead.
He cracks his neck, then zips up his pants, shaking off the tension held between his shoulders before snapping his fingers, nudging your crouched form with the toe of his shoe. “Come on then, hand it over.” He demands with an almost exasperated sigh.
Panting, you turn to rummage through your bag. With two $20 notes crumpled in your palm, you offer them to the man with timid, shaking hands.
Enthusiastic as he snatches the paper from you, he eyes the green with scrunched carmines before clicking his tongue. “Seriously, $40 bucks? That’s it? I even made you cum you stingy cunt.” He looms over you with a menacing glare.
“Uhm.. I.. there’s..” You search through your pockets in a frenzy. “I don’t have any more on me..”
“Well, that’s gonna’ be a problem then, isn’t it?”
“I.. I can give it to you tomorrow! I’ll get you another 20!”
He tuts, narrowing his eyes at you before turning on his heel. “Make it 30.”
As he moves to make his leave, you begin to crawl with desperation, reaching out for him with an outstretched arm. “Wait!”
“What.”
“..Do.. Do you want to hang out this weekend?..” He thinks you resemble a love-sick puppy with the way you blink up at him. “..Please?.. Tomu-kun?..”
There’s a hint of a smile that plays on his cracked lips as he looks down at you, still thumbing the creased bills in his pocket. “Hm.. Actually—”
“Make it another 40.”
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zombiecheri · 1 year
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broken mirror
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I go bazoonkers whenever I see his neck and collarbones 🛐🛐🛐
His neck looks so kissable and biteable
(RAWRARAWRWAAAHHHAJQBAJNDJQNARAWR)
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Chest, jaw, hands and lips too.
If he needs a dog...I can moo 🍞
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arakn0 · 3 months
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him and his long long hair
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enapav · 7 months
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STARTAFIGHT
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