Shigaraki Fluff - Blog Posts

stressed so i decided to draw fluff

Everyone read this right the fuck now

Why are you making me do this?

Shigaraki x Reader

Context: You give him a spa day to help him feel better :)

Comments and feedback are appreciated 🥹🫶🏻

The bathroom was warm and filled with steam, the scent of lavender bath salts wafting through the air. You stood by the tub, waiting as Shigaraki leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking like he wanted to disappear into the wall. His crimson eyes darted away from yours, his shoulders stiff and defensive.

“Why are you making me do this?” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“You’re not a baby,” you shot back, keeping your tone soft but firm. “But you’re clearly in pain. I can see it every time you scratch yourself raw or flinch when you move. Just… let me help you for once, okay?”

He huffed, dragging a hand through his hair—a dangerous gesture considering his quirk. “It’s not gonna fix anything.”

“No, but it might help you feel a little better,” you said, stepping closer. “You deserve that.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, but after a long moment, he sighed heavily and tugged his shirt over his head. The fabric caught on his elbows, and you stepped in instinctively to help. He froze, the proximity clearly making him uncomfortable, but you ignored it and gently peeled the shirt away, careful not to graze his fingers.

When his torso was finally exposed, you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger for a moment. His chest was littered with old scars and faint scratches, his skin pale but visibly irritated in places. He shifted uncomfortably under your stare.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, his voice low. “I know it’s disgusting.”

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. “It’s not disgusting,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I just… I hate seeing you like this.”

His expression hardened, but you caught the faint flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. He didn’t say anything as he moved to unbuckle his belt, and you turned away out of respect, your cheeks warming slightly.

“Get in the bath,” you said once you heard the faint rustle of fabric hitting the floor. “The water’s ready.”

He stepped into the tub, lowering himself slowly into the warm water with a quiet groan. The tension in his shoulders eased almost instantly, and you could see the faintest hint of relief on his face as he leaned back against the edge.

You knelt beside the tub, rolling up your sleeves. “This might sting a little, but it’ll help,” you said, reaching for the washcloth.

His eyes flicked to yours, wary but trusting. “Do whatever you want,” he said softly, resting his arms on the sides of the tub.

You dipped the cloth into the water, lathering it with a gentle soap before carefully running it over his arm. He tensed at first, but as you worked, his muscles relaxed under your touch.

“Y’know,” you murmured, your voice light but tinged with concern, “I really wish you’d take better care of yourself.”

He scoffed, his lips twitching into a faint, self-deprecating smile. “Yeah? Sorry you have to look at me like this.”

You paused, your hand stilling on his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up,” you said bluntly, your voice firm but not unkind.

His eyes widened slightly, and you could see the faintest hint of surprise in his expression.

“I don’t care about how you look,” you continued, your tone softening. “I want you to take care of yourself because I can see how much pain you’re in all the time. I just… I want you to feel better. Even if it’s just a little. And if that means I have to rub lotion on every inch of your body to make it happen, then I will. I don’t mind.”

You hesitated, your cheeks warming as you realized how forward that sounded. “I just, uh… you know what I mean.”

A faint flush crept up his neck, and he turned his head away, his voice unusually soft. “You’re too good to me.”

The washcloth glided over his arm, the soft pressure coaxing a sigh from his lips as he sank deeper into the bathwater. You worked in silence, focused on cleaning the irritated areas of his pale, scarred skin. His muscles, usually tense and on edge, seemed to relax under your care. But after a while, he shifted slightly, his crimson eyes flicking to yours.

“The towel’s… too rough,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual. “Can you just… use your hands?”

Your hands froze mid-motion, your breath catching slightly. “Y-You mean…?”

He frowned, clearly irritated with himself for asking, but he didn’t take it back. “Yeah. Just your hands. It… feels better that way.” His gaze shifted away, as if he couldn’t bear to watch your reaction. “Forget it if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head quickly, biting back the flush creeping into your cheeks. “No, it’s fine. I’ll—yeah. If it makes you feel better.”

Setting the washcloth aside, you dipped your hands into the warm, soapy water, rubbing them together to lather the soap before placing them gently on his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath your palms, and you could feel the subtle tension still lingering there as you began to move.

Your fingers worked in slow, careful circles over his shoulders, kneading the stiff muscles there before trailing down his arms. His biceps twitched slightly under your touch, and you couldn’t help but notice how lean and defined his muscles were, despite his wiry frame.

“This okay?” you asked softly, glancing up at him.

He nodded, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he leaned back a little more. “Yeah. Keep going.”

You let your hands slide down his arms, taking your time to wash each one thoroughly. Your thumbs grazed over the sharp ridges of his elbows and the softer curves of his forearms, your touch light but deliberate. When you reached his hands, you hesitated, carefully avoiding his fingertips.

“Careful with my hands,” he murmured, his voice low but not harsh. “Just… don’t touch the tips.”

“I know,” you said softly, guiding the soapy water over his knuckles and palms with the utmost care. “I won’t.”

Once his arms were done, you moved to his chest, your hands trembling slightly as they brushed against the firm planes of his torso. His chest rose and fell steadily under your touch, and you tried not to focus too much on the scars that littered his skin, or the way his muscles shifted beneath your palms.

“You’re blushing,” he muttered, his lips quirking into a faint smirk despite himself.

“Shut up,” you shot back, your voice flustered but not unkind. “I’m trying to help you, remember?”

His smirk softened into something gentler, and he let out a quiet hum as you continued. Your hands moved down to his stomach, the soft skin there slightly more sensitive under your touch. He twitched faintly when your fingertips grazed a particularly ticklish spot, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Didn’t take you for the ticklish type,” you teased lightly, your voice warm.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, but there was no bite in his tone.

After finishing his front, you leaned back slightly, motioning for him to sit forward. “Turn around so I can get your back.”

He obeyed, shifting in the tub until his back was to you. His shoulders were lean and angular, his back a canvas of old wounds and scratches that made your chest ache. You let your hands glide over his skin, your fingers careful but firm as you washed away the grime and tension that clung to him.

When you finished his back, you sat back on your heels, taking a moment to let your hands rest. “Alright,” you said, your voice soft. “Now, lean back again so I can wash your hair.”

He gave a faint nod, shifting until he was reclining against the edge of the tub. His crimson eyes met yours briefly before sliding shut, his expression almost peaceful.

“Don’t get soap in my eyes,” he murmured, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk.

“I’ll do my best,” you said with a small laugh, reaching for the shampoo.

The warm water cascaded over both of you as you prepared to move on to his hair. You grabbed the cherry-scented shampoo, a slight smile tugging at your lips as you squeezed some into your palm. “I hope you're okay with smelling like cherries,” you teased gently, your fingers already moving toward his hair.

Shigaraki blinked lazily up at you, his eyes half-lidded, clearly trying to relax. “I don’t care,” he muttered, but you could see the faintest flicker of amusement in his gaze.

You gently ran your fingers through his unruly, spiky hair, the soft pressure soothing him as the cherry-scented lather spread through the strands. The smell of sweet cherries mixed with the warm steam of the bath, and you focused on massaging his scalp, carefully working the shampoo through the tangled locks. You paid close attention to his scalp, where the skin was tender from his quirk, and you worked in slow, deliberate circles, the tips of your fingers pressing down just right to relieve some of the stress.

As you did, Shigaraki's breath hitched unexpectedly, and he let out a low, almost involuntary moan that echoed around the bathroom. Your fingers stilled for a brief moment, but you didn't say anything, instead continuing to massage his scalp with extra care. You didn’t tease him; you could feel the way his shoulders relaxed under your touch, and you didn’t want to ruin that moment.

“You okay?” you asked softly, not wanting to break the moment but also needing to check.

He blinked, eyes still closed, clearly a little flustered now. “Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just… don’t get used to it.”

You didn’t press the issue. Instead, you gently rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, the water swirling around you both as it carried away the soap. You reached for the conditioner next, squirting a generous amount into your palm.

“I don’t need any of that girl shit,” he grumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes.

You laughed, the sound soft and warm, almost comforting. “I just washed your hair with cherry-scented shampoo. Conditioning your hair isn’t going to hurt your masculinity, I promise.”

He scoffed, but it didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Fine. But you’re doing it, not me.”

You smirked, shaking your head, and worked the conditioner into his hair with care. You took your time, making sure it coated each strand as you massaged it into his scalp before working it down to the ends of his hair. His hair was soft under your touch, but you could still feel the dryness at the ends, the way it needed more nourishment.

“You’ve got some dry spots in your hair,” you muttered as you worked, and he grumbled in response, clearly uninterested in the details.

“I know, just—hurry it up,” he muttered, but there was a note of something almost like relief in his tone.

You didn’t rush. Instead, you carefully left the conditioner in his hair for a few minutes, paying attention to the ends, letting the treatment sink in. He leaned back into the tub, his eyes closed, breathing slow and steady, almost at peace.

“Alright,” you said after the five minutes passed, your fingers gently working through his hair one last time. “Time to rinse.”

As the water poured over him again, you rinsed the conditioner from his hair, making sure not to get it in his eyes. His hair felt softer now, a bit smoother, and it had a faint, lingering scent of cherries that made you smile.

“Good?” you asked quietly.

He opened his eyes, meeting yours with a mix of exhaustion and something like appreciation. “Fine,” he said, but you could hear the soft note of gratitude in his voice. "It’s better. Thanks."

You smiled, brushing his hair back away from his face gently. “You’re welcome.”

You stood by as Shigaraki carefully climbed out of the bath, his movements deliberate and a little slow, but you didn’t rush to help him. After all, he wasn’t a baby. He was still more than capable of managing on his own, and you had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate the extra attention. Instead, you handed him a towel, letting him dry himself off as he seemed to enjoy the rare moment of being left to his own devices.

You couldn’t help but smile softly as he wiped himself down, his hands still tender but determined to handle it on his own. It was a quiet reminder that even though he was tough in a lot of ways, he still needed care, even if he didn’t always show it.

Once he’d taken care of the rest of his body, you stepped forward, the towel in your hands ready to help him with his hair. “Let me help with your hair,” you said softly, your voice gentle, knowing he’d probably let you now.

He glanced at you for a moment, a bit hesitant, but then gave you a short nod. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t make it weird,” he muttered.

You simply nodded, your fingers gently working through his damp hair, twisting the towel in your hands as you began to dry the strands. You used a separate towel for his hair, careful not to tug too hard or pull at any sensitive spots. As you worked, you brushed the towel through the wet strands, your fingers carefully raking through the hair that had been so soft after the conditioner.

“You know,” you said softly as you finished drying him off, “you really should take better care of your hair. It could be a lot softer if you didn’t just let it get all tangled.”

He let out a quiet scoff, but it lacked any real bite. “Don’t care about my hair. It’s fine.”

“Right, just like the rest of you is ‘fine,’” you teased lightly, making him shoot you a side-eye. You could tell he was trying to hide the soft hint of a smile that wanted to creep onto his face, but you could see it in his eyes.

You gently ran your fingers through his damp hair once more before applying some leave-in conditioner. The cool cream smoothed over his hair, helping to keep it soft and manageable. You massaged it in, feeling the strands more gently now that they were drying. After you’d finished, you grabbed the comb you kept nearby and carefully worked through the hair, making sure to detangle it without pulling too harshly.

His hair was in much better shape now, and you could tell he felt the difference as he gave it a few more ruffles, the soft texture running between his fingers. “Better?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, sounding a little gruff, but you could tell he was secretly grateful for the effort.

Next, you made a pointed glance toward the bathroom mirror. “Alright, now brush your teeth,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe.

Shigaraki immediately gave you a look, his eyes narrowing. “Why? I don’t need—”

“Shigaraki,” you interrupted, holding your hand up. “I’m not kissing you if you don’t brush your teeth. I’m not suffering through that.”

He blinked at you in surprise, before the corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly in a rare smirk. “Fine, fine. I get it, princess.”

You watched him move toward the sink, still a little sluggish from the bath but clearly used to the routine. Despite his general lack of self-care, Shigaraki did brush his teeth on occasion, and you knew he didn’t want to push it with you. He didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for you, even though his quirks and habits were, at times, less than ideal.

You waited patiently as he brushed, watching as he rinsed his mouth afterward, his grumbling to himself barely audible as he finished up. When he was done, you couldn’t help but smile. “Better?”

He gave you a small, resigned look, but there was a hint of a smile behind the annoyance. “Yeah. Happy now?”

“Very,” you said, meeting his eyes with a soft smile.

It wasn’t much, but the simple moments of care you were able to offer, even when he tried to resist it, made you feel like you were getting through to him in the most important ways.

As you stood by, watching Shigaraki finish up with his teeth, you couldn’t help but notice how dry his skin looked—especially his lips. It was obvious that he hadn’t been taking care of himself as he should. His skin, usually pale to begin with, appeared irritated in spots, with patches that looked sore from neglect. You knew, in that moment, it was time for some more serious attention.

“Alright, we’re not done yet,” you said, moving over to the small cabinet where you kept your skin care products. He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing.

“What now? You want to rub some of that girly lotion on my face or something?”

You chuckled softly, pulling out the facial cream and lip balm you kept stocked for days like this. “You need it, Shigaraki. Your lips are dry as hell, and your face looks like it could use some hydration.”

“Not the face, babe,” he muttered, turning away as if the suggestion alone was embarrassing. “I’m not putting any of that shit on.”

You rolled your eyes, walking up to him and gently lifting his chin with your finger, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t be so difficult,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “You need this. It’s not just about looking pretty, it’s about taking care of yourself so you don’t feel like you’re falling apart all the time.”

He huffed in frustration, but you could see the reluctance in his eyes. “I’m fine, I don’t need it. I don’t care about that stuff.” He glanced at the products in your hand with a glare, clearly irritated by the idea of being pampered.

You were having none of it, though. “Stop it. You know I’m not letting you get away with this. You’re not getting out of this one.” You moved forward with determination, taking a small amount of the facial cream and gently applying it to his face, starting at his forehead and working your way down. His skin was rough, but the cream was smooth, and you massaged it in carefully. He grumbled under his breath, but there was no way he was getting out of this.

“You seriously want me to let you do this?” he muttered, voice low, clearly self-conscious. “I’m not some pampered idiot, you know.”

You leaned in closer, your fingers working in slow circles around his face. “You don’t have to be a pampered idiot. You’re my idiot, and I’m taking care of you. You’ve got to let me.”

His shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t pull away, allowing you to finish applying the cream. “If you keep making that sound all sweet and patient, it’s gonna make me feel soft,” he grumbled, clearly trying to maintain some of his edge, but the fact that he was letting you do this without pushing you away said enough.

“Good,” you said with a teasing smile. “You need to feel soft every once in a while.”

You moved to his lips next, pulling the lip balm out and uncapping it with a small click. He groaned in protest, looking away as you gently applied it to his lips, smoothing over the dry, cracked skin. It wasn’t easy—he kept trying to dodge it, his eyes narrowing in embarrassment—but you weren’t having it.

“Stop fussing,” you said softly, your hands gentle as you finished up. “You look way better when you take care of yourself, and you feel better too. Trust me, I wouldn’t make you do this if I didn’t think it would help.”

He sighed in defeat, his gaze softening as he let you finish. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but you could see the hint of relief in his expression.

“Yeah, but I’m your impossible,” you teased lightly, brushing a stray piece of his hair away from his face. “Now, you’re all moisturized. You can thank me later.”

He didn’t respond immediately, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes—a mix of frustration, reluctant gratitude, and something a little more tender, like he was slowly coming to realize that this weird, loving care was something he didn’t mind after all.

You gave him a firm, yet playful, look. “Alright, go ahead and put on some sweatpants,” you instructed, “but leave the shirt off. You’re not done yet. I’m not finished with you.”

Shigaraki raised an eyebrow, a mix of confusion and mild annoyance crossing his face. “What, are you planning to make me wear a whole outfit or something? I’m not your doll.”

You smiled, the tease in your voice unmistakable. “I don’t need you to wear a shirt right now. Just go and get the sweatpants on and lay down on the bed. I’ll be right there.”

He shot you a look, still reluctant, but you could see the hesitation behind his usual tough exterior. “Fine,” he muttered, standing up slowly, his towel barely staying in place as he shuffled toward the other room.

The soft patter of his bare feet on the floor was the only sound for a moment, and you couldn’t help but watch him go, your heart skipping a beat. Even though he wasn’t showing it, you knew he appreciated the care. It wasn’t something he was used to, but you could feel the walls around him slowly coming down bit by bit.

Once he disappeared into the other room, you took a deep breath and gathered the final things you needed for the next part of his care. This was important for him. More than the skin treatments or moisturizing, this was about making him feel… well, cared for, in ways he might not let himself admit.

You walked into the other room, finding him already laying on the bed, his back propped against the pillows. His towel was tossed aside, his bare chest exposed but free from the weight of his usual responsibilities. There was something so unguarded about him in that moment, and you knew it was the perfect time to keep pushing him to take care of himself.

You walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, placing the lotion you’d brought with you beside you. Shigaraki didn’t meet your eyes, but his posture was slightly more relaxed. That was something. It was just a small step, but it was progress.

“Alright,” you said, meeting his gaze with a soft smile, “let’s get you settled, yeah? I’m not done yet.” You could see a faint glimmer of understanding in his eyes as you spoke—he wasn’t resisting as much, even though he still acted like he was too proud to let himself enjoy it.

You took a steady breath as you stood beside the bed, grabbing the lotion from the side and squishing a generous amount into your palm. The quiet tension in the room hung between you both, a mix of care, nervousness, and unspoken affection.

"Alright, babe," you murmured gently. "Lay on your back for me."

Shigaraki, always so tense and guarded, complied without protest. As he settled back against the pillows, you couldn’t help but notice how his muscles shifted beneath his skin. Despite the roughness, the dry patches of his skin, he was still incredibly lean, defined in a way that caught your attention, even now. You sat on the edge of the bed, ready to begin.

His voice was low and cautious as he muttered, "Be careful with my hands... I don't want to hurt you."

You gave him a reassuring smile, leaning down slightly. "I know, baby. I know. Don’t worry." You let your fingertips trail lightly along his shoulder, just to reassure him before beginning the task you knew would make him feel better.

Squinting slightly, you pressed your palm to his back, starting from the lower part of his spine, the skin rough to the touch from years of neglect. You poured a bit of lotion into your hands, warming it up, then gently massaged it into his back. The moment your hands touched his skin, you noticed the way his muscles seemed to relax slightly, the tension in his body easing under your tender care.

You moved slowly, deliberately, as you worked the lotion into the dry patches, your hands moving up to his shoulder blades. The muscle there was so defined—lean, hard—but you could feel the discomfort beneath it. His body had carried so much, been through so much, that it almost felt like you were massaging away years of pain and stress.

"Does that feel alright?" you asked quietly, your voice almost a whisper.

Shigaraki didn't answer immediately, but you could feel the change in his posture—his body was responding, the tightness in his shoulders loosening as you carefully worked the lotion into his skin. His head turned slightly, and his voice was barely audible as he warned, “Be careful with my hands… I don’t want you to—”

“I know, baby, I know,” you reassured him with a soft laugh. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

Moving down, your hands skimmed over his arms, your fingers caressing the backs of his shoulders and along the back of his arms. The skin there was tough, scarred in places, but the muscles themselves were like stone, defined in a way that only added to his rugged charm. You reached the backs of his hands, where his fingers—so sharp, dangerous, and unpredictable—lay curled against the bed.

He visibly tensed. “I... I don’t know about this,” he said quietly, his voice edged with uncertainty. “Touching my hands, I mean…”

You smiled softly, leaning closer to his ear. “Don’t worry,” you said, your fingers brushing his wrist as you whispered, “I’m fine as long as I don’t touch all five at once. You’re safe. I’m here.”

He seemed to relax, just slightly, though his hand remained a little stiff. You carefully massaged around his hand, making sure to avoid touching more than four of his fingers at once. It felt delicate, almost fragile, but you handled him with care, making sure he felt the reassurance of your touch.

After a moment, you gently moved your hands back up, tracing your fingers along his shoulders one last time before moving to the front of his body.

His breath hitched for just a second, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth creep up your neck. Your heart pounded in your chest as you moved to straddle him, your knees gently pressing into the mattress beside his waist. As you looked down at him, you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was—his chest, lean and muscular despite the dryness and roughness of his skin, was almost hypnotic.

You swallowed hard, your face flushing under the weight of your thoughts. His eyes met yours, his expression unreadable, though you could feel the faintest tremble in the way he inhaled.

"Okay..." you whispered, your hands shaking just a little. "I need to get your front now." You dipped your hands into the lotion once again, focusing on the warmth of it as you rubbed it into your palms. “I’ll take care of you.”

You started at the top of his shoulders, your fingers gently massaging the area, moving slowly to cover every inch of his skin. He was tense at first, unsure of how to react, but you could see the softening in his features as your hands moved across his chest.

You paid extra attention to his neck, the skin there often neglected, but this time you made sure to ease the rough patches, the discomfort. You took your time as you moved down to his collarbones, feeling their sharpness under your touch, and then along the front of his arms. You could sense the slight tremor in his muscles as your hands traced their way down his body, and you did your best to soothe it, working the lotion into every inch of his skin.

When you reached his chest, you couldn’t help but linger. You ran your hands along the defined muscles of his torso, pausing just to admire how his body shifted under your touch, the care you were giving him making him a little more at ease.

His voice broke through the quiet as he mumbled, “Remember my hands...”

You smiled gently, your fingers lingering on his chest for just a moment longer before you looked up at him. “Shh, I know. I’m not gonna get hurt.”

With a soft, almost relieved exhale, Shigaraki closed his eyes, and you returned your focus to his stomach. The muscles there were just as defined, firm beneath your touch, and you took your time massaging the lotion into the rough patches, letting your hands linger over the hard lines of his abs before smoothing them down his sides.

As you finished rubbing lotion into his stomach, you carefully shifted off of him, no longer straddling his waist. The moment you moved away, Shigaraki’s expression faltered just slightly, his lips curling into a small frown. You couldn’t help but notice how he seemed almost disappointed, and for a brief moment, your chest tightened with guilt.

His voice, quiet and almost unsure, broke the silence. “...It’s over?”

You blinked at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. For a moment, you weren’t sure what to say. You hadn’t expected him to feel that way, but there was something almost comforting in the way he wanted your attention. You gave him a soft smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. You had never seen him like this before—open, asking for care, for reassurance. You found it endearing, and honestly, a little heartbreaking.

“Of course not,” you said quickly, reaching for more lotion. “I didn’t mean to rush you. If there’s anywhere you want me to spend more time on, I’ll do it.”

Shigaraki shifted slightly, his eyes casting downward for a moment as if considering. Then, his voice, quiet yet laced with a hint of uncertainty, spoke up. “Can you... can you go over my neck again? And my shoulders? Maybe my elbows... and my stomach, too?”

You smiled, unable to hide how pleased you were that he was finally opening up to you. You could tell that, despite his usual cold demeanor, he was actually starting to appreciate the care you were giving him. It wasn’t just the physical relief—it was the connection, the intimacy of it all.

“Of course,” you said, moving back into position, and his gaze lingered on you for a moment, something soft in his expression. You grabbed more lotion and began by gently massaging his neck again, feeling the subtle tension in his muscles as your hands worked their way over the rough patches, smoothing them out with the lotion. His neck was always a sensitive spot, but you could tell he was beginning to relax as you worked.

You moved to his shoulders next, your fingers carefully kneading the muscle there, giving extra attention to the spots where you knew he carried the most stress. He let out a quiet sigh, his body sinking into the bed a little more, the weight of the tension easing under your hands.

When you reached his elbows, you noticed the faint scars that lined them, reminders of his past, of the battles he had fought. You took your time, gently massaging the skin there, making sure to be thorough without causing him discomfort. His breath slowed, and for a moment, you both just existed in the stillness, the sound of your hands working his skin and the occasional breath he let out.

You moved back to his stomach, lingering there once more. He had such defined muscles, and despite the dryness and roughness, you could still see the strength he carried within his body. You worked the lotion in slowly, your fingers gliding over the hard lines of his abs. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the tension slowly melting away as you moved your hands gently across his stomach, giving it the care it deserved.

Shigaraki’s eyes closed for a moment, his expression softening, a quiet hum of contentment leaving his lips. His usual coldness had slipped away, replaced by something more raw, more vulnerable. For once, he wasn’t hiding behind his harsh exterior, and you could see it—the subtle way his body language had shifted. He was starting to trust you more, to appreciate your touch, and it was everything you had hoped for.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice softer than you were used to hearing. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

You smiled, leaning in closer to him, your fingers tracing lightly over his shoulder once more. “You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered. “I’m just glad you’re letting me take care of you.”

Shigaraki’s eyes fluttered open, and for the first time in a while, you saw something in them you hadn’t before: warmth, perhaps even a little relief. There was something about this moment that felt different—a shift that, despite everything, made you believe he was finally starting to let go.

"You're welcome," he said again, though this time his voice was a little steadier.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, letting the silence settle between you both. It wasn’t just about the physical care—it was about the bond you were building, the trust, the understanding. And you both knew it was something that would only grow deeper with time.

Once you finished, you shifted so you were lying beside him, your body settling into the bed next to his. The room felt peaceful, the air thick with a quiet connection neither of you had fully acknowledged before.

For the first time, Shigaraki didn’t pull away from you. His red eyes, usually cold and filled with that ever-present bitterness, softened as they focused on you. There was something in them now—a flicker of tenderness that made your heart flutter.

You lay there for a moment, both of you just looking at each other, neither of you speaking. It was a strange kind of silence, but it felt comfortable, like the calm after a storm. His presence beside you was no longer a thing to fear. Instead, it felt like something safe, something familiar.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said, his voice quiet, but sincere.

The words themselves were unexpected. They caught you off guard. Shigaraki was never one to be openly grateful for anything, especially not for something like this. But there it was—his acknowledgment, his rare moment of appreciation.

Your chest tightened, and before you could stop yourself, your eyes started to well up. It wasn’t out of sadness, but something much more bittersweet—a combination of relief, affection, and the overwhelming feeling that you had finally cracked through the hardened shell he’d so carefully built around himself.

You didn’t know what came over you, but you couldn’t stop yourself from whispering his name. “Tomura,” you said, the sound of his name slipping from your lips, was soft, affectionate. You cupped his cheek gently, your thumb brushing over the scarred skin, feeling the subtle warmth of his skin against your touch.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice a little shakier than you intended. “You don’t have to say it back, but... I really love you.”

There was a long pause, a moment of silence where you held your breath, half afraid that you had said too much. That he would pull away, retreat into his usual, cold self. But to your surprise, his gaze never faltered, and for the first time, you saw him as something more than the ruthless leader of the League of Villains.

Tomura’s red eyes softened as he stared at you, and for once, his hands didn’t twitch with the usual restlessness. He leaned in slightly, his face inches away from yours. You could feel his breath, shaky and uneven, as if he too was battling with the emotions he was too used to locking away.

The words were hard for him, and you could see that. But in the end, he spoke them anyway.

“The feeling... is mutual,” he whispered, his voice quieter than before, but still heavy with sincerity. It was almost painful for him to admit, but he said it anyway. He leaned in closer, and without thinking, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

That small gesture—so unlike him—was enough to make your heart race. It was everything you needed to hear, everything you wanted. Even with the difficulty in his voice, it felt like a true confession. The weight of his words settled in your chest, filling you with a warmth that washed away any lingering uncertainty.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. A tear slipped down your cheek, though you quickly wiped it away, not wanting him to see how much his words meant to you. But he saw it anyway, his expression softening even more.

You rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes and savoring the quiet moment between you two. The world outside no longer seemed so daunting, not when you had him by your side—vulnerable, honest, and, for the first time in a long time, fully present.

And for once, you allowed yourself to believe that despite everything—despite his quirk, his past, his brokenness—there was still hope. There was still love.

Authors note: Not my fanart :)

Every one on my JJK taglist (my only taglist) is still on my taglist for jjk content :)

Let me know if you wanna go on my second taglist that involves a lot of different characters :)

@itsafairytalekay @sillysushi

I love how every Tomura lover wants to wash his hair specifically 💀

tomura tying his hair up.... much to think about

𝐎𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬. 𝐏𝐭.𝟏

𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚒 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝟼” 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚞𝚜, 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚂𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚏𝚏 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚊, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙳𝚎𝚔𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝. 𝚃𝚘𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚊’𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗.

𝙼𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚢𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚒 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜. 𝙸𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑-𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝙴𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎, *𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢* 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕. 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚘, 𝚒𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝.

𝙰𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎…

𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚞𝚎 𝙼𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚢𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙴𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎.

𝙻𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗, 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙰𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚊𝚗. “𝙾𝚑, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚕𝚋𝚘𝚠?”

𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝙰𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡-𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚐, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘.

𝙳𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗? 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝, 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚋 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 (𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 @ozoiudraws, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚋 𝙰𝚄 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚞 𝚜𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 🖤).

𝙸𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚋 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚎’𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜.

𝚂𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝟷𝟶-𝟷𝟻 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚐, 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚎-𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚐 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

@REILEFTTHECHAT — DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR USE MY WORK FOR AI PROMPTS.

If it's not a bother, could I request Tomura, Shinsou, or bakugou comforting their s/o after a fight? They get into a small fight over something unimportant, but because of past trauma, their s/o takes it really personally and assumes they're either going to leave or scream at them? Feel free to ignore this for any reason!! I could just use the comfort :')

Oh sweetie! Come here and let me give you a tight hug 🤗 everything will be alright you hear me? Also, I have three gorgeous men who'll help you feel better ❤️

Title : Comfort

Characters : Bakugo/ Shigaraki/ Shinsou/ gender neutral reader

Genre : Angst/ fluff

Masterlist

Bakugo :

"Please don't leave me.."

Seeing your shivering form as you choked out your words made him regret everything that came out of his mouth. He never meant to upset you, and he should've known better than to carelessly start yelling and attempting to walk out on you.

You on the other hand, were desperately grabbing his sleeve, tears running down your cheeks and unable to meet his eyes.

He cursed himself and dragged you gently into his arms.

Memories of the night you opened up to him came stabbing him in the heart. He knew all too well how much pain and suffering you had to endure after being abandoned by everyone you considered family.

He remembered promising to never hurt you or leave your side for as long as he lived, yet there he was, about to turn his back on you after a silly argument. And it didn't even matter that he was just going out for some fresh air, you didn't know, and that's the main issue.

_ "I'm sorry babe, I was just stepping out for a moment." He whispered against your temple and traced your back reassuringly. He hated being the reason for your tears after promising to never cause them.

He kept you in his hold until your sobs finally stopped. You lifted your head off his chest and watched him gently wipe your tears away.

_ "I don't wanna fight anymore Katsuki, I hate it when we do." And it broke his heart to hear you uttering those words, especially that your arguments are mainly over stupid things.

_ "I know honey.. but please, don't forget that no matter what happens I will never leave your side." He caressed your cheeks and kissed your forehead, and then your nose: "I love you, always and forever." He muttered before closing the gap between your lips in a loving kiss as his arms kept you secured between them.

Shigaraki :

Contrary to popular belief, your boyfriend Shigaraki Tomura, the infamous villain, is in fact a gentle person when it comes to the few people he cares about.

Which is why when you recoiled, pushing yourself further into the corner, Tomura realized that he actually fucked up.

It was just a regular stupid fight over a regular stupid thing, and it meant absolutely nothing. But seeing you sheltering yourself in fear, Tomura felt like shit.

He never intended to raise his voice and he knew exactly the horrors you had lived through ever since you were a child.

_ "Y/n are you alright? Look at me please. I didn't mean to snap out I'm sorry." His voice was soft and warm. He wanted to touch you, to hold you close, but he didn't know if you were okay with it.

You lowered your hands and looked at his remorseful face. You knew he loved you, and you knew he wouldn't purposely hurt you, and most importantly, you wanted to be in his arms at the moment.

You jumped into his embrace and he held you tightly kissing your shoulder and resting his chin on top of your head.

_ "I love you y/n and I would destroy the world for you."

Shinsou :

Was it the first time you two got into an argument? No. Has it ever lasted more than a couple of minutes? Absolutely not. Then what was it this time? Why were you hugging him from behind and bawling your eyes out?

_ "I'm sorry, I was wrong. Please stay, I promise I'll do better." You begged him through your sobs.

His eyes widened as realization hit him, and he turned around snatching your arm and pulling you into his chest.

Of course you would react the way you did after he turned around to leave the apartment.

You never wanted to be involved with anyone to begin with, you were content carrying on by yourself after everyone around you had left. But he was different, he was good to you, and he made you truly happy.

You trusted him more than anyone else in the world and he loathed himself for triggering all your anxieties, even if it was the last thing he wanted.

_ "Babe listen to me carefully, I am yours and you are mine until the end of times, and there is nothing that can change this. I love you and I always will." His tone was calming, and his touch was soothing.. same as always.

You nodded against his chest and felt his fingers gently caressing your back while his lips traced your neck and shoulder.

You looked up to find a pained pair of eyes gazing at you.

You smiled lovingly and stood on your tiptoes until you reached his lips and captured them in a passionate kiss.

The Space Between Us ੈ✩‧₊˚

Shigaraki x reader fluff

At first Shigaraki acted indifferent towards you. You were hired to be a part of the league of villains because they needed every person they could get to be able to take down the heroes. When you first got there everyone loved you, everyone except for Tomura. It was as if you didn’t exist to him, he never made eye contact with you, never spoke to you, he wouldnt even stand close to you when the two of you were in the same room.

The night was your only time of peace, once everyone had gone to bed you got to escape to the common room to play your favourite game. It was very peaceful, getting your moment of privacy to slip into the comfort of your games.

One night when most of the team had gone out on an overnight mission, you thought it was safe to go out earlier than usual since shigaraki never left his room. It was only the two of you at the house. You sat on the couch pulling up the blanket making yourself comfortable. You decided on your favourite PVP game, zooming through the levels as you felt yourself escaping from reality.

You see a light in the hallway appear as a door slowly swings open, Shigaraki slowly walking out. You thought he would ignore you like he always does, but this time he stops to watch you play.

After that night, things began to change. When you went downstairs to play your game, shigaraki was already sitting on the opposite side of the couch, almost as if he was waiting for you. He was already playing, he just stuck his hand out holding a controller, offering for you to play with him, as if it were just a normal thing. This became a new routine.

At first things were a little awkward, the two of you didn’t talk very much, just laughing every so often when one of you would die or annoyed groans of frustration. He would never admit it but he liked the sound of your luahgter- dying on purpose just to hear you giggling.

Slowly as time went on, things got less awkward. They two of you slowly started to talk more, he would ask you questions about yourself. He would ask you about other games you liked, what your favourtie candies were, tiny things like that. He once asked you how you got so good at the game that he loved. “Oh so you actually like something?” you joked with him. He rolled his eyes, but you caught the slight curve of the corner of his mouth.

You started to notice that Shigaraki would pay more attention to you outside of your daily video game time. Whether it be him staring at you during team meetings or him always somehow ending up in the same room as you, he just always seemed to be around. You caught him staring at your hands while the two of you would play games and when he thought you were distracted he would stare at your smile.

As more and more time went on you started to feel as this was how it was supposed to be, just the two of you together laughing and having a good time.

Then the night of the storm came. The thunder and lightning crackled outside as rain pounded down on the window. You were curled up next to him, a blanket shared between you like always, when the screen suddenly flickers and then goes out. Fuck, the power had gone out. The both of you sat quietly for a second wondering what to do. “Well I guess this means I win” you joked but he stayed silent. You turn to look at him expecting him to be staring at the black screen but instead he is already staring at you.

“Don’t leave yet, let's see if the power will go back on soon.” He said to you, his voice was barely above a whisper. Scratchy, almost reluctant, like the words scraped their way out of his throat. Of course you wanted to stay, you wanted to stay with him forever. “I won't go anywhere dont worry.” you say to him, his gaze dropping as he tries to cover the fact that he's blushing with the hood of his sweater. You drop the control and curl back up on the couch, the space between the two of you feeling as if it had gotten smaller.

With your hands now free, your fingers were brushing up against his everys so often. He notices- of course he notices. You wonder if he is going to pull away, like he usually would, but this time he doesnt. Instead he puts his hand closer, his pinkey slowly touching yours, his moves are cautious, like he doesnt know if doing this will destroy the whole world. He leaves his pinky there as your body holds still. You glance over at him, a soft smile begins to spread across your face as you notice he's staring at you, blushing.

“Is this okay?” He says, his voice a little shakey, but very gentle. You didnt answer him with any words, you instead shifted your hand so it was directly underneath his. His gaze not leaving your hands once, almost as if he doesnt believe that this is really happening. It's like he doesnt believe that something this comforting, this safe, does exist. Shigaraki was letting you grab his hand, your fingers intertwining slowly. For once in Shigaraki's life, he believes that not everything he touches has to fall apart.

If you guys like this I’ll make a part 2!!