Tomura Shiragaki - Blog Posts

More random mha character sketches —

I'll probably do this more since it lets me draw a variety of characters without any apparent reason for them being there

Baby doomed ships

OC incrustation ~

I've tried to reproduce Horikoshi's style as best I can, even if I think I could have done much better…

Spoil MHA Chap. 429

I hate Horikoshi

Hey! In the preview of the next episode I saw this screen and ... no it just wasn't Tomura, so I took the liberty of correcting it a bit and adding the art direction of the new opening 💛

The Gamer Team 🤍💛💚

Non-canon to my lore but I like to imagine a Shigaraki x Ryune x Spinner ~

Heyoooo

I tested some of D.A's suggestion for some of MHA's Season 7 shots. For Toga, I don't know what the weather is like at the moment. But I tested a cloudier and more threatening sky. For Tomura, I realized that his fight against Star and Stripes was supposed to take place in the stratosphere. I therefore tested an A.D. taking this parameter into account.

i don't think spinner thought tomura was being honest about kissing him...

i don't think horikoshi has ever seen a reptile cause why the hell does spinner look like that

anyways i based him on an anole instead of a gecko because anoles are very very good at climbing and imo spinner looks more like an anole than a gecko

Shiggy <3333

my little design for shigaraki

he's just a baby,,,

Devourer

Devourer by TripleBerry (Rieka)

Izuku will be a hero, because there is no other option.

He will save everyone, because there is no other option.

And he will eat them whole, because there is no other option.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This interrogation is classified, only to be viewed by those with information clearance Class 11 or above. If you do not have the stated clearance, please do not continue to listen to this interrogation. Failure to comply with these restrictions will result in a fine of 66% of all assets, income, and accounts, as is stated in the Selective Information Act of 2151, section B, subsection iii. Criminal charges may also be pressed.”

The recorder sputtered, before beeping.

“Hello, my name is Tsukauchi Naomasa, detective of the Major Crimes Division of the Shizuoka Prefecture, serving at station 577 in Musutafu. My quirk is called Lie Detector, registration number 321459301. I will be explicitly stating whether a given response is a truth or a lie. Alright, All Might. Let’s begin. For the record, can you please state your name, age, quirk, and date of birth…”

The hand-held recorder popped and sputtered. A gloved hand slammed down near it, causing it to jump. It popped once more, before continuing to play.

“Toshinori Yagi, age fifty-two, quirkless, birthday, June 10th.”

“Thank you,” papers rustled loudly, and the voices after were muffled. The detective had placed a file over his recorder, “Now, will you please state your relation to the villain All for One?”

“He’s my son.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Also known as: Izuku was born to fight All for One.

they get along great

Reference to my fanfiction, The Hero's Complex!

[MHA / LoZ / Saiki K / JJK / Danganronpa] So many fandoms, so little time...

I actually drew these a while ago (like a month ago) and am not super happy with all of them, BUT I do like how I drew some of them so I'm gonna post it.

Maybe it'll help some people get to know me better? I'm definitely gonna draw more of these characters/fandoms in the future except for maybe Danganronpa characters lol

Experimenting with colors

(A part of the Winged/Hero Commission Izuku AU) I was giggling and kicking and kicking my feet while drawing drawing this ngl.

Steampunk shigaraki has me twirling my hair and kicking my feet because who told him to look so mafia boss.

Jinx & The League of Villains

I think Jinx from LOL/Arcane would fit in with the League of Villains. She’s not as powerful as most MHA characters, but her marksmanship, her inventions, and shimmer-enhanced physicality would be very useful. The only negative I could think of with her joining the League would be her mental state, but it wouldn’t be a big issue since Twice endures a similar mental illness.

I think she would get along with most of the LOV members. Jinx’s backstory is similar to Toga, Dabi, and Shiggy. With Toga, both were rejected by family because of their true selves. Dabi could relate to Jinx kind of being overshadowed by Vi since it happened to him with Shoto, although in a way worse degree. Like Shiggy, Jinx (accidentally) killed her family, was taken in, and adopted a new name.

Jinx and Twice would understand each other’s struggles with their identities while Compress would respect her showmanship during fights. Although she would most likely get along with Spinner the least, I think they would bond over the discrimination they face.

do you think kurogiri sees the back of dabi (black hair), toga (blonde hair) and shigarakis heads (blue hair) together and part of him is reminded of when he was with aizawa and yamada

might draw this later

Another commemorative art, This time my dear Tenko.

💛 Love him so much

hii. hope everything is well with you :)

if you’re not too busy can I request a shigaraki x online gamer friend reader. where he becomes friends with a random girl he met while playing league or something (modern au).

maybe even a meet up or something. tyyy!!

"Lagging Hearts"

Shigaraki Tomura wasn’t supposed to care about anyone online. He liked the distance. The screen, the anonymity, the safety of being just a name on a friend list. But then he queued up for a late-night ranked match in League of Legends, and everything started glitching—emotionally speaking.

He met you by chance. Your username—“Pix3lGrrl”—was the kind of cringe he'd usually block. But you locked in midlane fast, started typing callouts in team chat like a drill sergeant, and your sarcasm matched his beat for beat.

“Garen support? Wow. Peak performance,” you typed.

He smirked. Okay, maybe she’s not awful.

One game became three. Then ten. Then nightly Discord calls. You tilted like a pro, cursed like a sailor, and still somehow made him laugh when his fingers were twitching to decay the world.

“You ever stop touching your face when you’re mad?” you teased during a losing streak.

He choked on his soda. “How the hell do you know that?”

“You always stop talking right before you screw up a teamfight. It’s, like, your rage silence.”

He didn’t reply right away. He was too busy… smiling?

—

Weeks passed. He didn’t tell you who he was—what he was. You didn’t ask. It was kind of perfect. The late-night games, the trash talk, your sleepy voice when it got too late and the ranked queue became ARAMs “just for fun.” He found himself waiting for the little Discord chime that said you were online like it was a drug.

One night, after a particularly nasty loss streak, you groaned, “I need a break. Let’s just talk.”

And he did. For hours.

You made him laugh so hard his screen shook. You called him “crusty king” and he didn’t even hate it. You told him about your cat, your weird neighbor, the way your keyboard was missing the F key but you were too lazy to fix it.

He thought about telling you. About his hands. His past. His real name.

Instead, he just asked, “Wanna queue again tomorrow?”

You replied instantly. “Always.”

—

He didn't know what this was—just a gamer friend or something dangerously close to real—but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like disconnecting.

---

It was your idea to meet.

“Well, technically,” you said, “I’m being bribed with bubble tea. But yeah. Let’s meet.”

Shigaraki stared at the message for a full minute. His thumb hovered over the reply button. He’d never seen your face, and you’d never seen his. It had been months now—countless games, DMs, weird late-night rants about anime betrayals and which champions needed nerfs.

He wasn’t ready.

But he said yes anyway.

—

You picked a little gaming café downtown. Neon lights. LED keyboards. The smell of instant noodles and too many Monster cans. You wore a hoodie, same as him, and your hair was a little messier than your Discord icon implied—but it was you. He knew it immediately.

You were sitting with a boba and a Switch, tapping your foot to some lo-fi remix. You looked up and smiled.

“Crusty King?” you teased.

He almost turned around and left.

Instead, he gave a dry little laugh and slid into the seat across from you. “Pix3lGrrl. Didn’t expect you to look so… normal.”

You arched a brow. “Thanks? Didn’t expect you to look like a villain from a dystopian anime.”

He froze.

Your smile faltered for half a second, and then you recovered. “Kidding. I mean—you’ve got the vibe. Grumpy, gray hair, twitchy fingers. Kind of hot, though.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Nothing.”

You both sipped your drinks. Played a couple rounds of Smash on the café’s Switch dock. Laughed a lot. It felt almost like home. Like a weird dream.

But then you leaned in, really looked at him, and asked, “Hey… what do you do, anyway? You’ve never said.”

His hand twitched—just once. He quickly put it in his hoodie pocket. His mouth went dry.

“I… break things.”

You laughed. “Okay, edgy. What does that mean?”

He paused. Then whispered, “My name’s not really Ten.”

“Wait.” Your smile dimmed. “What?”

“I’m Tomura. Shigaraki Tomura.”

You went still.

You knew the name. Everybody did. The guy who vanished after the League crumbled. The one with a death count and a face like a warning sign.

You looked at him, really looked, and then said quietly, “And you… you play Jhin in ranked.”

He blinked. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

You smiled slowly, something tender and a little heartbroken. “You’ve got four kills, and I’m starting to think I’m one of them.”

He opened his mouth—but you held up a hand.

“I'm not running. Just… give me a sec to update my patch notes, alright?”

And then, in the same breath, you asked, “You still down to queue tonight?”

|| WHAT THE FUCKING RIGHT DO YOU THINK YOU HAVE TO TALK ABOUT TENKO/SHIGARAKI IF YOU DON'T EVEN HELPED HIM YOU DAMN UGLY OLD WOMAN!?! ||

⤷ KENMA KOZUME, L LAWLIET, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, iguro obanai, shoto todoroki, TOMURA SHIGARAKI, GIYUU TOMIOKA, xiao, MATT JEEVAS, choso kamo, genya shinazugawa, SHUN KAIDO

I’m gonna reenact something that happened during the end of class today

Friend: oh my god dude, look

*shows me a sick ass drawing of all might one of the other kids did on the back of a board*

Me: oh that’s so cool-

*activate Shigaraki*

Eugh, what the fuck why is he here?

Their death has always felt like it ruined the story in some way. A story about saving people and hero society being corrupt only for said victims to die in the end? I can’t make sense of it

the illusion of free will

people say shigaraki is responsible for the deaths he caused, and while i don’t completely deny that, it’s way more complicated than just “free will.” what people miss is that he was groomed from the age of five, when he was at his most vulnerable until he finally broke free from afo’s grasp. afo deliberately took him in at a point where he was completely dependent on others for guidance, then shaped him into the perfect successor.

to shigaraki, his master wasn’t just a villain, he was his savior, the only one who “understood” him, the only one who gave him a sense of purpose after the world abandoned him. and that’s exactly how manipulation works. afo didn’t just take him in, he rewired his entire mind, fed him lies, reinforced his hatred, and conditioned him to believe that destruction was his only salvation. shigaraki never had a chance to form his own worldview because afo made sure to mold it for him.

look at shigaraki’s reaction when he was separated from afo, it wasn’t just anger, it was pure desperation. that’s the reaction of someone who has been so deeply conditioned that he doesn’t know how to function outside of his abuser’s influence. shigaraki was entirely dependent on afo, and when you’re raised under constant manipulation, you don’t suddenly “wake up” and realize you’ve been controlled your whole life.

it doesn’t work that way. when he saw all might trying to save bakugo while attacking the league, he felt betrayed by the world all over again. to him, it was proof that heroes will never save people like him. but that idea wasn’t his, it was something afo planted in his mind for years, reinforcing it over and over until shigaraki believed it as an absolute truth. so when afo was no longer there, what was left? nothing but the doctrine his master forced onto him. if he wasn’t groomed, if he wasn’t brainwashed into thinking destruction was his only option, then he would have taken another path. but that was never an option for him because he never had the freedom to choose in the first place. as afo himself admitted, shigaraki never had free will. none of his choices were ever his own.

compare this to dabi and toga. they were abused, but they never had an outside force controlling them like afo did with shigaraki. they became villains on their own terms, dabi out of revenge, toga out of rejection from society. but shigaraki? his entire ideology was forced onto him. if afo had gotten to shoto instead, then shoto would have ended up just like shigaraki.

and here’s the worst part; nobody in the story even questions it. if horikoshi wanted us to humanize the villains, then he should have given them a humanizing death, something that forced people to acknowledge what they went through and how they ended up like this. but instead, nobody even stops to ask why afo had to groom a child into being his successor. nobody wonders why japan’s greatest villain was so reliant on manipulating a mentally ill, traumatized young man into doing his bidding. they just see shigaraki as a monster.

shigaraki never had a choice, but the world acts like he did.

the illusion of free will

people say shigaraki is responsible for the deaths he caused, and while i don’t completely deny that, it’s way more complicated than just “free will.” what people miss is that he was groomed from the age of five, when he was at his most vulnerable until he finally broke free from afo’s grasp. afo deliberately took him in at a point where he was completely dependent on others for guidance, then shaped him into the perfect successor.

to shigaraki, his master wasn’t just a villain, he was his savior, the only one who “understood” him, the only one who gave him a sense of purpose after the world abandoned him. and that’s exactly how manipulation works. afo didn’t just take him in, he rewired his entire mind, fed him lies, reinforced his hatred, and conditioned him to believe that destruction was his only salvation. shigaraki never had a chance to form his own worldview because afo made sure to mold it for him.

look at shigaraki’s reaction when he was separated from afo, it wasn’t just anger, it was pure desperation. that’s the reaction of someone who has been so deeply conditioned that he doesn’t know how to function outside of his abuser’s influence. shigaraki was entirely dependent on afo, and when you’re raised under constant manipulation, you don’t suddenly “wake up” and realize you’ve been controlled your whole life.

it doesn’t work that way. when he saw all might trying to save bakugo while attacking the league, he felt betrayed by the world all over again. to him, it was proof that heroes will never save people like him. but that idea wasn’t his, it was something afo planted in his mind for years, reinforcing it over and over until shigaraki believed it as an absolute truth. so when afo was no longer there, what was left? nothing but the doctrine his master forced onto him. if he wasn’t groomed, if he wasn’t brainwashed into thinking destruction was his only option, then he would have taken another path. but that was never an option for him because he never had the freedom to choose in the first place. as afo himself admitted, shigaraki never had free will. none of his choices were ever his own.

compare this to dabi and toga. they were abused, but they never had an outside force controlling them like afo did with shigaraki. they became villains on their own terms, dabi out of revenge, toga out of rejection from society. but shigaraki? his entire ideology was forced onto him. if afo had gotten to shoto instead, then shoto would have ended up just like shigaraki.

and here’s the worst part; nobody in the story even questions it. if horikoshi wanted us to humanize the villains, then he should have given them a humanizing death, something that forced people to acknowledge what they went through and how they ended up like this. but instead, nobody even stops to ask why afo had to groom a child into being his successor. nobody wonders why japan’s greatest villain was so reliant on manipulating a mentally ill, traumatized young man into doing his bidding. they just see shigaraki as a monster.

shigaraki never had a choice, but the world acts like he did.

she prolly smacked his head with the brush and told him to go take a bath

Shigaraki x Barista Reader

“Your Number.” (Fluff)

Danm it...

DANM IT!.

it was you again... the same woman who'd always be working in the coffee shop. your usual 9 to 4 shift,Saturdays to Wednesdays to where on Thursday, to Saturday youd do your daily chores, errands or relaxing...

There you were again... and again... every morning handing Tomura his usual Plain coffee with two sugar packets and you could never forget his stirring stick.

Once again in a repeated schedule Tomura would go every morning only during the days when you work at 10 am for his coffee, 9 was too early to see you.. he didn't seem THAT desperate for your attention but later on he had to things... 10... well.. 10 was perfect.

This had been his routine now, to get this coffee and see you behind that counter... the place was nearly always empty when Tomura was there but he didn't mind that at all...

He was here just for you after all...

He'd always have his snarky yet bold attitude towards you... yet you never minded?

He couldn't help to wonder why...did he hate it? Maybe... Maybe not?

Even when he wasn't in his best moods and was acting all cocky and harsh you'd still be nice.

It'd been pissing him off for quite awhile now... his anger with your kindness, your niceness towards his bullshit... you never called him out, never insulted him, never made any bad remarks or said anything rude. Just the same

'good morning!',

'what can I get for you?' bullshit. What did you think of him? Really... Did you even think he was attractive, or cool... or funny? Or was he just like some rude customer you put up with... what the hell were you thinking...?

It was driving him nuts, his mind racing... he just had to know what you were thinking... maybe you thought he was attractive, maybe you even found him attractive and cute, or at the least charming... it's not like he was some hideous creature or anything... his thoughts started to become more and more lewd and intrusive as his eyes slowly traced your body from behind the counter... damn it... His eyes started wandering down your body, thinking about what you looked like underneath your uniform, your skirt and your top and... dammit all-

He began to feel a slight heat rising to his face, quickly covering his reddening cheeks with his hand, scratching his cheek with his long, bitten back nails. This was a bad habit of his when he got nervous.

“Damnit... no no no...” he mumbled, rubbing his fingers over his rough neck, trying to quell the intrusive thoughts that we're growing more and more prominent in his head. He was getting all worked up over a woman just because she was nice to him, and she was attractive... he let out a low, exasperated sigh, his eyes remaining fixated on you the entire time while you prepared his coffee.

He continued to stare at you from where he stood, letting his eyes travel up and down your form, tracing every detail of your figure. He found himself becoming increasingly distracted, trying (and failing) to control his thoughts.

It's all your fault... you were too damn nice, too nice to a person like him, and that was just encouraging the thoughts he was having about you...

His scratching suddenly became more intense as he became more and more agitated... he felt trapped. Trapped in this seemingly endless cycle of infatuation and desire, unable to escape the hold you had over him. He needed to say something, anything, to break the silence between the both of you. Taking a deep breath, he hesitantly looked back up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and something else he wouldn't admit.

As he continued to stare he couldn't help but to wonder... would you be into him?

He could have sworn you Knew he was a villain. The moment where one day he had accident let down his mask in front if you as you stood in shock but quickly composed yourself to continue on and take his order.

He knew he wasn't the typical ideal type, He was too much of a dick, too standoffish with an attitude that didn't help much at all with making him approachable. He was awkward, he knew that much, his awkwardness could be endearing in some ways... but it would probably be a major turn off for most people.

His thoughts continued to race as he tried to figure you out.

'Fuck it.' Was all that rang in his mind as he subconsciously moved his body towards you.

'wait... wait..! Stop-... stop moving-!' His mind panicked as he stood infront of the counter as you looked up at him with a tilting head of confusion

"Do you need something sir?" You curiously asked

Dammit... he cursed himself, internally facepalming as he realised what he was doing, his eyes darting to the floor in embarrassment.

Why was it so damn hard to just ask... you...

It's was as if something was holding him back, like something inside him was keeping him from spitting it out. He felt pathetic, standing in front of you like a shy teenager with a crush.

As he heard you speak, he suddenly became acutely aware of the way you addressed him.

Sir? Why was it 'sir...' he was only twenty for Christ sake...

He scratched his neck again, trying to hide his reddened cheeks.

"I'd... like your number..." he mumbled, trying to sound as disinterested as possible as he forced himself to look up into your face, his eyes avoiding direct eye contact, instead focusing on the counter.

He knew it was a direct request and maybe a little bit sudden... but it had been gnawing at him for months now and he just... he just couldn't keep it in anymore.

"I'm sorry?" You furrowed your brows in confusion you didn’t hear him through his mumbles, you leaned over the counter to hear him better. He leaned forwards, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he repeated himself a bit more clearly.

"I asked for your number..."

He was so close, the only thing separating them was the counter top itself. He could smell the faint scent of pertume on you, as well as faint traces of coffee that clung to your clothing and skin.

Number? Like your employee number?….

"Is there a complaint you'd like to do?" You looked up at him with worry. Did your services not satisfy him? Was it a complain?

He let out an annoyed grunt, rolling his eyes at your confusion.

"No, no... there's no complaint... I just..." he paused, his mind running in circles trying to find the words to say.

"I just, I-" he was getting flustered again, his heart racing in his chest as he looked at you. He had come all this way, he was so close to asking... so why did he feel so damn nervous?

Your eyes furrowed deeply as you tried to understand his stuttered words.

He cursed internally, frustrated by his inability to express himself properly. He knew he probably looked like a complete idiot right now, standing there and stammering like an imbecile, but he just couldn't push the words out.

This was so damn frustrating...

He knew what he wanted, he knew what to ask for but his damn mind and mouth just weren't cooperating.

He took a deep breath and tried again.

"just-" he started, still refusing to make eye contact with you. His fingers dug into the edge of the counter as he tried to calm his racing heartbeat.

"Just... give me your number... please..." Please? he thought in disbelief. He rarely used please... hell, he hardly ever said please. But somehow it just slipped out without him realising.

His heart beat faster as he waited for your response, mentally preparing himself for the possibility of rejection...

"M-m-my number?" You stuttered out as your cheeks rose red, as you began to realize he wanted your number. sure you'd get asked for your number not often but time to time by a couple of different men. But during work? With a customer you Knew was a villain? You wanted to decline but danm it you've been crushing on him for what? The longest he's ever came to the shop?

He couldn't help but notice the way your cheeks became flushed, a slight blush spreading across your face. For some reason that made his gut twist in a way he wasn't quite used to...

He leaned a bit further forwards, his eyes darting from the counter, to your face and back again, hoping that his intense look wasn't too off putting.

"Yes... your number..." he repeated, the words leaving his mouth a bit more firmly this time. He was nervous, anxious even, but he was determined to get what he came for.

"O-oh...o-okay um.." you nervously shuffled through the counter to find a pen and paper

He couldn't believe it. You were actually... agreeing? That was unexpected.

He'd thought you'd turn him down, maybe say your weren't interested, or that it was against policy for employees to give out their personal information to customers...

He watched you intently as you searched through the storage underneath the counter, his heart thumping in his chest.

He couldn't stop himself from scratching at his neck again...

"Hurry up..." he mumbled, his impatience growing with every second that passed.

He wanted your number, he needed your number as soon as possible.

He glanced around, noticing how some of the other customers were shooting him weird looks from their seats, probably wondering why he was leaned over the counter so much.

He grumbled under his breath, wishing they would mind there own damn business...

You finally found a pen and ripped an empty recipe paper nervously writing down your number as you bit the inside your your cheek.

He watched as you hastily scribbled your number down, his eyes eagerly following the movement of your hand.

His heart rate was increasing by the second, the anxiousness and anticipation was almost too much for him to handle.

He leaned himself forwards even further, his arms pressing against the counter as he craned his neck to get a better view of the number you were putting down.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, you stopped writing, ripping the piece of paper from the recipe book and holding it out to him.

He stared at it for a moment, his eyes fixed on the numbers you had written on it.

This was it. Your number... he could finally have a direct way of communicating with you...

He quickly snatched the piece of paper out of your hand, holding it between his fingers as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

He could feel the excitement building inside of him, his pulse racing as he folded the piece of paper and stuffed it into his pocket.

He looked back up at you, and for a split second, he almost felt like he was on cloud nine. But just as quickly as the feeling came, the reality of what he had just done hit him like a truck.

He'd just gotten the number of a woman he had zero chances of actually getting, and he didn't even know how to talk to women. He was in way over his head already.

He quickly attempted to school his expression, trying to maintain his usual bored and nonchalant expression, not wanting to let on how much this interaction had affected him.

But as he stared at your nervous expression and flushed cheeks, he realised he was failing miserably. He could feel his own face heating up, the tips of his ears feeling warm as the realisation hit him. He cleared his throat, attempting to compose himself before speaking.

"Thanks..." he mumbled, his voice coming out more gruffly than he had intended.

He knew he should probably say something else, anything else, but he was tongue tied.

His mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to think of something to say to make this situation less awkward. He fidgeted with the paper in his pocket, his fingers tracing over the numbers written on it.

"U-um-…T-thank you..." you softly spoke as you looked at his hidden features. Your ears were dusted with a hue of red as you looked up at him with the most loving eyes. He couldn't help but notice the way your eyes softened as you spoke, the look of admiration and affection in your gaze making his heart skip a beat.

He felt a sudden rush of heat to his cheeks, his body reacting involuntarily to your look.

He quickly looked away, desperately trying to hide the effect you were having on him.

"Whatever..." he mumbled, attempting to sound disinterested and unbothered but failing miserably.

He dug his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, his fingers gripping the piece of paper that held your number. He knew he should probably leave now, he had gotten what he came for, after all... but something was stopping him from walking out the door.

He glanced back at you, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment too long before he spoke up again. "I..uh, I should get going..."

"Y-yeah um-" you cleared your throat before continuing

"yea... thank you for...coming,"

He nodded in response, his heart beating a little faster as he realised that this was it, he was actually leaving.

"Yeah, no problem...thanks..for your number ..again." he mumbled, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

He started to slowly back away from the counter, his eyes still fixed on you. He didn't want to leave, he wanted to stay here and talk to you, but he knew he couldn't.

"I'll..see you around..." he finally managed to say, giving you one last glance before turning and making his way towards the door.

“Y-yeah..”

As you watched him leave you felt your heart flutter with nervousness... excitement...happiness..., you held on to your chest with quivered lips as you watched him leave.

He pushed the doors open, stepping out into the bustling mall. He could feel his heart beating faster than usual, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He put his hands in his pockets again, his fingers automatically tracing over the piece of paper that had your number.

He could still smell the faint scent of perfume and coffee lingering in his nostrils, a constant reminder of just how close he had been to you.

As he walked through the mall, he couldn't help but feel a sense of disbelief.

He, a villain, had just gotten the number of a cute, innocent worker. He smirked, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he thought about the whole interaction. It was so cliché, so movie-like, he felt like a damn fool. He had acted like a bumbling idiot almost the whole time, stuttering and blushing like a preteen boy with a crush.

He shook his head, trying to snap himself out of his thoughts. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn't forget the way you looked at him.

It replayed over and over in his mind, a never ending loop of your soft eyes and flushed cheeks.

As he continued to walk, he suddenly realised something.He had no idea what to do with your number.Sure, he had it now, but what was he supposed to do with it? Text you? Call you? He wasn't even sure if you'd actually respond.

He cursed under his breath, shoving his hands further into his pockets as he tried to figure out his next move. He considered just throwing the piece of paper away, it would probably save him a lot of trouble in the long run...

But as much as he tried to convince himself, he couldn't bring himself to do it. The thought of letting go of your number, of losing the only direct way he had of communicating with you, was too much for him to bear.

He needed that number, he had to have it. It was like some kind of sick obsession, the need to have this small piece of paper was driving him insane.

He grumbled to himself, frustrated by the conflicting emotions coursing through him. He didn't understand it, he didn't understand why he felt so drawn to you, why he felt this intense desire to have your attention. He had never felt like this before, not for anyone. It was like you had a hold on him, a power over him that he couldn't break free from.

He wasn't even sure if he wanted to break free, that's what worried him. He was becoming too attached to you, too obsessed...

As he continued walking, he suddenly caught sight of his reflection in a store window.

He looked a mess, his hair was sticking up at odd angles, his eyes were wide and dilated, and his cheeks were flushed red.

He quickly looked away, cursing under his breath again. Why did he look so damn flushed? Why was he acting like some love sick fool?

He gritted his teeth, feeling a wave of self loathing wash over him. It was pathetic, it was... embarrassing. He couldn't let anyone know how he was acting, they'd think he was weak, soft. It was bad enough that you had probably noticed his odd behaviour, if anyone else found out he'd never hear the end of it.

He had been walking for what felt like forever, his mind a tangled mess of thoughts and feelings. He was becoming frustrated, irritated at himself for being such a coward.

He had you number, he could text you right now if he wanted to... but he didn't know what to say.

He didn't want to come across as too forceful or inappropriate...

He let out an annoyed sigh, pulling the piece of paper out of his pocket again and staring down at the numbers scrawled on it.

He could feel the paper crumpling under his grip, his fist clenching subconsciously as he looked at it. as he stared down at the paper, reading the numbers over and over again, he knew it was pointless to try and deny it.

He was obsessed with you, completely and utterly obsessed. He couldn't go an hour without thinking about you, wondering what you were doing, if you were thinking about him...

He was a goner, and he knew it.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly unlocking it placing in your number, opening up the messaging app.

He stared at the screen, watching the cursor blink silently as he tried to gather his thoughts.

What did he say? Should he be direct and straight to the point? Should he try to be casual and charismatic? Should he text you right away or wait until later?

He groaned in frustration, his fingers hovering over the keyboard but unable to type anything.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He had to do this, he had to send you a message. It didn't matter what it said, as long as he got the chance to talk to you.

He started a new message, staring at the blinking cursor again.

"Hey" he typed, then immediately deleting it. No, that was too casual. Too generic. He needed something more unique, something that would grab your attention.

He tried again, his fingers moving furiously over the keys.

"Sup?" No, that was too casual. Too dismissive. He didn't want to sound disinterested.

He backspaced again, trying a different approach.

"Hello." No, that was too formal. Too abrupt. It would make him sound like a creep.

He cursed under his breath, struggling to find the right words to say.

He didn't want to come across as too desperate or too casual. He had to find the sweet spot, the perfect message that would get your attention without sounding clingy or creepy.

He tried again, his fingers trembling as he typed.

"Hey, it's me..." he typed, then quickly deleted it. No, that was too vague. That would make you question who he was.

He grumbled to himself, getting more and more frustrated by the second.

He knew he was overthinking this, making a mountain out of a molehill...

But something about you just made his brain turn to mush.

He took another deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

He had to just bite the bullet and type something, anything. It didn't matter what, as long as it got the conversation started.

He typed quickly, before he had a chance to second guess himself.

‘It's Tomura.’ he wrote, then quickly typed another message.

‘The guy who came into the coffee store earlier.’

'Black hoodie and blueish hair?’ You replied in a instant.

He chuckled at your description, his heart fluttering a bit at the fact that you remembered what he was wearing.

'Yeah, that's me.' he typed, a small, barely noticeable smile gracing his lips.

Tomura x reader (smut)

“Messaging.”

New message from -BRAT-

‘Hey’

‘Y/n I'm busy’

He texts back a few minutes later, his annoyance in the short reply was almost palpable. Sheesh.

‘What ya doing?’

Tomura groans reading your next message and rolls his eyes. Did you not understand the concept of him being busy? He was in the middle of something, he didn't have time to chat

‘I told you I'm busy.’

He quickly texts back, his patience was already wearing thin.

'Right haha sorry’

Tomura can't help but scoff at how quickly you gave up-annoyed that you apologized and didn't press further. He was expecting more of a back and forth but not even a minute later you apologized and backed down.

‘Don't be such a pushover’

He texts back with a bit of annoyance, but not necessarily at you, more so he wanted you to put up a fight

He sighs, tapping his foot impatiently against the floor as he glances around the small room. It's a rather boring room-grey walls, grey carpet, and a single bed in the corner. He was staying in a shitty motel for the night since it was already getting late.

He glances at his phone, seeing you hadn't replied yet. He was hoping you'd respond but was starting to think you didn't feel like it. He didn't think he had been too rude earlier...

"Tch..."

He mumbles quietly, scrolling through a shitty phone game to pass time. The more time that passed with you not replying, the more he started to overthink.

Usually you'd keep pushing him, yet for some reason today you hadn't. It was annoying how much you were suddenly acting so passive.

He checks his phone one more time to see if you had answered yet but sighs seeing the last message was still his.

Tomura puts his phone down on the bed, running a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. He felt a small pang in his chest— something akin to guilt or regret. Was he being too rude earlier? He didn't think so but he was used to you being feisty and pushing back...

He rolls over onto his back and glances up at the ceiling, staring at a stain in the corner as thoughts start swirling around in his head. He really was overthinking this.

'Sorry I was taking a shower’

Tomura feels slight relief at finally getting a response from you, but also gets strangely annoyed all of a sudden. He can't understand why you apologizing again irks him this time—he just feels pissed at the fact that you're being so submissive, so obedient. Why weren't you pushing back?

‘Didn't ask’

He texts back quickly with a scoff, his response sarcastic and bitchy

'Bitch.'

Tomura doesn't expect that kind of response. His eyes widen a little in shock and he slowly sits up on the bed. He smirks at your words and laughs quietly to himself — there you were, finally putting up a fight.

‘Good to know you haven't lost your attitude’

He texts back, hoping to get some type of conversation going. It was boring as hell and he was starting to be antsy.

‘Whatever I was trying to be nice but all I see is a pissy boyfriend’

Tomura is a bit taken back at being called "pissy". He was more annoyed and bored if anything, but you were right about the boyfriend part. He was being a bit sour.

‘Shut up. I'm not pissy I'm just busy and your ass kept messaging me even though I told you so. You're the one being a pain in my ass right now.’

He texts back, a tinge of irritation in his words even though he's kinda amused

'Two messages are you dense?'

‘Doesn't matter how many times you texted. I still said I'm busy and told you to knock it off.’

He rolls his eyes, getting a tad more annoyed that you're being a smart ass but not too annoyed to not entertain it. As much as he can't admit it, he did miss your little back-and-forth. It was interesting. Plus having someone to chat with distracted him from the boredom currently taking over his thoughts.

‘Whatever are you still busy? Or are you with your side piece?'

Tomura can practically feel himself getting more irritable by the minute. How little did you trust him? Why would you automatically assume he'd go and see another woman? The fact that it kinda stung that you'd think that pissed him off

‘You know damn well I'm not with a side piece. Besides who in their right mind would even put up with me?’

He texts back, leaning back against the headboard of the crappy motel bed with a huff

‘Unfortunately me.'

‘Shut up. You make it sound like putting up with me is a chore’

He grumbles, not amused at your sarcastic comeback. He wants to say something harsh to you to get you riled up but can't find the words that won't make him sound like a jackass. So he keeps it short and simple, and thankfully his next message from you pops up on his phone before he has time to think too much on what to say next. He looks at your response and huffs, shaking his head as he types back.

'It is babe.'

Tomura can feel himself get more worked up by each text from you. You were really being a sarcastic ass today. He couldn't even deny the fact that you were correct in what you said. It was usually a chore to put up with him and he knew that... but that didn't mean it hurt any less to be reminded of it— by his own partner no less.

‘Shut it. Be nice to me damnit’

'I tried to be and you called me a pushover.'

Tomura's hands clench into fists as he reads the last message. You were right, you did try being nice and he essentially just told you to shove off. He's starting to feel guilty... but of course he can't show that

‘That's 'cause you'd been acting like one by apologizing and backing off so damn quickly’

‘I forgot you like it when I get all bitchy'

Tomura has to bite back a grin at your last message. The fact that you were fully aware of how he liked it when you were snarky and challenging was amusing to him. It was also a slight turn on too...

‘You damn right I do. I like you better when you're biting back.’

'whateverrr. Hurry up and get home.'

Tomura feels a small sense of giddyness at your next message. You wanted him to come home. You missed him? He can feel the corners of his lips tug up into a small, uncharacteristic grin

‘I will. I'm almost done up here then I'll be back. Still can't believe you're being so clingy though.’

'well I miss you and your dick.'

Tomura nearly drops his phone as he reads your message. The grin on his face grows wider into a smirk and he can't help the flush that's creeping across his cheeks. Out of all the responses he was expecting... that wasn't one of them

‘You miss my dick huh? What happened to you being so innocent I gotta remind you to watch your language?’

'Oh please you don't say that when you stuff it down my throat'

Tomura's dick twitches slightly at your last message, immediately imagining you on your knees for him. He groans quietly to himself, quickly typing a response back as his free hand comes up to run through his messy hair.

‘Watch it babe. Keep talking like that and I might never make it back’

He gets a sudden idea, one that he's not sure you'd like but it's worth a try

‘Hold on, gimme a sec. I have and idea’

‘Oh?’

Tomura quickly opens the camera app on his phone, setting it to the front camera

‘I'm gonna send you something but I want you to promise that you won't freak out.’

‘I swear if it's another one of those videos where you torture someone I'm losing it.’

Tomura rolls his eyes, not surprised that you'd think that. He can't help but laugh a little at how wrong you can be sometimes.

Although, in all fairness, he was unpredictable and the videos of him 'messing with' unsuspecting heroes probably didn't help

‘No, I'm not sending you a murder video. I'm not stupid.’

"Good.'

He scoffs, typing his next text

‘You gotta have more faith in me babe’

He holds up his phone so his face is visible, and with his free hand, he reaches under the hem of his shirt, his palm coming to rest just above the waistband of his sweatpants. He smirks into the camera, his eyes locking on the phone as he clicks send. He's anxious to see how you respond to the picture, since the only thing visible in the picture are his face, bare stomach, and his sweatpants that are being tugged down slightly

'Fuck.’

‘That was hot.'

Tomura reads your response and he can't help but smirk, feeling a wave of pride at how you reacted to the picture. He was so damn right to send it and get you worked up. He texts you back within the minute, the smirk still plastered on his face

‘Ya like it?’

As you viewed his picture repeatedly you quickly send him a picture of you in his favorite langire as you set the camera showing off your curved body as you stroke a sexy pose on his bed.

Tomura's eyes widen at the picture that suddenly pops up on his phone. You were in his favorite underwear that he bought for you. You were laying on his side of the bed in a seductive pose and it looks like you've already spread your legs a bit...

“Goddamn...”

He whispers, feeling his sweatpants get tighter as he stares at the picture

He quickly types another message, his breaths a little shorter as he stares at the picture you sent as he takes it in slowly

‘You're trying to kill me aren't you?’

‘You started it, Do you have any idea how much I need you.?'

Tomura feels his chest tighten a bit at your words, wanting nothing more than to be able to touch you himself. His hand that's above the waistband of his sweats dips a little lower, a frustrated huff leaving his lips

‘I'll be back soon. That's a promise’

He sighs and glances away from the phone and back up at the ceiling of the crappy motel. Part of him is tempted to send you another picture but he stops himself, thinking it'll be better if he waited until he got home to get his hands on you himself.

As he tried to dose off he got another notification. You had send him a video of you folding your tits together with one hand as you looked up at the camera with those stupid lustful eyes.

Tomura's dick twitched as he watched, his need growing with every second. He could feel his pre-cum already starting to dampen his boxers as he saw his girlfriend’s naked body. You’re beginning to explore your body, cupping your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples, which stood erect and begging for attention. Tomura imagined it was his mouth working on those nipples, sucking and teasing them with his tongue.

Tomura couldn't take it anymore. He needed release, and he needed it now. He stripped off his clothes, his hands already working on the button of his sweats. As he threw his clothes aside, his cock sprang free, hard and dripping. He grasped it tightly, pumping it slowly as he imagined your mouth wrapping around his length, your lips kissing and sucking the tip.

He closed his eyes, letting the video play in his mind, feeling the warmth of the room and the tight pull of desire in his balls. He imagined you were there, your mouth working its way down his body, tasting every inch of him, your hands teasing his balls, playing with them, squeezing gently as your tongue flicked and teased.

Tomura's breathing quickened as he stroked his dick, faster now, a steady rhythm as the head of his cock glistened with pre-cum. His imagination was on fire, he pictured your mouth taking him deep, your throat working as you took him to the back of their mouth, sucking hard, your eyes looking up at him, full of desire.

Fuck he needed you so badly. He was this close to waiting it out, to not touch himself while he was away from your aching body. But you had to send him the most sexy video.

His hand bucked up and down his needy cock as his thump bullied his pink top just how you would.

“F-fuck-..” his voice rasped lowly as he tried to hold in his moans.

“Need you so badly.. s-shit..” he groaned as you continued his movements his balls becoming sloppy bouncing up and down his movements and his tip dripping with pre-cum.

He tilted his head back from all the lent up frustration as he groaned softly.

“H-haa..” he muffled out as he felt himself come closer to his release. His hands gripped around his cock as he hurried his movements rapidly.

“S-shit shit shit y-y/n..” he groaned and grunted as he felt his cock twitch rapidly while he released. As he continued his movements rising his high his breath rasped and hitched.

His cum oozed out his twitching cock dropping down his hand to his sloppy balls. He quickly picked up his phone snapping a quick picture of the sight sending it straight to you.

‘You’re such a damn brat. You’ll get that when I get back, You want me to get you pregnant huh? You want me to come back home and knock you up. Is that what you want?`