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It must have something to do with his quirk, something to do with the importance of his hands- because when emotions ran high, Shigaraki had to do something with his hands.
He’d learned this years and years ago, and it still rang true with every passing day.
As a child, he’d picked up the nasty habit of scratching and picking at his skin until it bled. He wouldn’t even notice he was doing it until his mom or sister smacked his hands away from scarlet wounds.
Later in life, he picked up a less self-destructive habit of fiddling with things- little machines and contraptions, game controllers, buttons, zippers, hems, you name it. This new habit was equally as unconscious and compulsive, and no less destructive, but at least it didn’t make people fuss over him as much.
He tried to keep the fiddling out of sight- most people took the compulsion as a sign of anxiety, and while it occasionally was, more often than not, it was actually a sure tell of his barely repressed anger, desperately curbing the urge to destroy.
That urge rose up like bile in the back of his throat when the villains he’d gathered to group up and send out began to quarrel. Fully aware that he couldn’t just disintegrate the lot of them and still expect his plans to be carried out, Shigaraki could do nothing but tuck his hands in his lap and fiddle with the hem of his sleeves.
Some lower ranked lackeys buzzed around, trying to mediate and curb tempers before things got out of hand- meaning Shigaraki simply had to wait it out.
And wait. And fiddle. And wait.
The situation eventually leveled out, and Shigaraki bit back that raging fire in his chest with a grimace of discomfort before continuing to hand out orders.
Honestly, he didn’t think much of that meeting after it passed.
He would have never thought that it would lead to this.
“What the fuck is this,” Shigaraki demanded- not bothering to hide the way his lip curled while he gazed down at the object that had been thrust into his hand.
To his credit, Jin looked absolutely humiliated to be even standing there, much less to have presented his boss with the gift in the first place.
“It’s nothing.” He insisted- yet immediately followed up with, “It’s an onahole!”
Shigaraki had half a mind to disintegrate the little pink thing in his hand right then and there. With a vicious dig of fingernails just beneath his jaw, he glared at the man before him, demanding an explanation.
Jin must’ve seen the way his boss was winding up- tighter and tighter, ready to snap- and tripped all over himself trying to get the answer out fast enough.
“I know it’s really out of line, boss, but I saw the way you were squirming in your seat at the meeting- I saw you jerking off in public!- and I felt really bad for you-” Jin froze when the fire in Shigaraki’s eyes increased tenfold, and when he finally managed to unstick his tongue, he added, “not because I pity you or anything.”
Before Shigaraki could even think of an answer to such a brazen and incorrect accusation, Jin started babbling again.
“It’s just that- well- I’ve been there before. It’s hard to get a good fuck in with a nasty scar like this- and you’re not doing so hot in the face department either- so I know how desperate it makes someone, and that feeling fucking sucks, so I thought-” he gasped in the middle of his sentence, clearly having forgone breathing in favor of trying to convince Shigaraki not to kill him, “I thought I’d help a brother- I mean, boss, help a bossman out.”
Jin paused, waiting for the bossman’s final judgement.
Shigaraki simply stared at the man in front of him.
Jin stared back for approximately half a second before sprinting out of the building and slamming the door behind him.
Leaving Shigaraki with… an onahole.
Out of sheer curiosity- and nothing else- he peered down at the silicon in his hand for a closer look.
It was about the size of his palm, and relatively detailed and true to life. It only consisted of a hooded clitoris, the lower labia, and the outer vulva, which all tapered down into a smooth base that sat rather comfortably in his hand. There was a hole and a little sleeve (that he assumed was where he would stick his cock in), but all in all, it was a rather compact little contraption.
The words portable and travel sized came to mind.
However, it was… pink.
And not a lifelike pink, like pale skin might turn under a blush, but more like… a bubblegum pink.
Garish. Eye-catching.
Gross.
The door nearby swung open, admitting some nameless villain, and Shigaraki stuck the thing in his pocket before anyone could witness him possessing the thing.
And he promptly… forgot about it.
That is, until news came back of All For One’s condition in prison, news that seemed to grow steadily bleaker by the sentence- news that was making him antsy.
He nearly reached to scratch at his temple, but the lackey doling out the news tracked the movement of his hand- the hand that was already poised in its usual claw-shape, making his intentions clear as day- and Shigaraki dropped his arm back to his side with a grunt.
He hated when people looked at him with pity. He would not tear his skin open in front of this fucking nobody.
But the urge to move, to squeeze, to dig his fingernails in, to wiggle, to do anything was so strong that it nearly dragged his attention completely away from the drone of this lackey’s mandatory update.
Shigaraki shoved his hands in his pockets with a huff.
And froze.
“Sir?” The lackey chirped, confused, “Everything alright?”
“Continue.” Shigaraki grunted, letting his face fall back into its usual scowl.
Nothing to panic about. There’s not a single person here that can see through clothes. No one is going to notice the thing in your pocket. You can just dispose of it later.
He comforted himself with the thought of getting rid of the thing, but after the lackey finished the report and walked away, Shigaraki came to a realization.
This thing… wasn’t so bad.
Jin may have intended him to use it for a… different purpose, but the garish thing still served a rather useful purpose to him indeed.
It was smooth, not irritating to the touch, full of complex shapes to trace, folds to fiddle with, surfaces to rub his thumb over, patterns to map out- and on top of keeping his hands busy, it fit perfectly in his pocket.
Usually, all the fiddling, touching, tugging, and general messing with would wear the object of his fiddling down until strings came loose, hems came undone, and little metal bits broke off.
But this thing didn’t have any easily breakable bits, no string to pull or filaments to twist and bend.
After checking in a mirror, he determined the movements of his fingers to be pretty much indiscernible to any watching eyes. He doubted anybody would even notice the tendons of his wrist jumping while he fiddled with his new toy, tucked away in the recesses of his pockets.
Of course, he had to test the theory, just in case.
When Toga got it in her head to try and do his makeup, Shigaraki was left to dodge and deny her requests until she was hanging off of him and pleading like a kicked puppy. She insisted he was breaking her heart, but Shigaraki knew better than to give in to that face.
His hands never once rose to pick at his skin.
He found that his compulsive fiddling habit was all but completely satisfied by Jin’s present. And no one seemed to notice the movement of his hand in his pocket.
Lovely.
~~~
This seemingly perfect solution came just in time for Shigaraki to come across a major irritation.
You.
Well, it wasn’t your fault.
It was the guy that was practically batting his eyelashes at you, following you around all the time, and constantly slinging an arm around your shoulders like you belonged to him.
You didn’t belong to him, and you made to tell him as much, but this guy just laughed in that sleazy way villains did and pulled you in closer to his side.
You weren’t particularly high-up in the rankings of Shigaraki’s massive following, but you were very useful in very specific, delicate situations, and you’d garnered Shigaraki’s attention because of it.
Considering the way his stomach turned this way and that while that guy hung all over you, Shigaraki dared to say you’d garnered his favor as well.
He couldn’t help it. You were definitely his type, features wise, and you had a mouth on you.
You were considered unpredictable by some, since you got along with most people, yet a select few seemed to draw your ire for reasons not everyone could pin down. Though usually amicable and always ready to laugh, at the flip of a switch your words could bite, stab, and thoroughly destroy anyone you aimed them towards- and you certainly had your list.
However, for some reason, he’d never provoked that side of you to show its face.
Actually, quite the opposite. Your smile seemed to shine brighter when he was around- and damn if that didn’t please him even a little.
You joked with him, despite not being anywhere close to being included in his inner circle of most trusted comrades. No one had the balls to joke with him, much less tease him on the rare occasion that your bright smile pulled a little sharper around him.
Needless to say, you two got along quite well on the few occasions that your paths crossed.
Honestly, his network was so far-reaching at this point that he probably wouldn’t have noticed the guy hanging off of you at all.
It’s just that… you brought him to him.
“If I may have a moment of your time,”
The door to the room he was using to pour over blueprints and strategies swung open without a knock.
It didn’t matter much since your voice was always something Shigaraki welcomed, but the man at your side wasn’t. Actually, he was less at your side and more behind you, avoiding Shigaraki’s gaze completely.
“Baby, you’ve got balls, but leave the boss alone,” the man hissed under his breath- looking all the world like he wanted to flee with his tail between his legs.
“Shigaraki?” You called again, waiting for his reply.
Shigaraki folded his hands in his lap (for the moment), and nodded once.
For a moment, your whole face screwed up- like you’d bitten into something sour- but in the next, you straightened your back and looked him dead in the eye.
“I would like to formally request a restraining order.” You managed through clenched teeth. “Apparently, my word isn’t good enough to warrant leaving me alone.”
The man behind her put on an exaggerated pout. “C’mon, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Leave the boss man alone and we’ll go get some lunch or something.”
Shigaraki felt his eye twitch beneath the comforting press of Father over his face. He thought about dipping his hand into his pocket to fiddle, but refocused on the task at hand instead.
“You.” He grunted, nodding in the direction of the man hiding behind you.
Said man shuffled out into plain sight with something like fear beginning to alight in his eyes.
The sudden fear pleased Shigaraki, but it also pissed him off, considering the man had only begun to regret his decisions after coming face to face with a higher authority.
“Hey,” Shigaraki realized, dragging out the vowel as recognition settled over him, “Aren’t you the guy that was supposed to bring back intel on Eraserhead?”
The guy froze up, but Shigaraki didn’t give him time to root himself in place.
“C’mere,” Shigaraki waved his hand in a lazy sweep, gesturing the man towards him.
Resultantly, the man obeyed.
Shigaraki stood up from his seat and was immensely pleased to find that he stood quite a few inches above this man.
With a smile that no one could really see, Shigaraki intoned, “You fucked up.”
The man’s eyes barely had time to widen before he was a pile of dust on the floor.
You let out a surprised hmm, staring at what once was an immense pain. “Thanks.”
Shigaraki merely nodded and sat back down, turning back towards the mountain of work before him.
But you didn’t leave.
Wearily, he turned back around- definitely kicking the pile of dust behind him on accident. On accident. Definitely.
“Anything else?” He asked.
Your expression was oddly muddled, gaze still fixed on the scattered mountain of dust.
“Did you get rid of him because I asked? Or because he failed his mission?” You wondered- and for the first time ever, Shigaraki detected the barest hint of vitriol in your voice.
He waited in silence until you lifted your gaze from the floor to his face.
“I killed him because he fucked up.” Shigaraki answered easily. “I don’t like fuck ups.”
Something in your gaze shifted, and the barest hint of a smile pulled at your lips.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The door barely made a sound when it closed behind you.
~~~
His new fidget toy was very good at keeping his mind off of stressors.
Just mapping out the ridges and folds of the exterior was enough to keep him plenty occupied- but, in time, his curiosity got the better of him, and (while in the safety of his own room) he slipped a finger into the opening beneath the folds.
“Fuck!”
He hadn’t expected the sleeve inside to squeeze him- as if the thing itself had been startled as much as he had.
What a fucking gift to bestow upon someone.
But Shigaraki was no coward. Some mechanism to make this thing more lifelike- whether it be Quirk infused or simple mechanics- was going to scare him off like that.
(Though rather hesitantly,) Shigaraki slipped his finger back into that little hole.
“God fucking damn,” he murmured to himself, completely blown away.
The thing pulsed around him like it was alive. The sleeve rippled and contracted around the intrusion, the entrance fluttered around the base of his finger- and the texture…
He’d expected the inside of the toy to be smooth through and through, but he couldn’t be more wrong. It was ridged, bumped, smooth- all sorts of new textures to run his fingers over and familiarize himself with, all sorts of new sensations to distract himself with when his body itched to destroy.
And the way it squeezed around him in shuddering pulses- at first it had seemed averse to the intrusion, but the more he felt about inside, the more the sleeve relaxed around his knuckles, allowing him to move as he pleased.
He spent a little more time than he was willing to admit to stroking the inside of the toy and getting used to the way it fluttered around him.
What kind of thing is Jin really into for him to have something that’s lifelike to this degree?
But… Shigaraki had to admit, aside from the textures to distract himself with, it really was satisfying to probe about and pinpoint all the spots that made the sleeve of the toy contract and shudder around his fingers.
It was thoroughly consuming his frequent desire to scratch and tear, and quite entertaining as well, so Shigaraki cast aside the explicit implications of the toy and kept it on his person at all times.
Over the course of the next several days, he found himself absently toying with the thing in all sorts of ways- becoming somewhat addicted to the call and response of his movements and the toy’s reacting mechanisms.
He found that idly rubbing at the ring of its entrance would cause it to spasm and quiver, and that rubbing circles in a crooked come here motion while buried inside the thing would sync the squeezes of the silicon to whatever rhythm he set.
It occurred to him at one point that the thing he was fiddling with was meant to represent human female anatomy.
If he’d learned anything from his years online, he’d learned where and what the fucking clit was.
And as he had this realization, a question rose to the forefront of his mind.
Just how realistic is this thing?
Could the toy… orgasm?
After a few minutes sat in his room with the door locked, rubbing at the little nub at the apex of the toy and plunging two fingers into the sleeve of the toy in a rhythm he knew elicited the most fervent of shudders, Shigaraki found his answer.
Judging by the way the walls of the silicon toy clamped around his fingers and pulsed erratically in the aftermath, he tentatively concluded that this goddamn toy could indeed mimic an orgasm.
Huh.
~~~
Sue him if coaxing a faux vagina to orgasm stroked his ego a little bit.
So what if he had limited experience in the field? This thing- even if it was a mechanical toy- proved he could at least elicit some results.
Now that he felt he understood the full capabilities of the gift he’d been given, Shigaraki’s habit of fiddling devolved into a habit of fucking.
Specifically, finger fucking.
It pleased him to no end every time he coaxed the toy’s sleeve to draw tight and spasm around his fingers- and the more he fiddled with it, the easier it was to ramp it up all over again and pull orgasm after fake orgasm out of the thing, even while only using only one hand and still concealing it in his pocket.
Slipping one or two fingers inside was most comfortable (and most discreet) for him, but some days, behind locked doors, he would stretch the little hole wider and wider until it could take three or four of his fingers. With the toy stuffed full and shuddering around him, he’d use his free hand to rub at the bubblegum pink clit until the shuddering turned to spasming and the spasming turned to waves of (fake) pleasure.
And it sure did take his mind off of whatever ended up bothering him the most at the moment.
~~~
“If I may have a moment of your time,”
Shigaraki was glad to see that no weird men clung to your side when you stepped into the room he was occupying for that day.
He was glad to wave off the lackey pouring over a list of potential new recruits with him. The list seemed endless and yet too short, and too many of the possible recruits were actually useless to him. It was giving him a headache, and he’d just begun fiddling with the exterior of his toy in frustration.
With his hand still comfortably in his pocket, Shigaraki turned to face you.
“Are you alright?” He blurted, immediately concerned by the look on your face.
Your features were all twisted up in a myriad of emotions, so convoluted he couldn’t actually pick out what was what.
“Truthfully?” You replied, “I’m not sure.”
Shigaraki tilted his head towards a chair nearby, and you shuffled over to it without complaint.
“I didn’t know who else to come to,” you admit to him, nervously adjusting yourself in your seat.
“What’s up?”
That single question seemed to put a stopper in your throat.
“I…” you managed after a choked swallow, “Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered.”
That kinda pissed him off.
He stroked at the opening of the toy with his thumb in unforgiving swipes, and while the ring of (fake) muscles beneath the pads of his fingers fluttered in protest, you shrunk lower in your seat, obviously feeling his glare press upon you.
“What,” he droned, “Like I can’t handle it?”
Color rose to your cheeks, but you didn’t deny the statement.
“I actually don’t know if you can.” You mumbled, suddenly sheepish.
Now he was really pissed.
The last thing he wanted was his subordinates doubting his power to handle things. Especially not you.
“Tell me.” He demanded.
He tried to soothe the sharp edge out of his tone, but it wouldn’t dissipate. If anything, it sharpened even more when you moved to stand and retreat, fleeing the situation entirely.
Resisting the urge to reach out and sit you back down, he slipped two fingers into the toy, burying his fingers to the last knuckle, absently wiggling them around until they settled right within its silicone grip.
You collapsed back into your chair as if he really had grabbed you and sat you back down.
“Oh god,” you breathed- and Shigaraki couldn’t help but worry at the fear in your voice.
“What?” He all but yelped, put on edge from the strange way you were acting.
“It’s- it’s happening again,” you finally managed- and if he wasn’t mistaken, that was a blush rising to color the tops of your ears. “Something- something’s been wiggling around in my organs, and- and-”
At first, Shigaraki was certain you’d ingested a tapeworm or some other parasite somehow, but when he moved to pull his fingers out of the toy, he noticed something odd.
Almost in time with the retreat of his fingers, your whole body rocked forwards in your seat.
...No way. There’s no way.
But, sure enough, when he plunged his fingers back into the toy, a little eep! left your lips, and your blush intensified, splashing across your cheeks as well.
“What does it feel like?” Shigaraki asked slowly- still a little unwilling to believe what seemed to be unfolding in front of him.
“It changes,” you began, “Sometimes it’s wiggling, sometimes it’s pushing, sometimes it’s beating out a rhythm on my organs like a drum,”
Shigaraki let out a thoughtful hmm and lifted his thumb to rub against the pearl nestled in the folds of his pocket sized toy.
He was not expecting your mouth to go slack and drop into a little O, he was not expecting your eyelashes to flutter, and he was not expecting your fingers to curl into the material of your pants.
“Does it hurt?”
He already knew the answer to this one.
“N-no,” you all but panted, “It’s not… it’s not bad. It doesn’t hurt.”
Shigaraki lifted an eyebrow that she likely couldn’t see. “It’s not bad?” He repeated.
Your blush deepened, painting you a delectable shade of red.
“Does it feel… good?” Shigaraki pressed.
You wrinkled your nose- and for a terror filled second, he really thought you were about to say no.
“It feels- it feels really good, Shigaraki,” you finally burst out, as if you’d been holding it in all this time, “It feels so good I think I’m going to go crazy- you have to help me stop it, please,”
“How would I make something internal of yours stop?” Shigaraki wondered- as if he wasn’t leisurely pumping two fingers in and out of what apparently was a stand-in for your vagina.
“It’s- it’s gotta be somebody’s Quirk,” you insisted- and Shigaraki couldn’t help but eye the way your thighs squeezed together in your seat when he brushed against your g-spot. “You’ve gotta have access to the Quirk Database- even if this person’s- oh!- gone underground, surely you have- have connections, somehow,”
“Why do you want it to stop?” Shigaraki cut you off, barely paying attention to your rambling explanations. “It feels really good, right?”
You had the audacity to glare at him.
“Well, besides keeping me from doing my work,” you grumbled, pouting despite the way your channel was quivering around his fingers, “I’m really not keen on anyone touching me like this.”
“Oh?” Shigaraki hummed, unconcerned. “I thought your organs were getting pushed around?”
You went completely scarlet. “I- well-”
“Where are you feeling all of this?”
With another startled eep! as his fingers circled around your g-spot, you laid a hand on your stomach.
Then, after a moment, your hand slid a little further down, resting just beneath your navel.
“Ah,” Shigaraki intoned- and the sound alone made you bury your face in your hands, mortified. “So you feel like someone’s fingering you, and it feels really good.”
“That’s not the point!” You cried from between your fingers. “The point is that I don’t want anyone touching me like this! Not unless it’s-”
Your head jerked up, eyes wide as if you’d already been caught, and you stared at the man in front of you, unable to look away from the gleam of red beneath his mask.
“Unless it’s who?” Shigaraki inquired softly.
You must not have heard- and he didn’t blame you, considering the massive tremor that pulsed around his fingers as he spoke. He redoubled his efforts in his pocket, rubbing wide circles over your clit and plunging even deeper into the toy’s depths with every stroke.
“Unless it’s who?” He repeated, a little louder this time.
Your eyes were beginning to roll back in your head, the pleasure roiling within you clearly overtaking your thought processes, and Shigaraki watched in rapt attention as your hips began to jerk in the slightest of movements.
He thought you hadn’t heard him at all, but when you shook your head, he realized you were denying him once again.
“Tell me,” he demanded, trying not to sound too petulant, “Unless. It’s. Who?”
The toy in his pocket spasmed around his fingers once, twice, then clamped down entirely.
Your back arched as if someone had electrocuted you, your head lolled to the side, your eyes rolled back, and your mouth dropped open to release the sweetest moan he’d ever heard.
“Shigaraki!” You wailed, writhing in your seat as he kept up his pace, not letting up for a second against your clit.
“What?” The man in question spat- viciously stroking the toy’s walls in the hopes of curbing his anger before he did something stupid like kill you.
Your face scrunched up a little in frustration, and you tried once more.
“Unless it’s Shigaraki!”
The shock was enough to still his fingers completely, and you slumped bonelessly into your seat like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
“You want me to finger you?” He couldn’t help but clarify, making sure he heard right.
Strung out after a vicious orgasm, it was clear that you completely gave up on saving face.
“Desperately, yes,” you panted, trying to catch your breath, “And it’s cool if you don’t want to or something, it won’t affect my performance on the field. I just think you’re really cool? And from what I can see of your face, I’m really really attracted to you, so-”
Shigaraki lifted Father off of his face without another word.
You cracked an eye open at the sound of something being placed on the table, and as soon as you registered the sight in front of you, you sat up ramrod straight, eyes wide.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” was what you blindsided him with after a beat of stunned silence. “Please want to fuck me back.”
Shigaraki couldn’t help but let out a low laugh at the absurdity of it all.
“Is that a no?” You wondered quietly, peering up at him.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” He ends up saying. Then, realizing his response could barely be counted as enthusiastic, he tacked on, “at all.”
“Oh!” You relax a little, relieved. “Okay, cool,”
Before you can collect yourself any further, Shigaraki wiggled his fingers inside the toy again.
Fear flashed over your face. “It’s back! Oh god, it’s back- Shigaraki, I don’t know if I can take another one- this’ll be the sixth one today-”
“Let me see.”
He cut you off with a simple command, and your whole body froze up as soon as you registered it.
“Huh?” You replied dumbly, gaze locked on him while you squirmed in your seat.
“If I’m going to help you,” Shigaraki explained slowly, “I need to see what’s going on.”
Though you hesitated for a while (too long, in Shigaraki’s opinion), you did eventually lift your hips off the chair to shuffle your pants and underwear off onto the floor.
“Wh-what if someone comes in?” You panted as you hiked your legs up and propped your feet on the chair, slouching in your seat until your cunt was completely exposed to his greedy eyes.
“Don’t worry about it,” Shigaraki absently assured you, “I’ll just kill them.”
Somehow, that brought a smile to your face, and you relaxed a little in your seat and spread your legs a little wider.
You looked like a dream, a dream of the lewdest, filthiest kind. Your pussy was swollen from its fifth orgasm of the day, reddened and puffy and slick, shining with the juices steadily leaking from your twitching hole.
It really did look like you were stretched around his fingers where they pushed into the toy, and your clit visibly twitched in time with the strokes of his thumb.
“I couldn’t- ahh- I couldn’t see anything, when I looked,” you struggled to speak as he ground two fingers into your g-spot, relentlessly attacking your weak spots.
Shigaraki didn’t reply aloud- but he did lean forwards in his seat, furrowing his eyebrows as he scrutinized the feast on display for him.
You weren’t structured exactly like the toy, but that made sense, considering this was manufactured and you were merely human. Thankfully, you also weren’t the same color as the toy- much more natural reds and browns, much less garish bubblegum pink.
Curious, Shigaraki nudged a third finger into the toy in his pocket, and you all but wailed and tossed your head back to rest on the top of the chair.
He watched in awe as your pussy spread wider, clenching around seemingly nothing, quivering and pulsing and twitching while he speared you open from afar.
“Please help me, Shigaraki,” you pleaded- though you sounded more wanton than afraid, especially while your hips twitched in enticing little circles right in front of his face.
The soft, slick clicks of your cunt clenching around thin air while he steadily pumped three fingers in and out of the silicone sleeve in his pocket was about to drive him crazy, but he kept it up for the time being.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He promised- knowing full well that what he could do was the whole reason you came to him in the first place.
Your shoulders relaxed a little, satisfied with his answer, but a moment later, you tensed up again.
“I think I’m gonna cum again- Shigaraki- Shigaraki, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” you pleaded, legs quivering in place while he fucked into the soft recesses of your (stand-in) cunt.
He reached out with one arm and finally, finally, laid a hand on your thigh.
In his momentary awe over how fucking soft your skin was, his fingers stilled inside his fidget toy.
With a pained uuuhhnn, you slumped lower in your seat.
“It- it stopped moving,” you whispered- as if it would hear you. (Which… it could.)
Slowly, an idea formed in Shigaraki’s lust-addled mind.
“Maybe I can chase it out,” Shigaraki mused aloud.
He slipped out of his chair and onto his knees in front of you, and your eyes went wide.
“You- you-” you stammered, seemingly not processing the implications of his words.
In his pocket, he started up little circles on the toy’s clit.
In response, you let out a choked moan, and your clit, swollen and shining, twitched right in front of his eyes.
“What’s happening?” Shigaraki queried (as if he didn’t know).
“My- my clit,” a blush rose to your cheeks at the words, “It’s stroking my clit again.”
Shigaraki tried not to let his hand shake as he slid his palm from your thigh to the patch of hair just above your cunt.
Slowly, carefully, he pressed a thumb to your clit and mimicked the circles he’d have drawn on the toy in his pocket on your slicked skin.
You arched as if you’d been electrocuted- nearly scaring the life out of him.
“Oh god- don’t stop, please,” you panted- and your eyes nearly crossed when he started back up after a brief, terrified pause.
“It feels- it feels so different when it’s you,” you insisted, “And the other feeling is gone. It’s just you, now,”
“Good,” Shigaraki hummed, much too pleased with the results of his on the spot little plan.
When he drummed his fingers inside the toy, you whined and reached down to pat his shoulder, pleading for his attention.
And his attention you received.
“Inside me,” you told him between breathless gasps, “Inside me, please,”
Dutifully, he slipped three of his fingers into your canal, curling his fifth finger into his palm so he didn’t fuck up and disintegrate you.
Holy. Fuck.
This was way different than the clench of the toy in his pocket. You were slick with your release, your gummy walls rippling and squeezing around his fingers- and fucking hell, you were searing hot like he’d never felt before.
He pulled his fingers out of the toy in his pocket. Fuck this thing.
“Oh!” You cried out, eyes snapping open in surprise, “I think it- I think it left!”
“Wonderful,” Shigaraki agreed, idly rubbing against your g-spot- your actual g-spot- and feeling out the ribs of your channel with the pads of his fingers. “Should I let you take your leave, then?” He wondered, stilling inside of you and stilling against your clit.
You didn’t move an inch.
“No,” you replied slowly, “I think I’ll stay.”
Shigaraki slid his fingers out from your clenching cunt- ignoring your pitiful whine- and examined the slick coating his skin.
“I’m pretty sure you said you couldn’t handle a sixth orgasm today,” Shigaraki recalled.
He stuck a finger in his mouth and coated his tongue with your release.
mm. more.
He definitely didn’t miss the way your pupils blew wide when he stuck his tongue out to lap the remaining essence off of his knuckles and palm.
“I could handle it if it was you,” you inform him, staring directly at the way his tongue curled around his fingers. “I could handle anything if it was you.”
really now.
“Alright,” Shigaraki said easily, “Keep your hands on the chair.”
While he pushed the hem of your shirt up over your stomach and chest, taking your bra along with it and letting your breasts fall free, he was pleased to notice your fingers immediately diving to clench around the edge of your seat.
good.
One by one, Shigaraki fulfilled every longing he’d ever had for you. He tweaked and pulled at your nipples until they were pebbled and reddened, and soothed your cries of “gentle! gentle!” with a hot swipe of his tongue over your sensitive skin.
As soon as he began sucking avidly at one stiffened bud, rolling the other in his thumb and forefinger, he let his free hand trail down your stomach, over your hip, and settle over your clit to start up his favorite form of fiddling.
You were inconsolable, thrashing beneath him with every tug, pull, suck, and swipe against your most sensitive spots, white-knuckled on the chair beneath your obedient hands.
“Can I taste you?” Shigaraki asked as soon as he resurfaced from giving both of your breasts ample attention.
“Can you taste me,” you breathed out, bewildered, “Of course.”
With your permission granted, he dove between your legs, setting up shop against your abused cunt.
After holding himself back for so long, after witnessing your lewd expressions and desperate body firsthand, after hearing your cries, hearing you beg for him to touch you, to finish you- well, Shigaraki had only one thing on his mind.
He pushed his tongue between your folds and lapped a hot stripe right up to your clit, gave it a harsh suck and a scrape of his teeth, then zeroed in on that sopping, winking hole of yours.
You all but screamed when he sucked against it, helpless to do anything but buck your hips up against his face- even scooting the chair forwards a little bit in your fervor.
“Good,” he groaned, reaching under one of your thighs to sling it over your shoulder, then do the same to the other. “You’re doing great.”
He didn’t spare a glance up to your face before continuing, so he missed the way your mouth dropped open and your eyes rolled back into your head when he began firmly lashing the walls of your cunt with his tongue.
It was a little more difficult to pay attention to the spots that you liked with his tongue instead of his fingers, but he figured he had plenty of time to practice- and you clearly didn’t mind the inexperience, judging by the way your heels were digging into his back. The finger stroking your twitching clit probably helped a lot too- and he found that teasing the little nub was leagues more entertaining when it was soaked in your slick.
“Coming, Shigaraki, I’m coming,” you chanted, holding onto the chair for dear life while he slurped and sucked at you like a starved man.
If his tongue wasn’t buried in your pussy, he would’ve mumbled, “I know.”
Because, he did.
The spasming of your walls was all too familiar, regardless of how different you felt compared to the toy he’d once relentlessly fiddled with.
Just thinking about you overcome with pleasure like this in all sorts of scenarios, likely teased to the brink over and over again while he mindlessly touched and rubbed and prodded, forced to orgasm wherever and whenever, completely out of control, completely under his control-
Needless to say, he’d been straining against the front of his pants since he’d realized what exactly he’d gotten himself into.
He replaced the press of his tongue with two fingers- then quickly reconsidered and added a third, stretching you out completely around his fingers- and sealed his mouth over your clit.
The change in position served both to give his jaw a rest and to allow him to shove a hand past his waistband and finally finally get a fist around his aching dick.
Just like that, rubbing himself out on his knees between your legs, sucking hungrily at your clit and finger fucking the life out of you, the two of you came, one after the other.
It was a quiet affair, on Shigaraki’s part. He mostly grunted and groaned into your slick heat as he spilled into his pants, unconsciously squeezing his shaft to the pulses of your channel around his fingers.
But for you, it was quite the opposite. You whined and wailed, trembling and shuddering through your orgasm, bucking with every flick of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers.
Best of all, in his opinion, all your lips could seem to form were the syllables of his name- a broken mantra of “Shigaraki, Shigaraki, Shigaraki,” filling his ears like sweet music.
When he backed away from your overstimulated body, you starfished out on the chair, letting your limbs slide off of his shoulders and hang loosely over the edge of your seat, your head resting against the back of the chair.
That was just fine.
After your sixth orgasm of the day- and an earth-shaking one, at that- Shigaraki expected no less. It actually pleased him, how fully and totally overcome you were by his ministrations on your body.
It also allowed him to reach into his pocket unnoticed and curl five fingers around the ugly, pink silicone that had served him so well.
He wouldn’t be needing it anymore.