#quirkless au

[catkettle]

Is it okay if I fall in love with you?

[sugoi-and-spice]

perfect, just perfect...

Serial Killer!Dabi x Reader x Serial Killer!Shigaraki

Summary: In which Dabi and Tomura Shigaraki are women-targeting serial killers and do what serial killers do. That’s it. That’s the fic.

CW: Quirkless!AU, Serial Killers/Slashers!AU, Explicit Smut, Non-Con/Rape, Kidnapping, Physical Abuse, Rough Sex, Asphyxiation, Mysoginy, Dead Dove: Do Not FUCKING Eat

A/N: Hey,, remember when I was gonna do a Halloween AU series? Neither do I!! Anyway, here's my first entry in my own event - out of order!! Enjoyyyy. (or not, this one's pretty gnarly ngl lol)

Cross-Posted on AO3

“P-Please… Stop, please…”

A smack. A loud one. Sounded like it was right across the face, and Dabi wouldn’t doubt if it was. Shigaraki really liked to mess up the face.

“Oh come on, you can beg better than that.”

“N-No, I— I…”

“No no — I know you can. You just were begging— begging fucking amazing too. Come on. Do it, you worthless slut.”

Dabi rolled his eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette as he stood watch outside the reconstructed Toyota Hiace they made their base of operations. One they’d gutted the seats out of to make room for a full-size mattress and some metal grating dividing the front seats from the back. 

A killing machine.

They parked it outside the city, in an endless valley of nature only ever occupied by a few off the grid campers. Ones that wouldn’t be suspicious of a lone van and two men in the middle of nowhere. They were also ones who typically had very few connections back home.

Who nobody would miss if they saw too much.

“Oi— I’m talking to you, slut! Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Jesus, this must’ve been the thirtieth time that Shigaraki called her a slut this session. How uncreative could one demented incel be? He’d kind of expected more from the bastard…

Truth be told, he didn’t particularly like his partner in crime. They weren’t friends, they were barely even acquaintances. But they were kindred spirits. Two particularly violent young men who’d met on a particularly violent darknet forum about women.

And the inhumane positions they’d love to put them in.

Of course, just because they both lived for the end result, didn’t mean that they agreed on the journey there. 

Shigaraki was a raging misogynist and by-the-book incel. He despised women, wanted to take revenge on them for everything he felt they did wrong to him. He wanted to make them bleed because he wanted to make them hurt. Because he was full of anger and disgust and hate. 

Dabi was the opposite. He loved women. The unique beauty of every single one, the range of emotions they showed in their darkest, most desperate moments. Emotions he himself was never allowed to show. Ugh, the euphoria of it all. He loved women so much he wanted to see every part of them.

Including their insides.

“Come on you ugly fuck!” Shigaraki snapped from inside the van, “Scream! It’s all you’re fucking good for!”

…Truth be told, Dabi wasn’t sure why exactly he’d partnered up with Shigaraki of all people. He’d been looking for a co-pilot for this sick and twisted little endeavor of his for a while, and there had been many others in the forums who probably would’ve been better fits personality-wise, who seemed more agreeable. Guys who weren’t so picky about the girls they picked, who didn’t grumble and gripe when it came time to finally cleaning up their mess, who didn’t use the “standing watch” excuse when it came to carrying the bodies to the disposal spots. 

Who didn’t put their disgusting fucking feet on his dashboard…

That being said, while they both lived almost exclusively on the other’s last nerve, they also had a strange, almost psychic symbiosis. They balanced each other out. Dabi was emotional and passionate, often getting over-excited by the next prospective victim, moved so intensely by his passion upon seeing a new girl walking down the street or sitting at the bar that he wanted to grab them right there and then. Shigaraki on the other hand was meticulous and paranoid, holding him back until he was absolutely sure that they wouldn’t get caught. 

He kept them careful at the beginning of the kill. 

Whereas Dabi, who truly believed that he held a lot of deep respect for the women they abducted, wanted to be careful with their bodies after the fact. Shigaraki grew bored easily and completely. He often wanted to just dump the bodies down a valley or in a back alley and move onto the next one. A broken toy wasn’t worth another second in his mind. But Dabi wanted better for the girls. He wanted them to have a proper burial. Deep, deep in the ground where nobody else could ever find them. 

He kept them careful at the end of the kill.

Dabi exhaled a long stream of smoke as he considered where their latest little sylph would be buried. They had passed a grove of what looked like magnificent spider lilies on the way out of town.

Maybe he was thinking too much into all this, he kind of had to whenever it was Shigaraki’s turn. The brutish way in which he handled and defiled these girls, it always made Dabi contemplate just what redeeming factor he had ever seen in the guy. 

And then he’d hear them, the screams Shigaraki managed to rip out of their victims. Screams that only came from a level of brutality Dabi would never be able to inflict himself. They were so unique, so beautiful, so perfect . And they were sounds that he’d never be able to hear if it weren’t for Shigaraki.

Truthfully, that alone was worth the endless collection of crushed Monster cans that littered the floor of his van.

It had gotten pretty quiet in there now. The screams, the pleading, even the choked little sobs of self-pity, all muted to nothing. There was only the creaking of tired mattress springs, Shigaraki’s heavy breathing and grunting, and the occasional sound of a slap followed by irritated mumbling. Yeah, she was losing all will to fight. Which meant it was just about time for—

“Oi,” Shigaraki snapped as if on cue, throwing the van door open, “She’s no fun anymore. You take her.”

Dabi took a long last drag of his cigarette, watching as Shigaraki climbed out and readjusted himself in his pants. His partner-in-crime gave him a weirded, disgusted look at the way he took his time.

“What’re you fucking staring at me for? You want me to off her or something?”

 Dabi waved him off, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stepping it out, “Nah, nah. I’m on it.”

“Hop to it then,” Shigaraki barked, crossing his arms and leaning against the passenger door of the van, “We’ve been here long enough already.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Dabi retorted as he stepped into the van.

Shigaraki whipped around, “Get bent!”

“I’m trying to,” Dabi threw right back, slamming the van door closed behind him.

He quickly pulled back his cool once he was inside. It really was amazing how quickly and effectively Shigaraki pissed him off. But he knew he needed to simmer it. He didn’t want to let his own anger and hate slip out too much in front of his newest precious angel. He’d hate to scare her off.

Dabi turned back to her with a small, but reassuring smile, “Hello.” 

Of course, she didn’t respond, didn’t even bother to look at him. 

She laid in more or less the same position he’d left her to Shigaraki in. Arms and legs pulled wide, cuffed to the rods mounted on each side of the van. Her once smooth and spotless skin was now swollen and purple, black and yellow in some places even, where Shigaraki had managed to break a rib and an ankle. Dry blood caked her nose and the corner of her mouth while fresh blood seeped onto the mattress out of recent scratches and cuts Shigaraki had inflicted in a last ditch effort to make her wail again.

None of that bothered him though, quite the opposite actually. He loved a roughed up woman, one at her most natural and vulnerable. It was the beauty that got him into this in the first place. No, what Dabi turned his nose up at was Shigaraki’s loads spilling out of her abused pussy, all onto her raw, reddened thighs and the crumpled tear-stained sheets. 

Ugh, see this is why he’d said no when Shigaraki asked if they should get an apartment together. The motherfucker never cleaned up after himself.

“P-Please…”

Dabi turned his attention back to her face, to her eyes, dull and lifeless, staring right through the back wall of the van.

“Just kill me already…”

Oh, this sweet thing, he thought, tilting his head at her sympathetically.

He climbed onto the mattress next to her then, resting a hand gently on her hip, careful not to put any pressure on the bruises littered there. She didn’t even flinch when he did it. She was that far gone.

“Kill you?” he asked, curiosity far from feigned.

“Aren’t you those serial killers that have been on the news lately? The ones that—” she couldn’t even finish. The fate that she knew of being too much to leave her throat.

“Huh. Are we now?” he said, mostly to himself as he had a real epiphany from those words. So they were serial killers, were they? 

Yeah, he could work with that…

She buried her head into the mattress, trying to muffle the dry sobs from ducts that had long gone barren.

“Please, if you’re gonna do it then just do it already! I can’t go on anymore! I can’t take it…”

He ran the back of his hand slowly, whisperingly down her cheek, “Talk to me beautiful. Tell me how I can make this better.”

This finally got something out of her. A snort of sick, stupid amusement, weak and wheezy.

“God, what fucking game are you two playing? Some sick good killer, bad killer shtick?”

Dabi smiled. She sure was spunky. Even now. What a lovely quality.

“No,” he breathed, dusting feather light kisses down her neck, her chest, that sweet, soft tummy… “No games.”

He buried his nose into the crux her thigh, reveling in the heat and tremble of her raw, abused thighs.

“W-What are you doing?!” she gasped, a whole new flavor of fear coating her voice.

“Just relax,” he purred, kissing a path all the way to her center, “I’m not gonna hurt you…”

She cried out as he licked up the length of her cunt, flicking the stud in his tongue against her clit playfully when he got there. She tried to move her hips away from him, still completely baffled and terrified by not knowing what he was going to do to her, but thanks to her restraints, the struggle only ended up pushing her hips closer to Dabi’s lips in a grind motion. A wanting motion. 

It spurred him on to pleasure her further as the delusion of her reciprocation had him falling utterly in love.

Shigarai’s spunk was still slipping out of her, heavy and salty on his tongue as he buried it deeper inside her, but that didn’t matter. Her own sweetness overpowered it, those resistant sobs overpowering all of his senses, sending him into a delirium of pleasure.

Fuck, how much he wanted to throw her legs up over his shoulders, coil his arms tight around her and devour her, but he resisted. He knew how raw and wounded she was, and all he wanted from her now was a fraction of the bliss that she was giving him.

“P-Please! I don’t— nngh! ”

Her sounds were brand new now — constant choked sobs of despair and self-hatred over the way her body reacted against her will. She was so raw and oversensitive from Shigaraki’s brutal treatment, Dabi’s own gentle, devoted ministrations had her ankles straining up painfully against her restraints as she came in mere minutes.

Dabi pulled away, a crooked, love-drunk smile on his face as he watched her trembling chest rise and fall, listened to the sweet serenade of her wheezing breaths.

He hummed happily as he pulled himself back up to her level. He cupped his hand gently along her cheek.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

She snapped back to him, anger tearing violently through her “afterglow”.

“ Fuck you .” she quite literally spat, a newfound fire within her that set his own body ablaze.

Dabi brought a thumb to his cheek, stroking the spit she’d hurled at him to the corner of his own mouth. His tongue reached to meet it, and he shuddered as both of her tastes mingled on his palate.

Fuck, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He quickly back onto his haunches, trying to not let his desperation to be inside her rush or roughen his movements. He still wanted her to enjoy this, but it was taking every bit of self-control he could muster not to blow his load over the sound of her voice alone.

“W-Wait!” she yelped out, as she felt him line himself up at her entrance, “You said you wouldn’t hurt me!”

“I won’t sweetheart,” he breathed, easing his cockhead in slowly, “I promise this won’t hurt.”

“But it does! You doing this now— you’re hurting me!”

He groaned as her heat completely engulfed him. Between the mix of her own arousal and Shigaraki’s, and the desperate pulsing of her insides, post-orgasm, he barely even had to push his hips. 

“There’s no need to lie now, your body’s completely giving you away,” he grinned, dropping his forehead to rest against hers, “Your pussy is sucking me right in.”

She choked out a sob as he rocked out of her just barely, then buried himself again, somehow deeper than before.

“ Fuck —” he groaned, “I couldn’t pull out if I tried. Your body just wants me that bad. Doesn’t it baby?”

She tried to stifle a moan as his soft yet sturdy thrusts hit that perfect angle inside of her. She managed to keep the pleasure of the sound locked in the base of her throat, allowing out only a stilted and very unladylike grunt in its place.

The horrid little sound didn’t put Dabi off in the slightest though. If anything, it endeared him. He smiled, almost giddily, as he watched that strain and struggle coarse through her. She really was perfect no matter what she did, wasn’t she?

They all were, after all.

“How does it feel, sweetheart?” he urged her again between thrusts, “Do you like it like this? Does it feel good?”

“N-No, it doesn’t…” she whimpered out hoarsely, that momentary fire from before quickly extinguishing as she felt her dignity once again slipping away “Just stop…”

Dabi’s brows pinched disappointedly, hips slowing to a near-stop. 

“You don’t like it like this? Soft and sweet?”

She looked back up at him, confusion creasing her own cute little face.

His hand on her hip started to tighten, nails digging deliberately into the meat of her hip, “Maybe then you liked Shigaraki’s way better…”

Her eyes widened.

“Well I can certainly do that too,” he breathed, hip suddenly snapping painfully into her.

“N-No!” she yelped, “No, please I—!” she squeezed her eyes closed tight, trying to hold back her tears, as a particularly rough thrust jostled her broken rib painfully, “I want it soft! It felt so good what you were doing before! Please! ”

“Are you sure?” Dabi tilted his head, pounding hips having yet to slow, “Don’t just say that because you think it’s what I want. This is supposed to be good for the both of us.”

“I-I’m not! Really, I mean it! I want it soft, please!” she cried out, “Please! Fuck me soft, g-gentle! Just—!”

His hips finally eased to a soft roll.

“...yeah?”

She opened her eyes then, and instantly her blood ran cold. His voice was soft and romantic, he’d gotten that part of his act down to a science, but clearly he hadn’t quite figured out how to keep that sadistic fervor from his face. 

His eyes were wide, pupils blown. He was clearly trying to keep his smile even and comforting, but he couldn’t fight the way those corners twitched higher and higher, teeth grinding and showing through harder and clearer. 

Just a horrible face. 

This man was clearly no more a voice of reason than his more blatantly violent partner outside. He too was clearly deranged, a powder keg. Completely unpredictable.

And that made him a thousand times scarier.

Dabi leaned in closer to her, fighting to keep the manic tremble from his voice, “You want me to make love to you?” 

She gulped hard, desperate to keep the absolute terror from her voice, “Y-Yes. Please… M-Make love to me…”

He stared down at her for a long moment, utterly reveling in those words long enough for her to start panicking that maybe she’d said the wrong thing. 

But thankfully — god, she couldn’t believe she was thinking that — they were exactly the words he wanted to hear. He dropped his head down into her chest, groaning unabashedly as he began to hump into her again, slower for sure, but also deeper. With his entire body and being.

“Fuck, yeah… Yeah baby. Anything you want. I’ll do anything you fucking want…”

She choked out a joyless laugh at that. Anything she wanted, huh? What a fucking joke.

“You’re so good, fuck— perfect . And you too— it’s good for you? Come on tell me baby. I wanna hear how good I make you feel—”

“Uh-huh, it’s good…” she said flatly as she slipped into dissociation.

She stared up at the same tear in the headliner she’d tried to focus on by the end of Shigaraki’s torture, thinking about how oddly shaped it was. Those kinds of tears were usually outright holes, maybe with a flap of fabric hanging off of it. Or maybe it’d be just a little tear, a small line practically unnoticeable in the dim light of this van. But this one was different. Long and unnatural, it almost looked like a big Frankenstein surgical stitch. Or like the dermal piercings running up her captor’s cheeks—

Fuck. Her eyes fell back on her captors flushed, blissed out face. The electric blue of his eyes, the babbling growls spilling from his lips. She was having a much harder time tuning the pleasure out with this man than she’d had tuning out the pain with the previous one, and she didn’t know why.

Maybe it was because he was kind of her type. That’s exactly what she’d thought when he leaned out of the car window to ask her for directions after all. Watching him move over her like this, leaning down to catch her lips passionately with his own more frequently as time went on she couldn’t help but picture an alternate universe. 

One where he really had been asking for directions to the beach. Where he’d been alone in his car rather than having a freak friend in the back, lying in wait. And where she’d been standing on the well-trafficked main street just a couple blocks down instead of in front of the empty alleyway she’d been smoking a blunt in when he’d stopped. 

A universe where they’d flirted and hit it off and exchanged phone numbers and eventually he’d taken her on a date rather than just taken her. Where these sweet nothings and pleasurable rolls of his hips were accompanied with champagne and room service rather than rope and broken bones.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pictured it all, what a wonderful life this could’ve been.

“Shhh, shh, shhh,” he cooed, “It’s okay. You’re so perfect, it’s okay…”

But that only caused her to sob harder, face reddening voice straining as she wailed uncontrollably. She didn’t even notice Dabi’s hand slipping up along her body and up to the base of her neck.

His thumb settled snug into that soft, sensitive dip of her throat.

God, she was crying so hard now, she couldn’t breathe.

And then he started to squeeze.

Wait, no, really. She couldn’t fucking breathe —!

She gasped out suddenly, arms instinctually shooting forward to try and force his hand off, but she was once again denied by her restraints. She quickly shifted gears, thrashing her body up and down wildly. And for a moment, she did loosen his grip.

But then he brought his second hand to her throat, pushing her deeper into the mattress.

“Perfect,” he growled through the steady snapping of his hips, “So fucking perfect…”

Her throat bobbed and begged as he constricted his hands tighter, getting lost in the song of her voice getting steadily higher, weaker, until she couldn’t form a word at all, could only gurgle and croak desperately. 

“Oh yeah, just like that. Be good for me baby,” he groaned, “Be good…”

He couldn’t say that this was the best part of these excursions, he savored every moment of it after all. 

…But there was something particularly special about these last few moments. 

It was so rare that anybody actually got to witness them, let alone experience them with their own hands — this perfect feeling of her body both tightening and going pliant around him, stiff and spasming, not to mention the view of it all that sent him barrelling frantically towards his release.

Fuck, she was so pretty! The way her drool spilled out her mouth, all gurgled and frothy. That lovely shade of blue she was starting to turn. The rabid fear that filled those eyes before they started to roll back — fuck even the pink undersides of her eyes were cute. He wondered what the backs of them, the optic nerves, looked like. He was sure they’d be adorable. 

He couldn’t wait to see.

[sunjuice1]

deku if he never got ofa ahhh

[revolvingsaturn]

Summary: you meet Shigaraki at a party. You have sex. (He has a breeding kink) (So do you)

(quirkless au, skip to the *+:｡ for just the smut with no plot involved)

🫧🌱

You slightly cringe as the alcohol hits your throat; the shots, of course, were Mina’s idea, probably one you’d regret the next morning shuddering the remnants of last nights party into the bowl of a toilet as somebody held your hair back. But, then again, virtually everybody was drinking, so you didn’t have that much of a problem with assisting Mina in downing a row of tiny glasses of alcohol.

After, giggling sat on the kitchen island with Mina at Kaminari’s failed attempts to fake sobriety, she nudges your bare knee with hers; the swirled marble of Kirishima’s kitchen island cooling the backs of your thighs through the too-short dress you’d been coerced into wearing by your friends.

“He’s cute.” She says teasingly, her eyes boring into yours with barely contained excitement.

“Who?” You say, tearing your eyes away from the far corner of the room, badly failing at feigning naivety.

“You know who!” Mina giggles. She nods her head in the direction of the same corner you’d just been gazing not-so-subtly at towards the boy you’ve been eyeing for the last 15 minutes. Probably more.

He wasn’t your usual type, if you had to define your type you weren’t sure what you’d write on the checklist but it would probably include something along the lines of ‘being socially adept’. He certainly wasn’t- his thin frame quietly leaning on a wall, hands in his jean pockets as he silently observed the party; his powder blue hair hung in front of his eyes as a tongue darted out to nervously wet his lips.

“Well, I say you go for it.” Mina says as she pulls you off the counter by your upper arm, the noise of her lace up boots clacking on the tiles audible even over the sound of whatever hideous song Kaminari, now unabashedly drunk and being held up by an annoyed Bakugo, had picked.

“What?! No, no way-“ you protest, but she’s already yanked you halfway across the room and you can’t really turn back around, not now his eyes are scanning you with a slight shimmer of interest tinting his irises. Other than this and a slightly quirked eyebrow, his face gave nothing away.

You look around in panic for Mina but she’s already gone, back to the kitchen island or to laugh at Kaminari somewhere in the house.

“She seems nice.” The stranger says, his voice slightly raspy like it’s out of practice.

“Oh, yeah, she is, really lovely-“

“Why are you over here?” He cuts you off. “If we’re gonna talk, at least bother giving me your name.”

You comply- after all, he was hot and you didn’t want to chicken out; Mina would never let you live it down, you think absentmindedly as you take in his features a little more now you’re closer. He’s quite pretty, you think; nice eyes, hair that looks freshly washed and a rather pale complexion, although that doesn’t bother you.

You wonder what he looks like flushed.

“Sorry- what did you say your name was, it’s um, it’s noisy in here.” You babble awkwardly.

“Tomura Shigaraki.” He repeats back slowly. “It’s loud. It’s quieter in the hallway.” He says, and you swear your heart does at least 3 backflips when he softly grips your wrist to drag you into the corridor of the house. Mina winks at you on the way out and you shoot her a glare as you’re, thankfully, removed from her line of sight.

It is quieter in the hallway, you think- but that might not be a good thing, because now you’re suddenly aware of just how close he is to you and just how soft his breath feels when it lightly brushes your face as he speaks. You swallow dryly as your gaze lands on his lips as he speaks, but you don’t have the slightest inkling of what he’s actually telling you and whatever it was goes out the proverbial window the very second he inches a centimetre closer to you, and you have to refrain from kissing him.

You grab his hand and he looks surprised at the sudden contact but not opposed when you lead him into the first spare bedroom you find and perch on the edge of the bed next to him. The mattress slightly dips under your combined weight as the sheets crinkle quietly below. You nervously meet his gaze with yours and almost jump in shock when you realise he looks even more nervous- he’s constantly looking around, pupils darting and hand awkwardly itching the back of his head.

“You can look at me, Tomura.” You say lightheartedly.

He does, and you swear his pupils dilate at the very moment your breath hitches when he mutters the words “you’re pretty.” Into the undisturbed air of the room.

*+:｡ (smut below) *+:｡

You whisper a quiet thanks as you lean in just a little closer and slowly, carefully, place an experimental kiss to his lips. The effect is almost instantaneous; he immediately reciprocates and grips you back, hands messily clutching at your waist, hips, hair- anything he can reach is grabbed at by his warm hands, including your collarbone when he leans down to bite it and your bra when his fingers ever so lightly skirt the clasp through your dress.

You pull apart for breath, an air of blatant arousal surrounding you both when you unceremoniously pull back from Tomura’s grasp and go to rip your dress off- it was too short anyway, good riddance- at the same time he slowly peels his shirt away from his chest to reveal his abdomen. His eyes widen at the sight of you, half naked in the dim light of the room, a smile creeping onto your features when you offer your back to him to allow access to undo your bra.

His touch is nimble, dexterous fingers working quickly to not only undo the clasp but to skirt around your ribcage and grab at your tits and you shudder when his right hand skims across your chest. His left hand, however, has other plans- as he carefully manoeuvres you onto your back, now just in your panties, his right hand and mouth continues their coordinated assault on your breasts as his left hand trails down your body to reach the waistband of your underwear.

“Is this okay?” He breathes up at you in the dark, eyes half lidded as he watches his hand grope at your chest.

“Yeah, yeah that’s oka-ay!” You get cut off halfway through by an unexpected moan as his fingers work their way through your already wet folds to circle your clit in tight little circles. He’s good, almost dizzyingly so-

His mouth has been trailing further south for a while, but you’ve been too preoccupied by his fingers lightly crooking inside of you to be prepared for when his lips make contact with your pussy as he unceremoniously rips your underwear off and starts to suckle at you. You reach out in panic as he keeps going, his mouth and fingers working you up to the precipice of an orgasm and you can’t do anything but tug at his pale blue hair. He moans into your pussy and you cum, back arching off the bed as you choke out a string of praise through your moans.

He’s immediately hovering over you, and you taste yourself on his tongue but you don’t have it in you to care as his left hand makes its way to your clit again to draw tight shapes. He leans back briefly to remove his jeans and boxers until you’re both naked, his cock bobbing as he pants into your mouth for consent. You give it.

And you’re so glad you do, because the minute he’s pushing into you the squeak you let out forces a moan from him as he desperately humps into your slick. He leans down to shakily press kisses over marks he left before, the constellations of rapidly darkening skin swirling around in the darkness. You know neither of you are going to last long.

“Please, please-“ he’s whining into your ear as he begs to cum inside your already soaked pussy. You contract around him at the thought as your nails scrabble at his pale back.

“You’re so p-pretty, let me put a baby in you-“ he babbles out unthinkingly in the darkness, his speech as sloppy as his thrusts.

And, despite not knowing anything about him past his name and that he fucks absurdly well, you think the thought of being bred pushes you over the edge as you moan unabashedly into his neck. He’s cumming not long after, pulling out shakily to gaze at the mixture seeping out of you. He grabs your hips, gentler this time, and thumbs circles over the marks he’s left there. You squirm at the overstimulation when he leans down to softly lick at your folds, his eyes closing and lashes fluttering as he tastes not only you but himself this time on his tongue.

He lets up when you push at his head, lying down next to your equally sweaty, fucked-out form; there’s mascara running in streams down your cheeks and spit covering your tits, not to mention the obvious mess of cum Tomura left in between your thighs. He grins at you softly in the darkness; you grin back and giggle. You laugh with him, the stranger you’ve just fucked and let come inside you in the spare bedroom of Kirishima’s house, covered in sweat and hickies until your ribs are sorer than your poor suckled collarbone.

“I’m really gonna have to thank Mina.” You squeeze out in between laughs.

“Who?” He responds back in genuine confusion.

You devolve into giggles again.

🫧🌱

-for phoebe💫

[xskyll]

I’m baaaack. Sorry it’s been so long. I finished writing my support engineer Izuku x pro hero Shouto fic and have started posting it, so now I’m back to working on this. Please don’t judge the bottom panel too hard; drawing Izuku at that angle absolutely kiiiilled me.

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[pixiedvst333]

im begging for you to make a drummer bakugou based on that "i hate attention" video on tiktok of the girl on his lap

➻ omg i don't know which tiktok u mean i'll be so real, i think i might've found the right one but if i'm wrong i'll rework it ^-^ just lmk!

notes: nsfw themes, 16+, quirkless!au, band!au

context: katsuki bakugo is a drummer in a band, with jirou (singer), kirishima (basist) and kaminari (lead guitarist). y/n is jirou's best friend. masterlist

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

katsuki bakugo was always full of surprises. from the great effort he took into spiking his hair, to the deep black eyeliner he smudged on his waterline, it seemed like every week, you found out something new about him. originally, he was simply a hot-headed classmate who sat two rows in front of you, only interested in body-building and heavy music, while you were seemingly distant and dry.

so you were shocked when you found out your best friend, kyoka jirou, was in a band with him. sure, you should've expected it. while his hair remained naturally blonde, he often liked to semi-dye the tips black, while painting his nails and keeping them short. it also shouldn't have surprised you that he was the drummer. from the flexing of his biceps to the therapeutic anger-relief of hitting the drum skins, it was undoubtedly a talent suited for him. and you couldn't deny he looked hot playing them.

the band contained him, jirou, kaminari & kirishima, yet your eyes would only lay on the spikey blonde. he had such an intense stage presence, his crimson eyes hunting the audience like prey as he showed off his strength and aura. it was embarrassing to admit to jirou that not only were you going to her gigs for her, but also for bakugo.

"y/n," jirou muttered, straightening her hair before a gig. she was sat sprawled in front of a dirty mirror, cigarette hanging from her mouth as she looked towards you. you were lying on her bed, scrolling though social media while you waited for the group to start. you were vip, of course. "could you do something for me for the gig?"

"sure, anything for you," you winked, glancing towards her before back at your phone.

"we're performing a song that's kinda trending at the moment. we're wanting to, you know, get seen on instagram, as cringe as it is," she explained, standing up and rolling up her knee-high socks. "but the trend includes someone sitting on the drummer during the solo."

"right," you answered confidently, roughly knowing what trend she meant. "and what are you wanting me to do? find someone who'll do it?"

she went silent, a small, smug grin on her lips as she took a long, drawn out inhale. "no, i want you to do it."

***

and that's exactly how you ended up on stage. albeit in front of around 450 people, you were still on stage. with lights on you. and a man's LAP to stradle.

you'd only agreed after multiple pleas from jirou. apparently the majority of girls they auditioned just didn't get along with bakugo's rough nature and snotty attitude, and considering he felt awkward himself with these women, they'd had to narrow it down to people he knew. and that just happened to be you.

the music was blaring around you, a cover of type o negative being slammed on guitar and getting the crowd wild. it was becoming your time, and you began to dance towards the drummer, who was so entranced by his own performance that he barely saw you coming. heart in your throat but showing off a false confidence, you sultured over, before enthusiastically throwing yourself on top of bakugo. you heard him grunt under his breath, attempting to get comfortable while thrashing the drumset. by this point, he was topless. the heat of the atmosphere and humidity had all four artists hot and bothered. it didn't bother you, however, as you were in awe by his beauty up close.

"sorry," you muttered under your breath, going beat red in the face as you performed a lap dance on him, your hands clasped on his shoulders as you turned your face to the crowd, a sly look on your face as you watched audience members fien jealousy.

"don't be," he answered, his eyes shooting daggers through yours as he stared at you. his hands continued to thrash, fingers brushing against your skin whenever he could. "do i look like i'm complaining, freak?"

you bit your lip as you realised he was into it, a slight hue slithering over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. it bought you an unimaginable confidence and, being recorded by none other than ashido, you put on a show. bouncing, pretending to kiss him, playing with his hair... anything sultry, and you were doing it. he kept his eyes on you, and you noticed his eyes slip down your top occasionally as he checked you out. sure, maybe you were all he could see, but he was being blatant. and you were sure you could feel movement beneath you...

the cue for you to get off the stage was coming up, however; the song was coming to an end, so they could finish up the set and go for drinks. you'd been told by jirou to do something drastic, something memorable as you left, but considering you and bakugo had performed a softcore lapdance, you weren't sure where to go from there. you looked at him desperately, unsure what to do, and he 'tchd'.

"just follow my lead," he muttered, glaring at jirou before leaning forwards. you followed, your back now against the bass drum and the high toms. your eyes widened as he threw the sticks behind him, roughly took your chin in his hands, and kissed you.

your arms draped around his shoulders, melting into the kiss you'd only dreamed of. he smelled like deep caramel and musk, and his hands scaled up your shirt to feel your skin. he'd made out like kissing you was a chore, when he seemed to be enjoying every moment. you heard jirou scream in delight, saying something stupid to the crowd you didn't fully hear. but once you were let go by the blonde, he rolled his eyes and pulled you off the kit.

"now get the fuck out of my sight," he said loudly, keeping the shit-eating persona up for the audience as he gestured you off the stage. completely stunned from the whole experience, you nodded as you tried to stop your legs from turning to jelly.

"mhm!" you answered, completely unable to make eye-contact with the man. but, even so, you felt him grab your arm. turning, he pulled you to his ear, whispering so the audience couldn't hear. and his words made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"meet me in the back. twenty minutes."

an. i hope this is ok for u :)

[bugiseverywhere]

quirkless au katsuki bakugo, who’s fresh out of college and meets you for the first time, hanging out with his idiot friends who didn’t introduce the two of you sooner.

(This turned out way longer than expected. Oops)

August is already right around the corner. The streets are beginning to fill up as it seems everyone’s preparing for the school season. The sun beating down on everything, illuminating the streets he’s walking down.

“Mina just texted, said everyone’s there. Wanna stop here and get something to drink before we head to her place?” Katsuki nodded and followed kirishima who was already opening the door to some local coffee shop katsuki never really remembered the name of.

Him and kirishima have spent, what seems like, the whole summer together. Not that katsuki had a choice in it. Both agreeing to rent an apartment after graduating. Kiri protesting it was the cheaper route for them both, and that he needed the company. Katsuki didn’t mind it at the time, but the more his roommate and friends dragged him around the city, the more he wished he would’ve just moved back home with his old hag.

an hour ago:

“C’mon bro, you can’t keep trying to hide in the apartment all summer.”

“I already said I’m not in the fucking mood to babysit you guys. Go without me.” katsuki retorts as he throws himself on the couch. He tried to ignore the phone calls from kaminari, sero, and mina, but it was hard to ignore kirishima when he can just show up whenever he pleases.

“It’ll be fun man! And you won’t have to babysit us. It’s just a cookout at Mina’s, nothing bad, I swear!” kirishima slams the door shut behind him pointing at katsuki who was trying his hardest to avoid the conversation, “Seriously I’m not leaving until you agree to go. I already let you get out of the last time!”

“Whatever.”

end of flashback.

After he finished being bombarded by everyone (mostly Mina who was pissed he ignored her 7 missed phone calls and 20 unanswered text messages) katsuki had settled himself in the kitchen of Mina’s lake house.

Often throughout high school, the group would find themselves spending weekends/holidays out at this place. Mina’s parents used to live in the house during the summer seasons to get away from the city, but in the groups first year of college, it was given to Mina to do whatever she pleased with.

Unlike the hustle and bustle the city, katsuki didn’t mind the quiet atmosphere out here and always enjoyed when the group would get together and hang out. Even if it did drive him absolutely insane sometimes.

The sun was already setting by the time he and kirishima arrived. Everyone inside helping mina get the food ready.

Except for you.

Katsuki hadn’t seen you before. No one said anything about someone else being here. Were you with Sero? Maybe Kaminari, but last katsuki checked him and jirou were still together?

“Y/n. She’s a friend from one of my classes last year. I tried to tell you she would be here but you decided to ignore my phone calls.” Katsuki shifted his gaze from you to Mina who was staring at him with attitude.

“why’s she sittin out there by herself? She weird or something?”

“Nah. She just probably doesn’t want to listen to everyone. She’s kind of like you in way. Gets annoyed easily. Especially by these two morons.” Mina repsponded as she smacked Denki and Sero on the hands as they were trying to sneak pieces of food she was cutting up for dinner.

Katsuki hummed in response as he looked back in your direction. He wondered if he’s ever crossed paths with you before. He must’ve at somepoint right? Not that it really mattered.

As Mina finished prepping the food, katsuki left the kitchen and found himself in the living room lost to a conversation kiri, sero and denki were having. During this time he must’ve not noticed you move in the living room until sero chirped out, “hey she’s finally not pissed at us kaminari!”

The comment making you giggle softly as you made your way to sit next to the two. “You guys make my ears want to bleed. I just needed to not hear you two talk for a bit.” Your eyes moved from them and glanced in katsuki’s direction.

His heart skipped a beat when you smiled and opened your mouth to introduce yourself to him. what the fuck-

“You’re bakugo right? Mina’s talked about you a bit. It’s nice to meet you finally.” You were beautiful. Katsuki found himself lost for words, which wasn’t particularly normal for him. All he could get out was a,

“Uh- Yeah.” Just as he was about to try and say something else, Mina shouted that the food was ready. You, denki, and sero, made your ways to the kitchen, working through the food. Katsuki stayed in his seat on the couch watching you talk and laugh at the boys and mina.

You must’ve met them all before.

How come they never said anything about you sooner?

Why does he care this much, he just met you.

“Mina introduced us to her about a month ago. Y’know, the last time you decided to not hang out with us” kirishima stared at katsuki with a half assed smile on his face.

“Why is everyone being such a prick about that. I didn’t feel like coming out here. Besides no one told me Mina was gonna bring her.” Kirishima laughed at katsuki as he stood up from the couch, looking down at the blonde,

“I don’t know man, seems to me you’re just pissed you didn’t meet her sooner.” Katsuki rolled his eyes, kicking kirishima in the shin. His eyes shifted back to you and met your gaze which was already staring at him.

Little did katsuki know, you just finished fighting with Mina about how she didn’t tell you her hot friend from college was going to be here tonight.

God, you could just kill her, and so could katsuki.

-

-

-

I did not proofread this so I apologize in advance if it is horrible. I just needed to get it out of my head. 🙏

[dopeyz]

Sparks and Silence

Pairing: Student!Bakugou x Fem!Quirkless Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Slow Burn

About: a quirk-less girl gets into ua and intrigues THE katuski Bakugous interest

Warnings: none? Maybe angst, no smut

————————————————————————

Your first day at U.A. felt like stepping into a world where you didn’t belong. The prestigious hero academy was filled with the best of the best—students with powerful quirks, insane skills, and unshakable confidence. And then there was you, quirkless.

You had fought tooth and nail to get in, acing the written exams and proving in the interview that you were just as capable, even without a quirk. But that didn’t mean the stares, the whispers, and the occasional scoffs didn’t sting.

That’s how you first caught Bakugou Katsuki’s attention.

At first, he didn’t bother with you—why would he? You weren’t a threat, weren’t competition. But then, he started to notice things. How you never backed down from a challenge, how you studied like hell, how you kept up in training despite having no flashy power to rely on.

One day, after another grueling combat class, you sat on the sidelines, panting, bruised, but determined. Bakugou stomped over, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

“The hell’s your deal?” he asked bluntly.

You wiped sweat from your brow, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

He clicked his tongue. “You fight like you’ve got something to prove.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I do.”

That should’ve been the end of it, but it wasn’t. After that, Bakugou started paying more attention. He didn’t go easy on you in sparring, didn’t sugarcoat his words, but oddly enough, he didn’t mock you for being quirkless either. Instead, he challenged you, pushed you harder, called you an idiot whenever you overexerted yourself.

Somehow, that turned into late-night study sessions, where he’d grumble about you being slow but still help explain things. It turned into stolen moments in the gym, where he’d wordlessly spot you during strength training. It turned into him shoving extra food onto your plate at lunch, muttering about how “a weakling like you needs to eat more.”

It wasn’t traditional, wasn’t soft, but it was undeniably Bakugou.

One evening, as you packed your things after training, he lingered by the door. “Oi.”

You glanced up. “Yeah?”

His eyes flickered away, lips pressing into a thin line before he huffed. “You’re not weak.”

Your breath hitched.

“Not everyone agrees,” you said quietly.

“Tch.” He turned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Then they’re all fucking idiots.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest. Maybe you didn’t belong in a world of quirks. But here, in this moment, with Bakugou beside you?

You didn’t feel out of place at all.

————————————————————————

Word count: 498

[wh1spic]

[doumadono]

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

Officer!Bakugo is a seriously scary motherfucker - he's really tall and big, and he gives off an intimidating vibe. I mean, he gets annoyed over the tiniest stuff

Officer!Bakugo is a stereotypical “bad cop” type - tough, no-nonsense, and not afraid to bend the rules

If Bakugo slams his fist on the table during an interrogation, you can bet you'll spill all your secrets, whether you like it or not, thanks to those intense crimson eyes boring into your soul

Officer!Bakugo owns a big K9 dog named Blast. The massive belgian malinois is super intimidating - nobody dares to move when the dog is around, showing off its long fangs. The dog pays close attention to whatever Katsuki commands

Bakugo often goes undercover to bust drug rings. His intense look, paired with his scarred face and that maniac grin, makes him appear like someone who tasted cocaine or any other heavy drug for breakfast

When Bakugo raises his voice, it makes both kids and adults cry

Officer!Bakugo harbors a cache of dark secrets, ranging from covering up crimes to manipulating evidence. He becomes adept at concealing his corrupt actions behind a facade of a dedicated officer

Bakugo really likes wearing the uniform because it makes his ass, chest, and shoulders look awesome

Officer!Bakugo drives his cop car like crazy, but he's super skilled at it - when he's chasing someone, he always catches them

Can and will swiftly pin anyone down in just 1 second flat (he's used this move on his one-night stands numerous times)

One of the corrupt things officer!Bakugo does is take it easy on the cute girls (basically all the girls he finds attractive) when they come to his office to report a crime or seek help

He's definitely used handcuffs on a few girls in his career

Sex in his office is a must, but his police car is also on the list

Bakugo's preferred position is doggy style - he just loves the feeling of being in total control and able to thrust as hard and fast as he pleases while spanking the ass of his lover, like when he apprehended you for exceeding the speed limit, and due to your earnest pleas and appeals, he opted to fuck your little, sweet-scented cunt rather than revoke your driving license. You found yourself pinned down to the backseat of his car, your ass raised up as Bakugo fucked your cunt mercilessly from behind, spanking your ass every now and then. The vehicle was swaying with each forceful thrust as he assaulted your drenched pussy, growling like an animal. "Just like that, you little whore. Look at you, taking my cock so well. Dripping wet just f'me like a good slut you are."

Officer!Bakugo has a kink for public sex. There is something thrilling about the danger of being caught, the thought of someone stumbling upon you in the act only added to the excitement, especially when you're bent over, sucking his dick while he's smoking a blunt in his police car, guiding your head more towards his pelvis, and the only thing you can do is to choke on his fat cock as its tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly

Officer!Bakugo has a particular fondness for dominating his girls, both physically and mentally. He enjoys the thrill of manipulating them into submission, leaving them begging for more and being on his mercy

Officer!Bakugo quickly gets turned on when a girl pleads for mercy with doe eyes; also, he really likes skimpy skirts that hardly cover her ass

Officer!Bakugo enjoys night patrols the most because there's a better chance of catching criminals and tormenting them. Plus, Katsuki can smoothly hand out fines to loud tipsy ladies leaving the clubs, and he even doesn't hide that he's checking them out

Officer!Bakugo who has a preference for younger girls (Katsuki is in his mid-30s, but he won't hesitate to flirt with someone barely over twenty-year-old)

[izukus-shattered-elbow-bones]

When people think/write about adult quirkless deku AU where he never got ofo and never became a hero, that he'd be all rage filled and hate bakugo still.

But I feel there's a lot of missed opportunities where he's not rage-filled and hateful but just awkward and weirded out by the whole situation.

Like imagine you're Izuku, you are now a grown ass man, you are completely over Middle School and all of the events that transpired there, you don't really care about Katsuki.

But the problem is you see his face everywhere. Taking the bus to work? Bam! Childhood bully on a billboard. Trying to watch a YouTube video? Bam! Unskippable ad of your childhood bully trying to sell you cookware.

You go on a hero forum to nerd out and you see a couple posts talking about how "Hot hero Dynamite is", and you just have to remember that this is the same guy who, when you were five, you were at a sleepover together and he peed the bed and you had to help him hide the evidence and agree to never speak of it again.

The whole situation is just so unbelievably awkward. And gods forbid you ever try to talk to anyone about heroes irl.

You start talking about heroes but then they bring up Dynamite and you have to try to change the conversation to a different hero without them getting suspicious. You're doomed if you get into a conversation with someone you find out to be a super fan of his. Or worse, you call him "Kacchan" out of habit and then they look at you weird.

And you're not just going to go around telling people that you grew up with him. Cuz either they don't believe you or they just think you're weird and still salty about your childhood.

You really don't care about him anymore! You just wish he would stop popping up in your life.

[a-sound-sol]

¹⁾ “don’t tell me; you had so much fun with me last year, that you just couldn’t resist spending it with me again.”

from the prompt list :)

fuck about it // k. bakugou

quirkless au, MDNI, hints of nsfw, enemies -> fwb -> lovers

a/n: inspo: waterparks, chappell roan, and bad bunny !!! shout out to sydsuki/kidney <33

This summer was going to be different, that's what you told yourself.

Last year, you fell victim to toned abs and biceps, on the most infuriating man you had ever met. He angered you and frustrated you, he always had. You've known Katsuki Bakugou since middle school, and you've always despised him.

Until that night at the beach, you had done your best to avoid even being alone with him.

But the bonfire sparked something else in you, perhaps in him too.

All your friends had gathered by the shore to celebrate the end of college, finals finished and degrees in hand. You spent the night laughing with your friends, relieved the stress of school had finally ended.

As Denki and Mina slowly convinced everyone else to go swimming, you were left with Katsuki. His eyes flicked from the fire to meet yours.

"You look good tonight," he subtly bit his lower lip, eyes falling to your hips before meeting your gaze again.

"Okay? Where's the insult?" you bark back. You were adults, but that didn't mean he didn't still piss you off to no degree.

"No insult, just admiring the view." He smirked and moved around the fire, sitting next to you.

You tried to hold your composure, you really did. But you were starting to sweat, and your face was heating up.

"You know yn, you've always been a bit of a brat. Can't believe you won't look at me still. Not the same person I used to be." Katsuki mumbles, his mouth a bit too close to your ear. The hairs on your neck stood up.

"You'll always be the jerk from middle school to me, Katsuki." You bite back. He grips your chin gently, forcing you to look into his eyes. "'M not that guy. You've known that for a while."

Your eyes shoot open, almost getting lost in his. You mentally curse yourself, you can't fall for that shit again. Sure, you'd had a crush on Katsuki when you first met, but it's not like he ever felt the same. Plus, he's a jerk... right?

"Come on, let me prove it to you," he said before pressing his lips against your neck, brushing them softly against your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut as you lost yourself in the pleasure, in his touch.

When he looked into your eyes, you saw his darkening as you wrapped your arm around his neck. "Parents've got a beach house up the road..." he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Wanna come with me?"

You hate how quickly you nodded your head, and how fast he was able to get your clothes off. You hated how good it felt to be with him. You hated it so much, you hadn't spoken since last summer.

Until today.

You agreed to meet up with the crew. Schedules had been harder to align the past year, with everyone's careers taking off in different directions. You decide to show up late, hoping Katsuki had decided to leave early, since he's always on time.

Your face falls when you walk into Yaoyarozu's mansion, and the first face you see is that spikey haired jerk. He's standing against the wall, stirring a glass of whiskey, facing the door. He's been waiting for you.

He looks up from his drink to meet you with a smug smirk. “Don’t tell me; you had so much fun with me last year, that you just couldn’t resist spending it with me again."

“Shut the fuck up Kats. You know you had just as much fun as I did.” You reply, walking up to him. There was a fire in your step, one you didn't even track. Your chest was suddenly pressed against his, his arm snaking around your waist.

"You know, the extras are all outside. Nobody would even hear us," he whispers, nibbling your earlobe as your body shakes slightly in anticipation.

"Kats, come on, I came to see everyone, not you." You whine, knowing you're feeling weak in the knees already.

"Well, I only came to see you. 'M patient though. Waited for you all year." He blushes, and for a moment, you question what he means by that. He'd probably hooked up with plenty of people since you last saw him... right?

"W-wait, Kats.... waited for me.... meaning...?"

"You know exactly what I mean, dummy." He takes your hand, rubbing his fingers across your knuckles. "Been waiting for you for years at this point."

[sugoi-and-spice]

Taking Care, Taking What's Mine - A "Play Nice" Commission

Summary: A Play Nice AU Chapter, in which, rather than taking the high road and trying to build a real relationship with the girl he's been sextorting for weeks, Tomura Shigaraki baby-traps her instead.

CW: Quirkless!AU, Dub-Con, Smut, Extortion, Baby-Trapping, Forced Pregnancy, Love-Bombing, Manipulation, Power Play, Possessive Shigaraki, Yandere Shigaraki, Morning Sickness, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

AO3 Link

A/N: Happy fucking Father's Day readers!! Lmao! I got this AMAZING commission a while ago to write an AU of my AU (a fanfic writer's dream come true honestly), of Shigaraki baby-trapping MC and well, while it took longer then I meant it to to come out, I'm so glad that I could post it on Father' Day of all days lmao.

Anyway though, this was so much fun to write. Shigaraki has been on the journey of bettering himself for so long in Play Nice now, it was a total blast returning to form and writing him nice and scummy again.

I'd love to do more of these honestly, so as a reminder: I give discounts on Commissions that take place in my AU's.

Play Nice, Burnt Bridges, Step by Step -- all of them. They're super fun for me to write and most of the heavy-lifting of ideating and plotting has already been done for them, so I'm happy to write fics like this for cheaper. :)

Anyway, enjoy some forced parentification on this day of dads. xD

“Hey, hey— are you alright?”

She lifted her head from where she’d been resting it against her gym locker, the coolness of the metal being the first thing to even remotely ease the headache she’d been fighting for the last three days. 

“Yeah, of course,” she tried to force a weak smile as Nejire approached her, clearly concerned, “Why do you ask?

The captain was dressed in her practice suit. And she quickly realized that so were all the other girls, most of them already making their way out the doors to the pool deck. She was the lone straggler who hadn’t even managed to undo her uniform tie yet. Nejire looked over at these girls, and then back to her, wordlessly demonstrating why that should be obvious.

She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head, “Okay, I guess I’m feeling a bit under the weather today…”

And that was the understatement of the century. She felt like absolute shit . Piling on top of that stubborn pounding in her head were a pair of really sore tits, a lethargy that stuck with her no matter how much vending machine coffee she chugged, and cramps that had shot straight out of hell and directly into her uterus.

But to be honest, she couldn’t complain too much about these ailments. In fact, she was pretty damn relieved. These were all her tell-tale signs of PMS. They were a little worse than usual this time around sure, but if that was the tradeoff for the relief of not being pregnant, she’d take it in a heartbeat. Her period was only one day late at this point and it had all but paralyzed her with fear.

Of course in retrospect, the fear did seem a bit silly. After all, Shigaraki’s creepy family doctor had warned her there might be some changes.

“I never start patients new to birth control immediately on a Long Acting Reversible Contraception,” he explained, “Especially not teenagers.”

“Why not?” she demanded, “It’s reversible, right? It’s not like you’re tying my tubes or anything.”

“No, but you never know how your body is going to react to the hormonal shift. You could develop acne, weight gain, hair growth—”

“I don’t care about that superficial stuff.”

“... Migraines, blood clots, depression,” he continued, looking at her pointedly.

She looked away, feeling a bit stupid for interrupting him now that he’d listed the more serious side-effects.

“I’m not saying you have to stay on the pill forever. But give it a few months, see how you feel on it. It can help us better determine which long-term birth control is best for your body without any unnecessarily invasive procedures.”

She shuddered at the very thought of being stuck in this set-up with Shigaraki for months. She hoped he’d get bored of her sooner rather than later.

Well, on the brightside, at least this sketchy-ass doctor seemed to be as interested in looking under her skirt as she was having him down there. However, this still left the ever so pertinent issue of:

“Okay, but there’s still the issue of getting the pills. No pharmacy is going to give me these without signed parental consent.” She had the always convenient Japanese purity culture to thank for that.

Ujiko simply smiled and pulled out a wheel of birth control pills from his medical bag right then and there.

“Consider these the same as this appointment,” he said, cupping his hands over hers and placing the wheel firmly into her palm, “ Off the record. ”

And then the rest of the “appointment” had descended into one of extremely thinly-veiled intimidation that bizarrely enough, she’d relied on Shigaraki of all people to save her from. By that point, she’d been scared so shitless she had very little argument left in her to try and reason him into just giving her the damn IUD.

The regret of not standing her ground on the issue did hit her later that night on the train home. Particularly when she thought over the fact that the way they were keeping these pills off the record was by having her pick up her refills through Shigaraki. The idea of giving him even more power over her like that made her feel sick to her stomach. And yes, while logically she knew that he had just as much motivation to keep her from getting pregnant as she did (she had a feeling All for One would not take too kindly to his star successor knocking up a lowly commoner such as herself), she still just had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

So she’d resolved herself on her first refill day to completely lay into Shigaraki for any level of tomfoolery he may get up to in this situation. There would be no forgetting, no being too busy to pick up the pills for her, absolutely nothing. She was ready to rain full fire and brimstone on him if there was even a hint of bullshit.

But to her surprise (and relief), she hadn’t even crossed the threshold of his bedroom before he was tossing a new pack to replace her wheel with. Simple and nonchalant, and then he was just as quick as always to badger her about getting her clothes off already, get on the bed already, break up with your boyfriend already.

It was the same old, same old — for better or for worse. Even if she couldn’t trust Tomura Shigaraki himself, that action had at least ensured that she could trust his own desire for self-preservation.

And that was better than nothing she supposed.

Back in the locker room, Nejire asked her, “Do you think you’re coming down with something?”

She smiled at her friend, joking, “Nothing I don’t come down with every month.”

Nejire tilted her head in confusion for a moment before the lightbulb visibly lit up in her head.

“Ohhhhh,” Nejire nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, Aunt Flow can be a real meanie sometimes, huh?”

She laughed, then winced as the action worsened the throbbing in her head,  “Damn it— you can say that again.”

Nejire’s brows furrowed and she brought a hand to the small of her friend’s back, “Hey, why don’t you take this afternoon off?”

She looked back to her, surprised, “Oh no, I couldn’t…”

“Sure you could!” Nejire chirped, “And honestly, you probably should. We’re working on our weakest strokes today. I had you down to work on your fly.”

Visible dread filled her as she thought about doing that much undulation in her current state.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Nejire laughed, “Seriously, go home. We’ll miss you, but we love you too. So we want you to take care of yourself.”

She debated a little more internally, one other loose thread dropping into her mind’s eye.

“If I do… Do you mind—”

“I’ll let Mirio know,” she shot her a wink as she clarified, “ After practice. I’ll let him know you just need the peace and quiet.”

She smiled at Nejire, genuinely grateful. This. This right here was what made all of the bending over backwards she did to fit in and please others worth it. To be cared about by such a good person. 

The warmth of that care stayed with her all the way out to the school gates, where she was then immediately filled with dread upon realizing that she’d need to go in one of two directions depending on where she was going after school: the train station home, or the walk to Shigaraki’s.

And just which direction she was scheduled to go today.

She let out a long groan, anguished and loud enough to startle a couple members of the going home club that passed her. For once though, she didn’t care about her reputation, she was too focussed on what a goddamn nightmare she was falling into.

She pulled out her cellphone with a sigh. Yes she knew the effort was probably futile, but damn her if she didn’t at least try.

Yup. She could’ve seen that coming from a mile away. She sighed as she shoved her phone back into her bag and started the very slow trek over to Shigaraki’s. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Shigaraki said as he looked her over his doorway, “You look like shit.”

She shot him a wholly unimpressed look as she shoved past him into his bedroom.

“Yeah, I fucking told you.” 

Shigaraki, surprisingly, didn't have anything to say about her tone, even with her brusqueness towards him being more than usual. He just watched her drop down face first onto his bed and curl her legs up into her chest.

She sighed at the slight relief the position gave her. While dealing with Shigaraki’s antics was about the last thing she wanted right now, she supposed that at least she could be grateful for how much closer his apartment was to her school then her own home was. It saved her a good fifty-minutes of white-knuckling a train stanchion to keep down her groans of pain. Now at least she could get the relief of laying down much sooner.

If only for a little bit.

“What’s going on?”

She bristled at Shigaraki’s voice, the unwelcome reminder that she wasn’t going to be able to truly relax right now. And while there didn’t seem to be any entendre or even impatience in his question, the fact that his voice was getting closer to her was enough to make her suspicious.

“My head aches, my back aches, my boobs ache — everything aches,” she grumbled down into his sheets, “And I feel like I’ve been donkey-kicked straight in the uterus.”

“You start your period or something?”

He didn’t sound sarcastic when he asked it, not that typical boy way of asking any time a girl did something they considered “moody”. It was a genuine question. But it irritated her all the same. 

Everything seemed to be irritating her these days.

“About to,” she answered, “It’s like a day late, but it’s definitely coming.”

She felt the bed shift a bit as he sat next to her.

“Are you nauseous at all?”

Her brows furrowed, a bit confused by the interest.

“I guess a little,” she answered, because even though it was mild, there was a certain turn in her stomach that wasn’t unlike motion sickness, “But honestly, I think it’s just from the pain. This has been going on for like three days.”

“Have you taken anything for it?”

She could’ve laughed if she wasn’t so annoyed by the reminder of all her futile attempts to alleviate this. Because of course he was looking for a quick fix so they could fuck already.

“I’ve taken everything for it,” she groaned, “Nothing’s working.”

He just hummed in response, and then she could feel the sheets behind her dip a bit as he repositioned himself. Into what orientation, she wasn’t sure. She was about to turn her head back and ask him what he was doing when she felt his hand featherlight across her hip.

And between her legs.

“No, Shigaraki please,” she whined, pulling he knees closer into her chest, “I’m not kidding, I’m seriously in a lot of pain—”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Tell that to your hand then,” she snapped as his fingers tried to wiggle their way between her clenched thighs.

“I mean I’m not doing anything for me. This is for you.”

“Oh is it now,” she deadpanned.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he insisted, more irritably this time, “Orgasms help with cramps, right?”

She stilled, sufficiently stumped by that particular statement. Because yes, she could say from experience that they absolutely did. She’d spent many a nasty period with her fingers latched to clit to chase that particular path of relief. 

…but why the hell did Shigaraki know that?

She gasped as she suddenly felt the gentle roll of her clit under three fingers. Apparently, in her moments of distracted deliberation, Shigaraki managed to push his hand past the plush lock of her thighs and under the hem of her panties.

“Sh-Shigaraki…” she whined, pushing her elbow blindly and weakly back towards him.

He caught it gently in his free palm and, rather than trying to pin or strain it in whatever which way he desired, like usual, he just held it there. Didn’t even hold it in place really, just shielded himself against its determined path towards his ribs.

“I’m serious,” he said, uncharacteristically soft, “I’m trying to help you.”

She finally mustered up the strength to — despite how much her aching abdomen hated her for it — turn and glower at Shigaraki.

“No funny business?” she pressed.

He settled his own flat expression on her, “When have I ever been funny?”

More times than she’d like to admit honestly, but she got what he was saying here. He was a pretty serious, straightforward person on principle. He didn’t bullshit, he didn’t pull cheap tricks, and, shockingly enough, he didn’t typically lie. Frustrating as it was, Tomura Shigaraki was pretty much always unapologetically himself and he always did what he wanted.

So if he said that he was doing this to help her, then she supposed that she didn't actually have a lot of reason to distrust him.

Plus, his fingers hadn’t stopped their soft, but affective ministrations between her legs, and the pleasant sparks of heated relief they were sending through her were undeniable.

She turned back onto her side with a sigh that was half-exasperation, half pleasure.

“Fine,” she said, throwing back quickly before he got too victorious, “But fuck around and I’ll kick you.”

Shigaraki just chuckled, a soft throaty sound that shouldn’t have sent the chills up her spine that it did, “Yeah, yeah…”

In one motion, careful not to jostle her too much, Shigaraki both pulled her back and scooched himself closer, until her back was nestled snug against his surprisingly firm chest and her head laid in the crux of his bicep.

With this new closeness he was able to be a bit more deliberate with the angle and pressure he used to rub at her swollen sex. And, while she hated to admit it, the increased blood flow between her legs was causing the pressure within her to build quite a bit faster than usual. Enough so that it had her letting go of the tension in her neck and joints — the automatic stress reaction she had to any of Shigaraki’s displays of intimacy — and letting the weight of her head drop fully into his embrace.

A shuddering sigh left Shigaraki at that clear relinquishing of control, of the way she truly let herself lay back and relax into him. It gave him the encouragement he needed to enjoy her to the fullest extent that he wanted her as well, burying his nose deep into her hair. 

He started to stroke wider circles around her, the flats of his fingers never leaving her clit, but now allowing the tips to dip softly into her entrance. He didn’t push them in at all past his first knuckles, just enough to catch some of that growing wetness and spread it all across her fluttering lips.

“A-Ah—” she gasped out, “Sh-shit…”

“Like that?” he rasped, hot against her ear.

She bit her lip, nodding needily, “Mm— Mm-hmm…”

He groaned at the response, doubling down on that motion as he started to stud long, hot kisses down the back of her jaw and neck. The feeling, so gentle and intimate and good in combination to the way he worked her sex, had her unconsciously rocking her hips into his touch, and back into his own.

Vaguely through the haze, she could feel the familiar outline of his stiff cock against the cleft of her ass, but shockingly he didn’t try to grind it against her for relief. If anything actually, when her own hips moved unconsciously back against it, he actually shifted his own hips away, anglind them down so his erection pushed into the bed instead. As if he didn’t want her to feel it, that he was concerned about her feeling pressured by its presence.

She didn’t have the chance to think too much into that though, not when his fingers were coaxing her closer to the edge by the second. The mess between her legs was obscene at this point, through teary eyes she could see the overflow of it spreading wide across her thighs and pooling down in the sheets. 

“God look at you, so fucking wet,” he groaned, lips having made it down to her shoulder and staying there so that he could have a better view of her writhing under his touch, “You needed this, huh? Fucking needed me…”

She buried her face into his arm to muffle her moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but also not wanting him to stop.

By some act of God, Shigaraki didn’t push for that answer either. She wasn’t sure why he’d abandoned his typical demands and taunts, didn’t threaten to stop until she gave him the verbal submission and begrudging praise he always wanted. Nor did she stop to think about why, she just let the gratitude course through her, spurred further and wider by the waves of heat rushing through her body, threatening — promising — to overflow.

Shigaraki could feel that axiomatic tension in her body, the boiling point it promised, and sped up his hand to stoke the flames.

“You’re close aren’t you? Oh yeah, you’re close…” his kisses turned to nips at her neck between progressively more demanding growls, “Gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

Fuck, hearing those last words spill from his mouth should not have done what it was doing to her. But it was speeding up her peak, and it was speeding it up audibly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s good, really good. Let it go. Go ahead, be a good girl and let it go.”

She cried out, her arching back forcing her face forward and mouth unmuffled as finally, finally her body went blissfully loose, the pain of the past few days overtaken by waves of heat and pleasure. One after the other, her hormone-driven sensitivity wrung out multiple orgasms, and his frantic fingers were happy to work her through each one until she was begging him to stop.

“Good girl, yeah, yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl,” he continued to praise, returning time and again to that phrase he could feel her getting unconsciously excited over, “That’s my good girl…”

It was just a few blurry moments of consciousness after that. She was pretty sure she whined something like “too much” to him at some point, and he whispered back something that she was sure was just utterly debauched right back. Or maybe it was sweet nothings, he had really favored those by the end of this escapade after all. 

Whatever it all was, she supposed it didn’t matter. All that mattered in those seconds of labored breaths and fluttering lashes was the beautiful bliss and relief that finally overtook her body. That allowed her to immediately fall asleep in his arms.

Shigaraki held her there for a long time after. He raked his eyes greedily across her body, letting himself carve every detail deep into his memory. He knew he didn’t need to, not anymore. Her boyfriend, her parents, hell, whether or not she got into Todai with him, it was all a non-issue now. There was no reason for him to lose this anymore. She wasn’t going anywhere in life without him. He was going to be able to revel in this sight for the rest of his life now. And he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was for that.

He chuckled a bit at that. Well, maybe lucky wasn’t the right word. This was all by design after all, weeks of very deliberate planning and deception. It was just like he’d always been taught. It didn’t matter what hand you’ve been dealt — and Tomura Shigaraki had certainly been dealt a shit hand in a lot of ways — a real winner made his own luck. 

Sensei would be mad, Shigaraki knew that much. Everyone would be mad in fact, but he didn’t care. He was just following the fundamental lesson Sensei himself had instilled in him the day they met. 

Take whatever you want, and fuck all the rest.

Several minutes into hearing those sweet deep breaths of unconsciousness from the beautiful girl in his arms, Shigaraki finally peeled his fingers away from her cunt.

And slid a wide hand up to cradle her tummy.

It was dark when she woke up, not a single one of Shigaraki’s many monitors or television lit the windowless room. That was odd for a couple of reasons, the first of which being that the overhead lighting had definitely been on when she’d dozed off. The second of which was that any time Shigaraki wasn’t preoccupied with helping her study or studying her, he was chronically attached to at least one screen, if not multiple, so it was more than a bit odd for him to have zero on. The reason for the lack of blue light however became quickly apparent as her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness.

Shigaraki wasn’t here.

She was totally alone in his room, alone and tucked into his bed. Had he gone to the bathroom or something? But then why would all the lights be off? It seemed like he’d probably been gone for a while. Weird…

She threw off the covers and flipped her legs around with much more ease than she’d done anything over the last three days, much to her relief. However long she’d been out, the sleep had clearly done her some good. The pounding in her head and pelvis had finally ceased, perhaps just in time for her to actually start her period. She did feel some dampness between her legs after all. Although…

Her face heated up as she remembered the much more likely cause of that.

Damn it, she thought with a groan, dropping her head into her hands. She couldn’t believe that she actually let him do that to her, for her. He was going to get entirely the wrong idea from it. The idea that she might actually like him and want to spend time with him, that there was some kind of connection between them that extended past the time she was required to spend with him to keep him satisfied. And she absolutely could not deal with that.

Being his little sex toy was one thing. A demoralizing thing, yes, but a manageable one. She’d seen the way Shigaraki treated things he objectified — games and magazines and the like. He got bored of them quickly. And if she was one of those things in his eyes, then eventually he’d get bored with her too and she’d be free.

If he was attached to her though? Had found connection in her and a desire to keep her in his life? She didn’t even want to consider that nightmare scenario.

She made her way out into the hallway, looking up and down from the empty bathroom on one end of the hall to the top of the staircase on the other. She didn’t have to contemplate the lack of presence on this floor for long though, when she heard Shigaraki’s voice echoing up from downstairs, talking emphatically to Kurogiri, she assumed. 

She couldn’t hear exactly what he was talking about, but whatever it was, he was being particular about it. “Don’t overcook” and “perfect” were a few of the words she managed to catch, so it was about food, maybe? The accompanying sounds of sizzling pans and clanking cookware would certainly support that. As would the smell that suddenly hit her.

It wasn’t an unpleasant smell by any means. In fact, it was salmon, one of her favorites. But for some reason at that moment, the smell hit her with a particular intensity that made her feel overwhelmed.

And really fucking nauseous.

She just barely made it to the toilet at the end of the hall, not even fully down to her knees by the time she was emptying her stomach into the bowl. It wasn’t just a brief moment of sickness either. The bouts were loud and long, she was sure that it echoed throughout the entire apartment. It left her red-faced, skin covered and hair clumped with sweat, not to mention still gagging long after she had nothing left to gag on.

A hand she barely even noticed came to rest on the small of her back in the midst of it all. It was only in the aftermath, spent and dry-heaving that she could process the fact that it was Shigaraki, kneeling at her side, patiently stroking small circles into her clammy skin and encouraging her softly.

“Let it out. Just let it all out.”

She groaned once she finally seemed to have a solid thirty seconds of dry, steady breath. And Shigaraki used that respite to nudge a glass of water into her hands.

“Here.”

She didn’t argue or agree, just took it from him with shaky hands, tossing half of it just into her mouth to swish around and spit the remaining bitterness from her tongue.

 “Drink some of it too.”

She nodded shakily, still too drained and disoriented to be irritated with his telling her what to do, or suspicious of the fact that he was being so nice. 

And still, as she took entirely too long to finish the rest of her water with timid little sips, he just knelt on the ground with her, moving the hand on her back to rest on her knee, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where a bruise would undoubtedly form. 

Finally, after a long, silent stretch, she managed to croak out, “W-What time is it?”

“Only seven,” he answered, “Kurogiri’s got dinner almost ready downstairs. Seared salmon, brown rice, avocado salad—”

She whined, shaking her head roughly at the very implication of food.

“Don’t like salmon?”

“I-I do… It’s just—” she gagged a little as she remembered that smell that had set this all off in the first place, “Th-The smell right now. It’s too much…”

“Oh yeah…” he nodded understandingly, muttering something to himself that she couldn’t quite make out. It sounded kind of like, “Heightened” and “Read about that…”

Her brows furrowed a bit, frustrated and confused. She was getting the feeling that he was really not telling her something.

“W-What?”

Shigaraki just waved her off, “No, that’s fine, that’s fine. Salmon’s not the only thing he made. There’s sauteed spinach, wakame tofu soup, toasted—” 

Jesus Christ, was Kurogiri cooking for an army down there or something? 

Well, whoever it was all for, and as delicious as it all sounded in theory, imagining those foods in practice right now was making her feel sick all over again.

“Mm-mm, Mm-mm!” she whined, shaking her head again.

She didn’t want to risk opening her mouth right now, lest she blow chunks all over the front of Shigaraki’s shirt. Although wouldn’t that be a nice little serving of karma for him…

“You need to eat something,” he insisted, more lecturey than she’d ever heard him, but with a strange gentleness to his voice as well, “And you need to drink some more too. You’re totally dehydrated.”

She shook her head more emphatically at that, which only resulted in her falling forward into his chest. 

He caught her before she could fall any further, scolding her not too harshly, in fact, a bit whimsically, “Is this how you’re gonna be the whole time?”

She pulled her head back to look at him, a confused furrow in her brows that brought the corners of his lips up.

“It’s not a bad look on you to be honest. All weak and petulant,” he brought a hand to pinch lightly at her cheek, “It’s kinda cute actually.”

Her eyes narrowed, finally feeling her stomach steady enough in her to be annoyed. He chuckled, just as amused and endeared by this look as the last. 

“Well how about okayu?” he offered with a patronizing little lilt, “And maybe some ginger tea?”

He clearly wasn’t going to let this go. And infuriatingly, he was right not to. She definitely was in no shape to go home on this empty stomach. 

She sighed.

“Yeah… Yeah okay.”

Going at her own shaking, snailish pace, Shigaraki helped her up onto her legs, pulling her immediately into his side as he led her back towards his bedroom. Normally she’d protest, stick an elbow right into his ribs and storm on ahead of him, but honestly she needed the help right now. So she sucked it up and let him lead her back into his bed. 

But that didn’t stop her from eying him suspiciously as he propped his pillows up behind her and tucked her back in under his comforter, the overall way he doted and fretted over her, even stopping to look back at her one more time from the doorway before he returned downstairs to give Kurogiri the new marching orders.

She dropped her head back against the pillows when finally alone, a bad feeling settling heavier and heavier in her stomach. This was beyond weird, the way he was acting. Sure, the guy was overbearing and constantly demanding of her attention, stupidly needy even. But doting? Not only willing but eager to put her needs ahead of his own? Caring deeply about her actual well-being and not just what he wanted to be her well-being? This was all way too out of character for him.

“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean. N-Not just the Doctor either… If um… If anything’s bothering you.”

She sighed at the memory. Alright, maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d shown at least some capability and even interest in her wants and well-being, he wasn’t a complete monster.

But still, all of this? The cooing and the caring and the, erm, servicing even that he’d done? It felt like too much. Like she was missing something really key about it all.

Like something was wrong .

Whether she ended up getting lost in that train of thought for long, or Kurogiri had already had some okayu whipped up downstairs, she wasn’t sure, but she was startled by how quickly it seemed that Shigaraki returned with a breakfast tray in hand. She cocked her head as he set it up over her lap, this was a lot more robust than she was expecting, and, she realized as she examined everything on the tray, a lot more stocked as well.

There was okayu, front and center for her, yes. But also on the tray was another small bowl of soup (looked like the wakame that Shigaraki had mentioned, a thing of plain yogurt (the really fancy kind that came in the glass jars), a glass of orange juice…

And a little dish of four pills. 

Painkillers or antiemetics maybe? They looked more like vitamins…

“Go ahead and start with the okayu if you want,” Shigaraki explained as he climbed up into the bed next to her, “But I want you to try and get some of the wakame and yogurt down too…”

As he settled down, his legs flush with her own, he continued to rattle off instructions and explanations for the rest of her tray, sending her mind completely spinning, faster and faster, like a goddamn Gravitron.

And she was ready to get the fuck off.

“...if nothing else though, take the vitamins. You need the folate, calcium, iron, and the omega-3 especially, since you don’t want the salmon—”

“Okay, stop, stop, stop !”

Shigaraki paused, having the audacity to look at her like she was crazy for snapping. 

“Jesus—what the hell are you even talking about Shigaraki?!” she demanded, “What’d you say, folate? What? What is all this?”

He cocked his head, clearly playing innocent. Whatever this was, he was clearly enjoying the slow unraveling of it all.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” she snapped, “All this attention and doting and food stuff! What the hell is this all about?!”

He just smiled back at her, taking in how pretty she looked, even when mad (especially when mad sometimes), God, to think that this really was his forever now. He wondered if they had a girl, how much she’d look like her. He hoped a lot…

“I just want to make sure you’re getting all the vitamins and nutrients you need…”

He reached over then, spreading his hand flat against her stomach.

“ Both of you .”

She froze.

No.

No, he couldn’t mean—

She tried to speak, tried to ask what the ever-loving- fuck he was talking about, but her mouth had seemed to go dry. She tried several times to open and wet it a bit, but every time she did, it felt like her throat was closing too. It took at least four desperate attempts for her to finally force out one rasped:

“... what? ”

Shigaraki’s grin widened, and he started to rub circles gently across her belly.

“You’re gonna look so cute, all big and round with my kid,” he giggled suddenly as he remembered something, “Oh, and your tits too. I wonder how big they’re gonna get…”

She stared at him, unblinking, unbreathing. Everything but un-fucking-existing.

He couldn’t be serious. He was fucking with her. He had to be fucking with her!

“Th-That’s not funny.”

His grin evened a little, not disappearing outright, but settling away some of its blissful excitement into something more coyly victorious.

“I said it already,” he reminded, “When have I ever been funny?”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“N-No. No, no, no this isn’t— there’s no way—”

“I’ve got the tests ready when you need to pee, but I think it’s pretty clear. These are all the symptoms I read about.”

“No!” she insisted, “N-No, no— this is, it’s my period! It’s just a day late, it’s not—!”

He chuckled, “I know the symptoms can be similar, but come on. When’s the last time you’ve hurled like that thanks to your period? And the sensitivity to smell? You know this is different.”

Crumbling, every argument she could possibly think of was crumbling to dust before she could even get the thought fully formed. And cruel, vicious reality was more than happy to take its place.

“B-But my birth control pills…”

“Fertility pills,” he explained, his splitting-grin returning in full, “I would’ve preferred to get Clomid from the doctor, but it looks like the over the counter stuff and tracking your cycle worked just fine.”

Her stomach dropped. Pieces of memories, peculiar behaviors and nagging thoughts she’d had over the last two months falling into place. How there were stretches of times where he’d cancel their sessions, only to insist they make them up a few specific days in a row. How he wanted to go multiple rounds a lot those days. How he’d stopped wanting blowjobs from her entirely. How he seemed to only want to fuck her from behind or with her knees pressed hard into her chest, positions he could fuck her the deepest in.

And how he’d have her stay still with his cock buried in her after he came. 

Back then, she just thought he was being weird and pervy. And in a way she was right.

Horribly fucking right.

Shigaraki shifted his legs away from her so that he could bring his head down to her lap, laying his cheek blissfully against her belly. 

“Was so easy,” he hummed against her skin, “Like your body was just waiting for me to knock you up. Waiting for me to make you mine…”

His hands moved across her body, one coiling behind her back so that he could pull her tighter into him, the other lacing his fingers through her own. The fingers on her trembling left hand.

“Both of you, forever,” he growled happily, a predator who had finally and definitively sunk his teeth into his prey, “All mine.”

[call-me-chips]

I couldn't find a good pose for the life of me, so I tried to salvage a failed Jirou sketch from a while ago

So here's a quirkless band au Jirou :3

Reblogs are really appreciated <33

[revolvingsaturn]

Summary: After he returns your dog, Tomura Shigaraki becomes more than just a friend. Mini oneshot charting your relationship from December-June. A little longer than usual due to plot building, but skip to the ✧.* just for the smut.

(This is a quirkless au, so he isn’t an international level threat in this fic- but don’t worry, he’s still a little bit pathetic)

🫧🌱

You watch absentmindedly as your breath crystallises to cloudy opaqueness in the chilly air. Japan is making the transition to early December, and your body shivers as you rub your hands together on the bench you’re sat on in the frostbitten park. Your dog, Sora, sits patiently at your feet while you hold his leash, his fur ruffled by the chilly wind as your cheeks grow ever pinker in the cold.

You’re just thinking about getting a tea or coffee in the warm, inviting cafe across the street from the frosty park when your dark green scarf is ripped away from its snug positioning around your neck by the wind. Sora’s well behaved, you have faith he’ll stay put while you chase after your scarf. Shivering, heavily annoyed, and determined to get a tea from the cafe, you wrap your scarf comfortably around your neck again as snowflakes start to descend lightly from the sky. You smile in spite of the cold when the flakes tickle your cheeks and melt upon coming into contact with your soft skin; but when you turn around, Sora is noticeably and terrifyingly absent from his place near the bench.

You immediately break into a panic, head whipping around as you frantically start to look around for him. Loudly calling out his name, you start to hurriedly stride across the path of the park, eyes scanning the snow as it begins to stick to the grass and lie like powdered glass in a soft sheen across both the sky and floor. You call out Sora’s name again and again, trying not to cry in sheer panic at the thought of him running into the road, or you never finding him and him getting frostbite, or maybe-

“Um, hey, is.. is he yours?”

Your head snaps around so fast you almost get whiplash, eyes making contact with Sora as he sits happily on the floor. He’s licking at his wet nose, snowflakes catching on his pink tongue and you sigh in relief, dropping to your knees to hug him. Too caught up in hugging him and promising you’ll never let go of him again, you forget to look at the person returning him to you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry- um, hi, thanks for finding him.” You say towards the stranger wrapped up in a black scarf above you, giving him your name and breaking into another relived smile as you take Sora’s leash from his pale hand. His eyes are hidden behind locks of powder blue hair, but they make contact with yours just the same as snow buries itself and melts on the patterned fabric of your scarf; a well done present you’d been gifted by family as a congratulations for your recent acceptance to United Alliance University.

“I’m Tomura, by the way. Tomura Shigaraki.” He says, tucking his free hand into the pocket of his jacket. “Oh, and this is Mon.” He gestures down to the Corgi at his feet; “we found Sora enjoying the snow.”

“He must’ve got excited and ran off.” You say back to him, smiling and blinking the snow off your eyelashes. “I’m so glad you found him, um- can I buy you a tea, or something, to make up for it?” You ask tentatively.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” He says in response, lips curving upwards as you both turn in the direction of the cafe.

You can’t pinpoint the exact day you start dating Tomura. Mid February, you think. All you know is that on one of your regular walks with Sora and Mon, his hand slips from his pocket to hold onto yours and doesn’t let go again, and suddenly he’s attending library study sessions with you and spending hours talking on park benches and street corners.

All you know is you’re ever thankful for it snowing in mid December as he drags you away from a family gathering to softly kiss you in the warmth of fairy lights, ever thankful for Sora not staying put as his hand makes its way down the front of your jeans in your family’s spare bedroom while you whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

You move into a new apartment in February. The trees get used to not being barren and instead having green leaves again as you get used to turning the key in the lock, get used to kicking your shoes off after a day of University classes and flopping onto the sofa while a vinyl crackles in the background. You need help unpacking in the spare bedroom by April, a task you’ve been putting off for months; you call Tomura over, but you only get through two out of many more cardboard boxes by the time he’s pulling you down onto the bed and kissing you while you straddle him and hastily pull your shirt over your head.

After, as you lazily sit up in the crumpled sheets while reclasping the bra Tomura removed, you pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh in defeat.

“I’m never gonna get this apartment finished if you keep doing that.”

“Well, if I was here all the time it’d be worse.” He grins cockily over at you from the corner as he hops on one leg to pull his jeans on again, denim catching on his foot and he swears in annoyance under his breath.

“Do you- would you like to be here all the time?” You ask nervously, fingers entwining with each other anxiously. His head snaps up, and he’s suddenly grinning at you so widely you’re pulling him back down onto the mattress soon after.

He moves in officially a couple of weeks after.

The spare room still doesn’t get unpacked.

It’s early June, and unseasonably warm; you’re in the living room of your now shared apartment, Tomura splayed out spread eagle on the rug as you lie on the couch. The continual whirring noise of your fan is hidden by the music that comes from your record player while a vinyl spins and crackles through the humid air. Both Sora and Mon are basking in the sun that shines in through the little window of your spare bedroom-still not fully unpacked- so it’s just you and him in the room.

The apartment is lovely, apart from that though. It’s all warm lights and soft sun, chipped mugs in the cupboards you both share coffee over in the mornings and sheets in the bedroom you get tangled up in at night. It’s homely, and you like it.

✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

You’re too busy trying to get comfy to notice how Tomura has silently manoeuvred himself to sit up next to your waist at the middle of the couch, and you’re too busy trying to figure out how he silently manoeuvred himself to notice the hand slinking around your waist under your shirt. You jump when you feel his palm make contact with your skin as it slips beneath the material, eyes fluttering open and meeting his. Before you can argue- not that you were planning on it- he’s pulling you to sit up on the sofa cushions and standing up himself to cup your face in his clammy palms, nipping at your bottom lip and grinning when you pant in indignance down at him as he pulls back to kneel in front of you.

He makes quick work of your shorts and underwear, pulling them down your legs and hauling your legs over his shoulders before he leans forwards and licks a stripe up your pussy. You shudder when his lips make contact with your clit and suck, but it spurs him on- he keeps licking messily at you, keening when your hand reaches out and grips at his scalp. You breathe out a soft apology through quiet moans but he bypasses it, he’s used to it by now.

When you first started having sex, Tomura was shy- he was reluctant because he wanted you to enjoy it, wasn’t sure if he was good at what he was doing; but after a few months of learning everything about you, from what flavours of tea you liked to take your birth control with to what angle to thrust into you to ensure you saw stars, it was fair to say he was feeling a little more confident.

He’s working the coil in your stomach up to a precipice, gripping at your thighs to keep you steady as you whine and grind into his face. Your head rolls back in synchronicity with your eyes when he releases one of his hands from your thighs to work two fingers into you, the stretch has you gasping and you throb. You know you’re going to cum soon, and so does Tomura- he doesn’t stop once, fingers curling rhythmically with the same tempo that his tongue draws shapes over your clit.

“M’ gonna, holy shit, Tomura-“ you manage to say shakily between moans. He looks up at you in the light of your living room and your heart skips a beat before your legs are clenching around his head hard enough, it feels, to crush him but it just makes him moan into you. By the time you’ve recovered enough from your orgasm to drag your legs away from his grasp, he’s painfully hard; you gaze down at him, eyes meeting with something like reverence but so overwhelmingly clouded with lust you can’t think straight.

You drag him to his feet, wobbling on weak legs as you kiss him again. You can taste yourself on his lips as your tongue licks into his mouth, one of his hands fisting at your hair while the other rests on your waist; your hands are a different story, one palming his cock through the layers of fabric covering it and the other reaching blindly backwards to find the door handle of your shared bedroom. Tomura kicks the spare bedroom door closed on the way, ensuring neither Mon nor Sora can interrupt what’s about to happen.

He’s crawling on top of you, fingers slipping down to slip through your slick while you tug his underwear down to reveal his cock; you waste no time in tugging off your shirt and bra. Tomura palms at your chest while you wriggle a hand between your bodies to tilt your hips up and he’s thrusting inside of you, filling you completely. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve done this together, but having him inside you never gets old- his cock prods at the spot inside you that you just can’t ever seem to reach without him and you groan.

He crushes his lips against yours and pants into your open mouth, moans reverberating against each other as you clench around him. He moves his desperate lips from yours to mouth against the column of your throat, sucking and kissing every few inches as he licks from your throat, across your jawline, and back down to your collarbone and even further to your tits; marks in the shade of plums and the shape of his teeth blossom over your chest and you don’t miss the way he whines desperately into you as his thrusts become more messy.

You’re close, you realise, as you reach a hand down to glide over your clit. Tomura’s too far gone to do it himself, but you don’t mind- the sight of him losing himself in you is more than enough satisfaction for you as he pants into the air, a cacophony of sex filling the space in your bedroom. You squeeze around him as you near your second orgasm, eliciting a gasp from him in response. Your back arches and your eyes screw up as you moan jarringly loudly when you cum, and the feeling of you pulsing around him is enough to tip Tomura over the edge- he cums with a strangled cry of your name, biting down hard on your shoulder.

You both lie there, Tomura smothering you, for a few minutes before he pulls out of you; he winces at the overstimulation to his cock and you sigh at the loss of him. You grimace feeling his release drip out of you, but it’s worth it as you lie facing each other in your bed.

He breaks the comfortable silence first.

“M’ sorry for biting you.” He says sheepishly, eyes fixated on the rather large mark he left on your shoulder. His fingers reach out to brush over it, and you smile softly over at him.

“S’ okay. I liked it.” You say back to him. You’re so close your breath ruffles at his hair, and you bring a hand to skirt up his abdomen and rest at the back of his head to pull him into a soft kiss.

You pull away breathless, eyes meeting his.

“Love you, Tomura.” You whisper into the air, a confession backlit by the sun that lazily streams into the room. You’ve said it before, but it never loses its meaning; you really do love him, you think. You think you love him from the way he tries to hide his face with his hand when he laughs to the way he holds your hand on walks with Mon and Sora, fingers entwined in a silent announcement that you’re his and nobody else’s.

“Yeah, love you too.” He says.

As you gaze forwards, out of the doorframe, you can make out the coat hook by the door. There’s an umbrella propped up against the wall, there’s a small table with a little tray for your keys shaped like a sakura flower, and there’s two scarves hooked on the wall.

One dark green, the other black.

Entwined.

And the spare room is still unpacked.

🫧🌱

Comments appreciated! :))

[xskyll]

I think I found a brush I like.

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