🤍

she/her black girl all mf day 19 virgo

[sevikasblackgf]

formerly known as @sevikasblackgf

BACK TO MY ROOTS

FORMERLY KNOWN AS @logansblackgf FOR A LIL WHILE

[weirdergirlbrina]

The moment Katsuki falls in love with you, he’s standing in front of you like a giant dog with his tail tucked between his legs while you go off on him, genuine shock written on his face.

He doesn’t even know what to do, he’s so caught off guard.

One second he was being his usual self, short tempered, too blunt, a little brash.

The next, you’re in front of him absolutely laying into him.

And not in that nervous, stumbly way people usually do around him either.

No.

You’re pissed.

“Get it together or get lost Katsuki. You’re a grown ass man, figure it out.” you snap, voice sharp.

And all he can do is stare at you.

It’s the first time he’s ever seen you angry.

He’d honestly started to think you didn’t have it in you, always so damn patient and sweet.

He’s standing there, mouth slightly agape.

A whole pro hero.

One of the strongest people around.

Getting chewed out by someone half his size and somehow losing.

He knows he looks dumb right now, he’s vaguely aware of it at least.

But the way you defend yourself, the fierce look in your eye that’s unwilling to back down.

It stirs something in him, something… hot and almost primal.

When you finally finish your rant, chest heaving and anger slowly simmering, he’s practically staring at you with stars in his eyes.

Your angry little frown deepens, “Anything to say?”

“No ma’am”, is all that comes out, cool and calm.

You huff, turning around and grumbling under your breath.

And he just watches you leave, heart beating hard under his ribs.

He thinks about it for the rest of the week.

..Then the week after that.

Then one day, retelling the story to Kirishima who’s got that dumb smug grin on his face, he realizes he hasn’t stopped thinking about the look in your eyes since.

And that’s when he knows.

He’s completely screwed.

————————————————————————

A/N: went for a run & this came to me…. took a breather so I could write it LMFAO

[bfbkg]

just coupled up! — bkg.

— love island season is back and so am i.

it’s one of those days in the villa where there’s nothing to do. just the beaming hot sun and attractive people all under one building… if anything, you mostly enjoy watching production behind the scenes. fixing cameras, changing lenses and one of your girls getting her mic fixed in the corner.

some of the boys are playing with the gym equipment, the girls standing in the pools chatting. a few couples have gone off to chat and so have you.

you sit cross legged on the day bed, opposite possibly one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in real life. is it normal to meet someone and immediately want to jump them? to wonder how their lips would feel against yours and their hard toned chest against your softer one.

he lays beside you, thick bicep propping his head up on the pillow so he can see you properly. you recoupled with katsuki last night, drawn in by his pretty red eyes and the few flirtatious conversations you had previously. well mostly the blunt compliments and slight nervousness from him, that easily got you giddy and running your finger down his arm. you want to know more, you especially want to know if he’s boyfriend material.

you scoot closer to him so your knee is touching his side and you can flatten your hand on his collarbone. you watch as his breath hitches at your touch, his eyes staying on your face and not dropping to the tiny piece of fabric between your thighs or your chest.

“i wanna know more about you,” you say, lifting up his black lenses sunglasses off his nose bridge just to check he’s looking at you. he is. two shiny rubies glittering. then you drop the glasses back onto his nose.

you feel his whole body hum, “can say the same about you.”

bakugou is brave when he places a hand on your bare thigh. your eyes widen just a smidge before biting down on your lip. fuck, it is way too early to feel this much sexual tension. you want to drag him into the hideaway and push him down onto the mattress.

politely, you take your hand off his collarbone and his hand off your thigh. “sorry, i can’t think straight with the touching,” you blink a few times like you’re clearing your head, adjusting your posture and stretching your fingers, “i’m serious. i wanna know about your family, your friends on the outside. what’s your usual morning routine… what’s the day in the life with katsuki. what about your last name?”

apparently, you don’t need to have him touch you to feel aroused, his smile can do it for you. the corners of his lips reach up, revealing bright white straight teeth and a gold tooth on his canine. how’d be get that? why? you need to know everything. he adjusts the waistband of his black swim trunks.

“fuck, you’re adorable. one by one, yeah? and then you answer the same question.” his hands are back on his own chest, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you. even the urge to look between your legs, your cute thighs and that tiny strip of fabric hiding nothing.

you nod, adjusting your hair because you want to look perfect in front of him even though he’s seen how you look when you wake up.

“i usually go to the gym every morning.”

your face scrunches. unimpressed, confused, icked out… katsuki doesn’t get it.

he frowns back at you, “what’s wrong with that?”

“every morning?”

“yeah, gotta stay ready for my work. part of my routine.”

you pout, looking away. you don’t mean to but you run the tip of your finger down the vein in his forearm.

“i need cuddles in the morning if i’m waking up beside my man. i’d hate waking up beside an empty spot all the time in a relationship.”

bakugou lets every word sink into his skin like the sunscreen he slapped on earlier.

“i’d adjust for my girlfriend.” in other words he’d adjust for you. “i’d probably wanna do a lil more than cuddle in the mornin’.” if i woke up beside you.

that gets you staring at his lips. pink and in a small smirk. he has to be an eater. you want to run your tongue along the scar on his cheek. feel his hands back on your body.

“that’s good to know, katsuki. really good to know.”

you’re trying to be serious but the giggles spill out of you faster than you can catch.

“is it too early to say i’ve never felt tension like this before? if we weren’t in here….,” you trail off, you know exactly what you want to say.

“no i get it. fuckin’ magnetic,” then he wipes under his nose. he’s eager for any piece of you you’re willing to give. if it’s a touch, a thought, a look. anything. “if we weren’t here what?”

he’s so naturally flirtatious. you don’t think he even means to be. he’s cutely bad at eye contact sometimes, like your presence overwhelms him. then other times, like when it’s just you and him, it feels you’re the only one in the villa, actually the whole planet.

you lean in closer to his face, nose to nose, “i’m not telling you yet.” then you’re back sitting up straight.

“fine, princess. what’s your morning like?”

“well, mr pro hero, i always wanna be in bed as long as possible. cuddles in bed, morning sex, breakfast in bed, some shitty tv. on the weekend at least.”

bakugou raises his eyebrows, “just the weekend? we can stretch that midweek too, i think.”

you’re trying to hide your smile, biting it down, “and then after i’m happy and fed, you can do whatever you do in the gym.”

“fucked and fed.”

you slap his arm, “katsuki!”

he grabs your hand in the air and shrugs his shoulders. then sweetest, he loops his fingers with yours, “‘m not wrong.”

it’s the demons that push you to ask your next question. you’re supposed to find out about his family, his background, there’s so many questions you can ask about his job.

“what’s your favourite position?”

you wish you were wearing sunglasses right now, so you can subtly stare at his abdomen and all the scars that run over it.

bakugou’s laugh is short and huffy, like he wasn’t expecting that question but he’ll entertain you with an answer.

“i hope you know that even though i’ve never had a girlfriend, it doesn’t mean i fuck around.”

ah yes. this gorgeous prohero has never been locked down. it’s a fact he said a few days ago at the firepit. you’re not sure whether to take it as a red flag or not.

you’ve got no reason to assume he’s lying to you yet so you nod.

“okay! now answer me.”

he squeezes your hand in his, now resting your hands on his stomach. katsuki’s really thinking about this question, scrunching his nose and then releasing.

“this isn’t a cop out, but i love missionary where i have my partner folded,” then he flickers his gaze over to you, “y’know. like her knees to her ears. get to see her face and go deep.”

fuck, fuck, fuck. fuck.

“that’s like equally romantic, equally dirty.” you’re so turned on you hope it isn’t obvious. has anyone gone to the hideaway during the day?

bakugou shrugs. he wonders how you’d sound moaning his name. “i like knowin’ for sure i’m makin’ them feel good. tell me yours.”

with your other hand, you can’t help it, you’re back to drawing shapes on his chest. his other hand is back on your thigh, “i like when the guy is sitting and i’m sitting on top of him. the lotus position? that one is insane.”

“you’re just like me. you love some eye contact and feelin’ it deep, huh?”

you’re smiling at him, “and we can kiss while i cockwarm you.”

you both never realise when you switch to making it personal. like you know someday in the future you both will be doing this.

“cockwarm?” he pushes his sunglasses up his nose. squeezes your thigh.

“if your dick was inside me but not moving or thrusting. thats cockwarming.”

bakugou stares at your lips when you talk, how they curl and go into o shapes.

“oh fuck,” he breathes, tapping your thigh with two fingers, “yeah, that’s sexy.”

“hm,” you mumble, adjusting to now lay slightly on top of him. you stretch your legs out beside his, your arm across his chest and your head just under his.

there’s a few seconds of silence, choosing what’s the best decision to take next that doesn’t include having sex with you somewhere.

“we gotta talk about somethin’ else before i drag you into that fuckin’ hideaway at god knows what time it is.” he grunts, pulling at his shorts and adjusting his body on the bed. katsuki pulls off his sunglasses to rub a palm down his face.

“okay, okay!” you perch your head on his chest and his hand drifts down to your lower back. “when did you move here? you grew up in japan, right?”

he leaves his glasses off now, “yeah i did, i moved here about five years ago? i live in the south now.”

“i live near there too! about an hour drive,” something in common. “so, you must know some japanese.”

he chuckles and you feel his body shake under you, “it’s my native language so i know pretty much everythin’, babe.”

katsuki’s fascinated at how easy this is with you. that apparently it just took him to go in a dating show to find a woman he wants to keep forever.

you sit up on his chest slightly, tits now in his face and lips so reachable. his cock aches just a little.

“say something.”

“what should i say?”

“anything.”

bakugou thinks for a seconds then grins. he says a sentence and you only recognise one word.

“matcha? did you say matcha?” you pout, “you sound so sexy.”

you didn’t think he could get sexier. his voice is deeper in japanese, heck, it’s husky and intimate.

“i did,” he says in english, “any guesses?”

“something about me with my matcha?”

“close. i said ‘you want head first, matcha second in the morning’.”

you burst into giggles at that, your forehead flopping onto his shoulder. bakugou feels his heart swell at making you laugh.

“you’re so stupid,” you grin, “i know how to say hello and thank you.”

nearly everybody knows how to say that in japanese but bakugou thinks you’re incredibly cute. especially because you look so proud at your knowledge.

“go on then.”

“konnichiwa ! and arigato !”

bakugou thinks he’s going to die. especially, when he doesn’t say a word and your smile slowly drops into confusion.

“was that wrong? did i pronounce those wrong?”

“no, no, no. you’re perfect, just real fuckin’ cute, baby.”

“okay, good. arigato katsuki!”

“no problem, princess. now tell me about your family. who do i have to look out for?”

comments are appreciated! don’t ask for part two. i have a love island masterlist here and check the tag for more.

[vividxpages]

Jack would never be the kind of boyfriend who waits outside of the store on some bench, collectively staring at his phone with a bunch of other bored guys who are waiting for their girlfriends to finish up shopping.

He's carrying your bags and purse for you so you'll have two free hands while browsing. And he actually looks out for clothes you'd like too, he's not even carrying his phone with him. He just needs his card and one of your scrunchies on his wrist because he knows you're likely to sweat inside of the changing room later.

He's silently collecting the clothes you're picking on his arm, occasionally dropping some of his choices on there too.

There's also a smol water bottle tucked into his back pocket which shouldn't even fit but somehow does and makes you stare at his ass way too often. He can't have his baby girl get thirsty and have no refreshment close.

He loves how you gasp when spotting a pretty summer dress or cute heels! You get so giddy and walk away from him fast, but he never loses sight of you, not once.

Jack's favorite thing to shop for is underwear or bikinis.

Because for that, you always need his opinion and he slips behind the curtain of the changing room, backing you up against the big mirror while dropping the bags and taking a reaaally good look at you.

"Jesus, baby...you're so fucking beautiful." while his hands roam over your waist, his thumb slipping just past your cute flimsy bottoms.

"Don't you think it's too short?" Aw, you're blushing. Jack is so fucking hard.

"Too short for what? Our private pool at the air bnb with no one except us there? No, baby, it's alright." He kisses your forehead, his hand caressing your underboob that peeks out from the bra top. "You'll gonna look fucking hot, I can barely contain myself now, do you know what you'll do to me once we're on vacation?"

That bashful smile is gonna kill him.

Even more than the cute bikini on his girl.

[loves-alibi]

“Jack, sweetheart, why are you doing that?”

Your husband pauses, furrows his brow, then says as though it is the least perplexing thing in this world, “Shaving.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Yes, Jack. I can see that you're shaving."

His face pinches, "Uh, okay." Jack lifts the razor back up, shaving a thick line on one shaving cream-covered pec. "Why are you–?"

"Your chest, Jack," you say slowly, spelling it out for your husband, a man who is too dull for his own good sometimes. "Why are you shaving your chest?"

Jack looks sincerely shocked by your question. He sets the razor down on the counter, "Because it's hairy."

You almost lose your balance. Your hand shoots out to brace yourself on the kitchen counter, "Your chest... is hairy?"

Jack Abbot, the man with the smoothest torso you've ever seen, has chest hair? Fuck that! The man you married has chest hair?

"Yeah," he says as you spiral further and further. Then, as though it explains everything, "I'm an Abbot."

"Jack, please listen to me," you say, trying dearly to keep your voice even. "I'm willing to forgive you keeping this from me throughout three years of marriage, but I swear on your life that if a razor ever touches those tits again, I will be serving you divorce papers."

[mochaization]

𖦹 sukuna when his shy girlfriend gets overwhelmed ⋮ fluff.

♯ from this request, thank you for requesting! anyways is this considered shy..

being Sukuna's girlfriend came with a lot of assumptions. people assumed you were fearless, that you have the same confidence as him.

they couldn't have been more wrong.

you were shy, soft-spoken, and you love avoiding conversation whenever possible.

Sukuna, of course, knew better than anyone. which was why he always noticed when you get overwhelmed.

it would start with small things.

your responses became shorter, your smile looked a little forced, or your fingers played with your sleeve when conversations continued around you.

nobody else seemed to notice, except Sukuna.

the conversation caught up around him, but Sukuna had long since stopped listening.

his focus was on you instead.

the way your shoulders seemed a little tighter than before.

he frowned.

"Love," he called. " you're overwhelmed."

your head immediately snapped up. "What? No i'm not."

"Yeah, you are."

"I'm completely fine!"

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. "You've been staring at the exit for five minutes."

you glanced away. "You're seeing things."

He shrugged. "Sure."

a few people laughed at that, and your face immediately warmed. Sukuna shot them a look that shuts them up quickly.

a few minutes later, someone tried pulling you into another conversation.

"So what do you think?"

you froze. several pairs of eyes turned toward you, and you can feel your stomach dropped.

before you could pull out an answer, Sukuna stood.

"We're leaving."

"What?!" one of them complained. "You just got here!"

Sukuna grabbed his car keys from the table. "And?" his gaze toward you. "Come on."

the relief that crossed your face was immediate. unfortunately, someone noticed.

"She doesn't have to leave just because you wanted to."

the room went silent, Sukuna stared at them for a long moment.

"Do you want to stay?" he asked, looking at you.

".. No."

"There's your answer."

and just like that, the conversation ended.

by the time you reached the parking lot, the tension in your shoulders had already begun to fade.

"You should say something sooner," he said as he unlocked the car.

you slid into the passenger seat. "Didn't want to ruin everyone's fun."

Sukuna shut the driver's door. "That's a stupid reason," he muttered. "you were miserable and overwhelmed."

you stared out the window. he reached over and squeezed your knees, rubbing it after. you blushed immediately.

"Next time," he said, starting the engine. "tell me before you look like you're about to pass out."

you leaned your head against the window.

"I thought if i stayed a little longer, it'd get better."

he snorted. "It never does."

you let out a quiet laugh. "Hey, i was trying."

"You always do that," he continued. "you stay longer than you want to because you're worried about what everyone else will think if you leave early."

your fingers curled in your lap. "Oh, harsh truth," you chuckled. "i just didn't want to be difficult."

"You're not," he said. "trust me."

for a second, neither of you spoke. the hum of the engine filled the presence.

then he sighed. "If you're tired, say you're tired," he started. "or if you're overwhelmed, tell me immediately."

you looked down on your lap. "... Okay."

"No, not 'okay'. Actually do it."

"I'll try," you said, smiling sweetly at him.

Sukuna rolled his eyes, though there's no heat in it. "Good enough."

his hand found yours on the center console. he didn't say anything else and just held it the rest of your drive home.

© mochaization 2026. DO NOT copy, reconstruct, reupload on any other platform, or feed my works to AI.

[marip0saaaa]

imagines:

jason todd being a velcro boyfriend. You wake up from your long nap and stretch till you feel a weird heavy weight on top of you under your blanket. You were still groggy and slightly panic out of confusion. You lift up your comforter and see Jason is resting on your pelvis as he doomscrolls on tiktok. You can hear the stupid memes he swears aren’t funny from his phone. He looks up and his scarred lips softly grins.

“G’mornin, sleeping beauty! How’d you sleep?”

“How long have you been down there?” you chuckled, still holding up the blanket.

[Jason does not answer the question but flutters his eyes]

“So, are we grabbing food later? I was thinking sushi or something spicy-” His casual tone makes you giggle in amusement.

“Baby, how long?” You glance above the blanket and can clearly see the other half of jason sticking out of the blanket.

“Not long enough. What are you craving for dinner?”

“I just woke up, babe. Um, I don’t know.” You rubbed your eye.

“How’s some pho?” Jason’s green eyes smiled.

“That’s fine…”

“But how did you sneak in without waking me-“

Jason kissed your thigh and slowly pulls the blanket back down and turns back to his phone, opening up Yelp for a nearby restaurant.

[fireflyschiikawa]

heian!sukuna : only softens when he’s sleepy

you knew better than to expect surrender.

the king of curses rarely ever gave in, with his head held high and his chest taut with assertion there was simply no room for pliability.

for a gentle, softness.

not until the last ray of sunshine had long crept away from the shrine and creatures friend and foe alike had returned home to the sole respite of slumber.

it was only then, in the quiet of the night when the monster vanished.

leaving in his wake a gentle giant, one you’d come to love more if not equally than his usual harsh demeanor.

not with you, never harsh with you, but you saw it in others. the terror he evoked for them in comparison to his ability to mold to your wishes.

sukuna was not one to be soft, no, not until you were both in bed and you dared to leave his embrace.

awoken at midnight with your throat mysteriously parched, you hesitated before shifting in the brute’s grasp.

sukuna’s hands were grabbed onto your every part, two arms around your waist and one behind your head the other lay lazily on your thigh.

were any servant to walk in, (impossible, lest they wished to keep their heads) the possessiveness in his grasp on you would be unmistakable to read.

you placed both hands over his, barely covering any surface area due to the his sheer size, and tried to push.

the foundation was solid, you were locked in lovable shackles.

you peeped a look back over your shoulder, his crimson hair tickled your neck and his sets of eyes crinkled under your motion, then relaxed.

maybe even in his sleep, sukuna knew you would not be able to get away.

he made sure of that.

“sukuna..” you whispered slowly enunciating his name.

no response, but the grip on your waist loosened.

huh.

you moved finally to sit up. you reached out to the cup of water placed conveniently near your bed and took hasty sips. the cold water was an antidote for your thirst and surprisingly refreshing for the mind.

with a newfound wakefulness you braced to stand up only for an inked hand to grip your thigh, although not intended to be very strong, and halt your motion.

you looked back and the sight devastated you.

there he was, sukuna, your lover, your wedded lord, with his eyes open blearily heavily intoxicated from sleep and a look almost pleading for you to stop.

he whispered your name, his voice coming out rough around the edges and his grip tightened on your thigh, engulfing it entirely.

“what is it” you whispered back wrinkling your nose with a soft smile painted on your lips.

sukuna silently observed you, taking in everything: your slippers half-hazardly covering your feet, your night gown sliding off your shoulder, your hair a little messy and those eyes, your pretty twinkling eyes.

sukuna’s heart pinched.

heaven’s there had to be a limit to the ever encompassing love he had for his wife, it was simply unfair.

you cupped a hand on the side of your lips before saying “i’ll be back..”

sukuna watched in dismay as you again attempted to get away from him.

before you could even get a step out you were being pulled back by a force much, much stronger than you.

you tut disapprovingly, brushing him off with a light tap.

“it’ll take a minute”

sukuna hugged your back, shaking his head no and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. as much as his 7 foot frame could.

energized by his playful demeanor you harnessed your own, twisting in his grasp you face towards him and cup his face.

“sukuna” you say and he grumbles your name back at you.

“you won’t even know i’m gone”

and without pause,

“i will”

you hold back your giggle opting for a neutral expression.

“my lord, you’re being rather dependent on your poor wife”

“if that is what the situation demands, then so be it” sukuna rolls over, grunting from the movement and pulls you on top of him.

you pushed up at his chest, now with an apparent upper hand ready to appeal for your freedom.

sukuna’s hands rested on your lower back his thumb rubbing into the dip at your hip, eyes barely cracked open.

you brought your fingers up and rubbed his jaw absentmindedly, “i can’t sleep like this”

“why?”

“you haven’t shaved, your face is much too prickly” you teased.

and then ofcourse sukuna proceeded to rub his face against your cheek making you burst into a fit of giggles.

“stop!” you squealed.

you breathed hard, grinning down at your husband, “let me go”

“not in a million years”

you huffed, a stray piece of your hair flying up, the motions the brute had engaged you in making you dreary.

“alright” you fake yawned, “i surrender”

sukuna’s taut shoulders finally melted, the bed creaking under his weight as he let himself loose.

that’s when you cracked your eye open and in a blur of movements you were up and out of his hands. especially the one that almost grabbed onto your ankle.

almost.

you looked at him across the room, waving a finger at his loss.

and lost he was, sukuna with his defined chest highlighted by the moonlight and hair sprung in an unruly sort of direction.

like sweet temptation.

his lower hand motioned you to come closer.

you knew better.

but you stepped into his trap anyway.

firefly; computah! open tumblr right before a career defining exam, lets post a fic.

[beebymoonlight]

baby mine — ghost x f!reader

when your stupid ex boyfriend kicks you out of the flat, he forgets to give you your cat back. you find the meanest looking guy in the bar to help you get her back.

type: one-shot (3.4k), ao3

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, graphic depictions of violence, smut, unprotected piv, cumplay, oral, simon is not a good or nice person (except to reader), reader also maybe isn't a good person who knows, reader has hair long enough to hold, curvy/plus-sized!reader, size difference, size kink, military inaccuracies, 18+

There is a special place in hell for men like Michael.

You can see her through the window by the door. Her big eyes are looking at where you are, paws against the glass. Her mouth opens, and she scratches at the window, and your bottom lip trembles as you set your hand down where she touches.

You could care less about the things you left inside. Your clothes, your bags, your shoes, even your fucking computer can stay behind, but not her. Your tabby cat is inside, sitting by the window, and Michael changed the fucking locks.

You bang on the door for an hour. You leave, come back, keep banging, but no one ever answers. You've never felt this desperate or uneasy, but every time you come back and see her by the window, you nearly lose all of your composure. It isn't fair. She doesn't belong to him. He can take years from you, take your money, take your sanity, but he won't take her. You'll come back every single day. You'll become a nuisance. You'll never let him relax. Until he gives her back to you, he will never know peace.

A single day passes before you decide it's time to take drastic measures.

The nearest military base is situated a good distance away, but not so far that you won't drive to its neighboring city. There's a small main road with a few local shops, including a few restaurants, a bookstore, a coffee shop, and the crown jewel—a pub.

It's just after supper time when you ring the bell above the door walking inside. On a Friday evening, it's lively, packed close with warmth and tall pints and plastic baskets full of chips and greasy fingerfoods.

There's a lot of military around here. You can tell by their haircuts and the way they chug their glasses; but you aren't looking for baby-faced rookies with too much pent-up aggression. You're looking for the meanest guy in the room, and that means someone with scars and someone who goes cloudy behind the eyes when you ask him how he's gotten back from where he's been.

That man is sitting at the far booth with his back to the wall. A place where he can have an eye on the rest of the room at all times. Big, gloved hand wrapped around a sweating glass, gaze focused on the foam of his beer as he pretends to listen to whatever the red-cheeked man across from him is laughing about.

You ask the bartender what they're drinking and order another round, picking up each glass and making your way towards their table. You'd be nervous if you weren't so determined. You stand awkwardly beside the table before his friend notices you there.

"Tha' fer us, bonnie?"

He juts his chin out at the drinks you're holding, and you set them down with a nervous smile.

"Yeah," you look between them. You fixate on the big guy, who barely squints at you over his drink, and you bite your lip. "I was hoping you had room for one more."

His friend cackles, "aye. Always fer a pretty face."

"Cute," you swallow. "But…I wasn't really talking to you."

The bigger one sits up at that. He leans back in the booth, rolling out his shoulders, and you hop up onto the seat next to him. His friend seems to get the message, picking up his new drink and tipping it towards you before taking a long drink of it and going to find a warm spot at the bar.

"Lookin' for advice or a fuck?"

"Neither," you say softly. "You're big, yeah? Are people…generally afraid of you?"

He laughs, and when he wipes at his masked face, you see a glimpse of a tattoo sleeve that adorns his massive left arm.

"Suppose."

"Great. How much for you to be my bodyguard for a few hours?"

He kisses his teeth under the mask, and then he turns his head to look down at you. His eyes are half-lidded, the skin looking a little greasy under the eye-black smudged there, but he's so calm and collected and amused. You've amused him; you're entertaining him. It's the most interesting thing that's happened to him all week, and you hope you're keeping his attention.

"Wot's tha' include?"

"It's gonna be illegal," you mumble, biting your bottom lip. "Just a little bit."

"Tha's my specialty, love."

"Not murder," you clarify, and he just shrugs. "Just…a little breaking and entering. Maybe some intimidation."

"'s Friday night, swee'eart, at least offer me somethin' fun."

"This isn't funny," you suck in a shaky breath. "It's…" You look down at the sticky pub table, swallowing again. You dig your nails into your own legs to keep your composure. "I need to get something back. Something that belongs to me. So it's not really…it's not really stealing."

A pregnant silence falls between you. You fail to keep the tears at your lash line back, and you quickly use the back of your hand to wipe your face gently. You think about your cat scratching for you on the other side of the window. You think about her sweet face; you think about Michael forgetting to feed her in the mornings as he usually did, and how he never changed the water filter in time even when you asked him to.

"'m Simon."

The low timbered voice breaks you out of your inner spiral. You look up at him again, and when you meet his eyes, you're finally able to let out a breath of relief. You don't know why, but there's something extremely soothing about sitting next to him. About being in his vicinity. He's so large and takes up so much space, but it's warm there, and he's not as mean as his outer layer might suggest. He's calm, and the way he presents himself tells you that it is not by luck that he's still sitting beside you.

You tell him your name, and his gloved hand touches under your chin.

"Olright, love. Lead the way."

Every time you have ever come back to this apartment, you have met the closed door with dread. A little fear. You feel none of that; not with the apparition at your back. You knock on the window beside the door, and like always, she appears. She meows on the other side, her eyes wet as she scratches and sniffs. You look over your shoulder at Simon who tilts his head to the side.

"This wot he stole?"

You look back at her on the other side of the window, shrugging.

"No," you say softly. "But it's all that matters."

The jiggling of metal brings your attention back to him. Simon is at the door, a multi-tool in one hand, and he's focused intently on working the doorknob until you hear the sound of a lock turn and then the door opens. The chain on the door jangles just as Simon opens it slightly, and you watch with rapt attention as he sticks his arm inside for just a few seconds, and then he swings the door open wide.

You push past him, reaching for the cat. She meows loudly, coming right to you, and you coo as you bend and pick her up from the floor. Loud purrs and sweet chirps follow as you hug her to your chest. You pet her little head, turning towards the living room. You used to keep her carrier behind the couch, and you find it as you go searching for it, exactly where you left it. You slip her inside and zip it up.

"What the fuck is this?"

You freeze, standing up straight and turning. You're caught, definitely—you knew he must have been home by the fact that the chain was latched, but you tried the nice way. You weren't going to get your cat back by being patient, not anymore.

"I'm just getting her, I'll…I was just leaving."

"Fuck no, you broke into my flat."

"Our flat," you snap back, putting the straps of the carrier over your shoulder. "And I'm leaving."

Michael looks like he's going to take a step towards you, but then he notices the dark shape in the corner of the room. He frowns a little, squinting.

"Who the bloody hell is that?"

You turn just in time to see Simon take a small step forward. The sudden movement seems to terrify Michael; he scrambles backwards into the kitchen counter, making the plates behind him fall off the counter and shatter onto the ground. He nearly trips over himself trying to get distance, and Simon seems to think it's very funny. He laughs, chest heaving, and he looks down at you as he gets closer.

"Flopping like a fuckin' fish, he is, in'he?"

Michael looks around frantically before he finds a pair of prongs. His hand shakes as he holds the pointy end towards Simon, spitting at him.

"Get the fuck out of my flat! T-The both of you!"

Simon's reaction tells you that maybe he has a few wires crossed in his head. He steps forward instead of away, laughing still, and you watch warily as he tilts his head to the side and nods his head towards Michael.

"Go on, then, mate," Simon taunts. "Try it."

Like a fool, Michael obliges. You flinch when Michael swings, but Simon tilts his body at just the right moment to dodge. He smacks Michael's arm, but he tries again—and like playing footie with a child, the weapon is now in Simon's hand, and then oh—

Michael's screaming as it pierces through his open palm.

He bleeds a lot less than you thought he might. Sadly, also, his blood is as red as yours. You thought he might be a little less pathetic at a moment like this. It is a gift, however, to see him bursting into tears as Simon grips the collar of his shirt and leans over him.

"Lot like you like to take things that aren't yers, tha' right?" Simon spits. "Like to punish and intimidate and fuckin' take, even if ya aren't owed."

"Please—please just get out, take her, fuckin' please!"

"Oi, wot's all this?" Simon snorts. "Now yer pissin' where you stand cause it got too real, eh? Got wot was comin' ta you? Reckon it's not like you thought. Reckon you thought she'd come hat in hand, beggin' for wot she deserves, but you wouldn't know good cunt even if it sat on yer face, yeah?"

"Please…"

"Simon—" You try, but he tsks, shaking his head.

"Nah, love, he's gonna learn," Simon murmurs. "Have you learned?"

"Yes," Michael squeaks, and you're not longer staring at the blood dripping on the hardwood, you're oogling at the giant man standing in what once was your kitchen that's starting to look more delicious by the second.

"Good," Simon breathes. "I know where ya lay yer head, mate. Know where ta come back if things aren't quiet on her end. You'd do well to remember tha'."

He releases Michael with a shove; Michael sinks to the floor, hands trembling, and Simon makes his way towards you to put a hand to your back and turn you around towards the front door.

"Need anythin' else?" Simon asks. You're too speechless to say anything, so all you do is shake your head. You clutch the carrier closer; she meows from inside the bag, and Simon nods his head towards outside so that you start moving. The door shuts behind you both, and then you're being led to his truck, ushered into the passenger seat, precious cargo on your lap as you breathe a huge sigh of relief.

The drive is quiet, but a comfortable quiet. You don't realize until a few streets over that you're smiling; a big, sparkling grin that's taking over your face, and when Simon rolls his truck to a stop at a red light, you lean over the center console and give his masked cheek a big, wet kiss of gratitude.

"Got a death wish or somethin'?" Simon turns to look at you, glaring from under the mask. It's so hard to be scared of him. He just put the fear of God into your terrible ex-boyfriend so you could get your precious cat back; he scared him shitless—literally—and he did it looking this good.

"Is that what a kiss gets me?" You ask. You slide your hand down his bicep, swallowing the drool when you feel just how solid and beefy he is under that hoodie. He fills it out too well. He must be so fucking handsome under that mask; there's no way he wears it for anonymity, he must be so hot, he wears it so he doesn't have to swat away all the boys and girls when they usually buzz around him like moths to light—

Maybe death is really this sweet. This good. Your cat is snoozing, safe and sound, in your bedroom with a full belly. The lights are on low; soft orange glows from well-placed lamps, giving the entire living room a warm feeling. There's a man on your couch with his belt unbuckled, mask halfway up his face as he pants because his cock is in your mouth, and he tastes like sweet, sweet victory.

"Ahh—fuck."

You nuzzle your nose up the length. He's so hard; you don't think a man has ever been this hard for you. He's leaking so pretty, dribbles down the length that you catch with the tip of your tongue, forcing him to hiss and spit and bite his knuckles. He keeps his hips still, but his hand around your hip squeezes the flesh there nice and tight, borderline bruising when you suck his tip a little too softly. You lick a stripe around the head before leaning back up towards him, and his hand around your hip curls against the back of your neck as you share a messy, wet kiss.

You twist your wrist, pumping his cock with a gentle glide of your palm, and he grits his teeth between kisses, touching his forehead to yours.

"Oll tha' for a cat, yeah?"

It is true. You did do it for her. But you did it for you, too.

"Not just the cat," you whisper, smoothing your thumb along the tip. He kisses you again, slower this time, and you groan into his mouth as you squeeze your thighs together. "Look at you…"

"Fuck—" Simon grunts, and his other hand finds the base of his cock, squeezing hard, and you giggle as he scrunches his nose. "Don't say shit like tha'."

You can't with his mouth on your cunt. He's laying flat on his back on the couch, legs too long to fit. Boots against your blanket, you'll whine to him about it later, but now both thighs are on either side of his head, and he's slurping with a hot tongue. You cup both sides of his head, dragging your hips, and while normally you'd think twice about dropping your weight on someone like this, the ease at which he hoisted you up his chest tells you Simon's a big, big boy—and he can handle whatever you give him.

"Gonna let me handle things from now on," Simon murmurs. He kisses the inside of your thigh, and you yelp when he smacks one side of your ass. He's waiting for an answer, and you took too long to give one.

"Y-Yeah," you breathe, leaning your head back. You feel yourself dripping between the legs, flooding his mouth, but he curls his tongue all the same. Uses two thumbs now as he hooks his arms around your thighs to pull the wet, sensitive skin back so he can drink what he's owed. He said he takes payment like this, getting his fill; he says he's never really satisfied until there's cum in his mouth and some in your cunt, and he's not gonna leave your flat before becoming familiar with those two, mutually non-exclusive events.

"Yeah, y'r pretty, olright," Simon laughs, but there's no more humor when he bounces you on his cock. Oh, he hurts a little. He told you he might, but then you're really there, knees on either side of him as you clutch onto the meat of his shoulders and hope to God he doesn't let you go. "Told you tha' you'd feel it, didn't I?"

"Yeah," you whisper, cupping that face of his, half-revealed to you, and you rub your thumbs down his scarred cheeks. Gorgeous, even with eyes that dead inside. "'s big."

"Don't—" He snarls, holding down your hips, shaking his head. "Wot did I say about sayin' shit like tha', eh?"

Life has spoiled you. Life is too good. Life is your pet curled up between your pillows and warm beneath the blankets, and life is fucking the sanity out of big, pudgy military men with blood under their fingernails and their breath stuck in their throat. You've rendered Simon to nothing but grunts and sputters. He's focused on keep the rhythm, arms clasped around your middle as he fucks up into you and pants into your neck. You reach for the back of the couch, digging your nails in, and all you can do is cry and take it as he keeps bringing you back down again and again and again.

The kiss you share is starved. You're so hungry, your hand slipping under the mask to cup the back of his head, and he draws your hips down and holds you there as he licks into your mouth and relishes in the pulsing of your cunt. This is what he fights for, maybe.

Not the glory. Not for the good of others. Not for Price and his self-guided moral compass, not for Laswell and her targets, not for revenge, not for blood, not to save the world. It's so he can come back here onto home soil and fuck a gorgeous girl without ever being interrupted by the sound of anything but her.

Her. You. Whatever she is, what you are, what you will eventually be—it manifests itself in the very room he's in, and he's got it between his teeth, and he won't be letting go for anything.

Nothing at all.

He's smoking a cigarette by the open window as she makes tea. He smiles, just barely, with teeth a little yellow when he sees you burn your hand a little as you pour the water into a misshapen mug.

"Olright?" He asks. The mugs shake a little as you bring them back into the room, precarious as you overfilled the mugs. He takes one from you and takes a long sip, flicking the cigarette out as he watches you get settled. You set your mug down on the coffee table, leaning forward to give him that same sweet, wet kiss on his cheek.

"Never better."

Belly full. Eyes bright. You are nothing like the woman that propositioned him just a few hours ago. A monotone, piss-drink evening, and then a scared, desperate girl asking him if he was willing to do something a little off the books.

Fucking finally. The world was just starting to get a little too dull.

It's the middle of the night when he hears the creak of a door. The sound of a little bell. You're laid out on your side, having just fallen asleep. The movie on the telly still plays, but Simon has turned the volume down. The light flickering from the screen is enough that he sees the cat trot into the room, eyes searching for you and seeing the two of you settled there.

She comes over slowly, sniffing the toes of Simon's boots, and then she closes her eyes as she rubs her face against his leg. Low purring, headbutts, and then she's putting a paw to his boot and looking up at him with the same big, wet eyes her mother has. Simon reaches down, scratching under her chin, and then she's curling up on his lap, little head next to yours as he leans back and takes it in. The sight for sore eyes. The thing that makes his medals and his stripes and all the money in the world look worthless—cheap.

"Yeah," Simon takes another sip of his tea. "This'll do."

[rawme-price]

Inspired by [this] lovely post by @on-a-lucky-tide

Thinking about ghost who, since you moved in together, has always had a preferred side of the bed.

He doesn't like sleeping next to the wall, as you've come to learn. The fist few nights he would grumble and push you further onto the bed before snuggling up to your back with a "my spot now, love. Comes with the relationship."

Not that you mind, of course. You like how it almost feels like he envelops you, tucked between the wall and simon.

It's not until you two stay at a hotel this unofficial rule you've decided ghost lives by is brought into question.

You don't think much of the bed being in the center of the space, it's a standard layout. So you pick a side arbitrarily, exhausted and wanted to pass out. Only to peek your eye's open to ghost looming over you, frowning "yer in the wrong spot. I go there."

Which....makes no sense. There's no wall, no nice space to hide in. The thought ghost had a designated place without the presence of a wall makes you question the entire rule itself!

Every place after that, you start taking greater note, until it huts you.

Ghost always sleeps on the side closest to the door.

In fact....ghost is always closest to the door. Manhandling you into a different seat at restaurants, or climbing over you on the sofa to claim "his spot".

A physical barrier between you and the entrance.

Ghost has been protecting you this whole time without you even realizing. He's been enveloping you in his form of safety. If someone were to enter with bad intentions, they'd reach him before you.

Ghost huffs in confusion when you cuddle him much tighter than usual that night, but indulges either way. He's just happy to keep one of the few good things in his life safe.

[caoimhewritesfics]

When you were pregnant, Simon was so worried she would be huge like he was. He lived in terror that the birth would be horrendous for you. He felt so guilty, blaming himself for a scenario that he made up. The thought of doing anything to hurt you was torture for him.

But, when she came out, she was tiny. Little fingers and just over 5lbs. Simon had never held something so little. He could hardly even believe it when he took her into his arms for the first time. This tiny little thing was his and yours. Perfect and ridiculously miniature.

Her little fingers wrapped around his thumb as she makes little frustrated sounds. “Don’t think she’s a big fan o’ me, Lovie.” It comes out as a joke, but for him, it’s a half truth. One of his biggest fears coming out, trying its hardest to damper his mood.

“She’s just hungry, Si. She likes you plenty. She’s only about an hour old.” You smile tiredly as you look at your large husband cradling your impossibly tiny little girl.

Your daughter pulls his thumb forward, trying to nurse on him. “Ah wrong one, darling. You’ll need mummy for that.” He laughs. You swear if you didn’t know any better, you would think he was crying.

[levitonin]

Haven't you had enough of gojo satoru ?

[sugurusbadhabit]

mdni 18+

The first time you fuck Satoru real good, he rolls over after and buries his face between your breasts, head still light and spinning in his post-orgasmic haze. He mumbles something nearly unintelligible into your skin that sounds a lot like, "Love you, mommy."

His cheeks burn as the realization of what's just slipped from his mouth sobers him up, getting ready to deny, deny, deny. He buries deeper into your chest, embarrassment flooding his veins. You're going to make fun of him, he's sure of it.

Instead, you tuck your chin to your chest and press a kiss to the top of his head.

"Love you, too, Toru," you whisper softly.

He risks a glance up up at you to find you already gazing at him, hearts in your eyes. His blush deepens as he looks away, your immediate acceptance heating him from the inside out. He lets himself settle back into the comfort of your body, baby blues slipping shut as he places kisses to your sternum.

[satorus-princess]

flight attendant!satoru who is so utterly whipped for you the moment he sees you, he'd end up delaying the service when they're supposed to be going down the aisles and serving drinks, just because he doesn't want you to leave his view nor stop talking to you.

and by the third time they pass by, satoru's throwing a cheesy "what a coincidence - we meet again," passing you a charming smile and resting his arm on the back of your seat like he doesn't have a job to do.

he also gives you an extra dessert but in the middle of charming you with his devilishly handsome looks and smooth pick up lines (his own words), a lady sitting in the row next to yours clears her throat.

"excuse me, i had requested a vegetarian meal from the airline but i was given--"

and you haven't seen anyone eye someone down in such a judgemental manner the way satoru eyed the lady for interrupting him.

"i'm in the middle of talking to a beautiful woman. i think we know what's more important here."

he flutters his eyelashes purposefully, tilting his head towards her. the woman was enchanted despite his sass. those baby blues cradled by snow always had him getting his way.

"anyway, as i was saying."

(the woman received her correct meal long after).

[melancholiclace]

you're crying after a guy bothers you... and your boyfriend isn't about to let it slide.

bleehhh can't sleep and i made up this scenario w fratkuna sooooooooocontains college au frat!ryomen sukuna x midsize!fem!reader; themes of harrassment (the culprit is naoya bc i saw his ass in the manga😐), ryo is like ur knight but not in the toxic alpha male way ew & he punches a guy, & i'm using the hcs that toji, choso, & geto are all in a frat with him + the gojo twins are present (honorable mentions for twins satoshi "fratjo" gojo and satoru nerdjo🫶) and everyone goes to 'tokyo college of jujutsu tech', and dw it turns into fluff n comfort—btw this is noooottt proofread

"girl, you're really cute."

another nervous giggle, playing with a lock of your hair. jesus christ, you just wanted to get out of that fucking western poetry class.

you'd only taken the class because you needed a humanities elective, and it had looked interesting! unfortunately for you, though, every guy who thought they were a major philosopher and the next unbiological love child of nietzsche had also taken the class! and sadly, you had caught the attention of one of those guys—naoya zenin, one of the dean's relatives.

he was toji's cousin, you knew, and toji was your boyfriend's frat brother... so maybe you were fine? you tried to convince yourself you were as you sped walked out the door, naoya hot on your trail with a sleazy grin and a mouth full of harrassment.

"where ya goin'? class just ended, sweetie."

"i can't stay," you said quickly, heeled boots clicking rapidly against the floor. you'd dress so cute that—polka-dot glasses, a pink off-the-shoulder sweater, black skirt, and knee-high boots that really captured the prime look of a college girl! and it was being wasted because this motherfucker was ogling you. "i have to go back to my dorm."

"why? need an escort?"

"no, i know the way."

"well, someone might hassle you."

"somebody already is hassling me."

"huh?" that made naoya pause—but only momentarily. once he realized what you meant, he fell back into step behind you, seeming even more determined than before. "got some bite on you. i like that. lot of women don't know when they should play it easy or hard to get—you do."

you hated when guys couldn't just take no for an answer the first time. because that meant you had to use the next excuse up your sleeve—

"my boyfriend wouldn't like that you're following me. i really can't stay and talk, and i'd like it if you would kindly leave me alone."

you said it as curtly and politely as you could, then, before the surprised naoya could reboot and say anything else, you bolted through the doors of the humanities hall and out into the spring day.

campus was lively in the afternoon. there was ultimate frisbee and football being played, groups of friends on picnic blankets talking and tanning, girls swirling their boba and iced coffee as they commuted from classes and dorms—and there was ryomen's and a handful of his frat sitting on benches in the quad, lounging after smoking.

well, choso and geto were still slightly buzzed. toji hadn't taken a pass, and it took more than a few puffs to get to ryomen.

"oh my god, i can't feel my tongue," choso muttered, rubbing his eyes. his black mullet was shaggy, messed up, and he smelled like he'd been waterboarded in geto's cologne to cover up the post-smell of weed.

geto, sitting wide and strumming his guitar absently, grinned lazily. "you're too easy, man. second-hand molly in the wind would get you fucked."

"nuh-uh."

"uh-huh."

"shut the fuck up," toji muttered, waving his hand dismissively as he rubbed his face with the other. "i still have a goddamn headache."

"not our fault you hit your head on a fucking table last night," ryomen laughed.

toji groaned, turning his head to look off into the distance. the activity on campus only worsened his pulsing skull. "swear to god, 'm concussed or something. shouldn't have on that chair when i was drunk."

"you should've came." choso tapped ryomen's knee. "where were you?"

"with his giiiirrrllll," geto teased.

"yeah, yeah." ryomen didn't care if everyone in all of fucking tokyo knew he was whipped—he was whipped for you, his sweet little girlfriend. "not my fault i wanna spend one night of the weekend watchin' pretty woman again instead of watching toji crack his head open."

like he was summoned by his name, toji started shaking ryomen's shoulder. "dude."

"one sec—" ryomen was about to say something else to choso, but toji wrenched his arm to the side. "what the fuck! what?"

"look where i'm fuckin' looking." toji pointed across the quad. "isn't that—"

"holy shit," geto said when he saw you briskly walking and crying, like you were trying to escape someone—you had been.

choso frowned when he followed everyone's line of sight. "is that your girlfriend? why is she crying?"

"i... gotta go." ryomen got up from the bench without another word and started across the quad. when he realized how fast you were walking, he thanked god that he was an athlete and started running after you. "hey!"

when you hear a male voice, you automatically moved quicker, expecting it to be naoya again—but then it repeated, and you recognized ryomen.

"baby? hey, slow the hell down!"

fuck. you didn't want him to see you crying. think, think, think—

but it was too late. ryomen had reached you, grabbed you by the shoulder, and turned you around in an instant. "shit, thought i was going to lose you. what's—"

you couldn't held but sob even harder when he began to ask you what was wrong, and ryomen gaped at your puffy, round face, smudged mascara, and the salty streams of tears down your cheeks.

"oh god, angel. what's wrong? c'mere, can i hold you?"

as expected, since he had the biggest soft spot and change of attitude when he was with you, ryomen engulfed you in the comforting embrace of his arms and let you bury your face and ruined makeup against his racing jacket.

"ok, ok," he whispered softly against your hair as he stroked it. "deep breaths. in and out, yeah? gotta calm down and take proper breaths. can i see your purse, please, hon? don'tcha keep tissues in there?"

"i—" you wheezed slightly, trying not to choke on tears or words. "i was gonna wait inside until i looked for 'em..."

"all right, well, i'm here now. let me see."

carefully, he slipped your purse off your shoulder, located the pack of tissues inside, then extracted one so that he could dab your face gently. "there we go. better, hm? keep breathing f'me, just like that, pretty girl."

when you had calmed down enough to not explosively weep again, ryomen caressed the side of your face and asked, "tell me what happened."

you crossed your arms, lips pursed in a pout. "no."

you knew what he would do if you told him that naoya zenin bothered you...

"what? fuck you mean—" he inhaled slowly, then tried again, softer. "angel, how can i help if i don't know what's wrong? or—how are you gonna feel better if you don't talk about what made you cry like that? i mean, you were going pretty fast in those heels, i imagine something happened."

after a pause, he hardened. "did someone fucking do something to you?"

"ryo—"

"nah, don't give me that soft stuff. tell me who and what."

"it wasn't anything serious!" you insisted, holding him tightly. "seriously."

"tell. me."

"promise me you won't be mad!"

"no."

"ryo!"

"was it a guy?" he brushed a few hairs out of your face, grimacing. "i'll beat the shit out of him if it was."

"it was a small incident. small, that's it."

"or was it a girl? 'cuz satoshi's brother satoru knows a girl named shoko in pre-med, she'll fight anyone—unless you don't care if i do it, because i'll hit anyone you ask, babe—"

"stop!" you shook him slightly. "a guy kept following me around and bothering me, i just wanted him to go away—and he did! he just... overwhelmed me. i was scared."

ryomen stared at you when you finished speaking. he blinked a few times and nodded slowly, tongue against the inside of his cheek. "ok. yeah, ok."

you frowned, watching as his face contorted. "what?"

"this happened just now?"

"um... like ten minutes ago."

"where?"

you picked at your nails, growing nervous. "...the humanities building."

he'd turned on his heel without a second thought, and you hurried after him, having known he probably would've gone off the moment you gave him all the details, like a bloodhound with a scent for prey.

"wait—ryo! it's not that big of a deal!"

"not that big of a deal my ass." he was practically snarling.

who you didn't expect to see soon after ryomen was on his war path was the culprit himself. naoya was crossing the pavement, staring at his phone—but when he saw the tattooed, six-foot-four jock headed his general direction, he couldn't help but freeze. you also stopping, surprised and wary, was a dead giveaway on who the guy ryomen was looking for was.

ryomen glanced between naoya and you, then pointed. "him?"

you slowly let go of his arm, knowing there was little you could do to help the situation or stop your boyfriend. "yeah..."

calmly—too fucking calmly—he continued down the sidewalk until he was a few yards from naoya, then he nodded once and said, "hey, man."

naoya, contemplating fight or flight, tried to remain casual and nodded back. "hey..."

"wanna ask you—you bother that girl over there earlier?" he jutted a thumb over his shoulder, at your nervous figure in the distance.

"i didn't bother her. i was just talking to her."

"in what way."

"huh?"

"In what way—because you sound like a really shitty guy to talk to if she walked away crying."

"not my fault she didn't—"

before naoya could finish casting off whatever blame onto you, ryomen winded back a tight fist and clocked him in the nose.

naoya yowled in pain the moment the fist connected with his face, and he recoiled, hands snapping up to cover his soon-to-bleed nose. "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"ryomen!" you cried from behind him.

across the quad, it seemed that the others ryomen were with before had witnessed everything.

"ry!" toji waved a relaxed arm, like he knew ryomen had everything handled but still wanted to be nice and extend an offer. "good?"

ryomen cracked his knuckles, then wrung out his pulsing hand. "yeah, he shouted back. "good."

"is she ok?" choso called over, pointing at you.

"i'll take care of her."

"'kay, i guess." geto watched the entire thing with a skeptical look. "see you later."

without exchanging any words, ryomen returned to you and carted you up to his dorm. he was glad that you didn't protest or refuse to go with him—he surely thought you were mad at him, until you whispered the soft "thank you" to him at his door. he simply kissed your head and pushed the door open.

in his dorm, he insisted you clean while he ordered food. lounging in his bed, shirtless now and just in a pair of sweatpants, he scrolled on his phone while resting a hand on you. you'd positioned yourself beside him after cleaning off your tear-streaked makeup and changing into one of his hoodies.

"sushi and boba, or thai?" ryomen asked, rubbing slow circles on your thighs. he loved to grip the plush there, to kiss up from your calf to the softness of your belly—he would later, but right then, he was focused on getting you fed and rested, the two things he thought key in recovering from bad days. "wait. chinese?"

you ran a hand through his hair and leaned over to peck his cheek. "anything."

"you always say that, baby."

"i know."

"ok. sushi and boba."

you smiled. "i trained you right."

taking a moment, ryomen dropped his phone and grabbed your jaw to bring you in for a full, proper kiss that lasted until you were both breathless. and when you pulled away only slightly, hovering closely above him, lips still brushing, he licked his lips and smiled. "you're ok, right? not mad?"

"no," you said, tilting your head slightly. "not mad. maybe a little annoyed that you always jump to violence, but... i really appreciate you wanting to protect me. i know you just want me to be all right in the end."

"damn right i do. i love you, gorgeous."

smiling, you kissed him once more. "i love you too, ryo. now order the food before the place closes."

send me asks <3

buy me a kofi

divider creds to @anitalenia check them out their work is so gorg!!!!

[gld3en]

emo/stoner!choso being clingy to his sweet girlfriend ⧽ collage au ! , sfw , Choso being touchy , he’s high , + note at the end ‹𝟹

before you noticed him, you felt a lot of weight pilled on top of you. his face smushed between your boobs, as his body completely collapsed on top of you, legs between yours.

“cho your heavy!!” you grunted looking down as you tossed your phone to the side.

he nuzzled deeper into your chest, as if he was trying to sink into your skin. “your so warm. and comfortable.” his voice muffled into your shirt. it was low and soft, laced with sleepiness.

your hand finds his hair like it’s second nature, slightly scratching while your other hand finds his waist, while your thumb rubs the skin there from his shirt slightly lifting.

he hummed at the feeling, his hands wrapping around you. this was his favorite thing to do. seeing you all comfortable in his bed, in nothing but his tshirt and just a pair of panties. it was all he needed after a long day. to be in your embrace.

you rested your head against his soft hair, as your hands wrapping around him. “your such a big baby.”

he lifted his head, pouting his lips. “your big baby?”

you couldn’t help but giggle, he was probably high since he was being very clingier than usual.

you peaked his lips. “yes my big baby.” he smiled like a fool, returning back to his favorite spot.

“I love you princess.” you could feel his lips slowly kissing your chest. returning the favor you kissed his head, another thing he loved. “I love you more cho.” his hands slid under your shirt, slightly grazing under your boobs. the touch wasn’t sexual, it was a way of grounding him.

a few minutes of the two of you laying there comfortably together, you started to hear soft snoring. looking down Choso was knocked out. his lips slightly parted, a little drool wetting your shirt. your heart squeezes from how cute he looked.

you couldn’t help but watched him for a minute. oh you were definitely gonna tease him about it.

slowly pulling his hair out his pigtails, you pushed his hair back from his face, putting it into one lose pony knowing he would start to get overwhelmed by his hair being up in the morning. carefully pulling the covers over him, you turned off the lamp on the nightstand.

“night my baby.” you kissed his head one more final time, his hand slightly squeezing your waist as if even your touches still affected him in his sleep.

you soon drifted off to sleep with you clingy boyfriend on top of you, with his weight, the warmness from his body, and just his presence himself made you feel safe. it grounded you as well.

truly there was no other place you would rather be.

make this my reality.. emo Choso u will always have my heart.. but my first little something since I have been reading so many Choso fics and I just love that man down bad. 🙈 if it’s bad I apologizeee I’m no pro at this.. just for funzies 🥹🤍

[bfbkg]

ALSO more about love island bkg maybe if you guys aren’t coupled up yet like maybe you’re a bombshell sleeping on your own for now and when all the guys are chatting together in the morning you practically skip over to them in your hat and sunglasses, teeeeeny tiny bikini and wedged flip flops.

all of the guys look over at you, some say hey and hello and their good mornings but you look directly at the massive muscled blonde with the pretty eyes and harsh glare. but it’s softened slightly now.

“i want to talk to you.” you say with a small smile. stern and confident. pretty and bakugou’s type.

bakugou points to himself, “me?”

clears his throat right after and sits up straighter from his awful slouch.

once your head moves an inch to nodding, he whips up so fast the rest of the guys start chuckling away.

“i’ve never seen him move so quick!”

“you pull a muscle there, kacchan?”

you’ve already started walking, assuming he’s following behind you and he is, not before giving the guys a middle finger.

he jogs up beside you, ignoring the chuckles in the distance. harsh sniff, scratches the back of his head and adjusts his sunglasses.

“y-you look gorgeous today. love the colour of the bikini.”

it’s when you smile up at him, hand up above your sunglasses to cover your eyes from the sun, that he falls apart.

“you do? i chose it with you in mind.”

bakugou’s swooning.