In Hindsight, Tetsurou Should Have Known This Was A Bad Idea—offering You The Spare Room In His Apartment

something about college bf ! kenma has me giggling n twirling my hair🤭

kenma that has his hair in a claw clip that you got him, now being a pro and twirling it into said clip

kenma that gives you a key to his apartment and isn’t surprised when he feels you behind him, hands on his shoulders as he works on another last minute assignment

kenma who holds your hands all the time, because “they’re really soft, i dunno, i just find them comforting”

kenma who’s known widely around campus as ‘that one box dyed quiet guy’ but to you, is your chaotic, beautiful boyfriend

kenma who stays up til odd hours with you, doing stupid things and screaming at eachother while you game

kenma who only laughs at your jokes because “we have the same humor , obviously. we’re just better than everyone else.”

kenma who refuses to give back anything you lend him. clothes, clips, books, pens, he keeps everything of yours. he also wears your clothes half the time to campus, but no one really knows that it’s yours. they just assume he has a very spontaneous dressing style.

kenma who cannot go a day without you scratching his under cut, running your nails over it and massaging all his worries away.

kenma who looks at you with heart eyes whenever you talk about your course, because “you just light up when you talk sometimes, it’s really cute to look at”

kenma who sends you the sweetest ‘hey, i know you’re asleep but..’ paragraphs at ungodly times, so you wake up happy

kenma who confessed by pulling up to your house with a boom box playing ‘pluto projector’ and waiting for you to let him in. he sat down on the couch and made you listen to him recall every moment that led up to him falling inlove with you.

“and then there was that time when you made me coffee when i was working, even though i told you to fuck off and..” he looks at you with shiny, gleaming eyes,” you sat on the floor next to me, and waited, and when i was done you said you were proud-,” he stops himself from raising his voice, hands finding your own as stray strands of bleach- blond hair fall into his eyes at the aggression of his movement,” i can’t remember the last time someone saw me, my work, my effort. they always thought i wasn’t trying or that i didn’t care to try but you, yn,” your best friend got close, so close that you couldn’t breathe, so close that if he was any closer - you think he’d kiss you,

kenma was breathless trying to explain- trying to get his point across as he continued,“you always saw me. who i am and who i’m not. and i realised that the reason you never got tired of me is because you couldn’t get enough of me and god,” a loud sigh left his lips as a wide smile etched across his face ,” i’ve never felt more wanted in my life. “

arrival

Sukuna Dyes His Hair

You were just teasing him.

"Pink like a petite little rose."

"Shut it."

They were just play-fighting words. Part of an attempt to poke the bear that never seemed to bite at you.

"Pink like a sweet strawberry."

"Strawberries are red."

Sukuna had had you in his lap, lazy with a long day of work weighing on his bones. He watched you dote on him with a tired smile, too exhausted to mind your fingers lovingly brushing at tufts of his hair. Usually he'd swat at a touch as careful as the one you were giving him, but there were moments, like this one, where he seemed to soak up your tenderness.

"Pink like a baby kitten's nose." You cooed.

"Jesus." He groaned, rolling his eyes. 

Maybe it was the ending boop to his own nose that made him finally snatch you up and tackle you to the mattress.

Maybe that's why one day later, you're staring at him standing outside of a restaurant, leaning against his motorcycle with stark black hair.

He's grinning at you, knowing that he's won the little game as he always does, with overkill.

It was a promised date night, one you had been planning for a few weeks now. Sukuna never had the same days off that you did, but the stars happened to align for you to go out to dinner together and you leapt at his invitation.

After he spots you from across the parking lot, Sukuna stubs his cigarette beneath his boot and starts over to you. You can tell in the way his eyes devilishly glimmer that he's excited to see your expression. 

You're in too much shock not to give him exactly what he wants.

"Hi~" He purrs when he nears you, reaching a hand out for one of your own. You offer it subconsciously, moving automatically since your brain seemed to be sputtering. His rings are cold against your fingers, but even their icy bite is not enough to stir you back to the present. He tugs you into his embrace, looping an arm around your lower waist and pressing you into him. He’s warm despite the chill on his fingertips. When he's got you secured to him, he tilts his head at you, waiting for your response.

"Hi." You whisper, blinking up at him.

You know he thinks you're going to hate it. You know he thinks you're going to give him a pout- tell him how heartbroken you are to see his natural hair go. That was undoubtedly the punchline of his stupid joke. You've told him numerous times how much you loved his hair and every part of him that made him Sukuna... So why is your mouth suddenly watering?

“What d'ya think?” He runs his fingers through it, showing it off to you as if your eyes aren’t already glued to the newly darkened locks. 

It suits him just as well as his natural hair color does, but the black brings out the deep, rich color of his eyes and makes prominent the tattoos framing his face. People always tell you that Sukuna’s stare intimidated them, and you never felt it yourself until then. 

You swallow past your heartbeat, which you can suddenly feel in your throat. Sukuna notices, and his mischievous grin turns wolfish.

"Oh, you like it. Don't you?" He murmurs. Reaching up, he presses your slightly agape mouth closed so that he can place a chaste kiss to your shell-shocked lips. The smell of tobacco and expensive cologne has you in an even more intoxicated daze, rendering you boneless in his hold. His next words are a heated whisper, for your ears only.

"I usually only manage to take the words out of your mouth when you're strapped to my bed. This gotcha that good, little doe?" 

Revived 🥲

tomura tries to sneak out of your apartment one morning before you wake up, because he has to get all the way back to his apartment before his dad shows up to take him to a 9AM yoga class.

god forbid he be forced to explain:

a) why he slept over at an apartment that was not his own to his father (toshinori would be calling wedding venues and asking his assistant to look into your ring size before they'd even made it to the yoga studio)

nor b) the fact that he was going to a fucking yoga class at 9 o'clock in god damn the morning with his dad, to you.

he slips out of your bed soundlessly, moving as carefully as possible not to wake you. it pains him to do it. really, it does. your sheets are warm, and soft, and smell like you. and you're still there resting so peacefully, tucked under them, breathing soundly with your face burrowed into the collar of his hoodie that you'd worn to bed the night before. you look so pretty like this, tomura had spent at least half an hour just staring at you while he was laying next to you in your treacherously comfortable bed, and would have happily spent another hour more doing it.

there are very few forces on earth that could tear tomura out of bed like this, but the mortifying prospect of having to explain to his over-enthusiastic father that he has a girlfriend is certainly one of them.

he creeps out of your room and into the bathroom, splashing some cool water on his face and using the lotion that you keep next to the sink that makes his skin feel so nice. you started buying a bigger bottle lately, now that the two of you are both using it, and you never mentioned it but tomura still noticed when the little tube was replaced by a larger version of the same product. next he reaches for the toothbrush that he's started keeping next to yours, double checking the hour on his phone to make sure he wasn't running out of time.

he contemplates stealing one last peek at you in bed before he leaves, but he knows that if he doesn't leave now he won't have time to change his clothes before his dad shows up outside his place, so he heads straight to your front door once he's done in the washroom.

you're standing in his path before he can get to it.

you've got a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, but he can still see the soft skin of your thighs where the hem of his hoodie hangs peeking out from underneath the edges of it. there's a little frown tugging the corners of your mouth down.

tomura freezes in his tracks.

"going somewhere?" you ask him, your voice quiet and a little bit hoarse from sleep.

oh, fuck.

"morning," he mumbles, a bit nervously, as you pin him in your stare.

"it is," you reply, as though agreeing with him. "early, even. so why are you sneaking out of my apartment like a burglar?"

tomura rakes a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. "i, uh, gotta be somewhere."

"you have to be somewhere?" you repeat, a bit incredulously—like the words don't quite compute. you don't seem mad at all, just thoroughly bewildered by the whole strange situation. "tomu, we went three rounds last night and you're awake before two PM on a weekend. are you okay?"

"'course i'm okay," he rushes to get out, tripping over his words.

"did I like... do something? or is there someone el—"

"are you kidding?" tomura's voice cracks and he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. he reaches out and grabs the edge of the blanket you have wrapped around you, his fingers twisting into it desperately. he knows you can't possibly—can't reasonably—think that he's seeing anybody else when the fact that he even landed someone like you is an honest to god miracle. the kind of underdog success story they make multi-part docuseries on.

tomura groans, shuffling forward and resting his forehead against your shoulder as he snakes his arms underneath the blanket around your frame to hold you close.

"you're being weird, tomu," you say quietly, brushing your fingers through his hair and letting your nails drag lightly against his scalp in that way that makes him want to shiver.

"fuck, I know, I know,"—he buries his face further into the crook of your neck, breathing in shakily—"'m not being sketchy or anything."

"you are," you remark lightly. "it's not that I don't trust you, I'm just confused."

tomura mumbles something, but the words are lost to the skin of your throat.

"what was that?" you ask.

tomura steels his nerve and takes one last long breath buried against your warmth. he pulls away and faces you.

"I have to go to a yoga class with my dad."

he loses his nerve about halfway through his admission, his eyes flickering away from yours to a point on the wall just above your front door, as a violent heat surges through his cheeks.

"a yoga class?"

he knows it sounds ridiculous. it is ridiculous. it may have been more believable to tell you he was going to hook up with someone el—

"why didn't you just say that?" your laughter cuts through his spiralling thoughts like a morning alarm.

his gaze snaps back to you, only to find you smiling softly.

"you... you're not...?" tomura isn't even sure what he's going to say. mad? surprised? convinced he's lying?

"i mean, i've noticed you've been looking kind of toned lately, but honestly i thought it's because we've been fucking so much," you scrunch your nose up a little. "yoga makes sense on both counts, though."

you turn and look across your apartment to the clock hanging on the wall.

"what time's your class?" you ask him, suddenly worried that this impromptu interrogation may have made him late. "i didn't mean to—"

tomura grabs either side of the blanket wrapped around your shoulders and tugs you forward, pressing his mouth to yours while your lips are still parted in speech.

(he doesn't make it to class that morning after all.)

rintarou suna who will sit for hours just barely letting his fingertips/tongue graze against your clit until your thighs are shaking and clenched around his head, begging him to do the job and just eat you out.

rintarou suna who waits til you’re crying and begging for his touch to finally ravage you like a starved man, thrusting his fingers and pistoning his tongue inside of you over and over, and when you beg him to stop and say it’s too much, he’ll say, “cmon baby, if you want me to stop you say red, you know that. whining isn’t gonna cut it, princess,” before diving back in for dessert.

something something katsuki can't keep his hands off you when he's had a little too much to drink (see: denks the worst at-home bartender in the world, believes a shot of vodka really means four).

it starts off innocently enough, gathered in eijiro's living room, when he cracks a foul-mouthed joke and you double over into side with laughter. the heat starts to creep up his neck, but it's easy to blame it on the alcohol. he nudges you back playfully, a grin quirking at the corner of his lips.

two more shots of whatever vile concoction denki mixed up and he's melting into the couch. he's sitting on one end, a little squished with how mina, eijiro, hanta, and denki are piled on top of each other - chatting away, drinking, and desperately trying not to make eye contact with the wasted blond. katsuki's got you perched all pretty in his lap because "there isn't any room left to sit." a convenient excuse.

you're flushed and trying to keep up with mina's story and you're having a great time with your friends but katsuki's hands are looping casually around your waist and pulling you closer to him and he's leaning a little on you for support and you feel a zing speed down your spine as his lips brush against your arm. an accident.

his head's a little fuzzy, but katsuki's practically melting with the alcohol swimming through his veins. and you're so soft it's making everything even fuzzier. before he even finishes that thought he's testing out the plush of your waist, your thighs, pinching a little at the small of your back, and back down to your thighs. you squirm in his hold, and he retaliates with a soft grunt and by biting what he could reach.

the spit on your arm is more uncomfortable than the rather tame bite he gives you. you can see his eyes wobble, flitting to different parts of your face. "hol' s'till," he garbles and your heart leaps into your throat. you can feel four sets of eyes boring into you both, but you can't break away from katsuki's heavy, lidded, lovesick gaze.

NOW PRESENTING… POPSTAR!GOJO the series.

DO YOU WANT LOVE OR YOU WANT FAME? ARE YOU IN THE GAME?

now who told you sleeping with your client of a popstar, the gojo satoru was a good idea? but there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun when the cameras aren’t rolling. after all, what happens in vegas stays in vegas.

beware. this contains nsfw. intended for audiences eighteen & up! popstar! gojo/modern au, fem! reader, unprotected s*x, exhibitionism, angst, love triangle (lol) and more !! some plots may change. can be read as standalones….or not! not in order

note. hi thank u smm for 6.6k that’s insane!! this is my first (mini) series so it’ll be semi slow updates. inspired off gaga’s 'THE FAME' album. enjoy the show!

DID U HEAR? TORU’S GOIN’ ON WORLD TOUR. SEE WHERE HE’S SHOWIN’ NEAR YOU…

AUSTIN, TX. (7:00 PM) 15 SECONDS OF FAME.

fucking your client wasn’t on your bucket list. the famous popstar 'toru' says he can’t perform because of issues he’s having with his voice. but he finds another way to warm up his vocal cords—it involves being between your legs. 4.2k wc

LOS ANGELES, CA. (6:10 PM) POKERFACE.

gojo gets nominated for his fifth grammy. you being his special plus one, he takes you—yet right before he’s prompted to go on stage, he gets a…boner. 5.0k wc

PHILADELPHIA, PA. (6:30 PM) BAD ROMANCE.

being sandwiched between a popstar and geto, his bassist best friend was almost like a fever dream. what happens when they start fighting over who can make you moan the highest note? sharing is caring right? 5.8k wc

MANHATTAN, NY. (7:15 PM) ALEJANDRO.

after an argument regarding gojo’s career, you two take a break and it hurts. you aren’t together, so why should you care? maybe the fame is getting to gojo’s head after all. because you see him get a new assistant the very next day.

LAS VEGAS, NV. (6:40 PM) CLOSING….

JUST DANCE.

under rehearsal, coming soon…

© all rights reserved to SCREAMPIED 2024. do not copy or plagiarize. also lmao i dont own the song choices at all so lady gaga pls don’t sue me (i love you queen!)

When you you you when you when when wheeeeen when when you wHEEEEEN

BAKUGOU BARBARIAN-VERSE | MASTERLIST

tags/warnings: fantasy au, aged up characters, sfw, accidental marriage, part i is gender neutral but reader has fem pronouns in later parts

PART I (1.3K)

On a cold, windy night, barbarian Bakugou warms you up. Things get complicated from there.

PART II (1K)

Your traveling party visits a village where you accidentally trigger an ancient marriage custom. Now, aspiring suitors will fight for the promise of your hand in marriage, and you're not liking how many unknown villagers seem interested. You're just hoping you can figure out a way to sneak out of the village before the tournament wraps up—except, wait, why is Bakugou striding into the ring...?

PART III (0.5K)

You learn something unexpected about your barbarian sort-of husband.

PART IV (coming soon!)

Bakugou learns something unexpected about you, and quickly becomes far too smug about it.

PART V (coming soon!)

After all these months, you wonder what Bakugou's true feelings for you are and whether your marriage is legitimate in the custom of his people. You try to find out what his plans are for the conclusion of your adventure. A small gesture from Bakugou clarifies his feelings.

drabbles will be posted under the tag #bakugou barbarian verse