takasugi’s left eye

ଳ WHO AM I? blusie, 22, she/her, infj—your favorite virgo (ᴗ_ ᴗ。)

╭──────────.★..─╮ a sucker for tragedy and angst but a slut for 2D characters with mental illness ;; i want to make you sad with me ;) ╰─..★.

my hero academia

ꜱʜᴏᴛᴏ ᴛᴏᴅᴏʀᴏᴋɪ ⨾ 轟 焦凍

he’s bad at love

ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ ⨾ 爆豪 勝己

time is cruel, but fate is crueler

ᴛᴏᴍᴜʀᴀ ꜱʜɪɢᴀʀᴀᴋɪ ⨾ 死柄木 弔

the creature that own the night like day

kaiju no.8

ꜱᴏꜱʜɪʀᴏ ʜᴏꜱʜɪɴᴀ ⨾ 星野 宗四郎

when he's jealous headcanons

their favorite parts of your body & position headcanons mdni ⚠︎

i would cut my own hands off before touching you

you were the test, given by the gods to prove that i, too, am human pt. I

you were the test, given by the gods to prove that i, too, am human pt. II

ɢᴇɴ ɴᴀʀᴜᴍɪ​ ⨾ 鳴海弦

their favorite parts of your body & position headcanons mdni ⚠︎

when he's jealous headcanons

ʀᴇɴᴏ ɪᴄʜɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ ⨾ 市川レノ

their favorite parts of your body & position headcanons mdni ⚠︎

ᴋᴀꜰᴋᴀ ʜɪʙɪɴᴏ ⨾ 日比野カフカ

their favorite parts of your body & position headcanons mdni ⚠︎

sakamoto days

ʏᴏɪᴄʜɪ ɴᴀɢᴜᴍᴏ ⨾ 南雲 与市

dating him

@myblusie

please do not copy my work or post it on different platforms! reblogs are fine, but plagiarism isn't.

it's finally winter break so i have more time to write now. also, thank you 100+ followers! i love you guys much!!! ♡

also, also, who do you guys wanna read about next?

edit: it’s supposed to be ff not “gc” & i can’t change it anymore 😭 (sorry if you thought it was a smau)

dating yoichi nagumo

warning: contains some nsfw content

Loyal to the bone, for instance, when he's on a mission, and the target is a woman, he'd be like, "sorry, but if you touch me, my girlfriend would be upset," and he wouldn't even lay a finger on the body, making sure its only his weapon that touches her. However, in the chance that the woman manages to throw a striking punch at him, he'd throw that piece of clothing away, saying that the energy of the clothing is off.

Would call you in the middle of a fight asking, "hey, babe, how ya' feeling today? one? maybe six?" asking you to rate your day so far, and depending on your rating, "my girlfriend isn't feeling so well today," and choose his weapon based on your mood rating of 1-6.

Yes, each weapon is numbered according to the rating of your mood, although you don't know this yet.

When you're talking to someone for too long and he wants attention, he'd walk up to you and wrap his arms around you from behind, "my turn," and steal you away even though you're in the middle of a conversation.

Staring at you is his hobby. You're cooking? He's sitting at the dining area with his head resting on the table, a lollipop in his mouth as his eyes follow your every move.

Comes home with odd gifts for you. One evening, he gave you a pack of new reusable straws because they reminded you of him (you started making your own coffee at home). On another day, it's a notebook in your favorite color, or that one time he bought you a book on how to start sewing because you got into reading (it's the thought that counts).

Dates?

"This is where i kill so and so," and take you on a tour around the building or places of his most recent mission as though he were a tour guide, and you, a fellow tourist.

When he wakes up next to you and he has a morning wood, he'd purposely touch you in ways that would stir you awake, and then cheekily say, "ah, you caught me," then proceed to kiss you, since sex is better when you're begging him to make you cum with your needy, pretty eyes.

He's need to relief himself? He doesn't bother with carrying you the proper way and making it romantic by carrying you bridal style; he slouches you over his shoulder in one swoop, your ass near his face, before he spanks your ass and walks you to the bedroom, throwing you on the bed and him hovering over you in seconds.

ଳ content: when the formidable vice-captain of the third division finds himself falling for a fellow officer, will he fight against it or accept it

ଳ paring: soshiro hoshina x f!reader

part I

⋮ ⌗ ┆to my lovelies who's been waiting for pt. II it is finally here! so glad that you all enjoyed the first one so much -`♡´-

You don't understand it.

No matter how many times you thought about it or how many conclusions you drew, something was wrong. Terribly wrong that when you're not distracted or being yelled at by your platoon leader, your gut is twisting without rest.

You couldn't help but think of a certain man with a bowl cut, the one who didn't fear death and fought with katanas. The one man you shouldn't be thinking about, and yet, his face was the only thing your mind wanted to remember.

And no matter how many times you've told yourself not to dwell on him, your mind has never been good at listening. It did whatever it wanted, and you were the victim left to fend for your heart.

For that reason, you often thought about it.

Was it love, you'd asked yourself.

But it couldn't be. That would be impossible.

Perhaps you just happened to cherish your friendships a little too much, especially this one. And maybe that was the reason why you noticed the change.

The way your friendship had turned sour. The way your connection with him had faltered. And though you don't know when the first crack had appeared or how it spread so fast, you knew one thing.

Something between you and Soshiro had fractured.

You felt it in your bones, borrowing so deeply that you were certain, you weren't even you anymore, and you didn't need any words to confirm it. The distance he had put between the two of you was enough for you to realize that something was amiss. Especially when his usual laughs had turned into harsh phrases that you've long memorized. It was nothing like before when the two of you used to share fleeting glances and laugh about anything.

Now, you were left with the pieces, trying to hold onto every single fragment in the hope of piecing it back together. Yet the pieces turned into ash, and before you knew it, they were slipping through your fingers like sand.

That was when it hit you. Why were you trying so hard to salvage a friendship that was clearly slipping away?

Then you thought of the officers who came and went from the same divisions as you. You thought of the friends you've made from your career in the defense force. You thought of the boy you liked during your beginning days. And yet, none of them had made your pulse falter the way Soshiro did when he was around.

None of them had made your heart clench when they looked away. None of them had left you without sleep, tossing and turning in bed as you thought of them the way you did with him. Even if you squeezed your eyes shut or told yourself that it was nothing, the questions never left your mind. Or when you slipped out of the dorm to walk beneath the starry skies, your mind was never cleared enough.

And though you didn't want to admit it, after almost two weeks, you gave in.

You had feelings for the man. The one with sharp eyes and a toothy grin. The one who's been pushing you away as though you were the plague in body. The one who had once been so kind and attentive to you.

But that was the difference between you.

You wanted answers. You wanted to know why his warmth had turned so cold. You wanted to know why his laughter had turned into cutting remarks that plunged a knife into your chest each time he spoke. And before you knew it, your impulse took you there.

"Vice Captain Hoshina." You had shown up at his office late at night without warning.

For a split second, you thought you saw surprise flash in his eyes, but maybe you had imagined it.

"What brings you here at this hour?" Soshiro had asked, but deep down, he was beyond curious. Your presence made his stomach churn and his lungs feel like they were without air. It was as though you hated the thought of him doing better and showed up every time just to taunt him. And each time you did, it was as though he was teaching himself how to breathe again.

Just how cruel are you going to be to me? The unspoken words crossed his mind, yet he didn't dare to voice them, let alone show them on his face.

"I..." you began, but your voice faltered. Every ounce of courage you had mustered crumbled before him.

What were you even doing here? What were you thinking by confronting him like this? What did you expect to gain, except humiliation?

You thought of turning away and ending it without a word. You considered excusing yourself and requesting a transfer to a different division. You thought of every excuse that would lie perfectly on the tip of your tongue, anything to end this sudden tension.

But then you thought of yourself. You thought of the girl who lay awake in bed without answers. You thought of the girl who was abandoned without a word.

And you knew, if you didn't speak now, you never would.

"I—why are you pushing me away?" The question tumbled from your lips, and something shifted in Soshiro's face. His brows raised, then dipped. His jaw tightened as though he was fighting the words that hid in the back of his throat.

Soshiro hadn't expected this. He had braced himself for distance, not a confrontation. He had imagined you would eventually request a transfer, or at the very least, keep your distance from him. And yet, here you stood, just as stubborn as he was, slipping past the walls he had built so many times before.

Indeed, you were the test of will, the test that the gods had given him, and perhaps if he'd passed, he'd never learned of despair. But then again, what would he gain from it?

The answer never came to him.

And though his heart was begging him to give in, Soshiro would rather destroy his mind before tasting the water. He would rather fall to his knees than crawl to you. And though he hates to admit it, he was a coward when it came to you, so pathetically so that it scares him at times.

If he truly gives in to you, just how far would he go for you?

"Have no clue what you're talking about, Officer L/N." Soshiro kept his voice even and steady. "I treat all my coworkers the same," he added, and your eyes sharpened.

The lie stung as though a thousand needles were pierced into your skin at once. You were furious. You didn't believe an ounce of his words. Yet the anger that had burned inside of you quickly dissipated into emptiness when you realized the reason why.

You weren't even worth the truth.

And you should have ended it there. You should have taken his answer and left. The sooner you twist that knife out of your chest and patch it up, the better. But instead, you did the opposite. It was as though you were telling him to plunge it deeper until your blood had run dry.

"If you didn't like me," you said, voice wavering, "you shouldn't have toyed with my feelings."

A confession. One that you didn't expect to roll off your tongue, but it was too late. At this point, you might as well slap him for all the cruel things he's done to you, and then resign forever. But instead, your eyes found the floor, refusing to meet his eyes as you found yourself in regret.

How naive of you to think that his kindness had been affectionate. How foolish of you to accept his warmth and take it as love, especially when kind was the word Soshiro was known by.

"Must I remind you again, Officer L/N?" Soshiro swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. "We can't afford relationships in this line of work," he said, but this time, he needed the words more than you.

For a brief moment, you didn't say anything, nor did you make a single movement. It took a little convincing before you murmured, "right," nodding faintly.

You couldn't help but call yourself a fool for standing here.

You knew Soshiro, and you knew that discipline was his God, one that he's never turning an eye away from. He was a fortress, the embodiment of the very word itself. Everyone knew that. Especially you, yet here you were, humiliated and drenched in the rain you had willingly walked into.

"My apologies, Vice Captain Hoshina. I was out of line." Your voice clicked back into professionalism, but Soshiro could see the hurt in your face. He could see the tears in your eyes, even under the dim lamplight behind him.

And for a moment, he imagined crossing the room and pulling you close. He imagined letting go of what he thought was right and choosing you, the one choice that would either leave him whole and breathing or one that would drown his body until he was consumed by nothing but regrets.

But he didn't move, nor did he say a word.

It was you who broke the silence.

"I'll finish my fifty laps first thing in the morning."

Your words left him shattered. Soshiro felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest, and in its place lay the guilt that had consumed him every time he punished you for being too close to him and excused it as improper work ethics.

You weren't the cruel one.

It was him.

"No laps," Soshiro said, turning his back to you. "Get some rest." His words were final, and you knew that.

What you didn't know was how he couldn't bring himself to look at you, knowing that any moment now, his world would come crashing down, and he'd do something he might regret for the rest of his life.

It will fade away, he'd told himself.

It has to.

Soshiro had imagined this many times before. You'd choose to walk away, and he'd be finished building the walls around his heart. You'd never question his intentions, and he'd be happier with rest and without guilt.

But it wasn't like that at all.

If anything, he was coming undone.

He thought the knife you had plunged into his chest was gone and his wound was on its way to healing, but in truth, it was still there, holding up the blood that was slowly dripping from his heart.

The memory of your conversation played in his mind like a movie that he couldn't turn off. It gnawed at his resolve. It made him question everything he did. And without a doubt, it was rubbing on him in every way possible; even the platoon leaders and Captain Ashido were asking if he was fine.

And to Soshiro, he was more than fine. His plans had worked. You kept your distance as though he were the plague, and it wasn't the other way around. In the corner of his eyes, he didn't see your pretty face, nor did his ears perk up to the sound of your voice.

It was good.

You really heeded his words.

And yet, Soshiro did not find peace.

Instead, Soshiro was certain that he had gone mad. His mind was filled with questions that he tried to rid himself of, but like an annoying fly that wouldn't leave his side, the question loomed in his mind.

What if he had been different? What if he didn't allow the fear of tomorrow to rule his mind? Would he die of happiness, or would he drown in sorrow?

He found his answer the next day when you walked through the door while he was in a conversation with Captain Ashido.

At a glance, Soshiro could tell that you didn't sleep well. He could see the way your eyes had swelled, and the way your demeanor had changed. And he knew, he knew the cause of your sleepless nights because you, too, were his, though he would never admit it.

"I'd like a transfer to a new division, Captain Ashido," you spoke, and Soshiro felt as though his world had come crashing down.

This was what he wanted, right? He had lain in bed, praying that he didn't have to initiate the distance, that he didn't have to transfer. He had been keeping away from you so you'd stop showing up unannounced at the doorstep of his heart.

It was an opportunity. He could focus on his job again, and you'd do the same. But then why did he want to scream? Why was his hand itching to grab you and tell you to stay?

No, this is for the best, he repeated the words in his mind like a prayer to whatever God was listening to him. And yet, when you called out to him so softly in that voice that he missed so dearly, he realized he had kept his eyes closed the entire time. Then he saw your face, and the smile that made his heart skip the first time was staring back at him.

"Thank you for being a good leader. I'll be going now." You bowed, and Soshiro lost it completely.

When you left the room, Soshiro snapped. His body turned against his will and found its way to you. He didn't care that he left the Captain's office so abruptly. He didn't care if he looked like a fool in front of his boss.

And though Soshiro didn't want to admit it, if the alarm had sounded right now, he wouldn't run the opposite way. He'd go to you, and that was the reason why he feared you.

"Wait!" His voice cracked with desperation, but he didn't care. Soshiro ran to you, and by the time you turned around, his arms were around you, and his lips were pressed onto yours. It was harsh and abrupt, a hunger that Soshiro had tamed for so long until he could no longer hold it in anymore.

You had tasted so sweet, so deadly that he knew there would be no going back. But that didn't matter anymore.

It was then that Soshiro decided that he didn't care about rules, about discipline, or the thought that death was looming above you. He didn't care if you could unravel his heart in ways that made him human.

"Don't leave," Soshiro whispered against your lips. "Stay..." he pleaded, tightening his hold around you, and that was more than enough for you to wrap your arms around his waist and return his kiss, ravishing his lips like he did to yours.

And with each second that passed by, Soshiro was more and more certain that he didn't care if death was waiting for him. He didn't care if his last breath was tomorrow, or the day after. He had decided then and there, and this time, he had chosen you.

And if devotion was his best suit, Soshiro wanted you to be his God, because nothing was more humane than giving in to your deepest desires.

And in that moment, he realized.

Even if tomorrow is unwritten, he wouldn't drown in sorrow. He'd die the happiest man alive.

╰┈➤. ゛taglist ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ @milabyxz @luopenis @kaminabbygirl @noice-fanfic-lover @purcupinata7777 @quietsnakeenclave

ଳ content: when the formidable vice-captain of the third division finds himself falling for a fellow officer | angst

ଳ paring: soshiro hoshina x f!reader

part II

Soshiro knew better than most.

He had spoken those words so many times they were etched into every crevice of his mind. Perhaps by now, the words were already seeping into the marrow of his bones. From the trainees to the officers with scars from battles with the kaiju beasts, and even, shamefully, to the few officers he found attractive in his years of service.

"Relationships have no place in this line of work." The words he repeated like a prayer to the Gods, especially on the days when his resolve was starting to fray.

Soshiro knew better than most. He understood what his job demanded. What it took from people like him. And death wasn't some distant possibility. In fact, it was a shadow, perhaps even closer than his own, breathing down his neck at this very moment. Any hour, any heartbeat, any breath could be his last. And yet, to fall in love only to leave someone behind in grief sounded unpleasant. Unforgivable, even for someone like him.

But there was something he forgot.

That he, too, was human.

And humans? Humans crave. They crave until longing turns to rot and eats their mind from within like a parasite that consumes their every being until their hands are holding that of their desires.

And yet, Soshiro believed himself different. That he had discipline, something that many did not harbor. That desire couldn't touch him, let alone consume his mind, until he was rotten and begging on his knees.

But then, you walked in. Fresh from the Second Division in your crisp and pristine uniform that you've ironed the night before.

"Officer Y/N. It's a pleasure to work with you."

Soshiro should have known better than to look longer than needed. He should have turned away before that heart of his skipped a beat, and invited the butterflies to dance in his stomach. And yet, he didn't. His eyes lingered a tad too long, and he swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of his throat.

He has seen beautiful before. He has seen pretty smiles, boba-like eyes, and even harbored fleeting infatuations that disappeared as quickly as they came and left. But you?

When you smiled at him, something inside him slipped. And when another stutter of his heart came, Soshiro knew he was in trouble.

The week that followed was war. Soshiro threw himself into the training room like a man who was possessed. Blades sliced the air over and over as sweat flew from his brow. It was almost desperate, and if anyone had seen him there and then, they would have guessed he was desperately trying to exorcise a ghost.

And yet, that wasn't enough. It wasn't enough for Soshiro to rid of your presence that danced in his mind like a wanted guest. So what did he do? Every evening, he would run and run until his clothes were drenched in sweat. He would run as many times as it took to blur his thoughts into nothingness, even if his lungs were burning and his legs were begging him to stop.

It was harsh, as though he was being punished, and, for God's sake, Soshiro felt as though he was, and you were the sentence he couldn't escape. A blasphemy of everything he believed in.

And, just when he thought it was over, one second was all it took to bring him back to ground zero.

Because your voice, gentle as the summer breeze and warm as tea on a cold morning, had somehow anchored itself in his mind. The more he tried to forget, the clearer it rang in his ears, almost as loud as the way his heart hammered in his chest whenever you're near.

He hated you for that. Even more so, he loathed the way your presence lingered and the thoughts that crept into his mind at night. The way your kissable lips would feel on his, and the way your skin would feel against the palm of his hands.

Soshiro had failed.

Two months, and he was still at ground zero. The usual trick he had used in the past had failed him, and discipline was a line that he was nearing.

Soshiro needed to do something. He had to act. He needed to shut his feelings down before they spiraled, or worse, before he spiraled into your life intimately.

"Vice-Captain Hoshina, regarding today's training—"

"Ask Platoon Leader Ikaruga." Soshiro's voice was enough to cut the air. It had been sharper than intended, but he didn't make a move. He shouldn't care, and yet when your expression faltered, just barely, it was enough to make the knife you've planted in his chest twist.

"But… Platoon Leader Ikaruga told me to ask you," you said softly, and Soshiro's jaw clenched. The way your voice dipped. The way it flowed into his ears was so gentle. So close, and yet, too much.

"Fifty laps for disobeying orders," he barked, and you stood dumbfounded for a split second before it turned into something else. Something that made the knife dig into his chest, before being removed, only to plunge into him again.

You were hurt.

And Soshiro swore you would have made a great actress by the way you masked it away the next second.

In a clean, practiced motion, you straightened before saluting. "Roger." You didn't dare look into his eyes before you turned and walked off without another word.

And yet, Soshiro should have been happy with that. He should have let you go, but the way his eyes took yours kept playing in his mind. Was it betrayal in your eyes? Disappointment?

He didn't know.

He shouldn't want to know.

But the following words were already clawing their way up his throat. His lips reacted before his mind could process, reaching for you when he hadn't given it permission.

"Officer Y/N—" Your name escaped him before he could stop it.

You turned, calm and professional. Whatever emotions you had harbored before were gone, and in their place was the neutral mask Soshiro hated.

"Yes, Vice-Captain Hoshina?"

Soshiro cursed under his breath. How dare his heart speak in turn for him? How dare his mind play such tricks on him? How dare the Gods bring you to tread his path when he thought nothing could penetrate his walls?

"Make it fifty-five...laps." Soshiro tried to sound as cold as a winter storm, yet he faltered at the last moment. His voice was softer than cold and controlled. It was nothing that he had intended, yet he didn't press himself. Because it was more than enough to prove that, he, too, was human.

But giving in was never something he was good at.

╰┈➤. anyone want a part II ?

ଳ content: having a heart-to-heart conversation with the vice-commander

ଳ paring: soshiro hoshina x f!reader

ଳ word count: 100~

“Have you ever wish on a shooting star?” you asked, your head tilted back as you gazed upon the stars above. It was brighter here than in the city—more than you’d see from the base. It reminded you of the sea that glimmered in the sunlight on a sunny day, except this time, the sea had been darkened, leaving naught but stars in its absence. It was simply beautiful.

At your question, Soshiro huffed a quiet laugh. “Nah. Why would I? If I want something, I make it happen myself.”

You lowered your head to look at him; your gaze was soft. “Really? So there’s never been something you wanted but couldn’t have?” 

For once, Soshiro hesitated. His violet eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes. His fingers twitched against the armrest of his camping chair as the fire between you crackled. 

There is.

But instead, he smiled. “Well, if I did wish for something, I wouldn’t tell you. It’s bad luck after all.”

╰┈➤. unfortunately, this is only a teaser for a Soshiro Hoshina x f!reader fanfic I'm working on. it will however, be posted soon.

ଳ content: gen narumi boyfriend headcanons ft. jealousy ♡

ଳ pairing: gen narumi x reader

ଳ word count: 300~

Jealous? Gen doesn't get jealous. Why would he? He's the best at everything—gaming, using a gun, hand-to-hand combat, you name it. He's fearless and strong. What's the use of being jealous when he's closer to being a God than a mortal?

At least, that's what he tells himself to ease his ego. But Gen gets jealous, like extremely jealous, when it comes to you.

However, unlike Soshiro, who is more subtle about it, Gen announces his jealousy to the world. Even though he constantly denies it, his actions say otherwise, and they are loud and clear.

"Who's that?" Gen would ask the moment he saw you laughing a little too loud and a bit too happy with another man. His eyes would be glaring daggers at the poor man.

"Don't tell me you're getting jealous over some small talk." You countered, ignoring his question completely. And this hurts his ego, like an arrow to his heart. "I'm not jealous," he'd huffed, scowling at you before he stomped away, mumbling words that he isn't jealous because he's the best at everything.

Oh, but you forget that Gen is super petty.

He would ignore you and pretend to be the cool and mysterious boyfriend for a while until another officer flirted (made a funny joke) with you, and he lost it completely.

He suddenly joins the first division's training and sits in his office chair. Except he forced you to forgo training and have you sit in his lap while he watched the officers train. He is being petty and showing exactly who you belong to.

For someone like Gen, he requires a lot of attention. So he gets jealous when you choose to have dinner with another fellow officer instead of him, claiming that you're not spending time with him (The both of you were tangled in bed before you left).

And when you’re giving attention to someone else, he's jealous and upset, and he'll do anything to get your attention like provoking you. He’d yawn dramatically and drape his arm over your shoulder, saying, "Remember when I saved your life last week? Good times." (He didn’t).

As much as he talks about not being jealous, he is, and his ego gets hurt often, so reassuring him would be a daily routine.

ଳ content: their favorite parts of your body & position headcanons

ଳ !! MDNI 18+ !!

ଳ pairing: kaiju no. 8 men x f!reader

ଳ word count: 600~

Reno Ichikawa

Do you know how a majority of Japanese men have a neck fetish? Yeah, this man is definitely one of them.

He thinks your neck is the sexiest part of your body, and it drives him crazy.

He loves your exposed nape the most, especially when you're training or engaging in battle and your hair is up in a ponytail.

He prefers hugging you from behind so he can rest his head on your shoulder, smelling and leaving kisses on your neck.

Of all the positions he's done with you, his favorite is doggy style.

He definitely enjoys nibbling on your neck as he is fucking you from behind with his body hovering over yours—a hand supporting his body while the other is fondling one of your breasts.

Soshiro Hoshina

Since his family is quite traditional, he can be pretty conservative, so his favorite parts of your body are those that only he can see—your back and waist.

It drives him crazy when you wear a backless dress or blouse, and he gets extremely jealous—though he would never admit it. He would force his jacket on you, claiming that he knows you're "too cold" when it's midday in summer.

His hand is always around your waist whenever he's near you, whether on a walk or cuddling with you on the couch.

Like Reno, he prefers doggy style as he loves cumming all over your back, painting your body in his cum.

He definitely likes holding your waist and slamming straight into you like crazy.

Kafka Hibino

Guys, do I even need to say it?

Kafka is definitely a boobie guy.

He loves your breasts the most, especially when he's sleeping next to you and spooning you. Instead of resting his hand on your waist, his hand is under your arm and resting on your breast.

Kafka is relatively easy to flustered, so even a glimpse of your cleavage is enough to send him blushing and his cock hard.

Unlike Reno or Soshiro, he hates doggy style. He prefers standing as your laying on the bed, your butt near the edge, and slamming into you as your breasts dances for him.

However, if he had to choose, cowgirl is his favorite position as he likes watching your breasts bounce, and it's easier to grab while you bounce on his cock.

Gen Narumi

He loves your hips and butt the most, and he isn't shy to admit it.

He doesn't care if anyone sees the way he grabs your hips in public or the way he smacks your butt without warning.

Unlike Soshiro, his hand would always be around your hips when he’s walking with you.

For that reason, you always hate it when you have to bend down for anything, whether it’s because you dropped something or have to pick up something.

Gen's gaze will always find your hips beaming back at him, and if he's close to you when you're bending over, nothing will ever stop his hand from greeting your butt.

One would think his favorite position is doggy style, but no. He doesn't like working for orgasm when you can do it for him, so he prefers reverse cowgirl.

It's like a buy one get one free deal, your making him feel good while he gets a good view of your ass. What more can he ask for?

However, he could be lenient sometimes, so he'd have you in cowgirl style, your hands on his body while his hands grip your hips, and he's slamming into you from below.

summary: Tomura struggled with sleep, much to the concern of his adopted father, Yoichi Shigaraki. As a feudal lord's heir, weakness was unacceptable, so Yoichi insisted that Tomura's personal servant help him. One day, a new servant arrived as his personal servant was tasked away. With her, Tomura finally found rest, but now he also want her.

genre: historical, dark romance ft. murder

paring: tomura shigaraki x f!reader

word count: 1.3k ~

Tomura couldn't sleep.

He never could.

But it wasn't by choice.

He didn't stay awake to admire the moon or listen to the crickets that sang in the dark. It wasn't something poetic like longing for the quiet hours of the night. He simply couldn't sleep. It was as if his body resisted the idea of sleep as if his soul feared that if he closed his eyes, the world would move on without him. He was afraid that if he closed his eyes, all that would remain would be the chaos left in his wake.

Some might call it paranoia. Fear, even. But Tomura would never admit to either.

So, every night, he convinced himself that it was nothing a simple nap in the afternoon couldn't fix. That it would be enough. Except, it wasn't. It was never enough. Sleep continued to evade him in the daylight as if it, too, was repulsed by his existence.

He couldn't do anything but drown in exhaustion, and it went on for as long as he could remember. Despite the ache in his body or the way his mind waded with a whirl of fog, sleep never came. Sleep never cares.

At least until tonight.

Until you.

Until you stepped into his bed-chamber, dressed in a simple white kimono, a smile gracing your lips--one that he convinced himself then and there was only meant for him.

Your smile had been so pure and delicate that he swore to be good. He swore if you were the light in the darkness surrounding him, he'd get to you and leave this all behind. And in that moment, he told himself, such a smile should only exist for him, for the Heavens had sent you his way.

Then you spoke, and his heartbeat faltered for the first time in his sleepless existence. His fingers twitched against the fabric of his robes as your voice—soft as silk and light as snow flowed over him. It was nothing more than evidence that you were indeed sent by the Heavens to him.

"Good evening, my lord." You greeted him with a bow, but Tomura didn't respond. Instead, you took it as a cue to kneel beside his tatami mat with the grace of a trained servant. "I have been ordered to assist you tonight as Kimura-san has been assigned a task elsewhere." You softly explained, but still, he didn't respond.

He simply watched you. His scarlet eyes bore into your harmless gaze, and you resisted the urge to fidget under his intimidating gaze.

It was no secret within the castle that Tomura suffered from sleepless nights.

It was carved into his face and evident in the dark hollows beneath his eyes. He was restless and tired of a dreamless existence. But still, that didn't mean he was weak. Instead, he quietly treads the castle in the daylight, but at night, he roamed the halls like a wraith, his presence like the darkness itself.

It was wonder how he managed to be alive despite the lack of sleep. And his father, Master Shigaraki, was terribly worried about his successor. He had grown weary of Tomura's sleepless affliction as a future daimyo, and as a feudal lord, he could not afford to be weak, especially not with fatigue. He wanted Tomura to be strong, but being strong meant control, and control didn't exist without a mind that wasn't disturbed.

So, in the end, Kimura--one of the castle's most trusted servants—had been assigned to him, tasked with ensuring he found sleep by any means necessary.

As she had been tasked, Kimura did anything to bring the man to sleep. She hired geishas and their delicate hands to play an endless stream of songs. She made them whisper lullabies in the dark, and when that didn't work, she forced the heir of Master Shigaraki to strip and work for sleep.

But still, nothing worked.

At least, not until tonight.

When the geisha arrived at her usual hour and settled down a few steps before Tomura's tatami mattress, something in his gaze flickered.

"Send her away," he ordered, his voice flat with irritation.

"But, my lord—" you hesitated.

"Now, or else my sword shall seek her neck."

At that, a cold shiver traced your spine. You had heard the whispers of the castle. The stories of his cruelty, of how his mood werconstantlyys changing. Of how he take the innocent lives of servants and samurais without remorse. But foolishly enough, you didn't believe it. At least, until now.

You had always wondered how a man with exhaustion could be so cruel, but now, you swore to never question it again.

So you bowed quickly with your voice rushed. "Yes, my lord."

You ushered the geisha out, barely sparing her a glance before sliding the door shut.

And when you turned back, your breath was caught in your throat.

Tomura sat silently, watching you with a look that sent goosebumps crawling through your skin. Perhaps you were next. Maybe he would kill you tonight, and no one would hear a scream, and if they did, no one would make a move.

And then—

"Talk to me." He commanded, though his voice was lower than before

You blinked, unsure if you had heard him correctly. "My lord?"

"Tell me about your life." He lay back on his mattress, the dark fabric of his robes pooling around him. "All of it. From the beginning to now, and leave nothing out." He pulled the covers over him.

But you hesitated.

A pause.

A beat too long.

Then he shifted beneath the covers, and you flinched before opening your mouth, your voice unsteady.

"My mother…"

You began despite the waver in your voice. You had never imagined you'd be here, telling the story of your life from your earliest memories to your adolescent years. But the more you spoke, the more you lost yourself in your memories—your childhood mischiefs, the scent of the summer rain, the first time you had ever stepped into the castle halls with your eyes wide and heart pounding.

And then—

Zzz… Zzz…

A sound that you never expected to hear.

Soft, rhythmic, and steady.

You lifted your gaze, dropping your eyes on Tomura, who was sleeping.

For a moment, you wondered if the rumors were wrong—if the stories of his restless years were mere exaggerations. But as your eyes traced the deep hollows and the dark circles beneath his lashes, you knew the truth.

He had been starved of sleep.

And tonight, for the first time in years, he found it.

When morning arrived, and Tomura was still asleep, the castle physician was summoned. It was a day to celebrate. Even the news of his slumber spread until they reached Master Shigaraki himself.

"So," the daimyo mused, his eyes sharp with contemplation. "A conversation, you say?" He exhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his low table. "If it's conversation he wants, then a scholar shall accompany him tonight."

Except—

That was where he went wrong.

Tomura didn't want a scholar. He didn't want a pretty geisha to play a thousand songs. He didn't want a conversation with his personal servant, Kimura. He simply wanted you. And, he craved—oh boy, he covet your presence like a wild beast.

And when his father denied him, insisting on another solution, Tomura made his anger known. He killed Kimura-san without remorse and demanded his father's attention.

When word of the act reached Master Shigaraki, he merely sighed, rubbing his temple as though burdened with a particularly difficult child. "If it's that lowly servant you want, then prove yourself to me. Conquer the Chisaki regime. Expand our territory. Then, and only then, will she be yours. Until then, she shall only assist you in the night."

At that, Tomura was furious. He had destroyed everything in his wake. His sword slashed through every wall, every bush of flowers, and every servant that had walked before him.

But that was just the beginning, for Tomura wouldn't stop until you were his and not an object that decorated his room at night.

But for now, he shall be content. At least for now. Because at night, you belong to him, and soon, he would claim you in the daylight as well. After all, he is the mortal that owns the night like day, and day was not unreachable.

"You knew what you were doing, and you knew it would hurt me, but somehow, that didn't stop you."

- unknown

ଳ summary: When his relationship became dull, Katsuki sought a thrilling relationship and cheated on his significant other. However, one day, he felt a spark from his significant other again and wanted to start again. Still, fate has never been kind to anyone. Not even to the number two hero.

ଳ genre: angst, cheating, tragic romance

ଳ pairing: katsuki bakugou x f!reader

ଳ word count: 2k~

It never occurred to him that you were beautiful.

At least not in the way it should have.

In the beginning, you were everything—his everything. You were the prettiest girl in the world and made him the happiest man alive. Whenever he was down, your smile was all he needed to feel better. There was nothing in the world that could compare to the way you made him feel.

But then, he should have seen it coming. He should've known that comfortability was a thief—one that would steal the wonder and dull the moment. He should have known and fought against it, but instead, he let it breed into indifference. And by the time he noticed it, your beauty was no longer as beautiful as he remembered it. It was just simply there, for you were always there—always the same.

Then his eyes wandered.

A passing glance at another woman. A moment of temptation. A fleeting glance at something new. And when you didn't bother to notice—when you smiled at him with your trust fully engraved in him, he grew bolder. He grew confident.

Too confident that he didn't care if you noticed because you won't. At least not when you're still gazing up at him like he is still your entire world.

So one glance turned into two, and two turned into lingering stares. Before he knew it, his lips were pressed against another pair of lips. Then, in the privacy of his office, perfumes that weren't yours lingered on his skin, and a body that wasn't yours was touched by him ever so gently.

It was at that moment when Katsuki realized he was starving—that didn’t know he was craving for something until he tasted her lips.

Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline, the way her touch was so unfamiliar, so exciting, so new and thrilling. Or maybe it was the way she looked at him—not with innocent eyes, but with hunger. With desire like she, too, had been craving for him. Whatever it was, it made him feel alive. So alive that he felt like a God.

But he told himself it was just one time. Except, he should have stopped then and there. He should have reconsidered his choices, but he didn't. He didn't because he knew one time was not enough.

Never.

He wanted more.

So, nights in his office quickly turned into nights in hotel rooms. And all of a sudden, he was wrapped in sheets that didn't smell like you and tangled with a body that wasn't yours.

But Katsuki didn't care.

For the first time in a while, he felt alive—so alive that he chased this feeling like a man who was no longer sane.

And the worst part?

He convinced himself that it was you who changed him—that it was all your fault. That your relationship had become dull and boring because of you. Because you were always in your t-shirt and jeans, and if not that, then your silly little nurse uniform.

So he did it again. And again.

For a year, he lived a life that he once claimed he'd never live. By day, he was your devoted lover, your hero who cared about the world and would never wrong anyone. But during the night, he was hers. His body, his time, and his passion were poured onto her like a waterfall with no ending.

And you made it so easy for him that he didn't care if he was indifferent. You were always busy, always working late into the night, and whenever you were home, you were always exhausted. You never questioned his loyalty, but that was because you were understanding—too understanding of his work as a hero that you didn't care to question it.

At least, not until today.

You had come home that afternoon with shopping bags in your hand, your cheeks flushed with excitement. You had finally gone out and spoiled yourself for the first time in a while. You had finally gone out with your friends as Katsuki was too exhausted from work. But of course, you didn't mind it.

You never did.

So, happily, you pulled a dress from the shopping bag and quickly changed into it before running to him who was sitting on the couch with his phone in hand. You demanded his attention as you twirled in front of him with a shy and hopeful smile.

And it was then that he remembered.

He remembered that you were beautiful. That you were utterly breathtaking.

Then, for the first time in a while, the sight of you made his stomach twisted into something ugly and sharp. Something that made his stomach churn like being thrown in a whirlpool. And when you continued to smile at him like he was your entire world, his heart clenched.

Memories flooded his mind, and he remembered. He remembered that once upon a time, he had sworn to protect that smile. To cherish it. To never be the reason it faltered.

And then it fucking hit him.

Gods, he was an idiot.

"Kats?" You called out to him, your voice as soft as he remembered it. "Is something wrong? Do I look ugly?" You pouted as your brows knitted together, and it was then that he wanted to scream. He wanted to hit himself. He wanted to take your hands and beg for forgiveness.

But he didn't.

Instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat before managing a "no" as he forced his voice to steady. "You look…" He swallowed another lump. "Beautiful." He almost whispered. "So beautiful."

Your face immediately brightened up at that, your smile widening like an innocent child. And for the first time, he couldn't bear to look into your innocent eyes. Katsuki quickly diverted his gaze as his chest tightened. He’s done it many times before, but today in particular, he couldn't bear to lie when you're smiling at him like a hero.

And then it dawned on him. The reason why you were always in your T-shirt and jeans. The reason you were always lazing around the apartment with him. The reason things had become stagnant.

It was wasn’t you.

It was him.

It was because he had grown comfortable. Too comfortable that he stopped trying. That he stopped making an effort to make you the happiest girl alive. And foolishly enough, he had put the blame on you, the only person trying to fix this relationship all along.

It never occurred to him until now. The plans you've made, but he was too exhausted for. The nights you initiated first but it wasn't exciting enough. The movies you wanted to watch but he wasn't in the mood for. The recipes you've tried, but he wasn't hungry.

All along, he was the problem—never you.

It would never be you.

And selfishly enough, he decided then and there—he wanted to fix this. He wanted to start over and forget everything that happened. He wanted to go back to being yours—wholly, completely, honestly, and this time, he swore he wouldn't let his gaze wander again.

"Let's go out tonight." The words slipped out before he could stop himself, and your eyes widened in surprise. "For real?" You asked, hopeful as you tilted your head slightly.

And when he saw your hopeful expression, it felt like a punch to his gut.

You had waited.

All this time, you had waited for him to love you again. To be the Katsuki that he used to be. To be the Katsuki that you fell in love with, yet you've never complained.

"For real." He smiled, and for the first time, it was genuine.

Tonight, he thought to himself. Tonight, he would end it—all of this. The lies, the deceit, the betraying, and maybe, if he didn't speak of his sins, he could still be your hero, your Katsuki.

But Katsuki should have known. He should have seen it coming. He should have known it would eventually catch up to him because though time was cruel, fate was worse than time.

You sat on the couch, humming as you scrolled through your phone. You were dressed in your little dress as you waited for him to get ready. Then his phone lit up.

But you didn't even care. You never did.

Instead, you wanted to go to him, to see if he was ready. So you placed your phone on the coffee table, wanting to head to your shared bedroom, except your eyes landed on his phone. On the message that had lit up his screen.

You never made it to your shared bedroom.

'I miss you, Katsuki. Can you come over tonight?'

You read the message over and over again, afraid that you've mistaken it. Perhaps you were sleep-deprived, or your eyes were messing with you. Yet every moment your eyes scanned the message, it remained the same—unchanging and hurtful.

Although they were merely words, it felt as though an arrow had shot through your chest. And if it wasn't enough, someone was twisting that arrow as your chest tightened for a breath of air. And all of a sudden, your living room had turned frigid as a shiver crawled through your body.

Your hands quickly seek the comfort of your dress, fingers clenching the fabric as your stomach twists. You wanted to push away every thought that consumed your mind. You wanted to tell yourself that it was a lie. Perhaps someone was using their quirk on you, or maybe it was the wrong number.

But you knew when he walked in and your head perked up to meet his gaze. You knew that something was wrong, so awfully wrong, and you feared the worst.

You didn't want to believe this was true. You wanted this to be a lie, a dream.  But your eyes grew blurry when his trembling gaze drifted to the glowing screen.

You didn't have to ask. You didn't have to unlock it. You didn't have to dig for proof. It was written all over his face as he paled, and his lips parted without a sound.

He was no longer yours.

The very man that is standing in front of you was gone a long time ago.

And you should've gotten up and left, but instead, you stayed. You continued to look into those eyes of a traitor as you blinked your tears away.

"Who…" Your voice is barely above a whisper. "Who is she?" Your breath trembled as you forced the words out.

Silence.

A breath. A hesitation.

"Katsuki." His name trembled on your lips as you slowly stood.

But he didn't speak. Didn't deny it. Didn't try to lie.

Instead, he stood with his jaw clenched and his gaze full of guilt. He didn't try to explain himself. He didn't rush to your side. He didn't utter a single word. Not even an apology in that agonizing, deafening silence, and you were shattered.

You were broken into a thousand pieces as you stood there, facing the monster you loved so loyally, like a dog to its owner. And in that moment, you felt nothing but pity for yourself as you let out laughed—hollow and broken.

It all made sense now.

The late nights. The missed calls. The weekends he was on "missions." The growing distance. The way he hadn't touched you in over a year. The way he looked at you and saw nothing.

"So much for being a righteous hero." You wanted to snap at him, but all that came out was the tremble of your voice—oh, how betrayed you were at that moment.

But Katsuki didn't care, and if he did, he didn't show it. Instead, he remained still with his jaw clenched and his throat bobbing as if he wanted to speak, but he didn't say a word in the end.

For, in the end, you weren't even worth an explanation for his betrayal.

And just like that, you got up and left. You didn't bother packing your bags. You didn't bother bringing anything with you. All you knew was that you wanted out right there and then, and even when you left, he never chased you.

Yet foolishly enough, Katsuki's tears cascaded down his face the moment you left before he laughed at himself—bitter and hollow.

How dare he cry when he was the one setting himself on fire.

ଳ Content: Soshiro Hoshina Boyfriend Headcanons ft. Jealousy

ଳ Pairing: soshiro hoshina x f!reader

ଳ Word count: 700~

If the dictionary was a picture book, his portrait would be next to the word jealous.

Although he claims to be logical and levelheaded and anything but a jealous man, he knew that somewhere deep inside of him, he is a very jealous man--though he may never admit it.

He could be unstable when jealous, but he just can't control it. Does he like it? No, but he can’t just pluck it out of him.

Definitely blame you for his jealous tendencies, saying, "he's never been like this before," except he's always been a jealous boy. Always. He’s just trying to justify himself.

When he likes something, he tends to get obsessed with it, like a kid who tastes candies for the first time and can't get enough. He always wants more, and more is never enough.

He's extremely impatient with you, especially when he's trying to meet you during his break or day off. Why are you so slow? He doesn't have time on his side; a Kaiju could pop out at any moment now.

He hates being away from you for an extended period, especially when he's in a meeting and can't watch out for the wolves of men surrounding you.

It's not that he doesn't trust you. He does. He just doesn't trust the species of men.

You want to train? If it's not with him, he's up and rushing to you to see if it's with a girl.

When he's with his captain, he doesn't act so foolish. But if you're talking to a man and he sees you while he's with his captain, that little interaction would be on his mind until he sees you and the first thing he’d asks you is, "Who's that guy that talked to you earlier?" "What'd you talked about?"

Or when he catches you laughing at a joke made by another man that isn’t him, he would sneak up on you and asks, "What's so funny?" with his gaze narrowed and scrutinizing.

Bonus:

Soshiro didn't consider himself the jealous type—never. And even if he was, he would never admit it because he was logical, levelheaded, and far too disciplined to let something as trivial as emotions get the best of him.

At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

And yet his jaw tightened, and his arms crossed as he watched you laugh a little too hard at something your fellow recruit was saying. He wasn't even aware of his brow, which often twitched as he stood there.

But still, it wasn't jealousy. Definitely not, he keeps telling himself. He was just…annoyed. Yeah, he was just annoyed. Irritated. Perhaps a little cranky from waking up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

That has to be the reason why. There was no other possible reason.

But then, why couldn't he tear his gaze away from you? Why did his stomach coiled every time that recruit raked a hand through his hair, grinning at you like you were the only person in the room?

He's definitely flirting.

"Oh? What's this?" Kikoru's smug voice resonated from beside him. "Is our Vice-Captain Hoshina jealous?"

"I don't get jealous," Soshiro huffed, but the way his fingers curled into biceps said otherwise.

"Mhmm." Kikoru hummed, not even pretending to believe him as her gaze bounced between you and her captain. "You're definitely cutting poor Sota's limbs with your eyes, right now."

"No, why would I? I'm just…keeping an eye on the recruits."

At that, Kikoru rolled her eyes. "If you're so worry why don't you just go over there and say something? Y'know, like what you always do," she pointed out, definitely mocking him, but Soshiro was too occupied to care.

Instead, he rolled his eyes as he muttered, "I don't always do that," but he was already rolling his shoulders, already shifting his weight.

Three.

He flexed his fingers.

Two.

He exhaled sharply through his nose.

One.

He began moving. His legs carried him across the room before he halted beside you and draped an arm over your shoulder like he owned the space next to you. Like he had every right to be here.

"Hey, babe," he said, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. "Oh, and who's your friend?" He regarded the man next to you as if he hadn't noticed the man before.

You immediately stiffened at this as you mentally prepared yourself. You knew exactly where this was going and couldn't help but exhale slowly before you gestured to the recruit. "Vice-Captain Hoshina, this is Sota. He was just telling me—”

"Wow," Soshiro interjected, nodding like he had been listening. "Sounds like a funny guy. Haha." He pretended to laugh, though it sounded artificial. "You've definitely got to tell me those jokes, Sota-san.”

The poor recruit blinked, clearly uncertain if he was being offered a death sentence or if this was genuine. "Uh… of course, sir?"

And before he could stop himself, Soshiro was already saying something stupid. Something along the line of, "Say, we've never sparred before, right?" and Sota immediately paled, his vigor no longer there.

"N-No, sir?"

"Ah, well we should fix that someday." Soshiro smiled as he pulled you closer. Yet he isn't jealous. He was just curious about Sota's ability to fight. Besides, he is the vice-captain, after all, and nothing is better than training his recruits, right?

"I was looked at, but I wasn't seen." - Albert Camus, "The Misunderstanding."

ଳ summary: shoto is bad at love

ଳ pairing: shoto todoroki x f!reader

ଳ word count: 300~

Shoto didn't know how to be your boyfriend.

Not really.

He was bad at love, and you learned it the hard way. His form of love wasn't expressive but distant. To him, love was conservative and steady, like a stream of a lazy river. It wasn't too passionate, but it wasn't too dull. It was balanced—right in the middle where the both of you are getting enough, but at the same time, not enough.

But that's where the problem starts.

Shoto didn't believe in communication. He didn't believe that expressing his thoughts would change anything. He didn't believe that silly words would fix anything. Instead, he would rather much prefer to distant himself, at least until the issue was gone and out of his mind.

And that's where you start to hate yourself.

Shoto wasn't cruel. Never. He has never raised his voice on you, and his hand has never touched your body with any malicious intent. If anything, you were the only one raising your voice in this relationship. You were the only one pushing him away when all he wanted to do was hold you.

And then it happened.

As if the Gods hated your relationship, Shoto got busier with his work, like the Gods were giving you an excuse to leave. He started coming home to your shared apartment late. He started to forget anniversaries. He started eating without you, and before you knew it, he barely glanced your way.

The little hope that you were holding on to was slipping away, and now, they were getting too slippery. You don't know how much longer you could take before you let go.

And frankly, you thought about it. You had imagined yourself leaving many times before. You had imagined packing up your things and walking out the door to see if he would care enough to chase you. Yet somewhere deep within your heart, you knew he wouldn't. Not because he doesn't care, but because he was kind.

Too kind that if you wanted out, he would never bring you back to ground zero.