#toru x reader

if you do jofoe headcanons (ignore this if you don’t ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹) i think in your writing style it would be sooo good if you did a reader who does so much work for the jofoes (as a right hand) and gets so overwhelmed with how much they have to do that it becomes obvious they need a break/way to decompress and the jofoes decide to help ‘em out a bit (SFW AND NSFW HEADCANONS PLSS) (+diego idk if you count him or not 😭😭😘❤️‍🩹)

please remember to not push yourself i beg 🙏🙏 put yourself first gracious author your mental health is more important then writing requests (especially the ones on freak time)

Jofoes + Diego helping the reader to decompress

tags: gn! reader, established relationship (for some), nsfw under the cut, manipulation, teasing, toxic relationship (lowkey), sub! reader, manhandling, hair pulling, grinding, oral sex, creampies

characters: dio, kars, kira, diavolo, pucci, funny valentine, diego, tooru, acca howler

a/n: diego being here is so funny. bro is literally just some guy compared to everyone else 😭 also crap i didnt realize you wanted headcanons. OHHH WELL, i wrote each one as a small fic really

Dio Brando

- all your hard work had finally paid off when he kept a close eye on you. he was able to point out the little differences in the way you do everything.

- from your mannerisms, the way you talk, the tone of your voice, he studies everything about you. anything that was off or different aboit you, he will be the first to know.

- "your balance is off." he spoke out of nowhere when you walked in his large bedroom. he postured in front of the window, the shadows casting over him but his back was facing you. "what are you hiding from me?"

- you stared at him in shock. "w-what..?" you squeaked. "nothing, i feel fine." you laughed dryly.

- he knew you too well. your body said otherwise and he remained facing away from you, even as you approach him.

- you were exhausted, you've done so much work that you didnt notice the physical signs. but you could definitely feel them.

- and dio could tell too, its why he would be so meddling in the first place.

- he'd turn to to look at you, those striking eyes judging your every move. and yet, when he lifts a finger to graze at your cheek, he was so gentle.

- "so stressed..." he cooed quietly, his voice remained low but the look on his face remained cold. it almost felt belittling, like a mockery was made out of you. "oh, am i cruel for making you work so much?"

- "of course not, lord dio..." you answered quickly, melting into his cold touch. "it was me! my own carelessness got the better of me. i pushed myself too hard..."

- "i suspected as such." he pulled away from you, his gaze wandering over the bedroom. "i supposed it's fair if you took a break, yes?"

- "for real..?" you eyed at him in awe and he didn't say anything. his tall figure walked further into the bedroom, his large bed displayed with duvet covers that kisses your skin so nicely.

- his body is big, mounting over you. his lips are soft, each kiss passionate than the last. his hands find their way to your neck, your gasps making him chuckle as he pulls away from your lips. your hips bucked against him but his hold on you was so firm, you felt completely helpless.

- "eager are we?" he clicked his tongue, taking a hand to caress at your sides and you whined in response.

- "it's been tiring..." you weakly mumbled, the muscles in your body aching. your mind was running like crazy. but don't worry. dio is here to make you feel all better.

- when you're so overwhelmed with thoughts, he plans to just fuck it all away for you. but don't think he's the type to get all needy. it won't just be a quick fuck, he'll drag it out as long as he needs to. until you beg him to stop.

- "don't think even think about touching yourself." he warns. "not like there's much else for you to think, you should only focus on me, my dear."

Kars

- your little weak body was destined to be tired, but he didn't think you'd overdo it this soon. he thought you were durable enough, has he been proven wrong?

- he stands there when you smiled at him tiredly, your body slightly rocking back and forth.

- "i-im really sorry. i pushed myself too hard, i just- i need a break.." you told him. he appreciated the honesty at this, things wouldve ended ugly had you lied to him this whole time.

- he sighs through his nose, the expression on his face remained the same. "you've deemed yourself worthy to me and now you're not sure if you can carry on your duty? are you still loyal to me?"

- "yes of course..!" you croaked. "it's just-... i can't be at the top of my game right now. i'm completely burnt out.." you frowned.

- "there's no such thing as burning out, you're weak. only a liability. and to think i saw you different. you humans are all the same." kars spat and you felt yourself shrink at his words.

- he paused to stare at you. so devoted to him, even as he scolded you. he wouldve assumed you'd run away or opt out in being part of his following. you were his favorite human after all, he almost felt bad for snapping.

- he extended a hand, welcoming you to come closer and you obliged. he was gentle with his touches, his form a lot bigger than you and it made you feel safe. but one wrong move and you'd end up 6 feet under, as harsh as that sounds.

- "just one break and i'll get back to work. promise." you mumbled, feeling his large palms caressing your jawline as he cupped your face.

- "promises are completely meaningless to me." kars laughed quietly and you kept staring at him. "alternatively, i have a different idea on how to help you with your little problem."

- you wanted to question what he meant by this. you familiarized yourself at the way his face would turn, something a lot more sinister when he smiles down at you like that.

- he had you pinned against the bed, the curtains pulled all the way down. it was dark but his body pressed against yours was so warm that it distracted you. he made you feel so full.

- you never really expected for him to put you in such a compromising position. your voice was so hoarsed, whatever you were worried about before was long gone. all you were thinking about was his hard cock drilling inside of you.

- evidently, he left you cuddled up in the messed up bedsheets. his nude body sitting up as he watched your sleeping form. he caressed your cheek, not saying another word as he left you alone. he can afford to let you rest for the night. your body needed it after what he's done.

Yoshikage Kira

- everyone gets tired. he's tired almost constantly from his work. all the work he does actually.

- he didn't think much when you barged into your shared home, kicking your shoes off with dry tears staining your cheeks.

- today was awful. you had to clean up after the mess he made. the neighbors were suspicious enough and so you had to work your ass off "tending" the garden.

- your splintered fingers shook as you rinsed them up in the kitchen sink, sniffling quietly and before you can dry them off you bumped into him standing there.

- "sorry.." your voice was quiet.

- "did you hurt yourself?" he looked down at your trembling hands, your skin dry to touch from how harshly you were rubbing the dirt and blood off.

- "..a little.." you didn't look up at him, even as he gently took your hand and lifted them up so he can get a good look at them himself.

- he had a... weird obsession with your hands. always wanted them to look as pretty, clean and manicured as possible. even as you did a lot of the dirty work for him. but you never bothered questioning him whenever he offered to massage them, especially with lotion.

- "i'll be okay, i just need to rest for a little bit." you reassured, even as he continued to caress your calloused hands. you watched him closely, letting him bring your hands up to his face as he leaned against your palms.

- "it's my fault." he muttered, his voice low as he looks at you. a wave of guilt rushing over you as you stared into his eyes, his creased eyebrows were intense and the grip he had on your hand only grew tighter. "please.. let me make it up to you."

- he had his moments where he treated you in adoration. like you were the only thing that ever mattered. other nights left you laying on the bed, the blankets feeling a lot colder even if he was resting beside you. with the way he leaned to give you a chaste kiss made you completely forget that the latter had ever happened.

- he offered to have you relax for the whole entire week. you appreciated the sentiment, though nothing compared to the way he loosened the tie he always wore. his properly ironed suit discarded to the floor, large palms stroking his hardening length as he eyed you like a hungry predator.

- and you, the helpless prey, were spread in only your underwear as you matched his pace with your own hand between your legs. your lips parted, panting with flushed cheeks and your eyes barely open.

- "keep going.." you heard him guide you, nearing his release as the composure he had was already wearing off. "cum with me."

- the bedsheets, stained with your mixed juices and he held you close in his arms as you laid together in bed. you drifted off quickly, forgetting what you were even stressed about to begin with.

Diavolo

- you've worked a lot of jobs in the past, though none of them were as intensive as this. dealing drugs? tracking traitors and killing enemies? it was a mental toll having to expose yourself to it all; even if it was your 500, 600, 700 time doing it. especially when you were pretty much his messenger, having be the only one who actually knows who he is and what he looks like.

- you'd sigh to yourself, hanging the phone from having to talk to yet another group who wanted to talk to the boss. but your excuse is saying that he's busy. you couldn't care about them yelling at you on the other line, simply hanging up on them as you rubbed your temples. when was the last time you even had time for yourself? or even eaten for that matter.

- "i'm back." you approached diavolo who was sitting in his chair in the dark, the only light coming from the computer he was using. you liked how sharp his features were, his gaze was intense when he turned to look at you. "it's been a long day, i forget how much people really wanna see your face." you laughed quietly, daring to even reach out and graze your finger along his jaw. "and i don't blame them either."

- he pulled away from your touch, standing up from his seat as he towered over your form. you gulped nervously, looking down at your feet as he eyed you cautiously. "look at me." he directed and you didn't bother hesitating, meeting his dark eyes. "what are you so tense for? do i scare you that bad?" it was almost as if he was mocking you.

- "kinda." you blurted a response. though, you were quick to retract that statement. "i'm just.. stressed? i think i've overworked myself. im really tired, i feel like my brain is melting." you admitted sheepishly. hell, you felt your tongue tie anytime you open your mouth. it had gotten that bad.

- you felt his hand rest on top of your head, already your stomach had knots but you leaned in to whatever warmth he gave. "stressed? from running your usual errands? you're not making any sense." he scoffed.

- you stayed quiet, your shoulders sinking a bit. maybe you were being a little dramatic. you were "home" now and had finished your work. what more could you ask for, were you not relaxing right now? your brain was so fuzzy, his lips were moving but you hardly heard whatever he was saying.

- your eyes were lidded and he took the hint that you weren't paying attention. he didn't have a lot of patience, it would grow thin but surprisingly he pondered on what he could do with you. its like talking to a walking zombie. did he feel bad? not necessarily, but he couldn't afford to have you in this kind of state. especially since he needs you do run him more favors later tonight.

- "hey that tickles.." you giggled quietly, his long fingernails trailing along your neck. "strip." he directed rather bluntly which caught you by surprise. you noticed how he rolled his eyes, your cluelessness was such an annoyance. "don't make me repeat myself." he snapped.

- you didn't dare make him repeat at all. he had you bent over the desk, everything nearly knocked over as he was balls deep inside of you. and he had such a perfect view. your ass on full display for him to grab and spank while his peripheral caught his computer screen.

- you did your best to muffle your moans, hand slapped to your mouth as he had his way with you. the clothes that you were wearing completely discarded to the floor. when did that happen? you couldn't care when he pushed himself inside, the fullness becoming all too familiar. every vein of his length your body had memorized as he pulled and push in a rhythmic pace.

- something you had grown all too familiar with.

Enrico Pucci

- the church was always quiet and pretty much empty in the evenings. most of the regulars come and go, praising father Pucci while others sat quietly in the pews as they clasped their hands together for prayer. you looked after the altar, cleaning it up at the end of the day as you helped pucci close the church after hours.

- the coat that you wore fit tightly, keeping you warm even on the coldest days. you watched him stuff his hands in his robes, smiling at you. "shall we?" he gestured and you nodded your head. it was a routine that you both did where he would accompany you to your house. luckily, you didn't live too far.

- there was an ache along your shoulders and neck that had been bothering you for weeks now. you stretched, switched sleeping positions, even massaged the area with some special cream to relieve your muscles. was it the stress that you carried that somehow turned your problems into physical symptoms. you stared at the floor, lost into your own world.

- "you're so quiet." pucci broke you out of your thoughts, his gaze stayed locked into yours. looking around, you were only a block away from your neighborhood. guess you kinda lost track of time. you were honestly more surprised that he hadn't said anything until now, it was just silence between the two of you for who knows how many miles. "is everything okay?"

- "hm..? oh yeah- no yeah..! everything is okay, sorry. i just.. i was thinking of a lot of things." you explained sheepishly. but he had a knowing look that made you shrink. you knew better than to lie to him, especially with how intuitive he can be.

- "that mind of yours is always running. you'll stress yourself out." he warned and you knew far too well that he was right. and you knew he meant well but it was hard getting it all under control at the same time. still, it was nice to hear that he cares at least and you smiled at that thought.

- when you arrived at the front of your house, you thanked him for the company and before he could leave you beckoned him to stay. just a little longer. and he didn't question it, seeing how troubled you were with your thoughts going against you.

- "it's not so easy to just sit down and relax." you took your coat off as you joined him on your tiny couch. one where your thighs were already touching each other just by simply sitting next to him. "i feel like im going insane." you sighed as you sat down.

- "i'd be happy to help." pucci was always so composed and calm. it almost feels unnatural with how casual he is with everything. even if the most bizarre things were to happen, rarely have you ever seen him lose his cool. "sleeping is good for the mind and the body."

- "i'm not really tired. not physically at least." you shrugged at this, not minding how he leaned back as his arm rested on top of the couch behind you. it almost felt like he was welcoming you in with his warmth. and you almost fell victim to it.

- "a good cardio workout can help your body feel tired." he explains. "though im sure you know that just as much." and you noticed the lingering touch of his hand patting at your thigh. you weren't stupid and part of you played a little too bold at what he was trying to get at here.

- "what would be a good workout?" your voice trailed, giving in to those impulsions as you scooted closer. half of your lap was barely on top of his but what got you was the way he didn't push away. his eyelids lowered and the corners of his plump lips curved ever so slightly. he was intrigued by your boldness.

- "i have a few in mind. care for a demonstration, my dear? it won't take long." he brought that same hand that patted your thigh back in its place. you bit your lip and nodded your head, giving in to his desires completely.

- you found yourself tangled in your bedsheets, weak hands grasping at whatever surface to keep yourself steady. your legs were wrapped around his waist as your headboard gently smacked against the wall, harmonizing with your moans. he pushed himself further, making you completely bottom out and you swore you saw god looking down at you in shame.

- you chanted inaudible prayers, your mind asking for forgiveness. "eyes up, my dear. you make me feel so.. complete." he brought your hand up to his face, peppering kisses and you mewled in response. you were exactly where you wanted to be.

Funny Valentine

- you completely fucked up. again, goes another teacup that you spilled on the richmen that valentine was chatting up with. your hands trembled as you frantically apologized, handfuls of napkins in your hands as you cleaned the spill.

- "some maid you got here." you hear these men quip and you stood beside valentine, keeping quiet until they changed the topic. you see out of the corner of your eye, funny valentine flashing a gaze at your direction but he didn't say anything. he continued like everything was normal.

- it was hard keeping a smile and your posture upright all day. not to mention that you were at funny valentine's request at any moment he calls for you. and he wasn't stupid, he noticed the tired look in your eyes. he was familiar with it.

- you hid away at the overnight train, looking out the window of the private rooms. the door slid open and you saw the long-haired blonde staring down at you. "my dear, what's gotten you so worried?" he kept his voice low but his tone was almost direct when he spoke to you.

- "ah.. just the usual work. i don't really like your friends, val." the nickname you gave him, so cute and short and he woud gush when you use it on him. but tonight, he seemed a lot more serious and you, for a good reason, matched that energy. "i've been working a lot more than usual. did something happen?"

- "oh, not at all." he chuckled, joining you in the room and made sure that the door closed behind him. "you seem tired. you can ran rest now, my dear. don't let me stop you." there was a mischievious glint in his eyes when he said that. for some reason you weren't sure if you could really trust him.

- "gee, was it that obvious?" you laughed quietly. sleep did sound really good right now but these cramped rooms made an uncomfortable space where you knew your body would ache from the position.

- his shadow casted over you, his figure right in front of you and a gloved hand gently cupped your jaw. "i stared at you all day. don't try to wiggle your way out of this." he whispered. "so tense.." his hands trailed to your shoulders and you let out a quiet sigh. you knew how this was going to end and you bit your lip when he leaned in to pepper kisses along your skin.

- "mm.. what if someone walks in? these walls aren't so thin, there's a couple just across from us.." you whispered to your husband and he scoffs at this. "my dear, i know your body too well. surely you can keep quiet, yes?" he tilted his head a bit.

- your body trembled. more than usual and you begrudgingly nodded your head as he took a gloved hand to lift your head for you to look at him. his kisses were painfully slow and passionate, he liked taking his time. he used a bit of his strength to push you further into the small room, a tight grip on your arm turned you around so that your back pressed against him.

- you felt him, all of him, even if it was matter of fabric seperating your bodies from touching. he pressed his groin against your ass and you instinctively rubbed back against him. you knew he was big, your body recognized every inch of his body even while you were away from him.

- "val.." you whispered and he brought a glove hand to your lips. just to shut you up. you moaned into his mouth as you continued to dry hump each other. but it wasn't enough. you needed him. all of him.

Diego Brando

- you hopped off your horse at the rest stop, not too far from diego who had settled his tent and was already inside. you hated to admit that you were one of those crazy fangirls of his, even going as far as to join the race for him. and luckily enough, he took some interest in you and took you under his wing.

- from there, the two of you have gotten close. he trusted you and you had gotten to learn so much about him. he was more than just a pretty face but any fan would know that right? he had told you stories others probably wouldn't know about and you grew to like him even more.

- he had invited you to his tent, your legs killing you from being stuck in the same riding position for hours as you wobbled in. diego immediately heard you the second he heard your footsteps outside, turning around to see your hunched form. "what the hell is your problem?" he looked you up and down.

- "sorry.. charley's horse." you chuckled, stomping your foot and wincing at each impact. "i'm glad we're settling in for the night. i can use a shower pretty soon." you lifted your arms up to get a whiff of your stench. yeah, maybe eating some chowder before this wasn't the best idea either.

- you got rid of your uniform, leaving you in a tanktop and loose pants. you failed to notice his eyes lingering on your form, he was watching you get ready for bed. and when you made eye contact with him, he huffed in response. "what's that look for?" you chuckled.

- "your muscles are tense." he pointed out. "you're such a nincompoop, how haven't you realized it." he sat up, gesturing for you to get closer. you didn't think twice to get closer, you moved in a heartbeat.

- he was gentle with his touches, a palm tracing along your bare shoulders and you let out a small sigh. you looked over to see him concentrated, his eyes not meeting yours but he was definitely leaning in to those noises you were letting out. it all felt so intimate, you felt like your dreams were coming true.

- "i need you." you blurted, leaning into his touches even as he stopped his movement for a second. he looked at you, his brows creasing slightly. you didn't want to ruin the moment but it was hard to ignore that delusional thought in your head with the way he looked at you. with that same hunger that you had for him since the very beginning. "help me out here. please."

- diego found himself laying down on his back with you on top of him. his hands caressed your back, bringing you closer as your lips danced and exchanges of spit trickled down to the corner of your lips. you pulled away with a breathy laugh and diego could barely keep his eyes open.

- "this is what you wanted, yes?" diego placed a hand on your hip to guide you just right above the tip. "now you can't think of anyone else. only me." he felt possessive but you didn't care. you wanted him to claim you as his, even as you slowly lowered yourself down and took him in. inch by inch your face turned and the muscles in your body flexed. but soon that was replaced with that warm feeling, him keeping you full as you fucked your frustration on to him.

- "faster." he breathed, both hands still on your hips as you bounced on him. never would he imagine to spend his night like this, at the rest stop where his tent was away from everyone else. you didnt need to worry about anyone walking in, not when you were both too enthralled with each other.

- "oh, fuck..!" you moaned, your thighs were burning but the pain felt too good for you to even care. you looked down to see him looking back up at you, his eyes were lidded but his lips parted the way you kept riding him.

- they save to never meet your heroes. but they never mentioned not banging them.

Tooru

- it was a long day working as a receptionist at the hospital. you dealt with all kinds of people, while seeing toru walk by in passing, him only giving you a little wave. you'd sigh to yourself, counting the hours of when you'll leave and be with tooru again. but alas, every hour that had past felt like an enternity. you were slowly losing your mind.

- on your last break, you stood up from your spot and stretched your limbs for a bit. you heard your back crack and sighed out of a relief before wandering down the halls to find tooru. as you turned around the corner, you coincidentally bumped into him.

- "oh cutie," his voice so light and airy chimed at you as he caught you midfall. "are you falling for me?" he teased. you smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a tight bear hug. "i missed you." you cooed into his ear and his smile only grew bigger. you didn't question how he was able to find you down these hallways, the hospital itself was already so spacious.

- "also i'm just super tired. my back has been killing all day." you told him once you had pulled away. his touch lingered, almost like he didnt want to let you go just yet. you didnt notice his eyes softening as you yawned, those dark circles forming under your eyes were becoming much more prominent. "but, what's new with you? are we done here?"

- "not yet." he gave your hand a squeeze. he played the part of a caring boyfriend all too well. "just hold on a little longer." he insisted, swinging your arms around gently. "please..?"

- "but.. tooru.." you whined quietly and his grip tightened in response, his stare was sharp but the smile stayed the same. "just one break then, yeah? you can't make me work without a break."

- tooru caressed your cheek, a small smile on his face. he was thinking about it, contemplating on just giving in. and he did, you were just so cute that he couldn't resist himself. those eyes looking up at him, your pouty lips and your hands clawing at his ruffled shirt.

- "ah.. you're too cute. how can i say no to that face." he purred like a cat when you pressed against him.

- and well, he pressed you by the wall of the closet when you snuck away. there was still other people here, you didn't want to get caught. or at least thats what you told him when you felt his hand slipping into your pants. "you're wearing that cute underwear that i like so much. so naughty, you wanted this to happen, hm?"

- "please.." your breath was shaky and he exhaled a small laugh through his nose. he was a tease, always wanting to draw things out to hear every possible noise you'd make. any reaction he was hyper aware of and would want you to repeat it.

- "so tense and stressed. oh, im so bad for making you work so much. tell me how bad i am, honey." tooru trailed a hand down to your waist and caressed near your thigh and hip. your mouth open but only a moan was let out when you felt him grope your ass. "you're bad..." you mumbled weakly and tooru let out a small, shaky sigh in response.

- "that's alright. all that hard work will be paid off, won't it?" he hummed, lifting the shirt over your head and you gasped at the cool air hitting your bare skin. "mm, so perfect. now don't make another sound, cutie. okay?"

Acca Howler

- he didn't want to make you work so hard but you insisted on helping him. you posed as some kind of secretary for him, keeping tabs on the stock market and products that his business would buy and put out. you didn't realize how much you like your job. you answered phone calls for him, planning and booking his flights, and organized meetings.

- on the flight to honolulu, you sat across from your boss who was drinking champagne and scrolling through his phone. your eyes were glued on to the blue screen of your laptop, the stinging sensation made you blink hard as you rubbed your face out of frustration. there was just so much to do and so little time, your brain was running on low fuel.

- "why the long face, sweetheart?" acca swirled the substance in the glass, the phone sitting on the arm rest faced down. he seemed a lot more interested talking to you instead of texting whatever big business guy was on his line.

- "there's just.. a lot to do." you admitted, no use in making up excuses. he could read you like a book and well, that was part of the reason why he liked having you as his assistant. his cute little secretary that he can shape into whatever he feels like you should be doing. and you were only a follower, his charismatic nature was alluring. you cared about money, after all.

- "oh yeah?" he smiled, sipping the last bit of champagne he had before setting it down with a sigh. "how about you take a break? you've been hunched over that same position since we got here. im surprised i don't see a hump in your back." he teased. you were not amused.

- "a break? but you told me you needed the papers by tonight." you stared at him. he hummed at this, resting an arm at the back of his head as he pondered up at the ceiling. "oh, did i say that? meh, forget about that. i need you rested up. can't have a cute assistant if they've got a hump." he joked once again.

- you wanted to roll your eyes at his comments, he always liked being unserious until he needed to be. you looked back down at your work before closing your laptop and leaned back against your chair. another hour left of this flight.

- his eyes burned into your skull, you can tell he didn't take his eyes off of you after that interaction. you turned your head to look back at him and he smiled when you made eye contact once again. "what?" you blinked.

- "are you bored?" he sat up, his voice hinting a slight mischievous tone to it. he was definitely up to no good and you weren't sure if you even wanted to find out. "all that work has left you empty handed, hm? forgot what it's like to relax and have fun?"

- "im tired." you crossed your arms, still giving him a stern look. he got up from his spot and made his way over to you, sliding right beside you with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. the gesture seemed friendly but you knew him all too well for it to be anything but just that.

- "i can help with that." he smirked and you stared at each other for a moment. you couldn't help yourself and wasted no time tackling him with desperate, needy kisses. your hands caressed his large chest, you even felt the chest hair when you slipped it under his shirt and he grunted into the kiss.

- you weren't ashamed to admit it wasn't the first time he had his way with you like this. normally you promised to keep the relationship professional, but after a few flirts and some drinks you were on each other like a moth to a flame.

- you loved that he knew your body so well, knowing every little spot that made you sing like a bird. you were quick to discard your clothes, not caring if the private pilot decides to come out of the cockpit to see your naked bodies. you just knew you needed him right now.

Always here to deliver 🗣️🗣️🗣️

Tags: Gender neutral reader, SFW, possessiveness and fluff (in a way?)

Dio Brando P1

- In Phantom Blood era, marriage for Dio is never about softness - it is about ownership, status, and proof that he has “won” something precious the world wanted to deny him.

- If you are human, he marries you only after you prove you are utterly unafraid of him and his power - someone who chooses him knowing exactly what he is, not a naïve victim. He finds that defiance intoxicating.

- If he is already a vampire, the idea of a “wedding” amuses him at first, until he realizes he likes the symbolism of binding you to him in front of others, like a public declaration that you belong to him forever.

- Setting is Victorian England, so the backdrop is all stone, gaslights, fog, and looming architecture; Dio either takes over a once-noble manor or uses his castle at Windknight’s Lot as the site, turning it into a twisted parody of a proper society wedding.

- The ceremony is at night, lit entirely by candlelight and ornate candelabras, more like a gothic mass than a church wedding: high ceilings, stained glass, shadows pooling around the pews, and a long aisle that feels like walking into a throne room. Everything is arranged to elevate him visually - he sits or stands above everyone, like a king rather than a groom.

- There is likely a trail of subtle menace surrounding the place: guests swear the air feels unnaturally cold, some people swear they saw “something” on the walls, and a few of the servants never show up again after the preparations.

- The guests are a mix of terrified nobles, bought-off social climbers, and hidden monsters; if he is already a vampire, some attendees are his subordinates or zombies dressed in finery, unnervingly still and obedient.

- The officiant is either a corrupt priest he has blackmailed or enthralled, or some “respectable” figure whose cooperation is guaranteed by fear - the man’s hands shake as he opens the book, but he does not dare flee.

- Dio’s “vows” are not tender - he promises to raise you above all others, to make sure you never suffer weakness or poverty, and to destroy anyone who would so much as think of taking you from him. Your part is less about promising love and more about openly choosing him in front of everyone, something he watches for with laser focus.

- You are dressed like a figure out of a painting: layers of lace, corsetry, long gloves, and jewelry that Dio either stole or acquired through dubious means - he likes seeing you drenched in the wealth he clawed his way up to get, as if you wear proof of his rise on your body.

- You are dressed like a figure out of a painting: layers of lace, corsetry, long gloves, and jewelry that Dio either stole or acquired through dubious means - he likes seeing you drenched in the wealth he clawed his way up to get, as if you wear proof of his rise on your body.

- He goes for a sharply tailored Victorian suit or frock coat in black or deep red, with a white cravat or high collar, looking more like an aristocrat or dark prince than a normal groom - everything about his outfit screams control and power rather than softness.

- The rings are heavy, ornate, and expensive, probably bearing an engraved motif like thorns, snakes, or a crest he intends to be your “new” family emblem - an attempt to overwrite the Joestar-like nobility he despises with his own symbol.

- The reception is opulent but uneasy: lavish food, live string music, and dancing that feels like a performance for Dio’s ego - people laugh too quickly and drink too much, because everyone senses they are in the presence of something predatory.

- Dio is startlingly attentive to you in public, almost theatrically gentlemanly - pulling out your chair, kissing your hand, guiding you through the crowd - partly to flaunt you, partly to remind everyone that this is the one person he will not tolerate disrespect toward.

- When you are alone, the tone shifts from grand spectacle to suffocating intimacy: he asks if you regret nothing, stares at you like he is trying to carve you into memory, and tells you that from this night onward, your fate is bound to his - whether that means ruling from the shadows as his human spouse, or eventually becoming something inhuman at his side.

Kars

- Kars sees human marriage as a small ritual compared to his quest for perfection, so if he gives it meaning, it is because he chooses to recognize your bond as something worthy of eternity.

- He frames it less as “till death do us part” and more as “you will stand beside the ultimate being as long as the stars burn,” turning the idea into a declaration that you belong with him beyond any normal lifespan.

- The wedding would be set somewhere that reflects both his ancient Pillar Man origins and his love of beauty: an immense stone temple or natural arena carved into a cliff, lit by moonlight and bioluminescent plants, surrounded by intricate carvings and murals of his people.

- The environment is carefully chosen to be timeless - high arches, ancient stone, a view of the sky so clear you can see the Milky Way - because he wants the place itself to feel like it could exist unchanged for millennia, just like him.

- Kars does not like crowds of humans, so at most, it is a very small gathering: only the other surviving Pillar Men, a few handpicked witnesses, or even just the two of you with the night as your only audience.

- If Esidisi, Wamuu, or Santana are there, Kars treats it as a rare, solemn occasion - they stand as silent witnesses, recognizing you as someone their leader values enough to formally bind himself to.

- Kars keeps his usual regal, almost statuesque look but elevates it: ornamental armor-like pieces, precious metals, and fabrics that echo his tribal and ancient heritage - something that makes him look like a god being crowned rather than a groom.

- Your attire is chosen or designed by him: something that flatters your form and moves beautifully in the wind, decorated with gemstones or motifs that reference his people’s art, making you look like the living embodiment of his “new world” ideal.

- His “vows” are straightforward but overwhelming: he speaks about how he has watched countless humans come and go, yet decided you are the one he will keep by his side as he transcends every boundary of life, evolution, and time.

- Instead of simple rings, there might be a more primal, ancient exchange: carved bands of stone or metal inscribed with Pillar Man symbols, a shared mark on your skin, or a ritual where you both place your hands on an ancient pillar to “record” this union in his people’s history.

- He may let a glimpse of his more monstrous, ultimate side slip through during the ritual - shifting his body in an elegant but terrifying display - to show that he is not hiding what he truly is from you, and that he expects you to accept all of him.

- Rather than a noisy reception, there is a quiet, almost reverent aftermath: walking through the temple grounds or along a cliff’s edge together while Kars explains bits of his long history he has never shared with anyone else.

- He makes it very clear - in word and in the way he touches you, protective and possessive - that from this point on, anyone who threatens you is, in his eyes, challenging the “ultimate life form,” and that is not something he allows to exist for long.

Dio Brando P3

- Dio sees marriage less as a human institution and more as formal proof that you belong to him above any god, Stand, or bloodline, the same way he seized Jonathan’s body and the Joestar fate for himself.

- He is arrogantly certain that no one alive is worthy of standing beside him unless they can endure his world of terror and glory, so the fact that he chooses you becomes another sign of his self-proclaimed “divinity.”

- He frames it as: “Even time itself will stop and witness that you are mine,” tying the idea of marriage to The World and his obsession with power, control, and eternity.

- The ceremony is set inside his Cairo mansion, in a space reshaped to look like a throne room - chapel: towering pillars, darkness broken by red and gold candlelight, and an aisle that leads not to an altar, but to his seat like a sovereign receiving fealty.

- The normal luxury interior is twisted into something decadent and ominous: velvet drapes, polished marble, and strange symbols carved into the floor around where you stand together, making the room feel like both a royal hall and a ritual chamber.

- Almost no one is allowed to witness it; most of his followers are beneath the occasion, and he considers their gaze unworthy of something so “intimate” and “sacred” between you and him.

- At most, a handful of trusted Stand users (like Enya’s ghostly presence in his mind, a tarot-like priest figure, or one or two elite agents) serve as silent witnesses, standing far back as if they’re attending the coronation of an emperor rather than a romantic ceremony.

- Dio leans into a regal, almost divine aesthetic: his already striking, beautiful appearance is embellished with rich fabrics - deep black and gold or blood-red and gold - accentuating that he is something more than human, with jewelry that looks like relics scavenged from dead kings.

- Your clothes are chosen to frame you as the counterpart to his self-styled godhood: dramatic silhouette, luxurious fabric, and an almost altar-offering vibe - something that makes it clear you are the one person elevated to stand at his side rather than kneel.

- Instead of gentle vows, he speaks like a conqueror-king: promising that your name will be etched into the new world he plans to rule, that every moment of history after this belongs to you and him standing above all others.

- As a “wedding ring,” he gives you something symbolic of his power - perhaps a custom accessory tied to The World’s motif, or an artifact marked with his crest - that marks you as untouchable under his protection and wrath.

- For one terrifyingly intimate moment, he stops time and draws you into that frozen world with him, letting you see the universe at a standstill while he murmurs that this silent, motionless eternity is the true witness to your union.

- The “reception” is more of a private audience: a dark feast in the mansion where any subordinate who dares attend must bow to you as well, learning very quickly that harming or disrespecting you is equivalent to challenging Dio himself.

- Later, when the mansion is quiet and Cairo’s streets are still, he likes to stand with you at a window or balcony overlooking the city, one arm around you as he talks about the future world he will reshape, speaking as if this marriage is the first step in rewriting destiny itself.

Kira Yoshikage

- He agrees to marriage only because it fits into his idea of a safe, stable, “normal” cover and because his attachment to you has grown into a craving he wants to lock into routine forever.

- He tells himself it’s practical - socially acceptable, harder for anyone to suspect him if he looks like a devoted spouse - but there is also a possessive undercurrent: the ring and papers are proof that you are his, neatly and legally.

- The ceremony is small and intentionally unremarkable: a tasteful but modest venue in or near Morioh, limited guests, nothing flashy - just enough flowers, music, and decor to look perfectly average in photos, the kind of thing no one remembers the details of.

- He chooses everything to avoid attention: neutral colors, simple arrangements, a short ceremony script, and absolutely no dramatic speeches or over-the-top displays; he wants people to think, “Oh, that was nice,” and then forget it.

- Only a tight circle of people is invited: necessary family, a few coworkers, maybe one or two acquaintances - no one who asks too many questions or likes chaos - the mood is politely warm but slightly stiff.

- Kira is charming but measured, careful not to show too much emotion - he smiles just enough, holds your hand, says the right words, but there is always the sense that he is curating the atmosphere like a perfectly arranged desk.

- Kira goes for a well-tailored suit, likely in light colors or soft tones, impeccably neat, with a tie or accessory that nods to his usual style - something that still makes him look like a refined salaryman blending into the crowd.

- Your outfit is something he quietly encourages: elegant but not loud, flattering yet not so striking that people focus on you for weeks afterward; he wants you to feel beautiful, but also safe inside his carefully built anonymity.

- During the vows, he keeps his voice steady and calm, choosing simple, traditional phrasing; he doesn’t like improvisation, but there are tiny moments - a softened gaze, the way his fingers linger around yours - that betray how intensely he actually feels.

- The rings are simple and classic, comfortable to wear every day; he’s slightly fixated on the way yours sits on your hand, occasionally brushing his thumb over it later like he’s reassuring himself that it’s still there.

- If he’s stressed, he might briefly rub his own ring or adjust his cuff as a grounding gesture, turning the symbols of marriage into part of his controlled, repetitive rituals.

- The reception is short and tidy: a sit-down meal, soft background music, polite conversation - no wild dancing, no drunken speeches - he’s relieved when guests start to leave and the noise level drops.

- His favorite part is when it is finally just the two of you in a quiet room or your new shared home: shoes off, jacket folded, the world shut out while he carefully hangs up his suit and then comes to sit beside you, looking at your ring with a faint, satisfied calm like a puzzle piece finally locked into place.

Diavolo

- He does not see marriage as romance first - it is a control mechanism and a binding, a way to ensure you can never fully leave his orbit, spiritually or practically. He is obsessive, paranoid, and terrified of losing what he has decided is his.

- On some level, he is disgusted by the idea of exposing this vulnerable attachment, so he insists the union be something private, secret, and almost ritualistic - something only you and he fully understand, never the world at large.

- A public wedding is out of the question - too much risk, too many witnesses, too much chaos he cannot predict. Instead, the ceremony feels more like an underworld rite: hidden, controlled, and threaded into his life as Boss of Passione.

- It might take place in a secluded, luxurious but tightly secured location - an old Italian church no longer in public use, a private chapel on an estate, or a candlelit room deep in one of his safehouses, heavy with incense, shadow, and stained glass colors spilling across the floor.

- Almost no one is allowed to attend; the fewer who know, the safer he feels. At most, there is a discreet officiant bound by fear or loyalty, and perhaps one or two trusted subordinates who understand how suicidal it would be to ever mention it.

- Even if his other self, Doppio, is part of your lives, Diavolo keeps the ceremony under his control - if Doppio appears at all, it’s in fragmented, confused pieces, with Diavolo reasserting dominance whenever anything feels too emotional or exposed.

- Diavolo’s attire amplifies his intimidating, almost ritualistic aura: dark, fitted, and expensive, with sharp lines and just enough color or pattern to echo his usual style - something that makes him look like both mafia royalty and an executioner.

- Your outfit is chosen to complement him: dramatic enough to feel ceremonial, but practical enough for a hasty exit if needed - rich fabrics, deep colors, and details that make you look like someone who belongs at the side of a king of the underworld.

- His “vows” are not soft or flowery. He speaks in low, steady words about how you are now tied to him beyond anything the law or church could define, that no one will ever touch what belongs to him without having their future erased.

- King Crimson’s presence hangs over the moment: he might skip tiny slivers of time around the vows so that certain words are heard only by you, never by the officiant or witnesses, as if he is carving out a private dimension just for this bond.

- Instead of simple rings, there might be dual symbols: a ring for the world to see if necessary, and a hidden mark - jewelry worn under your clothes, a scar, or a small shared token only you and he know the meaning of - that anchors you to him in a way no one else can decode.

- The “reception” is just a quiet, tense stillness after everyone else is gone: doors locked, guards posted far away, and Diavolo finally exhaling as the pressure of being seen lifts off his shoulders.

- In private, he is more physically close but still intense - fingers at your throat feeling your pulse, thumb brushing the ring or hidden token, as if reassuring himself that you are real, bound, and not a future he’ll have to erase to stay safe.

Enrico Pucci

- He treats the bond as sacramental before anything else: not just legal or romantic, but a covenant wrapped into his theology and his pursuit of “heaven,” where being with you becomes part of his divinely ordained path rather than a distraction from it.

- There is guilt and tension under the surface - he worries about attachment clouding his duty - so he resolves it by convincing himself that God intended him to walk this path with you, and that your suffering, growth, and love will all be tools for reaching his perfect world.

- The ceremony is held in a chapel - ideally a quiet, old one with high ceilings, stained glass, and the smell of candles and incense - somewhere that feels removed from the world and yet deeply rooted in faith.

- If his status as a priest makes a public wedding impossible or scandalous, he chooses a more private, almost cloistered setting: a side chapel at night, doors locked, only a few trusted witnesses and the presence of the divine as he understands it.

- The guest list is extremely limited: perhaps a few members of the congregation who respect him, or none at all beyond an officiant and you - the atmosphere is reverent, hushed, with more prayerful silence than chatter.

- People who attend feel like they are watching something both beautiful and unsettling - a priest whose faith is palpable exchanging vows that sound less like “happily ever after” and more like promises made under the eyes of a severe, watching heaven.

- Pucci’s attire leans heavily into his religious identity: clerical clothing or a formal dark suit with subtle religious symbols, looking every bit the composed, devout man of God even as he binds himself to you.

- Your outfit is elegant but modest in a way that fits the church setting: clean lines, soft fabrics, and maybe subtle religious or celestial motifs, making you look more like a partner in a pilgrimage than a fairytale spouse.

- His vows are deeply theological: he speaks about walking together through suffering, sin, and grace, about accepting whatever “end” God has set, and about loving you in a way that is supposed to mirror divine love - unyielding, unwavering, sometimes painfully demanding.

- The rings are simple but blessed; he insists on prayers over them, perhaps sprinkling holy water, turning them into tangible symbols of a vow he fully believes is recorded in heaven - and therefore cannot be undone lightly.

- There is an unsettling undercurrent when he mentions the future: he may allude to a time when the world’s gravity will change, when everything will be “made right,” and promises that your soul will be guided through that storm by his hand, even if the path is agonizing.

- The “reception” is subdued: maybe a small meal in a church hall or a quiet walk on the grounds at dusk - he seems relieved that the noisy part is over and is most at ease when it is just you, him, and the sound of distant bells or cicadas.

- In private, he is gentle but intense - fingers tracing your ring, murmuring prayers of thanks and protection over you - as if he is trying to seal this bond not just emotionally but spiritually, so that when he finally reaches his version of heaven, you will be pulled into that orbit with him, whether you are ready or not.

Funny Valentine

- He does not separate love from duty; if he marries you, it is because he believes you can stand beside the “ideal president” and that your bond serves his greater purpose for the nation, not just his heart.

- There is a possessive, patriotic twist to it: you are not just his spouse but a symbol - someone he plans to protect at any cost, even if that means using his Stand or sacrificing countless others to keep you and his dream intact.

- The wedding is formal and steeped in national symbolism: held in a stately building or grand hall, with flags, polished wood, and a layout that feels more like a state function than something out of a romance novel.

- He choreographs everything to project stability and dignity: a carefully chosen officiant, a concise ceremony, no chaos or unpredictability - every moment calculated to say, “This is the union of a leader and someone worthy of standing at his side.”

- Publicly, the guest list includes politicians, military figures, influential families, and carefully vetted media; the mood is patriotic, full of polite applause, and speeches about unity, destiny, and the future.

- Privately, away from the spotlight, the mood shifts; he drops the polished speech pattern and speaks to you in a more honest, intense way, making it very clear that beneath the public story, this is a deeply personal vow he expects to outlast every alternate world he steps through.

- Valentine wears an immaculate formal suit or ceremonial attire echoing his usual striped aesthetic - elegant, old-fashioned, and unmistakably presidential, as if he stepped out of a painting of historical American leaders.

- Your outfit balances prestige and intimacy: refined, tailored, and camera-ready, but with subtle personal touches he insisted on - a color, a brooch, a motif - that marks you as his rather than just an ornament for the cameras.

- His vows are eloquent and heavy with ideals: talk of “standing together through all possible histories,” “defending our shared home,” and “never allowing this country or this bond to fall to misfortune.”

- The wedding rings may incorporate national motifs - stars, stripes, or an emblem - turning your marriage into a symbol of the world he wants to protect - he watches yours slide onto your finger with a look that is equal parts tenderness and strategic satisfaction.

- D4C’s presence is felt like a pressure in the air; there is an unspoken implication that across multiple worlds, he will find you, choose you, and bind himself to you again and again if he has to, because this union has become part of his “correct” timeline.

- The reception has two layers: public toasts and smiles, then a carefully controlled, more intimate gathering with only the most trusted allies, where he relaxes slightly but still keeps one eye on the room and exits.

- When he finally gets you alone, away from cameras and witnesses, he is quietly intense - thumb brushing over your ring, voice low as he tells you that from this point forward, your safety and happiness are woven directly into the fate of the nation he’s willing to warp reality itself to protect.

Toru

- He plays it off like it’s no big deal - “just the next step, right?” - but the fact he agrees to marriage at all means he has quietly decided you are part of the future he wants to drag into his weird, calamity‑ridden orbit.

- There’s a possessive streak under the lazy charm: he likes the idea that you are officially “his person,” someone who will come back to him no matter how many subtle emotional landmines he leaves lying around.

- The wedding skews modern and understated, probably at a trendy but not too flashy venue - rooftop, minimalist hall, or chic restaurant - with lots of glass, warm lighting, and indie music that makes everything feel a bit like a Pinterest board come to life.

- On the surface, it is relaxed and stylish: fairy lights, simple floral arrangements, maybe a small live band - underneath, there are little glitches - minor accidents, weird timing, a glass shattering at the exact wrong moment - that feel like the universe tripping over itself around you two.

- The guest list is small but curated: some coworkers, a few old “friends,” people who know Toru as the vaguely unreliable but charming guy, not as someone tied to disaster itself.

- The vibe is casual, conversational, and just slightly off - people laugh and drink and post aesthetic stories, but a few guests leave with the inexplicable feeling that something about the night was…odd, like they brushed against bad luck and got away in time.

- Tooru goes for effortless cool: a well‑cut suit or semi‑formal outfit that looks like he barely tried but somehow nailed; his hair styled just enough to look good in photos without losing that “I woke up like this” charm.

- Your outfit matches the modern, airy vibe - clean lines, flattering silhouette, maybe unconventional details (colors, patterns, or accessories) that make you look like the main character of an artsy romance film.

- His vows are deceptively simple and honest‑sounding - talking about how you “make life interesting” and how he “doesn’t want anyone else at the end of the day” - but there’s a slightly unsettling subtext of, “You’re the one I want, so that’s how it is.”

- He slips in private comments only you can really parse, little callbacks to things you went through together that no one else would understand, using inside jokes to mask how intensely he’s actually tying himself to you.

- You can almost feel Wonder of U lingering at the edges of the day, not doing anything overt, but making certain mishaps occur with too-perfect timing - someone nearly tripping, a light flickering at a key line - as if the Stand is watching and acknowledging this bond.

- The reception is more like a long hangout than a formal party: drinks, chatting, some dancing if the mood strikes; Toru drifts in and out of conversations but always circles back to you, hand at your waist or fingers laced with yours, like he’s making sure no one pulls you too far away.

SYPNOSIS. They spend their lives saving the world, but with you, they finally get to let their guard down. 

FEATURING, Ochaco Uraraka, Momo Yaoyorozu, Tsuyu Asui, Mina Ashido, Kyoka Jiro, Toru Hagakure, Nejire Hado

TAGS: timeskip au, s/o is female, suggestive content (18+),

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ochaco.uraraka 🍡

Ochaco kisses like gravity itself has shifted—sweetly, warmly, and with the power to make you feel weightless.

There's always this moment before she kisses you where she gets this look on her face—determined but soft, like she's making an important decision. Her cheeks flush that pretty pink that matches her hero costume, and she bites her lip (which is incredibly distracting), working up the courage even though you've kissed hundreds of times before. Because Ochaco never takes this for granted, never assumes, always treats each kiss like it's something special.

"Come here," she'll say softly, and there's that slight accent that gets stronger when she's emotional, when she's feeling things deeply. Her hands come up to cup your face, and her palms are warm, slightly rough from training but gentle in their touch. She stands on her tiptoes (even though she hates being reminded of her height), and then her lips are on yours and suddenly nothing else matters.

Ochako's kisses are sweet and genuine, just like her. There's no pretense, no games—just honest affection that she pours into every press of her lips. She kisses you like you're precious, like you're important, like you matter more than anything else in her world. Her lips are soft and taste faintly of the strawberry chapstick she always carries, and they move against yours with enthusiastic tenderness.

When she deepens the kiss, when her tongue slides against yours, there's sometimes this flutter in your stomach—literal weightlessness as her quirk activates unconsciously. Your feet leave the ground just slightly, and she makes this embarrassed sound against your lips, immediately releasing her quirk and bringing you back down.

"Sorry, sorry!" she gasps, pulling back just enough to speak, face burning red. "I didn't mean to—you just make me feel so much that I—"

You kiss her again to stop her apology, and she melts into it, smiling against your lips. Because the truth is, you love when she does that, love the physical manifestation of how much you affect her, love floating in her arms like you're defying the laws of physics just by loving each other.

When Ochako really gets into kissing you, when her initial shyness gives way to confidence, she's devastating. Her kisses become more assured, more passionate. Her tongue strokes against yours with increasing boldness, and her hands slide from your face into your hair, fingers threading through the strands as she pulls you closer. She makes these soft, breathy sounds that make your heart race, little sighs and hums that tell you exactly how much she's enjoying this.

She's stronger than people give her credit for—all that training, all those hours perfecting her fighting style—and she uses that strength to hold you close, to press against you until there's no space between your bodies. When you run your hands down her sides, she shivers and kisses you deeper, her tongue dancing with yours in a rhythm that makes your head spin.

Sometimes when she's really lost in the moment, she'll activate her quirk on purpose, making you both float as she kisses you breathless. There's something incredibly romantic about it—kissing while suspended in air, gravity holding no power over you, nothing existing except the two of you and the feeling of her lips on yours. She'll spin you both slowly, her arms wrapped around your neck, her smile bright and beautiful when she pulls back to look at you.

"I love you," she whispers, and there's wonder in her voice, like she still can't quite believe she gets to say that, gets to have this, gets to have you. "I love you so much."

And then she's kissing you again, floating or grounded, it doesn't matter—because with Ochaco, you're always weightless, always falling, always caught in the gravity of her affection. Her kisses are like coming home, like safety and warmth and the kind of love that makes you believe in heroes all over again.

When you finally touch back down to earth (literally and figuratively), she's grinning that beautiful smile that scrunches her nose, eyes bright with happiness, cheeks flushed, and she looks at you like you hung the moon and stars just for her. And you'd do it too, if she asked. You'd do anything for Ochaco Uraraka and her gravity-defying kisses.

Getting caught making out with Toru, Mina and Nejire

A/n: To be fair, some of the masterlists being empty isn't because I haven't got any requests for them, but more because I thought it would be a good idea to introduce more fandoms while still doing a lot of older requests (it was not). Thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy!

Toru Hagakure

"C'mon, Y/N, it's not like anyone's gonna see us!"

"...I think that's easier for you to say than me, Toru."

You and Toru have just finished training for the day. With your bones aching, you and her were looking for a way to relax. When she dragged you to her room, you assumed Toru wanted to cuddle with you. However, your girlfriend's idea of "relaxing" turned out to be a lot more carnal in nature than most people.

Your train of thought is thrown off its rails by Toru's lips suddenly crashing into yours, her arms wrapping around your neck. You want to complain, but her lips are so soft that you can't help but kiss back. Toru pulls back from the kiss, a semi-transparent string of saliva hangs between you both.

"T-Toru, don't you think it's a little unfair for you to kiss me out of nowhere when I can't even see you?"

"Huh? Are you saying you don't like it?"

Even if you can't physically see her frown, the way her shoulders lower in disappointment is enough to make you give in.

"I guess...I don't mind it."

This is enough to make her immediately perk up again.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure it feels good for you too!"

"How s-"

This time you're cut off by Toru giving you a light nip on your shoulder. You have to put a hand over your mouth just to hide the moan from your classmates in the adjacent dorm rooms. Toru plants more and more hickeys around your neck, a red spot appearing out of thin air each time, as if they'd been left by a ghost. Her invisible hand gently guides yours from your mouth towards her chest as she runs her other hand down your torso.

"Is it ok if I kiss you again?"

As soon as you nod, Toru wraps her arms around your torso and the back of your head. She presses her lips to yours once more, her tongue slipping into your mouth and playfully sliding against your tongue.

Just as you close your eyes and start to immerse yourself in the moment, Kirishima bursts into the room.

"Hey, Y/N! Iida wanted me to tell you dinner's ready and-"

You and Kirishima stare silently at each other. You assume Toru is doing the same, but it's hard to know exactly where she's looking. At moments like this, you're slightly glad to have an invisible girlfriend. It's easier to hide the fact you were making out if no one can see her lips against yours, allowing you to play it off as a simple hug.

At least, you would be able to, if it weren't for the spots Toru left on your neck just moments before Kirishima entered. Spots that are currently as red as the boy's hair...and his face.

"I'm sorry! Please forgive me!"

Kirishima bows then quickly exits the room, shutting the door behind him. You can just barely hear him say something about being "so not manly" on the other side as he walks away.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I guess I forgot to lock the door."

"I-It's fine, Toru, but...is it ok if we just cuddle now? The mood's sort of gone for me now. That, and my body's still pretty sore from training."

"Of course!"

Toru pulls you down to the bed and cuddles into your chest. All the while, you can't help but think about how useful her ability to disappear would be right about now.

Mina Ashido

"Hey, Y/N! Check it out! Look how well I did!"

Mina proudly shoves her test result in your face. 75/100. Not the worst score imaginable, but between her statement and her wide smile, you'd think she got a perfect score. Though, in Mina's case, even this was a massive accomplishment for her.

Your girlfriend's intelligence, or lack thereof, isn't exactly a secret to you...or anyone in the class. After all, she did score the second lowest on the class's mid-terms. You tried time and again to get Mina to study, from withholding affection from her to bribing her with okra and natto, all to no avail. After your last attempt failed, you were all out of ideas. That was, until you came up with a last-ditch effort the day before a test.

"Hey, Mina. If you pass our next exam, I'll make out with you."

Honestly, you weren't fully serious when you said it, but from the way Mina's face lit up and immediately ran to her room to start cramming, she clearly didn't get the memo. You thought nothing of it at first, believing she'd only fail again and you'd have to coddle her to cheer her up (which isn't the worst way to spend an afternoon). What you didn't expect was for her to not only pass, but to get a pretty decent grade as well.

And so, here you are, with Mina in your room within minutes of receiving her score and eagerly awaiting her prize. You want to turn her down, to tell her that it was just a joke. But, considering this is the first idea of yours that's actually worked, you decide it's best to keep her in the dark for now.

You put your hands on your girlfriend's shoulders and press a kiss to her lips. She gives a light blush at first, one that's barely noticable against her pink skin, before passionately kissing back. Her tongue plays against yours, and as it does, you taste a slightly acidic tang coming from it. You'd assume this added flavour was a mere accident, if it weren't for the cheeky grin your girlfriend is currently giving you.

"How d'you like my new ultimate move, sweetie?"

Mina pulls away from the kiss to run her tongue down your neck. As she does, her tongue leaves behind the same taste of acid as she did on your tongue, as if she's marking you as her territory with her unique scent.

You run your hands through Mina's hair, while she decides to move her hands much lower down your body to your hips. If her words or her smile hadn't given away just how excited she was to claim her reward, her current fervent behaviour certainly did.

"Mind if I have another taste?"

Mina suddenly slips her tongue into your mouth again, making you stumble and instinctively move your hands from her hair to her horns to catch your balance. This causes her to let out a small moan into your mouth. Though, from the way it only makes her press harder against you instead of retreating, you get the idea she's into it.

Just as her tongue presses against yours once more, Sero enters your room without knocking, looking over his shoulder at something.

"Hey, Y/n. You should come see how angry Bakugo is getti-"

He cuts himself when he looks over to see you two making out. He completely forgets what he was talking about before to focus on you both. He puts a finger to his chin with a teasing grin.

"I didn't catch you two lovebirds at a bad time, did I?"

Rather than being embarrassed even slightly, Mina only goes along with his antics, putting an arm around your shoulders with a closed eye smile.

"What's the matter? Never seen a couple of cuties in love before?"

Sero waves his hand and goes to leave the room.

"Alright, I'll leave you alone for now. But seriously, you should check this out. It's hilarious!"

Sero exits your dorm, leaving you the only one flustered by what just occurred. After a few seconds of blushing, you come to a realisation and turn towards Mina.

"...Mina, did you forget to lock the door behind you?"

"Hey, I didn't mean to. It was an accident! Now, c'mon, are we gonna keep going or what?"

"Y-You seriously want to keep going?"

"Of course! I can't just throw my reward away after working so hard to earn it, can I?"

"...You're lucky you're cute."

Mina sticks out her tongue in a teasing gesture...then slips it into your mouth. You should probably come up with some other reward for next time.

Nejire Hado

"Hey, hey, you did great out there, cuddle bug! I couldn't keep my eyes off of you!"

"Y-Yeah, I know, my blueberry. I had to warn you about an incoming attack, like, three different times."

You and Nejire had just finished a shift as part of your internship at Ryukyu's agency. You managed to take down a tough villain, and to celebrate, Nejire pulled you into her dorm room before you even had a chance to change out of your hero costumes.

She simply gives a chuckle and a smile at your comment.

"Well, I think I know a way to make it up to you."

"What do you have in mi-"

Nejire cuts you off by ramming her lips into yours. Due to her high amount of energy, she almost always uses just a little too much force when kissing you. Although, the soft feeling of her lips and her body pressed against yours is usually enough to make up for it.

Nejire swirls her tongue against yours, almost in a similar manner to her Quirk. Then, it starts moving side to side, as if her curious nature has taken over and wants to explore every part of your mouth. This continues all the way up until you struggle to breathe and have to pull back for air, though Nejire still looks completely fine when you do.

"Hey, hey, are you ok, cuddle bug?"

"I-I'm fine, j-just need some air."

"Oops, I'm sorry, cuddle bug. I didn't go overboard again, did I?"

"A little, but...it's what I love about you, my blueberry."

Nejire's smile widens as she holds your hand in yours.

"Thanks, cuddle bug, I love you too! That's why I want to do this."

Nejire suddenly pulls your hand toward her breast. This alone would usually be enough to make you blush, but the way her skintight bodysuit clings to her form and accentuates her curves only makes it all the more flustering.

Just as you're about to say something Nejire suddenly wraps her arms around you and pushes you onto her bed. She plants her hands on either side of you, pinning you down, your hand still grabbing her chest.

"N-Nejire, what are you doing?"

"Hey, hey, we're both adults now, and we're almost at graduation, so this is ok, right?"

Nejire has a habit of making things most people would find dirty sound completely innocent, which ironically only somehow makes you blush even more when she says them.

"I-I guess, but-"

Nejire presses her mouth to yours once more, the pure pleasure of the feeling makes you too light-headed to argue any further. You start taking off your own hero costume to take your make out session to the next level when Tamaki walks in with his head down.

"N-Nejire, Mirio sent me to ask you if you w-wanted to train togeth-"

Tamaki looks up at you two about to do it, and his body tenses up and starts trembling.

"I...I wanna go home..."

Tamaki turns and quickly laves the room, causing Nejire to get up and call after him.

"Hey, hey, Amajiki, wait up!"

Nejire goes to follow him, then remembers what she was doing just before and looks back at you.

"I should go deal with him, but we'll continue as soon as I'm done, ok, cuddle bug?"

HUH...? PLAYLIST??

class 1a and their music taste

tw: my opinion

"guys.. i just got the most awesomest idea ever" kaminari exclaims as climbs up onto the couch in the common room, "lets make a playlist together!!"

"a playlist? thats actually a pretty good idea.." jiro replied "and awesomest isnt a word, dimwit"

gorillaz,panchiko,mgmt

denki kaminari's music taste developed heavily throughout the school year (he used to listen to white boy pop), a lot of the music he likes is from jiro, at first he listened to panchiko, gorillaz etc to impress her but he ended up liking them too, jiro still thinks hes faking ♡

lil hero, ayesha erotica, prime doja

mina ashido's music taste is centered around girly hyperpop, it keeps her moving and energizes her when she wants to breakdance, or when she wants to lift her/others moods. shes very accepting of all music taste's but she tends to make little jokes here and there about sad music ♡

sombr, gracie abrams, katseye...

mineta. he invited himself to the playlist, nobody wanted him to be there nor did they want him to add any music (except for sero and kami they vouched for him) they got rid of all the songs he added later

nujabes, king geedorah, dean blunt

shoji is calm and collected, his music taste reflects his personality, he prefers instrumentals and calm music ♡

king krule,mf doom,earl sweatshirt

katsuki bakugo likes british rap, but not british drill like central cee dont be mistaken, he likes artists like king krule. he often plays songs by these artists on the drums, he never, ever plays the drums for anybody else ♡

newjeans,illit,fifty fifty

ochako uraraka loves kpop!! her and hagakure meet up after school and chit chat inside hagakure's dorm with ochakos playlist in the background (ochako's playlist isn't actually on her phone, she has to borrow hagakure's whenever she wants to listen to music because her phone doesn't have music facilities) ♡

wave to earth, foo fighters, deftones

kirishima eijiro's music taste is very diverse, he could listen to literally anything, even country. he's like the guy to go to if you want someone to listen to this cool new song you found, he'll listen and he'll instantly add it to his 45 hour long playlist ♡

the official hero guide podcast

izuku midoriya doesn't listen to much music ♡

panchiko, paramore, linkin park

kyoka jiro loves music, her music taste isn't diverse but she likes indulging in different genres like kirishima does, but only because she feels like she needs to be open minded if she wants to advance in her music journey ♡

miyagi michio,goro yamaguchi,joe hisaishi

momo yaoyorozu's music taste reflects her expensive taste, she enjoys traditional japanese artists, but she is very open minded and has no complaints when listening to a different genre ♡

@saharascreams™

[ featuring ] ― toru oikawa

[ tags / warnings ] ― f!reader , fluff , established relationship , dramatic oikawa , praise-seeking behavior , teasing , lovestruck idiot syndrome , iwaizumi suffering in the background

oikawa had just finished one of the best matches of the season.

he was sweaty, exhausted, and running entirely on adrenaline as he jogged over to where you were standing in the crowd. aoba johsai had won, he’d pulled off several impossible serves, and he was already waiting for the praise he knew was coming.

except it didn’t.

No witty remarks, no playful winks, just stoic expressions and meaningless words.

Of course it had begun to worry you. The way he’d walk with slumped shoulders, eye bags adorning his pretty face. And it hurt you the most because you didn’t know what to say, what to do to make him feel better.

Because Oikawa Toru didn’t believe in venting, in opening up. He caged everything inside himself. Maybe he’d whine, complain. But all was said with a pout on his face with a teasing tone. So it was very unlikely to see him so down.

You and Iwaizumi being his best friends, did everything in your power for him to just say something, you less meaner than Iwa but you get the point.

For what seemed like the umpteenth time you walk yourself into him and Iwa’s apartment. It’s quiet and so glum. Something so unfamiliar from an apartment that’s always filled with light and laughter.

You pout, moving to open some blinds and windows. You immediately pause at the sound of shuffling.

You perk up, walking down the hallway and you hear it.

A muffled sob.

Your whole body tenses.

Oikawa sounds so broken. You can tell he’s doing his best to stop it all from coming out. But he’s already fallen apart and it won’t stop. You gnaw at your lip.

“Toru?” You whisper, you can hear a small gasp, his struggled hiccups. The door creaks open, but he isn’t facing it.

“What?” He questions like he wasn’t just sobbing his soul away.

“What’s wrong?” You say tenderly, doing your best to be gentle with him in his fragile state. He doesn’t reply and you reach for his hand, lacing ur pinky with his, tugging it.

“You know I’ll always be here for you.” You coo. He finally turns to you and he looks like a mess. Yet your eyes soften.

Oikawa thinks only you have ever looked at him like this. With such tenderness and adoration, even when he looks like complete shit. Because what Oikawa doesn’t know is you’ve loved him for so long and you’d do anything to help him feel even a little better.

“Let’s lay down hm?” You pull him to his bed, he immediately sits down, pulling a pillow in between his body, holding it tightly.

“You don’t wanna talk about it?” You glance at him, moving to brush his bangs out of his face. He sighs shakily, eyes beet red.

“I’m just, so tired. I feel so lost and this week has just been so stupidly shitty—and I even got a pimple!” He pouts, pointing to his forehead.

You internally light up at the way he seems to be talking freely, his eyes gaining that small glint as usual. You giggle.

“We can get that pimple treated really easily you know. Don’t worry your pretty little head off.” You narrow your eyes playfully. He smiles, it doesn’t fully reach his eyes, but it’s a smile.

“I know you like over working yourself, no matter how much shit me and Iwa give you. But be easy on yourself, you’re human like the rest of us and we all deserve a break.” You look at him sympathetically. He looks like a scolded puppy, fiddling with his hands.

“So why don’t you get some sleep. Make tomorrow a chill day. Just. Relax. No doing anything.”

“What’re you holding me captive?” His lips quirk up.

“I will if I have too.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad actually.” He grins, you playfully roll your eyes.

“Alright come on go to sleep.” You brush his hair once again. Before you could even stand up he speaking quickly.

“C-Could you stay?” You smile, humming in affirmation. He falls against his fluffy pillow and you do too.

“Thank you. Really.” He says softly, eyes locked on the pillow you’re laying on.

“Of course Toru.” You smile. He smiles back at you yet his eyes slowly fall close. His soft breathing soothing you to sleep.

The girls basically corner and attempt to interrogate him on how long he's been able to see hagakure perfectly and what he was thinking and stuff like that.

I say attempt because he's not intimidated at all, and if anything is kinda amused. Hell, one of his answers is about Hagakure's expressions and how he finds them adorable, and when asked about why he never told anyone anything, he gives a confused look and answers by saying "none of you ever asked?" Saying it like it was such an obvious answer to what they'd asked.

Lol brother is genuinely confused

[The girls of Class 1-A had formed what could only be described as a wall. Uraraka stood front and center, hands on her hips, Mina leaned in from the side, eyes sparkling with predatory curiosity, Momo tried—and failed—to look composed while clearly panicking internally, Tsuyu observed silently, eyes narrowed, Jiro crossed her arms, tapping her foot.]

[And somewhere in the middle of all of it was Hagakure. Y/N, meanwhile, blinked at the semi-circle surrounding him, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed. “…So,” Mina said, dragging the word out.]

Mina: You wanna explain?

Y/N: Explain what?

[Y/N asked cheerfully. Uraraka slapped her hands on the desk between them.]

Uraraka: DON’T PLAY DUMB.

Y/N: I’m not?

Jiro: We know you can see Hagakure.

[Y/N’s eyes slid—very deliberately—to where Hagakure was standing.]

Y/N: Oh. Yeah.

Mina: YEAH?!

[Mina screeched while Momo flushed red.]

Momo: H-How long?!

[Y/N hummed thoughtfully.]

Y/N: Since the first day, I guess.

[“THE FIRST DAY?!” Uraraka yelped. Tsuyu croaked softly.]

Tsuyu: That’s… a very long time, ribbit.

Hagakure: Y-Y/N?! You’ve seen me this whole time?!

[He smiled, completely unbothered by the chaos he was causing. “Mm-hm.” Mina grabbed his shoulders and shook him.]

Mina: WHAT DID YOU THINK?! SEEING A NAKED GIRL ALL THE TIME?!

[Y/N didn’t even flinch. He just waited until she stopped. “…Mostly,” he said slowly.]

Y/N: that Toru has really expressive eyes.

[…Huh?” Jiro said. He looked toward Hagakure again, smiling softly.]

Y/N: Like when you’re excited, your eyebrows do that little thing? And when you’re embarrassed, you scrunch your nose. It’s adorable.

Hagakure: E-EEEEEE?!

Uraraka: THAT’S what you noticed?!

[Momo covered her mouth, flustered beyond belief.]

Momo: Y-You weren’t… staring?!

[Y/N frowned slightly, genuinely confused.]

Y/N: That’d be rude.

[Mina stared at him like he was a cryptid.]

Mina: You are not normal.

Tsuyu: Agreed, ribbit.

Jiro: Then why didn’t you tell anyone?

Y/N:…Why would I?

[The girls collectively leaned in. Y/N tilted his head, thinking hard.]

Y/N:…None of you ever asked?

[He said it so plainly. So sincerely. Like the answer had been obvious the entire time. Uraraka slowly turned to Mina.]

Uraraka: I hate him.

Mina: I respect him.

[Mina said faintly. Hagakure, meanwhile, was making panicked invisible motions, hands flailing.]

Hagakure: Y-YOU COULD’VE SAID SOMETHING!

[Y/N looked back at her, puzzled but gentle.]

Y/N: You seemed happy. I didn’t wanna make it weird.

[Hagakure let out a muffled, high-pitched scream and bolted down the hallway. The girls stared after her then back at Y/N a few seconds later. Momo sighed deeply.]

Momo: You are… astonishingly dense.

[He smiled, completely unfazed.]

Y/N: I get that a lot.

Tsuyu: He’s not lying, ribbit.

[Mina crossed her arms, smirking.]

Mina: You’re never living this down.

[He chuckled, amused more than anything.]

Y/N:…Still don’t see what the big deal is.

[From down the hall, Hagakure shouted out.]

Hagakure: IT'S A HUGE DEAL, Y/N!!!

Y/N:…Huh.