I Love Men Who Look Like Theyve Been Through Some Of The Most Horrendous Shit Ever Sorry

before you start dating hajime’s face is always super blank around you. eventually his friends notice, because it’s different from his usual RBF, but it doesn’t really indicate… anything. and when they eventually ask him why he fuckin looks like that he turns red and spits out that he knew everyone could see what a total dope he turns into around you. and they realize that in his perspective he looks like he’s positively mooning over you

thinking about katsukis kisses perchance

he loves LOVES kissing your neck, he will attack it whenever he can. katsuki just puts his face into the crook of it, sometimes he'll just keep himself there and eventually lets his lips trail all over. ultimately, it's almost therapeutic as he feels like you're a rock in moments he's feeling tense. you'll feel the vibrations of his chest as he laughs if you mention how freezing his nose is when it's cold outside.

i like to imagine whenever you pull your lips away from his, he subconsciously follows and leans towards you getting closer, trying to go back in for another. he absolutely huffs and groans in frustration followed by "what?" or "c'mon. enough of that" if he knows you're doing it intentionally to mess with him-- knowing you've got him all worked up like this.

id think his lips get chapped easily as he tends to bite and gnaw at the skin, especially in the winter it gets bad when it's all dry. he'll let you put chapstick on him or vaseline with your fingertips. little indirect kisses on your fingers.

he is a sucker for shoulder kisses as well. at night as he climbs into bed after a long day and hot shower, he sometimes settles behind you with his chest to your back. he'll make some remark you're up too late as you're looking and laughing at something stupid on your phone, he presses kisses to the back of your shoulder, he tightens his grip around your waist as he tries to sleep.

iwaizumi hajime is lowkey the type of boyfriend to dive headfirst with you into anything you express any amount of interest in. you gush to him about your new favorite singer? you're both doing a deep dive into their discography on your next day off. make an offhand remark about wanting to try scuba diving? he's getting you both scuba certified and booking your next vacation on the seaside to try it out. get into a new piece of media? you're both up until 2am, reading countless silly fan theories. want to try your hand at putting on makeup on another person? he's your personal canvas, babe, go ham!

he won't hesitate to do anything... anything to make you happy, even for a second.

hajime is just... the most boyfriend ever

hii~ hope you're well! can i req no. 7&9 from list 1 for sieun! thankyou💗

a/n: late as hell but pls enjoy sjsj

♡

your head whipped to the door as you heard a knock. that's really weird- your guardian(s) weren't supposed to be home till a lot later in the night. you stood up and shuffled from the parlor and to the front door, carefully peeking in the peephole, fully anticipating some sort of psycho murderer, but instead being met with the boy you adored the most.

quickly unlocking the door, ushered him in and locked it behind him. "hey, didn't expect you to come over." he didn't respond, only placing his bag down on the floor as he pulled off his shoes. you walked over to the table to grab your phone before making your way over to your room, not looking behind you because you knew he'd follow.

it soon hit you that he hadn't said anything since he came. you checked the time and realized it's way, way earlier then he normally would get here, as his commute time was now more than double the amount it was before.

"you're really early today-" as you turned around, you immediately noticed the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "sieun?" you walked over to him, placing your hands on his cheeks. “what’s wrong?”

his eyes stared into yours before he simply shook his head, not wanting to talk about it. “okay,” you said, voice softer than a whisper before taking him into your arms. he gently reciprocated, his face naturally falling into the crook of your neck as the tears silently fell onto you, sighing tiredly.

you placed a hand on his head, brushing your fingers through his hair that you only now noticed seemed to be ruffled. when he finally pulled away with a frown on his face, you once again cupped his cheeks and kissed all over his face before placing a kiss on his lips, “i wish i could kiss all your tears away.”

he only gazed at you tiredly as you pulled his forehead to meet yours, the tips of your noses touching. “let’s go lay down, hm?”

♡

taglist (send an ask/comment to be added or removed!): @brxght-world @karyuliee @kkaesslovr @qtaisuu @midnightgyu @neteyams-wife @insomngyu @raybeomgyuu @wonnierkiz @venus-fly-trap105 (last two could not be tagged:( )

I have just realized that...

So yeah, if I were him..

..it would be exciting for me as well.

“boy dad Zayne”

summary: you and Zayne had a son whose personality is just like his dad’s ໒꒰ྀི ´͈ ᵕ  `͈ ꒱ྀི১

content: fluff, a baby!

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

the first time Zayne held him, he thought, he’s too small

too small for his hands, too small for this world

but when those tiny fingers grasped his own—tight, insistent, unyielding—Zayne realized something

this boy, his son, would be just as stubborn as him

—

“dada,” a small voice whispered

Zayne turned from his desk to see his son standing at the doorway, brown hair a tousled mess, big, familiar eyes blinking up at him

“mama’s in the kitchen” the boy continued, lowering his voice like they were discussing classified information

Zayne smirked, already knowing where this was going “is she?”

his son nodded, stepping closer “we should go now”

“are you sure?”

“yes,” the boy said, looking so serious it was almost comical “before she comes back”

Zayne sighed, pretending to consider. then he stood, holding his hand out

his son took it instantly

together, they moved silently through the house, past the living room, past the dining table—until they reached their destination

the kitchen.

“I’ll get the chocolates,” Zayne murmured, already reaching for the highest shelf “you go for the cookies.”

his son nodded, moving quickly, barely making a sound

Zayne had to bite back a smile. he really is just like me

“got them!” the boy whispered excitedly, holding up the stolen sweets

“good,” Zayne said, grabbing the chocolate bars “now let’s—”

“what do you two think you’re doing?”

they froze

slowly, Zayne turned to see you standing at the doorway, arms crossed, lips pressed into a firm line

his son immediately hid the cookies behind his back

Zayne, however, simply sighed “you weren’t supposed to be back yet”

“and you weren’t supposed to be stealing sweets before dinner” you shot back, giving them both the look

Zayne exhaled, exchanging a glance with his son

“we’re in trouble” the boy muttered

“very” Zayne confirmed

you stepped forward, taking the chocolates from his hands and the cookies from your son’s

“no more sweets,” you said firmly

“especially you” you added, flicking Zayne’s forehead

he smirked “I don’t know what you mean. I was just following my son’s lead”

“oh, so now it’s his fault?” you huffed

Zayne bent down, ruffling the boy’s hair “we’re in this together, aren’t we?”

his son grinned “yeah!”

you sighed, shaking your head “I swear, raising you both is exhausting”

“but you love us” Zayne teased

you rolled your eyes “unfortunately.”

—

when you got sick, they took it very seriously

Zayne didn’t leave your side, making sure you had everything you needed

his son, however, took it a step further

“mama, drink your tea” he ordered, standing beside the bed with his little hands on his hips

you smiled weakly “I will, sweetheart”

“now” he insisted

Zayne smirked, sitting beside you “you heard him”

you sighed but took a sip “happy?”

your son nodded, satisfied

“good,” he said “because dada and I have a plan.”

you raised a brow “a plan?”

Zayne crossed his arms “we’re making sure you rest properly. no getting up, no working, and definitely no sneaking out of bed”

you groaned “I’m not that sick”

“you are,” your son said, climbing onto the bed “and dada says you have to listen to the doctor”

Zayne smirked “he’s right”

you sighed, defeated

“fine,” you relented “but at least let me—”

“shhh,” your son pressed a finger to your lips

you blinked

“rest” he whispered

Zayne chuckled “you heard him”

you sighed again, lying back

Zayne pulled the blanket over you, pressing a kiss to your forehead

“good girl” he murmured

you rolled your eyes but smiled

your son snuggled into your side, holding your hand

“I love you, mama” he whispered

Zayne’s heart clenched

you squeezed his tiny hand “I love you too, sweetheart”

and Zayne, watching the two of you, thought—I love you both more than anything

—

one evening, you walked into the study and nearly melted on the spot

Zayne sat on the couch, a medical book open in his hands, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose

next to him, curled up against his side, was your son—holding a children’s book, wearing his little glasses, looking equally serious

your heart clenched

he really is a mini Zayne

they looked so alike—both absorbed in their reading, both adjusting their glasses at the same time, both so incredibly cute you could hardly stand it

you stood there for a moment, just admiring them

then, as if sensing your gaze, Zayne looked up

his lips curled “enjoying the view?”

you smiled, stepping closer “very.”

your son looked up too, pushing his glasses up his nose

“mama, we’re reading” he said, his tone so much like Zayne’s that you had to bite back a laugh

“i can see that,” you teased, sitting beside them “what are you reading, sweetheart?”

he held up his book “it’s about space!”

Zayne smirked “he insisted on reading something educational”

your son nodded “like dada!”

your heart melted

you ran a hand through his soft brown hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead

“you’re just like him, you know that?” you murmured

he beamed

Zayne raised a brow “and here I thought you’d say he looked like you”

“oh, he does,” you said, grinning “but everything else? that’s all you”

Zayne exhaled, closing his book

he reached over, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear

“then I suppose we’re both lucky” he murmured

you smiled, leaning into his touch

your son yawned, curling against Zayne’s side

Zayne sighed, lifting him effortlessly “time for bed”

“nooo” the boy whined, already half-asleep

you laughed “no arguing, young man.”

Zayne smirked “she’s right. come on”

he carried him to his room, tucking him in, brushing a hand over his hair

“goodnight, little one” he whispered

“goodnight, dada” he murmured sleepily

Zayne pressed a kiss to his forehead before stepping back

he turned to you, wrapping an arm around your waist

“now,” he murmured, voice low “shall I put you to bed too?”

you smirked “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

he chuckled, pressing a slow kiss to your lips

“always.”

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝑈𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑂𝑙𝑑 𝑅𝑜𝑜𝑚

★彡[ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ]彡★

When Bakugo’s mom told him he had to come home to celebrate his dad’s birthday, he knew he had no way out. Mitsuki Bakugo didn’t ask for favors; she gave orders. And this time, not only did she want her son there, but she made it clear you had to come with him too.

“Don’t even think about showing up alone, Katsuki,” Mitsuki’s voice had boomed over the phone. “She’s part of the family too, got it?”

The plan seemed simple enough: spend the weekend eating, cutting cake, and taking long naps in front of the TV. Nothing too wild. But everything changed the moment they stepped inside the house.

“Alright,” Mitsuki announced as she greeted them, crossing her arms. “Katsuki, your usual room. You, darling,” she said, turning to you with a much softer smile, “you’re sleeping in the guest room.”

“What the hell…?” Bakugo muttered, raising an eyebrow at his mom.

“Got a problem?” Mitsuki shot back, challenging him with a raised brow.

He opened his mouth to argue, but a discreet pinch to his side from you made him grunt and shut up.

“Fine, Mrs. Bakugo,” you said with a sweet smile. “No problem.”

Bakugo shot you a glare as he gathered his stuff grumpily, like a rebellious teenager being punished. He stormed up the stairs two steps at a time, grumbling in barely contained anger. When he opened the door to his old room, another growl escaped his throat.

The room was frozen in time: All Might posters, a shelf full of dusty comics, and in the middle of it all, a tiny bed that, at one point, might’ve been comfy. Now, his feet would hang off if he stretched too much.

“What the hell this is?!” he yelled, throwing his suitcase on the floor.

You leaned against the doorframe, holding back a laugh.

“This is damn a trap!” he complained, flopping back onto the bed. The frame creaked under his weight.

“Oh, I didn’t know it bothered you so much to not sleep next to me,” you teased, stepping into the room.

“Shut the hell up!” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Your smile widened. It was hard to take his anger seriously when his hair was all messy from the fall, and his expression looked more like a pouty kid than a fearsome pro-hero.

Without thinking much, you walked over to him and, in one smooth motion, sat down on his lap. Bakugo immediately tensed, like he was about to protest, but his hands instinctively grabbed you, settling on your waist.

“It’s not that bad,” you murmured, running your fingers along his jawline. “Could be worse.”

“Oh yeah? How?” he spat, though his voice had lost some of its edge.

“They could’ve made you sleep on the couch,” you replied with a light laugh, leaning in to brush your forehead against his.

Bakugo let out a low grunt, this time much less irritated, and leaned his forehead against yours. Up close, his red eyes seemed much warmer, glowing with a playful gleam.

The kisses started innocent, just small playful touches on the corners of your lips. But with Bakugo, innocence didn’t last long. His demanding mouth found yours, pulling you into a hungry kiss, full of desperate need. His tongue brushed against yours in a possessive glide, demanding your surrender, while your breaths mixed in soft pants.

His large, warm hands didn’t waste any time slipping down your back, touching you with firm, determined caresses. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you sharply until you were sitting completely on him, his rock-solid body pressing against yours.

Bakugo let out a low growl of pleasure when his hands moved lower, shamelessly landing on your ass. He squeezed it with force, as if it was his—because to him, it was—molding the flesh between his fingers without a second thought while he continued to devour you with kisses.

“Damn...” he murmured against your lips, his voice hoarse with desire. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

His lips trailed down to your neck, leaving wet kisses and small bites that made your skin tingle. At the same time, his hands kept roaming your curves, caressing you with a dangerous mix of tenderness and barely contained hunger. Especially on your ass, which he kneaded with a devotion that made you sigh in pleasure.

Every time you shifted slightly on him, seeking more friction, Bakugo let out another approving grunt, his hands holding you even tighter, his lips claiming every inch of exposed skin as if he wanted to mark you as his.

The kisses grew more intense, spilling into desperate touches and murmurs full of desire. Your legs still over his lap, your fingers playing with the edge of his shirt while his lips found yours over and over, between soft bites and muffled laughs.

“Damn, you like teasing me.”

“Me?” you responded with fake innocence, leaving a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Could it be that you're just too easy?”

“I’m gonna—”

He never finished the threat. Suddenly, footsteps sounded in the hall, firm and way too close. Both of you froze, as if caught stealing in the middle of a crime scene.

Bakugo’s reaction was immediate: his face paled slightly, his eyes widened for just a second—Shit, it’s my mom!—and without thinking twice, he grabbed you by the waist and shoved you off his lap like his life depended on it.

“Hey!” you managed to complain in an urgent whisper as you fell flat on your ass with a muffled thud.

Bakugo barely threw you a warning glance, then put a finger to his lips to signal for silence. Then, like a reflex, he grabbed your arm and dragged you under his bed.

“What the hell, Bakugo!” you whispered furiously, the cramped space making you smack your forehead against one of the low bed slats.

“Shut up!” he hissed at you in a fierce whisper, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and adrenaline.

It was ridiculous: just minutes before, he had been whining about being treated like a kid... and now he was hiding you like a teenager caught breaking the rules.

"I can’t believe this... I’m a damn Pro-Hero, and I’m hiding my girlfriend like I’m fifteen," he thought, sweating cold as he heard the doorknob turn.

The door opened slowly, and who stepped in wasn’t Mitsuki—much to his relief—but his dad, Masaru Bakugo, wearing his usual calm expression.

“Katsuki,” his dad greeted, poking his head into the room without suspecting a thing. “We need to go grab a few things for tomorrow. When you’re done settling in, there’s dinner in the fridge, alright?”

Bakugo nodded stiffly, crossing his arms with all the seriousness he could muster.

“Alright…”

Masaru smiled, about to leave, but then seemed to remember something.

“Oh, and Y/n?”

For a moment, Bakugo nearly had a heart attack. Cold sweat ran down his neck. From the floor, you could see his jaw tighten, his red eyes darting quickly as he thought of an excuse.

“In the bathroom,” he blurted out quickly, as naturally as someone who lies every day.

Masaru nodded, not giving it much thought.

“Okay, see you later,” he said with a friendly wave before closing the door quietly.

Bakugo waited several seconds in complete silence. Only when he heard the footsteps fade completely did he let out the breath he had been holding.

He crouched down, lifting the mattress slightly and poking his head out toward you.

“Can I come out of hiding now, boss?” you whispered sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, but there was a slight curve at the corner of his lips, a smile he couldn’t hide even if he wanted to.

He extended his hand to help you out from under the bed, and when you were standing, you didn’t miss the chance to laugh softly.

“Weren’t you the one who didn’t want to be treated like a kid?” you teased, smug.

Bakugo snorted, crossing his arms like it would protect him from your teasing.

“Tsk! It’s not the same, damn it.” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his cheeks still slightly flushed. “I’m not giving my mom a damn reason to lecture me all night.”

“Sure, sure…” you moved closer to him with a mischievous smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Still, it was cute seeing you panic.”

“I’m not cute!” he protested with a grunt, but his arms had already slid around your waist, pulling you back into him.

彡[Masterlist]彡

Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.

"It's just a TV show" maybe to you. I absorbed it into my soul though.

i am NOT done yapping about how in love husband! katsuki is with his dear wife.

you were curled up on the couch later that night, katsuki’s arm draped around your shoulders while you scrolled through twitter again. he was half-asleep, head tilted back against the cushions, soft breaths leaving his lips.

just as you were about to close the app, another tweet popped up on your feed— one that made you freeze.

original tweet: "yeah babe gimme a minute, js fighting crime rn"

underneath was a blurry, mid-action shot of katsuki during a recent mission. in one hand, his phone was visible, screen lit up, while his other hand was mid-explosion, sending a villain flying backward.

the kicker? he was grinning at his phone. not his usual battle-hungry, determined smirk. no, this was softer. goofy. a full-blown, lovesick idiot smile.

the kind of smile he only ever gave you.

"oh my god. katsuki," you whispered, shaking his arm. "wake up."

he groaned, cracking one eye open. "what now?"

you shoved the phone in his face. "explain."

he squinted at the screen, brow furrowing. his jaw immediately clenched when he recognized himself in the picture.

meanwhile, twitter had already decided:

- "hero of the year goes to dynamight for texting his wife while fighting crime."

- "bro’s out here fighting for his life and still prioritizing his girl. goals."

- "im jealous. getting a text back while he's FIGHTING VILLAINS IS CRAZYYY"

his mouth opened. closed. then he groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. "shit. didn't think they got that on camera."

"you didn’t think holding your phone in the middle of a fight would get caught on camera?"

"i was multitaskin'!" his ears were bright red.

"oh, for fuck's sake," you huffed, half-frustrated, half-melting into a puddle of affection. "is this why you said 'one sec babe, busy' that one time like you were busy with, oh, i don't know, paperwork instead of fighting a damn villain?"

"i had it under control," he grumbled, running a hand over his face. "was just checkin’ in on you."

"checking in?" you echoed, laughing. "you were literally detonating someone with your other hand!"

he groaned. "s’not my fault. needed to text my girl. s'not a crime."

your heart stuttered. "while fighting villains?"

"yeah, well...ya texted first."

you blinked. "so this is my fault?"

"yeah," he crossed his arms, cheeks turning pink. "maybe if ya didn’t make me smile like a fuckin’ idiot, i wouldn’t get caught slackin’. you seemed excited over something... figured you'd wanna talk."

your heart stopped for a second, warmth flooding through you.

"you’re such a dumbass," you said softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. you leaned up, wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling into him. "missed me that much, huh?"

he huffed but didn’t stop you, his arms tightened around you, his embarrassment giving way to quiet satisfaction. "yeah, yeah. always miss you."

and the next time you texted him during work, you made damn sure to add:

"don't text back. fight the damn villains first."

he didn’t listen, obviously.

"they can wait. they know how important my wife is."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

now playing: nonsense, sabrina carpenter

0:20 ─ㅇ───── 2:44

♡‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿ ♡

  you said you like my eyes and you like to make em roll ! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

percy jackson x browneyed!reader

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

percy looms over you, his eyes flickering over your features. there’s an uncommon silence settled between you as he toys with a strand of your hair. his other hand is occupied by clutching yours, and your hands rest atop your bed, tangled together.

“i love your eyes,” he says finally, to which you roll them.

“you tell me that a lot,” you remind him, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles where your hands lay conjoined against the sheets.

percy laughs, and a wave of comforting warmth passes through you.

“well, i mean it. so there.”

you scoff.

“that’s not a good argument-“ 

but before you can finish your sentence, he’s leaning up to kiss your forehead, and you don’t protest.

after a considerable moment, you speak up again. “i don’t get why you love them so much.”

“what? your eyes?” percy tilts his head. you nod yours.

“they’re boring. just..brown,” you say with distaste.

“you’re kidding. they’re *beautiful,* have you seen them in the sun? they literally turn, like, orange and gold and pretty. How could you not admire that?” he rambles on, flashing you a smirk when he’s done.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“i’d like to call it ‘being right’, but ridiculous works fine, too.”

you roll your eyes again, and percy grins. you could swear his grip on your hand gets just a touch tighter.

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

aaa hi im sorry i dont write often so my apologies if this is repulsive or ooc💔 i just love my silly boy and i couldnt get this idea out of my head!!