His Fantasy!au Design Is Something..

“you fucking that old man?” until his hips fucking shatter, baby!

To those who recently send request

1) thank u smmm bc I have had no motivation to write and this is helping me !!!

& 2) I’ll try to have them out by tonight / tmrw night :)

get a taste // tomura shigaraki

a/n: in the gc talking abt vape and cig discourse between dabi n shigs -> fujos out a bit -> wait this is kinda hot -> sick n twisted brainrot aaaahhh

you reach over and press your index finger right in between his eyebrows.

there's nearly nothing that could melt that scowl from tomura's face- especially when everyone's behind him obnoxiously crowded around the bar with playing cards and drinks in hand, the music's a bit too loud for his liking, and he's having a hard time focusing.

"tomura, i can't take you seriously with that thing attached to your mouth like a fucking binky." you call over the music, dropping your hand back into your lap.

his eyes slowly travel up from his phone screen to meet yours. you weren't even sure if he caught anything you said over the blaring music, but you could still read the irritation in his face. his gaze flickers back and forth between the clash of clans running on his phone and you.

he blinks once. twice.

tomura drops the vape from his mouth, letting it fall into his lap, and without missing a beat, blows the intoxicatingly sweet smoke into your face, engulfing you whole with a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.

"better than whatever the fuck you're smoking over there, right?" he nods towards the half smoked cigarette in between your fingers that you stole from touya's pack.

"better?" you roll your eyes, waving away the lingering smoke. "grow up, tomu. you're smoking birthday cake flavored nicotine. you haven't even smoked a cigarette before."

"i don't need to smoke it to know it tastes like shit." he stretches his legs over your lap, leaning back against the armrest of the couch.

you turn your hand around, facing the orange filter of the cigarette towards him. with your eyebrow slightly cocked and mouth parted into a smirk, tomura knew it was less of an invitation, but rather a dare. a challenge.

"go ahead, babe. give it a try if you're not a bitch."

tomura wets his lips with his tongue. his gaze drops down to the lipstick stained orange filter hanging from between your fingers. he wonders if he could taste your chapstick residue on it, or what your skin smells like brushed against his nose.

would you put your lips on it right after his drag? willingly taste him?

he silently cursed himself.

"pass." he scoffs, turning his head to the side, unsure if the heat crawling up his neck had taken form in a flush. 

he was halfway surprised that you hadn't noticed his piercing stare every time your lips wrapped around the cigarette for a drag. he swore the desperate look in his eyes was so obvious- a silent wish that it was him between your lips instead.

you press your lips together in a line as you take another glance around the room. everyone seemed occupied. drunk. sloppy. no one's paying attention.

you lean forward, catching his face in your free hand, and forcing him to look up towards you.

"the fuck-" he starts.

"don't freak out, tomu." you interrupt. "you know what to do."

you hum to yourself as you bring your fingers up to your lips, deeply inhaling the bitter tang of burnt tobacco.

your eyes remained locked onto tomura's. he's looking at you in a sickly satisfying horror with his eyes wide, cheeks flushed, and mouth slightly gaped open from your firm grasp on his jaw.

he squirms a bit under your grasp, but tomura doesn’t look away from you- he doesn't dare to. not with you over him like this and your face only inching closer to his.

you pull yourself down over him, mere millimeters away from connecting your lips.

the smoke slowly wisp out of your mouth and into his- a slow acceptance before both of your eyes flutter shut and you empty your lungs into his. 

you feel his hands climb up the side of your thighs and rest on your hips, lightly squeezing you through the fabric of your pants.

"fuck." he mutters, trails of smoke escaping his mouth.

"yummy?" you chuckle, exhaling any remnants of smoke in your lungs.

it doesn't seem like you care or noticed at all, but all tomura could think about was you straddling him on the couch and your warm thighs hugging his torso.

he felt hot all over, his lungs were burning, there's a bitter taste in the back of his throat, his head feels light, and despite it all, he wanted more.

"do you, um, wanna taste mine?"

-

mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0

﹒₊‧midoriya is the best to take care of you when your sick.

growing up with just his mother he's learned a lot from her. in my head this means that he is a really good caretaker and knows just what to do to make you feel even a little bit better. <3

when he hears you're sick he comes by before school, on his lunch break, and right after school to check on you. he brings you your favorite soup and and brings you a big thing of water to drink. he sets up a little station with an electric tea kettle with water and herbal tea, over the counter medicine to help with the fever and a bucket of ice to cool the wash cloths. he puts your hair up (bc having hair in your face while your sick and sweaty is the worst) and places a cool washcloth on your forehead and lets it sit before gently wiping it around your face, under your eyes, down your nose, across your cheeks & behind your ears. izuku is at your beck and call during this time. if you need absolutely anything just text him and he'll be sprinting over. ofc he gathers all your work from classes you missed even if they were out of his way, and when ur better he does his best to help you out with some of it, considering you missed the lessons.

basically izuku midoriya is the best boyfie (2nd to sero)₊‧

<a/n: i'm currently sick, covid :(, and i had a dream abt this>

I just want to talk about how much I LOVE, and I mean LOVE, Kyoya Ootori, from Ouran Highschool Host Club. It was one of the first anime’s I felt I could watch over and over again, I could memories each line by heart and never forget. The kind of anime that made me cry when the series finally ended in its manga form.

And Kyoya remains a character that I will remember being a character I will forever love, He’s aloof, the cool-type, someone with daddy issues, filthy rich, smart, a smart ass, and hot asf. He’s everything in one beautiful wrapped package. Although realistically he would not notice me, I would be all over him…

braid my hair f’ me (miles morales x blk!reader)

— the thoughts have been thunken. I thunked the thoughts

— made em real cute for y’all

— ⚠️: cursing, reader n miles being silly goof balls

the night was peaceful, with sounds of the city blaring outside of your open windows. you found yourself turning to your boyfriend to tell him all the gossip happening within your school, and he was actively listening and engaging with you in conversation. you showed him pictures on instagram of the people you were talking about so he could keep up with names and visuals, and it wasn’t until near the end of your gossiping when you realized miles stopped responding.

it looked like he’d zoned out completely, just looking in front of him with his eyebrows furrowed.

"baby?" you asked, snapping your fingers in his face.

like a wake up call, his head bobbed up to look at you with wide eyes. "hmm?"

"are you ok, think lost you for a sec," you snorted. miles contorted his face as she shook his head stuttering.

"it’s nothin' I jus- I mean- you think- ugh," miles groaned as his head flew back.

"it’s ok take your time," you teased with a small giggle. if miles was struggling to tell you something this hard, it was probably extremely embarrassing or he did something. you’d hoped it was the latter.

he sighed as he mumbled with his head hung low, "that guy— Tristan— you think his braids would look good on me?"

you looked at with unbelievably wide eyes and a look on your face that screamed "you’re joking." and it was in that moment you realized; oh my god, miles morales wants to get his hair done.

"y’know, I thought this day would never come," you mumbled looking at the ceiling.

you heard him suck his teeth and you looked back at him to see his back turned looking away from you bashfully. miles had never been bashful before.

it was then when you began to giggle uncontrollably. you leaned into your bed frame from where you were on the floor, and you just couldn’t contain your fit of laughter. once he thought the laughter had settled down, he asked, "yeah y-you done now?"

this only set you into another short-lived fit of laughter. you were laughing so hard and so loud, that miles swore your parents could hear you from downstairs.

soon enough, you were panting and coming down from your high only to face an unamused miles with his back facing you. you crawled over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind.

"you know… I can braid your hair," you chirped. he looked back to see the side your face smooshed into his back with a grin.

after a beat of silence, you heard a soft "hm" from miles.

"that’s not a no," you said as you poked his shoulder. he thought about it for a second, whether or not it was a good idea to let you do this.

for the few months you guys have been dating he wouldn’t let you touch his head, claiming to be tender headed and that the only person allowed to braid his hair was his mother. he said that she had “the touch.”

"she’s just the only person who’s soft on my head!"

"miles have you ever even gone to anyone besides your mom?" you asked in disbelief.

"…no"

since then, you’ve let it go after much teasing and humiliation towards your boyfriend.

"imma just ask my mom if she’ll braid it—"

"milesss c’monnnn! I swear i’ll get you looking right and I won’t grip too hard. please?" you pleaded. you hooked your finger under his chin to guide his eyes to your pleading one’s. for a second he looked unamused, but then you swore you saw his lip twitch upward.

"ok, fine. I will allow you to braid my hair just this once." baffled were you at this sentence as you pulled away from him.

"ALLOW ME?! baby say it with your chest, you know damn well you WANT me to braid your head," you sassed.

he chucked, "actin’ like you ain’t just beg me to let you braid my hair-"

"ahhhhh that never happened! I am erasing your memory, that never happened. you WANT me to braid your hair," you quickly said as you rubbed his scalp imitating mind control.

miles laughed as he grabbed your hands as he led you to the bathroom with him.

after making miles sit in a chair for 15 minutes under your sink, and running shampoos and conditioners throughout his scalp, it was time to blow dry.

you sat him down in your bedroom near your dresser with all the supplies laid on the table.

miles shifted uncomfortably in his chair and he kept looking back at you plugging in the dryer with worry in his eyes.

"miles, the blow dryer will not blow you away. you have nothing to worry about," your voice dragged. you watched in amusement as he dragged his hand down his face and a deep sign came from his mouth.

not turning the dryer on just yet, you got to work on parting his hair into fourths, clipping back sections as you went on. finally, it was time for my miles to face his biggest fear; the blow dryer.

he heard the whirlwind sound as soon as you flipped the switch. he winced once he felt the warm air coming to his scalp, "WAIT!"

"lord have mercy," you said over the blow dryer. you turned it off completely. "what is it miles?"

"w-what about heat protectant?" he stuttered as he puffed out his chest. you sucked your teeth as you walked to your bathroom to find heat protectant. you could hear miles’ soft sigh as you left the room.

walking back with the spray, you sprayed miles head as you told him, "you know the faster we blow dry, the faster all of this will be over right?"

"alright, alright-" he threw his hands up in defense and tilted his head. "-simplemente no tires demasiado fuerte por favor."

you squinted your eyes in thought as you tried to translate in your head, and after a second you understood.

"you have nothing to worry about, I got most of the tangles out of your hair when washing. this should go smoothly."

and smoothly it did… except for the fact that miles couldn’t stop bobbing his head all over the place. you kept having to grab his head to keep it upright with the blow dryer. "miles keep still, jesus!"

"what d’you think i’m tryna do?"

once blow drying was over, you turned miles head up to face you looking down at him from his sitting position. "that wasn’t so bad now was it?"

"hmm nooo," he groaned. you bent down to meet his lips for a small kiss, thanking him for his (very difficult) cooperation.

taking his hair out of all the clips, you got to parting six equal sections of hair to braid. as you parted you made sure to add zig-zag patterns with your comb, just to give his braids a little flavor. as you clipped off the sectioned parts of his hair to start braiding you checked to see if miles was okay to start

"you ready baby?" he said nothing.

"miles?" you asked again. when you heard no response, you walked over to check on him. what you saw was truly a sight to behold—

there was miles, shut eyed and breathing slowed with his mouth slightly opened. "I made him fall asleep," you thought to yourself. quickly, you stumbled over to your bed and found your phone. snapping a picture of him in this state, you giggled as you went to instagram to edit in a pink heart next to him and save it at your new lock screen.

swiftly placing your phone on the dresser along with all your hair supplies, we went back to doing his hair. you opened up some hair grease and gel as you went to work.

"miles," you shook him awake. "miles, baby wake up."

stirring out of the deep slumber you put him in, he stretched his long limbs as he looked around for a second confused.

"finished?" he asked groggily. you noticed his voice was scratchy and deep, still laced with sleep. you turned him around in his chair for him to come face to face with your dresser mirror.

his eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed to make a small "o" shape as he looked at himself in the mirror.

running his hands across the top of his head he exclaimed, “damn mami.”

"eek-! you like them?" you smiled as you bent over his chair to wrap your arms around his neck.

"of course I do, these are clean," he answered. he turned his head to face your cheek as he kissed you.

"ouu lemme take a picture," you said. you grabbed your phone from off the dresser. you unlocked the phone, but before you could open the camera app, miles caught a glimpse of your lock screen.

"um-! when the hell did you take that??"

— i am an avid user of the pink heart emoji

— 🩷

— took me a while to decide whether or not I wanted this to be an e42 or e1610 miles fic 😞

— tbh it could easily be both

— @laylasbunbunny @ulovejayy @all444miles @nagi3seastorm

Ahhhhhhh😆😆😆😆😆

★﹒₊‧types of crushees they are

sero hanta is very relaxed and composed around you in a big group but once y'all are alone or secluded in any way, boy is a mess. prays you don't try to talk to him bc he will not be able to respond or will say something totally irrelevant or odd in the conversation. hell then stay up at night thinking of how utterly STUPID what he said was. he thinks you guys are soulmates because you always run into each other at the most random times. coming back from the bathroom, walking back to the dorms after shower, in the kitchen, etc..

izuku midoriya thinks he's pretty lowkey. he has this idolized version of you in his head where he thinks your so cool and pretty (u are) that you couldn't possibly have any idea who he is. (like babe ur literally one of the top hero students, ik who u are) he becomes completely flabbergasted when you say his name or talk to him in any sense. baby will just stand there like "you know who i am?" kinda stalks you but he swears it isn't on purpose. he just knows what days you like to go to a certain cafe and study alone and what days you spend a little extra time in the library. if you work somewhere he'll definitely go on your shifts but will not at any cost interact with you other than maybe you taking his order or something. also when y'all do talk, he either doesn't say a single thing or talks a mile a minute.

i honestly do not think bakugou is meaner or nicer to you when he has a crush on you. actually no, he's nicer but he doesn't understand why his instinct is to do so. (in denial of his feelings 101) he isn't as observant as izuku but he still notices little things that you prob don't even notice abt yourself. he knows his whole personality is more of an acquired taste so to speak, so when he does something like yell or curse in your direction, he's looking to see what your reaction is. if you laugh, roll your eyes, jump, or just ignore it entirely. he doesn't actually do anything about all these observations until you guys are dating but that's a future bakugou problem.

TAYLOR SWIFT | The 1975 concert 1/12/2023 via Huxley

— hq boys as soft, flirty moments

♡ suna r., atsumu m., osamu m., oikawa t. -> hq masterlist

♡ missed writing for them (suna) so much

— suna’s palm flattens itself against your lower back, he brushes past the crowd and bends down to lowly speak into your ear. a compliment can barely be heard over the blaring music but a heat spreads through your body nevertheless at the smirk that’s spread itself on suna’s face.

— atsumu is always asking for simple favors. only for his hands to wrap around yours when you hand him the waterbottle, or the remote, or his phone…he can’t help it, really, he just gets a little nervous around you and forgets how to flirt.

— osamu has made it a habit to bend down and give you a kiss on your cheek every-time you leave a gathering. he’s very slick with it, the action almost unnoticeable to everyone. well, everyone but atsumu, who shoves his twin and whispers, “make a move already, dumbass.”

— oikawa’s gaze meets yours. the group continues to laugh at a joke he’s made and yet the only reaction he really cares about is yours. you give him a small smile, nodding in his way, to which he returns with a wink and a nod. it’s a small gesture, one you know you shouldn’t read too into, but you can’t help the warmth your heart feels.