A/n First Kiss W Genshin Boys :) Ik I Said I Was On Hiatus But Uhhhhhhh Heyyy

being best friends with levi will always leave people asking if you two are dating. even if you two are in different majors, he's always outside of the building where you just had your previous lecture, waiting for you with a cardboard cup holder, his free hand scrolling through his phone to pass the time. you don't have to shout his name because the moment you walk over to him without a word, he knows that it's you who tapped his shoulder. pocketing his phone, he'll hand over the cup holder with a short "you need that more than me, don't want to experience your tyrannical ways because you didn't have your dose of caffeine". having levi as your best friend meant having someone who silently supports you in every crazy thing you do but also reminds you to never go overboard and hurt yourself. your rant sessions with him are always the best because as much as he looks like he's not interested with that poker face of his, he'll always hum and randomly say "damn, why didn't you say to your professor that you wanted to go solo for this project?" you know he always listens because you can see that tiny smirk in every story you vividly relay or the downturn of his eyebrows when he sees how burnt-out you are. when someone invades your privacy by constantly asking you out without stopping, levi will take your phone from you to type (with a concentrated look on his face that always makes you laugh, you just hope your screen is okay by how aggressive he pushes the keyboard), "fuck off, this is her boyfriend, we're having dinner right now. can you fucking stop, you desperate piece of shit?" he's always your supposed boyfriend during certain situations and it will always be that way. he doesn't mind and you're so thankful for him, so, you buy him tea for the rest of the week to show how grateful you are for warding off another one of your potential suitors.

having levi ackerman as a best friend is like having a soulmate (platonic or not) because when it's just the two of you, everybody disappears and all you see are each other. everything just feels right with him.

irresistible

✧ genre: xiao, albedo, childe, zhongli, and diluc x gn! reader fluff

✧ warnings: none

✧ summary: what the genshin men simply cannot resist about you

✧ note: this is basically genshin men being simps for you (as inspired by one direction's song), as they should be <33 this is a little break from some of the angst that has been appearing in my posts for a while now so yes take some of this simple fluff and i hope you guys enjoy ^^

XIAO

the adeptus finds that your touches spark a longing in him that has him wanting more every time.

he always indulges in your sweet touches, whether they are biref or lingering on his skin.

during the times he's still a bit hesitant to intiate physical affection, he relishes in the way you'd slowly take his hand in yours.

he absolutely loves it when you lean your head onto his shoulder whenever you two are sat beside each other.

his face flushes a deep shade of red everytime and you can tell he's flustered by the way he clears his throat but even then, he'd never shrug you off or ask you to lean away.

he may be rendered a little speechless but he secretly loves any sort of affection you give him.

when he gets more open in your relationship, he'll start to initiate smaller acts of affection.

he'll get close enough to brush his hand over yours, glancing at you birefly as if to silently ask whether you were fine with him taking you hand.

or when you both are spending a night at the balcony of wangshuu inn, he'll stand close enough for your shoulders to touch.

his touches aren't that big and showy, but xiao doesn't ask for much. even the smallest contact with you sends his heart soaring and pounding loudly in his chest anyways.

ALBEDO

your local alchemist cannot get enough of your eyes.

the way they glimmer and shine with joy, or the way they look at new things with such wonder and curiosity, he just loves them.

as a scientist, he likes to observe things and take little mental notes in his head. that's why he always stares at your eyes whenever you're doing anything.

whenever you're talking to him about anything your passionate about, unlike most people who stare at lips, albedo would intently look you in the eyes.

he enjoys watching how your eyes sparkle with so much passion and love, is so absorbed in the way they widen slightly when you realize he's staring at them.

he'd do nothing but smile at you softly and tell you, "do you know your eyes glitter like the stars when you talk like this, love?"

even when you're focused on something, sometimes he'll tear hus attention away from his work to look at how concentrated your eyes are on your work.

whenever you two are in the opposite corner of a room for some reason, your eyes will always catch albedo's

his heart breaks when you cry though because your eyes only shimmer with tears and pain.

would definitely wipe your tears away and ask you to close your eyes, planting sweet kisses on your eyelids in hopes that it would make you feel better.

CHILDE

this man finds your lips completely irresistible and he will never get enough of them.

unlike albedo, he's the type of person who would stare at your lips when you talk enthusiastically about something.

he'd interupt your speech with a quick peck to the lips. it stuns you for a bit when he says, "sorry, baby. you looked adorable talking like that i couldn't resist."

childe would definitely ask you for some type of kiss every single day you live.

his day instantly brightens whenever you greet him with a peck to the cheeks, hair, forehead, etc.

kiss him anywhere and his lips will begin to turn up to form a thankful smile.

he'd always reciprocate with a kiss of his own to your lips, basking in the warmth and love they provide him.

he seems a bit clingy because of this, but you can't blame him when your lips are just that soft and addicting.

on days when he's tired and worn out, your kisses act like a little energy recharge for him. kiss him once and he feels like he could defeat the entirety of teyvat.

he always feels reassured and comforted when you give him a kiss. that's something he rarely feels as a harbinger, so whenever you kiss him he makes sure to treasure it and of course, reciprocate it.

ZHONGLI

zhongli cannot get enough of your words, the way you talk.

we all know he's around 6,000 years old so he knows millions of stories and has an endless amount of knowledge and wisdom.

still, he listens intently to any stories you have for him.

it doesn't even need to be stories, you can tell him about anything and he'd still look at you with such fondness and affection.

he absolutely loves it when you ramble on and on to him. he thinks it's adorable how much you know about a certain topic.

zhongli also lives for your little praises, thanks, and "i love you"s.

whenever you compliment him about anything, pride and love makes his heart swell, a small smile adorning his features.

mutters a little, "thank you, my dearest," before placing a small kiss to the top of your head.

bottom line, he will never get tired of hearing talk about absolutely everything and anything. even on days when you don't have much to say, he loves to hear your voice.

this man trusts you immensely and he holds your words to the highest regard so anything that comes from your mouth is precious to him.

DILUC

your smile is something that will always make diluc's day a lot better.

he just finds your smile so contagious and comforting. he is unable to stop a smile of his own from making its way onto his features whenever he sees it.

he would give anything to see any type of smile grace your beautiful features.

he takes mental notes on what you love just so he could brighten both your day as well as his.

in the mornings, when your both in the comfort of your own home, he'd always peck your cheek.

as a bonus, he'd wrap his arms around your smaller figure too.

he basks in the warmth you give when you lean into his chest, adoring the way a smile automatically comes to form on your lips.

often times he would get you some of your favorite snacks or flowers before heading home as well.

his heart completely melts when your eyes widen with surprise. he definitely pecks your forehead when you smile and tell him, "oh, diluc... you didn't need to, but thank you so much. i love them."

your smile heals him and dispels all the fear, sadness, and frustration he holds. he would do everything in his power to make sure you never lose such a beautiful thing.

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© withloveajaxx 2022. please do not copy, plagarize, or translate in any way.

here’s some matching cat icons bc they’re cute af ˆ꒳ˆ!!

art cred: mofu_sand on twitter <3

hq boys when their s/o has a tiny sneeze

— includes atsumu, sakusa, osamu, and kuroo !!

gn! reader │ requested ✓│ genre: fluff

Miya Atsumu

— playful accidents with him were pretty common, but this one was quite messy. 

“well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of your action.”

“mine? this was your fault, Y/n.”

“no, you started it, so obviously it’s your fault, Tsumu,” you argue as you pick up the feathers scattered on the floor, turning your back from him to get things done quickly. so, how did this came to be? well, someone wanted a pillow fight, and a fight was indeed what he got.

as you were finally about to finish up, the hefty amount of the mess you made caught up causing you to sneeze. a lot.

“was that you?”

“yeah,” you answer reluctantly, sniffling as you finally turning to face him again, “is there something wrong?" "are you sure it wasn’t a cat?”

you shook your head.

“okay, fine,” he says, smiling as he coyly, “i guess i’m responsible for this mess, but being that cute wasn’t mine, Y/n.”

“hmm so, what’s the consequence for that?" 

"this.” he holds your face, sweetly placing kisses all over— which made you wonder if you should start sneezing more?  

Keep reading

“Are you warm enough?”

his voice echoes in the silent street, the midnight glow of the moonlight illuminating his face.

As he spoke a visible cloud of warm breath escaped as he once more pulled on your coat making sure you were securely wrapped around.

The teeth biting frost beginning to make his cheeks grow rosey, his steel eyes drawn upon your body making sure no part was left vulnerable to the cold.

He froze at your silence, looking up for a mere second only for his eyes to meet yours.

“What?” He asked.

Your chest grew heavy as you let out a sigh, warm clouds escaping from your mouth, “nothing, nothing.”

“Are you cold?” He repeated, his eyes glossy blinking back at the wintry chill of the night.

You shook your head, digging your hands into your pockets, desperately trying to grasp on to the warmth before it disappeared.

You began slowly step by step, toes curling at the bleak temperature. The footsteps of his matching yours perfectly, never relenting. The vibration echoing in the empty street, the moonlight guiding your steps.

Neither of you said anything, silence carrying you through although your mind buried with one question. Urging you to suddenly speak out yet your body refused to even speak of it.

You looked up at the dark sky, free of clouds and if you squinted perhaps a star or two accompanied the pale moon, guiding you home.

You were okay right now.

Maybe not later.

But with him next to you feeling okay was the only thing you could feel.

3:04am

——————

parings : izuku midoriya x gn reader

summary: you suddenly wake up in the middle of the night finding your boyfriend not in bed with you.

notes: unedited, I do not own bnha or it’s characters!

——————

————————

You scowled, feeling nothing but crinkled sheets and coldness as you reached for your lover's warmth. You squinted at the alarm beside you, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 3:04am. Standing up with a grimace on your face, you searched the room for him, who was hiding his head in his arms. This image made your eyes soften.

You stood up and came over to your partner with a pleasant smile on your face. You run your hands through his unkempt green hair."Izu, come sleep on the bed," you sighed. "Your neck will hurt when you wake up for school." You get a hum as a response." But I still have to finish my revision," he replied, tiredly. You responded by nodding your head from left to right.

You smiled at him, "Izuku, we have another week till the exam, you need to get some rest."He tried to say something, but you didn't let him. He knew he needed to sleep, but he chose to study instead, knowing that he'd have to get up in a few hours. He tiredly got up after you, walking back to the comfy bed.

You slid into bed first, expecting your green-haired boyfriend to fall into your arms. Wrapping your left arm over his neck while stroking back soft curls, you placed his head inside your neck. He gave out a satisfied hum as you brushed his curls back and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

His muffled voice broke the pleasant silence. "thank you for watching out for me."You chuckled as you kissed his forehead once again. "There's no need to thank me, Izu; please know that I love you," you replied, your fingers sliding through his hair. getting a little 'I love you too' as an answer. You hummed contentedly. you slowly fall asleep with a smile on your face as the rain taps on the window and the serene ambience surrounds you.

————————

thank you for reading! I made this a 6am but reblogs are appreciated!

(artwork by @ 2946_KO on Twitter!)

Sleeping with the Villains

Request: My request idea that popped in my head was I haven’t seen a story of shigaraki’s or dabi’s impression of them sleeping nude/naked with their S/O. I was wondering what their thoughts would be? I wouldn’t mind it if it was both sfw and nsfw:)🤸‍♀️

It can either be headcanoan or a fic. you can choose which one suits best for you to compose. 💕 💕 💕

Word Count: 1.5K each

A/N: I went for a more sfw vibe(‾◡◝)

-

Dabi:

His skin is rough, calloused and burned, and even if he is clean, the scent of ash overtakes that of milk and honey. Dabi is scarred, his body in deep purple patches that are pieced together with staples and on a good day, he can ignore the the pain, can push past it and focus on how soft your hand is compared to his, he can focus on you, rather than the way that that his clothes catches over his skin and pulls on the grooves and the burns. On the harder days, he has to push himself out of bed before you can wake. He has to bite down on the pain that screams for him to collapse, and he’ll swallow pain medication and drink the pain away before you can wake. He is a man ready to explode at any given minute, and he will refuse to do that in front of you.

He wears a loose fitting shirt and sweats that makes it unbearably hot and when he walks into the bedroom that he shares with you, you’re undressed. He grins at you and even if his skin does ache, he can’t deny you, and he can’t deny himself. If you want him now, he’ll give himself to you in a painful and horrible way to keep you by his side.

“I didn’t realize we were going to fuck tonight,” he says, a thin smile on his lips as he sits beside you on the bed. “You should have told me, I would've dolled myself up.” He teases, but he’s serious. He wants to be made pretty for you, to have you look at him and ignore the scars that decorate his face and his body. When you roll your eyes and shake your head, your hand curved over his untarnished skin, he deflates.

“It’s not that,” you tell him with a laugh. You mov to sit fully on the bed, your legs crossed and he’s unable to keep his eyes off of you.

He raises his brows, and his eyes are focused on the swell of your stomach, soft and full, and he hates that he wants to touch you. To simply let his body drape over you and keep you under him. “It’s not?” He asks, his throat already beginning to close and when he catches your eyes, he flashes a smile- awkward and tense. “Then what is it?”

Your hand moves slowly away from him, and even though he is warm, the fire inside of him unending and all consuming, he is cold without you. He watches as your hand falls to cup over your calves. “I just want to sleep naked with you.” He must have given you a bewildered look because when you laugh, you go to hold his hands. “You heard me,” you lilt, something so sweet on your tongue that it makes him ache.

“Why?” He’s done it before with you. Sticky skin against sticky skin, your chest rising and falling, his body shaking in the afterglow of sex as you kiss his chest. But it was always that, always after sex when you both slept naked together. Why now? Why without clothing? And even when he’s dressed, he feels so bare.

“Dabi,” you call his name and it’s like sin that slips past your lips. Your hand rises slowly to cup the side of his face and he hates how you can read him like an open book. He hates how vulnerable he’s become when he’s around you. “I just want to sleep with you. Nothing more and nothing less, honey.”

Honey. What a sweet thing to call him. A nickname that is given and told with love and admiration, and he knows who he is. Thirty people is how many he’s killed. His skin is purple and falling apart on him. He is ash and smoke, and at any second, he will fall apart. No matter where you touch, he is scarred; your touch is something so delicate and painful against his neck that he leans into it, desperate for the pain, but desperate for the touch that you are so willing to give him.

“Me too?” He asks, his clothing pulling taut against his scars and when you nod, a soft, inaudible plea on your lips, he can’t deny you. He can’t rid himself of his clothes quick enough, and yet, he takes them off softly as if he were taking off a bandaid.

Your hands replace his and when you lean over him, your chest is in his face and if it were any other time, if he were less broken than he is now, he’s sure he would have joked and teased. He’s sure that he would have used sex to distract you from seeing him. You’ve seen him before and yet, it is never enough. It’s never his skin, it’s never him, it’s a ghost of who he should be- coy and charming. Yet, here he is, having you helping him remove his clothing because if he were to do it, he'd never be bare in front of you. He’d rather burn once more than to ever have you truly see how he appears.

He is a man of many faults and when you kiss his lips, his scarred and rough bottom lip pressed against yours, he pushes you down to the bed and hovers above you. Your hands hold him tenderly, keeping him together, and you smile at him. There are tears in your eyes and he wonders if he’d match you in another lifetime. The fear. The adoration. The way that despite being above you, he’s unable to breathe properly. He can’t stand it. It’s all so horrific in a way he never thought could be real. He lays on the bed, his body vulnerable to you and your ridicule and when he looks at you, he gives you sad eyes, expecting for your face to twist once you realize who you’ve allowed to touch you.

The air is cold, and his staples are warm, and he is bare. Fear has taken over, and it’s chosen to stay, to his his eyes follow as you look at him, and when you raise your hand, letting it hover over his scarred skin, he can feel it and it’s excruciatingly painful and something that he has craved for far too long.

“Honey,” you call him, your hand curving over the crown of his head and running past his hair. You say it so dolefully that he has to shake his head and even then, your smile is one that lacks it’s usual shine.

“It’s nothing,” your name is a whisper against his lips and it’s a sin for him to say something like that. “Just-” he pauses, he doesn’t want you to stop touching him, but he also doesn’t want you to look at him. He swallows and wraps his hand around your wrist. “Do you mind just laying beside me?”

It’s pitiful. Pathetic and everything bad that he’s ever been told. He can’t stand you looking at him when he can’t feel. When he isn’t supposed to feel a thing. And yet, your lips press against his and he can taste the mint on your tongue, and he lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes tightly as you rest carefully beside him.

“Dabi,” you call him and it sends a shiver down his spine when the thin blanket is placed over the both of you. He hums in response, unable to trust his voice at the very moment. “For what it’s worth,” your breath is cool against his shoulder, “I think you’re beautiful.” He can’t help the ugly and snarky laugh that slips past his throat in some cruel joke. You ignore the mean sound and continue, your hand soft on his body. “I wouldn’t dream of ever leaving you. I think I’m too attached to ever believe that I could find someone else. You’re the best that I’ll ever come across, and I hope that when you look at me, you know that I’ll never grow tired of you.”

When you’re asleep, your name having left his lips in a mantra, he lets out a shaky breath. His face burns and he’s glad that he can’t cry. He’s glad he rid himself of that emotion. He’d never forgive himself if he cried because of you. He’d never forgive himself for being so attached to you. He holds you close and the ceiling is blurry. You’re warm in the ways that remind him of something once lost and found. You are something that he will never forget and will never forgive himself for invading your life. Sleeping bare with you was much more than nude, it was vulnerability to let you touch him and see him as him. He turns his head and kisses your forehead. “I hope that when you look at me, you know that I’m sorry.” His voice is weak and he can’t breathe, but he’s by your side and when he wakes up, he wants you to still be there.

Shigaraki Tomura:

His reflection is whole- the mirror before him clean and free of anything that would distort him. With an exposed chest, his shirt is on the sink counter, and he stands in front of the mirror shirtless, observing his body as if he had never seen it before. Tomura raises a careful hand, letting it ghost over his stomach where scars of all shapes and sizes are etched upon his body. The scars are soft, stretched skin that feels almost false under his own, the edges ragged and tickling against the tips of his fingers. He’s never had the luxury of taking a moment to stop and watch his own body, to trace over the imperfections and feel them. It’s so foreign that it makes his anxious, worry bubbling in his stomach that when you call his name, he pulls his hand away from himself, taking a step away from the mirror, recoiling as if his reflection would reach out and trap him there.

He’s never been one to be ashamed of himself, to let the words of others affect him. Time and time again, he’s been told of how awful he looks, reminded of how he’d look better if just a few things were changed about him, and in the end, he’s never cared about any of those comments. He never put his worth on his physical appearance, and that was fine for him. Still, when he sees himself he can find his own flaws, the remarks that people make, and when he sees you, he can’t find any of those. The shirt is grabbed, held tightly in his hands that he has to lift a finger, because old habits die hard.

The door closes behind him and he sees you sitting on the bed, the blanket pulled up towards the chest, gripped in your fists as you hold it close, giving him a tentative smile. Your shoulders are bare, your collarbones exposed, and with his own torso exposed, he clears his head and turns towards the door, almost hoping for an interruption but so scared that someone other than you would see him like this- scars and all.

“You’re not wearing anything,” he presumes, turning back to you, a soft shade of pink blooming on his chest and slowly creeping upwards. “I uh-” he clears his throat even if there is nothing there- “should I do the same?”

You laugh and it’s so sweet, so light and airy, that it reminds him of the first time he shared cotton candy with you. It’s a memory that he pushes away when you drop the blanket and even if he’s seen you in much more passionate ways, he still averts his eyes.

“Only if you want,” you tell him and it makes something inside of him switch, to follow the implication of a command and shed his clothing.

His shirt falls into a puddle of fabric and he steps over it, his steps quick as he goes to the bed that he shares with you. The edge of the bed presses against his thighs and he can’t seem to rid himself of his sweats quick enough, sliding them off until they pool around his ankles. He’s breathless, looking down at himself, his hands hooked over the waistband of his briefs and when he blinks, your hands are over his.

“Usually sex is a lot more fun than this,” he jokes, lifting his head and giving you a ghost of smile that quickly disappears.

“It is,” your voice airy. “But-” your knuckles are now pressed his hips and you lower them slightly, your hands cool against his warm skin- “it’s not about sex tonight.” His boxers join the pool of fabric that is around his ankles and he quickly removes his socks, climbing into bed as you back away to make space for him.

“No?” He whispers, leaning towards you, his hands on either side of your thighs as you sit on your legs. “What a shame,” he says, leaning his head onto your chest, his ear pressed against your beating heart. Your hands curve over the top of his head and he pushes himself further into you when you click your tongue.

It’s quiet for a moment and he can’t bring himself to ruin the silence, to move away from you, even if his arms are starting to tire from holding himself up. Your hand is over him, parting through his silver hair and his ears burn with every touch.

“Tomura?” He hums in response, pushing himself further into you. He doesn’t want for the moment to be ruined. He wants to stay here, uncomfortable and sore, and safe and held. He wants to be in your arms. “How about we lie down, okay?” Your hand leaves the crown of his head and when you pull away, he’s left chasing after you, trying to follow your warmth and reclaim it.

The blanket is pulled, held open for you and him, and in it, is warmth. In it, is you that looks at him so tenderly, the corners of your eyes crinkled and the little fat in your cheeks pushing upwards as you smile at him. He’s clumsy and quick, and he doesn’t care if he seems desperate to get under the covers with you, but it’s all that he wants. He just wants to be beside you.

His hand aches, and his arms are sore, and he’s beside you, his face against your chest as he holds you close to him. It truly is just lying beside you, it’s nothing more, simply being bare in front of you with the distraction of sex to occupy you or him, and it’s horrific. Your hand starts from his neck, past scars trembling under your touch that leads him to hold his breath, taking in one last breath that fills his lungs with the sweet aroma of your body wash and cream. Your hand lowers, tracing over the scars that are wrapped around his arms, coiled and pressed and whispers your name. It stops you for a moment, but when he says nothing else, devoid of breath, his lungs burning and throat tight, your hand continues to press and massage over the scars, each gentle nudge bringing forward the reminder of who he is and when his hands clamps around your arms, free of the mangled scars that are his, he lets out a mix of a whine and cry. He doesn’t know what it is that you are doing, but it hurts and he’s so desperate for the comfort that he fails to register as your hand glides down and flutters over his side, where a scar is large against him, wrapping around his side and fading once it reaches towards his stomach. It’s an odd sensation, different from his. Yours feels as if it really is a ghost that is pressing against him, something so light and foreign that it’s as if you had never touched him before.

“Does it ever hurt?” You ask, and he can feel the press of your thigh against his.

“Yes,” he breathes, unable to lie to you. What is it about you that ruins him, that makes him so weak and willing to tell you whatever it is that you want to hear. He’d bow before you, plead at the mercy of you for just a simple smile.

“Am I hurting you?” You ask and when you press down, the small shift of weight making his gasp out, he hisses out his answer.

“Yes,” he confesses. Your hand starts to lift away from him and he holds it down, his own scarred hand holds yours. “Please, don’t stop,” he asks of you and when he pulls away his eyes burn and yours look so sad and he can’t have that. He can’t have you look at him, and he can’t bear to see you so sad.

Tomura presses his lips against yours, the kiss wet and shaky and it’s more of him needing you than it is of him just wanting to kiss you. He pulls you close, his nails dragging against your soft skin and there’s this aching part of him that doesn’t want to let up for breath, he’d be happy to die there with you, his lips on yours, and yours on his. His heart echoes in his ears and beats against his ribcage like a bird with too big of wings trapped in a cage. Your hands curve around his neck, and it’s different. It isn’t a gnawing sense of pain and itch, it’s not muddled clarity that makes his stomach twist; it is simply you and your touch that keeps him grounded. He’s gasping and when he finally pulls away, gasping for breath and looking at you through half lidded eyes, he sees you smiling back at him, your chest rising and dipping and he is still with you.

“I’m still here,” you say as if you could have heard his worries. Your hand cups his chest and moves to tangle into his hair. “Whatever you want of me, I’ll give it to you.” It’s something that he will hold you to and when you press your lips against his in a fleeting kiss, he’s left wanting more.

waiting on you

note: i think this still remains my longest work yet (seriously 2k words is the best i can do?), and perhaps my best

summary: draken doesn't mean to hurt you, but being part of a gang was bound to do collateral damage

warnings: slight spoilers, mentions of death, violence

word count: 2k

“I want to break up with you.”

You’re sitting in your bedroom with your boyfriend. You, cross-legged on the bed, fidgeting with your hands. Him, laying on his stomach on the floor, busy reading this new manga he bought. You didn’t bother asking him the name because at this point you’re too frustrated to care. Your heart is pounding in your ears and you think you just might throw up. It’s too hot and you wished you could just get up and away from here. From him. Because you don’t want to acknowledge your feelings right now. You know you’ll start crying if you do. You know you’ll start fighting. You know he’ll convince you to stay. And you know, deep down, you want to.

Ken doesn’t fully register what you said. He’s still immersed in the book in front of him as he pops a piece of watermelon in his mouth. He gives you his divided attention, though, as he hums in question. “Sorry, what did you say?” he asks, glancing at you once before returning to the book. You find yourself growing annoyed by the second. It had been so long since you’d seen him and he wasn’t even giving you the time of the day.

You throw a pillow at him, giving him a pointed look when he glares at you. The frown on your face is enough for him to get the message though, and he closes the book, one finger still in to mark the page he was on, before sitting up and facing you. He has his hair down today so you can’t see his tattoo. And you’re glad. You’d told him once that you loved it. You still did, really, but these days it just served as a bitter reminder of the place that was hell bent on tearing him apart from you. And he was just too stubborn to admit it.

“I want to break up with you.” You repeat, seemingly more assertive this time, though the lump in your throat says otherwise.

He does a double take then, eyes widening a little as he croaks out, “W-What?” The manga is thrown away, followed by him crawling over to the feet of the bed to get close to you, reaching out to hold your hands. It hurts you to pull them away, and you can see it hurts him even more by the way his face falls and shoulders slump. You want nothing more than to be held by him, to feel your small hands in his much bigger and warmer ones, but you know if he were to do so you’d never get the words you needed to say out. You look away from him, suddenly feeling the urge to cry.

Ken can’t tell if this is all a big joke, another one of those pranks you always team up with Mikey to play on him. “Baby.” He lets out a nervous chuckle. You still don’t look at him. You can’t. “You’re kidding, right? You don’t mean that.” He’s trying so hard to look into your eyes, movements so desperate that you can’t stop the first tear that falls. And he sees it. He’s just about to hold your cheek in his hand before you’re taking a deep breath and wiping the tear away. You look at him and you love him and you can’t help but hate him too. Why was he doing this to you? Why has he reduced you to this?

You shake your head at him, a silent sign that you had had enough. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Ken. I can’t- I can’t handle you being in Toman any longer. I’ve told you countless times to leave that godforsaken place because it’s not safe for you.” He’s staring at you with this confused look on his face as if he doesn’t get it. And you think maybe he doesn’t. He doesn’t get why the gang is bad for him. He doesn’t get how much it affects you. He doesn’t get why you want him to leave. Which is why you will.

“Wait. Just wait a second, Y/N.” he stands up from his place on the floor, taking a few steps back from you as if he finds the whole situation ridiculous. “You’re breaking up with me because I won’t leave the gang? You can’t be-”

“I’m breaking up with you because I can’t keep waiting for you.” You stand up too, looking him square in the face, willing yourself to go on. “I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing on most days. You pop in and out as you wish and expect me to be okay with it. Even more so now that Toman’s gotten bigger. I miss you, Ken, but these days I can’t help but ask… do you even still love me?”

“That’s not fair, Y/N.” he says softly, knowing you won’t like it if he raises his voice now. “You know I love you. But you can’t make me choose. Toman’s my family, and you are too. Please don’t make me choose who I’d rather give up because I won’t be able to.” He still doesn’t think you’re serious. You can’t possibly be, right? He doesn’t remember ever being this scared. Not in the fight with Moebius or Valhalla. Not when Emma died. Not when Emma died.

“You don’t have to. I’ll choose for you. Because I can’t spend any more nights wondering if you’re okay, if you’re hurt, if you’re in a fight with another one of those stupid gangs, if you’re-” you choke out a sob, “if you’re alive.”

He looks at you incredulously. He doesn’t really want to believe his ears. Doesn’t want to believe the words coming out of your mouth. Doesn’t want to believe they’re coming out of your mouth. “You know that’s-”

You don’t let him continue though. You can’t let him speak. Not right now. Not till you get everything out. “Please, Ken. Don’t you get how much it kills me to know that any day now I might not get to see you ever again? When you-” you stop for a second to wipe away your tears, deciding to sit back down on the bed before your legs give out beneath you. In a much softer voice now, you continue. “When you were stabbed and Mikey called me, I- I really thought I’d lose you then. And I felt like I would die. I don’t want to live-”

“Please don’t say that.” He cries, interrupting you, and it’s only now that you notice the tears on his face. “I know I make you worry sometimes, but I can’t just-”

“Sometimes?” You scoff, looking up at him in exasperation. “Really, Ken?” You really want to hold him right now. Looking at him cry is making your heart ache painfully and you really just want to hold him right now. But you know you’d never forgive yourself if you do. It’s so easy to give in to him. But easy’s not what you need right now. “Please don’t make this any harder than it already is. I love you too much and I need you to understand that you aren’t good for me… I don’t think I’ll be able to say this to you ever again.”

“Stop it. Just stop.” You look up at him and he’s glaring at you through the tears. Why did you think he’d let you go so easily? “If you loved me, you wouldn’t be saying this to me. If you loved me, you wouldn’t be doing this. You’d know that I can’t imagine a life without you either. Whatever I do, I do to protect you and everyone else I care about.”

You want to laugh. You want to laugh at him. At yourself. At the world. At this conversation. You knew he’d do this. He’d guilt trip you into staying. He’d profess how much he loved and cared about you. But he was all talk and no action. Because you didn’t remember the last time you felt his love. Didn’t remember the last time you were doted on. If his love was getting into fights and risking getting killed, then maybe you were better off watching from the side lines. You didn’t want to be involved with him or that gang. He didn’t need you, he had everything he wanted in Toman. You were just this shiny, new object he took a liking to and had now grown tired of. He’d realised you were too much work and decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Why should you then spend so many sleepless nights because of him? Because he thought it was okay to live a criminal’s life? You chose to love him. But you could easily choose to stop doing so.

So you laugh. You laugh like whatever he said is the funniest thing you’ve ever heard in your life (maybe it is). You laugh like he’s the joke. And you ignore the way your heart squeezes. You ignore the way tears are streaming down your face. You ignore the way he looks like you’ve just shot him. You wanted to hurt him. Hurt him like he does you. And you did.

Ken doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t realise what he’s doing to you. He doesn’t understand why you’re laughing at him, making him feel like he’s the crazy one. He loves you. Why don’t you get that? But he doesn’t realise he’s not capable of loving you. Not really. Not when he’s too busy with the gang. Not when his life is on the line most days. Not when he can’t even find time to spend with you. Were you two even dating now? It was always Mikey or Takemichi or Mitsuya or Inui or someone else from that fucking gang before you. You were tired of it. You were tired of being the second choice. Of being the one he’d come to when he had nothing else to do.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked, trying to keep any emotion out of his voice.

“Leave.” Ken pretends he doesn’t hear you.

“Y/N, please. We can work this out. We can-” He knows now that you mean it, accepts that maybe he has fucked up. But he loves you. So he can fix this, right? He finally holds your hands and you instantly feel your resolve weakening. You look up at him, and maybe it’s the first time in a long while you feel his love. Or maybe that’s just his desperation. The desperation not to lose anyone else. “We can take a break, Y/N. Just to think about it. We don’t have to break up. We don’t have to. I know I’ve been neglecting you, but I promise I’ll do better.”

“I want you to leave.” You say it much firmer this time, leaving no room for argument. You want him to get it into that head of yours. Need him to.

He sighs, stepping back. He wants to scream at you. He really does. But he respects you too much. Maybe someday he’ll realise why you’re doing this. But till then he’d respect your decision. He’d stay away if that’s what you needed.

Ken really doesn’t want to go, but he stares at you for a second, then two, before bending down to pick up his stuff from the floor. He steps towards you and leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead, lips lingering longer than you want them to. “I’m sorry. I love you.” He breathes out, turning towards the door. He glances back at you on his way out. Waits a moment for you to look at him, to tell him it’s all a lie, that you want him to stay. But your eyes stay trained on the floor, tears keep spilling, heart keeps breaking.

Maybe you’ll change your mind. You will change your mind. Because he loves you.

feedback and constructive criticism is much appreciated!!

this but with bnha 👀

izuku as letting you fall asleep on his shoulder during field trips and when you're on the bus together. he'll let you have whichever seat you want — whether it be the window seat or the aisle, he's more than happy to let you have the one you want. if he sees you're tired, he'll let you know you can sleep, and offer his shoulder as a pillow with flaming red cheeks. when you get to your destination though, he doesn't have the heart to wake you up since you look way too peaceful.

denki as being way too overdramatic when it's cold, and saying “god, i wish someone would give me their jacket” while looking over at you expectantly, being way too obvious with his hints, that he wants you to give him your jacket. if you do give it to him he'll give it back the next day, while thanking you with a bright smile. when you wear it later on, you'll find a hastily folded paper that just has a messily drawn happy face inside in one of the pockets.

shoto as trying out new things with you — even if it turns out that both of you suck at it. you could say you want to try learning how to cook, and he'd try it out with you (as it turns out, he's very bad at it, but he tried). it isn't limited to just small things, he'd come with you even if you say you want to learn an entirely new thing that takes months to learn; something that's time consuming. if you tell him he doesn't have to come with you if he doesn't want to, he's shaking his head and is already searching for classes for whatever it is.

bakugou as reaching for your hand when he feels like you're having a bad day. he doesn't say anything, just squeezes your hand to reassure you since he knows he's not the best at comforting people, or just words in general. if you look at him and smile, genuinely, he knows you're alright, but if you look at him and smile, one he knows is fake, his mission for the day is to cheer you up, whether it be with passive aggressiveness or a try at actually comforting you with words, he just wants you happy again.

kirishima as always being there whenever you need him and knowing when something's wrong. if you have anything on your mind, he's one step ahead of you because right as you're about to send him a text, you recieve one from him saying 'what's wrong?' he doesn't pressure you to talk either, he just reassures you that he's there for you if you need to talk about it. he'll offer to come over to your house, even if it's 4am and his parents will give him hell about it in the morning.

hanta as making you playlists of the songs that remind him of you. he just randomly sends you a link to a spotify playlist he'd made, and ask you to tell him what you think about it. he'd be overjoyed if you say it's good and that you like it. he never really specifies that he made it especially for you, unless you ask him why he send it to you. he'd then say those are songs that remind him of you, and when you thank him, he's totally red behind his phone screen, although he'll never admit that.

tokyo rev ver. | thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are appreciated!

GENSHIN BOYS IN COLLEGE

pairings: xiao, zhongli, kaeya, albedo, diluc, thoma, kazuha, & childe x gn!reader

summary: them & their college shenanigans <3

warnings: fluffy. this is literal crack i'm so blocked

note: i was having writers block so enjoy some brain rot

xiao: the liberal arts major who hates everyone except you and his besties venti & albedo <3 when xiao's not trying to be the main character who's mysteriously drawing by himself under a tree, he's streaming on twitch with his active 400k fan base that consists mostly of teenage girls. oh, did i mention he's a secret drag racer?

zhongli: the teachers assistant for the world history class. this man knows everything about every historical event. you swear it's like he's almost lived through all of it! which leads to your speculations of zhongli being a vampire. anyway, this man is very sweet and definitely gets unwanted flirtatious attention from his students. poor man just wants to talk about history </3

kaeya: the frat boy who's almost never at his frat house. honestly if he didn't tell you he was a frat boy you never could've guessed. kaeya is your typical "bad boy heart breaker" trope. and of course, his only soft spot is for you <3 what you find even more shocking is that he's a chemistry major. suddenly the stupid science pick up lines he leaves on post it notes for you to find make more sense.

albedo: ah yes, our studious straight A albedo. he's a double stem major with a minor in art. albedo has to be one of the most underrated students in your class. he's kind, smart, and very pretty. albedo is always willing to help you with your work and always does so with a gleaming smile! everyone loves albedo <3

diluc: oh. him. that guy. so diluc's like super rich, but humble about it. you won't even know this man is rich you didn't see him driving around campus in his 150,000 sports car. you've only heard from rumors that he's not one to talk to and should be ignored. so it wasn't until you were forced to talk to him though a project that you realized diluc is the most socially awkward dork you know! strangely, you very much like him for it.

thoma: unintentional teachers pet. all of the professors love thoma. i mean, who doesn't love thoma? having a bad day? thoma to the rescue! he's always there for you, rain or shine. he majors in zoology and is president of the cooking club! he also seems to attract a ton of unwanted attention from his fellow peers, but in reality all his heart longs for is yours.

kazuha: mmm yes. another one apart of liberal arts. kazuha is a music major and probably one of the easiest going guys you have ever met. he writes you weekly poems that you collect over time and put in a shoebox you spent hours decorating. you'd never tell kazuha that obviously.

childe: the epitome of frat boy chad. childe did not come to college to study, he came to party his life away. what enrages your the most is childe's natural smooth talking skills. this loser can talk any professor out of failing him. but what you can't seem to wrap your head around is his pristine grades. how can someone get wasted on a monday night but still ace their exam!!

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