SAYING SOMETHING OUT LOUD. Multi

thinking about…

warning(s): not proofread. other than that, none.

other musings: read a haikyuu version of this and now i can’t get these out of my head,,, ALSO, i apologize if your fave isn’t in this!! truthfully, i wanted to include more characters, but i couldn’t find the inspiration + i was scared to not get their personalities down. might do a pt. 2 with some others later when my creative juices are properly flowing once more but i’m not promising anything,,,

update: this was inspired by the haikyuu (original) version, which belongs to @kageyuji !! pls go and check their stuff too!

…holding the jujutsu kaisen characters’ faces.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈 pauses and tilts his head, though his face quickly breaks into a beam, the color of his cheeks matching his hair. if there was a puppy’s tail attached to him, it’d be wagging furiously by now. he then proceeds to nuzzle either one of your hands, loving the feel of your palms and the thumb rubbing his cheek, eyes sliding shut. they snap back open, stuck in a lovesick gaze when he feels your petals against his forehead and nose. once you’ve finished, he tackles you with a hug, burying his face in your hair. “love you,” he mumbles, tightening his hold around you, “so much.”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈’s face is blank at first. it doesn’t take long for it to morph to one of suspicion, eyes narrowed— a way of asking ‘what do you think you’re doing’. your reply came in the form of a sheepish smile, explaining how you simply wanted to admire his pretty features and provide affection. one of his eyebrow quirks. not wanting to annoy him further, you’re about to pull away, only for him to cover your hands with his, face looking off to the side. it’s your turn to raise a brow. “…never told you to stop…” he mutters, barely audible, the tip of his ears burning, subconsciously leaning further into your touch.

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄 seems startled, though his widened eyes soften immediately upon spotting your familiar form. he didn’t say anything—not that you expected him to, anyways. another thing you didn’t expect, however, was for him to reciprocate the gesture, cradling your face with a tenderness one would use when holding the finest china. you brush over his eyelashes, which seemed to trigger something in him: peppering kisses all over your face as he basks in the sound of your melodious giggles.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 blinks once, then twice. his diamond cut irises gleam with pleasant surprise, mouth curling to a smirk. one of his hands reaches up, temporarily removing one of yours to place a kiss your on inner wrist, while the other makes its way around your waist, closing the distance between. “oh?” he starts, “and to what do i owe this pleasure?” his teasing tone prompts an eye roll from you. “my poor, unfortunate dumbass who’s hopelessly in love with you.” a low chuckle escapes him at your reply, and he shifts to press his forehead against yours. “really? ’s a good thing i’m hopelessly in with love you too, then.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎’s unreadable expression doesn’t waver. “can i hold your face?” the question remains unanswered for a while, and sweat is beginning to gather at the back of your neck. you begin to crumble under the weight of his gaze. “ah, um, you know what? nevermi—” “cup your palms.” did you hear that right? “wha—” he doesn’t let you finish, already seizing and positioning your hands. afterwards, he leans his head forward to perch on your awaiting hold. he lets out a tired (or is it contented?) sigh, eyes sliding shut. you could’ve sworn you felt him snuggle into them. “don’t ask.” “what?” “next time, don’t ask. you don’t need permission to do this.”

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 exhales loudly. he clicks his tongue, “this is revolting.” you pay little to no mind to his words, knowing there’s no real harm behind them. if he wants you gone, he would’ve done something, yet here he stayed, scowling at you but never making any actual effort to escape or pry you off. in fact, when you try to let go, he moves to grip your wrists faster than one can blink. “i thought you didn’t like—” “shut the fuck up.” again, his words drip with malice, but your smile never falters, especially not after the uncharacteristically gentle way he guides your hands back to his face.

©reverees. all rights reserved.

bokuto as your boyfriend

request:  The type of lover fic is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read 🥺 could I request relationship headcanons with bokuto?

a/n: AH thank you for loving it!!! i like writing those types of things whenever im in a mood to write but not write *seriously*! and yes i LOVE bokuto he’s such a HIMBO my BABY GOD – also i’m trying a different layout for hcs! i think i like my old ones better than making a separate header for each character but,,,,we shall see

[bokuto boyfriend headcanons]

-bokuto, obviously

Keep reading

In Life and Death / 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

♡ read the prologue here :D

♡ When everything you know is shrouded in light, it’s often hard to remember to peek into the darkness. Your family has long since been a part of those who avoid it, choosing to hide comfortably amongst the high ranks of Mondstadt’s nobility. Your father, the King, has fought hard to keep it that way, especially following the Queen's unfortunate death. However, with a sudden push from the Fatui, certain old wounds are quickly reopened.

It's why upon tragedy striking, you aren’t alone in the assumption that the foreign nation is to blame. But when unseen circumstances quickly push the question of the culprit's identity over to you, you find that the situation is much deeper than meets the eye. Between the mysterious nature of an unknown killer, familial doubts, and the 11th Harbinger launching himself into the scene by making an attempt on your life, you think you're completely in over your head.

Even if Childe claims you have the picture all wrong.

And so, in a gruesome twist of events, you're faced with a choice -- trust Childe's convenient involvement and get to the bottom of everything together, or risk becoming victims yourselves.

♡ warnings: violence, mentions of choking, blood, and knives.

♡ word count: 7.3k

You had long learned to never trust a man who is no more than his glare, because even the most innocent of dogs will still bear their teeth. And inside the walls of Mondstadt’s gates, this ideology very well may be known to many -- because from the darkened alleyways to busy courtrooms, there will always be those who show more than they are ready to give.

Unfortunately, the same can often be said of the king. 

You are as much of a stranger to his dealings as he is, though the difference in you lies in your capability of being disappointed. The King is extremely lucrative when he can be, handling his power in a way where those around him are left in a constant state of wondering, when will he strike next, and how? The answers are often underwhelming.

Of course, you know better than them. Each side-eyed glance and nuance of a threat is always held, but sometimes you suspect that behind your father's guarded eyes, there's nothing more than a man paralysed with fear. It's why your first reaction is to write him off when you get to thinking about the person you'd lost -- however much you want to blame him for it. His inherent innocence is the entire reason that the concept of a murder on the royal grounds terrifies you so much. 

You hadn't ever been extremely close to the Chamberlain, but news of her death shook you like it would anyone. Because she had been a pleasant young woman, certainly no one that deserved to meet their end in such a way.

This does not mean Mondstadt is crime-free, of course. Pickpockets and murderers alike dwell in the deepest corners and behind closed doors, but none have ever dared to show themselves in such a fashion. Though, a sizable bit of the population in these parts do tend to include fatui agents from outside the nation, perhaps entrenched in the only ways they know how. 

Someone other than the king had dealt a life-ending blow to someone of no consequence -- bearing their teeth, so to say. It was done as if they had known they could get away with it. The offence was haughty, too confident to be considered a crime of the usual degree. Hence, in your opinion, the large possibility of a fatui agent testing the waters.

But with nothing being confirmed, the question of the sudden nature of events remains. And despite the warning bells in your head, despite any disapproval the king may have, you would be better suited trying to uncover the mystery with everyone else than just sitting around. In fact, that's exactly how you managed to see the effects of the situation in the first place.

It was more difficult than usual to sneak around, but upon arriving at the ugly leftover scene under the guise of a maid, you almost change your mind. 

There was no major evidence left behind, no trace of a second person besides a ring of purple around her neck, the indentation of thick fingers settled heavy in her skin. Apparently mere choking had not been enough to subdue the woman, too — the main offender is much more striking.

An injection had ultimately done her in, the pin-prick small but only noticeable thanks to the crystallised blood surrounding the wound. Much like the odd suit of frost covering her skin, it was unusually cold to the touch.

But, you had been discovered and ushered out of the room before you could unearth much more. As much as you’d like to do something with the information you’d snuck by, other clues are not so readily available. You'd expected as much, but to be shunned so quickly? It was almost too odd to overlook the convenience of it.

Left with nothing to process, you are steadfast in your blaming of the foreign Snezhnayan officers. But whether any truly useful information exists or not, you hadn't been allowed around long enough to find out. 

Grave events such as this one are debilitating, they shake normal life in a way usual events do not. But just as the king is well aware of the fear that envelops the royal court, he is also in tune with the mechanics of the city he rules. He will take all means necessary to confine the circumstances, to avoid pressure from Snezhnayan diplomats if nothing else. 

 So, you know well that the lack of information provided is entirely intentional.

The Chamberlain's death had occurred three whole days ago, and you still haven't heard a thing. Not even the town gossips are aware of the turmoil that drenches the castle, and the maids are equally tight-lipped. 

Tapping a pen against the mahogany of the wooden desk, you sigh. The writer’s callus on your dominant hand is tinged with blue ink, darker in the low light of the library only you populate. The usually bustling halls have been noticeably empty within the past few days. However, it is a good side effect -- with less to see your actions, the more freedom to investigate you are given. 

Though, any so-called ‘investigations’ you’ve completed thus far have been nothing more than quick brainstorming sessions, wherein the same vague points are turned over and over again in your head. Sighing at the blank sheet of paper in front of you, you slump in your seat. 

It frustrates you to know that in these moments, you are often royalty in title alone. You are a woman of title, a person of royal blood, are you not? Yet, because of a single wave of the king’s hand, you are kept in the dark just as every courtier and servant is, inevitably leaving one amongst you vulnerable to repeat the same unfortunate mistakes the chamberlain had. 

However, you are not a courtier. Not a servant. So, why dangle such information above your head, why withhold any greater power your status holds? The reason, your father will likely never share, but your lack of knowledge in any event is undoubtedly purposeful

It may just be for your protection, though his intentions are never so simple; he thinks like a king, not a father. 

But, albeit his strange tendencies, bits and pieces of the father you want to see remain in every stroke of his lacquered pen. He is the puppet behind only your menial troubles, and it would be unfair to pin much more than a daughter’s bitterness on him. Perhaps this is just his out of touch way of protecting you -- like you need it.

“My lady,”

A soft yet firm voice bids for your attention. There is an immediate regret that blooms in your chest as you stand up abruptly, feet pushing you out of your chair only to meet the patient eyes of a maid. You offer her an apologetic smile as you will your heart to slow.

It’s not your place to be jumpy, not when there are those who work soundlessly to ensure your protection.

Perhaps they’re a bit too soundless, though. 

“My apologies.” The old woman bows her head slightly, leaning a careful hand on your shoulder. “You startle very easily lately, are you feeling well?”

You nod, gaze anywhere but her as you search for an escape. “Yes, yes, of course. Just nervous, is all.”

The maid watches you as you gather your things, eyes lingering a moment too long on the shaking hands you fail to conceal. You clutch the notebook and pen to your chest, offering her an awkward smile.

“Everything will be alright,” She assures you, gesturing to the rest of the empty library. “Extreme measures are being taken to protect anyone else in the castle from succumbing to a similar fate.”

As you nod wordlessly, the calmness in her voice does not dissipate. You feel almost scrutinised under her polished gaze — it is gentle, but concerned nonetheless. Your fears are merely surface level affairs to the familiar woman, despite how deeply you attempt to hide them. 

Offering her a nod as you duck past her, you mumble a quiet goodbye. The maid’s eyes remain stuck to your back as you begin to walk away, patient.

“I had tea prepared not long ago.” You stop at the doorway, hand coming up to ghost over the wooden frame as your head turns back. The same unwavering smile adorns your sight. “Enjoy your night, my lady.”

You respond with a quick smile, fastening your grip on your belongings as you hurry from the room. The particular woman’s kindness truly runs deep, though you can’t help the discomfort you experience under her weighted gaze -- she studies you as if you are translucent, hungry eyes searching for fears to quell.

As your shoes click on the hard floor, you grimace. Of course, her intentions are nothing more than those of a dedicated caretaker, and guilt pokes at your inside unnervingly for pushing her innocent concern off. There is a part of you that wants to confide in someone, whether it is a maid or someone entirely different -- but, for reasons unknown to even you, it’s not something you’re willing to do. 

On your worst days, you fear someone will attempt to face your emotions head-on, regardless of your wishes. And while such a person is bound to appear, it’s instances like these that you learn to stave off those indulgent enough to get too close. It is only practical, after all, as a member of the royal family to keep your troubles close.

Your mother had been a wonderful example of what compassion could do to someone of your status. Evident in every generation, in every string of events, there will always be someone looking to take advantage of such raw trust. So, while cowardly, it is a caution that no one can fault you for.

It is a truly vile way of thinking, yet in this walk of life, it is unfortunately necessary.

You have long stopped wondering what others think of your fears, though simultaneously, you have recently found it harder to maintain a cooler composure. No action seems just right, no demeanour enough to please everyone. Your honest desperation is heartbreakingly truthful, and you can only hope it's enough to excuse the way you act. 

The low evening sun passes over your face through the windows of the hall, decorating your body in an array of warmth. And whether the world sees fit to tease you or not, you don’t mistake the oddly timed shiver that runs through your body. Shaking your head, you wish tiredly for nothing more than everything to be over. 

The crystalline doorknob to your personal chambers is slippery beneath your clammy grip, exhaustion seeping through your veins as you stand there without luck. The tiny inconvenience tests your patience extremely closely. Luckily, the halls are empty around you, void of anything but yourself and guards stationed some ways away. 

Offhandedly, you wonder if you could get away with sneaking off. Perhaps it’s an action you may need to take eventually, but with the steady droop of your eyelids, you surmise it can wait. Even your tired mind can discern that there is little you can do in your state.

Moments later, you find yourself sitting on your bed, the tricky doorknob locked shut behind you. You have little desire to do anything but to crawl under your covers and move on to the next day. But, the commentary-scribbled notebook still weighs lightly in your hand. 

With a narrowed gaze, you consider stuffing it into your pillow case -- what could be a better hiding place than directly beneath you? Your eyes are heavy as you carry out the action. The process isn’t meticulous by any means, but you decide it will work well enough for now. 

Still in your day clothes, you let your body fall on top of the comforter. You’re briefly freed of your anxieties as you will your mind to go blank. You forget about the murder, about your deathly curiosity, even about the mug of tea that continues to go cold on your nightside table.  

Your worries may encompass dire things, they may not. But at the end of the day, they can only be worries.

“I don’t understand.”

The spring air is sweet in your nose, but for all that it’s worth, it’s easily outshined by the distinctly rotten taste that grows in your mouth. Mornings in the castle are usually filled by the former; golden sunlight within the deserted halls, the chirping of bluebirds heard from beyond the cracked windows, bowls of fresh fruit carried by passing servants -- but today, you find these peaceful things to be stifled.

You’d been called on during the early hours of the morning, long before you normally even rise. Perhaps it was a precautionary action, perhaps the particular subject just made your father restless, yet in any case, the first hour of your day is spent moderately.

“This is by no means a complicated thing to ask of you.” Your father says this, and while he may be right, he should be one of the last to consider giving you such an order.

You shake your head slowly, trying not to let your distress shine through. “No, it’s not, but it’s not necessary, is it? Someone is dead. I’m only expressing discomfort in my own way.”

“...Your coping mechanisms seem awfully dangerous.”

Avoiding his eye, you yawn into the back of your hand. Call it what you like, but coping mechanism be damned if it’s the one thing that makes you feel secure living as you do. 

“I don’t see how trying to figure out what happened is dangerous,” You say, taking in your father’s demeanour. It’s an early morning for him as well, but you know better than to push his limits on purpose. “Please. It’s only a personal reassurement. I’ll be sure not to take it too far.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not concerned about you taking things too far, because I know you’ll do that regardless of what we agree on today.”

You’re silent at that.

“I just don’t need you getting hurt because someone chooses to see you as a threat, not when there are more capable people to be assessing this situation.”

Your lips and patience both simultaneously thin. “If there are more capable people available, then where are they? I would be more than happy to hand things over to them.”

Your father’s head tilts slightly, voice raising an octave or so. “I'm in the process of gathering help. Are you questioning me?"

Dread begins to ferment in your stomach as you shake your head, words heavy in your mouth. “No. I only urge you to take this more seriously. I think it would be the better choice, knowing what has happened when we let our guard down in the past.”

His eyes narrow as you turn your head away, avoiding his eye as casually as possible even while your heart thumps loudly in your chest. There is not a day that goes by wherein your father does not honour your late mother in some way. But, you do not understand the reason he chooses to push aside an event so similar to the one that has affected him so greatly now.

“I recommend that you visit the tavern this afternoon.” If your jab has ignited anything in him, it’s lost in the moment he turns to take a thin binder into his hand. You accept it warily as he continues. “The sister celebrations are quickly approaching. Despite the unfortunate events that have taken place recently, we must prepare as if on a normal schedule."

You quirk a curious brow. “Aren’t we on one already?”

“Yes, as of now.” Your father sizes up your expression before hesitantly continuing. “But, if things do get worse, I’m afraid we might have to postpone the events.”

Eyes widening, you stand up.

“There’s such a thing on the line, and still no one is investigating anything yet?!”

He says your name in a tone of warning, voice stern. “I'm handling it, but you must understand that there is not much to work with. I’m sure you know this as well.”

You try to meet his eyes, but they never quite meet yours; they follow his actions behind his desk, your fidgeting, but never anything else. You do not take it as a truthful promise, yet under his attention, all you can do is nod and believe that he will do as he says -- hope that he will listen to the concerns of the only family he has left. 

You move to leave, keeping careful note of the binder in your hand as you grumble a muffled goodbye. You can only guess its contents, but aren’t too keen on stopping to read it under the stifling atmosphere you’ve created. At the door, you pause as he calls your name. 

“Do not mention your mother to me again.”

His words settle with you as you disappear into the morning haze, the inkling of a frown pushing at your lips. The King had said that he was in the process of gathering help, but given his past, you aren't too inclined to believe him.

The conversation gets you thinking -- in the reality that he does end up finding someone to handle the situation, would you give up so easily? You aren't quite sure you know the answer. Especially not if the sister celebrations are in jeopardy.

It's why, when the afternoon comes, you are more than willing to pay the tavern a visit. As you’d discovered on your meandering walk back to your chambers, the binder your father had handed you is composed of nothing but numbers -- all necessary information for the numerous courses set to be available at the day of Ludi Harpastum and its most beloved partner, titled Dies Luctus.

A commemorative event by title alone, Dies Luctus is a masquerade that takes place yearly that exists to pay respects to those who have passed -- though in recent years, it has become more of a prologue for later festivities to the unseasoned eye.

Small details here and there exist to remind you of its history, in the dark masks that are given to attending patrons, or the waves of silence that occasionally pass over the crowd, even the single flowers provided as offerings to those who have lost someone. The most menacing of these signs, however, remains to be the empty throne at the king’s side. 

Your hands are clammy as you trek to the tavern. Be it a masquerade or a way to respect the dead, you will sooner be a part of those honoured than let a petty murder be the reason the world is not reminded of your mother’s existence once again. 

Angel’s Share’s bell chimes from high above as you enter, but no one looks in your direction even as the door slams shut behind you -- at least, save for the bartender. Trained vermillion eyes find yours in an instant, surprise melting through the depths as he beckons you over with the rag in his hand.

You can’t help your smile as you slip onto the stool in front of him.

The bar is polished finely, though maybe even more so than usual due to the presence of Master Diluc. His appearance at the bar is rare these days because of the looming dates of Dies Luctus and Ludi Harpastum -- but since the unfortunate passing of his father five years ago, the responsibility of coordinating the technicalities of the two events has since been passed to him. 

You know firsthand that it’s a lot of work, but there is no one you feel safer leaving the job to than the man in front of you. He has proved time and time again that he is steadfast in all he does. 

“Look who’s finally decided to show themselves.” Diluc nearly puts down the glass that he’s cleaning to ridicule you, a sure sign of his irritation. “I’d almost forgotten what you look like.”

Exhaling a light laugh, you shrug. “You know it’s busy up there. I barely have time for myself anymore, much less to come here.”

He shakes his head as if the explanation is so-so.

“You were never bad at sneaking out here before.” He quirks a brow, trading in the dry glass for another. 

“That was before someone was murdered in the place I’m sneaking out from.” You point out, taking gratification in the way Diluc lets out a resigned sigh. “Of course, it hindered me a bit.”

You place the notebook on the counter as you speak, not missing the way Diluc’s eyes land on it briefly.

“Right.” He nods thoughtfully, lips thinning. “I hope you’re doing well. In that case, it’s better to stay where you can’t be hurt.”

“Glad I have your approval.” You nod, eyes trailing back to the menu board behind him. There is a good reason why the Dawn Winery is widely regarded as the finest winery in Teyvat -- Angel’s Share’s menu has remained consistent with classic favourites that have served multiple generations well. 

“Here,” He nudges your usual order to you, and in a haze, you realise you must have spaced out. Mumbling a soft apology, you take the cold glass in your hands. 

Diluc releases a quiet sigh, nudging the notebook with his knuckle. “Is something wrong? Do you need my help?”

“Kind of.” You admit, shrugging. He opens the binder with a curious hand. “It’s the catering needed for the sister celebrations coming up. It was given to me this morning.”

Diluc skims the pages silently, but you get the feeling he’d finished doing so long beforehand. He has always been so reserved, so thoughtful, even when you were children. His perseverance after the death of his father was something that you could never accomplish on your side of things, not even with time. Even as you stumbled behind, he grew capable -- capable of returning to see that you went in step with him, to the end. 

“I… had assumed the festivities would be postponed at the very least, concerning the recent events.” He admits, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “Is that not the case?”

“What?” You scoff, gesturing to the book. “Of course not. The king probably gave me that to deliver because he’s sure to have a solution by the time it comes around. He wouldn’t dare miss it.”

“Do you believe that?”

It’s a harmless question with a simple answer, but it stops you short. To see Diluc, such a powerful man, so unsure sometimes leaves your hopes exceedingly low. You train your eyes on the wall of alcohol behind him in hopes that he will not notice your hesitance. 

“...Fine. I don’t know what you’ve been told,” Continuing quietly, you’re suddenly acutely aware of the patrons near you. “I know that the longer it’s covered up, the worse it will get. But the issue will be gone by the time Dies Luctus starts, even if I have to make sure of it myself.”

“We’ve had problems before, but we’ve never missed it. And we won’t this time either.”

Diluc nods silently, your unspoken message reaching him clearly. Since your mother, the queen’s, murder almost six years ago, you have not once missed Dies Luctus -- the event is a memorial for the dead, but it is much more to you. Out of the three hundred and sixty five days a year, it is the only one your father will ever acknowledge that the queen is gone. 

“Then I’ll do what I can to help.” Diluc leans down on the counter on one elbow, all so that he can come closer to your face. It’s as if he believes your distance will affect how clearly you remember his threatening concern. “You need to tell me if anything else happens, okay?”

You can’t help a smile, leaning back. “So you will accept my request this time, Master Diluc?”

He shakes his head, fighting a smile. The jab of sudden formality is something that you will never let go of, even if he refuses to use your own title in return.

“I hope I won’t have to.”

You fear many things. darkness, the unspeakable acts spoken of in rumours that reach the castle’s halls, occasionally you even let your imagination fill in the blanks -- but not even the stormiest nights can compare to the dread that ferments deep in your bones in this moment. 

A cold sweat breaks out over your neck as you lay still, waiting, praying for the movement outside your door to still. There are two guards stationed outside your door on a typical night, and you have learned their schedules and how to recognise their gaits gradually over the hours of sleepless nights. Such an abundance of interruption is definitely rare. 

They are ordered to stay still so as not to disturb you, but the sounds that reach your ear are distinctly unnatural, and unnervingly close. Surely, you're just paranoid. You can only hope.

The curtains are drawn halfway shut across the room, letting the only source of light in through tiny gaps and slivers. It paints a suspenseful image as muffled noises come to a stuttering stop outside your door. Your breath catches as you’re shocked back into attention by a large thump against the wood. Abruptly, you sit up, clutching the sheets in a grip that has your knuckles turning white. Something is wrong.

Suddenly, someone steps carefully into your room. You eye the man warily. Because your guards rotate in shifts that change in the early morning, you cannot recall ever seeing the faces of the men who guard you while you rest. 

Breath stumbling, you ask, “…What’s going on?”

The guard shakes his head silently, face hidden beneath the haze of the night that blankets the room. You swallow thickly.

“You aren’t my guard, are you?” You say quietly.

A thousand thoughts run through your head. Is this perhaps your karma for pursuing the killer? It may only be your luck that has brought them to you, a harbinger of death is certainly a disposition that would find you eventually. But no amount of self pity or regret could overtake the fear that seizes you. 

“Clever.” When the fake finally responds, his voice is deeper than you had expected it to be. “I was told that you weren’t able to recognise your guards. Though, I presume that isn’t completely true, am I right, Your Highness?”

The man is quick and virtually soundless as he crosses the floor, all but for the way his boots occasionally clink together. Your heart sinks as his supposed plan comes together in your head.

“Don’t.” You order him sternly, putting out a shaking palm that betrays your voice. “How- how close do you think my other guards are?  I presume you weren’t told how quick their rounds are?”

It’s a complete and utter lie — no matter how close any patrolling guards are, the ones you mention are hours away from arriving. But you notice it when his body stills for a moment anyway. In slight panic, you throw your covers back and stand in a helpless attempt to gain leverage. 

“Don’t move.” He warns, putting out an empty hand. “You have the choice to make this a lot easier for the both of us.”

You scoff quietly, the sound broken. “...And let you kill me?”

You frown, trembling hand reaching for the abandoned cup of tea on the nightstand with a vengeance. But the man follows your movements too quickly, coming close and tearing the ceramic from your grip. The cold liquid splashes harmlessly back onto him.

He is faster than you in every sense. The late hour muddles more than just your mind, leaving ample opportunity for his hand to wrap around your collar and bring you closer. You half expect to see a creature of nightmares -- a mangled face, soulless eyes, but instead you’re met with the blank canvas of a black masquerade mask. Not even his eyes are visible through the tiny gaps. 

The cold edge of his knife presses into the skin of your neck, the same wide hand pulling your back to his chest. Your eyes grow wide at what little patience the man seems to have. 

“...Who are you?” You breathe, grimacing as the blade presses farther into your skin. It’s cleverly positioned, deep enough to draw blood yet still shallow enough to lift most of the pressure from your voice. No words pass between you as he looks over you from the depths of his mask, silent and patient. 

“Did you take the chamberlain’s life like this, too?” You choke, gasping for air as you begin to feel the gash on your neck slide open further with each word. “Or were you kinder to her?”

A small groan of pain leaves your mouth hanging open as he jolts the metal -- it’s not enough to hurt you a large amount, but it quiets you nonetheless. You wince when he says, 

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve killed no one yet.” He says, breath hot against your ear. “You should worry about yourself.”

Unwelcome shock ripples through your chest. Of course, he must be bluffing, but you can’t quiet your mind long enough to focus on the implications of his words. It’s fairly obvious due to the burlesque way he holds onto you, but you suspect if the man put any amount of his normal strength forward, you would stand no chance. 

Brashly, you hiss, “Are you dragging this out on purpose?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks. “Only if you’d like me to, Princess.”

“…You say pointless things.” You grumble, trembling hand shooting up to latch onto his clothed wrist. Most of your willpower goes into keeping your voice still, but any semblance of control you attempt to fake is lost on your body. Though, he pays no mind to you. 

You’re even almost certain he mirrors your look of irritation as he finally dares to make a calculated slash across your neck. Gasping in pain, your legs falter. It is exceedingly thin, barely noticeable for all but the way you bleed. The wound that opens across your neck meets the cold air all too fast, hot blood ghosting across the mess of hands at your collar.

He seems to think his warning will convince you to secede. 

Hesitantly, you speak, nearly gagging at the sensation of blood that drags down your throat. “Do you enjoy holding my life in your hands?”

Your captor doesn’t respond, circling you to your front cautiously. He keeps the knife to your throat as a precaution before finally allowing the mask he wears to slip over the bridge of his nose. Chilling blue eyes stare back at you, clean and free of emotion. For a moment, these eyes seem hauntingly familiar -- but you force yourself to quit dwelling on the man that holds a knife to your throat. 

“And if I do?”

The challenging words ignite a sense of desperation in you. You have little ability to fight back, fearing your delicate wound opening into something more; your blood already makes a mess of anything it can reach, and you doubt you can withstand it for much longer. 

“Then,” You’re breathing heavily as his eyes narrow. “Try your best.”

You had first learned how to hold a dagger beneath the shade of a grapevine on your thirteenth birthday -- it had been a drab thing, metal worn and rusted from years of disuse. Yet, Diluc had sworn to you that it was as good as any. With his skills, maybe that was true, but as you took the handle like you would a kitchen knife, you knew immediately that you would have a different experience. 

The concept was at first no more than a way to have fun, intended for an impossibly different future. Though, you’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that Diluc took his role as a teacher seriously -- he almost embodied the position as he guided you, solidifying your once meagre skills.

Then Diluc received a vision. 

Pyro and matching his once upbeat personality, the fifteen year old that had received it was delighted. Quickly, he lost the need to know how to throw a knife, and how to utelise it as an effective weapon. He had many other things at his disposal that were much more interesting, after all. 

And yet, he stayed with you. He continued to teach you everything he knew, even as he began to forget it himself. You make a mental note to never admit that you’re the same, that most of his words from back then are lost to time. But, as frustrated tears well up in your eyes, you’re suddenly unsure if you’ll ever get the opportunity to see him again. 

Because in truth, you are more human than you give yourself credit for. You pale in the face of danger just as anyone else would, losing your reason just as fast as you may lose your blood -- but the difference in you, is that you will seldom let people say they have bested you. 

With a staggering breath, you back away suddenly, wincing at the slight grit of metal releasing skin as you move. There are no easy countermeasures to take, no hidden weapons tucked away for situations like these. The man points his weapon at you easily, threats materialising in his gaze as he takes a step forward. You take a step back in return.

“If you come quietly, I’ll make it hurt less”

The same dreaded pattern continues until the back of your knees hit the bed.

“And if I don’t? You’ve had ample opportunity to take my life, and yet you haven’t.” You say bitterly, hiding the way your hands shake behind your back. The knife he holds still shines red with the tint of your blood. “If you’re trying to hold me for ransom, I’d save your breath.”

He seems amused, but there’s a flicker of genuine interest over his face. Thumbing the knife in his grip, he asks quietly,

“And why is that, Your Highness?”

You don’t respond. Turning quickly to slip the notebook from beneath your pillow, the weighted canvas is heavy in your hand. His eyes widen as you swing it over him directly, and though it misses the target you had intended, you’re able to knock the dagger from his unsuspecting hands. 

But, you’re too sloppy as you dive for it. The man catches up to you easily, taking the window you struggle to pull you back into his chest as the knife clatters to the floor. You cry out as he forces your neck upwards, tears rushing to your eyes.

“Not so fast.'' He clenches his jaw, grip tightening over your throat as tears rush to your eyes. “I’ve heard how good you are with a knife.”

Fighting the darkness that threatens to invade your vision, you croak and claw at his arms. “If- if you didn’t kill the chamberlain, why are you here?”

“Cooperate, then I'll tell you.” The man grits. You let out a desperate groan.

In a hopeless attempt to gain leverage, you jump – he’d made the easy mistake of letting your feet touch the ground, giving your flailing limbs enough time to push into him. The nauseating sound of bone hitting bone suddenly resounds in the quiet room, though it’s moderately covered by the obstinate curses of the man behind you. He releases his grip on you reflexively. Coughing furiously, you shove your weight back into him with all of your might.

When he staggers, you take the opportunity to tackle him down, forcing your weight on top of him before he can counter. Now, as your legs straddle him, you hold the knife to his throat with one hand, the other holding one of his arms above his head.

Your captor’s body is completely relaxed, and though you know it’s a plot to get under your skin, it still scares you. 

“Name your price,” You rasp, voice still weak from being briefly cut off. “Or I’ll kill you myself.”

The man says nothing, hair mussed and breathing heavy. His reason for breaking in must be so clouded that it blinds his own reasoning. In your mutual struggle, his mask has started to slip further beneath his eyes, though it saddens you slightly to know you have no free hand to reveal the man’s identity completely.

Your jaw locks as you push the blade into his skin. It catches you off guard when you notice his face shifting into an incredulous smile.

“I would never take the money of a fake King."

You push him into the ground, taking note of the way he grunts in response. “Be quiet.”

The man’s short laugh splits the air, the beginning of a bruise blooming on the underside of his chin. 

A beat of uncomfortable silence passes between you. But, before the man can goad you any further, a shaking hand brings the knife away from his throat. In the most simple way, your thoughts are a jumble of wires – the shells of countless new plans that will never be anything more than inklings. 

Consequently, you barely think anything of it when you decide to turn away, nothing more guiding your panicked aim than your wildly beating heart. 

Even the man below you seems confused at your thought process. But as soon as the decorative vase sitting by the door shatters over the hard tile, he is competent enough to know that despite your compromising position, you are the only one of you who believes that you are fighting for your life. 

You half expect the noise to set him off. But, the incoming danger does nothing more than make him attempt to break away from you. 

You shout for anyone nearby before mustering the courage necessary to push him further into the tiled floor, cementing your palm into the nook of his wrists until he grimaces. A glimmer of something close to understanding rushes through his eyes.

“If you wanted to be close to me so bad, you could’ve said so.” He teases, though the fear in his voice is raw. It almost manages to catch you off guard.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you.” You spit, voice shaking as he attempts to fight back. Though you want to pride yourself in your ability to keep him down, something seems suspicious about it --  he had no problem overpowering you before, so a simple change in position shouldn’t be as important.

By now, you’ve certainly noticed the cerulean vision strapped to his hip, signifying his power threshold. Though, you’re unsure of whether his disuse of it frightens or relieves you more – he has certainly only been delaying the inevitable, but why?

It’s as if something had flipped in his mind. He’d certainly thought of something in his time since entering the room, but whether it was previous plans or an entirely new one, you don’t know.

Swallowing your doubts, you push more of your weight onto his arms. The man grunts.

“I don’t know what you want,” You breathe, force evident in your voice. “But you won’t get it.”

He conveniently manages to break out of your grip just as the door to your chambers slams open, a group of masked guards rushing in unhindered. You fall back onto the ground hard. But, as the man searches for a viable route of escape, one of the braver guards rushes forward to your side and yanks you out of harm’s way.

In their grip, you’re nothing but a bag of bones being strung along, stunned into silence. 

The criminal’s mask has since been adjusted back to its normal position, and yet, you still feel the depths of his sheathed gaze when it finds yours. A frown is evident on his face. 

“You’re going to regret this.” He speaks to you as if you’re still the only two in the room, focus inconveniently centred even as the guards in front of you begin to crowd him. A heavy hand comes up to ghost over the afflictions on your neck. The pain is fresh, blood adorning the shallow slit as well as a tightness that rests in the skin he had grabbed you. It will likely bruise. 

But, you can’t find it in you to take pleasure in the way that he fends off the guards – he seems a decent match for them, an excellent fighter in his own right, but he plays the same wretched game and only you are aware of it. The man’s punches are too sloppy to be natural, his footwork too elementary to belong to someone who had quietly replaced a guard without issue. 

Much to your chagrin, he’s soon placed in handcuffs. A jumble of threats courses through the room on the account of both parties. Though, you have to admit: however fake they may be, the man’s promises are certainly creative. 

But most of all, you take great pleasure in seeing the guards at last pull back his mask, revealing his face to the full extent.

You gut twists as stunning sapphire eyes meet yours in full capacity for the first time. You can’t help but shudder at the sense of familiarity his appearance lends you, despite his plain clothes and foul mouth. Even more surprising, though, is the way he immediately seems to recognise your train of thought – his gaze cuts deep into you even without the handicap of a physical blade.

However, the words he attempts to convey are lost on you. And rather than feel dejected, you find comfort in your inability to understand. Because when you see the scratches up his arms, and the bruise that blooms dark on his chin, you don’t let yourself forget that in the end, he has lost. 

He merely lets himself be pulled upright. Even if his eyes allude to pain, the man makes no effort to resist, nor to even elaborate as his form disappears beyond the doorway. He leaves almost entirely unscathed as you stand rigid in the scrapping he’d left behind.

You release a throaty cough, finally allowing yourself to sit up straighter from your tense position on the floor. There is very little you can do beyond touch the skin on your neck gingerly as the silence of the night begins to fade in. 

It’s only now that you notice the guard that had originally caught you has hung back, silently waiting for the right moment to act -- a patient approach, but unfortunately, not a helpful one. Your lips thin in a strained frown as tears finally begin to spill over your cheeks. 

The knight reaches out an armoured hand, concerned but mechanical -- this is merely his duty, not his want. You turn it down shakily, reeling back from his worry even if you want nothing more than for someone to be brave enough to look past your fear. 

“My lady--”

“Find Master Diluc. Now.” You choke out, gaze turning on him as you stand shakily. “I- I will make my way to the infirmary--”

They reach out a hand once again, but this time, when you see it coming, you freeze. 

The floor is hard against your body, and so, so unbearably real. You are not the farthest from death that you’ve ever been, but remembering the feeling of cool steel against your skin, you can’t help but wonder if it was closest. The gravity of the situation hits you all at once as the adrenaline drains from your blood.

The guard’s voice is distant as a mindful hand finally makes the jump to support you. Yet, as you choke on blood that you can’t touch, as desperation rises to your eyes, you realise you don’t have it in you to respond. You can do nothing but turn your painful gaze on them before you come so close to losing everything once again.

© tartaglicious 2022, please do not repost 

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐕 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒

characters : sanzu haruchiyo; imaushi wakasa; haitani ran; mitsuya takashi; hanemiya kazutora; sano shinichiro x gn!reader genre : slight angst if you squint; slightly suggestive in mitsuya's and kazutora's parts; fluffy fluffy fluffy warnings : none a/n : haikyuu version | hello :D i'm back from the ded yayayay don't worry i'm slowly working on my requests as well, pls be patient with me sobsobsob (not proofread bc yes) hope you enjoy my loves <3

SANZU pouted at you as you took away his bottle of pills, whining loudly at the glare you sent his way when he tried to get up from the couch he was laying on to get his treasured drugs back. “you’ve had enough, haruchiyo,” you scolded, putting the small bottle on top of the coffee table and sending a warning look to your boyfriend as a way to remind him that he cannot touch it.

before he could think of a scheme to get it back, you nestled into his arms, his body trapped under yours as you comfortably laid on him, nuzzling his neck and peppering his skin with small kisses while muttering about how he’ll start seeing sounds and hearing colors if he kept it up. you earned a low chuckle, sanzu’s hands finding your hair to play with it. you stayed in a comfortable silence, basking in each other’s warmth and touches. your eyes felt heavy, breath evening and limbs relaxing at the tender attention you were receiving. you felt sanzu kiss the top of your head softly, one hand stroking your back while the other caressed your hair, pulling your face slightly closer to the crook of his neck.

“i’m sorry i’m like this,” he whispered lowly against your hair, voice strained by the wave of emotions that suddenly crashed onto him when he realized how tired you probably were from his behavior, how the idea of leaving him behind has probably crossed your mind more than once and he wouldn’t even try stopping you because he knew, he was aware that he was too mu- “haru, baby, don’t say that,” you murmured, sensing his distress, “don’t apologize for the way you are,” and sanzu hated how understanding and loving you were towards him even when he was convinced he didn’t deserve any of this. yet you still found a way to make him believe that he mattered, and he hated how any word you would say, he would believe in.

you heard a sniffle and felt damp cheeks pressed to your head. raising up slightly, you wiped his tears with your thumbs, heart soft and warm at the devotion and love swimming in his entrancing blue eyes. you leaned down, kissing his scars softly before pressing a last kiss to his lips. “i love you, haru, i hope you know that. and i’ll never get tired of you, don’t be silly,” you playfully scolded and sanzu wanted to believe in your words, he wanted to believe in them so bad and so he did, pulling you into another kiss.

WAKASA’s lips curled into a little smile as he noticed you enter shinichiro’s shop, waiting for you in the garage where he was working on a bike. “hi doll,” he greeted you, wiping his hands on a towel you lended him and gesturing for you to stand between his parted legs. his hands rested on your waist, head slightly tilted up to look at you, lilac, slightly droopy eyes locking with yours as the usual deadpan expression he beheld was replaced with a small smile that never left his face with you around.

you leaned down, kissing his lips shortly, sweetly before pulling away, hands resting on his shoulders while his own found their way on your hips, thumbs drawing lazy circles over your clothes and sending slight shivers down your spine whenever they reached the skin beneath your shirt. “missed you sweetheart,” he confessed, taking your hand in his and pecking the back of it, chuckling at your flustered expression. wakasa then patted his lap, urging you to sit on his thigh which you ended up doing after making sure no one was around, arms wrapped around his neck while his hand rested on your knees.

“tell me about your day,” wakasa asked, fingers dancing lightly on your thighs, palms stroking over your legs from time to time. your boyfriend nosed at your cheek playfully, kissing it tenderly as he listened with unwavering attention the sweet melody of your voice telling him with extra detail what happened during your day, his only replies being quiet hums and inaudible ‘yeah?’’s whispered against your skin, face buried into your neck while leaving butterfly-like kisses over the delicate flesh and smiling softly at your barely swallowed down giggles while asking him to stop teasing you and let you finish - which he, of course, didn’t.

before you could finish rambling about how you were excited about the date you two had scheduled a few days ago for this weekend, you heard a loud sigh and - already knowing who it belonged to - you turned your head towards the garage’s entrance where you found shinichiro rolling his eyes at the scene unfolding before him - you sitting on his friend’s lap while the latter was nuzzling into your neck. “jealous much?” wakasa teased, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “shut up,” the eldest sano grumbled, leaving you two chuckling into each other’s arms.

RAN sighed in content as he leaned his back against the marble of the bathtub. his knees were bent, legs spread as you comfortably sat between them, your own back leaning against his chiseled chest. the water was warm, borderline hot, light dimmed and a few scented candles were melting around the bathroom, their scent tickling your nostrils gently and drawing a soft smile on your lips while ran’s hands massaged your hair and stiff shoulders.

you felt at ease there, sitting between ran’s long, skinny limbs, his arms wrapping around your middle to keep you still and close against him. “m’feel good, pretty,” he mumbled behind you, his head dropping on your bare, damp shoulder and sighing contently while you placed your hands on the ones resting on your stomach. you answered with a hum, skin tingling with the open-mouth kisses ran left on your shoulder before moving to your neck, playfully biting on the delicate flesh and chuckling lowly as you yelped. you could fall asleep like this if it weren't for ran’s occasional bites on your skin. the warm bath made you feel sleepy, ran’s low humming almost lulling you into a peaceful slumber while the hot water helped you relaxing your sore muscles.

you started noticing a shift in his touches, turning softer, gentler, his playful bites turning into tender pecks as he whispered sweet nothings into the shell of your ear, pressing his lips against your cheek with every praise he lovingly cooed at you. “m’love ya baby,” he drawled out, turning your head to push his lips against yours. “ran, m’tired,” you muttered, against his mouth. “you’re tired?” he repeated with a soft tone, a loving smile curling his lips up as he gazed down at you with adoration. you leaned back against him, eyes droopy with exhaustion as you nodded. through your sleepy haze, you heard ran get out of the water and soon enough, you were bundled in a warm towel after ran had rushed to put on a pair of sweatpants.

gently, he dressed you into a shirt of his and bottoms, laying a kiss on your forehead as he chuckled with the way you blinked up at him, a tired smile drawn on your face. “you’re so cute,” he breathlessly laughed, squishing your cheeks between his hands, lilac eyes softening with fondness when you whined something about wanting to sleep. “there, there pretty thing,” he cooed, scooping you into his arms, “let’s get you to sleep, hm?” ran walked into the bedroom, laying on the soft mattress before joining you, his arms finding their way around your waist to pull you into his chest. you nestled into ran’s arms, face nuzzling into his neck as you smiled when he layed a last kiss on the top of your head. “sweet dreams love.”

MITSUYA’s fingers flew over your body, leaving father light touches that had you squirming where you stood, your blood rushing to your face in hot waves and you hoped takashi couldn’t feel the heat under his fingertips when he cupped your face with his warm hands, tilting your head up as he whispered something about almost being over with his current work. you simply nodded, not trusting your voice and barely registering his words with the way his soft lips brushed against yours, hot breath fanning over your mouth with every word.

“stay still for me, love,” mitsuya mumbled lowly, leaning back slightly to make sure the measuring tape was straight. you gulped as quietly as you could when you got a clear view of his face. dark and lavender strands falling gracefully over his attractive features, one hand tilting his glasses back up before grabbing the pen behind his ear in a swift motion. his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, lips jutted out slightly as he focused on his work and you had to physically stop yourself from cooing at how endearing he looked the longer he stayed concentrated. you had the urge to lean forward and press your lips against his forehead just to watch his features relax even just a little and his smile light up his face in a warm glow and - oh, you were so stupidly in love you thought. you didn’t notice you were smiling until mitsuya called out your name.

“what were you thinking about?” he asked, not removing the measuring tape from around your waist while throwing his pen and glasses on the desk next to him where all the you’ve been helping him with today was lying. gazing into his lavender eyes, you didn’t think twice before answering “you,” only to slap your hand against your mouth once you’ve realized what you’ve just uttered. embarrassment rushed into you in big waves at the sound of your boyfriend’s amused chuckle, his fingers lightly pinching your cheek as he looked at you with overwhelming love swimming in his entrancing irises.

“you’re so cute,” he smiled, tugging on the measuring tape to pull you even closer to him, hands dropping the material so they could replace it, gently resting on your waist while his thumbs circled your sides softly, fingers sparking a fire on your skin through your clothes. “such a pretty thing,” he cooed lovingly, relishing in the way you tried to escape his gaze. one hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting your head up so you could meet his eyes once again despite your whining. “don’t go shy on me now,” he teased, kissing your lips sweetly. “we’re only getting started.”

KAZUTORA hummed happily as he stuffed his mouth full with the pastry you ordered for him at the café you two stopped by, an adorable smile tugging at his lips at the sweet strawberry-flavored cream melting on his tongue. you chuckled at his behavior, leaning over the table to wipe the side of his lips with your thumb and smiling at how his happy little dance stopped short when you licked your finger clean, teasingly winking at his flushed face and laughing when he looked away from you, grumbling something under his breath. so cute, you internally cooed.

ever since his release a few weeks ago, you made it your goal to show kazutora around and help him get used to his new environment - and mostly, his new life. you dragged him into chifuyu’s pet shop a week after he got his freedom where he now worked at and you urged him to follow you around every weekend so you could make him visit the town during your dates. and kazutora couldn’t be more thankful to have you by his side when you were so patiently waiting for him for ten years, paying him visits every time you could and now this, you helping him get accustomed to his new chance at life. at the sight of the tears brimming his honey-colored eyes, you couldn’t help the panic that settled in you, eyes widening and words stuck in your throat.

“kazu, angel, why are you crying?” you inquired, changing spots so you could sit beside him. “did i do something wrong?” you questioned, receiving a shy shake of his head in response. his hair cascaded down his shoulders in dark and blonde waves, earring jingling with his every move and he looked devastatingly beautiful despite the tears spilling down his flushed cheeks, shoulders shaking as hiccups fell down his cherry-colored lips and you felt a rush of guilt when you couldn’t stop yourself from finding him pretty even while. you had other matters at hand right now, you reminded yourself. “do you want to go home?” you asked, burying your previous thoughts away as guilt ate you up when his glassy eyes met yours.

“no,” he croaked out, shaky hand grabbing yours. “i’m just s-so grateful t-to have you w-with me,” he admitted, stuttering and hiccuping and you hated yourself for finding him so adorable. “i’ll always be there, angel,” you cooed lovingly, cupping his face and pressing a sweet, short kiss to his red-bitten lips. “promise i won’t ever leave you,” you breathed out against his mouth, feeling his breath stutter at your words and more tears started streaming down his pretty face as you sealed your promise with another kiss, smiling at the sweet taste of strawberries meeting your tongue.

SHINICHIRO’s heart performed little somersaults in his chest at the feeling of your hands gripping his shirt tighter, arms secured around his slim waist and squeezing whenever he sped up his motorcycle. the streetlights were passing by quickly, almost too fast, cold air slapping your face as a wide smile spread over your features. you relished in this freeing feeling, this carelessness. you were convinced your boyfriend was smiling as he revved his engine, speeding up every once in a while just to feel you cling to him.

it was a rather chilly summer night and you were glad that the eldest of the sano family had wrapped his jacket around your shoulders despite your whining when he picked you up earlier. at a red light, shinichiro turned around to face you. “feel good, doll?” he asked, smiling softly at the enthusiastic nod you offered as an answer. he chuckled then, turning forwards once the light turned green and drove around the city for long minutes that passed by too quickly in your opinion. an hour or two later, you found yourself in front of your house, saying goodbye to your boyfriend, remembering how he had asked you out in the same spot two weeks earlier with a smile on your face.

shinichiro placed his hand on the back of your head, using it to pull you close and kiss your forehead. “good night, pretty,” he smiled at you, “i’ll text you in the morning,” he then said, turning around to get to his bike. but before he could step out of the porch, you reached for his hand and pulled him back to you, shyly looking down in an attempt to hide your incapacity of forming your request with words without burning in shame under his unwavering dark gaze. so you did the first thing that came to your mind.

slowly, you reached for his hair at the back of his head, pulling his face closer to yours and you watched in endearment and amusement how his face turned red at the sudden proximity, how your lips brushed against each other’s as you gazed into his eyes. before he could wuss out - as wakasa tended to say - you pressed your lips against his, taking your time to roam your fingers through his hair and pulling away with a satisfied smile on your face, opening the door to your house and shutting it behind you after shouting a see ya tomorrow, baby! and leaving a crimson, stunned and speechless shinichiro behind.

reblogs are highly appreciated!

You really didn’t think you could love Shinichiro more than you already did.

None of you both had ever been big fans of love. Not even in an edgy love-isn’t-real way, but love simply didn’t matter that much, nor it was something you both went out looking for in life.

Even after a year and a half of being together, you still couldn’t tell much difference from when you were “just friends”, apart from the kissing.

But whenever you got to catch a glimpse of Shinichiro around his younger brother and his friends, something in you could feel it.

“Oi, Mikey, who even let y’all in here, huh? Shouldn’t you be at school?”, Shin’s voice echoed in the garage, and you giggled, sat on the motorbike he was cleaning.

He wiped his hands with a towel, the cloth now dirty with oil, and he rubbed his forehead with the back of his wrist, eyes fixed on his brother and two of his friends. They looked at you, sweet smiles on their faces, but eyes colored with mischief.

You shrugged when your boyfriend turned to look at you, a playful grin plastered on his features.

“Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t me!”, you defended yourself, but shoot the kids a wink.

A yelp left your throat when you felt Shin’s hands wrap around your wrists, pulling you to his dirty body, wrapping his arms around your waist and he laughed.

“Leave her alone, pervert”, his younger brother spoke, holding back his laughter as your boyfriend let go of you to give him an offended look.

“Yeah, she’s waaayyy too pretty for you, Shinichiro”, Keisuke said, and you laughed, but were fast to take the dirty cloth from Shin’s hand before he threw it to the kid.

“Baji’s right, we hope you know you could do better, Y/n”, it was a surprise to see Draken join, but it didn’t disappoint, and you laughed again at Shin’s shocked expression.

He walked over to the three kids, messing Mikey and Baji’s hair with his hands, and lightly tapping Draken’s forehead as he clicked his tongue.

The boys laughed as he explained to them how, ‘as literal babies with zero girlfriends in total, they were in no place to comment on his relationship, but he would gladly give them advice if they ever needed it’

The kids rolled their eyes, hiding their blushed cheeks when the older boy pointed out how they were only being little bitches to him because they were jealous because of how beautiful you were, and how they all liked you so much, before giving you a fast goodbye and running out of the garage.

“Those kids, I swear…”, he started speaking as he turned back to you, rolling his eyes with a grin in his lips. He always had that look on his eyes when they were around, like he wanted to make them laugh, to take care of them, “So young and so fucking annoy— mhpm!”.

You cut him off with a kiss, to which he answered by wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close.

“What was that for, doll..? You’ve got your pretty face all dirty with oil now, dumm—”.

“You’ll be a great dad one day, Shin”, you said, and he closed his mouth, looking at you with gentle eyes and a playful grin, “We’ll be the best parents to ever walk Earth, right?”.

“I promise you we will”.

𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬

this just popped into my head, and now I will proceed to make it everyone’s problem

includes: Itadori Yuuji, Megumi Fushiguro, Gojou Satoru, Inumaki Toge, Nanami Kento, Junpei Yoshino and Ryomen Sukuna

enjoy my little simps, I hope I have fed you well

❥ {𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢} in the morning, when the sun was still shining through the window. The golden light illuminating every cute detail on his face. His cheek squished against you. His head; on your chest. His hair; a mess, while your fingers twist, twirl and weed out the knots in his beautiful locks. Not wanting to wake him up, you gently run your other hand down his spine, your fingers leaving goosebumps along his bare back.

❥ {𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨} Megumi loves making breakfast with you. Just cooking breakfast and laughing while repeatedly kissing each other. To anyone else, you both would’ve looked drunk, both giggling and fawning over the other; like lovesick idiots. There would be no need to get fully dressed because after the pancakes finished cooking, you’d be lying on the couch; watching tv, but mostly just cuddling

❥ {𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮} Gojou brought you little foods while in bed, a fruit cup, a little pastry (he probably got it from Safeway) and a glass of fruit juice- it wasn’t much, really. He brushed away the hair on your face, gently kissing your forehead, and placed the tray in front of you. While whispering “good morning love” while moving his lips from your forehead, down to your lips, giving you a soft ‘good morning kiss’ (which he always insists on having).

❥ {𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞} like every morning with Inumaki, you lay with him in your arms. His back pressed against your lower body, while his head rested on your chest. The shampoo he used (which was strawberry and lavender scented) was the only thing you spelled, as your face pressed into his hair, leaving you in an uncomfortable position- but not wanting to move, you wouldn’t risk waking him up, he’s too cute!

❥ {𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨} Nanami has to leave for work fairly early, so it’s rare that you get mornings like his with him. You woke alone in the bed (per usual), but the smell of freshly cooked food wasn’t something you’re used to. You sauntered over to the kitchen, peaking your head around the corners before you went any farther. There, standing in the kitchen, was Nanami, wearing an apron and cooking breakfast for the both of you.

❥ {𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐞𝐢 𝐘𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨} Junpei spends most mornings alone, but the day came where he finally had someone to spend his morning with. He woke up to the smell of your hair, with your body pressed against his, your arm draped over his abdomen, while your cheeks pressed into his chest. You looked so comfy; he didn’t dare move. When he first saw you, he did not know that he’d be waking up to the sight of you like this.

❥ {𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚} Sukuna had finally convinced Itadori to let him have the morning with you. You’ll wake up, turn over on your side expecting to face Itadori’s bright smile and cheerful eyes, only to get Sukuna’s devilish smirk and handsome tattoos. Pulling you in, he pushed his face into your neck. Be warned, he may nibble at it, but mostly, he just wants the feeling that he’s the only one who can get close to you like this.

I'm fine lol *screams into pillow*

KISSING YOU BREATHLESS!!

A/n; waaaaaaaaa

Genre; a bit suggestive

Characters; scaramouche, albedo, xiao, diluc, childe, kaeya, ayato x gn! reader

- After a long trip, SCARAMOUCHE misses you, really much. He misses the way you give him hugs everyday before going to work, he misses your smile and your voice. The second he sees you again, he pulls your body close into a long and relentless kiss, arms wrapped completely around your waist.

- You often find ALBEDO eyes glued to your lips, whats so special about them you wonder? One day, when he's busy working on paperwork, you curiously ask, he tilts his head up to find you longingly staring back, he couldn't resist the urge to stand up and pull your face, smashing his lips onto yours.

- XIAO prefers getting intimate with you in private, he doesn't really like show you off to others, but somehow everyone knows you're dating him, maybe it's the visible hickies he left on your neck?

- DILUC will slowly lean down to pepper little kisses on your forehead, making his way to your nose, cheek then your lips, messily making out with you, his kisses are hot, but at the same time gentle.

- CHILDE secretly likes it when you take control, grabbing him by his collar and aggressively make out with him. By the time you pull apart, his face was red, almost passing out, not that he's complaining tho.

- KAEYA often finds himself sneaking his arms around your waist, a sly smile plastered on his face, he doesn't care if it’s in public or private, who would care if they saw two couples making out?

- AYATO tilts your chin to his face then kneels down to capture your lips with his, hungrily savoring every single thing you have to offer, one hand holding your head to pull you in closer, pulling apart taking short second breaks, you could feel his hot breath against your skin.

MASTERLIST

Thanks for reading <3

hihi!! i was wondering if its possible to do a headcanon for mikey, draken, chifuyu, kazutora, and takashi (mitsuya), where they’re returning to their lover’s home in the middle of the night after a fight they had because of (any reason, maybe someone else talking bad about them so the boys defend their name) and they patch them up? just some fluffy stuff with the boys growing sleepy and falling asleep on them as they do so? 🥺 thank you lots, tee!!

𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: sano manjiro, matsuno chifuyu, mitsuya takashi, ryuguji ken, hanemiya kazutora

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sobsobsob imagine them defending your pride ugh he’s a keeper if he does bye

✿ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐘 pouts when you pull out the rubbing alcohol, grabbing your wrist and eyeing it unhappily. “i don’t need that,” he argues. with a scowl, you snatch your hand out of his grip, narrowing your eyes at him as you dab some onto a gauze. “mikey, it’s three am, i’m not in the mood to argue. don’t get into fights so often if you don’t like the clean up,” you grumble, pressing it to the gash on his side, making him hiss and grit his teeth. “ow! i defend your honor and this is my thanks?” he whines, dropping his head to your shoulder. pausing, you bring a hand to his head, threading through the messy locks as you take in his words. “defending my—you fought for that?” nodding, he hugs your waist, pressing soft kisses to your neck. “well, yeah. had to teach ‘em.” you pull away, sighing as you take in his appearance, frowning when you notice bruises appearing that hadn’t been there earlier. furrowing you’re eyebrows, you shake your head. “that’s not worth getting into a—” but he cuts you off immediately. “i was gentle this time. next time i won’t be,” he says firmly, and you know it’s useless arguing. and even if a part of you crumbles at the sight of him hurt, your heart flutters at how he protects you even when you’re not there. with a sigh, you kiss his nose before pulling him back into a hug, rubbing his back and threading through his hair with your fingers while he yawns into the crook of your neck. slowly, he grows limp in your hold, making you chuckle as you decide to let him stay like that for a bit.

✿ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐘𝐔 groans as you wrap the bandage around his arm tightly, watching as you look up at him with pursed lips. “keep that the way i put it, okay?” you say sternly, making him sigh defeatedly. “fine. told you i was fine though,” he mumbles, offering you a hasty smile when you glare. “any other injuries i should know about? and don’t hide them,” you warn, making him ponder for a moment before he smiles smugly at you. pointing to his busted lip, he pouts. “my lip’s in bad condition. i need you to fix it.” rolling your eyes, you can’t fight off your grin. “oh? how exactly?” he pokes your forehead, making you laugh and gently shove his hand away. “you know how,” he insists. with a shake of your head, you press a few light pecks to his lip before gently nudging him into your bed, helping him strip off his shirt and settle under the blanket. you follow right after and let him lay on your chest as you card your fingers through his hair. “don’t be mad, okay? i wasn’t looking for trouble. they just made trouble dragging your name into it,” he grumbles, yawning as his eyelids feel heavier from the soothing drag of your nails across his scalp. your heart melts at the lengths he’d went through for your sake, hugging him closer. “you always get into trouble. gotta keep my eye on you, always,” you chuckle, making him smile into your shirt as you tug the blanket over his body and cover him better as he loses himself to sleep, you pressing one last kiss to his forehead.

✿ 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐘𝐀 knocks on your window apologetically, quietly stepping in and pecking your lips before following you to the bathroom. rubbing some dirt off his cheek, your face drops as you take in the cuts littering his collarbone, making his heart squeeze. “sorry, baby,” he mumbles sheepishly. “i told you to be careful,” you frown, helping him tug his shirt over his shoulders. “i was trying. but then they brought you up and i kinda lost it,” he rubs his neck, leaning into your hand when you cradle his face. he presses a soft kiss to your palm, offering you a reassuring smile. you sigh, bringing out the first aid kit and pulling out things you’ll need, only to be stopped by him bringing you into his chest, letting your cheek press against his bare skin. “you should’ve dropped it, you know. don’t want you hurt for my sake,” you say softly, making him scoff. “think i’m weak? that can’t even defend my baby’s name, huh?” giggling, you shake your head, grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks together gently. pressing a soft kiss to his lips, you comb your fingers through his hair before you tend to his wounds, his expression soft as he admires you. somehow, mitsuya always finds a way to lighten the air, and you feel yourself soften at his loyalty. “you know that’s not what i meant,” you huff. he hums, leaning his head against the wall and dozing off, making you catch his head as it lolls forward, rolling your eyes with a smile as he grins sheepishly again. “sorry, ‘m drained,” he whispers, following you as you drag him to bed and pull him in with you.

✿ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 stalks in quietly, not meeting your gaze, his eyes downcast on the floor as you sigh. it’s quiet as you stand between his legs, him sat in the bathroom with his shirt off, watching as you carefully clean the cuts and bandage them. “here, hold this,” you quietly murmur, pressing an ice pack to a particularly bad bruise. “thanks,” he mumbles. he still doesn’t meet your eyes, guilt creeping up on him when he notices you stifle a yawn, but gently, you gather his face in your hands, thumb tracing the edge of a cut on his cheek. “what was it this time, ken?” he almost thinks you’re tired of him for a moment, but the delicate kiss to his forehead makes him relax, reminding him you’re still here. his free arm wraps around your torso as he leans his forehead against yours. “had some low-life’s mention you. taught ‘em a lesson,” he grumbles, and you can hear the slight edge to his voice as he remembers the events. shaking your head, you fight back a smile—because draken’s always there, even when he’s not, and it makes your heart beat erratically. “you’re so dumb,” you huff, but he hears the smile in your words, and one of his own stretch across his lips too. “yeah, right. you’re welcome,” he chuckles, relishing in the soft kisses you place along his jaw as you hold his face. eyes closed and growing heavy, his breath starts to slow, making you tap his cheek gently. “don’t sleep here, you idiot,” you chide, making his lips pout slightly, groaning as he rubs his eyes. “come on, i’m tired,” he grabs your hand, bringing you to lay on your bed as he curls around your body.

✿ 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 clutches onto your shirt as you turn to clean up the materials, making you turn to him in concern. gently brushing away a few strands of hair from his face, you grab his hand, gliding your thumb over his knuckles. “what’s wrong? something hurt? i can—” he cuts you off, leaning his head into your shoulder, burying his face into your neck. “no, nothing’s wrong. just stay,” he murmurs, making a soft smile paint your face as you rub his back soothingly, being careful not to apply too much pressure to his bruises. sighing, you kiss his temple, glancing down at the bloodied gauzes. “you need to be smarter about the fights you pick. that was way too many people to take on alone,” you scold gently. kazutora frowns into your skin, hugging you tighter, shaking his head. “no, they brought you into it. nobody gets away with that,” he mutters. and you know you’re precious to him, it’s no secret, he makes sure to remind you how important you are, how much of an impact you bring to his life—but times like these remind you how much of an impact he has on you too. he’s always put it all on the line for you. “i love you, you know. i don’t like it when you’re hurt,” you whisper, and he slumps more weight into you, nuzzling deeper into your warmth as you encompass him with your embrace. he lets out a soft snore, making you sigh, shaking your head with a chuckle—but you don’t have the heart to wake him just yet, eyes softening as you take in his features for a bit.

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂ꨄ

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤: 𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑢𝑐, 𝐾𝑎𝑒𝑦𝑎, 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑎, 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑒, 𝑍ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖, 𝑋𝑖𝑎𝑜, 𝐾𝑎𝑧𝑢ℎ𝑎, 𝐴𝑙𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑜, 𝑉𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖

ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣: 𝑔𝑛/𝑓/𝑚

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓☁︎︎

♥︎𝗗𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗰

•𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮/𝙣 : 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦/𝑛? 𝑀ℎ 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦’𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑟. 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡? 𝐷𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒 , 𝑎𝑚 𝑖 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑜? 𝐴-𝐴ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟... 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒 ... 𝐴𝑛𝑦𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑦/𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑛? 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

♡︎𝗞𝗮𝗲𝘆𝗮

•𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮/𝙣 : 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑦/𝑛~ 𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔... 𝐴𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠? 𝐷𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖, 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟. 𝐻𝑎ℎ𝑎ℎ𝑎ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤?

(𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙨𝙤 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩~)

♥︎𝗧𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗮

•𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮/𝙣 : 𝑢ℎ? 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒? 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒!𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟! 𝐼-𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑠𝑘 𝑙𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝐴𝑦𝑎𝑘𝑎 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑢𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑜, 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘? 𝑀𝑦 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒.

♡︎𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗲

•𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮/𝙣 : 𝑎ℎℎ 𝑦/𝑛 ... 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒... 𝐴𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑖 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑖 𝑑𝑜 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡? 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒! 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑦/𝑛, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑖𝑡. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛’𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦?

♥︎𝗭𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗶

•𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮/𝙣 : 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑤 𝑦𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑢𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑦 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓? 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦, 𝑤𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟... 𝐴-𝐴ℎ 𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡. 𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑡.

♡︎𝗫𝗶𝗮𝗼

•𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮/𝙣 : 𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒? 𝑂ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔? 𝐺𝑜 𝑜𝑛 𝑖’𝑚 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦/𝑛 ? 𝐽𝑈𝑆𝑇 𝐴 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝑈𝑇𝐸 𝐴𝐺𝑂?! 𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑜𝑡, 𝑚ℎ𝑝ℎ . 𝑀ℎℎ 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡, 𝑖’𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 ... 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦? 𝑁-𝑁𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑖 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤.

♥︎𝗞𝗮𝘇𝘂𝗵𝗮

•𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮/𝙣 : 𝑎 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟? 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒? 𝑂ℎ 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑦/𝑛 , 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒, 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑖 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑚ℎ𝑚ℎ. 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑏𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒 , 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜 𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑠 . 

♡︎𝗔𝗹𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗼

•𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮/𝙣: 𝑖 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦/𝑛 𝑚ℎℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐾𝑙𝑒𝑒? 𝐻𝑎ℎ𝑎 𝑦𝑒𝑠, 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑖 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐾𝑙𝑒𝑒 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚. 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐾𝑙𝑒𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑤𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑡, 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚?

♥︎𝗩𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶

•𝘼𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮/𝙣 : 𝐻𝑎ℎ𝑎ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑦/𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒? 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑎𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒! 𝐷𝑖𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒? 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑖 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑢𝑝. 𝐻𝑒ℎ𝑒ℎ𝑒 𝑖’𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑚 𝑖?

todoroki touya isn’t a despicable man.

at least, you don’t think he is.

not as he gently holds your hand in his, applying rubbing alcohol with a cotton ball to make sure your cut doesn’t get infected — wrapping it in a bandage, making sure it isn’t too incredibly tight.

“ya gotta be more careful,” he starts, looks up at you with such tenderness you want to be drowned in all of his love. “or what will ya do when i’m not ‘round?”

“it was an accident, i’m always careful.”

“obviously not careful enough.”

you rest your head against his chest, sigh. the sound of his beating heart blends with the sound of rain and you look down at the way touya still holds onto your hand — softly, lovingly.

todoroki touya is a good lover, you think.

and not only because he bandages your hand, but because he makes you feel safe in the wee hours of the night — when there’s thunder, when you have a nightmare. because he feeds you cantaloupe on hot summer days out on your balcony, because you feel him pour his love into your heart and soul as he holds you by the waist as you shower.

you stare up at him, sheepish smile on your face. “then you’ll have to stay with me forever, huh?” you lean back again, wrap your arms around his neck.

“yeah,” he caresses your cheek with his thumb and you feel that tender love again. “i guess so.”

it’s quiet — todoroki touya doesn’t think he deserves your sweet loving, thinks he doesn’t deserve to wake up next to you every morning.

and as if you feel his silent doubts and worries, you smile, kiss him. “i love you.”

because todoroki touya deserves the universe, not the cruel world. he deserves the moon and the stars and every flower plucked by your hands (because, you think, you’d like to give every single one to him).

his breath catches in his throat. “i love you, too.”

todoroki touya isn’t a despicable man.

at least, you don’t think he is.

not when he’s handed you his heart on a silver platter and not when he treats you with such gentleness.

thanks for reading ⋆ ˚｡⋆˚⸜(♡ ॑ᗜ ॑♡)⸝ ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆ reblogs are appreciated !