ˢ/ᵒ ᵃˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ

a bolt from the blue | royalty au

✦ kazuha. scaramouche. kaeya. x gn!reader

✦ tags: descriptions of anxiety (nothing explicit) in scaramouche's part. arranged marriages. historical!au. royalty!au.

for not all encounters in life are tinted in rose-colored lenses, showered in sparkles, nor does a symphony of music spring out of nowhere. sometimes it’s a little clumsy, often wholly unexpected — but it’s human, and life-changing all the same.

kazuha *. ⋆ breaking free

"are you lost, your highness?"

you freeze — as if you'd been seized red-handed committing an act of treason — turning your head slowly to the unforeseen guest while the leg you were halfway through swinging off the balcony remains suspended in the air.

"uh ... no?" you cleared your throat, raised your chin, and tried your best to muster as much dignity as you could — not an easy feat, considering your current plight was downright scandalous and truly unbecoming for a royal.

"i'm quite certain that this is the swiftest escape route, so you shall have to excuse me," you wave a dismissive hand airily. "carry on, good sir."

the gentleman takes a few steps forward, red cloak falling from his shoulders gracefully as he leans over the balcony.

he places a careful hand atop your ankle as he peers down below. "i doubt you'll end up unscathed with this high of a fall."

you shrug, mostly unbothered. "i'll take my chances. anything to escape that awfully stifling room and its attendees."

his mouth turns into a small, conspiratorial smile. "then the winds must have been kind, for it was i they brought you."

you raise an eyebrow, ultimately abandoning your earlier plans to leave by placing your foot back down. "consider my interest piqued. why do you say so?" you ask, smoothing out your garments.

"for i have first-hand experience in fleeing and running away."

the emblazoned gold and red rendering of maple leaves on his clothing glinted under the moonlight, and finally, it hits you.

"you're KAZUHA, sole heir and last prince of the kaedehara lineage," you surmise, dipping your chin. "i apologize for the late greeting and the shameful display i put on moments ago, your grace."

the man next to you was a prince, the last of his bloodline, who'd been rumored to escape the confines of inazuman royalty by stowing away on a ship.

news of his disappearance had spread like wildfire among the upper echelons of high society — and you'd likewise heard that the entire aristocracy had been in an uproar at his return.

"please, call me kazuha." he shakes his head, presenting you with a polite bow. "as expected, you're as clever as they've described. it's a pleasure to meet you."

"i found myself in great envy when i heard you'd manage to roam lands around freely, bereft from the burden of responsibilities."

his eyes take on a faraway look when he says, "both lives have their ... tribulations. though i must admit, i did prefer it."

you fall silent for a moment — watching him — before he shakes off his reverie. he faces you fully, fingers softly tapping atop the marble ledge.

"then what prompted you to return?" you ask.

the side of his mouth twitches, as if he'd been expecting you to ask him, and as if he'd prepared an answer for it already. his slight smirk made him appear even more charming under the moon's grace.

"perhaps i've learned about a certain royal figure well-loved by their people, and who've i've only heard good stories about on my travels, so i longed to see them for myself."

sparks consumed your skin with the way he stared at you, as if you were worthy of worship and of his high praise. here, on the balcony, away from the festivities, it was hard for your knees not to resemble pudding.

"well, i hope you weren't disappointed." you turn away, gazing longingly towards the world beyond instead. "though i'm afraid their tales did not inform you that they've been stuck in a cage their whole entire life."

from inside, the orchestra begins to transition into their next section of ballads. kazuha takes a step back, before offering a hand.

he tilts his head slightly. an invitation. "then shall i break you free, your highness?"

and without any hesitation, you easily slip your fingers into his palm, excitement quivering in your stomach. he tightens his grip, his thumb brushing your knuckles once.

he wore a pleased smile — the kind that could melt the coldest of hearts and simultaneously make bystanders swoon — and to your not-so-dismay, it proved to be awfully hard to say no under his influence.

you take a deep breath. "just for tonight."

"that's more than enough time."

and he leads you into a dance that has you both hiding behind marble pillars, your bodies pressed close enough to ward off the cold night air, twirling behind large drapes, and in a fit of hushed laughter, all while kazuha skillfully weaves you through the patrolling guards.

once you reach past the royal gates, you're both breathless, and not once, has he dropped your hand. he only tugs you along. closer. faster. away from everything.

and for the first time in forever, you don't look back.

scaramouche *. ⋆ an accidental misstep

you take a heaving breath as you push open the embellished doors and step into the ballroom.

perhaps arriving late wasn't the most well-thought-of plan you've had up to date, but it was far more preferable than being announced. the music and raucous chitchat falter slightly as you enter and you feel the weight of everyone's eyes on you.

it's heavy. suffocating. prying.

you should never have come here.

it was a foolish idea — one that you'd been unwillingly forced to.

you hardly considered yourself ready for everything this evening entailed, barely equipped with any etiquette lessons, and so hurriedly pushed into a world so foreign. so daunting. so far from your own.

you would, most undoubtedly, fail.

you would conceivably stumble on your feet, pronounce someone's name wrong, forget their verbose title, and from which branch of their family tree they hailed, and everyone would shun you, your entire household, and you'd never be able to —

panic grips you, its icy claws digging down, down, down, into your chest. you unknowingly take a hasty step back as blood pounds in your ears and your breathing turns laborious.

you bump into someone, making you fearfully whip around, like a spooked kitten. the heavy ball of dread in your stomach is justifiable, as you recognize the person you've just slammed into with encroaching horror.

SCARAMOUCHE, bearing the 6th seat among the harbingers, stared at you icily. they were the highest-ranking diplomats from the neighboring kingdom of snezhnaya, who managed to exude power, nobility, and authority from their portraits alone.

if you had trouble breathing earlier, your lungs had definitely ceased functioning now. the air felt even more constricted now that you were face to face with one of them in person.

"you stepped on my foot," scaramouche states blandly. already, his tone was frigid enough to freeze champagne. unduly apathetic. overly superior.

you inwardly cringe. he would probably demand your own legs as recompense, and in all truth, you were quite willing to get down on your knees.

"i'm so sorry," you whispered, trying and failing to suppress the tremble in your voice.

his gaze narrows as they linger on you, long lashes framing his perfectly jeweled eyes. eager now to put as much distance as possible between you while you still had your legs, you attempt to slip away.

his arm shoots out to capture your wrist, looping your arm in his with one fluid gesture. "i have no need for formalities. come," he commanded lowly.

you find yourself unable to refuse, realizing halfway through that he was leading you across and into the middle of the ballroom floor. your entire skin felt as if it had turned green.

the orchestra began playing the first strains of a waltz. scaramouche cocks his head, arching an eyebrow.

he'd brought you here to dance. with him.

despite the discomfort in your chest for being the object of numerous curious stares, you take the hand he extends out of courtesy.

under the dim chandelier light, he looked as achingly handsome as he was intimidating; and thus, you two commenced a sequence of familiar steps.

"i expect my feet to remain unharmed after this bothersome charade," he mutters.

you tip your head down, keeping your attention trained on your feet to take careful and measured steps.

scaramouche impatiently clicks his tongue. he lifts your face with a finger under your chin, exerting the gentlest pressure possible to meet your eyes.

your lips part open, and his own eyes flit down to them, lightning-quick, before he berates, "it's basic etiquette to look at your partner."

an apology reflexively bubbles on your tongue. "i'm sorry—" you begin, but he swings you around in a graceful arc abruptly.

when he sweeps you back into his arms, and the distance between you closes again, he lazily asks, "is your vocabulary that limited?"

you swallow. your breathing, while still erratic, no longer sounded quite so panicked. perhaps you could permit yourself some consolation, seeing as he meant no harm.

"i'm terribly anxious. i ... never had any desire to be here," you admit, unsure why you found it so easy to bare such a dark corner of yourself. perhaps his uncouth manner had rubbed off on you. "the way people stare is unpleasant."

at this, the corner of his mouth lifts up the slightest, eyes gleaming with amusement, and ... something else. he'd rewarded you with a smirk, as if he was pleased with you for speaking your mind.

he tightens his grip on your waist slightly, putting his lips very close to your ear before murmuring, "let them look. it would be a pity if you denied them the sight of you."

as you keep your attention designated on him, only then do you realize how he pierces onlookers with his haughtiest stare. you hadn't even noticed since you'd been so preoccupied with ensuring you'd be a worthy enough partner for someone of his status.

he'd been shielding you, trying to soothe your distress — even if the means were a bit questionable.

when he returns his gaze to you, a satisfied smile plays on his lips to find you already looking at him.

"good," he praised in velvet tones, making your heart stutter. "keep your eyes solely on me."

kaeya *. ⋆ an unlikely twist of fate

you wiped the sweat from your brow as you finished tying all your bedsheets and drapes together into one long rope.

you had no intentions of being wed. your siblings had abdicated their titles for a myriad of reasons, leaving you the only alternative to be married off to khaenri'ah's last heir.

to describe your circumstances bluntly, your only role was to continue their lineage for the sake of peace and prosperity between your kingdom and theirs.

you've never even met or glimpsed upon a portrait of your fiancée, nor bothered to learn his name, though it wasn't as if you wished to.

right after they announced his arrival today, you excused yourself to your quarters, taking advantage of everyone causing a fuss, and decided that this would be the best time to set your plans into motion.

being forced into a contractual marriage already left a bitter taste in your mouth. it wasn't as if you hoped to find true love — as you weren't naive to believe in such tales — but to at least be given a choice in whom you'd betrothed.

so, although these were words a royal must never even think about uttering, it's what pushes you over to the edge.

fuck it all, you mutter under your breath.

you toss your makeshift ladder out the window, tugging it one last time to inspect its resilience. slinging your satchel over your shoulder, you begin your getaway.

you were already brimming to the core with excitement and the idea of being on your own. you could eat anything your heart desired, wear whatever sort of clothes you wished, and not have to mind manners and absurd rules that constantly made your skull ache.

you're halfway down when you hear a soft grunt.

you pause, eyes widening as your head frantically searches for the origins of the sound. your sight lands on the tower next to yours, and on ... a gentleman doing the exact same thing.

the two of you lock eyes for a moment. you blink.

it appeared that he, too, was in the middle of his escape. his mouth opens ajar before the two of you simultaneously race down.

he reaches the ground far quicker than you do, and you mutter a low curse. your makeshift rope turns out to be a few feet too short, a slight miscalculation on your part.

"are you in need of assistance?"

you glance beneath you to see your co-escapee, clad in a coat of royal blue, with his arms outstretched.

"keep your voice down!" you worriedly exclaimed.

"you'll have to jump."

"that's a ludicrous idea!"

he snorts. "compared to scaling down the tower?"

how ... intolerable! especially coming from him! as if he hadn't scaled one down seconds ago. left with no other choice, you huff, "you must swear you'll catch me."

"i won't be able to if you stay up there any longer. my arms are starting to ache, but yes, you have my word."

you wonder just how much his word meant. you silently count up to three before letting go. you'd half expected that he wouldn't be there, but you landed in his arms with a small oof.

he gazes down at you, looking quite ... bewildered. you're unsure as to why.

perhaps he's thought of bringing you back into the castle. as a precautionary measure, you use your most authoritative voice. "if you bring me to the guards, i shall tell them you laid a hand on me."

instead of being frightened, the man only snickers, appearing entertained. "why, i did not expect that my compassion would be repaid in such a manner."

"i'm indebted indeed, but i graciously ask that you put me down now ... sir?"

"KAEYA," he introduces. you hum. the name rang eerily familiar, though you paid no heed to it. he lowers you slowly, placing a hand on the small of your back to aid your balance.

you rearrange your satchel, before turning on your heel and walking away directly to the alleyways servants use.

to your dismay, you hear his footsteps behind you. "why are you fleeing?"

he probably was no one of great importance, and he'd not risk announcing to others of your disappearance as you'd seen him escape as well, so you decide to accept his company.

"i'd like to make my own fate," you explain. "i'm tired of having my entire life decided for me."

"is that so?" he mused, not at all mocking, but genuinely interested.

you nod fervently. "i'm being shipped off to a kingdom i've never been to, arranged to marry a man i've never met, and expected to sire his offspring!"

kaeya glances at you with a mix of amusement and mirth, walking leisurely alongside you now. "and who is the unfortunate chap?"

you pointedly ignore the insult, raising your hands. "the crown prince of khaenri'ah! can you believe it?"

a strangled sound leaves his throat, almost sputtering out his next response, "i can't fathom what's so terrible."

"he could be some old geezer for all i know!" you rant, feeling even more riled up. you had no one to share your woes with, and it was honestly quite unburdening to finally express the worries that plagued your mind. "he could likewise be perverted or enjoy strange hobbies."

the look on kaeya's face is indescribable, as if you'd personally insulted the man himself. "i think it's unfair for you to place such an impression of him if you've never met him before."

"i don't need to." you wave away his opinion. "the fact that he agreed to this entire arrangement just goes to show that he is callous, and cold, and has no empathy for the other party involved."

kaeya's feet ground to a halt. "what if he had no other choice as well?"

you pause, stopping next to him. he tips his head up to the sky, and you couldn't deny that he was devastatingly handsome.

"my heart feels for him. it truly does ... " you shift your weight from foot to foot. "but i'm choosing myself for once."

he looks at you then. "and what of him?"

"then i pray he chooses himself, as i won't fault him for it," you say in all honesty. "who knows, perhaps he's thought about abandoning this entire agreement too."

he lets out a musically charming laugh, making your eyes widen in alarm. you swiftly press a hand over his mouth.

"how many times must i tell you that you need to keep your voice down?" you chastise in a hushed voice.

you feel his mouth curve into a smile under your palm. before you're able to step away, his hand grasps yours, interlacing it with his, before dragging you along.

you gape, preparing to speak — even though you hadn't an ounce of an idea of what you'd say — but not a sound emerges. his skin on yours felt uncomfortably warm despite the evening air.

"and you? why were you leaving as well?" you ask slowly, remembering that you'd never inquired where he was from, or why he was in the castle in the first place.

"i'm choosing myself," he answers in a cryptic tone. and you, kaeya decides. he's quite determined to see if he could change your opinion of him, despite the fact that you seemed completely unaware of who he was.

you're uncertain of what he means by that. oh well, you shrugged. perhaps the two of you will learn more of each other's stories on your journeys since you've picked up a companion.

kaeya couldn't resist glancing back at you. at your eager, wide-eyed expression at the prospect of freedom, he shakes his head fondly and grins.

this will be very interesting.

✦ byeol's notes: tenses are annoying >:| i rewatched little women, and the scene where laurie and jo were dancing outside the house, while the party went on inside, got me 😫 which greatly inspired kazuha's part!

and yes, i've read an ungodly amount of historical manhwas, which only makes me want to get isekai'd to teyvat or an au.

✦ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you and ily <3

carpe diem

when it came to your friend, you had little regard for anything, even yourself. what happened to abattouy should never have occurred, and you were determined to prove why.

cyno x gn!reader

rating: t

wc: 30k+

a/n: so cyno … amirght?  this fic would literally not be here without nessa. you have no idea what i put her through in the background. someone come save her. spoilers for tighnari story quest for sure. bunch of lore tidbits from 3.0.     

[also available to read on ao3]

         sumeru, nation rooted in the growth of knowledge,  nurtured its most promising seeds under the observance of the akademiya. in pursuit of their own goals and by the faith of greater lord rukkhadevata, scholars pledged their souls to the never ending race in pursuit of the next revelation of knowledge.

and frankly, it was a tiring venture.

Keep reading

kazuha + hurt/comfort + normal au + childhood friends to lovers, please <3

MAPLE LEAVES.

hello and goodbye; the autumn comes and passes, yet you still wait.

pairing: kazuha/gender neutral reader (platonic, romantic)

category: hurt/comfort + (implied bc apparently i can’t do it any other way) childhood friends to lovers, reader is kind of bland in this one i’m sorry LOL

note: i feel like this fic makes no sense 😍 el oh el; i think i changed his story kind of pls kazuha lovers forgive me

everything seemed to be more vibrant when you were children.

the sun hanging up high in the sky, the butterflies you caught, the way his hair glistened when the both of you got wet in the rain. the way his eyes were the same color as the maple leaves over his head.

the first long goodbye that you shared was the one when you had to travel with your parents on a business trip for a week or two. looking back at it, it wasn’t so long, yet for two kids that didn’t know the flow of time, it seemed like forever.

are you going to come back?

‘course i will, kazu. and i’m gonna bring you a lot of souvenirs!

promise?

promise!

the second long goodbye happened when he was leaving in a hurry, excitement in his voice. he barged into your family home and brought a weird sense of relief with him — a weird one, considering he was one with no mora to his name anymore, the eldest son of a just fallen clan. he seemed free and before he even spoke, you knew what he was going to say. and you were no one to keep him here.

i’m gonna travel the forests and mountains, dove. the nature speaks and it calls out to me; and i am not the one to decline it’s calling.

i know you’re not, kazuha. just remember, if you ever need a place to stay, i’ll be here. i’ll always be here.

it was also the first time he kissed you, successfully ruining the chances for you pursuing anyone else, whether he was aware of that or not. it was quick and harsh, and it was not enough.

the third long goodbye happened after tomo challenged the raiden shogun to a duel. after kaedehara kazuha caught his friend’s vision and fled, fled as fast as he could. after kaedehara kazuha became a wanted criminal in every corner of inazuma.

the funny thing with this goodbye was the fact that it never really happened. he used to come back, from his travels, with trinkets and stories, new poems and the wind. and you drank up every word that spilled from his lips like honey, treasured the sight of him as if it was the last time you’d see him and held him as if he was a mere imagination created by your brain; gently, carefully. fearfully.

you were fearful and kaedehara kazuha was anything but that. he was a free soul, the one of a wanderer and you were but a mere human waiting for him to come back. if kaedehara kazuha was the free winds and stories yet to be discovered, you were the calm breeze and the feeling of familiarness that one feels while stepping into their childhood home.

he left a letter; scribbled and left under your pillow and when you found it you held it without opening it for hours on end.

kaedehara kazuha was gone and you knew this time, you might not see him again.

do not wait for me. do not wait for me, please. you deserve someone else. you deserve better.

but you didn’t want someone else and you didn’t want better. you wanted him.

and so autumn came the way it always did; and it passed the same way it always did. and you waited. you waited while the seasons were changing and waited while the maple leaves grew and fell.

and he came back. the same way he always did; with a new poem and a story and for the first time, with tears in his eyes.

i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. you’ll never have to wait again.

i’d wait for you a hundred years if that’s what i’d have to do. you’re worth it all.

"Are you in love with me?" (Albedo's version)

Albedo pauses, but only for a mere moment. You couldn't tell if he had paused because of the question, or if he had found something wrong with the vial in his hand. 

"Curious," he states. 

"Curious?" You parrot, "What is?" A deep pit is now forming in your stomach. Perhaps this was not your smartest idea, attempting to probe into his mind to find out if he held similar feelings as your own. 

"Your question," he replies, "I'm pondering over what exactly provoked it." 

"Uh," you mumble, the air around your face suddenly becoming warmer, "Just wondering." 

He only replies with a hum, seemingly returning to his research as if you had never asked anything to begin with. The pit in your stomach from earlier proceeds to become worse, beginning to gnaw at you like a savage animal. 

"What would happen if I said yes to your question?" 

You don't automatically process his inquiry. "Huh?" 

Albedo turns around to face you, the vial is no longer in his possession. "What if I told you I was in love with you? What would you do then?" 

"I-uhm," you cannot find the words, they fail you. "That's a difficult question to answer, because I don't think you actually are." 

"Curious," he says again. "I don't fully understand the word 'love', as I have previously stated before. However…" 

However? 

"To say I'm not quite fond of you, would be incorrect." His index finger and thumb cradle his chin.

"You…" 

"Actually, would you be kind enough to help me with another experiment?" 

"Huh?" You say again, "What type of experiment?" Your tone is hesitant, giving away your nervousness. He shows you a small smile, but says nothing; it only adds to your confusion. 

It happens in the blink of an eye: the space between the two of you is now nonexistent. Albedo is close enough to you now, you can make observations you wouldn't normally be able to from afar. His eyes twitch, glancing from your own eyes to your lips. Observing. 

"Albedo?" You don't mean to squeak out his name, but he had never been this close before. So intimate.

His fingers hook your chin, lightly tugging your head upwards. Your eyes lock, and you stay in that pose for a few seconds. 

His lips touch your own, brush up against them with curiosity. You don't have time to put the puzzle pieces together; his lips are already claiming yours. 

He pulls away after what feels like a few good seconds. 

"Interesting."

--

|Tags:|

@sierrascribbles , @dulcesiabits , @lesbianrumi , @tater-tati , @paperbagpetrichor , @halcyon-writings , @yandere-romanticaa , @josuke8 , @phen0l , @yearning-moon , @universal-imagines , @yuezhong , @wangshengs , @fugufishie , @acxciia , @with-the-ink-of-a-ghost , @wisteria-blooms ,

can we get how Akira and SO would react if someone walked in on the two of them smooching/kissing? nothing too intense, just soft butterfly kisses when they think they're alone? thnx!

This has got to be one of my favourite asks! This sounded so cute and I actually started working on it a couple of weeks ago, I could finally finish it T T If you guys enjoy my work and would like to support my work further, consider supporting me through ko-fi. This is totally optional and does not affect the amount of requests I work on or anything regarding my pieces. Thank you for reading my work regardless and I hope you continue enjoying it!

【 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐲 】

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐓𝐖: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟏.𝟕

You sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and relief within the sound escaping your lips as you stretched your arms above your head. You had promised yourself to focus on your studies as this semester was slowly drawing to a close and you couldn’t afford bad grades. It wasn’t your fault when it was much more fun to play games or spend time with your friends; school wasn’t the easiest part of your life after all. Yet when your boyfriend had made his mission to help you out and make your studies less boring, you accepted his offer in a heartbeat. Not that it had been in an offer in the word itself, more so he had exclaimed it one afternoon like it was already sealed, knowing full well that you wouldn’t say no. You had even been excited about studying, eagerly taking a train earlier to Leblanc. Getting good grades and spending time with the person you were most comfortable with was a win-win situation, especially since Akira was pretty good at school. On top of it he was very strict about not studying too much and it made you wonder if that was the reason he was so good at school, never studying too much or not enough. Actually, now that you thought about it, he could be really disciplined if he wanted to.

“Three hours is definitely enough.”, Akira agreed as you yawned and your head lulled to the side to rest against his shoulder. He had wanted to pack your books and notebook for you, but upon seeing you nestle against him like that he froze for a second. He was exhausted as well, though he would never say that to you, brain most likely not bringing out anything smart to the table today, but the smile that rested on your face was worth it. If it meant you’d be clingy with him and he would get to see that smile on your face more he might be able to power through another three hours, even. “More than enough.”, you mumbled as you felt Akira’s cheek press against the top of your head to rest as well. For a moment the room filled with a comfortable silence as you breathed in the mixture of the coffee beans hanging thickly in the air and the cologne Akira was wearing. He felt like a comfortable cushion you could fall asleep on if he’d stayed like this just a little bit longer. “Come here.”, you heard him say as you were swiftly pulled into his lap, almost coming face to face with him if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a tad bit taller than you were. “Don’t look at me like that.”, Akira chuckled as your eyes filled with confusion. You weren’t doing anything in particular, not that you would know of it, but your big eyes staring at him still messed with him. “I’m not even looking at you, silly.”, you replied as you came to rest your head against his chest instead, feeling his chuckle vibrate through his chest underneath you. Your studies were long forgotten, the only sound that filled the room was the ticking of the clock above the counter as well as the brewing of freshly made, warm cups of coffee. “Do you want a coffee?”, your boyfriend asked as the minutes of comfortable silence passed by, stroking your hair in a steady rhythm. You shook your head, feeling sleepy and not wanting to ignite your body once more with energy when the day was already coming to a close anyway. “Do you want to stay over?”, Akira asked instead, the slight hesitation apparent in his voice. It wasn’t that you never had stayed over before, but it was still special whenever you would. He didn’t like the thought of you taking the train and walking home from your station if you were starting to get this sleepy already, so his heart would be at ease if you stayed by his side. To his fortune, you nodded against his chest. “Good.”, Akira smiled, “I still have some movies we can watch.”, he added, already getting excited knowing that you could stay like this upstairs for the whole night, if you’d let him.

“Comfortable?”, Akira inquired as he had settled the thick blanket over the both of you, arms wrapped around you as if to say that he wasn’t going to let you go anywhere for the rest of the night. You hummed in content as you kissed his cheek, now that you were propped up against two pillows and had better access to his face. His cheeks were soft against his lips and you were compelled to do it a second, even a third time. Akira didn’t budge as his eyes were glued to the movie he was actually interested in in contrast to you who only saw it as background noise. Nonetheless, he smiled, trying to keep his cool. You grumbled as you kissed him. He reciprocated it and locked eyes with you for a second when your lips parted, but then they were already back to the movie. You weren’t sure if he was trying to mess with you and was doing it on purpose or if the small grin was from the funny conversation that you noticed in the background within the movie, but you were sure that was far from it. He was enjoying your affection deep down and he had fun messing with you, just waiting for you to grow more desperate and get whiny. Lucky for him, you had no energy to fight against that and instead gave in, giving him what he wanted as you took his face in both of your hands and turned it around to make him face you. The look in his eyes confirmed your suspicions and you still grew weak, not able to be mad at him and scold him in a light-hearted manner. “Clingy?”, Akira wanted to confirm as his grin spread further, face coming closer to plant a quick kiss to your cheek. “Maybe.”, you muttered under your breath, not wanting to give him the satisfaction and fuel his ego any further as you tilted your head to the side and captured his lips instead. You sighed against him as you parted a few seconds afterwards. You felt your cheeks flush as his lips suddenly connected with your forehead before moving down to your cheek and trailing further to the crook of your neck. Now he was the clingy one forgetting about the movie and focusing on you instead. “Who is the clingy one?”, you taunted as your boyfriend’s demeanor had changed completely, lips pressed to your cheek once more as he swiftly took hold of the remote and turned the volume down. “Shush it.”, was Akira’s answer and you almost giggled at his words, relishing in the fact that you had been able to change his focus to you instead, when his lips sealed yours once more.

The two of you had been so preoccupied with each other, exchanging quick kisses to the softness of your cheeks and lips, that you hadn’t heard an intruder coming upstairs, unknowingly ready to destroy the wholesome moment. You shook violently as you heard somewhen clear his throat in the room, so far gone with your thoughts that the sound had almost scared you. Quickly, you hid in the crook of Akira’s neck and felt relieved when you felt his arms sneak around you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were staying over.”, Sojiro apologized sincerely, feeling a little bit awkward as his eyes were fixated onto the floor for a moment. Akira dismissed it, explaining that it had been a spontaneous idea of his and chatted with his guardian about the evening. You on the other hand wondered how he could look so calm as you glanced up to him. Neither were his cheeks flushed in embarrassment nor the tone in his voice wavering. He simply looked and acted as if nothing had happened or the fact that Sojiro had interrupted you wasn’t concerning at all. You on the other hand didn’t feel the comfortable warmth in your cheeks that you would get from the love and affection that you experienced from your lover, but the uncomfortable when you felt embarrassed or felt like you had done something wrong. You hadn’t even done anything big to begin with, you tried calming your mind since you just had kissed each other a little bit, but it was enough to make your cheeks glow red. You could only be thankful that Akira wasn’t letting go of you nor did Sojiro want to ask you something in particular. “Good night you two.”, you faintly heard Sojiro bid his goodbye over the pounding within your ears.You knew the coast was practically clear now yet you refused to come out of your hiding spot. First of all, it was comfortable and second of all, you weren’t too sure in which mood Akira was. He could be the sweet and loving boyfriend that would take care of you and softly rub your back to get rid of the uneasy feeling you harbored or he could be in his little shit mode - what you liked to call it - and tease you about it. After all, he was unpredictable. “Are you embarrassed?”, Akira asked, sincerity filling his voice that made you give in, clearing your doubts and raising your head to look up at him. Instead of answering his question, you countered it. “Why should I be embarrassed?”, he responded to your question, eyes filled with wonder and innocence that could resemble a little child that didn’t know any better, “It was just Sojiro anyway.” You had to admit to yourself that he was right, but you still couldn’t shake it off. You could only be like this with him when you could let yourself go completely - and that was only possible when you two could be alone.

Except for the movie in the background, silence fell upon you once more as you snuggled into him and tried to shake off the feeling and sleep was slowly welcoming you with open arms. You smiled in content, simply happy that you were fortunate enough to fall asleep in Akiras arms when he spoke up out of a sudden, the one thing you had thought about earlier happening anyway, “You don’t know but, you’re actually pretty cute when you get embarrassed.”

steadfast [miya osamu x reader]

pairing: miya osamu x fem reader + miya atsumu x reader x suna rintarou

genre: smut (18+)

warning(s): explicit sexual content, group sex (threesome), cuckolding, dirty talk, swearing, praise, daddy kink, deep throating, squirting, brief mentions of jealousy, and just a lil bit of that competitive spirit ya know?

word count: 4.3k

overview: after years of witnessing suna and atsumu shamelessly flirting with his girlfriend, he decides to give them one chance to change her mind knowing damn well she won’t.

By nature, Osamu is observant. Few things escape his attention, whether it’s trace amounts of ice cream disappearing from his tub in the freezer or the longing look you always give him moments before you press your lips against his in an affectionate kiss. Though he wants to pay full attention to the intense game of Super Smash Bros.a few of his former teammates are playing, he can’t help but let his eyes wander to your form as you shuffle into the kitchen to grab another beer. It’s not for you, but for his twin brother who places a lingering touch against the small of your back upon accepting it.

To the untrained eye, the action would appear as a gesture of appreciation and nothing more. But Osamu understood his brother well enough to know that he’d always had a habit–or intention, rather–of being handsy with you. His dark, stone-colored gaze quickly flicks back to the game on the television, however, when you saunter over to him to lean down and place a gentle kiss against his temple.

“Need anything, babe?” you ask, (e/c) eyes tracing over the handsome features of your boyfriend’s face.

He shakes his head and assures you, “Just ‘cause this is our place, don’t mean ya hafta play hostess, y’know.”

“I know,” is your cheerfully spoken response before you turn your attention to the chaos unfolding on-screen. “Damn, who knew Kita-san was good at video games?”

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EARLY BIRD | a.k.

pairing :: akaashi keiji x fem!reader 

synopsis :: after his washing machine calls it quits, akaashi has no choice but to spend an unusual amount of time at your family’s laundromat. somehow he gets caught up in your mess of a life and decides that it’s exactly where he wants to be.

word count :: 9.0k

genre :: strangers to friends to lovers, college!au, laundromat!au, one sided pining but mutual feelings, little bit of hurt/comfort, little bit of angst, ends in fluff

warnings :: swearing, alcohol use (they’re of age), mild partying, implications of a toxic relationship, like one sex joke lol

notes :: happy valentine’s day!! thank u cas ( @aitarose​ ) for the banner its sexc as hell and ur def getting xc for that <33 and if you think its unrealistic how much time akaashi spends doing laundry in this fic, trust me it isn’t. bitches do be living like this (im bitches). 

This morning, Akaashi Keiji’s washing machine broke. At its bare bones, it was an inconvenience—but to him it seemed to be a stressor that would take a few years off his life, at least. He’d forever blame Bokuto for leaving a pile of coins in his pocket, which caused the initial jam in the drain—and left the machine a rattling mess beyond serviceability. 

Imagine, him sitting in the kitchen of their communal home, nursing a coffee made from the press he bought himself for his last birthday, only to be met with the screams and shouts of a tortured metal cage. It made him cringe to think about how much money they’d all have to pitch in to replace it.

However, that was an issue he’d tackle at a later date—right now, Akaashi was more focused on getting his mountain of laundry clean so that he wouldn’t have to wear his sweats from high school to his next lecture. With a mesh bag strapped into his passenger seat, he used his phone to locate the closest laundromat—and lo and behold, he found you. 

The flickering fluorescents of the namesake sign above the door told him all he needed to know about the establishment in which your family owned, it was small and a little run down—but functional and efficient nonetheless. The skid of his shoes could be heard on the checker tile, as he sauntered in—a little disheveled and a whole lot of pissed off. 

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ʃ♡ƪ Loving series ʃ♡ƪ

Loving Inumaki

ʃ♡ƪ Falling in love with Inumaki was an experience on its on, it was different. A good type of different. Smiles were rare, saved only for the privacy of his dorm or for perilous missions to sooth your nerves. Instead of romantic mementos your pockets held travel-sized cure throat and pain killers which oddly enough warmed your heart.

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night dreamer

pairing: akaashi keiji x reader

quick drabble, a little angsty

You’re not really sleeping, but Akaashi thinks you are. 

Akaashi thinks a lot. When he whispers to you at night, you can’t help but listen. He talks about everything and anything; work, the cats he meets on the way to work, the nice old ladies who offer him gifts on the way home. He prays that his co-workers will make his life easier, just this once. He thinks about his old teammates a lot, he even misses being on a team sometimes, but he thinks he finds adulthood more straightforward and he likes that he has you. 

You make sure to lay still and keep your face relaxed, even when he says something unintentionally funny, you pinch yourself if you must to keep from laughing. 

Sometimes he comes so close that his breath fans across your face and you wonder if he knows you’re really awake. 

You never say anything in the morning and he never asks. 

When he whispers things which are too personal or painful, things he may not really want you to hear at all, you try to sink into darkness for his sake–into that moment where awareness and certainty isn’t tangible, so when you wake up the next day you cannot tell if his words were dream or reality. You can’t alway quite grasp it, however, and there are days where you find yourself walking around feeling riddled with his secrets. 

(It feels almost like a punishment, the recurring dream you have on nights where you feel guilty. 

He is alone, so alone and you cannot reach him. You try to hold him with ephemeral arms only for them to pass right through him. Your vanishing voice calls out for him, but he cannot hear. It’s in the moment where your fingers pulse as though they’re filled with fire, that if you reach out in that instant you’ll be able to touch him–that’s when you wake up. 

The next day, you always hold onto him tight, like he’ll disappear if you let go for even a moment.)

You’re very close to sleep tonight, if he had only waited a few minutes more you wouldn’t have heard. His murmurs are filled with affection and promise, you become conscious at the end of one of his musings. 

“…When we marry, I’ll take care of you. You’ll never have to worry about anything as long as I’m here.”

Against your will, your eyes pop open, and Akaashi’s deep blue orbs are right there, staring back at you. 

You’ve always found it funny how he exhibits shock; his facial expression doesn’t change at all, though sometimes when he’s particularly surprised his eyes might widen just a fraction, he doesn’t move a muscle as though he were a prey animal at the mercy of its predator. What gives him away is how he basically stops breathing, his chest constricts and the air blowing through his nose hastens its pace as he begins to lose air capacity. 

When he recovers, the sound of him inhaling is rather deep, “Did you hear?”

You nod, “I’m sorry.”

His tone is careful, hesitant, “Is it–does it sound like something you want?”

“Did you mean it?”

A look of offense sweeps past his face, he reaches out to brush away the tinges of sleep in your eyes, “Of course. Every word.”

Your hand cups his chin, thumb stroking the underside of it admiringly as though he were made of precious stone, and you lean in to kiss him. 

“I can’t wait.”

Let me come through with some Kazuha x reader

The first thing that you can think of is that he's pretty, he's always so pretty: perched on the crow's nest in the mid afternoon, after he's done with his tasks for the day, bandaged hand coming up to shield his eyes against the harshness of the sunlight, his own crimson eyes stubbornly stare at the horizon where the sun is slowly dissipating into the sea, sometimes you wonder what he's searching for. He's pretty in the early hours of the morning, when he greets you first, and only then everyone else aboard, with his messy ponytail swaying in the wind, rebellious locks of slivery hair framing his gentle face ever so softly as he smiles at you, and you wish you didn't focus so much on the way his eyes crinkle and shrink into crescents when he does so. You wish even more that the action alone wasn't enough to make you oh so painfully aware of the beating of your heart in your chest. He's pretty in the late evening, when the artificial light of the oil lamps is the only thing illuminating his features, so tenderly smoothing out the planes of his skin, it's such a harsh contrast with the teasing smile that he so easily offers you and the rest of the crew between wittily crafted lines of poetry and scalding, sarcastic remarks. His lips meet the edge of his cup, obscuring that smile from your view, and thank the Archons, but the cutting glint in his eyes stays, you dare say it takes on an even more piercing edge, you roll your own eyes at him and dismiss the feeling of your cheeks tingling and burning when you can still feel his unashamed gaze on you.

Kazuha's pretty, he's pretty, pretty, so pretty and graceful even when his blade is drawn and unforgiving wind follows his every move on the battlefield.

But now? Now Kazuha looks especially pretty under the silver tones of the moonlight, he looks especially pretty because he's sitting next to you by the bow of the Alcor, sailing away in the night, you swear you're not looking at him, but you can't help noticing how his pupils are still focusing on the horizon. What is he looking for? And maybe you already have your answer, but you'd rather discard it each time and ask yourself the question all over again.

"The wind is rather restless tonight." Kazuha ponders silently, yet his words hold firmness.

You resist the urge to turn around and look at him, to really look at him and let your eyes wander and roam, so you let yourself merely wonder what his profile might look in the moonlight as you meekly hum in agreement. He sighs at that.

There's not a wisp of wind tonight. The both of you know that.

The smell of summer is thick and coily in the air, so saturated that it bleeds in the night almost overwhelmingly so. Though you always enjoyed the feeling it brought, this time it's unusually stifling, but at least, it gives you a reason to ignore Kazuha's unspoken demand.

Kazuha is a person who values bluntness and honesty above everything else, you know, you've seen the way his eyebrows furrow in the most dignified of frowns whenever he's on duty to bargain with merchants for the good to stock before a long journey: said merchants take their sweet time roping him in courteous conversations in the vain hope to pluck some more money than it'd be fair. Oh, how much he hates that.

But Kazuha can be one big hypocrite himself, because the world will burn before he will give up his own ways to make you trip and stumble over his intricately woven musings himself. But you happen to be just as annoyingly stubborn as he is, in that subtle way that leaves no spoken argument but expectant silence.

"I can do this for the entire night Kazuha." you assert uncaringly, or that's you would like to say, you hate yourself for the tint of annoyance that manages to colour your voice. Kazuha sighs yet again, and this time you notice, with little sweet pride and the same amount of guilt, that it's out of exasperation.

"I did not lie, a storm is brewing in the horizon-" you don't even let him finish his sentence, it's too late- or too early, really, for you to deal with this shit "That's it, I'm going to bed-" he chuckles at that, but there's no humor in it, it doesn't make his chest rumble like when it bubbles out of genuineness "I thought you said you could deal with this for the entire night." he whispers teasingly, and though it doesn't have half of the strenght his usual mischievous voice holds, you'll take it. Archons, you'll take anything.

"With this? Yeah. Deal with you? That's out of question." he fakes a pained gasp at your rebuttal "You wound me, dove." you forcibly ignore the way your heart hums in response at his little nickname, like it knows, like it's answering a call of your own name. Instead, you swallow the words laying on the roof of your mouth, the sweetness and the reassurances, you swallow all of it down for the sour and bitter. But you forget that honey is thicker than acid, and when you swallow it down, it threatens to get stuck in your throat, seal your voice away with it too.

"Good." you finally manage, tune rough and trembling "Good. It might teach you to say what you mean." your words fade in the night as you speak them, a little too caustic. You don't mean them, you know, hell, he knows you don't mean them, because Kazuha always says what he means. But he humurs you, lets another chuckle escape those lips of his, you swear you're not looking at the way they move to accomodate the sound of his laughter, you swear, but you're not like Kazuha.

"And what do I mean exactly?" he questions you, the tone of his voice once inch away from amusement "You want to know why I'm troubled through the usage of very shitty storm metaphors." he hums "So you are troubled." Kazuha confirms in unspoken, yet so so loud, victory "Yes, now, will you leave me alone?" you see refusal written on his parted lips, ready to push you back, pick and pry for more, but Kazuha was never one to pry at all. He was never one to prod at a shattered mess of glass and pick and choose the pieces he wanted to his heart's content. So you watch as hesitation takes over the colour of his irises, and with the umpteenth sigh of the night, he nods his head in quiet acquiesce and turns his gaze back to the horizon.

It stings a little, his easy approval. Screw it, it's more than just a little. You think, of all of the times, why was it right now that Kazuha had to turn obedient to one's call but his own? But after all, how can you even complain when you're the one who's to blame, when you were the one to ask him to let go. Kazuha's always been awfully good at letting go after all.

Awful. That's what you should feel for your last thought, but you don't, the only feeling of guilt that creeps up your spine is the one that comes with the cynical realization that you don't feel guilty at all for what you thought.

Against your better judgement, you scoot even closer to him, your hand almost touching his bandaged one on the rough wooden surface, you feel the warmth that his body emanates, bask in it for a second too long. It's a silent apology, you think, one that you selfishly offer even though you never uttered those words out loud.

Another breathless sigh escapes Kazuha, and although you barely register his action, it does make you wonder why your companion keeps sighing like he's exhaling his damn soul.

Maybe he is. Maybe he wants to leave a piece of himself in something that's not promises of evermore, something that's not an 'if' or 'when' but a 'here' and 'now'.

It's lonely, you take note idly. It's an ugly feeling, one that you're accostumed to, but that doesn't make it any less ugly. Especially when you know you feel perfectly fine on your own, when loneliness and longing come knocking at the hollow of your bones only when you're in somebody's company. But this is the first time, it's the first time that your mouth fills with cotton and helplessness tugs at the chords of your soul when it's you and Kazuha.

You don't like it. You hate it.

You scoot even closer to him, teetering on touching, but not quite, you're not that presumptuous. And right there, you understand that your silent apology was never to Kazuha, but to yourself.

You gaze out at the horizon as well, and you find yourself wondering, wondering what would fill that hollow, what it would be like to give a name to what you feel when you're next to him, if that would be enough to make the constriction in your ribs feel good.

You wonder what it would be like to drop pretense, to forget that when you fall and scrape your knees it hurts, and remember that it burns so good too. Perhaps salvation would come with letting yourself be consumed, set ablaze in an all-encompassing flame that disembodies you and makes you one again just to breathe elation and destruction into you. Maybe it would still leave you breathless, like the cotton filling your lungs when Kazuha looks at you, maybe it would sate the craving.

"Dove?" Kazuha calls out softly, voice the slightest bit husky after not speaking for long. You don't answer immediately, noticing how now the nickname weights a little heavier on your shoulders, a little acrid in your heart. You scrunch up your nose in distaste, action that grants you a chuckle from Kazuha, the sound fading a little too soon in the undisturbed night.

Even then, it's still enough. Enough for you to feel it reverberating in your bones and leaving goosebumps on its wake, making your spine quiver as if it were his wandering fingers tracing routes across the skin of your back. You miss it.

So you wonder, perhaps it doesn't have to be like that, perhaps it doesn't have to burn until it bleeds. Perhaps the answer is gentle and unwavering like the ocean's horizon that Kazuha admires so much. Yes- you'd like him to look at you the same way he does with that. Waves that thrash whimsically, take away the shattered glass and bring it back mellowed out, you think, maybe then Kazuha would pick and pry in that heap of those tiny pieces, he would have the courage to pick and choose without leaving his fingers prickled and bleeding on jagged edges. In all tides there's a homecoming, unyielding stability admist precariousness that washes over you, soothing you in a balm of familiarity, it gently breaks you open and seeps into every crack and crevice.

You smile.

No, that wouldn't work. Kazuha wouldn't be afraid to cut his fingers on mere jagged edges, he would let the blood drip down his fingers and stain the glass until it stubbornly clinged at his nails, until he found what he was searching for.

The sky is painted in a watery blue hue, and you almost raise your arm to reach out and touch it, it looks like fresh paint. Oh- only then you realize, there's a faint ringing in your ears. You head is spinning like crazy, though the entire world seems unmoving. You hear a name being called, a voice firm and severe, but it's breaking open, desperation threatening to tear it apart from its very core. It's your name that they're calling.

Your eyes struggle to focus on the person in front of you, something in your mind is screaming in recognition, but your mind feels languorous and somnolent, and any semblance of lucidity seems to be slithering away from your grasp as you reach out.

A sharp pain in your chest forces a whimper out of you, and suddenly the figure in front of you appears in your eyes with appalling clarity.

"K- Kazuha?" he recoils at the sound of your voice, as if that alone was enough to burn him, his eyes look frantic, almost hysterical, he speaks of something, but you barely find any coherence in his words, brain too stuffy to make sense of what he says. Kazuha applies pressure on your chest, and suddenly you're lurching forward in a fit of painful coughs. The taste of blood fills your mouth.

Oh- oh, you remember. You were on the battlefield, fighting against the shogun's troops, guided by none other than Kujou Sara herself. And it was one of her own arrows that was now impaled in your chest. If your head stopped spinning for a second, maybe you'd laugh at how tragic this must look. You're no hero, no person guided by some fervent ideal of righteousness or following the patriotic ideal of freedom for the liberation of your nation. You're not particularly selfless either. You owe nothing to these people, nor to your conscience. No, perhaps your only fault is being quite a little too much of a nihilist for your own good.

Your own cruel mind points out in indisputable logic how you're just one of the many people laying bloody on the battlegrounds now, not more or less value than any of them. A selfish part of you however, holds onto Kazuha's sleeve tighter. Am I worth your tears?

The pain in your chest intensifies, the remains of electro energy the arrow was imbued with reverberating through your body. The tips of your fingers numb, limbs fall heavy, Kazuha's pleads trip down his lips, hasty like a prayer, but bitter like a curse.

Your heart is beating. It's beating so fast. And of course it always was, always is, but now you're acutely aware of it, of the thumping against your ribcage, and you want to feel it, feel it race even faster and feel your chest burn some more too. As the pain flushes in your abdomen, hums through your body, only one thought emerges through the haze of your mind. Can this be like scraped knees? Can this burn so good too?

How morbid. A broken laugh leaves your lips, Kazuha looks at you in madness, and you wonder, which one of you is the goner?

You reach your hand out, a feeble attempt to cup his cheek, Kazuha catches your trembling limb, brings it to his face with a desperation that is so unlike himself. And as the pain burns more and more, you hum in sudden understanding.

It feels just as exhilarating, and you know, deep in your mind you know, that it has nothing to do with the way Kazuha holds your hand like a lifeline.

Perhaps this is what it is.

Quelling in both venom and elixir. All demolition and all divination, it shoves you down to take the fall, but never lets the impact come. You stand afloat in anticipation: it leaves you stuttering and hesitating, can you hold onto it? How does something that barely exists fill the hollow in your bones and free your lungs from cotton?

It's not lonely anymore. You exhale softly, Kazuha holds his breath.

"So pretty." the you whisper in a hazy breath.

Kazuha doesn't know if you're talking about the sky or not.

.

.

This is more of a vent piece, I don't even know whether it's intelligible or not. I will probably regret posting this by tomorrow, but right now it's 2.30 in the morning and I have no filter.