You Already Know 😌✨ Oikawa X Reader - “Kisses Exchanged As They Move Around, Hitting The Edges

Burning for You

a/n | BASED ON GENSHIN 3.0 LEAKS!⚠️ …okay, so i have a confession. two things… one, i believe in love at first sight. and two, i am hopelessly in love with tighnari. <3 wrote this in a few hours high off of my new fav dendro main so i hope it’s okay! (art credits: u/murasakisumire on reddit)

warnings | character leaks, slight profanity, probably ooc tighnari but i’m having fun with it anyway :)

genre | fluff, smug tighnari likes to tease you

word count | 1.1k

pairing | tighnari x reader

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In the humid wilderness of Sumeru’s lush rainforests, there was no room for error as a forest ranger. It was a matter of life or death—eat or be eaten.

The vast majority of the rainforest was relatively untouched by civilization and teeming with vibrant creatures of all shapes, sizes, and abilities. As a ranger, you were expected to be an expert in animal and vegetation identification, and able to sense danger through disturbances in the surrounding ecosystem.

You had been reminded of this requirement on numerous occasions by your superior, yet somehow you defied all natural laws with how you constantly attracted trouble. Sometimes it’s a simple, easily avoidable mistake on your part, but other times it turned into a horde of enemies charging in your direction with no obvious escape in sight.

As a result, you were assigned under the direct supervision of the Lead Forest Ranger, Tighnari, for special training. But it wasn’t your fault you magically invited danger everywhere you went. At first, you were quite intimidated by the long-eared ranger. You knew he was the best of the best, so the stakes were high. If you messed this up, maybe you really were hopeless.

Expeditions were extremely silent and awkward with your new companion. After a while of suffering from solitude, you had tried to get to know him more, but it proved to be difficult.

“Hey, ‘Nari,” you would inquire softly as he was focused on referencing an encyclopedia from his pack.

An ear would twitch accompanied by a nearly indiscernible hum, eyes not breaking from his work once. “Yes, (Y/N)?”

“Um, do you ever take a break?” you sheepishly asked, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. He raised a brow, promptly closing his book, and touched his chin in thought. Worried you had offended him, you continued, “L-like do you do anything for fun?”

“This is fun, is it not?” Tighnari replied nonchalantly. “I love my work.”

It was true. All Tighnari would ever discuss with you was about Dawson Rainforest. Such was the extent of any line of questioning you could think of. You could rarely ever get a reaction out of him, not that you wanted to tease him—well, maybe you wouldn’t mind to see the quiet and clever Tighnari devolve into a stuttering, blushing mess at least once.

But that is beside the point. You felt ignored and lonely. Breaking the ice was useless. You were going to have to be a lot more forward if you wanted to get Tighnari’s attention.

Which ultimately led you to this moment months later, as you snap out of your thoughts staring at the burning embers rising from the campfire. You like to think your relationship had improved or you understood each other better since then. At the very least, your skills were improving and working with him in a team wasn’t as bad as it used to be.

You both had set up camp together less than an hour ago after completing your duties since you were too far from the main base to lodge for the night. Tighnari had just set his ranger journal aside, pale green eyes locked onto you.

A strange rush of heat spread across your cheeks in embarrassment. You prayed to the Archons it wasn’t noticeable. Had he said something and you completely missed it? Why is he looking at you like that?

You cleared your throat, unsure of what to say since he still scarcely gives you the time of day, “What?”

Perfect. You were such a great conversationalist, you reprimanded yourself silently.

“You were lost in thought,” he observed, lips pursing slightly in disappointment. “I… apologize if I have come across as rude in the past.”

“No!” you insisted, shaking your head frantically and laughing it off. “That’s not why at all. Don’t worry about it. Just feeling bored I guess?”

“You must always remain vigilant. As you can tell, none of the wildlife here seem bored in all their clamoring even in the darkness of night,” Tighnari notes out of habit, but he pauses for a second before shaking his head too and scooting next to you. “But we aren’t on a mission so I suppose I may entertain your antics this time.”

Did the flame of the fire suddenly grow hotter? Your cheeks flushed with another intense wave of heat when Tighnari grew near, surely it wasn’t your Pyro vision acting up. Then again, every time the lead ranger draws close, you swear you can feel the fiery pulse of your vision on your chest. Or was that your heart leaping?

His bright jade eyes flickered knowingly from your vision to meet your skeptical gaze, a playful, smug smile threatening to tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you enjoy this, ‘Nari? Making me—!” you accused in shock, words abruptly trailing off as you find yourself nearly admitting your embarrassment. “Argh. This is what you actually do for fun, isn’t it?”

“Me? I could never partake in such fruitless endeavors,” he responded with an innocent wave of his bushy raven tail, rotten mischief dripping from each word on his tongue.

“Oh, but the excitement is just radiating from you, go ahead. I’m ready to hear the great Tighnari speak to me finally,” you retorted sarcastically in a huff.

“I would be more inclined to say it’s written all over you, (Y/N),” his voice lowers as he leans in ever so slightly, tall ears towering over you in an almost intimidating manner. “I’m… not as oblivious as you may think.”

Fuck, the fennec fox never cared to talk to you and the minute he opens his mouth it was your downfall. Your breath hitched subconsciously, the only confirmation Tighnari needed, a sharp-toothed smirk adorning his smug expression. You hated it.

You had quickly learned long ago he had a penchant for teasing and trickery, and you always walked right into his traps. After all this time pushing you away and reeling you back in at will with his wit, he knew he had you wrapped around his finger. You were utterly touch-starved and Tighnari reveled in it, lightly grazing the back of his fingers against your hot cheek.

His pearlescent irises glimmered and marveled at you—a predator helplessly enamored with his prey.

“This isn’t fair, ‘Nari,” you whispered, lidded eyes watching with longing as he slowly inches further toward you. The instinct to pull away crosses your mind, just to deny him the victory, but how could you when the promise of his lips was so imminent?

He brushed his nose against yours gently in a loving nuzzle, whispering onto your lips, “Neither is this burning in my heart for you now, is it?”

Tighnari could hardly restrain himself any longer, drinking in your scent like this so intimately, inevitably succumbing to your sweet lips in a passionate display of desire. When he held your cheek or trailed his hand down to your waist, you felt that familiar burst of your Pyro vision glowing alongside his Dendro one—his touch consuming you with an aching need for more.

You almost considered caressing his long ears when he nibbled at your bottom lip, until he broke the kiss with a soft smile and couldn’t resist indulging in your addicting taste once more.

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist.

akira reacting to a (eventual) S/O that beats the phantom thieves in finding the treasure at palaces, like they always show up near the end to just give them the palace's treasure smugly or clear out all the shadows in the palace right before the PTs actually enter the palace? sorry if it's a bit confusing!

I’m pretty sure this isn’t the direction you expected me to take this but darkness my old friend paid me a visit :^)

“That was far too dangerous!”

“You should be thanking me!”

Shouts and defences fired back and forth as you and Akira argued in the safe room.  Stuck to the sides, the rest of the Phantom Thieves wore varying grimaces and frowns under their masks as they spectated the fight.

“We need to stick together in Palaces–how many times do I have to repeat myself?  This is a team!” the onyx-haired male practically snarled in frustration.

A scoff left you as you snubbed your leader before retaliating, “I can handle these small-fry on my own!  I already cleared us a path to the treasure so why can’t you just admit I’m doing a good job?”

“Am I supposed to be proud?  Just say "oh, nice job” while you throw yourself into danger?  There’s no way I’m anything but worried sick about you!“ Joker threw his hands up in exasperation.

"I can take care of myself!” you growled.

“Oh really?” the male responded as his pupils narrowed dangerously. “Then you can take care of yourself by yourself from now on.”

A collective gasp left the remaining members of the team as they processed Akira’s words.  Your own mouth opened in silent astonishment before it flapped in an attempt to make a comeback.

“Wait, what?” was all you could come up with.

Your regret, however, was far too late.  Akira had already turned his back to you and approached the others with a neutral air and discussed further plans for the Palace.  The other thieves were clearly uncomfortable, but stayed out of the personal dispute.  You tried to call out to the male, but all you received in return was the back of Akira’s black trench coat.

Miya Atsumu is a blanket hogger, not because he likes the added warmth of being sandwiched in his blanket; but because he always believed in monsters under the bed. Osamu calls him weird, but Atsumu insists that it’s better safe than sorry. As long as he’s safe under the covers, the monsters, demons, or ghost can’t reach him. 

So obviously, it’s Atsumu’s duty to protect you right? You weren’t ask picky as him about the blanket but you’d always find yourself waking up in his arms with the blankets wrapped around the both of you. Your legs securely tucked under the sheets and your waist held tightly with his arms. It was sweet. 

And you wouldn’t have suspected anything at all until you took a nap on the couch. The summer heat making you sweat so you let the blanket fall to the ground as you continue snoozing into the cushions. You tried hard to fall into slumber but the way the humidity stuck to you like glue kept you in a daydream state with your eyes closed. 

But soon, you heard the pitter patter of footsteps of your boyfriend. A sigh on his lips and the soft fabric of the blanket being slowly placed onto your body. For a few seconds you refused to move, despite the heat crawling on you, you feel him start to tuck the blanket against your frame. A slight hum on his lips and when he reaches your torso, you turn to look at him. An amused smile on you. 

“What are you doing?” 

Atsumu doesn’t feel embarrassed, he continues to tuck you in, mumbling softly, “Making sure the demons don’t get to you while you sleep.” 

It makes your heart melt, especially when you think about the amount of times Atsumu has removed or stolen Osamu’s blankets; but the fact that he was here, right at this moment, trying to make sure you wouldn’t be taken by the demons. You break free from the blanket burrito, arms capturing your man to bring him to you and you smother him with kisses. 

did you think i wouldn't notice?

prompt: coming to school while sick + "i like you, like, like you."

STARRING. cyno ♡ gn!reader | COLLEGE AU |

warnings: house-husband cyno (metaphorically), lovesick cyno, not proofread, written at 2am on a school night, written before cyno's release

cyno never took you one for a fool; at least, not that much of a fool.

you have always had a knack for proving him wrong, though, because archon, who do you think you are? who are you to make him—cyno, number one apathetic-scary-man among many—worry?

well, clearly, you have a very high impression of yourself.

it all started when you didn't show up to your usual meeting spot on campus—cyno noticed, of course he did, it's you, after all. he noticed the way you didn't respond to his texts, followed by your absence and lack of notice.

it's fine, he thought, strolling to class. one hand carries a bottle of water—for him—while the other carries an uncharacteristically flavorful drink that cyno would never buy.

but he did. he did it because it's your favorite; he did it because he knows you love this particular brand, because you just love.

cyno supposes he'll just save this for when he sees you next.

to no one's surprise, he doesn't. during lunch, once again, you're gone. now, cyno is one to embrace the solitude—dare he say, he likes it. alone, the boy is able to clear his mind and fully organize his thoughts.

he likes the silence, but not as much as he likes you.

still, no reply, cyno muses, checking his phone. he's about to give in and call you, but—as stated before—you always have a way of proving him wrong.

because archons, why did you think it was okay to pass by your "usual meeting spot?" to cyno, you are the sun and he, the earth. to cyno, his entire being, his life, revolves around your warmth and comfort—with you, he flourishes in the pits of the abyss, the endless void of nothingness.

to cyno, you are as conspicuous as red laid against green or green laid against red. you are complementary among a thousand, a color so vibrant, you light up that abyss of his, that vacuum of space.

(and when he sees you, he becomes a part of that vacuum, that void; he becomes color.)

there you are. cyno stands up immediately, following you into the crowds of lunch hour. oh, there you go again—tugging him along the strings of life for he is at your disposal, your call. cyno is yours, dammit. he is yours, all yours.

you do not have to be his, though. cyno doesn't want you to be "his," because you are nobody's. what a contradiction—what a fool he has become, because who in the right mind gives themselves up for nothing in return?

cyno does. certified "don't-mess-with-me" boy has also become a lovesick fool in the face of "you."

archons, how he's ashamed to admit that... not out loud, though, celestia, never out loud.

he admits his adoration in a subtler, calmer way. cyno portrays love through widened eyes at your staggering steps, quiet curses under his breath as he quickens his pace to catch up to you.

you're sick, he deduces simply by your gait.

oh, why are you sick? what stress must your body be under? why is it you that has to suffer?

cyno's rationality flies out the window as the sun swallows him whole. he basks in the warmth that flutters through his chest, calming his stomach. oh, why you? it should never be you, the one who suffers.

"and who are you hiding from?" cyno asks, catching up to you. his breath fans your earlobe and you nearly flinch, eyes widened as you turn towards him.

a regret on your half, maybe—because the way cyno stares at you, gaze piercing your soul... it may have been a better idea to stay home, yeah?

"oh, cyno!" you wince at the sound of your own voice, tone sounding a little... dead. "what brings you here?"

cyno merely blinks, and a cough you've been trying to suppress ends up making itself known as the boy's disappointed expression wounds you fatally.

without another word, cyno's palm comes up to your forehead. lips forming a thin line at the contact, his hand leaves your face and interlaces with your fingers. tugging you back to your dorm, your complaints merely fall on deaf ears.

"wait, i have a class!"

"skip it," cyno replies monotonously, not even batting an eye. you nearly choke, because is that really cyno? straight-a student, (sort of) teacher's pet—he prefers to be called an assistant—and infamous among his department as the one person you should never ask stupid questions to... and he told you to skip?!

"close your mouth," cyno says. "a fly will come in."

"you can't even see me," you retort.

then, cyno pauses. he stops walking, craning his head over his shoulder as he merely offers you a gentle—almost uncharacteristic—smile.

"i don't need to."

it's uncharacteristic, actually. if anyone were to see that tender expression on his face, they'd start running for the hills because no way cyno is capable of looking like that.

no way cyno's usually-steeled eyes can melt, no way cyno is capable of revealing a smile so lovely, so kind, in the face of a burden (you being sick.)

but ah, yes way. yes way, cyno can gaze at you like you've stolen the world he once was. yes way, cyno can follow you like you're the lover he's sworn to keep in his past life, and the life before that, and the life before that...

cyno pulls out the copy of your dorm key, unlocking it in your stead. during the trek back to your home, your steps gradually became more and more erratic, thus heightening his worry.

why would you try and learn like this? cyno thinks with a sigh, ushering you inside. his movements are adept, as if he's done this a thousand times—and you know what? maybe he has. maybe in those past lives of his, he has nursed you, he has loved you all the same.

"don't move," he commands, tucking you into bed. "i'll make you some porridge."

hm, you think groggily, mind hazed with sleep and sickness. cyno would make a good house-husband.

you'd never tell him that, though.

cyno merely grimaces once you ask him to feed you.

"seriously?" he asks, holding the bowl of porridge in one hand and a spoon in the other.

"yes, i'm sick... can't you see?" you cough heavily afterwards, emphasizing your point.

cyno, on the other hand, wishes he couldn't see.

"fine."

no more words are exchanged as he begins to feed you slowly. before offering you each bite of porridge, cyno makes sure to lightly blow on the food so it doesn't burn your tongue.

it's subtle, that love of his. it emanates in every touch and spoonful of porridge he gives you, but to the naked eye, cyno's affection is inconspicuous.

after you're done eating, the boy lightly brushes your head before finding a cool towel to rest atop your forehead.

"sleep," he says, barely above a whisper.

your eyes are already shut, and cyno waits patiently for your breaths to even out. once they do, he leaves to do the dishes—slightly scowling at the array of instant foods on your countertop.

he ought to cook you some real meals later.

long ago, cyno heard a tale that said to kiss someone in order to steal their sickness away. it's a stupid thing, that tale, but ah, for childhood dreams and tiny aspirations, it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot, yeah?

a queasy feeling takes over his stomach as the boy stares at you. your eyebrows are furrowed in your sleep, beads of sweat sliding down the side of your face. don't do that, cyno thinks. don't look like that.

he doesn't like it, your uncomfortable expression. stop it, will you? cyno hates how you make him feel in moments like these—how every little flutter of your eyelash and frown of your lips make his heart ache because oh, please, don't be sad.

quietly, the boy presses his index finger to your chapped lips. his eyes trace over your face, an action he'd never dare to even perceive usually—but ah, how he wishes he could take that expression of yours away.

why does it have to be you that is sick? why not him, why not him?

"i like you,"—do you know that?—"like, like you," he says to no one. he says it now, while you're asleep and unable to hear, because cyno's too afraid to do it when you can. what will you think, knowing that he loves you? what will you do, knowing that he'd rather tell the abyss than the sun?

and then, he gets up and leaves your dorm. locking the door behind him, cyno leans his back against the frame before grazing his index finger against his bottom lip.

cyno's taken. so, so taken.

FUCK MY HEART 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

say you’re mine

pairing — akaashi keiji x gn!reader ; per a request, reader has slight anxiety and underconfidence issues

warnings — drinking but you’re both of age and its like a shot lmao

word count — 2.0k~

request — From @babyybokutoakaashi​ ; ‘It is my first time asking for a fic request but can i ask for Akaashi fic. I dont have any specifics. Maybe his s/o can have a resemblance to me, like a not confident person and being anxious even on the little things. Its okay too if you dont’

an — i’m so happy i’m your first request! you’re also the first request i’ve taken so besties 👯‍♀️ hope you like this fic, i really wanted to write for akaashi anyways so let’s make a fic of it 🥳 hope you enjoy!!

inspo — sofia by clairo

akaashi keiji has been an enigma to you despite the plethora of years you’d known him. not in the way that you didn’t know what he liked — you know he prefers his coffees with creamer and three sugars, that if he was wearing his glasses it’s because his contacts probably dried out, and you know that if he wears his old fukurodani sweater that he’s working on editing another piece for udai, but you never knew how he truly felt about you.

Keep reading

SUMMERS WITH YOU — OIKAWA TOORU

— oikawa tooru.

⤷ genre: fluff, fluff, fluff

⤷ warnings: cursing, suggestive themes, a tiny, tiny bit nsfw - i can’t help it. not really proof read since its 4am.

⤷ word count: 1.7k

— a/n: it was about time i wrote a fic for him hehe. what if i said this was originally a hawks fic i wrote but never posted lol.

— navi. | m.list

oikawa loved summer.

summer mornings where the sun would bathe you in its radiance; capturing the soft glow of your bare back, and the cheeky glint in your eyes as you rolled on your side to face him. you’d giggle at the way your hair stuck out at odd angles, leaning into his touch as he brushed the strands away from your face. and with a pretty smile on your pink lips, you’d whisper the sweetest, “good morning, babe,” leaving oikawa with no choice but to pull you on top of him. he’d claim just five minutes of cuddling, ignoring the roll of your eyes as you snuggled into his warm chest. it was always an hour later that the two of you would leave the comfort of your shared bed.

then there were summer days spent at the beach, with you laid out on your stomach between his toned legs. oikawa could taste the sea salt, and a hit of your cherry lip gloss, on his tongue; a smirk tugging at his mouth as he remembered the kiss he’d stolen from you in the parking lot. electrifying tingles spreading across the palms of his big hands, as he continued to rub the cool lotion on your smooth skin - hands moving lower and lower-

Keep reading

FLOWERS & PEARLS—KEIJI AKAASHI

keiji akaashi x f!reader

collab: spring formal with hqhangout!

what: 1.3k of fluffy mutual pining in two different lives with a hint of hanahaki and angst.

Spring was around the corner, but the war hadn't ended unlike the cold days of winter.

The man with gunmetal green eyes held his lover close to his chest, giving them a shell, somehow like a telephone, with a pearl attached to its point.

His lover remembers the parting smile he gave before he went on to war with tough spirits, carrying the other of the pair of shells.

From afar, through the distances, he called and talked until his voice disappeared, swallowed by the pearl that had grown bigger overtime.

Three, four years later, his voice had disappeared and it was spring again. Believing that he will come back to his lover waiting for him, he visited the cherry blossom trees near his home everyday until the cherry blossoms grew in his body, with the sight of his beloved in another's arms, her voice restored.

Swallowing the pearl by himself to reclaim his voice, he cried and grieved about his lost love until he coughed up flowers, familiar white and pink petals covered in blood, and felt his heart stop.

Akaashi closed the book in his hands. He didn't know the reason why he even opened the book in the first place. The cover was a bit torn, the pages sure to become brittle soon and the golden letters that spelled "The Tale of Hanahaki" were barely visible.

But he felt drawn to it, as if the book was beckoning him to pick it up.

He sighed, wondering if it was real since science had not found an answer to Hanahaki's source yet. Even he knew that in every story, there is an inkling of truth.

He had watched people lose their voice, the first symptom, and recover shortly after they "confessed" to the people they liked and learn that they reciprocate those feelings. He watched some advance to the next stage of the disease with bloody petals in their hands.

Rationally, he couldn't believe it, but it was real, and the only cause they knew for the Hanahaki disease was unrequited love.

He had read books under the genre of romance, had seen movies, and even witnessed it in real life as he crossed paths with different people on the street insignificantly and held the significant ones close.

Is love real, or is it just a construct?

Finished, he made his way out of the library, on his way to his work to bump into you.

He recognized you as one of the workers in a cafe he frequently went to. Apologizing, the both of you walked towards the train station, you on your way to work while he's on his way to grab a cup before work. The cherry blossoms weren't growing yet, but the wind told him that spring was in a few weeks.

He didn't know that learning your name, and the small encounters whenever he goes to the cafe was a big deal until the reality hit him when he found him staring at you more, getting flustered, and feeling more than what friends feel. He wondered, in this early spring day, with the almost melted snow and budding blooms, do you feel this way too?

Was this what love truly is?

His feelings for you were no secret to his friends, nor was it to your coworkers. Maybe, you were just as dense as a brick to not notice them, or you were too focused trying to stop your own feelings from growing every time you meet his gunmetal eyes, when a smile creeps up his lips, and his protective stance whenever you two rode the train.

You didn't notice, until he came with you to the cafe, failing miserably in hiding his sickly pale complexion, and with trembling hands.

At first you couldn't convince yourself that his situation was real. After all, he seemed healthy the previous days. Yet, reflecting, you remember how he excused himself a lot whenever you're around, how he comes back with a smile that was trying to coax you to believe that he was okay, that his disease didn't exist.

And the same goes to him.

Years, months, days; he tried so hard not to fall in the same situation. Yet, here he was, trying to catch your attention with an order of a cup of coffee and playful, short banters. Here he was, falling down the rabbit hole of unrequited love like all those victims of the disease.

Why, of all the better timings, did it choose to come now?

"Let's go find a good spot and reserve it."

His voice was hushed trying to shield the fact that his voice was disappearing. You know it, with the way he shoots a short reassuring smile when he coughs, or when you just simply look at his direction.

Always so reassuring, ever reliable Keiji Akaashi.

Watching the cherry blossoms in full bloom was, yearly, your tradition. You used to stay only for a few minutes, visiting them alone and praying to famed gods for prosperity and happiness. Having him beside you, a picnic basket on hand, was new.

But you, oh you, could definitely get used to this.

With a nod, you followed him. The sun hasn't risen yet, but the moments before it were already fulfilling. Unpacking breakfast and eating it silently, laughing at the silliest arguments, and just being together in silence.

Akaashi smiled, bittersweetness flowing through his aura, as he re-reads the Tale of Hanahaki. Now, he feels how sad the tale was. Seeing their lover gone from their arms, growing flowers that he didn't desire to see anymore; the whole tale was just too unfortunate. He notices the similarities of the war veteran in the tale, and him, a simple human overworking himself with a cup of coffee on his table.

Would it end the same for him: alone, returning to nature through becoming one of the cherry blossoms you'll visit every year after he passed?

The sun started to rise, yet he found himself inching closer to you. His touch was tentative as he interlaced his fingers in yours, bringing them to his lips.

The slight touch of his lips on your knuckles made you feel warm, cozy, as he took you in his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. You watched the sunrise together, oddly familiar with his warmth, his smell, and overall presence. Butterflies swarmed in you, fluttering rapidly as you felt him press a kiss on your temple. Your heart raced as he whispered his next words, a sentence that you've waited on for so long, one that you would've said if he hadn't:

"I love you, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to answer, nor do I need it. I—" you shushed him with a tight squeeze on his hand. It was warm and sweaty, trembling from weakness and nerves. The hand you held was his, and he held yours.

"I love you too."

For a second, he couldn't process what you had said. After all, it wasn't what he was expecting. Have you known about it for a while? Was this your own way to console his stupidity in falling in love?

He didn't know, but he did know the genuine happiness, and the tears of relief that bubbled up your eyes.

And suddenly his chest wasn't so heavy.

There are a few things a human can do compared to their gods. Decide fates, create universes, and show how beautiful their creations are. It was a sad fact, but on that spring day, the only thing in his mind was the flutter of his heart almost like the delicate flower petals floating, taken by the wind and your mesmerized eyes as he holds you in his arms.

And he, oh he, could definitely get used to this.

footer: there's something so romantic abt the tradition of flower viewing for me :") i wish i can watch cherry blossoms soon too *dreamy sigh* reblogs are appreciated!

tags; @rendezvoi join the taglist if ur interested!

This broke my heart 🥺

Requested by Anon

Summary: If Nishinoya knew that this would be the last time he walked you home, maybe he would've walked slower

Type of fic: Angst

A/n: How to write something that isn't angst

Kiyoko this, volleyball that, cancelling plans because of volleyball practice, cancelling plans because his team has a bonding day.

Would it be too much to ask if you were part of his life?

When you agreed to his confession, agreed to be his, you thought he would at least make time for you.

It seems like nothings changed from when you were friends, except for fawning over Kiyoko a little less than before.

"Yuu? Did you want to go on a date later after school?" You had come all the way to his classroom to ask him, borderline beg him for some of his attention.

You supported his passion for volleyball, but a line has to be drawn somewhere, especially when he'll always apologize for the same reasons, sprinting to where you stood outside the restaurant, had been standing for hours, just to apologise and promise it would be the last time.

"Oh sorry y/n, I have practice tonight." He's grinning sheepishly, clearly aware that this isn't the first time he's cancelled on you.

Suddenly you feel everyone's eyes on you, some pitying, some filled with concealed laughter, this had been the third time this week.

"Oh." Your smile is strained as you try and look apologetic, forcing the negative feelings down so they don't show up.

But something must've shown, because Nishinoya flinches.

"You could watch practice and I'll walk you home?"

Its better than nothing you decide, and nod before heading back to your class.

There's a feeling you can't shake, and you help help but think you deserve someone better, someone who might actually give you the time of day instead of brushing you off and or giving a useless attempt at mending things back together.

The feeling only grows when you see him showing off for Kiyoko, instead of you. His partner, sitting right in the stands as he flirts with her, using sweet words he would never use with you.

His practice ends, you having spent it thinking that you deserve someone better than somebody who would forget you despite inviting you to practice.

"Yuu!" He left the gym before you, talking with Tanaka about something, having completely forgotten you.

He looks around for a second, before spotting you, face draining of colour as he realizes what he's done.

Tanaka sends you a a look of pity and tells Nishinoya he'll see him later.

Nishinoya walks up to you, hand rubbing his neck sheepishly.

"Did you want me to walk you home?"

Even though you nod 'no' a little upset with him, he still walks you home.

Its silent and the only sounds you hear is the sound of your shoes on pavement. The silence lasts all the way to your house the sound of shoes stopping as you halt right before you get to your driveway.

"Yuu, we need to talk." Your throat feels like it's filled with cotton.

He makes a sound of question and you take that as a sign to to continue.

"I just think, maybe we're better off as friends? Because whatever we're doing certainly dosent feel like dating."

He sighs and nods.

The air isn't tense or sad, it feels like normal, like nothings happened.

"I did care about you y'know?" He shrugs and his breath creates a white cloud in the winter air.

"I know, maybe it's just the wrong time."

He nods, and it feels more like a business transaction than anything until Nishinoya speaks again.

"If I had known this was going to be the last time I would've walked slower." His voice cracks and you can see his eyes welling with tears.

You reach out your hand to wipe the tears falling down his face and you sniff, trying to keep your own tears at bay.

Emotions that you had buried deep coming to surface.

"Hey, it'll be ok. We'll be ok Yuu." His name feels foreign in your mouth, were you allowed to call him Yuu as you broke his heart.

He nods and croaks out something about needing to leave, his head is bowed as he speed walks away, and you realize he only pushed you away because he was scared of getting too close.

Nishinoya tries to avoid you at school after that, too scared to look you in the eye and expose his broken heart.

It hurts when you realize it's all over

---

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“friends don’t kiss each other like this.”

or: the things they’d say to you in return.

character/s: xiao, scaramouche, kazuha, ayato, childe, diluc, thoma, albedo

“then maybe we shouldn’t just be friends.” XIAO mumbles dazedly between your kiss, fingers tracing your jawline as he absently admires the soft luster of his saliva on your lips. he watches as you shyly lean in for another passionate kiss, and he can’t help the sly curve that threatens to contort across his lips when he pulls you in to willingly oblige.

“who said i wanted to be your friend?” SCARAMOUCHE sneers — triumphant in pinning your body to the wall to keep you from running away, yet equally mirroring the blatant crimson shade pouring across your face. he sneaks a hungry glance at your lips but doesn’t remember meeting them, until your timid initiation of a plush sensation vividly comes back to both his memory and reality again.

“‘m sorry, love. i don’t think i can do it anymore.” KAZUHA smiles in defeat, yearning quietly as he stares transfixed by your lips, enchanted by the feeling of your mouth against his. he hopes it’s okay with you that he’s finally expressed his stubbornly pent-up feelings for you — he hopes deep down you’ll kiss him once again long before he forgets the exhilarating feeling of it. and when you bashfully move closer to capture his mouth in another soft kiss, he wonders if you had somehow heard him begging you to put your lips on his aloud.

“archons, please don’t remind me about that.” ALBEDO murmurs in a low and annoyed breath, pulling you back into his lips to steal several more heated kisses. he hadn’t planned on what to do if you would have pushed him away out of disdain, but the fact that he feels you carefully melt in his arms and your fingers run through the tousled mess of his blonde hair, makes him softly smile and wonder if you had been waiting for this singularly beautiful kiss as long as he has.

“so you’re saying that…if i called you mine, you would let me kiss you again.” AYATO hums aloud in contemplation, giving you a side-glance of confirmation. his heart soars when you hurriedly look away with a bashful expression, and he cups your cheeks for a second time, now with the faithful promise and intent of making you truly his, for perhaps eternity if you had allowed him, and even longer then.

“great. i always thought that we could do better.” CHILDE smirks nonchalantly, pressing a soft kiss against your jawline when he sees your cheeks instantaneously erupt in burning red. he’s been making discreet advances after all these long years, and eventually rendered you a complete and utter idiot when you had simply brushed it off as a courteous gesture from a friend. he knows kissing you will finally thrust his perseverant intention in your mind — and he figures by the flustered look on your face, you don’t seem to mind being on the receiving end for a handful more moments of his lips against yours.

“i wasn’t kissing you as a friend…” THOMA awkwardly clears his throat, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise to his ears. it had taken him weeks, or even months, to finally set his mind on the bold gesture of kissing you and asking you out. he had prayed to the gods that there was a possibility you wouldn’t reject him after everything you’ve made him feel, but that singular string of hope began to dissipate farther into the deep abyss. and he only manages to grab ahold of that long-drifting fantasy, when you’ve eventually brought him back to reality, by grabbing his shirt in hopes of meeting his lips for a second time, and maybe someday, a thousand more times.

“that’s fine, i wasn’t planning on staying as one for any longer.” DILUC whispers hotly against your lips, dizzy by the unfamiliar yet addicting sensation of the kiss. he knows he should probably distance himself from the close proximity, because if you keep clutching so tightly onto his coat for any longer, he might just take his chances and make the mistake of kissing you again. but you stay stubborn in your position despite looking hazy and flushed, and this time when he latches his mouth against yours, he doesn’t bother to care about any more regrets later on.

breathe.

⇝ kazuha x gn!reader

⇝ hurt/comfort.

kaedehara kazuha is no stranger to self-loathing. under such a blank exterior, there lies a heart which has been shattered beyond repair; a heart that you have and continue to heal with the love you provide.

kazuha understands. he does.

yet, in his eyes, you are the epitome of perfection. a vessel created in the eyes of a god themselves; what he sees when he looks at you is a star. his star. why is it you look at yourself in such a way? why is it you hate the person he loves, why must you hurt yourself in such a way?

pressing his lips against your forehead, he listens to your cries; with his arms around your waist, kazuha hides you away exactly the way he knows you'd like to be hidden. he holds you close, keeps you safe.

its only when your whimpers silence, when your body stills and your breathing evens out, that he pulls away. all of a sudden, he's too close—he's too close and he's seen too much already, yet you can't bring yourself to pull away.

you're .. tired. exhausted, even. how long had you spent pretending, lying to your loved ones with a smile on your face? this weight that'd been resting on your shoulders for so long is suddenly lifted, there's no more trying, no more lying. not right now.

right now, kazuha holds you close. lets you breathe easy for the first time and hears you out; guilt floods through your system at such a realization, that you'd taken advantage of his kindness, bothered him and ruined his evening with your tears.

despite the voice in the back of your head, the voice that's been mocking you for what feels like centuries, you hold him closer. in this moment, at this time, and only now, kazuha is all yours.

what breaks the silence is kazuha's cooing, a quiet ' shhh, ' that slips out of his mouth when your tears threaten to slip out once again. you feel his hands slide against your skin, comforting; he exhales, slow and steady, urging you to do the same.

when silence reigns over the two of you once again, you find yourself leaning further away from him; desperate. go back to sleep, is what your mind screams at the samurai, yet his grip only tightens.

" ... kazuha. "

" hmmmm ... "

" kazuha .. "

" i know, angel. "

" kazuha .. i'm— " suddenly there are tears rolling down your cheeks once again. " i'm sorry, i— " yet you're silenced, his lips brushing against your skin, calm, composed. kissing your tears away, he pushes your face into his chest.

" there is nothing you should feel sorry for, my love. breathe. "