Akira Reacting To A (eventual) S/O That Beats The Phantom Thieves In Finding The Treasure At Palaces,

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

Thoughts on touched starved Megumi (or Dabi if you prefer either way I am touched starved and in need of validation from very deeply conflicted characters)

i think megumi is touch-starved in a way he doesn't really realize cause what relevance does touch and love have to someone who spends their entire life fighting curses, anyway? i have a whole thing about it in my drafts somewhere but

i think for megumi it comes out to be that he falls in love with you, and one night, very suddenly - he gets this like.. itching need to touch you. it probably doesn't happen in a romantic way. but it happens in a suffocating way - in a "we're in your bedroom and the lights are off and i don't remember how my hands feel anymore."

he touches you like he is trying to remember how love feels without remorse. and the way his lashes settle when he touches you, his hands under your shirt. his brow furrows, trying to understand this endless and broad feeling.

there's no such thing as close enough. and he's drowning in the feeling of frustration, like nothing can settle the nerves in his stomach or the aching in his chest. the way his heart rams itself against his ribs like it's trying to find it's way to yours.

and i think megumi feels love with his skin, and he always has. so when he injures of bruises or hurts, it all comes back to him at once. the pulsing blood and nerves, all of it make him remember that this is the first time he's experienced a love so strong. love is a wound as much as it's anything else.

and it doesn't have to be romantic, if that's not what you want. but you're you and he loves you, whatever that really means. and no one ever taught him to love, but only how to let go. letting go was easy but loving feels so impossible

but he tries, anyways. which is why he let itadori teach him to cook and he still lets nobara practice hairstyles on him and why he calls gojo when he's getting home late.

and it's why he's holding you, bare torso against yours, face buried in the crook of your neck. he loves you like he is a ghost, as if your body is a house he's been haunting for that last hundred years - like he belongs there. it's needy and possessive. his hands are big, strong slender fingers that hold your waist, travel up your spine and draw you to his chest like a tide.

your legs are entangled and it's night and megumi fushiguro remembers suddenly that he's never had someone touch him like this before. and he doesn't ever want to stop or let go so he hugs you tight enough like how children crush daisies they find beautiful in the palms of their hands.

he does not know how to love gently even if he wants to so you don't ask him for that much. so it's clumsy and awkward as he burrows himself in you and stays there and feels all of your skin on his.

it feels incomplete. it feels clumsy, but that's the best he can do. he just hopes you'll be able to forgive him.

My dear friend @luxielle asked me (months ago) to write about the scene between fleeing Magenta and arriving at the cabin, and—at last—here it is!

even the oceans come back to the sand

GE Saeran X Reader | Words: 2002

In the beginning, you run.

It feels strange to move fast after sitting still for so many days; your leg muscles scream as the freshly-tilled dirt of the garden turns into hard, sun-warmed pavement. There is nothing here but ground and sky, and your breath comes hard and fast as you follow the empty road around a bend and over the crest of a hill.

As you climb, you think dizzily of your arrival (ten days ago; forever ago). It is strange to finally see the road that brought you here, when you were blindfolded and silent as the grave. You want to say something about it, but you don’t have the breath.

Even if you did, you aren’t sure what you would say.

You squint into the setting sun so you can see his face: he stares straight ahead, his brilliant eyes fixed on the horizon. You wonder how long it’s been since the last time he left this place. You wonder if he’s ever left at all.

The road curves sharply ahead, and you follow just a pace behind him. His cheeks are flushed, and you worry (for a moment) that he doesn’t have the stamina to keep this up—but he doesn’t waver.

His determination, you think, shines brighter than the sun in your eyes.

You clench your sweaty hands and try for one last burst of energy. He glances over his shoulder and then reaches for your hand.

“Saeran?” Your voice comes out like a breathless squeak; gently, he steers you off the road and into a clump of tall trees.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, slowing his pace to a brisk walk. “Trust me.”

Keep reading

this kiss

summary: all of the attempts for your first kiss and the time it finally does happen. pairing: atsumu x fem!reader genre: fluff!!! seriously rlly fluffy ok, established relationship, first kiss scenario, atsumu soft as hell for you word count: 2.7k words a/n: aHA IM AN ATSUMU SIMP NOW…yeah not proud of it, but i’ll accept it. anyway did this instead of the homework i had due at 12am (rip my grades)  i hope you enjoy some soft atsumu who adores you. anyways this is obvious but electric love while reading? MMPH *chefs kiss*

atsumu feels a smile grow on his face at the sight of your wide eyes darting around the carnival like an excited child. colors of blues, pinks and purples danced off your skin from the reflection of the tall ferris wheel’s lights and your grin shines brighter than any of them.

you’re beautiful.

Keep reading

Found My Home

Pairing: Inumaki Toge x reader 

WC: 1.2k

Warnings: Blood mention but nothing severe. Pure fluff, SFW. No gendered terms are used for reader.

A/N: For sweet @mid-night-blossoms​mid-night-blossoms​ 500 follower Flower collab. I am very excited, Inumaki is my soft boy besides Yuta but I hardly write dialogue and who’s a better fit?

Flower: White Carnation: Pure love, innocence 

There is beauty in tender care and loving silence, a symphony of emotions in words unspoken when skinship yearns to become more intimate. Lingering touches, shoulders knocked together playfully and fingers brushing against one another when walking on a street closer together than necessary. Laughter that aches so jovially and smiles that never fade. 

He’s fiercely protective of his friends, Toge tells himself that’s why he watches out for you often when in a crowded setting or when you’re talking to someone he’s never met before. You’re so trusting, welcoming, a warming presence he gravitates to often. He believes you’re too good for this world, that your heart and soul would truly be the end to curses by their warmth alone. You’re a healing aura he can’t help but gravitate to, how fiercely you care for others and the worry that etches into your features for their health. 

Toge can’t help the way his heart races the first time you see the toll his cursed speech takes on him, the raw pain of the ordeal. He is powerful and effective but you can’t help but lament, agonize over the severity of the abuse. He smiles and waves it away, it’s not very convincing considering the blood that stains his lips and trails down his chin. You can see how tired he is, skin slick with sweat from the exertion. You chastise him, tell him it’s not ‘no big deal’ in the flippant manner he dismisses it. 

Keep reading

Angst-to-fluff Inumaki x reader and Itadori x reader headcanons (separately) for when their s/o takes a hit for them during a mission and winds up unconscious for a few days as a result of the injury? Thank you so much!

WHEN THEIR S/O TAKES THE HIT FOR THEM

note. i hope u enjoy anon !! i had fun writing this <3

feat.  itadori, inumaki x gn!reader

warnings. angst (to fluff!), mentions of blood and death, a lil gory? 

☆ MASTERLIST

☆ — ITADORI

he’s constantly taking hits for you. whether it be a life-threatening swipe of a cursed spirit’s claws or a bonk on the head from fushiguro, itadori will take the fall. you hate it. you know he’s doing it out of the pure, all-consuming love he holds for you - but what about your love?

every time you see yuuji rush out to save you, you’re too slow to stop his inhumanely fast instincts, you are, however, fast enough to stop the cursed spirit currently lunging at him. he’s too distracted to notice - eyes only on you and anything that is actively targeting you to look out for himself. a flash of an image of a wounded yuuji is conjured up by your imagination, and you can feel the way your heart twists painfully - the feeling of dread makes you physically sick to your stomach.

it’s far too late to even consider how much of a bad idea this is before you’re leaping into action, the disgusting crunch of your bones and squelching sound of your blood is truthfully, a friendly reminder. a reminder that this isn’t yuuji. it’s the last coherent thought you have before the adrenaline can no longer stop the immense pain as you collapse to the sound of yuuji’s cries.

anyone other than shoko is absolutely forbidden to touch you. yuuji treats you like fine china, terrified that even a touch will break you. the immense guilt that settles in his gut for the few days you’re unconscious is a pain that only reminds him of his grandfather’s passing. shoko tells him you’re going to wake up soon, that you’ll be fine when you do but oh god what if you don’t? the thought of you closing your eyes and drifting away like his grandfather is far too much for him to bear.

and now, contrasting that with the joy he feels as you awake makes him seem like a different person. yuuji oh so desperately wants to be angry at you, he wants to scold you for being so reckless but how could he? you look far too ethereal even with your chapped lips and messy hair, and were your eyes always that pretty colour?

yuuji will hold you close. maybe soon enough he’ll scold you, but for now, yuuji needs to feel you in his arms. he presses a kiss to your forehead, that sensitive spot on your neck, and the tips of your fingers, etching the images of your reactions and the feeling of your skin into his mind.

☆ — INUMAKI

inumaki is unbelievably kind. throwing himself into danger for the sake of his friends and those he loves is nothing to him. it's like picking between tuna mayo onigiri for lunch and- well, anything else. and when it comes to you? his heart is in your palm. 

toge will act like the cuts on his torso and the broken bones in his body are nothing for the sake of protecting you, so that any guilt he knows you'll have can disappear - but it never does. how could it? seeing him broken and bruised just for you isn't exactly as sweet as it sounds. for once, all you want is to for toge to be selfish. but it never comes.

even as you two stand, bloody and bruised against a curse much too strong for either of you to handle, inumaki doesn't shake. he acts like your shield, continuing to spit out words filled with fury directly at the spirit - uncaring of the blood that pours out of his mouth like a waterfall. you cry and beg him to stop, but he only turns to smile at you with gentle eyes - telling you, "it's okay." 

it's not. not at all. not when the cursed spirit is jumping forward and getting ready to claw at toge - not when he's too distracted with you to notice. his eyes widen when you burst forward, tumbling towards him in desperation. he feels the blinding pain shoot up his back as he hits a concrete pillar - one you'd pushed him into. 

inumaki opens his eyes, heart stopping at the sight of your body. his eyes dart furiously to the blood that seeps from your head, and then to the mangled mess of limb that is your right leg, an inexplicable feeling of loss makes him tremble - but as he hears the cursed spirit laugh at its seeming victory, he refuses to back down, especially now. 

toge can't stop the blood that builds inside his throat and spills out of his mouth, not that he really cares much about it as he watches shoko use her reversed cursed technique on your leg, relief flooding over him as you're healed. there's not much she can do for your other injuries other than bandage them up, but if the scars ever bother you then know inumaki will be there to kiss your insecurities away. 

he prepares for when you'll finally wake by buying all of your favourite snacks, that plush you really wanted, and turning his room into the ultimate comfort cave. toge has utter faith you'll wake up, he really does - but he can't help but sob when you finally do, an overpowering pressure lifting from his shoulders. make sure to not leave his side for a few days (years) afterward, alright?

© SINUMAKI 2022 — do not repost, plagiarise or translate my writing. i will beat the shit out of u.

What it’s Like to Kiss Keiji Akaashi

Notes: If you would like to see my other kissing headcanons posts, follow {this link} to my masterlist page 💕

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🍓 ,, ੈ playing. fluffvember 2020 masterlist ❞.

synopsis: surrounded by love stories, you and your best friend akaashi keiji consider your very own. but … is that what friends do? 

pairing: akaashi keiji x gn!reader

word count: 1.6k

genres/warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining, profanity 

from your favorite vlogger, christy: i ??? hope u guys enjoy this, it isn’t as long as i wanted it to be but i loved writing this so my hope is that you love reading it? so heck yeah start reading >:)

“hey, look at this bookstore! let’s go in!” you squealed, running off without akaashi.

“wait, y/n!” he hurried to finish putting newly bought trinkets in his bag and dashed after you.

you two had been exploring the city, looking at outdoor markets and random stores. to say it was a mess was an understatement.

the bookstore was timid, easy to be passed by unnoticed when one walked quickly on the street. there was a small five-steep-step staircase leading downwards to an alley; its entrance finally laying plain then.

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summertime sadness (albedo’s version)

Think I’ll miss you forever, like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky.

an ode to heartbreak masterlist:(x)

word count: 5790

genre: smut, angst

pairings: albedo x fem! ballerina! reader

content warnings: very nsfw, minors please block the nsfw-dango tag! friends with benefits, alcohol drinking (all of legal age), taking nudes, fingering, blowjobs, unprotected sex (make sure to wrap it before you tap it!), slapping, overstimulation, degradation

want to be tagged when future oth works come out? click here!

additional notes: a belated happy new year to each and every one of you! I swear I started writing this during the shadows amidst snowstorms event because albedo got me feelin some typa way. but life got in the way so. better late than never. did you guys get albedo during his rerun? :)

“8 pm. Meet me at the studio.”

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Mother May I Sleep with Danger - Servant!Nagito Komaeda x Reader

ミ☆ not a request, I’m just really horny for servant asjdkfkflddj

Summary: future foundation reader is kidnapped by the WOH and figures if they’re going to die anyway……..

Contains: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem reader, no pronouns used

Word Count: 3589

The foundation is not going to be happy with you.

Not only did you balls up your mission into Towa City, but now your uniform is ripped all to hell, basically slashed to ribbons by the Monokuma who managed to overpower you. It was your new set too, all fresh and clean. This mess is going to get you seriously mocked by the men in operations when you get back.

That is if the foundation even lets you back onto the helicopter after this disaster of a mission.

You huff and turn to face the man lurking in the far corner of your cell. He’s been standing there for the past 20 minutes, just shaking and staring at you with wide grey eyes. You had been planning to just ignore him until he left, but he isnt leaving, “What do you want?”

He doesn’t answer, just wraps his arms around himself and starts giggling.

“Are you just going to stand there all day?” You snap, crossing your arms and glaring up at him from your seat on the floor, “If you’re going to kill me just get it over with, the anticipation has all but worn off and I'm just starting to get angry.”

“Ah...kill you?” He giggles again. His voice is a lot gentler than you had been expecting. What with the manic eyes and tangled hair. You were prepared for him to be downright menacing. He sucks in a breath and levels his gaze with you, “I wouldn't kill you. That would be waste.” The chain around his throat jangles as he gestures at you with his mitted hand, knees wobbling like they are barely strong enough to keep him upright, “Honestly, a bug like myself killing you would help no one. It would be utterly disappointing for both sides, and what is the point in that? No despair...no hope...ahhhhaaaa…” he brings the cuff of his jacket up to his mouth and starts gnawing on it, “it would be completely pointless...mm?”

“Why haven't the children killed you?” Your brows draw together, watching his balance shifting from foot to foot, “You must be at least eighteen, right?”

He wheezes, throwing one shoulder up in a haphazard shrug, “Older. I think. I honestly can’t remember.”

For some reason. A terrible little voice in the back of your head whispers - Hey, at least it’s legal! You balk at your own lack of decorum. The man is still currently chewing so furiously on his sleeve that drool has started rolling down his chin, his hair is so matted that if you dug your fingers into it you would probably never get them out again. You are smart enough to take one look at this wheezing, sweating, drooling mess of a man and think: gross.

Unfortunately, your cunt is dumb enough to disagree.

Maybe it’s because you’re going to die anyway. Maybe it’s because his black jeans cling very tightly to his thighs. Maybe you just have terrible taste in men. It doesn’t matter why, but for some godforsaken reason, you are attracted to him.

“So. Are they just keeping you around as a--” you examine him again, eyes locking on the chain dangling down by his knees. (why does looking at that make you want to rub your thighs together?) “--a...pet?”

He laughs again, finally letting the sleeve he was chewing on drop back down to his side, “A fitting position for someone like me, but no. I am their servant.” The man takes a step towards you, the chain jangles in ways that your insides apparently find arousing. You swallow, “I came to this town to seek refuge, but...well...you can see how that turned out.” he laughs again, shoulders quaking with the noise. You can help but notice the stiff way the hand obscured by his mitt is moving. Like he doesn't have any real control over it.

“Ah.” You say, eyes still focussed on the hand you cannot see, but can imagine perfectly well. That hand, along with his age, seem to only lead to one conclusion, “You’re one of the remnants of despair, aren’t you?”

He grins at you, manic, all sharp teeth and wild eyes, taking another step closer to you “Oh! I didn’t expect you to recognise common garbage like me…” he makes a noise that is dangerously close to being a moan, before exclaiming, “you’re right, I am!” His grin turns syrupy in a way that you find yourself enjoying much more than you should. His eyes hooded as he breathes, “does that disgust you? Does my very presence make you want to spit in my face?”

The way he speaks, his soft lilting tone. It almost sounds like he is crooning, purring. You shift on the floor, trying to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs. You have gone from wanting to fuck a regular crazy man, to wanting to fuck a crazy man literally out for capture by the company you work for.

“Listen.” You start, suddenly nervous, “The foundation is looking for you, all of you. But Togami in the other cell and I are working with-”

Your words catch in your throat when he comes barreling towards you and claps his bare hand over your mouth. His eyes are wild when they meet yours, pupils little more than pinpricks in dark swirling circles that dig deep inside of you, his voice drops to a terrifying whisper, “No. Not yet...I have important work I must do and you will not keep me from it.”

“We want to help.” You hiss into the meat of his palm. Horrified at how you feel the jagged grin that tugs at his mouth deep in your stomach. His mouth pulls so wide that his lips tear and bleed, drool pooling at the corners of his mouth and dripping over his lips when he starts laughing again, loud and manic, wheezing and decrepit.

“You truly are an embodiment of hope. You think you can...ah...haha…” He wheezes again, tangled white hair falling over his face and he tries to hold in a laugh, “You truly think you can help me? What a feat that would be! Endlessly impressive I’m sure” He leans in closer to you, eyes calm once again, hooded and piercing, “Thank you for your kindness, but I assure you. It will not be so simple.”

His face is so close to yours now, you can feel his breath on your face, see the bags under his eyes and the way his papery skin has wrinkled around the corners of his mouth. He looks half dead, but under that. You see soft skin, pretty long eyelashes and what are undoubtedly the most stunning eyes you have ever seen. You are going to die soon anyway, so you dont stop yourself from whispering, “You were very pretty once. Weren’t you?”

His lips curl into a smile, but his eyes look almost sad, “Most would disagree.”

“Hm. That’s a shame.” you whisper, trying to ignore the seductive tone you have adopted, “I think you’re still quite pretty now.”

He lets out a wheezing giggle, dropping down into a crouch in front of you and resting his hands on his knees, “Are you trying to win me over with words of kindness? With sharp lies wrapped in goose down?”

They aren't lies, but you can tell he won't believe you even if you try to convince him, “Just tell me what you want with me.”

“What do I want with you?” He breathes, reaching out a shaky hand and running his knuckles down your cheek. One side of his mouth quirks up in a smile at the feeling of your skin, “I don’t want anything...eheh...I just...I just want to watch. I want to see what you will do, I want to see you fight.”

“I’d be able to fight better if you let me out of the cell.”

“Aha. Cute.” He drags his tongue over his lower lip, “But wouldn't it be so much more satisfying to watch you overcome impossible odds? For your hope to overcome the utmost despair?” His head tilts to the side and he smiles, “I have faith in you. I’ll be cheering you on, just dont expect my help.”

The more he talks, the less you understand him. At this point you're barely even listening to his words and are just letting the soft tones of his voice wash over you, his eyes are blinding, it feels like he is staring straight through you. The door of the cell is still locked, Togami is still far enough away that he couldn't hear you if you screamed. Help won't be coming for a long time if it is even coming at all.

And you want to fuck a remnant of despair.

“What’s your name, pretty boy?” you whisper, reaching out a hand to push some of his tangled hair away from his face.

He stills, for a moment. The panic in his eyes is so powerful that even his ceaseless shivering stops. He blinks slowly, unsurely, and his lips pull up in a smile, “My pathetic name isn't even worthy of being heard by someone like you.” he breathes, leaning into your hand as it comes to rest on his cheek, “Servant will suffice.”

You make an upset noise, sitting up on your knees and leaning in closer to his face. His eyes aren’t grey, you realise, they’re green, “Are you sure? I was hoping for something a little more...intimate.”

“Intimate…” he whispers, almost like he is testing how the word tastes on his tongue. His face is so close to yours now, your hand reaches around and curls into the mess of hair on the back of his head. He starts shivering again, a wheezy laugh escaping his mouth almost breathlessly as he (with a surprising amount of tenderness) lowers you down to lay on the hard concrete below, “Is...this what you mean?”

Your heart is racing. He looms above you, knees planted firmly on either side of your hips. His hair tumbles down over his face, obscuring his beautiful green eyes in shadow and you feel your hips twitch upward at even the anticipation of his touch.

“Exactly what I mean.” you purr, slowly sliding your hand down the length of his chain. He quivers above you, a broken moan leaves his mouth when you give it a gentle tug. Your lips curl into a predatory smirk, and then you tug it again, hard.

His mouth collides with yours and a shocked gasp escapes his throat, his arms shake at your sides, desperate and almost panicked. It only takes a moment for him to soften, returning the kiss with a newfound passion, moaning deep and loud into your mouth and leaning into you. His kisses feel a little messy and unpracticed, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm. Choking on a groan when you bury a hand in his hair and pull tight on the strands.

He moves away from your mouth, trailing down the side of your throat and sucking hard on your skin. You can feel his breath hot and heavy in your ear as his tongue lathes over your flesh, teeth sinking in hard into the join between your throat and shoulder.

A moan breaks free from your mouth, and your hips buck upward high enough to meet Servant’s and you can feel his gasp against your skin. He grinds his hips down on yours in response, sucking in a breath at the friction.

“This…this really is my lucky day…” he whines, leaning back on his heels and undoing the few surviving buttons on your shirt. Your bra is conservative, skin toned and unflattering. It’s designed for missions out into the wastes of the world, not for whatever is happening right now.

Servant doesn’t seem to mind, running his tongue across his chapped lower lip, eyes blown wide as he drinks in your form. A shudder runs through him, and he swallows, “may I?”

You nod, “please…touch me…”

He giggles, gripping your breasts in both of his hands (though the hand hidden by the mitt is only really able to press down, but he is trying his best.) before burying his face between them, sighing happily against your skin. You choke on a moan when you feel his tongue run up your cleavage, hands squeezing almost desperately.

“Servant…” you whisper, “my bra, take it off…”

He leans up, a shy smile on his face, “Ah, I would like to! But uh, as I’m sure you know-“ he waves at you with his mitted hand, “-I can’t really use these fingers”

The thought of the dead hand attached at his forearm should deter you, but it doesn’t. You sit up just enough to unclasp your bra, chucking it off into the corner of the cell before grabbing Servant’s bare hand and pressing it to your breast. Servant chokes, brushing his thumb over your nipple.

Your breath hitches, and he is emboldened enough to take the other into his mouth. Your back instinctively arches upward, chasing the warmth of his mouth encasing your nipple, the finger and thumb on his bare hand pinching at twitching the other. His tongue is wet and sloppy, this is no precision to his licks and sucks. The servant is running on animalistic desperation alone.

Luckily, that doesn’t bother you much at all.

The cool metal of the chain presses down hard on your bare stomach, his mitt is scratchy where that hand is pressed firmly to your waist, not able to grab, but it still reads as possessive. You can feel him panting and moaning against your breast, his tangled white hair brushing against your skin in a way that makes you shiver. Your sex is aching, the way he furiously circles his tongue around your nipple feels almost feral and it makes you want more.

You hook your leg around the back of his knees, and use the leverage to flip the both of you over. Servant gasps when his back hits the ground. You grin, physical training at the Future Foundation is finally coming in handy.

Servant looks like a perfect ruin beneath you. His hair spread out on the hard concrete, eyes glassy with desire, cheeks bright red and mouth wet with saliva. You laugh, you can feel him quivering below you. The quivering grows worse when you tug his black jacket down off his shoulders and start working his shirt up and over his head. He is so thin, sickly, shaking, barely even there. All jutting bones and paper thin skin.

“Are they feeding you?” you find yourself asking quite seriously.

Servant giggles, “They’re children. I feed myself when I find the time.”

“You don't often find the time, do you?” he sucks in a breath when the tip of your finger runs up over his exposed ribs. You lean down and press a hot kiss to his collarbone, “Are you sure that you’ll have enough energy for this?”

“Ehehe...Don’t concern yourself with that-“ he leans up enough to lick all the way up the length of your throat, “I can be quite tenacious when required”

You don't doubt it. Leaning back down to kiss him firmly, licking into his open mouth as your hands trail down his torso and to the button on his jeans. He whines loudly when you undo the zipper and wrap your fist around the hardness in his boxers. His hips stutter up into your grip and you smile against his lips. He’s cute. It’s cute how desperate he is. You sit up, grinding your hips down against his, moaning aloud at the feeling of his cock pressing firmly against your clit through your panties.

Servant breaks out into a breathless giggle, panting and moaning as he pushes his hips up to meet yours, shivery and insatiable. The only light in the room is a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, just bright enough to catch on his teeth when his chapped lips curl back in a grin.

“Yes~” He whines when you grind down again, pretty eyes fluttering closed and white hair spreading even further across the concrete, “use me use me use me!”

You like that. You like that a lot, “You want to be used?” you breathe, sitting up just enough that you can wriggle out of your panties, hiking your tight pencil skirt up over your hips.

“Please...please…” he whimpers, hips stuttering up even though there is nothing to meet them. Drool trailing down his chin, “I want you to use me for your pleasure…” he gasps out a moan, like even the thought of it is too much for him, “...cum all over me...please...ruin me…”

“Okay…” you whisper, pulling his boxers and jeans down his thighs to expose his cock, he hisses a breath in through his teeth that turns into a moan when you grab him, “Can you be a good boy and stay still for me?”

He nods furiously. Thighs and stomach tensing as he forces himself not to move. It becomes even harder when you slowly slip yourself down on him, letting your head loll back in a moan at the feeling of him filling you. He cries out, hands jumping up to grab at your waist, trying so hard to keep his hips still when all he wants is to chase your warmth.

A smile crawls its way across your face when you lean forward, placing your arms on either side of his head. He stares up at you, enamoured with you, face flushed red and mouth hung open, “You feel so good, Servant.” you croon, slowly licking up the shell of his ear.

He mewls, thrusting up inside of you just a little. He just can't resist.

“I’m...I’m sorry, I'm so pathetic ehehe” he pants, “Can’t even follow such a simple order.”

“Well, hopefully you will do better with this next one.” You start, adjusting yourself so your bare breasts are now right in front of his face, “suck.”

He doesn't waste one second, licking up under one of your nipples and then pulling it into his mouth. Peering up at you through his pretty eyelashes as he sucks languidly on your tit, swirling his tongue around and moaning so deeply that you can feel the vibrations.

“Ahh…ah! You’re such a pretty boy, aren’t you?”

He nods

“Such a good boy.”

He nods again, moving his hands from your waists to your breasts, pressing them close enough together that he is able to suck on both nipples at once.

“Oh! Ohhhhhhhhh fuck- I…hng…” you rock your hips forward, keening loudly when the head of his cock meets your g-spot. Servant is still trying to stay still. Panting loudly as he furiously licks and sucks on both of your nipples. Wet and sloppy with little to no precision, so desperate to taste you, to devour you. The pleasure in your stomach is curling and twisting, the feeling of him so deep inside you, quivering as he resists the urge to move. It’s so much and not enough all at once.

“Servant…” you groan, hips twitching forward enough to grind your clit down on his pelvis, “you…you can move…”

His hips snap up immediately. He doesn’t waste even a second to drill himself deep inside of you, almost sobbing against the flesh of your breasts when the desperation he has been holding in finally gets to escape. He is animalistic, he is hungry. His hands move from your breasts to grip tightly to your hips, encouraging you to bounce up and down on his cock.

Luckily you don’t need much encouragement. Sitting up enough that your breasts leave his mouth with a lurid pop, throwing your head back and riding him like your life depends on it. Underneath you, you can hear the sound of his chain jangling with the force of his upward thrusts, along with his staccato breathing as he loses himself deeper and deeper within you.

Sweat drips down your forehead, down between your shoulder blades, it feels so good, it feels so wrong. The ever present itch of his mitt presses against your skin, a grim reminder of everything he is, everything he has done. It only turns you on more.

“I…I…AHAHAH! I’m…close.” He stammers, eyes wide when they fixate on the spot where you are joined, sharing himself disappearing inside of you again and again. His bare hand slides down your side and around to your clit, rubbing fast, messy circles that make your hips jump forward.

It’s too much, you can feel your insides growing tighter and tighter as his fingers bring you closer to the release you need so badly. Tossing your head back with a strangled moan as you finally cum, clenching hard around his cock and almost sobbing with how good it feels, how good he feels.

As Servant chases your release with his own, breaking into a breathless laughed as he pounds you with reckless abandon, cumming deep inside of you-

You can’t help but think that the foundation is really not going to be happy with you now.

But as Servant comes down from his high, his grip softens, his eyes grow sleepy, and he gives you a gentle smile that makes you heart race just a little-

And you realise that you don’t really care anymore.