Hii Can You Please Do Mona Comforting The Reader After A Panic Attack? Or Just Generally Comforting Them

can u write for kazuha where he uhhh kisses u IDK LOL

— kiss me, kiss you ;

kaedehara kazuha (with gn!reader)

kazuha thinks of kissing you often. more than any normal person would, anyway.

꒰꒰ warnings ... kissing? ꒱꒱

The first time Kazuha thinks of kissing you is when the crew of the Crux is up drinking late at night, talking about the type of person they'd kiss. Most of them are drunk and barely coherent, and he hides a smile with his sake cup.

A crewmate turns to him and asks him in a drunken slur who he'd like to kiss and, though he’s about to say that he sees no one in that way, his eyes drift over to you, where you are talking with Captain Beidou at the bow of the ship.

Your smile sends his heart in a gallop and he quickly downs his sake before telling them that he's going to bed, to the loud complaints of the crewmates. Kazuha passes by you on the way and you send him a good night, to which he only nods and rushes off without looking at you.

When he's alone in his small cabin, he buries his face in his hands, wondering why he had wanted to pull you to him and kiss you stupid when he had passed by you a little while ago.

The second time is when you're out in Liyue with him. You'd convinced Beidou to let you take him out for a while and told her that since it was night, no one would even take a second glance. The captain had agreed but had told you that if Kazuha got caught by anyone, she would hang you upside down from the gangplank.

Your eyes sparkle as you take in the lively Liyue as people bustle about and voices call out to sell their wares. He smiles at your apparent excitement and startles when you pull on his arm as your run through the crowd.

Your laughter sounds sweet to his ears and he has the urge to create a haiku dedicated to just your laugh. He wants to kiss you to see your laugh melt away as you focus on him and only him and —

Oh, he was doing it again. He was thinking about kissing you again, and Kazuha isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do with these feelings that bubble to the surface whenever he’s with you.

The third time is when he watches you sing when you’ve had a little too much to drink. You’re normally so steady and now you’re swaying from side to side, hiccuping as you warble the song.

When Kazuha thinks that you look like you’re about to throw yourself off the anchored ship, he takes a hold of you by the waist and drags you to your cabin. You smile drunkenly and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up to nearly eye level with him.

Your breath smells like alcohol, he notes, and your normal full-mouthed smile is replaced with a sleepy smile. He has never seen you like this before but he admits that it is, in a way, cute.

He lays you down on your bed but you don’t have any intention of letting go of him. If anything, your arms grow tighter around his neck, which forces his face closer to yours.

He makes eye contact with you and he swears his heart is ready to jump right out of his chest. For all his poetic words, he has no idea what he should say.

He wants to kiss you bad enough that he’s ready to throw his inhibitions away and just do it, damn the consequences but —

He sighs, and gently pries your arms away from him and tucks you into your bed. You’re already half asleep when he stands up and walks to your door. But Kazuha doesn’t miss the quietly mumbled ‘thank you’ as he leaves your room.

Not long after that day, a skirmish with another pirate ship breaks out unexpectedly. He’s busy fighting off a few guys on his own that he doesn’t notice you fighting on the higher part of the Crux.

Your opponent backs you to the edge of the platform and your foot slips, leading to you falling right on your hand. Kazuha catches your string of curses as he finishes off his opponents and his eyes widen when he sees you fallen.

He runs over to you and helps you sit up, asking you if you’re alright. You nod but wince when you try to move your hand. More opponents flood in and attempt to attack you but one glare from him sends them scurrying off with their tails between their legs.

The battle ends in the Crux’s victory but Kazuha is too busy treating your hand to even let out a smile. He ties the bandage gently and you smile at him brightly when he’s done.

But he doesn’t let go of your hand, and you’re surprised. You call his name and without a warning, he pulls you closer to him by your waist and presses his lips to yours.

A gasp leaves your mouth but he’s insistent and holds you in the kiss for a few more moments before pulling away, covering the lower half of his face with his arm.

You touch your lips and you feel yourself getting warmer and warmer. You bury your face into your hands, feeling embarrassed and yet happy.

Little do you know that the entire crew of the Crux had been a spectator to Kazuha’s little show and had sighed in relief that the blond had finally gathered the courage to kiss you.

notes this is very very very um questionable? but i wanted to write this for u <3 this is kinda like 3 times he thinks of kissing u + the 1 time he actually does ? that's what came to mind when i saw this ask so yeah SDJSD i hope u like it bae !!

let the past die, kill it if you have to

Fushiguro Megumi x Fem. Reader

desc: sparring with your boyfriend turns into an emotional unpacking of sorts.

a/n: okay but i promise it’s not ALL angst. i just can’t do that to myself, y’know? soft endings make me smile. also the title is a quote from kylo ren because i can’t think of another name. thank you very much.

warnings: angst, mentions death, blood, anxiety, trauma

wc: 3.5k

—

“Is… is there really any point to this,” you pant. 

You’re hunched over with your hands on your knees, struggling to suck in a breath. 

For such a pretty day, you hadn’t planned on spending it getting sweaty, much less sparring with someone. If you’d wanted to drip sweat and ruin your hair, you would have preferred to go for a jog or hit the gym… but you certainly hadn’t asked to sink your fists into your boyfriend’s hands today.

Fushiguro adjusts the collar to his white button-down shirt and sighs, “I already told you, yes.”

There’s hardly a drop of sweat on him. 

If anything, he looks refreshed after an hour of gentle sparring. The only sign of physical exertion is a slight cherry-pink tint shown on his cheeks - even then, it could just be the product of a little too much sun on his pale skin. In comparison to the dark-haired boy’s youthful stamina, you feel like a feeble, old lady; maybe you should invest in a cane so that you look like one too. 

“But why now? You’ve never asked to teach me before.”

You don’t usually whine around Megumi - he’s too practical to take your complaints very seriously anyway - but today, you just can’t seem to help it. It’s a gripe that’s been sitting at the tip of your tongue all morning. 

For someone so reserved, he really had a way of working you to the bone. Why does he feel the need to drag you out to a random field to punch and kick and fall down when you likely couldn’t even outmaneuver a child? It’s counterintuitive and a big waste of your time. 

But he doesn’t seem to think so.

“I don’t want you to be defenseless.”

You stand back up, your lungs having finally recovered. 

“I wouldn’t call this defense. You’re literally just teaching me how to slug a guy in the face,” you say flatly while looking down to examine your hands.

“Don’t try to punch someone in the face, y/n. You’ll-”

“-break my fingers, yeah, I know. You already told me that…” you glance back up and roll your eyes. “Don’t take everything I say so literally.” A smile plays at your lips.

Fushiguro sighs in response. He wears his usual frustrated frown (which he maintains is just his resting face) and trudges toward you.

You eye him and swipe a bunched-up fist across your forehead before dropping it back to your side.

In a few short strides, he’s in front of you, blue eyes hooded and lips drawn into a firm line. He gives you a once over, probably measuring how well you’re holding up so far. You just hope that he’ll call it a day… but it’s not looking like that’s going to happen anytime soon.

He blinks. Then, without warning, Fushiguro reaches down and wraps a hand gently around your lowered wrist. He uses his other hand to conduct your upper arm so that it’s parallel to the ground. You let his warm hands guide your movements slowly and meticulously while he trains his eyes on your positioning. If you weren’t already acquainted with his inscrutable stares, you might’ve been battling a blush right now, but you’ve grown used to your boyfriend’s habits.

Although, for someone who’d just been blocking your kicks and tripping you up, Fushiguro is being awfully careful with you. His fingers, scarred and rough, are delicate on your skin. 

Keep reading

‘you look pretty today :)’ you glanced up from the screen in your hands to lock gaze with the pretty fair haired boy sat opposite you on the bed. “thanks, i try.” you muttered light heartedly, gentle warmth ghosting up to the tips of your ears.

inumaki began to type once more as three dots indicating a reply appeared on your own screen. ‘that’s okay, just wanted to tell you’

you smiled at the text in grey under the first once he sent. “you don’t have to tell me that every time you see me you know.” you spoke gently, eyes soft looking upon your boyfriend who had his own phone held in his hand. ‘yeah i know, i just wanna make sure you know though,, texts aren’t the best way to communicate :( ’

before you could reply, the soft tapping sounds of typing were heard once again as inumaki typed out another text. ‘i hope you believe everything i type in these because i do mean it.’ your heart fluttered slightly at this message. while his speaking issue wasn’t ideal, inumaki always made sure to do his best to tell you how much he loved and cherished you, even if he verbally couldn’t affirm you.

“you know,” you spoke softly, slowing crawling over to his side on your bed. making home in his arms, you inhaled the familiar scent of fresh laundry as you rested your head on his shoulder. “you could always show me that you mean these things.”

you had only intended for you comment to be perceived as light hearted with no pressure attached to it, but your boyfriend’s heart jumped ever so slightly at the sudden close contact between the two of you and your suggestive comment certainly didn’t help.

you had a point though, speech was one restriction, but as the common preaching had always been taught “actions speak louder than words” inumaki gently took your hand into his own before looking tenderly into your pretty eyes.

placing your hand gently above his heart, the warm palm of your hand blanketed over the soft, but excited heart rate that indicated the love he held for you. with the sudden pick up in pace you knew this was his way of saying ‘this is how much i love you’ without having to verbally voice it. delicate butterflies fluttered inside of you as inumaki held eye contact only further instigating his silent but meaningful proclamation of love for you.

speech was definitely off the table when it came to telling you how he felt, but inumaki would never let a day go by without telling you how he felt in his own love language tailored specifically for you to understand. your boyfriend loved you and it was the ringing of his heart that told you everyday.

helloo!! congrats on 2k! could i request meteor + cyno for the event? possibly some forbidden love stuff… but your choice! im in the mood for angst 😈 thanks!

ahaha u wanted angst u got angst <3 this is another that got away with me, though not as much, it is 1k words hehe. thank you so very much for participating!!! btw for the sake of clarity, this is a royalty au where i have equated the matras to the royal guard <3

[event masterlist] [take part in the event!]

Through the V.E.N, you and your beloved have caught sight of something! A meteor, in a tragic existence never destined to turn out well. In the back of your mind, a glimpse of your future with Cyno springs forth...

“My dear matra,” you complain, “won’t you humour me just this once?”

“You know that is against my status,” Cyno sighs. “I cannot.”

As the King’s only child, you were destined to be married to some other notable royal. They had been picked out since your birth, primed and ready all their lives to provide a tactical union between your families. There was nothing you could do to stop the wheel of a preordained fate from turning. 

And yet that hadn’t stopped you from harbouring an enamouration for the head of the royal guard, the General Mahamatra Cyno, who had been personally tasked with protecting you by the King himself. His eyes are kind, when turned towards you at least, and his stern demeanour is offset by how softly he speaks to you when you are alone. If you were more of a fool, you’d assume that he might just feel the same way about you. 

“How unfair.” You fold your arms against your chest, pouting out your lower lip as far as it can go. “I just wanted to hold it, you know.”

“This headdress is a symbol of my status as your guard,” Cyno objects, before pausing as the rest of your words register. “You wish to simply hold it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’ll look very pretty without it.”

He clears his throat, a telltale sign that you’ve learned over the years means you’ve successfully flustered him. “That’s rather improper of you, highness.”

And yet his polearm is finally released from his grasp, balanced up against the wall, as he reaches to remove the ornate black-and-purple headdress. Loose strands of long white hair stick up from the residual static, a little unkempt and messy, and on instinct you reach out to smooth them down for him. 

He gently grasps your wrist to stop you, keeping it raised in the air between you. There is a silent showdown for a beat as you stare at him defiantly. 

“You’re so worried about ‘impropriety’ and what people will think,” you begin, “but I fear that you have not been inconspicuous at all in the improper way I catch you looking at me when you think I am busy.”

Cyno’s eyes widen. Your arm is released. 

Taking a step closer, removing what little distance there had been left between you, you continue. “Besides, if there are no souls around to bear witness, are we really doing anything improper at all?”

There is a moment, a mere second of consideration as you lean in closer. Cyno looks as though he will turn tail and run, exit your chambers and resume his station by the door like a loyal guard should. It is the wise thing to do, you think, but certainly not what either of you seem to want. 

You are close enough now to feel his uneven breath ghost across your cheeks, to see the falter in his composure as he finally, finally, gives in. 

Cyno kisses you furtively, one hand reaching to cradle the back of your head and the other holding tight to your waist. A desperate sound escapes him as you kiss back, your arms encircling his torso and clinging to his shoulders. He tastes blissful, lips plump like the ripe Zaytun peaches kept in the banquet hall, sweet just as though you were taking a bite. It is an indulgence you could only dream of, the sensation of finally consuming that tempting fruit that has hung so tauntingly low before you for so very long. 

But there are legends about those who steal from trees they shouldn’t touch. 

Your name is cried out in disgust from the hallway, the booming voice of the King echoing into your chambers and resonating through your entire body. He approaches Cyno with contempt and grabs onto his shoulder, yanking him harshly away from you. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing to my child, general?”

“Father,” you plead. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

“As for you,” the King’s gaze pierces you like a dagger. “You are not to leave this room until the day you are to be wed.”

“But-” you begin, only to be cut off abruptly. 

“I will not hear it!”

You try to share a glance with the man you have grown to love, but Cyno cannot bring himself to look at you as he is kept at arm’s length by your father like the very criminals he has spent his life protecting you from. In that moment, as he is escorted out from your chambers, you swear you can hear the cracking of your heart. Your cheeks are damp as you reach up to touch them, to wipe your eyes clear before you attempt to chase after the now-receding figures.

But your father is faster than you, and closer to the exit, and he slams the wooden door shut behind him before bolting it tight. Through the thick material, he calls back to you one last time. 

”We shall assign you a new guard… and this one will be left for the vultures.”

You pick up the headdress that has been abandoned by the door, running your thumbs along the careful stitching and embroidery across it. Your father would likely come for it before long, as well as the polearm still resting ownerless against the wall, to remove any trace of Cyno from your life for good. 

But for now, for just the briefest of moments, you still have something left of him to cling to. 

taglist: @x-zho @irethepotato @pochipop @applejuiceistired @falling4fandoms (send an ask/dm or check my pinned to join/leave my taglists!)

“tuna with mayo.” inumaki says, his voice excited to be standing in front of you, and he knows you can’t see it, not behind his mask, but whenever he sees you, he can never hold himself back from smiling.

you blink, quite unsure of what to do with the words just said to you, and you try to keep confusion from arising in your face.

it’s been a really long day, and the last thing you need is this oddly white haired boy (with a very intimidating green haired girl by his side) to actually order fish with mayonnaise.

fish with mayonnaise in a café.

“sorry,” you smile, polite, “we don’t have that here.”

and you watch as the boy in front of you, face covered with a black mask and all, nod his head, the tips of his ears turning a dark hue of pink.

“that’s not what he meant.” the girl beside him tells you, the corners of her lips turning slightly upwards, and you feel much comfortable with her presence.

the two of them — they make an odd pair.

you tilt your head, “sorry?”

and inumaki shakes his head, his eyes intently following your every move, and he says, his voice shy, “shake.”

(now, you’re even more confused.)

“ignore him.” maki tells you, and her attention is all the way back to the menu above your head.

inumaki keeps his glance on you still, the tips of his ears along with the rest of his face stained with an unwashable color of pink, and his eyes perk up when he sees you finally look back at him again.

his voice is excited, “salmon!”

and you look at him, blinking, “this is a café.”

and his shoulders fall again, the smile reaching his eyes dimming, and you honestly feel like those weren’t the words you were supposed to reply with.

you feel like you’re being pranked right now, because what in the hell is going on?

maki nods finally, shrugging her shoulders, and she looks back at you, “he’ll just have what i’m having.”

and inumaki nods, silently by her side, “shake.”

“right,” you jot down their orders, still a bit loopy from the weird conversation, “i’m sorry, it’s just been a really busy day.”

and maki tells you, “no worries.” her voice stoic, but gentle enough to make you feel better.

her friend, inumaki (as she’s told you), has left her side now to get them a table, and a part of you’s relieved that his intense gaze is gone, but another still feels the guilt of having shot him down.

(not that you’d know, he said “shake” and you’re supposed to say what? “blender!”, you’re going to have a headache.)

“he comes here every chance he gets, you know.” maki’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“does he?” you smile, keeping polite conversation as you punch in her order, “this is my first week on register, so i don’t really notice a lot of the customers.”

and she nods, handing you a piece of tissue paper with the money to pay for the drinks.

“he’s weird.” she tells you, her shoulders rising.

you laugh, “i think he seems nice.”

“he is.” she nods, “but he’s still weird.”

you hand her her receipt, and she makes her way back to the table where inumaki signals for her return.

you catch his glance by a second, his eyes crinkling with a smile, the edges of his ears still a hot pink, and you think it’s fine when you send him back a small wave.

maki turns to you, “he thinks you’re cute.”

this is so pretty 🥺🥺🥺 my heart is so immensely soft

。EVERYTHING OF OUR FATE IN DUE TIME ...

━━ PAIRING: kaedehara k./reader

━━ GENRE: fluff

━━ SUMMARY: morning routines could lead to exciting discoveries — just as how everything in your life seem to fall at all the right places at all the right times.

━━ CONTAINS: modern!au

━━ VALENTINE'S 2022 EVENT SPECIAL

the first thing he heard when he opened his eyes was your soft, little snores that automatically drew a drowsy smile on his face. you were still wearing his shirt, a faded red one that had his high school's mascot printed in front. the fabric didn't swallow you whole like the shirts in your rom-com movies do but that was fine. his heart held a lot of affection for the sentimental things in his life and he was more than willing to share every single one of the things that made him kaedehara kazuha with the person who stole every bit of his poetry. it didn't take long for him to pull you close, absentmindedly snuggling into the crook of your neck as he relished in the gentle thrumming of his heart. with legs tangled under the quilted blanket you gave him last christmas, kazuha decided that he could afford to stay in bed for five minutes longer if it meant having you for himself for just as long.

the five minutes that passed felt like an eternity that ended too soon— yes, that was the perfect way to describe it. an eternity of finer details spun and observed meticulously by awestruck ruby eyes. kazuha was eloquent but not necessarily verbose. besides, he smiles to himself as he ran a hand through his free-flowing locks. what else was there to say when you were doing all the explanation by just looking wonderfully majestic first thing in the morning? true art, the ones that could only be crafted by the genius of nature itself, have no need for unnecessary adjectives uttered by someone clumsy and blind at the sight of love incarnate.

"you woke up early," he felt you shuffle before slumping over his back, movements exposing your left leg to the cold morning breeze. you honestly didn't care. it wasn't that cold but kazuha wordlessly adjusted the blanket for you anyway, "worrywart."

kazuha shook his head amusedly, "just looking out for you."

you eyed his pleased expression before fiddling with the hair tie on your wrist — his hair tie. a little something that you wouldn't be having on your person if it weren't for this man who enjoyed your touch unabashedly. adjusting your position, you carefully detangled the knots in his hair: a routine you have come to know every time you stayed the night over his place.

"what should we have for breakfast?"

you hummed, "you're cooking?"

"it's valentine's day," kazuha smiles and though you weren't facing him, you knew his silken voice by heart that you could carve the image in your mind with as much ease as you have when you breathe, "a special day for a special someone entails a special treatment, yes?"

"don't try too hard to be perfect. any more and you'll make me order a ring."

"feeling bold, aren't we?"

you only laugh in reply, patting his head twice to tell him that you're done styling his hair. deciding that your mischief will temporarily end there, you don't comment as your keen eyes caught kazuha slightly tilting his head to lean into your touch. a cat. he reminds you too much of a cat who enjoys lounging around in the corners where the sun's glow hits just right.

"the rain has stopped... i guess we're not having breakfast together after all," you said after a few moments worth of silence. the reason for your stay was the torrential downpour that happened late last night. as brave as you are to attempt to fluster your composed lover, you weren't quite brave enough to walk home in poor visibility. too busy recounting what has transpired, you missed the frown that uncharacteristically painted kazuha's face darker.

"...so it seems."

you blink, turning your gaze to kazuha to ask him a silent question but he only kissed the inside of your wrist with a coy smile.

indifference has never been your forte and it didn't help that kaedehara kazuha, as a result of the countless hours he has devoted in honor of preserving your image in his memory, knew every single one of your quirks. as you cleared your throat, kazuha could only smile in content as you didn't attempt to pull your hand away from his hold. a cat. sometimes, you reminded kazuha of a cat who jumps away from the slightest show of affection. other times, however, you stuck close like you had all the intention of becoming his second skin. you'd deny this if he told you but he knew better. his mother had once tucked a stray strand of his hair while softly saying that nature favored him for his free soul and it appears that this time, he owes them another prayer of gratitude. the rain has once again proven that it was his friend — a friend that had kindly bought him more time with a small bonus of having you crave the warmth that emanated from his palms.

"shall we go out of bed?"

you groan but made no further move to protest. it wasn't as if you had any intention of running away from your responsibilities. while it was valentine's day, it was also a monday, the most dreadful of all workdays, and you had no intention of losing your good mood to the morning traffic.

"i'll at least help you with breakfast—" kazuha shakes his head before guiding you to the bathroom, spare towel and clothes in hand. you didn't even notice that he had everything ready until he was telling you that he had everything covered, "you sure?"

"you'll be late."

"meanie."

kazuha made no move as he watched you pad to the bathroom. he ought to tell you off for walking barefoot when the mahogany flooring was cold but there was something strange in his lungs. it squeezed — lightly, not enough to be painful but enough to be felt — and oddly, it was a feeling he could easily mark as delightful. it was befuddling to face an emotion he has yet to recognize but it was fine. if it was a feeling he gained from being around you, he's bound to put a name to it eventually. after all, he was planning to stick by your side for a long, long time.

content with his realization, kazuha tugged at his sweater's sleeves. he could hear the sound of the shower being turned on, followed by the rhythmic pattering of water to the tiled floor. once, he had no use for a heater, having an inexplicable tolerance for the freezing water in his apartment but then you came along and he found himself scurrying to accommodate you. the shrill scream you let out as you showered for the first time in his place was quite unforgettable and even more so was your blatant avoidance of his gaze. embarrassment on you was a hue that he found endearing but he'd never place his satisfaction over your comfort. lying wasn't his forte, preferring very technical wording instead but somehow, it was easy to smile apologetically and tell you that he was having trouble with his morning showers as well.

not soon after, you gifted him one of the many piles of blankets he had stored in the spare room. "stay warm. i'm not very good at looking after sick people," you said and he wondered how he could be stuck freezing in the cold when your eyes were the warmest of all. sincere and caring. you didn't tell him that you won't look after him when he's all gross and vulnerable — just that you weren't the best at it. kazuha had shuddered then, finding the intensity of your gaze to be the right amount of heat that he was craving for all this time.

it was no wonder that kazuha has earned a lot of mocking contempt from his friends for always thinking and speaking of you fondly but how could he ever stop when you're effortlessly adorable as you wore his go-to scarf with a frustrated pout. you didn't even have to do anything. all you had to do was stand still and breathe and he would be all over your feet, singing you praises and thanking you repeatedly for sharing your tender heart with him.

the bedroom door suddenly opened and he realized that he was too burrowed in his thoughts to realize that you have long left the shower. you were fiddling with his scarf. a pleased smirk came to his face as he realized that a part of him was going to be with you all day long and that it should be enough to silently cue your coworkers to stay on their lanes. how strange... it was unlike him to be so territorial. perhaps the valentine mood wasn't all lie after all. shaking such nasty thoughts, he met you in the middle, gingerly unraveling the scarf to rewrap it around you but without the unsightly creases your earlier rush caused.

"you don't need to leave so soon," he smiles tenderly as he gently tugs at your arm to pull you back to his warmth, "my place is yours, after all."

you knew what he was referencing. fragments of you could be found everywhere you look in his cozy apartment and it was as if cupid shot yet another barrage of arrows to your heart as you fall crazy in love all over again. you like this. you truly, with all of that word's sincerity, like this. you like how you seamlessly mesh into his life— how natural your toothbrush sits next to his fancy bamboo one. you love how his body was always the right degree of warm during rainy days. you love him. you love him so much that it's a wonder that this world could contain it.

"very sneaky," you drawl, making no effort to hide your entertainment, "i never thought you'd be the one to influence me to lag behind."

"there is no need to make me out to be a villain, dove. i am always by your side, wishing for you to receive only the best."

you pause before nodding, burrowing your face into the scarf in the process. it smelled like him — like his apartment; like home and you wonder just when you began recognizing this small but cozy place to be the one place you'll come back to after a day's worth of work. you don't question the why because you knew the first time you set your foot inside this place — even when back then the wallpapers were old and dirty and he refused to pay for 'unnecessary' appliances — that it was only a matter of time before you were dancing in the kitchen as you cooked dinner with a skilled artist as your sous chef. it was never a how or why, only a when and even that didn't matter all too much because it would come to be eventually.

domesticity. the mere sound of the word had your blood rushing in excitement for what was in store for the future and without a doubt, you knew that you and kazuha had both silently agreed that you liked how that word sounded with the affectionate articulation of the other.

"i have to go now. you've held me back long enough, mister."

kazuha easily dodged the soft flick you were supposed to give him. realizing that you weren't going to call in sick after all, he sighed before handing you a carefully crafted bento. noticing your confused stare, he shrugged nonchalantly, "it's unhealthy to skip breakfast and someone has to make sure that you're not doing so just because you are running late."

"holy crap," you gape at him, heart going mad crazy underneath all your layers, "marry me. like right now."

kazuha rose a brow before laughing, placing one final kiss on your cheek before shooing you off gently. your words had affected him a little too well and the lung-squeezing feeling from before returned ten-fold. whatever it was, it was for sure your doing and he had not the heart to complain. similarly, he has yet to find the heart to speak of the box hidden under his sock drawer ever since a year ago. no matter... it will come to be eventually — naturally and all in the due course of time that looked upon you fondly.

© 2021 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐗𝐗. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms but reblogs are appreciated.

01. COME BACK TO ME… ALiVE.

     |     kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader.      |     all you wanted from him was one single      |     thing: to come back from inazuma alive.

✎.. warnings → none. 

As he had peered upon his most beloved, Kazuha’s gaze was as gentle as the silence which had enveloped them. Crimson hues narrowing into an expression of comfort and adoration, a face that he had worn most often in your presence.

For in his line of sight, your profile spying back at him was all that he could see. The mesmerizing azure of Liyue’s vast ocean separating himself and his home nation, and the distant outlines of aged mountains of rock presenting themselves as your background had gone by completely unnoticed by him. His full, undivided attention had been gifted to you, and you alone. In the last few minutes before a lengthy, possibly dangerous departure to Inazuma, he would have it no other way.

His ears had accordingly blocked out all noise of the Crux fleet’s shouting in the near distance behind him, per his wishes to memorise each and every subtle detail in your expression without distraction. But for you, the various shouts of the men and women on that ship were all you could hear, and they did little to ease you of the gloomy pit of worry which had been rendering you heavy for the last few hours.

The amount of details that Kazuha had hidden from his stories were few, and so you were well-versed in the dangerous state of present day Inazuma. The famous death of his old friend, and his current title as wanted fugitive, there was just so much which could go wrong during this journey.

Tilting your gaze down, you had reached to grasp both of his hands in your own. Holding them tenderly, as if you were attempting to convey your complex mix of emotions to him through them.

“Kazuha, I…” you trailed off, becoming a little too conscious of the abundance of noise surrounding you both. Could you be getting overwhelmed?

The more you had attempted to think of a way to continue, the farther your expression had proceeded to drop. Faltering more and more, completely betraying your inner promise to try and hide it. Of course, the man standing opposite you had definitely noticed it. For his gaze upon you was observant enough to pick out even the slightest of negativity.

You had felt as his hands had slowly moved so that he, instead, was the one holding yours, as opposed to you previously holding his. The gentleness of his hands were felt even through the bandages which sheltered one of them. Eyes closing into the most comforting smile so that you could not see the determination which had set his eyes aflame. In a movement too fast, he lifted your hands up to his face, planting a single, brisk kiss to the first place he could.

“Long before news of my deeds in Inazuma have travelled over these stormy seas, my love, I will be back here by your side. Please do not concern yourself with my safety, for yours should be the only thing on your mind. You trust me, no?”

As his eyes opened again, you found your words. Barely.

“Of course I do,” your hold on his hands had tightened slightly. “Of course I trust you. Just… just make sure you stick to your word. Come back to me. Alive, okay? Alive and safe, that is all I ask.” 

This time, he had not concealed the determination which had flickered in his gaze. He had allowed his expression to display his passion, his insuppressible motivation to ensure that he makes it back to you no matter what.

“I promise.”

This is so pretty!!!

[6:21] . . .

miya osamu loved being a tease. he knew you were only his best friend—one that he couldn’t cross the line with. but whenever he looked at you, he couldn’t stop himself. your eyes almost teased him. it was like you were trying to tempt him into kissing you. or your lips, always a little parted as if making him want to smirk into the kiss.

but he’d shake his thoughts aside, looking away from you to distract himself. you wouldn’t notice, but osamu was really falling for you.

so this fine morning, as the two of you head out to open your co-owned restaurant—onigiri miya, you casually pulled out a box of pocky sticks, snacking on them as the two of you sat in the train together. osamu chuckled at you, calling you a child when you poked your tongue out at him. walking to the restaurant took almost no time, the sun barely rising behind the two of you.

osamu, being the oblivious man he is, didn’t catch you stealing quick glances at him as the two of you talked. his face being perfectly blended with the slight rays of tuscany being shone upon him. his umber hair swept to the side, as his black turtleneck accentuated his steel-blue eyes. he looked at you almost nonchalantly, but still with that small of a smile—you loved teasing him about it, saying, “‘samu, you seriously call that a smile? show yer teeth, you idiot!”

you finally arrived at your restaurant, opening the doors and ready to prep for the day. down to your last pocky stick, you pouted at it. eyes dejected and nose scrunched up almost adorably, you stared at it for a couple of seconds. you brushed your hair away from your face when osamu called out your name from behind the counter, asking why you were still standing there.

he sighed, walking up to you, with an almost 'i’m dead inside’ look on his face. he raised an eyebrow as you placed the pocky in your mouth, your cerise lips almost taunting him to take the other end of the stick. he rolled his eyes, his gaze almost scintillescent as he snatched the stick out of your mouth.

you were about to protest, when he finally lost it. holding your face with one hand, finally placing his plump lips on yours, with the unfinished pocky stick in the other hand. the simple, bucolic, kiss as cars and bicycles drove by right outside your shared restaurant felt more or so magical; osamu chuckled as he placed the pocky stick down on a table—all the while still kissing you.

“i’ve been waiting to do that for a million years,” he muttered without a smile, but a blush clearly giving away that maybe he wasn’t totally heartless.

“well, i’ve been waiting for you to make a move for ten million years,” you huffed, reaching out to the pocky stick, but osamu got to it before you.

“you ate the whole pack. this one’s mine. [grandma/grandpa],” he smirked, putting it in his mouth as he walked back behind the counter, preparing ingredients for today.

“'samu!”

“clean the table, yer pocky was on it!”

miya osamu was your abditory—your hiraeth.

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tw/cw: implied nsfw, 18+ only, marking, mostly fluff + yearning

SCARAMOUCHE can’t love you the way a human can.

he won’t tell you how much your presence soothes him, why he constantly seeks you out to give you inane orders, missions. he can’t tell you what he really thinks of you—you smell nice, your hand in his is warm, you make him feel something in his chest that he swore was long ago discarded. so he hides his kindness, his ever-so-fallible emotions, behind his lightning strikes.

“tsk, you’re such an idiot.” “are you really going to ask me a question you already know the answer to?” “get over here. don’t make me repeat myself.”

he thinks you’re a fool. it is one thing to love him as a god, to revere him and dedicate your life to him—but to love him as a man, in a human way? idiotic. absurd.

scaramouche is so used to people leaving him, discarding him once they grow bored or he loses his usefulnesss. he is not too much of a liar to acknowledge the fear exists in him: that one day you may do the same—leave him, discard him once you see how truly inferior he is to others.

it is hard enough to be a puppet whose strings were cut once, but to lose your audience too? it’s as if the world is crashing down on him once more.

but scaramouche wants so desperately to prove that he exists, that only he can bestow upon you the greatest ecstasy. that only he can fulfill you, leave his mark on you. he bites hard, he grips fiercely. he leaves a myriad of hickeys over every inch of you, marks you hard enough to leave purple splotches in the shape of his fingertips, angry red streaks down your back. when the marks disappear, he leaves more. and more.

they’re not going to fade like he had—you’re not going to forget him like his creator had. every day you should be reminded of how deeply he’s ingrained himself into you, how you’ll never be the same without him. he makes sure of it.

but he wonders sometimes if he should give into that softness that you awaken in him. when you’re lying bared before him, resting peacefully (something he never has to do). he likes observing you sleep, something so very human and mundane. something he would scorn to tell you if you were aware of it. brushing a strand of hair from your face, tracing patterns down your side, gripping the plushness of your thigh, he draws you closer to him this way.

in these moments, he thinks that if he had a heart, you would certainly have a tight hold on it.

that only makes him yearn for one even more.

hello!! how have you being?? well I saw this video ( https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSGs2ona/ ) on my fyp page and I though that this will be actually cute and perfect with akaashi!! So, May I ask some hc or one shot in which the reader do this with akaashi? Can be however you want to. :D

in my kaashi feels rn because when am i not. i have never felt more in love with a fictional character omfg

i hope you like this!! i made it a lot more dramatic than the tiktok im sorry 

━ the wind feels as in love as you are as it twirls past the two of you, brushing through your lover’s hair ever so sweetly. he’s a dream before your eyes as he guides the way through broken branches and fallen leaves, his hand delicate in yours. there’s no noise overwhelming you, just the silent crushing of dead leaves beneath your heavy feet and the wind as it twists around your frames. there exists no end and no beginning to the woods you’re losing yourself in, but you’ve never felt more at home as his fingers lock with yours.

he turns, an easy smile on his lips, and his eyes shine as he strengthens his hold on your hand, before pulling you forward. you rush towards him, into his awaiting arms, and suddenly you’re dancing and swaying with the trees as your audience. they stand over you as guardians, and as akaashi tips you back, as you lean into his embrace and stare up at the sky, you smile up at the bare branches in gratitude. 

his light laughter rings clear through the empty forest, and you sigh dreamily with your face turned away from his, before he twirls you back around. his hand finds its way to your waist, and your own settles on his shoulder, the other enclasped in his hand. the two of you rock from side to side, a little too dramatically, a little too theatrically, but this is the widest you’ve seen him smile, he’s baring all of himself to you like this, and his heart glows, evident in the shine of his eyes as he beams down at you. 

“ever the romantic you are, akaashi keiji,” you tease, but you don’t falter in your step when he lifts his arm up, yours with it, guiding you into a twirl before you rest back safely in his arms. 

“only for you,” he admits wholeheartedly, and you believe him as he spins you away. you let yourself laugh freely, skipping over a branch before running back over to him. “come here,” he says by your ear, and you hum, pulling yourself closer to him. your arms snake around his neck, and you lift yourself up nearer to him, to his pretty lips, and his pretty eyes, and pretty, soft skin. his arms are steady around your waist, encouraging you to lean up higher until you’re a breath away from kissing him. 

“i’m afraid i have to admit that i,” you start, your lips teasingly hovering over his, and he breathes you in, watching as you eye him carefully, before continuing, “am hopelessly in love with you.”

he hums appreciatively, and his fingers dig deeper into your waist, holding you to him, ensuring to him that you are real, and you are his, and you are in love with him. and then he kisses you, and there’s a weight on your chest, a breathtaking weight, but one that’s oddly pleasurable, one that you find comfort in as he presses his lips to yours, and kisses you deeper and deeper and deeper until he says, “i am,” a sigh, a hum, another deep kiss, “hopelessly in love with you, too.” 

end note; nobody touch me akaash keiji isn’t real im SAD