nen

<3 she/her || on like every side of tumblr for some reason?

[kingkaisen]

TW: death & angst

—

“I have . . . a wife.”

Kento Nanami’s last words were painful to utter — both from the serious injuries he sustained and from holding back tears that threatened to fall down his cheeks.

He didn’t mind dying, as he was exhausted. Beyond tired.

But he would never see you again, and he would never get a chance to say goodbye.

He couldn’t think about that right now, though.

If he did, he would cry.

And with Mahito’s chilling hand pressed against his bare back, he didn’t know how much time he had left to speak to his traumatized student.

“I have a wife, Itadori. I love her so, so much.” Nanami smiled sadly — as much as he could with his half-burned face. “Her name is Y/N. F/N L/N. Find her and my daughter. Tell them I love them, okay? Say it over and over again . . . so they won’t forget it. Make sure they aren’t too sad. Keep them safe. Y/N . . . she oversleeps a lot and forgets to take her medicine. She’s very clumsy too, so just . . . watch over her for me. She won’t buy her favorite snacks unless she thinks I’ll eat them with her, so try to share them with her when I’m gone. She hates watching her favorite shows alone . . . and going to the mechanic . . . she hates being alone, Itadori. Please don’t leave her alone. My kid’s young — she won’t remember me in a few years — so when you tell her about me, just tell her that daddy loves her, okay?”

“I-“

“Itadori,” Nanami interrupted sternly, yet tiredly. His grin softened. He imagined the beautiful faces of his wife and daughter one last time. “You’ve got it from here.”

As Nanami exploded from Mahito’s horrific technique, he died with the hope that someday, he would see you and his sweet girl again.

That someday, he might.

And he will be waiting.

[velkia]

Patre0n request - Mistletoe 💚

[velkia]

pt. 2 💕

[nendero]

THE BACK BLUSH SO CUTIE LMAOO

[blackwhitefeatherart]

Doctor Gojo ╳ Nurse Geto

[leosxrealm]

for my boys who i think wouldn't be able to believe that the person they have been pining on for so long is kissing them

Sakusa, Kageyama, Kyotani, Tendou, Iwaizumi (hq) :: Isagi, Bachira, Nagi, Kunigami, Tokimitsu, Ness (bllk)

source: pinterest

[axelaxsy]

Hidden Inventory / Premature Death fan poster 🌊

[gummie-s]

I HAVE THE H WORD THOUGHTS RN IF I COME UP WITH SOME FLUFFY STUFF I’LL SEND IT LOL. Making it a point to piss Tamaki off every day. Somehow you end up in his room, ass in the air, vibrator set on high hammering on your clit, and tamaki slapping your thighs all while calling you all the mean names he could think of <3 you fuck with his sanity, he will ( quite literally) fuck with yours. He wouldn’t look at you for weeks after that bc we all know this man is red as fuuuck hdjsj- - 🍡

PLEASE IM ASKING FOR HORNY STUFF THIS ISNT EXACTLY A FLUFFY BLOG!

cw: name calling, slut shaming, degradation, overstim

pissing tamaki off is such a specific thing like i feel like he's usually grumpy but most of the time he pins his negative feelings as a fault of himself... but he knows you're trying to make him mad and it's making him more upset to know it's working, he hates the way you tease and flaunt, the way you lead others on trying to get a jealous rise out of him. and even if it's not that, you do little things on purpose that you know bug him, pet peeves if you will. it all builds and builds until he snaps and tamaki has to grab you by your wrist like he's scolding a child and drag you off to his room where he knew he had what he needed.

tamaki is usually soft spoken, and chose his words carefully when he spoke to others, but right then with you all to himself and his anger a fuming mass fueling his actions he doesn't care what is coming out of his mouth. he doesn't care how much your jiggling thighs sting because you need to be punished and he will make sure you get it through your pretty little head.

tamaki spanking your thighs and switching to your ass when you don't stop fucking whining about them 'oh, it huuurts, stop it! ow,' you'd squeak like an annoying little cunt, even though you're gushing for him. speaking of, your poor little pussy is all wet and pulsing with his hand pressing a vibe to your clit, refusing to take it away unless you squirted for him.

"please, 'maki, i can't, i can't do it," you cry, pawing at his sheets, naked body rocking and squirming.

tamaki smacked your ass, "stop talking like that. stupid bitch, you can, and you will."

"you've done it before, moaning like a fucking whore too, so why can't you now?" he pinched your thigh, hard enough you know it'll bruise, your poor skin aching and hot to the touch. "tell me."

"want-- need more," you admitted in a hushed tone.

"i see. you needy slut, you just can't leave me alone, you're such a pest." he spread your cheeks with his fingers and rubbed the vibrator on your pussy, flicking the setting up higher and earning a sobbing moan from your throat. "tamaki this, tamaki that," he spanked your ass again, harder. "tamaki, tamaki, tamaki." he mocked you with his teeth grit.

"well, you've got my full attention now. fuck, just cum."

you of course do end up squirting all over his bed, crying and whimpering apologies you know he'll accept once he's done with you.

[ummmlife]

i love motofuyusso's art 🩷 please follow them if you also thirst for nanami

[jujutsutrash]

I saw an image of Geto as a Catholic Priest on tiktok and it has been keeping me up at night with some hella unholy thoughts. So have a thing about Father Geto written so those thoughts will maybe free me. Still, might write more for this later, maybe. Geto x Reader. Around 1k. NSFW AS HELL, minors leave. Some slight dubcon, maybe a bit of coercion kink. Unprotected piv, breeding kink (sorta coerced). I can feel all the catholics in my bloodline cursing me right now, my parents baptized me for nothing.

Father Geto who is such a kind and generous man of the cloth. So caring and dedicated to his community, truly a shepard to his flock. And he cares for every single one of his sheep. But despite his best intentions, he finds himself taking a special liking to one.

Father Geto who meets every single soul that enters his church with a smile, but the one he gives you feels more tense. You make him feel things he hasn't in years. A desire that goes against every oath he has sworn.

Father Geto who always greets you with a warm hand on your shoulder and a gentle voice. But conflicting thoughts spin in his head. He knows it's wrong, but the lust within him only worsens over time. To him you are pure temptation, and he is just a man, still prey to the weaknesses of of the flesh.

Father Geto who can't help the fire that consumes him every time he sees you, every time you talk. You seem so at ease around him, and it only makes this feel worse. Though, Geto still can't help but let his eyes wander over your form, gaze tracing your curves when you aren't looking.

But one day you notice. And you gaze back at him with the same stare.

Father Geto who can barely fight it. You play the staring game for a not very long time before one day he finally drags you into the presbytery attached to the small church. It's night and the church is empty, except for the two of you. He has you pushed against the wall, lips on yours as you tug at his hair, pulling it lose from it's usual bun.

Father Geto who hears your weak attempts at fighting back. Saying this feels wrong, asking him how he can do that, telling him he is going to break his vow. He meets every one of your arguments with an answer. There is more to being a man of the cloth than just the vows. Not even priests are free of sin. If you both feel it, it must be God's plan. And God's plan can't feel wrong.

It's all in God's plan. It's all in God's plan. It's all in God's plan. He repeats in your ear until the words fall from your lips. A shepard to his sheep and you follow the lead, accepting his words and the way his large hands roam over your body. He looms over you like a predator, thick arms puling you up easily, and you never realized he was this strong before.

Father Geto who doesn't even really remove his vestments that first time. He only undresses as much as he needs, only enough for you to marvel at how massive his cock is. Almost a sin for it to be wasted on a priest. His black robes shield his body and yours as Geto holds you against the wall. It sways as he pushes his thick length all the way into your wet pussy, a moan escaping both of you. He fucks you hard, fast and desperate. And when he cums over your thights and pussy, he promises this will only happen once.

But it doesn't.

He fucks you again. And again. And again. Each time meeting your arguments with an answer. Until you argue no more. You visit the church at night. He passes by your house at times. Nobody minds, he visists people all the time, he is that dedicated to his community. Truly a great man.

Father Geto who still acts like the holiest of men in church. So kind, so gentle, so forgiving of all. Almost a saint to all those who see him. But at night, you suck him under the table he uses to write his sermons, swallowing his thick seed as he caresses your hair. When in your house, he eats you on your bed, cross dangling from his neck as his tongue teases the entrance of your pussy.

You've commited so many mistakes, why not one more.

Father Geto who one day just grunts and shakes as he finishes deep inside your pussy, leaving you in almost panic as you feel his cock throbbing, warm cum flooding your insides. He always finishes outside, so why this now? You tremble as he holds your back to his chest, nose buried in your neck. You try to tell him he shouldn't have done this, that you are not on the pill, but he isn't hearing it, too focused on the way his seed spills out of you when he pulls out.

It gets him going again, and your weak struggles are sushed by a gentle tone that in nothing reflects the way he is slamming into you again. He tells you that you are just too tempting. That this is the ultimate purpose for the weakness of the flesh. That it must be God's plan. At this point, it has to.

Father Geto who drills into you with conviction, chasing the thought of getting you pregnant with his seed. It feels too good and you are moaning as he is praising you all the way. This time he says he is going to fill you up, and you try to argue, telling him it's not a safe day, urging him to pull out. It only seems to rile him up more.

His deep voice sushes your pleas. Telling you it's fine, telling you if you get pregnant then it's a happy thing. Every life is a gift from God. And it's about time you became a mommy anyway. You are capable and reliable, you'd make a great mother. He whispers to you in that gentle tone that the moment your womb bore fruit would be the most beautiful moment in these ugly times.

Father Geto who cums hard and deep inside you, flooding your pussy with his thick and sticky seed as he shushes your arguments with his own. It's the strongest orgasm he could ever experience. And the next time he cums inside, you don't argue. He doesn't cum outside anymore. It becomes the norm.

And when you show up to his church one night, with a pregnancy test in hand, he drapes a strong arm over your shoulder, pulling you into that kind, warm embrace. He speaks to you in that ever gentle tone, like a shepard, full of love for his growing flock. Such a kind priest, that Father Geto, so supportive of his community. You were lucky to have him.

[babykyum1-deactivated20231030]

Going FERAL RN you don't understand how obsessed im with these two!! 🤧🥴😍

Credit to the: Snifflesmp4

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

when Diluc falls for you -- lil fic ♡

so I had the sereniteapot conversation with Diluc where he awkwardly offers to name a drink after the traveler and BAM a WAVE no no a FLOOD of inspiration hit me. This dork has all of my attention now. I just have to write about how he falls in love with you ♡

also I CACKLED when the traveler was like ummm...maybe not...

poor Diluc (ㅠ‸ㅠ) he was trying to shoot his shot

don't worry love, I'll fix this.

Diluc x fem!reader II fluff

Nothing could shake Diluc.

In every sense of the word, he was a man of steel. From the way his armor forebodingly clangs as he protects the streets of Mondstadt from the dark of the night to the stone faced expression he wears like a birthmark.

No one could have a conversation with him without shaking in their boots at their approach, wary of drawing his intimidating gaze. Angel's share had a pattern of always being much less rowdy when Diluc was bartending...

Adelinde and Kaeya were the only two people who had no circumspection when it came to their family member. And yes, even though Adelinde is a maid and Kaeya is his estranged brother, there was a silent, subconcious agreement between the three that they were a family...whether they liked it or not...and Adelinde seemed to be the only one to like it.

Adeline could nag Diluc about taking care of himself and Kaeya could bug him to no end without any fear of his retalliation. Sure, Diluc would swing Kaeya like a claymore into the fountain at the heart of the city without a moment of hesitation, but Kaeya would never be afraid of him, not like strangers were.

Diluc did not mind the distance between him and others. He was resolved in limiting his relationships, limiting how close he'd let somone get to him, always concerned with what ulterior motives a person is hiding...

...then you came along.

The night you walked into his tavern, the world seemed to change it's hue. The moment he first saw you, it was like you'd pulled all of the air out of his lungs. You were...so beautiful. Just your features alone moved him in a way no other person had. His eyes followed your movement throughout the room as you mosied around to chat with your aquaintances and friends. An aura of soft, comforting light eminated from you, brightening the atmosphere of the room just by your presence in it.

You were glowing. So much so that he felt like he had to avert his gaze to keep his eyes from burning...but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pry them from you.

For once, he was the one afraid of drawing the attention of another person.

But there you were, propped up on his counter by your forearms, beaming at him like his own personal sun.

"Good evening! Could I get a Death After Noon, please?"

Of course your voice had to ring like the purest silver bell. It sent shivers up his spine. He was truly beginning to wonder if you were an angel...

...to the point that he was so lost in thought he forgot to respond, and he was staring.

It didn't help that his resting gaze was a foreboding grimace.

"...would that be alright?", you asked, confused. Did you offend him?

He came to, giving his head a quick shake and clearing his throat.

"...certainly." was all he could state, quickly turning his attention to fixing your drink.

Diluc had a strict rule against accepting orders for Death After Noons. Whenever a guest would request it, he would authoritatively refuse. The cocktail was Kaeya's favorite drink, so Diluc had banned it from his tavern as a way of deterring his drunkard brother. If Kaeya wanted his treasured liquor, he would just have to bug Diona for it instead...and Diluc felt more secure having Kaeya at her tavern to look after her. But he would never admit to that.

The fact that Diluc had shown not even a moment of reservation at your request had heads turning.

In a blink of an eye, Diluc sat your cocktail in front of you in the prettiest glass he had. Although he hadn't made this drink in who knows how long, he was careful not to let it slip below perfect standards; even though you were only a stranger, he was...desparate for you to like what he made for you.

He expected you to take it and leave like the other patrons did, as no one but a blacked out Venti felt comfortable in the close proximity to him, but you slipped right onto the barstool in front of him and scooted yourself up to sip the drink.

The pleased hum that left your throat had Diluc awash with pride.

You were a treasure.

"So this is your tavern?"

...was that addressed to him? He wasn't sure if he had just hallucinated or not. Did you...want to talk to him?

"...hello?"

With another jolt of recognition, he snapped back to reality. You really were trying to talk to him.

"Sorry, yes. I own the place."

"You must be Diluc then! Kaeya's told me a lot about you."

"Oh, has he."

Fuck.

He could not mask the distaste in his tone, having nearly growled the statement before he could catch himself. If his odd response time and tense physicality hadn't already deterred you, his intimidating attitude was sure to. He braced for your discomfort.

"So you really don't like him!" you giggled, taking another gleeful sip of your drink. "That's alright. Hating your family members comes and goes."

Every statement you made had him reeling. You fell right into step with him despite his awkward pace--everything about him that had even his close aquaintences in a cautious state of mind flew right over your head. You looked right past his guarded demeanor and spoke to him, not his personage.

"...I suppose it does.", he agreed; it was hard not to see your point when your voice was so charming.

The way your twinkling eyes held his softened his gaze--your joyful character brought the faintest upturn to his lips. The cheer in his typically cold expression had the drunkards of the tavern pouring their drinks out--cutting themselves off for the night because the liquor must have them seeing things. Diluc Ragindvr can't smile.

"What's your favorite drink?", you asked, not wanting your conversation to die out. You just had a natural affinity for him; his elusive and restrained character made you want to learn more, and despite his first impressions, he seemed like a nice guy!

As he answered that he doesn't drink and your conversation continued on, he tried to compose the bashfulness your attention caused him, busying himself so he wouldn't have to look you into your gorgeous doe eyes. Their existence alone threatened to send him into cardiac arrest. He was white knuckling his countenance, battling with his body to keep a blush from staining his cheeks every time his gaze met yours.

You were a chatty one, jumping from meaningless topic to meaningless topic with a tell me about this, tell me about that, how do you feel about this?, what do you think about that?

Diluc loathed small talk. Not only did aimless chatter annoy him, he also just wasn't good at making conversation that wasn't straight to the point. He had trouble with bluntness, and had to think about his responses thoroughly before he stated them--it was exhausting to converse properly, so he didn't like to waste energy doing it with no purpose.

...but somehow, it wasn't as hard with you. There was no limit to your understanding, so he felt safe getting tongue-tied or making conversational mistakes. You didn't seem to mind at all, which kept him talking, and if a chat with him would entertain you, he would gladly participate.

You stayed all the way until closing, never leaving the best seat in the house. Even when he had to attend to other customers, breaking the flow of your conversation, you'd wait patiently for his attenion again. You were such a sweetheart, he couldn't imagine what he did to earn your interest, but he was completely, hopelessly stirred by you.

When you tried to pay your tab, he was almost offended, closing your fist before you could set your mora down--an action that sent the palm of his hand that connected with your soft skin ablaze.

"Our discussion was payment enough."

Your smile gripped his heart like a vice, your adorable "thank you" ringing in his ears even after you'd turned and left.

"Eye talg to you all tha time an you don pay my tab?", slurred the drunken bard who had made the dark corner of the bar counter his permanent residence.

"Go home, Venti."

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

From then on, you and Diluc had become budding friends! Your visits to his tavern were always appreciated; you held his willing attenion for as long as you'd stay, and the more you learned about one another, the more your fondness grew.

You two had even started meeting outside of the tavern, taking walks together or sharing lunch--and when you'd need to leave the safety of the nation's gates to run an errand, he'd insist on accompanying you, no matter how busy his work day was.

Soon, the goo-goo eyes you gave each other that the tavern patrons momentarily mistook for the brink of alcohol poisioning became the gossip of Mondstadt. There was not a civillian of the nation that didn't have an interest in the wine tycoon, meaning any crumb about his rumored love life was devoured gluttonously. After the hearsay reached her ears, Donna dissapeared for a week. Now, the flowers in her shop get a little extra water every time you walk by...because she sobs into the pots.

The only person in the entirety of Mondstadt that hadn't been made aware of Diluc's obvious crush was you.

You were too wrapped up in your own feelings for him to notice his hints slapping you across the face.

The way he'd offer to help you out with difficult tasks or get you something that you want, or even go as far as to give you little gifts that he'd come by with you in mind, all went right over your head. Sure, they'd have your heart fluttering, but you were afraid to assume his intentions, mistaking his favor for you as just courteous friendship.

You'd developed quite a collection of his affections: a small bundle of lavender he'd cut for you on his walk into town--that you'd dried and kept as a decoration in your room, a special glass he'd reserved for exclusively your drinks at his tavern, even falcon privilages.

If you needed to send a message to him, it'd be expedited by his dutiful bird. How his falcon always happened to be around when you needed to send word to Diluc, you hadn't a clue...unknowing that he had charged it with looking after you in his stead. He needed to be sure that if you were ever in danger, he'd be alerted immediately; the thought of you being defenseless in the face of peril had him clenching his jaw in anxiety--you were just too perfect to be left vulnerable to the darkness of this world.

Though his heart would sieze with panic every time he had an incoming message from you, assuming you were in desparate need of his help, he couldn't stay mad about the mini heart attack you gave him when the non-emergency message you sent was a sweet invite to yours for tea or a funny thought that had come to your mind.

He kept every single letter.

At a certain point, the sparse, light touches and amorous looks between you two became increasingly indicative of your shared feelings.

After the last time you hosted him for tea, and that moment where you two were saying goodbye at your open front door...standing just close enough to feel one another's breath on your lips...both of you hesitating just long enough for the other one to lean in for a kiss...before he politely cleared his throat and took his leave...

...that had you sleepless, tossing and turning with butterflies, all night.

You were dying for him to make a move on you.

...but that was a challenge for Diluc.

He was respectful to a debilitating degree--the last thing he'd want is to make you uncomfortable if his affection for you is not reciprocated. He'd hate if any mistake of his were to weaken your close relationship.

He didn't have what you two had with anyone else--he cherished your connection. If it was scuttled by his doing, the grief he'd feel would be immense.

And beyond that, he's never been skilled at expressing his emotions. At a certain point, intentionally having your guard up leads to an inability to let anything come out. Every time he's tried to tell you how beautiful you look, how dear to him you are, the words just get jumbled up and can't escape his throat. He always ends up saying something like, "this day has been a nice one.", or, "I appreciate your time.".

He doesn't know that those statements settle in your heart and make their home there. That you don't forget them.

After that moment you shared at your front door, where he had to mentally restrain the animalistic urge to just pull you in for a kiss then and there, he decided he could no longer let his adoration for you go unsaid.

Truly, he knew he had a responsibility to say something for fear that if he didn't, and you continued to see him, he'd eventually lose that mental struggle and throw aside his composure as a gentleman in lieu of satisfying the need to touch you, to have you.

It had become an unbearable craving.

The night he confessed, you'd entered Angel's share at your scheduled time--the hour of night where there's typically a lull in activity at the tavern, when everyone has drank just enough to need to slow down and you can have Diluc's undivided attention.

When you rolled into the seat that practically had your name on it at this point, he'd already had a drink waiting for you in the signature glass he'd gotten for you--modeled after a small lamp grass flower with a blue hue.

From the look of it, you didn't recognize the cocktail he'd made for you, and after taking a sip, you realized it was nothing you'd tasted before; it was sweet like honey and had a sour sting to it with floral notes, and the typical sharp taste of alcohol was well disguised, making it slip down your throat pleasantly.

Your happy hum after tasting a cocktail he'd made for you never failed to fill Diluc with satisfaction.

"Is this a new recipe?"

He nodded once.

"What's in it? It's divine.", you sigh, trying your best to keep from downing it too quickly.

"Mead, honeysuckle, lemon juice, gin...", an influx of nerves ran up from his stomach to his heart, but he refused to cower, "...and all my love for you.".

Your attention snapped from the golden drink to his face, surprise turning your cheeks pink and making your eyes go wide. Your gaze met his, which had been intensely focused on you since you'd walked in. You now found him leaning over you, face just above yours as he supported himself with his large hands on either side of where you sat---less of caging you in, and more of framing you, like a beautiful piece of artwork he stayed to admire.

"...I've given it your name."

This felt like a dream.

He'd formulated a cocktail with you in mind, using a god-given honey wine and the sweetest flower in existance, designing an original, saccharine flavor full of warmth and life...full of his deepest adoration...and gave it your name.

He gave it your name.

"...may I kiss you?", he breathed, a quiet desparation in his voice.

Not a moment after your speechless, timid nod, his restraint snapped and he closed the short distance between you two, finally claiming your lips as his own.

And, just like he imagined,

you were sweet.

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LUCKY — GOJO SATORU.

contents. baths + non sexual nudity, established relationships, tired toru :(, lots of kissies and praise for the babie :(, solid proof in the form of writing of how embarrassingly lovesick i am for this FOOL

it’s past midnight when satoru walks into your bathroom. he doesn’t even question why you’re in the bath so late—just gives you a lopsided grin tiredly as you smile.

“you’re home,” you brighten.

“look at you,” he coos, staring down at you with amused eyes, “waitin’ for me?”

satoru is tired—you can tell from the way the his shoulders are slouched and his blindfold is clutched in his hand. “i was,” you hum in agreement, “c’mere.”

it’s all it takes. he’s stripped down and waiting for you to move up so he can slide behind you in seconds, hand waving to motion you forward. but you’re stubborn—you shake your head as you hold an arm out for him.

“baby,” he whines, “c’mon i was out fighting big bad curses all day. jus’ lemme hold—”

“no. just come here, toru,” you insist.

there’s something about it—something about the way your voice is so gentle, so insistent, so knowing. it’s like you can read him more than he can, sometimes. satoru is tired, you can see it, you can feel it. you can’t carry his burdens, but you can hold him while he holds the weight of the world for a night.

maybe it’ll do for now—maybe it’ll even be enough and more.

“what? feelin’ like pampering me today?” he teases, “aren’t i a lucky guy,” he hums—but he climbs into the tub anyway, settling between your legs, leaning his back against your chest as his head falls back against your shoulder.

instantly, two gentle kisses plant themselves against his head, and his eyes flutter shut. he’s starting to feel the beginnings of a headache form—the gentle thump in his skull just barely there, but persistently present.

your thumbs rubs along the sides of his head, enough pressure to soothe the pain like you know it’s coming—he thinks you must.

“you are a lucky guy,” you giggle, “look at me. such a catch.”

he grins, chuckling that boyish chuckle of his freely in your arms as he relaxes. it’s been a while since he’s relaxed, you think—it’s half past midnight and he’ll be up with the sun in a bit to head back to the school, but it’s nice to know he’s relaxed. even just for this short, rare moment.

“oh yeah,” he nods, lips curled into a grin as he cracks an eye open and peers up at you, “s no catch like my pretty ‘lil baby. i’m living it up.”

“glad you know your privileges,” you murmur contently, shaking your head in amusement as you wrap your arms around his body. one hand rubs over his abs—he wants to tease you about feeling him up, wants to make a sly comment about missing his body more than him while he was gone. but there’s something about it, about the way it’s so slow and soothing and soft—it’s so painfully soft, satoru swallows.

finally, he lets his body go slack against yours, sliding down so his head rests against your chest and the water soaks more of his body. it’s warm. the water and your arms. it’s all so, so warm and forgiving.

“aren’t you gonna tell me how lucky you are too? i’ll listen, don’t worry. no interruptions.”

“yeah?” you chuckle, threading fingers through his hair and pulling a soft sigh from him, “wanna know how lucky i am?”

“course,” he murmurs, “well, i already know you’re lucky. it’s me after all—but i’m not opposed to hearing it.”

“how humble of you, satoru,” you snort.

he grins wider—he hasn’t had a chance to smile all day. not properly, at least.

“feel free to start any second,” he says with a wink. then his eyes flutter shut again as your thumb traces his cheek, ever so gently running along the soft angles of his face.

it’s pretty—everything about him is pretty. there are no ugly parts to satoru. just the parts painted from cruel hands. they’re beautiful too, you like to think, in their own, fragile little ways.

“okay,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head, “i’m very lucky,” you murmur into his hair.

he hums, mumbling a quiet, “knew it.”

“lucky i have such a handsome face to greet,” you pepper kisses along his forehead and find his cheek, giving it an affectionate little bite that makes him huff out an amused chuckle. “and he’s so tall too,” you add, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“that all he is?” he pouts, “just a pretty face? you’re breaking my heart, baby.”

“no,” you say quietly, grabbing his hand and brushing a thumb over his knuckles, “he’s also kind. too kind, sometimes,” you say quietly, “he comes home a bit later than usual every once in a while because he took his students out to eat. he loves them a bit too much, i think.”

“no such thing as too much love,” he hums, squeezing your hand.

you smile, admiring him as he lays against you, small in your hold even with the larger than life weight he carries.

“and he’s strong,” you add, “really strong. it’s not fair sometimes,” you whisper, “he’s got so much on his plate.”

“he handles it fine,” he assures, “he always does.”

“and then he still makes time for little old me,” you say fondly, kissing his shoulder, “never lets me feel lonely. he’s too good to me.”

“there’s no such thing a too good for you,” he gasps offendedly, pouting like you’ve insulted him, “he’s definitely not—”

“and sometimes, he comes home tired. and he tries to act like he’s not because he’s a bit of a prick who doesn’t let me help, but i’m smart and i know him well so i’ve figured it out. and if i’m extra lucky, i might get to hold him for a bit like this and help him relax.”

you squeeze him gently for emphasis, holding him closer as you press your nose into his neck and breathe in his smell. it’s like cologne that’s rudely expensive and that sweet smell only satoru has—it’s all you want to breathe in for the rest of your days.

you hope he’ll allow you that much. something tells you he will.

satoru swallows thickly at that, rubs a thumb over your bare thigh as he rests his free hand over it, the other still in your grasp.

and then, quietly, “maybe he’s fine just coming home to you,” he shrugs, “who can stay tired with such a sweet face waiting at home?”

“i don’t know,” you say thoughtfully, “he’s got a lot to take care of. wonder how he does it.”

“he’s probably the strongest,” he shoots with an easy grin, “sounds like the strongest to me.”

“he is,” you nod, “he’s a lot more than that too. i’m lucky he’s mine.”

“oh yeah?” he drawls—there’s something a little shaky about his voice though.

you choose not to mention it, pressing soft, delicate kisses along his jaw as you murmur, “yeah. he makes me feel really, really lucky. love him so much.”

“love you too,” satoru breathes, “guess we’re both really, really lucky.”

don’t talk to me i don’t want to be perceived. that’s enough softness for a lifetime so the next time i write him he’s getting hit by a bus

[wacuoms]

skater boy suguru

[luv4fushi]

hellloooo this is for a certain ask :P i couldn’t find it in my inbox (i think i deleted it on accident T—T)but if u see this, it’s for u! <3

first fight

jjk inumaki toge x fem!reader

content: silly toge agenda comes with cons too, so does dating a cursed speech user :(

[satrs]

Thank you so much for doing my previous request can i ask for another? Out of all the bllk boys who'd make the best husband? Top 5 or 10 if you want? Thank you (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Hihi! Glad u liked it^^!

The best husbands…

FIFTH…

CHIGIRI!

ok so, he in ranked a bit lower than I would like to but that’s because I think he could be hard to deal with sometimes? Like, he gets irritated quickly and stuff. But best believe if he had an argument with you of any sort, the best apology you could ever ask for is right up his sleeves. And he looks like he’s great at cooking idk… so, he’d cook for you because I said so. Also, gentleman alert. Carries ur bag, opens any door for you, it’s become natural for him to do so.

FOURTH…

KAISER!

He’s narcissistic and egotistic, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like he would push those traits aside for his loved one. Especially if he’s that far in life and has a wife. He has his flaws, but he’s doing his best to get rid of them. For you. He’s head over heels and does all that lovely-dove stuff. Just really goofy around u in general, let’s you see the side the public doesn’t get to see. He’s like a pouty baby when you both are alone.

THIRD…

NESS!

A complete mess for you. He treats you like fine china and would get the stars from the sky if you asked him to. He’s in love with you just how he was the first time he laid eyes on you, even after years of marriage. He is generally the perfect husband, but is ranked third bc I think his possessiveness would probably cause some problems💀 but besides that, quite a good catch.

SECOND…

NOA!

Idk he gives me chill husband vibes. He’d treat his wife good, give her anything she needs without thinking twice abt it. He can never say no to you. Infact, the word ‘no’ isn’t even in his vocabulary. Doesn’t even look at the price tag if you want something. He’ll just look at you, then at the expensive bag you want and pull out his black card.

FIRST place goes to…

KARASU!

Whaaaaaat? You think I do this bc I got a karasu brainrot rn? Nahhh. Yes I do. He’s the perfect, THE PERFECT package y’all. Charming, can be serious when you need him to be. Treats you just the way you deserve, got some sillyness inside of him so you can joke around with him quite a bit. He’s not to much, but also not a bore…a perfect middle. On top of that, I KNOW his proposal to you was something so perfect that my brain can’t even decipher it. I could go on and on y’all.

Worst husbands would be Otoya and Nagi and no I will not elaborate.

[popponn]

a long run. (isagi yoichi x f!reader)

notes: friends to lovers, hinted pinning, confession, post u-20 arc. this was a fit of madness at 2 am that i wrote in one sitting because isagi's spin off novels give me feelings. and then i look at manga isagi and sob lovingly.

Isagi Yoichi changed after Blue Lock—was a fact that didn’t exactly surprise you.

It wasn’t that he changed so much that he became unrecognizable too. In a way, he is still very much the Isagi Yoichi from middle school who you watched playing soccer from faraway. In many ways, he is still the more silent and timid Isagi Yoichi from high school who walked you home side by side with his bicycle.

He still stood close to you at the slightest hint of crowd, still offered you his outer and scarf whenever the air blew colder, and still smiled in a very different way whenever it was for you.

He is still Isagi Yoichi you fell in love with and jokingly give honmei chocolates for every year ever since the second spring of your middle school years.

“Hey, are you listening?”

You blinked at Isagi’s voice. Suddenly, you were not watching the past years you have spent with him, but sat across him inside of a quiet café near the neighborhood. Realizing you just spaced out right in the middle of his story, you laughed nervously, “Sorry, Isagi. Something went through my mind and I just… uh, got carried away afterwards.”

Isagi, who had learned to laugh louder and smile wider, raised an eyebrow at your response. He took a sip from his cold water and sent you a curious glance—still as familiar and friendly as ever, “Hm? What was it—that you were thinking about?”

For a moment, you wondered if you should be honest. Telling him you were thinking about his changes after the short time he spent away from home on that training camp and that match against Japan’s U-20 already sounded like either a complain or an admittance of crush. And you were not ready at all for the latter. So, in a light and airy joking manner, you gave him a teasing smile, “Well, it’s just Yocchan seems to have grown more mature while he was away from me…”

The moment you mentioned his childhood nickname, Isagi nearly choked on his drink. A hue of red bloomed on his cheeks, “What the heck does that mean?!”

“It means that you've changed, Isagi,” you answered him. At this point, you were certain you were smiling fondly at him like a lovesick fool. You hoped he was as oblivious as he was before Blue Lock, for your sake. “I mean it in a good way, though,” you added as you lightly stepped on one of his shoe as a friendly gesture.

Isagi scratched his cheek nervously, glancing away from you. Suddenly, he became nothing like the changed man you just said. You laughed a bit at that observation. To think this was the same guy who made the bold proclamation to be the one who will win the world cup—it was hilarious in a very cute way.

Then, Isagi finally replied to you after a long while, “I mean. Yeah, Blue Lock definitely changed me,” Isagi said, sounding as if he was reminiscing.

You hummed, “I can tell, if your mannerism and stories were anything to go by.”

“You didn’t even listen to my stories though,” Isagi piped up, lightly tapping your knees underneath the table with his sole.

“Hey, just because I spaced out for a second doesn’t mean I didn’t hear anything,” you protested, glaring at him.

“Kidding, kidding,” Isagi laughed, boyish yet still reserved in the way of the one you knew.

You laughed quietly at that, then continued, “But, you know. About you changing…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you do, in a way. I like it,” you finished as you let your gaze stray away to anywhere but Isagi Yoichi. Carrying the desire to say it as much as you could to him, you went on, “You look very happy and I like it.”

You didn’t mention it, nor you would ever point it out, but you knew how he was after he went to Ichinan. It felt bitter in a very selfish way, but you truly were glad that the Isagi Yoichi who talked your ears off with soccer news and trivia now had somewhere to thrive. In a way, it felt sharing something intimate to the world—but, he wasn’t even yours and he looked happier. If anything, you could felt only joy.

Sensing the sudden somberness your words brought, you immediately tried to shift the topic. “Eh, well. Sorry, did I weird you out?” you said, nervous and apologetic. “So, back to you story! What did Bachira said after—”

Not letting you finish, Isagi cut you off. “Hey, can I say something too?”

“Huh?” you made a dumb sound in confusion. Across you, Isagi met his gaze with yours. Determined and unshaken—seeing his eyes, it was impossible for you to reject him to begin with. “Uh, sure.”

“Thanks,” Isagi said, before taking a deep breath. Suddenly, it felt like he was about to drag you to a soccer match and you knew for sure you would be losing. Though before you could make a comment, Isagi resumed, “Right now, my focus is in soccer. And I will have to go back to Blue Lock too.”

Oh.

You knew where this would be going. You could feel a wet patch of heat grew from the back of your eyes, but this was Isagi Yoichi. So, like always, you listened to him to finish, even if it would be a rejection.

You would accept this as a punishment for being too obvious—you joked silently, spitefully, to yourself.

“So, you know, in the end,” Isagi didn’t stop, seemingly oblivious to your frozen state despite meeting your eyes. “I don’t think… I really had the right to ask this of you. But, you see—”

Isagi reached out for both your hands as he let your name fall of his lips. Once again, like a fool in love, you could only blink in confusion.

“—I really,” Isagi’s breath hitched. “I really want you to keep looking at me. I know this is like me asking you to wait for me until at least Blue Lock is over and say ‘no’ to everyone who tries to… you know. To you. With you.”

His hands were warm and you felt like the world was spinning. Your eyes grew wider as you slowly understood what Isagi meant by his words.

“This is really selfish of me,” Isagi chided himself with a chuckle, yet a smile that was familiar, gentle, and fond formed itself on his profile. “Still though, can I ask you to still only look at me, for now and for a very long time?”

At that time, inside that café, you realized many things in silence.

Across you, Yoichi waited for an answer that had been waiting to be said since long ago.

[nendero]

CUTIEEEA

[hanrinz]

STARRY EYES LIGHTING UP MY DARKEST NIGHTS FT. LYNEY

wherein lyney falls for you literally and figuratively, and he doesn't mind it quite a bit. or just bits of pieces of him trying being a romantic.

content: fluff, strangers to lovers typa, reader is not the traveller, flirty lyney, he's ooc sowsaury everyone, lynette is tired with the two of you. minimal proofread.

notes: hihi this is for @sixosix da only real one this is for u!! *does that corny pointing in movies* dribble dribble shoots! i just rlly need to write for him, bc he's a silly.

lyney was never star-struck, if anything he was more used to people being enchanted when they saw him.

but he would never expect it to happen to him, after all only the most beautiful things can capture the eyes of a magician—with life full of unexpected encounters and lively colors of shows—to all of which he found on you.

you, who came to the lands of justice from the lands of freedom—never being tied down to the shackles of laws—with an ecstatic gaze, you're here as where the winds have brought you. truly he thinks the momentary sight of you just by walking in the streets of fontaine didn't give enough justice for him to memorize your face. the sunlight that just makes you shine more and the way your eyes reminds him of the stars, warm they were.

and your smile. archons, he adores it. the way it just never leaves your face, you're so pretty.

he never knew anything about love, only with the books he grew up with of a fairytale he reads to his siblings at night—a hopeless romantic he was.

love at first sight. he was falling, hard and fast. like he was tumbling down into the bottomless chasm of just you. he's liking it and it should take him aback, it should scare him, but he can't find himself to do so.

it was unbelievable and it was magical to be able to know a feeling that you can know so much, but was foreign altogether. he knew right then, he was star-struck with you.

and he doesn't know what compels him to move and make his way to you. excitement dancing around his nerves as he nears you, with a smile on his face and a newfound fascination.

and just before he reaches, an unexistent rock trips him all the way to you.

it's embarrassing, lynette thinks. watching his brother fall in love, that is—literally and figuratively.

he flashes a smile at you. and you crouch down, asking him if he's okay. you're worried and he tries not to grin so much, he only replies to you with,

"i'm fine, now that you're here." he winks.

he took it as a chance to take out a rainbow rose out from his sleeves handing out to you. and you laughed, probably another thing that he finds enchanting—it's unfair, for you to have him this entrance by you.

what a memorable first meeting he had with you.

lynette cringes—her brother's antics are an embarrassment to die for. it's not a crime as far as the laws said so, but she sure hopes it is.

because now, his brother is here head in the clouds with the thought of you. his face all, but with lovey-dovey eyes.

"isn't y/n so pretty?" he sighed dreamily.

lynette looks at him with a blank stare, "you've said that for the thirteenth time today. yes, y/n is pretty."

"should i prepare a magic trick? maybe a dove or a bunny. it can be onstage, or just in the seats? ah, i have so many things to prepare..." and so many more, if she was a stranger, she would've thought her own brother is outrageous for the ideas that come to his mind just to woo you. "come now, dear sister for i have to prepare for my special guest."

it's a feeble attempt, really.

his own brother faltering down, just from you standing in front of him and anyone might not see it, but she knows his own brother.

lovestruck he was. when he took you to him showing his trick of lighting up the night in a single snap, a flower on your head magically placed delicately and he thinks you're just pretty.

"do you like it?"

another rainbow rose.

"they're pretty.."

your mesmerization, it takes his breath away. if anything he wants you to look at him, how you look at everything you love. he wants you to love him too, like how the stars never leave the skies and how the sun reflects its light on the sea.

he wants you just like how his hands die in need to reach you, how can you be so cruel to him this way?

and he breathes out, "i know."

"do you like dancing?"

the both of you stand on the stage, where you sit in one of the carts that has all their props now kept for their next show.

"back in mondstadt, we had a festival that we celebrated...and we would dance at night till the flowers fall." you recount, fondness creeps up on you with the memory.

he knows this, windblume—if he's not mistaken, he shouldn't be. after all what are those books he read for night after night just to know the culture of mondstadt? just to know you. you didn't need to catch wind of that, he can only hope charlotte wouldn't slip up with this one on you.

he imagines, you dancing with a smile on your face that he loves so much. and he wants to see it, to be able to live that vision in his head, but having you in his arms instead.

"would you dance with me then?" he offers his hand, making a little bow to you.

and you giggle, yet again at his antics. "i would love to."

"may i?" and you take his hand, he feels warm, giddy from how your hand fits together with his.

with a smile he holds you and leads you to dance to a sound the two of you can only hear and maybe it's the heartbeats that plays in your mind, but lyney thinks everything just seems more beautiful now with you here.

he's used to everyone's eyes on him as a magician, it's a normal thing. but to have you this close to him and your eyes on him, he thinks the spotlight doesn't make him special now, just the way you do.

if this was the fairytale he's known all his life, he hopes now that it will always be like those ever afters. don't wake him up and drop the glass of his heart, because he has so many more dreams he'd like to come to life with you.

he's memorizing the story now, how your eyes shine and warms him wholly, your hair dancing around as he sways you and your lips that holds a sound that he would like to hear every day.

the song ends and your hearts sync. he let's go and step back to kiss your hand, delicately with him keeping eye contact and it means so much more.

and he pulls out yet another rainbow rose out of his coat, and his eyes glazed. "it's windblume this season in mondstadt, isn't it?"

passion and romantic encounters.

"...let this rose be my oath to you."

oh, how the magician can be much of a romantic all for you. he hopes he'll be the first and the last one to give you such a gift.

◞♡ likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! here's a lyney fic bc i have beef with him <3

[m1nxqie-deactivated20231202]

he feels bad for taking away your innocence— he really does, flinching in shame knowing that he’s the one who’s done this to you when you tug at his shoulder for the millionth time, asking for him to fuck you in broad day light. he should say no, but he can’t keep his hands off you, can’t bare to not have has fingers on your skin, even more when he sees the way your innocent eyes fade into hungry and lustful ones, slowly growing more and more impatient and becoming a cock-greedy whore for him.

tight hole, squelching around his fat girth, moaning and whining out his name to go faster— god, you’re insatiable. so those once child-like eyes are now of the past, replaced with cockhungry and aroused ones. without even noticing it, he feeds into your erotic desires, placing you in his lap because he focuses so much better when he’s rutting deep inside of you.

don’t repost my work or i’ll come and do this to you 😈

[nendero]

oh nooo *reposts*