burnoutstudent @oddaesthetin - Tumblr Blog

Introduction & Masterlist

hello! i go by username oddaesthetin or kaede! i write drabbles, imagines, headcanons, and fluffs but i don't accept requests since architecture school requires most of my time (it's hella draining). i mostly just write when i feel like escaping schoolworks so they might always be a little self-indulgent.

to save you time for searching my works as i mainly just reblog, here is my masterlist, slash, all of what i have written in my few months of being on this app!

satorus-princess

“uh… why is sensei doing push-ups?” yuji asks, when he, nobara, and megumi enter the classroom.

satoru’s pushing himself up and down with one hand because, according to you, normal push-ups weren’t enough. but even then, he’s barely breaking a sweat. and he’s grinning, while you stand over him, watching with your arms crossed.

his uniform jacket is folded over the back of a chair, leaving him in his compression shirt, arm bulging and back tensing with each lift and fall of his body.

“i upset my-- hah beautiful, smart-- hah strong, gorgeous, perfect wife,” he pants, “punishment fits the crime.”

he really is right where he wants to be.

megumi doesn’t even bat an eye - this was the least unusual thing that you and satoru do. he slides into a chair with a sigh.

“how many does he have to do?”

“a hundred,” you say. satoru lifts his head to look up at you, mouth parted, little pink hearts in his eyes peering at you over the rim of his glasses. “he’s on seventy-two.”

his grin widens. “you know, this isn’t a challenge for me. why don’t you sit on my back, sweetheart?”

you crouch down in front of him and his eyes light up. “i know what you want, and you don’t deserve my touch.” you push his head down so he’s facing the floor again, and he grunts when you press extra weight, forcing his body down. “only twenty-three left. you can do it, my love.”

if his heart wasn’t beating fast enough before, it definitely was now. especially with the saccharine tone you used at the end of your sentence.

god, was he down bad.

“… call us when you’re done,” megumi says, already out of the classroom.

silly thought inspired by this video HAHA can you tell he makes me a little a lot insane

iamsoclone

satoru gives you an emergency ultrasound with his six eyes!! | SFW pure fluff + a lil angst (blink and you'll miss it) 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯

It's been 48 hours.

Forty-eight hours.

And you haven't felt a thing.

Not a roll, not a jolt, not a kick or even just a twitch. Absolutely nothing.

After 7 hours you realized it had been almost all day and you hadn't felt any movement from within the almost 6-month swell of your belly.

It was irregular. Very, very irregular. The child of Satoru Gojo couldn't sit still for more than a couple of hours. For almost 2 months you'd been kicked awake like that baby had an alarm set every hour on the hour. Starting as little flutters, and getting stronger as the weeks went on.

And you loved it. Feeling that reassurance that they were healthy and strong and there and alive. Pressing your palm to that spot and murmuring praises and soft laughs even as your organs took a beating.

You didn't realize how much it'd affect you when all that movement just stopped.

"It's weird... don't you think it's weird? Maybe I should call the midwife." You'd said with knit brows, already picking up your phone to find her contact.

"Sounds like they're being a little lazy, taking an extended nap or something." Satoru huffed a laugh, amused eyes flicking up to catch yours for a moment. But as he caught the worry on your face, his smile softened, and he rounded the counter, stopping behind you to wrap both arms around. Palms flat on your belly and you melted just a touch, like a candle first being lit.

"I’m sure they're okay, but it never hurts to check." He'd murmured into the crook of your neck and you nodded. Your shoulders easing a fraction.

But they hiked right back up when the clinic said they'd get you in at the end of the week.

You almost burst into tears right there, but held it together. Telling yourself it could wait a few days, you had no other symptoms to worry about so it would be fine. You'd get in that room in a few days and see them and hear that tiny little heart beating away like a hummingbird.

Yeah... that lasted until the next morning.

Woken up at 4 am by the feeling of complete and utter nothingness in your womb.

You wept quietly over toast with egg and avocado and enough hot sauce to melt a hole in the plate. Spicy food always got them moving, they had the same palate as their sucrose loving father.

Still nothing.

You went out to get some errands done, met up with Shoko at the school, stopped to chat with the students, especially a pretty, young first year with a blue streak and stars in her eyes as she gaped at your belly.

"Wait, Gojo-sensei is gonna be a dad?! I thought he was joking about the wife and kid!"

You laughed it off and assured that you had to be an idiot too because you picked him. But you ignored that sinking, empty feeling in your stomach. Only letting your lip wobble a little as you walked back to your car to head home.

Regret settled in at brushing Satoru off when he asked if you’d be okay if he handled a mission somewhere in Iwate prefecture and left until the next day.

You were cursing your past self as you sat on the couch at 2 am. Still. Nothing.

Fuck that stupid bitch for being rational and easy going. You wished you'd stomped your foot and pouted instead, maybe then you’d be crying into Satoru’s firm chest instead of over your last ultrasound photo, alone.

When he got back the next afternoon, there was really no gentle way to say it, but you were a hot fucking mess.

Puffy eyed and red nosed, you looked up from the couch as he walked in the front door, a chipper greeting withering and dying on his lips as he caught sight of you in rumpled pajamas surrounded by a nest of blankets and throw pillows.

He blinked behind the dark material of the blindfold, pausing for just a moment before your breathing hitched and tears welled all over again.

"It-it's like they're just... gone." Your voice broke on the word and the dam broke all over again. "I don't understand, w-why is this ha-happening?" You hiccuped, snot and tears flowing freely. "It's my fault! They're gone and its all—"

"Lay back a little," Satoru cut you off, suddenly right in front of you and pulling the blankets away from your body and you just scoffed, the sound wet and choked.

"Really?? This is so not the fucking time!" You glared, snotty and tear streaked and Satoru scoffed right back.

As much as he loved you any way you came, you weren't arousing much besides worry at that moment.

"What? What kind of guy do you think I am? Geez, just trust me and try to relax a little." He murmured, hooking a finger into the blindfold and pulling it to hang around his neck. Wispy silver bangs falling over his brow and across the blue that could only be found in the sky, and in your husband's eyes.

You pursed your lips but did as he asked, resting your head on a pillow and letting him push your pajama top up over your stomach.

Your mind immediately flung back into the pit and you swallowed hard, but stayed quiet as bright azure eyes searched your body.

"You really think you can see their signature?" You broke the silence with a whisper and those eyes found yours for a second, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

"Pfft, of course I can." He reassured, tone confident like there was never an alternative. But you caught the worry in his eyes.

You laid there as Satoru scanned over your belly. Seconds felt like hours until finally his eyes went wide and his lips twitched up.

Cursed energy read differently from living beings to the deceased, and he'd just caught the flickering pulse of something very much alive.

"Really?" You asked, hope pitching your voice up with a crack and he nodded.

"Told ya." He said, brimming with confidence. But you heard the relief under it.

You flung yourself at him, arms squeezing tight around his neck and face buried in his dark jacket. He held you just as tight, nose in your hair as you sobbed with your own relief.

Pulling back, you sniffed and chuckled sheepishly at the dark spot on his jacket. "Ugh, sorry, you're kinda wet. Maybe a little snotty too."

"Gross," Satoru teased, grinning big and so handsome your heart fluttered for him. "Ijichi is gonna have a lot more dry-cleaning to do if we're adding snot to all the stuff coming out of you."

Your eyes rolled and your mouth opened to retort, but you were cut off with a jolt as you felt it.

Finally.

It was clear as day on your face and Satoru gasped.

"Awww! Baby's first prank!"

fanfic is my coping mechanism so I hope we aren't tired of the pregnant reader stuff bc I still got like 4 months to go hahhaaaa m. list | dividers by @/aesverse <33

hannii-space

I honestly believe that one of the most affectionate gestures Zanka would make would be to kiss your hand, as if you were a delicate flower. He would gently take it between his fingers and kiss it slowly as if he were afraid of breaking you, but at the same time with so much affection that it would even melt your heart.

Lowkey need to read Zanka beign such a gentleman, acting so fucking in love pleaseee😩

kkunai

𝜗℘ ˖ ࣪ . ˖˙ husband!gojo doesn’t play when it comes to expanding your little family :: cw. smut, brēeding & pregnancy themes.

“. . . you two make such cute babies.”

those are the words that have been driving satoru crazy. ever since this morning, after a little walk with your two children, he’s been waiting to get you alone. now that he finally does, he’s not letting go.

“been thinkin’ about this since the park,” your husband murmurs against your throat, his voice low and silky. “fuck—that old lady wasn’t wrong,” his hips roll once, deep, making your breath hitch, “we make the cutest fuckin’ babies, don’t we, sweets?”

you arch beneath him. your fingers dig into the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders, “y-yes—toru, nghh—“

satoru cuts you off with a slow and filthy grind, his fat cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you until your thighs tremble. “my mind’s been full with thoughts of it,” he confesses, glossy lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“carrying our little girl on my shoulders, her tiny hands in my hair… and then i look at you—” he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. his blue eyes glint even in the dark, pupils blown wide with want, “—and all i can think about is puttin’ another one in you.”

the words hit like a spark to dry grass. your sloppy pussy clenches around him instinctively. he groans and his forehead drops to yours in response.

“fuckk, you like that,” satoru shifts and hooks your legs higher over his hips so he can sink even deeper. “you want it again, don’t ya? want me to fill you up until it takes?”

“yes,” you gasp as your nails rake down his smooth back, “please!”

that’s all it takes.

satoru fucks you harder then—with long and punishing strokes that make the headboard tap the wall in quiet rhythm. one big hand slides between your bodies. slender fingers find your clit and circle with devastating precision. the other cradles the back of your head, keeping you locked against his gaze.

“look at me,” he demands softly with that charming grin of his, “watch me while i breed ya, baby.”

your orgasm builds fast. embarrassingly fast. your thighs shake as he keeps that same relentless pace. he’s everywhere—inside you, around you, whispering filthy promises against your lips.

“gonna give you a boy this time,” satoru pants with a muffled almost-whimepr, “or ‘nother girl. doesn’t matter. just—fuck—gonna keep ya pregnant.“

you shatter with a broken cry. your cunt flutters, milking him. satoru follows seconds later. his hips stutter as he buries himself to the hilt and comes with a shuddering groan. you feel him spilling in deep. so much it leaks out around his cock even as he stays pressed inside, grinding lazily to push every drop where it belongs.

satoru doesn’t pull out right away. instead he rolls you both so you’re draped across his chest, still connected, his arms caging you close. when you try to shift, he playfully nibbles on your ear and tightens his hold;

“aht, aht, we’re not done yet. gonna keep on tryin’ till i’m sure it’ll take.”

heartkaji

❥you & bakugo won’t say you’re dating, but there will be signs

BAKUSQUAD CASE FILES — CASE STUDY #1.

observed by — mina ashido

“y/n says she and bakugo aren’t dating. but i swear i caught them playing footsies during study hall.”

⟡

mina assumes it’s a trick of the light.

sero’s stalking hot moms on facebook. denki & kiri are trying to start a fire with a comically large magnifying glass. & when mina sees bakugo tickle your ankle with the toe of his sock, mina’s quick to assume the sight’s caused by the refractive index of light through the magnifying glass or whatever mumbo-jumbo they learned during last tuesday’s physics class.

but it happens again.

and this time you giggle.

and so mina has no choice but to accept magnifying glasses cannot bend sound.

mina puts on sero’s eyeglasses. they’re purely decorative, but she feels more intuitive regardless. she buries her nose between CGP’s A-Level biology guide & pretends she isn’t observing the way your eyes glint anytime you manage to nick katsuki in the shins.

bakugo’s face is stone still.

to the untrained eye, he’s simply solving calculus questions a mile a minute. but then he grunts.

mina doesn’t miss the way he grins when he nabs you in the thigh.

BAKUSQUAD CASE FILES — CASE STUDY #2.

observed by — sero hanta

‘bakugo swears y/n isn’t anyone special to him. so why the hell does he have her contact saved as ‘mine?’

hiyokosfavss

can we stop putting smut in fluff tags please💔💔 its so annoying

inkedinheat

you fall asleep during the movie, head on his shoulder. instead of waking you, he pulls a blanket over you and whispers happy valentine’s day like a secret meant only for you. — zanka

the movie keeps playing, but you don’t. somewhere between the quiet dialogue and the steady warmth at your side, sleep takes you without asking. your head tips gently, landing against zanka’s shoulder.

he freezes, because it’s rare that you let your guard down - even around him. one wrong move and he might break a vulnerable moment.

he glances down at you, breath slowing when he realizes you’re fully out. lashes resting against your cheeks, mouth parted a little, and most important — trust written all over your posture in a way that hits him harder than any fight ever has.

he could wake you. the movie’s still running, the room dim except for the glow of the screen. but instead, he reaches for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, and shifts to pull it around your shoulders. arms wrapped around you to keep you warm and comfortable. when you stir faintly, he stills completely, heart in his throat until your breathing evens out again.

“yeah,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than anything. “that figures.”

zanka’s never been good with quiet, soft moments like this. they sneak up on him. but sitting here, with your weight against him and your warmth seeping through the fabric of his clothes, something settles in his chest. something full of raw love.

he watches the movie without really seeing it. his attention keeps drifting back to you, and the way your fingers twitch every now and then. to the small sigh you let out, content, safe.

he leans his head closer, lowering his voice until it’s barely more than breath. “happy valentine’s day,” he whispers.

the words feel strange and intimate on his tongue - like a confession slipped into the dark. like something he’d never say out loud if you were awake and looking at him. you shift closer, forehead brushing his collarbone, and that’s enough. his jaw tightens, eyes flicking away as if embarrassed by how much it affects him. he stays like that until the movie ends and the screen goes dark, unwilling to move. unwilling to be the reason this moment stops. because right now, with you asleep against him, this feels like everything.

unintentionalseductress

Gachiakuta men react to you flashing them...

(more random HC's)

Enjin: whistles appreciatively and nods his head in approval. When you cover up your tits and walk away, he follows behind you like an oversized puppy begging to see them again, insisting he didn't get a good look the first time, using his best pouty face to convince you.

Zodyl: is surprised but not displeased. Although he can't understand why you're standing so far away. Come closer so that he can really look at those tits in all their glory, maybe with them hanging right in front of his face.

Gris is a thumbs-up kinda guy. They were pretty when he saw them earlier in the day as you got ready for work, and they're still pretty now. In fact, there's never a moment when they're not pretty to him, he still gets all warm and fuzzy inside whenever he sees them.

Tamsy: smirks when you do it, then sits almost cluelessly waiting for your next move. He knows you're trying to rile him up, but won't give you the satisfaction. When you get pissed off, he asks what you wanted to hear. Did you want nice compliments about your tits? All you had to do was ask.

kxsagi

zanka wearign maid outfit hcs when ??

“𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭”

a/n: thank you for giving me ideas for my gachiakuta masterlist girlie, you’re a life saver ❣️

the maid outfit alone was already his personal hell, but the moment enjin says, “nah, ya gotta commit,” zanka knows he’s cooked. like spiritually. mentally. irreversibly. he squints at him and goes, “commit to what,” and enjin just smiles. that’s when the dread sets in.

first task: the stupid little maid bow. you demonstrate it. overly exaggerated. cheerful. obnoxious. zanka just stares at you. “i’m not doin’ that.” full stop. arms crossed. jaw tight. except enjin goes, “do it and i’ll stop calling ya cute for the rest of the day.”

pause. long silence. teeth grinding so hard it’s a miracle they don’t shatter. then – the tiniest, angriest bow you’ve ever seen. barely bends at the waist. looks like he’s dodging an invisible attack. his face is red. he mutters, “happy now,” like he’s seconds away from committing a crime.

enjin claps. immediately. makes it worse.

then comes the verbal cringe. someone (definitely enjin) hands him a tray and tells him to greet you properly. like a maid café. zanka’s eye twitches so violently you think he might actually pass out. “say it,” riyo urges, way too amused. “just once.”

zanka inhales. exhales. visibly dissociates. then through clenched teeth, he goes: “irasshaimase (welcome).” deadpan. lifeless. zero soul. sounds like he’s announcing a funeral.

enjin squints. “ya gotta add ‘master’.” zanka loses five years off his lifespan.

he straight up refuses. threatens bodily harm. threatens to quit whatever this is. threatens to throw the tray at enjin’s head. but then enjin, absolute menace, goes, “c’mon. ya look kinda hot when yer mad.”

fatal hit.

zanka freezes. swallows. stares at the floor like it personally wronged him. then very quietly – so quietly it almost doesn’t count – he says, “… irasshaimase… master.” immediately turns away. will not make eye contact. ears burning. soul leaving his body.

you laugh. he glares. “don’t laugh!” he snaps, except it comes out way less threatening than he wants because he’s still in a maid outfit holding a tray like his life depends on it.

next humiliation: the heart thing with his hands. absolutely not. no chance. except remlin physically guides his wrists together just to show him, and zanka jerks away like he’s been electrocuted. “don’t touch me,” he growls, mortified. but after a moment… he does it himself. sloppy. crooked. looks like he’s strangling an invisible ghost.

august asks him to say “moe moe.”

zanka stares at him. silence. then: “i’m actually killin’ ya.”

he never actually says it, but he does compromise by aggressively tapping the table and muttering something that might be “moe” if you squint and believe hard enough. enjin accepts it like it’s the best thing he’s ever witnessed.

worst part? once enjin starts genuinely complimenting him – saying the outfit suits him, laughing like it’s fond instead of mocking – zanka stops fighting as hard. still grumpy. still embarrassed. but now when he’s told to carry things or serve drinks, he just sighs and does it.

by the end, he’s exhausted, sitting there in full maid getup, apron slightly crooked, glare dulled into a permanent scowl. if you tease him and ask if he had fun, he snaps back, “shut up.” then adds, quieter, “… don’t tell anyone about this.”

enjin absolutely will tell everyone. zanka knows this. and yet, yet, if enjin asks him to do one more stupid bow? he does it.

kxsagi

“𝐢 𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡… 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥”

a/n: oh how i love the gachiakuta fandom

for those wondering (because i was curious how this meme originated too), this reddit post explained that “in one of the translations, after zanka recovers from his 2nd fight with jabber, zanka says he's just too green, as in he's not experienced enough. but the fandom has run away with that line and now he is a green man.”

the hospital room smells like antiseptic and bad decisions.

zanka is sitting on the bed with his arms crossed, bandages peeking out from under his shirt, staring at the wall like it personally betrayed him. you’re standing there with a plastic bag of snacks and a look that says i left you alone for five minutes.

he doesn’t look at you when he speaks.

“i ain’t green enough,” he says quietly.

you freeze mid-step.

“… i’m sorry?”

he sighs, shoulders slumping. “that’s all.”

you slowly set the bag down. very carefully. like you’re dealing with something unpredictable.

“zanka,” you say, “are you having a moment or did you eat something weird before i got here.”

he finally looks at you, eyes dull with exhaustion, but still very much serious. painfully so.

“i messed up,” he says. “thought i knew better. turns out i didn’t.” his fingers curl into the sheets. “i’m not green enough.”

there’s a beat.

then another.

and then you snort.

like, full-on, can’t-hold-it-back snort.

his head snaps up. “why are ya laughing.”

“i–” you try to stop. you fail. “i’m sorry. i just– are you calling yourself… unripe?”

his scowl is immediate. “that’s not what i mean.”

“because it sounds like you’re saying you need more sunlight for your chlorophyll. do you wanna go photosynthesize about it?”

“i’m saying i lack experience,” he snaps, then pauses. “… wait. what did it sound like.”

you grin. evil. “you, on a hospital bed, sadly announcing you’re not green enough. like a rejected vegetable.”

“… don’t.”

“like you tried to get into a salad, but they said no.”

he groans and drops back against the pillows. “i hate you.”

“no you don’t.”

“… no,” he admits. “i don’t.”

the silence that follows is softer now. less sharp around the edges. zanka stares up at the ceiling, jaw tight, like the joke didn’t erase what he’s feeling, just made it easier to breathe around it.

“i really thought i could handle it,” he says after a while. quieter. honest. “everyone keeps acting like i’ve got it together. like i know what i’m doing.” he lets out a small, bitter laugh. “guess i’m still green.”

you stand up, move closer, and gently flick his forehead.

“ow! the hell was that for?!”

“for thinking losing once defines you.”

he blinks at you. “that wasn’t gentle.”

“neither is fighting monsters and human enemies in a trash hellscape, but you still do it.”

he huffs a laugh despite himself, a win on its own.

you step closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. your knee bumps his, and he doesn’t move away.

“you know green doesn’t mean bad, right.”

he hums. unconvinced.

“it just means you haven’t been doing this forever,” you continue. “means you’re still young. learning. trying. dumb enough to care.”

he glances at you. “… dumb?”

“affectionately,” you say. “very affectionately.”

his mouth twitches despite himself.

“everyone who’s actually good at something was green once,” you add. “anyone who says otherwise is lying or terrifying.”

zanka exhales, tension leaking out of him little by little. “so i’m not hopeless.”

“absolutely not.”

“… just undercooked.”

“ZANKA.”

he laughs then. quiet, breathy, real. the kind that only slips out when he’s too tired to guard it.

“guess i’ll grow into it,” he says.

you nudge his shoulder. “yeah. just… maybe don’t nearly die for character development next time.”

he smirks. “i’ll try not to. for ya.”

but when you reach out and lace your fingers with his, he squeezes back – grounded, warm, very much alive.

still green, maybe.

but growing.

dreamdragonkadia

we have to have a talk, chat, this man is a man among men.

Oh, to be loved by Shouta Aizawa.

A man who the author himself described as “actually kind of doting,” even if he’d rather be caught dead than admit it out loud. A man whose love starts long before he ever names it. It’s silent, insidious, settling into his bones without permission. He notices first. Always does. Your routines, the way your voice changes when you’re tired, the exact look on your face when you’re pretending you’re fine. His brain clocks it before his heart catches up, files it away as important long before he understands why.

shigarosie

hiii just wanted to say i love the way you write aizawa💔💔

would you maybe be interested in writing about him again? literally anything

The way this has been sitting in my drafts partially finished for a year and a half... Girl I'm so sorry sjdhjhdhdg

"We should consider getting married for the tax benefits."

You sit up, abandoning your magazine and staring across the couch to where Shota sat on the other end, tapping away at his clunky, old laptop. "I'm sorry?"

"The tax benefits- married couples file jointly which means-"

"No, I know about joint filing," you say, pulling your legs to your chest. "That's how you're proposing to me?"

In the three and a half years you've been together, you don't think you've ever seen Shota look scared. To his credit, it's subtle. Frozen features aside from his eyes widening to saucers. The man was too stunned to speak, it seemed.

"I mean, I know we've always been pretty casual about milestones," you say as you stand, grabbing your wine glass from the coffee table and heading to the kitchen for a much needed refill. "You never really asked me to be your girlfriend," you continue as you pour, "I gradually moved in to your place over a matter of months, but-" you set the wine bottle down just a little heavier than you meant to. "For taxes? You're saying you want to marry me for taxes? I mean, don't I at least deserve a ring?"

Shota closed his laptop slowly, slipping your fluffy blanket off his legs, and trudged off into the bedroom without a word. Your blood started to bubble, on the verge of boiling, and you took a hefty gulp of wine. When Shota emerged from the bedroom again he had the decency to look apologetic.

And then he puts a little black box on the counter.

Your jaw grinds a little. "What's this?"

Sure enough, when he opens the box there's a ring inside. The perfect ring, actually. You didn't think he'd really paid attention in the past when you made little comments about what you did or didn't like in an engagement ring, what metal, what stone, what shape- but it was all correct.

"I wasn't-" he sighs heavily, running a hand over his face before he folds in on himself and hunches over the counter. "That wasn't the proposal. The proposal was going to be something nice. Something with a nice dinner and a stroll through the botanical gardens, or breakfast in bed on a trip to the countryside. This was supposed to be the conversation to make sure we were on the same page."

You took a deep breath. "Of course we're on the same page. Do you think we'd still be together after all this time if I didn't want to marry you?"

"I didn't want to think, I wanted to know. In your words." He raises up again, taking your left hand in both of his. His thumbs ran over your bare knuckles gently, a sense of hesitancy in his touch.

"Well you definitely weren't thinking, that's for sure," you mumble, trying to ease the tension.

"Clearly I wasn't."

You purse your lips. "The botanical gardens?" You ask.

"You said a few months ago that you always mean to go but never do."

The corners of your mouth lift a little. "Breakfast? In the countryside?"

"You love breakfast foods," he answers. "And those cows with the long hair-"

"Highland cows," you correct.

"Highland cows," he repeats. "You're always showing me videos of them."

Any bubbling, boiling anger has evaporated. Maybe you should have heard him out just a little before jumping to conclusions.

"It's a beautiful ring," you comment.

"It's custom," he tells you. "Do you want to put it on?"

"I don't know..." you sigh, "... I like the sound of that whole garden walk and countryside breakfast stuff."

"How about this," he says, plucking the ring out of the box with one hand while the other cradles your fingers so delicately. "You wear this now, and we'll do those things to celebrate the engagement. And I'll buy you some jewelry to match your new ring to give you then. That sound alright to you?"

You smile and nudge the ring with the appropriate finger, urging him to slide it on.

"You can pay for it with the money we'll save on taxes."

He sighs in that familiar exhausted fondness you've grown used to over the years.

"I'll never live this down, will I?"

You lean in and kiss him firmly. "Til death do we part, my love."

ryoride

I want you to touch me ★ shota aizawa

✮ Husband!aizawa, fem!reader, fluff, men who yearn, physical affection, lover man

✮ synopsis: Aizawa with an affectionate wife

When he's gotten to the point of marriage, nothing will surprise him anymore. He's been in love with you for years, getting used to your little quirks and ways you show affection. + the honorable mention of Hizashi being an affectionate friend in their teens.

So the moment he feels your arms wrapping around him, or you lying on him, he's locked into affectionate husband mode, no matter what he was doing. Grading papers? Eating? Watching TV? None of that matters when he has you.

Affection comes to him so easily when it comes to you; he's just happy to have you there. Peppering your temple with kisses, holding your hand, anything you like, he likes.

In the privacy of your home, he's all over you, cooking dinner together: he stands behind you, rubbing your waist with one hand and helping with ingredients in the other as you discuss the mundane.

Showering together is just about his favorite time of day, getting to take in the steam and the sight of you under the water. The moment you try to start washing his back, he knows you're both done for.

He likes cuddling more as an adult than he did as a teen, somehow, curling up together on the couch, in his sleeping bag, or in bed. He's cuddled you on the bathroom floor, hungover, before.

He likes it when you curl up beside him on the couch and rest your head in his lap. He doesn't quite know why, but the moment you just get comfortable on him, his hand brushes your temple, whispering sweet nothings.

lazy days are like the second coming of your honeymoon, where you're both barely dressed, just spending the limited hours you get to be lazy & comfortable all over you. In any way he can get

whenever he's had a rough patrol, he likes to just lie in the bed beside you and watch you breathe—it might be a little creepy, but it reminds him of the good in the world he's trying desperately to protect.

Calm, small, lingering kisses over your skin. It could be your ankle; if it's within reach of his lips, he will attempt to kiss it.

You're allowed to braid his hair, especially since he keeps it longer than he did as a teenager, but if you & Eri bust out the butterfly clips, he will try to shield himself.

As a husband, he still loves carrying around his wife; he even finds more joy in it than he did as a teen, because there are so many sweet memories just woven into the action, it's like second nature.

vavelvet

18+ | dry humping, spitting, choking & hair pulling w/ sub!jabber x dom!fem!reader

gasping for air, you stare at the raider in front of you. he, on the other hand, grins unnaturally wide, almost creepily. sweat glistens along your temple—you really should have avoided this part of the trashed city.

giggling, the madman jumps up and down in front of you, his dark locks following his fidgety movements.

“this is so fun, come on, hit me again!”

what the hell is wrong with him?

you frown, tighten your grip on your jinki and run towards him, ready to attack. “freak,” you spit at him.

he groans in response, bites his lip and giggles again.

“yeah, just like that. don't stop, pretty.”

a few steps away, you toss your jinki aside. his eyes widen, baffled.

“are you giving up already? you're no fun—”

the taunt dies on his lips as the jinki snaps back to life, coiling around his legs and yanking him hard to the ground. in a blink, you’re on top of him, wrenching the weapon free and pressing it tight against his throat.

“game over.”

his confusion twists into an even broader grin, sharp and delighted. you could swear his pink eyes shine brighter than before. “sorry, ma, but i can’t let you go yet,” he drawls, extending his left claw with unmistakable intent.

your eyes widen. reflex sends you stumbling backward, the slash cutting through empty air where you stood a heartbeat ago.

kxsagi

u know the classic line “would u still love me if I was a work” ZANKA WOULD CALL ON THE CHOKER TO ASK IF U,S/OWE (IDC) WOULD KISS HIM AFTER RUDO SLUNG u know what ON HIM

My friend told me that AND I WAS CRYING AND HAD TO SHARE IT WITH YOU

“𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧”

a/n: OMG YESSSSS THIS IS SO PEAK I HAD TO WRITE ABOUT IT 😭😭😭

it happens so fast that it doesn’t even register as humiliation at first – just shock.

one second, zanka is mid-running, lovely assistaff in hand, blood choker warm against his throat as he barks at rudo to stop swinging that stupid plunger around like it’s a divine weapon. the next second–

schlop.

something warm. something wet. something that should NOT be airborne.

the world freezes.

zanka blinks once. twice. the smell hits.

“… rudo.”

rudo, panting, eyes wide, looks down at the plunger in his hands. then back at zanka. then back at the plunger.

“… oh.”

silence. the kind that rings in your ears.

zanka slowly raises a hand and touches his cheek. pulls his fingers back. stares.

brown.

his soul leaves his body.

rkivesato

enjin secretly adores you

pairings. enjin x fem!reader content. sfw language. english warnings. none

enjin liked to tease.

he’d poke you on the cheek while discussing plans for a mission. pinch you on your side where you’re ticklish. hide your things in places you can’t reach, just to get a reaction out of you.

it would get on your nerves, that’s for sure. and when that happened, all it took was one look for him to stop.

suddenly, his teases would turn into clumsy compliments.

he’d comment on your hair—how beautifully the new color suited you. then your clothes—how badass you look in them, as he likes to say. and if he was really trying, he’d sometimes call you ineffable.

it made you wonder how he even knew the word. “do you even know what that means?”

“sure.” he smirked, confidence and all. “indescribable.”

what enjin liked more, though, was spending time with you.

it’s true.

it wasn’t something you’d notice, but he’d purposely go on missions with you even on his day off. at the cafeteria, he’d intentionally match your pace—even when you ate painfully slow for his liking.

he adorned every single thing about you.

sometimes, it would scare him that his feelings for you would become too much. too much for his heart to handle, too much for you to accept.

but fuck—enjin just couldn’t help it.

you were the most wonderful thing in his world.

it was a shame he couldn’t tell you. not yet, at the very least. not now, when he needed to sort himself out.

“one day, i’ll tell her.” he kept telling himself as he waited for you by the car.

having overheard him, you asked, “tell who what?”

enjin jumped from his once relaxed frame. the poor guy stared at you, wide-eyed and completely at a loss for what to say.

he wondered how long you’d been standing there.

you wondered what stupid thing he’s done this time, fully convinced enjin was just figuring out a way to admit that he’d broken another vase of yours.

that i love you, enjin thought to himself.

then he broke a sheepish smile, “that i broke your vase… again.”

he settled for the lie. only when you rolled your eyes and pinched his ears was he able to breathe again.

enjin showered you with countless apologies as he laughed uncontrollably.

he decided then that loving you, quietly or not, wasn’t something he could escape.

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