「BNHA Boys And Their Favorite Kinds Of Dates」

Touches

Featuring: Xiao, Albedo, Gorou, Aether, Scaramouche, Kazuha x GN!Reader (separate)

Content Warning: none, v fluffy

How is physical affection with them?

Authors Note: I realize that this is similar to my other post, “Softly”, think of this as an “add on” but with more characters.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

Xiao’s a bit reluctant, seeing himself as a weapon, simple touches are foreign to him. But when you cup his cheeks, or press your lips to his forehead, or even rub your thumb against his bloodstained knuckles- it is hard to resist, especially yours.

So he reaches out, careful to not accidentally scare you or worse- hurt you. He lets himself rest against your body, hiding his face in your neck. He finds himself longing for your kisses, silently asking you by pressing his own against your lips. He found that his hands hold more than just the blood of his enemies, but your heart as well. He now understands why mortals- lovers- cannot get enough of each other.

-

Albedo had been stuck in thought, only one occupying his mind. He had wondered why he only thought of you: your hands holding onto his when excited, or when you lean your head against his shoulder when you feel tiredness. Not only that, but why he had a sudden craving for it.

It started with subtle touches: fingers tracing the features of your face, his own hands guiding yours when helping him with experiments, small forehead kisses when greeting you. However, he felt as if it wasn’t enough. It was only when you were around that he felt his thoughts calm, when he was able to hold you, keeping him grounded.

-

General Gorou felt appreciated when you didn’t ask about touching his ears and tail, only giving glances every once in a while. Though it soon turned into worry; did you not like those features about him, or did you know about his apprehensiveness due to his past encounters with nosy soldiers?

Those worries went away very soon after when you did start asking, not just to pet them but how it felt to have them. It made him happy that you had a genuine curiosity towards it, giving you full permission to touch them when in private with him. Even then, he felt the need to sometimes shove his face into yours, needing to have your fingers brush out the knots accumulated in his fur, or so he said.

-

Aether was happy that you were just as touchy as he was. He was happy that you let him hold your hand when walking, giving you light kisses on your cheeks when he said his ‘good mornings’ and ‘good nights’, hold you tight against him when he felt as if the whole world was against him.

He found you to be his anchor, his rock, the one person whom he felt comfortable enough to let them hold him the same way he would a lover. The way you hold him to you, letting your fingers weave through his hair and whispering quietly to him, it almost was surreal. He would hide his overwhelming joy in your neck, placing small kisses there as well.

-

Scaramouche, the man who shed tears in his sleep, was only comforted by the one he called his true love. A private man he was, only showing an ounce of attention towards you out of public eye, but would make it obvious to anyone else if need be.

Thumbs drying his tears, bringing his ear to the only other heart he needed, he would hold on to his lover like his life depended on it. He would sometimes question your willingness to be with him, but when you kissed his forehead and didn’t bring up his sleepless tears, he understood that there would be no one else like you. He vowed only to protect you from the cruelty of the world.

-

Kazuha’s touches were as light as his words, they would hold just as much meaning. His haikus and poems would depict the most beautiful of sceneries, however, his lips against your face and his hands holding your own would leave you wondering if they were actually about you.

Drunken nights were a rarity, a light buzz would leave you both to ignore the outside world while you bask in each other’s presence. His head would be placed under yours while his fingers traced random patterns against your soft skin. You, on the other hand, would be fixated on his hair, as soft as his words. Delicate whispers of love surround the space you both share.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

SAYING SOMETHING OUT LOUD. multi

it's been on my mind quite a while. ( or, genshin characters + accidental confessions when they think you don't hear them.)

ft. diluc, kaeya, albedo, childe, xiao, kazuha x genderneutral reader

warnings : fluff, slight angst, blushy blushy, me bullying kazuha but its affectionate !1! i wrote this at 2 am editing tomorrow :]

DILUC RAGNVINDR. noctua

"i want to marry you someday." are the words he mutters when all he can do is stare at you, when he thinks you aren't looking. where diluc ragnvindr's entire mind goes blank — not a thought behind those pretty, red eyes besides 'oh god oh fuck' when you eventually catch him. diluc doesn't want you to know about all the ugly sides of him, about how rough he is around the edges. he doesn't want you to get caught up with him—he can't let the fire burn you like it has burnt everything else in his life.

he coughs, and refuses to acknowledge it ever happened despite your countless jabs to get him to say something—to say anything. it's quiet and diluc wants so badly to pretend it never happened, to pretend he never said anything because he doesn't want to ruin it—to lose you too. you huff slightly in frustration, and diluc resists the urge to laugh despite the situation he's put himself in. it's strange how you can make him smile even when it feels his mind is crumbling.

the silence settles and diluc can feel the anxiety ripple through his body as he steals a glance in your direction. just as he can get ready to apologize, your finger pulls his hand into yours. "we don't—we don't need to get married now, but in the future ... will you marry me?"

KAEYA ALBERICH. pavo ocellus

"i don't know if i love you yet, but if this isn't love then i don't know what is." are the words he whispers into your hair, on nights where he thinks you're asleep. where kaeya alberich is at the breaking point, teetering on the line between loving you and keeping you out.

on nights where all he wants is to say i love you without the fear of you understanding. the fear of you loving him because how can you love someone you don't really know? how can you love him if even he doesn't know who he is? you're a breath of relief to him and kaeya wants nothing more than to be able to breathe without guilt. his fingers rake through your hair, and kaeya knows—he knows he doesn't deserve to have you in his arms like this, but he can't help but be selfish when it comes to you.

you turn your head, your face only inches away from his, before kissing the tip of his nose and holding him tighter. it's there that kaeya finally let's himself close his eyes. there's so much you want to say, but for now, it'll have to wait till morning, when he can be completely sure you know what you're saying when you say you love him.

ALBEDO. princeps cretaceous

"you're my muse." are the words he replies with, nonchalantly when you ask why you have to sit still, instead of working like jean had told you to. on the days where he finds himself unconsciously writing your name in his notes, sketching your face in the margins. albedo doesn't even realize he's said it, he doesn't realize how the words affect you until he looks up from his sketch book to find you staring at him in surprise.

albedo doesn't understand love, he hasn't even fully grasped the idea of it, but it's obvious to everyone with the subtle reminders to take care of yourself because albedo doesn't know how to express his feelings any other way. "is something wrong?" he asks, concern laced into his tone before you shake your head, a smile growing on your face. "muse? did you mean that?" and his mind blanks, before the realization hits him.

"ah i didn't—well, i did mean that, but it doesn't need to mean anything if you don't want it to." he says in a panic, even if it's not obvious to most. his voice trails off before he finally exhales. you laugh, crouching infront of his sitting figure before pushing the bangs out of his face. his gaze remains focused on you the entire time, an eyebrow raised. his eyes widen, before muttering a quick "oh." against your lips. albedo doesn't understand love, but he thinks he can try if it's for you.

CHILDE. monoceros caeli

"i don't care about the fatui—about work, about my reputation, just—tell me to stay, tell me to come home and ill come home as long as it's you." are the words he whispers the night before he has to leave, again. childe knows he has to—it's his job, his responsibility as a harbinger, but when he sees his family, when he sees you, he can't help but feel like throwing it all away.

on nights where he can't let you go, his siblings having to physically pry him off to eat breakfast, on nights where he thinks if he doesn't hold you now he won't remember what your hugs feel like. childe doesn't cry—he doesn't want to cry in front of you, in front of his siblings because he's supposed to be strong, but he can't stop it when you make him weak.

he buries his face into your neck, promising to give you anything, despite him being the only thing you want. childe interlocks your pinkies, he promises a future. one where he won't have to worry about not being there to kiss you goodnight, but for now, you can only whisper your declarations of love till the brink of dawn. "i promise, ill be here when you come back, ajax."

XIAO. alatus nemeseos

"till the day i die—im not going anywhere, not without you." in response to a question you'd asked him earlier that day, one he was too afraid to answer. "are you leaving?" you asked, rubbing the tiredness from you eyes, strands of hair sticking out as you watch him from the bed. he knows—xiao knows that's not what you meant, not in that context, but the question struck enough fear in his heart that he had left without warning.

you lie asleep on his shoulder and xiao wonders if he ever really will leave. if one day the guilt that scratches at his throat whenever he says your name will be the last sign needed to push you away, for your own good. the sun is warm on your skin, and xiao hopes that somewhere in the depths of your mind, you'll hear the words he's too scared to say while you're awake.

xiao doesn't make promises, because he knows that there's always a possibility he wouldn't be able to keep them, but as the sun falls on your figure, xiao can't help himself. he never can when it comes to you. "you've stayed ... you've stayed this long, no going back, okay?" he sighs, and xiao can only hope you'll let him stay with you as long as he can. you hand finds it's way into his, interlocking them as you absentmindedly trace shapes into his knuckles. "no going back." you mumble into his shoulder before going back to sleep, and xiao freezes in shock, before slowly holding your hand tighter, tapping 3 times on the back of your hand. a silent 'i love you.'

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA. acer palmatum

"you're everything. everything compared to whatever this world has to offer." are the words he says when you ask how his travels went. kazuha has never been able to stay in one spot for too long, be it because of the price on his head but because he's always been homesick for places he's never known, for places he's never been to. he's traveled so much, yet he's never been truly at home anywhere, because every time he says he's homesick, he really just misses you. kazuha would bring you with him if he could, because atleast that way he'd always be home with you.

kazuha plants kisses into your shoulder, trapping you in his arms the second he gets home. early in the morning when you've barely gotten ready for the day, adrenaline coursing through him because he's finally home in your arms. kazuha talks about the places he's been, wishing he'd brought a kamera so he could show you everything he saw, everything that reminded him of you while he was away. he talks about the people he met—stories that sound so bizarre you have to poke his cheek and ask if he's exaggerating.

"huh, they really .. don't come close to being here with you." kazuha chuckles. he talks like he's in a daze when he looks at you, and it's probably because he is. "you're everything. everything compared to whatever this world has to offer" he whispers, before laughing in an attempt to distract you from the blush on his cheeks and the things he just said. "wait what did you say? i couldn't hear you." you ask incredulously, while he only smiles, planting soft kisses on your neck. "nothing, nothing."

you roll yours eyes, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. "for the record, you're my everything too."

© scaramew — do not repost, translate, copy, etc.

haha I wrote Todoroki x reader fanfiction

Summary: You call Todoroki to ask him out on a date and it completely catches him off guard! He doesn’t know what to think of your feelings but luckily his friends are there to give him some encouragement.

—————————————————

Todoroki fished his phone out from his pocket when he felt it vibrating. He didn’t usually get calls this late unless it was from his father, so he was surprised to see it was you who was calling him. Was something wrong? You had never called him before.

Excusing himself from the table, he stepped a few feet away, ignoring the questions and stares from his friends. Surely you had to be calling for a reason. He hasn’t known you for very long, but you didn’t seem like the type of person to call for no reason.

He pressed the green answer button.

“Hello?”

“Ah Todoroki? It’s y/n. Are you busy right now? I have a question for you”. You sounded fine. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary, although you did sound a bit rushed. Whatever it was must have been important. He wondered if there was something urgent you needed him for, like a patrol call that went wrong.

During your work-study together, you always took things head-on. Any challenge Endeavor threw your way, you embraced, even if you didn’t succeed the first time. It was something he found admirable. So this strange change in behavior worried him.

“No, I’m not busy. Is something wrong?” He asked.

“Oh, no!” You paused for a moment, “well, I was just wondering if you wanted to come…do something with me on one of your days off. That is if you aren’t busy.”

Do something? You must mean for all of you at the Endeavor agency to “do something”. You, him, Bakugo, and Midoriya almost always stayed late after Endeavor had finished with work for the day. Usually, it resulted in a late-night convenience store run or stretching together, but you all had fun. You could be found laughing and talking together while on patrol or doing exercises. It was nice to have another friend.

“I'm not doing anything but I would have to ask Bakugo and Midoriya their schedules. I can give you their numbers if you want or I can ask them for you.” Shoto responded.

“No, that’s it’s okay. I really meant you and me. You know, like a date…let’s go on a date.” You said. There was no hesitation in your voice. It sent a shock to his system. He was under the impression that there would be some shyness, like what he had seen when watching movies with his classmates. Yet, there was no embarrassment at being left to explain your feelings so plainly because he couldn’t figure it out.

Shoto could feel his face heating, the one cheek more so than the other, but each side was warm nonetheless.

oh…Oh!….

By “do something” you had meant do something with him- just him!

“Ummm…I- umm….” Why couldn’t he say anything! All he had to do was give you an answer and yet it felt like he had both too many thoughts in his head and none at all. He took the phone and shifted it to his other ear, trying to buy himself just a few more moments. “I will have to make sure I have nothing else going on.” Shoto wasn’t sure what he was saying. It felt like his mouth was moving all on its own.

Why did he feel like this? Why did he feel so…he couldn’t even put a word to it. Being at such a loss for words, made him nervous.

He looked over his shoulder at his friends. For what reason, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like any of them could help. None of them knew what was going on, but maybe it would jog some sort of coherent thought. Or maybe one of them would notice and come help him think of what to say so he wouldn’t have to stand here lost in thought.

Suddenly, Shoto snapped his head forward when he heard you sigh. Even over the phone, he could sense your bittersweet tone. Honestly, he couldn’t tell if you were upset or not.

“I can text you what time I’m free.” He blurted out. The thought of you being disappointed in his previous response stirred something in him. He didn’t even mean to say that.

You hummed in response. “Just let me know I suppose. I’m free all day tomorrow so you can just text or call me when you wake up.”

Shoto nodded, then told you he would make sure to let you know when he realized you couldn’t see him.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Have a Goodnight.”

“Yes. You as well” As he pressed the ‘end call’ button, he felt a rush of emotions hit him.

He had never thought someone could be interested in him, but now he has a date.

Originally, the whole point of coming to U.A, of interning with his own father, was just to become strong enough to be number one. There was no need for friends or love interests. But suddenly that all changed, with just one phone call! It was so overwhelming to the point where it felt like he had visible heat coming off his cheek.

As Shoto went back to his seat, he decided he would need to give the whole situation some serious thought. His internal monologue was interrupted though.

“So who called you? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” Midoriya asked between bites of food, smiling the whole time.

“It was y/n.”

“Oh? It’s not like her to call. What did she want to talk to you about?” Midoriya finished with his food, putting the utensils across his bowl.

“Probably her shitty anime again. She’s been on about it for weeks” Bakugo scoffed, eyeing his teammates from across the table. “I don’t understand how you two listen to her yammer on about that crap! It’s not even that good” he whips his head around to Kirishima as the boy to his left scolds him for an ‘unmanly’ attitude.

“Lighten up dude, isn’t she your friend? Deku says you guys hang out after your work-study all the time. I’m kinda jealous. I wish I had a hottie at my work-study, all I get is useless Mineta…” Kaminari’s attitude suddenly sours at the thought of working with dumb stupid Mineta. “Seriously, he totally sucks. Anyways, back to the real conversation, we should be having, what’s a girl calling Todoroki for?” Kaminari points his finger at Shoto, grinning from ear to ear.

They all look towards him. He can feel his mind drawing a blank again. This feels so embarrassing but he can’t exactly explain why. Maybe he’s imagining it. Or maybe it’s because he isn’t really sure why you called. It was to ask him on a date, but he doesn’t understand why you would want to go on a date in the first place.

“She asked me on a date.” Shoto tries to respond with an even tone. He doesn’t want to let on just how unsure he really is. Not yet at least.

There’s a heavy silence between the five of them for a few moments.

There’s too many “a date?” “Who wants to go on a shitty date with you” “Dude how?” “What? You mean- how” for him to process how to respond. So he settles for, “She just asked to do something. Why is that so shocking?”

It’s Kaminari that takes the lead in interrogating him. “She just called and asked you?”

Todoroki nodded.

“Just straight up Said “hey Todoroki let’s go on a date.’ On a Friday night. No confession after patrol. No weird love note. Nothing.”

“Yes. That’s basically what happened”

Kaminari sat there for a few moments, staring dumbfounded. “…that’s so hot.”

“Dude! Don’t say stuff like that! It’s weird when we don’t even know her.” Kirishima shoved Kamimari’s shoulder as he spoke. However, they could all see the flush on his cheeks.

A woman who was so willing to put her heart on the line, willing to be blunt yet vulnerable, it was so manly but in a feminine way. It nearly drove Kirishima to tears.

“Oh so I can’t call her hot but Kirishima can say all this weird Shakespeare stuff-“

“Would you two shut up?! You both sound stupid!” Bakugo barked at them. He huffed and pushed his plate away from himself. “It’s not like she confessed her undying love or something. She just asked him out on a date. Y/ns has always been pretty blunt. “

“Kacchan’s right” Midoriya spoke up [shoto can hear a faint ‘don’t fucking call me that’ somewhere in the background]. “She really is blunt. Not in a mean way though!” He was quick to qualify his statement, not wanting to sound offensive or mischaracterize her. “I mean- it’s a nice change of pace sometimes. She’s pretty open when you ask her about how she thinks or feels, so I’m not really surprised. Did you not know how she felt Todoroki?” Midoriya moved in his chair as he spoke, almost fully facing him now. He was just so excited for his friend.

“It’s kinda fitting isn’t it?”

“What do you mean, Midoriya?” Shoto asked curiosity peaked by the dreamy look on his face.

“Well, the both of you are similar in some aspects. It’s funny, isn’t it? You’ve already got similar quirks, so it makes sense you would work well together. But then you’ve got similar personality traits also. You’re both straightforward- Todoroki more than y/n- hardworking, kind, although y/n tends to be more extroverted than you maybe that would only enhance your personalities more-“

“God damn Deku, you wanna be more creepy or what?” Bakugo sneers. “You’re gross when you do that kind of shit.”

Shoto smiled to himself, laughing a little as Midoriya’s face went bright, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Bakugo had a way of calling him out. Even if it wasn’t always nice, it was funny to watch sometimes.

“I’m just saying! We should all be happy for our friend! Y/n is a nice girl and they could be a really good couple” Midoriya looked to all of them, silently pleading that they would be supportive and not weird. A few of them slowly nod in agreement.

“Yeah” Kaminari leans in towards the middle of their group, reaching over Kirishima so everyone could hear him despite his hushed tone, “plus she’s hot. I saw that photo spread she did with Miruko over summer break. Damn what a bo-“

He freezes mid-thought as the four of them send him dirty looks.

“You never stop do you?”

“You’re being as bad as Mineta right now”

“Come on Kaminari have some tact”

Shoto sighs. He appreciated his friends trying to help but he still felt strange about the whole situation.

“What should I tell her? I said I would let her know if I was busy.” He interrupts their commotion, asking for their advice on what to do.

“So you didn’t say yes?” Kirishima raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to go?”

The question catches Shoto off guard. How was he supposed to know if he wanted to go on a date or not?

“I’m not sure.”

“Well do you like her?” Bakugo interjects.

“Yes.”

“Do you like her enough to go do stupid shit with her? Like see a movie or, I don’t know what’s something gross girls like…go to dinner?”

[“Bakugo, everyone goes to dinner” “fuck off it’s different when girls want you to go. You have to like…try”]

Shoto looks down at his hands in his laps. He does like you. You’re very kind to him. You’re very supportive of his training and always encourage him to be better. But you don’t just praise him because he’s the son of Endeavor or a top student from U.A., there’s a genuine connection that comes from your time working together. And you both have some things you can talk about, like hobbies and interests. Unlike Bakugo, he doesn’t mind listening to you talk about shows or books you like. It’s fun to watch you be passionate. So…maybe going to a movie wouldn’t be so bad.

“Yes. I think so. I suppose…I’ll give her a callback tomorrow then.”

HAIKYUU & WHAT THEIR FAVORITE PART OF YOUR BODY IS

+ a/n : i can't get myself to write a fucking proper fic :| but ig y'all like these lmao so here you go <3 + this is sfw !

⸗ your hands

he loves how they fit perfectly in his; soft against his calloused skin, your fingers intertwining with his effortlessly—it's as if they were meant for him to hold (and no, he gives no shits about clammy hands- if he wants to hold them, he will).

—osamu, hinata, oikawa, inouka, sugawara, kindaichi, aone, reon, makki

⸗ your cheeks

he can't help but squish them—hands automatically going to your face every two seconds to place themselves on your cheeks, giving them a light squeeze—maybe sometimes it's just to annoy you. (look, the pout on your face is so worth it).

—mattsun, kuroo, kageyama, konoha, tendou, suna, meian, sugawara

⸗ your waist

this one's a bit obvious- you're his; and he demonstrates it by pulling you close to him. his arm's often secured firmly around your waist as he pushes your face into his warm body, fingers tightening to give you a little pinch (especially when he's feeling a bit possessive).

—iwaizumi, kyōtani, daichi, sakusa, atsumu, ukai jr., mattsun, kageyama

⸗ your thighs/chest

of course they're his favorite part of your body, he could sleep on them all day. but he wouldn't blame himself, no, he blames the inviting warmth of your skin, how you make for the perfect pillow. who needs memory foam when he has you?

—suna, bokuto, akaashi, kenma, nishinoya, kunimi, osamu, iwaizumi

reblogs appreciated <3

yeolmu__

[🌸] Genshin Boys Reacting To You Smothering Them With Affection <333

Diluc

The first time you do it, it catches him conpletely of guard. The blush on his face was evident of that. Kinda likes your kisses and hopes you do it again. Just not in public though. He has a reputation to uphold and he hopes you respect that, But when the both of you are alone it’s a completely different story. Withing the walls of his manor, he turns putty in your loving arms, he is your baby and demands attention, but keep in mind, its only when the two of you are alone.

Kaeya

Instant ego boost. Not even kidding smh. Be aware though, cause once you do it, he will demand affection every second of the day, starting as soon as you wake up. He doesn’t care if people are watching, he will do it public too. Now the angsty part. I believe Kaeya is very touch starved since his father left him in mondstaldt when he was just a child and the incident with Diluc only made it worse, so he is very grateful to have a lover like you, who he can rely on for a gentle feeling of fondness.

Venti

Instant ego boost part 2. Litreally clings onto you like a leach. Wouldn’t let go untill you give him some kisses. Again, doesn’t matter if you are in public. You both are drinking in the tavern? he needs a hug. You both are cassually sitting on a bench near the cathedral? He demands a kiss. People passing by give you both disgusting looks but again, he doen’t care. After venti lost his friend, the nameless bard, he didn’t think he had ever felt this way. The warm fuzzy feeling your tenderness gives him, makes him feel like he is on cloud 9 and somehow he just cannot let it go.

Sleeping with the Villains

Request: My request idea that popped in my head was I haven’t seen a story of shigaraki’s or dabi’s impression of them sleeping nude/naked with their S/O. I was wondering what their thoughts would be? I wouldn’t mind it if it was both sfw and nsfw:)🤸‍♀️

It can either be headcanoan or a fic. you can choose which one suits best for you to compose. 💕 💕 💕

Word Count: 1.5K each

A/N: I went for a more sfw vibe(‾◡◝)

-

Dabi:

His skin is rough, calloused and burned, and even if he is clean, the scent of ash overtakes that of milk and honey. Dabi is scarred, his body in deep purple patches that are pieced together with staples and on a good day, he can ignore the the pain, can push past it and focus on how soft your hand is compared to his, he can focus on you, rather than the way that that his clothes catches over his skin and pulls on the grooves and the burns. On the harder days, he has to push himself out of bed before you can wake. He has to bite down on the pain that screams for him to collapse, and he’ll swallow pain medication and drink the pain away before you can wake. He is a man ready to explode at any given minute, and he will refuse to do that in front of you.

He wears a loose fitting shirt and sweats that makes it unbearably hot and when he walks into the bedroom that he shares with you, you’re undressed. He grins at you and even if his skin does ache, he can’t deny you, and he can’t deny himself. If you want him now, he’ll give himself to you in a painful and horrible way to keep you by his side.

“I didn’t realize we were going to fuck tonight,” he says, a thin smile on his lips as he sits beside you on the bed. “You should have told me, I would've dolled myself up.” He teases, but he’s serious. He wants to be made pretty for you, to have you look at him and ignore the scars that decorate his face and his body. When you roll your eyes and shake your head, your hand curved over his untarnished skin, he deflates.

“It’s not that,” you tell him with a laugh. You mov to sit fully on the bed, your legs crossed and he’s unable to keep his eyes off of you.

He raises his brows, and his eyes are focused on the swell of your stomach, soft and full, and he hates that he wants to touch you. To simply let his body drape over you and keep you under him. “It’s not?” He asks, his throat already beginning to close and when he catches your eyes, he flashes a smile- awkward and tense. “Then what is it?”

Your hand moves slowly away from him, and even though he is warm, the fire inside of him unending and all consuming, he is cold without you. He watches as your hand falls to cup over your calves. “I just want to sleep naked with you.” He must have given you a bewildered look because when you laugh, you go to hold his hands. “You heard me,” you lilt, something so sweet on your tongue that it makes him ache.

“Why?” He’s done it before with you. Sticky skin against sticky skin, your chest rising and falling, his body shaking in the afterglow of sex as you kiss his chest. But it was always that, always after sex when you both slept naked together. Why now? Why without clothing? And even when he’s dressed, he feels so bare.

“Dabi,” you call his name and it’s like sin that slips past your lips. Your hand rises slowly to cup the side of his face and he hates how you can read him like an open book. He hates how vulnerable he’s become when he’s around you. “I just want to sleep with you. Nothing more and nothing less, honey.”

Honey. What a sweet thing to call him. A nickname that is given and told with love and admiration, and he knows who he is. Thirty people is how many he’s killed. His skin is purple and falling apart on him. He is ash and smoke, and at any second, he will fall apart. No matter where you touch, he is scarred; your touch is something so delicate and painful against his neck that he leans into it, desperate for the pain, but desperate for the touch that you are so willing to give him.

“Me too?” He asks, his clothing pulling taut against his scars and when you nod, a soft, inaudible plea on your lips, he can’t deny you. He can’t rid himself of his clothes quick enough, and yet, he takes them off softly as if he were taking off a bandaid.

Your hands replace his and when you lean over him, your chest is in his face and if it were any other time, if he were less broken than he is now, he’s sure he would have joked and teased. He’s sure that he would have used sex to distract you from seeing him. You’ve seen him before and yet, it is never enough. It’s never his skin, it’s never him, it’s a ghost of who he should be- coy and charming. Yet, here he is, having you helping him remove his clothing because if he were to do it, he'd never be bare in front of you. He’d rather burn once more than to ever have you truly see how he appears.

He is a man of many faults and when you kiss his lips, his scarred and rough bottom lip pressed against yours, he pushes you down to the bed and hovers above you. Your hands hold him tenderly, keeping him together, and you smile at him. There are tears in your eyes and he wonders if he’d match you in another lifetime. The fear. The adoration. The way that despite being above you, he’s unable to breathe properly. He can’t stand it. It’s all so horrific in a way he never thought could be real. He lays on the bed, his body vulnerable to you and your ridicule and when he looks at you, he gives you sad eyes, expecting for your face to twist once you realize who you’ve allowed to touch you.

The air is cold, and his staples are warm, and he is bare. Fear has taken over, and it’s chosen to stay, to his his eyes follow as you look at him, and when you raise your hand, letting it hover over his scarred skin, he can feel it and it’s excruciatingly painful and something that he has craved for far too long.

“Honey,” you call him, your hand curving over the crown of his head and running past his hair. You say it so dolefully that he has to shake his head and even then, your smile is one that lacks it’s usual shine.

“It’s nothing,” your name is a whisper against his lips and it’s a sin for him to say something like that. “Just-” he pauses, he doesn’t want you to stop touching him, but he also doesn’t want you to look at him. He swallows and wraps his hand around your wrist. “Do you mind just laying beside me?”

It’s pitiful. Pathetic and everything bad that he’s ever been told. He can’t stand you looking at him when he can’t feel. When he isn’t supposed to feel a thing. And yet, your lips press against his and he can taste the mint on your tongue, and he lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes tightly as you rest carefully beside him.

“Dabi,” you call him and it sends a shiver down his spine when the thin blanket is placed over the both of you. He hums in response, unable to trust his voice at the very moment. “For what it’s worth,” your breath is cool against his shoulder, “I think you’re beautiful.” He can’t help the ugly and snarky laugh that slips past his throat in some cruel joke. You ignore the mean sound and continue, your hand soft on his body. “I wouldn’t dream of ever leaving you. I think I’m too attached to ever believe that I could find someone else. You’re the best that I’ll ever come across, and I hope that when you look at me, you know that I’ll never grow tired of you.”

When you’re asleep, your name having left his lips in a mantra, he lets out a shaky breath. His face burns and he’s glad that he can’t cry. He’s glad he rid himself of that emotion. He’d never forgive himself if he cried because of you. He’d never forgive himself for being so attached to you. He holds you close and the ceiling is blurry. You’re warm in the ways that remind him of something once lost and found. You are something that he will never forget and will never forgive himself for invading your life. Sleeping bare with you was much more than nude, it was vulnerability to let you touch him and see him as him. He turns his head and kisses your forehead. “I hope that when you look at me, you know that I’m sorry.” His voice is weak and he can’t breathe, but he’s by your side and when he wakes up, he wants you to still be there.

Shigaraki Tomura:

His reflection is whole- the mirror before him clean and free of anything that would distort him. With an exposed chest, his shirt is on the sink counter, and he stands in front of the mirror shirtless, observing his body as if he had never seen it before. Tomura raises a careful hand, letting it ghost over his stomach where scars of all shapes and sizes are etched upon his body. The scars are soft, stretched skin that feels almost false under his own, the edges ragged and tickling against the tips of his fingers. He’s never had the luxury of taking a moment to stop and watch his own body, to trace over the imperfections and feel them. It’s so foreign that it makes his anxious, worry bubbling in his stomach that when you call his name, he pulls his hand away from himself, taking a step away from the mirror, recoiling as if his reflection would reach out and trap him there.

He’s never been one to be ashamed of himself, to let the words of others affect him. Time and time again, he’s been told of how awful he looks, reminded of how he’d look better if just a few things were changed about him, and in the end, he’s never cared about any of those comments. He never put his worth on his physical appearance, and that was fine for him. Still, when he sees himself he can find his own flaws, the remarks that people make, and when he sees you, he can’t find any of those. The shirt is grabbed, held tightly in his hands that he has to lift a finger, because old habits die hard.

The door closes behind him and he sees you sitting on the bed, the blanket pulled up towards the chest, gripped in your fists as you hold it close, giving him a tentative smile. Your shoulders are bare, your collarbones exposed, and with his own torso exposed, he clears his head and turns towards the door, almost hoping for an interruption but so scared that someone other than you would see him like this- scars and all.

“You’re not wearing anything,” he presumes, turning back to you, a soft shade of pink blooming on his chest and slowly creeping upwards. “I uh-” he clears his throat even if there is nothing there- “should I do the same?”

You laugh and it’s so sweet, so light and airy, that it reminds him of the first time he shared cotton candy with you. It’s a memory that he pushes away when you drop the blanket and even if he’s seen you in much more passionate ways, he still averts his eyes.

“Only if you want,” you tell him and it makes something inside of him switch, to follow the implication of a command and shed his clothing.

His shirt falls into a puddle of fabric and he steps over it, his steps quick as he goes to the bed that he shares with you. The edge of the bed presses against his thighs and he can’t seem to rid himself of his sweats quick enough, sliding them off until they pool around his ankles. He’s breathless, looking down at himself, his hands hooked over the waistband of his briefs and when he blinks, your hands are over his.

“Usually sex is a lot more fun than this,” he jokes, lifting his head and giving you a ghost of smile that quickly disappears.

“It is,” your voice airy. “But-” your knuckles are now pressed his hips and you lower them slightly, your hands cool against his warm skin- “it’s not about sex tonight.” His boxers join the pool of fabric that is around his ankles and he quickly removes his socks, climbing into bed as you back away to make space for him.

“No?” He whispers, leaning towards you, his hands on either side of your thighs as you sit on your legs. “What a shame,” he says, leaning his head onto your chest, his ear pressed against your beating heart. Your hands curve over the top of his head and he pushes himself further into you when you click your tongue.

It’s quiet for a moment and he can’t bring himself to ruin the silence, to move away from you, even if his arms are starting to tire from holding himself up. Your hand is over him, parting through his silver hair and his ears burn with every touch.

“Tomura?” He hums in response, pushing himself further into you. He doesn’t want for the moment to be ruined. He wants to stay here, uncomfortable and sore, and safe and held. He wants to be in your arms. “How about we lie down, okay?” Your hand leaves the crown of his head and when you pull away, he’s left chasing after you, trying to follow your warmth and reclaim it.

The blanket is pulled, held open for you and him, and in it, is warmth. In it, is you that looks at him so tenderly, the corners of your eyes crinkled and the little fat in your cheeks pushing upwards as you smile at him. He’s clumsy and quick, and he doesn’t care if he seems desperate to get under the covers with you, but it’s all that he wants. He just wants to be beside you.

His hand aches, and his arms are sore, and he’s beside you, his face against your chest as he holds you close to him. It truly is just lying beside you, it’s nothing more, simply being bare in front of you with the distraction of sex to occupy you or him, and it’s horrific. Your hand starts from his neck, past scars trembling under your touch that leads him to hold his breath, taking in one last breath that fills his lungs with the sweet aroma of your body wash and cream. Your hand lowers, tracing over the scars that are wrapped around his arms, coiled and pressed and whispers your name. It stops you for a moment, but when he says nothing else, devoid of breath, his lungs burning and throat tight, your hand continues to press and massage over the scars, each gentle nudge bringing forward the reminder of who he is and when his hands clamps around your arms, free of the mangled scars that are his, he lets out a mix of a whine and cry. He doesn’t know what it is that you are doing, but it hurts and he’s so desperate for the comfort that he fails to register as your hand glides down and flutters over his side, where a scar is large against him, wrapping around his side and fading once it reaches towards his stomach. It’s an odd sensation, different from his. Yours feels as if it really is a ghost that is pressing against him, something so light and foreign that it’s as if you had never touched him before.

“Does it ever hurt?” You ask, and he can feel the press of your thigh against his.

“Yes,” he breathes, unable to lie to you. What is it about you that ruins him, that makes him so weak and willing to tell you whatever it is that you want to hear. He’d bow before you, plead at the mercy of you for just a simple smile.

“Am I hurting you?” You ask and when you press down, the small shift of weight making his gasp out, he hisses out his answer.

“Yes,” he confesses. Your hand starts to lift away from him and he holds it down, his own scarred hand holds yours. “Please, don’t stop,” he asks of you and when he pulls away his eyes burn and yours look so sad and he can’t have that. He can’t have you look at him, and he can’t bear to see you so sad.

Tomura presses his lips against yours, the kiss wet and shaky and it’s more of him needing you than it is of him just wanting to kiss you. He pulls you close, his nails dragging against your soft skin and there’s this aching part of him that doesn’t want to let up for breath, he’d be happy to die there with you, his lips on yours, and yours on his. His heart echoes in his ears and beats against his ribcage like a bird with too big of wings trapped in a cage. Your hands curve around his neck, and it’s different. It isn’t a gnawing sense of pain and itch, it’s not muddled clarity that makes his stomach twist; it is simply you and your touch that keeps him grounded. He’s gasping and when he finally pulls away, gasping for breath and looking at you through half lidded eyes, he sees you smiling back at him, your chest rising and dipping and he is still with you.

“I’m still here,” you say as if you could have heard his worries. Your hand cups his chest and moves to tangle into his hair. “Whatever you want of me, I’ll give it to you.” It’s something that he will hold you to and when you press your lips against his in a fleeting kiss, he’s left wanting more.

Stop because I will start yearning. You barely remember Aizawa from that time you met when you were young, but he remembers what your favorite flower is and fills your room with them when you arrive to stay at his palace. He's quiet, but attentive. All the workers are whispering and giggling when no one is around because he's so smitten with you and is always asking them to find out your favorite foods so they can be served at dinner, your favorite color so he can have dresses made for you, what book you were reading in the garden so he can read it as well and discuss it with you. I'm in love with him

your husband leads you down the hall into your own quarters, a brightly lit room, flowers draped from the windows and balcony.

They bring you more comfort than he could ever know-- the same flowers grow at your gardens.

...your parent's gardens. No longer yours.

This place is your home now.

"I want you to be happy here." he barely meets your eye before he turns into the hall, presumably to his own quarters, "Let the maids know if you need anything else."

You clutch on the the hem of his shirt and he stops, turning back to you in surprise.

"A-aren't we supposed to-?" you gesture to the bed, unsure of how to bring up the idea of your... martial duties.

"Supposed to?"

You run a thumb over the stitching of his clothes, pretending to admire the craftsmanship instead of avoiding his gaze.

"Sleep together." Worry creeps into your voice. You're no stranger to sex, but, as you look on to your husband, you can't help but realize how much of a stranger he really is. You know nothing about him but his name and yet you're expected to give your body, your life, over-

"If-" His hand clasps over yours, gentle and reassuring, "-we consumate this marriage, it won't be because we're supposed to. I would never ask you to do something you didn't want to do."

You squeeze his hand back. "Thank you." You wish you knew him better-- just well enough to read his expression, locked somewhere between sadness and something softer.

"It's your home too, my dear." Aizawa pulls away once again, "You deserve to feel comfortable."

Night strolls

Ayato x reader

Warnings: none, just fluff <3

A/n: did yall see Ayato? I'm actually about to pass out because of how he looks AND HIS VOICE OH MY GOD 😳💗

"Good evening my lady." Ayato said with a soft voice as he glanced at you.

"Greetings Ayato, enjoying the evening?" you said with your fan at your lips and he smiled.

"Now even more because of you." he told you and you blushed.

"Ah yes indeed, how have you been lately?" you said as you started to walk next to him. He just chuckled and looked down at you.

"Do you really wish to know?" he said and you looked at him.

"You are a dear friend of mine Ayato, of course I wish to know, plus, your sister would worry if she wouldn't know how you are, you need to open up a little." you said and he gave a defeated sign.

"Fine fine, I surrender myself to your mighty judgement!" he said and you laughed.

"How can such a serious head of the Yashiro Comission and head of the Kamisato clan be so playful sometimes?" you asked and he just smiled.

"I must admit that this is just the effect you have upon me my lady." he said and looked down at you once again.

"Still the same charmer I see." you said with a small grin and he got closer to you.

"Only for you my dear." he said and you tried not to die there from how flustered you got. Right now you were at the bridge from Inazuma city, near the water and that small shrine for the kitsune. As you looked at the sky, you sighted.

"Ah its such a beautiful night, I wish we could stay like this, no clan affairs, no etiquette lessons or way to act before everyone, here we can be ourselves." you said.

"Indeed very beautiful." he said and you looked at him only to see that he wasn't looking at the sky, oh no, quite the opposite, he was looking at you with such an adoration.

"Ayato-" you tried to say but he held your hands so you would look at him.

"Look, I know that maybe you think it would be complicated for us to start something, after all we both rule over clan's with big duties, but, believe me, we can make it trough together." he said and looked at you in the eyes.

"But... What about the others? If we get together, they will expect us to marry, have heirs, and our whole relationship will be public..." you said and he took your cheek in his hand.

"You don't have to do all that if you don't feel like it, we are the own rulers of our lives, so why care about what the others think?" he said and you looked at his blue orbs. They were charming, just like his sister's eyes.

"I- alright, if you really think it could work, I'm willing to give it a chance." you said and he smiled at you slowly approaching you. When you were at centimeters away from his face, he connected your lips with his, kissing you sweetly. You felt as if this was the right thing to happen, a lot of thoughts invaded your head and all you could think of was him, the one you loved soo much.

When you broke, he looked at you and caressed your cheeks with his fingers.

"What about you come and have dinner with me and my sister? I'm sure she would enjoy your company as much as I do." he said and you chuckled.

"How could I refuse to see Ayaka and Thoma, I missed them so much, but I missed you even more." you added and he smirked.

"I didn't expect anything else my dear, after all I'm your soul mate." he said and you rolled your eyes.

"As you say "lord" Kamisato. "you said and he grabbed your waist pushing you into him.

"You will get to see me as lord Kamisato too one day, dear, just wait and see." he said and grinned as you blushed hard.

And with that, you both headed to the Kamisato Estate.

Hope you enjoyed! :D

Requests are opened, just text me or request me stuff, I write about genshin characters, bsd, jjk, mha and aot characters tho <333

And don't forget, Ayato wanters will be Ayato havers, hopefully me included 🤣

levi’s always been quiet around your friend group. it’s not because he’s shy, or because he doesn’t like any of you (though to the untrained eye it may appear as such) - rather, he doesn’t really have all that much to say. someone so perfectly content with observing the crowd, gathering bits and pieces of information no matter how mundane it appears to be.

he knows more about you all than he’ll let on.

when you first joined the group, his stoic nature was something you figured stemmed from lack of interest or merely dislike. rarely did he engage in conversation or acknowledge your existence with much more than a short ‘hi’.

it really wasn’t until recently that you were proven wrong.

the six of you were all packed together in your friend’s dorm, savoring a night off from school and work and whatever else took up a good portion of free time. conversations were casual, talks of how shitty the week was or a bitch of a professor who apparently can’t grade papers filling the room. you, excited to finally interject about how much you loved your new english literature class, waited patiently for your friends to finish before speaking up.

“you guys, i’ve been-”

you’re cut off by the person diagonally from you loudly complaining about their job.

don’t give up; try again.

“i haven’t told you all about my new class i’m loving-”

“stop talking for a second so i can hear this.”

your friend’s words poke holes in your chest. still, you don’t want to quit now. they’ve had their chance to speak.

“can i just-”

“oh my god, no one cares.”

the comment was of course, a joke. you should know that, right? everyone’s laughing. it has to be. yet despite the teasing nature, as the group moves on to the next topic you can’t help but wish for the couch to swallow you whole. intrusive thoughts begin to plague your mind as the world around you becomes mere background noise.

you make everything about you.

stop overpowering the conversations. clearly no one cares.

don’t take this so seriously. have a sense of humor for once.

the words bite at your heart and you do your best to ignore them, to be a good friend and listen to whatever the hell is going on. just as you’re about to reel yourself back in, you feel something.

a tap on your shoulder.

your head whips to your left, where levi himself is sat on the couch at your side. in all the chaos you honestly forgot he was even here. not that he makes much of an effort to speak in the first place.

a small (dare you say friendly?) smile plays at the corner of his mouth.

“tell me about your class. i want to know more.”

steel eyes don’t stray from yours. it’s a moment of pure shock before you recover enough to talk. he’s never shown interest before - not many people have, if you’re honest with yourself.

a beat, and your chest burns with gratitude.

happiness.

without further ado you launch into full detail, stopping every so often only for levi to urge you on as he absorbs every word. you can’t help but grin as you speak, answering any and all questions he asks.

you’re surprised at how wrong your judgement of him was - yet you can’t say you’re all that disappointed.

-

based on my real life friend scenarios and i can only wish i had a levi to help me out so i give you this messy and terribly written product of my daydreams.