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#fluff month
mizanplaz · 2 months
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I was inspired by this fanart of sanji ice skating so for the #opffff24 i did some doodles of the strawhats having some winter fun 😁
This the work that inspired me :)
I might make some of the doodles digital 🤔
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demigods-posts · 1 month
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sometimes. i just have to remind myself that percy took annabeth to paris. like, canonically. he forgot their one-month anniversary. and took his girl to paris to make up for it. the standards are in elysium.
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sttoru · 5 months
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satoru hums a tune as he adjusts his sunglasses — putting them on the top of his head. he’s in a happy mood today; nothing or no one could wipe that big grin off his face. the reason?
“. . . gojo, hurry up.” megumi calls out whilst idly standing at the foot of the staircase that connected to the roads outside campus.
you smile as you see your lover gleefully walk down the stairs — jumping from one to the other. satoru’s smile was one you wish would never fade. ever.
“oh!” the white-haired sorcerer suddenly stops in his tracks. his sparkling eyes take in the sight before him and his heart skipped a beat at the realisation:
two of his favourite people were standing next to each other. waiting for him so they could go on their little (family) trip. satoru just had to capture this moment and put it in the album that’s dedicated to the both of you. it’s a must in his eyes.
“megumiiii,” satoru fishes his phone out of his pocket and puts it in landscape mode, tongue peeking out at the corner of his lips to show just how deeply he was concentrating on getting the perfect shot, “step a bit closer—yep! jus’ like that!”
“can we not do this? we’re gonna miss the train and—” megumi starts off with a sigh and a faint embarrassed pout, though was quickly cut off as you pulled him closer to your body — coddling him like he was still the little child satoru and you had met a couple years back.
the blue haired boy sighs once again, however eventually gives in and awkwardly puts up a peace sign. you smile brightly in return and satoru was absolutely cheesing behind his phone.
“awwww, how adorable!” satoru grins once he has taken about twenty different pictures — each one special and a treasure he will forever cherish. after putting the best one as his phone’s new lock screen, he rushes down the stairs and steps in-between megumi and you.
one arm holds your body close to his by the waist, the other arm wraps around megumi’s shoulders. megumi reluctantly allows it since he didn’t want to ruin the light-hearted atmosphere. that fact alone makes satoru even happier;
“let’s go — i can’t wait to finally spend some quality time with two of my favourite people, hehe.”
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nariism · 7 months
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ೃ⁀➷ MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE ★
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a/n: fluff!! neuvillette being a touch starved loser (affectionate) + lots of terms of endearment. happy belated neuvillette day! may all neuvillette wanters be neuvillette havers ≧◡≦
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Neuvillette can't stand coming home if not into your arms.
The deafening silence of a sleeping home drives him mad. It used to be welcomed after his terribly loud days. Now only serves to remind him of the millennium he spent alone, of the heartbreak he had to endure with no one to hold him, and of the growing emptiness within his heart long before he knew you.
It's unlike him to come home so late, but duty calls and as the Iudex of Fontaine he must go wherever summoned.
For days he has come home well into the latest hours of the night, sliding off his shoes in the darkness of the hall and allowing the silence to swallow him up whole. Five unbearably long days of missing your smile greeting him at the door, hands all over his face and squeezing his cheeks until he nudges them away in lieu of kissing you hello.
He expects tonight to be the same. It's so late that there was not a single soul wandering the streets of the city, no one awake to witness the very tired, very cranky Chief Justice.
You always find a way to defy his expectations.
The hall is quiet when he cracks open the front door. Crushing loneliness swells in his chest and sinks into the pit of his stomach when he realizes that you must have gone to bed long ago, as anyone sane would do. But then there's a click, followed by a small flame dancing in the dark.
You ignite an array of candles one by one, each additional glow illuminating your beautiful face in warm light. Neuvillette can't stop the hitching of his breath, nor the confusion knitted through his brows.
"What are you doing awake?"
You know he doesn't mean to scold you. Soft laughter fills his ears as you saunter over to him slowly. Realization crashes down on him as you approach, allowing him to see closer what has kept you up.
"Happy birthday, my love."
It's so late that midnight passed hours ago. He hadn't even realized amongst all the chaos of his work that the 17th had come and gone, making way for his birthday.
Only you would remember. It was a talent you had, memorizing every detail about him that sometimes even he lost track of.
("Neuvillette, dear, I picked up some dark roast on the way home today." He didn't even realize he had run out.
"Welcome home, I made ragout!" He wasn't aware he was craving it until you brought it up.
"Do you want this?" It's the last cookie in the bag, saved especially for him because you know it's from his favourite bakery in town.)
He leans in and blows out his candles, eyes never leaving yours as he blinks at you slowly. You look so beautiful even now, in the dimly moonlit hall. Darkness envelops your bodies again and yet he never tears his gaze away. Not even for a moment.
"Now put the cake down, please."
"Hm?" Your head tilts, clearly confused by his request.
"So I can hold you," he quickly explains, fingers itching at his sides because of how much he aches to hug you.
You gently set the cake down on the entrance table before you get scooped into a warm embrace, pressed snuggly to his chest as he memorizes the outline of your body against his once more.
"I've missed you, my dear," he says, face burrowed into the crook of your neck.
"It's only been a couple days," you laugh, and then remind him: "I see you every day at lunch."
"No, this is different." He pulls away slightly, forehead pressed against yours as he looks into your eyes. There's something in there— vulnerability and love all mixed into a beautiful purple harmony. "I miss coming home into your arms after long days," he admits.
"Oh, love," you breathe, reaching up to cup his face the way he's so used to. "Things will settle down again soon."
His eyes close as he savours your presence, soaking up all the affection you're giving him in his moment of weakness. You've always spoiled him.
"I suppose so," he agrees, a smile finally settling on his lips. Your thumb runs along it, tracing the curve of his happiness. There's a beat of silence before you open your mouth again.
"What did you wish for?" You ask curiously, voice growing quieter as you lean in to kiss him. And the answer he gives comes naturally.
Neuvillette has always wished for things he read about in novels; imaginary promises of treasure and desire and fame, sealed with the wispy smoke of blown out birthday candles. He isn't even sure if he has ever actually wanted any of those. But as he looks at you, with the slow beating of his heart and the brushing of your lips against him, he can't think of a single thing he could want more than this.
"I did not wish for anything," he tells you honestly, giving your waist a squeeze. "I already have everything I could ever want."
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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ministarfruit · 3 months
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day 2: please be gentle ♡
(femslashfeb prompt list)
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saetoru · 2 years
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Imagine how funny it’s be if it was the “break up with my son” trope with rich boy gojo but instead of break up it’s his mother begging you to stay with him forever because he gets insufferably sad/annoying when you’re not around
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[ FINALS WEEK ] GOJO SATORU.
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“satoru.”
“please don’t leave me,” his voice is croaked, frail, broken. you roll your eyes—gojo has always had a knack for being the most dramatic person in the room, but you think of all his moments, this one might just take the cake.
“this is ridiculous—”
“please,” he even pretends to sniffle, and for a moment, you almost consider actually leaving him. “i’m nothing without you. empty with no meaning—”
“satoru, it’s just for this week,” you say flatly.
gojo has always been spoiled, and truth be told, you don’t hold yourself to the standards you’d like to be able to say you do in order to break the cycle. but really, it’s not your fault—his pout is rather dangerous, and he’s pretty damn good at whining, and he knows how to bat his lashes just right to get what he wants. this time, however, you’re determined. this time is strictly a no-giving-into-satoru time, and he can shed pretty tears all he wants, but you’re not relenting.
“what if you fall in love with someone else during our one week break up? i won’t make it if you do,” he gasps dramatically. you have to hand it to him—his ability in theatrics is at least persistent, even if quite a bit overdone sometimes.
“i’m sure your house would be peaceful then,” you snort. you can just picture the offended pout on his lips even though he’s not here, and you’re somewhat happy that he can’t see the smile you crack over the phone—that would only add to the drama, and he’s already a handful without the addition.
“baby, don’t do this,” he begs, making you sigh. 
it’s finals week. meaning all the days of class gojo has made you skip in order to coddle him (again, he’s very spoiled) will soon come back to really bite you in the ass while you have to make up for what you missed to pass your exams. meaning no gojo satoru will be allowed anywhere near your vicinity as an added distraction to keep you from studying. you know your boyfriend, and you know him well. you know that i promise i’ll just sit and be quiet will turn into his head resting in your lap, which will turn into pouts for your fingers to play with his hair, which will turn into complaints of boredom, which will all end with forced cuddles and an earful of his blabbering as he steals your attention. 
and you cannot afford a single failed final. 
so, with careful and deliberate consideration, you come up with your solution—which seems to have utterly broken your (painfully) spoiled boyfriend. no staying over the nights for a week is a very hard thing to grasp for rich and spoiled boyfriends who rarely hear the word no, apparently, and gojo is not taking the news lightly.
in fact, he seems to be taking the news a lot harder than you initially anticipated. never did you think a one week ban from sharing a bed with gojo so you can earn your degree would turn into his mother phoning you with a desperate plea to not break up with her son. it takes you by surprise, makes you stare at your phone with a double take to make sure you’re really talking to who you think you’re talking to—and that she’s really said what you think she’s said.
which begs the real question…where did the words break up even come from? and then you realize a certain somebody has exaggerated your rule for the week to something entirely new.
“satoru, you are entirely too much,” you groan, “one week of no sleepovers will not kill you. stop being bratty. and stop telling your mother i broke up with you, liar.”
“you practically are,” he huffs. “you don’t see me all day when you study. now you’re taking away the night too? just say you stopped loving me.” you scoff, and he pauses. “don’t actually say that, though,” he adds quickly.
“some of us have to pass,” you scowl, “i don’t have trust funds to swim in.”
“you can—”
“if you say i can spend your money, you might have to tell your mom we actually broke up.”
“so mean,” he whines, “well, why can’t i just sleep in your bed? i don’t even snore, i wouldn’t bother you,” he protests. he’s stubborn—which sometimes makes your heart flutter (like when he defends your honor to his snobby father) but sometimes (like now, for example) it’s enough to make you wish his lips would sew shut. permanently. 
“because,” you sigh exasperatedly, “you never sleep unless i’m in bed with you, and i’m going to stay up very late. stop being difficult—”
“i promise i’ll be good—”
“you are never good,” you accuse, narrowing your eyes. “and you break this promise every time. no sleepovers for this week until all my finals are over. and no more bothering your mom. got it?”
“but this time for real i’ll be good—”
“no, toru,” you say firmly, a hint of finality in your tone. it’s silent, and you can just imagine him deflating, and a small part of you feels just a little bad. “baby, i promise i’ll try to squeeze in some time every now in then, okay? we’ll meet for lunch or something.” you try to ease his conscience, but it doesn’t do much to persuade his sulkiness. 
“yeah, whatever,” he mumbles under his breath. 
a sulky gojo is a nightmare to deal with—you silently send your prayers to his mother for the next week, and you almost consider saving up for a fancy gift to offer her as an apology. but you also feel just a little bad for your sweet (though annoying) boyfriend. it’s at least the slightest bit endearing that he enjoys your company as much as he does, and you’d be lying if you say you don’t enjoy it just as much. 
so you relent—not fully though, you reason. “you can stay only the night,” you mutter, huffing as you hear his breath hitch with excitement, “and you have to stay in the living room until i’m ready to sleep.”
“i’ll tell my mom we’re back together,” he grins.
“we were never broken up!” you hiss as you pinch your nose, but before you can help yourself, there’s a light giggle that spills past your lips.
“she’ll be thrilled,” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes fondly. 
“cause it means you’ll leave the house to see me.”
“true,” he laughs this time, soft and sweet and enough to make you think spending nights with gojo this week isn’t the worst thing to happen. “i love you.”
“i know.”
“say it back—”
“okay bye. i have to study,” you grin as you cut him off, hanging up the line with a snicker.
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© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
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vampbloodbunny2 · 10 months
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Girls Remus
🤝
,, it's that time of the month"
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riaki · 6 months
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moneyload | satoru gojo x reader (implied fem)
this is for @satoruoo + everyone who’s tired of my angst | 1k wc
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satoru likes spoiling you.
no— like would be the world's greatest understatement. satoru feels about spoiling you the way he feels about you— he doesn’t just like you, he‘s utterly enamored with you. if you asked, he'd move mountains for you. or give up a portion of his candy; both are equitable in his bright eyes. he loves you so much that he'd skip a basketball session with suguru or leave in the middle of the fight to throw the leftover scraps of a cursed spirit to whoever was unlucky enough to be there at the time; you're more important. you've always been.
yeah, that’s gotta be it. a perfect way to paint his feelings for you on a pure canvas brightened by your smile, light as a feather and lively as the sun. and you're completely deserving, he thinks— you, who's always been so patient and kind with him.
as such, he thinks it’s a crime to waste such a beautiful figure on things less than lavish dress and delicate jewelry; but to be honest, he thinks you could don a potato sack and still make it look exquisite. nevertheless, each time you protest when he drapes another dainty necklace glittering with gems cut from a million-dollar wallet and 58 facets (all the reasons he loves you— that's what he calls them.), he shushes you promptly with a swift, sweet kiss; you get a noseful of his expensive cologne every time he sidles up to you and gets comfortable. which, for the record, is quite often.
out of everything he gets you; bouquets of beautiful speckled flowers that look as if a painter dumped their entire palette of pastels and pretties onto the petals, sweet chocolates dark with the tiniest amount of cherry liquor in the center ("i don't need them— i already get drunk off of you, sweetheart!"), fragrant perfume or the latest comfortable clothing that catches his eye (this one's less common. he likes it better when you're only in his clothes.), jewelry is the one he always finds his way back to the most often.
why? well, if you ask him— there's nothing better than being sprawled on your couch with his head in your lap, nuzzling into your warm hand as he catches a whiff of the perfume he gifted you last week paired with the reddest rose he could find on your wrist. your hands card through his hair, and he uses the opportunity to catch your arm before you can move any further, giving you a smug grin as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.
(it's a little embarrassing the amount of times you've thought he was going to propose from that alone.)
you'll open it, and it'll be a pretty silver necklace that matches the one around his neck, or a gold ring with ornate details that he slips onto your fingers after taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles with a smile and a laugh. sometimes it's a bracelet adorned with rich jewels the color of your eyes; maybe something rose quartz to represent the flush on his cheeks you always seem to elicit or a marigold yellow to show the pure joy he gets from being around you. if you ask him about it, he'll just say, "i wasn't kidding when i said i get drunk off of you, baby." with a boyish giggle that's far too charming to not have been used in his younger years to get his way and a sweet little wink of an afterthought that has your heart racing.
on the occasions when the gift is far less... appropriate, you'll always sigh and chastise him with a shake of your head because you both know the fabric will be torn to shreds in a matter of a few minutes. he does it anyway, though. he's always been a little bit of a brat in that sense.
whatever it ends up as, satoru absolutely adores seeing your reactions; the cute flush on your cheeks when you accept it with a little thanks and a kiss to his cheek, leaning forward on the tips of your toes because he's too tall for his own good. maybe even to hook a finger around the bridge of his sunglasses for lips to lips, if he's lucky. of course, he knows he doesn't have to buy your affection— you've made that abundantly clear in moments he doesn't like to think about as anything more than vulnerability when he's worn out, but there's just something about you that makes him want to pile it on. he's always had more money than he knows what to do with, anyway.
and maybe, just maybe— one day he'll dare to hope for a future past school hallways, flattering dresses and skirts or sneaky kisses when he's a little sweaty and his jacket is in your arms and you're on the bleachers, hijacking shoko's pack of cigarettes while the squeak of shoes on the gym floor and the sound of a basketball rattling in the hoop fills your ears. past nights when you're curled up in his arms and he can comfortably rest his head in the crook of your neck, tucked away where it always should be (and always will be).
he'll hope for days when he gets to wake up to you by his side, a silver band with so much more meaning than the fifth one he's given you that week on your ring finger and a matching one on his own, because satoru loves you so much that he'd empty out the vaults of a bank just to make you smile at him. not in the hollow way his father always had at home, or in the obligatory resolute smiles of the servants on his estate, but in a genuine way; a way no one else (except his mom) had ever come close to because if he sold everything he ever had for you, his world would still be right in front of him, holding his hands and kissing his face in spontaneous bursts of love, like shooting stars dancing across his cheeks as a way of thanks.
...so, maybe satoru likes spoiling you so much because you always seem to return tenfold.
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if u looked at my search history you'd see 'how many cuts does a diamond have' and 'what are the chocolates with alcohol in them called' my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !
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stsgsk · 6 months
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"You've saved me as what?" Satoru repeats for what must have been the fifth time.
You sigh, speaking again, slowly. "Cotton Swab. I saved you as Cotton Swab"
Satoru gapes at you, mouth opening and closing without a single word coming out. In the end, he pouts and look away.
You frown. "Hey, come on. Don't be like that," You walk around him so you're directly in his line of view, his pink lips sticking out as he crosses his arms. You show him your phone, where his contact really is saved as 'Cotton Swab'. "It's a term of endearment. An affectionate nickname. I mean, would you rather just be saved as Satoru? How boring is that?"
Satoru glances at your screen once, then looks away, clearly unimpressed. "You didn't even give me an emoji."
"Alright, alright" you say, going ahead to edit his contact name. "I'll add some emojis. Which ones do you want?"
Before you could blink, satoru had taken your phone. He gives it back to you a few seconds later, leaving you chuckling at the long list of emojis he had put after his name. His name, you just realised, he changed to 'bf'.
You look up at him with a grin. "You gonna explain that?"
"Nope" he says back with a matching grin.
He didn't explain that you two were now matching, because he had long since had you saved as 'gf' with a whole bunch of emojis after too.
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c-hrona · 10 months
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The Lovers. Edit: now is a gif too!!
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astraystayyh · 7 days
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Breathe
hyunjin x photographer!reader. friends to lovers with so so much tension and pining. hyunjin is too pretty (yet again). suggestive in the end and reader is wearing a dress. inspired by Bathtub hyunjin.
thank you hyunjin yet again for being my eternal muse and inspiring this brainrot. wrote this while listening to All mine by plaza so.. please enjoy <333 feedback is highly appreciated 🫶🏻
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Is it possible to drown in the depths of your emotions, until breathing becomes a forgotten process, one that eludes each one of your senses?
Yes, you believe, if standing before a vision of ethereal beauty, as you are now, all encapsulated within Hwang Hyunjin’s being.
The camera slightly shakes in your grasp as you linger by the threshold of the bathroom, eyeing Hyunjin’s silhouette submerged in the waters. He’s sitting inside the bathtub, fingers running through his raven locks, awaiting your return.
He doesn’t seem to notice your presence, nor do you wish him to. Instead, you remain silent by the door, allowing yourself a few seconds to savor the intoxicating aura he exudes.
See, he isn’t doing anything particular, nor is he adorned in anything enticing— a simple white shirt and matching linen pants. And yet, his presence fills the air, compelling oxygen particles to flee from your being, leaving you transfixed, unable to do anything but gaze at him.
“I can feel you staring,” he remarks casually, his eyes still drawn before him as he leans back, tapping the edge of the tub with his ring-clad fingers.
Your heart pulses against your ribs, a dance that the organ knows intimately by now, one that Hyunjin alone can orchestrate. It isn’t the first time he’s had this effect on you, it is a familiar territory you first breached when Minho introduced you to him.
Hyunjin is a friend, but his hands find your waist more times than deemed platonic, and you like his touch much more than you’d like to admit.
“I'm assessing my subject, you know?” A faint grin dances upon your lips as you approach the bathtub. Hyunjin is doing you a favor— you just booked your first photography gig, and your client only has one condition: to shoot it in a bathtub. You wanted to translate your vision to life beforehand, and Hyunjin volunteered to help you.
“And how do I look?” he inquires, his smile a sugary dream that coaxes forth his left dimple. You place your camera gently on the countertop, bending down to inspect him up close.
His eyelids glisten with the golden glitter you delicately applied earlier. His skin is dewy, glistening underneath the warm lightning, and his lips drip crimson, courtesy of the cherry chapstick you carefully tapped into place.
There is always a myriad of visions that come to your mind when you think of Hyunjin— a blazing fire where each flame surges higher towards the heavens, a burning dance of passion and confidence; or a delicate red rose standing resilient in an empty field, vulnerable yet unwavering in its strength.
And now, you see a siren, beckoning mortals with a voice of beauty, ensnaring them with its hypnotic allure, much like he captivates you in this moment.
“You look nice,” you settle on saying, and he playfully pouts, his thumb grazing against your wrist lightly, akin to the delicate flutter of a butterfly's wing. “That's it? You never compliment me properly.”
“Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check,” you shrug, grabbing a dozen of roses and scattering them all around his body. You nod, satisfied with the outcome, finally retrieving your camera.
“Let's start with a simple shot, look at the camera, as you would when seducing someone.”
Instead of looking at the lens, Hyunjin's gaze finds yours first. With a deliberate slowness, his eyes trace the contours of your form, sending delicious shivers down your spine. His pupils dilate, his gaze darkens, before he reluctantly tears his eyes away, finally shifting his focus to the camera.
it takes you a few beats longer to find your voice once again.
“Hold still, one… two… three,” you murmur, capturing a few shots, pausing for a few seconds to admire the warmth of the light bouncing off his honeyed skin. “Perfect.”
“Me or the picture?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll yours in response.
“The photographer.”
“You’re right, you're perfect,” he replies simply, and you're momentarily taken aback, your eyes widening slightly. He notices, a small smile playing on his lips as you grab his hand to adjust his pose.
“You aren't allowed to speak anymore,” you declare, guiding his index finger to his lips while his head rests on his other curled fist. He grins, before his expression morphs into a smoldering gaze, one that blankets your skin in hues of red from its sheer intensity.
“Look at me this time,” you instruct, and he nods obediently, directing his gaze towards you. Though your eyes remain fixed on the lens, you can sense the intensity of his gaze piercing through you—suddenly, the white dress you're wearing feels too sheer to contain the flames ignited by his stare.
“Mm,” you hum in approval as you look at the result. A sweet realization washes over you as you notice the subtle shift in his gaze— does he know his eyes unconsciously soften when they land on you?
With each click of the camera, your nerves dissipate, replaced by a growing confidence as each shot turns out exquisitely. They look worthy of gracing billboards worldwide, a privilege of working with a model as beautiful as him, one who portrays emotions as if they were crafted solely for him to feel.
“Good, let's try an overhead shot now,” you instruct, slinging the camera strap around your neck before climbing into the bathtub, legs on either side of his body. You’re hovering over him as he gazes up at you, his fluttering eyelashes echoing the erratic beat of your heart.
Your eyes briefly trace the contours of his now-translucent white shirt, a veil that delicately clings to his form, accentuating the sculpted lines of his physique—the arc of his v-line melding seamlessly into the fabric of his trousers. He possesses the body of a masterful dancer, a muse Michelangelo himself would have revered.
“Take off your shirt,” you suddenly request, and though your words are met with a quirked eyebrow, he obliges effortlessly. With a fluid motion, he peels the garment from his frame, sending it sailing across the bathroom's expanse.
“Good?” he questions but you remain silent because words have suddenly become beyond your grasp. Your client's request for a portrait suddenly feels inadequate and you almost itch to cancel it, because you know it won't exude the same beauty as Hyunjin’s. For each fiber of his being flusters you, makes you hyper aware of your every pulse point and how they all come together to chant Hyunjin’s name.
“Look up at me as you lean back,” you finally say, positioning the camera directly above his head. With each click, your heartbeat speeds up even more at the sight— collarbones and arms bathed in the play of light and shadow, his long, wet hair cascading over broad shoulders, and worse of all, a faint smirk that graces his placid face, as if he's aware of how breathtaking he looks in this moment.
“Should I do this?” he asks, picking up a rose and brushing its dewy petals against his lips. You swallow hard, nodding meekly before swiftly capturing a few more frames.
Emotions twist you into a peculiar being, yearning for your very soul to liquefy, transforming into the water droplets adorning the rose's petals, longing to caress Hyunjin’s lips too.
Hyunjin suddenly straightens his posture, hands coming to rest gently on your calves, fingers dancing along the hems of your dress with a delicate touch.
“How’d I do? Do I look good for you?” he asks and your knees weaken beneath you, his words rendering you a merciless leaf, swayed by the fiery winds he commands, with his words, with his touch, with his eyes, all solely on you.
“For me?” you echo, and he nods, his hand moving languidly up and down your leg, pausing delicately at your knee.
“Mm. You're the only one I want to impress.”
Your response escapes your being breathlessly. “And why is that?”
“Didn't you ask me not to speak?” he grins, running a hand through his hair. Swiftly, you place your camera on the counter before kneeling down, your thighs now brushing against his own.
“Speak,” you command, and in an instant, he seizes your waist, drawing your body close until you're straddling him, legs enveloping his middle.
“Say it again,” he whispers, and you thread your fingers through the strands of his hair, gently tugging at the edges until his head tilts back, exposing the expanse of his neck.
“I said…” you trail off, leaning in until your nose grazes the warmth of his skin.
Being this close to Hyunjin isn't unfamiliar to you; your interactions have always teetered on the brink of almost-kisses, your bodies drawn together like magnets, two halves of an orange yearning to reunite.
Yet, this moment feels different, much more fateful, as if the universe has granted you one final opportunity—to finally ignite in passion or perish into ash.
“Tell me. I want to know,” you urge, your voice a whisper against his skin, laden with unspoken desires.
“Because... I like you a lot. So much that you're the only one I think of all day. And I want you to like me too. I feel like I need it to breathe.”
His response catches you off guard with its vulnerability, the intimacy it drapes on this moment. The water envelops your intertwined bodies as your hands find solace atop his chest, his rapid heartbeat seeping into your palm.
“I always forget how to breathe around you,” you confess, a sheepish smile gracing your lips. The grin that blooms on his face is radiant, casting a glow on the room that cannot be replicated by artificial lighting.
“If you forget how to breathe, I'll give you all my oxygen,” he promises, his thumb tracing gently across your cheekbones. You see the sun in his smile, feel its warmth in his words that burn you. “I think it always belonged to you anyway,” he murmurs, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I think... I wanna give you back what's yours. Would you let me, pretty?” he asks, his voice a tender plea.
And amidst all the planets you know and the countless universes that may exist, you cannot fathom a single one where your answer would be anything but yes.
“Please,” you whisper, and his lips crash against yours in a fervent dance.
Your lips part before swiftly meeting again, and you close your eyes, surrendering to a world where all your senses converge to breathe Hyunjin in—your hands exploring the contours of his chest, your mouth savoring the sweetness of his lips infused with your cherry chapstick, your nose inhaling his scent, a delicate blend of vanilla and tobacco pulling you into a dizzying dance, your ears catching the gentle rhythm of his breaths and the faint thud of his heartbeat, all resonating within you.
And you don't need your eyes to see Hyunjin; he's indelibly etched behind your eyelids from all the time you've spent admiring him before.
“Fuck,” he whispers as he draws back, “I should have kissed you much sooner.”
“Mm?” you grin, intertwining your hands behind his neck, “Was it that good?”
“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”
“Then show me,” you grin, a playful glint in your eyes.
His gaze sparkles with mischief, his lips curling into a self-assured smirk, his hands finding your waist once more. Breathing is not necessary if it gives you Hyunjin in the end.
“Oh, I will.”
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mochiiniko · 26 days
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feels like youre running out of holy places
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took one look at this scene and immediately started drawing </3 anyways episode 7 :(
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lightseoul · 1 year
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you and me? really?
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synopsis. mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. they conveniently forget to tell you it’s a double date. (part 2)
cw. gn!reader, gradstudent!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~23 yrs old), mina ashido x kirishima eijirou, fluff
word count. 1.7k words
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Mina whines as you drag her into the bathroom of Kozue—the first red flag you should’ve noticed (who hosts a massive group hangout at an expensive ass restaurant?!)—but you’re far too angry to pay her any mind. She winces in disdain as you finally let her wrist go.
“Where’s everyone else?!” You whisper-shout.
“Uhh.. I might’ve left out a few details about this hangout.”
You can’t believe this girl. “No shit, Sherlock,” you sigh in exasperation. “Mina, you lied to me?”
Her eyes bug out in alarm, “I didn’t! I would never lie to you, you know that. As I said, I just omitted a few details.”
“Let me guess, like the fact that aside from you, me, and Eiji, the only other person attending is Bakugou?”
She lets out a squeak. Of guilt or excitement, you can’t tell.
You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Wipe that grin off your face. And you know he and I don’t really get along! And people can recognize you guys and think we’re on a double date. I barely even know the guy and his PR Team will be coming for my head tomorrow morning.”
“You don’t know that! You only met him once during the end of our patrol. He just gets extra snappy when he’s tired,” she giggles. “Oh, and don’t worry about the press. The chef owes Bakugou one—he offered to clear the restaurant just for tonight.”
You can’t believe your ears. Oh, to have the power and influence of a Pro Hero.
You shake your head in (another form of) disbelief, “So you’re not gonna say anything about you roping me into a double date?”
“Nope!” she exclaims cheerfully, turning her back to exit the bathroom. You follow suit, though unlike her, you’re not done with the conversation.
“How’d you guys manage to rope him into this, anyway?” You’d keep your voice down as you weave through the exquisitely prepped tables, but true to Mina’s word, there’s no one else around except Kirishima and Bakugou, who are seated at the far corner overlooking the city.
“Eiji used the same tactic,” she sing-songs. “He got annoyed earlier when he realized his predicament, but Eiji managed to talk him into staying. Said it would be cruel to leave you as our third wheel, or something.”
You chuckle despite yourself. Mina turns to grin at you.
“Right on.”
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Turns out, dinner’s not half as bad as you thought it would be.
And regarding Bakugou? Well, the jury’s still out.
You can tell he’s barely fitting into the small chair beside you—which is actually regular-sized but dwarfs in comparison to his hulking figure—visibly uncomfortable.
He’s sporting a black long-sleeve, rolled up to his forearms, and slacks in light of the semi-formal dress code—the very code you panicked over earlier upon realizing that you didn’t have anything to wear. Luckily enough, you managed to dig out a good enough LBD, and opted to dress it up with some gold accessories you’ve had since college. And now you look even more like you’re on a date: matching colors and all. Great.
Kirishima, ever trusty Kirishima, just had to talk about your awkward situation among the group. (Which was incredibly unnecessary. Why not just ignore the elephant in the room?)
“We just missed the both of you!” he exclaims, while Mina, to his left, nods vigorously in agreement. “We haven’t caught up in a while. And, we figured we could be efficient and host a hangout instead—the four of us!”
Bakugou scoffs, looking away, “You guys are such a fuckin’ married couple already, with all that ‘we’ shit ya got going on. Makes me wanna gag.”
Your eyes widen in shock at his brazenness, but you can’t help but let out a stunned laugh.
His eyes flicker to yours at the sound. You could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips turn upward for a second before his infamous scowl took over his face again. Could’ve been amusement, but what’s that to you, right?
Mina pouts at his comment, while Kirishima only laughs wholeheartedly. Both brush it off, though, and you chalk it up to how they’ve gotten used to Bakugou’s bluntness after almost 10 years of seeing each other grow up.
“Anyway,” Mina interjects, “as we were saying, we missed you guys and also, thought both of you could use the company!”
“Ouch..?”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
You turn to address Bakugou, whose eyebrows are so furrowed deep into a scowl you’ve half a mind to press a finger against it so he wouldn’t wrinkle so early. “I think they think we’re lonely.”
You look at the lovebirds, “But thanks, though. I appreciate the thought and your inviting us out. It’s been a while since I took the time off of grad school and working part-time at Manual’s. Though,” you spare Bakugou a glance, who eyes you curiously, “I’m pretty sure he can get all sorts of company if he wanted to.”
What’s meant to be a factual observation turned into a flirtatious comment the second Mina and Kirishima lit up, both piqued with interest. Suddenly, you’re regretting all the life decisions that led you to this moment.
“Oooh, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Mina exclaims, clearly delighted, while Kirishima’s eyes flicker between the both of you, wearing a shit-eating grin.
You can’t bring yourself to look at Bakugou.
“What?” you’re exasperated at this point, “I’m just saying,” you gesture vaguely to the guy in question, “Bakugou’s objectively attractive. The three of you are!”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’m serious!” you spring to your feet, “Hell, your entire UA class is! Well, except for Mineta, I guess.”
You hear a suppressed bark of laughter to your left. Mina and Kirishima are cracking up now, too. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about getting all riled up over their teasing, you sat back down.
“I’m sure all of you have experience and can score just about anyone.” You finish your rant, glad you got to wrap it up nicely before the two could get even further with teasing you about Bakugou in front of Bakugou.
You hear him grunt in response and see him, through your periphery, look down at his fancy plate of Porcini Mushroom Velouté. Finally, someone who agrees. Though, weirdly enough, it didn’t feel as good as you thought it would..
“Sorry for teasing you, Y/N!” Kirishima laughs, albeit quite sheepishly.
Mina nods, “But really, though, we’re glad you could come. Both of you.”
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“Has he texted you yet?!”
You look back at the course syllabus and mountains of textbooks stacked on your desk, and you can’t help but heave a heavy sigh, “Really? This is what you called and dragged me out of my deep work for?”
“Come on!” Mina always sounds so cheerful and perky, talking to her makes you feel like you’re not 5 seconds away from crashing and sleeping through what’s supposed to be a serious study night. “He hasn’t, has he?”
“Well,” you decide to indulge her, “No other man has texted me in the last 24 hours except my Uber driver, so I guess my answer to that is no?”
“Very funny, Y/N. Ha ha.”
You grin in amusement. Two can play at this game.
You can hear her mutter a soft curse at the other end of the line, “Damn that Bakugou! He’s sure taking his sweet old time. After all that trouble of getting him to accept your number.”
“Cut it off, Mina. You should’ve tricked someone else who could actually be a good match for him instead of me.”
“What?!” she actually sounded shocked, “I didn’t choose you because you were convenient!”
“Thanks,” you deadpanned.
“Y/N! Sure, tricking you into joining was convenient, because you are both my and Eiji’s best friend, though I don’t think I need to explain that.”
“Sure, go on.”
You can practically hear Mina roll her eyes, “FY fricken I, both Eiji and I think you and Bakugou are a great match. You’re both driven, smart, and no-nonsense individuals who think they’re too busy and grown for romance.”
“That honestly sounds like a recipe for disaster, Mina.”
“People like you think that! But trust me, once you find the one, romance doesn’t seem so bad after all!”
“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble. “The lack of texts says enough. He probably just doesn’t think I’m interesting. So cut it off, please?”
You should’ve known better than to expect Mina to let things go just like that.
“Didn’t you see how he reacted when you called him attractive? He got so embarrassed, all red in the neck and ears. Eiji and I couldn’t stop talking about it last night—we’ve rarely seen him like that.”
You huff in slight irritation (and embarrassment), “It’s because you guys wouldn’t stop teasing us. I’d be flustered too if my friends kept tormenting me like that.”
Mina cackles, “Well, you were the one that gave us classic material to work with.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“No, wait!”
You sigh for the nth time in this conversation, “I was busy trying to hype you up and convince all of you of your attractiveness, thank you very much. So no, I didn’t see his reaction.”
“Yeah, that was very kind of you,” Mina exhales wistfully. “Anyway, I’d dare say he even got disappointed when you started complimenting me and Eiji too!”
You could only hear a second of her high-pitched laugh before clicking the End Call button.
Normally, hanging up on your best friend would make you feel bad, no matter how angry or annoyed you were at her.
But this? This is an emergency.
You clutch your heart, which is now hammering at an alarmingly faster pace than normal.
Fuck, you think to yourself. You cannot be crushing on Bakugou Katsuki.
Before you can spiral and go into an I-can’t-have-a-crush-much-less-on-a-pro-hero-named-Bakugou-induced panic, your phone chimes, indicating a new text message.
You bring it up to eye level, and you can’t help but gawk when you finally see the message content.
Hey, it's Bakugou.
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koishiro · 12 days
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# - 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ — 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Toji Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki, Kento Nanami
masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist
Satoru Gojo
Gojo has no shame, you should know this. It’s no surprise to anyone when they see the jujutsu teacher just waltz over in his usual long strides and (quite aggressively) places his head on your lap. And if you ignore him? Ohohoho he’d be a menace. From nudging his head on your stomach, to biting the soft plush of your thighs, all for you to run your fingers through his hair.
He enjoys laying on your thighs a little too much since he literally won't get up even if you have to go do something important.
“Satu, I have to get up”
“‘M? Later”
“Don’t you have a class to teach?”
“They can wait”
Suguru Geto
Suguru would be slightly more subtle than Gojo, but still pretty affectionate. You’d often find him reading a book or two later followed by a complaint of how stiff and achy his back and neck were which led you to now, sitting down on your shared couch and contentedly scrolling through your phone until you felt an unfamiliar weight weigh down on your lap.
Temporarily turning your attention to the man now taking place on your lap, a book in one hand while the other absentmindedly toyed with the fabric of your shirt, you stared at him for a moment until your burning gaze tore his attention away from his book, as if you were the one to invade his personal bubble.
“Hm? Yes darling? Are you not considering the pain and backache I’ve been going through for this book? Have some sympathy, I thought this would be better for my posture.”
Yuji Itadori
This boy would be so oblivious, not even realising the effect he had on you. He would be in the middle of talking about Human Earthworm 4 and would first start to lean his body weight on your shoulder before gradually moving down to your lap, even going as far as to readjust you and your position just like a pillow.
It would only occur to him what position he’s actually in when his one sided conversation starts to die off, now realising how his head and hands are tucked between your plush thighs - skin on skin contact.
“O-Oh uhm - I’m so sorry!
Megumi Fushiguro
Don’t expect this to ever happen in public but in the privacy of your own home? Megumi would be severely more touchy when he’s tired so when he’s exhausted? He’ll have no shame. Dragging his feet through the threshold of his dorm, his bag being dragged not too far behind he makes a beeline towards his bed where the outline of non other than his lover was hidden beneath the covers.
Leaving his bag behind, Megumi navigates his way towards the warmth of your body before toeing off his shoes and slipping his way between your legs, arms tucked beneath the plush of your thighs. Asking about his day you had to strain your ears to hear his response
“‘missed you. Wanted to come home earlier but Gojo was an ass. R’lly missed your warmth.”
Toji Fushiguro
This man has no shame. If you’d be sitting a centimetre too far for his liking you best know he’s gonna clamp his large hands down on you and drag you to where he likes. He’d even go as far as to lift your legs over his own thighs and (like a cat) paw at the skin of your thighs.
So when you happen to pass by his chair while he’s in the middle of a slightly less than exciting conversation he was having with a name he couldn’t even remember of course his first instinct is to reach out and pull you down, caging you between his two arms - his hands nicely warmed between your two thighs before they ventured and groped at any available skin.
“Stay nice ‘n pretty f’me kay? Don’t wanna make this guy uncomfortable do ya? ‘N keep your pretty mewls to yaself until we get home hm?”
Toge Inumaki
Bby boy just wants to be comforted okay? Is that too much to ask for? He’d already be so comfortable around you that he wouldn’t think twice about what he was doing.
You both could be lying down outside, one or both reading a book and after a while of resting in the same spot for hours on end he’d struggle to find a comfortable spot and the next best thing to a patch of grass? His lover of course. Toge would slowly shift his way towards you so you’d end up as a mesh of bodies resembling a ‘T’. A few squeezes to your thighs every now and then followed by a series of onigri ingredients,
“I should do this more often, you’re much more comfy than any pillow I’ve owned. My own portable neck pillow.”
Kento Nanami
This wouldn’t happen often at the start of your relationship with Kento considering he’s never had to (quite literally) lean on anyone before but it never bothered you, you knew before you threw yourself into the relationship that he’d take some time to warm up and you were right because slowly after months of quick pecks and fleeting touches - the unfamiliar weight of your boyfriends head leaned on your shoulder. The tired eyes and dark bags beneath his eyes said all you needed to know.
“Tired?” With a grunt of agreement, clearly too tired to even lift his head, you lead him down to rest on your lap where he stayed without complaint until hours later when the sun shone through the living room curtains and the blanket you managed to reach and place over top you both before swiftly joining him lay on the floor long forgotten. Nanami would all but bury his face deeper between your thighs - chasing the warmth they emanated while his hands found closure beneath them.
“Please, don’t move. At least not yet.”
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scealaiscoite · 2 months
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exes to lovers prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱
-ˏˋ. dialogue ˊˎ-
¹⁾ “there probably isn’t a worse possible time in the world for me to bring this up, but i wanted to tell you how sorry i am for how things ended.”
²⁾ “i miss us. is that weird to say?”
³⁾ “they’re not good for you.” “and what would you, of all people, know about being good for me?!”
⁴⁾ “it’s hard to not fall back into old habits. everything just feels so familiar with them, y’know? it feels like going home after a long day and finally feeling safe again.”
⁵⁾ “i want to try again.”
⁶⁾ “i think we’re always going to end up finding our way back to each other.” “that’s what i’m afraid of.”
⁷⁾ “i can’t help but find it terribly funny that you think you’re in any position to give me dating advice.”
⁸⁾ “we used to live together. are you telling me that staying the night in the same place is too close a proximity for us to share?”
⁹⁾ “we’ve both changed so much. i can’t help but wonder what we’d be like together now.”
¹⁰⁾ “maybe the fact we have such a hard time staying away from one another says something.”
-ˏˋ actions / scenarios ˊˎ-
¹⁾ running into each other at a place they used to frequent together as a couple
²⁾ slipping up and calling them by a nickname/petname in conversation
³⁾ hearing of their new partner, and feeling inexplicably sad
⁴⁾ neither of them having an s/o to spend the following holiday with, so they resolve to just spend the day together
⁵⁾ giving their new partner advice on how to treat them, and it resulting in a row when the other person finds out
⁶⁾ finding out that the other has kept an item of clothing belonging to them, by accidentally running into them whilst they’re wearing it
⁷⁾ their friends and family taking bets on how long it’ll be before they get back together
⁸⁾ both getting set up on blind dates - only to arrive, and realise they’ve been paired with one another
⁹⁾ one character being given advice by a friend about moving on, and accidentally being overheard by their ex who was trying to build up the courage to make amends
¹⁰⁾ gravitating towards each other when in need of comfort after a stressful/traumatic experience
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laurzzz · 3 months
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Robo-Boyfriends AU - Sleeping
Tap for better quality!
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Not to toot my own horn but... this whole piece looks like an official poster print for something lol. Anywaaaay, made this bc I wanted a new phone wallpaper 👍
I think I'mmana keep this look for RBAU Y/N
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