trashsimp

[trashsimp]

HIII can i req for an alnst guys x mua!reader (afab) ? i want to touch their faces ╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

“you like the pretty boys, with the pretty voice!”

show: alien stage

characters: till, ivan and luka

summary: he doesn’t just need to sing his best, he has to look his best too! producers have decided on pairing you up with him, meaning you would be spending lots of time tending to his physical appearance.

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, till has never felt the touch of a woman before

↣ till

the door of his room opens, making till stand up cautiously from his bed. he was already forced into his outfit for today’s photoshoot, and now he awaited the dreadful makeup process.

you show up in the doorway, a girl around the same age as till, with a bag of items and a few electronics. “morning, till.” you say, walking in and placing your things on the desk. he visibly relaxes. “don’t you look good today.”

“shut up…” he mumbles back, walking over to you. he sits down in the chair you pull out, seating him in front of the mirror.

“okay, so i got told that you need a more bold look for the photoshoot today.” you claim, placing your hands on his shoulders, “you gonna’ let me do my work or are we gonna’ have another argument?”

“you can do whatever, i don’t even care anymore.” he groans, sick and tired of all these brand deals. his owner was running him dry with everything he was made to be doing recently. “do your magic.”

“good.” you say, opening your bag. you pick up one of the devices you brought with you, tossing it up into the air. it blossoms, opening up to show a ball of light coming from the centre. you point it towards till, getting a proper view of his face. “seems like the skincare routine i gave you is working.”

“isn’t it bad to keep putting all these things on my face?” he grumbles, feeling you grasp his chin. he averts his eyes while you inspect his face, gentle hands on his cheeks.

“not these ones.” you claim, feelings his cheeks heat up under your touch. you smile at him. “but it’s not like you really needed it anyway. the producer just said to get you on them. i thought you were already quite handsome.”

he closes his eyes, pulling back and running fingers through his hair. “anyway, what are we doing now?” he clears his throat, trying to calm down his heart.

“oh, right.” you say, taking the other device and turning it on, making a swivel stool for you to sit on. you move closer towards him, knee bumping with his. “okay, close your eyes for me, pretty boy.”

“stop it…” he mutters to you, doing as you say and leaning forward into your hands.

he’s patient with you, in a way that he isn’t with anyone else. which is why you were matched with him, he didn’t swear at you or thrash around. you made him out to be a tamed puppy, sitting as he waits for your touch. you found it cute.

you brushed your fingers against his jaw, making him itch closer to you. his hands grip the bottom of his chair, breath hitching as you dragged the brush along his face. you were delicate with him, holding his face and turning it when you needed. and he was willing to let you do whatever you needed.

“okay, that looks good.” you hum, retracting your hands. he always follows, but opens his eyes to stare at you. “let me do your lashes now. just some mascara, that’s all.”

you see the sour look on his face, making you roll your eyes. as you do your work, till sits quietly, careful not to move. you hold his jaw in your hand, focusing on your hands. but his head is running with how close you are to him. if he were to lean any closer, you would be kissing the guy…

instead, you lean back, bringing the light closer to his face. “ah, sorry, i got some on your cheek.” you huff, taking out a makeup pad.

you brush it against where you had smudged mascara on him, holding his face closer to yours. he’s entranced by your beauty. how your eyes are so focused on him and nothing else, how you smile at him after finished a part of his makeup. you were the most beautiful person to him.

he feels your knee knock against his inner thigh, making him look at you sheepishly. you were digging through your bag for the eyeliner and eyeshadow, claiming that he needed dark colours.

“i think we should go with black.” you say, holding out some palettes, “pick one, any will look good on you.”

he doesn’t even look at them for long, just picking out the one in the middle. you smile at him and nod your head, beginning the next stage. it takes a bit longer, till unable to keep still with how your legs are touching his, and your hands are tenderly holding his cheek. his brows knit unconsciously and you stop.

“till, relax. i can’t do your makeup like that.” you sigh, tilting your head, “i’m nearly done, promise.”

he tries to do so, resulting in upturned brows. your hold was too much! “i’m sorry, y/n, i’m just… i don’t know.”

“hm. it’s okay, i’ll be coming with you to the photoshoot.” you inform him, making till perk up a little. you do a few more touches before setting down the brush, inspecting your work and nodding your head. “there you go.”

he open his eyes and looks in the mirror. he looked pretty good, you were so skilled. “thank you, y/n.”

he turns back to you, seeing how you were already staring back at him. you were still so close, not wavering at all.

“you’re welcome, handsome.” you chime, grinning at him. you caress his cheek for a few seconds before beginning to pull away.

but till lurches forward, pressing his lips to yours. his eyes are squeezed shut, so overwhelmed with emotions. the electricity built up with every single touch you gave him, lingering or not. you had to have known what you were doing to him, you were so purposeful!

your hand returns to his jaw, gently holding him as you kissed back. till’s hands sit just beneath your waist, on top of your legs as he drags you closer. he needed more of your touch.

till goes from eager and rough to smooth and calm in a few seconds, slowing down and pulling away almost hesitantly. he is still in a daze, staring at your lips as you both gather your thoughts. and when he does, he widens his eyes and pulls away hastily.

“i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to!” he yelps, covering his face. he couldn’t believe himself, when did he have that much courage around you? his voice is muffled behind his hands, and his eyes are squeezed shut. “that was a mistake, please forgive me—”

you smooch his knuckles covering his mouth, a short but sweet one. he stops, freezing up at your warmth.

“it’s fine, till.” you say, grinning at him, “i liked it a lot. but i… i kind if ruined your make up a bit. let me fix it, okay?”

he drops his hand and lets you hold his face again, picking up your brush to do your touch ups. but he squeezes his eyes shut again and has to look away as soon as you’re finished. you looked even more beautiful! how could this be happening?

“till,” you say, putting your things away in your bag, “don’t be embarrassed.”

“i’m not!” he mumbles back at you, standing up, “let’s go now!”

you have to chase him down after packing away your things, seeing how red his face was. till swears he will never look you in the eye ever again.

↣ ivan

“oh, there you are.” you say, leaning against your makeup desk. the door shuts behind him, making the sound of people on the other side quiet down. “took you long enough, ivan.”

“the costumes were mixed up.” he explains, tugging at his collar to loosen it up.

you pull out the chair for him, letting ivan sit down before you set him in front of the mirror. “you know you’re not supposed to keep a girl waiting.” you joke, sitting on top of the desk and unlocking the box of makeup.

“you say that as if she isn’t obligated to wait for me.” he huffs at you, leg over his knee. he glances at your irritated face. “so what are you doing to me today?”

“clean look.” you reply, popping open the foundation.

he nods his head, watching as you take a sponge and begin to apply it on his face. you were gentle with him, slowly moving his chin to face where you needed him to face. you eyes barely strayed from him, and to say he didn’t enjoy the attention would be a lie.

one of the reason he was happy to be paired up with you was because you paid such close attention to him. when trialing to be his makeup artist, you brought him some tea to help with his throat. he asked you how you knew he liked that flavour, and you told him you saw him drink it last week. from then on, he had been stuck to you like glue.

the guy lets you do what you need to, staying as still as possible. but he opens an eye when you let out a groan. “what’s wrong?”

your fingers leave him face, almost taking all his warmth with you, as you crane your neck. “no, nothing. just hurts my neck.” you explain, hopping off the desk.

ivan blinks as you come closer to him, holding his chin in your hands to make him look up at you. you stood in between his legs, makeup brush in your other hand. ivan leans back in his chair, putting out his other leg as you come so close that his chest is nearly touching you.

“close your eyes again, okay?” you mumble out, going back to your work. you hold the back of his neck to soothe the position of his head, picking out a good colour for him. as you finish, you feel ivan’s warm hands place themselves on your waist, holding you in position. “is something wrong?”

“hm? oh, nothing.” he replies, brushing his thumb against the hem of your shirt. you shiver at the touch, hastily placing a hand on his to stop him. he opens his eyes again, seeing your flustered expression. a smile tugs at his lips. “are you alright?”

“y—yeah…” you mumble out, carefully taking your hand off his. you sigh out, trying to finish off what you needed to do. ivan is quiet, smile still on his face as you work. “okay. i’m done.”

your fingers leave his face. but you don’t get very far before he takes your hand in his. his lips press against your knuckles, gently and cautiously. you freeze up, holding your breath and staring at him. his other hand holds you in place, keeping you close to him.

he peers at you from his seat, a certain glint in his eyes. “thank you, y/n.” he mumbles against your hand.

you hold your hand close to your chest as he releases you. “what’s going on today, ivan? you’re more touchy than usual.”

“is that bad?” he asks, tilting his head.

“no, it’s not bad.” you explain, taking your brushes and putting them in the box. you could feel your face flushing, you couldn’t turn back to him. you knew he would be wearing that clueless smile. and you would be stammering for your words. “so, um… is this the only thing you’re filming today?”

“yes.” he replies, watching as you carefully put everything away. even in the mirror, you don’t look at him. “are you busy for the rest of the day?”

“no, actually. i’m heading back after this.” you say, grabbing your jacket and tugging it on. after taking a breath in, you turn to him. “i’ll tell them you’re ready.”

ivan stands up, running fingers through his hair before stepping closer to you, his hands finding your jaw. you freeze up, shivering under his touch. your lower back hits the desk, making you lay hands on the wood. he makes you feel like you’re going crazy.

“you’re gorgeous, you know.” he mumbles out, staring at you with piercing eyes.

“uh, thank you, ivan, i—hmph!”

he captures your lips in a single moment, holding onto your shoulder gently. your hands find his face again, caressing him as you slowly melt into him. your eyes flutter shut as his do, feeling overwhelmed with such warmth that you find yourself chasing after him when he pulls away.

ivan chuckles, leaning forward once more to peck you on the lips again. you open your eyes, stunned. “why did you—”

“i should go now, it’ll be starting in five minutes.” he says, checking the clock. ivan leans away, gathering himself and fixing his hair in the mirror behind you before moving to the door. he stops with his hand on the doorframe as it slides open. “i’ll see you after, okay?”

you nod your head slowly, gulping down your nerves.

“good.” he smiles, walking out of the room, “see you, y/n.”

↣ luka

“good job, luka.” you compliment him, waiting in the wings for him to come off stage. he pants, wiping sweat off his brow. you smile, holding pit a towel. “ready for makeup? full dress rehearsal today.”

“right.” he huffs out, patting his face dry. he follows you to his dressing room, feeling a little tired. “what have you been up to?”

“waiting for you.” you respond, opening the door and closing it behind him. he sighs, tiredly sitting in the makeup chair by the mirror. you blink at his state, walking over and placing a hand on his cheek. he stirs. “oh, luka… how much sleep did you get last night?”

“not much.” he groans, rubbing his eyes. you furrow your brows, retracting your hand. “it’s fine. let’s start.”

you blink at him before nodding, beginning your work. luka was probably the best one of your clients when it came to makeup, he cared a lot about his appearance, and he appreciated your work. the only difference with now is that he isn’t giving you some snarky remark or flirting with you through his eyes. he was genuinely sleepy.

“lift your head up higher, luka.” you say, taking the brush away from his face. he only hums out to you, eyes still closed. “luka.”

sighing, you step closer to him, taking his face in your hand and holding his chin up higher. he doesn’t make a sound, only leaning into your palm. “you seriously need to take a nap.”

“mhm.” he says, placing his hands on the back of your knees gently. you squirm in your spot, making him peer open an eye. “i have practice though.”

“it’s a shame.” you sigh, brushing your thumb against his cheek, “you look so pretty when you’re sleeping.”

“creep.” he mutter out.

you roll your eyes, moving the brush tip around his eyelids. he stills for a moment. “i think i overheard one of the producers saying you were losing your voice and that you’re on vocal rest.” you claim, “so shouldn’t you be keeping quiet?”

he nods his head at that after you pull away, his thumbs drawing on the sides of your legs. his blue fingers dance along your pants, listening to you move around. you were delicate with him, no matter how much trouble he caused you. the first time you did his makeup, he complained that he didn’t like it and refused to perform.

but now, he was astounded by how you carefully pat your thumb against his temple, as if soothing him.

“you’re much more bearable when you’re quiet.” you sigh, “it’s such a shame that you’ve got such a pretty voice, and you use it to be annoying.”

he furrows his brows, lifting his head away from you. his eyes open to see your smile. luka rolls his eyes at you, running fingers through his hair. you turn away to grab something from your bag, popping open the bottle and getting ready to use it.

“since you can’t talk, i’ll let you know that i was at mizi’s practice yesterday.” you explain, being careful not to smudge your work as it dries. luka lets out a small sigh. “she was telling me about how she misses homemade food. i told her that she and sua should come over to mine and i’ll make something for them.”

he peeps open an eye again, giving you a look. you raise a brow and sigh, “you said my cooking was good.”

you lift your finger from his cheek, applying the most palest pink you have on him by a loose brush. his skin was so smooth, making your job a lot easier since it wouldn’t take much to make him look presentable.

“it is.” he mumbles out, suddenly moving his arms to lay atop your hips. you sigh through your nose, annoyed at how he ignores his orders to keep quiet. “why’re you cooking for them? they don’t know how to?”

“i didn’t say that, luka.” you huff, pushing his hair off his forehead, “i actually heard from till that mizi is a great cook.”

“that boy only ever sings praises about her.” luka rolls his eyes. you chuckle, knowing he was right. the blonde hugged you closer to himself, cheek squished against your stomach. “what has she ever done to deserve it?”

“don’t be mean. so jealous, luka.” you say to him, smiling softly. he peers up at you before tilting his head.

“me? jealous of her?” he scoffs at you, shaking his head and pulling himself off of you. you were done anyway, now beginning to pack up you belongings. “that’s outrageous of you to say, y/n.”

“seems like it though.” you admit, shrugging your shoulders. when you turn back around to him, luka looks upset. he crosses his arms, pout playing on his lips as he stared at the ground. you sigh, patting his shoulder, “it’s fine, you’re still the world’s favourite human singer.”

“yeah.” he huffs out, barely audible.

you furrow your brows, leaning over and placing a plan on his shoulder. “look, you’re a great singer and you’re handsome. what more could you ask for?”

he mumbles, looking back at you, “do you like me?”

“of course i do.” you reply, scanning his face. he only gives you an unconvinced look. you roll your eyes.

leaning forward to him, you press a chaste kiss to his lips. he stills for a quick second, but soon enough you feel him melt against you. his palm rests against your cheek, pulling you closer. he feels warm when you hold yourself away just enough to kiss him.

his hair has always felt silky smooth. it brushes against your forehead, kissing your skin. his whole body felt like it was pouring itself into you. he wanted to belong.

you pull away before you ruin anymore of his makeup, blinking your eyes a few times at his dazed expression. “i like you, luka.” you say sternly, looking him dead in the eye, “i’m not lying. promise.”

luka thinks to himself for a moment before sighing and standing up. he looks back at you with the tiniest smile. “thanks, y/n.”

“good. now, let’s go. i’ll watch your rehearsals.” you say, patting his back as you walk him to the door. you fix his sleeves, smoothing out the creases.

“good luck, luka.” you chime, standing on the sidelines.

he stares at you for a moment before replying, “thank you.”

[trashsimp]

pops in

VANA. PRECIOUS. THOUGHTS ABT HSR PAPAS 321 GO!

⭒ HONKAI STAR RAIL MEN AS DADS

fem reader x jing yuan, sunday, dr ratio, blade + aventurine ( seperate ) ; fluff. dad au. random papa scenarios for my maryse. petnames used; my dear, my love. ₊ 𓂃 masterlist.

⭒ JING YUAN

it had become a habit of sorts, an adorable one at that, whenever your husband- the well respected general of the cloud knights would insist that he have some time with your daughter to give you a rest from your usual responsibilities. jing yuan would always ask you with the smoothest drawl, kissing along your cheeks while the little one clung around her daddy’s neck and you can’t deny the affect seeing him being so loving with her had on you, you could hardly resist it.

although it did always end up the same way, you’d come home from your errands- your appointments that you finally managed to squeeze in now that he was home on leave for a few days despite the every growing workload he has. but you’d return home to a quiet house, finding the two sleeping figures of your husband and your daughter curled up on the couch after the hard day you’re sure they’ve had.

but they look peaceful, your daughter pressing around jing yuan’s chest while one of her dads muscled arms keep her there with no trouble. it’s impossible for you to not wind up resting in the couch beside them as you curl up against your husbands chest.

you know he’s awake when his lips curl up into a soft grin almost immediately when he feels you press against him, “long day?” you drawl and he groans, quietly as to not wake the sleeping child.

“hah, oh yes, you didn’t see the tea party. our daughters ability to entertain a crowd is quite awe-inspiring.” you feel your husband, jing yuan’s, free arm drop from the back of the sofa to curl around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your cheek is resting softly on his muscled shoulder. you feel the tension from your day melt away as you snuggle into him.

“you mean her plushies?” you laugh softly and your husband finally decides to peek open his sleepy gaze to admire you, followed by a gentle look towards his daughter that’s still sound asleep against him.

“ofcourse, theyre the guests of honour.” jing yuan speaks teasingly, albeit matter of factly as he raises a brow at you and you snort before leaning in to steal a quick peck from his lips. although you struggle to pull yourself away when he decides to hold you there a little longer, lips lingering on yours as he smiles into the kiss.

but eventually, he relents when you tap playfully on his chest, “well, general- i better start cleaning up.” you smile but his arm around your shoulders only seems to lock around you even tighter. you couldn’t move even if you tried as he gets himself comfortable again, moving your daughter softly until he has both of you squished on either sides of his body.

“nonsense, my dear- i just got quite comfortable, so i’m afraid you can’t leave yet.” jing yuan purrs and you give him a look from beneath your lashes when he rolls his head back again, resting his eyes closed despite the way he’s still grinning softly.

“you going to spend your entire leave from work sleeping?” you tease and his chest bounces slightly when he chuckles.

“hm, well nothing is of utmost importance to me quite like spending time my two favourite girls. so, join me?” he murmurs quickly because he knows you can’t ever say no to them. he’s right, you can’t help but find yourself looking over your drowsy little family fondly as you gaze between your husband and your daughter. she’s like a perfect mixture of you both as her cheek squishes against your husbands chest.

it is almost unfair how easy it is to give in to the both of them as you rest your cheek against the other side.

⭒ SUNDAY

you had no doubts that sunday would be a great father, so when you’d been lucky enough to bare two of his children, you felt more at ease than afraid despite the lifestyle change because you knew you would have him there to take care of you. your children resembled your husband most, his halovian genes with their wings and halo, his eyes - they were perfect mixtures of you both.

they’d taken up your mannerisms and personality despite their fathers looks which unfortunately for your husband.. meant he was weaker to them than some may expect from the head of the oak family. you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t caught you off guard too; but you found it to be quite charming whenever you’d be lucky enough to oversee how they were the ones that seemed to be controlling everything around them.

“we have spoken about this before, my dear. dessert must be saved for after dinner, do you remember? but fret not, your meals will be ready soon.” you hear the smooth sound of sundays voice from the kitchen as you push your way through the door, being greeted by your daughter and son standing at his feet as the two young children cross their arms. their expressions are grumpy and temperamental, although you can’t deny that it definitely mirrors an expression of your own as you try to hide your giggle at the scene.

“we don’t want to wait.” “yeah! we want it right now.” your husband squeezes the space between his brows as the two children back eachothers replies, it makes you wonder how long this conversation has actually been going on when he sighs. it was well known that sunday favoured being in control and although your children were well-behaved- they were just smart enough to have picked up on your husbands seemingly weak spot when it was two against one.

“yes, that is quite understandable. but i cannot allow you to have sweets before proper nutrion, that is not how meals are enjoyed, dessert must come after.” sunday tries again as he stands up straighter and you assume it’s an act of trying to appear much like an authoritive figure. although the gesture is met by a few small stomps of tiny feet as they whine.

“daddy, we want dessert now.” “dessert! dessert! dessert!” the children chant and you swear you can see the strings of your husbands sanity begin to pluck and snap as his shoulders drop, his posture hunching slightly with his next sigh.

“f-fine. we will have dessert first this once. but it sh’ant happen again, is that clear?” sunday huffs despite the fact his weak resolve is met with cheers from your children as you hide your laugh behind your palm in the doorway. it was quite amusing to see the head of the oak family and such a well known public figure fall victim to two pre-schoolers.

you hear sunday grumble again as the children wrap themselves around his legs. “yes, yes. your resilience is quite extraordinary.. i wonder who exactly you get that from.” he scoffs and your husbands gaze lifts to meet yours as he says it. suddenly, you feel yourself edging out of the room while you try to hide your laugh.

although you hear three sets of footsteps quickly follow behind you.

⭒ DR RATIO

becoming a father was a role that seemed to come to ratio rather naturally. especially when you were pregnant, he had done some notable research into things that would make you feel better; to ease your illness, any aches or cravings. he’d looked into all of it and doted on your every beck and call despite how straightforward and blunt he came across to others.

although you did find it rather amusing, when you’d come home one day to find your ever loving husband; cross legged in your toddlers bedroom as he read her through a book regarding something that looks like physics or mathematics. the sight was only made even more charming given the way your daughter only seemed to be more preoccupied with putting the corners of the textbook into her mouth instead of actually listening.

but ratio was always a firm believer that intellect and creativity were not confined to geniuses- although he also believed that no child of his would ever fall victim to idiocy either, he’d make sure of it - although you’re sure he’d love them anyway.

“come now, we are not done here yet. class is still in session.” his voice sounds a few seconds later, a little bit louder but still the soft tone he took with your young daughter. despite his usual tone of voice with others, he never once raised his voice at either of you- even though his words are only met with giggles and gurgles from the baby opposite him as she opts to crawl her way closer.

“to learn this from youth is the most efficient method.” ratio states matter-of-factly as the toddler pulls her way into his lap, he helps her albeit slightly, until her tiny hands are able to reach out and touch the pages before her. “or do you have a superior strategy, pray tell?”

your daughter offers him another gurgle, followed by a blown raspberry and another giggle but your husband only seems to hum like he can understand her. you’re sure if you asked him he’d assure you he absolutely can anyway. “yes that seems logically sound.”

“although for now, we shall continue until otherwise proven that this is ineffective.” ratio brings a hand up to smooth it through his hair but the toddler in his lap is quite eager to follow the movement as she tries to pull herself onto her feet, giggling while wrapping herself around your husbands muscled bicep for stability. “the next.. god, the next one is—“ you watch fondly at the way the genius before you wrestles with her slightly, so concerned incase she falls while also opting to just let his daughter climb all over him as he sits with his textbook eagerly open.

but still despite her few words and drifting attention span, he still continues regardless as she gurgles back at him adorably. “now, now- settle down. don’t interrupt your father, even if you are quite cute, it won’t work on me.” ( it’s definitely working on him )

⭒ BLADE

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been atleast a little bit worried about how blade would react to finding out you were pregnant, you were well aware of not only his job but also the person he was. but at the same time, you also trusted him enough given how much love he was able to show you - albeit in his own way.

still, it was a pleasant surprise when your daughter had been born and your lover seemed to have taken his new found position quite well, albeit clumsily. it had taken a while for him to hold her, more out of fear of accidentally hurting or scaring her somehow - but as soon as you finally convinced him to and his touch was met with a very happy, albeit sleepy child; it seems his fear all but evaporated. you’d say he even looked soft in those special moments between father and baby.

blade was a protective father, that much was to be expected and you’re sure even the thought of your daughter dating was enough to send him on a blood-thirsty man hunt. but she was still young and for that he was thankful, her presence alone seems to have softened him up a lot more than you honestly would’ve expected.

but you can imagine even your surprise when you’d stumbled upon your own ( feared by many ) husband resting on the sofa next to your daughter while she clipped sparkly, pink hair clips into his hair. the pair are accompanied by silver wolf as she talks half-heartedly to blade about the upcoming mission. he’s listening, although he’s still quick to follow the child behind hims instructions when she tells him to move over or hold still.

he offers you a look as you approach the three, opting to ignore the giddy smile on your face as another bright pink bow is placed in his hair- although he still leaves a space beside him for you to slot into as always.

it only takes a few moments before your daughter finishes up and she giddily crawls into blade’s lap to snuggle into her fathers chest. your smiling brightly now, he can feel it to the side of him despite the way he deliberately makes no attempt to meet your gaze considering his new hairstyle. “daddy? do you like it?” his child asks eagerly and he grunts before turning his gaze to her.

“yes, it is quite frivolous.” she doesn’t quite understand the word, but she still assumes it means something good as she giggles from her place beneath him. opting to turn around to face away from him a few seconds later before looking back at him over her shoulder.

“kay, you do mine now, daddy!” she says excitedly and blade sends her his usual stoic, unreadable expression as he rests behind her.

“is it necessary?” he grumbles and you nudge at his shoulder with a tsk despite the way your daughter is still seemingly unbothered by his response. she only motions to the leftover ribbons and clips resting at his side before she turns around again, readying herself.

“mhm, then we can match!” you half expect him to say something else, but instead- blade actually opts to reach for one of the clips instead; a reaction that even earns silver wolfs raised brows as he twists the pink sparkly clip between his fingertips.

“hm, i understand. suit yourself.”

⭒ AVENTURINE

aventurine was an amazing father to both of your children, although that was something that you had no doubt about considering how much you knew he would treasure their childhood. they looked like both of you, although they had his eyes and you always found it to be quite magnificent whenever you’d see them blinking up at you, the gaze was quite beautiful and you cherished them immensely.

although given who their father is, it is safe to say that your children are infact spoiled, they’re only dressed in the best clothes ofcourse, have the best toys and accessories. it was one of the ways in which he showed his love for his family, to make sure that you all got whatever you wanted, while also teaching them that what they had should be cherished- so they grew up to be humble.

one thing you’d noticed is that aventurine never hid any parts of his life from them, albeit they were still too young to know the details so as far as they knew; their daddy was just really good at playing games and winning prizes.

he’d even insisted on teaching them how to play cards one night, although the deck of cards ended up falling victim to their artistic doodles a few hours later. but still, your husband couldn’t find it in himself to be mad, instead; the colourful, scribbled deck has become a lucky charm of sorts that he always carries around with him at work or during games.

although today, aventurine has attempted to take the kids to the casino with him, while its still light out to avoid the usual atmosphere that comes with the later night games.

“well this is quite interesting. have you made up your mind yet? turns don’t last forever, you know.” his captivating gaze glints from over his hand, eyeing his opponent intimidatingly as the atmosphere hangs heavy between them. he can pick up on his nervousness, he’s sure he doesn’t have a great card to play - it’s obvious in the sweat along his brow, the way his eyes are darting to each one he holds.

“although it would be quite a shame to lose all of those credits you’ve worked so hard for, wouldn’t it?” still, aventurine teases, his hand isn’t much good either; but aslong as he doesn’t let his opponent know that. this game is as good as his, a piece of cake really. “you should treasure them well, while you can atleast.”

he watches the way his opponents fingertips tremble as they reach for a random card and the gambler scoffs, “it’s all or nothing.” smirking,

“daddy, i like the black spade!” “my favourite is the red diamond, use that one.” the atmosphere in the game is cut suddenly when aventurine’s children suddenly pipe up from where they’re wrapping around his shoulders. although he almost goes pale as soon as they begin to point out his cards, discussing their favourites and what ones he should use like his opponent isn’t suddenly relaxing opposite him at the confession.

“ah, n-now, now. those are daddy’s secret weapons, you’re not supposed to let the man know we have those.” he grins kindheartedly despite the way his hand is suddenly gripping his chips beneath the table. he doesn’t have it in him to snap at them, but he’s pretty sure a little piece of his soul dies when his opponent chuckles. it was a friendly game afterall, just as well, hes been on a winning streak recently.

“but why not! is it bad?” his daughter asks, innocently and aventurine can’t help but soften when he turns to meet them. deciding to place down his cards on the table before he’s taking his hat off of his head and placing it onto his curious daughter’s instead as she blinks up at him. his shoulders relax with how fondly they gaze up at him.

“hah, no it’s… it’s nothing. how about we just go and get some ice cream instead? although.. this nice man was almost the one paying for it.”

[trashsimp]

The day Haruka figured out his romantic feelings for you was the same day he wanted to marry you

The poor ball of anxiety still didn’t know why out of charismatic fun-loving extroverts like Mikoto, a gentleman like Dr. Kirisaki, or even a cool protective guy like Fuuta, you settled for him

Sure he wasn’t the smartest. He knew he was dumb. He knew he was an idiot. Slow, useless, hopeless. But to you? He was the sweetest partner you could’ve been blessed with. He tries, and despite what he thought, he showed to be a fast learner that picked up on your favorite things quickly. He learned to cook your favorite meals, starting out with simple ones and slowly graduating to more romantic and complex dishes. Making you those matching heart necklaces that best friends wear, but replacing the engraving “bff” to “bf + gf” (a little tip Muu gave him when be went to her for advice). Not letting you lift a finger when you got back from work, struggling his way through the housework. It wasn’t until he was bothering you every 5 minutes to ask you if the cleaning was to your liking where you shut him up with kisses

He hugged you everyday and gave you a loving peck on the lips before you headed off to work, waiting for you to get back. It’s almost kinda creepy his eyes seem to have never left the door ever since you left. Spending his money on that bracelet and vanilla scented perfume you loved so much. He rubbed your back when you stressed, mastered the art of latte art whenever he made you coffee, even wrote love letters (thank you our dear love expert, Mahiru Shiina), despite some trouble with making his handwriting look nice

He was honestly perfect, and yet he still thought he was unworthy of you. It didn’t matter if you assured him that he was always worthy of you. Everyday, he’d prove that you wouldn’t regret choosing him

Fast forwarding to a future with all his love language skills aced, he couldn’t help but smile as he reminisced on how far he came. He…was proud of himself, seeing the food he prepared for you after you’ve gotten back from a long day of work. The gold band decorated his lanky finger, as the diamond studded ring glistened on yours when the dining room’s light kissed the translucent gem. He looked down, seeing the baby girl in his arms. He was never fond of children at first, at least that was until you managed to change his mind. He wasn’t afraid anymore. He had no reason to be. As long as he had you

Haruka still didn’t know why you chose him. But maybe he didn’t need to know

[trashsimp]

Hharuka sakurai x reader. cuddling prettt pelasse

Sakurai Haruka x Reader

Summary : the TV's on! And now you're cuddling with your favourite person.

Note : er..... Hey guys.. Sorry for being super late I ended up travelling outside the city then lost data for weeks^_^ I'm back now (hopefully) and writing down the requests in my inbox so yeah

──────────────────────────────

The noises in the tv were drowning out your thoughts as you pat Haruka's shoulder. The two of you were cuddling with each other while watching a new TV show you recommended.

You took a look at Haruka's face and he watched the show quietly, listening in on the characters talking to each other. You looked back to the tv and a blue bunny character appears on the screen.

You giggle to yourself and Haruka notices the sudden noise. "What's wrong?" He asked. You shook your head and told him there was nothing wrong, and that a character just reminded you of a certain person.

"Oh, is it the boy with red hair?" He points to the screen, referencing Fuuta. You let out a laugh on accident then immediately cover your mouth. ".. Did I say something wrong?.." He looks at you worried.

You pat his head and told him that wasn't the case, and it was actually because he made a great point. He didn't completely understand where you were coming from but smiled nonetheless.

After a few seconds of silence you opened up again and told him the rabbit with the blue palette reminded you of him. He looks at the screen again and takes a good look at the character. He didn't see the resemblance, but at the same time he does.

Maybe you meant by looks? But he's not exactly a rabbit?

"Do you mean that I look like it or?.." You shook your head and told him how you just 'get' that vibe. He was confused, but you were smiling as you said that, so he took it as a compliment.

He smiled joyfully to himself as he looks back at the screen, you looked at him while trying to contain your desire of squishing his cheeks and stretching them.

You both sit in silence as you watch the show continue to run.

──────────────────────────────

Note : AGGGGGHGHG?!! This is so short and looks so lazy I'm so sorry haruka fans💔

[trashsimp]

The Sano's Baby

"He's mine!" "He's not!" "Yes!" "No!" "Shinichiro!" "Shin-chin!"

you quickly make your way into the living room, the still cold pan and spatula in either hand when you find the three small siblings quarreling over who gets to hold 'mini shinichiro' first. you sigh, setting the utensils on the small coffee table before kneeling before the children.

"emma, mikey, izana." you acknowledge the three of them and they each give you a wide eyed guilty look.

"the baby-" "mini shinichiro." mikey interrupts you to clarify his name.

you can't help the smile that takes over your entire face, the sweetness of the given name all three polar opposite siblings agreed upon too pure not to.

"mini shinichiro is sleeping and needs to stay that way so that he can grow up to be strong and play with you." emma nods as if she knew this all along and gives both boys a glare.

"can i share my taiyaki with him when he wakes up?" mikey questions genuinely, the small bag containing the dessert surely squeezed within his hoodie's pocket.

"he doesn't have any teeth you idiot!" izana's yell is what does the job, the baby's yawn and small cry announce he's been woken up.

emma can't help the excited squeal she lets out before quickly covering her mouth with both hands and looking up at you innocently.

"i'm sorry." izana is harshly tugging on your sleeve and you turn to find his gentle eyes brimming with big fat tears. you gently wipe the spilling ones away and give his cheek a little kiss letting the vulnerable boy know you're far from angry.

"fine, lets go get mini shinichiro then." you say avoiding thinking about all the chores you could no longer do with the baby on your hip. making your way across the room the three kids follow after you in a line formation like little ducklings, they truly made you want to cry.

you reach into the basket, your little bundle of joy is struggling against the blanket as he tries to stretch his small body. when you pull him out the room is filled with 'ooh's and 'ah's, sticky hands tug on your shirt and jeans for you to lower him within their reach.

you squat and all three huddle around him, emma traces soft circles on the baby's cheek and when he laughs she looks like she'll burst with joy. mikey tries to be discreet but when he pokes the baby's cheek and the baby lets out a delighted sound he does a little excited jump, he felt like the coolest uncle ever. izana is surprisingly the softest, he combs the little black curls away before planting a kiss on the baby's forehead. the baby retaliates by grabbing a fistful of izana's hair and giggling sending all of the children into a fit of laughter.

shinichiro comes later that evening, he's exhausted from a grueling day at work but the sight of you is one for the books. he silently leans against the wooden door frame and sighs, you stand over the dishwasher, the baby is resting against your side and his three siblings are at your legs. emma hugs your thigh while mikey and izana lean over the sink as best as they can to rinse the soapy plates you hand them.

"so do you guys want another little sister?"

you fling the sponge at him with a scoff and all three of the children rush over to shinichiro chanting their excited replies.

[trashsimp]

Another Shin and Mikey doodle ;_;

[trashsimp]

[trashsimp]

THIS LOVE IS GOOD- H. KAZUTORA

✦ synopsis ↷ Yours and Kazutora’s love during the years

✦ pairing ↷ Hanemiya Kazutora x Baji’s step-sister!f!reader (everyone alive au!)

✦ cw ↷ teenagers smoking (they’re 18), lovesick tora, arson (it’s baji), mentions of kazu’s backstory, high school settings, time-line isn’t clear but there are a few time-skips, kazu has insecurieties, yn too, wedding, baji is the best big bro!!, kazu has two kids who are two copies of him! lazy-beta reading

✦ note ↷ happy b-day my bby tiger!!! i want to give you all the love of this world!!! a bit sappy for tora, i love him sm! hope you like it!!

kei and kotone

reblogs and comments are appreciated!!!

Kazutora wasn’t fond of his birthday, he doesn’t remember a happy birthday from his early childhood. However, everything changed when he met Baji and you, on the day of his 11th birthday. 

He can still remember Baji’s grin and yours after you three set a car on fire, enjoying the sight of the fire consuming the machine. 

Keep reading

[trashsimp]

a/n: 1.2k. post defection geto, manga spoilers, a little angst, reader also believes in geto’s flawed vision. inspired by above the chinese restaurant by laufey ♡

“(y/n)-san! (y/n)-san!” the girls’ shouts cut through you and suguru’s conversation, and your lover turns to them with an amused smile — about to speak up about something along the lines of interrupting the ‘grown ups when they’re talking’ — but mimiko and nanako doesn’t care one bit, not when they’re finding out about a new dessert place down the street.

life is simple; that is if you factor out the sorcerers at jujutsu high trying to weed you out and kill you, but among the squeezy apartment above the chinese restaurant and the delicious smell of dumplings, you think that life was well this way, even if it was inconvenient. you still remember the bags under suguru’s eyes, the hair that stuck out of all places, and the regret swirling in geto’s irises when he returned bloodied and frozen.

(“i killed them… my parents. i did i—” it doesn’t take long for geto to break down, because you know that he went through all of that, numb. you hold him all through the night that day.)

“(y/n)-san! did you hear what we said?” nanako tugged on your arm and snaps you out of the daze, showing geto’s phone that displayed the colourful crepe store, albeit upside down. giggling, you flipped it around for her and her twin, ruffling her hair.

“yes, i did, honey,” you’re pleasantly surprised when you glance back up at suguru to find him already smiling at the three of you, fond and satisfied. he looks at you like you’re his saviour. “when do you want us to take you?”

that godforsaken day, seeing two young girls caged like animals made geto snap, it made him question if he was actually protecting the right people. and that night as you hear him explain his vision in hushed tones and passionate words, you still his pacing with warm, hypnotising hands on his cheeks. you pull on his heartstrings with your loyalty and love and he promises that he’ll do everything he can for this little broken family.

and do everything he did.

from sourcing for apartments that were out of range of jujutsu high’s radar, to building twin beds for the girls, to debating desperately over what to name the two. seeing suguru in unexpected fatherhood made you smile to yourself all the time, you didn’t think you’d be this lucky to witness all of it. the chair scrapes across the floor before geto stands up, walking over to your side and feeling his arm snake around your waist along with a kiss to your cheek.

“why would you need a dessert when we have (y/n) right here?”

you roll your eyes and laugh as you push him away, opposed to the girls who just pull disgusted faces at your display of affection.

“geto-sama, we don’t love (y/n)-san the way you do,” nanako speaks up, grabbing your hand and pulling you from the chair so much that you’re forced to sit on the floor between the two girls. they’re getting stronger by the day. “we love (y/n)-san like a parent, right, mimiko?”

mimiko was more reserved than her sister, but she gives her verdict anyway, nodding to her sister’s prompt as she curled into your side silently with a small smile. “yeah.”

the failures of jujutsu high — they would often call you, but you hardly felt like one when you hear the laughter of your boyfriend with the girls. you’d even call it content when you hear them playing tag in the living room or feeding each other noodles at the dining-table-slash-kitchen. the proximity felt loving, the thought of giving them a second chance felt right.

because at least if you had your youth taken from you, it was fair that you made sure that no one took away theirs.

“do you think hell is waiting for us?” you mumble to the other that night after putting the girls to sleep, swallowing nervously at the challenges that would arise before the four of you. it seems like geto understands your anxiety, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. even without looking, it feels like the sky is your shared space of vulnerability and camaraderie.

beside you, suguru takes a deep breath before turning to you and placing his forehead on yours. the moment is tender and soft, and below, you can hear the chinese restaurant winding down and closing shop. it’s the end of the day, supposedly calm and still, but your eyes are blurred from the vision of the girls covered in blood, from the vision of the strangely vivid image of geto clutching his side that’s stained his hands red.

“hey, hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” you sniffle, blinking away the tears before your eyes finally lock onto him. they’re downturned and hold the glow of the moon, and you think you can see how his eyes (and him) resemble the floating rock: often wrongly overlooked but striking. you remember how the girls like to pull you along while suguru rests at the back like a tired dad, how they wake you up in the morning and go to sleep in his arms.

they find fun in you and solace in geto.

“nothing— j-just,” you sigh, “i don’t know. i’m just scared.”

geto frowns, hands from your face dipping towards your waist, “will it do you any better if you sit in my lap? hm?”

he’s skillful at using his words, but today he’s a little quieter, settling rather for the feather-like touches of his arms around your middle and the similar kisses upon your jaw. his mouth maps out your skin, a memorisation of something that he can do with his eyes closed, and his embrace tightens when he feels you stifling a smile.

“that’s that smile that i love,” suguru mumbles, finishing his journey and coming to face you again. “i’m scared, too. nothing worries me more than losing the three of you, especially when we’ve only begun this small family.” the word makes you smile, no matter how fucked up it was, but if geto was determined to give you the world, so would you. 

“we’re awfully young for a proposal, but i accept it,” you laugh, pecking his forehead. he savours it, eyes closing and breath halted, and when they open again, you think suguru at the end of the day is the most beautiful — it was what he was the epitome of. the opposite of calamity and the jujutsu world, tranquil and undisturbed like the soothing tides of the night’s oceans.

“i love you.” suguru doesn’t think love is a curse at that very moment despite what his classes before at jujutsu high have taught him. your lips are an inch from his, already sensing his contagious smile before he mutters the confession again. it sounds like something forbidden, but it isn’t. “i love you.”

it is geto suguru’s curse to bear even if he falls and indulges and loves too hard, but it’s a curse he will never forget the taste of even if he lives a million lives and dies a million deaths — it will always lead back to you.

geto is a mass murderer and id still defend my little babygirl. anyway this fuckin hurt to write i wanna give him a hug so bad

[trashsimp]

imagine having to wake up mikey in the mornings but he just. pulls you back into bed instead </3

༊*·˚ 6:15 AM. with manjiro sano.

⠀ — where all he wants is just 5 more minutes.

∴ anything 4 tumblr user guav ♡ (toman!mikey)

the feeling of your duvet hugging your body, keeping you safe from the cool morning air before it became the sun's time to rise and warm the streets was a feeling you could indulge in for ages. the sweet serenity from the mix of temperatures, the soft sheets against your bare legs, your pillow that always seemed to be that much more fluffy in the early hours of dawn. 

it was always more enjoyable with a head of tousled blonde hair plopped on your chest, clutching you just as tight as the tattered blue blanket in his hand.

he made the warmth trapped under the blankets just that much more enticing, how you wished you could share his body heat in your own little world with him forever, curtains closed, thoughts turned off, the rest of the world locked outside of your little bubble.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEE–

the alarm blaring from your phone was a cold, cold reminder that you couldn’t. for you had responsibilities, and places to be. it was truly despicable. 6:15 am, you cursed both the education system for making you rise before even the sun had, and your boyfriend, who could sleep through a small hurricane still peacefully snoozing on top of you. you drummed lightly on his back, making your way up his shoulders and slowly ruffling his hair, placing a kiss to the mess of platinum.

“mikey.” your voice was soft, hushed, you hoped to wake him up peacefully, unlike yourself. you were a fool for thinking that it would work.

“miiikey.” your voice was louder the second time, as well as a little closer to his ear. he stirred, but only for a moment before going back to his quiet snoring. you began to pepper tired kisses all across his face, puffy from sleep, lightly pinching at one of his cheeks alongside them. finally, there was some sign of life from him, as he groaned and hid his face somewhere in your pyjama top.  his response to your quiet: “good mooorning.” was mumbling some incoherent whining into the fabric.

it pained you, it truly did, but you managed to slide yourself out from under him, and swung your feet over the side of your bed. if you didn’t get out of bed soon, you weren’t sure you ever would, and you weren’t prepared for the earful you’d receive from draken if you and mikey didn’t show up to class.

a hand grabbing one of the wrists you used to prop yourself up stopped you from going any further than you had gotten.

“eh?” you turned to see mikey, eyes still closed, reaching across your mattress to hold onto you. your heart warmed at the sight of him, just as sleepy and clingy as ever.

“n’yet…..cm’back…” he mumbled tiredly, pout evident in his voice both from the loss of his favourite pillow and the result of his cheek now being squished against the sheets.

“we’ll be late.” you leaned on your side, face just inches from his own while you pecked the tip of his nose. before you even had the chance to sit back up, mikey pulled you down into the plush comfort of your blankets, and his head took its rightful position on your stomach. your hand gravitated to his hair the same as before, and your fingers brushed out a few knots with a feather-like delicacy as you rolled your eyes, contrasting the endearing smile plastered on your face.

“mikey–”

“ssshhhhh…”

and just like that, the snores resumed, and manjiro savoured the feeling of tranquillity he was always met with upon being so snug against you.

you supposed just 5 more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

ˎˊ˗ masterlist.

ˎˊ˗ send me an ask !

[trashsimp]

Power grabbed your ankle as you tried to squirm away. You laughed but it turned into a little scream as she yanked you closer to her on the couch, her real strength flashing before you in that moment.

She wanted you to stay still as she attempted to paint your toe nails (Her idea; she’d never painted nails before and wanted to “test” it out on someone first)

“Stop moving human! You’re ruining my hard work!” She exclaimed. In reality though, it wouldn’t have mattered if you were staying still or not. Her ability to keep her hand steady as she dragged the brush across your nail was…not that great, and you could feel the cold wetness of the polish hitting your cuticles. It didn’t help that it was ticklish, making you inadvertently jump.

“Okay I’m sorry, but I can feel you painting my skin instead of my nail” you lamented.

“I am NOT”

“I can see it, Power. You’re painting my foot.”

“It will be cute, be quiet!”

Laying back into the couch, your foot in a vice grip, you sighed with defeat. She side eyed you and patted your other foot that lay across her lap.

The front door clicked, squeaking slightly as Aki stepped in. He looked over at the two of you suspiciously, assessing the situation. You leaned your head back to catch his gaze, mouthing “help me”.

He shut the door slowly. “What is happening right now” he asked, sounding a bit afraid.

“We’re having beauty-salon-self-care ladies day” Power retorted. Like she even knew what any of that meant.

He looked you both up and down. Aki’s mouth frowned a bit and said “Do not get any of that on my couch.”

“We won’t top-knot” she spat.

Aki walked into the living room, dropping his keys on the small table in front of you both. He leaned over to observe Powers work, but she hovered over your feet, yelling for him to get back.

“She’s not done Aki, you must wait to see her masterful work” you chuckled.

He crinkled his nose; “uhhh, it looks promising.”

Power swatted at him. “Get back!”

With your free foot, you playfully nudged Aki’s thigh as he walked away. He glanced at you over his shoulder, a slight smirk and a glint in his eyes.

“You’re next.” you warned him.

[trashsimp]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BELOVED KAZU💖 HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN JAIL BABE

(art not mine, i got lazy to draw today because i finished all my assignments and quiz and its 3:07am💀👍)

[trashsimp]

Hello! I’m new to these ask and very shy but could you do married life with Aki please if not it’s alright 💕

needed a break from the flood of angst that has been writing the Denji fic and this was so sweet I just HAD to write it as a little breather from the sad lol

Hope you enjoy anon, please feel free to request any time💕

Aki

Aki never thought married life is something he'd get to experience, and he's incredibly grateful that he gets to have the privilege of being your husband. He's well aware that a devil hunter isn't the easiest person to have a lifetime commitment to, and he appreciates beyond words the fact that you still chose to give him your all anyway. Aki adores you, and this shines through in every day of your marriage. Plan on endless kisses, dancing in the kitchen, and a lifetime devoted to making each other smile.

One way Aki shows his love is through food, so being married to him means you're well-fed. Mornings start with a delicious breakfast sleepily snuggled up by the table. Aki meal preps for the week ahead, too, so most of the time you've got a wonderful lunch waiting for you in the fridge. He willingly makes dinner, but Aki appreciates when you help with the little things; chopping onions, peeling potatoes, stirring together a sauce. He doesn't mind doing all these things himself, but he'd much rather have you in the kitchen with him. Aki thinks this peaceful time, absentmindedly chatting away with you about anything on your mind as you both make dinner, just might be the highlight of his day.

There's a few photographs from your wedding framed and displayed around your apartment, but Aki keeps his favorite one folded up and takes it with him wherever he goes. It's a candid shot of you both laughing after you've smeared a blob of wedding-cake frosting across his cheek.

It doesn't happen often because Aki's not the type of person that likes to sit still, but his favorite way to spend lazy days is snoozing the morning away with you. He loves hitting the 'off' button on his alarm and rolling back over to spoon you, reassuring you that the day's tasks can wait until later. If you end up sleeping in much longer than he does, he reads a book and lets you snooze on his chest until you're ready to get up.

Aki is not the type to take family photos or send out holiday cards, but if you absolutely insist, he'll cave and get a few pictures taken with you. Just don't be surprised if he looks like he's trying to hide the pain on all of your holiday card send-outs.

Whenever he's holding your hand, Aki absentmindedly rubs a finger over your wedding ring. It's an unconscious reminder that you're really his; a tangible proof that he gets to experience the day-to-day joy of married life with someone he adores, something he never thought he'd get to have.

Aki makes doing chores and running errands fun, somehow. He always holds your hand through the grocery store, flicks soap suds at you when you're doing the dishes, and buys you a coffee or milk tea whenever you two have to drop something off at the post office. Day-to-day domestic duties feel special with him, and he truly makes every moment together count (even if you're doing something as mundane and ordinary as cleaning the bathroom).

Count on Aki to remember all of the important dates in your relationship. He marks on the calendar your birthday, the day you met, and other important dates. He brings you flowers for all of them.

Aki rarely misses date nights, but on the days that devil-hunting keeps him a few hours late and you two miss your dinner reservations, he always makes it up to you. He makes sure to reschedule your plans for as soon as possible, and brings your favorite dessert home as an apology. (If you want to ask him for something, now's the time; he hates the disappointed look on your face when plans fall through, and even if he knows you use your pouty lip as a weapon sometimes, it always breaks down his defenses, anyway.)

Aki is by no means a traditionalist, but he does insist on keeping his last name. His surname is one of the only things left connecting him to his family, and he's hesitant to give that up. If you're eager to take his last name, it means more to him than he can say. On your wedding day, and every day after, it brings him a sort of indescribable comfort to know he's not truly the last Hayakawa anymore.

[trashsimp]

3:10am - [ Aki Hayakawa ] 

aki knows you’re scared, you’re not as good at hiding it as you think you are. he reaches over to your sleeping figure, running his fingers through your hair as he watches your chest heave up and down, wondering what you might be dreaming of. he hopes it isn’t him. it saddens him more than he’d like to admit it, how you used to wake up and recount your dreams to him, your lips curled in a soft smile as you tell him you dreamt of the two of you in the future, years from now in a world with no devils. he’d ask what the two of you were doing and some mornings you’d reply with just enjoying each others presence, or maybe a drink or two led to something a little more frisky, but on those rare mornings you’d tell him the two of you had a family; those were always his favourite.

you don’t tell him about your dreams anymore. although, he still knows when you have nightmares. he runs his hand across the small of your back, drawing patterns into your skin as your breathing grows more frantic. you always have a small frown dawning your face, eyebrows softly knitted together. some nights you’ll even murmur his name, over and over and every time, no matter how used to it he thinks he is, it always feels like a punch to the gut. on those rare nights he doesn’t fall back asleep, instead he prompts to lying next to your now calmed frame, wallowing in self-hatred because he just can’t stand himself for causing you such pain. he’ll wait till you finally wake, and when he asks what you dreamed of you’ll simply say you can’t remember, but you were certain it was something nice. 

he knows you’re scared, and he can’t live with himself anymore because of it. he was such a fool for accepting the devils contract. nothing’s more important than you; not the gun devil, not makima, not his job, not denji or power. he wishes he would have told you about his contract before accepting your date, he regrets being so selfish. he wishes he would have just rejected you if it meant sparing your heartbreak.  

but there’s nothing he can do anymore, that much he’s accepted. so instead he moves his hands to your waist, resting his chin atop your head. he hopes you’re dreaming of power and denji, or maybe even kobeni, he knows that you two get along pretty well. he find’s it reassuring that once he’s gone you’ll still have people who care about you. 

he promises to himself that he’ll meet you again, in some other universe, hopefully where devil’s dont exists. he’ll try make things right next time. 

he thinks he might be able to fall asleep tonight.

[trashsimp]

Yayyy, could I request a simple, soft fluffy fic of Aki just being a big ol softy/simp for reader? I understand if this isn't your tea, but whether you do or not, thank you for all this content!

softcore. / hayakawa aki x gn!reader, fluff, established relationship

my first suggestion ^^ tysm for requesting! hope you like it!

It's no secret that Aki is a little bit obsessed with you. Every morning, he brushes his teeth hip to hip beside you, makes you whatever you want for breakfast, and kisses you deeply before he leaves for work. When his lips finally pull away from yours, his gaze is half-lidded and soft, and he can't help himself from kissing you again and again. Just one more won't hurt. Okay, one more after this one. The only reason he stops is because he's already running two minutes late. 

He runs ahead to hold the door open for you everywhere you go, he stares at you adoringly to a degree noticeable by anyone, and he holds your hand tight so you don't lose him in a crowd. His hands manage to find yours anywhere they can, really. Under the table when you both go out to eat, or intertwined with yours as you both drift off to sleep. And Aki knows all of your preferences, down to the very last detail; he'd never forget.

You like your coffee with whipped cream and exactly one and a half pumps of caramel. 

I made something new for dinner tonight, but I took out the onions on half 'cause I know you don't like them. 

He doesn't smoke whenever you're around. If you're tired, he'll offer to carry you. If you're cold, he'll give you his jacket, and if you're hot, he'll take out his hair tie and tie up your hair with it. He gives you his seat on the train, he buys you anything you say you need or even mention, and… Okay, scratch that, maybe Aki is a lot obsessed with you. But how could he not be? You mean everything to him, more than what the stars mean to the sky, or what the waves mean to the ocean. Aki absolutely adores you. 

He's memorized your phone number, too. He doesn't have to think about it anymore when he spins the rotary to dial it. His finger nervously twirls around the phone cord as he waits for you to pick up, and when you answer with a, "Hello?" Aki immediately feels all his stress melt away to the sound of your voice. 

Hey… I can't sleep. I miss you. Can I come over? 

Of course, the answer is yes. So, in a moment of pure tranquility and tenderness and just the two of you, here Aki is. He lays with his head in your lap, staring up at you, dark hair fanned out over your legs and messy as you play with it because he loves the way you run your fingers through. And although Aki tries (and usually fails) to be subtle with you in public, when it's just the two of you, it's a completely different story. 

"You're so pretty like this, you know that? I love your eyes. They're such a beautiful color," He says, his hand reaching up, knuckles gently brushing across your cheek. There's a slight smile on his face, framed by pink blush. "You're always so pretty, God. I can't believe you're mine." 

You giggle, your hand tracing to his jaw, then up to push his hair behind his ears. The television is on, flashing idly as it plays the kind of shitty programs that only come on late at night, when everyone is supposed to be sleeping. It's dull background noise. Neither of you are paying attention to it anymore. Your focus is fully on each other. 

"I missed you all day. I couldn't stop thinking about you." Aki continues. His voice is quiet and smooth, deep tone resonating and familiar. Compared to how he talks with others, he always seems to speak to you much kinder, much more delicately, as if he's speaking from his heart, yet is careful with his words. 

"I missed you too." 

Your hand finds his ear and you fiddle with his piercing. His palm glides up over your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and when he notices, he asks you, "Do you like them?" 

You roll the earring between your fingers. "Your earrings? They're handsome. These ones are new, aren't they?" 

"Yeah. Do you want them?" 

"Huh?" 

You're hardly given any time to process what he said before Aki is sitting up, getting comfy beside you on the couch while he reaches to take off his earrings. "We can trade," He says with a nod, "Here, hold still. Let me take yours off." 

Aki leans in, warm hands brushing against your face as he carefully removes your earrings while holding his own in his palm. It's funny, even though you and Aki are practically inseparable, there's still something so intimate about how close he is right now, and how he's extra careful to take your earrings off and hold them so he doesn't lose them, while replacing them with his own. 

You can smell the lingering scent of his cigarettes and cologne, hear his deep and relaxed breathing. When Aki leans back to put your earrings on himself, he admires his work with a grin. He was secretly hoping you'd bring it up so he could give this pair to you. 

"Yeah, those look great on you." Aki affirms, and you laugh when he finishes putting your earrings in. 

"Aki, I wear those earrings all the time. Your co-workers are gonna know they're mine if you wear them tomorrow." 

"So? What if I want them to know?" 

You can't argue with that, and anything you were hoping to respond with dies out when Aki holds your chin between his thumb and index finger. There's a short pause, more of the television humming, and Aki takes a shaky breath in before he asks, "Can I kiss you?" 

He doesn't have to ask, really, he doesn't. But he always does. Teasing him a little, you reply, "Didn't we kiss for hours earlier?" 

It's true, when he first got here, your lips were on his for what must have been hours as you kissed to make up for lost time. Lazy and slow, murmuring I love you and I missed you in between each one, his mouth immediately finding your cheeks and your neck when you need a moment to catch your breath. And even still, you didn't have enough of him, and he certainly didn't have enough of you. 

"Just one more won't hurt, right?" 

[trashsimp]

rhyme, rhythm, iambic pentameter. // s.s.

pairing: Shinichiro Sano x reader, established relationship,

wc: 400+

synopsis: Shinichiro Sano is a creep, a weirdo, and he doesnt belong here. and yes, he’ll tell you he came up with those words all by himself

tags/cw: fluff, established relationship

a/n: ik this is a blurb so it sould have a blurb format but honestly?? i want shin to look pretty so…

m.list 𖥻 tags 𖥻 byi/dni

Shinichiro Sano cherishes you, he really does. Every little milestone with you must be celebrated at all costs, and despite his friends branding him as cheesy he’s decided that, his lack of literary skills aside, a poem is the best way to go.

But he doesn’t know how to write a poem, and it doesn’t help that he’s got Mikey making fun of every unrhymable rhyme he comes up with, plus the chicken scratch that’s his handwriting.

So he calls for help, and who’s better than his darling best friends to help him out, right?

Wrong

Because as soon as he hands you the crumbled paper, along with some flowers on crinkly wrapping paper, and sees the way you wince after reading You’re just like an angel, Your skin makes me cry he wishes the floor would swallow him whole.

“Do you like it?” He asks, if he was a cartoon he’d be comically sweating. “I did tell you I wrote it myself, right?”

Your eyes shift from I wish I was special, You’re so fucking special back to his eyes; multiple times but subtly enough to tell him you know.

“Maybe not myself as in myself, uh, the guys helped me out.”

Oh, so that explains it then.

“Shin–“

“I’m not a poet, I know but I tried my best,” he shifts from one foot to another, gaze everywhere but meeting yours. “I mean, the guys tried their best and I went along with it.”

“Shin–“

“They’re stupid though, so I get how this is actually worse than me writing it by myself,”

“Shin–“

“And you like pretty writing, I wanted to–“

“Shinichiro.”

The sound of his name stops his rambling; your voice makes him want to swallow his tongue. For a fraction of a second, he’s still unable to look at your face, but when he does, he cant help the warmth that your tilted head and warm smile brews inside his body. All he can do is hum in acknowledgment.

“You’ve never heard this song before?” You ask, and now he looks like a confused puppy because, what do you mean song?

His puzzled expression and cutesome naivety makes you want to smother his cheeks in kisses. Its not his fault hes so gullible, so weak, specially when it comes to you.

No hesitation needed, you do as you thought. Kissing every single bit of skin you have access too, basking on his giggles, arms circling around your body pulling you close.

Its only the day after your three month anniversary that he recognizes the familiar tune you’re humming; its been stuck in your head the whole of yesterday, and now that you’re making breakfast, nuzzling up against his neck as he hugs you from behind, it finally hits him.

“Those fucking assholes.”

© 2022 SHINACHIRO ; Do not repost my work. Do not recommend my work outside of tumblr. Do not translate my work.

[trashsimp]

2:27 AM | HAITANI RAN

Ran’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his breath is mist in the cold expanse of his car. He inhales once, squeezes the steering wheel so hard he’s almost convinced he could break it. He switches on the heating,flicks open the packet of cigarettes and puts one between his lips, watching the smoke curl and puff. He’d have thought that spending the better part of an hour beating a man till his brains could be seen would have done something to ease the tight coil of tension and stiffness in his stomach but apparently not. 

His fingers still feel fatigued, still feel as if there are sparks just below the skin of his scarred hands. 

He hadn’t left under the best of circumstances, hadn’t even looked back as he slammed the door on you. You had watched, tears in your eyes as he drove off, his brow pinched, mouth turned down, lip caught between his teeth as he held back all the things he could have said.

He’s still thinking about it now. Still thinking about the look on your face when he shrugged on his jacket and walked out, the keys on the hook shaking as he slammed the front door. You had watched the white paint, watched the door handle stay unmoving, and waited with bated breath, for him to return, say sorry, to take it back. And minutes had passed, the drone of the engine had disappeared and still you waited, would have continued to wait had it not been for the ring of your mobile.

Ran sighs, picks up his phone, half expecting to see a barrage of missed calls from you, and then deflates when he sees nothing but the lockscreen clear of any notifications.He doesn’t know that on your side, you’re doing the same thing, sniffling and checking your phone periodically for any sign that he might have reached out to you.

Ran’s finger hovers over your name. He dials, listens for the ring, his heart hammering in his chest. More nerve wracking than killing a man, he thinks.

You see his name flash on the screen, and you let it ring twice before picking it up, perhaps out of spite, perhaps because you don’t want to make it seem like you were waiting for him, watching the clock tick away. A punishment in itself for the both of you of sorts. 

You wipe your nose on a sodden tissue left on your nightstand, rolling over on your shared bed that smells so horribly like him.  Your heartbeat quickens when you press the phone to your ear.

‘Princess?’ he says, and the air whooshes out of you. There is no playful lilt, no teasing, no sarcasm in it. It is worried and hushed and hoarse, and you can tell by the roughness of it that he’s smoked a few cigarettes before making the call.

Your lip wobbles, and you don’t entirely trust your voice not to betray you right now, so you clear your throat. But even still, that lump right there persists and when you exhale, it comes out shaky.

‘Ran…’ You don’t mean for it to sound so desperate, for your breathy whisper to feed down the line. And perhaps it’s because your heart has been aching since he slammed that door, and you saw the vein in his forehead pulse with anger, but a half-hearted sob pulls its way out of you and drips down the line.

A spike of anxiety shoots its way through him, and he can tell you’ve been crying to yourself over the last few hours. The guilt worms its way into his stomach like a parasite. 

‘Princess …’ he says again, his tongue heavy, sticking to the roof of his mouth. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

The tears are free-flowing and fast and you hiccup into the receiver. It’s been hours, you know that. You know that the jagged edges of your pain have softened into smoother tendrils of heartbreak. You also know that you forgave him the minute you saw his name pop up on your screen. Still, you want to make him work for that forgiveness, you want him to know, to at least feel a fraction of the sharp pain he caused you.

‘Ran I-’ You’re not sure what to say to him to get this feeling across, this strange sensation of both yearning and anger. And you are angry with him, for walking out on you, for not explaining, for the way he reacted to such a simple request. 

Can you take some time off so we can spend a weekend together?

Yet you know that even still, you’ve forgiven him so quickly, and perhaps that’s a testament to what you feel for him. You are irrevocably in love and you know that life is so short and fleeting and that that love is the most sacred gift you could ever share with each other.

‘I know baby,’ he says, and though you can’t see it, he’s hoping that him pressing his forehead into the steering wheel and mentally cursing himself is going to somehow assuage the guilt. ‘I’m stupid, I’m an idiot-’

‘Very stupid-’ you interject, just to drive home the point.

‘Very stupid, correct.’ He runs a hand through his hair, preparing himself for saying whatever he needs to, if it means he’s going to win you back. ‘I am the most insufferable person on the whole Earth-’

‘That’s an understatement-’ 

He tuts at your minor interruption and you snort, sniffling, your skin cracking from the tears dried on your face.

‘I’m a stupid boyfriend, an idiotic man who doesn’t deserve to have such a beautiful and smart girl in my life-’ 

He’s on a roll now, gripping the phone tight and fiddling with a cigarette lighter you bought for him, his initials carved into the gold casing. 

‘Ran-’ You sit up in your bed, brows furrowed.

‘-But I know that I love you,’ he says, an almost imperceptible whisper that you swear no one else would have heard over the drone of the car’s heating, or the shuffle of sheets as you moved. But you know him, know his words, know his voice anywhere. Your heart knows his instinctively, and you’re so in rhythm with each other that in a sea of voices, you could pick him out. You would know him beyond death, beyond anything. 

You’ve heard him say it before, many times before in fact. But it’s still true as ever. That he has your heart in a vice grip and that he, through the simple act of existing, of saying the three words, can make you come undone where you sit. You feel yourself soften, the edges of your pain withering away like leaves in autumn. You try to fight the watery smile that’s threatening your lips and even though your chin wobbles still, you think it’s okay.He’s okay, you’re okay.

‘Princess?’ He hasn’t heard you reply and it worries him just a bit. 

You take a shaky breath and all that tension dissipates through your skin. Your fight seems so trivial compared to this, compared to the vast expanse of love between you, the years and years of building what you both cherish so much. ‘I love you too Ran.’ 

And with that, he sighs, lifting his head from the steering wheel, gripping the phone a little looser and his shoulder sag as he leans against the plush leather seat. It is so simply said, so simply done, that the argument from the afternoon almost seems non-existent compared to this. 

‘I’m on my way home,’ he says and he means it. ‘I’ll see you soon Pretty baby.’ 

‘Can’t wait,’ you reply and he can almost feel your smile through the phone. There is no tension, no echo of worry or hurt feeding through the line this time. Only love, persisting as it always does.

a/n: this has been sitting in my docs since like forever, figured it was time to post it. Believe it or not Ran was one of the first characters I ever started writing for, it's been a while since I wrote for him, thank you to everyone who has supported my work thus far and continues to do so, it really means a lot to me y'know, I know I'm really inconsistent with posting, but you guys continue to stay with me, thank you all. and thanks to my ran for being a whole lot of fun and a huge inspo for me <3

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