lifewithroseglasses - Tumblr blog

[lifewithroseglasses]

[lifewithroseglasses]

[lifewithroseglasses]

If your girl likes studio ghibli, that’s not your girl. That’s howl jenkins pendragon’s girl

[lifewithroseglasses]

[ 12:42 am ] — OLIVER AIKU | angst

the door bell rings, followed by a vicious pounding on the wood. your name is called out numerous times, muffled by the walls that separate you and oliver.

the tears spring into your eyes, and it takes a moment for you to steel yourself for what comes next. one breath in. one breath out. then you’re up from the couch.

you unlock the door, not shocked to find oliver standing on the other side of it, huffing for breath. he rushes past you, and his presence inside your home makes your heart clench in ache.

your eyes shut. one breath in. one breath out. the door shuts softly. you follow him, stopping until you’re only a couple feet away from him.

oliver’s standing in the middle of your living room. “i know you’ve probably already seen it, but it’s not what it seems.”

you saw it alright. you saw the tweets, and the ongoing chaos taking over your feed. you’ve read each speculation, each nasty dig, and each sentence of support. you felt your heart crush. you’ve felt the last of your will disintegrate, all because of one of many article titles.

UBERS DEFENSIVE STAR OLIVER AIKU SPOTTED WITH SUPERMODEL AT DINNER

“it doesn’t matter.” you mumble to him, rubbing at your eyes. your head’s starting to hurt.

“just listen to me-”

“it doesn’t matter, oliver.” you repeat sternly, causing your boyfriend to blink.

his face contorts in confusion. “what? what do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

you don’t have the guts to look up. your gaze locks onto your feet. your tongue pokes around the inside of your cheeks.

“hey,” oliver tilts your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eyes. his hand slides to cup your cheek, and the gesture that was so common place in the past makes you sick. “talk to me, baby.”

such simple words, yet they cause you to break so ferociously.

“i’m so tired,” you whisper pathetically. the first of what is probably many tears slide down your face. “i’m tired of this, tired of us, tired of you.”

you can feel oliver’s hand falter against your skin. “huh? wait, baby, you’re not making any sense. i don’t get it. what are you-"

“there’s only so much i can take.” you cry, pushing his hand off you to wipe your cheeks. you can sense that he didn’t expect that. some sick part of you is proud that it wounds him. “i can’t keep making excuses for you. i can’t keep forgiving you. i can’t keep doing it. it’s killing me, oliver.”

“please. just let me-"

“no.” you shake your head. “just stop. don’t. i already know.”

“come on. you’re not being fair.”

those words make you laugh. “fair? of course it’s not fucking fair. i have to look at pictures of my boyfriend with other women. i have to watch the world speculate on whether you’ve settled down or if you’re in another fling. i have to take it all without uttering a single word.”

“but we both know what’s true. it doesn’t matter what they say.” oliver tries to reason, but it fails to work on you.

“if it doesn’t matter what they say, then why do you refuse to let them know about me?” you fire back. “if it doesn’t matter, then let them know i’m here. i’m the person you’ve settled down with. tell the world i’m yours. oliver, i’m right here.” your voice breaks.

oliver’s never looked so torn before. he’s caught in a mental battle. “i’m trying to protect you.”

you scoff with a shake of your head. “you’re not. i never asked to be protected by you, and even then, the protection that you swear you’re giving did nothing to prevent my heart from breaking. if anything, oliver, you’re protecting yourself.”

“in what way does this protect me?” his eyes are desperate and lost.

“you really don’t get it, do you?” you strain a smile. “i would hurt your reputation, wouldn’t i? because surely, i’m not the person who made infamous playboy oliver aiku fall head over heels in love because oliver aiku only hangs with actresses and supermodels and idols.

“you’re scared, scared of admitting that you’re with me because then that would make everything real, and that image you’ve curated for yourself would come crashing down. people will know to back off. your fans will stop trying to flirt with you as you sign whatever item they shove in your face.

“and we can’t have that, can we now, oliver? you thrive off of the attention. you’re fucking high on it, and i am the one person who can ruin it all.”

oliver reaches for your hands. his rough fingers caress yours. “baby, come on, that’s not true.”

“it’s not?” you challenge. “then you should be able to clear it, no? tell the world i’m here. tell them you belong to me, oliver.” you say these words through sobs.

your boyfriend’s thumbs stop tracing your skin, and he’s silent. it’s so heavy it could crush through the floor.

there it is — the final nail in the coffin.

you can’t even see him through your blurry vision, but your hands slip out of his grasp. you cast your head down, utterly defeated. “i think you should go, oliver.”

“(y/n). don’t do this. please, baby. let me fix this.” you’ve never heard him beg like this. it almost makes you surrender. it almost makes you pull him in for a kiss, a hug, or whatever would allow you to feel his familiar warmth, but you’re able to catch yourself.

“oliver, maybe one day someone will be able to handle hiding. maybe they’ll love you so much that they can bear it, but it’s not going to be me. not anymore.”

your words hang heavy in the air. they settle into your bones. and without another word, oliver cups your face in his hand. he places the most delicate kiss on your forehead.

you shut your eyes in fear that if you saw him, you would break all over again. you keep them shut as he backs up. his steps are slow across your floor. oliver stops at you assume to be your door.

“i’m sorry, (y/n). i-i love you.”

you’re not sure if that was his last resort in trying to fix this. it’s pathetic, but it nearly works. you have to bite your bottom lip to prevent it from trembling. a fresh wave of tears threatens to spill from your eyes. you wish you could say it back. you wish you could run into his arms, and oliver would whisper into your ear that everything is okay. but not all wishes can come true. you know you can’t cave.

instead, you clench your fists at your sides. you can’t turn back. one look at his face would break your resolve. you’ll have to bear the hauntings that come with the ‘what-if’s’.

“it’s too late for that.” you say instead.

for a moment, the stillness of the air makes you wonder if oliver had left. that is until you hear your front door shut. your eyes fly open.

one breath in.

one breath out.

and you finally let your cries carry throughout the room.

notes. thank you guys for 200 followers!! i threw this together as fast as i could just to have something to celebrate, but i’m writing this before sleeping so it’s probably ass. oliver might be ooc too so i apologize ab that in advance. i just really wanted to write for him lol. i only gave it one read over so forgive any mistakes i made. again, im too tired for this. hope you enjoyed!! i’ll see you in the next one <33

[lifewithroseglasses]

[lifewithroseglasses]

nanami kento never intended for your relationship to be the first page of his newest journal. he didn't even notice when he began documenting it with a black ink pen in a plain leather notebook—writing down the moment you finally agreed to be his, as if you hadn’t been smitten by him from the first time you laid eyes on him.

each passing page became a piece of you. his dilemma on buying you flowers filled the 14th page, and by the 34th, there was a polaroid of you holding your favorite flowers—this time, he knew with confidence. your trips together occupied a few more pages, and even more were dedicated to the places he dreamed of taking you. from losses to love, nanami wrote it all down. it was his best way of keeping you—of keeping what you shared. he wanted your love to remain forever, not only in his heart but also in his hands.

when the wedding bells finally rang and he wore a suit unlike his usual ones, nanami kento stood before you, journal in hand. he read from it, a love documented from the beginning to what felt like the end of the beginning. his vows were written as though he'd known all along that he would marry you. but no, his journal didn’t just record the start of your relationship or the journey leading up to that day.

what nanami kento had not expected was that he would end up documenting your entire story.

as he began the last page with your name, followed by a comma, he wrote down everything he planned for your future together—plans he wanted to set in motion as soon as he returned from his mission. plans he would have given to you immediately after.

"let me take you to malaysia?"

you read over and over again, desperately hoping for more to follow, for another page to turn. but there were no more words. no more pages. and nanami’s voice, his presence, would no longer carry past this page.

yet, it’s hard to be angry with him. because, in the end, nanami was always a gentleman. whether knowingly or not, he left you one final letter—a letter filled with love, just like every page in his journal. because maybe, just maybe, the journal wasn’t for him to keep your love. maybe it was for you to keep his—not only in your heart but in your hands, after all.

[lifewithroseglasses]

CUDDLING W NANAMI

18plus. domestic slice of life (truly….no plot just fluff and cockwarming). 1767wc. similar to something i wrote a few years ago but tonight it’s all i can think about<3 fluff, smut: cockwarming, heavy topics unrelated to their relationship: cancer, divorce // thank you @notsissannis for betaing!

A soft smile forms on your lips when Nanami joins you on the couch, his hips fitting easily between your thighs as he lays his head on your chest. It’s a little uncomfortable when he pushes his arms under you, his hold on you tightening as though you could somehow slip away, but it doesn’t bother you. Instead, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and give him a squeeze, your neck craning to drop a kiss on his hairline before you go back to the game you’re playing on your phone.

“I love you,” you tell him once the silence between you stretches a little too far. The feel of him smiling causes you to lean in to kiss his forehead again, free hand rubbing at his shoulders as you soak in the wonderful weight of being trapped beneath him. “And I want a crepe for dinner.”

He chuckles. “I’ll make you whatever you want, my love.”

You fidget a bit, hugging your legs to his sides as you tilt your hips into him in an attempt to get more comfortable between the dips in the couch cushions. “Ken-”

Your voice hangs in the air as he turns his gaze up to you with brown eyes that know you all too well- that know how being weighed down by his body makes you feel.

“I love you more, yn,” he says, kissing your chest before sitting up. “Are you busy?”

“Obviously,” you deadpan before showing him your phone screen.

He rolls his eyes as he leans in to kiss your mouth. “Let me show you,” he murmurs, moving to lay across the other end of the couch, “how much more I love you.”

His cock is already half hard in his pajama bottoms -a pair of soft, old grey sweats that you steal when he isn’t home-, and he palms himself over the fabric as he watches you watching him.

“Come,” he encourages, voice low in his chest as he gestures for you.

“Off or to the side?”

“Off,” he murmurs, watching as you stand up to take off your shorts and underwear. He curls his arm around your waist, dragging you nearer to him. “Anything you want to read?”

“I get to pick?”

He tilts his head to kiss your thigh. “We could sit in silence, but-”

“You’re right, you’re right,” you nod, spotting a bottle of lube next to his phone on the floor. “I love the sound of your voice.”

He smiles as you bend down to grab the bottle and steal a kiss from him. “I live to keep you in love with me, my love.”

“You’re in luck, then. I have two articles on my list. One about fun and the other about love.”

You're both on autopilot as he holds his hand out and you squirt a little too much into his palm. You watch him stroke his cock as he asks, “It’s not another one about divorce, is it?”

“That was the best option for those people and you know it, Kento.”

He laughs and kisses you softly when you move to straddle him, his lubed hand sneaking between your thighs before you can settle. His touch is teasing and leaves you sighing into the kiss before he pulls away to murmur, “I like to think fondly about our future.”

“Mr. Reality-Check doesn’t want to acknowledge divorce?” You ask as you ghost your fingers down the underside of his cock. “It’s not an option for us. And the article is about siblings.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” he admits, moaning when you wrap your fingers around his length. In a different voice, he says, “I’ve been thinking about this since I got home.”

“You should have told me sooner, my love. You know I always want to be stuffed full-” you lean in for another kiss, his hands finding your waist as you tilt your hips to take him “-especially of you.”

He smiles against your lips, not bothering to mask his moan as you rub his cockhead to your folds. “Was trying to wait for bed,” he admits, letting out a strained breath as you sink down onto him. “Fuck- were you ready for me, baby?”

“You know I love when you lay on me.”

You wipe your hand on the back of your shirt, smiling when he laughs and does the same, his fingers twisting with yours for a moment as he very gently says, “You looked so cozy laying here I had to bother you.”

He guides your hand over his shoulder and you wrap your arms around his neck as he wraps his around your waist, angling his hips just right for you to sink completely onto him. The feeling leaves you whimpering against his neck, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks as your walls squeeze at his cock in an attempt to adjust. You can feel him throbbing in response, his hands rubbing at your body in an attempt to get you to relax.

A blissful sigh leaves you once you finally relax, pulling enough away from him to kiss his jaw and check. “Mmm,” you smile as you cuddle back into his neck. “Feels so good I can barely breathe, baby.”

He chuckles. “I’m going to adjust a little, okay?”

“Yeah-”

You can’t help your gasp as he shifts beneath you, getting a little more comfortable as he keeps you close, your body flush against his. He brushes a kiss to your shoulder once he’s settled, hands still rubbing soothingly at you as he says, “You’re doing so well for me.”

“Don’t I always?”

He laughs, the sound innocent despite your position. “No. Sometimes you’re a crying mess.”

“Ouch.”

There is still a smile in his voice as he says, “It’s fine- I’ll take responsibility.”

You hear your phone unlock, the sound stopping you from saying anything more as you let yourself weigh a little heavier against his chest. “They should be saved,” you say, referring to the articles.

Nanami hums in acknowledgment but says nothing for nearly a minute. “Babe,” he sighs. “This article is going to make you cry.”

“I know. I was going to wait and read it tonight in bed. So you could wake up and ask my love, are you crying? And I could be like” -you pretend to cry- “no, babe; go back to sleep before you wrap me in your arms-”

“Like this?” He asks, nuzzling into your shoulder as he squeezes you close.

“Yeah,” you admit, wiggling a little and whimpering when his cockhead rubs just where you love. “Will you read it?”

“Yes,” he tells you. “Be a good girl and don’t squirm too much for me.”

You can feel yourself trembling, walls fluttering as though this is a new experience for you, but he barely relaxes beyond a soft moan before he starts to read, his voice rising and falling at all of the right moments. The way he keeps his cool while you’re warming him always leaves you in awe, the only sign that he’s enjoying himself coming from the way he keeps you filled to the brim, his cock sometimes feeling like it’s grown even bigger inside you.

You're distracted from the feeling as you listen to him, tears filling and falling from your eyes as he reads through the climax of the article. He continues to rub your back, setting your phone down and holding a hand to the back of your head for a moment once he’s done.

It’s a comfort made more intense by the fact that you're stuffed full of his cock, your bodies vulnerable as they fit together so perfectly, and you find yourself wiping your nose on your sleeve just before he wordlessly encourages you to look at him.

His hand is warm on your cheek, thumb swiping a tear as he looks you over. “I suppose it’s mildly therapeutic…”

You offer him a watery smile. “Crying about familial love while stuffed full of your cock, Kento?”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s no bite in the action. “You and these tear-jerker articles. But…yes. The position, too. It adds a tenderness to emotions.

“I like it.”

You wipe your nose on your shirt again, attempting to pull yourself together before pulling away from him. He groans, hands quickly settling on your hips to hold you still. “Can I have your shirt?”

His brow raises before he consents, shaking his head as a smile forms on his face. “Yeah,” he says as he lets you go and carefully pulls his shirt over his head. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”

You add the one you’re wearing to your pile of clothes and begin to pull his on, your stomach swooping when you thumbs one of your nipples. “I wasn’t.”

He takes in your sneaky smile once you’re half dressed again, a tired sigh escaping him as he wipes a stray tear away from your cheek and says, “Pray tell…”

You draw your arms back around his neck, just barely rolling your hips in his lap. The sound he makes leaves heat pooling deeper in your stomach as you kiss the corner of his mouth and trail your lips down his jaw and throat. “I love when you reveal how much of a perv you are.”

“I’m not a pervert,” he tells you, a frown in his voice. “I love you.”

“Is that the standard?”

He lifts a hand and draws his fingers around the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. “Perhaps not in ordinary circumstances.”

“Oh? Is this no ordinary love?”

“Not at all, Sade.”

You laugh at his reference, but he cuts you off with a kiss as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you back into him, another moan escaping him as your weight shifts. “You feel so good, Kenny,” you murmur. “Please-”

“Not yet.” He kisses you one more time before guiding you to lay back down on him. “Just keep my cock nice and warm for me a little longer, okay?”

You groan, walls fluttering and hips moving on their own despite his hold.

“I know- I can feel how wet you're getting…so greedy, my love. Just be a patient, alright? Don’t I always give you what you want?”

“Yeah.”

He kisses your shoulder. “Good girl. Just relax,” he tells you as he once again unlocks your phone. “We’re going to read your other article and then I promise, my love: I’ll fuck you just like you need it.”

nyt article that made me try like a baby and write this fic and the song

[lifewithroseglasses]

"FIRST PLACE, FIRST CHOICE" Pairing: Osamu x Fem!Reader

Rating/Warnings: Rated T for Teen, alcohol mention and bad words but that's it y'all

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: At the heart of jealousy is fear. You and Osamu get to the heart of it.

Note: Angst to Fluff, learning how to talk it out.

The shared apartment is tense, quiet save for the sound of running shower water. Osamu is sitting on the edge of the couch, tugging on loose strings at the hem of his shirt. It’s been almost forty-five minutes, and all the irrational anger he had felt before has simmered away to sick guilt. He hears the faucet squeak off and stands when you exit the washroom a minute later, towel wrapped around your body, wet hair dripping on your shoulders. He shuffles his feet when you look at him. Your eyes flicker from stormy to hurt and you purse your lips lightly before walking into the bedroom.

Osamu sits back down on the couch, sighing. He knows he fucked up tonight. He had never felt such a profound sense of regret as when he saw you furiously blink away tears at his words. His words which had been so careless and petty and childish. He felt childish, or like a child; unsure of himself, afraid of something he couldn’t define.

When you come out of your bedroom, he’s worried a hole into the bottom of his shirt. You sit beside him, curling your legs up to your chest, protective. He’s already placed two glasses of water down, you notice. You look at him warily, and then to the fidgeting fingers ruining his top.

Osamu stops and places his hands on his pants. “I’m an idiot,” he says, breaking the silence. You don’t speak, waiting with those glassy eyes that makes him feel like a stranger to you. He hates this feeling more than anything. “I’m an idiot and I’m sorry.” He has to look away from you to regain himself for a moment. “I understand if you’re angry ‘n don’t wanna talk about it.”

You take in the lines of his profile, heart aching. Your voice is soft, distant. “I’m not angry. Not really.”

His eyes glance back at you, tentative. “You’re not?”

You shake your head, hugging yourself closer. “I’m just a little hurt,” you say. “And confused. And sad.”

Tears rim your eyes again, unshed. Osamu is dismayed. “I’m—” He has to clear his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

A line pinches between your brows. “I just don’t understand what I did that made you say that.”

His breath comes out in an anxious rush. He feels so far away from you. “No, no, it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anythin’. I messed up.”

You shake your head lightly. “You’re never like that, Osamu. Sure, we get annoyed at each other or mad sometimes, but you’re never mean.”

He has to swallow the knot in his throat. His name sounds so formal in your mouth. “I…There’s no excuse.”

“I don’t want an excuse, I just want to understand where it came from.”

He has to close his eyes. There’s pressure in his chest, making it hard to take clear breaths. “I’m ‘n idiot,” he says again, voice wet. He’s so tired suddenly. The long hours preparing for the open of his restaurant, the endless construction bills. Feeling too old and too young simultaneously, taking on something this big alone –without his brother, without a team around him to cover for him if he let the ball drop. Never getting proper time with you and feeling guilty about it.

And then seeing you get flirted with all night by Atsumu. He knows that’s just his brother’s nature, that you two had always gotten along and that he doesn’t mean anything by it. He knows that you’re friendly to everyone. Charming and sweet and all the things that he fell in love with you for.

But Osamu had been jealous. And when you had wrapped your arms around his neck earlier that night, buzzed and giggling, asking why he was being so quiet, he couldn’t hold the leash on his irritations, snipping at you like he might have if he was in high school again. It had been a long time since Osamu had felt genuine, fierce competitiveness. It had been irrational, white-hot, flash-pan. He sinks further into the couch, recalling what he had said to you.

You watch him retreat into himself. You had never seen Osamu in such a mood and despite your own tender wound, you began to grow worried. “Hey,” you whisper. You begin unfurling yourself slowly. “Look at me. Talk to me.” When he doesn’t reply, you reach a hand out to place on top of his and he interlaces your fingers immediately. His breathing is uneven.

“I was jealous,” he admits, soft.

Genuine surprise rushes through you. You squeeze his fingers, a silent beckon to for him to meet your gaze. His eyes are guarded, mouth tight. “Of what?” He continues staring at you, and slowly the pieces come together. Were it a different moment in time, you would’ve laughed. “Me and Atsumu?” You can’t hide your incredulity.

Osamu’s ears are turning red. “It’s stupid, I know.” He’s embarrassed as hell.

“’Samu,” you start, beginning to understand. “No, baby.”

“I feel like a dumb teenager, or somethin’,” he groans, scooting closer to you. You put your other hand into his hair and he drops his face down into your shoulder. “And you’re bein’ so nice to me, even though I said that awful thing.”

“I can be hurt and still be nice,” you say. “I can be hurt and still love you. I do, ‘Samu.” You shake your shoulder slightly so he’ll look up at you. “I do. I love you.” Your eyes turn firm. “But you can’t lash out at me like that. You should be able to talk to me when something’s weighing on you.”

Osamu is ill-equipped for this, he realizes. You’re his first serious relationship, the first one he wants to last. He’s never had to hold out his heart in front of other people before, not in this way. Growing up, when he and Atsumu fought, they could soothe everything over without words—understanding was almost guaranteed. There was an eternal promise between him and his twin, that they would always be in each other’s courts. He knew he would never lose Astumu.

He could lose you, though.

Your eyes widen when you see his tears. “I’ve been so busy lately,” he says.

You nod. “The grand opening is soon.”

“I’m so tired. I feel like I’m not makin’ enough time for you.”

“We both knew you would have to make some sacrifices for a bit,” you say, and the understanding in your voice makes his tears spill over.

“That’s the problem,” he says roughly, “I don’t wanna to sacrifice anythin’ when it comes to you. I don’t wanna to lose you.” And then, soft as anything, so soft you have to hold your breath to hear him, “I’m scared.”

All the tension and upset you were holding in your body falls through your feet. You rest a palm on his cheek, brushing away his tears. “Tell me about what you’re scared of.”

“Failin’,” he says. He’s never said it out loud before. The relief is so profound it almost makes him lightheaded. “Not bein’ good enough.”

He makes a helpless sound when you pull him into your arms, stroking him, calming him. You wish you could hold him closer somehow, close enough for him to feel how much you love him, how much you care. “You’re already good enough.”

Osamu lets out a wet laugh, like he can’t believe his own tears. “I should be comfortin’ you right now,” but when you don’t relent your hold, he presses closer into you, breathing in the scent of your bodywash, your shampoo. Your goodness, your light. “I’m still sorry.”

You hum lightly. “It’s okay, I forgive you. Just don’t be mean to me like that again, I’m not your brother.”

He snorts. “No, you’re definitely not.”

“And really, baby, Atsumu? Of all the people to be jealous of.”

He laughs into your neck, healing in your embrace just as you are healing holding him. “He’s the only one that comes close to lookin’ as good as me.”

You tug on his ear playfully. “That’s true…now that I think of it…” you tease.

He humphs, holding you even tighter, moving his head just enough to shoot you a look. “Too soon, baby. Too soon.”

You chuckle, placing a kiss to his brow. “I love you, Osamu. So much.”

“Love ya, too,” he says, voice muffled against your skin. “More than you know.”

You two sit in peace and warmth, sharing the earned intimacy of forgiveness. He whispers sweet nothings to you and you whisper them back, until eventually, you feel Osamu fall asleep. You listen to his deep breathing, his soft little snores and smile privately to yourself. You remember what Atsumu had whispered in your ear earlier, before the night had gotten strained.

“My brother wants to marry you, y’know?”

You hide your smile behind your drink and try to sound casual. “Oh, really? Interesting.”

“I told him he’d be ‘n idiot not to.” The blond twin is on his fifth beer, starting to slur his words. “You’d be the best sister n’ law.”

“Atsumu, you secret softie. Who knew you could be so sweet?” You steal a glance at your boyfriend, still seated in the corner. He’s looking down at his phone, reserved. You start to make your way towards him, but Atsumu pulls you back like an eager little kid. You giggle and let yourself be drawn back into the setter’s orbit.

He pitches his voice low, conspiratorial. “Wanna know what the ring looks like?”

You can feel your flush down to your neck, and it’s not from the booze. “He has a ring picked out?” You whisper.

Atsumu’s smile is so devious you have to laugh. “Wanna know when he plans to do it?”

“No!” You say, placing a hand over Atsumu’s mouth. Your grin is so wide it hurts. “And you’re being a terrible twin by telling me this.”

Atsumu shrugs. “Somethin’ tells me y’already know.”

“I know no such thing. Don’t ruin the surprise.” You can’t quite curb your stern tone.

Atsumu slings a lazy arm over your shoulder. “Ya gonna say yes?”

You glance back at Osamu, who is absently swirling around his drink. You feel love enter you so sharply you feel dizzy. You see nights and days and years; a kaleidoscope, projecting memories that haven’t even happened yet, but you already treasure. You kiss your future brother-in-law on the cheek. “Something tells me you already know.”

[lifewithroseglasses]

trust yourself!!! 🫵🏻

[lifewithroseglasses]

OASIS

synopsis: there are nights when keiji’s thoughts keep him up, but you’re always there. the balcony is his sanctuary, but you’re his oasis.

notes: akaashi keiji x gn!reader, reverse comfort, slight angst with a fluffy ending, smoking.

wc: < 1k

“can't sleep?”

your words bring him out of his solemn trance. the summer air blows against your face, the dewiness of it all sticking to your skin.

you knew exactly where to find him — the balcony of your one-bedroom apartment was his sanctuary on nights like these. a cigarette dangled from his lips, and the smoke curled up into the hazy sky.

“yeah. something like that,” keiji inhales, letting the nicotine bring him a feeling of pure serenity, or maybe it’s because you’re here. he turns his face away from you, blowing smoke from his pretty pink lips.

the taste of guilt and discontent sits on his tongue. it's 3:46 am, and it's windy outside, yet you stand beside him wearing thin pajamas and the gentlest of smiles on your face.

"was the room too cold? i would've turned the AC off if you wanted," you ask, a pout making its way to your lips because you'd make the room chillier than usual so your boyfriend would huddle closer (of course, he knew about your antics).

he shakes his head with a laugh that's soft, and feather-light, and music to your ears.

"no, no. nothing like that. i was just thinking." and you knew this. you knew keiji's mind like the back of your hand. because even though he didn't voice his thoughts, concerns, and desires often, he frequently confided in you on this very balcony as the heat enveloped you two.

keiji worries.

he worries about his future, your future, his relationships, his regrets, missed opportunities, potential ones. he still thinks about the time he missed bokuto's game years ago because he had to catch up on work, the time his father told him he could've chosen a better career, the time he questioned whether or not he deserved someone as sweet as you in his life.

and like always, you pull him from his thoughts with the dance of your fingers along his forearm. you trace the birthmarks across his skin, mapping each one out like a constellation.

“you love me so much, don’t you?”

“that’s such a weird question," you snort. "of course i do.” and even though his question is a bit odd, it's one that he asks often, albeit in a variety of ways. ("you're happy with me, right?" to which you always respond with "of course i am." and those four words are enough to relieve keiji of his plaguing worries).

“you always take care of me even though i barely have time to see you,” he continues.

"you always make time for me," you remind him. you rub your hand up and down his arm, hoping that your words make it through to his head. he's never been good at accepting reassurance, but he tries.

"i try to, i really do. i'm sorry if it isn't enough," he says, looking at you with tired eyes.

"i know you do, baby. look, we're together now, aren't we? it's nice to look at something other than your pile of work," you look straight at the sky. stars litter the cerulean space like the faint freckles on keiji's lower back. and when he looks down at your lips, he's relieved that your smile still remains.

he sighs a breathy laugh, puts out his cigarette, and pops a mint into his mouth like he always does.

keiji pulls you towards him and takes the hand that was soothing his skin just seconds ago, placing a kiss to your knuckles — a silent 'thank you' that you've become accustomed to.

you take his weary face into your hands and press a kiss to his lips. this balcony was his sanctuary, but your lips were his oasis. and so, without a second thought, he dips his lips deeper into yours, letting them linger against yours as your breath picks up in your chest.

“come on, let's go to bed,” you tell him, your chest rising and falling from the heated kiss.

and even though it’s 3:59 am, and you can hear some birds chirping, you take his hand into yours and lead him to the bedroom. his clothes smell like cigarette smoke and detergent, a scent that gives you the comfort of his presence.

he lets you pull his clothes off his body, he lets you discard them on the wooden floor beneath the bed, he lets you kiss along his collarbones and chest before he's finally pulling you under the cotton sheets with him. he holds you as close as possible — begging the sun to stay hidden for a while — so he can revel in the safety of your lips and the shelter of your breathy 'i love you's.

[lifewithroseglasses]

[03:27]

“can we try again?”

you suck in a breath at sakusa’s words. “what?”

“can we try again?”

and this time you blink, letting your sheer obliviousness keep you from what he’s asking for. maybe it’s out of ignorance, or maybe pure avoidance of the one thing you knew as your weakness.

he sighs, “us, can we try us again?”

and this time your heart races at his words.

“i let you go too soon,” he mumbles. “we could’ve fixed things but i walked away before we could even start.”

“it’s three am kiyoomi,” you cut in. “can we talk about this in the morning?”

but as sakusa stares at you, sleep hidden in your features, he lets his selfishness take over, because he can’t take these sleepless nights filled with regrets swimming in his mind. he can’t take the weight that constantly hung over his head, a weight of pure guilt.

“can we talk about it now?” he tries, voice soft, “please.”

and your eyes widen, because he’s never been this vulnerable with you before.

Keep reading

[lifewithroseglasses]

౨ৎ ⋆ ࣪ ˖ 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐭 . . . you claw at his back as he fucks you thoroughly, lovingly, with all the devotion in the world — as if you were someone who sat on a pedestal atop the heavens.

to kamo choso, you are.

nsfw content, minors do not interact ⊹ ‧ ₊˚ mechanic au. fem reader (you dress femininely, he calls you pretty girl and baby). mention of food. religious imagery. oral (fem receiving). unprotected piv sex. a creampie

word count ⊹ ‧ ₊˚ 2k

xoxo, roma ❤︎ wanted to post this before summer came to an end, so here you go ૮꒰ꔫ◞ ˬ ◟꒱ა i hope you will like it sobsobsob

sunday, 6:26 am

kamo choso has a habit of rising with the sun — when his bedroom is swarmed by a soft pink glow and the smell of last night’s passion still wafts in the air, alongside notes of your sweet perfume and his earthy cologne.

you have a habit of burying yourself into his side — of breathing him in and squeezing him tight, drowsy smile gently adorning your face as you convince him to stay in bed a little longer.

it’s all part of your softly crafted morning routine.

“okay, i’ll stay,” he replies with a hum as he rests his chin atop your head. “only for five minutes, though.”

your smile grows against his neck and you throw your leg over his hip. “how about ten?”

your lover smiles, you can feel it, and gives your ass a tiny pinch. “only ten.”

and so, for ten minutes, you bask in the sunlight and the beam of love choso gifts — nose squished into the crook of his neck, arms tightly wrapped around him, as he draws hearts on your back.

“see? wasn’t that so nice?” you ask, almost breathless.

“only ‘cause you’re here,” he kisses your forehead and untangles his body from yours to stand and start the day. “otherwise it would’ve been boring.”

you hug his pillow to your chest (you can’t seem to get enough of him) and admire his back as he stretches.

“what would you ever do without me?”

choso feigns being deep in thought. “i’d cease to exist.”

you giggle, forget about his pillow and crawl toward him to kiss the side of his neck, the expanse of his broad shoulders, and the bite mark you had left on his bicep last night (together with a smudge of lipstick).

“you’re so dramatic, my love.”

he turns to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “i learned it from you.”

you laugh and he stands, walks over to grab last night’s shirt — the one that fails to cover his deep v line, your absolute favorite.

“are you hungry? i’m craving fluffy pancakes and eggs.”

“we just woke up,” you smile, stand up and stretch as you follow him out the door. “how can you be craving fluffy pancakes and eggs?”

“i’m starving, baby.”

you follow him to the kitchen — where the tiles are cold and the large window over the sink lets you view a good chunk of the town below, along with most of the wilderness. where the cabinets are stocked with your favorite coffee and cookies and the freezer is filled with the most delicious ice cream and sorbet — all courtesy of your thoughtful choso.

“do you have any appointments today?” you ask, plop yourself down on the kitchen island as you watch him take a bite of a sweet leftover pastry from yesterday’s party.

your lover chews, then swallows. “nope,” he responds, places his hands on your knees, spreads your legs apart and stands in between them. “i’m all yours today.”

instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and twirl a strand of his hair on your finger.

“aren’t you mine every day?” you question, look at him with sleepy eyes and a faint smile — an expression that makes him want to eat you whole.

choso laughs through his nose, snuggles his face into your neck and breathes you in — like you have a habit of doing every morning without fail. “i’m especially yours today.”

“all day?”

“mhm,” he replies and parts from your body, only to take off your shirt. then, his mouth focuses on sucking your breast as his hand kneads the fat of your hip. “morning, noon, and night.”

your head droops to the side and you arch into him, fingers slicking his hair back as you lose yourself in the pleasure — pleasure that only heightens once he pushes your underwear to the side with the hand that had once been on your hip. he teases your slit, the tip of his middle finger probing your cunt.

this isn’t part of your softly crafted morning routine, but you’re not complaining — you can’t.

how could you?

“choso,” you say, breath ragged as you watch him go down to suck on your clit and continue to goad your hole. “i need you in me, please.”

your plea is quiet, drowned out by the life outside — the birds and their soft songs, the gentle flap of their wings. the bunny rustling through the bushes, acutely aware of the predatory fox. the bees buzzing from flower to flower.

choso hears you, though. it’d be impossible not to because (aside from the proximity), your lover is a devoted one.

“give me a minute, my love,” his tongue laps at your pussy, “i want to make you come on my tongue first.”

his devotion to you puts god’s disciples to shame.

with ease, choso delves his tongue into your gaping cunt — teases your clit with the bridge of his nose, makes you place your calves on his shoulders as he squeezes and squeezes your thighs.

“cho-choso,” you moan, right hand gripping his hair tightly as you grind against his face. “i’m about to come, choso.”

when you do, he groans into your sex and eats like a starved man.

the sticky summer heat and kamo choso’s love engulf you completely and absolutely — you’re covered in a light coat of sweat, the sun shines upon you tenderly, and you’re sure you could swallow god.

“you wanna hop in the shower?”

softly (what starlight would sound like, he thinks) you chuckle. “weren’t you starving?”

your lover hums, gives you a taste of yourself and rests his forehead against yours. “i’m full.”

you laugh through your nose. “okay.”

“yeah?”

you nod and he kisses you again.

“i’ll wash you from head to toe.”

wednesday, 7:38 pm

“who’s that?”

choso looks up from his notepad, toward his client, then to you in a light pink dress — a frown etched on your pretty face, cherry popsicle in your mouth, paper bag full of books in your arm as you try to close the stubborn lid of your trunk (something he’ll have to fix).

the sun — hung low in the sky, golden and mesmerizing — casts a beautiful glow upon your skin, illuminates your eyes and the red droplet that’s gliding down your exposed skin.

you’re a sight for sore eyes.

“my girl,” he rips his client’s bill from the notepad, startling him. “so don’t gawk too much.”

the client pays, nods in goodbye, and leaves the garage as you walk up the driveway, melting popsicle in hand.

“hello, lover.” you greet him with a kiss, stain his lips a feverish cherry red.

automatically, he wraps an arm around your waist and grabs the bag from your hold. kisses you more than usual, heavenly so.

“you’re so needy today.” you tease, give his ass a squeeze with your free hand before sucking on your melting popsicle.

he smiles. “i just missed you.”

you catch him staring at the tenacious treat in your hand. the way your tongue swirls over the soft, round tip.

you slurp a little hastily before smiling, “want some?”

“hmm?”

“try it,” you hold up the popsicle to his mouth and he obediently wraps his lips around the sweetness, his hand around yours. “it’s good, right?”

“yeah,” he replies, eats the popsicle whole, makes you burst out in laughter. “it’s really good.”

“that’s not fair — i still wanted more!”

“all’s fair in love and war.” he winks, turns around to place your paper bag on the table.

“you’ll have to make it up to me. it’s totally unfair.”

“really?”

“mhm,” you cross your arms, jut your hip to the side. “really.”

“let me make it up to you right now, then.” he wraps his arms around your middle, gropes your ass, and pushes you toward the side of the hood of his car — you smile wide, rest your arms on his shoulders, popsicle stick hanging loosely in between your fingers.

and oh, god — you can’t help but moan breathlessly at the feeling of his hard cock against you.

“since it’s very important. and totally unfair.”

“i’m glad you’re owning up to it.”

you kiss your lover in a frenzy (suck on his tongue, smile, moan) as he unbuttons his jeans in a haste — frees his dick, then devotes himself to you and your pleasure.

choso kisses the side of your neck, gently sucks until a heart shaped bruise blooms on your skin, lays you down on the hood of his car, and bunches your dress up to your hips — rubs his cock along your clothed cunt, revels in the feeling of you.

you drop the popsicle stick, cup his face in your hands, let your mouth fall open into an o, your breath hot against his mouth.

“that feel good, pretty girl?” his breaths are uneven, his eyes are clouded over with lust.

you breathlessly smile, “too good, choso.”

once your lover has deemed the two of you wet enough, he guides the head of his cock into your cunt with his left hand, all while holding your underwear to the side with his right (thumb rubbing hearts into your clit).

“o-oh.” you moan at the stretch, eyes rolling into the back of your head as choso thrusts deep inside of you.

the chain around his neck (a chain you gave him a week or so ago), slaps against your chin slightly.

“sorry, baby.” he smiles, pulls away — grabs the metal and places it in between his teeth.

you claw at his back as he fucks you thoroughly, lovingly, with all the devotion in the world — as if you were someone who sat on a pedestal atop the heavens.

to kamo choso, you are.

“you feel so good, my love,” choso shudders, teeth clenching his chain, elbow digging softly into the hood of his car, right beside your head. “fuck, i love you so much, baby.”

“i-i love you, too, choso.” you thrust your hips upward, the feeling of an undying need to feel him deeper inside of you overwhelming.

but you know he can satiate it.

“go deeper, cho — please. i n-need you so bad.”

with a strong hand, he grips the back of your thigh and bends it against you — fucks you deeper, harder, faster.

like an animal in heat, like a devout lover.

“a-ah, choso — just like that.”

it’s a heaven like scene, the one you and choso paint — fucking on top of the hood of his car, the garage door open, late afternoon sunlight filtering though the leaves. sweaty, consumed by love, in a haze.

“i’m gonna fill you up,” he grits through the chain, rests his sweaty forehead against yours. “fill you to the brim, pretty girl. ‘til it s-seeps out — ‘kay?”

you run your fingers through the front of his hair, tightly wrap your other leg around him, nod frantically, and look at him with all of the love in the universe.

“o-okay, choso.”

he continues to stimulate your erect bud, then buries all of his face into the side of your neck and breathes you in — your perfume, the summer heat that seems to cling to your body, a godlike wonder — before giving a final, incredibly deep thrust and —

“f-fuck, baby.”

he comes inside of you and the world shakes itself apart.

the chain slips from in between his teeth and you bring him up to you to kiss him — breathing heavy, teeth clashing, heart drowning in his love and devotion.

when his mouth leaves yours, a half smile adorns his face and he massages the spot on the backside of your thigh he had been gripping.

“i love you,” he kisses the flesh that’s bound to bruise. then, he kisses your sex. “i love you.” finally, he kisses your lips again. “i love you.”

you smile into his mouth. “and i love you, choso.”

and in that moment, kamo choso knows that he’ll be your forever devotee — until he ceases to exist, until the sun dies out.

taglist — thank you for being interested ꒰੭⸝��´`⸝⸝꒱੭ ❤︎

@toadtoru ﾉ @bungalowbear ﾉ @gunfiendbabymama ﾉ @devotion

[lifewithroseglasses]

DESCRIBING THE MOON SIGNS

some of these are based on the people I’ve met, so you may not resonate with some of it. there are also probably other aspects in your birth chart that say otherwise, so please read this with a grain of salt.

♨️ aries moon - such people have a subtle yet sharp look, often with a prominent feature like a wide forehead or a generally strong build. their fiery emotions are written all over their face, and you can spot their short fuse from a mile away. they’re not the type to bottle things up; it’s more like they need to let it out, erupting like a volcano. these folks are impulsive, prone to sudden outbursts, but surprisingly, they don’t hold onto grudges—they move on as fast as they flare up. they tend to have mood swings, being all emotional one minute and totally chill the next. there’s this childlike energy about them—they get hyped up easily and are full of passion. but just like kids, they can be pretty immature when it comes to handling their feelings. when they were young, they might have fought a lot due to their impatient nature and tendency to react quickly and get frustrated, but they eventually grow out of it. i know some aries moon peeps who get physical when they can’t calm down like throwing stuff, kicking around, or yelling and screaming to let out that frustration.

🍥 taurus moon - they’re really laid-back to be around, always giving off a calming vibe. picture doe eyes and soft, prominent cheek, kind of like a bambi. these individuals are typically grounded and don’t easily get irritated, but they know when to assert their boundaries. they prefer doing their own thing and steer clear of drama. however, they can be quite stubborn and once they’re fixated on something, it’s hard to sway them. emotions tend to linger with them for a long time because they manage them steadily and slowly. one thing about them: they despise being rushed. like typical taureans, they take their time with things and enjoy a slower pace. when they feel emotionally unsettled, they seek comfort, even if it’s not always the healthiest option, it helps them escape. they thrive in cozy, gentle environments, feeling most at ease when they’re at home. quite possessive people and can come across as controlling at times, especially with those they like; they tend to be fond of physical touch.

🗣️ gemini moon - they have really expressive eyes that light up when something catches their interest. always cracking jokes and endlessly curious, they’re a blast to be around. a bit scattered sometimes, but they’re great at keeping a conversation going. sharp as a tack, they might seem like a clown sometimes, but they’re actually deep thinkers. they are prone to mood swings; their minds are constantly buzzing with a million thoughts, which also impacts their mood. however, they don’t really express or dwell on these emotions much because their minds are wrapped up in their interests, which can make them come across as emotionally closed off. at other times, they tend to rationalize their emotions rather than genuinely feeling them. these people get extremely bored easily, constantly needing mental stimulation. hence, they have a need to always ask questions, to know everything and understand how things work, in order to keep their minds busy. they could be the type who has trouble sleeping because their minds won’t quiet down, and the same goes for their mouth.

🦀 cancer moon - very emotionally receptive, they can easily read and understand others just as much as they crave understanding for their own feelings. they feel things deeply and take it all to heart, often needing space to process. naturally nurturing, they care very deeply and want it to be acknowledged. they might be the one looking out for their siblings or the ’mom’ figure in their friend circle. when upset, they can be passive-aggressive, but most of the time, they keep their pain to themselves. their heightened sensitivity makes them get hurt more easily than others, which is why they sometimes come off as defensive. these people have a hard time moving on from the past and like to reminisce a lot. they remember every single thing, the good and the bad stuff people did to them, and when they’re not feeling right, they tend to hold onto grudges.

⚜️ leo moon - they are all about expressing themselves creatively, typically through singing and/or dancing. they are incredibly generous and always there for the people they cherish. however, i’ve noticed they can struggle with self-esteem, leading them to seek validation and acceptance. they have fragile egos and are extremely sensitive to criticism, often feeling challenged in their accomplishments or goals, even when that’s not the case. when they feel validated, they bring good vibes, filling up the room with warm, loving, and super enthusiastic energy—that’s just how they give back. they are prone to dramatic displays of emotions, often without realizing it, due to their naturally expressive and fierce nature. i’ve also noticed that they tend to talk a lot about themselves and may unintentionally interrupt or overlap in other people’s conversations. this can make them appear conceited, but they are just really eager to share a lot about themselves.

🔍 virgo moon - they’re super helpful, sometimes a bit too much, and very responsible. it’s like they think no one else is gonna sort stuff out, so they always step up as the “fixer” even when it’s not really their problem. they’re just really big on analyzing everything to get to the bottom of things. they can often seem all critical and constantly nitpicking, but really, it’s their way of helping you improve and showing they care. they notice every tiny detail, and if something’s off, it bugs them big time—total perfectionists. they’re pretty hard on themselves, likely due to early expectations and responsibilities weighing on them. they worry a ton, even about the small stuff, sometimes to an unhealthy level of obsession. they need a lot of alone time to process these thoughts, as they’re highly sensitive to their surroundings, which doesn’t quite help with their anxious tendencies. they can be self-conscious and prefer to keep their emotions in check, often analyzing their surroundings to gauge if it’s safe enough to express how they feel.

🧁 libra moon - these people are easy to hang out with—chill, laid-back, and down-to-earth. they prefer to keep things peaceful, so they can be somewhat passive and struggle to say no because they dislike upsetting people, which heavily impacts how they feel about themselves. confrontations aren’t their thing either, and setting boundaries isn’t their strong suit. they value fairness, detest any kind of injustice, and adhere to their morals. they’re open-minded, always looking at things from different angles, which makes people feel comfortable talking to them about anything. (they are also great listeners). they can be overly concerned about how they appear as they have a strong need to feel ”pretty” and liked. when decisions need to be made, they’re very indecisive and tend to let their friends choose for them. they dislike aggression and are put off by unnecessary meanness, as they themselves keep their less pleasant emotions in control without necessarily suppressing them. most people i’ve met with this have good facial harmony and are pleasing to look at.

🦂 scorpio moon - they might not seem like they’re paying attention, but believe me, they’re tuned in. you’ll be amazed by the random stuff they pick up just from quietly observing things and people. sometimes they don’t even have to actively watch; they just get it with one look, seeing through the facade because they operate similarly, like hiding behind that secretive and mysterious wall that they cling onto. they have zero tolerance for dishonesty, and the ones i’ve met with this are extremely blunt. nothing gets past them; they can sniff out lies or insincerity from a mile away. like all water signs, they’re super sensitive but get triggered easily. oh, and they can hold a grudge forever. they’ll remember what you did to them five years ago and still think you haven’t changed. they might seem chill on the outside, but inside, there’s a whirlwind of intense emotions that can erupt suddenly. they probably struggle with talking about their feelings and, with their secretive nature, you’ll never really know what’s going on with them.

🎃 sagittarius moon - adventurous folks who are always down for a good time, even if it gets them into trouble. they find optimism and humor in everything, so it’s pretty easy to lighten up their mood. they’re strong-willed and passionate about their feelings, not holding back when they speak their mind. sometimes they crack jokes at the wrong time or in a way that might offend—it’s just their impulsive nature. despite that, they’re incredibly cheerful and goofy, always ready to laugh and spread their enthusiastic energy. sometimes they can come off as ’know-it-alls’ without trying to be arrogant; they’re just super into their optimistic wisdom. many of them may have travelled a lot growing up or just liked to wander outside instead of staying indoors—the type who were always out exploring the city. they dislike uptight, dependent people; they need someone who can loosen up and loves freedom as much as they do. being tied down in any way is their worst nightmare, so good luck trying to control them.

💼 capricorn moon - these people can keep their cool even in tough situations. they’re not into big emotional displays and often come off as closed off or shy. it takes them a while to open up because they don’t think it’s necessary. although they are not unemotional; in fact, they care and love very deeply but are more private about it. they probably grew up in a household where showing emotions was restricted, or they had to grow up fast due to responsibilities. they might also have a hard time showing vulnerability and are super protective of themselves. they’re incredibly self-reliant and independent and sometimes feel guilty about asking for help. they give the best advice, but don’t count on it to cheer you up because they’re all about logic and practicality. sometimes, they keep their problems to themselves because they don’t like feeling like a burden to anyone, or they simply feel like no one cares.

🌀 aquarius moon - constantly feeling misunderstood, they feel like people talk more than they know. are humanitarian, but at the same time, they hate people. they are highly observant and can naturally grasp people’s minds and behaviors. they cherish their independence and personal space, which means they don’t do well with clingy people. consequently, they keep most people, including friends, at arm’s length. these people are pretty good at hiding their emotions. they aren’t likely to be very grand in expressing how they feel, which is why they can sometimes come across as detached. at times, they just process their emotions differently. i see them as being more rational and logical in their approach. also, they may find it challenging or uneasy to cope with deep feelings of vulnerability. very super accepting of people because they’ve been there themselves—being the odd one out. intelligent people can sometimes be very stubborn and think they are always right.

🐟 pisces moon - they are very empathetic and compassionate, making them great listeners. however, they often feel emotionally overwhelmed because they easily absorb other people’s pains and problems. sometimes, they struggle to understand and express their own emotions due to their impressionable nature. highly sensitive to their surroundings, they pick up on every subtle detail that others often miss, which can be overwhelming. they also find themselves easily drained in busy environments, constantly absorbing the emotions and energies around them. therefore, they require ample downtime in peaceful, quiet settings to recharge. they can feel like their needs get ignored and that they end up giving way more than they get back. one thing about them, though, is they tend to be very passive to the point where they can easily be taken advantage of, which is something they need to work on to build more assertion. the people i’ve met with this moon were exceptionally talented, whether in art, writing, or any other form of expression.

[lifewithroseglasses]

summary: some days follow sakusa home, settle into his bones and tangle up inside him. but you are there to help him through the careful work of settling himself again. 

content notes: sfw; all comfort; neuro-divergent sakusa; verbal shutdown/speech-loss; sakusa feels he’s hard to love because of symptoms™️; established relationship; love is stored in the kitchen

edit 5 feb 2024: updated/corrected content notes

Sakusa’s fingers are jittery as he unlocks his apartment door. Tight pressure is coiled all through his body, stale energy and roiling discomfort deep in his chest. His ears hurt from wearing his mask. It all ebbs a bit as he steps inside and he’s back in the safety of his home.

Methodically, he unhooks his mask, places his keys in their bowl, stows his bag, and kneels to untie his shows. He pulls them off and sets them in their spot on the rack, adjusting them to line up next to yours.

When he trudges into the living room, you look up from where you’re reading on the couch. You smile at him and Kiyoomi aches. He stands in the middle of the room, fidgeting.

“Hey there, Kiyoomi,” you say.

Keep reading

[lifewithroseglasses]

he is relaxed in his jammies with a nice warm drink

[lifewithroseglasses]

x

[lifewithroseglasses]

Based on this twitter trend