#Blue Lock Codes

[aitechtonicinfo]

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[cheralith]

imagine you're getting married to kaiser and even though you're the bride, it's him that turns into an absolute bridezilla.

initially, you thought it'd just be a small event between you and him—just going down to city hall and be done with it—but when you had sleepily confessed to him one quiet night as he played with your fingers that maybe in another life, you'll get a traditional wedding, kaiser's determined to make sure you get what you want in this one.

and this guy kinda goes a bit bonkers. he's got everything planned in meticulous detail in this binder he carries around everywhere with all the information one could possibly need—vendor info, list of caterers, drafts of the schedule for d-day. at first, you think it's sweet, that he's going all the way for you and him. until he goes... a little too far.

he once grossly spat out his bite of a sample black forest cake right in front of the baker. "this is an insult to germany itself. never bake this again if you know what's best for you."

"i thought i asked for silk tablecloth with the chiffon runner?" he seethed at one caterer, grabbing the fabric and bunching it in his fist. "you thought you could fool me with this cheap-ass polyester?"

"i don't give a single shit if they're out of season," he cussed at one of the florists over the phone. "get me those tan hua flowers for my wedding or so god help me."

the list of caterers in his binder grows narrower and narrower—with some of their services slashed by kaiser due to "incompetence"(kaiser's words, not yours) or they flat-out refused to provide service to you due your fiance's temperament.

you tell him multiple times that this doesn't have to be a big event he has to stress over, that all you want is for you to tie the knot and to devote yourself to each other, but all kaiser does is kiss your forehead and tell you that he's got it covered.

"what kind of husband would i be if i didn't make my beloved's wishes come true, mein schatz?"

[kxsagi]

ITS FINALLY MAY 1ST!!!!

i’m back and ready to request >:3

how about a oneshot with sae itoshi with a reader who’s like a cat. the reader wants to always be around him, on his lap, biting his cheeks to annoy him, always asking to be carried, hisses at him, getting head pats, and just taking care of the reader in general. sae really loves this cause he loves having the reader depend on him, he loves taking care of her

tyty in advance sorry if it’s complicated

“𝐜𝐚𝐭-𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝”

a/n: this is my first time writing this kind of thing so i apologize if it’s not the best or what you want 😭

you stretch your arms out like a lazy housecat as sae opens the door for you to his apartment, immediately greeting him with a humming sound that makes him snort. before he can even close the door, you’ve already dropped your bag and thrown yourself onto the couch, curling up like it's your designated nap spot. it basically is. his whole apartment basically is. 

he doesn't even ask. he just walks over, scoops you up in one smooth motion like he’s cradling a giant cat, and you immediately nuzzle into his neck with a satisfied sigh. 

"you're so clingy," he mutters, but his voice is soft, amused. affectionate. 

"mm, carry me to the kitchen?" you mumble into his sweater, ignoring him completely. "i'm hungry. i want strawberries." 

"you have legs." 

"i have you," you say with a sly smirk. 

he rolls his eyes, but the smile tugging at the corner of his lips betrays him. you don’t see it, but you can feel it in the way his arms tighten around you just a little. 

he rests you onto the counter like a cat who refuses to use the floor. you sit cross-legged, swinging your feet, watching him open the fridge with a focused little squint. 

"where’d you hide them," he murmurs. 

"bottom drawer. your strawberries are in the top drawer. mine are in the pink tupperware." 

he pauses and looks back at you. "... and why do you have your own strawberry stash?" 

you grin, flashing teeth. "because yours suck." 

sae raises an eyebrow. he says nothing. he simply grabs the pink tupperware and pops one in your mouth. 

you purr. literally. a little humming noise with your eyes closed. he chuckles under his breath. 

"spoiled," he says. 

"mhm." 

later, you’re draped across his lap like you own it, because, well, you do. he’s scrolling on his phone with one hand and running the other through your hair like it's muscle memory. 

your tail, if you had one, would be swishing. 

his legs are warm, and his fingers are heaven on your scalp, and you’re so comfy and so at peace until – "hey," you say, poking his cheek with your finger. 

he hums in response. 

"look at me." 

"i’m literally looking at you all day," he says flatly, not looking at you. 

"sae." 

he finally glances down at you, bored but tolerant. 

you lean up and bite his cheek. lightly. enough to annoy, not enough to injure. then you retreat, smug. 

"the hell was that," he deadpans. 

"you weren’t paying attention to me." 

he grabs your chin with one hand, squishing your cheeks. "is this how you protest now?" 

"head pats or no more cuddles," you mumble through the squish. 

he stares. then leans down and kisses your squished face anyway. "idiot." 

it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep in his lap shortly after, curled up like a tiny menace with your face smushed against his hoodie. and he just… lets you. 

he doesn’t shift. he doesn’t move. he even puts his phone down after a while just to gently scratch your head and stare at you – messy-haired, face relaxed, mouth slightly open. like the world's clingiest, neediest cat. 

and the thing is… he likes it. 

no, loves it. 

he loves that you always crawl into his bed like it’s yours. he loves that you make those bratty little hissing noises when he teases you. he loves that you need him to carry you, feed you, pet you, love you. 

because he does. 

he loves taking care of you. 

and maybe you’re clingy and needy and half-feral, but he’s never been the type to care for ordinary things. 

so he strokes your hair again, sighs quietly, and whispers into your ear: "you’re my favorite stray." 

you smile in your sleep. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[fish-with-more-eyes]

[ids in alt]

more tarots!

reasoning below the cut:

sae: temperance — for his calmness and clear vision

shidou: the devil — canon theming + lust/base vices

[serasmores]

the first time you noticed his eyesight getting weaker was when he was reading a book.

he sat on the far end of the couch, leaning on a soft, round cushion behind him, a leg crossed over the other. his head rested on his knuckles while the other hand held the book by its spine.

even from the kitchen, you could hear him emit a low gruff under his breath. quiet, subtle, frustrated. you would've missed it from the way your mind constantly drifts from one space to another, swallowed by a void that leaves you with no thoughts to entertain yourself with — because home today had apparently learned how to be silent. eerily so.

and that's exactly why. in silence, you can hear everything. maybe the world decided it was best if you take a break from noise; since only then could you stop in your tracks and notice small, almost hidden details of your world. your home.

in silence, you began to wander. your ears drowned in on the ticking hands of the clock, relentless and irritatingly inconsiderate. yet it was lulling. then your focus drifted to how the fridge seemed to click then rattle, and somehow there was a persistent humming ringing into your ears that won't go away even when the pan clacked against the stove and you flipped the pancake with a wooden spoon. it reminded you of the old timed when the old television in your childhood home showed distorted rainbow and made loud static and incoherent buzzes when a lightning hits the antennae and your father had to climb up the roof to find the right angle to make it work again despite the chances that the lightning would hit him next.

luckily, that never happened. thankfully.

you heard him shuffling on the couch, how the pages fluttered when he turned to the next one. even when he ran his fingers through his scalp as a strand of his hair fell just enough to caress the skin below his eyes. just enough to irritate him. he did the motion once again, then another, until his mouth scrunched up to one side, and he pursed his lips and exhaled deeply.

you glanced at him, quite secretively, from the corner of your eyes, but your gaze must have lingered for a second more than what was comfortable; because he noticed and composed himself — shifting in his position so he could sit straight, shoulders tense, and the soles of his feet suddenly grounded to the floor — then he went back to read the book as indifferently as his facial expressions could muster.

you don't realize the pancake was burning already. it sizzled, the smell of cinder wafting through the kitchen and tickled your nose. there was ash creeping on its edges, the crusts thick and stiff, staining the pan with its residue. you turned off the heat and placed the pancake at the bottom of the plate along with the others which, in comparison, looked far less gloomy and more delightful in taste.

you walked up to him and plopped on the couch beside him, the plate served on the center table along with two cups of coffee served hot. he dropped the book on his lap and snaked an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. he puffed his cheeks and pressed a kiss on your lips. deliberate and brief but he dawdled. wanted more of you, longer, almost as if he tasted something sweeter in them, although you were pretty sure your mouth was dry and they reeked of something foul because of sleep. like expired milk bread, since that was the last thing you ate yesterday.

your head leaned on his shoulder, legs spread out on the couch as you shifted your entire weight on him. he didn't seem to mind, even adjusted his position so your back was against his chest instead. he snuck his head in the space under your ear, both arms now wrapped around you — one held the book so you could read it too while the other one gently tapping the side of your stomach with two fingers respectively. he was tapping in the same beats that your hearts did, or maybe he was singing in his head the song he sang to you before, that enthralled you into a lifetime relationship with him.

you love to hear his voice. whatever he sang, whatever he said. that much was true — but there was more to it than the naked eye could see or rather, your ears could hear. the tip of an iceberg. your love for him stems from more than just his voice or that he allured you into this. he's an enigma. someone who could make you withstand the flames of hell, and at the same time give you a taste of heaven. it's been years since he kissed your hands and (with an emphasis —because he often, if not always, found a way to kiss or adore every inch of your skin) vowed to god — “until death do us apart” — yet sometimes when you look at him, you wonder if this was all simply a part of a grander scheme.

he's the kind of dream you'd go into a coma for, if it meant seeing him even if they were simply fragments that your mind made up to console you. he could tell you that the earth is flat and you'd believe him without question. he could point a gun in your neck and you'd suck off his fingers before intertwining your own with his and pull the trigger yourself.

you held the book by its spine — or it was more of an excuse to hold his hand. he grabbed a cup on the table and took a long sip, before taking a spoonful of the pancakes.

“these words are too small,” you complained, “i can't read them.”

you could see them perfectly fine. just that you wanted to see if he would read them out loud. maybe you could kiss him out of the blue or even better, do exactly as the characters in the book did. although you would have to suggest him to read a different kind of book then.

“really?” he pondered, grabbing another spoon but this time it was for you. “i thought it was just me.”

you munched. the pancakes were soft, and they easily melted on your tongue. its sweet, buttery fragrance together with the bitter and strong aroma of the coffee — cozy, serene, and just… irreplaceable. hitting your nose in the most comfortable way possible. and this — nothing could ever replace quiet mornings with him. your days with him, life with him. home. with him.

he's home.

and he's home. where his shoulders could be slumped and your eyes could be drooped and your mouths be crooked at ease. not a frown or an overly-enthusiastic smile. just in peace, at ease. never forced.

“just you?” you asked. stirring your cup with a spoon before taking a sip.

“i don't know. they seem… clouded, i think,” he said, “like when you cry as a child because you can't solve 5+7, and accidentally wrote the answer below the equal sign instead of the blank next to it.”

“what did the teacher say?”

“my father? he was disappointed. so i cried louder.”

“oh…,” you chuckled, then pointed to a random excerpt, “can you try to read this part?”

he squinted his eyes, nose scrunched up, and he tilted his head. there were tears pooling in his eyes, not caused by sadness or melancholy. he wasn't about to cry, they were simply dry. he drawled on the longer words no matter how simple, which he could've pronounced better if he recognized the shapes or the outlines of the letters at least.

he read: “…‘well, i agree — that you definitely hated betrayals the most, traitors the second, and liars the third. i can't quite say the same thing for me though, now and then.’

she stood in place, back against him, unmoving. but the words she uttered next left him devastated, and… even more confused?

‘because i chose to fall in love with you even if you were all three.’

— then it hit him. that was the key to the pandora's box, that was himself before he lost his memories.”

(a/n: yes, i am promoting my wip here hahaha)

“that's… hauntingly beautiful,” you commented, “where did you get this?”

“a co-worker gave it me. said it was boring and too tragic for liking.”

you nodded, lifting your head to stare up at him. your forehead nudging his chin. “anyway,” you gave his neck a peck, “my highschool friends and i planned a reunion by the end of the month. i'll need to buy them some gifts sooo let's head out later — then we can get your eyes checked while on it. sounds good?”

“mhm,” his body slumped against you, one hand pulling you in impossibly closer. not quite gentle but his grip didn't hurt either. there was something more in the way he touched, something tucked away in his eyes — that want, that need, that urge to keep you for himself and himself only. but then he thought, would that make you happy at all?

so for now, he huffed. his breath warm against your neck, enough to send a shiver down your spine. and heat to your core. you squirmed. for now, he can only hold you in his arms, close his eyes, and drown himself into your scent.

“yeah, let's do that.”

you were already his, and he doesn't know it yet (probably) but you would gladly lock yourself and him in this house if that meant reassuring him you were only, has always been, and will always choose to be his.

—

[yukinohiko]

something about domestic sae. brewing coffee and placing it by the bedside table. café con leche. the rich smell; late afternoon sun through the curtains. the way it catches his eyes as he gazes at you, bundled in blankets. soft smiles; quiet voices. he doesn’t leave and you don’t get up, finding yourselves both entangled in the sheets until you don’t know where you end and he begins.

[queenendless]

🎄💋Merry Kiss💋🎄

Pairing: Various Aged Up Adult Characters x Adult!GN!Reader

CW: Basic holiday content with implied lovemaking at the end.

Happy Holidays!

Oh the holidays. The snow be falling. The lights be glowing. The discount bargain sales. Reds greens and yellows are the color scheme of this month. You couldn't be immune to the cheery merry sensations. In your cozy decorated home on Christmas Eve, your significant other keeps an arm draped around you or holding your hand tenderly the whole night. Whether it be curling up together lost in your own starry eyed world or cuddling and immersing in your shared warmth. Through the hearty feast, the eggnog and cider, even the Christmas movie marathon, sharing this time of year with them swelled up your heart. To their surprise, mistletoe lined the ceiling all over. To their delight, you showered them in tender, burning passionate smooches. One thing leads to another, clothing falling and decorating the floor, as your bare bodies grew entangled in the thralls of passion before the crackling fireplace. As the clock tolls midnight, you both came with creamy thick pleasure. Bidding each other a Merry Christmas before savoring another few rounds of merry making throughout the powdery twinkling night. Awakening to the sunrise of Christmas Day, to where more kisses and smashes became your gift to one another. What a way to spend the holidays.

[merlucide]

Incorrect Quote pt1

them: You look pretty…

y/n: What did you say?

them: uhhh- I said you look shitty!

MEGUMI!!!, MAKI, SANEMI, BAKUGOU, tsukkishima, KAGEYAMA, sakusa, RAICHI, KAISER, RIN ITOSHI

[cheezritsu]

The story of how you and Reo Mikage became friends isn’t overly exciting, but it’s a necessary tangent. A precursor, really.

Reo is a collector of impossible things. Call it a byproduct of being rich. His favorite things of all are the things he can’t have. He plays soccer as a dream; a sport he has no business being in as it brings no value to his future fortune. His best friend is a reclusive giant who seems to barely tolerate him. Which, eh. Nagi is his treasure—he’s the person that never bullshits him, the person who says what he’s thinking no matter what. Nagi feels like a compass the same way you do: if Nagi truly hates it, it’s probably worth letting go.

You and Nagi are alike in so many ways: you’re something he took the time to dig in the dirt for, only to polish it and realize it’s precious. A friend he shouldn’t have because your social status deems it so. A treasure born from nothing but whim. Something to chase. Something he can love.

Reo Mikage loves you both, which is why when Reo meets Nagi for the first time, he makes you go to karaoke together.

He’s an actual idiot for making the quietest people he knows go to karaoke, but he lets you bring your friends to be comfortable and invites his entire soccer team for Nagi. “For” being the operative word here. None of this is for either of you. It’s all for Reo.

You don’t mind. Not really. You love Reo too. Reo escapes to you and Aiura’s dorm when he doesn’t wanna go home. Which, with the ongoing soccer drama, has been more frequent. You’re in the same class again, this time sitting next to each other. Reo really is a prince that way, protecting you from gossip and bullies, brandishing his smile the way one uses a rapier. Efficiently and lethally. Aiura also sits next to you, but it’s been the Reo show since school started.

Aiura twirls the boba straw in her drink as you stare absently at Reo. Your karaoke room is—shocker—the biggest one they have. It’s decked out in all signature silly decorations. Reo is literally standing atop the huge long table with the rest of his team, the boys loudly singing Fighting Dreamers. They’re moshing and having fun, save for the white haired boy being jostled under Reo’s hooked arm.

“Who’s Snow White?” Aiura jokes, but it’s a good nickname for him. He’s sleepy looking, with low lidded dark eyes and a neutral expression one might only get when they hit the pillow. He blinks slowly and slumps out of Reo’s grip, falling back on the bench and staying there.

“You ever met him before?”

“Nope.”

Hina and Aiura shake their drinks in the same circular motion. The syncronity feels condescending. “Reo seems chummy with him. You for real don’t know him?”

There it is. You roll your eyes. “I don’t know everyone he knows. You know how it is,” you shift your gaze back to the karaoke stage, seeing Reo bleat out the first verse of MCR’s Helena. A personal favorite of his for no reason. His soccer team is cheering relentlessly, like he’s Gerard Way reincarnated.

Reo’s lifestyle is a revolving door of people. You needn’t learn names because in several weeks time, like a micro trend, they’ll be gone.

Aiura hums. Behind her lime green manicured hand she whispers something to Hina, who whispers back.

“Streets is sayin’ that’s Nagi Seishiro.”

The name isn’t familiar. You two just shrug.

“So, another boy?”

“Another boy,” you sigh. Reo didn’t have many girl friends that weren’t girlfriends. You usually liked them, until the feeling was unrequited. They hated your presence and Reo, who was sharper than most gave him credit for, broke up with them when he found out.

“You mean more to me than they do.”

You never let the charming words coil around your heart. Reo was a smooth talker, but at his core he’s just another rich boy. And you haven’t any interest in that.

“I fucking better,” is your reply, with a hardy punch.

These days Reo usually has the company of a soccer team member, some underclass man who thinks the real resume grabber is knowing Reo Mikage. Not a bad thought, but it still makes you frown.

Seishiro Nagi may be another one of those boys. He drinks from his soda cup with a bendy straw, barely moving his neck forward to meet it. The pitch of the room skyrockets as another anime opening scrolls across the screen, and Nagi’s face creases in discomfort. With his eyes pinched closed and a scrunched nose, he looks just like a disgruntled cat. You try to swallow your involuntary giggle, but Aiura and Hina catch it.

Hina stretches her neck. “What’re you giggling about?”

“Nothing,” you garble around a mouth full of boba.

“Don’t try to distract me by grossing me out.”

Aiura narrows her eyes. If a thousand yard stare could be pointed, that’s what she does. “It’s the boy.”

“Reo?” Hina asks, and you snort.

“Since when is Reo “the boy”?”

Hina rolls her eyes. “Since you had a public meet cute in the quad?”

Phlegm probably escapes you from how hard you scoff. “We had a Mexican standoff??”

“Y’all argued at best,” Aiura defends.

“You weren’t evened there!” Aiura bats away your accusatory finger with a quick roll of her eyes. “The point still stands. Reo was never “the boy.” “

“The boy is Nagi Seishiro,” Aiura nods in the direction. Nagi’s fluffy white hair reflects all the lights beautifully, like a neon halo.

“Didn’t Reo throw this party for yall to meet?”

That premise has fully eluded you. “Damn, you’re right.”

“Well he sucks as a host. You should introduce yourself.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he’s leaving.”

The room is a chaotic wonderland of yelling, singing and courting. A few of the players on the team try to flirt with your friends, mostly to no avail. Reo, being the common denominator in some way, fractions his attention to everyone except the guests of honor, who have slipped out under his nose.

It wasn’t your intention to follow Nagi. You really were not going to introduce yourself. You just needed air.

You sit down on the bench just outside the room. The pulsing beat of the next song reverbs out into the empty hallway. It’s kind of soothing to be on the outside again; you’re back in the peripheral, a comfortable spot. Flipping through your phone, you found the otome game currently ruining your wallet; an American based game called The Arcana. You had daily spins to replenish, hopefully a way to get more keys for your story.

You criss cross your legs, settling in. You play the slots first, getting a few coins but no keys. The second game was always a gamble; you had four lives total, meaning four keys to potentially win. You’re good mini games. They’re fun to hone in on and lose yourself in the task. The absolutely gorgeous characters aren’t bad to look at either. You hunch forward to giggle at the little romance scenarios that play out, shutting out the world around you. Shutting out Nagi Seishiro, who stands before you.

Nagi stares at the barely visible sliver of your screen. He thought maybe you were on Instagram or Snapchat, but as it turns out you’re playing something. Something he doesn’t know.

He tilts his head trying to get a better look. Your curly hair blocks his vision of the phone. Nagi has never seen hair like yours in person. It really does look like springs; small, shiny little spirals radiating out from the top of your head. Is it soft? How could it be?

Nagi is so lost in the uzumaki like spirals of your hair that he brings the back of his hand to the top your head and skims his knuckles over it and oh-

It’s fairy soft and defying gravity. The little coil bounces, and Nagi’s about to wrap it around his finger when he looks down.

“Wh-“ your startled gasp reminds him of why he’s here. You’re looking up, and past your chin is your unlocked phone. He’s never seen those characters before; they’re beautifully drawn, and decidedly not Japanese.

“Hey, what game is that?” The same finger that was inches from your head points into your lap. Your brows scrunch.

“What?”

“The game? On your phone?” Nagi gets tired of standing and sits beside you. His thigh brushes against your bare knee and the friction feels like lava. “Is it fun? The graphics are pretty.”

Nagi finally looks at your face. He decides that if you were drawn in that art style it would suit you. Unreal, gravity defying hair, pretty eyes framed with crazy long lashes, and lovely lips with an almost two-toned saturation that draws attention, even though you’re fighting for your next words.

“It’s called The Arcana,” you say, but it’s drawn out like you’re going to say more. Nagi waits, and then hears “Did you just touch my hair?”

“Oh?” Nagi’s lips purse, like a pout but more sheepish. He didn’t think you’d noticed. Well, that was a lie, but he didn’t think you’d care. Don’t girls think stuff like that is cute?

“I’m sure some girls do, but this ain’t a petting zoo.” Shit, he said that out loud. And you’re upset. Fuck. He’s like 100% sure that you’re Reo’s friend. His best friend, the one he’s always talking about. The one he borrows books from that have those colored tabs. The one he’s always buying trinkets for. Like the little phone strap you’ve got with—who is that, is it Itadori Yuji?

“Hey!” There you go again, making Nagi feel bad for not listening. The pout reappears on his face, before he slumps back.

This feels weird. Nagi’s having…emotions now and it sucks. It’s bothersome. But, he doesn’t feel inconvenienced by you, he feels inconvenienced by himself. He’s making himself feel stupid and that’s far worse than sitting next to you.

Nagi’s head hits the wall. “M’sorry,” he slurs lazily, turning his head to properly meet your eyes. “I didn’t mean that. Your hair’s pretty, that’s all.”

Oh. The words are blunt force trauma, the head of a baseball bat butted into your sternum. The perpetual drowsiness in his voice makes it feel more like the truth; someone that tired wouldn’t have it in them to lie, right?

You swallow down the damage done to your heart. “Still doesn’t mean you can touch it without permission.”

“Hmm.” Is all he says, staring vacantly for a second. And then “well, can I?”

You’re either dumb or whipped for saying yes. One is far worse than the other. But Nagi Seishiro is gentle when he plucks out a particular curl and runs it between his fingers. Deftly, sweetly, his finger hooks onto the end of the curl and it twirls around the digit. His hands are much bigger than you initially thought. You’re going cross eyed looking at them.

“That’s cool,” Nagi says, and a small smile graces his features. His eyes are actually grey up close. Smokey, endless, and all at once those sleepy, feline like crescents. “Thanks.”

No one’s ever thanked you for touching your hair. No one’s ever been that reverent about it either. Nagi pulls his hand away like he’s finally been sated, drawing his knees up to mimick your criss crossed legs.

“M’ Nagi, by the way.” His belated introduction is funnier in hindsight. It’s very Nagi; satisfy the curiosity first, then do the regular stuff. “Reo dragged me here.”

“Me too. I’m y/n.”

“Are you going to be around more?”

Nagi’s pulling out his phone. You aren’t sure how to answer his question. You’re pretty much always around, whatever Nagi meant by that. Unless he meant more around him.

There’s a spiking heat under your cheeks, something you don’t wanna bring attention to. He seems to have forgotten your existence, looking down at the loading screen off his App Store. But he doesn’t type anything for a minute. He’s waiting.

Nagi shrugs. “You’re less of a hassle than he is.” His thumb presses up to the search icon. “How do you spell Arcana?”

[nakidoriii]

Kungami x Fem!Reader Oneshot

(mentions of Chigiri x fem!reader)

Warning: flirting, mostly fluff, adult themes || MDNI

Art: Pinterest (if you know the artist tag them!)

It was your second spring in Japan. Last year, you made the decision to study abroad and attend a university in Japan. The school happily accepted you considering that you had stellar grades and an extensive background in music. You had just finished practicing piano for the day. The sun was just beginning to set. You took your usual route home, passing the soccer field on the way. The players were out practicing as per usual.

“CHIGIRI, PASU (pass)!” A deep voice yells.

You keep walking, wanting to watch them play but too nervous they might say something to you. You stare down at your phone, texting your best friend.

“KIWOTSUKERO (Watch out)!” That same deep voice yells.

You look up and see a soccer ball coming straight at you. You froze and didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, one of the players ran in front of you in time and blocked you from getting hit.

“Anata wa kanojo ni hobo butsukatta (you almost hit her).” He says as he kicks the ball back to the magenta haired player.

His kick was so….powerful.

“Thank you for saving me…gomen’nasai… Watashi o sukutte kurete arigatō. Daijōbu desu ka? (sorry… Thank you for saving me. Are you okay?).” You say getting his attention.

He turns around and faces you. He was really cute. His ginger hair was sticking to his forehead due to him sweating. He towered over you even though you weren’t a short girl. He had to be around 6’2. He smiles at your comment and says, “Hurt from a weak kick like that? Nah, it’ll take a lot more than that. Are you okay?”

Oh, you love his confidence! And he’s bilingual like you! He knows you’re not from here just by looking at you. You nod your head yes and say, “Right!”

He notices you holding a binder with music notes all over it and points at it in your hands. “I always see you carrying that binder. What instrument do you play?”

‘Always see me? Has he noticed me before?’ You think.

“Piano and I sing.” You answer confidently.

“You must be good. You answered so confidently. I’d love to hear you.” He states.

“As a thank you for saving me, I’ll play you for you anytime.” You tease.

“How about tomorrow? I’m free from practice.” He asks.

“Sure, you can meet me in front of the music building at 4pm.” You say as you hug on your binder.

“I’ll be there. I’m Kunigami, by the way. Kunigami Rensuke. What’s your name?” He asks, playing it cool.

“L/N, F/N. Nice to meet you.” You say.

“Nice to meet you too. I’d ask to exchange contact information but I don’t have my phone on me so I'll get it from you tomorrow, kay?” He says looking down at you.

“I look forward to it.” You say.

“Me too, see you then.” As he runs back on the field, you take notice of his jersey number, 9.

You continue your walk, trying to hide your smile as you walk past him and the rest of his team mates. Once the coast is clear, you call your best friend. You met her through a chatroom, during your freshman year of highschool. Her username was kittybabez and yours was memeow. You two bonded over manga, food, and your love for cats. Because of the usernames, you call her Kat and she calls you Mimi. Since you lived across the world from Kat, you had never met her person until you two got accepted to study abroad in Japan. Your relationship grew stronger once you moved in together. Kat was a couple inches shorter than you and wore her hair in braids most of the time. You both were psychology majors, however you specialized in music therapy.

“Hey love, are you on the way home?” Kat says as she answers the phone.

“Yes, I am. You will not believe what just happened to me, Oh my God!” You say out of sheer excitement.

“I’m listening…”

“A soccer player just saved me from a ball hitting me!! He asked me if I was okay and I was like ‘yea’, and I asked if he was okay…which was stupid because… duh he plays soccer… I’m sure he gets hit all the time…. anyway, he was like ‘a weak kick like that!? Nahhh, it’ll take a lot more to hurt me.’ I DIDN'T EVEN TELL YOU HOW HE KICKED THE BALL BACK!! HE'S SO STRONG!!! Okay, okay…the moral of the story is that he wants to watch me play piano tomorrow after classes AND he said he wants my contact info tomorrow.” You ramble.

“GIIIIRRRLLLL, what’s the number on his jersey? I’m looking him up on the uni website. I have to see what he looks like.” She says, laptop ready to go.

“Number 9. His name is Kunigami.” You say.

You hear her typing on the other end of the phone until she goes, “Mimi, he’s your type. DON’T suck his dick in the practice room.” She jokes.

“Remind me to never tell you anything ever again.” You say with a straight face.

Kat bursts out laughing and says, “Hurry up and come home so we can have dinner!!!”

“I’m almost there! Be there in 5!” You say as you hang up the phone.

You spend the rest of your walk thinking about how tomorrow will go. You never thought you’d be into the jock type but Kunigami was different. Obviously, you don’t know this man but he had a gentle demeanor about him. You couldn’t wait to talk to him again and learn more about him. Once you get home, you take off your shoes at the door and say, “I’m home.”

“About time. We have to address the elephant in the room. What are you wearing when you see Kunigami?” She says coming out of her room.

“Do you think I should go preppy or casual? I want to be authentic and not get all dressed up for the first hang out.” You say setting your bag down on the couch.

“Then wear what you usually wear. I think you should show your legs though. If he plays football, he’s probably got a thing for nice legs and you got ‘em.” She says.

You gasp and let out a, “Oh my god!”

“WHAT!” She jumps.

“I called it soccer, not football.” You whine. You didn’t realize that you said neither to him actually.

Your friend rolls her eyes and laughs.

“I’m sure he clocked that you’re American just by talking to you. Don’t sweat it! Let’s go pick out this outfit.” Your friend says as she drags you to your room.

************************NextDay*********************

“Behave yourself, Mimi. You hear me?” Kat says as she fixes the silver clips in your locs.

You ultimately decided to wear a white sweater that hugs your figure and falls slightly off your shoulder. You paired that with a pleated grey miniskirt skirt and Doc Martin boots.

You roll your eyes as you groan the words, “I hear you...”

“Your ass is not listening.” She laughs as she finishes primping you. “He should be here soon. Nervous?”

“Kinda, but I'm more excited. It’s the same feeling I get before a performance.” You admit.

In the distance, you see Kunigami and a magenta haired guy with him. You tap Kat’s shoulder and nod in their direction. She raises her eyebrows and whispers, “Did he bring a team mate?”

“Looks like it.” You whisper back.

Once they get close enough, you turn in their direction and wave.

“Y/N.” Kunigami says as he walks up to us.

“Hey, hero! Glad you could make it. This is my friend, [name], but I call her Kat.” She waves and makes eye contact with Kunigami’s friend.

You and Kunigami both notice they’ve locked eyes.

“Nice to meet you. This is Hyoma Chigiri, one of my teammates.” Kunigami says.

“You can call me Chigiri.” He states.

“I brought him here to apologize to you. He’s the one who kicked the ball that almost hit you.” Kunigami says while giving death eyes to him.

“Keyword, ALMOST.” Chigiri says.

Kat giggles a bit, not expecting thin to be so sassy. He folds his arms and tosses his hair out of his face.

“Princess…” Kunigami threatens.

“My baaaddd.” He sings a half ass apology.

“All good, Chigiri.” You respond.

“Wellll, I’m gonna get going! I have some studying to do. Nice meeting you both.” Kat says while looking up at Chigiri.

He looks at her and says, “Are you going to the library because I was headed there.”

“Yea, you wanna join me?” Kat says with a smile on her face.

“Sure.” He answers softly.

And just like that, we set our friends up. Once we went our separate ways, you took Kunigami into the music building. Musicians were looking him up and down, confused why a jock was in here. Kunigami didn’t care one bit, he was too focused on you.

“Have you ever been inside the music building?” You ask.

“No, I haven’t.” He responds

“It’s really nice, I’ll have to give a tour sometime. When there’s less people. I’d hate to interrupt someone’s rehearsal.” You say as you hold your student ID up to the door to unlock it.

You walk into the practice room with Kunigami. It’s a tight space. Just enough room for an upright piano, piano bench, and a music stand.

“Damn, this room doesn’t have an extra chair but the piano bench is long. You’ll have to sit next to me while I play.” You say as you set your tote bag down.

“I wanna watch you first. Go on, serenade me.” He says leaning against the upright piano.

“What emotion do you want to feel?” You ask as you massage your hands.

“What?” He’s confused.

“What emotion do you want to feel?” You ask again.

Kunigami thinks for a moment as says, “A rush..of some sort?”

You nod your head and gently place your hands on the keys. At that moment, Kunigami started to feel something intense from you. Your energy completely changed.

“This is Libertango by Astor Piazolla.” You say.

You started off loud, playing arpeggios down the entire piano. This intrigued Kunigami, triggering goosebumps on his arm. The left hand held the rhythm while the right hand played chords, building up intensity. You looked up at him for a moment, and smiled. Fast staccato notes come from your right hand. Kunigami's eyes grew wide as he realized just how fast your hands were moving. This speed reminded him of Chigiri. Kunigami swore there wasn’t a key you didn’t touch. You stop… and come back with both hands playing on the higher end of the piano. Kunigami had never seen anyone play this impressively. You were making him feel emotions only a match would make him feel. Eventually, both hands travel down to the bass clef, playing deeper notes. He felt you struck the keys with the same amount of force one of his kicks took. You stop again, teasing Kunigami. You smile at him and start playing the same melody, but faster. He raised his brows out of shock. You had successfully convinced this man that you and him are cut from the same cloth. You ended the piece with a glissando and a crash of a chord.

“How was that?” you ask.

Kunigami started clapping and nodding his head. You stand up and curtsey, holding the hem of your pleated mini skirt in your fingers.

“Beautiful and talented. I haven’t heard anything like that before. I mean, I listen to music but that made me feel so…much.” He said.

You cover your face to hide the fact that he made you blush. He was so gentle when he spoke to you, it made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you. Now I have to come to one of your games so I can see your genius.” You say sitting back down in front of the piano.

Kunigami wastes no time and says, “It’s two weeks from today.” He slides his phone out his back pocket and sits down next to you on the piano bench. “Let me send you the details. Get your phone.”

You lean over, grabbing your phone out of your tote bag. You two trade contact information and he texts you the details for the game.

“You put a music note next to your name, how cute.” He says as he stares at his phone. He slides his phone in his back pocket and looks at you.

You two start talking to each other while you softly play scales to warm up. You find out he’s in school for sports management and that he has two sisters. That explains his soft side. He claims he knows ‘how the feminine mind works’ because of them. That statement alone made you belly laugh. He retracted his statement once he realized he’s talking to a psychology major.

“Okay, maybe I don’t know how EVERY feminine mind works.” He chuckles.

“You should have been a psychology major, Kunigami. You’re the next Sigmund Freud, thanks to your sisters.” You tease him.

“What can I say, I’m a versatile guy.” He says with a laugh.

You shake your head and continue playing your scales. Kunigami starts watching your hands, impressed with how agile you are even during warmups.

“You wanna learn how to play?” You ask.

He looked startled by your question. He rubs the back of his neck as he says, “I’ll try for you. Just to see what your world is like.”

You blush again, playing with the hem of your skirt. “It’s not too difficult, I swear. Hold up your hand.”

He does as you say while facing towards you.

“In piano, your fingers have numbers.” You take your pointer finger and trace the palm side of his thumb. “Thumb is always one.” His hands are huge…. You trace his pointer finger. “Number 2.” Rough but soft to the touch…. You trace his middle finger. “Number 3.” I wonder what his touch feels like…. You trace his ring finger. “Number 4.” His fingers would feel really nice inside… You trace his pinky. “And number 5.”

You thought you were safe from these intrusive thoughts. A piano lesson shouldn’t be sexual but here you are doing exactly that. You couldn’t help yourself. You’ve never attracted a jock let alone been attracted to one.

“A-and the other hand?” He says sheepishly.

“It's the same thing.” You say, turning towards the piano.

You press your legs together tightly, hoping that would alleviate the throbbing between them. You weren’t the only one turned on right now. The truth is, Kunigami was turned on the minute you started playing for him. He was struggling just as much as you were.

“Pretend like you're holding a baseball.” You say as you demonstrate. He copies you. “Now turn your hand upside down and place your finger tips on white keys.” He places his left hand randomly on the piano and you clap for him.

“This feels insane. What do I do now?” He says looking at you.

“Try playing 1,2,3,4,5.” You say.

He played all of his notes fortissimo, way too much force. He was in fact very heavy handed, which caused you to jump from the sudden burst of sound. He notices and stops.

“Too loud?” he says with a nervous smile.

“Alittle, be light on your fingertips. Kinda like how when you dribble a soccer ball, you’re agile, right?” You place your hand on top of his and press down to show him how much pressure.

Kunigami started to blush. You were touching him and talking about soccer, he was in heaven. He was trying to be respectable but the way you touched him like he was delicate, paired with the sweet scent that lingers around you… just being this close was all one big tease for Kunigami. It takes alot for him to lose his chill normally, but you were testing that theory.

“Yea, you have to be… Can I ask you a question?” He blurts out.

“Of course.” You say turning towards him.

“What did you call me when you first saw me today?” His voice dropped into a low hum.

“Hero.” The word slides off your tongue, practically music to Kunigami’s ears. “Because you saved me from the ball,” You felt yourself leaning towards him. “Which I never got to properly thank you for.” You plant your lips gently on his cheek, causing the both of you to blush.

You pulled your head back, your faces still inches apart. You can already hear Kat’s voice in your head, telling you to behave. You’re really trying to…but he’s so cute. The way he’s a blushing mess just because you're close to him. How can such a big guy be so adorable?

“You're welcome.” He says as his eyes dart to your lips.

Your lips were slowly gravitating towards each other until your phone alarm went off, ruining the moment completely. You silence the alarm. You had forgotten that you set it to remind you when you have 30 minutes left in the practice space.

“Time’s almost up?” He asks.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” You reply.

“I should let you practice. I’ve been quite the distraction.” He chuckles as he gets up.

“You could say that but I had fun…” you trail off.

You wanted to invite him out tonight. You and Kat were planning on going to an underground boiler room set. If she and Chigiri hung out at the library, you know she invited him.

“Kon’ya wa aitemasu ka? (Are you available tonight?)” you ask him.

He smiles as you speak in his language .

“Hai…” he responds.

“Dewa, kon’ya oai shimasho? (So I’ll see you tonight?)”

He scoffs and smirks at your comment. You want to see just how bad he wants to see you.

“I want to see you again so no need to be obscure about plans. Text me the details and I’ll be there. Now practice.” He says as he throws his backpack on his shoulder.

“Yes, sir!” You say saluting him.

He laughs and leaves the room. You’re smiling ear to ear, knowing that he likes you just as much as you like him.

Masterlist

Please do not steal or alter any of my work. ©️

[dreamyeuphoricll]

Old designs vs final designs. Pt 2

[platimoonie]

rin Itoshi — as the guy who is your arranged husband. (i'm losing my mind over this)

rin itoshi who doesn't know the first thing about marriage and was really against it at first, and argued a lot with his parents. but after seeing you for the first time, shyly carrying a tray of chai and samosas as you entered the living room when his family and him had come to visit, he started having second thoughts.

rin itoshi who stopped resisting his parents request after some time and at the very least didn't mind his marriage to you.

rin itoshi who after 3 months of marriage, was completed enraptured by you. the way your hair framed your face, the way you curled into him in your sleep, the way your eyes brightened when he entered the room. yeah this man was completely head over heels and this was only the beginning.

rin itoshi who is a silent lover. he doesn't say much. but shows his love differently. rin never returns empty handed to home whenever he goes out. he would always buy something or the other– a trinket, a singular rose flower or a gajra. his breath had gotten stuck in his throat when you asked him to help you put on the gajra for the first time.

rin itoshi who couldn't stop staring at the back of your neck and how his fingers would brush against your skin when he tied it around your hair. now everytime he buys it for you, he never let's you put it on. its his job now. shush.

rin itoshi who often goes shopping with you and he will buy you the first thing he sees and thinks you would like. he buys you bangles and earrings. when you try on the jhumkas and ask him if they suit you, he just nods and looks at you silently with such a love struck gaze filled with admiration and tenderness. he's unable to take his eyes off you and that's the only answer you need.

rin itoshi loves the smell of your dupatta. there's no reason behind this, he just loves it– the soft fabric and your scent.

rin itoshi who buys you silver anklets and puts them on you. he can't help but drink in your skin when adorned with such accessories. and when you wear a saree or a lehenga–? he can not, he will not take his eyes off you. you look like an absolute goddess and it makes him weak in the knees.

rin itoshi loves spoiling you. how could he not? how could he not spoil the love of his life, his soul mate, his everthing, his wife.

rin itoshi is so gentle with you. he feels heavily for you, you who taught him how to kiss, how to touch, and how to love. he considers himself to be the luckiest man alive to marry you. and he would marry you again in every lifetime in a heartbeat.

I LOVE RIN SO MUCH IM NOT AT ALL NORMAL ABOUT HIM LAWDD. HES SO POOKIE PLS. also I'm soo sorry I think this is kinda ooc cz he's a complex character and I probably mischaractirized him :"[

also does anyone else think he low-key gives off Fawad Khan vibes?

tags; @tsumu-senpai

tysm for reading ♡

[sw4ggore]

bachisagi mermaids! 🌊

[sid3buns]

I'ᴠᴇ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɪs sᴡᴇᴇᴛ I'ᴍ ɴᴏ sᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ, ʙᴜᴛ I'ᴍ ᴀ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴏғ ᴀ ɴɪɢʜᴛ

[nekoxin6519]

New account but im reposting older art post after post LOL

[wttcsms]

it always leads to you ; sae itoshi

sae itoshi has long since prepared himself for a lifetime of disappointment and crushed dreams ever since he stepped foot in spain and realized the world was bigger than just his hometown in japan. what he doesn't prepare for is being 27 and on the most uncomfortable plane ride to move back home. now, he has to adjust to living with his career-ending injury, licking his wounds, and having to face everything and everyone he's spent so hard trying to run away from. including you, the girl whose heart he broke, and the mother of his child that he's never met and never even knew existed.

pairing sae Itoshi x f!reader word count 2.4k+ content contains timeskip/ex-pro athlete!sae, strangers with a history, second chance (more like hundredth chance) romance, high school sweethearts to exes to toxic long distance situationship to awkward co-parents to lovers (relationship status: it's complicated), pregnancy, child plays a role in the fic, nsfw/eventual smut, character study into sae

✦ table of contents ✦

00. prologue 01. tba. . . 02. tba. . .

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌၊|• NOW PLAYING THE SOUNDTRACK. . .

01. renegade, big red machine ft. taylor swift 02. cardigan, taylor swift 03. slipfast, role model 04. two people, gracie abrams 05. exile, taylor swift 06. nobody gets me, sza 07. always, daniel caesar 08. the alcott, the nation ft. taylor swift 08. keep that to yourself, tristan 09. things i wish you said, sabrina carpenter 10. the last time, taylor swift 11. i love you, i'm sorry, gracie abrams 12. soft spot, keshi 13. compromise, role model