Playing Hard To Get [pt. 2]

“i wanna hold your hand” - excuses for your characters to hold hands

prompt list by @novelbear

"your hands are cold...let me warm them up for you."

taking advantage of the fact that they're walking through a crowded place and holding their hand so that they "don't get lost"

maybe they get slightly jealous while out, so they grab onto their partner's hand to establish their relationship

"something's on your finger. give me your hand, let me see.."

mentioning that they want to compare hand sizes

pinky promising over everything so that it's easier to naturally intertwine their fingers with the others'

"okay, but if i'm right then you have to hold my hand!" "that's not much of a punishment but alright babes, whatever you say."

"can you hold this for me?" "there's nothing in your hand." "exactly."

going in as if they're just innocently fiddling with the other's fingers, then trapping them about thirty seconds later

making the effort to find where their partner is and dragging them by the hand rather than just calling them over to where they wanted them in the first place.

"you need me to hold your hand so you can read the instructions?" "it helps me concentrate!"

grabbing onto the other's hand out of nervousness

slowly intertwining fingers while the other is driving

"they always hold hands and rub it in everyone's faces, i want us to look cute too!"

going on a rant about how much they love to hold hands, hoping that the other would take the hint and offer

"can you hold my hand?" "of course, my love."

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎 👀.

okay so i got like, three books delivered this week, and in anticipation i reread another book that i had, and lads, let me tell ye, it was like quicksand. so now i have a list, some from my head, many from my wonderful friends’ heads, of prompts that basically made us all very soft or very “pleasantly scandalized rich lady from the sixties who just found out a juicy bit of goss about the new neighbor”. i hope ye like them! (DO NOT ADD TO THE LIST. I WILL MAKE A PART TWO. AND THREE. AND FOUR. MANY MANY PARTS. EVENTUALLY. )

[ HAIR ]:          sender slowly reaches out to catch a loose strand of the receiver’s hair and tuck it gently and securely back behind their ear, letting their touch linger afterwards. (if the receiver has short hair, then the sender reaches out and gently runs their fingers through their hair to smooth it back.)

[ CLOSE ]:          while standing remarkably close to one another, the sender is unable to stop themselves from running their gaze across the receiver’s body, lingering for a moment on their lips, before returning to initiate prolonged, intense eye contact.

[ CHIN ]:          as they stand close to one another, the sender hooks a finger and tenderly lifts the receiver’s chin, tilting it up so that they can look at one another, and running a thumb across their skin lightly.

[ THUMB ]:          while cupping the receiver’s cheek in their hand, the sender slowly glides their thumb across their cheekbone in a tender, sweeping caress.

[ WOUND ]:          upon noticing a recent injury on the receiver’s person, the sender carefully moves closer, running a thumb (or hand) across the wound in a gentle, troubled manner.

[ INHALE ]:          while standing in very close quarters to the receiver, the sender shakily inhales with desire/anticipation as they realize how intimately close they are to one another.

[ DANCE ]:          when alone together (e.g. the bedroom, the kitchen, literally anywhere once they’re alone) the sender takes the receiver’s hand, and pulls them into a graceful yet intimate dance as a spontaneous act.

[ BARE ]:          as they get undressed, the sender gently places a soft, tender kiss against the receiver’s bare shoulder.

[ SCAR ]:          noticing a scar on the receiver’s skin, the sender tentatively stops them from covering it up, and rests a gentle, soft kiss over it.

[ FOREHEAD ]:          placing a hand on the back of the receiver’s neck, the sender guides them close and rests their foreheads together.

[ PALM ]:          taking the receiver’s hand, the sender brings it to their mouth, and places a tender kiss against the receiver’s palm.

[ LINGER ]:          taking the receiver’s hand, the sender lifts it to their lips, and gently kisses their knuckles, lingering for a moment before withdrawing.

[ BEHIND ]:         upon entering the same room as the receiver, the sender steps behind them, and winds their arms around the receiver’s waist, drawing them close against them.

[ WAIT ]:          realizing the receiver is about to leave the room, the sender hastily reaches out and catches their wrist, preventing them from continuing their departure.

[ ARM ]:          after holding their hand, the sender releases the receiver, but slowly glides their hand up the full length of their arm, lingering on the upper arm, then the shoulder, then resting their touch against the side of their neck.

[ HOLD ]:          while close to the receiver, the sender wordlessly takes a hold of their hand, for no other purpose than to be holding it.

[ PLAY ]:          while sitting together, the sender absently lifts the receiver’s hand, idly running their fingertips across the lines of their palms, mapping out every inch of their hand with slow, lazy touches.

[ GUIDE ]:          in the process of guiding the receiver through a crowded place, the sender’s hand protectively grazes against the small of their back

[ TOUCH ]:          while touching the receiver’s waist, the sender’s hand briefly dips beneath the hem of their shirt, skimming briefly across the bare skin of their waist.

[ CUP ]:           bringing both hands up to cup the receiver’s face, the sender draws them in closer to them in order to get a better look at their face.

[ TUG ]:          the sender tugs the receiver close against them by resting a hand against the small of their back, pulling them flush against their body.

[ HUSH ]:          while standing close to one another and hiding from pursuers, the sender reaches up and places a finger against the receiver’s lips to prevent them from speaking and revealing their location.

Warning: Death, blood, wounds/injuries, unhappy ending.

"I think I'm... I'm dying."

"No, you're not," Caretaker insisted, panting loudly as they frantically ripped their shirt off and pressed it against the gaping wound in Whumpee's side. "You're not dying. No. The- the paramedics will- they'll be here any minute now and they're gonna help you. They're gonna make sure you come home to me again. You're not- you're not leaving me."

Whumpee didn't have the energy to convince them otherwise. They could feel their eyes already beginning to get heavier, and their bloodied hands trembled violently as they reached up to cup Caretaker's face in it.

"You're not dying," Caretaker repeated, their voice cracking. "You're not... you're not dying. Not yet."

Whumpee found themselves with a small, saddened smile. "I love you. You were always so kind to me..."

Caretaker gritted their teeth. "I am always kind to you. Present tense. You're not going anywhere."

"You and I both know that's a lie."

Instead of responding, Caretaker buried their head against Whumpee's chest and began to cry; long, heart-shattering wails leaving the back of their throat as they listened to Whumpee's breathing declining right in front of them.

"You're not leaving me, you're not leaving me..." they whispered repeatedly, feeling Whumpee's fingers gently trailing through their hair.

They continued to repeat that line well after Whumpee was gone, refusing to let go of their lifeless body when the medics tried to convince them to. Trembling fingers desperately attempted to get Whumpee to card their fingers through their hair one last time.

They refused to accept that their Whumpee was gone.

dear, chapter one ♡

— series masterlist ♡ art

what have you done to me? cyno wonders, tearing his eyes away from your figure. it's tough, he thinks. it's tough looking at his worksheet when you're right there.

ah, wait—there he goes again, thinking of you in ways that friends shouldn't. you've always been right there, next to him, so how is it different now?

your arm brushes with his and cyno's heart nearly hurls from his throat.

wait, what?

blinking furiously, the boy begins to rub his temples out of spite. no way, he broods, no way. no way the brush of your arm got his heart soaring and no way—no way you...

nevermind.

"cyno," you say, and the boy nearly chokes on his own spit as his hands fly from his temples to the table, attention owed fully to you, because archons, you've always had it.

damn you, [name], is all cyno thinks.

"what?" in an attempt to mask his emotions, the boy's voice comes out harsher than anticipated, but oh, you can hear it in the silence: the soft edge to his words and the way his tone quiets a little as he speaks to you. look at him, look at him, dammit—look at him and see the way his vermilion eyes melt into pools of roses, dripping petals trickling with affection but archons, it can't be.

cyno doesn't have time to love, much less love you. you, who have been in his world but now own it. you, who have been his friend from elementary to high school, who have been his friend.

cyno doesn't love you; he never will.

"i need help." pouting, you point bluntly at the easiest math equation cyno has ever seen in his life, but still, he gives in.

he gives in because you're his friend, and not because the way your eyes droop a little makes his heart weep; not because he relishes in your attention and the way your eyes (oh, those lovely eyes) meet his fully because no one, no one, would dare to look at the cyno in the eyes.

no one but you.

"well," cyno pauses to examine your work, "some things just aren't adding up."

the boy resists a smirk once you glare at him, because archon, the way your lips curl into a feigned frown and your eyebrows narrow a little is simply so...

he shakes his head.

"you need to stop making jokes like that," you say, and his heart nearly stops. "i'm a fragile flower, you're treating me so rudely!"

he snorts, heart regaining its tempo from the false alarm because oh, oh, cyno would never dare to anger you—not when the possibility of the feigned pout on your face becoming real hurts him more than he'd like to admit.

"you're more like a weed," he comments dryly.

"i'm able to withstand even the harshest of conditions."

"and are a pain to remove." shrugging, cyno has to turn away from your prying gaze in order to calm the fervency of his heart because oh, there you go again, giving him that glare and all your attention—it's all his, dammit.

"here's my notebook, i have the examples written down," he says before handing you the papers. he can't take it anymore—he can't take the rage of his heart and the way it cries, it cries a pitiful tune, it cries your favorite tune and weeps whenever you don't notice.

you've hexed him, you've cast a spell on him and cyno—the top of the entire graduating class—has been reduced to a fool. but this isn't normal, he thinks, because we're friends. best friends, even.

do best friends click their tongue when your gaze leaves him? do best friends bite their inner cheek in envy as your attention now belongs to his notes instead of him?

cyno looks at you—the you whose attention belongs to something else, as per usual. cyno knows the direction of your gaze and knows when it's on him, he knows when you stare at someone or something else, he knows and knows, and archon, does it hurt.

oh, is it too presumptuous of him to wish for your attention solely to himself? is it too ambitious, to outlandish for him to hope that maybe, just maybe, he could be the subject of your gaze, too?

"[name]," he says. he says your name, he says it just to say it. he says your name as practice for the future because even if the world were ending tomorrow, it would be the first thing he'd think of. cyno says your name, albeit quietly, because he would never dare to soil its owner.

"what?" you respond, not looking up. cyno taps your elbow.

then, you glance up at him.

and then, his thumb swipes against his chest. archon, he thinks, it's crazy. his heart is threatening to spill from his mouth and decorate you in the adorations he's kept to himself—his ribs are threatening to implode because oh, he's yours, he's yours, dammit, so do what you want.

"nothing."

you roll your eyes, and cyno sheds a barely noticeable smile.

you've ruined him—you've broken him down and built a palace of you. cyno doesn't know when or how, but the way you return to his notes only makes him wonder: when will i capture their attention fully?

when will you realize the muse you've created? when will you realize that you've painted the "canvas of cyno" a myriad of your favorite colors, your favorite shows, your favorite things?

and then, his heart stops.

oh, archon. he flicks his forearm. what am i thinking?

you're his friend; nothing more.

→ next chapter, interlude: what you've done to me

tagging: @xdncrkay @valeriesteashop @rainygreyclouduwu @shrhnrqz @poggerschampion69 @sketcheeee @emmaemoseila @lynnforever @kuuremon @1eaf-me-alone @cryingpariah @monaypo1 @hamdehlesmis @suuichi875432

(bold means i cannot tag u!!)

Dialogue Prompts

Angst • Anger

Warnings: depictions of anger / hostile reactions / derogatory comments

✷

⇥ “How dare you?”

⇥ “What do you think you’re doing?”

⇥ “I hate you.”

⇥ “I never want to see you again.”

⇥ “Stay the fuck away from me.”

⇥ “I’m done trying to help you.”

⇥ “You ruin everything.”

⇥ “I can’t even look at you.”

⇥ “All you do is lie.”

⇥ “You only care about yourself.”

⇥ “If you touch me again, I will break your hand.”

⇥ “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

⇥ “That’s the problem.”

⇥ “You’re the problem.”

⇥ “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

⇥ “Excuse me?”

⇥ “What the fuck did you just say?”

⇥ “Get out.”

⇥ “I should have never trusted you.”

⇥ “You mean nothing to me.”

⇥ “This is your fault.”

⇥ “You did this to me.”

⇥ “Move out of my way, or I’ll make you.”

⇥ “You haven’t seen angry yet, but if you don’t get the fuck away from me, you will.”

⇥ “Sorry isn’t good enough.”

⇥ “Say it. Say it!”

⇥ “I wish I never met you.”

⇥ “I’m trying to do the right thing! Don’t you see that?”

⇥ “Was it worth it?”

⇥ “I hope it was worth it.”

⇥ “You will never be one of us.”

⇥ “I don’t care.”

⇥ “There is nothing you can do to fix this.”

⇥ “I will get you back for this.”

⇥ “How could you do this to me?”

⇥ “You’re pathetic.”

⇥ “I would never have hurt you like you hurt me.”

⇥ “After everything I’ve done for you!”

─── 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 7.1k | content: fluff, making out, college!au, mentions of insecurity, only very brief angst !!, alcohol, slight jealousy

notes: this was supposed to be lengthier and in smau format but i suck at that so here it is in fic format :’) i know i know, i write sae way too much </3

summary: you have a crush on sae. for a long time now. and he’s always known that. he just wants to see how long you can hold out.

HIGH SCHOOL: 2ND YEAR

itoshi sae knows you like him.

you’re really obvious it’s pathetic, really. once during recess, he’d wanted to go back to the classroom to get some shut eye because soccer was way too draining lately, and guess who he saw slipping a little love note into his locker?

of course you. you and your little pink heart-shaped post-it that read i think you’re cute and i really really like you. because it was valentines and you were one of the many to send him little scribbles of confessions.

even now, when you sit just a couple of rows in front of him, he catches you looking behind at him, and sae purposely doesn’t look at you, doesn’t let you know he knows you’re staring. he’s not really sure why. maybe he feels bad if he exposes you or something.

throughout the rest of your sophomore year in high school, he continues to observe as you so subtly (not really) try to be friends with him. you always try to get picked to be in the same group as him for projects (which never works out), you try to sit next to him in lecture halls (but his friends cockblock you always), and during phys ed classes you try so hard with soccer but you’re really quite bad at it.

maybe it’s sae not being able to continue observing your failures that he throws you a bone.

“you need to bend your knees a little more.”

frozen stiff from the unexpected company, you awkwardly try to bend your knees further, all while staring at the ground. if sae was nice, he’d laugh and joke around with you, asking why you seemed so scared of him. but he’s not, so he only sighs and stands beside you while you try.

after a few more seconds, sae understands you don’t really understand so he moves to push down on your thigh, and by then you really freeze up, falling flat on your ass in front of him.

sae wants to laugh now, really, because it’s amusing how nervous you are. for no good reason too.

the next time sae talks to you, it’s during lunch time when he queues up behind you. on purpose. he doesn’t even usually eat from this stall, but seeing you there makes him want to mess with you a little. he purposely stands a little too close, makes himself prone to an accidental bump.

which does happen. because you’re just like that.

“oh, sor—” you stop midway as if realising it’s sae immediately dissolves you of any obliged apologies. “sorry,” you force out before whipping your attention back in front. the both of you don’t talk in that moment and sae can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

but sae continues to help you during phys ed classes, and you still try to get assigned to be his group mate. nothing groundbreaking happens during sophomore year of high school because nothing is born out of it.

nothing, except maybe a tiny bit of sae’s inexplicable emotions for you.

HIGH SCHOOL: SENIOR YEAR

sae thinks maybe you went to a shrine over the holidays. how else would he explain you finally getting partnered with him on a project? and to top it off, it’s a two-person team for the entire year.

you get him all to yourself.

the moment the teacher calls your name after his, it’s like sae can practically see your tail wagging. you manage to compose yourself when you catch him staring at you though.

it’s a little cute, if he’s being honest.

“so, what do you think our project should be about?” your voice wavers a little when you speak to him. is he that intimidating?

sae wonders what if he tries to be a dick during this project. would you be obedient or would you actually bite back?

he tries to find out.

sae shrugs and acts disinterested, staring out the window of the second floor of the library where you’d both agreed to meet to work on it together. “don’t know, don’t care, think you could handle it for us? i’ve got too many soccer trainings, too tired.”

for a split second, you’re taken aback—he sees you sitting upright a little more, blinking twice at him because surely that’s not what you imagined your crush to behave like. not when he has straight As and is almost the top of your cohort.

and for a while, sae thinks you might actually be the former; obediently listening to him, making sure he’s happy. but then you furrow your brows and clench your fists and go “itoshi sae, who do you think you are” and oh, oh, you’re not the former, you’re the latter and you’d actually kill him if he was a dick. fuck.

somehow his hands instinctively come up in surrender and his mouth opens, “i was just kidding.”

it’s almost comical how your expression softens up immediately and you laugh, and sae keeps staring at you because you actually have a really nice smile. he never really noticed it before. and when the two of you actually get started on the project, sae finds himself observing you more than actually contributing.

yeah, you’re really quite pretty.

“any plans for the summer?”

it’s now almost july and summer break is around the corner, and to be honest sae’s kind of bummed about it. it’s beyond him why not seeing you would make him disappointed, but he’s not going to try and pursue the reason. he has his training camps to worry about.

“soccer. you?”

“mmm, a short trip with my parents.”

usually sae would leave it at that, but he asks about you, and he sees that tail wagging again. “where?”

“just gonna go to hokkaido,” you tell him. and you look like you’re anticipating him to ask more, but sae’s stuck. he doesn’t really know what to ask. he’s not exactly curious as to what you’d be doing there.

so you take matters into your own hand when you swiftly grab his phone from the table, key in your number and call yourself from his phone before putting it right back. sae watches you the whole time, wondering when exactly you’d gotten this bold.

“there, now you can’t escape me even over summer break.”

and he doesn’t. because you text him about your trip when you’re there, you send him pictures of the scenery and of the food you’re eating and you’re really inconsiderate because you send him that shit when he’s stuck in soccer bootcamp with twenty-four sweaty guys who’s none the better than him.

sae can end it by all means, just by not responding to you, but for the first time, talking to someone isn’t really a pain, and he thinks you’re kind of funny and the stickers you send are kind of cute so he’ll let this continue. even if by continue he means sending mediocre, lacklustre responses that just barely manages to keep the conversation going.

(in sae’s mind at eighteen, sending replies like okay and i see are considered acceptable and subjectively considered effort.)

when summer break finally ends and it’s early september, sae finally sees you again while he walks to school. he walks a little faster just to catch up to you before he adjusts his pace, acts like it’s coincidence that he’s right beside you.

and somehow he’s made it a routine; to memorise what bus you get off of and catch you on the way to school. even if he sees you in classes and even after classes in the library.

you’re acting a little less like he’s on a podium and more like normal friends and he kind of likes that. he likes being able to see you unfiltered when you gossip, likes seeing you laugh at stupid lame jokes, likes the way you hang close to him whenever you’re beside him.

okay maybe like is a little stretching it, he doesn’t mind being able to tolerate it. or maybe he’s just in denial, whatever.

winter comes and it’s somehow the time when more girls try to talk to him, mainly because somehow the school decides to hold a winter event this year; it’s going to be held near the edge of the city, where the biggest skating rink is.

by his guess, most girls are looking for a guy to have a skating date with.

in the library during your usual meetup for the school project, sae gets more than a couple visitors trying to get him for that same reason. you eye everyone that approaches the table, and sae can’t help but notice how he actually likes when you’re pouty. maybe it’s his twisted thinking that jealousy means you’re still into him.

“itoshi-kun, i was thinking whether you wanted to go to the winter event together?” another girl from your class, mizuno, asks him, and sae is tired of it, frankly. but he doesn’t show it. he only looks at you, and you look back at him because he doesn’t usually stare for this long.

then, he looks at mizuno and rejects her.

“sorry, can’t, i’m going with y/n.”

(you get home that day being completely flustered and completely happy.)

on the day of the event, sae keeps his word. he goes with you, sticks beside you the entire time. his friends snap pictures of the two of you and you always look so embarrassed. maybe you’re just not used to all of this attention. but that’s fine, it’s cute.

one thing he learns about you is that you can be real clumsy sometimes. like now, when you get so excited over your watermelon slushie that you somehow spill it all over your jacket and clothes.

sae ends up giving you his puffy winter jacket while he braves the cold with whatever he has left. that’s fine, he’s strong. besides, getting to watch you wear his jacket the entire time feels like a bonus somehow.

he thinks by now you should confess already, but you don’t. you’re happy to stay in this bubble with him right now, whichever phase the two of you are at. so is he. it feels kind of nice.

feels especially nice when you hang onto him for dear life in the skating rink even though neither of you are moving. sae’s aware that people are staring holes into both of you but it’s strange how much he doesn’t mind when it’s with you. that’s why he holds his hands out, lets you take them, makes himself pull you along. he finds himself wishing neither of you were wearing gloves so he could feel how soft your hands are.

by the end of the day, everyone takes it that the both of you are together, even though the both of you are too avoidant to talk about it.

“hey, sae? thanks for today,” you say later that night when everything is done and you’d had the giddiest experience with sae. he’s walking you home and he doesn’t even know why; it’s a mystery to him why he keeps himself close whenever he can.

“it’s fine, i was the one who told people i was going with you, so.”

when he gets you to your front porch, you don’t go in immediately, standing right there with your back facing him, and sae wonders what’s going through your head. if only he could see the expression on your face right now, maybe he’d know.

you let him; because you turn around, giving him a big smile before you take a step forward and press a chaste kiss on his cheek, immediately turning on your heel and running into your house.

neither of you say bye, both of you are just a little too stunned to speak. sae stands out there in the cold for a little while longer, his face and ears red—he’s not even sure whether it’s from the weather or from you—but even when he starts to leave, you’re still slumped at your front door, covering your face in embarrassment, knees too weak to stand up.

there’s only one more quarter left until you graduate and sae and you both act like nothing happened that day. you still gossip unfiltered and he still listens but acts like he doesn’t.

except now instead of sitting across from you, he opts to sit directly beside you. sometimes sits a little too close just so your arms will brush against each other. sae also lets you keep his puffy jacket because you said you liked it.

you wear it throughout winter.

when graduation comes around and it’s time for sae to choose his university, he can’t help but take a peek at your screen. a smile comes to his face when he sees your first choice is the same as his. you’re smart too, he doesn’t doubt you’ll get in.

“itoshi sae, you can smile?”

sae immediately turns it into a frown. “guess not.”

you take your words back. “hey, i’m just kidding! it’s just rare… that’s all.”

so you notice him a lot then?

sure, you might not have seen him smile a lot. but that’s fine. from what sae knows, you have the entirety of your university years to possibly catch it.

UNIVERSITY: FRESHMAN YEAR

of course you enter the same university as itoshi sae. it’s not on purpose, but you’re glad you both made it here anyway.

at least knowing one friendly face is better than none.

to be honest, you’re not really sure where you and sae stand. he’s never said anything about that kiss, but he also doesn’t stay away from you. can you take that as a positive thing?

if anything, he’s even closer.

somehow, his dorms and yours are practically next door. when you open your bathroom window, you can look right into his. it happened once, by accident, and you’d caught him, shirtless with just a white towel hanging around his neck, hair damp as he brushes his teeth, the droplets of water on his abs looking very inviting.

but then he caught you staring and you’ve shut your bathroom window ever since. thankfully, he never mentions it.

being in university and staying in campus meant that you were both hanging out much more informally. and you’d think that two people at the age of nineteen who’d known each other for three years would be less awkward than this but it’s you and sae and somehow there’s always an element of awkwardness.

it’s halfway into your freshman year and you’d just watched the first match that sae’s playing for the university team. you’re a little starstruck, honestly. to think that the guy you’ve always had a crush on is this good at soccer.

he’s amazing. you’re feeling like a potato sack.

“hey, you know him right?” hime gushes.

your friends are with you, so it’s natural they ask.

mira on your left sighs, “guess we have no shot with him since he’s with y/n all the time,” she says, nudging you in the elbow.

you’re starting to regret bringing them here with all the teasing. you’re also regretting coming here yourself because you see several girls running to him asking for a picture together. some of which you recognise, some of which are the popular girls.

sae doesn’t stop them from snapping what they can, but he also doesn’t stop for them at all. instead, he saunters over to you, hime and mira wordlessly disappearing to the side.

“gimme that,” sae says, gesturing to the phone in your hand. you obey, of course, and he smirks, then he snaps a selfie with you before tossing your phone back and walking off.

the pairs of eyes on you make you half-embarrassed yet half-proud. even with this many fangirls, sae chooses to come to you.

that night sae asks you to send him the picture.

yeah, maybe you can take that as a positive thing.

freshman year after that is generally uneventful. you and sae are both trying to find your footing, with him preoccupied mostly with soccer trainings while you’re drowning in assignments and projects that have nothing to do with him.

but you still see him in the mornings sometimes, when you walk past your common room and he’s in his, and you wave at him when he’s alone so you’re not so shy, and he nods in acknowledgement before he just walks away.

one night while you’re burning the midnight oil trying to cram some accounting knowledge into your brain, you get a text from sae.

wanna get supper?

both of you end up at one of the supper spots outside of school, a little cosy shop that sells boba and ramen even after midnight.

“why’d you wanna get supper?”

sae shrugs, taking a sip of his plain water. “just bored, couldn’t sleep.”

“isn’t this soccer season? you can’t even eat anything in here, it’s definitely not passable for your diet.”

he sighs, leaning back against his chair. “so? quit whining and start eating your shit already.”

if it was some other guy you’d be rolling your eyes and storming off. but it’s sae and you know him and he thinks he’s talking normally like this. besides, when you catch his eyes flicker up to lock with yours you get a little dizzy inside.

“what’re you up so late for anyway?”

sae’s fingers are drumming lightly against the surface of the metal table, teal eyes diligently observing as you bring the strands of noodle to your lips. “told you, i couldn’t sleep.”

you find that strange; he’s always been able to sleep, no problem. and he’s strict about his eight hour sleep schedule. what could be getting to the great itoshi sae?

(sae’s lying through his teeth; having his bedroom right across from yours means he can see when your lights aren’t out. sue him for being a little concerned.)

“so, heard you and the team are going on a soccer trip somewhere in europe,” you bring up. you’d heard it from your friends, strangely, instead of sae himself.

he nods. “yeah, just a select few,” he tells you, “only if we win the tournament though, then the team’ll officially invite us over.”

so-called team you heard about is real madrid, and you’d be crazy to think that sae couldn’t help your university team win on his own.

“guess i won’t be seeing you around when you go,” you mumble idly, not completely aware of what you’re basically saying.

sae is adept at reading in between the lines, but he doesn’t probe you on it. he’s not sure he wants to. he doesn’t know what this is. do you still like him? does he like you too? all these feelings are new; sae doesn’t know what to do with it.

so he keeps it to himself. for now.

he doesn’t really do a good job at following through with it though, because on the day of the tournament finals, he looks at you and winks right as he orchestrates that winning goal for his team, and you’re left wondering if you’re imagining things.

UNIVERSITY: SOPHOMORE YEAR

the final part of your freshman year went and gone, and it didn’t go exactly how you imagined it to be. you didn’t expect to hear from sae at all when he went on his trip after that tournament.

but you did.

he replied you whenever he had the time. told you anything you asked for. even called you when you had a mini meltdown because of finals.

to be frank, you don’t know what the both of you are anymore. you’re cursing yourself for being too scared to ask.

“hey y/n, have you seen hime anywhere?”

it’s oliver asking, captain of the university’s soccer team and also hime’s current situationship. he’d started hitting her up since that first time sae played and brought attention to you and the people around you.

“yeah, she’s by the pool with mira.”

oliver leaves as soon as you tell him, and you stand awkwardly at the corner of the living room, by the full panel of glass windows, wondering if you should just go home. you’d only came because hime and mira both said you needed to experience a party at least once this year but now you’re surrounded by people making out and drunkards slipping into the pool that it makes you regret giving this a shot at all.

especially since sae’s not going to be back till tomorrow, garnering as much interest as he did during his time in spain. you really have no reason to be here.

“hey there, pretty.”

startled, you find a familiar face up close in your personal space, his finger twirling your hair. you’d recognise that head of blonde and pink anywhere.

“oh, you’re ryusei shido right? you’re on the soccer team with sae,” you think out loud, and he nods, and you can see his blonde lashes so closely it’s making you flustered.

“mhm, fwhat’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a corner? seems like a shame,” he comments, though he doesn’t even give you a chance to answer. the next thing you know, shido drags you into a drinking game with hime and mira (which is why your first instinct wasn’t to run off, if you could trust anyone it’s your best friends). although, shido is getting annoyingly close and you can’t decide if you’re nervous or annoyed.

and the heavens surely love you when they let shido draw the card that corresponds to a dare, and they love testing your boundaries when some guy called otoya dares him to kiss you.

but no, you know that the heavens really do love you when someone yanks shido’s hair back and pulls him away from your face, taking his spot in between the both of you in the bid for proximity that you don’t mind because it’s itoshi sae.

“sae, what’re you doing here? i thought you wouldn’t be back till tomorrow,” you ask, a little shell-shocked but you still notice he’s discerning frown and how there’s barely any space between the two of you.

he looks at you, tilting his head, “what? my girl’s not happy to see me here?”

you don’t respond. half because you think you’re dreaming and fuck—really, did he just call you his girl?

“eh? i don’t recall you having a girlfriend?” shido leers, a hand on the spot of his head where sae had pulled on earlier.

“yeah, besides, shido still has to do the dare.” otoya sounds bored more than anything, but the guy beside him, karasu, if you remember correctly, is smirking.

sae sighs, and you feel like you must’ve crossed the boundary to another dimension when you feel sae’s lips on yours, and you think you’re in limbo when you feel his hand on your neck, pulling you close. his tongue pries your lips apart and people are whistling while shido’s behind him saying get a fucking room or i’ll beat off to this.

when the object of your affection finally pulls away, you’re met with the same pair of unbothered teal eyes, the pair that immediately turns to face otoya. “there, did it for him. now move on.”

you’re beginning to thank alcohol for its existence when almost everyone obeys wordlessly, moving on to some other guy’s turn. you really can’t remember who sits on shido’s right when all you can think of is that itoshi sae, your longtime high school crush, actually kissed you.

that’s enough to warrant the question, right? the question of what sae takes you for?

the inner debate sparks long into the night, even when sae walks you back to your apartment, the both of you side by side in silence.

“sae, what was that?”

he plays coy. “what was what?”

you’re only a little tipsy, so you can still tolerate his avoidance. “you confuse me a lot, you know that?”

sae doesn’t take the bait. “oh, i see.”

“you were jealous.” he was. he really was. you can tell; he was sour to shido the entire night. he stuck close to you too, sometimes your fingers brushed against each other’s.

“so what if i was?”

this one is new. sae’s actually admitting it. and usually you’d chicken out but you can see your apartment coming into view and you don’t want to let this go.

“what am i to you, sae?” you manage to choke it out a few feet away from the door, and sae stops in his tracks, hands in his pocket and teal eyes looking heavenward.

you’re beginning to regret your decision to ask; you’re not sure if his indecision is a good or bad thing. nothing seems to be simple when it comes to itoshi sae.

but he does nothing to appease your confusion when he steps in front of you, his body pressed flush against yours as he presses another kiss to your lips, and you think this one is special because it’s not done in the name of a dare or in front of anyone else. this kiss is for you and you alone and sae is doing this on purpose.

when he pulls back, you see him furrow his brows and you can tell that maybe he’s just as confused as you are.

“when i managed to get an earlier slot for my flight, all i could think about was how excited i was to see you.”

is this… a confession? you’re even more confused now that you don’t even know what to say.

to be honest, so is sae, which is why he swallows the lump in his throat and relegates to his apartment, “goodnight.”

things after that change just a little.

you’d decided to go with the flow, just because you really don’t want to sabotage whatever friendship you and sae had left, although most of the time, sae is the one toeing the line. even though he doesn’t outright tell you anything regarding his feelings.

but you think you figured him out.

sae asks you out whenever you’re both free, and not for shit like studying or errands, but for movies and dinner and he drives you around in his car and looks at you like you’re the only girl he sees. his eyes don’t wander when he’s with you, and he lets you wear even more of his jackets. it’s also evolved to his jerseys and his beloved windbreakers. you have one of each in your own closet and he never seems to ask for them back anymore. he also lets you wear his rings, puts them on your fingers randomly.

both of you still go for parties, especially when it’s one of the soccer guys who are throwing it, because they practically force sae to go and they know you’re the key to convincing him.

most of the time the two of you just laze on the couch, drinking and talking about nothing at all, and he idly plays with your fingers when he’s tipsy, something you never tell him because you like it, because you don’t want him to feel self-conscious and stop. he also smells your hair after he sends you home and hugs you before he retreats to his place, and you wonder if he’s fully sober when he does that.

you resign to getting your answer some other time, because you don’t want anything to ruin this, if this is just an illusion. yeah, you’d talking feelings some other time.

UNIVERSITY: JUNIOR YEAR

you really had no right to be, but you are. try as you might, you can’t stop yourself from feeling the way you do. especially not when she’s sitting so so close to him, when her hand brushes his fingers.

she’s just his project partner, nothing more, but something irks you about the way she can get so close to him so quickly when it took you much longer. but then you hear from shido that kaori is rin and sae’s childhood friend, so maybe that’s why they’re so damn close.

apparently, she’d gotten back to japan after ten years abroad. with great timing too, right when you thought you and sae could amount to something.

“you know, i could help you make him jealous if you wanna,” shido whispers in your ear one time when he catches you staring at them. “we’ll make him feel how you feel, m’kay?”

and while that’s tempting, you shake your head. it’s unreasonable for you to take it out on him that way, not when he hasn’t actually done anything that proves he’s just leading you on.

lately sae’s been so busy around kaori that you’re just thinking too much. you’re wondering if he’s slowly replacing you. he still talks to you over text, but you barely hang out like you did before. you still spot him through the windows, but he’s always too tired to notice you. even his texts are getting slower.

“hey, you okay?”

trust it to hime to notice your personal dilemma. you’re not really surprised though, because she’s been watching you moping for the last few weeks. she now has oliver wrapped fully around her finger, with him sticking around her all the time, which is a surprise considering his reputation.

but hime will take your side, you know this, and maybe that’s why you play it off. you don’t want her to hate sae because of a momentary feeling, so you tell her you’re just sick and you’ll go back home.

the moment you get back to your apartment, you see sae waiting out on the front, car ready while he leans against the hood, waiting.

and you might’ve asked if he was waiting for kaori, but then he looks up and sees you and smirks and that’s all you need to know that he’s not. he was waiting for you, and now he’s opening the passenger side door and telling you to “get in, stupid.”

that’s how sae is with you, impromptu and surprisingly sweet. he drives you to the pier, a cute spot right next to an amusement park where he’d gotten you some candy floss before the both of you just sits on the hood of his car, enjoying the scenery.

“why’d you suddenly bring me here?”

sae lies down, the sun hitting his face in all the right places. he’s gorgeous, you realise for what seems like the thousandth time since you’d known him.

“oliver told me you’d been a little mopey lately,” sae says, and you’re already embarrassed. “sorry if i’ve been busy lately.”

you mirror his position, lying down next to him, and it feels oddly nice like this. you’re not sure if it’s the situation or the person.

“it’s okay, i heard that kaori’s your old friend right? you guys must have a lot to catch up on.” it doesn’t stop you from feeling jealous, but it’ll pass. you hope.

sae chuckles before he turns to you, and you turn to face him too, “you’re jealous.” he smirks, and you’re reminded of the same thing you told him that first night he kissed you.

“shut up, sae.”

he laughs because you’re being pouty, and because maybe it feels a little nice to know you can feel it too. just then, he mirrors what you did way back in high school, reaching across you for your phone. except he doesn’t key in anything—he opens up your camera and takes a picture of the two of you like this, sae looking naturally handsome and better than you because you’re stunned he’s doing this, eyes wide and expression puzzled.

“what’s that for?”

sae’s still fiddling on your phone as you ask, and then he passes it back to you. he’d set it as your phone’s wallpaper.

“to remind you that you’re the one i like, idiot.”

and even though you and sae aren’t physically too close in the wallpaper, you think maybe it’s enough to tide your feelings through for now. he doesn’t ask you for anything else after that, just leaves his confession at that and sends you home before saying he has to finish up his project, aka going to find kaori.

it’s fine by you though, because now you know where sae’s head’s at, even though he never explicitly asked you anything. you’re sure he knows how you feel too, especially since you’d been the one to kiss him first that day a few years back.

but how apt for you to go to sleep early and be woken up by dozens of messages blowing up your phone, the majority of them attaching pictures at a certain party.

still pictures of sae locking lips with kaori, and you feel your heart sinking.

sae’s message comes through just as you’re scrolling through your phone.

meet me at my place? not what it looks like, i promise.

and maybe it’s because you feel like you know sae well enough that you’re not even panicking. you respond within seconds.

sure, see you!

you take the liberty of going next door, entering when one of the other guys who lives there clumsily walks in drunk. it’s easy enough to find sae’s room, you recognise it from across your own room too well. and maybe it’s a slight invasion of privacy but you can’t help but turn your attention to his desk.

his room is all neat with the occasional laundry thrown on the corner of the room, trophies and medals on the bookshelf by the table. but what catches your eye is the little pink heart-shaped post-it note that looks all too familiar.

your handwriting fills the piece of paper.

i think you’re cute and i really really like you

you could cringe right now from how cringe you were being back then. but then you realise, sae kept this? did he keep this knowing it was from you? you hear the door opening downstairs and jump back a little, accidentally pressing on his keyboard while trying to place your note back in its position, and the screensaver that greets you renders you speechless.

it’s the picture sae took of the both of you at the bleachers of his first match.

someone closes the laptop before you can think any more, and you’re greeted with sae right next to you, cheeks flushed—either from alcohol or embarrassment. you can’t really tell, but judging from the lack of alcohol stench, you’d like to bet it’s the latter.

“you have me as your wallpaper?”

sae clicks his tongue, annoyed he didn’t get there in time for you not to see that. “who else would i put there?”

you bite your tongue to stop yourself from instinctively saying kaori out of spite. guess you’re still a little groggy from being woken up in the middle of the night.

“about earlier,” sae begins, not really sure how to continue.

“you mean the pics going around of you and kaori kissing?” you’re not even mad, you’re sure there’s an explanation—that’s how much you feel you know itoshi sae. he’s not the type to bother with leading someone on; if anything, he’s probably the type to immediately cut things off if he wasn’t interested and so far, he’s always been thinking of you.

sae sighs, rubbing his temple before taking a seat on his bed. “that was fucking stupid,” he grumbles, eyes closed. “she was way too tipsy and getting all up in my face and before i knew it she just—” his eyes are open now, briefly looking at you before looking away, hiding behind the sides of his soft locks, “she kissed me. i was stunned for a little so…”

you snicker a little, because sae looks so different from how he usually looks—aloof, ignorant, arrogant. now he looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the side and you can’t help but notice the difference.

“sae… why are you telling me this?”

screw his indecisiveness, if it was in the first place. you want his answer now, up straight. and sae seems to know what you’re thinking because he chuckles, relieved because he can read your tone—you’re not angry, not upset, you trust him somehow and it’s only because despite what you think, you know him better than anyone else.

“fuck off, y/n, you already know,” and he says this affectionately because you can feel the tenderness in the way he says your name, in the way he invites you into his arms—the way he pulls you close and lets you sit facing him on his lap. “you gonna be my girlfriend now or what?”

your lips are so so close and you’re both holding back so so much. “mmm i don’t know, itoshi sae, what if i wanna see you beg me for it?”

“god, i hate you,” he says, without meaning it. it’s the first time you’re actually feeling how strong he is, because he lifts you up from the back of your thighs and throws you on his bed as he hovers over you, a little squeal leaving your lips at the unexpected gesture. “hm, kinda like that sound you make.”

he’s saying it so monotonously that you’re embarrassed. “shut up, sae, before i leave.”

“that’s cute, you think you’d actually leave me,” he teases, and you curse yourself for finding that slight condescending tone of his hot. “but hey, really, be my girlfriend.”

“you asking me that after kissing another girl?” you act shocked, acutely aware of how his fingers are all intertwining with yours, your hands on either side of your head, sae pinning you down. if anyone walked in now, they’d get the wrong idea of what you two are doing. for sure. but you try to act unbothered, you don’t want to boost his ego even more.

sae leans down to press his forehead against yours, and you’re hoping your heart doesn’t leap out of your chest because he’d definitely feel it. “shit timing, i know. but you’re the only one i want, so.”

he’s pretty shit at talking emotions, you realise. and then you realise that this only works because you’re equally good at reading his. despite his reluctance to talk emotions, he shows you how special you are, constantly.

many girls want him, but you’re the one he spends most of his time with. you’re the one with his actual clothes in your closet and his rings on your fingers. you’re the one sae kisses and willingly so, the only one who’s on his wallpaper reminding him of what he’ll have each time he comes home.

“i told kaori i liked you and no one else too,” sae continues explaining, though he really doesn’t need to. you listen anyway. “she got mad and stormed off but shit, i don’t care. only care about you.”

and he’s pretty forthcoming with his feelings when he wants to be and that’s enough for you. you squeeze his fingers lightly and smile at him.

you don’t have to hear any more to know.

“i love you too, itoshi sae.”

the way he marks you that night lets you in on everything you need to know.

UNIVERSITY: SENIOR YEAR

six years.

it’s been six years since you’d first had a crush on itoshi sae. and now you’re his girlfriend, always in the front row for every match and the object of most of his fangirls’ hatred. that’s okay though, none of that matters.

whenever you come back home to your (shared) apartment now, it’s like all your worries melt away into the void, and sae reminds you just how much you mean. even if his pet names are less than swoon-worthy at times.

“you really need to stop posting shit like this,” you deadpan, showing sae your phone screen. it’s a picture of you asleep in the morning, drooling on his bare shoulder.

sae blinks, acting coy like he always does. “what? it’s cute.”

“you’re insufferable, itoshi.”

sae ignores that, switching the subject. “hey, you have any goals for your twenties?”

you hum, pondering. “well, i guess if i could do what i want, i’d travel the world,” you pause, sitting up on the sofa and looking at him. “why?”

it’s the last year of university, and the both of you are finishing your degrees, with the possibility that sae might be getting a contract with one of the overseas clubs. you’re not really sure; there’s a few of them who’ve expressed interest, but you’d always let sae think through it on his own.

does his question have something to do with that?

“was thinking i wanted to take you along if you wanted to come with,” sae half explains, because he’s bad with details like that. he continues when he spots your confusion, “if you wanted to explore wherever i decided to go.”

oh, he means he wants to take you along to wherever he decided to go. you’re flattered, honestly.

“you mean, the itoshi sae wants to bring me wherever he goes, huh?” sae is already turning red, sensing your big head. “you offering to be my sugar daddy too?”

sae sighs. “you’re so stupid, i swear,” he complains, his words lacking any bite because he’s rubbing circles onto your arms. “you said you found some remote jobs right? thought we could make use of that and just go wherever together.”

after six years, you finally see sae trying to plan a future where the both of you are together. he loves soccer, but he loves you too, and you’re not the kind of person who’d make him choose, so you appreciate his compromises instead.

“itoshi sae, i’ll follow you wherever you go.”

he presses a hasty kiss on your lips, “good, ‘cause i plan on keeping you forever.”

you grin, pulling him down to you and kissing him even deeper, “i’ll hold you to your words, then.”

sae smiles against your lips. because he knows he got lucky with you, lucky you were there at the right moment, slipping your love letter into his locker. lucky you continued to like him, lucky you knew how to put him in his place whenever. lucky you’re you and you love him.

maybe he’s always liked you, even back in freshman year of high school when he realised how kind you are, how gentle you could be. you looked pretty in the sun that day, when he first saw you trying out soccer in the yard and falling flat on your ass. you didn’t notice him back then but he noticed you, not that you knew. sae didn’t try anything because he was sure it’d fail. but who knew all it took for his mind to change was a simple nudge from you?

he’s pretty sure that you’re his human manifestation of a forever.

“when the time comes, just say yes.”

the strongest

▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader

▸ 19k words (um. what)

▸ strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn romance, major angst, fluff, a lot of hurt/comfort

▸ warnings: gojo, spoilers for jjk ch. 65 onwards (gojo’s past arc) and set before jjk vol. 0, references to character death, blood, injury, violence, a bit of swearing, descriptions of trauma and grief, mention of a heart disease, mention of abandonment, mention of overdosage

▸ this fic was born out of my unending awe for the way yuuta’s story in vol. 0 was told because i unironically loved gojo’s line “love is the most twisted curse of all” when he theorized how rika was cursed. i started this fic in 2021 and continued to write for it, little by little, until i can finally say it’s finished. part of my soul rests in this for i love it more each time i reread it.

through a mission he initially perceived as a chore, gojo finds that protecting you was no simple task, especially when things like emotions, responsibility, and morality are thrown into the mix

gojo hates missions like this. it’s the kind where he has to practice patience, discipline, and a plethora of other textbook virtues he never got around to understanding. if he had a choice, he’d get a reassignment in a heartbeat—exorcising a hundred curses in a night seemed a whole lot better than this. after all, gojo works best with his one-track mind backed by his most simplistic philosophy: kill or be killed.

but in missions like this, gojo is constrained by a number of obligations. he has to tune into his surroundings, make sure no civilian is harmed, be mindful about damage to public facilities, blah blah blah. the stakes are higher when it involves other people, he’s told, but gojo couldn’t care less. everything a jujutsu sorcerer does is already for the sake of the world, so did he really have to be so mindful all the damn time?

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midnight endeavors. - wanderer x reader

genre : fluff

scenario : listening to wanderer's life history for the first time. ( reader is inspired from infp-ish personality bc i adore the idea of scara with a soft s/o)

the wanderer was used to a lot of things. in his painfully long existence, he’d seen things people would never dare dream of, walked through hell confidently with a bitter smirk plastered on his fair face. gritted his teeth through the painful betrayals from those most important to him only to realize it was never as he perceived the truth to be. and after everything, 

in the end- here he was. his indigo eyes looked a tad softer, clearer than you remembered as you finally finished listening to him explaining his past. you felt the amount of trust he had put in you, and wanted nothing more than to embrace him at this moment. yet, silent fear of disturbing him nagged at the back of your mind. to wait. wait for him to open himself more to you. wait until he is completely comfortable with your touch. 

otherwise, perhaps he’d break or scatter from your touch. especially with the forceful disinterested voice and masked blank expression he skillfully upheld in front of you. you could see through his facade, but decided to hold your tongue. one day. one day he’d be ready and you planned on waiting for that day no matter how long it takes. 

when he finished talking and finally glanced at you, however, you noticed his clear, calm violet eyes flash in an expression that resembled revelation.

he crossed his arms to mask his shock again, to keep his composure as he always did around everyone. 

“... why are you crying?” he tried, he swore he really tried not to sound judgmental and crude as he talks to everybody else. he remembers how your face fell subtly whenever he made a particularly harsh statement, how you’d try to explain his behavior to people who weren’t accustomed to him. the worst of it all, he sometimes didn’t know you were in a bad mood already and made it worse with his sharp tongue. no, wanderer never meant it towards you, ever. that’s why he was trying so hard, trying and learning this paradox of  “human emotion” he used to despise to the fullest.

you, on the other hand, only realized a stray tear had rolled down your cheek when he explicitly pointed it out. the mention of his young friend, the ashes and heart, the bittersweet tragedy of his tale as kabukimono, as kunikuzushi, as balladeer and now, as your wanderer. everything about him made you crave more, need more of him, want to love, and be loved in return. especially once you realized he was capable of love no matter how much he defied your suspicions. after all, there was no denying the warmth in his gaze sometimes, no lie in his featherlight touch when he sometimes absentmindedly caresses your cheek when he thinks you’re sleeping. he touches you so gently, like he didn’t believe his sight. like he wasn’t sure if you, or him in fact were real. maybe he had really fallen and faded away to nothing but ashes. maybe he never truly awoke again after his bitter defeat, falling from the sky-high seat of a god, only to be reduced to nothing but dust the moment he fell from that mechanical body. that’s why the true gods he used to hate so much have finally graced him with this hard-to-believe reality- a beautiful one, a meaning in life he found with you by his side. 

he was free now, he was determined in spending the rest of his time wandering the vast world to destinations that suit his liking. until he met yet another mortal he’d fallen hopelessly attached to. 

a joke, wasn’t it? wanderer was sure he had learnt from his past. even if it never meant that his mortal kins were unfaithful to him, he was still convinced that mortals just weren’t meant to exist alongside him. only this time, your loving gaze on him kept coaxing his true self out of his shell with no regards to his reluctance. no, in truth he didn’t want to grow this close to you. but he couldn’t deny you, the closer you came to the wanderer, the more he felt himself slipping away from the clutches of his old persona. he truly changed, thanks to you, a mere mortal- frail, emotional, soft spoken and sweet-toothed who cries at the tales of someone else. unbelievable. 

“i’m so sorry- i didn’t mean to, it was just-” you stumbled over your words, unsure how to explain how you felt about his past. the last thing you wanted was for him to get annoyed over your tears or somehow make him misunderstand that you’re making this about yourself. you really wanted to say how thankful you were to be trusted, how you would be there for when the nights seemed darker than usual, yet no coherent words left your mouth. amidst your panic and futile attempts at hiding your tear-stained face, you failed to notice his same violet eyes soften even more than before. so this was what it felt like to have someone by your side, to have someone… so endearing, crying over his pain as if it were your own. he did, in fact, have friends before, two of them even. but what he was feeling inside was nothing he’d ever imagined prior to your fated encounter.

the wanderer wasn’t sure if he could put a finger on his feelings for now. but he was sure he was gradually realizing why he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you when you aren’t paying attention to him- even if this meant he would end up proving that he was just as human as you were. why he was infinitely entertained by your reactions to his teasing, and sometimes bickering. how he wasn’t entirely angered when you won the pesky quarrel with a witty remark. how he’d “accidentally” brush his hand against yours just to see your eyes widen and avoid his gaze like nothing happened. your body language never lied, that’s one thing he found amusing about you. 

speaking of amusement, he was truly puzzled the first time he got to know you. how were you so mellow? so mellow to the point you seemed like you'd shatter at the touch of his cold porcelain hands.

he wasn’t entirely sure why he felt this protective of you, perhaps even from yourself.  

and now, maybe he finally realized why having a precious fragile human like you cry over his past life story like it was your own brought this warm cozy sensation in his chest. he stayed quiet, silently gazing at you with his chin resting on his hand. 

“...are you done yet?” he felt himself cringe at his usual rough tone, he found it incredibly difficult to not sound like this. fortunately, you seemed to be slowly calming down. but not fast enough to his liking. 

that’s it.

with a deep sigh, he grabbed your wrist and pulled your figure towards his own in one swift motion. for such a slender body, he truly had incredible strength, you had to give him that. 

“what-” your eyes shot open, your sniffling dying down in one quick second from shock.

“humans, especially crybaby ones like you tend to find comfort in physical contact, correct? then so be it. find comfort in me.” rely on me, need me like i need you- he wanted to say but lacked the courage to. he truly had no other way he could word his feelings, but you saw the genuine concern hidden behind his ethereal lavender eyes. he’d never do this with anyone else, not even if the sun arose in the west and set in the east. you were both aware. his grand violet eyes still shone in high honor and pride, yet you felt his hand shiver ever so lightly around you. 

is he nervous? you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. 

you stopped gawking at him, and allowed yourself to relax against his chest, burying your head in the space between his neck and shoulder. it was strange indeed- the amount of comfort you found in his embrace. his body wasn’t that warm, you imagined it might be cold to cuddle with him on winter nights. but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to spend eternity embraced by his hands. 

your dear wanderer. you snuggled closer in a protective manner, even going as far as to snake your arms around his thin waist. the wanderer’s brows furrowed slightly to your actions, a highly unnecessary and bothersome pink flush dusting his normally pale cheeks. damn you and your gentle touches, always making him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

speaking of warm and fuzzy, you were too. he absentmindedly tightened his arms around you, just to feel your body push against his closer. letting out a small sigh of relief, wanderer stared up at the night sky. to think that he would be the one ended up comforted by an embrace, instead of his original intentions. as much as he refused to admit out loud, he truly could get used to this, relaxing and feeling the serenity of the eternal midnight with you wrapped up in his hands. 

neither of you spoke a word. he hugged you to calm you down from your crying, and it looked like he succeeded from the absence of your sniffling and sobbing. yet still, neither of you spoke a word, too busy tangled up in one another’s bodies.

✎ when you love someone. ft. lyney x fem!reader content: heavy angst, death/murder, fontaine archon quest spoilers, detail to injury, ooc lyney while i’m practising. not proofread. w.c. tba.

there's a melancholic harmony that comes with dating that infamous, ash blond magician who's name is uttered from every fontainian's mouth across the country. 'he's miraculous!' they exclaim, eyes glittering like stars as they leave the opera epiclese, grins wide on their faces. he truly is, you think to yourself as you follow the crowds out on some evenings after witnessing your boyfriend's abilities for the nth time. yet you also know better than this. the lies intertwined between soft kisses shared in the moonlight and the forced smiles he'll throw in anyone's direction.

lyney knows better too when he fumbles for his house key, a gloved hand fishing into his pockets to pull out the cold metal. a prospect he never thought he'd grasp when he devoted himself to the orphanage beside his sister, starved and defensive. there's almost a pained smile on his face when he calls out to you that he's home. at this hour of the night, the court of fontaine is a quiet city, especially in this quarter. the night life clings to the hotels that bustle with activity, drinks and other numerous acts that people indulge themselves in to drown their pains out - but he knows that the house he'd made a home with you was never this quiet.

it's a strange thought to him that you'd ever go to bed without waiting up for him first - that was your favourite routine, curled up on the couch with a plate of fresh conch madeleines you'd baked earlier in the day. a crocheted blanket would be draped over your bare legs, one of lyney's own white dress shirts hanging flimsily from your frame with the buttons done up. he would grin at the imagery if only it wasn't for the slow, tense anxiety creeping up his spine, leaving a trail of hairs standing on edge at the silence you'd left him with.

"ma chérie?" he calls out again, that sweet nickname rolls from his tongue like it has a thousand times before since you started dating. it's familiar, it tastes warm and like your homemade cooking you'll bring to him before his shows - a comfort he'll cherish no matter how much his acts crumble him.

you knew months into speaking with lyney that he worked for the fatui behind that whimsical act of a magician. you remember that tight feeling that choked your lungs for breath, you remember the vivid way the corners of your vision darkened and his words echoed in your head. he looked so pitiful, his brows knit together and a beautiful glitter to his lilac eyes when he's on the brink of tears from your lack of response.

growing up, you recall the stories your parents and elders had spat in distaste regarding the fatui - snezhnayan scum, good-for-nothings, troublemakers that cause nought but harm wherever they go. you truly believed that lyney was none of these, how could he be? he'd swooned you so lovingly after one of his shows on a starry night, having caught your eyes in his audience. he claims it was love at first sight, the cheesy phrase making you giggle whenever he'd reference it. he'd whispered sweet nothings in your ear the first night you'd shared a bed together, fingers dusting down your body in feather light touches like he considered you porcelain.

surely these were things that proved his innocence? that proved the truth in his words when he first mumbled 'i love you' against your soft lips midway through a kiss? you gave him his chance and lyney was determined to not let his affairs as a fatui member ruin what he had with you. things were perfect for the upcoming year, even if that smile he flashed to anyone who looked in his direction was so fake that you could almost grimace.

it is not lyney that anyone should have doubted the faithfulness of - the safety that his arms brought you. it is the fatui, the harbingers, the organisation that tears lives apart for their personal gains. it's the promises to protect their members' families and loved ones that fall on deaf ears yet feed their members' minds with relief and keeps that every faltering loyalty in check. they have them wrapped around gloved fingers that are ready to snap at any moment.

lyney kicks off his boots by the front door, twirling his hat as he hangs it next to your coat. in his younger years, he'd debated what the meaning of love was. he'd thought over the concept of a home - of four walls that were safe and permanent. every time something took a wrong turn in his life, he considered if he was capable of being loved, perhaps if he was even capable of loving too. if there was one thing he was certain from his time with you, it was that you'd proved him wrong.

his legs carry him tiredly up the staircase, his footsteps light as he steps over a particular floorboard he has memorised that creaks - just in case you'd truly gone to sleep without him tonight. the silence is deafening, he can't even hear the faint sounds of your breathing from your shared bedroom where the door is cracked open and the moonlight floods out like a liquid river. he glimpses red through the crack and his brow furrows in concern, picking up the pace of his steps.

the world you'd built with lyney crashes down the moment his hand - free of its glove - pushes the bedroom door further open and his eyes fall onto your body. you're limp on the floor, laid on the soft, fur rug you'd begged lyney to buy when you were furnishing your first home together. he still vividly remembers the beam you gave him when he caved and agreed. there's a pool of blood around you, drenching that cream fur and seeping into the floorboards beneath you. it's oxidising, darkening - how long had you been here like this?

lyney falls to his knees beside you, your blood soaking through his stockings and wetting his skin but he shrugs the uncomfortable feeling away when his hands push you onto your back, your head rolling to the side limply. your eyes are white, rolled back but there's a look of fear written across your face and lyney's eyes begin to sting with the idea that you'd been scared in your final moments; no, he refuses to accept that you're dead. you're simply injured, passed out - he'll get you to a doctor and he'll never let you out of his sight again.

but the waterfall of red that decorates your neck and stains his white shirt he knew you'd be wearing tell him otherwise. his hands clasp at your cheeks, cupping the cold skin as his thumbs desperately rub at you in hopes that you'll come to, smiling and reassuring him. he blinks the tears in his eyes away but all they do is fall down his pale cheeks in precious streams of emotion when he doesn't wake up. he doesn't open his eyes again to see sunlight streaming through the light fabric of your bedroom curtains. he doesn't hear his favourite laugh in the whole of teyvat when you notice he's woke up. the silent atmosphere is still very much present, tense and ready to be sliced with a knife.

the only sounds are lyney's jagged breaths, desperate as he starts to hyperventilate to get air into his lungs. he presses his ear to your chest, not caring if his blond locks fall into your blood as he frantically searches for your pulse, a sign of life. there is not even a shallow breath that falls from your chapped lips.

you had taught lyney many things in the time you'd devoted at his side, things that the fatui could never teach him. you taught him how it feels when you love someone but as he releases a pained cry into the night, you'd also taught him the anguish that comes from the decision of trusting the fatui the way he had before.

© https-heizou 2023.

kiss me with your eyes closed - kiss prompts

prompt list by @novelbear

pulling away and their faces are all flushed and they hear nothing but the sound of eachother trying to catch their own breaths

grabbing them by their waist and tugging them closer to deepen the kiss

^ maybe it catches the other off guard and they let out a little noise of surprise (much to the amusement of their partner)

cupping their cheeks and giving them a peck on the nose or lips

smiling into the kiss (it's gonna do it for me every time)

or if they smirk a little whilst doing it oh my god

they're lying on the bed, one on top of the other just planting kisses alllllll over their face. all over.

just going at it and suddenly they're being picked up and placed on the counter (or whatever surface is near)

laughing out loud when one of them makes any noises accidentally

one is shorter and they just plant a soft kiss (or kisses) along the taller's jawline

gentle. forehead. kisses.

a first kiss: one just goes for it so fast that the other doesn't realize what's happening at first. then they're like "oh shit"

^ but they slowly melt into it, let their eyes close, and kiss back

back hugging and the one in front just turns around to press their lips against the other's

those kisses that start off short and sweet, but things just naturally escalate

whispering words of admiration and love between a kiss

one is on the other's lap, holding their face between their hands, kissing them and instantly forgetting everything else in the room with them

those kisses that are just passionate from the start, they wrap their arms around their partner's neck or waist, being dipped back slightly.

after a heated session, they admire their flushed partner and softly place a peck on the cheek.

when they're holding hands and one just brings them up to their lips and places a kiss on their fingers.