Write Rivals With Chemistry So Hot It Hurts
╰ Rivalry isn’t hate — it’s obsession True rivals aren't just like, “ugh, I dislike you.” They’re watching each other. Studying. Matching moves. Thinking about each other when they shouldn’t. Hating how much they notice the other person. Rivalry is two sides of the same coin: hatred’s messy little sibling is fascination.
╰ Let them know exactly where to hit—and hesitate The best rivals know exactly where to stick the knife. Childhood wounds. Secret fears. Insecurities no one else sees. But the most powerful moment isn't when they stab, it's when they hesitate. When they flinch. When the reader sees the care underneath the kill shot.
╰ Make every win personal Every victory between rivals should feel like flirting with a knife’s edge. They don't just beat each other; they get under each other's skin. "I outsmarted you" translates directly to "I'm the only one who really sees you." (And no, they're not ready to talk about why that makes them insane.)
╰ Layer the attraction under everything You don't have to write "he found her hot" every five seconds. (Please don't.) Just lace it into the friction. The way they notice each other’s hands. The way a sarcastic smile feels like a slap and a kiss at the same time. Let it be unspoken, which somehow makes it ten times louder.
╰ Give them one private, honest moment and then destroy them for it That one late-night conversation. That brush of honesty. That accidental partnership in a bar fight. That glimpse of trust that leaves them both raw and feral because now it’s personal. Now it hurts. And guess what? Neither of them is stable enough to handle it like adults.
╰ Let them wound each other in ways no one else can Rivals with chemistry are like: “I know your softest place. I know where you hurt. And maybe I’m the only one who could ever touch it.” Terrifying. Intimate. Sexy. Self-destructive. Delicious.
╰ Don’t make it easy to flip to love If they hook up too soon, it’s cheap. If they confess too soon, it’s fake. They have to fight it. They have to screw it up. They have to almost kiss and almost kill each other in the same breath. The reward is sweeter because it’s hard won.
╰ Make them jealous, but make it messy Not cutesy "oh no I'm jealous" moments. Ugly jealousy. Pride-shredding, shame-inducing jealousy. Watching their rival smile at someone else and feeling like they're drowning in acid and denial. Bonus points if they pretend they’re above it and then spiral anyway.
╰ Tension isn’t just in the fighting, it’s in the silences It’s the stare across the room that says “I hate you and I want you” with zero words. It’s the hand that lingers a second too long after pulling them out of danger. It's the unsent text. It's the "accidental" meeting. Sometimes not speaking burns hotter than the screaming matches.
╰ Remember, they don’t want to ruin each other, they want to matter At the core of a rival/chemistry dynamic is one truth: “I want to matter to you more than anyone else does.” And they’ll deny it. And fight it. And wreck themselves over it. (And we, as the readers, will eat it with a goddamn spoon.)
makes you think what kind of life soobin has been living
this is stupid.
kuroo knows that better than anyone—knows that this is entirely unreasonable and entirely spur of the moment and entirely something he should not do—but you’re standing in the kitchen, covered in flour, and the words seem to fall from his lips as if they were always meant to be there.
“marry me,” he says, and he means it just as he did when he asked you yesterday as he kissed you goodbye, and just as he did the day before when you tripped down the stairs, and just as he would tomorrow if you said no.
but this time, as laughter spills from your lips, messy dough coating your cheeks, something stirs in him. something that he wouldn’t find yesterday and won’t find tomorrow and something that feels like hope, and delirium and you—and he thinks, if only for a second, that stupid isn’t even the word for it.
“you’re asking right now?” you raise a brow, motioning your fingers around your mess of a kitchen, and a silly little smile draws across his cheeks.
“i am.”
“i’m covered in flour,” you say.
and he grins, “yeah, and you should marry me.”
you shake your head, pulling your lips together, and you give him that look you always do; the ’maybe when we’re older and smarter and a little less prone to divorce’ look that he’s grown to dread.
because, yes, this is stupid—incredibly so—but he’s twenty-one and he’s pretty sure he’s never going to get much smarter than this and you share a bed every night without killing each other, so, really, why not?
he holds his hand in the air, waiting to insist on asking you again tomorrow, but you laugh—soft and bright and something that aches like home—and a little okay rolls off your lips.
“what?” his fingers stutter in front of him, voice tugging at the back of his throat, and you laugh.
“i said okay.”
“you’re kidding,” he says, a little too dumbfounded for his own good.
“now why would i do that?” you reply, a little tease catching your breath.
(oh, you must be trying to kill him now.)
“because i asked you to marry me.”
“you did.”
“and you said yes.” a breath spills from your throat—happy little laughter swirling between you.
“i did.”
and he doesn’t know whether to scream, or cry, or maybe throw up, but he does know that you just agreed to marry him, so all three sound like a solid approach.
“i’m in love with you,” he says, hands reaching for floured cheeks.
“well i would hope so.”
and he rolls his eyes, pulling you in—lips meeting yours with a clash of flour and warmth and a breath of anything but regret—and he’s sure that he’d be stupid every day of his life if it meant being with you.
It was strange, how something so beautiful and fun could be so deadly. Laying there on your back, you watched in silent wonder as the beautiful little white flakes fell from the sky, continuing to refresh the stunning white coat that blanketed the world around you.
The flakes had long since stopped melting the second they touched your skin, and no longer did your body ache painfully from the cold. Instead you were filled with a strange numbness that was slowly creeping up into your mind as well as your body.
You knew it was a bad thing, you knew what it meant. But still, you couldn’t help but hope that you would pass peacefully… that the pain was finally over.
You couldn’t quite remember what had brought you out here anymore, your brain too fogged to remember anything other than the sting of betrayal and the hollow aching loneliness that had followed. You had searched for hours, trying to find a way back, but that had turned into nothing but a blur of pain and confusion too.
You didn’t even remember laying down…. or perhaps you had fallen.
The faint crunching of snow made you force your eyes back open weakly, your mind sluggishly trying to remember when it was that you had closed them in the first place. Much to your surprise, someone was kneeling beside you, their voice sounding muffled and distorted in your mind, as they tried to speak to you.
You tried to respond to them, you really did, but your mouth had long since grown numb too, only your eyes capable of sluggishly blinking up at the stranger, trying to get their features to come into focus properly.
You had the strangest feeling that they weren’t human.
taeyong is so fond of the dreamies ♡
banda x gn!reader
genre: friends to enemies to ?
warnings: mentions of death, killing, blood, manipulation, alcohol usage, aib stuff, barely proofread sorry lol
synopsis: Being at the Borderlands wasn’t enough, you just had to meet the person you’d told you would kill if you saw him again. Seems like the way you saw things changed during that time.
author’s note: yeah. so i’ve been writing this for days and i’m still not satisfied w it much but i wanted to post it so there you go. i might edit it but! yea!!
Three years prior to the Borderlands.
“Seriously.” you scoffed, bandaging the arm of the boy sitting in front of you. “How many times do you plan to do this, exactly?”
‘This’, referred to Banda, your close friend and unofficial roommate, coming to your apartment unannounced with injuries and blood all over him. Every time, he’d greet you with a sheepish, barely-apologetic smile and get you to let him in with an innocent tilt of his head. You’d have him sit at the counter of your bathroom so you could clean up his wounds.
It’s not that you blindly trusted him. You just couldn’t care less what he did to get injured. What bothered you, however, was—
“I don’t know. Depends on whether or not you’ll continue to take care of me when it happens.” he said, taking advantage of the short distance between the two of you to try and catch your gaze.
— Him. In general. He was a problem in itself. You were used to him, sure, but that didn’t make him flirting with you every other day any more bearable. Especially since you liked him. It was obvious to everyone including the two of you that you had always been friends who were maybe-more-than-that. But nothing ever happened, really. That was just the dynamic of your relationship.
“I’m not your personal nurse.”
“Aw.”
You indulged him and met his eyes, albeit yours were filled with a mix of annoyance and tiredness— A cocktail he seemed to like considering the smile that pulled at his lips.
“You’re so annoying. God.” you whispered, not noticing where your eyes fixated.
“And you’re staring at my lips.” he replied, teasing, “What? Want a taste?” he asked and suddenly got so close to your face you almost stumbled back. Except you didn’t. You looked at him with wide eyes and his smile widened.
Then you calmed down, scoffed, and pushed him back.
“Stop looking at me like that.” you spoke, tone low but not entirely threatening. You clicked your tongue when he only raised his eyebrows, like he didn’t get what you meant. “And stop acting innocent.”
“What about me makes you think I’m not?”
You grabbed a cotton ball of disinfectant and roughly pressed it into a cut on his cheekbone. All that did was make him wince a little and close his eye. You sighed and tossed the cotton ball away. “I don’t know. Everything?”
“Come on.” he exhaled as you grabbed a band-aid at the side. The TV in your living room was quiet, but loud enough to be heard in the beat of silence that passed.
“ — A man from Tokyo College was found dead in a residential area near the university. He died from blunt force trauma after seemingly getting into a fight. Reports say he was at a bar with friends before this. The police suspect a drunken fight with a classmate that turned sour.”
Your movements slowed to a stop.
Banda was getting drinks with some upperclassmen he didn’t like tonight. You knew it because you’d asked him why he even bothered going a few days prior. You knew it because he’d told you he wouldn’t be able to make it to your study session because of it. You’re not sure why all your senses pointed an accusatory finger towards the person you considered your best friend at this moment but you couldn’t help it.
“Sunato.”
“What is it?” he asked.
You didn’t feel your gaze move up to meet his. When you did, he was already smiling at you. You wondered if he had made it a point to intentionally stop speaking at that moment.
“Hm?” he tilted his head.
“Sunato.” you repeated, the name sounding a sour shade of uncertainty on your tongue. “What happened tonight?”
He wasn’t smiling anymore. He didn’t seem annoyed, but you couldn’t read him. The silence that followed your words was suffocating— Unbearably so. Each second of quiet staring was making your ears ring. It was deafening. You wondered if there was any sound at all. Even the TV felt like white noise at this point.
Banda stepped down from the counter.
One step forward.
One step back.
Your bathroom wasn’t the definition of big. But when your back hit the wall, Banda didn’t move more. There was a safe distance between the two of you that he didn’t seem to feel like crossing. Nevertheless in this moment, his mere presence felt overwhelming.
“Things.” he finally answered, quietly. “I pretended to drink a few shots with those third-years. Didn’t try to pretend to like them. They got annoyed and we fought.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “And?”
He took a step forward and came so close you felt all your sensed melt away for a moment. A short moment that felt as long as ever.
Then he grabbed the band-aid from between your tightening fingers and looked up at you. He smiled casually, moving back with a shrug of his shoulders. “And nothing.”
You felt like a weight was lifted from your chest, but the tension in the air didn’t dissipate entirely. Banda peeled off the plastic bits of the band-aid, before staring at himself in the mirror above your sink to carefully place it on his wound.
Then he glanced at you in the reflection. “What? Why are you stuck to the wall like this? You scared?”
You pushed yourself up instantly. “No. Why would I be?” you spoke quietly, turning away to walk outside the bathroom.
“Because you think I killed that man.”
A chill ran down your spine.
“I didn’t.” he said casually, lifting your worries a little, before plunging another knife into your chest, “Mean to, I mean.”
“Sunato.” you scoffed, turning around, only to realize he’d gotten impossibly close to you. Your voice weakened, much to tour dismay, “Stop joking around.”
“Should I?” he mused, tilting his head and searching your eyes. “I’m not joking, though.”
You shoved his shoulder and he only smiled. This didn’t feel like seeing someone you didn’t know. It just felt like he revealed a part of himself he hadn’t tried to hide, but hadn’t spoken about. Like something both painfully obvious and incredibly easy to miss. Banda was serious— He would have killed one of those people if he felt like it. And from the amount of times he’d showed up bruised and bloody at your door, a part of you that made your stomach twist told you he might’ve killed someone already.
“Leave. I won’t tell anyone.” you said, “ But if I ever see you again, I’ll kill you myself.” you spoke before you could think about it.
He didn’t argue, seemingly pleased with your response.
“If you try to kill me, be certain I’ll do the same.”
Present day.
Jack of Hearts.
You sighed audibly as you let the choker click around your neck. Getting used to playing games so much it was a routine was almost worrying. Alas.
You walked up the stairs to the guards’ room and took a long look at every person present. They all seemed to either be grouped up, having come over there with someone, or alone. You walked over to a spot with less people, and leaned against the wall of the corridor. On the other side of it, someone was staring at you.
You turned to meet their gaze. Then your eyebrows furrowed. “… The tag game?”
The boy in a white jacket chuckled. “Nice to see you again.”
You laughed a little as you turned back around. It wasn’t often you met people from previous games again. In this case, it was almost comforting. He didn’t seem all that bad.
Footsteps echoed from the stairs and your attention moved there. You stared at the staircase— People around you didn’t seem really attentive, not really caring about the last player for this game joining in. You had taken the second to last choker. So it could only be that. You figured making sure you saw every player could be useful.
Your eyes widened once you caught sight of the new person’s face. Your gazes met for a split second and you could swear you both scoffed— Although he seemed more like he was laughing.
The first round went by swiftly.
As expected, no one tried killing anyone. It was too early— Too risky. You stepped out of the cell with a deep sigh. You’d joined Urumi’s group so she wouldn’t try and turn the group of annoyingly naive followers she had against you at some point, but no part of you was pleased either. Everything about that girl screamed manipulator.
You started to wonder how many manipulative people were present in this game. Almost unfortunately, more naive ones seemed to be there— Which meant bigger groups to deal with if their leader was against you.
While the first one round went by calmly, you didn’t expect the rest to follow that rhythm. And just as expected, while everyone fell in mostly quiet conversation, the brute from the beginning of the game brought the person he’d decided to pick on to the main room with undeserved punches and kicks. You heaved a sigh at the sight.
The next few rounds were the real start of the game.
When someone told the poor guy to lie to the man who’d been beating him to know the suit on his collar, you weren’t against it. If that man was to die, it would be even better for his victim to kill him. Your only problem with this, really, was Banda Sunato staring right at you as his lips worded out the synonym of ‘kill him’ to the man. You’d chuckled dryly and he only gave you this unreadable look that made you want nothing more than wrap your hands around his neck.
Round four came around.
You were getting tired. You sighed deeply, chest heaving. You tried to focus, really. But it would’ve all been easier if you hadn’t been in the same game as him. Your hands touched the bottles of flavored drinks on the shelf in front of you. “They would taste awful warm. Couldn’t they refrigerate them?” you mumbled, complaining to yourself.
Footsteps slowed down next to you. Irritatingly familiar.
Fingers brushed against the nape of your neck briefly, sending a chill down your spine. “Your suit is Spade.” Banda’s voice whispered close to your ear, “You should be careful of who you trust.”
“Like I should trust you.” you spoke quietly, kind enough not to announce to everyone here that he was just as suspicious as they probably though. You turned to look at him and he smiled.
“Am I not trustworthy to you?” he breathed out a laugh, “That’s five years of friendship you’re ignoring.”
“Fuck off.”
“You’re sweet.” he hummed, leaving you alone nevertheless.
Years. Years without seeing him once. And this is the first conversation you have. It’s almost fitting.
You went and sat at the table the boy whose name you learned was Chishiya Shuntaro was sitting at, along with Ippei Oka. They seemed to be the most two trustworthy of the bunch.
Chishiya was frank. Blunt to a fault. This was assurance that he wouldn’t lie to you. Following the way he seemed to think from the few times you’d talk and overheard him, it didn’t line up with him to lie just to kill. Except if he was the Jack of Hearts and took his time gaining your trust.
Ippei was honest. Overly kind and unable to harm anyone. Your doubts of it being a facade faded once the girl manipulating an entire group of people— Urumi, told them to kill someone. You’d made it a point to stare at his eyes when she finally showed her true colors. There was no faking the terror in his features. Except if he was a really good actor.
You hated to admit but only one person in this entire prison had your entire trust. Ironically enough, it was also the person you told yourself you trusted the least.
You made eye contact with him across the cafeteria and he raised his eyebrows like he was asking you ‘What?’ then a smile, ‘Missed me?’.
You looked away.
Urumi was getting her group to kill someone again. A murderer or another, really. This was a prison, after all.
Round ten.
The cafeteria was probably the nicest place to be when it wasn’t suffocatingly crowded. Which it was, at the moment, despite the amount of players that had been killed already. You grabbed a box of chocolate Pocky and walked out of the cafeteria swiftly. There really was nothing good that came out of staying with people. Especially in these games.
Walking up the stairs, you tore off the packaging before grabbing a stick and holding it between your teeth.
Then someone grabbed you. They pulled you into a corner you hadn’t been paying attention to, and in a second, Banda was leaning against the wall and you were hovering over him. He leaned forward and took a bite out of the Pocky that was still in your mouth and smiled. “Thanks.”
“Really?” you scoffed, finishing the rest as you pushed yourself up, “What’s wrong with you? What do you want?”
“Your cooperation.” he said. You felt your defenses fall the moment he spoke. To be honest every time you two would exchange a few words, the same thing happened. You weakened in front of him. It was like letting him watch you crumble down into his hands without him even having to try— You hated it.
Even after all this time there was a part of you that was too attached to him. Too much to simply move on after the way you ended things. Before everything he was your best friend. He used to be. And that’s why the genuineness in his voice felt this important. Banda Sunato was a liar when he wanted to. He lied as easy as he breathed but preferred to dance around the truth. However this time, he really wanted your help.
You couldn’t see why.
“You have that guy following you around. He looks like he’d trust you even if you held a gun to his head, why are you asking me for anything?” you asked and the usual bite left your tone, unconsciously.
Banda did that thing— Searching for an answer to questions untold in your eyes. He stared and stared and all you could do was freeze in place. Then he would look right at you. Properly.
“You’re the only one I can really trust.”
“So now we’re just lying?”
He chuckled, tilting his head a little, gaze wavering. “I don’t know if you should be talking about lies. Didn’t you say you’d kill me if we saw each other again?” he looked back at you, “I’m still standing. What’s up with that?”
“You would’ve seen right through me. And killed me afterwards.” you only half-lied, “I didn’t feel like risking that.”
He raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t buying it. “I wouldn’t kill my best friend.”
“Banda.”
“Oh, we’re on last-name basis? Sorry.” he said emotionlessly, “I guess you really did mean it when you said you didn’t want to see me again. I thought you were joking.”
You made a face and he chuckled, “Come on. Turn around.”
“That’s awfully authoritative.” you mocked him. He raised his eyebrows, then pushed himself off the wall, closing the distance between the two of you just like that. You flinched a little but he only took a step to the side, then walked behind you.
“Let’s see.” he near-whispered. His fingers settled on the sides of your neck softly but enough to make your chest burn, “That’s Heart.” he said, impossibly quiet and close to you. There was something in his voice when he talked to you sometimes that you hated. It was quiet and low and touched parts of your hearts it shouldn’t. Even years ago, he always acted like this. He played around with your feelings, testing your reaction, for seemingly no reason at all.
Just for fun, you guessed.
You turned around just enough to look at him and he waited. You heaved a long sigh, before grabbing his shoulder and turning him around. He chuckled as he followed the movement, clearly amused by your behavior.
“Diamond.”
“Mm.” he hummed, spinning on his heel to turn back around, “Thank you. I’ll probably need your help in the last round.”
“Who says I’ll help you?”
“Do you genuinely have a good reason not to?”
You took a breath. And then left him.
Round thirteen. Or the last round, according to Chishiya. You were tense— Awfully so. It’s not that you feared dying. Or at the very least, not entirely. But it was more so the quiet plotting, revelations of alliances, last-minute decisions made based on instinct alone that scared you. Chishiya and Banda had both implied this round would be the last.
“Spade.” you spoke clearly. Ten seconds passed.
You tilted your head once the time was up and walked to the door, before waiting. Ten seconds more. Then you carefully and quietly opened it. You were careful to close it just as silently once you heard two familiar voices talking on the floor below you.
“So you do trust me, after all.” Banda said, stepping out of his cell. He was the one to tell you to wait. You almost regretted your decision the second you heard him claim you trusted him again.
“And you trust me.” you replied, reffering to the fact that he was clearly alive after trusting your word on his symbol. “Surprising.”
You looked over at him and saw the man he had seemingly become the ally of walk ahead of him. Banda tilted his head, “Unsurprisingly. Will you wait for me when we leave?”
You looked downstairs for a moment, seeing the suspected Jack of Hearts get cornered, and then looked back up at Banda. “Hm.” you hummed, looking around, “Should I?”
He simply shrugged before walking away, leaving you with just a smile. In a world like this one, was killing people really something to be shocked about anymore? After three years without him and more than a month in this place, were your thoughts on the matter that made you cut him off really still the same?
You scoffed. Of course not.
When the airship exploded above the prison, you stayed at the entrance to wait. And when Banda finally came, he smiled more genuinely than you’d seen him in years.
“You’re bloody.”
“Nothing new.”
“… Annoyingly so.”
BLUE LOCK BOYS AS ROMANCE TROPES !
( i ). characters— itoshi sae, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, mikage reo.
( ii ). contents— fluff, angst.
ITOSHI SAE + second chance at love !
it's raw with desperation and fear and hope— the way sae's fingers are clutching the fabric of your shirt. it's wasn't supposed to be this way. he kisses the tears trailing down cheeks, “you said it was over. you said it wasn't worth it. you said you didn't want—” you choke on your own words, hand closing in fists on your sides when sae mutters breathlessly, “i didn't mean it, never ever.” he says. something like guilt burns in his eyes, a taste of regret on his lips, uncertainty and impatience in his hastened breaths.
it's crazy, you think. the way he still has that effect he had on you years ago when you were both seventeen in the airport terminal, teary eyes and staggered breaths. when the fear that the distance would tear you apart first took over, and sae stopped believing. when you looked away from him for the first time and he didn't reach out to wipe your tears. it wasn't supposed to be this way. he was back after four years and you weren't supposed to be in his arms. you promised yourself you'd talk like old friends do, and he trusted himself that he wouldn't say anything to try and make you stay.
“i think it can work, you and me, us. just the two of us and it'll be enough.” you know these words have burned on his tongue for long, because they're warm on your lips. you're kissing him back like it's only natural to do so.“i'm already yours, always have been.” he murmurs.
ITOSHI RIN + childhood friends to lovers !
it's the warm and golden hues of the setting sun melting into the evening blues, splattered colours of contrast coming together— the mark of a newborn eve, the smell of wet earth after the first shower of spring and the cool caress of the breeze. rin is standing by the entrance gates to your school, leaning against the wall, head rested to the side as he waits for you.
you think you're caught in a trance. his back covers the remnants of the sunlight like the moon eclipsing the sun, casting shadows of orange glows. when he breathes, the shadows dance with him. he frowns in wait, and you catch up to him. when you smile, it's almost melancholy, “what's got you smiling like that?” rin eyes the solemn curve of your lips.
“hmm? i think it's ’cause i like you.” the words bleed from your voice in saccharine hues, in bittersweet whispers of unrequited love and fear that maybe you've ruined the carefully painted mosaic of years of knowing rin and the sea green gleam of his eyes, the quiet hums and smiles only you know, the knowledge that he doesn't know how to make paper planes, summer nights of horror movie marathons and trading ice creams.
rin parts his lips, eyes as wide as saucers. he sucks a breath in— searching for the second you say you're joking, “do you mean that?”
you nod and rin's arms swallow you whole, chests pressed so close your heartbeats sync and improvise as one.
“i like you too, really like you.” he breathes into your neck— lingers of relief and gratitude like he's breathing for the first time.
NAGI SEISHIRO + forced proximity !
past 2 am into the late hours of midnight blues and the heavy patters rain against the glass window, reduced to background noise because you're subconsciously trying to trace the steady pattern of nagi's breathing, eyes skimming the fall and rise of his chest every two seconds.
you've been awake since thunder rumbled the walls of your temporarily-shared bedroom for the first time tonight. some fun, memorable just-close-friends trip this is. perhaps it wasn't enough you had to share the bed with someone, maybe it's truly because that someone happened to be nagi seishiro that you can't sleep at all. you're conscious of every breath he takes, how his body expands and relaxes. the heat of your bodies melding as one like a blanket of second warmth over you. “you still awake?” you ask, low and soft. nagi hums, “mhm, if you still are.”
his voice is nothing but a breath of the comfort of not being alone, exhaustion from the day clawing at his throat. “you can sleep if you want.” you say, it's whispered into the night— a silent thank you because he's letting you know he's here as long as you want him, “i wanna stay like this.” he urges, bringing a hand to brush your hair behind your ear and let you him. you let him hook his arm around your waist, foreheads brushing lightly, breaths tangling in knots and lips seconds away from meeting. you watch the curve of his lips, how they move to form words, “i like this more.”
MIKAGE REO + fake relationship !
you think reo had always looked like midsummer nights adorned with princely smiles and bubbles of champagne in the glass, glitters of neon city lights against damp car windows, juvenile secrets traded as i love you's with the hope it lasts forever. ( it doesn't. )
it lingers in the way he kisses you these days— a small talk to fill in loud silences, pretense and improvised. you kiss him back— a lullaby of aching heartbreak, unrequited and young. it almost makes you forget about the blinding flashes of camera lights, hurrying to capture the moment mikage reo is seen with his partner.
it's just like he had asked you to, “date me” he'd said, missing the way your eyes lit up, “it doesn't have to be real, just enough so my parents stop setting me up for blind dates.”
“i don't think i can do this anymore.” your voice breaks, eyes refusing to meet his.
“what? why?—” he rushes close and you step back, “it's getting too real for me, i can't.”
he pauses— ponders your words, lets them replay in his mind over and over again, “...and you don't want that?” you do. so much that you said yes before thinking when he first proposed this, “what about you, reo? this... this means nothing to you right? none of th—”
“it does”, his voice is almost begging, “it means everything to me. you do. it's you and it's always been you.” he looks at you, wondering if he should continue. he does anyway, “it's real. i loved you every time i said it, every time i didn't say it. I'll say it again if you want me to—” and you hear it, like it's always been there, like it's all he's ever known, “— i love you, y/n.”
© seimirii 2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
post-argument fic, reader's still mad at wriothesley, the yearning and desperation from wriothesley is heavy in this one lul, established relationship, suggestive comments
brief biker!wriothesley thought.
disagreements don't happen often between you and wriothesley. you are both level-headed enough to maintain composure whilst talking through any issues, but in the scarce moments where it snowballs into something heated, it results in cold shoulders and uncomfortable silences born from residual anger.
wriothesley, who likes to be direct and to resolve things as they occur, lingers around you, hesitant to anger you more than he already has. he downright loathes how you walk on eggshells around him, unable to hold his gaze. in moments like these, he wants nothing more than just to pull you close and kiss you until you forgive him, bleeding apologies until you mend him with your forgiveness.
unfortunately for him, you had promised to go out for dinner with some of your mutual friends the night after your tense argument.
wriothesley's already there when you come straight from work, watching as you greet everyone with a big smile and wave, settling into the empty space next to him. all he gets is a tiny grin before your attention is swept away by furina, who sits directly in front of you.
he tries to act like it doesn't bug him when you turn to talk to clorinde, who sits on your left. tries to keep his desperation on the low when he asks for your attention, pointing to items on the menu that you'd like. tries to act like a kiss- a smile, even, isn't all he wants when he gives you the things you like from his plate.
if you don't look him in the eye for longer than five seconds, he might dissolve in his seat.
miraculously, wriothesley survives the torturous evening, and it's difficult to pretend like he isn't excited about going home and having you all to himself. he farewells everyone a little too enthusiastically, and drags you away with him before they can convince you to stay for drinks.
(though, if you wanted to, he would have complied and bitten back his complaints, but judging by the way you follow him without any reluctance, home was the right direction.)
since your shared car was dropped off for service, the only way of getting home was wriothesley's motorbike. he helps you on and you murmur a shy 'thank you' underneath your breath when he puts your helmet on for you, only getting on when you're safely secured and comfortable in your seat.
however, unlike usual when your arms would circle around his muscular torso tightly, your grip lingers awkwardly by his sides.
"doll, you need to hold on tight," he warns, starting the engine. you comply ever so slightly, ghosting your arms around him.
for wriothesley, who prioritises your safety more than anything else, it isn't good enough, so he gently pulls you forward, wrapping your arms around him himself. without another word, he drives off, catching you off guard. he hears a small yelp from behind him before your arms snake around him tightly.
wriothesley's sure he'll get a light scolding and a punch to the arm for scaring you like that, but as long as he gets to look you in the eye, he'll take whatever you throw at him.
bonus:
when you're back in the safety of your home, you lightly shove your helmet at his chest and begin scolding him for scaring you like that, but all he does is wolfishly smile at you.
"i warned you, gorgeous, that's what happens when you don't listen to me."
you huff, sliding off the leather seat, clutching your bag to your side, but wriothesley doesn't let you go far, pulling you back in to stand in between his legs.
"still mad at me?" his hands find purchase at your hips. you glance into his icy eyes before looking aside. "i'm sorry, i'll say it as many times as i need to. when are you gonna find it in your heart to forgive me?"
"when you apologise a thousand times."
he whistles. "a thousand? that's a lot."
"so get started."
"do you take other means of compensation?" his hands sneak under your shirt to rest on your waist and you immediately catch his wrists before he can go any further.
"are you even trying to apologise?"
he snickers. "i'm sorry."
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
Remember, requests are open.
1) “Is that really all you got?”
2) “Come on, you can do better than that.”
3) “I’m not even sweating yet.”
4) “Think I broke more of a sweat petting my cat than I did fighting you.”
5) “I’m sure you can hit me if you try hard enough. I believe in you.”
6) “So close.”
7) “You’re… boring me.”
8) “I expected more.”
9) “Why couldn’t the cops deal with you?”
10) “Oh, no.” (said really sarcastically)
11) “I’m sooo scared.”
12) “Honestly, if you weren’t threatening actual lives, you’d be more of a nuisance, really.”
13) “This is what I was called for? You?”
14) “What… is this?”
15) “Do you want me to slow down for you?”
16) “If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you get a hit in.”
17) “This is stupid. Goodnight.”
18) “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be good enough to beat me one day.”
19) “Come and get it.”
20) “That actually hurt. Wow.”
21) “Compared to my usual crowd, you’re nothing.”
22) “Get out of my way.”
23) “Move.”
24) “Having fun?”
25) “Aw, you’re not hurt already, are you?”
26) “I was just playing. Surely you can take more.”
27) “Oh my, is that blood? Just from that?”
28) “You have to get through me!”
29) “Shut up!”
30) “I can keep going.”
31) “This— this is nothing.”
32) “I’ll make you regret saying that!”
33) “Then let me make this a little more challenging!”
34) “Of course it hurts, dipshit.”
35) “You should be scared.”
36) “Stop— stop taunting me!”
37) “Fun? Fun? Don’t insult me.”
38) “I’ll show you better!”
39) “I can’t stand you.”
40) “Get out of my way!”
41) “Over my dead body!”
42) “I won’t let you get to them.”
43) “I’ll make sure you can’t hurt anybody else.”
44) “Over my grave, you bastard.”
45) “Dammit, all right, here we go!”
46) “I’ll take you down if it’s the last thing I do.”
47) “If I can’t take you down, I will never forgive myself.”
48) “Try and move me, I dare you!”
49) “You’re gonna regret that!”
50) “You want to see what I can do?”
51) “You’re nothing.”
52) “Keep taunting me and see what happens.”
53) “I’ll give you one chance, walk away.”
54) “Fine, I guess we’re doing this.”
55) “Y’know, talking during fighting isn’t very professional!”
56) You have a stupid smirk on your face, and I’m just trying to be serious. Why are you like this? Can we fight already?
57) Why are you taunting me? Stop— stop dancing. We’re in the middle of a fight.
58) When the cops/superhero/my friend told me what you were doing, I wanted to stay in bed. And now that I’m here, I’m thinking that maybe I should have.
59) Is that bomb fake or real. I can never tell with you.
60) I’m bleeding from your knife/kicks/punches, but I’m not gonna stop fighting until you’re finally taken down.
61) Every time you taunt me, I see red, and you know this. I should be stronger, but I’m not.
62) I won’t let you hurt the people I love. Not while I’m still breathing.
63) You notice that I’m breathing heavy, and you just keep smirking. I— I can keep going. I can.
64) We used to be friends, what happened to us? Why do we always have to fight?
65) If you’d just put that gun/remote/knife, we could go home, y’know? We don’t have to keep fighting.
66) You’re not fighting like you used to, what happened?
67) This is pathetic and a waste of my time, you’re in my way.
68) You’ve gotten weaker, I can’t help but let a smirk cross my lips, this is almost… funny.
You stumble against the wall with half-lidded eyes. It’d be so easy to just stroll by you, but for some reason, I can’t help but keep taunting you.
69) You hate me. I hate you. Yet, taunting you is one of my favorite things to do.
[healthy] secret relationship prompts
they try keep it a secret but everyone else knows
it's the rush of a secret that they both cherish
run an anonymous social media account
exchanging knowing looks in public -> words without saying them
sneaking out between breaks to say hello
their friends tried to set them up once before—it went terribly and now they keep up the facade to mess with them
they're shy
they like to mess with people.
a relationship then break-up for convenience reasons, though they fall in love behind the scenes just when one of them is introduced to someone new
friends who are part of opposing friend groups, but they don't want the attention if they're noticed hanging out together
someone in the centre of attention + someone hanging on the sidelines: they're fine as they are
one of them accidentally reaches out and now they're texting all the time
well-known Hollywood stars, who just so happen to be very private people
they unintentionally keep it secret
requested by anon
linking that heizou playlist here again for you to dance to while reading <3 happy bday my sweet sweet love you deserve nothing less than the world ily ily ily
tagging: @souglias (tysm for the ending idea ily 😌) and heizou lovers!!!! @alatusxiaoo @almond-adeptus (please let me know if you dont want to be tagged hsdhask)
Inazuma City, Inazuma. (Now playing: Caramelo Duro)
The sound of heavy rain splattering against the ground greets you and Heizou when you two step out of Uyuu Restaurant, leaving the both of you stranded under the small shelter outside the restaurant. With the way you two looked at each other in surprise, hands empty and minds blank, it was clear that neither of you had expected this to happen.
If the rain were lighter, or if it looked like it was going to stop soon, perhaps it wouldn’t be that bad to run back home now. But clearly, it didn’t look like any of them, so for the next (at least) half an hour, you and Heizou would stay stranded and umbrella-less under the shelter.
You had a feeling that you were going to get kicked out soon, too. A few stray dogs and cats shared the same thoughts as you and the detective, along with a few Inazumans, leaving very limited space for you and Heizou. You could only expect the sacred space beneath this shelter to be more packed in a few minutes’ time, which meant that you and Heizou had to find new shelter to take refuge in soon.
What if there was no need for shelter? Staying healthy was overrated and the rain looked way too inviting— you only live once, anyway. Impulsively, you grab Heizou’s hand and jump out of the shelter. You hear him let out a yelp when the cold, harsh rain slaps his face and damps his hair, and you laugh.
“What the hell?” he scoffs, but the wide smile on his face is undeniable. “My Watson, we’re going to get sick, you’re going to get sick—” you, of course, don’t listen to him, and only pull him further into the open, where the winds are more unforgiving and the downpour is harsher. With how hard the water droplets hit your back, it nearly feels as though you’re being massaged.
“Chances like these are hard to come by,” With how heavy the rain is, you have to scream in order for him to hear you. “Why not walk in the rain while we’re free? It’s not like we have anywhere to rush to, anyway.”
Fortunately, the heavy rain doesn’t deter you from hearing his beautiful, lively laughter. He squeezes your hand and pulls you to him — you squeal when water droplets drip from his fringe onto your forehead — while intertwining your fingers.
“I suppose you’re right,” he giggles. He playfully stomps in the flooded walkway of Inazuma City, purposely splashing water onto your pants. You return the favour by kicking a huge wave of water onto his white shirt, and the gleam in his eyes that follows tells you that a war is about to begin.
Screaming, you run and try your best not to slip as Heizou chases after you, shouting curses and letting laughter out every now and then. His hand barely grazes the back of your blouse multiple times, but as an Anemo user, it doesn’t take long for him to finally get a hold of you. Curse his seemingly unlimited stamina.
“It seems like you’ve forgotten what I do for a living,” he laughs yet again as his wet arms tighten their hold around your waist. Drenched maroon hair sticks to your neck when he leans on your shoulder and you squirm around, jokingly telling him to get lost.
You only just notice that the rain has slightly subsided where you are (you realise that Heizou chasing after you can make you run really, really far). The puddles present are much lesser now, the rain is a lot lighter, and the sky has become lighter. The drizzle that lightly beats your face feels much more pleasant than being slapped by bullet-like raindrops.
However, running far away from Inazuma City where the rain is heavier comes with a cost; there are no shelters here, so you and Heizou have two choices— you either walk another two hundred metres to hide under a cramped shelter shared by the citizens and strays of Inazuma City, or you stay in the rain and just deal with it while walking back.
Before you can make a decision, Heizou grabs your wrist to turn you around, holding both of your hands. You look at him through wet bangs as he hums, staring at your intertwined hands, “You said that we only live once, right?”
You’re not sure if you like where this is going. “Yes?”
“Dance with me, then.”
Ah. You barely have time to react, as Heizou pulls you back with him without warning. A yelp escapes from your lips when he swiftly turns you around, before pulling you flush against his back. The hot breath you feel on your neck greatly contrasts the cold drizzle enveloping you two, making you visibly shiver.
He chuckles and you realise it’s a sound that you want to hear over and over again. This time, you are more prepared when he turns you around again to take hold of both your arms, swaying slowly and steadily.
You ignore the uncomfortable feeling of muddy water from the puddles below seeping into your shoes as you gaze into Heizou’s eyes. The look he gives you is filled with so, so much love, the kind of love that feels like a strong breeze lifting you up in the air that tickles you all over and leaves you exhilarated, so much love that it is nearly unreal. But then you are reminded yet again that Shikanoin Heizou makes the unreal happen. Yes, Heizou makes the impossible happen— like how his soft gaze alone can make your knees go weak and forget all about the rain surrounding you.
“Mm, sweetheart,” he whispers, and a part of you nearly faints at the endearing pet name. His thumb starts caressing your arm, and his forehead leans down against yours. You can’t resist putting your hands on his chest in return. “We’re really, really gonna catch a cold now.”
You move your hands up to his shoulders and teasingly squeeze them, admiring the red that blooms on his face at the action. “Just a little longer, please?”
And, oh, you severely underestimate just how much Shikanoin Heizou loves you, because he always gives in to you. “As you wish, my dear Watson.”
You take one step forward, and he steps back with you. He spins and brings you along with him, giggling when you accidentally stomp into a puddle and the muddy water that splashes up stains your leggings. Your eyes constantly switch between gazing up at him and looking down at your feet, making sure to not step on his as you two continue bouncing and swaying along to the rain’s rhythm.
As though there is imaginary music playing in the background, Heizou pulls you into an upbeat dance routine, making you nearly forget just how much energy the detective has. His contagious smile spreads to your face and before you know it, the laughter shared between you two as you jump around in water puddles is louder than the rain around you.
Alas, the rain finally starts to clear up, and a part of you feels sad that the moment is ending. But before you can reluctantly make your way back home, Heizou’s hand moves faster, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a kiss.
Clearly, Heizou hadn’t planned this, with how clumsily his lips move against yours and how giggles escape from his mouth every now and then. But he gains control back easily, managing to teasingly brush his lips against yours, ticklish like the feeling of a butterfly on a deer’s nose. You swear he even licked your bottom lip at one point, but you don’t get the chance to scold him for doing so.
He pulls away, licking his lips in satisfaction. “Hm. Tastes like rain.”
“No shit, Sherlock. You just kissed me in the rain.”
“And I should do it again,” He laughs and brings you into his embrace again.