"Come On, Do Not Give Me That Face."

Not my usual stuff I write, but the 2.3 event really has me in a chokehold!

I keep thinking about a reader that’s been rejected by Albedo, slowly withdrawing from his life because she doesn’t want to be hurt anymore by him, even if he doesn’t know. Eventually she’s completely out of his life, trying to live without him back in the city since he’s always at Dragonspine. That’s when she meets ‘Albedo’ once again outside of town and Dragonspine. With that she’s just breaks down, hugging him and cries, asking why does it hurt to love him. ‘Albedo’ will probably take advantage and get her to fall even deeper, saying he does love her. Unfortunately, reader’s not stupid. She notices how he behaves slightly differently from before and how his star is sometimes gone, but doesn’t say anything because she genuinely loves this person, even if it’s not the Albedo she thought they were. So when the real Albedo finds the two and sees how affectionate she is to the fake, some thing just makes him angry at the situation.

Bro this just reminds me of siblings that don’t like each other, the younger being more loved and had a really loyal girl he disregarded. The older swoops in and gets her to love him for revenge originally, only to fall in love. The younger is mad, and tries to take them back, leading to a constant back and forth fight.

gojo satoru // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

take me down to the depths of your depravity

piety

bento and tea

at his mercy

media naranja.

it takes two

downward dog

my husband is an idiot

the boy who murdered love

spark.

among dawn flowers (the face of god)

the sweetest moment

satoru, not gojo

10/10- would come again

all that is solid melts into air

starboy

what i never told you

temperance

blush

the colour yellow

brat

afternoon tea(se)

watermelon sugar why

5 + 1

love potion no. 5

violet lights

winter

"gojo has a girlfriend!?"

still the same

mother of otherness, eat me

valentine's day

there's no medicine for falling in love

I have no words..

Since the Ikevil EN release date is fast approaching, here's a quick guide to help people who are still undecided choose which suitor to go for

Disclaimer: This is not a serious guide, but to the best of my knowledge, it's an accurate one. I also spent like, 10 minutes tops on this, so, you know, be warned

FUCK YOU ALL ADMIT IT- AYATO IS THE TYPE TO LOOK ALL HOT AND PRINCELY WHILE SWEATING A WHOLE BUNCH AFTER MURDERING A WHOLE ASS HILICHURL CAMP ON HIS OWN- HE WOULD DRY HIS FOREHEAD WITH HIS SHIRT SHOWING HIS ABS AND IF HE SEES YOU STARING HE WOULD GIVE YOU A LITTLE SMIRKAISJDIOAUIDASI UDIASMDUASIODUASIO UDOI

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆... | sae itoshi, shidou ryusei, kaiser micheal

part two with reo, rin and bachira soon!!

plot: you're in a nonpublic relationship, but one gesture in particular blows your cover <3

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

— sae itoshi

That you had always been attracted to impossible things was not unknown: as a child you loved unicorns, one of the most imaginative and magical creatures ever. You believed you could love even something impossible, and the same thing had more or less happened when you met your boyfriend, Sae Itoshi. Sae was something impossible, out of your reach for the simple fact that you were a very normal person when he was one of the most famous U-20 soccer players in the world and, above all, of the moment

Sae was impossible, and you had always liked the impossible. That's how you liked to tell your mother when she asked how you ended up in a relationship with him. Known for a big misunderstanding in a public laundry, for a reason still unknown to you, fate had decided that this was not the last time you would see each other

The choice had come when Sae had explicitly asked you for it: not that he was ashamed of you or anything like that, but fame brings negative things as well as positive ones. One of them was privacy. Although after years he was used to invasions of privacy even during a walk, he didn't want to ruin what had always been normality for you. So no one, other than your families and a few friends of yours, knew about you two

And so, a little over a year after you had made it official only to your families that you were together as a couple, the thing that was impossible for you was how your cover was still standing. You didn't mind being in a nonpublic relationship, in fact you found it more pleasant and intimate, but Sae was famous all over the world: you knew that sooner or later everything would collapse like a house of playing cards

And evidently that day was today

"So, who is she?" his teammate asks again, the Spanish accent thick in every word. Your fingers tighten around the handles of his sports bag, desperately searching for a way that doesn't confirm what practically everyone in the room has already assumed. 10 pairs of eyes stare at you curiously, waiting for either you or Sae to speak and make up an excuse that they can deny

The last match that ReAl had won against an equally Spanish team had ended less than an hour ago. It was Valentine's Day, and the stadium where the match was played had made VIP seats available to which only the players partners could access. The partners had a card previously given by the boyfriends which gave the possibility of walking in certain areas of the stadium, one of which was the locker room. You had remained in the popular stands for the entire match, and after the end you had decided to use your VIP pass, which Sae had given you a few days before, to go and congratulate and surprise him. You had purposely waited a full hour to get in just so all the other teammates would leave, but apparently something had been holding them back

The players didn't know you, it was a secret relationship after all. The partners who usually came to see their boyfriends knew each other, and Sae was still the only one no one had ever seen with a girl. Everything fit with the perfect fall of the cover that you had so carefully supported

"umh" you stutter embarrassed. The most damning proof you have is undoubtedly the Sae sports bag you have in your hands, which stands out for its black color instead of the white and red that ReAl uses. You take a few steps back, not knowing at all how to escape the situation, much less where Sae is, who you don't even see in the locker room. His stuff is here, his teammates are here, but where is he dammit?

"We've never eaten anyone, or at least off the field" says a boy who gets up, making the rest of his teammates laugh. You recognize him for being a braggart that Sae tells you about every now and then, who has 100 girls and every game brings a new one. You roll your eyes at the tasteless joke, trying not to let your annoyance show

"I probably went to the wrong locker room, please excuse me..." you say turning on your heel, heading towards the exit, but the boy's hand grabs your wrist just enough to make you immobilize "It's not a problem, you don't have to apologize. But I don't think you're here by mistake..." the boy says laughing cheerfully, and really, you don't understand all his humor. You try to free yourself from the grip on the wrist, but the soccer player doesn't seem to give in as he makes some of his teammates laugh with sleazy jokes

“Could you let go of my wrist?” you say trying to sound polite, but he shakes his head "We need to figure out who your boyfriend is first! Victor, is she your girlfriend?" the boy asks, making you turn towards another guy, who obviously shakes his head "Sanchez, is this yours?" he asks another again, and you can't explain why you have to suffer such humiliating treatment if you haven't actually done anything wrong

"Arion, is it your-" the boy says, but someone interrupts him "She's my girlfriend."

Everyone turns towards the voice, including you: Sae, fresh out of the shower wearing sweatpants and a simple towel around his neck, peeks out from the locker room showers. His eyes waver a little at seeing you here, surprised at the whole situation and above all not understanding how you ended up here. He tilts his head, his usual apathetic look at the boy next to you "You should let go her wrist" he says taking a few steps forward, the usual nonchalance typical of his character. "Oh! Oh, yes" says the boy, immediately pulling away, taking a few steps back. The grip on your wrist releases, easing the pressure you had built up. You breathe a sigh of relief, but at the same time remember what situation you are in: the relationship that you had covered for so long has just come to light

You look up at Sae, who you think is the least bit angry, but there isn't a shred of anger in his face, in fact, he almost seems relieved. He comes in front of you, taking his sports bag that you had in your hands "Thanks. Two minutes and we can go" he says putting it back on the floor, putting a clean t-shirt on and putting the towel back on in his black bag. You look at him embarrassed, not daring to look at any of his teammates who have remained silent in the meantime

Sae stands up, holding his bag with one hand and grabbing yours with the other, letting your palms and fingers connect "Let's go" he says, nodding his head. You leave the locker room, everyone's gaze still on you. Start walking towards the back of the stadium, heading towards the car parks dedicated to the players cars. A slight, uncomfortable silence hangs between you two, and you wonder if he's simply thinking of a way to restore everything to how it was and make your relationship nonpublic again

"It wasn't that bad anyway. You can ask your teammates to just shut up" you say, looking down, but a light squeeze on your hand makes you look up in his direction “Huh?” he asks, and you try to sound clearer "For the relationship. You can tell your classmates not to talk-" you say, but he cuts you off even before you finish "Do you want to make it nonpublic again?" he asks, and you find yourself thinking about it

Being nonpublic had never been a problem for you, you appreciated that Sae cared so much about your privacy. On the other hand, your privacy never really mattered much to you: you wanted to walk with him and hold his hand even in front of a crowd, not pretend not to know him as often happened. If being with him meant sacrificing something, you would have done so immediately and without even thinking about

“I'm actually okay with being public-” you say and at the same moment you see him sigh more calmly “What is it?” you ask curiously "I've been waiting a long time to ask you this. But I didn't want to seem hypocritical since I asked you to make it nonpublic" Sae says, and almost immediately you smile at his words

The impossible was something that actually often actually happened. It had happened that you got dating to the prodigy of Japan, and it was happening now when you were officially made his girlfriend for all his fans and the world

— shidou ryusei

“You went too far as usual” you say, rolling your eyes, albeit amused. Shidou chuckles, buttoning up the buttons that hide your chest “You should be used to it” he says looking up after finishing his work. You laugh softly, still amazed at how you let yourself be dragged into such a situation. But then you think about it and you understand that avoiding these situations with your boyfriend is far too difficult. Shidou cups your face in his hands, tilting your head slightly to look at his beautiful work: two red and purple marks stand out from many other small ones. He observes them with a certain pride, stroking the bite mark he left on you with his thumb

“I don't think this was the break the director intended” you say, walking towards the door, reluctantly releasing the grip Shidou had. You hear him murmuring something, but you don't pay attention to it as you brush your hair to the side, leaving the hickeys on your neck visible: you have to walk in an empty corridor and you're hot, so you're not at risk. You place your hand on the doorknob, headed to exit and return to the car, but you are petrified when the entire corridor turns out to be filled with journalists

You stand there, motionless, and Shidou appears behind you, also intending to leave. He stands still, but less shocked, a few steps behind you. Everyone turns in your direction, and an awkward silence hangs in the narrow space delimited by the walls. Many, if not all, notice the red marks on your neck and there are more than a few surprised expressions. Some cameras turn towards you, some journalists take their microphones in case the situation requires them

And you immediately regret having, for the umpteenth time, indulged Shidou's shitty ideas. You knew you had to wait for him in the car so that he could go home with you at the end of the interview, but his messages had convinced you that there was no harm in sneaking out for a few minutes. While you were waiting he had sent you messages telling you that his interview was late and that the director had advised him to go to a private room to relax before his shift. He had asked you to come in to keep him company, that you could sneak in for a few minutes since the corridors were empty, and that he simply needed you. And so you found yourself against the wall with your boyfriend's lips on your neck, killing time until his interview

But evidently something had gone wrong with the program in mind, because now you had more than 100 journalists waiting their turn and now they had a front page story. You and him had been together for a while, and the agreement between you was to keep your relationship nonpublic for a while because the media often went heavy on their idols partners

But the cover seemed to have been blown

"Shidou, Shidou Ryusei? With a mysterious girl?" says a journalist, directing the microphone at you "The king of the penalty area with a woman?" someone else says, and from then on you just hear everyone else making up name after name as they try to get some information out of you two

"Holy shit" you whisper to yourself, covering your hickeys with your hair, even though everyone has noticed them by now. You die of embarrassment at all these eyes staring at you, and the best option at the moment seems to be going back into the room and hoping that this is all just a trick your mind is playing on you. You knew that sooner or later you would make it official, but you didn't think this way and especially with you in these conditions. It all looked perfectly like the most colossal figure of shit the human lifeform had ever seen in this shitty life

You look for Shidou, but when you turn you can't find him anymore. You wonder if he seriously followed the advice to go back to the room and hope it's all a dream, but you know that's not your man's style: instead you feel your shoulders surrounded by his arm, which promptly squeezes you to the point of keeping you by your side alongside. You turn towards him, and on his face you notice that his usual smirk that never leads to anything good. Something's about to explode

"Ladies, gentlemen! One at a time, please" he says loudly, and the attention they previously had on you shifts to him, who has always dominated the scene better in a frighteningly natural way "This racket for WHAT? Two red marks? You've never seen worse, then" he says, and as you thought his joke provokes a small laugh from everyone

The journalists try to get the best place in front of you, and perplexed you turn to Shidou "Don't do anything I might regret" you say almost in a whisper, but he grins "Let me do it, babe. I tied them to my finger like fish to a fishing line" he says confidently, and it's his confidence that worries you. Some journalist raises the microphone, firing off questions that you don't even understand because of the speed. Shidou still doesn't understand them, and after several attempts he gives up; he waves his hand, moving the microphones away

"I thought I would talk today about my relationship with the beautiful girl in question here, but evidently the scoop will go to you and not to the agency we are in" he says dramatically, as if he actually regretted giving information to others. "What did you want to do?" you whisper perplexed, not knowing that his goal today was to make it official anyway. Shidou turns to you, grabs your waist and bends your back, his chest smeared against his “Media, meet my fucking beloved girlfriend!” he says, kissing you. Confused, you don't know how to react, but shortly after you give in and respond to the kiss, placing your hand against his face. The journalists explode, the cameras start filming and broadcasting. It's an understatement that you have shocked the media for at least the next few days, but with Shidou in the end everything is unpredictable and without explosions

It wasn't the way you expected to make it official, but as long as it works it's fine, right?

— micheal kaiser

The subtle smell of french fries hung in the air, mixing with the light air that resonated in the club. Everyone's chatting made the evening pleasant, which actually seemed to go too well

Hamburg was huge as a city, Ness himself recognized it, yet he had lived there for a good part of his life before moving to Berlin on the campus of Bastard Munchen. You had been here a few other times, and you had fallen in love with the small and cute clubs that the city offered

When you returned to the hotel room with Kaiser you had begged him to go out tonight, since you had arrived you had spent all your time at training or at the match, which had ended with the victory of the German team. And Kaiser has little chance of telling you no, it's something he just can't do: so, a few hours later, you and other team members found yourself in a club celebrating the victory. Sitting next to him you were calm, after all he was your boyfriend and his team knew about you two, unlike the rest of the world. However, being in a public place the only affectionate gesture you could allow yourself was his hand on your thigh, covered by the table and which no stranger could see

Everything was going well: Bastard Munchen had won today, tomorrow morning you would return home and take a few days break from being the team manager. Everything was perfect

But obviously perfection, even if sweated with difficulty and attention, does not last long

You were chatting with a team member when, from afar, you noticed a group of guys watching you. It was nothing new, the players were famous and you were also quite well known thanks to your role in the team. Kaiser notices the same thing, tilting his face towards the small crowd "You're wanted" you say jokingly, and he snorts in a mock annoyed way: you know how much he actually loves this attention from fans, which feeds his big ego. The guys step forward, followed by others and yet others, until the table is surrounded by all the guys shyly asking for an autograph or a photo

The group, made up of a girl and two boys, approaches Kaiser asking to take a photo. He accepts, reluctantly lifting the contact of his hand on your thigh, and you can read his slight annoyance in his cerulean eyes. You giggle a little at seeing him annoyed, but you don't let it show

Then, the dinner that was supposed to be quiet and a way to spend time with your boyfriend turns out to be yet another time when public life comes before private life; it doesn't make you sad though, because seeing Kaiser happy while talking to his fans makes you happy too

You stay to eat your chips and chat with Ness, who unlike Kaiser only had to sign a few quick autographs, and every now and then you glance at Kaiser who stayed behind to talk to the group of people. You notice how completely comfortable he seems, so you don't worry

But then something reaches your ear

"We are moving to another club to spend the rest of the night, would you join us?" a boy says, and the rest of the group nods. Kaiser is used to these somewhat sudden questions, fans often cross the line almost without wanting to "I can't guys. The team is celebrating together tonight" he says playing with a lock of his blue hair, and you try to be indiscreet in listening to the conversation

"What a shame..." says a boy, and Kaiser chuckles "I know guys. Maybe next time" he says, and he seems about to go back to the table, when the girl stops him by taking a few steps forward "Or maybe there's is it a girl you're waiting for?" the woman asks, and you immediately turn towards their direction, trying not to cough up what's in your mouth for the surprise

You see Kaiser a little perplexed, you notice it from the way he tilts his head trying to come up with an excuse that seems convincing "Maybe. But I shouldn't tell you, guys" he says, and this time you're the one who's perplexed

You see him turn towards you, just enough to give you a brief wink that you notice all too well. You pretend like you didn't see him, turning away, but you really don't understand where he's going with his speech. You've been together for quite a while and it's always been confidential for a matter of convenience, being nonpublic you had many pros but at the same time many cons. And at the time you had never talked about making it public, as much as you actually wanted to be like this

"Really? Are you in a relationship?" the boy asks, and Kaiser smiles satisfied "I don't know. Do you think I have it?" he asks, and everyone immediately nods "There are rumors that you are dating the German model who is always on the front page of Vogue" says one, but the other corrects him "What are you saying! He could be dating the girl he was spotted with last week passed in front of the city's cathedral" says the other, and you see in Kaiser's gaze an amusement you've never seen before. You nervously bite your nail, not knowing what he's doing and above all why he didn't complete the conversion a few minutes ago. What the fuck is going on?

"You're both wrong! The rumors all agree that he's dating the manager of Bastard Munchen, have you seen how they look at each other? Or how she's always the first one he greets when the players take the field?" says the girl very convinced, placing her hands on her waist

It is at that moment when all your beliefs fall away. You thought you hadn't made the situation so obvious, but evidently you failed

You turn towards them again, trying to hide the blush that you now know has taken up residence on your cheeks. Kaiser claps his hands happily "Right! I'm waiting for her" he says, and everyone in the group's jaw drops "Are you serious? Are you seriously with the manager?" the boy asks, and he nods. You notice too late how the girl, peeking out from Kaiser's figure, has noticed you: you hide your face by looking down, but it's too late now

"But she's here!" the girl says, and Kaiser rolls his eyes as if he hadn't noticed you “I know. My girlfriend, yu-hu Y/n!” he says, raising his hand to greet you as if he hadn't just dropped a bombshell on a mere group of fans. You raise your face trying to look as calm as possible, as if everything is actually normal and your heart isn't going 100 times faster than normal. Kaiser comes closer, sitting next to you again and putting his arm around your shoulders, while the group looks at you surprised but happy "I don't like to keep my girlfriend waiting, guys. Have a good evening though!" he says, cuddling while you are literally trying not to start screaming

The guys nod, both saying goodbye and thanking Kaiser for his time. When they leave, you turn to him with the reddest face ever "What did you just do?!" you ask in surprise, but with his free hand he caresses your arm, making slow and gentle movements "Doing what I should have done a long time ago. Isn't it better this way, Schatz?" he asks. You suppress the urge to insult him, because the truth is, you too would have liked to make it official a long time ago

“Do you know that now you will have to confirm this to the whole world and not just to one group?” you ask with a sigh, relaxing the nerves that have been on edge for minutes. He smirks, nodding as he grabs his phone “I've had a post ready on Instagram for a while. It's been in the drafts for a long time, how about I post it now?” he asks, and you curse yourself for never being able to be mad at him

You both had each other's fingers tied, it was too obvious by now. Maybe it really was time to share your love with the world and not just with the team, as it has been until now

— ☆ you can call me yours.

category: just fluff. and fluff. and fluff.

content warning: alluding to depression, mention of killing if you squint.

notes: just a short drabble. i love soft nanami who's down bad. hope everyone enjoys.

masterlist. dividers by @cafekitsune.

nanami's life had been... well, monotonous, as he words it. the corporate job pays well but it doesn't offer any joy— instead it drains him further. his coworkers, though most are polite and nice, don't exactly mix well with him. there's always a distance, and as a result, he has little to no stimulating conversations. well except gojo, but its more annoying than stimulating.

his whole routine had become one dull habit, the same thing everyday, not a thing different, not a thing amiss. his apartment felt more desolute as each day passed. he craved for something, something that breathes life to him, that breaks the cycle of monotony.

and so, in that tight routine of his, he always visited a certain bakery. he liked the breads there, not a sweet tooth like satoru but he had a preference for that particular bakery's goods. he usually visited before work and if he felt like not cooking dinner, he'd simply eat there.

that being the case, he was visiting again today. he had a majorly awful headache today. the dark circles under his eyes looked darker and the kind baker offered him a sympathetic smile before packing his order.

he heard the twinkle of the bell, some customer came in but he didn't look. rather the sound made the ache worse. he paid no heed to the customer coming up behind—

"hey yuna!"

his ear perked up as the sound of footsteps grew louder and louder, till it stopped, not behind him, but beside him. why did that obnoxiously loud yell not hurt the nerves of his brain?

he watched you engage in a warm conversation with the baker, your expressions so animated that he probably didn't even know his stolen glances had morphed to blatant staring. it was one of those cliché moments he saw in those teeth rottingly sweet romcoms, how the reality had apparently slowed down while his eyes zeroed in on you.

the slant of your nose, the crinkle of your eyes even the moles, both faded ones and prominent, the way your lips chirped away. like a sweet little sparrow.

"—nanami? mr. nanami?" the baker called out, her brows furrowed a little as nanami snapped out of his trance. god he prays none of them noticed that.

he nodded as he took the paper bag, taking his wallet out, seemingly nonchalant and unfazed of his surroundings but he was well aware of your stare his way. it should annoy him, he doesn't like to be starred at. yet he had done the exact same.

what a hypocrite.

he paid and turned to leave, his eyes catching yours for that second, and again everything slowed when you gave him the most beautiful, gorgeous smile he ever saw. it was warm like sunshine yet not too bright to burn the eyes, enough to melt the cold away.

he was in a dilemma for a moment as he stepped out and away from your line of sight. he pressed his palm against his chest, his brows furrowing as he wondered what the fuck that was?

but he forgot about it soon enough, went about his day and compartmented it in his brain as a mere blip.

you've gotta be kidding me.

yet again, after two days, he finds himself in the bakery again and this time you beat him to it. you were standing against the counter chattering away— quite the talker you are, while plopping a strawberry in your mouth. his eyes sharpened on the action, your lips and how plump it looked— dear god help him.

he cleared his throat before walking in, ignoring your gaze like he ignored the other customer's glance. there were scant few but it was easy ignoring them. yours, though, was quite heavy.

he ordered the same again, he didn't even need to say it, the owner already packing it away.

"you should try my new pastry, nanami. its well liked." the owner grinned as she gestured at the plate of pastry in your hand, and maybe to really sell her friend's words, you smiled wide, quite too exaggerated. you're overselling it, really.

"...pack that in too then." he uttered quietly before taking his wallet out, quite conveniently missing the way your smile stuttered a second, getting flustered by his voice that you heard so clearly for the first time. you gave your friend a shocked look and your friend nodded in return like 'i know right'.

he left and again, stopped to put a hand on his chest, his brows furrowing. again his heart raced like crazy, and he was concerned not because he didn't know what he was feeling— no he was concerned because he had never felt this alive. not in quite a while.

so he tried to categorise this again as a blip. shuffle it to the back of his head, unimportant like the ads you see passing by.

but fate works in obvious ways.

so everyday from then he sees her. he has your work clothes memorised, the shades of chapstick you use often, the different hairstyles, the orders you make often and the ones you avoid (that crinkle in your nose is cute), when you look like you're about to kill someone or in need of open arms. he becomes quite confident in his skills of secretly admiring, eavesdropping like its second nature to him. he frowns too when you frown, complaining about that creepy boss of yours. he wished that boss was a curse so he could get rid of him.

but as days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months, and the only interaction between him and you were stolen glances and polite smiles, that warmth in his heart dwindled. no he was still enamored with you, your smiles were a change enough in his destitute life, he loved every second of it.

but now he wants to horde it all, all for himself. he wants more. he wants to see more of those expressions, listen to more of your chatter till his ear bled and he'd still smile. he has these domestic fantasies. truly he's whipped.

but that ugly reality rears its head, reminding him he has no escape from the shackles of his loneliness. not once has he seen any interest from you, anything that could possibly mean you're interested in him more than the next stranger passing by. that he isn't just background noise in your life.

yet he feels its for the best, this purity untouched by his tainted hands. he was no worthy for you(not that anyone would ever be). he didn't know if he could make you smile like you always do, if he would be able to share your burden, kiss your tears away. he didn't know if he'd be enough.

he didn't know if he would be wanted.

but then he's broken out of his chain of thoughts, his coworker lightly shaking his shoulder and gestures ahead. and its like his world just— stops.

"this is y/n everyone! a recent join so please make them feel welcomed here!"

its like a fever dream. you. you're working here? his breath hitched as your eyes found his and he swore his world stopped like it did when he first saw you, you flashed him the warmest smile— not the fake, polite one. no, it was like it was meant for him and only him. a knowing one. like you came for him. you finally caught him.

and once the buzz settled down and his dumbfounded self sat back, typing away while his mind was in fantasy land— you came. leaning against his desk, you gave him a coy smile, your smile trembling like your hands that you hid behind yourself.

you were nervous— because of him?!

"so how does going out with me sounds, mr. nanami?"

"kento."

"huh?"

"you can call me kento."

reblogs are appreciated! :D

plz dont take away his new friends : (

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 .ᐣ (reupload!)

a husband's call.

ᯓ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 .ᐟ neuvillette, jing yuan, ayato, sunday x fem!reader (separate), feat. fu xuan, ayaka, thoma.

ᯓ 𝐜𝐰 .ᐟ GUESS WHO'S BAAAAACK, im so sorry for reuploading this even months after i returned, but hey guys look yet another fic that's prob been done before 😻, mentions of suicide, mentions of 'cheating' (literally nothing tho), mentions of torture and death (sunday is just a girl🎀), banter, fluff, crack, SFW, i am not very proud of this one (like wow my writing fell off here 💀), 2.7k words (yay a short one!!), god i love this trope, can y'all tell i really like sunday? 😔 rbs are appreciated!! <3

ᯓ NEUVILLETTE .ᐟ

𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 the residential wing of the Palais, swinging open the doors, marching in through the threshold and right for the parlour area.

The butler scrambled after him, frantic. “Monsieur Neuvillette, please, take a moment to calm do—”

“Where is my wife?” The Chief Justice’s voice thundered, and he continued storming through the halls. “I wish to see her. Now.”

“She’s—the Madame is in her study, Monsieur. She doesn’t wish to be distur—”

“No one is to interrupt us while I speak with my wife.” Finally, the Iudex stopped in his tracks and faced the butler. The usually calm, soft-spoken judge was icy and severe as he glared down at the frazzled attendant. “In the meantime, prepare the carriage.”

“Of course, Monsieur—but, may I ask why?”

Neuvillette heaved a sigh, and fatigue washed over his sharp features. “For the moment, please just do as I’ve ordered.”

“Oh, yes, of course…” The butler bowed three times before turning rushing off. “I shall have the coachman prepare it right away!”

The Chief Justice wasted no time in turning and heading down the hall for his wife’s study, and immediately entered without knocking.

You jumped in alarm at the abrupt slam of the door, and your book tumbled off your lap as you rushed to stand. “Neuvillette, what on ear—”

You hastily backed up as he charged toward you, startled and frightened. Oh no, what did I do? He looks furious!

“Do you know,” he began, extending a hand in a flash and grabbing your arm, pulling you toward him. Even though Neuvillette appeared utterly incensed, his grip was not bruising. It was gentle, and he swiftly curled an arm around your waist as he pressed you closely to him. “How utterly terrified I was when I received your letter?”

“What letter?” You placed a hand on chest, trying to calm him down. Those violet, slitted eyes of his were dark with untold emotions—fury, fear, and terror. You couldn’t fathom what had flustered the calm, gentle Chief Justice into such a raging state. What has happened to scare him so? You could feel his hands shaking as he gripped you tightly.

“This letter.” Neuvillette wrenched out a scrunched piece of paper from his coat pocket. “It is addressed to me from you. In your handwriting. Do you hate me so much, that you wish to torture me with such…such—”

“I never wrote this.” The contents of the letter was, yes, penned in your handwriting—at least, a very accurate forging of it—and it spoke of your apparent intentions to throw yourself off one of the cliff faces of Mount Esus. “What is this? A suicide note?” You continued reading, and you were supposedly expressing how discontent you were with being married to such an ‘exalted, unreachable’ man like Neuvillette and it had driven you into great depression.

Shaking your head, you looked up into the distressed face of your husband. “Neuvillette, I assure you, I would never write such a horrible thing as this. I’m not suicidal in the least. Not with you. You make me very happy.”

“I was scared. So scared.” The Chief Justice buried his face into the dip between your neck and shoulder, clinging to you like a frightened child would its mother. Rain lashed against the windows. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, fingers entangled in your hair. “I’ve never felt such terror in all my life. Who could be so cruel as to do this? What if they had kidnapped you, thrown you off the cliff, made it seem as if you really were miserable with me—"

You kissed the top of his head. “That won’t happen. How could you ever make me miserable? Do you know how long I prayed for a husband like you? You treat me like a queen.”

You could feel his erratic heartbeat drumming against your chest, and you threaded your fingers through his silvery locks gently. “Shall we spend the evening together? Just you and me? How about a weekend getaway?”

Butterfly kisses ghosted the skin of your nape and shoulders, and Neuvillette’s right hand dropped to clutch at your left hip. “Just as long as you’re at my side the entire time.”

“I’ll stick to you like glue,” you chuckled into his ear, and you wound your arms around his neck. “A little holiday in Liyue sounds nice. You need a break. How about it?”

“Mm,” The Iudex hummed appreciatively, emerging from your neck and he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. His unfairly long and curly lashes cast shadows across the apples of his cheeks. “Somewhere isolated?”

You tilted your head and pressed up into him further, eyes on his mouth. “Of course. I’ve been craving some real Crystal Shrimp. And proper Liyuean tea.”

“Oh, yes,” he chuckled lowly, and he leaned in, whispering against your lips. “…It’s stopped raining.”

“I should hope so,” you smiled up at him. “You’ve got nothing to worry about now.”

ᯓ JING YUAN .ᐟ

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑-𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 had been looking all over for you, and he was starting to get worried. He’d checked all your favourite places—garden, lounge, his office, your office, library, even places downtown—but you were nowhere to be seen.

I want to play chess with her. Jing Yuan always had to be around you. That was the fact of the matter. If you weren’t around, he was down in the dumps. He was so besotted with his wife, even after centuries of marriage.

After going around in circles for a little while, the General finally came across Yanqing. “Yanqing, do you know where my wife is?”

His retainer blinked up at his master. “Uh, yes, general. She’s with Fu Xuan, in the garden. Playing chess.”

“Without me?” Jing Yuan couldn’t keep the inflection of a whine out of his tone. I’ve already checked the garden, and she wasn’t there! But, that was a few hours ago now. Aheming, Jing Yuan righted himself. “Ehem, that is to say—thank you, Yanqing. Go take a break.”

Yanqing eyed his mentor warily. “…Yes, general.”

Ignoring his novice’s look, Jing Yuan immediately made his way back to the estate gardens and searched through the hedges for you. Soon, your lovely form came into view, and the General picked up the pace.

“—Thrashing Jing Yuan,” Fu Xuan was saying, casually moving one of her chess pieces across the board. “He’s probably wandering around looking for yo—oh, General. Here you are.”

Two strong arms encircled your waist, and you were abruptly tugged into the warm chest of your husband. His shock of ivory hair brushed over your left cheek. “You promised you’d verse me later.”

“Oh, I don’t recall.” You grinned at Fu Xuan, who rolled her eyes at the General’s blatant affection as he nuzzled into your nape. “Did I? My goodness, must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Do you like Fu Xuan better than me?” he lamented, clutching you tighter. “You do, don’t you? Well, why not marry her, then?”

“I have your blessing?” You bit back your laughter, waggling your eyebrows at the huffing Diviner sitting across from you. “Well, then, don’t mind if I do.”

“Verse me in chess first,” your husband murmured, nibbling at your neck. “Then you can wed her.”

“No, I think I’ll see myself out,” Fu Xuan sighed, gathering up her things. She looked like she was about to throw up. “You two make me nauseous. Have fun, I guess.”

You bid her a chipper farewell while Jing Yuan petulantly ignored her, too occupied with you to bother paying respects to the Master Diviner of the Divination Commission. Patting his arm, you leaned your head against his comfortingly. “Alright, my future wife is gone now. We can play chess.”

Instead of letting you go and taking a seat across from you, Jing Yuan picked you up, sat down in your spot, and situated you nicely on his lap, before burying his face back into your chest. “You’re a tease. I practically turned the entire Luofu upside down looking around for you. For hours. Hours, you hear? Only to find you cheating on me with that pink-haired Diviner.”

“Cheating’s a bit of an overstatement, my dear. You want to play chess, or are you going to fall asleep on me again?”

“Chess, of course.” He made no move to follow through with it. The man was practically purring into your chest. “I won’t go easy on you.”

“Like you ever do.” You lightly massaged his scalp with your nails, running your fingers through his lovely hair, making him preen at your attention. If this man was a cat, he’d be purring like an engine right about now. “Sure you’re not going to take a quick nap first?”

“Absolutely.” Jing Yuan’s cheek was laid on your right breast, a fully innocent gesture. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” You continued gently massaging his head, feeling quite content yourself. You gave the man one minute before he fell asleep. And you were right.

You let him sleep. It was bliss—peaceful, sitting together like this. Something that, even after centuries of marriage, you could never grow used to.

ᯓ AYATO .ᐟ

“𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 my wife, Thoma?” The Yashiro Commissioner rummaged about his coat sleeves and pulled out two bobas, striding through the halls of the Kamisato Clan’s estate with purpose. “I have some bubble tea to share with her.”

Thoma smiled to himself, following behind Kamisato Ayato. “She is with Lady Ayaka at present, my lord, in your chambers. I do believe your wife will be overjoyed at your return.”

“I’ve missed her dearly.” Ayato hurried along, taking a turn and making his way toward your shared bedroom. “If you would accompany Ayaka for the rest of the afternoon while I spend time with my wife, it would be much appreciated, Thoma. I’ll get you some boba another time.”

“Don’t worry about it, my lord.” The head housekeeper tried not to grin too much at his boss’ unending antics around his beloved wife. “All that matters is you having a relaxing time with Her Ladyship.”

“Absolutely right. See? This is why you’re so reliable, Thoma. You always know exactly what to say.” Lord Ayato is in a particularly good mood today. No wonder. He just arrived home from a long trip overseas and the first thing out of his mouth once he set foot in Inazuma again was his wife’s name.

The duo stopped before a door and Ayato swiftly lifted a hand to knock. There was a shuffle, quiet words from the two women behind the door, and the patting of socked feet upon wood. The door slid open, and there you were—still in your jinbei.

“Ayato!” you exclaimed, flinging your arms around him. “It’s been months! You’re finally home! Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

“Are you alright, my dear?” Ayato didn’t get a chance to thank Thoma for quickly plucking the two bubble teas from his hands so he could hug you back. “You sound stuffy, like you’ve got an awful cold.”

You sniffled, and then coughed. Then you snivelled again. “Yes. I caught the flu two days ago. Ayaka’s been keeping me company.”

There was a soft flash of grey-blue and there his sister was behind you, beaming up at her brother. “Welcome home, brother. I trust you are well?”

“Quite well. I did not expect to come home and see you sick as a dog! Have you been taking the appropriate medicine?”

“Ayaka almost throttled me trying to get the horrid stuff down my neck.” You turned and waddled back to your and Ayato’s comfortable futon, sitting up against the pillows. He followed after you like a lovesick puppy, accepting the two bobas from Thoma. Sighing, you put your face into your elbow and coughed. “It’s…” You wheezed again. “Working.”

“We’ll leave you two to it.” Ayaka placed a hand on Thoma’s shoulder and they turned to leave. They both smiled back at both of you. “Rest up. Both of you. Brother, make sure she drinks that tonic.”

“Will do,” he said, ignoring your aggravated groan. He brushed back your hair from your forehead, and the door clicked shut. “Want some boba?”

“I love you,” you immediately said upon him handing you your bubble tea. “Marrying you was the best decision ever.”

“As long as I have boba on me, huh?”

“I can make a few exceptions.”

Ayato smiled, poking your cheek, before leaning in, heading right for your mouth. “Can I have a ki—”

A hand smacked him away. “No! You’ll catch my cold. And I’m all snotty at the moment. Drink your boba.”

“I can just get sick with you.” He shrugged. But he yielded to your request and crawled in under the covers next to you, chewing away at some tapioca pearls. “Now, tell me. What have you been up to while I was away?”

“Keeping the entire Commission afloat,” you snarked, no bite behind your words. “It was so boring without you. I didn’t have anyone to go horseback riding with in Chinju Forest.” You had a sip of your bubble tea, wiping your nose with a tissue. You relished the caramelly taste. “Anyway, how did the meeting go? Since you acted as Ambassador to the Dawn Winery, was it?”

“I did, and the relations went exceptionally well, if I do say so myself. Inazuma is bound to have an onslaught of dandelion wine within the next month.”

“Wonderful. I could use a good glass of wine.” You sighed and relaxed against your husband’s shoulder. “…I’m glad you’re home.”

“I am, too.” Ayato nuzzled you. “Are you warm?”

“Very.” You closed your eyes. You had another sip of boba. He laced your fingers together, and you smiled. Even bedridden, you were content as could be.

ᯓ SUNDAY .ᐟ

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 Head had his icy moments, but nothing compared to this. Every staff member was scared witless, shaking as they were dismissed from his presence, leaving him and his victim alone. The poor soul on the receiving end of Mr. Sunday’s placid wrath was visibly shaking.

“Now.” The Head of the Oak Family stood with his hands held tightly behind his back, staring frostily down at his target, halo glowing, having just recited his incantation for the light of the Harmony, calling on THEM. “I will ask you once more, and you will have no choice but to answer honestly. Question: where is my wife?”

“I—I don’t know! I swear—argh!” An expensive shoe pressed down on the sobbing man’s hand harshly, Sunday’s golden eyes frozen to a murderous amber. The man clutched at his head in agony. “It hurts! It hurts! Please, stop!”

“It won’t hurt if you tell the truth.” The Family Head’s voice remained as calm as an arctic sea. “Yet, you continue to refuse. Must I bloody my hands to extract my wife’s true whereabouts from you?”

“N-No, just—please…” THEIR light was shredding at the man’s thoughts. “I really don’t know!”

“Question: is your hirer a lackey of the IPC?”

“Argh—yes…” Sunday’s victim fought for breath. 

“Is my wife alive?”

“…Yes…ugh…”

“Is she unharmed?”

“…I don’t…know.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“…I don’t—hngh! Yes…”

“Where is my wife?”

“I can’t tell you!”

And then the man let out a wail, mental state driven to the brink. Sunday’s fists tightened into two white-knuckled balls. “Oh, yes, you can, and you will. The Harmony rejects you. THEY reject you. Tell the truth.”

“Sh—She is…your wife is…”

“Where?”

“She’s on Penacony. Hidden in a…ugh—warehouse. Guarded. Not in the Dreamscape.”

“Where is this warehouse?”

“That…I honestly don’t know. That’s all they told me.”

Sunday narrowed his eyes, glacial, before whirling around and marching for the doors. He flung them open, and called his men in. 

They stood to attention. Sunday coldly regarded each of them. “Send this man back in pieces to the IPC. Warn them that if they do not reveal my wife’s whereabouts within the next twelve hours, they will have a very big problem on their hands.” He threw a repulsed look back at the screaming man. “Shut him up for good. Make sure that all IPC delegations and influences in the Dreamscape…” The Family Head approached his desk. “Are cut off, imprisoned—or, better yet, killed.”

“Yes, sir!” One man back knocked the IPC thug out, dragging him away. 

Sunday coolly clicked his pen. “Send a clear message that consequences for any inaction on their part will be dire. I want my wife back, and I want her back by tomorrow.”

all rights reserved © kisstrela 2024. do not copy, repost, redistribute, translate, plagiarise or modify my work(s) in any way on any platform. thank you.

cw: drunk reader

Diluc’s strength is no joke.

You barely remember in your late teenage years when, for some reason, Kaeya mischievously put Diluc and a man in one room together to do an arm wrestling challenge.

At the time, you were worried, because his opponent was twice Diluc’s size. The man looked like he could crush a watermelon with only his fists.

As the crowd gathered around to spectate the competition between the former cavalry captain and the giant, you watched with bated breath as the countdown went down. You mulled over interrupting their business, there were a lot of grown men cheering and yelling making bets on who would be the victor, you decided not to, because there was also a part of you that was curious on what would happen.

When someone hollered for them to begin, everyone expected some kind of struggle. But there was only a curt and loud thud.

Diluc, in one swift motion, easily overpowered the bigger man’s arm by pining it firmly on the surface.

You underestimated him. Diluc really took his training seriously, and it would be more evident ( in his physical growth ) as he got older.

So now, in the present, your sober self will probably regret this proposition you just made with him once you wake up tomorrow.

“We don’t really have to do this, my love,” Diluc says, a worried frown plastered on his handsome face. “You’re not in the right state of mind – you ought to go to bed.”

Archons only know where you gained your confidence. After two pints of beer in his tavern ( in which he vehemently disapproved of but allowed you to indulged only this once ), you were immediately red and intoxicated.

( Thankfully, it was closing time when you started sputtering out unintelligible comments and murmurs. Diluc wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he enjoyed the way home to the manor because you kept on spoiling him with small kisses on the cheeks, and how he was so “strong” and “so great.” It was going to be a secret between the two of you.

Now that you both were finally inside your shared bedroom, Diluc’s plan was simple: to give your affections back tenfold by relishing on your adorable self’s clinginess and cuddling you before succumbing to slumber. But apparently, after changing into comfortable sleepwear, you had other plans. )

“Am not drunk!” you exclaim, before clumsily pulling him closer. Diluc assists you by easing himself right into your embrace. “How dare you say that, you—“

“I did not even say that you were inebriated,” Diluc retorts, and you catch the small smirk on his kissable lips. Wow. You really want to wipe the smugness in his face by kissing him. Or you want him to kiss you. Eh, both is good. “You are staring. Do you need anything? Maybe we should rest now and—“

“Nuh–uh.” You shake your head stubbornly. You tighten your hold around your beefy husband who looks down at you with obvious softness in his scarlet eyes. “Arm wrestle with me. Please?”

Diluc caresses your cheek with his thumb. “I do not think that is a good idea.”

You grin, “But that’s what you think. I, however think that it is a good idea!” Unaware, you start to roam your hands under his silky shirt. Diluc visibly stiffens, when you reach certain spots in his defined muscles. “Pleaaaasee?”

You wonder if Diluc has caught on, with the way he begins to blush from your insinuations. For a moment, he sighs in defeat, and then presses his lips on your forehead. He whispers, “Alright.”

You celebrate when he takes you to the dresser. He gently lets you sit on the plush stool, while he takes another chair to be beside you. You excitedly swing your arm, waiting for his own, and you cackle in delight when his warm fingers intertwines with yours.

“Don’ flirt with me. ‘s not a good a strategy,” you claim, and Diluc surprises you by kissing you promptly on the cheek. “Diluuuuc. . .”

“I cannot help it,” He confesses, looking a little timid and apologetic. But you know that he may do it again. “But if that is what you wish, then—“

“Later,” you pout. It’s not like you don’t like his kisses. There’s a more important thing to do here! “e’re gonna compete first.”

As you explain the rules of arm wrestling to him despite the basics already ingrained in your brains, you fail to notice how Diluc keeps on gazing at you with such fondness.

“Also, just because you do lifts and I don’t doesn’t mean you’ll go easy on me,” you boldly say. Diluc has as advantage, sure, but you believe that you can find a way in breaking his victory streak. You just can feel it in your bones. Trust.

But as always, Diluc keeps on defeating you. But the good thing about it is that your husband continues to dote on you even more, even if you grumble at him.

With the loving ( and supportive ) glances he sends you while you attempt to beat him and random kisses he gives you every time he wins “my reward” he says—you repeatedly tell him not to flirt with you, and he, in turn, answers again with “I just couldn’t help it.”