-- Touch Deprived Boys

Can you please write dumb/subtle/random/cute things batboys will do while they are crushing on reader?

♯ FEEL YOUR LIPS CRUSH . . .

— gn!reader, fluff

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

becomes overly observant but awkwardly obvious

bruce wayne is a master of observation—trained to notice the smallest details in a room, a person, or a crime scene. but when it comes to you, this skill becomes more of a curse than a blessing. his crush transforms his usual precision into something downright awkward as he hyper-focuses on the tiniest parts of your life.

it starts innocently enough. you’ll be in the middle of a casual conversation when bruce interrupts, his deep voice breaking through your train of thought.

“you’ve switched your coffee order recently,” he says matter-of-factly, his piercing blue eyes locking on yours.

you blink, momentarily confused. “uh, yeah. i wanted to try something different.”

“it’s good,” he replies, his tone completely serious, as if your new preference for caramel flavored coffee over vanilla is a critical observation.

sometimes his comments catch you so off guard that you don’t even know how to respond. like the time you came into the room wearing a pair of old sneakers. bruce, who was leaning against the kitchen counter sipping his coffee, glanced down and said, “those laces are frayed. you should replace them.”

you laughed nervously, unsure if he was joking. “uh, thanks for the tip?”

but bruce wasn’t joking. “i’ll send alfred to pick up new ones. you don’t want them snapping mid-step.”

he tries to play it cool, he really does, but his constant streak of seemingly random observations only makes his feelings more obvious. one afternoon, you find him glancing at your notebook while you jot something down. without even looking at you, he says, “you press harder with the pen when you’re tired. your handwriting’s smaller today.”

you set your pen down, giving him a skeptical look. “do you . . . keep track of my handwriting, bruce?”

his face doesn’t change, though you swear his ears flush the faintest shade of pink. “no,” he says smoothly, taking a sip of his coffee. “it’s just. . . noticeable.”

it’s the way he says it—quiet and genuine—that sends your heart fluttering. he doesn’t realize how much he’s revealing, but his small, awkward comments and laser focus on the details of your life make it abundantly clear.

the funny thing is, you’re not the only one noticing. alfred, who’s known bruce wayne longer than anyone, often raises an eyebrow or hides a knowing smirk whenever bruce starts one of his “random” observations.

( “perhaps master wayne should focus on his own handwriting.” bruce glares at alfred, but his lack of a comment only makes the butler’s smirk grow wider. )

finds excuses to be helpful

bruce’s wealth is something he wields with the subtlety of a battering ram when he’s crushing on someone. his intentions are good—he genuinely wants to help—but it often comes off as over-the-top or hilariously unnecessary. for someone as logical and composed as the bat, using his money to make your life easier feels like a no-brainer, but he doesn’t realize just how obvious it makes his feelings.

it starts small at first. you might casually mention needing to replace something—your laptop is acting up or your phone is outdated. the next day, without fail, a box will mysteriously appear at your doorstep. inside, you’ll find not just a replacement but the absolute best version of the device, meticulously selected and clearly expensive.

“bruce,” you say, holding up the latest model of a WE laptop you can’t imagine ever affording on your own. “did you do this?”

he looks up from his work, his expression calm and unbothered. “it’s practical,” he says, as if that’s a reasonable excuse for gifting you a piece of technology worth more than your rent. “your old one was slow. it’s inefficient to struggle with outdated equipment.”

when you try to protest, he waves it off, as though spending thousands of dollars on you is no more different than buying a cup of coffee.

but it doesn’t stop there. one morning, you’re sitting in the kitchen with him, absently complaining about how your car keeps breaking down. it’s an offhanded comment, something you don’t think twice about, but bruce takes it as a challenge. by the time you’ve finished your coffee, he’s already pulled out his phone to make arrangements.

“wait,” you interrupt him, narrowing your eyes as you catch him murmuring something to alfred over the phone. “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” he replies too quickly, but later that day, you’re startled to find a sleek new car parked outside your home, the keys and a handwritten note from the butler sitting on your counter.

“bruce!” you exclaim, storming into the study to confront him.

he doesn’t even look up from his computer. “your old car was unreliable. this one is safer.”

“that’s not the point!”

“it’s just a car,” he says with a small shrug, though there’s a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

despite his attitude, it’s clear he’s putting an incredible amount of thought into everything he does for you. his gestures are less about showing off his wealth and more about making sure you never have to struggle, even in the smallest ways. because to him, it’s just logical—he has the resources, so why wouldn’t he use them to make your life easier?

DICK GRAYSON

finds excuses to touch you

for someone as physically expressive as dick grayson, touch comes as naturally as breathing—but when he’s crushing on you, it’s a whole new level. he’s not even aware of how much he does it at first, but the moments start to add up. it’s little things at first: the way he always seems to find a reason to brush his hand against yours, the casual way his shoulder bumps into you when you’re walking side by side, or the way he’ll lean close when he’s explaining something, his hand ghosting over yours as he gestures.

but then, it becomes less about the accidental and more about the intentional. when you’re sitting on the couch together, he’ll sling an arm over the back of it, his fingers close enough to brush against your shoulder. he’ll offer his hand when you’re stepping out of a car or climbing over something, even if you don’t need it, the contact lingers just a second longer than necessary.

“careful,” he’ll say, his voice soft and teasing, even though the step you’re taking isn’t remotely precarious.

“you know i can walk, right?”

he grins, squeezing your hand briefly before letting it go. “just being chivalrous.”

and then, there are the moments when he gets so wrapped up in the conversation or your presence that he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. like the time you were sitting together, and he absentmindedly started playing with the hem of your sleeve. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he looked down, startled, his ears turning pink as he quickly let go.

“sorry,” he mumbled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “didn’t realize i was doing that.”

but the blush on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know.

for dick, touch is a way of expressing what words sometimes fail to say. every hand on your shoulder, every playful nudge, and every lingering hug is his way of saying, i like being near you. i like you. even if he hasn’t quite found the courage to say it out loud, his actions make it impossible to miss.

teases you relentlessly (but gets flustered when you tease him back)

teasing is how dick shows affection, how he keeps things light, and, more than anything, how he tries to get your attention. when he’s crushing on you, though, his teasing takes on a new level. every little thing you do seems to give him material to poke fun at, not in a mean way, but in a way that makes it clear he’s paying attention to everything about you.

if you trip over a word while talking, he’ll immediately smirk. “careful there, shakespeare,” he’ll quip. “do we need to enroll you in a public speaking class?” or if you drop something, he’s ready with a dramatic gasp. “wow, butterfingers, do you need me to carry everything for you? i could be your personal assistant, but i charge by the hour.”

it’s playful, yes, but it’s also consistent. he’s always looking for ways to make you laugh, even if it’s at your own expense. like the time you were struggling to open a stubborn jar of jam, and he swooped in, popping the lid off with ease.

“guess i’m just the stronger one here,” he said, flexing his biceps with an exaggerated grin. “it’s okay; not everyone can have these guns.”

but if you so much as raise an eyebrow or fire back with your own jab, the tables turn in an instant. one day, after he’d spent a full five minutes teasing you about your choice of coffee ( “a triple-shot vanilla latte with almond milk? fancy. are you sure you don’t need a royal escort to carry it for you?” ), you finally snapped back.

“oh, and i suppose you’re the coffee expert, mr. regular black coffee? real creative. i bet the baristas have your order memorized.”

the grin on his face faltered for a split second, his eyes widening just slightly. then came the blush—the faint pink hue creeping up his cheeks as he tried to recover, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“hey, black coffee is . . . classic,” he mumbled, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

and that’s the thing about dick grayson: as much as he loves dishing it out, he can’t always handle it when it’s directed at him. the moment you tease him back, especially if it’s about something he’s sensitive about (like his perfectly styled hair or his need to one-up everyone), he turns into an awkward, flustered mess.

“you spend how long on your hair every morning?” you asked him once, teasingly ruffling his carefully combed locks after he made fun of the mismatched socks you were wearing.

he froze, his hand shooting up to fix the damage. “it’s not that long,” he protested, his voice defensive but light.

“oh, come on! i bet you use at least three different products. don’t tell me you don’t have a favorite brand of gel.”

his cheeks flushed crimson as he stammered, “i—you know, it’s just . . . maintenance! can’t all of us roll out of bed looking flawless, okay?”

you laughed, and he groaned, muttering something under his breath about how you were “way too good at this.”

JASON TODD

acts nonchalant but is always nearby

jason todd is many things—brash, sarcastic, sometimes even reckless—but when it comes to feelings he doesn’t fully understand, he defaults to keeping his distance . . . or at least pretending he’s keeping his distance. the truth is, when he’s crushing on you, he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame, always finding an excuse to be wherever you are without making it obvious. or so he thinks.

take your quiet sunday afternoons, for instance. maybe you’ve settled on the couch with a book, enjoying the rare peace. jason walks in, all nonchalant, like he’s just passing through. he glances at you—just a quick flick of his eyes, like he’s making sure you’re still there—and then he settles in the chair across from you, a spot he never uses otherwise.

“what are you doing?” you ask, watching as he pulls out a book of his own, the same one he’s been pretending to read for weeks.

he doesn’t even look up. “reading.”

you roll your eyes but say nothing, knowing full well he’s barely getting through a page. you can feel his gaze on you every few minutes, like he’s trying to memorize the way your brow furrows in concentration or how you chew on the corner of your lip when you’re focused. and if you catch him? he quickly snaps his attention back to his book, pretending obliviousness.

“didn’t know you liked this spot so much,” you tease, gesturing to the chair.

a smirk plays on the edge of his lips, though there’s a flicker of defensiveness in his eyes. “what, i can’t sit here now? thought it was a free country.”

it’s always like that—his attempts to mask how much he cares come with a side of sarcasm. but the truth slips through in the little details. like how he never actually leaves the room until you do. or how, even when you’re sitting in silence, he finds a reason to linger. maybe he’s scrolling through his phone, flipping through a magazine, or staring at the ceiling like he’s deep in thought. but really, he’s just soaking in your presence.

and then there are the times when he doesn’t even bother pretending. like when you’re sitting in the kitchen, finishing up some work, and he wordlessly sits down across from you, arms crossed and chin propped in his hand.

“what?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“nothing,” he replies, though the slight curve of his lips gives him away.

it’s not that jason is afraid to admit he likes you ( although there is a possibility he is but we don’t talk about that )—it’s just that he doesn’t know how. so instead, he hovers. he sticks close enough to feel like he’s part of your world but not so close that he risks giving himself away. so while he might act nonchalant, the truth is, he’s anything but. every glance, every lingering moment, every excuse to be near you is jason’s way of saying he cares—he just hasn’t found the words yet.

fixes things you didn’t even know were broken

jason’s way of showing he cares is a little unconventional, but it’s always in the small, unspoken ways. he’s the type to notice things that no one else would—things that have been lingering for ages in the background of your life, just waiting for someone to fix them. but because it’s jason, he’ll never bring it up. he’ll just do it, no questions asked, and then act like it never happened.

it starts with the little things. your chair in the living room? it’s been squeaking for months now, but it’s not something you’ve gotten around to fixing. it’s one of those annoyances you’ve learned to ignore, a piece of background noise that doesn’t really bother you enough to take action.

until one day, it suddenly stops.

you sit down in the chair, and for the first time in ages, it’s silent. your eyes narrow. you didn’t fix this—so who did?

“jason?” you ask, glancing toward him as he lounges on the couch, pretending to be deep in whatever he’s doing.

he doesn’t even look up. “what?”

“the chair. it’s. . . quiet now.”

he pauses for just a moment, but it’s enough to catch the shift in his demeanor. he shrugs, barely concealing the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “must’ve gotten lucky. or maybe it fixed itself.”

you know it didn’t. but before you can press him on it, he’s already back to whatever he was doing, like the whole thing is no big deal. it’s almost as if he’s trying to play it off, hoping you won’t notice that he’s been quietly fixing things in your life, one at a time.

the next thing happens a few days later. you walk into the kitchen, only to find that the light above the sink, the one that flickers every time you try to use it, is now working. perfectly.

you stop, standing in the doorway and just staring at it. there’s no way you fixed it. and it certainly wasn’t broken enough to need replacing. so once again, you turn your gaze to jason, who’s now sitting at the kitchen table, eating a snack and acting entirely uninterested in your investigation.

“jason, did you—?”

“no,” he interrupts and continues watching the video essay he turns on every time he eats.

“uh-huh,” you say, narrowing your eyes, walking toward the light and testing the switch again just to make sure you’re not imagining things. it stays steady, glowing without hesitation.

he’ll never say it out loud, but each fix—each thoughtful act—speaks louder than any words could. the broken things don’t matter, because jason is here, fixing them in his own way, piece by piece.

TIM DRAKE

gets shy when you’re too close

tim drake is usually the picture of composure. he’s calm, collected, and can handle himself in just about any situation, but when you’re too close, all that confidence seems to slip away. it starts small. you’re sitting beside him, maybe sharing a space while working on something, and without thinking, you slide just a little bit closer to him. maybe your arm brushes against his, or your knee nudges his under the table.

it’s enough to throw him off, just for a second. his heart rate picks up slightly, and he tries to hide it behind the screen of his laptop, pretending to focus harder than he really is. but he knows, deep down, that he’s hyperaware of you now—of the way you’re sitting, of the way your presence seems to fill the space between the two of you.

his eyes flicker toward you, but quickly dart away, like he’s afraid you caught him staring. it’s an involuntary reaction, the nervous little shift in his posture as he tries to seem as casual as possible. he clears his throat, his voice slightly quieter than usual. “uh, sorry, was just—just making sure the laptop was charging.”

it’s obvious to you that he’s not really talking about the laptop. he’s trying to act like it’s no big deal, but every time you’re too close to him, tim’s body betrays him. the way his leg shifts a little away from yours under the table, or how he tries to subtly angle his body so there’s just a little more space between you and him, even if he doesn’t want there to be.

you might not notice the subtle movements, but tim does. and every time you get close to him, whether it’s by accident or on purpose, he feels a flutter of nerves that he can’t quite explain. it’s not that he doesn’t want you near him—far from it—but the proximity messes with him in ways he doesn’t understand. his thoughts get jumbled, and his usual calmness slips, replaced by the flustered feeling he’s not used to.

if you ever catch him looking at you, his gaze quickly drops, and a soft blush creeps up his neck. “i—i didn’t mean to—uh, just making sure you’re not too cramped.” he mutters, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his laptop, anything to distract himself from the fact that he’s suddenly very aware of you being so close.

sometimes, when you get too near, tim will just freeze for a moment. it’s like his body can’t process the closeness, and the little awkward silence stretches between you two. it’s not uncomfortable—far from it—but it’s a vulnerable thing for tim, this closeness he doesn’t know how to handle.

but if you keep talking, or even just touch his arm gently when you lean over to look at something, tim’s composure slips even more. he shifts in his seat, trying to act like he’s calm, but his hand might twitch toward yours for just a second before he pulls it away like he’s afraid you’ll notice how he’s reacting.

follows you around during patrol

it’s late at night, the moon casting faint silver light across the streets, and the only sounds are the hum of city life and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. you’re out on a walk, maybe trying to clear your head or just enjoy the quiet, unaware that someone is watching you from the shadows. tim, clad in his suit, has been tailing you for a while now. it’s not that he’s trying to be creepy or intrusive, but rather, he’s just . . . concerned.

tim is the kind of person who can’t turn off his instincts, and tonight, for whatever reason, they’re telling him to stay close. he’s perched high above you on a rooftop, watching you walk along the street below, trying to remain unseen. his red robin suit blends into the darkness of the night, the shadows making him nearly invisible to anyone who might be looking.

he’s not sure why he’s doing it—it’s not like you’ve asked him to keep an eye on you—but there’s something about the quiet stillness of the night that has him on edge. maybe it’s because you’ve been a little distant lately, or maybe he’s just worried something might happen to you in the dark. either way, he’s got his eyes on you, and he won’t stop until you’re safely back where you belong.

he’s quick, agile, moving like a shadow himself. you might hear a faint creak of a fire escape ladder or the flurry of footsteps just out of your line of sight, but when you look, there’s nothing there—just the empty street, the soft glow of streetlights, and the ever-present hum of the city.

it’s when you stop for a moment, distracted by something—maybe you’re checking your phone or admiring a nearby storefront—that he’s closest. in that moment, tim takes a chance, moving closer to you, just a few feet away in the darkened alley. he’s not trying to startle you, but there’s something in his gut that tells him he can’t let you out of his sight, especially when it’s this late, and the streets feel a little emptier than usual.

he’ll hover just out of view, giving you space but never quite leaving you alone. if you keep walking, he follows, keeping his distance but staying close enough to ensure you’re safe. when you stop at a crosswalk or glance around, he’s already a few rooftops away, peering down at you from above, making sure you’re not being followed.

the closer you get to home, the more relaxed tim feels, but he never lets his guard down entirely. even when you reach the safety of your doorstep, he lingers just out of sight, making sure you get inside without any issues. he’ll remain in the shadows for a moment longer, watching as you lock the door behind you, ensuring you’re safe before finally letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

only then does he disappear into the night, his heart still racing, his mind replaying the images of your walk. he’ll retreat to his hidden vantage point, slipping into the dark corners of gotham once more, but the small weight of relief that you’re safe settles deep in his chest. even though he doesn’t want to admit it, there’s a part of him that feels content knowing you’re okay—even if you’ll never know how closely he’s watched over you.

UNEXPECTED LOVERBOY

-> in which you overhear your calm and secretive boyfriend gushing over you like there’s no tomorrow (1.1k wc)

Cw) gn!reader, manga characters (no spoilers), sakura still malfunctions when it comes to romance topics

Calling Hayato Suo an enigma would be an understatement.

Not a soul knows what lies under that eye patch. He’s calm, collected, and composed at almost all times, but it was a task of its own to grasp why. It’s impossible to catch him eating anything other than teacakes, and he often replaces his meals with a hot cup of tea. He claims to be on a diet, but every diet needs some protein incorporated into it.

Everything there is to know about Suo can be followed up with the same question: “Why?” and “What?”

However, there was an exception to his mysterious nature: You.

Of course, you didn’t know that. Hell, even Suo failed to notice his quite obvious soft spot for you until now. But as Nirei’s eye glittered with joy as he scribbled new notes onto Suo’s page in his notebook, and Sakura’s pupils shrunk with his cheeks flaunting a new shade of red, everyone knew.

Hayato Suo’s in love.

“(Name’s) a beauty, really. They may be rough around the edges at times, but I’ve never met anyone with a soul like theirs,” he babbled uncharacteristically.

He brought his teacup to his lips with closed eyes, missing the baffled expressions on everyone’s faces. But the moment he opened them, he couldn’t help but quirk a brow. “What’s with the shocked faces?”

Umemiya coughed into his hand graciously. “We’re just a little surprised, that’s all,” he began, too immersed in the conversation to notice you entering Kotoha’s cafe. “It’s not often you ramble like this.”

“I didn’t know Suo could be so open about his feelings,” Nirei exclaimed with a smile. “You must reallyyyy like (Name), huh?” he questioned, holding his pen in one hand and notebook in another as if this were an interview.

Suo’s head tilted. “Of course I do, that’s why I’m dating them.”

“You’ve been rambling on and on about (Name) for almost 10 minutes, it’s gross,” Sakura grumbled with flushed cheeks.

“But we wanna hear more! Keep going,” Nirei added.

Everyone looked at Suo attentively, including you. Somehow, the group failed to hear the bell chime when you entered the cafe. You’re clueless as to what’s going on, but it didn’t take a genius to realize it had something to do with you considering the amount of times your name was thrown around.

“My, if you insist,” Suo chuckled. “But I fear I’ve already said it all, unless I forgot to mention how cute it is when their cheeks puff up when they’re annoyed?”

Sakura held his head in his hands in fear that it’d melt off with how hot his face felt. “No, you didn’t. But we get it! You love (Name)!” he shouted.

“They’re impossible not to love,” Suo commented with his usual calm smile.

“That’s just Sakura’s romance sensor going haywire,” Kiryu teased. “Don’t mind him.”

The split-haired boy sulked in his seat, trying to dismiss the heat he felt on his face. “You’re all so…”

His voice trailed off, catching a glimpse of your frame standing behind Suo.

“Su-“

“Trust me, if you were in my shoes you’d be doing the same thing. (Name’s) one of a kind, not to mention beautiful. I can’t imagine a life without them, honestly.” The brunette went on, unbeknownst of your looming presence behind him. “Anyone can fall in love if their heart is stolen.”

“Someone like Suo being so head over heels in love… it must feel like a fairytale for (Name),” Umemiya chimed.

“Oh trust me, it does.”

Everyone’s heads turned to face you, except Sakura, who had noticed you seconds prior.

“(Name)?!”

“I didn’t know I could be such a fun subject of conversation, Hayato.” you teased, hands resting on your boyfriend’s shoulders as you leaned down to his ear.

He gulped, hiding his flustered heart through his relaxed exterior.

“We were just talking about you!” Nirei said happily. “Is it true? That Suo never lets you hold doors open, and holds them open for you? Or that he gave you his umbrella when it was pouring rain because he’d rather get soaked than risk you getting sick?” Oh! What about-“

The boy in question sat in silence, allowing Nirei to ask his heart away to confirm that this wasn’t one of his absurd lies.

You nodded at the blonde. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Except he technically kept the umbrella- he just held it over me so my hands wouldn’t get cold,” you corrected, recalling the awful weather of that day.

“What a romantic~” Tsubaki swooned.

“I try my best,” Suo smiled shyly.

“Suo never talks about his life! This is the most he’s ever told us, (Name)! Does he talk to you about his personal life?” Nirei inquired politely, trying not to make you feel pressured into answering.

You thought for a moment. For one, you felt honored that Suo didn’t wanna keep your relationship a secret like the rest of his life. But the blonde’s question made you realize something yourself- you really didn’t know much about your boyfriend’s personal life.

“Well… what can I say? He’s a mystery to everyone, including me.” you replied unsurely, glancing at Suo from the corner of your eye.

“Interesting…”

Nirei wrote something down in his notebook, and you didn’t bother looking. Instead, you held eye contact with Suo. He didn’t have to speak for you to know what he was thinking.

He wasn’t hiding anything from you. He just didn’t like talking about his past, and you understood.

“My love, you know more about me than anyone else in this room,” he stood after finishing the contents of his teacup. “After all, you were the one who told me to take baby steps, correct?”

You vaguely recalled those words. It was weeks ago, but he felt guilty for not telling you or anyone else about his history. In response, you told him to take as long as he needed, and baby steps were always the first steps.

“I did,” you affirmed. Your voice was soft, but it didn’t hide your intentions of making his heart pound a little harder. “But I didn’t think I'd catch you gushing over me like you’ve lost your composure~”

Suo almost broke, and you laughed.

“Woah, is Suo blushing?”

“Who could blame the guy? It’s the most open he’s been with us,” Hiragi commented with truth.

Kotoha giggled from behind the counter. “Not to mention how close (Name) is to him right now, it might be too much for the poor boy to handle.”

The red in Suo’s cheeks slowly faded, and he let out a small sigh. “I’ll see you all later, we’re gonna get going now,” he waved.

The two of you walked out hand in hand, and everyone else was left either baffled, confused, or unphased. Unless it was Sakura, who was somehow all three.

Little did you know, Nirei left a small comment on the corner of Suo’s page in his notebook.

‘Quite the loverboy.’

© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.

WINDBREAKER (SATORU NII) DRABBLE

f!reader ; this was supposed to be like two paragraphs of a scenario, not a while drabble. but i love hayato suo and all of windbreaker, so...

hayato suo is the type to walk into furin or kotoha's cafe littered in lipstick stains on his face, but he acts like it's nothing. sakura's face is the color of one, and nirei mirrors it, though they both stare intently at him.

the only one to speak up is kotoha and she's like, "you've got a little...something, on your face. specifically, lipstick."

and suo will be like, "oh! do i?" his signature bright ass smile is on his face as he acts like: (1) he didn't ask you to do it and (2) that he was completely unaware of the bright red lipstick pressed to his lips, cheeks, and neck. "ah~i guess my pretty girl got carried away."

"p-pretty girl?" nirei stumbles.

hayato would rest his face on his propped up arm. "mhm, my girlfriend silly!"

"GIRLFRIEND?!"

"a girlfriend, huh?"

"YOU, HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?!?"

"of course, i, have a girlfriend sakura-san," he has a smile on his face, his eyes shut and mouth curled tightly upwards, "what is that supposed to mean, hm?"

by no means is suo ugly, but his personality is not something any of the furin boys thought would be dateable. sakura turns away, not opening his mouth anymore, just sitting across from suo with blush etched on his face.

the bell to the cafe rings and the three boys sitting at the table look at the door. "speaking of girlfriend..." hayato whispers.

kotoha, nirei, and sakura look to see you, who has got to be the prettiest girl in town. the boys jaws are wide open and hayato only laughs as he stands up to greet you. "you were being serious?!" sakura says with shock.

hayato frowns, turning to face him. "did you think i was lying?"

"yes."

"kinda."

"sorta."

"hey, that's not very nice!"

patched || kaji ren x gn!reader

✧ i just wanted to write vulnerable kaji okay he deserves some hugs.

✧ content: established relationship, spoilers for kaji's backstory (sorta, it ain't said but it's there between the lines), fluff, minor descriptions of wounds

✧ a/n: i will and shall make every windbre boy soft or vulnerable or both. so have some soft kaji y'all before his official introduction to the anime this week yeehaw- it's also close to 1 am when I'm posting this so if it's rushed towards the end. no it's not.

Hiragi Toma rarely came over to your house.

Instead, you would just be one of the many people he would wave too when out on patrol, just with a deeper friendship - if he's not particularly busy you two would even strike a conversation, just to catch up.

But Hiragi Toma rarely came knocking on your front door.

So when you hear the firm, yet somehow gentle clear knocks on your front door - only to open it up to see Hiragi's bloodied knuckles? You can only answer with a confused glance back and forth between his embarrassed expression and the fist that is still raised up, ready to knock on your door that is very much open.

"... I had to knock him out."

Ah.

"Is he okay?" is the only thing you ask as you turn towards the side to reach for the first aid kit that you have stored next to the front door - quicky grabbing it and handling it to Hiragi while you swiftly put on some shoes.

"Depends on your definition of 'okay" the third year mutters, walking briskly ahead to lead the way once you've locked the door. "No broken bones?"

"Then yeah, he's fine." Hiragi answers, guiding you through some alleyways until you get to a semi-open area. In the middle you see Kusumi and Enomoto crowding around you assume is an unconscious Kaji on the ground.

Even without getting close you can already smell the blood surrounding the air - the the pile of passed out delinquents to the side was most likely the main reason.

"Kusumi-kun, Enomoto-kun, thank you for your hard work." you call out, the two vice captains turning towards you whilst you wave at them. And only then do you see their shoulders relax. "I can take it over from here."

The two students scurry quickly away, albeit not too far in case something were to happen when Kaji woke up. A needless worry you would always say to them.

Kaji would never hurt you after all.

So whilst Hiragi and the second year vice captains clean up the area, you're busy propping Kajis head on top of your lap, brushing aside his bloodied bangs to wipe away the dried blood on his face with a cloth.

It doesn't take long before Kaji stirs awake from your actions. It starts with a jolt of his fingers, followed by his eyes squeezing even tighter together. But it's only when you dab a cotton ball with disinfectant at an open wound that his eyes snap open in surprise.

Kaji would've almost headbutted you if you hadn't already cradled both of his cheeks in your hands, the distraught boy letting you tip his head up whilst you bend your own head to make eye contact with him. "Good afternoon sleeping beauty." you whisper, a smile on your face whilst you tighten the hold you have on his face, thumb gently stroking his cheek while he gasps for air. "How are you feeling?"

Kaji doesn't answer, he merely raises his hands to grab onto your wrists - his hold on you tightening which makes you unable to continue your ministrations of cleaning his wounds. His eyes dart back and forth questioningly, probably wondering how you ended up here although he's unable to directly ask you seeing that he's still heaving for air.

"Hiragi-san came to get me. Figured that it would help you calm down faster." you answer, wriggling your fingers in one hand to make him loosen his hold before wrapping your own fingers gently around his own wrist to press his trembling palm against your cheek. You let him stay like that for a moment whilst you keep an eye on his expression with a smile. It's only when you feel his thumb slightly brush against your cheek that you turn your head to press your lips against his palm, your eyes still trained on Kaji's own hazy ones.

"... The others?" Kaji finally whispers whilst letting his arm fall limp back down to the ground. A silent sign that you can continue tending to his wounds. "Helping Hiragi-san, quite a few of them managed to run back here, with you chasing them and all." you reply, placing a compress on a particular nasty scratch on his forehead.

"There! We're all done now!" you inform beaming, admiring your own handiwork with a triumphant smile. Kaji, however doesn't move from your lap - attention still at Hiragi and his vice captains that have begun to make small talk with the townspeople wondering what happened.

"So I only made trouble for both you and Hiragi-san again, didn't I." It was a statement rather than a question, perhaps that's why Kaji won't look your way. Too afraid to see what sort of expression you're sporting.

"... Ren," you call out softly, hands once again cradling his cheek to make him face you. There's a slight resistance at first, but Kaji soon let's you move his head to face upwards towards your direction again.

Kaji alternates between staring at you and looking slightly to the side to avoid your soft gaze. You can tell he's getting a bit nervous with how the fingers by his side keeps wriggling a bit, almost like he wants to dig them into his hoodie pocket to grab a sucker, anything to avoid saying something that can potentially hurt your feelings.

After all, behind that unbothered facade, lies a fragile boy still afraid of losing the people who had accepted him.

Every part of him.

Even the part he hated himself for.

In the end, he settles on balling them into a fist before taking a deep breath - directing his gaze back to you with furrowed eyebrows. "What-"

Before he can voice out his question, you're already bending down to slot your lips against his. The sudden kiss makes Kaji freeze, mouth slightly agape in surprise. The angle let's him easily smell the slightly sweet fragrance you have on your neck, paired with the smell of freshly dried linen.

A sweet peach scent, a stark contrast to the the rusty smell of blood that's been penetrating his senses since he woke up.

When you pull apart, it's only to give him a reassuring smile again before pressing your lips against his forehead, "You know I don't like it when you say you're being a bother." you gently remind. "If you were, I wouldn't be here now, would I?" you say.

Kaji doesn't say anything, merely staring at up at you with a glazed look. It takes a few seconds before he abruptly sits up straight and turns around to face you. The action making you jump in surprise, but you can barely move before his arms are wrapped around your shoulders with his face snuggled against your neck.

"... You smell good." He finally says, snuggling closer to inhale the fragrance left on your skin. "I know. It's your favorite after all." You answer with a laugh, wrapping your own arms around his waist whilst settling your own head against his shoulder.

And you'll stay there in his arms, for however long it takes for Kaji to pick himself up again.

⸻ ɞ "for you and only you"

them buying gifts for you ﹒﹒wind breaker boys ♡

꒷꒦ pairings: hajime umemiya, jo togame, ren kaji, akihiko nirei, hayato suo, haruka sakura, toma hiragi, kyotaro sugishita x gn. reader (separate)

HAJIME UMEMIYA | 梅宮 一 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

A man who goes all out for occasions such as this, but not with the typical pricey gifts and extravagant items many might initially suggest. Instead, UMEMIYA chooses something somewhat whimsical, to the surprise of everyone and, at the same time, no one.

He dives headfirst into his garden, tending to plants with the same care and attention most people reserve for rare jewels. Why? Because in his eyes, nothing says "I love you" quite like a potted fern or a blooming orchid that he’s nurtured from a seedling and shoved into your arms. On various occasions when you would visit Furin, you would, to your surprise, unexpectedly catch your boyfriend with dirt under his nails and a triumphant grin on his face, presenting you with a beautifully grown plant.

"I grew this just for you!" he declares, utterly beaming with pride and happiness. "Don't you like it?!"

You laughed. Of course you did. It's why you fell in love with him, after all. It was like having a child in a teenage guy’s body. Of course, Umemiya loves to spoil you in other ways, too. If you were to ask him for anything, you would get it within a day. You ask, and you shall receive. He's all about giving you little thoughtful gifts on the daily and showering you with attention—his clinginess almost feels like a gift in itself, if you could call that so.

Still, he understands that material items and grand gestures only go so far. A cliche, yes, but regardless, Umemiya's gifts are not just plants—it's the love he pours into every small, thoughtful act. When he hands you a plant, it's not just a simple gift. It's a piece of his heart, cultivated and grown with you in mind. Some might say he’s overdoing it when he shows up with yet another rare flower or exotic herb, all the while practically suffocating you physically with all his affection as the others, like Hiragi, watch with either deadpan faces or in true horror like Nirei, the poor guy can never catch a break. Perhaps he is, but in Umemiya's eyes, showing his true love is never overdoing it. Never to you.

JO TOGAME | 十亀 条 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Get yourself someone like TOGAME who pays attention to the little things. Not to say that the others don’t, but there’s just something about Togame that makes you feel truly seen at all times, even if he does initially seem like his mind is off in another dimension. At first glance, Togame might initally appear aloof, his eyes blank and glazed over as if he's contemplating the philosophy of life or trying to recall if he left the stove on when he left home that day. 

He’s got that spaced-out look, constantly unfocused and seemingly lost in his own world. But don’t let that fool you—despite that continually distracted look of his, lies a man who notices and knows everything about you. Never in a creepy way, of course. Because beneath that absent-minded exterior is a man who catches all the little details. Togame remembers your offhand comments, the fleeting glances you cast at little things that catch your eye, and even the snacks you like to munch on during your and his late-night at-home dates together. It’s almost comedic how he can be so scatterbrained one moment and then present you with a gift that’s so spot-on it feels like he read your mind.

It’s impressive and a little baffling to see just how attentive he is. He’ll hand you a beautifully wrapped present and, with a nonchalant shrug, say, “I noticed you were eyeing this the other day.” Meanwhile, you’re left wondering when he even managed to notice, considering he now seemed wholly engrossed in staring at a cloud—but in reality, all he looks at is you and only you.

REN KAJI | 梶蓮 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

At first, KAJI may appear to know what he's doing, giving off an air of confidence and exuding an aura so convincing that even his own friends believe he's got everything under control and that Kaji had the perfect gift planned out for you. But, oh, if only they knew. Because internally, it is anything but controlled. Kaji is a frantic mess from head to toe and is just barely holding it together. For Christ's sake, Nirei one time even found the second year furiously muttering and cursing out a cluster of innocent plants on the school field, seemingly at being useless sacks of leaves.

Nirei would never understand quite why that happened, nor did he bother to ask, in fear of his potential demise by doing so...

Regardless, Kaji meticulously plans, second-guesses himself, and agonizes over every decision, to the point where multiple times, he would take off his headphones in the hopes of finding total concentration and that maybe, just maybe, an idea would hit him. Spoiler, it doesn't. It was a strategy that only ended in disaster. The sight is almost comical—Kaji, usually so composed, reduced to a bundle of nerves as he tries to decide if you’d prefer a handmade card or a store-bought one. Eventually, he abandons both the plants and his failed attempts at making a DIY gift of his own, pivoting to something that’s more “him.” 

After all his frantic efforts and internal chaos, he sheepishly presents you with a handmade mixtape, carefully curated with songs that remind him of you and your time together. Each track is selected with care, and when he finally presents it, his nerves are palpable. Any kind of reaction that wasn't disgust, he would be happy with. Unbeknownst to even himself. However, your first reaction to receiving it was to immediately embrace him. It's a gift that speaks volumes, even if he struggles to express it in words. A blend of his love for music and his love for you. Because beneath his aloof exterior, and despite the chaos behind the scenes, lies a heart that beats just for you and you alone.

AKIHIKO NIREI | 楡井秋彦 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Enter NIREI, the human encyclopedia of your life, with a notebook thicker than a brick and more detailed than your school textbooks. Nirei probably has anything and everything you've ever said written down in his notebook. His meticulous, borderline frantic nature means he doesn't miss a single detail, capturing every word you utter with precision, whether you genuinely meant it or not. Seriously, the guy probably has a section dedicated to your favourite foods alone. 

He’s constantly with a notebook in hand, furiously scribbling down every passing comment, no matter how trivial. To him, it's better to be safe than sorry—after all, he can’t afford to disappoint you, not when he's committed to being your personal mind reader, one way or another. In fact, it would come to the surprise of no one if Nirei had an entire 500-page notebook dedicated solely to you, complete with tabs, colour-coded highlights, and footnotes.

And those who do find out about this "notebook" and read through even just the first page are utterly deadpan at just how smitten Nirei was for you. The hearts in his eyes practically say it all. His dedication to cataloguing your every whim and fancy might seem a tad extreme to the common folk, but to Nirei, it's all in the name of ensuring your happiness. And when he does present you with a gift, it feels almost magical, as if he's read your mind. Sure, it’s a bit unnerving to know that he probably knows your cafe order better than you do, but hey, at least you’ll never have to worry about forgetting your preferences. It's more than just a gesture, his careful attention to detail makes every gift a meaningful token of his affection. With Nirei by your side, it's like having your very own walking, talking wishlist. Even if Nirei isn't strong physically—he can't fight like everybody else in Furin—his meticulous planning and thoughtfulness show just how far he's willing to go in order to make you happy.

HAYATO SUO | 蘇枋 隼飛  ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Now, let’s talk about SUO, Furin's resident memory master. Unlike Nirei, who hoards notebooks like a squirrel hoards acorns, Suo relies solely on the immense storage capacity of his brain to keep track of every single detail about you, retaining it all in his memory alone.

His mind is like a steel trap, capturing every little detail about you, his significant other. He can effortlessly recall every conversation, shared moment, and quirky little habit you have and stores it in his memory, all the while keeping it secret behind that enigmatic smile of his. He's a mysterious man, even to you, but you can always tell his intentions are pure, no matter how initially suspicious he may be.

Some might call it borderline telepathic, but to Suo, it’s all just part of being deeply devoted to you in his own way. When he comes to you with a perfectly timed gift, it’s not because he’s some kind of mind reader (although it sometimes does feel that way). It’s simply because you’re the most important thing in his world, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy, even if it means sacrificing a little extra brain space for the cause—as if that’s even troubling to him. Gifts from Suo are always a surprise, even to you. He hides things incredibly well without you knowing a thing. But it's not without a touch of mischief, considering all the pranks and teases he often likes to pull. You frequently find yourself asking him, "How did you even know I wanted this?" only for him to aloofly reply with a cryptic smile or an offhanded comment.

"Oh wow, Hayato, how did you know I wanted this?!"

"Oh, I just happened to notice when I saw how your face lit up at the sight of it the other day."

"I- wha- …you got it from just noticing my reactions?"

"Of course! Who would I be if I didn't notice such a thing from my significant other?"

"A stalker..."

"Now now, don't be like that!"

HARUKA SAKURA | 桜 遥 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Anyone and everyone with ears that day who are unlucky enough to cross paths with SAKURA that day would no longer be the same after getting a panicked earful from his guy. Just imagine him, frantically running around like a chicken with its head cut off, who turns gift-giving into a mission worthy of a military operation, and that is Sakura Haruka. 

He’s the guy who interrogates his friends about what to get you, practically hosting a roundtable discussion as he frantically brainstorms the perfect gift. Picture him pacing back and forth, sweating bullets, and badgering everyone in sight for advice. He consults everyone he knows, hoping to find some idea of the ideal present that will light up the smile on your face—one that he has grown to love and cherish. Sakura's desperation knows no bounds; he's calling up acquaintances he hasn’t even bothered to speak to until now, just to get their input on this seemingly not-important dilemma. But once the dusk settles and he's had a moment to gather his thoughts, Sakura is the one to make the final call. 

And in the end, he gets you a gift that is perfect and oh-so-thoughtful. The effort he puts into his choice shows just how much he cherishes you in his life and will continue to do so. It's not just a gift; it's a heartfelt expression of his love, chosen all with the intention of making you smile. Though he will never admit to you how long it actually took for him to get that singular gift for you. Not even on his grave.

TOMA HIRAGI | 柊登馬  ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Poor HIRAGI, who, at first, dives headfirst into the idea of gift-giving with all the enthusiasm in the world. He's got that determined look in his eyes—a look enough to scare off any middle-schooler within a mile—ready to craft the perfect present for you. Fast forward a few hours, and he’s surrounded by a chaotic mess of craft supplies, looking at his creation with dawning horror. Realization hits him like a pound of bricks. The gift is utter garbage, something you’d never like... Hiragi first tries to salvage it, maybe gluing on a few more sparkles or attaching a heartfelt note, but deep down, he knows it’s a lost cause.

His mind goes into overdrive, perhaps popping more than a few nerve pills into his mouth as he hurriedly rethinks his plan, determined to make things right. In a moment of panic, Hiragi scrambles to come up with something better. His mind races, and he quickly pivots to Plan B. He ditches the failed craft project and decides to give you something far more meaningful—a date, an entire day planned around your favourite activities.

From a breakfast at your favourite cafe to a scenic walk in the park with an amazing view of the sunset, followed by a movie marathon of your beloved films, this time, he is confident. Hiragi pours his heart into creating an experience rather than a physical gift. It's a corny move, sure, but his dedication to making you happy shines through.  Your happiness is the true present Hiragi strives to provide and cherish with all his heart. Ultimately, it's not the material items that matter but the love and effort he puts into spending time with you. His actions speak louder than any physical gift ever could.

KYOTARO SUGISHITA | 杉下京太郎  ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

To him, this was something not to be taken lightly. Thus, his plan was put into motion. SUGISHITA's quest to ensure perfection involves quiet observation that borders on creepy, with intense staring sessions that would make even the most seasoned blush just to get the perfect gift for you. You can practically feel his eyes boring into you as he notes your likes and dislikes, all while maintaining an innocent facade—at least, in his eyes. From your perspective, you beg to differ, but you let him have his moment. Through this, Sugishita tries to gather intel on your favourite foods, movies, and even the type of socks you prefer. His dedication to the art of gift-giving is both impressive and slightly unnerving, but hey, it’s all in the name of love, right?

And when he finally presents you with a gift, it's like he's unveiling some kind of masterpiece he's been working on for months. And in a way, he has been. Even when you know what he has been doing all this time, your heart still melts. Tears fall, and all Sugishita does is frantically comfort you in the best way he knows how—which isn’t saying much, but hey, he's trying his best. He may not wear his heart on his sleeve, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. His methods might be a tad unconventional, but there's no denying the thought and effort he puts into making you happy. After all, who needs words when you have Sugishita's silent but effective gestures of love? His silence all but screams his genuine heart for you. Because each time he's with you, he feels comfortable in your presence, no matter what, without ever needing to say a word.

EXTRAS

CHOJI TOMIYAMA | 兎耳山 丁子 ─ ✦ . ⁺ ♡

Hmmm, his gift for you?

It's him, of course! 

…Don’t give him that look. 

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

🍊clementines.

synopsis. kiryu’s hiding something and suo knows what.

contains. fluff. all characters are 19. for some reason they’re all line cooks?? don’t ask.

note. this blog is 18+. mdni. my crush on him is getting real bad if im out here writing fluff for this idiot. UGH!

the tips of kiryu’s fingers smell of clementines in the morning.

it’s odd. unusual. suo points out that lately his blunt cut manicured fingernails are tinged in yellowed hues and all kiryu does in response is smile. sakura’s brows furrow. nirei’s mind wanders. however, the thought is fleeting, so as quickly as it comes, it leaves to make temporary space for another.

suo never forgets.

he notices more as the days trough on. some mornings kiryu comes to work with a sheen over his rosy mouth, haphazardly smudged away but still sparkling, dots of glitter pressed over the delicate folds of skin. other days it’s his hair that’s tousled, rumpled from more than just the wind, kiryu’s eyes blindingly bright though he retains his smooth demeanor.

it’s not until suo peeks bruise from beneath kiryu’s collar that the peculiarities are brought up again.

“have you been paying attention to me this entire time, suo?” kiryu’s tone is colored amused. suo, be he a weaker man would’ve blushed, but instead he keeps a charmed smile on his face, pretty brown eyes glimmering in intrigue.

“i’m an observant man.” he decides to say. “and you’re avoiding the question. is that a hickey, kiryu?”

kiryu smiles, licking at his canines. the quartet are sat behind the building of the restaurant on break. kiryu leans back, rosy knuckles dragging over his white apron. adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, pink hair slightly damp as it sticks to the sweat on his face.

“it could be.” he decides to say. the offending bruise in question stretches, peering over the top of his white t-shirt. “what if it is?”

“then my next question would be who gave you that hickey.” suo throws one leg over the other idly. “seems as if you’re keeping something from us.”

“or someone from us.” nirei’s eyes dart about as if he’s searching his mind. “come to think of it, there’s been a lot off about you lately. you smile more, you always leave our hangouts early and you’re always talking to someone in the background when we’re playing games together.”

“uh huh,” kiryu’s smile grows crooked. “have i now?”

sakura’s brows furrow. “you have.” he huffs. “and not to mention that ridiculous perfume you’ve started wearing. it’s so sweet, like pears or peaches or something.”

“you mean my girlfriend’s perfume?”

the three men freeze in their seats. the color drains from sakura’s face immediately, duotoned eyes wide as they stare back at kiryu.

“your…” he blinks.

“girlfriend?” nirei finishes.

kiryu’s smile turns dopey. “yup. my girlfriend.”

sakura colors red in an instant. nirei’s blinking rapidly, stuttering over words he doesn’t know to say.

“what- when- how did you- when did this- wait-“

“you had a girlfriend this entire time and didn’t tell anybody?!”

sakura’s outburst nearly makes kiryu laugh. instead, his eyes just light up the more.

“my bad. i thought you knew.”

suo chuckles, drawing the attention from kiryu to himself. the brunette shakes his head, pinkette tilting his head curiously.

“sakura, he wasn’t exactly trying to hide it either.”

sakura frowns deeply. “so you knew the entire time too?!”

“i had a feeling.” suo hums as he stands. “it was pretty obvious.”

“obvious?” nirei asks.

“i’m curious.” kiryu looks at suo, brows a little furrowed in wonder. “how so?”

suo smiles. “you don’t like clementines, kiryu-chan. yet you always smell like them.”

are you jealous?

synopsis: he gets jealous when he sees you with his friend

character/s: sakura, suo, kiryu

warning/s: none!

sakura: 

sakura was new to emotions, that was pretty much clear to anyone who knows him or has even heard of him. but one thing he was sure of was that he’s very fond of you and he likes being around you. 

when sakura asked you to be his, you were shocked but the bright blush that coated his face was pretty much an indicator that his feelings were genuine. and if people were to ask him, he thinks that he’s doing the best he can as a boyfriend. 

so why the hell were you spending time with suo? there was nothing wrong with hanging out with suo, but why is it always in your free time and why wasn’t he allowed to come?

sakura shouldn’t feel jealous, you’ve never given him a reason to be, and he can’t demand that you stay away from him because suo was the one who convinced sakura to confess to you in the first place, plus you were suo’s close friend before sakura was your boyfriend. 

you and suo don’t even do anything that could spark jealousy but sakura couldn’t help it, okay? he’s trying his best. 

but his best wasn’t good enough for now as he sees you and suo smiling at each other while giving each other a hug. 

“what the hell is going on here?” sakura couldn’t help the tone in his voice. he wasn’t mad, but his emotions were on a haywire.

“oh, haruka!” damn. don’t smile at him like that because he’d forget why he’s feeling conflicted in the first place. 

“hayato and i were just—” “why were you two together and why are you sweaty? what happened?” sakura asked in an accusatory tone, you took a step back, a bit surprised at the tone that your boyfriend was using on you.  

“oh? sakura-kun, are you jealous?” suo cuts you off before you could even respond with an easy smile on his face, succeeding in ticking off your boyfriend. 

“you bastard, do you want to go at it?” sakura asks, raising his sleeves and cracking his neck, looking ready to beat the daylights out of his friend. 

“now, now, sakura-kun, fighting in front of your lover is a big no-no.” suo clicks his tongue playfully as he shakes his head. you can see a vein pop out of your boyfriend’s forehead before he lunges. only to be stopped by you who mimicked suo’s technique. 

“what the fuc—” “i asked suo to train me in self defense.” you said sheepishly, “i didn’t want to keep relying on you when i’m in danger.” you continue. 

“i know you help the town enough so i didn’t want to add to that.” sakura visibly softens as your words sink in. 

“i’ll leave it to the two of you.” suo smiles and nods before he walks away, leaving you and your boyfriend alone. 

“i’m sorry… i should’ve said something.” you said.

sakura’s cheeks explode in a blush as he turns his head away and clicks his tongue. “no, it’s— i mean— damn it!” sakura struggled to find the words to say before he huffs, and tries to meet your eyes. 

“you’re my girlfriend. of course i’m gonna wanna protect you.” now it was your turn to be flustered. “you don’t need to worry about holding your own. i’m here to protect you— and furin!” sakura adds the last bit and you couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle. 

“you should’ve just told me. i would’ve trained you instead of him.” 

“i’ll keep that in mind.” you say before you moved closer and pecked him on the cheek, sakura froze but relaxed after a split second as he felt your soft lips on his face. 

“come on, i’ll treat you to some omurice, consider it a late lunch!” you say, pulling him towards the direction of pothos. 

sakura couldn’t help but soften at your touch, his face still a bright red as he lets you lead him to the direction of the cafe.  

suo:

suo was always level headed, calm, composed and sometimes a bit cheeky, and he always seemed to have a hold on his emotions. everyone and their moms knew that. 

so there weren’t any alarm bells ringing when suo approached you with a smile on his face and his hands behind his back. you smiled once you saw him. 

“hayato, hi!” you beamed and his smile got wider. cute. he thinks as he places a hand on your head affectionately. 

“would you like to accompany me to get coffee after the day?” suo asks, you gave him an apologetic smile before you shook your head. “ah, sorry, nirei and i have plans.” 

ah. yes, nirei, again. 

“hayato, are you okay?” oh. suo didn’t even notice that his hand turned into a fist. 

“of course i am, love.” suo says, “you’ve been hanging out a lot with nirei, is everything okay?” suo asks as calmly as possible, you nod, giving him a small smile but suo can see right through it. 

“yep, peachy! i promise i’ll go on a date with you tomorrow, though.” you reassure him but suo still couldn’t help the frown that appeared on his face but nonetheless, he gives you a small nod before he lets you walk away from him. 

suo sighs before he busies himself with his daily patrol. 

he was halfway through patrolling when he saw you outside a cafe but you weren’t alone, nirei was beside you and he was showing you his notebook. suo couldn’t help it as his usual smile twitched in annoyance at how close you seemed to be. 

so with light footsteps, he headed towards the two of you and made his presence known.

“good afternoon.” if suo wasn’t fixated on the fact that the two of you were closely huddled and reading the notebook, he would’ve let out a chuckle with how quick the two of you jumped away like startled cats. 

“hayato!” “suo-san!” the two of you looked at him almost guiltily and nirei, not wanting any kind of misunderstanding, started explaining at a rapid pace. 

“this isn’t what it looks like! i know it seems like we’re up to no good but i swear it isn’t! (y/n)-chan just wanted to know more about you so she asked to meet up and read through my notes but the information i have is outdated and—” “nirei.” the blonde shuts up after hearing suo cut him off. 

“sakura-kun needs help with painting the walls behind washijo-san’s store.” nirei stood abruptly before he nodded and set off, not before waving at you, leaving his notebook behind.

you sat there with your eyes wide, face warm at getting caught reading info about your boyfriend. 

suo only smiles as he sits in the seat nirei once occupied, “so–” “don’t even start, hayato.” you say, feeling embarrassed. 

suo gives you a reassuring smile. “nothing to be embarrassed about, my love.” suo says as he takes nirei’s notebook and flips to his page, humming in acknowledgement. 

“you could’ve asked me all this, you know that, right?” “you wouldn’t have answered me properly, hayato. don’t even lie.” you huff and suo let out a mirthful chuckle. 

“it’s adorable to see you fall for my words, love.” suo says and you couldn’t help but smack his arm, your face warming up at his teasing. 

“how about this,” suo compromises, “you can ask anything and i’ll answer.” he smiled at the way your head perked up and nodded at his statement. 

“ask away, my love.”

suo still didn’t answer your questions seriously.

kiryu :

“kiryu, you said we’d do something today!” you whine as you sat on his bed, kiryu only hums as his thumbs press on the screen of his phone. “later, baby. i need to beat the boss, this level is so annoying.” kiryu whines back, adjusting his position on the bed. 

you huff, knowing that kiryu wouldn’t be paying attention to you in the next half hour because he was too locked in his game. 

you clicked your tongue, pulling up your phone to see your messages only to end up scrolling through your social media feed out of boredom.

your head perks up once you hear the doorbell to kiryu’s house ring, kiryu hums, not taking his eyes off the phone, “(y/n)-chan can you go get that for me, please?” he pouts and you oblige, finding his expression to be adorable. 

you weren’t expecting taiga to be the one behind the door and it seemed like he wasn’t expecting you to be here either. 

“oh, (y/n), hello! how are ya?” you parrot back the pleasantries, letting him inside and that was when you noticed that he brought his dumbbells to kiryu’s house. 

“what ‘chu got there?” you couldn’t help but be curious, taiga looks at where your eyes were and lets out a chuckle, flexing his arms. 

“i asked kiryu if i could come over and have him help with my workout and he said yes.” that did not sound like kiryu. 

“oh, i didn’t know you two had plans.” “it’s fine (y/n), it was sudden and kiryu agreed for me to come by after classes so here i am!”

“was kiryu playing with his phone when he agreed?” taiga looked confused. “i didn’t notice but now that ‘ya mentioned it, i think he was.” you nod. biting back a sigh. 

kiryu probably had no idea that taiga was here. 

“i’ll go get kiryu for you.” “thanks, (y/n)! ‘ppreciate it!” you trudge to kiryu’s room and see that he hasn’t moved from his spot. 

“did you know you invited taiga here?” kiryu’s eyebrows furrowed at your statement. “eh? tsuge-chan’s here? why?” 

“he said you were gonna help him with his workout.” kiryu pauses his game and you almost wanted to throw his phone across the room because it could’ve been paused?? 

“eh, that sounds so much like a hassle.” kiryu pouts, “and i’m so close to beating this game, can’t he come back tomorrow?”

“no, baby, he’s already here and that would be rude.” kiryu huffs before he smiles at you like he has a brilliant idea. 

“can you help tsuge-chan out for m–“ “no.” “please, (y/n)-chan. i promise i’ll buy you something you really like!” it took a few more convincing from the pink haired male before you finally relented. 

“fine.” kiryu grins at your surrender. “thank you baby, i love chu!” he says out cutely and you almost want to smack him with a pillow. 

you go back to where taiga was expecting kiryu before you give him an apologetic look. “ah, sorry! kiryu is currently busy but i can help you out if you’d like?” taiga looks unsure at first. 

“are ya sure, (y/n)? i don’t wanna push you or anythin’” you force a nod, “yeah, i’m sure.”

— 

when kiryu finishes the game, he isn't even aware that a lot of time has passed. he turns off his phone, raising his arms and moaning out as he stretches the kinks that accumulated from his unmoving position. 

he realizes that taiga must’ve been still in the house as he hears laughter from the living room. he trudges over to where he hears the source of the sound and the doorframe almost broke with the force he exerted as he watches the scene before him. 

you, his lovely girlfriend, was in taiga’s arm as he squats. 

“you’re so strong, taiga! i didn’t know you could do this.” kiryu’s brow twitched with annoyance. 

“‘yer not even heavy, (y/n), don’t worry about it!” taiga says as he squats you again and again. 

“what’s going on here?” kiryu asks, as clipped smile on his face as taiga sets you down 

“ah, kiryu! thanks for lending (y/n) to help out!” kiryu only hums as a response. 

“tsuge-chan, isn't it getting late?” kiryu asks and taiga’s eyes flit towards the wall clock before he gasps out loud. 

“i have to make my pre-dinner protein shake, i forgot! ‘yer such a lifesaver, kiryu!” taiga quickly says his goodbye and runs out the door, his dumbbells doing nothing to hinder his pace. 

you turn back at him, who was now glaring at the door before his green eyes turn to look at you. 

“really?” you asked, arms crossing against your chest. kiryu steps closer to you and his nose scrunches. you smelled too much like taiga, how long was he squatting you.

“tsuge-chan was being too comfy with you.” 

“well, he was being respectful the entire time so there was no problem.” you clarified and kiryu only pouts. 

“plus,” you continued. “i wanted to see if taiga was really strong and the rumors are true!” you gush and kiryu feels his brow twitch with jealousy. 

“he carried me like it was nothing!” the next thing you knew, your usually gentle and graceful boyfriend lifted you into his arms as if you weighed nothing and squatted you thrice. 

“if you wanted to be carried, you should’ve just told me, (y/n)-chan!” kiryu smiles and pecks your cheek. “no need to praise tsuge-chan like that.” 

“mitsuki, are you jealous?” “you’re being ridiculous, (y/n)-chan”

he definitely was.

note/s: i have no idea why kiryu's was so long... i blacked out and it just happened..

FUUUCCKKK PLS THIS IS SO GOOD HE DESERVES SO MUCH 😭😭😭

He Who Hides Behind a Mask.

Scaramouche x F!Reader.

Warnings: Scaramouche is a mess, Reader is honestly a mess too, implied not SFW.  Word count: 6k. 

Note: originally, this story was going to be lot darker (haha), but after the 3.1 cutscene… i decided mr. mouche can have a break just this once. as a treat. please handle him with care. he really needs all of it he can get. anyway here’s my love letter to my fav genshin character. 

i.

You are, without a doubt, the worst human in the world.

If Scaramouche was labeled an eccentric by his peers throughout the centuries, he wonders what that would make you. Whatever conventions you abide by are a complete mystery to him. Perhaps you damaged your head at some point in your life and are now living with the consequences. Or, your head has made it out mostly unscathed, and you really are just this foolish for no good reason. That miserable doctor might say there’s an explanation behind every phenomenon, but the charlatan surely would change his tune if he met you.  

What else could possibly explain why you have the audacity to waltz into his office, entirely unannounced, scuttling about like you owned the place?

… And if that isn’t worse enough, why does he let you?

Keep reading

over and over again

pairing - kaeya alberich x gender neutral reader

word count - 4307

genre - fluff

format - fic

warnings - kissing/skinship, sharing a bed with no sexual implications, kaeya spins reader around in his arms, food mention, semi-nudity (kaeya sleeps shirtless), marriage

summary - there's a first for everything but the butterflies in his stomach will never fade whether you kiss him for the first, second, tenth, or hundredth time

a/n - happy new years everyone! WOOO FIRST POST OF 2022!! this piece is my contribution to @favoniuscodex 's "favorites with friends" event! i'll jump at any chance to write for my beloved kaeya, and though i'm sad i didn't get to write him the birthday fic spectacular i wanted to, i think this makes up for it in my little writer heart :P i hope you enjoy!

" I'M A MAN WHO'D KNOW NO HAPPINESS WITHOUT YOUR SMILE, OR LOVE WITHOUT YOUR KISSES "

the first time kaeya alberich kissed you, it was a melancholic, rainy day full of raging tides and crackling thunder.

he had only meant to test the waters; see just beneath your skin and observe the way your heart pounded in your chest whenever he strutted by with a wink and a blown kiss in your direction. but, instead, the tides had risen and engulfed him with sweet fervor and though his lungs craved the comfort of oxygen; of a no-strings-attached little game, he ceded to the sugary depths of your ocean's bellow and allowed himself to drown within your everything.

one date turned to two, then ten, and suddenly he wasn't keeping track any more because time seemed to fizzle off into specks of sparkling gold by your side, and in that moment of sweet prolonged brevity did he realize the hold you had on his shipwrecked heart.

it was a thundering day when he finally put his lips on yours for the first time. the recipe for disaster entailed: one rainstorm, one picnic-gone-wrong, two rain-soaked, giggling adults who ran hand-in-hand back to the gates of mondstat, and a stone archway where you brushed his damp locks from his face with a smile and he tried his best not to let his eyes wander down your sheer clothing. what should've been innocent touches and fleeting glances slowly began to bud into lingering touches and he had leaned in almost instinctually like a rehearsed habit before he even realized it. and never before had he tasted a flavor more sweeter than the smothered smile that he felt curve up against his lips, or your honey giggles muffled by the gentle dance of your intertwined lips. it's a sweet song that drowned out the hammer of the rain and crackle of lightning that zipped across the sky.

"say," he muttered just as his lips were about to meet yours, "this is quite cliché is it not? two young lovers caught in the rain for a kiss? you'll indulge me, won't you, sweetheart? or are you perhaps too shy of how good i might make you feel?" he purred with a droopy smile and thumbed the apples of your cheeks.

"oh shut it," the exasperated smile on your face grew as you tugged him impossibly closer and brushed your nose against his, "less talking, more kissing, pretty boy."

kissing was nothing new: nothing grand or revolutionary or anything that would shatter through the glass panes of his reality. at least, that was what he thought before his lips had pressed themselves so firm yet gently against your own and your hands, which wrung themselves around his neck, raked through his damp locks and ignited a dance of swans in his heart.

even after he pulled away from your lips and caressed every inch of your face with his calloused palm, he never truly ever pulled away ever again: for you were his sweet siren who sang tales of starcrossed lovers and destined fate, and he was a mere sailor who loved and loved and loved and jumped ship without hesitation.

continued utc!

" YOU'VE SHOWN ME WHAT LOVE IS—WHAT LOVE COULD BE IN ALL ITS INTRICACIES AND MIRACLES, AND I'LL MAKE IT MY LIFE'S MISSION TO REMIND YOU EACH AND EVERY DAY OF HOW MUCH I CHERISH THE GIFT OF LOVE YOU'VE GIVEN ME "

love is a tricky sea of uncertainty that requires a compass crafted of patience and a telescope forged out of understanding. but love, as he knew it, was not patient, kind, or understanding.

but you were.

patient was your heart which thundered so gently for him; every bit of him from the scalding portraits of firey flames on his body to the thick, coarse, wiry branches that engulfed his shielded heart. patient were the tips of your fingers, which brushed against his and never asked for more than he could ever give (because what he had was finally enough). patient were your lips that melded so sweetly against his and uttered words of unaltered affection bathed in a thick, rosy red glaze.

you understood that you could never truly understand a man like kaeya alberich and yet despite this your arms wrapped around his waist with no hesitation in sight, and you'd look at him as if his scarred and bruised hands were the glorious hands which hung the crescent moon and her glittering stars.

and the kindness that spread and branched out from your back like clouded, fluffy angel wings and engulfed him in their warmth; oh how kind your embrace was; how lovely it was to be peppered with kisses and bathe in your words of sweet love and adoration, or let you kiss the tip of his nose whenever you'd drop off a neatly packed box of a homemade lunch to his office.

he had lost his compass and had his telescope ripped from his trembling, young hands: but you forged new ones bonded of the strongest metals and utmost care and placed them in front of him: you allowed him to grab onto his navigation tools at his own pace, and with eyes unclouded by grief and fury and tools crafted of warmth, sunny days, and the smell of sunflowers did he finally set course for the treasure chest of your heart aboard his sturdy ship.

his compass guided his heart in the direction of yours, and with his telescope he spotted a shore line of a sandy beach where you sat with an armful of blossoming calla lilies and a gentle smile, waiting for his ship to finally dock.

and with these tools did he finally utter the single greatest three words known to all.

shoes and socks discarded and ankles deep in the sloshing, crystal waters of cider lake at the cusp of sunset was where kaeya alberich took both of your hands within his and first murmured a dream against your fingertips.

"say it again." you asked.

and he did. he said it louder, and louder, and louder, until he was screaming at the top of his lungs and spinning you around in the water until both of your clothes were damp and his voice was hoarse and throat sore and the air was filled with your mingled giggles and love-bathed gazes.

"well, are you satiated, sweetheart? or do i need to run my voice into the ground a little more?" that familiar boyish smile of his creeped onto his face as he cupped your face within his hands and thumbed your cheeks just as he did on the day he first got a taste of your lips, "though, if it's for you i wouldn't mind all that much." he murmured against the inside of your wrist as he picked up your hand within his own and peppered kisses all the way up to just beneath your earlobe, where you shivered in his arms and relished in his touch no gentler than the drop of a feather.

perhaps you were living the same dream when you whispered an "i love you too," against his lips, and let him lead you in a water-bathed waltz to the tune of rolling tides and cooing evening doves.

" I CAN'T PROMISE YOU MUCH, BECAUSE EVEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS; BUT I KNOW THAT SHOULD I LOSE MY WAY, MY HOME WILL ALWAYS BE IN YOUR ARMS "

home was within your arms, and you were never quite far.

according to his subordinates, their captain had gone "soft", but how could one not want to melt into the side of their love and feel them merge into their embrace? perhaps he was "soft", but softness was a sweet aria that sounded like you and he was an avid listener.

his duties bound him to work, but once finished you often expected him to be on your doorstep with an armful of your favorite flowers and a promise of a stroll around a rolling hill or two. bit by bit his clothes began to pile up in your closet, and yours his. he'd forgotten his scarf—slung over one of your dining room chairs—after a night spent humming gentle melodies and swaying in each other's arms while skewers of fruity chicken grilled on the stove and a tray of cupcakes baked in the oven (not to mention all the frosting he must have kissed off of your lips). you returned it the next day and draped it over his shoulder like a veil: he loved that it smelled like home because it smelled like the sweetness of the cupcakes you both had baked last night.

"kaeya! i thought i told you no spoon licking!"

despite being caught, he eyed you the second time his tongue scraped over the wooden spoon and collected the sweetness of the chocolate frosting into his mouth, complete with a satisfied hum. "my condolences, dove, but you must know by now that i'm simply insatiable when it comes to sweets." he chuckled and lurched his hand containing the spoon upwards just as you lunged forwards to grab it out of his hand.

"gimme the spoon, you big oaf!"

but that was the last thing he wanted to do; looking at the little furrow of your eyebrows and seeing you try to come off as angry but give in to the bursting bubble of giggles that wiggled up from your stomach made his heart flutter and glow a beautiful, pearlescent pink.

his free arm wrapped itself around your waist and pulled your flush against his chest, effectively silencing your attempts to regain the spoon and your giggly protests.

"won't you let me satiate my sweet tooth with just a little taste of you, dove?" he hummed against the shell of your ear.

of course he didn't mean the spoon—in fact he tossed it into the sink to hold the back of your head as soon as you closed the gap between your faces and let his sweet tooth indulge in all the sugary sweetness of your kisses.

his house was bathed in your glow: from little trinkets of yours that you had brought and put on his shelves because they suited him—according to you at least—(like the little trail of wooden duckies that shrunk in size the more they went down his shelf), to the now worn-in softness of his couch, once firm and hard from disuse.

there were imprints of your existences within both of your homes but he felt that there was never a need to ask you of anything more: what he had now was comfortable and safe. you existed in every crevice of his home, and how he dreamt so many nights of waking up in the morning to the smell of savory pancakes and coffee, and wrapping his arms around your waist and planting his chin firm on your shoulder while you flipped more of the delicacies.

he loved to surprise you—loved seeing the glimmer of your eyes when they lit up in excitement when his hands unraveled to reveal the prize beneath his skin: whether it was an invitation on a kaeya-esque date that involved mock pirate treasure hunts or a simple picnic in a field of flowers, or even just a little kiss, you loved it all and he loved you.

so with a heart bursting of desires for your hands to gently comb through his morning bedhead and for your clothes to hang neatly beside his in his closet, he looped a necklace with a perfect, bronze copy of his apartment key around your neck and kissed the back of your nape to utter silent words straight down your spine.

"you're always around, so i figured i'd gift you a little something to make my place easier for you to get into. you're the only burglar that i'd welcome with open arms, sweetheart." he chose to ignore the gentle, chiding slap on his forearm as he hugged you from behind and toyed with the metal key that now hung from your neck.

imagine his surprise when you, in turn, knocked him off his feet to the ground in a hug and produced a key similar to the one to your house from your pocket, made in a similar fashion to the necklace he had looped around your neck.

" I LOOK FORWARD TO ALL THE MORNINGS THAT I GET TO WAKE UP BY YOUR SIDE, AND I LOOK FORWARD TO WATCHING YOU BURN BREAKFAST TOO "

there was beauty to be found in even the most mundane of activities when it concerned you.

the minute his eyes fluttered open, he was gifted with the beautiful sight of your slightly parted lips and a thin trail of drool from the corner of your mouth as you snored contently with your head nestled into the crook of his neck. morning light streamed through his (or should he say yours—but really it was both of yours) bedroom windows and bathed your intertwined bodies in a honeyed morning glow.

it was the first time he'd ever woken up next to you when light was still young and birds cooed their sunrise sonnets. his fingers couldn't help but trace paths across your face and skin. he'd pull you closer if possible but distance was nonexistent when he held you so tightly in his arms. he couldn't wait for you to rouse from your sleep; just what was that pretty little mind of yours up to in there? perhaps one day you'd tell him if he asked, and he'd be sure to respond in kind with a foxy smile and tales of grandeur of his own.

but for now he was more than content to sync the rise and fall of his chest with your own and whisper ballads of affection with a sweet rosy scent through half lidded eyes and a gentle smile.

and when you did finally pull yourself away from unconsciousness and fell through the thick clouds of your dreams to wake in his arms, his heart felt whole and full and good.

"you're staring, captain."

your finger poked his bare chest with playful intentions under your fingernail before it dissolved into a tender touch where your palm splayed over his shoulder blade and creeped upward over his skin to cup his cheek, warm from the morning light.

"i quite fancy the drool on your face, wish i had a kamera to capture this moment."

he laughed as you groaned and pressed your face into his chest to avoid his teasing coos while you hurriedly used your sleeve to wipe the trail of drool from your mouth.

"you're insufferable, i'm gonna kick you out of my bed." you grumbled even as he hummed a chuckle against your scalp and kissed the top of your head.

"our bed, sweetheart." he corrected with an impish grin.

"...'m gonna push you off." despite your words, your arms tightened around his torso and you drove your face further into his chest—presumably in search of the gentle pitter patter of his heartbeat. he couldn't bite back the smile that spread to his face as his hand traced indistinguishable patterns along the length of your spine.

"g'mornin', dove." were the words he'd waited so long to say with a voice laced in sleep, and when you replied in an equally raspy and love-drunk tune and so easily slotted your lips against his, there was no other place he'd rather be than snuggled up beside you in your shared bed where you'd forever wake up with morning doves as your alarm and feel the gentle touch of each other's fingertips wander across starstruck skin.

" EACH DAY I WAKE UP AND FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU OVER AND OVER AGAIN, AND I WILL FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU OVER AND OVER AGAIN EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE "

if there were an image that kaeya wished to burn into the back of his eyelids so that he could always remember every intricate detail and glimmering sparkle of the memory, the image of you in your wedding attire and bathed in a honeymooned glow would be his first choice.

his hands were trembling—not the kind that you'd see in a strong captain who'd braved the harsh flare of fiery flames, the cold sting of frost, or the quizzical enrapture of the stars.

his hands were trembling like they were trembling when diluc first placed a frog into his hands at the tender age of four, and kaeya—never having seen such a wonderous creature—was terrified it'd open its mouth and swallow him whole like the creatures back home could.

his hands were trembling like they were when he first picked up a sword and felt the grip of it rub against his once tender palms—now, however, they were quite callous from years of use and wear and yet your hands still caressed his as if they were made of heavenly clouds.

his hands were trembling like they were when he carried out his first campaign as cavalry captain with a shattered heart and a mask that would slip if he were not careful. his voice commanded his troops and he rode his black stallion with grace and glory and all the reverie that a captain should hold, but deep inside he feared braving the storms that awaited him—feared the ferocious endeavors that would snatch the lives of his troop, or even his.

but you knew—you knew so well just why his hands trembled. you'd seen it the minute you starting walking down the isle on the carpeted floors of the church. the white suit he adorned made him look so handsome, so sweet, the epitome of the man you'd soon swear your life to in legal binding. kaeya couldn't take his eye off of you, not from the minute you entered through the heavy, oak doors to the moment you met him at the altar and placed your hands within his own. the soothing rub of your thumbs over his knuckles had him relaxing into your touch, and the little "hi" you whispered to him made him want to do nothing but sweep you off your feet and book it out of the church and go dancing at the shorelines of lakes or read each other fairy tales on gingham picnic blankets on summer breezy days.

and though his hands continued to shake while he recited his vows, his gaze remained fixed onto you and the universe of possibilities that swam in your telescope eyes.

with a shaky breath, kaeya began:

"i'm a man who'd know no happiness without your smile, or love without your kisses."

for once there were no glittery words or phrases bathed in gold. he was terrified of being bare but to bear himself in your arms gave him the confidence he needed to declare his truth once and for in all the holiest of places in front of all those he treasured.

he was glad he lost track of how many dates you'd been on; glad that the thunderstorm that interrupted your picnic had backed the two of your into a corner so that he could finally get a taste of your lips. the day you gifted him true happiness and felt the first surge of love from your lips to his own was the day he felt reborn again; almost as if he had touched the stars and gotten a taste of cosmic dust.

"you've shown me what love is—what love could be in all its intricacies and miracles, and i'll make it my life's mission to remind you each and every day of how much i cherish the gift of love you've given me."

he wanted so badly to wipe away the tears that had begun to pool and trickle down your cheeks, sometimes running over the warbled smile on your lips.

"crying already, darling? but i've only read half of my vows." he leaned down and whispered for your only your ears. he did his best to ignore the slight crack in his voice towards the end and swiped his thumb just below your eye and kept his trembling hand pressed snug against your cheek.

"i can't promise you much, because even i don't know what the future holds; but i know that should i lose my way, my home will always be in your arms."

now it was his turn to tear up, despite how much he promised himself that he wouldn't cry. he tried to dissuade the urge to cry during his vows beforehand (because no matter how hard he tried, whenever he read those promised, sacred words, he just couldn't prevent himself from crying). but, for once, these tears weren't from a place of sorrow and grief, but rather a warm garden filled with roses and carnations and a sparkling fountain with both of your names inscribed on the shining marble. he let out a breathy, shaky laugh when you mimicked his touch and cupped his cheek within your palm to swipe away at the tears that cascaded down his face. kaeya didn't quite know if it was improper to so openly touch you beloved before you were wedded in the church, but nothing mattered more than the gentleness of your touch at the moment.

"i look forward to all the mornings that i get to wake up by your side," he started, squeezing your hand before continuing, "and i look forward to watching you burn breakfast too."

laughter rippled throughout the crowd as you choked back a joyful sob and gently knocked him in the shin with your shoe. "i'll make sure yours is burnt to a crisp, alberich." you muttered.

"what, me or you? we'll both be alberich in a minute, sweetheart." he retorted, despite the glimmer of fresh tears in his eye.

choosing to ignore the side eye of urgency that the pastor gave him, kaeya let go of your hand for a brief moment to pluck a single, blue rose from your bouquet and place it behind your ear before continuing.

"each day i wake up and fall in love with you over and over again, and i will fall in love with you over and over again every day for the rest of my life."

his hands still trembled: more than when diluc placed a frog into his hands, more than when he first knew the weight of a sword, more than when he led his first campaign. but they trembled within your own, and he knew that no matter what he'd be safe enveloped within your touch.

somewhere in the process, the pastor officiated him as your husband and those in the pews cheered, but he was far too enamored with studying every inch of your face and dipping into the pools of your eyes that never flickered away from him no matter what. when you finally cupped his cheeks and kissed him with such adoration and twinkles of starlight in your eyes, he knew that you'd always be there to hold onto his shaking hands.

kaeya knows how to dance with frost: be quick on your feet, subtle with your moves and never, ever, let the enemy get a hint of your next move.

but dancing with you for the first time as your husband was nothing like the dance of a battle of frost. it felt warm, soothing, and sweet: like the first bite of a gooey, chocolate cookie straight out of the oven. as he wrapped his arms around your waist and let you loop yours around his neck, he felt no need to adhere to the ebb and flow of noblemen footwork and fancy dance tactics. your noses brushed against one another, and he was pretty sure he was swaying with you much slower than the tempo of the song, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

the shimmering golden band that adorned his left ring finger was a reminder of his vows, both spoken and silent, and the life that he'd forge by your side as one who loves you. and as he raised your hand to press his lips to the similar ring that encased your finger, he felt a surge of determination wash over him like a gentle tide.

"hey," you murmured, and raised a hand to cup his cheek.

he hummed an acknowledgment and pressed his lips to the inside of your wrist without breaking the starry gaze that connected your eyes to his.

"i'm sure that our dance was supposed to end a little while ago." you giggled and weaved a lock of his fluffy, indigo hair through one of your fingers.

"was it now? my apologies, love, i got lost staring into your eyes."

he tastefully chose to ignore your playful eyeroll and instead zeroed in on your lips, which were moving and probably chiding him for making such a cheesy remark. as if in a trance, his hands cupped your face and tilted your head to the side for a tender kiss that felt like the first breath of spring in his veins; more dainty and gentle than the fragile petals of a soft, velvety rose. his fingers ran over the soft tips of the blue rose he had tucked behind your ear at the altar once he pulled away, all awestricken and breathless in the lungs.

there weren't any words that he needed to preach; no lord to impress, no one to woo or have them do his bidding in a game of wits. just you: you who loved him wholly and as he was for the man he knew himself to be.

the food, guests, and party can wait: because in your arms he is home and home is where he wished to forever remain.

date published: january 9th, 2022

Simone Di Meo batboys