Would You Write A Hiei From YYH Request Where The Human Reader Agrees To Be Bait For A Mission While

ʃ♡ƪ Loving series ʃ♡ƪ

Loving Inumaki

ʃ♡ƪ Falling in love with Inumaki was an experience on its on, it was different. A good type of different. Smiles were rare, saved only for the privacy of his dorm or for perilous missions to sooth your nerves. Instead of romantic mementos your pockets held travel-sized cure throat and pain killers which oddly enough warmed your heart.

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So kiss me

Miya Atsumu x Reader | Fluff

It’s Atsumu’s last summer in Hyogo before he is due to move to Tokyo to begin his training with the MSBY Black Jackals. He has one last thing to do before he leaves.

A/N: Inspired by Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer, recommend listening to it while you read!! Repost bc tags 🙃

Beneath the milky twilight, muffled giggles and clumsy feet stumble down a rocky trail, disrupting the usual quietude of the forest. It’s not long till the two figures responsible for the ruckus appear through the thick cluster of trees, steps slowly coming to a halt as they finally approach the clearing one had been leading the other to.

“Tsumu” you breathe, lips barely able to utter the name as you take in the sight before you.

Your fingers laced through Atsumu’s fall limp before they completely detach, hovering over your mouth in disbelief instead. When Atsumu had appeared at your doorstep claiming there was one last thing to do before summer ended, or, as you two both stubbornly refused to voice, before he left for Tokyo, this had not crossed your mind, not even for a second.

Beside you, the blonde is wearing a proud smile, eyes trained intently on your features that he’s so desperately trying to commit to memory. Your parted lips, the gap between them just wide enough to let out a whisper of his name. Your glistening eyes, capable of outshining even the brightest stars. Your trembling hands, opening and closing, as if unsure of what to do with itself. He wants to remember every detail.

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before xiao, there was alatus. xiao x gn!reader. warnings: angst, mcd!!, blood, xiao's backstory. wc: 2,708. semi proofread.

before xiao, there was alatus.

alatus who served an unknown god with a deep desire for power and used him to slaughter those who opposed his wishes. helpless and weak alatus who devoured dreams and crush the innocent’s hopes. feeble alatus who withstood countless wounds and near-death experiences.

it was him who deserved the terrified looks of his victims, begging him to spare even at least their children and kill them—only for his body to move without his permission. he who dirtied his soul and tainted his hands at the blood that painted his face.

“you’re tending to wounds that won’t kill me,” alatus muttered.

“immortal yes, invincible no.” the once white cloth you had been using from a week ago was now a light pink and alatus knew it was the blood of his victims. it was wet and cold as you wiped the cloth across his face, removing all the red splatters and cleaning the wounds that he newly acquired.

“you’re thinking lowly of me. you know i’ll get dirty again once i step out and—” he let out a muffled noise as you wiped the cloth on his mouth, shutting him up from his self-deprecating talk. still, this earned you a glare.

smiling lightly—one that looked almost apologetic, you look down briefly. “i know…you hate seeing the blood of others on you. so let me do my job just this once, okay?”

of course, there were many things alatus hated in this world. he hated how you were always right. he also hated how you made him feel. hated how he became selfish at the thought of being with you.

you were a mortal and he an adeptus who still could not fend for himself. while you were free, alatus would be forever chained to his master. he’d told you many times to leave him be, that he was dangerous, that you’ll get yourself killed by him, but you merely smiled at his claims.

“stop looking so worried,” you giggled. “your master won’t come and barge in here. what do you know? maybe he’ll make me fight you and think you’re unfit for the job because you’ll lose to me!”

alatus scoffed—visibly frowning—and crossed his arms as he gave you a look of detest. “you mortals and your imagination.” 

“and this mortal,” you gestured to yourself, “is taking care of an injured adeptus.”

you leaned towards him, gently placing a hand on his cheek as you look up at him. “alatus,” you whispered.

he leaned into your touch, humming. your skin was warm and palm lightly calloused from the everyday work you did but he loved the way you held him. you let out a small laugh, thumb brushing over the healed wound on his cheek as he cracked an eye open to gaze at you tenderly.

“i went to town today and zhao told me there would be a war. do you think it’s true?” you mumbled, already knowing you would be separated from him.

“your god will protect you,” was all alatus could say to you.

war meant death, countless and thousands who would perish at the hands of whoever was responsible. and though alatus protected you from the shadows, he would not be able to be by your side once a war would brew. someone like him who bathed in death was for the battlefield—to kill, to destroy. war meant separation and alatus feared the day your hands wouldn’t be as warm as you held him now.

“hah…i suppose,” you said, your shoulders dropping. “at least i can spend today with you.”

“you talk as if our time is limited,” he scowled. “it’s not, at least for now. i’ll…still come by.”

the lies he told were piling up and he knew they would soon spill out. still, if the lies meant your happiness, alatus would tell a thousand just for the smile on your face to stay. he knew it was wrong—lying directly to your face as you believed him—but he couldn’t dare to see the look of anguish ever again.

with a content hum, you pulled him into your arms and basked in the setting sun. 

–

alatus will never tell you how he felt whenever he was with you. how his stomach would make him uneasy and transform him into a small shy cat, afraid that he’d hurt you in any way should you come close to him. how his day immediately brightens up when he sees you standing by a tree, a stern expression on your face.

"you have blood all over you again," you'd say with a sigh.

and even if you hid the fact that you were terrified of the things he did, you took him into your arms and ran your fingers in his hair. the sweet nothings you whispered when he’d nap on your lap even for a few minutes, leaning down to kiss his forehead made his heart swell.

and he’s glad that he didn’t abandon you the day he saw you.

instead, he listened to the way his name falls from your lips. he chose to lie in your arms and listen to the faint sound of your beating heart. alatus has looked into your eyes as he caresses your face in the moonlight, humming as you whispered about your day to him. 

you were all alatus had in this godforsaken world. he who is the devil would lay at your feet and repent for his actions. if alatus could never forgive himself, you would take his face by your hands and kiss his eyes for they were the reason he saw himself in such a bad light.

the only thing alatus wanted was to be by your side. forever.

he would hold your hand and watch the way your eyes would sparkle at the sight of the sun setting everyday if he wanted. carry you on his back if you ever felt tired from walking whenever you’d set out on a new journey with him. he would eat the food you prepared for him, biting back a soft smile as you complained that his master would treat him so cruelly to not let him eat.

he adored you wholeheartedly.

but you were mortal, ever so fragile.

there would be times alatus would not be able to be by your side and the thought frightened him more times than you’d think.

how could he live a life without you?

he was selfish but he knew you’d still risk it all for him. it was only natural for him to do the same. you were mortal and you’d vanish soon enough but alatus would do anything to keep you alive.

–

“it’s a new dish i’ve been trying out. the ingredients are kind of expensive, so don’t expect me to make it every time!” you reminded as you set the two plates down on the table. 

“your fingers are all…” alatus muttered as he picked up the spoon, eyeing your bandaged fingers—blood still seeping through.

you held them to your chest, offering him a laugh. “it’s nothing, i swear! don’t freak out if you find blood in your food—i’m kidding, i swear.”

he almost looked offended at your statement, looking down at the plate and nudging it with the spoon. it was times like this that alatus did enjoy your presence and warmth. just the two of you basking in the moonlight. the food quickly melted into his mouth and he closed his eyes.

“well?” you peered at him, nudging his shoulder with yours.

alatus turned to you, paused and reached his hand out to bring your forehead closer to his lips. he resumed eating after.

there was nothing he could say but he knew that you already knew the answer to your question.

you leaned onto him, your head on his shoulders as you looked up at the night sky. “hm. let’s name it…almond tofu? it’s made from that, or maybe we should call it tofu almond.” 

“it sounds like something a child would call,” he commented.

“alatus!” you gasped. “take that back!”

“i never said it wasn’t delicious.”

“i suppose you’re right… i hate you and your remarks.”

alatus chuckles lightly, nodding. he takes you in his arms and breathes you in—like a bee needing flowers to survive. you were the light that shone brightly beside the devil, his savior and sanctuary. 

-

fight for me and get me a seat as an archon, his master had demanded all so suddenly.

as he had always been in, alatus was back on the battlefield. his polearm would slash and destroy anything that came his way should they disobey his master, his god. the blood of the innocent on his hands as he slaughtered each and every one.

alatus would never forget the terrified looks on their face, begging him to spare their child.

he hated every second of it. he could not stop even if he wanted to, the strings on his body were being controlled by his god. his god who desperately wanted the seat as one of the seven—greedy and merciless, he spared no one.

red and black was all alatus could see—he had forgotten the colorful skies, the greenery of nature, and the color of the love you gave him.

his soul was tainted and dirty, no repenting could ever make you forgive him now. should alatus crawl to your feet and beg for forgiveness, he knew you would stare at him in disgust and punish him for what he had done.

home was no longer with you, no longer in your arms that would wrap around him and have you whispering soft nothings. alatus was leaving battlefield after battlefield and soon, it had grown into his home.

days felt like years and he wished to head back to you each time he would rest—but he was bound by contracts and his weakness, you. 

-

 “…isn’t that him? he’s disgusting. i can’t believe he’s one of us.”

“it’s like he doesn’t have a mind of his own! what are you—don’t leave me!”

“…master, alatus has caused a great casualty. your soldiers are dying at his hands as well.”

“…master, alatus has killed general zho… we must kill him, it’s the only way—"

“you dare disobey me? alatus is my greatest soldier.”

“alatus, you must kill everyone who opposes me.”

“no god will save you, you damned devil!”

and soon, alatus had begun to kill gods. gods who waged war with him and his master, gods who wanted to flee and save their people, gods who did not care about the seating of celestia.

do you actually think you’re not a monster?

do you know what’s worse than a demon like you? a liar.

you killed people.

no one would forgive you.

what would [name] think?

what would [name] think?

whaT WOULD [NAME] THINK?

it’s in the most gruesome battle that he awakens at your name.

“the name xiao is that of a spirit who encountered great suffering and hardship. he endured much suffering, as you have. use this name from now on.” morax stood in front of alatus—no, xiao.

his master was now dead.

he had won the battle—but at what cost? 

xiao fell on his knees. his world had crumbled.

death was inevitable, it really was. but he had told himself he would go to great lengths to stop death from clinging to him—stop clinging to anyone he loved. he had never loved anyone as much as you before, you were the only one he knew how to love.

so, tell him, why did death cling to him?

a minute earlier. ten minutes earlier. no, an hour earlier. god, maybe a week earlier. you, who he swore to protect with all his heart, clung to him desperately, sobs escaping your lips as you trembled in his arms.

“alatus…it hurts! it hurts!”

xiao bit back the tears, his head buried on your neck as you cried on his chest. “it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, i promise,” he soothed, lips shaking as he held you tighter.

“i don’t want to die, alatus, i don’t want to!” your voice was weak, full of fear and heavy breaths. xiao wishes he could hear your voice from before, joyous and teasing.

like everyone he had killed, your blood was on his hands. on his arms. on his clothes. on his face. your blood was everywhere on him. it seeped into him and he could feel every bit of it. xiao wanted to vomit, you were everything he had and you were dying before him.

red—it was all he could see.

the blood that seeped through your clothes, from your arms to your middle to your legs. the wounds on your face must have hurt—he wishes he was there earlier. he would have kept you safe. he should have kept you safe.

your cries were even worse. it was the only thing he could hear as he held on to you, tears already down his face as he hung his mouth open—unable to accept the fact that you laid before him with blood. your cries were painful and it hurt him. hurt him till his bones and hurt him in his heart.

sobs wracked your body and you could feel the pain. how painful your wounds were. 

“it hurts!” you cried, “it hurts so bad!”

xiao ran his fingers through your hair, attempting to soothe your cries. his hand reaching out to cup your face as you looked up at him with tear-stricken eyes. you cherished life and you cherished being with him.

losing life meant losing him. 

“you won’t die,” he repeated over and over again.

please…

 xiao wished it was enough to comfort you but really, it was for him. for him to stop falling apart and hurry and take you to the adepti.

“alatus,” you choked out, “please i want to live, i want-i want to be with you…please save me.”

a new name, he wanted to tell you. he lived under a new god now. the cruel master that you hated was now dead and he was saved. the war you had told him about was now over.

you can be together as usual now. he had so many things to say but his body trembled and you simply cried into his shoulder, begging him and any god that you wanted to live and to be saved.

the pain was unmeasurable and both of you knew that you were unsavable. still, you begged him to save you. you were being selfish, so selfish. but you wanted to be with him, feel his smile against your shoulder, have him bury his face into your neck in embarrassment.

“you’ll live. you’ll live. i’ll-i’ll take you to-to morax,” he spluttered, already making up his mind that he should at least try anything to save you. but you hissed in pain when he lifted you up and xiao knew.

there was nothing he could do.

alatus, what do you think of my dish?

alatus, do you think we can gather some qingxin?

alatus, kiss me?

 alatus, welcome home!

 alatus.

alatus.

alatus, do you want me to die?

alatus, why are you so useless?

alatus, you killed me.

(i didn’t…!)

“alatus, i love you, i love you, i love you,” you whispered against his skin. briefly, you wanted to see him smile at you but you were already being too selfish; so, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and closed your eyes at the warmth he brought you. “even-even until death, i will-will love you.”

“you’ll be okay,” xiao whispered, hand by your head as tears rolled down his cheeks. he was weak—he’d always been weak. “it’s okay, i love you too… so, please… it’ll be okay, it won’t hurt anymore. i love you, i love you."

xiao could only wish you managed to hear it.

before liyue and its people, there was you who he swore to protect.

before xiao, there was alatus who wished that you could have stayed with him as xiao.

notes the 2.7 archon quest absolutely wrecked me, i felt so sad seeing xiao wanting to sacrifice himself so i wrote this to help <3 hope u like it because i know i did

gen taglist @ljinghe @yaefics @imtoodumbforaname @wccycc @sugxqts @cottonfluffs // join the taglist here

Okay okay! Hear me out! Phone sex with scara!

Reader calls him in the middle of the night because they cant relese without him.

Take your time and stay hydrated~💜

And, if its not taken can i be the 💕 anon?

Have a good day!

i want that big hat man obliterated

tysm for the kind words, i hope you are taking care of yourself as well ♡

also you got it, welcome aboard, 💕 anon!

this is more of a current times au where technology exists and also scaramouche has the mouth of a sailor 💀

sorry i ended this kinda abruptly, btw. i am bad at writing for scaramouche, i think 🙃

warnings: dom!scaramouche and sub!gn anatomy/pronouns reader

phone sex, mutual masturbation (reader fingers themself), degradation and praise 👏, lube usage, orgasm control, slight asphyxiation

you tossed and turned between your sheets, frustrated with yourself.

scaramouche had recently left for another one of his 'business trips,' or so he called them, leaving you alone for the week.

you turned on your back, staring up at the ceiling with a huff. you glanced over at the clock, squinting at the red numbers glaring back at you.

2:37 am.

ugh.

the worst part of it all was the slight, dull, ache you felt between your thighs, causing you to rub them together.

it was pointless to try and relieve it, you figured. ever since you got with scaramouche, he made it impossible for you to come without him. for his stature and soft face, you would've never expected his skill with his fingers and tongue.

or maybe you could've guessed about the tongue seeing as he has plenty of practice in the never-shutting-up department...

you frowned as you reached for your phone, hissing through your teeth as the bright lights temporarily blinded you until you could unlock the screen and slide the brightness down.

you rubbed your eyes with your free hand, grumbling to yourself. your thumb hovered over scaramouche's name in your phone, biting your lip as you considered calling him.

he's definitely asleep...but on the off chance he's awake, maybe he could help?

fuck it, the worst that could happen is you wake him up and feel shitty about it, and then you make it up to him once he comes home, right? yeah...

you pressed the button to dial his number, shocked when he answered almost immediately.

"what's wrong?" he sounded husky, prompting you to turn your volume up a bit to hear him better.

"hi, scara."

scaramouche went silent, sighing into the phone as you heard sheets rustling. "can't sleep?"

"yeah, sorry for waking you up i'm just, well, i was wondering if you could...sorry. i- ugh this is awkward to talk about." you rambled as you heard scaramouche lean over to turn a lamp on with a soft click.

"you're horny at 2 in the morning." he stated, bluntly as your eyes widened. "before you ask how i know, don't be dumb. you're obvious as hell."

"right-" you went quiet, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

"if you want me to help you, we're gonna do it like we would back home, got it?"

"demanding." you teased as scaramouche grunted, sitting up against the headboard of the hotel bed.

"it's gotta be authentic. i guarantee you can touch yourself all you want, but you're not gonna come until i make you."

your lips parted a bit at that, wanting to say something back, though nothing intelligent came to mind quick enough. "okay." you obliged.

"good. take everything off first."

you set the phone to your side, removing your pants first, tossing your underwear with them to the floor. you slowly slid your top off, deliberately brushing it against your nipples to mimic how scaramouche would undress you. well, when he wanted to tease you, that is.

"all done, what's next, sir?"

scaramouche made a low noise from that, untying his own pants and moving them down his thighs. "top left drawer, open it and grab the oil."

you carefully reached across the bed, retrieving said bottle and laying back down. "got it."

"pour some on your fingers." you set the phone down on speaker, thankful you lived in a secluded house as you uncapped the bottle.

you did as he asked, pouring out some and moving your hands to warm it up before scaramouche stopped you.

"did i tell you to do that?"

"huh?"

"use your fingers to spread it across your chest. cold." you shivered at his tone, swiping your fingers over your chest and feeling your nipples harden with every light touch. you sounded breathy, hearing soft, slick sounds from scaramouche's end of the call. "good."

such a small word had such a big impact on you, making you whine lowly as you pinched your nipples.

"slide your hands down your body." you trailed your fingertips lower, leaving a track of oil down your skin that shone in the moonlight. "spread your legs."

you moved your thighs up, indecently exposing yourself to the cool air, feeling it hit your hole as you whined at him through the phone.

"touch yourself."

you slid your oiled fingers across your sex, stroking up and down and in all of the places that felt right as you shifted on the bed, rutting your hips into your fingers.

little gasps and whines spilled from your lips as you played with yourself. scaramouche leaned in closer to the phone, taking a shaky breath as he listened to your noises more closely, stroking his dick leisurely, twisting his wrist when he reached his tip. "you sound so slutty." he commented, hearing you let out a soft moan.

he laughed softly, shaking his head. "ha, i almost forgot, you actually enjoy being degraded. humans are so filthy." he snapped, though his hips chased his hands as he stroked his shaft faster, controlling his breathing. "move your fingers over your hole. you better hope you still have oil on them, otherwise it'll hurt like a bitch."

you moved your fingers to circle your hole, shifting your hips as you smeared the oil and wetness from your sex around it. "ah, scara-"

"i thought it was 'sir' to you?"

"sir, sorry, sorry-" you panted, "can i put one in, please?"

"you sound so pathetic. desperate. you can't even wait for me to do what you asked of me. begging me to stick your own fingers in your greedy little hole. fine."

you sobbed as you gently pressed a digit into your hole, willing your body to relax as scaramouche grunted, hastening the pace of his hand. "fuck- you sound so-" he cut himself off when he dug his thumb into his slit just right, hips spasming. "put another one in. now."

you slid another digit in with the first, oil making it pleasantly slippery as you slowly pushed them in and out, feeling your hole suck them back in. "archons..."

"don't you dare speak of them." scaramouche snapped. "those fools aren't worth your worship. they're not the one allowing you to come, are they?"

"no, sir!" you replied to him, crooking your fingers inside you deeper as your thighs trembled.

"play with your nipples while you finger yourself. you always whine like a little brat whenever i do that, yeah? and don't you dare hide your whorish little noises from me."

you slid your free hand that had been entangled in the sheets up your body, tweaking your nipples as you let out a shaky sigh. you let out babbles of his name and pleas as scaramouche listened to you more intently.

"fuck, just like that. keep going. go deeper, come on."

you reached the digits deeper, pressing and searching for the spot scaramouche loved to abuse to make you writhe and sob under his touche.

you pinched at your nipples while sliding the pads of your fingers in your hole, trembling against the bed as you felt your orgasm start to build up. "s-sir, i'm close."

"hold it. you come when i tell you to."

"but-"

"you asked me to make you come, so i'm doing my job. is that not good enough for you? keep fucking yourself."

you cried out his name, fucking your hips into your fingers and moving your hand to splay across your throat, lightly cutting off your airflow as you let out a breathless gasp.

"please-" you begged softly as scaramouche shifted.

"fuck, are you- are you choking yourself? that's..." he had no words left, fucking his fist until he came over his abdomen, back arching. "come-" he gasped out, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. "come for me, now."

your back arched up off the bed, fingers going slack on your neck as you came, sobbing out for scaramouche until you eased back onto the bed, blissed out. your head felt fuzzy, ears full of static as you reached for the phone with jelly limbs.

"what do you say?"

"thank you, scara."

sincerely,

yours truly (part one). / sincerely (part two).

premise: your diligent efforts to uncover the identity of your secret admirer had ultimately amounted to nothing. in fact, your investigations only raised more questions — your companions' strange behaviors and shifty-eyed gazes hadn't completely escaped from your awareness, not to mention you've become... privy to some of their affections...

and what is the last thing you need while trying to search for one person who liked you? more people to like you, of course!

but that is exactly what you receive. (goddamn it all.)

includes: zhongli, kaeya, scaramouche, itto & the real secret admirer !

note: oh god i have done it. it's even longer than the other one but since this is the 10k celebration fic, it's only rightfully so! i hope you enjoy this... likes and reblogs are appreciated <33 please read the first part if you haven't already!

zhongli:

all things considered, zhongli is an unrelated figure to your personal issues, not particularly concerned with such trifling matters. you lived worlds apart, and he's generally preoccupied by his own studies anyway, too absorbed in his thesis to mind who has a crush on who and whatnot.

yet it seems as if fate is intent on pulling you two together whether you like it or not.

you belong in different majors, your lecture halls on opposite sides of campus, and he's an upperclassman. not to mention the upperclassman everyone looks up to, the senior equivalent of albedo. though he holds an air of benevolence and warmth, he's unapproachable in the way nobody would dare impose themselves in fear of bothering him with their presence.

professors only speak of his name in accordance with endless words of praise, and legend has it that any paper he proofreads is guaranteed to receive a high grade... not that anyone could confirm it, since nobody has been gifted that luxury.

except for you, of course, living the y/n life — you'd been slaving away on your assignments per usual at diluc's cafe when, in a moment of misfortune, zhongli had crashed into a waiter and spilled his coffee on your papers, soaking pale sheets in brown splatters and smudging the inked sentences you'd painstakingly written for the past hour.

if only your laptop hadn't run out of battery, you wouldn't have resorted to drafting with pen and paper. or you could have done your work in a later date instead of being productive for nothing. fuck.

witnessing your expression crumpled to disbelief and misery, zhongli apologized through offering his assistance in doing your assignment with you. and oh boy, he did it well. it was better than what you could've ever done, the insight he provided beyond profound. he was humble even as you showered him with compliments, still looking quite apologetic for the fiasco he caused.

and. right. it could've ended there. after that occasion, you would wave at him if you passed by each other at the hallways, but that's where the extent of your relationship ended, a pair of underclassman and upperclassman who'd known each other once.

but of course it's never that easy.

he pops up when you least expect it, running into you frequently even though the rumors articulated “you'd hardly get a glimpse of him since he's busy all the time” clearly. and he's acquainted with people you know well, just that you never paid attention to it; keqing seems to respect him a lot, so does xiao, ganyu perks up whenever he's brought up in conversations, and childe sticks to him when given the opportunity. perhaps it was only a matter of time that you begin a friendship with him as well...

but what's up with these horribly timed drama tropes you keep experiencing with him?!

bumping into him and dropping your books to the floor so he offers to walk you to the library, locked into a room when a professor asks you to collect materials for class with him and the door has a faulty knob, getting photographed by a student while you study in the same table and everyone assumes you're dating,,

you've been seeing far too much of him.

everyone's patience has been wearing thin. xiao tries his best to keep his annoyance at bay but fails. childe has resorted to bribing zhongli for free lunch to lead him away from you. albedo straight up drags you to the opposite direction whenever he spots zhongli within vicinity.

but it's like there's a force of nature compelling you to stick right back to him.

hosting events for college fests had never been your kind of thing, but attention follows you if you're acquainted with famous people, and keqing was unwilling to be an emcee if she didn't have a friend alongside her to act as a second host. of course, that meant everyone was deadset on dragging you with her.

you're not very keen on standing on a stage to face the whole school like a kid participating in a talent show, but you've never been good at saying “no” to your friends.

hence why you find yourself clutching on a microphone now, blinded by bright stage lights. you would much prefer if you were part of the audience. or if you were in ayaka's place instead, holding up cue cards behind the curtains.

there's some kind of beauty pageant going on, a popularity contest for the prettiest people in uni. votes are collected via online polls, and you're tasked to reveal the top 10. you don't doubt for a second your friends will all join you on stage eventually, and you've already asked ganyu to drag xiao up the platform if he tries to escape. sweeping off a piece of confetti by your shoulder, you flip open the folden paper in your hand and announce the winning names.

zhongli steps up as one of the candidates for first place and you faintly hear gasps of awe and high pitched squeals.

you nod at him in acknowledgement, and he returns the gesture in kind. you head on over to hand him a mic of his own, keqing busying herself by doing the same job for other contestants, and...

in your carelessness, distracted by fumbling with the paper in your hand to hide it back inside your pocket, you trip over an electrical cord.

you've been waiting the entire night for the time where you'll eventually embarrass yourself in front of a crowd. perhaps a voice crack in what's supposed to be a tense situation, a stutter in your words, falling off a stage even, but here it is, even more horrifying than what you could've imagined.

squeezing your eyes shut instinctively, you brace yourself for the hard surface to tumble onto. instead, what meets you is something squishy, someone's hands gripping around your shoulders, and-

FUCK. you banged your knees on the ground.

the first thing to pop in your mind is a myriad of swears that could stun a sailor.

the second is the oddly plush surface your lips had landed on.

the third is the sight of widened golden eyes. they look very familiar. but you'd rather not think about who they belong to.

the ugly screech of the microphone dropping to the floor is drowned out by gasps, yelling, and the scandalized choke of keqing behind you. xiao — who did end up being a contender for the stupid popularity contest and is standing only a few meters away, makes an alarming noise that could trigger a person's fight or flight reaction.

you hastily attempt to rise to your feet, but the floor is slippery what the actual fuck, and zhongli, oh for fuck's sake, innocent and oblivious zhongli grabs your hips to keep you steady.

.....of course the accidental kiss and caught in a compromising position tropes were going to happen eventually.

kaeya:

“it's from me.”

your gaze travels from the fresh, new bouquet of flowers emitting a sweet fragrance lying in your arms, and the face of the man currently standing before you, lips curled in what seems to be a supposedly reassuring smile.

“you mean... this and the carnations last time?”

his lips are still firmly quirking upwards, admirably patient in spite of reiterating the same phrase over and over again whenever probed with your repetitive questions.

still, he doesn't quite give off the impression of someone deeply infatuated.

and okay, not to be narcissistic, but you expected a secret admirer to... well, admire you more, yet this person looks as nonchalant as ever.

and he doesn't look like the type to profess love through subtle means. at all.

you'll be blunt. you've heard of kaeya. who hasn't? whether it be of mischief, or something more scandalous in nature, he's more or less always involved with trouble, gossip about him traveling fast. it may be an insane prank in the boys' dormitory or someone he bedded (who's supposedly out of everyone's league, yet fell for his charms so easily), you hear of his name quite often.

it's just that you didn't expect you'd associate yourself with him...

and if you have at least two brain cells to rub together, you can easily piece together the conclusion: this guy is definitely talking out of his ass.

nobody has ever heard of kaeya pining over someone so badly that he personally sent bouquets and other small gifts to appease them, admiring them from the shadows. it's so clearly not his style. if he likes someone, he'd flirt with them a bit and cleverly worm his way into their heart, and absolutely not give away presents expecting nothing in return.

but if he's not your secret admirer, then for what reason is he pretending like he is?

you want to seek the truth, and playing along for the meantime sounds like the best option. and this may draw out the real secret admirer, the sly part of you voices internally.

thinking it'll be rude to turn him down publicly (since of course he initiated this exchange in the middle of a crowd, and that only gives you more reason to doubt him), you decide to see how things go first.

if anything, this whole “wooing” business with kaeya seems like it's done out of spite. does he have a bone to pick with you? or he made one of those stupid “it'll only take a week for you to fall for me” bets with his friends? hopefully not, because that's terribly out of trend.

your indifferent responses do nothing to deter him from sticking to you like glue though, doing this and that to earn your favor. he's... not doing anything wrong, actually. if you didn't know any better, you'd think he's like any other eager guy who wants to receive your love.

he does a great job of remembering what things you like and dislike, making a habit of inviting you out for a meal in your favorite restaurants every now and then or taking note of what movies you're looking forward to so you could watch it in the cinema together.

... it feels more like hanging out with normal friends now.

kaeya eases into the idea of that notion, too, insisting on meeting you outside of his shady “i'm your secret admirer” business. it doesn't take too long until you begin to reach out to him as well, inviting him to go shopping with you to look at jewelry together (and dear lord, does kaeya know how to accessorize) or giving him a ticket to the amusement park when kokomi bails on you. (“so i' m just a rebound? a back-up plan?” kaeya arches a questioning brow, acting deeply hurt to provoke a reaction. you smack his shoulder and he laughs in mirth.)

(he definitely tries for the “let's go to the haunted house so you can cling to me when you're scared” cliche but fails. why does he feel disappointed though...)

if given more time, maybe the time would come where you'll both just shrug off the secret admirer thing and continue on normally as friends. it'll be the last thing on your minds, a joke that never had a punchline. just some prank kaeya didn't see through the end.

but then it resurfaces when kaeya had already given you your daily dose of coffee — yes, he somehow knows the secret recipe you like, something you plan to ask him about later — but another cup is waiting at your desk, its once warm temperature turning lukewarm.

you inspect it, judging for yourself, and you confirm it's the same recipe you like.

so this one is from the real secret admirer then, the one who's still hiding in the shadows. that, or this recipe is just popular.

the people residing in the same room as you observe the scene with interest, because apparently your romance drama became a spectator sport, stares pinned in kaeya's direction.

you knew he was a fraud from the very start, but others do not, and he's not sure what to say.

someone else makes the excuse for him. “do you have another person who likes you, [name]?” amber asks innocently, essentially saving kaeya's ass without her realizing it. you let your gaze shift from her to kaeya.

“...maybe.” you place the two cups of coffee side-by-side, feigning nonchalance.

if the real secret admirer found out that someone's pretending to be him, this must be his way of saying kaeya's a fraud in front of everyone. after all, if he was actually the secret admirer, there'd be no need for kaeya to give you another cup when he'd already placed one on top of your desk.

and a couple of people already know who the real one is, anyway. xiao just doesn't want to tell you.

kaeya sends what seems to be a longing gaze your way but ends up turning away to head to his own classroom. he'd only offered to walk you towards yours, and you didn't share classes. it gives you more time to ponder how to confront him.

you didn't have to. he explained things himself.

it comes in the time you least expect, a peaceful lunch like any other. he suddenly arrived at your table, tray in hand, and sat opposite of you. “it's not me,” is the first thing he says, no context at all. he admits the obvious truth and you shovel more food in your mouth in your hopes of hiding how curious you are for what else he has to say.

“but i know who's been giving you flowers... and the coffee. also the chocolate the other day. i helped him pick out the presents, actually.” and that's where you choke because that's not what you were expecting at all.

“he was considering sending a love letter, but i told him you'd recognize his handwriting because you know him very well. and he refused to give a printed letter because he thought it was 'lacking' and you deserved better than that.” he scoffed at the thought. “and that's cute of him. endearing, if you will. but he seriously pissed me off last month and i wanted to mess with him a bit.”

“so you... tried to date the person he likes?” your expression sours. that's a dick move. he immediately shakes his head, as if to say perish the thought.

“not that. i knew for a fact you wouldn't like me anyway. i was just teasing him,” kaeya huffs. “and he got angry at me. well, it's a justified reaction. but i didn't plan on keeping up the charade for long. i only wanted to fool around for a few days.”

“and then?”

“...i missed the timing to pass it off as a joke. then we started to hang out like friends. but i assured him that you didn't actually think i was the real secret admirer, so he forgave me as long as i... do some work for him.”

oh. he's right about that though. and that also explains why kaeya looked so tired recently, helping out a friend with his project as a sincere apology.

“does he plan on revealing his identity anytime soon?” you can't help but ask, your eager eyes betraying the nonchalance in your voice. kaeya sighs at that, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms.

“i've been trying to convince him to. it's exhausting to look at him flailing about like an idiot. he talks about you all the time.” he frowns at the way your cheeks color. “you should try luring him out.”

you tilt your head in question. to show his point, he reaches out his arm, grabbing your hand. you let him do as he pleases, even as he brings the spoonful of your meal to his lips, and takes a bite out of it.

distantly, you hear a metal clatter against the floor and a voice cry out in surprise. you turn your head towards the noise, and you see—

the hell. it's just bennett tripping.

... but it's not like bennett dropped a metal utensil or anything. he is the one who cried out, though.

“wrong direction, sweetheart. you were supposed to look at the right. what a shame, you didn't see him picking up his fork like a fool.” kaeya laughs, releasing your hand from his grip.

he seems strangely reluctant in doing so, but you decide not to look further into it.

scaramouche:

at best, he is an unwilling spectator.

emphasis on “unwilling” because he truly does not wish to see you. like at all. you're pretty sure he hates your guts, but he'd amassed a lifetime's worth of misfortune and keeps seeing you... and the guys around you.

it's safe to say if your love life was turned into a k-drama, he'd probably seen the entire series.

he'd walked in on you when childe confessed he likes you, purple eyes narrowed into a sharp glare before he turned on his heel and left the room. he'd seen the way xiao looks at you, starstruck and excruciatingly fond, because of course scaramouche sat beside him in class (long, long ago they settled a mutual agreement to not speak to each other unless necessary, even if they hadn't verbally discussed it). he'd seen you at diluc's cafe, too, when diluc poured coffee at the angry customer. scaramouche's clothes were stained, as he was the customer sitting beside your table.

he'd seen you with kazuha when kazuha came to pick you up in the rain. he'd seen albedo draw sketches of you in the corner of his notes. he'd seen thoma with you while out for grocery shopping. he'd seen gorou follow after you not unlike a loyal puppy.

he's, reasonably, tired of seeing your stupid face and your stupid harem and he hates you.

by the looks of it, none of your friends like him. especially mona. she had a few arguments with him already. they didn't mix well, and scaramouche liked poking fun of the astrology she loved, a firm disbeliever of such things. “how is my birthday supposed to dictate my personality? or my relationship status? is this fortune-telling? tell me, then. what's my lucky color for the day-” and he only shut up when mona landed a clean kick to his shin.

...yeah. he's kind of an asshole. the type to scowl 24/7, glare at you for no reason, and bump into you without apologizing. then when you do try to make small talk to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, he scoffs and pointedly ignores you.

but you can't blame him for finding you and... the guys following you irritating. you imagine it must be an eyesore for outsiders. there's already quite a bit of rumors about you going around seducing men (and women, you add, because apparently you can't be friends with pretty girls without having those kinds of intentions... and yoimiya and ayaka could be somewhat touchy) and rumors are almost always wildly changed with each pass of gossip from one person to another.

of course your friends don't believe it one bit and are ready 24/7 to defend your honor, but scaramouche is very obviously not your friend, and he may regard you with something less than pleasing.

it's only understandable you're caught by surprise when you chance upon him picking a fight with people badmouthing you, shoving a boy to the wall with brute force you wouldn't expect from someone his size. (you berate yourself for making fun of his height in this kind of situation.)

“shut the fuck up,” scaramouche drawls out, fisting the boy's shirt collar. “your voice is grating to the ears. surely, you have better things to do than yap nonsensical bullshit out in the open?”

“what's your fucking problem?!” the guy responds, panicking within his grip. “it's not like we were talking about you! don't think so highly of yourself!”

that prompts a scoff from him, and he tightens his hold on the boy's collar. he immediately shuts his mouth, thinking it better not to retaliate. scaramouche's glare promises something beyond simple violence if he continued to act prideful.

somwhat satisfied by the fear glistening in the guy's eyes, scaramouche finally releases him. “scram.”

the group runs off, and you quickly duck behind a wall to hide from his sight as he walks away. you're not sure what to feel, conflicted by his usual prick demeanor and shockingly kind(?) actions behind the scenes.

unfortunately, your confusion reflects directly on your face. after a handful of times catching you staring at him, he finally snaps, “what do you want.”

your expression twists into something complex, and scaramouche's frown deepens. “uh... no, it's nothing, really...”

“you've been looking at me all day. do you take me for a fool?”

your face sours. so much for planning to thank him. maybe he didn't stand up for you and actually just found the noisy gossiping annoying enough to choke a guy and pin him to the wall. if it's scaramouche, it isn't too far-fetched at all.

and what were you going to say to him, anyway? it's not like he explicitly stated he did it for you. it would be beyond mortifying if you thanked him for it and he clarified that little detail, thinking you were stuck-up enough to assume the world revolves around you.

... no, that's too much overthinking, isn't it...

“well?” scaramouche impatiently taps his foot, raising an eyebrow expectantly. you hold back a defeated sigh and decide to stay put.

“sorry if i made you uncomfortable. i was, um, looking at...” who does he sit with again? “xiao!” you mentally apologize to your friend, using his name as an excuse.

impossibly, he becomes more irate than before, his taps ceasing into a calm quiet. the silence pierces more than the tense conversation prior.

without another word, he walks away.

...well. okay. that was safely evaded.

life continues on per usual. you don't interact for the next week, and you want to leave it at that.

except your life is a joke. a romantic comedy you never wanted to be a part of.

...you're assigned to a group project. with him. with childe too, no less. the childe who confessed his love to you not too long ago and you still have problems wrapping your head around it, not sure how to talk with him like you did before.

amidst this drama, scaramouche is stuck smack dab between you. he's unquestionably furious.

he's present when childe looks at you in the same excruciating way xiao does. he's present when childe tries to make jokes to ease off the tension, and it doesn't work in the slightest. he's present in the lingering gazes, awkward pauses when you graze fingers as you hand materials to each other, and reluctant conversations that never last any longer than seven clipped sentences.

scaramouche feels wronged. had he committed a war crime in his past life to deserve this despair?

and you. you just want to get this over with. collect information, make a powerpoint, and present in front of the whole class. easier said than done.

the three of you together doesn't sit right with you, but left with only two isn't any better either. childe and scaramouche don't get along if you leave them long enough for an argument to brew. scaramouche hates you and doesn't fill the silence when childe leaves for a bathroom break. childe tries too hard to talk when scaramouche leaves for a coffee break.

when the first day of working together ends, you nearly cry tears of joy.

“i can walk you home,” childe offers out of goodwill. it's certainly not because he has other intentions in mind, he's just concerned since it is pretty late.

“we take the same bus,” scaramouche speaks, for the first time joining your conversation. “we can go together.”

childe smiles in relief, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair. then he stills. old habits die hard. damn.

for his sake, you don't comment on it. you walk out of the library, scaramouche in tow.

the stroll to the empty bus stop isn't a comfortable one, but at the very least, you're accompanied by an acquaintance and you don't have to feel anxious being alone. you take a seat as you wait but scaramouche chooses to remain standing, placing a fair amount of distance between you.

“...you haven't made up?”

his voice is small, almost swallowed by the howling winds. you're surprised he wants to talk about it, but you laugh. “we didn't fight or anything.”

“fighting would've been better,” he replies. “an apology could still repair your relationship. but there's nothing you can do if you don't see him that way, and he can't see you as a friend.”

you look down at your feet, heels resting firmly against the pavement. “yes... it's tricky. i don't know how to act around him. i don't want to hurt him, but... maybe not rejecting him is painful, too.”

“then turn him down properly.”

“it's not that easy...”

“would you rather him still have hopes for a chance with you and eventually get disappointed instead of dealing with it once and for all?”

he makes an excellent point. it's reasonable enough... but you don't know how to bring it up with childe. not now. not yet. you'll have to think about it properly, the way to reject him with the least amount of discomfort from his side.

“receiving relationship advice from you... if someone told me this would happen today, i'd think they've gone mad.” you chuckle. “do you deal with friends whining about hardships like these often?”

“apparently, they think of me — someone who has no interest in dating — as the perfect person to consult for relationship problems.”

“hm? you don't date? do you like anyone, at least?”

he gives you a look. it's perfectly blank, devoid of his usual arrogance or irritation. you blink at him, the pause in the conversation stretching too long to be comfortable.

“you could say that. but i don't... try things i know won't work out.”

“...like?”

he rolls his eyes. “think about it this way.” he removes his hands from his pockets, approaching your seated figure. he comes startlingly close, mere centimeters away, and his fingers curl around your wrist. your lips part and close, and you wonder if he's trying to kiss your knuckles-

“if i told you now that i like you, with this many people who like you too, there's no way i'd win, is there?”

it's an example, you tell yourself. you asked him a question and he answered it.

“...so the one you like is popular...”

but his gaze looking directly into your eyes is too earnest, too honest. sincere. light reflects against the violet pools, a turbulent storm clouding within.

you neither nod nor shake your head. the bus arrives and you scramble to get on it.

scaramouche pulls you by the wrist when you nearly trip over the small set of stairs, leading you to a pair of seats. if you have something to be grateful for, it's that he doesn't try to talk anymore, using the pair of headphones resting by his neck for the rest of the ride.

itto:

itto barges into your life in a whirlwind of chaos.

it comes in the form of a stray volleyball plummeting towards your back, and the sheer force behind it knocks the wind out of your lungs. your knees buckle and you kneel on the floor, heaving violent gasps of air. the searing pain makes you wonder if you broke your spine.

distantly, a screech bellows from the court. a figure almost flies past the gymnasium's doors to check on your condition. “are you okay?!” it's gorou, you realize, his eyes blown wide with panic.

you don't want to worry him and say you feel as if you've permanently shattered a bone, but your back hurts like a bitch and you tell him so, “fuck me with a hammer, did a bowling ball crash into me or something?”

he ignores your interesting choice of words and answers, “my friends and i were playing volleyball, i'm so sorry! we didn't see you there at all!”

you steer your sight to the gymnasium entrance and oh my god. the doors aren't especially massive, and one of them is even closed, so what are the chances you walk past the small space and precisely get slammed by a stray ball? it's gotta be lower than a five star drop in gacha.

“can you stand?” gorou holds up a hand for you to take but you really can't move away from your fetal position without an explosion of ache jolting through your body. he's three seconds away from offering to carry you when someone else beats him to it.

“did you get hurt?!” a blur of white hair passes through your eyes, and you blink up at an unfamiliar man. gorou's friend, you're guessing, most likely the one who injured you too — that powerful force from the volleyball could only come from someone like him. tall, athletic, muscular. he's ripped. shredded. probably tore your muscle fibers too.

you don't let the pain cloud your mind. he didn't mean to kill you, you remind yourself. you stretch your lips into a smile, but it may just look like a grimace.

however, with a gentleness you didn't expect from him, he carefully hoists you on his back. oh. he's strong. and really warm.

...sticky with sweat too, but you'll try not to mind it too much...

“i'll carry you to the infirmary!”

your brain clears up from the haze of agony. “...wait, you don't have to-” before you get another word in, he rushes to the clinic, and you bypass many, many people. you settle for hiding your face as best as you can.

after proper treatment, he gives you a serious apology. you learn his name is itto, and you instantly recognize him. you've heard of the name itto before, that one popular student on a sports scholarship for basketball, but he's known more for goofing off with other sports teams. he's broken a lot of windows when he played baseball... and probably also broke bones of other people when he roughhoused too much on the soccer field. it's just that he's insanely talented, enough for most people to overlook his troublesome tendencies.

anyhow, famous or infamous, you can't tell yet. but he's very much willing to make up for your injury.

a free meal would honestly suffice just fine, but even after that, he insists on following you around, offering his assistance whenever needed. and, well. you have no problems with having an extra hand to help when you need to carry heavy equipment.

then he learns about the whole secret admirer thing and he proposes he'll help you lure him out.

“and how do you intend to do that...?” you inquire just as you enter the lecture hall, itto trailing after you and setting your bag on the table. his face splits into a grin and you have a vague idea of what he plans on doing.

he wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you close to his chest.

several things happen at once. a huff leaves xiao's mouth involuntarily. the crack of pencil lead breaking into pieces sounds from beside him, scaramouche holding the pen in his hand with too much force. the laughter ringing seconds prior comes to a halt, childe's face no longer displaying a bright smile.

itto blinks, retracting his arm. he didn't expect this outcome. “you have really overprotective friends, [name].”

as one would expect, you never got the results you want because too much people react to his provocations. it's tricky to pinpoint which one of them exactly is your secret admirer when they all like you the same. (this whole situation is truly absurd. it's not that you fed all these guys love potions by accident, right?)

itto doesn't dare upsetting gorou with this though, but with anyone else, it's free game. he begins calling you the most ridiculous pet names he could come up with, in the wrong place and in the wrong time.

my precious cupcake. my sweetest honeybun. little ducky. snugglepuff. they send shivers down your spine. (albedo is noted to be most affected when itto does this. it's not hard to imagine his brain cells frying when itto shamelessly calls you by such awful names.)

but then it becomes a habit. he's not doing it ironically anymore. his mouth had become accustomed to addressing you in manners only lovers do. more often than not, your friends would be caught by surprise when he wholeheartedly calls out “babe” to earn your attention and you turn towards him as if it's like the most natural thing in the world.

the cherry on top is when you attend one of his games for the basketball team.

it's not like you wore his varsity jacket to rub into everyone's faces the fact that you're dating. nor did you wear a cheerleader outfit of some sorts to show your passionate support as his significant other. you'd only come with gorou and kokomi, waving the banner the three of you made into the air as you were seated in the stands along the sides of the court.

when they won the finals, people on your side all rejoiced, flocking over to the team to praise them and offer their congratulations. thinking it would be better to stand by instead of joining the sweaty crowd, you stood aside with kokomi while gorou insisted on diving headfirst to the sea of people.

then a tall head approaches from afar. white hair, bright eyes, and a similarly blinding smile. “[name]!”

you didn't expect him to come to you. well. spares you the effort then. you throw a towel around his neck. “you're drenched in sweat. please don't touch me.”

he frowns. “not even a congratulatory hug?”

“not when you're this gross.”

at least that wasn't a stern no. itto grins. “wasn't i great out there?” he cards his fingers into his hair, fishing for compliments. you thought he had enough of those from the crowd currently swarming him. “i did a ton of 3 pointers. you saw me, right?”

“would you be disappointed if i said i was on my phone the whole time?”

immediately, his face twists into an offended look. of course that was a lie. you laugh and lean on the tips of your toes to reach his hair, ruffling it into a mess. “kidding. you were amazing, babe.”

that moment, you hadn't seen his expression clearly, occupied with patting his head. perhaps you hadn't even realized what you called him.

but to everyone around you, they could see it, plain to the eye — the shock in his gaze, the small twitch of his lips, the rise of his brows. then his cheeks flush a lovely color as he stares at you under his lashes with a hesitance as one would look at the sun, longing to admire its radiance yet afraid to be scorched by its brilliant rays.

he takes the leap anyways, staring at you as long as he wanted.

a lovestruck fool, keen to your touch.

your secret admirer.

relatively speaking, it's an ordinary day so far.

or as ordinary as it can be with a life as silly as yours. the past few weeks didn't feel real. you wish they weren't. everything has become too complicated. everyone kept on acting suspiciously and skirting around you, avoiding eye contact only to observe you from behind.

your day starts out seeing thoma when you open your front door, both of you telling each other good morning. you pass by kazuha having breakfast at a fast food joint. then you run into itto first thing in the morning, where he gladly helps in carrying a 3d model of your project into class. kaeya swings by to bring you coffee since you didn't get a chance to visit diluc's cafe, not having the extra hand to carry among the pile you already have. you make your daily greetings, saying hi to your friends and annoying xiao, as you always do. you nod towards scaramouche, and you even had enough courage to say hi first to childe too. when walking to another lecture hall, you happen to meet albedo, gorou and zhongli in separate times.

then at lunch time, when you briefly leave your belongings alone for a moment, someone leaves a packet of candies stuffed into your bag.

a sticky note is stuck on the surface, “please meet me at the physics classroom at 6 p.m.” scrawled in black ink.

the penmanship is good. it twists in elegant curls at the edges, brush strokes light and even.

you're able to recognize it at first glance, just as kaeya has told you.

you've seen it enough times to burn it in your brain. you've rigorously studied notes with that same handwriting, after all.

at 5:56, you stand in front of the classroom doors. in different circumstances, you'd have second thoughts before blindly following somebody's orders but you know who it's from, and it is decidedly not a murderer out to get you.

you collect an intake of breath, and twist the doorknob.

the last traces of sunlight bathe the room in a heavenly glow, a haze of aureate like shimmering flecks of gold. the billowing curtains hide the figure standing by the windowsill, the gentle breeze caressing your cheeks as you squint in its direction.

the figure moves of their accord, the sound of a book snapping shut following their actions.

albedo walks out, a serene smile displaying on his sun-kissed face.

“...hey.”

your heartbeat pounds in your ears. though you expected his appearance, it does nothing to dull your surprise.

“it's you.”

albedo had always admired you in quiet adoration.

he can't provide a clear explanation why his gaze is naturally drawn to you, turquoise eyes sweeping by your countenance before he realizes it. but it started out simple, as everything does: a curiosity piqued, when he heard of a person tagging along the supposedly unapproachable girls in school.

gossip comes and goes every season, and albedo knew it will pass soon. it's only a matter of time before they cling to another topic to babble about. most likely something kaeya did again, because he chases after trouble like a dog with a bone.

rumors are nasty. they paint you in malicious light, a person seeking attention among the most eye-catching lot. you wished you were on the same league as them, they said. you were only after the benefits of acquainting with those girls, they said.

but you were special on your own.

the way you carried yourself with confidence, against the judgmental stares and muddled opinions. the way you hadn't cared about what other people said, because you knew best about the situation and you were different from what they made you out to be. the way you genuinely loved your friends, sincerely wishing them happiness and doing everything you can to put a smile on their faces.

you were dazzling.

your laughter rang like bells in his ears, your grin a delight to see. your voice was melodious as you prattled on about the latest film you watched, or as you hummed a song with headphones covering your ears. your colorful expressions were amusing, a reflection of the feelings in your heart.

as the professor drones out during lessons, albedo finds himself distracted by his daydreams. what if he stood beside you? what if he could partake in conversations, not only able to hear your voice but you'd also hear his? what if he was the one faced with your smile, the reason of your smile, the one who made you feel such joy?

what if you permitted him to go further? to brush hands with you, to intertwine your fingers in simple intimacy, to curl his arms around your waist in a loose embrace, to press a kiss on the corner of your lips-

his ears burned in humiliation. what on earth was he thinking?

but forget “seeking attention from others,” it didn't even seem like you were interested in dating.

you showed indifference towards the idea, avoiding mixers and drinking parties. you also turned down quite a few dates. not to mention albedo wasn't even friends with you. he wasn't even sure if you knew of his name.

then you showed up at the library, and for the first time, albedo was thankful for the privilege nobody bothered his table, so you could sit alone together.

you became friends after his (despairingly embarrassing) insistent attempts to acquaint himself with you.

and he files away the little details, storing the small things about you in the corner of his mind. what you like, what you dislike. what days were you free, what things you prefer over the other.

it's a happiness he relishes in, the comfort of your friendship. but his greedy little heart yearns for more, for what you cannot give.

he tries anyway.

he's running out of time. you're always surrounded by people, whether you realize it or not. but he considers himself a selfish person. he doesn't want you to be taken away.

he may lose you entirely if he does it wrong.

but you're already here, eyes gleaming, lips pressed in a nervous tight line. the red dusting your cheeks leaves some hope for him, so he musters up his courage and simplifies the storm of feelings that eats away his heart each day:

“i like you, [name].”

a little something for our pretty birthday boy!

pairing; akaashi keiji x reader

word count; 1,022

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genshin boys react to someone pursuing you 1

pairing fem!reader x diluc, childe, xiao / part 2 here

genre fluff, angst, jealousy

warnings some suggestive lines, possessiveness / yandere personalities, a little aggression, stalking on the pursuer's part, minor swearing

note if you'd like similar hc's for zhongli, kaeya, albedo, or anyone else (refer to my character list) feel free to request!

synopsis an unwanted someone persistently continues their advances on you despite you clearly rejecting them and stating you aren't interested... let's see what the genshin boys end up doing >:)

diluc

always stoic and composed, and almost never lets emotion show on his face. or at least hides it enough so no one (except you) notices

diluc is often busy with work and tonight, he's taking a shift at the tavern- you decide to pay him a visit, after all, it's friday night and you'd probably be spending time with him if he wasn't here

he's pretty occupied while you're there, but he still flashes you that smile that's reserved for you, and only you. and plus, you're sitting at the bar and he's always looking out for you, but he knows he doesn't have to worry too much

that's until his brother walks in. ahem, cavalry captain kaeya

the smoothest talker in town walks straight over to you. he practically ignores his diluc's existence as he flirts, asking if he can buy you a drink or two

he's fine with kaeya's antics and doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of reacting. that's until his brother begins to touch you. tucking your hair behind your ear, gently slapping your hand as he laughs at your jokes, touching your thigh with a compliment slipping from his lips

god, he can't handle seeing another man's hands on your skin

diluc's trying not to look at you and kaeya too often... but then he's pouring a drink for a customer and he lets it overflow-

"uhm, master diluc?" "...shit."

he just really wants to take you home now. he'll have his hands all over you later

inside, diluc feels the anger and resentment boiling inside his stomach, but all he does is shoot kaeya a dirty look, but he's too busy flirting with you to notice

"ah, sweetheart, and i assume you're well acquainted with master diluc?"

sweetheart.

diluc scowls at the cute little pet name kaeya just loves to call you. he feels like slapping his brother across the face, but he knows that won't get him anywhere.

so before you can respond to the question, he interjects.

"being in a relationship, i'd say we're very well acquainted indeed, kaeya."

you can hear the stiff rage seeping through his voice as he glares daggers at the man sitting next to you.

"ah-"

before kaeya can finish his snarky, passive aggressive sentence, diluc's grabbed your wrist and leaned over the bar counter to press a rough, but warm kiss to your lips. he lingers a little longer than he usually would, especially in public, and in front of all these customers at the tavern- before letting his palm slide down the curves of your face as he stares into your eyes. he doesn't even give his brother a second glance.

before you know it, the stool beside you is empty after a forced chuckle, and a sudden blush is spreading across your face.

"d-diluc?"

"yes, dear?"

you still don't know how he manages to keep a straight face.

childe

oh boy, childe is already way too eager to fight. so a guy making advances on you when you've clearly said no? he probably would've murdered him beat him up already if it wasn't for you literally holding him back

shows ALL his emotions on his face and is terrible at hiding it, unlike diluc. he's literally a child, but you just can't resist those endearing blue eyes when he's acting all clingy, you find it adorable

"you sure you don't want me to fight him? c'mon darling, it'll be fun!"

no doubt will get jealous when he sees another guy with his eyes on you. after all, you're his and his only; no one else should be able to touch you or admire you

you immediately regret it when you tell childe about the guy who's been flirting with you every time you visit. you can see the anger flash on his features before an aggressively mischievous glint appears in his eyes

cue slightly yandere childe

he insists to follow you literally everywhere (when he's not running some mission for the tsaritsa), making sure that no creeps land a finger... or their gazes... on you

you're at the store with childe one evening. he's gone to buy a snack for you both while you continue shopping

in a mirror you can see the man who's been constantly pushing you to go on a date with him walk quickly towards you

when childe walks back into the store, he can immediately sense the insistence laced in your words and your annoyance radiating off you

he saunters up behind the guy, placing a firm grip on his shoulder. your boyfriend is taller than most, and he makes people cower underneath his looming stare

his typically cheerful grin turns cold in an instant, it almost scares you too

after he's successfully scared the living hell out of the guy, he acts all jealous and cute, whining and pestering you about why you wouldn't let him fight

"oh? and who might you be?"

childe's eyes narrow in suspicion at the man standing in front of you, who now drops his hand from its initial spot on your shoulder. his blue hues turn icy cold, and without looking at him you can already feel his anger rising up inside.

"don't know how to take no from a lady?"

"i-" the man can't even respond with a single word, let alone a sentence before your boyfriend has pushed him into a corner and pinned the fabric of his shirt against the wall. there's no hesitation in his voice as threats spill from his lips.

childe snakes his free arm around your waist a little more tightly than usual, pulling you close to his chest and then unapologetically pressing a kiss to your lips, watching the figure below him squirm.

"you lay a finger on her, and you're dead."

you know he means it.

xiao

even when you're not physically together, xiao's always watching over you and ready to protect you if you ever need it

you often take commissions during the day only to return home by foot when the sun has already set and it's dark out, and knowing the dangers that may lurk on the path back to wangshu inn, xiao will be on high alert; sometimes even teleporting to a high cliff just so he can see your surroundings and have peace of mind

he notices this particular figure who is almost always trailing not far behind when you're walking home after dusk. at first he brushes it off as a coincidence, he's just too anxious because it's you, but after a week or so he knows this guy can't be just behind you every night by pure chance

one night when you return to wangshu inn, you complain to xiao that you feel like someone's following you but you can't see anyone when you turn around

xiao purses his lips into a slight pout, before repeating those words you always hear him say. "hmm... well if you are ever in danger, call out my name." he hates this feeling of knowing someone else is trying to be close to you, and making you so uncomfortable in the process

but you just smile knowing he will always be there to protect you, regardless

the next night, you feel that same presence once again, and at your call xiao is immediately by your side

he doesn't waste any time, giving the guy an abrupt lecture about how he isn't respecting the ways of the adepti. the guy probably starts worshipping xiao in fear because few mortals actually ever meet the guardian yaksha

you can hear xiao give his usual scoff. "stupid mortal. now leave." he feels like stabbing the guy right through with his spear but he knows he's only meant to kill monsters with his weapon

ah, finally, he has you to himself now

the air around you seems frighteningly still as you pick up your pace. you're waking through dihua marsh, but you can feel a presence behind you. there's the occasional crunching of leaves or the snap of a twig. this feeling is familiar- and not in a good way. you can't actually see anyone or anything near you. maybe it's because it's dark out, or maybe because someone's hiding in the trees.

ugh, maybe i'm just paranoid. there's probably nothing here. i've been hearing these noises every day for a week now, and nothing's happened to me yet.

but you recall xiao's words from the night before, and the way he seemed to be hiding something that he knew when you told him about your fears. though it seems silly, calling him when there's no apparent danger, you decide you'd feel safer with him by your side anyways.

"xiao."

as soon as his name falls from your lips, you feel the intimate whisper of the wind swirl around your form, and he is next to you in an instant. staring into his warm amber eyes, you let this sudden wave of relief and comfort wash over you.

"i'm right here."

Hi!! I'm back with another req if you don't mind. Can I req "I appreciate you for you" with toge

hope you enjoy :)

appreciation / toge inumaki x f!reader 

warnings: none :)

word count: 1748

Toge was the definition of a good boyfriend. He doted on your every need, want and desire, went above and beyond to make sure you were happy, even if it meant he missed out. It didn’t matter how many times you told him that just being him was simply enough, he had to prove to you that he was worthy of your love and affection. He couldn’t exactly tell you in words, so he promised himself to make up for it in actions. Toge was so deeply in love with you, that it often pained him that he fell short in the verbal aspect, longing to tell you how beautiful you looked with his words, and how simply honoured he was that you’d chosen him to be intimate with. All it usually took to quell his worries was your lips, telling him that you loved him, kissing him so tenderly that he was certain you’d bring a grown man to tears.

But today, not even your soft and kind ways would calm the swirling jealously he felt.

“Did you do something different with your hair?” Yuuji said as you sat scribbling away at your notebook, your other friends making small talk as you studied, “it looks nice, Y/N.”

His voice startled you a little, looking up at him like a deer in the headlights. He chuckled softly at your expression, and the appreciative smile that curled at your lips.

“Oh, yeah, I straightened it this morning. Thanks for noticing, Yuuji.”

“I wish my hair was as pretty as yours,” Nobara sighed, pressing her chin into her palm, “I can never get mine to sit right.”

As you giggled sweetly, telling Nobara she was wrong and that her hair was just as nice as the next person, you felt a hand squeeze your knee. Your attention turned to Toge, who’s eyes were down at his homework and trying to block out the compliments being poured onto you.

“I’m not one to particularly care about hairstyles,” Maki chimed in, “but your hair is always nice, Y/N. Yuuji is just a guy and can’t see something unless it’s thrown at him.”

“Hey!”

Toge squeezed your knee harder, a clear expression of irritation on his features. You placed your hand over his, gently rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. He relaxed slightly, but the tension was still evident in his face. He’d scrawled down on some paper that morning how pretty he thought you looked, styling your hair in his mirror, and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he passed it to you. You kept the piece of paper, just how you did with all the of compliments he gave you and stuffed it in your purse with the others. They were treasures, little reminders of how much he loved you, but to him it was never enough, especially when everyone else could tell you with their own voices.

Just once, he wished you could hear him say it without the worry he could hurt you.

“Thanks, guys,” you say, smiling at your friends, “you’re all so sweet.”

You laced your fingers with Toge’s, squeezing and caressing his skin. The only person not to comment, which you were rather happy about, was Megumi, who’s had an insanely obvious, raging crush on you for some time now. Nobara often poked fun, getting him all flustered when you were around and making jokes about how he couldn’t stop staring. You took it as a compliment, as Megumi was a dear friend of yours, and never made him feel uncomfortable about it. Nobara just had a special gift in that department.

“Hey, Megumi,” Nobara suddenly said, “you haven’t said Y/N looks nice today.”

The raven-haired boy’s cheeks burned crimson, his attention turning to you and your soft, ‘sorry about her’ smile. He stuttered a little, as you kicked Nobara’s shin under the table.

“That hurt!” she protested, rubbing the sore as huffing about how it was only a joke.

“You don’t have to say anything, Megumi-”

“I like it,” he interrupted, Toge’s grip on your hand like iron, “it- it suits you, Y/N.”

Nobara stifled a laugh, as you opened your mouth to tell him that there really is no need to succumb to Nobara’s teasing, when Toge got up abruptly.

“Inumaki, you good?” Yuuji asked, but Toge didn’t make any indication he’d heard him, and snatched his notebook off the table, leaving before you could even say one word.

“What’s gotten into him?” Nobara said absentmindedly, and you sighed heavily, before grabbing your things to run after him.

He just couldn’t listen to it anymore. Something as silly as a comment about how nice your hair looked had his heart and chest on fire. Why was it that everyone else, even Fushiguro, could express their appreciation for you and he couldn’t? Why did it bother him so much when all you ever did was tell him how much you loved him, and that in his own, special way, tells you how he feels?

It was just a bit too much today, it seemed.

He left campus, heading for the little flower shop in town that you loved so much. Quite often he bought you flowers, mostly your favourites, just a sweet gesture. The woman inside knew him by name now, always commenting on how lucky his girl is to have someone as lovely as him. It was a shame she had no idea just how wonderful you happened to be.

You’d searched the entire campus, to no avail. His dorm room was empty, he wasn’t in his usual places, and by the time the sun had set you were completely beat. He hadn’t replied to your abundance of text messages, which only made you worry that he was mad at you. You knew how this kind of thing affected him, and even after countless talks with Nobara, she still fuelled the fire. As much as you loved her, deep down, she was a troublemaker. The lamp on the bedside table illuminated the corner of your room that you’d couped yourself up in, laptop on your knee but your mind was not one bit interested in the work before you. Your eyes constantly fell on your phone, hoping he’d just let you know he was back, safe and sound. Then knuckles tapped against the door to your room, and your heart fell to your stomach. Scrambling out of the mound of blankets, you rushed to open it, eager to know if it was him, so you could wrap him up and kiss his sweet little face and tell him that you loved him.

Swinging the door open, you were ready to lecture him about how worried you’d been, when the bouquet of flowers in his hand stopped you. He walked in, closing the door softly behind him, and held them out to you, your favourites, in all the colours you could think of.

“Toge,” you breathed, gently brushing your fingers over the soft petals, “you didn’t have to.”

He placed two fingers under your chin, lifting your head so he could press a kiss to your mouth. You’d missed him, for the short time he’d been gone, and you kissed him back immediately, sighing into it as his hands pull you closer by the hips. His hands pushed your jumper up slightly so his thumbs could rub small circles into your sides, basking in the warmth of your skin and lips. As he pulled away, still staying close, he murmured something that almost bought you to tears.

“I love you.”

He’d never said it out loud before, out of fear that it might inflict something on you, although the words themselves had no malice in them. His ability was still difficult to understand, not even he had grasped it fully, and your safety was paramount, always, at every moment of every day. His hands cupped your face, wiping the teardrop that had escaped, kissing the skin where it was.

“I love you,” you whispered back to him, as he took the flowers from your grasp and placed them down onto the bed, pulling you back into him and pressing your foreheads together.

“My angel,” he said, voice quiet, calculating in his mind exactly how to say what he wanted to without activating his cursed speech. You just listened, letting some more happy tears fall as his kind and gentle voice filled your ears, hands holding you close to him and lips peppering kisses across your cheeks.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, kissing your jaw, neck, pulling your jumper so he could kiss your shoulder, collarbone, anywhere his lips could reach. Your hands found his hair, tangling in it, earning a quiet groan from him as your nails scratched lightly at his scalp. His presence was so comforting, everything about him was simply intoxicating, his breath hot against your skin as he mutters, “I’m sorry.”

You push him away slightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and eyes swirling with the question of why on earth he was apologising.

“Huh?” you say quietly, “why? You have nothing to be sorry for, honey.”

He brushed some hair behind your ear, eyes so full of love for you.

“Can’t say much,” he got out, struggling to find the words quick enough to say them, “to you.”

Your heart sank, knowing that he’d been upset about earlier, so he bought flowers, and had probably been planning on how to say those words to you all afternoon. It broke you that he was so angry with himself.

“Toge,” you breathed, cupping his jaw, and putting all his attention onto you, “listen to me, I love you, just the way you are. We understand one another, even without words, and I appreciate everything you do, Toge. I appreciate you for you.”

The look in eyes was almost drunk, so enamoured by you and everything that you are. So kind, so full of love for him, such a precious and beautiful soul. His lips found yours again, kissing you harder this time, his fingers gripping the hair at the nape of your neck. “I love you,” he said again, louder this time, opening his eyes to see if you were still standing there, unharmed and in his embrace.

You were, and the look of complete happiness on your face would be engraved in his mind forever.

“I love you, Inu,” you say to him, pressing a kiss to his face, “I love you, for you.”

disclaimer: I do not own jujutsu kaisen or any of the characters or storyline associated with it 

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Wishful Thinking

Fandom: Persona 5

P5 Protagonist/Joker x Fem Reader

P5 Protagonist/Joker x Sumire|Kasumi Yoshizawa/Violet

Summary: Sumire knew that she was only fooling herself from seeing the truth. Again.

One-shot

Content: Romance, unrequited love, unrequited crush, unrequited pining, angst, heartbreak, P5 Royal spoilers, established relationship, jealousy, unhappy ending.

Warnings: None.

Masterlist | AO3

Sumire realized she fell in love with him after the events of Maruki’s palace. It was just her, Joker, Crow, and you. You and the boys were able to defect against Maruki’s false reality, working together to change his heart and bring everything to normal.

She always thought you made a balanced trio. Joker and Crow always did have a rivalry that would never go away, but you’d be the one to mediate and dissolve any conflict between them. Sumire envied the maturity you had, how you knew how to handle people and situations while being such a capable fighter. In full honesty you both got along fairly well, but there seemed to be some tension between you that the redhead knew only existed because of her. And she had a feeling you were aware of that.

Akechi had also sensed it, watching your interactions. It was a skill of his, after all, he is a detective. Sumire could never tell with Akira, he always tended to keep a straight face all the time. Even when he told dry jokes and sarcastic remarks, never once did he crack.

”Th-Thank you, Joker.” Violet says, face flushed behind her mask as the noiret swooped in and pulled her away from a Shadow’s attack. Though that suddenly brought him to accidentally carrying her bridal style.

Joker responded with a nod to her. There was a warm feeling in her chest as she basked in the sensation of what it would be like to be in his arms.

”We need to get moving.” you cut in, tone empty as you walked, more like marched, passed them. Never once looking in their direction.

”I agree,” Crow voices as he followed after you. He gave Joker and Violet a side eye as he did.

The redhead turned to see the noiret’s gaze focusing on you. He immediately let her down, unexpectedly a bit rough, which startled her.

”Sorry about that.” he apologized before going after you and Crow. He knew that the young detective liked to rub him in when he could. And that included you when jealousy happened.

Violet was quiet as she trailed after the three of you. Watching how Joker’s hand reached and grasped the end of your sleeve. Not intertwining hands, but an action showing his reassurance in a gentle and slow way.

Violet hated how unnerved she felt when she saw you let Joker come closer as you both walked.

It was different with you. Akira’s expression would melt into a softer, more fonder look when you were in his sight. She could see it in the way you both fought together, the grace and strength shared between you as you took down Shadows. How he’d reach out for you in case there was any danger. And the time when the gymnast saw him kiss the back of your hand like a gentleman. Rubbing a red gloved thumb over your knuckles as he stared at you like you were all that mattered.

Sumire wanted to believe that it was all because of his alter ego, where the typical quiet and level headed Akira turned into the bold and charismatic Joker of the Phantom Thieves. She felt a connection with him when they began their friendship during the school cleanup. Akira was kind when talking to her, helping her fend off against a man who didn’t take no for an answer, who wanted to learn some gymnastic tricks, who would hear her out when she needed it, who cared even if she wasn’t her twin sister, Kasumi. Just plain ordinary Sumire Yoshizawa who loved Akira Kurusu, and she was only fooling herself to thinking that maybe a small part of him reciprocated her feelings.

”Are you alright, Sumire?” Akira asked, tilting his head at her. He was still in his green apron, working alone at Leblanc. The place wasn’t really busy, only Sumire who sat at the counter as a customer.

“Oh, I’m fine Senpai!” she brushed off quickly. “I was just lost in thought is all!”

He lets out a nod in response, going over to dry some of the mugs. She found it nice to see him work.

”Hey Joker!” Morgana called out, coming down the stairs. “Lady (Y/N) left a text for you.”

The noiret turns his head to the feline, stopping his task. “What’d she say?”

”She wanted to know if your study date is still on.” answered Morgana as he leaped onto the counter.

”Then I’ll let her know.” says Akira before looking to Sumire. “Do you mind watching the café for a second? There aren’t any customers right now but just in case…”

”It’s no trouble at all!” the young gymnast replied, shaking her head. “I’d be happy to.”

“Thanks.” he voiced appreciatively, going up the steps.

”Young love, right?” the black cat spoke to her while staring at the staircase. “I swear this guy is ridiculously whipped. You should see him when he calls her. He gets that dopey smile on his face.”

”Ah…” Sumire trails off, a wavered grin spreading her lips. “They fit together, don’t they?”

”You have no idea.” Morgana sighed out, tired of always being the one to see the sappiness of your relationship.

Sumire’s chest feels tight, causing her hand to go over it, gripping the fabric of her shirt.

When the redhead found out she was falling for the leader of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, it made her try to act braver with her actions, hoping he’d pick up on it. But she knew it was pointless when all he saw was you. Who easily touched Akira like second nature, holding hands, caressing his arm, standing side by side. And he did the same, wrapping an arm around your waist when a Shadow went to strike you, how open and comfortable he was with talking to you. He showed a more bolder part of himself, flirting and giving you more of his attention.

When Sumire was in her thief getup, she almost thought she saw his eyes trail over her thighs, bare from the black leotard and boots. It made her flush when she thought about it.

She wasn’t really one of them, a member of his group. Though she was always welcomed to help them out. Violet had a fluttery sensation in her chest when she noticed how much she and Joker matched in their outfits: three long black tailcoats, red gloves, reverse coloured masks. She wondered if that was such a coincidence.

Then she’d see you and realize it wasn’t just them. Your attire complimented well with his just as much as hers. Sumire remembers how Ann would tease how you and Akira were like a couple. Ryuji would join in, and Haru would fawn over how you behaved as one. Sumire wanted to consider it all playful banter, however the tightness in her chest said otherwise.

Going to the park, she learned the hard truth. The first-year was frozen in place when she saw Akira lean down to you, a deep kiss shared between you. You had one hand tangled in his messy black locks, the other over his neck. While his was around your waist, the other on the small of your back.

Sumire felt like she couldn’t move, her heart seemed to plummet to the ground. Luckily, she was not in both of your lines of vision. Things would’ve been more awkward if she was. The redhead was close enough to where she could hear the words Akira was saying to you.

”I love you, Treasure.” the noiret said, voice entirely sincere as his face was inches away from yours. With him pushing a strand of hair away from your face.

The pet name struck a hit to Sumire. How funny was that, a thief who steals Treasures in the Metaverse calling a lover that. That proved how much Akira felt for you.

A giggle escapes you as he nudges his nose against yours. “Always a charmer, huh?”

”Only for you.” he grins.

Finally, Sumire’s body was able to move, and she didn’t hesitate to run off in her previous direction. Who was she kidding? She never stood a chance, and she felt horrible that she was trying to push you apart when you’ve loved each other before she even came into the picture.

Once Sumire had stopped, she rested her hands on her knees as she panted. “Why do I keep doing that?” she whispers to herself. “Wanting something that isn’t mine to take…”

First Kasumi’s spotlight, now Akira himself? Sumire put her hands to her face, feeling her eyes water and her breathing hitch. Her heart sinking and turning as she thought back to the memory of you two. All the signs were there, yet she chose to blindly ignore them all. You didn’t deserve to be hurt all because she was greedy. She really had it coming, so she deemed that the throbbing ache in her heart was fitting for trying to steal Akira from you. And Sumire has to come to terms with the fact that he’ll never love her the way he does for you and the way she does him.

Hi, I was wondering if I could request Hiei going back to the human world to visit his s/o? (Post season 4 tournament) thank you

i love this prompt and had to jump on it the moment i saw it in my inbox. hope i did it justice!

set immediately after the last episode.

homebound (hiei x gender neutral!reader, yu yu hakusho)

You’re exhausted by the time you return from the beach, your skin tender and salt-sore from the long hours you and the group had spent playing in the water. It had been a fun day - a peaceful day, and you had grown to count each day like it as a gift. 

It had been nice to have the group together again. Even Genkai had joined you at one point, though none of Yusuke’s playful urging had succeeded in coaxing her into the water.

Your smile gains a wistful edge as you remember Keiko’s joy upon Yusuke’s return. She had refused to sit and pine while he was gone, but it was clear to everyone how much she’d missed him. 

You can admit, at least in the privacy of your own thoughts, to feeling a little heartsore after witnessing their reunion. You had hoped that a certain fire apparition would follow Yusuke home from demon world, and had been unable to curb the disappointment you’d felt as the day lengthened and there was still no sign of Hiei.

You sigh, toeing off your shoes and dropping your bag by the door. You had done your best to ignore your unhappiness at Hiei’s absence, not wanting to sour the air on such a joyous day, but you knew at least Kurama and Botan had picked up on it, the former having walked you home despite it being out of his way and the latter spending most of the day glued to your side, doing her utmost to keep you distracted.

Now that you’re alone with nothing but your thoughts, though, it’s difficult to stave off your melancholy, your body and mind too wearied by the events of the day to divert from the missing fire apparition.

You don’t know what you expected. Just because Yusuke and Kurama had chosen to return to living world didn’t mean Hiei would make the same choice, not even for you. It hurt to acknowledge, but it was the truth. You’re just human, after all, and Hiei had been barred from demon world for so long, he might never want to leave it now that he’d returned.

Your skin stings as you slip into bed, foregoing a shower in favor of slipping into comfortable pajamas and tugging your blankets over your shoulders. Heat blossoms along your arms and legs, but it’s a pale imitation of the warmth you’ve missed, and you blow out a breath, closing your eyes in defiance against your spiraling thoughts.

Pathetic, you think, and it’s laughably ironic that the voice in your head sounds exactly like Hiei’s. 

*

It’s late into the night when you blink your eyes open, staring in muddled confusion at your bedroom wall.

Other than the small sliver of moonlight creeping through your curtains the room is dark, and there’s a line of heat against your back that wasn’t there when you first slipped into bed.

“You smell like salt.”

Your heart leaps in your chest. 

“You would too if you’d been at the beach all day,” you mumble sleepily, hiding your smile in the warmth of your pillow.

There are fingers spread loosely over your stomach, warmth bleeding through your shirt to sink into your skin. You reach for them, tangling them with yours, and feel inordinately pleased when Hiei allows the gesture without comment.

You don’t ask why he’s there, or why he had chosen now of all times to return. You don’t ask him when he’s leaving, because you know he’s not here to stay. 

You don’t say anything at all, actually. You just breathe in the dark, your fingers moving gingerly against his. There are more calluses there than you remember, though everything else feels the same - the sharp bends of his knees tucked beneath yours, the texture of his hair against the back of your neck, the heat radiating from his body. 

You want to turn over, but the thought of actually seeing him - of him seeing you -  scares you to death. It’s been two years. You haven’t changed much, but you have changed. Would it matter? Would he care?

“Your thoughts are louder than that oaf.”

You laugh a little, his acerbic wit - well-missed, and still as prickly as ever - serving to put you at ease.

“Kuwabara misses you, you know,” you tell him, knowing without needing to look that his lips have twisted into a scowl. 

He doesn’t refute your claim, though. Instead, you feel the tip of his nose brush against the back of your neck. “And you?”

You blink in the darkness, confused and almost angry. He can’t really be asking if you’d missed him, can he? 

You’ve been gone for two years, you want to say. I've been waiting follows quickly after, though you manage to restrain both to the cage of your throat, and no further. 

“Idiot,” you mutter instead. 

“Fool.” It’s little more than a breath against the nape of your neck, and still you flush beneath its weight. You’ve heard that moniker more than once - usually directed at Kuwabara - but you've certainly never heard it in that tone, wrapped up in a layer of what you might dare to call affection.

Quiet affection, but affection nonetheless. 

It emboldens you. Loosens your tongue.

“Thought you’d forgotten about me.” It’s an admission that you’d kept secret from all except yourself, not wanting to deal with the pity or platitudes - no matter how well-meant - the others would give you if they knew. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then another, and another. You would think him gone if it weren’t for the fingers still tangled with yours.

But then there’s softness against the back of your neck, a hint of wetness followed by a sudden sharp sting. 

“Did you just - ?” you mumble, attempting to reach back to feel the mark he’d just left on you - the bite he’d just given you. 

But Hiei doesn’t let you get far, his grip firming around your hand and his arm tightening around your waist. 

“Foolish,” he mutters, his brow pressed against the back of your shoulder. The warmth of his breath seeps through your shirt and leaves a circle of heat on your skin. “Do not mistake my absence for apathy. My… intentions have not changed.” 

It’s as close to a declaration as you’ll ever get from the prickly fire apparition, and in truth, no flowery praise or fervent confession would have affected you half as much as Hiei quietly dispelling your worst fear.

You would say something if you had the words, but you’re afraid that if you speak, your voice will do something embarrassing like crack or break right down the middle. So instead, you pull Hiei’s hand up to your lips and press a kiss to his knuckles.

“Hn.” His voice is little more than a huff, his fingers twitching in your grip, and you grin against his skin.

And just like that, the words come. 

“Welcome home.”