CUTTTEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
CUTTTEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
blossoming love
synopsis: sae is not good with words, so he communicates with flowers instead. / or, every time itoshi sae gave you a bouquet in significant moments.
pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 2.9k | warnings: fluffy fluff, tiny bit of angst if u squint, rin and sae’s relationship isn’t fucked up, kinda proofread, ooc sae maybe? i love him tho, its really just three thousand words of him talking about love
notes: this idea has been on my mind for a while since i adore the language of flowers, and even tho sae is probably ooc, i really liked the final result ♥ also i'm trying a new layout so lmk if y'all like it~ and finally thank u so much for 2.5k followers, i love you all sm!!
masterlist
i. sunflowers for a confession
never has itoshi sae been so painfully aware of his flaws and limitations quite like the day he realized he liked you as more than a friend. because, even though he wasn’t the type of guy to wait for the universe to give him everything he wished for, anyone within three miles could see how absolutely awful he was at communicating.
so that was the dilemma: how could he express his feelings to you if the words just didn’t come out?
“flowers.”
“huh?”
rin was sitting at the couch in their parent’s home, a paused horror movie on the tv. sae didn’t even notice he started mumbling and spilling his secret crush to the younger itoshi, and the tips of his ears went red at that. he was supposed to be the smooth, suave, aloof kind of guy that gave his little brother some love advice, and not the other way around.
(not as if any of them had some kind of experience. emotional intelligence didn’t really run in the bloodline.)
“just give them flowers, nii-chan. did you know each of them has meanings? it could help you express yourself.”
“you mean like… the language of flowers or some shit?”
rin rolled his eyes, but nodded.
“just try not to use ‘some shit’. i don’t think they’re into that,” he joked, and sae could only grimace and send him the middle finger.
but as much as he didn’t want to admit, his brother was right. you were special, and you deserved the best he could give — even if it wasn’t much. he was going to learn how to be better for you, but meanwhile, the language of flowers should suffice.
the first time you receive a bouquet from itoshi sae, they are beautiful blooms of sunflowers, expressing his adoration towards you. the small card that comes with it has a simple question:
go out with me?
ii. white gardenias and the start of something new
your first date with the pro-footballer is something simple yet sophisticated, a dinner at a famous restaurant he rented just for you two. the dim lights make everything more romantic, and your heart is beating so loud you’re afraid sae might hear it from the other side of the table. despite the euphoria that leaves you nearly breathless, you manage to talk during the night while he mostly just listens.
itoshi sae is not familiar with dates — not actual ones, at least —, so to say he was nervous was an understatement. however, he hid it well behind his nonchalant persona, even if meant avoid talking just so he didn’t fuck things up.
sae was never a talker, anyway. and it was long ago he figured he’d rather listen to the sound of your voice and drown in the image of your sparkly eyes every time you were excited about something.
when dinner is over and sae drives to drop you home, you’re a little shocked to see him take another flower arrangement from the floor of the backseat, just hidden enough so you didn’t notice during your ride. the petals are a pure white color with beautiful twirls, and you can’t help but gape.
“is that… is that for me?”
sae wants to scream, because of course they are for you — who else could they be for? as if he’d ever look at anyone when you’re the brightest light shining on his life.
inevitably, you’re all itoshi sae can see.
“they are gardenias,” he simply says, fighting the heat that climbs through his neck. he pushes the bouquet a little more towards you. “they made me think of you.”
your chest swells with affection, and the sweet aroma of the blooms mixed with sae’s perfume makes you a little dizzy. you only realize how close he is when his nose touches yours, hands grazing your left cheek as if you’re something fragile that he’s scared to break.
but he kisses you anyway. his mouth is delicate against yours, trying to convey his longing as a complement to the flowers on your hold.
when your lips part and you finally say goodbye, you’re certain that sae has blossomed an entire garden in your heart. starting with the white gardenias that mean new beginnings, affection and a revelation of a secret love.
iii. blue hyacinths for an apology
sae knows how much of an asshole he can be. contrary to popular belief, he knows how sharp his words can feel and how mean his voice can sound. even if he wasn’t exactly self aware, his brother rin would sure be able to spit it to his face every time they argued.
it wasn’t like he always meant it. sure, he didn’t care about his behavior towards the media or people he found particularly annoying (pretty much everyone), but there were people in his life that he cherished; people he didn’t want to hurt. the thing is, itoshi sae was just really, really awkward when it came to his own emotions, and he was the worst at saying how he felt.
it’s a few months into your relationship that sae learns he would rather never play football again than make you cry. it’s a silly argument, really — he doesn’t even remember what he gets so worked up for. maybe it’s jet lag that makes him lash out on you, but it doesn’t really matter when he sees your eyes glisten and a little sniffle comes out of your lips.
“i’m s-sorry,” you say, uneasy in a way that makes his stomach churn. he wants to wipe that expression off your face, and beat himself up for being the one who put it there.
him and his stupid ass mouth, as rin would say.
“what? why are you saying that?” his tone is more exasperated than he intends to, and god, why can’t he just shut the fuck up?
“i didn’t mean to annoy you or make things harder… i know you’re tired from your game and i… i’m sorry, sae.”
he should be the one apologizing for being an idiot, he knows; but the words are so foreign to his system that sae doesn’t even know how to put the letters together. it’s only when you pick up your stuff and leave his apartment without another word that the pro-player is shaken out of his stupor.
“fuck,” he curses under his breath. “fucking hell, sae.”
he hates that he hurt you, hates that he doesn’t know how to fix it and hates it even more that his little brother lectures him on the phone later that day, when he calls to vent.
“you already were a shitty brother, so don’t be a shitty boyfriend too,” are rin’s exact words.
okay, ouch. kinda stings, but he figures he deserves it.
it’s almost 9pm when sae goes to your house, two bags of your favorite treats resting on his forearm while he holds the carefully chosen bouquet. the surprise on your face when you open the door makes his heart reel, though the glimmer of happiness is what makes it all worth it.
“i messed up”, is what he says as soon as he can before you decide to kick him out. “i didn’t mean to snap at you like that and… i’m sorry. i never want to hurt you.”
you take the blue hyacinths from his grasp and look at them fondly before smiling, and sae thinks the sun is shining again. he’s eternally grateful you understand the sincerity and the regret that comes from those tiny petals.
iv. red roses and the epiphanic awareness of love
journalists from all around the world are well aware of how much itoshi sae hates interviews. it is always pretty clear with the bored — if not extremely annoyed — expression on his face and the rude answers that make anyone break a cold sweat. he doesn’t like stupid questions (all of them) and much less when the press tries to meddle in his personal business.
it wasn’t new to be asked about his romantic relationships, and this particular topic was something that made sae scowl and diss whatever nosy, lukewarm journalist decided to pry to earn a penny. by now, everyone knows that inquiring if the midfielder is dating anyone is forbidden territory.
still, the media keeps trying to find small loopholes in what they really want to know, questions safe enough to not enrage the itoshi. it’s one of those that makes sae’s world come to a halt in the middle of a press conference in italy.
“itoshi, can you tell us about the things you love most in life?”
his brain instantly shuts down, and suddenly, sae is no longer in a room with hundreds of microphones and cameras shoved on his face, but instead in a cozy little picnic at the beach with you by his side.
if he was being honest, sae never really thought about things like love for most of his life; and not just the romantic one, but love as a whole. sure, he knew he loved his parents and his little brother, but they were parts of his life he didn’t choose, almost as if those feelings were meant to be there ever since he was born.
thinking about his life growing up, he could never really tell if what he felt was ‘love’ or just ‘like’. did he love soccer? did he love salted kombucha tea? did he love the beach? or were all these things temporary fulfillments that could end at any minute? this feeling was such a difficult concept for sae that he never bothered to actually search for answers.
but you’ve been dating for seven months now — and sae simply knows, as a universal truth written down his bones, that the feelings he has for you are too otherworldly to fit inside the mere perception of ‘like’. liking you doesn’t do justice to the way his heart leaps and his chest is filled with happiness and peace and anxiousness and euphoria all at once whenever he thinks of you.
it’s the strangest epiphany of the century, he thinks, but that is the exact moment itoshi sae is sure you are the sole definition of love.
he loves you. he loves you the most in life.
and even if life is hard, because the world always is, loving you amongst this chaos is the easiest thing sae has ever done.
so when he comes back from his trip and you stay over at his penthouse, he tries to demonstrate this overflowing feeling when he touches you and kisses you and makes you fall apart just to put you back together. and when the morning comes and you paddle to the kitchen for breakfast, he is there holding the prettiest bunch of classical red roses with the faintest blush on his face.
you’re beautiful even with your unruly hair and bleary eyes, and sae is certain he will never get tired of seeing you smile for him.
with his throat clogged with emotion, the words don’t come out. but you take the flowers in your gentle embrace and kiss him with such fondness and infatuation that he can’t help but wish you understand the deep, unconditional love he feels for you.
“i love you too, baby.”
and thankfully, you always do.
v. pink camellias for longing
longing wasn’t a feeling sae was particularly used to.
when he left japan at the ripe age of 14, the first few months were especially harsh, since he was in a foreign country with a totally different language and culture. sae found himself missing the place he grew up, not so much for the place itself, but for the comfort its familiarity could bring. he missed rin, too.
but as time passed and itoshi sae transformed, he stopped viewing japan and everything it had as his home, solely becoming a wandering soul in the big, cruel world. the athlete, then, longed for nothing but to be the best.
however, he realized that life as he knew would never be the same after falling in love with you, for those feelings were strong as tidal waves, all-consuming and capable of changing everything in its course.
everytime he was away, sae really fucking missed you.
“how long will you be gone for?”
even before he left.
“…a month.”
his voice is low and slightly hesitant. you’re together on the living room couch, watching a shitty rom-com movie that sae hates but always watches because it’s your favorite. his arms are around you while your back rests against his chest, and he feels a little dizzy — whether it’s from your sweet perfume or the fear inside of him, he doesn’t quite know.
though he will never admit it, the midfielder is always scared whenever he has to leave for longer periods of time. because what if you get tired of him? what if you start feeling so alone and neglected you end up hating him? the thought alone is enough to make him want to throw up.
you turn around to face him, and the little pout of your lips suddenly has him feeling sick.
“so long? you really have to?”
he sighs, because yeah, unfortunately, he does have to stay that long to follow the team along the season. even if he’d rather stay with you and just fly near game days.
“yeah. i’m sorry, mi amor.”
sae lets you turn around fully and adjust yourself on his lap, each leg sitting comfortably around his hips. both of his hands are immediately holding on your waist, as if afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t.
“don’t apologize, handsome. i know it’s your job. i’m just gonna miss you a lot.”
he has the urge to kiss your sullen look away, and it’s exactly what he does. his lips touch yours with the same tenderness they always do, but there’s a certain urgency in the way his mouth moves and his tongue carefully glides with yours, as if he’s trying to convey just how much more he will miss you.
because although no one would ever believe him, he always misses you more.
“i wish i could stay here with you,” he says when you part, and the little bashful smile you give him makes his heart soar.
“but you love what you do, though.”
yeah, but i love you more. the thought is something that has been plaguing his mind during the nearly two years you’ve been together, because sae never expected to have something — or rather someone — who would become his entire world quite like how you do. it’s frightening and dreadful and not what he wished for himself, but sae can’t say that he hates it. there’s nothing about you or the gentleness of your love that he can hate.
that’s why when the time of his trip comes, a beautiful bouquet of pink camellias is placed on your kitchen island, and you know it’s his way of showing his longing for you.
vi. amaranthus and the promise of forever
even if many people disagree, sae knows he is always right. it’s how he knew you were the one even before he had you, and more so even before he realized he wanted you. somehow, it’s always been a truth his mind couldn’t ignore.
it’s on a lazy sunday morning at your shared apartment that itoshi sae is taken by a sudden urge of asking you to marry him.
there’s nothing extraordinary about the scenery; just you making him a snack after waking up from your — now shared — 3pm nap, hair tied in a bun, swaying your hips while stirring the food on the frying pan. he hugs you from behind and rests his head on your shoulder, nosing at the crook of your neck in an attempt to absorb all that you are. you giggle with the ticklish feeling, and the warmth that spreads through his chest somehow doesn’t feel weird anymore.
somehow, it’s now something he deeply cherishes. sae can only describe being with you as pure bliss.
and he’s always been selfish, a true egoist to its core. it’s why he’s faced with his deepest desire to have the honor of spending a lifetime by your side, if only you’ll have him.
he’s had the ring for a while now, hidden behind several socks in his drawer. it might as well be the time, he thinks; a lazy sunday afternoon that has nothing grandiose. sae was never one for big gestures anyway.
so when you both finish eating, sae tells you he’ll be out for a jog, and you just hum with your pretty smile. his heart is beating abnormally fast when he goes to the flower shop, and by the time he’s back home, he thinks it might just explode.
but this… you are it for him, he’s certain. the same way he was certain four years ago, when your love started to blossom until it became the prettiest garden.
and when sae is down on one knee asking the most important question of his life, ring box in one hand and the bouquet of amaranthus on the other, the teary smile and whispered “yes” you give makes him certain that, no matter what, your love will be eternal.
© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.
More Posts from Violetesensou and Others
I FINALLY FOUND D MASTER LIST OML
your bestfriend’s twin brother 😱
pairing: Aether x fem!reader
genre: modern college au, fluff, crack, smau
summary: You have a pretty normal life, going to the same college as your bestfriend Lumine and your other friends, having average grades and having a good relationship with everyone you know. Well, everyone except your bestfriend’s twin brother, Aether. Even though you’ve known Lumine since your first year in highschool, he always seemed to be avoiding you. The only times you did get to see him was when he was around Lumine. Once he spots you, he always run off, but why does his face seem red? Who knows.
Now, it was your second year in college and you’ve decided enough is enough. You’ve made it your goal to become friends with your bestfriend’s twin brother before the year ends. It can’t be that hard, right? But wait.. why are you catching feelings 🤨
author’s note: my first smau so pls don’t judge 💀 mostly going to be fluff and crack, probably ooc, i doubt there will be angst, unless?? also i have not seen smaus about Aether so this might just be me trying to self-indulge 🫣
status: ongoing [17 Nov 22- ??]
Profiles: no bitches | short kings + child
Act 1: From strangers to friends
01: new year, new me
02: bad feeling
03: first day ♤
04: wikihow | 4.5: besto friendo
05: apologies
06: friendly “hangout” ♤
07: blossoming friendship
08: it’s quiet… too quiet
09: idiots, idiots everywhere
10: downpour ♤
11: are we friends? ♤ | 11.5: thank me ! !
Act 2: To thinking about you everyday
12: new hangout buddy
13: you’re never this nice to me :/
14: too nice for your own good
15: denial era
16: lumine the thirdwheel ♤
17: we need to talk | 17.5: please shut the fuck up
18: so it’s a “date” ?
19: just act normal ♤
20: separated shenanigans ♤
21: mixed feelings? can’t relate lol
22: she can’t hold you back
23: just make up your mind bro
24: everyone wants me fr
25: maybe i’m just a fool for you ♤ | 25.5: move your flat ass
Act 3: I think i’m in…. love?
26: questionable decisions….
27: GIRL WRONG ACCOUNT
28: how the turns have tabled
29: OPERATION AETHERYN STARTS NOW
30: W rizz
31: party night
32: how to stay sober challenge: failed ♤
33: drunk night confessions, am i right? ♤
34: you like me? ♤ | 34.5: first time? 🔞 ♤
35: #shipsailed, now don’t get caught ♤
Act 4: Can’t believe I’m yours now
36: down bad
37: you’re weird | 37.5: suspicious behaviour
38: don’t get caught challenge: failed ♤
39: fight! fight! fight!
40: maybe we need to think about this
41: stop moping around and apologise ffs
42: sorry. ♤
43: don’t be a pussy
44: i want you ♤
45: to my dear bestfriend
bonus: ??
Fin
tag list - open |•| send an ask to be added to the tag list
Hi hi, i saw that requests are open so can i ask for Diasomnia reacting to reader being a dragon rider like the Targaryens please? Reader’s dragon is also super aggressive to anyone that isn’t her rider.
DIASOMNIA X READER
Where you are a dragon rider
Malleus literally blinks twice when he sees you flying in on a dragon just as big or even bigger than him.
I mean… how come he wasn't warned there was another powerful dragon in the region?!
He stands there, arms crossed, watching you land, your cape flapping and the dragon breathing fire as a warning.
"Interesting creature…"
…and you can't tell if he means you or the dragon.
He tries. He really does. He approaches you with all his fae princely elegance, but the dragon immediately blows smoke out of its nostrils.
"Don't worry. I'm used to being feared… though they don't usually bare their fangs so quickly."
A little offended, but even more intrigued
He's fascinated that you can control such a temperamental creature. He looks at you with respect and mild infatuation.
"Could it be that you can control this dragon too…?" he says, pointing at himself with a smile 💀💀
He's amused when the dragon roars at him if he tries to get too close to you.
"Are you that jealous, old friend? Can't you see I just want to talk to your rider?"
The best part is when you stroke his arm, easing the tension, and Malleus gives the dragon a triumphant look as if to say, "She's touching me, and you can't help it."
He's not bothered that the dragon doesn't want him around. In fact, he takes it as a romantic challenge.
"In time, he'll accept it… just as I've accepted that my heart burns when I see you."
10/10 rizzler Malleus.
Sebek watches you descend from the sky with that imperial air, wrapped in fire, ash, and the wind blowing… and the first thing he thinks is:
“A WARRIOR WORTHY OF SERVING MY LORD MALLEUS!”
Seriously he's so impressed he's speechless for a few seconds.
Which, considering it's Sebek, is quite a feat.
The way you control that enormous beast with a single command, the way the dragon turns its head to follow your every step… it's terrifying, majestic, and wonderful for his sense of honor and discipline.
A flash of flame two feet away from him. Your dragon barks a warning that leaves him paralyzed, his hair standing on end and his pride trembling.
BUT… then he tries to get closer. Like a good bodyguard knight, he wants to make sure you're not a threat to Mal. He takes one step. Another. And then…
“U-UNACCEPTABLE!! HOW DARE THIS CREATURE THREATEN A FAITHFUL SERVANT OF MALLEUS-SAMA!?”
It takes him weeks to stop yelling at the dragon.
But he keeps trying. With his chest puffed out, he tries every diplomatic method he knows to get close without getting charred.
He speaks to it as if it were a troop:
“Listen to me, scaly creature! I seek no harm to your rider! I am here to protect her in the name of honor!”
He fails. Mostly.
The dragon hates him, especially because he screams so much and has such intense energy.
Still, Sebek respects you greatly. He says only someone with an unbreakable will and a soul forged in fire could tame such a beast. He even starts training harder to “be worthy of a dragon rider.”
Sometimes he gets jealous of the dragon tho.
“Why can that creature always be by her side and I can't?! It's not fair, damn it, it can't even speak like a decent knight!”
Over time, Sebek begins to see the dragon not just as an obstacle, but as a symbol of your power. And while he'll never bow his head to the creature, he will accept that it's part of your honor, your life, and your heart.
Silver sees you fly for the first time when he wakes up to the sound of wings. He looks up, half asleep… and gasps.
It's like seeing a dream. A colossal creature soaring through the sky with fire behind it, and you riding it like a goddess of war.
When you land and walk with that serene air, while your dragon protects your back like a jealous guardian, Silver feels something inside him…
as if he's recognized your soul before. As if he's already dreamed of you.
"You're like the legends my father told me when I was a child…"
He tries to get closer. With calm steps, without raising his voice, with soft eyes.
But your dragon doesn't allow it. He steps between you two, growls… and immediately throws a flame at the ground a few steps from Silver.
The funny thing is that Silver doesn't get angry. He just bows his head and apologizes, respectfully.
"I understand… you're looking out for her. And that's okay."
Of course, every time he sees you, your dragon watches him as if evaluating him. Silver stays still, let it smell him, doesn't defend himself. He's willing to slowly earn your trust.
In fact, there's a precious moment when Silver accidentally falls asleep near you, and your dragon… doesn't attack him.
He lets him be. He watches him, even shades him with one of his wings.
When you wake up and see that, you realize your dragon has silently accepted it.
If there's ever a battle, Silver is ready to fight by your side. He won't ride your dragon, because he respects the sacred bond you have, but he will walk in your shadow, sword in hand, confident that you and your creature are the closest he's ever come to the fantasy he dreamed of as a child.
Lilia sees the dragon snarling, breathing fire into the air, and you sitting on its back as if you were on your throne. And his first reaction is,
"How cute! Look at those sharp little teeth! And that temper! I love it! He does look like Malleus when he was still in his shell, baby boy~"
The dragon blows a flame at him, and Lilia… laughs.
“Ohhh, you sure know how to give a warm welcome! You're so polite!”
Unlike the others, he doesn't get offended or frustrated. he treats it like a game.
Sometimes he even brings the dragon fresh meat as an offering, though she only drops it from a safe distance.
“Now, now, don't be so cold. I promise I won't eat your rider… unless she wants it.”
Please tell me I didn't just write that.
But seriously, deep down, Lilia admires you greatly. Your bravery, your connection with a wild creature, your strength and grace… he finds it all fascinating. And yes, sometimes he casts flirtatious glances at you from afar while your dragon jealously watches
"Do I also have to win over your guardian to win you over, my dear?"
MY MODEL: cover page
jing yuan x gn!reader || smau
SYNOPSIS: seems like the Xianzhou has hired a freelance photographer to help with their new magazine. however, this model seems to have fallen head over heels for a certain photographer - what exactly is their story?
CONTAINS: he fell first they fell harder trope, fluff, crack, humor, swearing, slight angst,
SPECIAL FEATURES || broke bitches || one braincell
╰ PRIV FEATURES || fight on sight || suffering.
˙. ☆ : FRONT
PG.01 - booked!
PG.02 - another model?
PG.03 - models for a reason
PG.04 - found you
PG.05 - plus one
PG.06 - rizzler
PG.07 - i will fight you
PG.08 - rizzless
˙. ☆ : CONTENT
PG.09 - one chance
PG.10 - i never fuck up
PG.11 - 2 week free trial?
PG.12 - i’m working, bitch
PG.13 - clout
PG.14 - cut short
PG.15 - priv pls
PG.16 - my one and only
PG.17 - extension?
PG.18 - are you fr rn
PG.19 - me>>>
PG.20 - it’s for the aesthetics
˙. ☆ : HIGHLIGHTS
PG.21 - walmart sponser
PG.22 - wish it were me
PG.23 - purr ig
PG.24 - another booking
PG.25 - soft
PG.26 - square up
PG.27 - omg! a meet-up?
PG.28 - pretty privelage
˙ . ☆ : CREDITS
PG.29 - st3llaronhunters
PG.30 - ending night
EDITORS NOTES: jing yuan please come back. I will treat you right I swear
TAGLIST: @zyphyrr @ohmyfinggod @not-creativequill @klementime @nekobluecute @theautisticduck @aixaingela @kokoki @imma-too-many-fandoms @ceylestia @lunavixia @queencybow @arraxthatsonjah @kiiyoooo @immahuman @ksnu @mikarasuge @kamikokii @rain-and-a-nice-nap @havingnonamesucks @forsh4dow @boomie-123 @ukiyo-ikigai @ratiolove @whatamoodhoney @xiaossocksniffer @sxftiebee @poemzcheng @yawnzbf @organeatter [ if you want to be added, send me an ask or feel free to comment! ]
✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙
✦❘༻𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙼𝚢 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝༺❘✦
Malleus Draconia x fem!reader
Summary: Congratulations! Out of all the noble ladies that were in line to become a princess and soon-to-be queen consort, you had been chosen. Oh, what's this? But you aren't married off to your kingdom and is, in fact, married to another country whom raged war with yours for decades on end?
You find yourself face-to-face with an enemy of your homeland, hands held in marriage and surrounded in a pretty little illusion of a happy wedding with flowers and smiles of all whom watched. You begin to wonder if your life had already ended the moment you stepped foot outside your homeland, taking a gulp at the frightening look on the prince of this twisted kingdom that you'll be ruling alongside him. Maybe you should try to get to know him and make peace.. Maybe he might turn out to be not so scary after all.
⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱
Chapter 1 - The Beginning of an End
Chapter 2 - The Day I've Been Betrothed
Chapter 3 - Teas, Cakes, and the Sleeping Beauty
Chapter 3.5 - A Step Into the Social Circle
•••
⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱
Tags: If you wish to be notified when I upload a chapter, please let me know in the comment section of this post.
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✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙
─── 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍-𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏
+ michael kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, kaiser is persistent lol, making out, suggestive
notes: idk babes …. hopefully i didn’t butcher him <3 running back to sae after this 🫡 kaiser lovers, enjoy the one and only kaiser fic on my blog !! hehe
summary: kaiser has more reason to visit his regular cafe spot now. and he’s not gonna quit until he makes you his.
kaiser thinks you’re pretty.
call him stupid or superficial or whatever, but he can’t help it. he walks over to the far end of the counter where you’re working, staring intently at the latte art you’re doing.
it’s horrible. you’re probably new. figures, because he lives right above in the apartment complex and he’s never seen you here before. it’s a damn crime.
“i want a flat white cappuccino, hot, and could you make it with a heart on top?”
you furrow your brows and look up at him, his elbows propped on the stainless steel countertop, cheeky smirk filling his face. you continue wearing your straight expression as you go back to the task at hand.
“i’m not the waiter. you can ask mimiko, she’s the one at the register.”
kaiser doesn’t know her either. she must be new too.
you’re not that friendly. not that kaiser minds; he’ll break through your walls. that’s his personal challenge. he’ll do it.
“but i wanna talk to you.”
still unamused, you sigh and look at him, putting down your frother.
“get in line.”
“hey y/n!”
kaiser’s still optimistic after the failed fifth attempt. he managed to get your name from mimiko when you finally made him go away that first day he saw you. to which you groaned, but kaiser only grinned.
today’s no different. you frown when he walks in, immediately relegating to the back corner of the bar. too bad though, kaiser’s got charms, he’s made quick friends with everyone else here plus he has the famous soccer player privilege so your other colleagues love him.
that’s why he manages to get behind the counter in no time, saying he’ll help work the register. but really, he has no clue what to do and he’s just dilly-dallying around you.
“no, real talk, why do you hate me so much?” kaiser asks, not really bothered but more curious.
you don’t even take him seriously. you’ve looked at him probably about twice this entire day, and one time wasn’t even by choice; it was only because kaiser was blocking your path to the fridge and wouldn’t budge unless you said please. (you didn’t. you just glared at him until he moved.)
“i don’t like your hair.”
“hey, what’s wrong with my hair?”
you shrug. “just don’t like it.”
“okay but what about my tattoos, you like those right?”
kaiser moves to adjust his shirt to let you see but you walk off.
“not really.”
he sighs, you’re really hard to get close to, he’ll give you that. but he’s not one to give up.
before kaiser can say anything else, a bunch of girls from the counter call your name, and he sees you smile for the first time since he’s met you and he feels even more hooked on you.
the control you have over him is pretty insane, and it’s only because kaiser allows it.
you and your friends talk about normal stuff. they’re asking how work’s going and you say it’s fine—just that there’s an annoying guy that won’t quit talking to you.
“wow, fifth date and you’re already telling your friends about me?” kaiser interjects, putting an arm around your shoulder and greeting your friends. he’s positive you’re seething right now, but he continues on. “hey there, you can call me kaiser.”
as your friends blush and introduce themselves, all kaiser notices is how you don’t push him away like you always used to upon first contact. so hey, maybe he is making progress after all.
“so, barista y/n l/n, what’re your plans for today?”
it’s been two months since you started working in the cafe, and it’s been two months since kaiser’s relentless pursuit. he’s not backing down though.
“well, player michael kaiser, that’s none of your business,” you absentmindedly respond as you clean the glass in your hand with the cloth and put it back up on the shelf.
lucky for him, mimiko is on his side.
“our dear y/n has a blind date tonight,” she coos, getting a sigh out of you and winking at kaiser.
“first of all, i’m not a player,” kaiser makes sure to tell you, hurriedly making his way behind the counter as if he owns the place. “second of all, who’s the guy?”
you press your lips into a firm line and repeat yourself, “none of your business, kaiser.”
“but it is.”
“why the hell would it be?”
kaiser pouts. “because i like you.”
it takes you a while to respond, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i’ve been nothing but mean to you, you sure you’re not just a masochist?”
that’s a blatant lie, kaiser knows. he knows you’re not actually mean, you just have a sharp tongue.
kaiser notices how you notice him—placing three sugars in his coffee and doing it for him whenever you make it. adding to that; you personally make all of kaiser’s drinks instead of handing it to the other barista, and you make little hearts on top. (at first he thought you might’ve really wanted to poison him, but hey, he’s alive so probably not.) he knows you give someone else the horrible latte art and give him the nicer one you do. he knows how you’ve never actually been mean to him aside from saying you hated his hair and tattoos. (but then he also caught you staring at the rose that one time so maybe you don’t.)
“nope, pretty sure i like you,” kaiser affirms, because in the sunlight he thinks your invisible halo is shining and he’d be a lot more lovestruck now if half of him wasn’t upset that you’re going to go on a blind date when he can’t even score alone time with you.
“what’s his name?” he asks you again, when you don’t respond to him.
it’s about a half hour till closing, he’ll have the whole time to pitch himself to you, maybe. score a date or something. hell, maybe he’ll even convince you not to go on the—
“y/n, right?”
kaiser whips his head to the side to see your supposed date already here.
“i’m yukimiya kenyu,” he’s shaking your hand and you’re actually smiling. at a guy. do you smile at anyone as long as they’re not kaiser? “ready to go?”
“she has another half hour to go, idiot,” kaiser lets slip, catching a warning glare from you.
yukimiya grins sheepishly at the animosity, but you’re quick to defuse the tension. “actually i get off a half hour early today so i’m good to go,” you tell yukimiya, ignoring kaiser behind you. “just let me get my bag and we can go, okay?”
while you’re in the back clocking out, kaiser glares at your date, who’s leaning against the counter and scrolling through his socials. he’s clean, neat, looks like he could be a model. is that your type? kaiser can do that too, does he need to show you all the endorsement deals he’s done?
you leave without saying goodbye, laser focused on yukimiya and whatever the fuck he’s saying and kaiser has never felt more irritated.
“so, how’s your date with pretty boy?”
that’s mimiko asking, because kaiser is still a little pouty even a week later.
“it was fine, we’re into a lot of the same stuff apparently.”
kaiser’s still hovering around you though, because it’s off-season and he’s going to spend every moment he can chasing you. you’re not making it easy though. you’re still giving him the cold shoulder sometimes.
“when’s the next date?”
kaiser is too focused on the thin air he’s staring into to notice you briefly throwing him a quick glance.
“don’t know if there is one, honestly.”
that manages to get kaiser’s attention, his mood immediately perking up and eyes now fully focused on you.
“why not? thought you guys had a lot in common or whatever,” kaiser half-mocks, still a little salty. (which is a little funny to you, considering what kind of person he is in the soccer world.)
you roll your eyes and sigh, moving to keep all the cutleries that you’ve just shined. “don’t know,” you tell them, “maybe because when i was on the date i kept thinking of this annoying guy i know.”
kaiser freezes up. did you really just say that? he’s going to take a shot and just assume he’s the only annoying guy you know. no one should take that position from him.
from the side, mimiko slowly shuffles away, leaving the two of you alone by the coffee machine.
“so… does that mean you’re giving annoying guy a shot?” kaiser’s grinning from ear to ear now, and it’s probably infectious because you’re trying to suppress a grin too.
“maybe, but if he screws it up i’m done with him.”
you’re still trying to act fierce, but it’s too late because kaiser can see through it now. you’re really just a softie inside, aren’t you?
“then are you free this weekend?”
you look at him for the first time with no disinterest in your eyes, like you’re really looking at him now. “what for?”
kaiser smirks. “annoying guy is gonna take you out for the best first date of your life.”
kaiser doesn’t know if he succeeded. but hey, it’s been three hours since the date started and you haven’t run away yet so he must be doing okay.
he takes you to the amusement park first, because one time when you were idly chattering away with mimiko he heard you saying you haven’t been to one in ages. so here you are, on the third rollercoaster ride and you’re having so much fun kaiser’s proud of himself.
turns out you’re surprisingly nice to be around when you’re not being such a grouch. kaiser’s only liking you even more now. likes you even when you’re so excited to eat the corn dog that you get mustard on your face—that only means he gets to wipe it off. likes you also when you bat your pretty eyelashes at him so he’d win you that bunny toy you like in the claw machine.
“so, how am i doing?” kaiser asks when he escorts you to his car—next stop is dinner.
you hum, taking a bite of the big unicorn candy floss in your hand. “a solid six.”
kaiser clicks his tongue in faux annoyance, “it’ll be an eleven by the end of tonight.”
you laugh again and kaiser thinks all this work is worth it. he opens the car door for you, makes sure the aircon isn’t too cold that you freeze, lets you play your music in his car.
you’re kind of the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, but then again he might be biased. but who cares? you’re also kind of one of the most annoying, but you think the same of him. and you’re not scared of jumping into anything, he can tell because when he pulls up in a parking lot outside of the restaurant, he tells you he wants to kiss you kinda.
your answer?
kaiser never really expected you to agree. but you do; because you climb over to the driver’s seat and settle on his lap, your lips inches away and a smirk forming on your face when you see he’s taken off guard.
“want me to kiss you, kaiser?” you’re teasing him, and he thinks you’ve never looked hotter. he can feel your breath against his lips and fuck your lips are so so close and he wants to taste you so so bad.
but then he remembers who he is and straightens up, cursing himself for letting himself be so flustered into submission. “only if the lady wants it.”
you scoff, rolling your eyes and moving to open his side of the door, “well, if you don’t wanna—”
kaiser closes the door as soon as it opens and turns you to face him, “fuck, just kiss me already.”
the two of you hold onto each other, his hands around your waist and entangled in your hair, his lips gentle and rough on yours both at the same time. you taste sweet, must be all that candy floss you ate. he wants to taste more of you. the little sounds you make when you’re almost out of breath? music to his fucking ears. he’s so whipped for you and he hates you for it. but he also loves you for being like this, for being you.
you’re the first to pull away, smirking and biting your lower lip as you keep your index finger on his lips, separating him from you. “how was that, kaiser?” he doesn’t think you can sound more seductive if you tried.
“y/n l/n, you drive me insane.”
kaiser can’t even focus on dinner after that.
fourth date in and kaiser’s fucking pathetic.
really, he can’t even remember ever being this pathetic because you’ve got him wrapped around your cute little pinky finger.
“what’re you staring at, perv?” you ask, catching him staring as you’re idly flipping through the channels.
it’s a lazy sunday in, you and kaiser are at his apartment, on his bed, watching movies. kaiser sighs because ness walked in on the both of you earlier and even though he’s more than happy to show you off, he’s not looking forward to the interrogation that will unfold.
“staring at your stupid pretty face,” kaiser says, and you avert your gaze, pouting, which kaiser has found out two days ago is just to subvert from your embarrassment.
“hey, when’re you leaving for the champions league again?”
“next week, why?”
you deadpan at him, “what, not gonna invite me to something?”
kaiser stares at you for a minute, dumbfounded, before laughing. that must be the first time ever that you’re asking him for something. up until now, it’s always been him.
“you know what, forget i asked,” you grumble, pouting even more and kaiser has to peck a kiss on your lips from how adorable he thinks you’re being.
“fuck, you’re cute,” he thinks out loud, and you look away.
it’s not like the both of you are together, he thinks, as his finger moves up and down your arms, watching as the goosebumps appear and disappear. but kaiser whatever this situation is, kaiser wants it. he wants this and more and he’s so far gone in you and he doesn’t mind.
“you better be in the front row, okay?” kaiser tells you that night, resuming that conversation. you move to straddle him instead and relish in how he’s dragging his eyes all over your body.
“yes, sir.”
fuck, you really do drive him fucking insane.
kaiser finds it sexy, how you’re in the front row at one of his matches, how you’re wearing a jersey with his name and number on it, how he knows you’re cheering for him and him only.
he invites you to all of his games, puts you up in his hotel, sneaks you around so you won’t be under the public eye. it’s thrilling, and you’re still the same you, beautiful, gorgeous, kind.
you’re still not together, but now he’s sure where he’s headed with you. after six months of whatever this is, he thinks you’d kill him if you weren’t sure. and kaiser thinks you’re just waiting for him, so he’s going to make it memorable.
so, so memorable.
his team makes it to the finals, and with noel noa leading everyone, it’s no surprise they win. the bleachers go wild, everyone is chanting the club cheer, fanning their merch wildly.
kaiser is being pounced on by ness and his other teammates, so is noel. but kaiser pushes through it, weaves out of it, and he’s headed straight to you.
in front of everyone in the stadium, in front of international television, kaiser is running across the field and making his way to you.
kaiser is fast and persistent and so pathetic because he’s so into you and all he knows is he wants you around. for a long time, and forever, if he dare say. so he throws his legs over the railing and kisses you without hesitation, the entire crowd going wild.
he’s kissing you, slow and smiling against your lips and you’re holding onto his arms and fuck you’re so perfect.
“well,” you say when kaiser finally pulls away, his hand still on the back of your neck, “that’s one way to make things public.”
kaiser chuckles, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “now the whole world knows you’re mine,” he says, aware that everyone on his team is probably passing money around because he’s sure they bet on when he’d finally make you his girlfriend.
“you’re crazy, michael kaiser.”
yeah, but you love him, don’t you?
he loves you too, by the way.
kaiser pulls away and winks at you right before he gets ready to get back to his team.
“guess i’ll have to top this when i ask you to marry me, huh?”
RAHTFHJTFHYDCHYFV ACADEM RIVALS TO LOVERS ARE 🤌chefs 💋
marigold promises
pairing: albedo x gn!reader
genre: social media au, modern/college au, childhood friends to academic rivals to lovers, slow burn
summary: it was evident that you and albedo have changed in the five years you’ve spent apart, but you know better than to view him through the lens of nostalgia. with one goal on your mind – graduate valedictorian – who better to stand in your way than the studious, intelligent, ice-cold albedo? one thing’s for sure: he’s going down.
warnings: swearing, crack, light angst, unrealistic depictions of college, family issues, self-doubt, abandonment issues; will be updated as the series continues
status: ongoing
author’s notes:
my first smau hehe. i’ve been working on this for a while so i’m really excited! updates will be sporadic but i’ll do my best to update often.
the timestamps don’t matter unless i say they do!
apologies in advance if i miss any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language
pictures used are simply to add visual description and do not depict the reader’s skin color, height, etc.
written chapters are marked with (☕︎)
profiles:
coffee addicts ([name]’s friends)
donut disco (albedo’s friends)
year 1 — whether i like it or not || playlist
01. finally, a worthy opponent! || 02. why pay for netflix?
03. if looks could kill || 04. impromptu cramming session
05. enigma (☕︎) || bonus. i hate it here
06. temporary truce || bonus. crisis companion
07. crack theory || bonus. bread
08. twin pendants (☕︎) || 09. no harm in asking
10. the print shop by the mondmart || 11. #TCUClubFair
12. save me a slice || 13. miss you too
14. caffeinate me up || 15. u ok?
16. hell week (☕︎) || 17. dean’s lister
18. please send help || 19. 6/10 difficulty (☕︎)
20. #ynsweep || 21. equilibrium (☕︎)
22. look me in the eyes (☕︎) || 23. team effort
tba
year 2— we make a goodteam,partner || playlist
tba
year 3 — promise me this || playlist
tba
year 4 — these bonds that bind us || playlist
tba
taglist: @fvkkyu @mintreen @edreee @khyllynnn @xxmirrorballxx@aiikalvr @yaefics @ch35hir3 @aequha @alch3myy @lovely-althxa @nei-rinn @cridtiins @zestrya @skylions-den @moriiartt @theother-victoria @sunsethw4 @dazaisfavgf @serossidechick @koiir @lazy-sanns
— the taglist is currently open! if you’d like to be added feel free to reply or send in an ask! – if your blog isn’t highlighted it means i can’t tag you.
¡Mirrorball! ❞
An Alhaitham x afab!reader SMAU
Tropes: Rival to lovers, fake dating
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ What do you do when your literacy professor is too involved with your love life and tries to set you up with her son? Well fake date your rival of course! But wait, is this really fake? ❜
Tw: slight ooc, cursing
↳ ❝ [ACT-1 ] ❞
Y/n's friends Al Haitham's friends
I. Sober acts?
II. A date?
III. Wake me up next time
IV. Exposed?!
V. Auntnoyance
VI. It really would
VII. 6wirl debut?
╰┈➤ ❝ [A/N ] Hello everyone, this is my first smau so please tell me if you feel like something is unrealistic or could be changed
Send me an ask/comment to be added to the taglist!!
I hope you enjoy this <33
Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx
x : DISTANCE :*+ﾟ
in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?
warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.
a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt
Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.
What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc.
“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.
“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.”
The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”
“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”
The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.
Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.
Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?
Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.
Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.
Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you.
When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.
“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.
“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Nearing six in the evening.”
“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”
Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.
“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”
He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist.
“Thank you,” you murmur.
“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you.
“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion.
“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them.
“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”
“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.
“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”
“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I find it funny.”
He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”
“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”
“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.
You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.
If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”
“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now.
He pouts. “When will you be home?”
“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”
“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”
“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”
With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much.
Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”
“Do you need me to accompany you there?”
“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”
“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”
Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”
“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure.
“Love you,” you murmur when parting.
The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun.
“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”
“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.
He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away.
Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him.
“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.
“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.
Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum.
You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.
During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.
You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.
So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?
“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.
“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.
“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.
Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.
The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.
“How did you discover this place?” You ask.
“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.
Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”
“I take it you like it here then?”
“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.
Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks.
“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.
You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”
“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”
“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips.
“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”
“Are you trying to butter me up?”
“Is it working?”
“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”
“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”
You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”
Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek.
“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response.
“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”
You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office.
Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step.
It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.
Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.
“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.
“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.
“Long day?”
“Draining too,” he murmurs.
“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building.
The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.”
“Did you do anything today to earn it?”
“I need to earn my kisses now?”
“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives?
You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-
“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.
Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.
You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”
How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy.
Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.”
“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs.
Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.
Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning.
You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity.
There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you.
“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out.
“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress.
It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give.
You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first.
But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.
“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze.
You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.
“Dunno. Just double checking.”
“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”
“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?
“Yeah.”
“Fine, amazing, just dandy.”
You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.
Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food.
Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?
Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.
He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day.
“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”
He shushes you.
“What-”
“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved.
When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day.
So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.
“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.
You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.
“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles.
It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end.
“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted.
“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek.
Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.”
The dark-haired stiffens. “What?”
“Nothing,” you cough.
“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”
“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”
“Which was?”
“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”
“Why would I ever want that?”
“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”
“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.”
You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”
Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye.
“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you.
When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.
It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night.
Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.
“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.
You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.
“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.
As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little.
“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”
He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”
You nod, “I will.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.”
“Sorry for putting you through all that.”
“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.”
“I love you, Wriothesley.”
He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”
A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again.
*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
“𝐈𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫?”
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔!
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬?
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬-𝐭𝐨-𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 :)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.
𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬 + 𝐀𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐚 <𝟑 | 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏: 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 > 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐: 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐬?
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑: 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒: 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓: 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟔: 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬?
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟕: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 >:(
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟖: 𝐎𝐡? 😁
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟗: 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐛𝐢𝐭
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟎: 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: (𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝!)
@yintsukareta @koritasp @whats-humanity-lol @reverse-iak @estelwrld
i know who my first call will be to — sae misses home more than he thought he would
Itoshi Sae’s heart stays behind in Spain whenever he leaves for overseas matches.
An absurd notion, most certainly. Ridiculous, in every sense that exists to the word. So unbelievable, in fact, that he still has a hard time believing it himself.
Nevertheless, it remains the only explanation behind the ache in his chest whenever he goes to sleep in an empty hotel bed. It’s why his meal times are dull and monotonous; why he finds himself pushing past his bedtime to remain glued to his phone, listening to you recounting your day.
Sae isn’t sure if you know it — how he desperately yearns to remain by your side. And if you do, you’re good at hiding it (he likes to think it’s for his sake).
His grip on his phone tightens just enough, a soft hum rumbling in his throat as he absentmindedly agrees with something you said.
When you lean closer to the screen, Sae nuzzles into his pillow, holding it tight as he pretends it’s you instead. You cup your chin with your hand, looking away as you trail off mid-sentence.
“I miss you,” he says, quiet and soft and so, so unlike himself, filling the faintest gap of silence.
Your eyes flit back, meeting his own through the screen. Sae has to strain to catch the soft exhale that leaves your lips. Then, you smile — gentle and (somehow) pitying at the same time.
“You’ll be home soon enough,” you say, your tone full of warmth.
“I want to be home now,” he replies, almost petulant as the pillowcase slightly muffles his words. His gaze softens when you do. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” you whisper, lightly poking the camera in a manner that has him instinctively scrunching up his nose. You tilt your head to the side, studying half of his face as best you can through a phone.
“My flight back is on Saturday,” Sae says, studying your face in return.
“I know. Want me to pick you up?”
“I land around midnight,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to keep you up—”
“Sae.”
The tips of his ears burn, embarrassment painting his cheeks red when your eyes meet. After a beat, he huffs in complaint, his brows furrowing. Still, your gaze softens; and he melts almost instantly.
He sniffles, lightly shifting onto his side. “I want you to pick me up from the airport,” he clarifies, trying to will a little firmness into his voice.
“Hm,” there’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest, fluttering and clinging to every corner at your soft hum. It further roots itself into him when you grin. “I’ll think about it.”
“What’ll it take for you to say yes?” he asks, trying to bite back a smile. He nuzzles into his pillow when you lean back, pretending to be deep in thought.
God, he misses you so bad. He misses being near you with every bone in his body.
“A kiss, maybe. If you want.”
Sae rolls his eyes, fondness buzzing in his chest. “I thought you were going to be more ambitious than that.”
You shrug, nonchalant, “I’ll max out your card when you get home.”
“Mm.” Sae rolls onto his other side, switching his phone to his free hand. “That sounds more like you,” he mumbles, soft.
The corners of his eyes crinkle when you guffaw, quickly defending yourself against his claim. His expression softens impossibly so — he’s sure the press would have a field day if they saw him like this. (Part of him thinks he wouldn’t care if they did; you’re the reason behind it, anyway).
“I wanna go home.”
“You’re staying in France for, like, two more days. You’ll be fine, Sae.”
He rolls his eyes, picking at the edges of his phone case. “Have you washed the bedsheets yet?”
“Yesterday,” you reply, absentminded. “Why?”
“Just wondering,” Sae murmurs, hushed. “Did you use the detergent I like?”
“Yeah?”
He makes a soft noise, “I hope you know I’m collapsing on our bed when I get home.”
“I don’t—”
“And I’m bringing you down with me.”
A soft, amused huff leaves his lips at your expression. His eyes narrow just a little, the action fond and affectionate in nature. When you sputter, Sae scrunches up his nose. He wishes he could kiss the frown off your lips.
“Whatever,” you grumble, softly clicking your tongue. “You’re lucky I miss you.”
“I miss you more,” Sae whispers, soft and gentle and so, so unlike himself. He supposes his demeanor is your fault — his heart turned to mush the moment he gave it to you. The thought is stupid and utterly asinine, truly.
Still, Sae doesn’t mind. He believes it more and more, letting it take root in his soul every time you brighten up at his tender, ‘I love you’s.
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