Cw: Angst/comfort, You Get Doubts About Your Relationship With Shoto, There’s One (1) Heated Make Out

꒰ HE STOOD YOU UP PT.2 ꒱

↳ note ⨾ repost! ↳ genre ⨾ angst to fluff(ish) ↳ feat. oikawa, ushijima & atsumu ↳ parts: one :: two

ʚ OIKAWA ɞ

“y/n?” oikawa whispers into the night, facing your back beside him on the bed in your shared apartment. he’s somewhat surprised you didn’t ask him to sleep on the couch, knowing he wasn’t exactly your favorite person at the moment.

then again, you weren’t exactly saying anything to him either.

you stir a little bit, probably in your sleep, but don’t reply. it is an ungodly hour, there shouldn’t be any reason for either of you to be up.

but oikawa’s been alone with his thoughts.

“y/n,” he tries again. he reaches his hand up as if to shake you awake but decides against it. he really shouldn’t disturb you; he doesn’t need another reason for you to be angry with him. retracting his hand back to close to his chest, he stares at your back and the way your body moves up and down with each passing breath you take.

“what is it, tooru?” your voice, drunk with sleep, catches him off guard, making him blink a few times and wonder if he was just imagining it. it’s not too much of a stretch, since the man has been up since seven in the morning the day before.

“i can feel you staring at me,” you huff, shuffling around into a more comfortable position still facing away from oikawa. “what is it?”

“i’m sorry,” he blurts. he swallows thickly as he listens to the sound of your breath inhaling and exhaling.

“yeah,” you mutter, bringing a hand up to rub at your eyes. “you already said that … the past million times.”

“i mean it,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowing sadly. he wishes he could see your face.

“and how is this different than the other times,” you sigh out, probably exhausted of his apologies and empty promises.

“you could leave,” he croaks, attempting to keep the air between you quiet. “it never occurred to me until tonight that you can walk out that door and never have to deal with me again.”

you pause your moments craning your neck around but it’s too dark to see. so, you turn over, now facing the ceiling. oikawa follows suit and lays on his back, only moving his head to the side to face your side profile.

“i’d deserve it,” he continues, playing with the sheets between his fingertips. “i’ve been nothing but neglectful and haphazard with you, unknowing to the consequences for my actions. and for that, i’m sorry.”

“your words mean nothing, though,” you mumble. “after so many apologies, how can i just trust you this time?”

you’ve been so hurt, so tired of being hurt by him, you can’t believe his words.

oikawa nibbles his lip, in attempt to keep it from trembling and quickly clutches your hand with his.

“i’ll make you trust me again. there won’t be a doubt in your mind about how much i care for you.”

he doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, his hand holding yours. oikawa is just about to say goodnight (with another apology probably) and take his hand from yours to allow you back into a comfortable position, when you squeeze his hand and intertwine your fingers.

ʚ USHIJIMA ɞ

the next morning, you wake up in an empty bed. with furrowed brows, you sit up, glancing around the room in search of any remnants of your boyfriend; his closet door was open, volleyball bag hanging on the hook on the inner side of the door, signaling he must be home.

it isn’t until you peel the covers off you and slide into your slippers when you hear the distant sound of clanking pans from inside the kitchen. opening the door of your bedroom, you cross your arms in attempt to keep warm as the morning chill sends goosebumps scattering along your skin.

your feet pad toward the kitchen, now following the smell of … pancakes? eggs?

“oh, you’re awake,” ushijima announces as he sees you step into the kitchen, taking note of your confused expression. whether it’s from the morning deliriousness or the fact that he’s cooking breakfast, he can’t tell.

“don’t you have practice?” you rasp, morning voice lining your tone. you clear your throat and continue, “it’s nearly ten.”

ushijima turns away from you, looking back down at the skillet in front of him. “no practice today.”

“oh.”

the air is cold between the two of you. not only is it from the weather as winter creeps closer, but the silence, too.

“i told them i couldn’t come in.”

you nod slowly at that. “are you feeling alright, toshi? you don’t have a fever, do you?”

ushijima shakes his head firmly. “no, but i’m not alright either.” he pauses his stare at the skillet in front of him to turn to you with sad, droopy eyes. “i’m sorry i forgot about last night.”

“oh.” you’re slightly taken aback by his expression. “it’s alright, tosh, you had practice-”

“i stayed late,” he mumbles quietly, lifting the fried eggs from the skillet with a spatula and places them on a plate. shutting the stove off, he turns around fully, leaning against the counter with arms crossed. “i wanted to get a few more serves in and i forgot about our date.”

his words, truthful as they are, twist your heart uncomfortable. that’s something you could always count ushijima for: honesty.

he looks over at you with his lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. “how long did you wait for?”

“until they kicked me out,” you murmur your reply, twisting your arms behind your back.

ushijima sighs, lifting himself from leaning against the counter. “y/n, i’m so sorry. it won’t happen again.”

“okay, toshi.” you muster up a smile, gulping down the lump in your throat.

when he reaches you, he takes a side of your face in one of his large palms. he looks between your eyes, searching them and when he finds doubt, the crease between his eyebrows deepen. “you don’t believe me.”

“it’s not that,” you sigh, averting your gaze from his. “volleyball has been your number one priority since we met, and i love that! i love that you’re so passionate about something … it just…” you trail off, not knowing how to form your next words.

it hurts knowing i’m second to your career.

ushijima reads your expression clear as day. “i shouldn’t have made you feel this way,” he murmurs, mostly to himself, as he takes in your averted eyes and knitted eyebrows. “volleyball is my career,” he says firmly, “but you’re my priority. i’m sorry i haven’t expressed that as i should’ve.”

“you don’t have to say that-”

“i mean it. and i’ll prove it to you.”

ʚ ATSUMU ɞ

“y/n?”

the soft thuds against your bedroom door make you look up from the book in your lap. you hadn’t read much of it, the event that occurred a few hours prior plaguing your mind instead.

“come in.”

the door opens a few inches, just to allow atsumu to slip inside and shut the door closed behind him. he wears a deep frown on his usual confident-looking face as he stares longingly at you.

“yes?”

you notice he’s changed his clothes; where previously he was wearing a pair of joggers and an athletic jacket, he’s wearing jeans and a jacket better suited for the cold weather outside. you presume that he managed to snag the outfit form your shared closet when you slipped into the bathroom for a shower about an hour prior.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs, looking down.

“okay, atsumu,” you sigh, returning your attention back to the book in between your hands, fingers carding through a page as you attempt to reread the section for about the nth time.

he gnaws on his lower lip, keeping his eyes trained on you, waiting for the possibility that you flit your eyes up to meet his once more; maybe with that adoring gleam they always have around him.

yeah, he doesn’t think he’ll be seeing that tonight.

“i really mean it,” he announces, jutting his chin up. “what i said, how i acted, i shouldn’t have done that.”

“mm,” you hum, nodding in agreement, eyes never leaving the beige pages of the book.

huffing slightly, atsumu shuffles out of the room, leaving the door opened behind him. you’re about to call out that you much preferred it being closed but atsumu soon returns with a plastic bag in hand.

“you did eat, right?” he asks tentatively, walking closer to your shared bed. he recalls your words a few hours prior but he isn’t sure if they were just a jab in retaliation of what he’d asked you to do for him.

“yes, i ate.” your tone is clipped, making atsumu flinch slightly but slumping his shoulders he holds out his arm, gently urging your to take a peak.

“well, ‘m assuming you didn’t have any dessert so…” he shakes the bag when you don’t look inside immediately.

curiosity getting the better of you, you straighten yourself up and lean over, not before scowling at the man – he has to know you’re still not pleased with him. you use a finger to pull the bag toward you, giving you more view of the contents inside,

“ice cream?”

the man bashfully brings a hand behind his neck to rub at. “i wanted to get’ya a cake but all the bakeries are closed. i had to head to the convenience store on the corner instead.”

you don’t speak as he takes out the mini tub of ice cream and spoon, placing it in front of you on the bed. with a pressed frown, rocks on his heels.

“i’ve been a shit boyfriend lately,” he declares with a look of regret. “i’ve been an ass and you don’t deserve that. all you’ve done is be supportive of me and my career and i’ve done nothing to give you the same love back. for that, i’m sorry. i’m not asking for your forgiveness now, but i’ll make it up to you, baby, i promise.”

you stay silent for a moment as atsumu searches your face, as if a look or a twitch of your lips could tell him exactly what you’re thinking. he thinks you’ll stay silent for the rest of them, stewing with his words.

instead, you pick up the ice cream, peeling off the cover and holding it out for him, as if to share. “you got another spoon?”

and atsumu’s heartbeat relaxes and the ghost of a smile reaches his lips as he takes a seat beside you on the bed, digging into the bag for an extra spoon.

— drunk confessions.

kazuha x gn reader

part 1. part 2.

warnings: golden apple event spoilers(?), cursing, alcohol, fluff, slightly suggestive

“Venti, what was in that drink??”

“Err, he might’ve drunk one of my cocktails..?”

Your face felt hot as a very drunk Kazuha clung onto you, giggling randomly and cooing your name while leaning uncomfortably close to your face.

“Y/nnnn~ hic- look at meee,” he whined tugging on your shirt while turning his head to try to catch your eyes. You felt as if you were about to burst from all the affection.

“Heh, seems as if you don’t mind Kazuha’s drunk antics though,” Venti giggled, eyeing your arms wrapped around Kazuha’s waist, while he clung onto you.

“Oh my archons, Venti! Guess what?”

“What, Y/n?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, face hot with embarrassment. Your other friends giggled, as Venti feigned being hurt.

“Y/nnn~” Kazuha drawled, tracing your lips with a finger.

Fuck.

You could hear snickering coming from the others as you shot a glare at them.

“What is it?” you sighed, finally looking into Kazuha’s eyes, though you almost immediately regretted it.

His eyelids were drooped as he stared intensely at your lips, almost hungrily. Glancing up at you he giggled and puckered his lips.

“Kiss!”

Oh my archons. He’s too cute…

“Hehehe, you heard him Y/n, give the big baby a kiss!” Paimon cooed while you dug your face into Kazuha’s neck, hiding your expression from the teasing looks being sent your way.

“Kissss- hic- k-kiss,” Kazuha pouted.

“Shut up Kazu, you’re drunk,” you mumbled into his neck. You could hear your friends resuming their conversation about the island and such as you looked up again.

“Y/n…”

“What now, Kazuha?” You sighed glancing at his flushed face.

His hands cupped your warm cheeks as he leaned closer to your face, staring deep into your eyes. You gulped as he leaned dangerously closer to you.

Softly, he brushed his lips against yours, kissing you for a beautiful moment, a moment where everything and everyone froze, a moment where it was only you and Kazuha, and a moment that didn’t last long enough. Kazuha leaned back and giggled with red hues decorating his beautiful face. Fuck, you were burning up. The lingering feeling of his soft lips stayed, your hand reaching up to brush your lips tentatively, feeling the tingling of a few seconds ago.

You can’t take this anymore.

Abruptly standing up, you dragged Kazuha to the stairs, feeling him stumble beside you as ooo-ing could be heard behind you.

You led him to the balcony, opening the door and then closing it behind you, inhaling a breath of cool air. “H-hic- Y/n…?” You turned to face Kazuha, then pulled him towards you, smashing your lips together once more. Your lips tugged and melded against each other, panting and soft hums being heard from both persons.

He bit your bottom lip, tugging and rolling it softly between his teeth. Your breath hitched as your mouth opened, allowing Kazuha to slip his tongue inside. Your tongues intertwined sensually as you continued kissing each other hungrily, as if you could never get enough.

You wove your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling at it, making Kazuha release small mewls into your mouth. Unfortunately, you had to part for air, as the two of you panted, your foreheads pressed together in a comfortable silence.

“Y/n..” He whispered, tilting your chin up, directing your gaze into his eyes. “Hm..?” You hummed.

Ah, he was too beautiful, his messy hair strewn over his shoulders, ponytail having fallen apart moments ago from your tugging. His eyes, like crimson jewels staring into your own with such emotion it could make you overheat on the spot. His lips, the soft pink lips that easily sang words of poetry, the lips that captured yours so easily, bringing you into a hopeless love filled daze.

“I love you.”

You hoped it wasn’t just the alcohol in his system making him say these things, because you just couldn’t resist whispering the confession back, letting the walls fall down, letting vulnerability slip out.

—

“Damn, what took y’all so long?” Xinyan wiggled her brows as you sat down, Kazuha back to clinging onto you. “Needed to get fresh air,” you said dismissively. “With Kazuha?” Lumine pointed out teasingly. “Shut up,” you flushed.

Kazuha giggled and started pressing kisses all over your neck and face. “Mine, mine, mine~” he sang in between each kiss. You grumbled, heat once again rising in your face.

“Oh??” Venti smirked at the lovesick birds, noticing the change in your demeanors.

“All of you, shut up.”

synopsis. you’ve been deliberately dodging atsumu miya. he wants to know why.

pairing. atsumu miya x fem!reader | wc. 2.0k (it wasn’t even supposed to be this long) | genres. (implied) university au, tbh i don’t even know what this dynamic is, he calls us princess, reader’s kinda bad emotionally, rain confessions

notes. for my birthday (not gojo’s eff him (/j)) i decided why not take one of my favorite tropes of all time and pair it w the loml. you’re so welcome. this is very dialogue heavy, barely proofread, and a hot mess, but i hope you enjoy regardless.

"(y/n)." the very familiar, sultry yet aggravating voice says the moment you step out of the cafe.

"oh my god!" you jump, clutching a hand over your heart that skipped a beat. it's immediately followed with a glare towards atsumu. "what the fuck, miya? you don't just come up to people like that."

"sorry." atsumu apologizes but his nose scrunches at the word. "nah, not really. didn't know how else to get to ya."

"so you had to find me at my job?" you raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

he shrugs. "yer really not leavin' me with any other choice."

"what are you on about?" you roll your eyes as you take a sharp left, carefully exhaling out. the street is nearly deserted now that the sun sunk past the horizon, leaving only the street lights and the moon to illuminate what would be a pitch black scene. puddles of water are scattered along the walkways, remnants of the downpour that occurred earlier in the day. you had clocked out later than usual, and the next flash of rain is predicted to fall within the next few minutes. you want to get back to your dorm before the worst of it happens.

"ya know what i'm talking about." atsumu huffs. "yer clearly avoiding me."

your shoulders tense when he brings it up, and you pray that atsumu doesn't catch it. "i'm not." you lie, your heart speeding up.

"yer a shit liar. i hope ya know that." atsumu shuts you down right then and there. the fact he's able to makes you wince. that's one of the many bones you have to pick with him. he can always see right through you, and it allows him to get under your skin easily since he knows exactly what to say if he wants to get a reaction out of you.

it's because of that reason that you've been avoiding him. you know yourself well enough that if you were to stand face to face with atsumu miya as you are now, he'd figure out the secret that you've been hiding for two weeks.

atsumu presses his lips together, sighing once he realizes that all he'll get from you from this point forward is silence, but he tries his luck anywayy. "can we talk?"

you let his question fizzle out in the air, continuing down the sidewalk as atsumu follows by your side. the first drops of drizzle fall onto your hand and cheek. atsumu feels them too.

"look, it's gonna rain soon. could ya at least let me take ya home? yer gonna get soaked." atsumu gently reaches out for your hand. the sudden contact and its spark of heat makes you jump. instinctively, you yank your hand away from him. your widened eyes snap towards him, and shame washes over you. maybe the street lights are playing tricks on you, but you swear there's a flicker of hurt in his gaze. you turn away from him because you can't bear the sight of it.

"are ya mad at me? did i do somethin' to upset ya?" atsumu continues.

no, you answer in your head. you can't trust yourself to say it out loud without betraying anything else. it's not that.

"(y/n), please. talk to me." atsumu pleads. you don't think you've ever heard such desperation in his voice before. you've never seen him so raw. it's almost enough to break you, but you refuse to let go the threads of your resolve. the rain is picking up; it's cold as it soaks the threads of your clothes.

"princess." atsumu throws in as a last ditch effort. you know it is because it's the one nickname that gets you riled up the most. it sparks a reaction that atsumu knows will get you talking, but unbeknownst to him it's not for the reason he expects. he wants you to snap with anger, but all your heart does is ache. all it does is melt you into putty in his hands.

"don't call me that." you finally come to a stop, turning so that you can face him, defeat in your gaze. atsumu's blond locks are beginning to lose volume; they stick to his forehead as droplets continue to fall. his hoodie is littered with small, dark stains, a physical consequence of the rain.

"oh now i got yer attention." atsumu scoffs, poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek.

"miya." you warn, voice shaking. he ignores it.

"yer not being yerself, and ya haven't been for the last two weeks." he tells you as if you don't already recognize it yourself. "what's goin' on with ya?"

"nothing!" you deny. "i'm fine!"

atsumu rolls his eyes. "cut the crap, princess."

"seriously, stop calling me that!" you spit back at him.

you're shivering. you can't tell if it's because of your cold, wet clothes or your frustration that keeps reaching new levels. you can sense it; you can sense that your heart is about to claw itself out of chest and dump itself onto the feet of atsumu miya. your hand fists the fabric of your soaked shirt as if to keep it in.

"then tell me what's wrong!" the blond in front of you demands, running a hand through his hair. his voice projects over the brutal force of the rain.

you grimace. that's the one thing you can't do, especially since it involves him. you bite your tongue, hiding your face so that atsumu doesn't see the glassiness of your eyes. "miya... please drop it." you ask him pathetically.

"why?" he pries. this is the other issue with him. he's so damn stubborn to the point that it's infuriating. atsumu miya never backs down until he gets what he wants.

"because it's you!" the first wave of tears break free. they cascade down your cheeks, mixing in the stream of rain on your cheeks; all while your hand remains pointed at atsumu. "because i fell for you!"

atsumu shuts his mouth, going completely silent. you shake your head, laughing bitterly. "i bet you didn't expect that, did you? believe me, i didn't either. day in and day out all we've ever done was argue so i don't know how this happened. i don't know why i have these feelings for you."

wiping your face is a futile attempt yet you still do it anyway. a sob gets caught in your throat, and you choke on it. "i can't stop thinking about you. i can't be near you without my heart attempting to leap out of chest. and so yeah, i've been avoiding you miya, and it's because you've made me so damn weak."

your stare finds atsumu's. you can't get a read on him, but you don't have to second guess that he can see the pain swirling in your eyes. it's so humiliating that even now the first thing that crosses your mind is how good he looks even as you feel your heart being torn apart. his hair is completely stuck to his forehead. his blond ends that are soaked through and through drip their excess water onto his face. you want nothing more than to brush them out of his line of sight, but you can't. you fight that desire by balling up your fists.

"so please just leave me alone. stop trying to find me because i can't take this anymore." you beg through hiccups.

you wait for a response. you wait to see if atsumu will kick your heart aside. in an even better scenario, which is far from likely, he accepts it. you'll take either or.

but he does neither, and that's fine too. you leave atsumu by himself on the sidewalk, and your lack of presence pulls him out of his trance. he jogs to catch up to you, reaching from behind to clasp your hand in his.

"miya, let go-"

"no." he says firmly, a newfound fire burning behind his eyes, one that exceeds the one you feel on your hand. the sight makes you gulp. "ya can't just confess yer feelings for me and leave."

you chuckle weakly, trying to pull yourself free from his grasp. "i think i can."

"no, ya can't. ya didn't even give me a chance to say anythin'." atsumu argues. he doesn't relinquish the hold he has on you.

"what more do you have to say? you don't feel the same, and that's fine-"

"could ya stop assuming things?! i never even said that." atsumu squeezes your hand ever so lightly in frustration. "and by the way, i'm not gonna leave ya alone. i'll follow ya to the edge of the earth if i have to."

you're still crying at this point, and atsumu's words are only making you more upset. "why?! why are you so fixated on me?! why can't you just-"

"because i'm in love with ya!"

in that moment, you swear the rain stops in its place, suspended in the air. surely, you must've been hearing things wrong. atsumu miya, the guy who has everyone dancing to the tune of his hand, is- no that doesn't even sound right. how could he possibly-

"god, i've been in love with ya for so long." atsumu laughs, like it's a relief to finally get it off his chest. "but ya nearly ripped my heart to shreds over these past two weeks."

atsumu squeezes your hand before letting it fall to your side. his own flex by his side as if to hold himself back. "(y/n), ya can insult me to yer heart's content if that's what makes ya happy, but don't dodge me like i'm the damn plague. i hate it. i really do."

atsumu picks up his tear-filled eyes; it makes your own fall even faster because you realize that this hurts him. you want to apologize, but the words are backed up in your throat. your cries steal away your ability to speak.

so you pull him in, yanking him by the drenched fabric of his hoodie and closing the distance between you two. your lips crash onto his, praying that this action is enough for him to understand. it takes a moment for atsumu to react, he's unmoving against you, and once he realizes what's happening, he relaxes. his hands fly to your neck, resting one on either side as he kisses you back.

it's carnivorous. he kisses you like he's been deprived of you. you feel how badly atsumu's been wanting this, how long he's been waiting for this day. you can barely keep up with his hunger. it's hot enough to overpower the chill that comes with the rain beating down on both of you. you'd kiss him forever if you could, but your lungs are begging for air.

when you pull away, atsumu's eyes reveal that he's in a daze, a happy one, like he just came back from soaring through the clouds. his damp hair presses onto your forehead as you both catch your breaths.

he pulls back. atsumu wears a soft grin as he admires you, even though you probably look like a wet dog. one of his hands find their way up to your cheek. you look at him expectantly. "(y/n), i want all of ya. i want yer stubborn ass attitude and yer insults. i want ya to be the only person who can bring me back down to earth. i want yer smiles and all yer laughs. i want to continue lovin' ya." he professes with complete certainty. his flowery words make you beam so brightly that it makes your cheeks hurt.

"i'll give you all of that and more." you swear. "but miya, i need you to kiss me again."

"oh? it seems like i got myself a needy princess." atsumu smirks, but he's already leaning in.

"shut up."

"gladly." atsumu agrees, pressing his lips to yours, smiles on both your faces.

you catch the flu the day after, and so does atsumu. but man, it is so, so worth it.

It's Shoji but I drew him all fashionistaaa style uwu - Mars Marks

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。08:00 PM — AL-HAITHAM.

idk i just felt like. writing haitham grieving his grandmother. it’s also a slight character study ig. idk if anyone will read this but if you do. just know that he is the core of my heart. his grandmother too i mourn her death so much sobs

“hey,” you say gently, sitting next to him. al-haitham only grunts in acknowledgment, slumped on the couch. “d’you want dinner? i made your favorite.”

“not hungry,” he mumbles.

his grandmother’s death anniversary is a sore spot. it’s a day you tiptoe around carefully every year. you don’t know much about his family—just that he was orphaned very young and raised by his father’s mother until the ripe age of 16. you’ve seen the dainty handwriting inside the covers of books, and you’ve even seen a small, framed photograph that he keeps stowed away.

sometimes, you wish he’d tell you. you wish the far away look and the clenched fist around the fabric of his pants would ease with your presence. you wish he’d tell you about her, that you’d know the woman who raised the man you love—even if only through hushed words and old stories.

“you hate sleeping on an empty stomach,” you hum, placing your hand over his clenched one.

his fist loosens a little—progress.

“i…” he pauses, let’s out a heavy sigh before letting his head fall back. there’s tension in his shoulders, in his neck, in the jaw he keeps so tightly clenched. “i won’t be sleeping for a bit. sorry,” he tries to sound apologetic. you don’t hear much in his tone besides defeat. “you can head in without me.”

“that’s okay,” you shrug, forcing his clenched fingers apart to weave yours in with his. “i don’t sleep well without you anyway.”

“suit yourself,” is all he says.

and it’s silent for a bit. he seems to be thinking deeply—or reminiscing, maybe grieving. maybe all three, but you’re not too sure. you’re never too sure when it comes to how al-haitham feels about anything.

he’s hard to decipher—but he’s easy to pull apart. you don’t understand how someone as hard and calculating as him is so gentle with love, but it’s hard not to notice how soft his touch is, how it lingers, how the tips of his fingers long for you. you don’t doubt he loves you—he never gives you the chance to.

but sometimes….sometimes you wish he’d let you love him properly. to kiss the scars. to admire the parts he thinks are ugly. to shelter the thoughts that have no home besides his own head.

it’s silent for a bit—until it’s not. you break the silence first, like you’re holding a hand out for him from the shore as he drifts aimlessly.

“baby?” you ask quietly. he grunts again in response. “what was she like?”

“who?”

al-haitham is a smart man. probably the smartest you’ve ever met. you don’t think you’ve ever met someone who read physics books as a pastime, and you’re pretty certain he’ll always be the only one. you know he knows exactly what you’re asking and you know he’s avoiding it.

but it doesn’t stop you though—it’s been long enough, you think. you’ve known him long enough. craved him for a few summers and loved him for enough winters that he has pieces of you that fall through the cracks of your resolve.

you think you deserve a few pieces of him too—even if your fingers have to reach past the cracks themselves, even if they have to slice against the jagged edges and bleed a little in the process.

you’ll bleed for him—like the sun rises from the east and sets in the west, your heart beats for al-haitham. and it’ll bleed for him too.

“your grandmother,” you whisper. “you’ve never told me about her.”

“there’s not much to tell,” he shrugs. “she died right before i enrolled in the akademiya and she raised me after my parents died.”

“i’m sure there’s more,” you say gently—his grip has tightened on your hand now. you don’t think he realizes—in fact, you don’t think al-haitham realizes half of what he feels when it comes to vulnerability.

it’s why he realizes he loves you so late. it’s why you fall first and he falls after. but he falls harder—it’s not hard to see.

“she was a kshahrewar scholar,” he offers blankly.

your thumb brushes over his knuckles, and it’s almost like your hand reaches past the shore just a little further—you don’t mind risking the fall into the water if it means pulling him out.

“haitham,” you sigh delicately. he swallows. it’s hard to keep composure for long—even for someone like him.

grief is an evil thing. it’s a familiar friend—one you wish you never made and one you’ll never shake away. it dances with you under the moonlight, when the stars are bright but the sky is heavy. it barely grazes your skin some days but weighs into your bones on others. it’s a cruel thing really—and it hits you harder some moments than others.

“she was kind,” he starts slowly, his hand reaching out and grabbing yours over the shoreline. maybe, just maybe, sometimes he can get tired of drifting too. “she liked to bake. her hands got too weak to knead dough when i got older, though. you would have liked her tarts. she couldn’t read without her glasses and she always forgot they were on her head. she said my father looked like her husband and that i look like my father. she used to ask me to read to her sometimes so i’d sit on her lap and read my books out loud. she loved the sunrise but was never good at waking up on time to see it. she used to drink tea during sunsets. she liked hers extra sweet and i liked mine more bitter. i…” he pauses, voice shaky as his fingers dig into your hand. you squeeze, and he sniffles. “i haven’t had tea since she passed.”

“she sounds lovely,” you whisper. “i would have loved to meet her.”

“she’d have loved you,” he cracks a small smile, shaking his head as he thinks. “probably more than she loved me.”

“i’m sure i’d never compare to her darling grandson,” you chuckle, bumping arms with him. his head drops to your shoulder—you hesitate for a moment before deciding to pull him into your chest. and when he doesn’t protest, when he buries himself into you instead of pulling away, you thread your fingers into his hair.

“i miss her,” he croaks quietly.

“i know,” you soothe. “i know, baby.”

al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life. one is gone but it lives through the other. the gentle touch against his scalp and the warmth under his cheek is familiar—it feels like the lap he slept on when he was six. it feels like the delicate hands that cupped his cheeks when he was eight. it feels like the soft kisses against his temple when he was ten.

al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life, and he’s glad that one of them is you.

“you’d have loved her too,” his voice breaks. you kiss his head as you feel your shirt dampen.

“i already do,” you murmur, “she raised you well. i have her to thank.”

his breath hitches at that—and then he pulls you closer, grasps you tighter, falls in love with you harder. his grandmother’s death anniversary has always been a sore spot—but somehow, you numb the ache even if by just a little.

gently, your hand clasps his and pulls him to shore. he’s grateful he doesn’t have to drift alone anymore.

there is nothing i’m more obsessed with than al-haitham’s childhood. i have so many thought about it. and him. and his character. and his inner thoughts and feelings and most of them revolve around his grandmother and more importantly her passing. and idk. he’s just sosososo important to me i wish we knew more about his grandmother. i love her so much i grieve her passing even though we’ve never even met her 😭

I DON'T THINK FRIENDS KISS EACH OTHER LIKE THIS ( everything has changed after kazuha returned from that trip ).

— genre : fic ( wc ~ 1.2k ). fluff, hurt / comfort. — cw : kissing, flirting, inazuma archon quest, mentions of beidou & thoma. "everything has changed" by taylor & ed. for @starglitterz feb collab !! <3 — characters : kazuha x gn!reader

you step out onto the streets, and the harbour greets you.

ritou, the small island which holds so many memories bitter and sweet. it is the bittersweetness of life that holds people's souls together, you recall a mellow voice speak, held together with ties that cannot be broken even by time.

you smile fondly at the memory, remembering the last time you were in his presence. life was so different then — the vision hunt decree, the war, the rigid rules and suffocating environment that caused him to flee. a life full of doubt and fear and uncertainty, bold risks and willing sacrifices. you remember when this island was ridden with conflict, the environment heavy with revenge and spite. now, as the sun peeks through the dense morning cloud, crimson leaves stark against the sky that looks bluer than ever, it seems inazuma's port is readying itself for the arrival of those dearly missed.

it's funny, realising how much you've longed for those who have been gone. one free - spirited, poetic, thoughtful wanderer in particular. you miss his carefree laugh, his reassuring hands, his silent presence ever so comforting, even while engulfed within the tense air of a wartorn nation's dead of night.

"there it is! the alcor! i see it, i see it!" a high - pitched voice screams excitedly. the child tiptoes over the edge of a railing, hands waving around ecstatically — and sure enough, as you follow the approximate direction their chubby finger points in, you spot the characteristic majestic sails billowing in the ocean breeze. maybe it's a figment of your imagination, but you swear captain beidou's figure is visible too, watching the islands of inazuma approach slowly but surely in all her confident glory. and maybe, if you really squint hard enough, you can catch a glimpse of a wandering samurai perched upon the bird's nest, eyes desperately searching the harbour in anticipation for one special person in particular.

. . .

"kaedehara kazuha." you exhale slowly, ( eagerly ) drinking in the sight of him. he's finally here, standing on the same ground as you, breeze blowing his hair around his face like an angel's halo.

"hi, dove." kazuha is suddenly unsure of where to put his hands now that you're right in front of him. you still resemble your old self — still so, so captivating, he thinks, pretty features coated in joy.

you're home, you want to say, but you know home is not a place on earth according to the avid traveller. but your doubts are interrupted by his voice once more. "your eyes look like coming home," he replies breathlessly to your thoughts.

pure euphoria washes over you when kazuha opens his arms to hug you for the first time in much too long. the moment is short - lived, though, beidou's booming captain voice ringing throughout the harbour. "hey, you lazy sailors! get back here and help thoma and i unload all this stuff of yours!"

"so ... meet me here again tonight?" he asks, pushing stray ruffled strands out of your face.

your eyes crinkle into little happy crescent moons at his familiar request, mirroring the way his eyelashes flutter in content.

"after the moon rises above the silhouette of narukami shrine. as always, kazuha."

. . .

though under the familiar glow of the moonlit sky, seated below the very same branches that have existed for as long as you can remember, something feels different. ( not off, because that implies something is wrong — simply different to before, different to how you remembered it to be ).

"you came."

"of course i did."

a comfortable silence settles, save for the sound of chirping crickets rippling through the midnight air.

perhaps it's because he carries with him the scent of faraway worlds, ones that you haven't visited but long to travel to with him by your side. or maybe it's because his hair is longer than you remember, red tuft accentuated by the scarlet of autumn leaves. or it could be because he's older and grown and so are you, leaving it at a reason as simple as that.

innocent conversations and intertwined hands and a head upon his shoulder turn to doting stares and flickering light in both of your eyes. and before you know it, you realise things feel different because oh my god, i'm in love with —

"can i kiss you?" his voice is almost curious, breath ( and cheeks ) warm. and your answer is clear in the way you lean in to capture his lips with an insatiable, inexplicable desire in a silent confession of your ( clearly mutual ) recent epiphany.

but now he's exactly where he wants to be and kazuha is holding himself back, and so are you — because this is different, this isn't how things were back then. all you know is that those ruby eyes and dimples when he smiles rouse the butterflies in your stomach, the overwhelming feelings you've been holding back all these years, an irresistible magnetism you've been missing all this time.

lips part slowly, reluctantly, and he sighs before running a hand through his hair, eyes still locked onto yours. even if your mouths have let go for air, gazes definitely don't have the strength to tear themselves away from each other just yet.

you pause before asking the question that's on the forefront of your mind, begging to be spoken out loud. "are we friends, kazuha?"

"mhm, why do you ask? we've been friends for long enough now, no?" he grins lopsidedly, one hand still glued to your hip and the other gingerly brushing against your cheek. his tone is teasing but it conceals another emotion you can't pinpoint, something hidden away behind those smooth remarks.

"because ..." words trail off, and you know it's cheesy but you feel like you're getting lost in his eyes — a swirl of complex emotions and conflicting feelings and god, you can see how the turmoil in his heart mirrors yours right now, the hesitation and fear that what if something goes wrong, i don't want to lose you twice.

"because, kaedehara kazuha, i don't think friends kiss each other like this."

he laughs softly, eyes twinkling in amusement and adoration while he thumbs your frustrated tears ( that you didn't even realise began to spill ) away from your face. his touch is gentle and so is his gaze. it understands everything you want to say without any demands — because kazuha doesn't want to force the words that are still stuck in your throat, all the things you wish you could say but can't bring yourself to.

"mmm … then i don't mind being something other than that, lovely. i'll let you choose the label, sound good?" he whispers under his breath before pressing his lips against yours once again. "i won't mind whatever you want us to be, so don't stress yourself out about it, yeah? as long as i'm allowed to know you better, then whatever we're called … whatever name we're given … it all doesn't really matter much to me." kazuha smiles a delicate smile before continuing shyly. "but ... if i were to have a choice, i just want you to know that i'd love to make you mine."

— taglist ( open ) : @xienn @chichikoi @yinyinggie @favonius-captain @dawndelion-winery

pt. 1 | pls i had to continue it

word count: 2.2k

cw: angst, so much angst. with a happy ending though

It seemed impossible to just forget. Forget about the warmth you felt when Kuroo would glance over his shoulder to check on you when you were out in a group and he was walking ahead with some of his friends. Forget about the speeding heart rate when he’d put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he teased you or pointed at some building you used to get dinner at in your sophomore year.

You tried to fill your mind with distractions anyway and forced yourself to stop replying to his messages as soon as you saw them. But it hurt. Pushing him away like that, seeing his profile picture pop up less often in your notifications as he seemed to get the hint, understand that you needed space.

Your chest tightened and ached when he asked you how you were holding up, his picture grinning up at you mischievously, which you had always found so damn cute. You were smiling back at it without realizing and chastising yourself when you did notice.

Kuroo changed his profile picture then, his face no longer there and you felt your stomach drop at that. It stung in particular when a new message popped up in your notifications that read, ‘wanna talk to me?’

You knew it had been a matter of time before he wanted answers from you, an explanation for the cold shoulder you were giving him. Thinking your attempt to get over him might’ve been obvious.

“There you are.”

He looked different, worn out somehow. It was the first thing you noticed when you approached him in the cold evening air, his back resting against his car as he pocketed his phone without another glance at it.

Slight dark circles were beginning to show underneath his eyes and the thick, black strands of his hair were pointing at various directions, all messy and disheveled—just like in your freshman year when he didn’t even bother to get rid of his ridiculous bedhead yet. A wave of nostalgia flooded right through you at the sight.

“I was starting to think you hated me.”

Kuroo smiled at you, a little shy and uneasy and you couldn’t blame him. It was you who had started to reach out less, after all. Like you were mad at him. That stupid crush you had was your problem, yet you only hurt him in the process of getting over it.

What a friend you were, best friend no less. You were a fraud.

“No one could ever hate you.” And you meant it. He was a good person, caring and loving, albeit a bit annoying. Yet that ambitious, honest side of him was admirable and attractive, automatically causing you forgive him for teasing you so often.

“Eh,” Kuroo shrugged and a more genuine grin eased into his face. It relaxed you, corner of your lips pulling up as your chest began to feel lighter, warmer.

Gosh, you’d missed him so much.

He seemed to share your thoughts because he reached for you with an arm, nodding you over with that smirk of his that made you want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

“Get over here then.”

Why wouldn’t you? He was your best friend, after all. The person you were closest to, who you trusted the most.

You let yourself get pulled into an embrace with a choked laugh, and relief and guilt washed over you simultaneously. He held you close, arms wrapped around your shoulders and chin resting atop your head—like he always did when you needed comforting.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on now?” Kuroo tried to seem nonchalant in the way he asked, looking up at the steadily darkening sky, but you knew him well enough to assume he was feeling as nervous as you were. Maybe even scared of the things you’d say. You were, anyway.

You didn’t even know what you could say. Hadn’t you tried to save your friendship by working on getting rid of your feelings for him? Didn’t he already know after what happened last time you were out at night?

“Don’t you already know?” You grumbled out loud then and felt him huff in amusement.

“Dummy,” he grinned and loosened his grip on you, allowing you to step away from him with downcast eyes. “How am I supposed to know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours if you won’t talk to me?”

Oh.

No, don’t say things like that so casually.

Your chest tightened and you began to feel that familiar lump form in your throat.

“I can’t just say it, though,” you breathed, fogging up the air as you crossed your arms, starting to feel the cold creep into your skin. “It’ll change everything.”

Kuroo didn’t respond right away, merely let out a breath and turned to lean against his car again. He folded his arms over the roof, chin rested on the crook of his arm. The erratic throb of your heart made it difficult to meet his hazel eyes that were undoubtedly peering up at you.

“Is change really that bad?”

—hm?

“Yes it is,” you retorted, risking a glance at him with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s scary.”

But he merely shrugged, playful smirk forming on his lips as if to say, ‘so what?’ It felt natural to fight the urge to bump your fist into his side because he was starting to get smart with you.

“Haven’t things changed already?”

You turned around with a huff and mimicked the way he leaned over his car. It was easy to ignore the way your elbows touched in the process and you forced yourself to hold his gaze this time. Careful anticipation evident in it.

Were you able to express the very same thoughts and feelings you had been trying to get rid of the last few weeks? As a sigh eased out of you, you realized that maybe you weren’t and the wild hammering of your heart didn’t help you in any way. But Kuroo just smiled at you, encouraging and gentle. He would never pressure you to just come out with it.

“I’ve been trying to get over someone,” you whispered then, averting your eyes after all. You became hyper aware of the pounding in your chest and felt like hiding your face in your folded arms but he stopped you. His hand reached out to you, fingers grasping your arm and your eyes flitted to his.

“Someone..?”

“You,” you breathed, and there it was. A half-assed confession because you were tired of feeling this way, like your lives had come to a halt because of these dumb feelings. You knew they weren’t reciprocated, not with him continuously trying to set you up with all kinds of people, finding entertainment in the way you’d get flustered around them. ..when it was really him that had made you react like that.

Kuroo didn’t say anything for a while and his gaze had lowered to your arms, to the spot he was grasping you loosely. There was a slight crease between his brows and you felt your blood drain from your face at the sight. You knew it.

“You know,” he began suddenly, as if sensing that you were about to shut off, “I had a feeling that it was something like that.”

Your mind was spinning. Something like that. It was no use, you had to mentally prepare yourself to not seem too bothered when he’d tell you he didn’t see you like that. That you were just a friend to him, however dear.

“And it got me thinking.” Kuroo paused, and you held your breath.

His eyes settled on you once more as a gentle smile rested on his lips and you felt your mouth go dry, heartbeat uncontrollable in your chest.

“I realized that I’d get real sad if you kept pushing me away.”

“But you don’t see me that way,” you finished for him, a bit hastily, eyes lowered on his smile, throat tightening with another lump as you nodded. “Got it.”

Of course he didn’t. He was good to you, caring and attentive, as a good friend should be. But that didn’t mean he owed you anything beyond that. Which is why you didn’t want to pursue it, knowing that it was hopeless either way.

Why ruin a good friendship over some stupid feelings?

“Uh no, that’s.. not true.”

His face was out of focus when you looked up at him, tears clouding your sight as you stared, incomprehension apparent. Because.. what the hell?

Kuroo instinctively moved closer at the sight of your watering eyes and his hand on your arm twitched, wanting to reach up but he held back.

“You’re so damn confusing,” you half laughed, half sniffled, shaking your head. Your fingers felt cold against your skin as you wiped the tears away, still trying to comprehend what he’d said. “If you tell me you feel the same I’m gonna kick you.”

Obviously, you were joking. But then you noticed Kuroo cocking an eyebrow, accompanying the smile that made him just so.. annoyingly irresistible.

He couldn’t possibly..

“What if I showed you, then?”

He couldn’t.. right?

You didn’t move away when he inched closer slowly, your heart thrumming intensely against your rib cage. He raised a hand to brush his knuckles over the skin of your cheek, a delicate touch, fingers grasping and reaching forward to get a gentle hold of the back of your head.

“I often thought about doing this,” he breathed, your foreheads nearly touching, “whenever it was just us and you’d look at me like that.” His gaze was locked onto your lips, trailing the curve of them with the thumb of his other hand, your breath hot against his fingers.

“Why have you never—?”

“Was overthinking,” he tapped your forehead with his index finger, “just like you.”

He was kidding, right?

Though the way he gently tipped your head back to meet him in a soft kiss told you otherwise. It felt unreal, your nerves blanking as you grasped his jacket, fingers clutching the fabric desperately.

There was a small noise at the back of your throat when he moved his lips against yours with purpose, savoring you. You could barely feel your legs, your own weight suddenly too much. Gasps leaving your mouth as his hand guided your face closer to him, feeling his breath hot on your skin when his other arm wrapped around your waist to hold you tight, keep you from just slumping down.

You still couldn’t believe it. Your heart was racing, your mind spinning, your breath hitching. Leaning every emotion you got into the kiss you didn’t feel the tears until your lungs squeezed out a sob, surprising the both of you.

Kuroo separated from you in an instant, confusion and worry clear in his expression, looking like you had actually kicked him. But you threw your arms around his neck before he could say anything.

“Wha—” You hugged him tightly then and buried your face into the crook of his neck with another sob you couldn’t help.

“I’m so happy,” you exhaled. But your inner self was in disarray—happiness, relief, confusion mixing together. His touch was comforting and you felt yourself relax as one arm reached around your form to hug you back, hold you close. It didn’t feel so strange, as if it was always meant to be like this. To simply hold you and wait for you to release all those emotions you had bottled up for who knows how long.

Kuroo had been scared of change as well, truth be told. That tiny voice in his head had warned him from following his instincts whenever he held you close, with you staring up at him like nothing else mattered. No one else. The voice telling him not to ruin this connection he felt with you. It could end so badly, after all. The two of you could end up like his parents, and he would end up losing you—you, sweet you.

When you started to detach yourself from him, it felt scarily real.

He didn’t like not having you around, even if just temporarily. Didn’t like not being part of your life when another difficulty plagued your mind, because he wanted to be there for you, just as you’d always been there for him.

Being with you, really being with you, wasn’t guaranteed to be easy but it’s all he’d subconsciously thought about the last few years with you. Whenever he invited you to go on trips with him or when you tagged along to Kenma’s and he’d watch you interact with him. Making him think that he needed to keep you around.

“Wanna come inside? It’s cold out here.”

You peeked up at him like that again, and he felt his heart swell up at the expression on your face. Teary eyed and sniffling, but smile stretching your lips like he hadn’t seen in weeks. It made him giddy and excited and in order to not grin too much he slipped a hand underneath your shirt, pinching your skin teasingly.

“Yeah.”

@ sakuroo. please do not modify, copy, repost or claim as your own. ꒰ reblogs appreciated! ꒱

we will never be apart

diluc ragnvindr x reader | 1.8k + words

warnings: angst/comfort, mentions of blood/injuries, no pronouns used, ahh if i'm forgetting anything else just tell me

the howling of the wind as the front doors of the winery swing open violently, followed by a thud much too loud and heavy to be footsteps, draws you from your book and has you rushing from  the master bedroom and into the dark hallway, the pages of the novel left askew on the sheets in your abrupt departure.  

frigid air from outside makes the manor even colder than it normally is this time of night and your thin short silky pajamas weren’t doing much to help keep you warm but you didn’t have time to think about how cold you might get or throw on a robe, not when your worst fears were already churning uncomfortably in your stomach. they only grew worse when you looked over the banister to see diluc on his knees at the threshold of your home. it’s too dark to make out much but there’s no mistaking the long, fiery, mane of hair that flows towards the ground in his slumped over state. 

you can’t speak or call out to him. everything feels caught in your throat and you worry if you speak you may choke on the words but adrenaline and a racing heart move your feet as quickly as they can down the grand staircase. as you get closer you see one hand keeping his body from meeting the cold hardwood and the other gripping at his side desperately. bright red bangs cover his face but you can hear how hard he’s breathing, see in the dim moonlight coming through the open door the deep breaths he fights to take with every rise and fall of his back. 

a strong gust of wind rattles the doors and quickly you close and lock them, not wasting another moment to make your way to dilucs side and reach out for him with shaking hands. you swear all you can hear is the beating of your heart in your ears as you help him sit up, bringing his arm around your shoulders and with all the strength you can muster, help him stand up while supporting most of his weight. something wet and warm begins to seep into your night dress and stain your skin beneath, the smell of copper becoming more potent the more his blood stains your clothes. 

the only thing that breaks through the sound of your panicked heart is his strained voice calling your name. the way it sounds makes the tears you didn’t know were welling up in your eyes fall down your cheeks without permission. 

“y/n.. i..” he grunts when you tighten your arm around him and begin to make your way up the stairs. he’s so heavy; barely able to walk, his heavy boots dragging against the cold hardwood with every step you take, hardly able to use his hand to help him up the railing. it’s up to you, and the strength you worry would break at any moment, to help get him up along with his stumbling steps. 

“don’t speak. save your strength.” you reply, your voice is uneasy as the hands that are holding onto him, that are dripping with his blood. but no matter how hard you cried, no matter how the anxiousness in your stomach made you nauseous along with the terrible coppery smell, you had to keep moving, had to let it bubble over without control because right now your only focus was being sure diluc was okay. he had to be. what.. what would you do without him.. if he died in your arms- 

you have to stop your racing thoughts before they consume you. almost to the bathroom. it will be okay. it has to be okay.

it’s not the first time diluc has come home injured and you had to bandage him up, you’d say by now you’ve gotten quite good at it, but it’s never been this bad, never been this scary. there was no staff here at this hour, no one to call for a healer unless you wanted to leave diluc alone to do so by yourself but you aren’t sure you could stomach to leave his side in this state. 

normally diluc would sit quietly at the edge of the tub with a stern expression, his eyes not meeting yours as you cleaned and wrapped his wounds but tonight he can barely lean against the side of the tub as he tries to take off his coat and vest. your hands stop his own, trembling fingers peeling off the dirty and stained fabric until he’s left bare chested and he’s laying against the tile flooring, head resting against a towel. this time it’s your eyes that don’t meet his, even though the ruby orbs you love can't focus on anything but your distressed visage. 

he calls your name but you don’t reply. using his teeth to tear off his glove, it comes into your peripherals, gently resting on your cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that continue falling from your eyes. he hadn’t meant to worry you, hadn’t meant to use all of his strength after getting injured and stumble home only to barely make it through the door. the bloodied pajamas you wear, the shakiness of your hands and the worry in your crying eyes makes his heart ache far worse than the wound you’re attending to. he’d be okay, as long as he could ease your worry, stop your tears, he was sure of that. he’s suffered far worse but the reassuring words he speaks to try to tell you as much never seem to make it to you.

you don’t hear his voice, can barely register the hand that holds your face and wipes your tears. how could you when you can’t focus on anything but the injury at his side that slows how badly it’s bleeding as you apply pressure and a salve adelinde made for situations just like this. it wasn't meant to patch up wounds for good but as it foams against the gash it stops the bleeding and hopefully numb the pain. the crimson splotches are so bright against his porcelain skin and as the salve works its magic you continue checking the rest of him, cleaning every small cut you can find before coming back to gash on his side. 

his body flexes under your hands when he attempts to sit up, using all of the strength he has left to come closer to you, to comfort you. “wait! don’t get u-” you’re interrupted by a finger under your chin pulling your face from his toned stomach and to his soft eyes instead. normally you’d expect him to be mad that he’s hurt but tonight there’s no anger or irritation in his expression, he’s worried for you far more than he is himself.

“it’s okay y/n,” he speaks, his tone calm and reassuring. finally you hear his voice. diluc has never been very good at words of comfort but for you, if it meant your tears would dry and the smile he loves would return, he would always try. “it looks far worse than it feels. please, don’t waste your tears for my sake.” 

you bite your bottom lip, an attempt to stop yourself from crying more because you know you needed to be strong for him but it doesn’t work out the way you wish it to, if anything you’d say it's making it a little worse. your tears seem unstoppable as ever. using the back of your hand you wipe away the growing wetness on your cheek. “h- how could i not when you’re hurt?” 

his touch on your chin is beyond gentle, radiating with warmth and it only grows warmer when he caresses your jaw before the tips of his fingers brush your hair behind your ear. you can’t help but lean into it his touch, closing your eyes in hopes you could now calm down and not think about why you’re kneeling on the cold tile in the bathroom, in the middle of the night, covered in a color you normally couldn't get enough of but right now is making your whole body burn almost unbearably. 

“i’ll be alright,” dilucs words are as tender as his touch and full of sincerity. “it wasn’t my intention to worry you-.”

“but diluc-”

suddenly and softly his forehead finds solace on yours and you find, as you often do with diluc, his touch steals your breath away. the smell of his shampoo and the mint on his breath invades your senses- making you forget about the scent you couldn’t stand before. 

“i wouldn’t be dishonest with you, my love. please trust me when i say i’m alright,” his breath fans against your cheeks. strong, calloused hand finding its way even deeper into your hair with every word he speaks, until he is protectively holding the back of your head. “i will always be okay as long as you’re by my side… but i will be more careful in the future so you don’t have to worry like this again.”

“i always worry for you ‘luc,” you whisper, the last of your tears flowing down your cheeks and onto his scar ridden chest. you want so badly to wrap your arms around him and hold him against you but you don’t dare further hurt his wounds. instead your hands find his muscular arms and hope to relieve some of the stress he’s putting on his body by comforting you like this as you cling to him.

“i know,” he replies before attempting to hide a grunt of pain. your worry of hurting him makes you want to pull away when you hear the pained sound and you try to cautiously but he holds you steady against him, not letting your foreheads part. how did he have such incredible strength? “i am beyond thankful for that, and for you. i don’t know what i would do without you.”

“the feeling is the same,” you sob quietly, the tears you had just stopped starting to come back no matter how much you will them not to. “i.. i thought-”

“i have no intentions of ever leaving you y/n,” his hand in your hair tightens and the air in the bathroom grows warmer and warmer with every word of love he speaks. “i swear it. more than anything else in this life, i am yours and we will never be apart.”

“diluc.. i.. i love you so much.”

“i love you too, more than you know.”

the numbing agent slowly starts to ease dilucs pain while his words ease your own aching heart and though tears still fall from your eyes, your lips curl into a loving smile that matches his own. the bathroom is silent as you bask in each other's love while you finish bandaging him up and in the comfort of knowing things truly would be okay. 

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

Ficmas Day 1: One More Sleep [Tenya Iida]

Pairing: ProHero!Tenya Iida x Fem!Reader

Song: One More Sleep by Leona Lewis

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I tried to get this done a few days ago, but I was just so tired 😭 Anyway, I hope that you guys like it!

~

Tenya rubbed his eyes groggily, staring at the ceiling. He rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand. 3:43 AM. How frustrated he was by this. He should've been asleep hours ago. He sat up, deciding it was no good. Sleep wouldn't come, not until you were here by his side.

    He checked his phone for the date. December 21th. Four. More. Days. Five more grueling, restless nights. Tenya figured he should've been used to this. Spending time apart. Your relationship had been that way since the beginning. You traveled for work while he stayed put. Doing the hero gig he'd always dreamed of.

    But now - so close to Christmas - it was impossible to think of anything else but you. Here. In the bed you'd spend nearly a year deciding on because he insisted you had to look at all the options first. Your side was barely worn. It made his heart ache in ways he was too stubborn to admit.

    Tenya wondered if it's be too cruel to ask you to stop. To stop traveling. To stay put, just for a little while. No more calling at wild hours. No more flickering signals or long distance fees. Just you and him. Together in the home that you'd bought. The place you made love and fought and kissed endlessly to make up for lost time.

    But when was enough, enough?

    He swung his feet out of bed, put on his glasses, and slid on his slippers. A blue bathrobe hung from the best post. It was one you'd bought him last year from somewhere over seas. You had said it reminded you of his eyes. Apparently you'd worn it considerably before gifting it. It was drenched in your scent by the time it reached his hands. The collar smelled like your shampoo, the rest of smelling of your favourite spray. You'd bashfully admitted you wore it because you missed him. And this one little thing made you feel closer.

    Your smell had been washed from it by now. But he silently wished it was still there as he put it on. He only flicked on a few lights as he made his way to the kitchen. A warm cup of tea on a cold, snowy night sounded wonderful. Tenya looked out at the piling snow as he waited for the water to boil.

    He worried your flight would get delayed. Or worse – it'd be put off until after the storm passed. Sure, he'd video chatted you early that evening. But he felt like he'd die if he had to wait even a single day more than he already had to. He ran a hand through his hair. What a funny thing love was.

    Tenya had never expected you to come into his life. He never really expected to share love with anyone. It was just another thing his brother talked sweetly of. Telling him, “Tenya, you'll know when she's the one.” Tenya breathed his brother's every word like gospel.

    Except for that one.

    What had Tensei meant by you'll know – it wasn't very informative. It didn't help too much. It only kept him guessing as he passed attractive women. Until Tenya found you. It wasn't love at first sight. Not entirely. But the first words he thought when he saw your face? I just found my wife.

    It had been such a nauseating, powerful experience. One little glance as you said 'hello' from your new spot at a desk in his agency. Tenya had rushed away, and left out the back so he wouldn't have to pass you again.

    It was the single most powerful moment in his life.

    Many things had changed over the years. You were one of those earth shattering experiences for him. Breaking open the egg that was the world. Showing him more than he would've thought possible. Four years ago, that thought that he'd fall in love with a stranger and get married to them just two years after would've seemed ridiculous. But here you two were.

    You worked as a travel writer. Going to exotic places. Trying new things. Meeting new people. While Tenya was living his dream. Fulfilling his brother's legacy as Ingenium. He never thought being alone could feel so hollow and bitter and cold. He'd never really felt lonely when he was alone, until you two made a home together. Tenya worried that home was too boring for you. Surely it had to be after seeing so much of the world. It gnawed at him. No matter how much reassurance you gave him that coming back home to him was always the best part of the trip.

    Tenya contemplated his tea as he poured in the water. Watching as a deep red color soaked out from the leaves. Only four more days, he kept reminding himself. Five more nights, and she'll be with you. But the mantra didn't help at all.

    Tenya went to his reading chair by the window. Yours was next to his, a table separating them. Your side was stacked with books. Even your chair had a few on it. Bookmarks spouted from a few. Tenya was sure you'd never finish them. But watching you try was endearing nonetheless. Your wedding picture sat on the table, along with a vase of your favourite flowers. He went every day to get one while you were away.

    He counted twenty three. Twenty three flowers. Twenty three days apart. But only four more until you were back in his arms. Until he could kiss you and hold you. Feel your warm skin against his own. They'd made you stay longer, so you'd have writing material through the first of the year. Didn't they know you had a husband and a dog to get back home to?

    That picture encapsulated the best day of his life. A face splitting grin on his own. You wore a goofy smile because he'd made you laugh. Tenya cried when he saw you come down the aisle. Though he desperately tried to hide them. You teased him later about that. He simply covered you with kisses.

    A small lump formed in Tenya's throat as he watched your dog slump sadly down onto the floor in front of your chair. He rolled his eyes up at Tenya and whined, his tail wagging only once. Things just weren't the same with you away. Tenya blew on his tea with a sigh.

    “I know boy, I miss her, too,” he said softly. Then took a sip. The hot tea did nothing to warm the cold that settled in him.

    Only four. More. Days.

    Tenya didn't sleep much after that. Dozing on the couch until the morning light woke him up. He was very stiff and chilled to the bone. Like someone had left a window open. Tenya searched the house, simply pushing the heater up when he found no cause for alarm.

    Tenya was very surprised as he let the dog out. The snow was ludicrously high. Five feet, give or take. He was willing to say give. Your poor pooch could barely get down to use the bathroom. Tenya just knew he was going to have to shovel a path for him.

    Was his ideal morning bundled up and shoveling snow? He was fairly sure that no body's was. But he diligently donned his his coat, hat, scarves, gloves, and snow boots. Being a good dog father and shoveling a path down into the yard.

    Tenya chuckled at the thought of you out here last year in the snow. A hair dry plugged into the side of the house. He yelled at you about the hazard, trying to argue that a hair dryer was not the most efficient way the clear snow. You started a snow ball fight after that. You'd both gone in drenched, and took a nice, hot, steamy shower together. His body tingled warmly at the thought, his face (and quite a few other places) feeling hot.

    After shoveling, it was shower time. Then he made himself and the dog breakfast (yes, he makes the dog's food because he is a very good doggy daddy). After was time to tend to all the chores he'd been putting off in the wake of his depression. This included wrapping your gifts. Tenya knew you'd be home for Christmas, but it'd been too painful to wrap them before. Between his loneliness and the excitement that bubbled in him at the thought of you coming home in a few days, he felt numb but jittery. One canceling the other out.

    And there was still so much to do.

    Ochaco and Izuku had accidentally, inadvertently invited themselves over for Christmas. They wanted to throw a party. And somehow Tenya had gotten wrapped up in it all. He hadn't been able to get a hold of you to try and talk them down. So he did the responsible thing and said he'd take care of it all. They gushed about what to bring and who to invite, he just had to take care of the house and making sure everything was perfect. He supposed this was a sort of coming home celebration for you, so it didn't annoy him quite as much.

    Tenya measured the dimensions each and every package he wrapped. Then he measured the wrapping paper. The process was tedious, but it ensured every piece of paper was used to the fullest. He pulled off the smallest pieces of tape that he possibly could, so he didn't waste the roll. Honestly, Tenya thought of how you might react as you opened them all. The excitement, the embarrassment, the sheer happiness that he wanted so much to bring you. He'd gone overboard, sure. But you were worth every penny. And all the burnt fingers. The thing he'd tried to make you did not go as well as he wanted. But Tenya just knew you were going to love it.

    After wrapping, he figured having a nice tree to put them under would help. He'd only gone out and bought one. Nothing was decorated. That was something you two usually did together. There wasn't a tinkle of a light anywhere to be seen. Though he knew Ochaco and Izuku expected the place to look as warm and cozy as it always did this time of year.

    The decorations were stored in a closet under the stairs. You had made it a giant Janga tower. Honestly, Tenya was a little scared to pull everything out. If he was crushed to death by decorations, no body would know for days. He studied your tower for a while. Thinking about when you'd put them in. You had struggled tremendously. He'd just chuckled. Tenya always thought everything you did was endearing. In it's own sort of way. In the love touched way.

    When Tenya was sure nothing was going to fall, he started to pull things out and organize them into piles. Garland, ornaments, outside lights, indoor lights, the tree angel, upstairs decorations, table runners, stockings – he sprinted through the house as he sorted. He planned to start upstairs, then work his way down.

    By the time he finished the upstairs it was early evening. He'd missed lunch, stopping only briefly to feed the dog. Now it was dinner time. He had no gumption to cook, though. So he heated up leftovers and sat at the table. Tenya stared at your empty chair as he ate. It was made up with a place mat, and a book, and your favourite mug.

    Three more days.

    It surprised him in the morning when there was a ring at the doorbell. Tenya had been up, working slowly at things around the house. He wasn't planning on company. Nor for Ochaco and Izuku to be standing behind the door. They had their own bags and piles of things in their arms. They grinned widely at him.

    “What a surprise,” Tenya said, then moved aside. “Come in out of the snow. I hope the roads weren't too bad.”

    They nodded and ducked in. “Thanks!”

    “Most of the snow is melted already,” Ochaco pouted. “Izuku and I built a snowman yesterday, but he was just a pile of mush things morning!”

    Izuku looked around, clearly surprised by the bare walls and shelves and tree. “Tenya, you haven't started decorating yet?”

    Tenya looked away ashamedly. Eyes wandering on their own to a picture of you. His guests' eyes followed. Ochaco's grin dropped.

    “Oh,” she said, putting her stuff down. “You're probably waiting for [Name], right?”

    “Tenya, if you didn't want to have the party, you could've said something,” Izuku insisted.

    Tenya had tried to tell them he didn't want to throw the party. Not at his house anyway. But they were so excited that they didn't listen. “It's fine. [Name] is coming home on Christmas. It'll be nice to have everyone here to welcome her back. I've just been putting it off. I didn't want to decorate alone.”

    Ochaco hugged him tightly. “I'm sorry, Tenya. We're here to help!”

    “Yeah!” Izuku looked disproportionately determined for the task. But Tenya was glad that his friend was as enthusiastic as ever. He needed the energy boost. “We're going to make it amazing for when [Name] comes home! You have nothing to worry about.”

    The pair ran off, doing what, Tenya didn't know. But he sure was glad to have friends like them. They helped him finish decorating downstairs. And he made them lunch. Soon everything was dripping with sparkling lights and garlands and glitter. Three stockings hung on hooks that suctioned to the wall, one for you, one for Tenya, and one for the dog. He hoped to add more stockings in the near future. But how was that going to happen when you were barely home together long enough?

    Ochaco and Izuku treated Iida to dinner that evening. Taking him to a restaurant down the way. They chatted quietly, mostly going over holiday plans.

    “We're going to my parents' on Christmas Eve,” Ochaco noted, looking over the menu. “Then Deku's mom and All Might are coming with us to the party Christmas day. I hope you don't mind.”

    Tenya shook his head. “No, it'll be nice to see them.”

    “Are you doing anything Christmas Eve? You could always come with us,” offered Izuku.

    “I'm going to my parents house. Tensei and his wife will be there.”

    Ochaco's eyes lit up. “I didn't know he got married!”

    “Not too long before I did. She's a lovely woman, and takes very good care of my brother. We're all very grateful to her.” Tensei smiled lightly, thinking about his brother's wedding. It'd been a very beautiful ceremony with many tears. He was best man, and dreaming about the day he was going to propose to you.

    They ate and talked and laughed. For just a little while, Tenya felt like himself. Izuku and Ochaco walked him back home. It was dark now, and cold bit through their coats.

    “Oh, before we go – I have invites for you to pass out at your agency.” Ochaco produced a stack of envelopes from her pocket. “Could you give them out next time you go in?”

    “I managed to get a few days off to prepare for [Name]'s arrival, but I can run them in tomorrow,” Tenya said, taking the stack.

    “Let us know when you're back,” said Izuku. “We'll help you decorate the outside.”

    Tenya shook his head. “You've already done so much, I couldn't ask for more.”

    “It's really no problem. We don't mind helping.”

    “Very well, then.” Tenya nodded. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

    As Tenya shut himself in for the night he sighed, leaning his head back against the door.

    Just two more days.

    Tenya set off bright and early the next morning. The air was still frosty and the sky looked like it wanted to flood the ground with more white. He was going to try and make this trip quick. He'd been getting increasingly pitying looks. He didn't want to hang around long, to see their eyes boring holes in him.

    He hesitated at the doors, watching as his breath floated up to the sky. Even with gloves on, it felt like the cold seeped through from the door handle. Tenya didn't bother going to his office. He stopped at the front desk. The woman there smiled up at him.

    “Good morning, Mr. Ingenium,” she greeted. “How can I help you?”

    “I need you to distribute these to all of the staff and heroes,” he said, pulling a large stack of envelopes from his coat. He'd spent the entire night trying to remember all of the staff at his agency.

    “Can do.” She took the envelopes. But she didn't shift her gaze. “You look tired, sir. Are you doing okay?”

    “There's a lot to do, is all. My wife will be home in a few days.” Tenya cleaned his glasses, looking for an excuse to break eye contact.

    “Right,” she bit curtly. “Your wife.”

    Tenya leaned on the counter, hoping to charm her with a smile. He was far too tired for this today. He was going to have to hire a new secretary sometime soon. “Izumi, it would mean a lot if you could pass these out to everyone. I'd be very grateful.”

    The woman softened. “Anything you want, sir.”

    He nodded. “Thank you.”

    Tenya left swiftly, before he had to endure anymore one sided flirting. The distaste his secretary expressed for his wife got tiresome. Along with her not-so-subtle hints for him to have an affair with her. He had more important things to worry about. Like making sure you came home to a magical display.

    “Izuku,” he started, phone to his ear as he walked down the road. “I just left I should be home....soon....”

    “Okay Tenya!” Izuku cheered from the other side. Then there was a long pause. “Tenya?”

    But the man was distracted by the window he was passing. “I'll call you back when I get to the house.”

    “Wait, is something wro –”

    Tenya hung up, staring at the window display. It was perfect. It was just what he was looking for to top off the season. You were going to love it. He rushed in, demanding the display in the window. He wasn't usually the type. But he was just too excited. The clerks gently packaged it, tying neat bows around the box. Tenya had to stop himself from sprinting full force down the road.

    He rushed a message to Izuku when he got home. But there was no hope of sitting still for him. By the time Ochaco and Izuku got there, he'd already had half the outside decorated. He was on the roof, hooking up the lights. He waved down at them.

    Ochaco floated up the rest of the boxes for the roof. Izuku nearly floated away as he tried to help finish the lights. Tenya caught him and hauled him down. It felt like they were back in UA as students with the ensuing chaos.

    Tenya treated the pair to a home made dinner. They had a few drinks and some laughs. But honestly, he just wanted to chug through the next few days. Today was the twenty third. Two more days to Christmas. Two more days to you coming home.

    The trio examined their handy work when the sun went down. The house glowed and twinkled. It really did look like a winter wonderland. Tenya just knew you were going to love it. He was looking forward to seeing your face as you watched the display they made.

    Just a few more days.

    The morning of the twenty fourth was a lazy one. He didn't want to get out of bed. Tenya wanted to lay there until the following night. When you'd be there with him. To finally warm the thorough chill that hadn't left him in days.

    But eventually he pulled himself up, going to the vase in the living room.

    “Twenty five,” he muttered, slipping a flower in. “Twenty six....you'll have a very big bouquet this time, [Name].”

    Tenya set to breakfast. He'd lost all his fire from yesterday. He was a tired shell now. He was so sure you were going to love what he found for you. But now one, long agonizing day laid ahead of him. The house was decorated, inside and out. Presents were wrapped. The tree was ready. Filled to the brim with perfectly packaged gifts, awaiting your arrival.

    Tomorrow would be the party. You'd arrive after dark, hopefully with people still around to greet you. You wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Ochaco and Izuku were going to take care of all the other little details. All of the invites read a potluck and BYOB. In the meantime, he had to wait the day out. The only thing he had to look forward to distract him was seeing his family later that evening.

    Christmas morning was to be lonely. Then, by three, the house would start filling up. By eight, you should be walking up the front entrance. By 8:01, you'd be in his arms and smothered in kisses. With any luck, you'd be making love by midnight.

    Tenya went out and shoveled snow again. More than two feet had fallen in the night. The more snow that fell, the more he worried the weather was going to be too rough for your plane. He needed you, sooner rather than later preferably.

    The day seemed to crawl away. Only a few minutes had passed every time he glanced at the clock. Had it always been so difficult to entertain himself? He'd already showered, made lunch, brushed snow meticulously from the front porch and back deck. He uncovered all of the decorations he'd put up the day before.

    He was impatient by the time he had to leave to see his family. Even the ride there drove him crazy. The road seemed to stretch. The cars squeezing from every side. Would the tedium ever cease?

    As the evening with his family began, he discovered it would not. Even as he laughed with his parents and brother, as he listened to stories and shared a few. His eyes never left his watch for long. It didn't go unnoticed, but it was left unmentioned. Just a look exchanged around him.

    They knew, of course. That he counted down every second until he'd see you again. The light and fire you brought into his life was wonderful to see. But how they wished you didn't leave so much.

    Tenya went to bed when he got home. But sleep didn't come. Not for a very long time. He tried to force himself asleep, just a single thought leaping in his head.

    One. More. Night.

    A new tickle of joy danced in his chest as he realized the day. Christmas. You were going to be home. He was going to be counting down the hours until he saw you.

    Tenya zipped through his morning. Shoveling the fresh few inches of snow. Hand making the dog's food for the next week. Making breakfast for himself, showering, and pulling out the outfit you'd picked over video call a week ago. Just a red sweater with stripes and snowflakes and charcoal grey slacks. He spent time cleaning, making sure every inch was dusted.

    He had his fire back – until he checked his phone just after lunch.

[NAME] (Wife)

My plane is being delayed. I won't be home until tomorrow. I'm so sorry, my love, I wanted to be home for Christmas. So, very much....

    Tenya felt a little bit of himself break. He slumped in his reading chair, phone discarded on the table. He stared blankly ahead of him. His worst fear had come true. One more day had turned into two. And with this snow, two could easily turn into three or four.

    Ochaco and Izuku came not too long after. They knocked on the door, rang the door bell. The dog barked. Eventually they tried the handle, letting themselves in. They exchanged a worried look as they spied their friend. They could see the hollowness of his eyes.

    “Tenya...?” Ochaco whispered.

    “She's not coming,” he muttered numbly.

    Izuku put a hand on Tenya's shoulder. “What do you mean?”

    “[Name]'s flight – it's been delayed. She won't be home until tomorrow....” Tenya could barely scrap his eyes to his phone. He didn't want to look at it. To see anything else that might ruin him.

    “But she'll be home, at least.”

    “You don't understand. You two have each other. Tensei will be spending the holiday with his wife. And I have her. If [Name] isn't here....”

    Izuku and Ochaco glanced at each other again.

    “We'll still have a good time, Tenya,” Ochaco said, trying to cheer him up.

    “Yeah, people will start to be here soon! You won't even know she's missing!” Then Izuku began to panic. “Not that we don't want her here. But maybe getting your mind off of her will help. Not that you shouldn't miss your wife on a holiday but –”

    Tenya chuckled. At least something was normal. Izuku eased some at the sound. He and Ochaco set up the kitchen, while Tenya put away anything he didn't want broken. You never knew if someone was going to get rowdy.

    As the first people showed up, the booze flooded in. Tenya had only meant to have one. But he was having a self-pity streak. One became two, two became three. Different Christmas mixes that people brought, some made right in his kitchen; homemade egg nogs, and Christmas cocktails, holiday ciders. He claimed they were just to try. Normally, he'd be following people around. Putting down coasters, ensuring that they didn't slosh on the couch, making sure no one was scuffing up the floors. But Izuku was already doing a pretty good job of that. Probably to make sure Tenya didn't have to worry. But it left him too idle.

    Tenya chatted with his co-workers as they came. They complimented his house, saying they wouldn't have expected anything else from an Iida. He went around, greeting everyone. Thanking each person for coming. Each drink numbing just slightly more. He spent a good deal of time talking to Izuku's mom and All Might.

    He was caught in the middle of an inescapable conversation with his insufferable secretary when Izuku came to tap him on the shoulder. His friend pointed towards the entrance to your house. Tenya's eyes followed his arm, going wide at what they found. They swept to the clock on the wall – it only read 5:23. In alarm, he triple checked what he was reading, to be sure he was right. With a puff from his quirk, Tenya launched himself.

    You screamed as he tackled you. He kept you upright, making you didn't fall. Tenya smooshed your face with too many kisses to keep up with. He squeezed you tightly in his arms. You could smell the liquor on him. Since when did he drink? You hoped this wasn't the start of a bad habit.

    “[Name]! You're here!” he exclaimed in disbelief. He held you at arm's length, looking you up and down just to be sure you were real.

    You laughed, nodding. “Yeah!”

    “But your plane –”

    “I – uh – I lied.” You glanced away from him, your face hot. “My flight was actually bumped up. I wanted to surprise you. I wasn't expecting you to get stupid drunk.”

    Tenya sunk to the floor, and pulled you into his lap. He was so cute with his goofy grin and the pink dusting on his cheeks. He rubbed his cheek against yours. Your guests chuckled at the sight. You pulled him in for a long, hard kiss. So glad to finally have him in your arms. You could feel every bit of his body against yours. You had to calm his hands as they roamed freely over your body. They were dipping into places that shouldn't be caressed in public.

    Finally – no more counting the days.

    No more nights between you.

    No more hours to wait.

    You two were together. And it was the sweetest feeling in the world.

    “Why wouldn't I have been upset by the delay?” he rambled. “I've missed you, and I didn't want to think of another day without you here. I needed a little boost. Drinking was perhaps not the best choice.”

    Tenya clung to you all night, never letting you out of his sight. Seeing everyone was lovely. You really couldn't have asked for a better homecoming. The lights he'd put up outside were spectacular. And the warm cozy air your home had taken on was supernatural. Or maybe it was just because you were glad to be home.

    It was nearly midnight when everybody finally left. Ochaco and Izuku had stayed to help you clean. Tenya wouldn't let you go long enough to do anything. You were about to force him upstairs when he stumbled over to the tree.

    “No, no, no – you have to open this. While it's still Christmas. Please,” Tenya pouted, and forced a little black box with a shimmering silver lid into your hand. The childish pout on his face was adorable, but he really should've been getting to bed.

    “Tenya –”

    “Open it.”

    You eyed him suspiciously, but planted yourself on the couch. He adhered himself to your side. He held you closely, head on your shoulder. A red ribbon was tied lovingly around the box. It was always too beautiful to unwrap. You had a suspicion Tenya hadn't done this himself. He packaged things neatly, but aesthetics weren't his forte.

    You pulled the ribbon, then peered into the box. You looked at him, then in the box, then back again.

    “You did not go out and spend a fortune,” you scolded.

    Tenya shrugged. “You deserve the world.”

    “Tenya!” But you couldn't deny it was beautiful.

    It was simple, with a thin silver chain. Hanging from the end was a pendant. It had your birth stone in set on the part where the chain went through. And there was immaculate scroll work around the edges. Tenya took it briefly from your hands, the pressed the sides.

    The front popped open. A lump pressed in your throat. A miniature of your wedding photo was nestled inside the frame. Tenya turned it over, revealing both of your initials along with your wedding date on the back.

    “I left the other half open, for when we have a family of our own,” he muttered drowsily. “I love you more than the world. I'm very happy you're finally home. I'd be very happy if you didn't have to leave again.”

    “I love this. I love you,” you murmured in reply, then turned your head to kiss him.

    You put the locket back in the box, then helped him stand. You hauled Tenya upstairs, and got him changed. He insisted on brushing his teeth, even though he coud barely stand up right. The necklace took up a home on your night stand. You were going to wear this every day that you could. It was your new favourite piece of jewelry.

    Once you were settled into bed, he immediately took you in him arms. He hummed in content.

    “How would you feel about being a secretary?” Tenya slurred, nuzzling his nose into the back of your neck. “I'm going to need a new one soon. Mine is gonna get fired.”

    You sighed. “I actually wanted to talk to about that. I wanted to wait until you were sober. But – I'm going to quit my job. That way I can be home with you. If we want a family....I'm also tired of spending so much time away from you. You can't imagine how lonely the world is without you with me to see it.”

    Tenya sighed. “I want your....baabbeeezzz...”

    You chuckled. “Tenya? - Love?”

    A light snoring told you he was out cold. You smiled to yourself as he snuggled closer to you. You relaxed into him. You'd been waiting for this for ages. Or, it felt like ages anyway. You didn't want to be away from him anymore. Coming home to the one you love? It was amazing. But getting to stay home with them? That was the best Christmas gift you could ask for.

~

being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy pt. 3

feat. Vil, Idia, Malleus

note: while can be interpreted as gn!reader the reader is reincarnated into a female villainess (especially obvious in Malleus’ part), reader is different for each character, I might write blurbs cuz I like the villain/ess genre

part 1 part 2 part 3

series masterlist

For heroes to succeed, a villain must fall. Novels, films, and games taught generations to never pity the wicked who stands in the heroine’s way, but you couldn’t bring yourself to follow these sentiments. Your heart goes out to the villains and villainesses who drowned in their grief, trapped in a heartless situation, and abandoned by their beloved. Why is it their fault they fell in love with someone who doesn’t love them back? Could their lives be different if given the choice?

“Why couldn’t they be loved too?” You had your final thoughts as you drifted to sleep, only to wake in a startling new yet familiar reality.

Where is this and why do they keep calling you by the villain’s name?

Someone pinch you, you must be dreaming, right? Not only were you in your favourite romance manga, but you were also the partner of the Vil Schoenheit, your absolute bias! Yes, he was technically the antagonist of the series and you were his indifferent partner, but you were on cloud 9.

The story was that your husband was envious of the admiration the male lead, Neige and his love interest seem to so easily gain in the social circle. Eventually, his envy drove him to poison his rival and scar the beloved hero, only to inevitably be caught and ostracized. The plot painted your husband to be a vain noble that couldn’t handle competition, but you knew how hard he worked and his genuine efforts to earn his title as the perfect noble.

You raked your brain trying to figure out how to save your beloved from his frankly unfair fate, but Vil and Neige are bound to meet frequently due to their titles as the most sought-after nobles in the kingdom. Your only hope was to stop your husband’s plot to poison the count’s son and save his image.

You reincarnated before this expected event and not wanting to ask your husband to not poison someone (no matter how handsome he’d be, that is not a look you want to see), you waited for that impending day in hopes to foil it.

But who said you couldn’t find some enjoyment? Afterall, you had the luxury of being in the same household as your favourite character. If you weren’t at the mansion helping as much as you can to ease the burden on your husband, you spent your time singing praises for your beautiful beloved to anyone who was willing to hear. Your consistent praise has been said to rival the famous count and Vil’s closest knight, Rook.

“He’s so amazingly patient with me, teaching me my duties as part of the Schoenheit family!” “He’s the image of grace and elegance! His cool eyes leave me in tears! Of happiness, of course!”

Vil was not blind to the change in his partner, but he doesn’t really question it as all he wanted from you was a partner that would not disgrace the family name. He ignored the feelings of warmth when you smiled at him every time you two passed by each other at home, as though he was the center of your whole world. He did ponder for a moment how strange it was that the innocent energy that Neige exude irks him was almost endearing when it was you. Speaking of which, why were you so close to that man?

Even if Vil is your favourite, you were a fan of Neige as well. He was as sweet as the story wrote and you learned that he admired your husband as well (the hours of appreciating Vil were frequent). Plus, being as close as you could give you a higher chance to stop the poisoning attempt. Unfortunately, high society was hungry for gossip, and you became their favourite treat.

“Have you heard, Schoenheit’s newest partner has their eye on the adorable count heir” “Like a moth, always attracted to the prettiest things~”

Vil knew not to take rumours seriously, but the whispers were fuel to the budding anxiety towards the beloved heir of the count. He saw how well-matched you were with the sweet raven-haired boy. He knew he would give you the time and care you deserved unlike himself who had to push you aside for the sake of his duties. He believed that you would be happier if you were separated from him for the obviously kinder man. He wanted you to be happy, he truly did.

But he still offered the poisoned glass of champagne to that wretched man.

Your face pale in dread. Your husband has never offered anyone a drink, much less his rival. He was pulled away by an acquaintance and now you were left with a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. The situation was too tricky to maneuver as all eyes were on the three of you. Knocking the glass is too inconspicuous and if left out too long, the drink would darken and be investigated, and your beloved will be the prime suspect.

You had to think fast. You had to work quick.

“Sir Neige, could I try your drink?” You smiled as sweetly as you could, hiding the nervous shake of your hands. “My drink is a bit strong for me”

Kind as he was, Neige exchanged your glasses without your husband’s notice. It only took a sip of this poison to take effect and the rest of the content would be tested and traced to the Schoenheit business. It presented as an allergic reaction when consumed but it was categorized as poison when investigated in pure liquid form. You had to do it.

Steeling yourself, you downed the drink to its last drop and stood back with a smile. It’s useless to run now so you’d have to stand there and be ready to act surprised.

You turned to see your husband, who locked his eyes with yours. You smiled in reflex, but tears were starting to fill your eyes as a burning sensation took over your throat. Before long, you felt unable to breathe freely. You cough erratically, dropping to your knees as you claw at your throat as a desperate attempt to ease the fiery pain you feel. The guards rushed to you as Neige panicked beside you, unsure of what’s happening. As your vision blurred and your conscious mind slipping away from you, you thought you heard someone scream out your name.

It had been a while since you reincarnated into this strange world. Were it not for the existence of magic and unbelievable creatures, you would alternatively think you went back in time instead.

You were “born” and raised in a family known for their strength. Members of your families have grown up to be either knights or battle strategists. You and your siblings were training rigorously as your kingdom was expecting an attack from an ambitious rival kingdom.

While your family were confident in your skills, you knew your family were worried over unpredictable obstacles, namely the vicious beasts hiding in the forest surrounding your kingdom. The royal family commanded the collaboration between your family and the Shroud family, famous for technological inventions beyond their time. That’s when you met their sons.

To say they’re different from most nobles you’ve met was somewhat of an understatement. Idia was fidgeting in his seat in front of you and your siblings, somewhat unbecoming of the heir but the most interesting is his brother who wore articles of what looked like metal coverings on his limbs and most notably the lower half of his face. You kept your mouth shut so as not to disrespect the brothers. Your siblings, mainly your tactless brother, was not as delicate.

“What is with your lazy posture?! And what is that crazy costume you have on??!” Your brother loudly exclaimed at the Shroud brothers which earned a sharp jab in the ribs by both you and your older sister. “What??”

As your sister dragged your brother out into the hallways, you took the chance to bow your head towards the Shroud brothers, apologizing for your brother’s rather brutish tone.

That surprised Idia, not the sudden exclamation of your brother but for you and your sister’s scolding over his actions. He’s used to people spewing insults towards him and his brother’s odd appearance but rarely do people apologize, especially families with such high status.

You stayed with the brothers, mainly chatting with the more talkative brother, Ortho until your family started their carriage ride home. Still, even when their mansion was out of sight, your thoughts drifted to the Shroud family, mainly the brothers. Their features were so unique and almost a work of magical art themselves, you weren’t sure if they caught you being mesmerized by their flowing blue flames of hair.

You couldn’t speak for your family, but you particularly enjoyed your visits to the Shroud family. You heard that Idia was inventing an aura radar that could help soldiers to detect the presence of magical beasts and you were impressed. But you were even more in awe when you found out he was creating a sort of battle simulation “game” using magic to project visual avatars and reviewing past battle strategies that you were happy to share with him.

“You never fail to amaze and captivate me, Idia. You are seriously incredible.”

“WH-WHAT?! You muscleheads seriously have no subtlety, suddenly saying all that!”

Idia’s mind almost becomes a disarray whenever you are here. Your forward nature leaves him a flustered mess with your honest heart and cavalier attitude towards personal space (though you do back away when asked, to his dismay relief). But he does appreciate that you seem fond of Ortho as he is to you. The younger Shroud gets excited when you offer to walk around with you, even though the both of you keep insisting the older brother to join. You were someone that is easy to love but he kept himself from falling for you because of your differences. No two people could be more opposite than you two, convincing himself that you can never be.

He was sure he could hold his feelings back, until he and his brother were invited to the send-off party by the royal family for the soldiers.

“Eeekk!! How horrid!” A noble’s daughter didn’t hide her disgust when she saw the younger Shroud brother. He typically kept his mouth guard, but he was too tempted to try the mouth-watering pastries at the party. He thought he was away from prying eyes, but he was unfortunately wrong.

“Oh my, those scars…how disturbing” More nobles gawked at Ortho while he tried to wear his mouth guard, but his frazzled mind couldn’t bring his fingers to hold still. His scars were remnants from the beast attack he barely escaped from, but high society was not sympathetic and he was pushed to hide his face and limbs.

More reactions were shared throughout the crowd, either faces of disgust or sneers. Idia who was lost in his own anxiety didn’t realize what the commotion was about until he was too late, and the crowd kept growing which kept him too far to reach his brother.

RRRIIIPPPP

A loud sound tearing cloth caught the onlookers’ attention and looked to the source of the harsh noise. You stood with your sleeve ripped from your once pristine uniform and your arm, littered with both old and new scars of various sizes.

“Do you have a problem with scars?” You almost growled your words as your gaze pierced through the attendees who looked away in fear, many physically backing away from the heat of your glare. “You all have the audacity to point at a child then call yourself of noble class?”

A few foolish souls attempted to speak back but your older siblings came to stand beside the youngest kin. Your brother sneered at them, purposefully making a show of reaching his sword and your sister, though silent, stared down at them letting be known that she won’t be stopping what may come next.

Idia was close to tears. He felt such a disconnect towards this entire kingdom for the longest time and his brother was his only light in his world. However, a different light came to him as he saw you wrapping your arms around his brother and escort him somewhere safer.

He fell hard and he can’t bring himself to hate it.

You failed to change anything. You were publicly ridiculed and your engagement with the crown prince was officially annulled. You tried so hard to protect your friendship with your betrothed so that you would hope that he could at least spare you and your family the humiliation.

Accusations were falsely proclaimed that you attempted to harm his true love and that your family wanted to usurp the current royal family. None of it was true but all of the most powerful and influential figures in the kingdom would rather believe the words of the mysterious transfer student than you. Afterall, she was the main protagonist.

Apparently in his highness’ “kindness”, your family will be ostracized from nobility and to renounce their valuables. You held your tears in the ballroom, but you couldn’t stop once you reached the empty garden, away from spiteful eyes. All of your careful steps and efforts to avoid the bad route in this accursed dating game was for naught as you still end up as the ill-fated rival for the protagonist to beat.

Once you calmed down, you finally realized a pair striking green eyes looking your way. You saw a tall fellow standing a few feet from you. It was your mysterious friend you met some time ago at this very garden. His tall stature and striking features were unmistakable. The garden was sparsely lit but he still glowed in his own way, almost otherworldly in a way.

“Dear human”

Years ago, your betrothed held a birthday party and you snuck away to be away from the judgmental stares and whispers of the nobles who idolized the prince but despised you. You walked aimlessly through the maze when a deep timber brought you out from your daze.

“I didn’t realize someone else was here” his deep voice startled you.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t notice you there either. What brings you here?” You asked but the long-haired man didn’t reply, still observing you. You then had a thought. “Oh! Are you lost?”

You remembered how you kept getting lost in the royal garden and you imagine that this new noble was too embarrassed to say it. You put on an understanding smile and held out your hand. “Please, let me help you”

His eyes widened for a small moment before chuckling before accepting your hand. As you two weaved out from the maze of a garden, you pointed out the flora of the garden that the gardener taught to you and even the mysterious nobleman added his own factoids, especially on certain statues and gargoyles. Everyone you met either had greedy intentions or quietly berated you as the fiancé of the prince, so you laughed at the refreshing conversation.

After everything that day, you were grateful for this moment of sweet peace. You reach the entrance of the garden and while a little reluctant, you retract your hand away from the new man. Afterall, you were engaged and you could ruin this man if rumours were to come of this.

“Ah I never told you my name!” You realized a little late, introducing yourself before waiting for him to do the same.

“You may call me as you please” he surprised you again. Was he ashamed of his background?

You appraised his features, pondering on a name befitting this man who was beautiful but with a demeanor that was sharp and almost dangerous.

“How about Belle Amour? Like the flower” you said which managed a slight change in his expression as his eyebrows noticeably shot up before chuckling at your choice.

“I never knew humans like you could be so charming”

Since you two have been exchanging letters. Still as mysterious as ever, he instructed you to send your letters to the home of Duke Vanrouge and he or his son would deliver his. However, you chose not to question his methods as you worried his situation was a sensitive topic.

And now, you meet again in the same garden. You smiled at him through your glassy eyes, but he didn’t return the gesture.

“I didn’t know you were coming”

“I was invited, which was surprising”

“Ah, the crown prince must have invited everyone to announce his true love and how despicable I was” you let out a heartbreaking laugh at the harsh fate of the brokenhearted. Your dark-haired friend said nothing as he saw your shaking figure and your efforts to hold back tears from returning. You didn’t deserve this, he thought.

Your escort knight found you and urged you to return so you could discuss your family’s future. You let out a sad sigh and told him to ready the carriage and you’ll meet him at the castle’s entrance.

“Well, I’m happy at least. I got to see you for the last time” you forced a smile. You assumed that once you were a commoner there was no way a noble like him would ever contact you again. “Goodbye, Mr. Belle Amour”

He kept his eyes on you and you were tempted to wait if he wanted to speak more with you. When he stayed silent, you felt a little disappointed but left with a dignified bow, turning to make your way out of the garden, to your fate according to the world’s happy ending.

Once you were out of sight, a figure akin to a young child emerged from the other side of the maze and a few steps behind the taller man.

“Such misfortune to fall on a child. She and her family.”

“Lilia” the emerald-eyed man turned to him. “Have the men check the preparations once more. Tonight is the night”

When you reach the doors of your home, you barely register the figure of your parents as they immediately rush to your side. Their panicked and confused expressions hinted to you that they were informed of the family’s fate. As your parents asked you what happened at the party, you broke down into tears once more as you held onto your mother for support.

“Mother, I’m so sorry! The family is ruined because of me!” You cried into the older woman’s shoulders, begging for forgiveness.

Gently, your mother gently pulled you to face her. “What are you talking about? I was talking about the proposal”

Now you were the one confused. Your parents gestured you to the mountains of the gifts piled nearly from wall to wall near the entrance of your home. From the brightest of gems to the most extravagant of designer clothing were almost too much for your servants to handle as they tried to organize the seemingly endless presents.

“Duke Vanrouge’s son and his colleagues came with carriages of gifts, saying they were gifts for the family, asking for permission to court you in hopes of marriage on behalf of their master” your father explained as you surveyed each item. Your eyes landed at the large arrangement of flowers, a beautiful bloom of pink Belle Amour roses.

“Be careful, my lady!” One of your maids warned you. “Those roses have thorns!”

Despite her warnings, you reached out to find a small piece of parchment tied delicately to the stem of one of the roses. Carefully, you untied the letter from the flower and unfurled it to read:

My dear human, I will come to take you away soon.

    From your Belle Amour, Malleus Draconia

Well shoot. You’ve just captured the hidden character and popular capture target of the game, the powerful Dragon King.